#i never stopped

[senvurii]

its the Fuck You Brother

[mailb0xbunii]

hey hey don't cry ..... c!aimsey belongs to the universe , okay ? why are you crying even harder now

[britcision]

“Stop loving things because you are older now”

You mean after I finally got a job and skills to let me do really cool shit about the things I love?

Make me

[therulerofallpotatos]

Her Monster verse

Some teenagers sneak out to party or throw cans off a bridge at 2am. Tyler sneaks out to go to Wednesday's house, shift into the hyde, and sleep with the baby on his chest. Gomez regularly wakes up to find them in the nursery together.

[jynnispook]

Me? Losing my mind o rr WTNV in 2023?

It's more likely than you stink

[taking-shots]

@eightmakar is back at it again making me feral for the avs

[azzymth]

YOURE TELLING ME PEOPLE STOPPED?????

guys we’ve gotta get back into collaging

[shadesofmauve]

I want to step away from the art-vs-artist side of the Gaiman issue for a bit, and talk about, well, the rest of it. Because those emotions you're feeling would be the same without the art; the art just adds another layer.

Source: I worked with a guy who turned out to be heavily involved in an international, multi-state sex-slavery/trafficking ring.

He was really nice.

Yeah.

It hits like a dumptruck of shit. You don't feel stable in your world anymore. How could someone you interacted with, liked, also be a truly horrible person? How could your judgement be that bad? How can real people, not stylized cartoon bogeymen, be actually doing this shit?

You have to sit with the fact that you couldn't, or probably couldn't, have known. You should have no guilt as part of this horror — but guilt is almost certainly part of that mess you're feeling, because our brains do this associative thing, and somehow "I liked [the version of] the guy [that I knew]", or his creations, becomes "I made a horrible mistake and should feel guilty."

You didn't, loves, you didn't.

We're human, and we can only go by the information we have. And the information we have is only the smallest glimpse into someone else's life.

I didn't work closely with the guy I knew at work, but we chatted. He wasn't just nice; he was one of the only people outside my tiny department who seemed genuinely nice in a workplace that was rapidly becoming incredibly toxic. He loaned me a bike trainer. Occasionally he'd see me at the bus stop and give me a lift home.

Yup. I was a young woman in my twenties and rode in this guy's car. More than once.

When I tell this story that part usually makes people gasp. "You must feel so scared about what could have happened to you!" "You're so lucky nothing happened!"

No, that's not how it worked. I was never in danger. This guy targeted Korean women with little-to-no English who were coerced and powerless. A white, fluent, US citizen coworker wasn't a potential victim. I got to be a person, not prey.

Y'know that little warning bell that goes off, when you're around someone who might be a danger to you? That animal sense that says "Something is off here, watch out"?

Yeah, that doesn't ping if the preferred prey isn't around.

That's what rattled me the most about this. I liked to think of myself as willing to stand up for people with less power than me. I worked with Japanese exchange students in college and put myself bodily between them and creeps, and I sure as hell got that little alarm when some asian-schoolgirl fetishist schmoozed on them. But we were all there.

I had to learn that the alarm won't go off when the hunter isn't hunting. That it's not the solid indicator I might've thought it was. That sometimes this is what the privilege of not being prey does; it completely masks your ability to detect the horrors that are going on.

A lot of people point out that 'people like that' have amazing charisma and ability to lie and manipulate, and that's true. Anyone who's gotten away with this shit for decades is going to be way smoother than the pathetic little hangers-on I dealt with in university. But it's not just that. I seriously, deeply believe that he saw me as a person, and he did not extend personhood to his victims. We didn't have a fake coworker relationship. We had a real one. And just like I don't know the ins-and-outs of most of my coworkers lives, I had no idea that what he did on his down time was perpetrate horrors.

I know this is getting off the topic, but it's so very important. Especially as a message to cis guys: please understand that you won't recognize a creep the way you might think you will. If you're not the preferred prey, the hind-brain alarm won't go off. You have to listen to victims, not your gut feeling that the person seems perfectly nice and normal. It doesn't mean there's never a false accusation, but face the fact that it's usually real, and you don't have enough information to say otherwise.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. Writing about this twists my insides into tense knots, and it was almost a decade ago. I was never in danger. No one I knew was hurt!

Just countless, powerless women, horrifically abused by someone who was nice to me.

You don't trust your own judgement quite the same way, after. And as utterly shitty as it is, as twisted up and unstead-in-the-world as I felt the day I found out — I don't actually think that's a bad thing.

I think we all need to question our own judgement. It makes us better people.

I don't see villains around every corner just because I knew one, once. But I do own the fact that I can't know, really know, about anyone except those closest to me. They have their own full lives. They'll go from the pinnacles of kindness to the depths of depravity — and I won't know.

It's not a failing. It's just being human. Something to remember before you slap labels on people, before you condemn them or idolize them. Think about how much you can't know, and how flawed our judgement always is.

Grieve for victims, and the feeling of betrayal. But maybe let yourself off the hook, and be a bit slower to skewer others on it.

[kochei0]

I turn to Ares.

Thanks to Tyler Miles Lockett who allowed me to draw inspiration from his ARES piece for page 2! Look at his etsy page it's SICK

⚔️ If you want to read some queer retelling of arturian legends have a look at my webtoon

[redhoodfucker69]

bastille has done more for the queer community by just making all of their love songs about "you" instead of specifying a gender than taylor swift has in all of her discography. thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[bloodtwin]

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐠  。 。 。

             latest grave robbed: unprompted interactions 。 

@bolyde ⸻ ❝ "Your hair is getting longer." Hallow has been watching Puck mess with it against the nape of his neck. "I can cut it for you. If you want." ❞ 

             IT   BOTHERS   HIM .   He doesn't know why, but the way his hair tickles the base of his neck deeply bothers him. Makes his skin crawl. ( More than usual, that is. ) 

             Just another part of himself he can't remember. 

Maybe he simply prefers having short hair. That isn't so far-fetched, is it ？Not everything about him has to have a deeper meaning or a traumatic explanation, surely ？There must be something about him that's normal. 

He will decide that his hair is one of those things. Normal hair. Yes, he likes that idea. After all, he can't remember, so he might as well choose the reason for himself. Before that voice in his head tries to do it instead. 

             The reason is as follows: Puck prefers his hair to reach only halfway down his neck or higher because he likes it that way. Nothing more to it than that. 

And yes, he would like to get it cut, Thank You Very Much. He just doesn't trust himself with a pair of scissors, especially when he can't really see what he's doing to the back of his head, ( but also just in general he thinks he should not hold scissors ) so he hasn't done anything about it. 

Puck lets his hand fall away from the black & red strands his fingers had been pulling on. ❝ Truth be told, I'm glad you asked that. I might break out into hives if it gets any longer. ❞

He offers a faint, vaguely amused smile. ❝ Better you cut it than me, I think. If you would, please. ❞

[tuttle-did-it]

David Tennant for Prime Minister, please.

edit- Since this is getting so much attention, edited to include descriptions of screenshots.

This woman has lost her fucking mind.

Jo, are you okay?

[a-a-lost-munchkin]

I Can’t Help But Wonder

Odysseus, who just violently and mercilessly murdered 108 or so men, who claims in the next song that he’s no longer a kind or gentle man, actively listens to Telemachus and kindly and gently responds to everything his son’s expressed.

Telemachus asks, “Am I like you? Am I strong like you? Will you embrace me? Will you love and accept me as yours?” He says, “I’ve felt so alone.”

And Odysseus claims him in a heartbeat, answering, “My son. My boy. My sweetest joy I’ve ever known. I embraced you twenty years ago. I’d do the impossible for you. I’d die for you.” He says, “Seeing the men here today, I can only wonder what you’ve been through for twenty years. My son, you’re already strong. You’re my own. You’re not alone. I’m home.”

And then they fucking embrace.

[devinwolfi]

i'm literally still making saw graphs btw

[therulerofallpotatos]

Her Monster verse

Some teenagers sneak out to party or throw cans off a bridge at 2am. Tyler sneaks out to go to Wednesday's house, shift into the hyde, and sleep with the baby on his chest. Gomez regularly wakes up to find them in the nursery together.