#this one’s a lot more

[zeebreezin]

The first - or perhaps more accurately, second - meeting of a very dazzling couple. Featuring my own personal interpretation of what it must’ve been like when the Dawn Machine turned on for the first time. You’ll need to know Vincent (or rather, the guy who used to call himself Vincent)’s whole deal for this fic to make sense. Also, yay, evil women moments!

The world was wreathed in glasslike gold, and a young man was running as fast as he could. His vision had swam back into focus to the thundering of his boots, the sound sharp against the iron grating and fresh cobble. He sprinted frantically, desperately, through corridors of metal and brick. There was a song in the air, unheard hymns now so, so familiar. The man was singing, too, but he didn’t quite realize that yet. Despite how his chest screamed for breath, for rest, he never missed a note. There were people, uniformed men and women that he sprinted through the melody, collapsed figures lying prostrate in prayer as light stripped the flesh from their backs. None of the others weren’t running.

That didn’t matter, though. He had to keep going. He had to find her.

It was the only thing he seemed to be able to hold into, this unexplainable drive to search. There was nothing else to hold onto. The rest of the young man’s mind was so wonderfully quiet, faintly ringing with thoughts of glory and light and brassy song. They didn’t quite feel like his thoughts, they didn’t stick quite right. What did his thoughts feel like, again? …That didn’t matter. ‘Mattering’ didn’t matter much, anymore. She was out there, somewhere, and he had to keep running.

The young man turned a corner, his torn coat snapping in the humid air as he did. He’d made it to a platform, one overlooking the ochre stained waters. The light danced across the waves. Crates lay stacked on either side. Men lay slumped against them, not breathing yet singing so sweetly. They slid out his mind.

And just ahead, leaning against a railing, he saw her.

She was gorgeous, even in the well worn skirt she wore. She was dressed for work - grease staining her rolled up sleeves - and yet the glorious light seemed to halo her. Like an angel. Like something more. As he stood there, horribly out of breath, she turned to face him. Her curls framed brilliantly bright eyes. She smiled at him, something like relief in her eyes as she spoke. The soft words were nearly swallowed by the distant roar of machinery and the hymns echoing from every other set of lips.

“□□□□□! □□□□□?” She said - wait, what was that she said? “□□□□..?”

His head was full of song. He couldn’t make sense of her words. He should say something, he should respond, but it was all so bright and brilliant. He wanted to answer her badly. Didn’t he? He must want to, right? Did he want anything? Her voice was so beautiful. He had to try and answer.

“Is… Isobel?” His voice was raw, dry and brittle in the thick wet heat. The young man had almost forgotten how to speak. He’d forgotten how to do anything but sing and shine. Somehow, though, he remembered this. Her name fell from his lips without knowledge of the salvation it represented. “You’re… Isobel.”

It was only now that the young man realized that he couldn’t remember his name. The meaning of ‘you’re’ escaped him, even as he spoke it. But Isobel had a meaning.

Of course it did. That was her.

Her eyes were wide with something like concern, despite the smile on her face. She crossed the space in a blur of golden hues, until one of her hands rested lightly on his shoulder. He had to look up to meet her gaze. He did.

“□□□□□□… □□? □□□□□?” It was hard to understand her, intent and vocabulary slipping away into that bright happy nothingness that had nearly swallowed him whole. He was aware, faintly, that he was mouthing her name under his breath. Isobel. Isobel. Isobel. A single piece of meaning in the quiet of his mind. He was smiling so hard it hurt.

Then suddenly, something shifted. It felt like he’d come up for air after too long underwater as something aching burst behind his eyes. His thoughts were still scattered, hushed by the gold caressing the back of his skull. But there was clarity, now. Language, concept, reality. The young man took a single staggered step forwards, nearly collapsing into her arms.

“…Can you even hear me? …Are you in there? □□□?” Isobel said, her soft voice so terribly worried. The grip on his torn, dawnstained coat felt desperate. It left his chest shaking.

“Isobel… is- yes, yes, I can hear you. I can hear you, Isobel.” It was easier for him to speak, now. He tried to sound reassuring, even as tears streamed down his cheeks. How long had he been crying? “I’m… I’m here.”

His words made Isobel’s smile widen, as she pulled him in for a hug. The young man shivered as she held him, a brief, desperate moment of human contact. The rest of the golden, dreamlike world felt more in focus, as he looked out from over her shoulder. He saw the singing people, looking more dead than alive. The newly polished metal piping. The blood. It was so terribly familiar, yet it felt like nowhere at all.

“Isobel, where… where are we?” He said, as Isobel pulled away. There were a few tears in her eyes now, too.

There was that concern on her face again, that softly furrowed brow. “We’re… we’re on □□□□□□…” Isobel’s voice dipped back into the song again. Or maybe it was his ears being pulled under? He couldn’t tell. She paused for a moment, perhaps noticing the lack of recognition on his smiling face. “…what can you remember?”

What can he remember? …There was something he had to remember, wasn’t there? Something terribly important. A secret, one he’d meant to tell her before. A secret not gold at all, one that was dark, and tricky, and smelling of resin— then the sweet nothingness took those words away, and he opened his mouth to speak.

“I remember… You saved me. You saved my life didn’t you, Isobel? I was going to- to do something terrible, and you saved me.” The young man was barely speaking above a whisper. He couldn’t remember the events he spoke of, but the truth of what he said was heavy on his tongue. Yes, yes. She’d saved his life. “Everything else is gone, but… I remember you.” He paused, swallowing dryly. “Do you… do you remember me? Can you tell me who I am? Who am I, Isobel?”

There was an earnestness in his words that clearly shocked her. A spark of desperate trust in otherwise empty eyes. Bright, yes, but so terribly empty. Nothing like the young man Isobel Murray had known only days ago. The Machine had done a number on him. The wit and bravado was pulled clean free, leaving a shaking, earnest man stumbling around blinding for her in the newfound light. He’d never trusted anyone in his life, before - but oh, look how he trusted her now. Isobel was his only lifeline, and there was something almost kind in her gaze as she cupped his cheek.

A crueler person would abuse this. Isobel would do no such thing. It would take time to give him back who he was, and most likely he’d never be quite the same again. With time, though, Isobel could make him even greater than he was. A silver tongue now coated in gold. Someone hers, and hers alone, never to leave her side.

There was an unreadable look in her eyes, as Isobel began to speak. Her tone never stopped being so soft, so sweet. “Who are you? Oh, my dearest… Your name is Vincent Beverley, and you’re madly in love with me.”

The young man - Vincent, that’s what his name was - hung on her every word. He’d just learned what true belief really was from that wonderful gold, and so he knew now with everything he had, he believed Isobel. Every word she said must be the truth. How else could it be sung so sweetly? If there was a brief thrash of doubt, it died silently, along with whoever he might’ve been before. He’s Vincent Beverley. He’s never been anything else.

She’d explain the rest, of course. She told him everything she knew about him - everything there was to know. Luckily, Isobel said, he was quite simple. Vincent Beverley was charming, quick witted, always able to spin a joke, a friend to anyone who needed it. That was Vincent’s greatest skill, she said - to be exactly what he needed to be to make people trust him. He was a recruiter for the Admiralty - but more importantly, a recruiter for the new, glorious machine at their backs. Her eyes had lit up when she spoke of it. He was cunning, and ruthless when he needed to be - when Isobel needed him to be. His head still felt so empty, bright and quiet, but Isobel’s words were all he needed. Vincent took shape around her instructions with a smile on his face.

Because before he was any of those things, Vincent Beverley was in love with a woman named Isobel. He was hers, in every meaning of the word. He’d be the happiest man alive as long as he got to stay by her side. Vincent would be anything, anyone, as long as he could still be hers. Of course, Isobel didn’t tell him that. That part Vincent figured out himself, as he stood there in the brand new light of Dawn, collapsed into his beloved’s arms, half singing and half crying. It was the happiest moment of his life.

God, he loves her so much.

[knockknockwhosthereartistism]

I was inspired

[canonkiller]

I just think everyone should take a moment to consider the question "what is your visual shorthand for cruelty?" and then follow it up with a critical "and who taught you that?"

specific examples include but are not limited to

why is an evil timeline character design disabled? (why do the heroes go through equally punishing battles and never lose an arm, a leg, an eye?)

why are the futuristic scifi terrorists uniformly darker skinned? (why are the heroes so much lighter?)

why is the greedy boss fat? (why are the heroes skinny?)

why is the criminal mastermind heavily scarred? (why is the brooding, traumatized hero unscathed?)

why is the predatory creep a bearded person in a dress and makeup? (why are none of the heroes trans women?)

who taught you that this is how things are?

how long do you plan on repeating it?

[keymintt]

more public art! these fellas were printed on vinyl for the sides of a traffic cabinet

[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.

[eydilily]

gem n joel the strongest duo (family) that you are

and of course. her

[hinamie]

10 years later

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

Physically? I am sitting in my bedroom. Mentally? Spiritually? I AM DEAD ON THE FLOOR!!!!! THESE TWO HAVE KILLED ME!!!!

(Another drawing! This was originally attempt #1 at drawing stan, and then fiddleford just showed up. Kinda feels like them five minutes after the above acting like nothing happened though, so it works sdjkgkjfshj)

[krysmcscience]

I have some questions about karaoke night, Alex Hirsch. Very Important Questions. Which I will happily scream at a poor hapless baby triangle who can have no answers for me, and possibly also does not have object permanence yet.

Follow-up that is I guess suggestive, but let's be real here, Bill's a fucking triangle:

Dude slipped right into his birthday suit, lmao

this is so stupid :D

Anyway, I don't care what anyone says, this brilliant individual knows what's up - Bill is absolutely way more of a monsterfucker than Ford could or ever will be, full stop.

[ruushes]

companions re-classed part 3 - shadowheart 🌌🌚🌝

*shadowdancer isn't a 5e rogue subclass, it's a 3.5e rogue-based prestige class, but it suits her so well and when i played 3.5e as a kid i thought it was the coolest thing ever lol so i wanted to use it

karlach 🔥 wyll ⚔️

[chloesimaginationthings]

"They call it the MANGLE" - FNAF 2 phone guy

[catmask]

does anyone have like an anti aesthetic. like something you look at and can recognize as a complete fashion/interior design/artistic movement and understand it but it makes you shudder seeing it. i am not talking like “its morally bad” “its poorly structured” like just sheerly devoid of joy for you actually invites a repulse response.

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Suddenly, bell bottoms aren't so bad

Bonus sketch, because I had to vv

"Stop checking out my assistant, Stanley."

[lazylittledragon]

if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about

[noodles-and-tea]

How does Ford react to Fidds taking Stan with him on a creature hunt? A sea based hunt at that.

He gets a lil jealous

[octarineblues]

supporting communities & people impacted by the Southport attack and the far-right riots in the UK

here is a list of community fundraisers I found, starting with those aiming to support the Southport community after the appalling attack at a children dance party, to the fundraisers helping those affected by the subsequent racist and Islamophobic far-right/nazi riots

Edited on 5 August to include Middlesbrough fundraisers. Edited on 6 August to correct the link on the Books for Spellow Lane fundraiser, to adjust the name change for the Belfast fundraiser, and to adjust the wording in the second last paragraph.

Southport:

Southport Strong Together Appeal - organised by the community foundation for Merseyside, for those affected by the Southport knife attack

United for Southport families - the funds will be distributed among the nine families of the children who were at the party

Swifties for Southport - a fundraiser for the Alder Hey Children's charity, which supports the victims and the affected families, as well as first responders and clinicians. Extra funds will also support the wider Southport community

Fundraiser for the Southport Mosque - a fundraiser to aid rebuilding or possibly re-locating the Southport Mosque after the damages it suffered during the riots

Rebuilding Windsor Mini Mart - fundraiser to rebuild the locally-owned grocery store that was targeted during the attacks, broken into, and looted

Liverpool:

Fundraiser for the Spellow Hub - the Spellow Hub was broken into, looted and set on fire at night during the riots. The Spellow Hub is a newly created one-of-a-kind (in the UK) institution, which consists of a library as well as a community centre with a mission to help people get education and pathways to work

Books for Spellow Lane - another fundraiser for the library in the Spellow Hub, to replace the books and rebuild the library there edit: included the correct link

Hartlepool:

Fundraiser for the Nasir Mosque - the Nasir Mosque was attacked following Southport riots; this fundraiser is organised by Hartlepool citizens to help the mosque deal with the damages as well as to show appreciation for the role of the mosque in the community. edit: the funds will be also distributed to the local community!

Rebuilding the Farm Shop - the shop was targeted during the riots, and when the owner and his son tried to protect it, they were also violently attacked. The fundraiser is to help fix the damages to the store.

Sunderland:

help rebuild Citizens Advice Sunderland offices after arson - two of the Citizens Advice Sunderland offices were set on fire during the riots, and one of them is completely destroyed.

Hull:

Hull Help for Refugees - a local fundraiser to support the Hull Help for Refugees charity, the donated money will be re-distributed to community members affected by the riots

Fundraiser for Hull Help for Refugees and Welcome House in Hull - collected money will be donated to the two charities

Belfast:

help fix racially motivated damages - originally the fundraiser for the Sahara Shisha Cafe which was targeted by the far right in Belfast during the riots, now a fundraiser for all affected businesses in the area. edited to reflect the change of the name of the fundraiser to avoid any confusion

Middlesbrough:

Supporting residents after the riots - Middlesbrough has suffered so much during the riots, lots of businesses as well as just regular family homes were vandalised, had their windows smashed or even were broken into. This fundraiser wants to distribute the funds between affected people to help them fix the damages, and to generally support the local community. the newest fundraiser, imo potentially the most urgent one

Fundraiser for a Care worker's car which was set on fire - a car belonging to an employee of a care agency was set on fire during the riots while he was on shift at a care home.

If you want to donate locally but there is no fundraiser to support where you live, consider donating to your local charities oriented towards Muslim or PoC communities, or towards anti-racist and refugee organizations! And go support your local Muslim/Arab/Black/Asian/Refugee owned businesses!

If you have any information about other local fundraisers, feel free to add to the post or don't hesitate to let me know and I will add them here! We have seen so much hate in the past few days, we have to stay strong and keep supporting each other!

Stay safe everyone 💛