m4st4rd

[m4st4rd]

hello g/t nation... any other fans of The Pitt or ER out on this lovely app?? I have some g/t thoughts that need to be shared

[m4st4rd]

society if women were seen as people

[m4st4rd]

This is Israel putting its genocidal concept of "shrinking civilians" to work, where Israel shrinks what it means to be a civilian by declaring everyone in Gaza to be a combatant, mainly because of their approximity to Hamas, by creating scenarios like this.

[m4st4rd]

hii

[m4st4rd]

Thick as Thieves

a/n: my first contribution for @gtgotcha4gaza !! the prompt from @biggnansmol was "Discovery," so i decided to write something about an unnamed thief meeting an unnamed thief :)

warnings: implied mistreatment

It was something about “incriminating documents,” which was always the case for him, not that he minded it. As he carefully undid the window lock and stepped inside, he couldn’t help but wish for the next assignment to be a little bit more exciting. 

   His client was some politician — they all were — who wanted dirt on his opponent — they all did — and he was getting paid top dollar for a simple breaking-and-entering. He had mapped out the apartment in his head, and his planning from the day before had landed him in the office, right where he needed to be. 

   Everything after that was touch-and-go. Get into the computer, copy the files, get the hell out of dodge. At that point, he could have done it with his eyes closed. But as he turned the office light off and prepared to leave, he heard something that hadn’t been in the memo. 

   “C’mon, you stupid… ugh!”

   His heart leapt to his throat. He was too good at his job to have fucked it up this late in the game. Every ounce of self-preservation begged him to leave, but there was also a slightly less reasonable voice in his head that told him that something else was off.

   The sound was so quiet, yet seemed eerily close. He wasn’t thinking as he rolled his mask up, his ears primed for every possible source of the voice. It wasn’t until it spoke again that he was reaching for the closet door.

   “Useless borrower… useless hook…”

   Borrower…? With a frown, he opened the closet door, and the voice was choked silent with a gasp. He carefully pushed aside boxes and crates until the only thing that he could see was a cage. Everything that he had ever been trained for was thrown aside, and his career came to a grinding halt. 

   Inside the cage was a person. A tiny woman, to be exact, maybe as tall as his palm and staring up at him with eyes that looked like they were about to pop out of her skull. Everything about her was so human, from her messy black hair to the threadbare clothes that she was wearing. He didn’t realize it, but he was looking at her with as much shock as she was. 

   He was surprised that she was the one to break the silence, but she held herself together and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here,” she said quietly. 

   He blinked. “Well, neither are you,” he replied, not noticing the way she flinched when he spoke. 

   His eyes traveled down to the floor in front of the cage, where there was a twisted piece of wire. He reached forward and picked it up, oblivious to the way she stumbled back. “This yours? What’s it for?”

   “N-nothing! I-I just…” She looked away, shaking even though it was warm. “Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything.”

   Sharp eyes quickly took in the woman’s appearance: malnourished, barefoot, dirty. Her eyes were sunken as if she hadn't gotten any sleep. He glanced at the lock that had been placed upon the cage, and noticed a broken piece of wire stuck inside it. 

   With a touch more gentleness than he had before, he asked, “How’d you get in there, anyways?”

   She took a sudden interest in her hands. “He thought I was a thief,” she said simply. 

   Against his better judgment, his face softened, and he leaned in closer, taking note of how she withered away. “If you’re gonna pick a lock,” he murmured, “you can’t just do it with one piece of a broken hanger. You gotta have a pick and a tension wrench.”

   “Wow, so glad I thought of that,” she snarked back. He smiled.

   “You’re in luck, though.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved his tools. “I just so happen to be prepared for the job.”

   She watched in stunned silence as he worked, shuffling to the back of the cage when his movements rattled the bars. He didn’t notice her flinch, too busy celebrating when the lock became undone with a satisfying click. 

   He set it on the ground and leaned down, peering into the darkness of the cage, where she seemed to be trying to disappear into the shadows. “C’mon, don’t you want to get out of this thing?” 

   “Who the hell are you?” she called back, the tremble in her voice returning. He only grinned. 

   “I’m a thief.” 

   It took a little more convincing before she was willing to step across the threshold, and as he shuffled back to give her space, she was thrilled to finally be in the open air again. He had fully expected her to dart away as he placed all of the boxes back into the closet, but when he turned around, he was startled to see her still standing there. 

   She was looking up at him with less trepidation now, and she shared the puzzled look that he gave her. “What?” he asked, kneeling down. “Why are you still here?”

"Were you just going to leave me here?" she replied. "I'm not the one with all of those tools."

"Miss, I can't take you with me," he said, shaking his head. "I live a dangerous life."

"I'm sure it's not anymore dangerous than the life I live."

He wasn't sure if it was the confidence of her words or curiosity that prompted him to reach out without another word, his hand laid flat before her as if it was something he'd done many times before. She hesitated, but the feeling of the tiny woman boarding his palm felt shockingly comforting, and her weight in his hand felt like it belonged there. "Hold on tight," he said, and disappeared out of the window with a borrower on his shoulder.

The next morning, the politician would wake up and throw a fit, screaming something about a thief. His day would only get worse from there.

[m4st4rd]

Thick as Thieves

a/n: my first contribution for @gtgotcha4gaza !! the prompt from @biggnansmol was "Discovery," so i decided to write something about an unnamed thief meeting an unnamed thief :)

warnings: implied mistreatment

It was something about “incriminating documents,” which was always the case for him, not that he minded it. As he carefully undid the window lock and stepped inside, he couldn’t help but wish for the next assignment to be a little bit more exciting. 

   His client was some politician — they all were — who wanted dirt on his opponent — they all did — and he was getting paid top dollar for a simple breaking-and-entering. He had mapped out the apartment in his head, and his planning from the day before had landed him in the office, right where he needed to be. 

   Everything after that was touch-and-go. Get into the computer, copy the files, get the hell out of dodge. At that point, he could have done it with his eyes closed. But as he turned the office light off and prepared to leave, he heard something that hadn’t been in the memo. 

   “C’mon, you stupid… ugh!”

   His heart leapt to his throat. He was too good at his job to have fucked it up this late in the game. Every ounce of self-preservation begged him to leave, but there was also a slightly less reasonable voice in his head that told him that something else was off.

   The sound was so quiet, yet seemed eerily close. He wasn’t thinking as he rolled his mask up, his ears primed for every possible source of the voice. It wasn’t until it spoke again that he was reaching for the closet door.

   “Useless borrower… useless hook…”

   Borrower…? With a frown, he opened the closet door, and the voice was choked silent with a gasp. He carefully pushed aside boxes and crates until the only thing that he could see was a cage. Everything that he had ever been trained for was thrown aside, and his career came to a grinding halt. 

   Inside the cage was a person. A tiny woman, to be exact, maybe as tall as his palm and staring up at him with eyes that looked like they were about to pop out of her skull. Everything about her was so human, from her messy black hair to the threadbare clothes that she was wearing. He didn’t realize it, but he was looking at her with as much shock as she was. 

   He was surprised that she was the one to break the silence, but she held herself together and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Y-you’re not supposed to be here,” she said quietly. 

   He blinked. “Well, neither are you,” he replied, not noticing the way she flinched when he spoke. 

   His eyes traveled down to the floor in front of the cage, where there was a twisted piece of wire. He reached forward and picked it up, oblivious to the way she stumbled back. “This yours? What’s it for?”

   “N-nothing! I-I just…” She looked away, shaking even though it was warm. “Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything.”

   Sharp eyes quickly took in the woman’s appearance: malnourished, barefoot, dirty. Her eyes were sunken as if she hadn't gotten any sleep. He glanced at the lock that had been placed upon the cage, and noticed a broken piece of wire stuck inside it. 

   With a touch more gentleness than he had before, he asked, “How’d you get in there, anyways?”

   She took a sudden interest in her hands. “He thought I was a thief,” she said simply. 

   Against his better judgment, his face softened, and he leaned in closer, taking note of how she withered away. “If you’re gonna pick a lock,” he murmured, “you can’t just do it with one piece of a broken hanger. You gotta have a pick and a tension wrench.”

   “Wow, so glad I thought of that,” she snarked back. He smiled.

   “You’re in luck, though.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved his tools. “I just so happen to be prepared for the job.”

   She watched in stunned silence as he worked, shuffling to the back of the cage when his movements rattled the bars. He didn’t notice her flinch, too busy celebrating when the lock became undone with a satisfying click. 

   He set it on the ground and leaned down, peering into the darkness of the cage, where she seemed to be trying to disappear into the shadows. “C’mon, don’t you want to get out of this thing?” 

   “Who the hell are you?” she called back, the tremble in her voice returning. He only grinned. 

   “I’m a thief.” 

   It took a little more convincing before she was willing to step across the threshold, and as he shuffled back to give her space, she was thrilled to finally be in the open air again. He had fully expected her to dart away as he placed all of the boxes back into the closet, but when he turned around, he was startled to see her still standing there. 

   She was looking up at him with less trepidation now, and she shared the puzzled look that he gave her. “What?” he asked, kneeling down. “Why are you still here?”

"Were you just going to leave me here?" she replied. "I'm not the one with all of those tools."

"Miss, I can't take you with me," he said, shaking his head. "I live a dangerous life."

"I'm sure it's not anymore dangerous than the life I live."

He wasn't sure if it was the confidence of her words or curiosity that prompted him to reach out without another word, his hand laid flat before her as if it was something he'd done many times before. She hesitated, but the feeling of the tiny woman boarding his palm felt shockingly comforting, and her weight in his hand felt like it belonged there. "Hold on tight," he said, and disappeared out of the window with a borrower on his shoulder.

The next morning, the politician would wake up and throw a fit, screaming something about a thief. His day would only get worse from there.

[m4st4rd]

Hello G/t Community,

Thank you so much for spreading and bringing awareness to this event! We currently have a little over 20 Volunteers who have offered to help out so far!

If you would like to sign up as a creator for the G/t Gotcha for Gaza event you have 3 days left to do so! Please be sure to sign up if you have the ability to do so.

For additonal information about the event please check out our Carrd!

[m4st4rd]

[m4st4rd]

[m4st4rd]

New Secret Knots comic

For more clickbait comics see also

[m4st4rd]

[m4st4rd]

[m4st4rd]

The Red Knight by AmiThompson_h

Updated 12/1/21 

Updated 12/31/21

Updated 1/29/22

Updated 3/12/22

Updated 4/23/2022

Updated 5/10/2022

Updated 8/13/2022

Updated 9/4/2022

Updated 10/25/2022

Updated 2/2/2023

Updated 4/5/2023

Updated 9/15/2023

Updated 2/25/24

Updated 4/15/24

[m4st4rd]

Strawberry vendor in Gaza, Palestine, January, 2019 @Aya Isleem

[m4st4rd]

A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. “Do I look like a fool?” said the frog. “You’d sting me if I let you on my back!”

“Be logical,” said the scorpion. “If I stung you I’d certainly drown myself.”

“That’s true,” the frog acknowledged. “Climb aboard, then!” But no sooner than they were halfway across the river, the scorpion stung the frog, and they both began to thrash and drown. “Why on earth did you do that?” the frog said morosely. “Now we’re both going to die.” 

“I can’t help it,” said the scorpion. “It’s my nature.”

___

…But no sooner than they were halfway across the river, the frog felt a subtle motion on its back, and in a panic dived deep beneath the rushing waters, leaving the scorpion to drown.

“It was going to sting me anyway,” muttered the frog, emerging on the other side of the river. “It was inevitable. You all knew it. Everyone knows what those scorpions are like. It was self-defense.”

___

…But no sooner had they cast off from the bank, the frog felt the tip of a stinger pressed lightly against the back of its neck. “What do you think you’re doing?” said the frog.

“Just a precaution,” said the scorpion. “I cannot sting you without drowning. And now, you cannot drown me without being stung. Fair’s fair, isn’t it?”

They swam in silence to the other end of the river, where the scorpion climbed off, leaving the frog fuming.

“After the kindness I showed you!” said the frog. “And you threatened to kill me in return?”

“Kindness?” said the scorpion. “To only invite me on your back after you knew I was defenseless, unable to use my tail without killing myself? My dear frog, I only treated you as I was treated. Your kindness was as poisoned as a scorpion’s sting.”

___

…“Just a precaution,” said the scorpion. “I cannot sting you without drowning. And now, you cannot drown me without being stung. Fair’s fair, isn’t it?”

“You have a point,” the frog acknowledged. “But once we get to dry land, couldn’t you sting me then without repercussion?”

“All I want is to cross the river safely,” said the scorpion. “Once I’m on the other side I would gladly let you be.”

“But I would have to trust you on that,” said the frog. “While you’re pressing a stinger to my neck. By ferrying you to land I’d be be giving up the one deterrent I hold over you.”

“But by the same logic, I can’t possibly withdraw my stinger while we’re still over water,” the scorpion protested.

The frog paused in the middle of the river, treading water. “So, I suppose we’re at an impasse.”

The river rushed around them. The scorpion’s stinger twitched against the frog’s unbroken skin. “I suppose so,” the scorpion said.

___

A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. “Absolutely not!” said the frog, and dived beneath the waters, and so none of them learned anything.

___

A scorpion, being unable to swim, asked a turtle (as in the original Persian version of the fable) to carry it across the river. The turtle readily agreed, and allowed the scorpion aboard its shell. Halfway across, the scorpion gave in to its nature and stung, but failed to penetrate the turtle’s thick shell. The turtle, swimming placidly, failed to notice.

They reached the other side of the river, and parted ways as friends.

___

…Halfway across, the scorpion gave in to its nature and stung, but failed to penetrate the turtle’s thick shell.

The turtle, hearing the tap of the scorpion’s sting, was offended at the scorpion’s ungratefulness. Thankfully, having been granted the powers to both defend itself and to punish evil, the turtle sank beneath the waters and drowned the scorpion out of principle.

___

A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. “Do I look like a fool?” sneered the frog. “You’d sting me if I let you on my back.”

The scorpion pleaded earnestly. “Do you think so little of me? Please, I must cross the river. What would I gain from stinging you? I would only end up drowning myself!”

“That’s true,” the frog acknowledged. “Even a scorpion knows to look out for its own skin. Climb aboard, then!”

But as they forged through the rushing waters, the scorpion grew worried. This frog thinks me a ruthless killer, it thought. Would it not be justified in throwing me off now and ridding the world of me? Why else would it agree to this? Every jostle made the scorpion more and more anxious, until the frog surged forward with a particularly large splash, and in panic the scorpion lashed out with its stinger.

“I knew it,” snarled the frog, as they both thrashed and drowned. “A scorpion cannot change its nature.”

___

A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. The frog agreed, but no sooner than they were halfway across the scorpion stung the frog, and they both began to thrash and drown.

“I’ve only myself to blame,” sighed the frog, as they both sank beneath the waters. “You, you’re a scorpion, I couldn’t have expected anything better. But I knew better, and yet I went against my judgement! And now I’ve doomed us both!”

“You couldn’t help it,” said the scorpion mildly. “It’s your nature.” 

___

…“Why on earth did you do that?” the frog said morosely. “Now we’re both going to die.”

“Alas, I was of two natures,” said the scorpion. “One said to gratefully ride your back across the river, and the other said to sting you where you stood. And so both fought, and neither won.” It smiled wistfully. “Ah, it would be nice to be just one thing, wouldn’t it? Unadulterated in nature. Without the capacity for conflict or regret.”

___

“By the way,” said the frog, as they swam, “I’ve been meaning to ask: What’s on the other side of the river?”

“It’s the journey,” said the scorpion. “Not the destination.”

___

…“What’s on the other side of anything?” said the scorpion. “A new beginning.”

___

…”Another scorpion to mate with,” said the scorpion. “And more prey to kill, and more living bodies to poison, and a forthcoming lineage of cruelties that you will be culpable in.”

___

…”Nothing we will live to see, I fear,” said the scorpion. “Already the currents are growing stronger, and the river seems like it shall swallow us both. We surge forward, and the shoreline recedes. But does that mean our striving was in vain?”

___

“I love you,” said the scorpion.

The frog glanced upward. “Do you?”

“Absolutely. Can you imagine the fear of drowning? Of course not. You’re a frog. Might as well be scared of breathing air. And yet here I am, clinging to your back, as the waters rage around us. Isn’t that love? Isn’t that trust? Isn’t that necessity? I could not kill you without killing myself. Are we not inseparable in this?”

The frog swam on, the both of them silent.

___

“I’m so tired,” murmured the frog eventually. “How much further to the other side? I don’t know how long we’ve been swimming. I’ve been treading water. And it’s getting so very dark.”

“Shh,” the scorpion said. “Don’t be afraid.”

The frog’s legs kicked out weakly. “How long has it been? We’re lost. We’re lost! We’re doomed to be cast about the waters forever. There is no land. There’s nothing on the other side, don’t you see!”

“Shh, shh,” said the scorpion. “My venom is a hallucinogenic. Beneath its surface, the river is endlessly deep, its currents carrying many things.” 

“You - You’ve killed us both,” said the frog, and began to laugh deliriously. “Is this - is this what it’s like to drown?” 

“We’ve killed each other,” said the scorpion soothingly. “My venom in my glands now pulsing through your veins, the waters of your birthing pool suffusing my lungs. We are engulfing each other now, drowning in each other. I am breathless. Do you feel it? Do you feel my sting pierced through your heart?”

“What a foolish thing to do,” murmured the frog. “No logic. No logic to it at all.”

“We couldn’t help it,” whispered the scorpion. “It’s our natures. Why else does anything in the world happen? Because we were made for this from birth, darling, every moment inexplicable and inevitable. What a crazy thing it is to fall in love, and yet - It’s all our fault! We are both blameless. We’re together now, darling. It couldn’t have happened any other way.”

___

“It’s funny,” said the frog. “I can’t say that I trust you, really. Or that I even think very much of you and that nasty little stinger of yours to begin with. But I’m doing this for you regardless. It’s strange, isn’t it? It’s strange. Why would I do this? I want to help you, want to go out of my way to help you. I let you climb right onto my back! Now, whyever would I go and do a foolish thing like that?”

___

A scorpion, not knowing how to swim, asked a frog to carry it across the river. “Do I look like a fool?” said the frog. “You’d sting me if I let you on my back!”

“Be logical,” said the scorpion. “If I stung you I’d certainly drown myself.”  

“That’s true,” the frog acknowledged. “Come aboard, then!” But no sooner had the scorpion mounted the frog’s back than it began to sting, repeatedly, while still safely on the river’s bank.

The frog groaned, thrashing weakly as the venom coursed through its veins, beginning to liquefy its flesh. “Ah,” it muttered. “For some reason I never considered this possibility.”

“Because you were never scared of me,” the scorpion whispered in its ear. “You were never scared of dying. In a past life you wore a shell and sat in judgement. And then you were reborn: soft-skinned, swift, unburdened, as new and vulnerable as a child, moving anew through a world of children. How could anyone ever be cruel, you thought, seeing the precariousness of it all?” The scorpion bowed its head and drank. “How could anyone kill you without killing themselves?”

[m4st4rd]

…no. Doctor Avery wouldn’t do that, would he?

[ The Art of Love and War - Chapter 7: Unmarked.] @fireflywritesgt has captured me with their story and universe and characters and there's no stopping this madness.

First draft + final lineart. I'm not extremely happy with the final result, especially since they don't look like Harry and Joe at all. But here we go :')

[m4st4rd]

One of my favourite moments from Chapter 15 of "The Art of Love and War", by @fireflywritesgt <3

these two will be the death of me just you wait juST- im dskjhfdjhfsijdf