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Hello, and welcome to my blog.

What do you all like most about this little blog?

Cute Animals?

Music?

Funny GIFs?

Woman Dancing Around?

Something Else?

I know that 90% who actually answer will say women dancing around, which is ok, BUT, that’s not all tumblr has to offer. There are a lot of great people just trying to make a connection to the world through their blogs,, not everything has to be half dressed people.

I hope you check out all the little things inside the blog, enjoy!

3 Easy Ways to Chat With Girls That Always Work

<h2>Three Easy Ways to Connect With a Girl</h2> <p>Talking to a cute girl you like can be nerve-wracking. But having a good conversation is key to getting to know her better. Here are some simple tips to help you hit it off:</p> <h3>1. Listen Up</h3> <p>Girls love it when a guy actually listens to what they have to say. Make eye contact and focus on her when she's speaking. Nod your head or say things like "interesting" to show you care. Ask follow-up questions too - it shows you're paying attention to the details. Listening is the best way to make a girl feel heard and comfortable opening up to you.</p> <h3>2. Loosen Up With Humor</h3> <p>A little fun can go a long way in lifting awkward vibes. Share a silly joke or story to get her smiling. Try not to poke too much fun unless you know she can take a joke. Lightening the mood with laughs helps the conversation flow more naturally so you both relax. Remember - humor is best in small doses!</p> <h3>3. Discuss Deeper Topics</h3> <p>While the weather is a safe starter, try steering talk to deeper topics like dreams, hobbies or family as comfort levels rise. Getting real shows her you want to genuinely get to know her on a deeper level. But go slowly - save the heavy stuff for when she's more willing to open up to you. Deep talks are a great way to build genuine connections.</p> <p>Most importantly, be yourself and respect her space. Forcing things will only make the situation weird. With practice and by following these tips, you'll be chatting like a pro in no time. Good luck!</p>

#the Nowhere Man who waits and the God of Stories who watches

i like to call this ‘popular mlm ships with freakishly similar name dynamics’

this means absolutely nothing i’ve simply been observing this for a hot sec

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.

Friendship never dies in FNAF..

they should go on a fishing trip pt.1

PSA: tomatoes are not spicy. Tomatoes and tomato products should not be spicy. Pizza sauce isn't inherently spicy. Tomato-based pasta sauce is not spicy. Ketchup is NOT spicy.

If tomatoes are spicy, you have an allergy to tomatoes.

This announcement brought to you by my almost 29-year-old husband learning for the first time in his 2.8 decades of putting food products into his mouth that spaghetti and saucy pizza aren't spicy foods

the naming of hunger games characters is absolutely masterful. each one could have a whole page written about it, and tho i can't say anything that hasn't already been pointed out a million times, i do want to highlight one generality. most of the names in the districts are one of two things: common words (altered or not) to become names, often in line with their district's culture (Gloss, Thresh), or phonetic shifts of contemporary common names (peeta being derived from peter). this suggests, without changing how the characters speak, the idea of linguistic evolution, which in turn is representative of change and of local cultural. the districts are a people in dialogue and evolution with one another. and now compare this with the names of those in the capitol. off the top of my head i think of Plutarch, Coriolanus, Flavius, fucking Caesar. these are, one, roman names, which further serves to reinforce the comparison between the capitol and rome and all that entails, but these roman names, names that have been etched in stone and unchanged for millennia, are a stark contrast with the alive and dynamic names of the districts. it's just another (not so) subtle way that collins reminds us of the differences and the values of the capitol versus the districts.

Prompt:

Tim is the first to find out the Red Hood’s identity and from then on sticks to Jason during patrol like glue (much to Jason’s chagrin, dammit, it would feel wrong to beat up Robin when he’s that starry eyed…)

Cue: PANIC from the rest of the Batfamily, who still think Hood is a forty-something year old crime lord and now assume they’re dating.

One wedding and three funerals

Background paintings under the cut

Family Resemblance

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I had another 11pm brain worm.

Enjoy

-x-x-

Daniel Wayne, the younger toddler brother of Bruce Wayne and the son of Martha and Thomas Wayne had been kidnapped the night their parents were murdered.

Daniel had been snagged the moment their killer heard people headed to the alley and Bruce in his state of shock didn't realize it until it was far to late and could only scream in horror (from everything) as his baby brother is crying his name. (If you wanna make it even more heart wrenching, make it Danny's first time being able to say Bruce's name right and/or Bruce had said some mean things to Danny earlier after he accidentally broke something of Bruce's, something like 'I wish youd go away' or 'I never wanted a brother, you're such a bother!')

Bruce is being held by Alfred as some police officers are chasing down the Wayne's parents killer while some stay behind to see if they could do something.

Minutes turn to hours and as they wait, praying the police at least found Danny, Bruce is ridden with guilt. From his parents death to allowing his brother to be kidnapped.

Eventually the police return to give Alfred and Bruce the news. And it's not good.

The killer escaped and Danny was nowhere to be found.

And it would take many years before he would be found.

-x-x-

Bruce gets a call from Damian during school hours one day. When he answers he is greeted with Damian demanding him to get to the school and explain himself.

Confused Bruce asks what does he mean and Damian responds with

"The two new students in class today are the spitting images of you and I father! Either they are poorly created clones or you have more hidden blood children!"

-x-x-

Meanwhile the very students being discussed are calling up someone too

"Ellie? Dan? What's wrong? You better not have made too much chaos already, I just paid for the uniforms for that place."

"DAD! I THINK ANOTHER ONE OF THE FRUITLOOPS FAILED CLONES SOMEHOW SURVIVED!"

"What?"

i genuinely don't care how good a piece of ai generated art or writing looks on the surface. i don't care if it emulates brush strokes and metaphor in a way indistinguishable from those created by a person.

it is not the product of thoughtful creation. it offers no insights into the creator's life or viewpoint. it has no connection to a moment in time or a place or an attitude. it has no perspective. it has no value.

it's empty, it's hollow, and it exists only to generate clicks (and by extension, ad revenue.)

it's just another revolting symptom of the disease that is late stage capitalism, and it fucking sucks.

I've been thinking about why Sam's new portrait looks familiar. And unfortunately it's bad news.