is it normal to get mad about food?
bc when I go to the movies with my class they give us the minimum of popcorn and half a bottle of sprite
but I can’t just stay home because I’ve already stayed home too much and my parents would have to go to court
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People against piracy fail to realize that no, I can’t just ‘buy it.’ They stopped making DVDs and Blu-Rays. They’re barely offering digital copies for download. I am not spending money I could use for food or bills to pay for a subscription service just so I can always have access to a beloved piece of media. Especially not when the service will remove media on a whim without concern for how the loss of access to that piece will make its artistic conservation nigh impossible.
For example, I recently learned that Disney+ had an original film called Crater. It’s scifi, family friendly, and seems cool - I would love to buy it as a holiday gift for my little brother! But: it’s exclusive to D+ and THEY REMOVED IT LITERALLY MONTHS AFTER ITS RELEASE.
The ONLY way I can directly access this film is through piracy. The ONLY available ‘copies’ of this film are hosted on piracy websites. Disney will NEVER release it in theaters, or as something to buy, and it may NEVER return to the streaming service. It will be LOST because we aren’t allowed to purchase it for personal viewing. If I can’t pay to own it, I won’t pay for the privilege of losing it when corporate decides to put it in a vault.
So yes, I’m going to pirate and support piracy.
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when people reblog donation posts and say "donate what you can", I really feel like people aren't actually internalising it. not all of us can afford to donate $50, $100, more than that. but i know for a fact that there are thousands of us that can spare $2 or $5, and that all adds up.
it hurts so much to sit here and feel the limits of our own ability. we're not millionaires. we can't instantly fund these escape attempts. but these are bids for life, by people who never asked for the hellfire being rained upon them by sadistic colonialists, greedy for oil and land. they committed no crime other than being born in palestine. and of course it's unfair, to have to shoulder the weight of people's lives when we're all struggling to get by as it is. but our governments relentlessly fail us, they fail to scrape at the bottom of their cold dead hearts for their last dregs of humanity. it is so, so unfair, but it is up to the common man to save each other.
please. look at this spreadsheet. find a fund that resonates with you. and DONATE WHAT YOU CAN.
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
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listen I expected literally Nothing from the D&D movie okay, like I can't make it clear enough that I expected the most soulless money grab with a good cgi budget imaginable, I went in having already gone through every stage of grief and landed on acceptance and LISTEN
I fucking CRIED during this dumb RPG movie. it wasn't just "not terrible" it was objectively good with a clever plot and compelling characters and sincere emotional beats. this movie loves D&D so fucking much and it NAILS the "a bunch of goobers try to be cool and accidentally discover The Power Of Friendship And Also Great Violence" classic D&D party vibe. their barbarian's last name is fucking Kilgore and my entire family cried in the theater.
I hope they make twelve of these motherfuckers.
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THEY PLANNED TO MEET UP AT PURGATORY GLOBAL SO CHARLIE COULD KILL HIM AND FINALIZE THEIR DIVORCE. CHARLIE DIED AT CENTER, RAN BACK AND MARIANA WAS THERE HAVING ALREADY LOOTED HIS BODY BUT GIFTED HIM BACK HIS STUFF. CHARLIE LIED ABOUT BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH CELLBIT BUT COULDNT HELP BEING GENUINE WHEN MARIANA TOLD HIM HE WAS GLAD HE WAS HAPPY. THEY TALKED ABOUT LIFE AND MARIANA WAS PROUD OF HIM TRYING TO LEARN SPANISH. CHARLIE STARTED DOING SHY GAY FLIRTING BECAUSE WHY THE FUCK NOT AT THIS POINT. IT WORKED. THEY FUCKED THREE TIMES IN THE GLOBAL WATER POOL AND AGREED TO TRY AGAIN AS LONG AS MARIANA LOGGED ON AGAIN AND MIGHT EVEN RAISE CODEFLIPPA TOGETHER. MARIANAS NICKNAME HAS BEEN UPGRADED FROM PUTA ESPOSA TO GUAPA ESPOSA. CHARLIE THREATENED TO MAIL A BOMB TO CCMARIANAS HOUSE IF MARIANA DOESN'T COME TO THE NEXT QSMP MEETUP BY THE END OF THE YEAR. WE ARE SO BACK.
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“He’s the only one I knew that could pound whiskey like a sailor then keep up with me on the dance floor.”
aka my take on Alastor and Mimzy back when they were still alive!
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when you just finished fkng on top of a grave, but you have feelings you gotta sort out
(they're just nekkie, but since I dont know the state of tmblr cens0rship - and I had drawings flagged where people were fully dressed before) you get the white halo of doom - but you can see the full pages on my twitter!! I drew some nice butts so pls check them out :3c)
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today, my coworkers’ refusal to see me as a man put one of our patients in a position where they felt unsafe for the third time. i’ve been at this job for less than two months total. i don’t even care about getting misgendered anymore, i just want the people we’re supposed to be taking care of to feel comfortable around me.
i work at a hospital where we have to supervise our patients in a lot of vulnerable situations. there are safeguarding rules in place for certain things that male employees aren’t allowed to be present for when it comes to female patients. and yet, the people training me and telling me what to do have repeatedly put me in situations where i’ve been forced to do things that the female patients aren’t comfortable with me doing. and because they have repeatedly failed to teach me the rules for doing my job as a man, i have no way of knowing when i’m crossing one of those lines unless one of the patients tells me.
i’ve had to watch a victim of SA stare at me in abject terror as my coworkers asked her to strip naked with me still in the room. it took several minutes for her to even be able to speak enough to ask if i could leave the room. i found out after that she broke down crying the moment i walked out. my biggest regret is that i didn’t realize what was happening fast enough to leave before she ever had to say something, because she shouldn’t have had to say it. i never should’ve been allowed in the room in the first place, because that’s not something male employees are supposed to be present for. but i didn’t know that yet, because i was training and i thought surely, they wouldn’t train me to do something that directly violated their own safeguarding rules. that moment was the first time, and it’s haunted me ever since, but it wasn’t the last time. not only did it happen for the third time today — it almost happened for the fourth, and would have if someone hadn’t spoken up to say they should pick someone else. i care for these people so deeply, it’s why i took this job, and i’m so tired of hearing the fear in their voices when they have to ask me not to do something i never should’ve been told to do.
i’m very used to the personal discomfort of being misgendered. i willingly deal with it a lot at work as well as in other situations, not because i’m in the closet (at this point in my medical transition that would be impossible), but because it’s such a frequent occurrence with my coworkers that we would never get anything done if i took the time to correct them every time. but to see it get to the point of causing such visceral discomfort in other people? people i’m supposed to be taking care of and keeping safe? that’s something else entirely, and i’m fucking exhausted.
and after all of that, some of them still look at me like i have two heads when they tell me what to do and i say “i can’t do that, only female employees can” because i’m learning now. clearly i’m already seen as a man by our patients, but my coworkers would still rather put them in an unsafe situation than just train me as a man.
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Prompt 139
So. Dan has somehow found a small child. A practically newly born ghostling who had literally fallen right on top of him. A ghostling who had practically formed right above him, far away from nurseries and instead above him of all ghosts?
Him, the Sunkiller? The Worldeater? Jordan Vladimir FentonNightingale-Foley-Manson? Son of Space and War? Bringer of the End?? Seriously, what the hell! Ghostlings shouldn’t even be able to form within other ghost’s Lairs, and he knew for a fact this wasn’t his own ghostling seeing as he wasn’t interested in such things.
So here Dan is, feeling more confused than he ever has with a newborn ghostling clinging to him and sobbing in his arms about wanting his dad. What even is his unlife right now.
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She makes me sooooooooooooo sad
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i finished it, was kicked out of the game, and then spent the next 10 minutes drawing this. i will now go take a shower, most likely cry, and then go through the emotional turmoil of convincing myself to reset so i can do a geno run. i hate it here :D
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I've been thinking about the templars lately. they were promised honor, virtue, told that they would be charged with protection of the innocent... And then those same people are systemically exploited and abused, abuse others because they're taught to regard everyone else as either sheep who need to be lead or potential threats. Never equals, except in their brothers/sisters-in-arms. They act as the guard-dogs and military arm of an entirely different organization that they're only a functionary member of but have no governing say in. Even the chantry aren't their equals- they function as the templar order's supervisors! And all this isolation and closing of ranks ends in disability, addiction, death, and abandonment by the system they spent their bodies in service of.
To top that off, retaliations against them just confirm the paranoia they were taught to embrace. It's probably a long hard road to get out of that hole.
Like, listen. the dichotomy of mage vs templars is a satisfying and easy one, but the system is tearing them apart too. have you ever heard of a retired templar?
at the end of it, mages and templars need to unite against the real threat. the chantry.
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Okay but like, Roy and Jamie weren’t exactly subtle about loathing each other, were they? They fought each other on the pitch and badmouthed each other on TV, none of that keep it quiet for the sake of the team shit for these extra boys, yeah? My point is, anyone who knows anything about English football knows that Roy Kent and Jamie Tartt used to hate each other, right?
So obviously, at some point, during some press conference or post game interview, someone needs to bring this fact up. Maybe it’s as early as after the 2x06 match, because Ted might well have insisted Roy and Jamie be the ones to front that, both because it was them that won that game and because he figures it’ll promote ~their bond~ or some such. Could be later too, after the headbutt/hug thing, or later still, once the pictures of Jamie and Roy’s early morning excursions start doing the rounds on social media.
Doesn’t matter much when, really, only that someone – maybe from the tabloids because they’re a vicious lot – would ask: “Roy, just weeks before you joined the Richmond coaching staff you said, and I quote, ‘Jamie Tartt is a muppet and I hope he dies of the incurable condition of being a little bitch’. Today you described him as the most important player on the field. What has changed?”
And maybe the room goes a bit quiet at that, oooh he fucking went there, and what the hell is going to happen now, but Jamie only cocks his head to the side, making a face but looking at Roy all amused like. “You said that about me? That hurts me feelings, Coach.”
And Roy rolls his eyes, exasperated but in too good a mood after the win to be really annoyed. “Yeah, well, as it turns out the condition was only mostly incurable, wasn’t it?”
And Jamie goes aaaw and the press goes um okay and it doesn’t really explain anything, only adds to the ever-evolving legend of what the fuck is up with Roy Kent and Jamie Tartt.
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