#might do more with this might not

[enigmatist17]

L.A Seems Fun (Part 2)

Part 1

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"Early one morning, just as the sun was rising

I heard a maid sing in the valley below

Oh don't deceive me, Oh never leave me,

How could you use, a poor maiden so?

Remember the vows that you made to me truly

Remember how tenderly you nestled close to me

Gay is the garland, fresh are the roses

I've culled from the garden to bind over thee."

It had been a lifetime or three since Angel had heard that song, especially coming from someone who refused to sing if anyone was within hearing range. Well, he had with Drusilla at times, but they were rare enough to never draw much attention from Angelus or Darla.

Yet here Spike was, singing without a care even though Angel and Cordelia were only a few feet away, to the little bundle in his arms. Connor was cooing as he listened to the vampire, one little hand waving up and down when Spike grinned and poked his nose.

"He's been singing for the last half hour," Cordelia whispered into Angel's ear, the older vampire having finally woken from his first decent bout of sleep in months in her arms. "Wish I had his skill."

"Connor's okay?" Angel only held back from jumping out of bed and snatching his child from Spike's hands because Cordelia was not worried in any way. One of her hands idly ran through his hair while she read a book in the other, clearly having joined him at some point after he passed out with Connor in his arms.

"Safe as houses." She replied with a soft hum, kissing Angel's forehead. "Spike is a friend, and he loves Connor."

"What?" Angel blinked, wondering just how long he'd been asleep. "Friends?"

"And roomies." Spike waggled his eyebrows, trailing off to hold Connor up by his cheek with a smile. Angel is concerned to see the younger man covered in bruises from what looks like a vicious beating. "Got me a nice room upstairs, little tyke 'ere loves it."

"You're staying?" Angel sat up with a slight wince, the other trailing across the room to slip the happy infant into his arms before he could speak.

"Reckon I can use the vacation from Sunnyhell." Connor squealed slightly as he got comfortable in his father's arms, Angel raising an eyebrow at Spike, who pointedly avoided his look. "Speakin' of, 'm gonna score myself a bit o' violence before bed, so 'ave fun children."

"Have fun?" Cordy questioned as the other vampire swept out of the room, waving his hand before he disappeared around the corner with a whistle. "He is so weird."

"No, he's just Spike." Angel shrugged as he gently poked his son's nose, donning his demonic face to hear the peals of laughter the baby let out moments later.

"I will never get over how cute that is." Cordelia smiled from her lounging spot on the bed, earning herself a genuine smile from Angel, showing off all of his vampiric teeth in the process. "Adorable."

"You're just being nice," Connor cooed as he was bounced a little. The little being in his arms soon yawned and dozed off when Angel shuffled back on the bed to sit beside Cordelia. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, the vampire just watching his son sleep as Cordelia watched Angel.

"Spike and I had a chat after you fell asleep." Angel glanced over as she hummed under her breath, flipping a page in her book. "I know you both have history, but you're going to play nice with Spike while he's here."

"Um...I am?" He doesn't have to look over to see the look on Cordy's face, her tone of "don't mess with me buster because I just adopted another loser off the street" was enough to be an answer.

"It took half the liquor cabinet after we got back, but he opened up with some of what is going on in Sunnydale, and it's bad." Cordelia had to shake her head at the memory of the drunken confession she'd bore witness to after the fourth bar they'd gone to, closing her book with a quiet sigh and setting it aside. "He had to convince me not to go down there myself to raise figurative hell, and ended up using your son to do so, cheeky ass."

"Connor has that effect huh?" Angel chuckled, the sleeping baby making a noise as if he heard them. "Spike can stay as long as he wants, I can tell he's attached already."

"Considering you've seen him for about five minutes, that's impressive."

"William has never been able to hide caring about something from me, this is one example." Angel shrugged. "It'll also be nice to have an extra fighter on hand."

"Good." Cordelia hugged Angel's side with a soft noise, looking down at Connor with a smile. "Another Sunnydale stray finding their way with us, huh? I can't believe we ended up being the responsible ones...well, most of the time."

"I blame L.A." Angel shrugged, Cordelia's laugh nearly echoing throughout the entire hotel.

[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.

[mayhemchicken-artblog]

in the hour or so it took me to draw this op turned reblogs off

EDIT: reblogs are STAYING OFF. op was right and correct and i have never regretted making a post as much as this one. if you want to reblog my art you can reblog something else from my blog. or commission me, lord knows i deserve financial compensation for the nightmare this post has put me through

[weewoow-20706030]

The batfam trauma candy salad would go absolutely insane.

Dick: Hi. I'm Dick Grayson and when I was 8 I watched my parents fall to their death in front of me, then I had to move away from everything I love and spend the rest of my life in some weird American city. And I brought the sour gummy worms.

Jason: This is so stupid- my mother used to kick me out when he drug dealer would come over so I didn't see her spending our very small amount of money on drugs.

Steph *off screen*: what did you bring?

Jason: nerds.

Cass: I was raised to be a weapon, a murderer. I brought peach rings.

Steph: I'm Steph and My dad was an alcoholic who thought he could go head to head with batman and outdo the riddler. And I brought Reese's pieces.

Tim: I'm Timothy Drake Wayne and I had left the house to try and find some guy before he killed my dad, just for him to kill my dad when I was gone. I brought sour rainbow strips.

Duke: My parents are in a mental ward, high on joker toxin. No one knows if they'll ever get better. And I got m&m's.

Damian: I am a highly trained assassin and-

Steph: cut. Cut. Damian. Civilian identities. Ok. Restart.

Damian: My mother randomly dropped me on some weird man's doorstep when I was ten. I brought rock candy.

[trekkerac]

he's like a faulty lightbulb

[stil-lindigo]

lead balloon (the tumblr post that saved me)

if this comic resonated with you, it would mean the world to me if you donated to this palestinian family's escape fund.

--

no creative notes because this isn't that kind of comic.

I know I don’t owe any of you anything but I still felt compelled to write about my long term absence. And I feel far enough away from the dangerous spot I was in to be able to make this comic. I have a therapist now, and she agreed that making this could be a very cathartic gesture, and the start of properly leaving these thoughts behind me. I am still, at seemingly random times, blindsided by fleeting desires to kill myself. They’re always passing urges, but it’s disarming, and uncomfortable. I worry sometimes that my brain’s spent so long thinking only about suicide that it’s forgotten how to think about anything else. Like, now that I've opened that door for myself, I'll never be able to fully shut it again. But I’m trying my best to encourage my mind in other directions. We'll see how that goes.

I am still donating all proceeds from my store to Palestinian causes. So far, I've donated over $15K, not including donations coming from my own pocket or the fundraising streams which jointly raised around $10K. In the time since I made my initial post about where this money would be going, the focus has shifted from aid organisations to directly donating to escape funds.

If you'd like to do the same, you can look at Operation Olive Branch, which hosts hundreds of Palestinian escape funds or donate to Safebow, which has helped facilitate the safe crossing and securing of important medical procedures for over 150 at-risk palestinians since the beginning of the genocide.

[hinamie]

10 years later

[pangur-and-grim]

I didn’t share this before, but I took this video on night before Belphie was diagnosed with FIP. he’d stopped walking. if I placed him somewhere, he’d just crumple. finally I managed to get this weird, wobbly walk from him with a meat gogurt.

compare this video to the one I posted earlier today, where he’s flinging himself into the air like a frog! I 100% believe he would’ve died that week without the medication, and now he’s thriving. now he gets to be a happy, chaotic kitten. now he gets to grow up.

[otaku553]

A self indulgent Koala redesign :)

Going for something cute that has the ability to look normal among mid to upper class civilians in case she needs to mingle with nobles, but just a bit more militaristic and practical for fighting! Thinking of doing a layer by layer breakdown for her outfit as well

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

The stewards of the old world are always keen to give you a glimpse of their might... According to legend, the ancients built specialized chambers to seal away false prophets.

The Arcane is waking up.

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF 2 MOVIE FLASHBACK SCENES LETS GOOO!!

(Original post @/Dawko on Twitter)

[shepscapades]

Creaking Bigb!! I did these a couple of nights ago after watching bigb’s first wildlife ep >:]

[legolambi]

say it with me melvik pre series toxic situationship

[cosmic-nia]

i love this concept and i wanted to combine it with ribbun. Dark ribbun, HELL YEAH! ill inject that shit into my veins

i dont think this gave off the “dark” vibe i was going for but oh well lol

[o0kawaii0o]

"Anything caught your eye?"

[suntails]

growing up!