#that's just the fucking best
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Watching my mom evolve over the years has been such a fun experience. For context, she's got nine kids (at least five of whom have turned out to be queer; at least four of those have turned out to be non-binary), and for most of my life, she was just your average Gen-X Irish-Italian Catholic mom. She didn't really do vocal homophobia or whatever, but she also clearly didn't know how to handle it when her firstborn interrupted a Red Wings game to announce, "I think I'm gay." (Spoiler alert: that was me at fifteen or sixteen. In retrospect, of course the Tomboy For Life who had never been remotely interested in boys but was ALWAYS talking about actresses/female friends at school a bit too much wound up being gay. And announcing it. During a hockey game. Of course.)
She also didn't really know how to handle that same kid starting to date in college, bringing a girl home, and so on. She did a bit better when the next kid came out as a lesbian, but when that kid came out as non-binary (shout-out to that sib for doing some of the heavy lifting first), it was a whole new deal. It clearly had never crossed her mind before, that this might come up. Gay? She was figuring out gay. Gender stuff? Whew. A shiny new Pokemon of a situation.
The changed pronouns have been a bit difficult for my mom. The new names still get jumbled. (In fairness, the old names got jumbled, too--it was always a laundry list of names before she got to yours, no matter what you went by, because there were just so goddamned MANY of us.) It gets harder when she's stressed, and sometimes she just seems not to be getting it. I know it frustrates my siblings deeply. It can grate on me, too. You just want people to understand out the gate, to take you at your word, to shift gears without a slip-up. You don't want the awkward conversations, the painful skips, the rough patches. It's tempting to just give up on people if they don't stick the landing immediately.
But if you look a bit deeper, there's such a soft mama bear energy to my mom. Such a stubborn determination to get it right where it really counts. My mother, who never once skipped Sunday mass as I was growing up, has left the church completely because "they don't treat my family well." My mother, who once told me not to bring a girl home because it might confuse the youngest children, bought Converse sneakers expressly for my wedding to a woman. And my mother, who had never known the word non-binary, who didn't seem aware of the trans umbrella at all before her kids started huddling beneath it, keeps leaping to tell me all about the shows she's watching lately. The ones where "there's a non-binary character, and it's so cool that people can see that now!" The ones where "and this one is non-binary, and they're so great, and maybe it'll teach the shitty politicians of the world that they're just people, you know?"
Sometimes you just have to give people a little space. Let them stumble occasionally. They're going to. They're going to trip up. My mom hurt my feelings so many times when I was young, said so many of the wrong things right on the heels of the right ones, confused and upset me because I couldn't understand why she just didn't get it. But here she is, almost sixty years old, and so gleeful to tell me about the power of queer representation on TV. She doesn't always get it right, but goddamn, does she love her kids, and goddamn, does she want the world to love people like her kids, too.
#lgbtq#queer stuff#i love my mom#watching her go from an 'eh politics whatever' catholic to someone who actively pays attention#watching her and my dad put love is love signs up in their yard#watching them work to untangle decades of thought patterns to figure out how to support their kids and people like them#it takes time. it takes more time than you'd like sometimes. but it's been so reassuring#people change. they can grow. they can learn. and they can be powered by love above all else#that's just the fucking best#and so is my mom
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#flopswords#you really think someone would do that just go on the internet and tell lies?#definitely not my best work but#This Is Fake For The Love Of Fuck#I Made This#Quit Panicking About Your Data Getting Sold
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Bruce keeping a tighter and tighter lid on his identity around the Justice League because with each new person to reveal their identity he realizes that he has fucked far too high a percentage of his co workers as Bruce Wayne and he has to take this secret to his grave
#the first time it happens he's just like oh whoops that'll be awkward#the second time: well that's not ideal#the third time: fucking hell why did i make a persona that cant keep it in his pants#Clark angsting about why his best friend doesn't trust him enough to tell him his secret identity:#:( why doesn't he trust me after all we've been through together#bruce: i have fucked too many people here including you and you can never know#batman#bruce wayne#dc comics#dc#mine
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A h-heartfelt reunion..?
Bonus
#Sir Crocodile#Monkey D Dragon#Emporio Ivankov#Dragodile#Crocodad#My art#One Piece#We're not gonna talk about the work I should be doing rn I have Severe Procrastinitis and I'm doing my best okay#Alternative version where it was both Crocodile and Garp beating Dragon's ass before Iva-chan joined in but that was too much effort lmao#I'm a believer in Dragon being a Wind Logia so don't worry guys he is 100% taking this beating intentionally#He knows what he did and he's dealing with the concequences of his actions. With grace.#You know I realize Iva-chan should be two whole meters taller than Crocodile but we're just gonna ignore that#Look Iva-chan taking Crocodile's side and being like ''Crocoboy is right you fucked up bad Dragon'' brings me joy#And for real I've been wanting to draw this for months. But never did because I had other shit to do. Which I still do#But. You know. Sometimes you need to draw a shitpost. It's ✨ self-care ✨#And appearently One Piece shitpost comics have become the thing I draw for myself on occassion
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"content creator" is a corporate word.
we are artists.
#anti ai#fuck ai#artists on tumblr#please do not call me or any artist a content creator#i'm an artist. a fanartist. a designer. but not a content creator#ai clowns in my replies will be deleted and blocked without response so do not waste your breath#you are not an 'artist' for generating an image any more than you are a chef for ordering from a restaurant. someone Else did the work.#owen dennis just deleted all his blue sky stuff again and i hate that he does that because he makes such interesting comments#about the entertainment industry lmao i need to just. start screenshotting every smart thing he says#anyway thats why i decided to finally make this when its been sitting in drafts for a few months#owen dennis#edit - if you dont know who owen dennis is he's the creator of one of the best animated series of the last 20 years (Infinity Train)#he's very open about talking about art and the entertainment/animation industry on social media and in his newsletter and hes so cool 4 it
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humble contribution
#basic: interpreting mizu’s gender based on what u think fits best#based wired inspired: interpreting mizu’s gender based on the ship so that it’s always a gay relationship#also whoever drew taigen’s nose Like That..#i am forever thankful i need to kiss them with tongue#ode to taigen’s nose: page 1 of 204737835737493#did i spend too long on this instead of just simply grabbing screenshots? look away#blue eye samurai#mizu#akemi#taigen#taigen’s top knot before it met its early end teach the angels how to sing baby 😔🙏#ringo#my art#yuri is when there’s blood and themes yaoi is two blokes who do fuck all
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Sketching while streaming s5...
Jonathan Sims I will learn to draw you (this is my doing. I could draw him however I want and I choose to stick with an image of him in my brain that is difficult for me to draw. Masochism.)
Not s5 Mahtins below I enjoyed drawing cuz hes neat:
(Edit: I yassified Martin in the do not separate cuz I wanted his hair fluffier)
#yes I realize Jon and Martin are in different fucking art styles let me live#do not accuse me of being AI this difficulty drawing hands is all natural I worked hard drawing for years just to fucking suck at it#update I listened to 170 I heard it was devastating but my ass was LAUGHING#poor martin but omg me and my buddy had everywhere at the end of time in the background and shit was so funny#he forgor 😭💀#it was emotionally devastating at the end tho Jon suggesting he stay there um btich NO?!#Jon the literal Lonely is not worse tham being around you get a fucking grip#helen continues to be the best character her showing up for the juicy gossip is so fucking real#anyagays#tma#tma podcast#the magnus pod#tma fanart#jonathan sims#the magnus archives#my art#martin blackwood#jonmartin#jmart#tma jmart#tma season 5#tma spoilers#i have to make a diagram for my jon and martin designs for s5 SO bad#if only i could draw jon.... >:(#i need u guys to know that my martin loves plaid and jon is wearing a plaid shirt thats too big in s5... inchresting....
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You never say what you’re really thinking.
#such a shame that aziraphale wasn't in the room because if he's anything like me he'd be on his knees the moment crowley called him funny#this actually makes me emotional because he just!!! loves spending time with his angel!!! so much!!!#it's great!!! its so good!! its fucking magical hes the best thing thats ever happened to me!!!!#good omens#crowley#my gifs#usersugar#tsusermels#userrlorelei#elinordash#userzin#jemmablossom#usereena#crowleyanthonys
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I’ve been reading @bamsara ‘s Rehabilitation of Death fic 👀
So i drew narinder showing his lover to his kits <3
#cotl#cult of the lamb#narinder#narilamb#narinder x lamb#cotl baal#cotl aym#the one who waits#trod#the rehabilitation of death#i just started ch 17#my friend tells me the drunk god chapter is the best so im real excited#ready to go fucking feral ngl
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one of the worst things in the world is that feeling unloveable can (and will) make you act in ways that reinforces itself. I feel unloveable so I don’t respond to messages so people reach out less so I feel unloveable. one of the hardest things in the world is fighting back the brain demons long enough to break the cycle
#my best friend doesn’t have tumblr but I am mentally sending him so many apologies right now jesus fuckkkkkkk#I feel so fucking awful rn#I went and watched taskmaster and that distracted me a bir#but literally. suicidal thoughts out of nowhere. urge to drink out of nowhere#it’s like. 8:15pm and I’m thinking of just going to bed now#only way to get my brain to shut up#I have such a busy weekend ahead as well#godddddd I want to enter hermit mode so bas#I’m not gonna do anything stupid don’t worry#but I sure Feel Like Doing It
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romantic shipping is OUT, entire episodes about the power of friendship are IN
#helluva boss#helluva boss spoilers#ghostfuckers spoilers#‘i’ve never had a best friend that i didn’t want to fuck before’ BLITZ ILYSM#im just so hyped that they canonically called each other best friend ❤️ and the amount of trust and love they have for each other UGH
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andrew helping neil shower was so tender i’m crying into my fucking fist. andrew wrapping up neil’s wounds so they wouldn’t hurt in the water. andrew helping him take his clothes off to shower because it caused neil too much pain to pull them all the way off. andrew washing neil’s hair. andrew helping him stand up when he was struggling to balance. and then neil crossing his arms behind andrew’s head to keep him closer, tilting andrew’s face up to kiss him. i’m so fucking soft for them oh my god
#i never would've fucking guessed these two were capable of such sweetness but consider me surprised in the best way#i had to put my head in my hands for a minute after reading that because it was just so. tender. the way andrew cares for neil.#god. someone hold me.#when he washed neil's hair i nearly fucking died from softness#andreil#andrew minyard#neil josten#the king's men#aftg
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Vincent Price guest stars on
The Muppet Show (1977)
#vincent price#the muppets#the muppet show#muppets#fozzie bear#gonzo the great#uncle deadly#i fucking love this#monster#best thing ever#i said it#bicon#bisexual#god#legend#best episode#hes so hot#such a gilf#he could get it#just sayin#horror#old horror movies#vintage#movie#actor#handsome#gif#gifs made by me#gif set#gifs
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#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#kabru rlly is just playing ace attorney in that dungeon#and the touden party are the worst fucking defendants ever#kabru: no listen they're the best candidates for conquering the dungeon#mithrun: you just said that guy is a danger to humanity#kabru now crying: i know
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It's funny how opinions can change over time for instance I used to want Bruce to be a good parent but then I realised how fucking boring that is to read at the end of the day comics are soap operas and I'm here for the drama
#dc#dc comics#batman#bruce wayne#character development <- for me not for bruce#give that bitch some regression#but yeah i think there is a fine line with bruce and his parenting#like imo he should be trying his best but failing spectacularly at it#all his actions should come from his own fucked up sense of duty#anyway i think ive mentioned this before#but someone just liked one of my really old posts#talking about good parent bruce and how hes important yada yada yada#and reading it made me go#i dont agree with this bitch she does not speak for me >:(#so setting the record straight#.... until i change my mind again lmao
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More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos
(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)
People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.
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+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.
The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ
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Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-
The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.
The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.
He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.
Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.
Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.
The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.
Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.
It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.
He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.
Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.
His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.
She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.
A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.
Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.
He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.
A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.
However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.
With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.
“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.
He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.
He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.
Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.
So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.
“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.
The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.
The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.
Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.
When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.
Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.
#i only have the Paris and Korean subways as frame reference so i have no idea what american subways look like#just imagine the paris subway system- i heavily used it as a reference to draw and write these since it's#the only subway that I know AND looks 1980-ish enough to pass#gravity falls#gravity falls fanart#gravity falls fanfiction#gravity falls au#<-ig???#there are mirrors in subways right- I've seen a lot of curved wall length mirrors at subway stations#stanley pines#stan pines#grunkle stan#stanley's sketchbook#tw liminal space#tw horror#<- I mean eh- my horror writing skills is sub par at best#cats#tw scopophobia#tw staring#on the other hand- stanley being friends with street cats!! so cute <33#you can visibly SEE in the fic where I completely lost my grip on the story from 'sweet story about cats' to 'oh my god what the fuck'#my art
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