#i think i succeeded in this here

[novantinuum]

it's midnight, quick drop wips

[imminent-danger-came]

“I felt the red-winged man gaze, I heard him speaking. I know who you are, he said, there are two ways this can go, no, three ways. I don’t want to count the ways, I said, I just want to finish it. I need to get to the end. His wings lifted and sanked. Oh my darling, he said, you’re a long way from the end.”

— Anne Carson, H of H Playbook

[elvisqueso]

"...Will you go home?" — "Well, it's not like I have much of a home to go back to. I've never really...belonged anywhere."

Pocahontas (1995)

[corpish]

i took this video after doing chest day at the gym and ngl my lips are kinda giving Princess Peach lol

[patt-is-cool]

i miss winter

[not-terezi-pyrope]

There's a recurring issue that keeps happening in fantasy discourse that keeps happening to creators where including monsters in your worldbuilding gets distorted into a sort of fascist intent as people get gradually lore desensitised to said monsters and they become more and more a "mundane" or "natural" part of the fictional world in people's minds.

Here's how it works, from my observation.

The monster, as a concept, is an ancient mainstay of all fiction as it is a mainstay of the human psyche, representing primal fears and the abstract (unrealistic!) horror of the other. It has carved out an important role in media as an element that is broadly understood to be a thrilling antagonistic force that is removed from anything in the real world.

An author wants to write a story about heroes who regularly encounter and fight multiple monsters, because this is mechanically important for the type of media or narrative (maybe a video game world needs many creatures to fight, the high fantasy protagonist needs a "monster force" to threaten the world, the ghost hunter type hero needs various ghosts and ghouls to fight off each week.

The story gets released into the world and people become used to the monsters existing, to the extent that they begin to lose the narrative lens of the monster in their minds. They begin to treat the otherworldly monster as an element of the world, and then the idea of the monster as a purely antagonistic or evil force begins to sound absurd, as it is for any type of being in the real world, especially if the monster is intelligent. People get interested in subverting these elements of the monster, and derivative works including the type of monster begin to explore stories in which the monsters are actually neutral/good, but misunderstood, actors, due to their monstrous appearance or similar.

This interpretation of the monster as another kind of person, or benign animal, becomes widespread, with the monster solidified as a concrete part of the world in a way that is divorced from their conception as an unrealistic, otherworldly threat.

People look back at the original source work, and go, "hey! Why was the author so intent on displaying this group of creature as inherently gruesome and evil? This sounds like fascism!" And it makes sense why they think that, except that they have forgotten that said author was writing about a type of monster instead of an analogy for a human group or race. As such, with enough time and reinterpretation, people can find grounds to accuse authors of fascism for the crime of merely writing about monsters, which kind of sucks as a thing to do, in my opinion.

I think the Tolkien/D&D style Orc is the prototypical example of this, although there are many others, really it happens to some extent with any sort of "monster species" where there is more than one horror creature in your world. This is not to say that you can't interrogate issues with how certain monsters are portrayed - why evil orcs are portrayed with darker skin colours sometimes, for example, or... Pretty much everything going on with a lot of goblin-esque creatures, but I think it's important to remember that this is a different sort of criticism from, for instance, "Tolkien and the D&D people believe that certain types of being are inherent evil and need to be wiped out".

Because we can't forget that they were not writing a real type of person or creature, but a type of monster, and monsters are understood to be an unrealistic, otherworldly narrative contrivance. You have problems making them fit into the real world with a just mindset because they do not exist in the real world, they exist as monsters, and were written with this understanding that there is a common understanding of what that means and how it should be understood.

I feel like people need to keep that in mind in their analysis, else pretty much any creative can be smeared retrospectively for writing about monsters whatsoever. I think monsters are pretty cool in fiction and important to the human psyche, and think that they have a crucial place, as long as we remember the lens through which they should be considered in their conception, which is inherently outside of material reality.

That's also not to say we shouldn't subvert and interrogate and adapt monster tropes either, but doing so doesn't mean throwing out the original ideas as having gone rotten.

[sandovore]

I DID IT I DID IT !!! I’ve been trying for so long aaaaaand I don’t know if I could draw them again-

Makes me happy tho

[astrobei]

cringefail mike truther in that he is not always good at flirting On Purpose (but luckily will loves it anyway) and gets flustered easily and says the most out of pocket shit and cracks bad jokes to lighten the tension and has a train wreck of an internal monologue and is so well practiced at running mental gymnastics to avoid his issues that he could win gold at the olympics. NOT a cringefail mike truther in that he is bumbling and useless and incapable of holding a weapon without killing himself and screams like a little girl in the face of danger and is a total damsel in distress and, for some reason, wins every poll asking “who’s the worst at ___” even if it’s something he’s canonically good at

[hplonesomeart]

Whoops! Looks like this network is running on an outdated script, needs some immediate changes I’m afraid. But stay tuned during this brief commercial break as things get tidied up, we’ll be back on track in no time!

…..that was a long winded way of saying I’ve finished making some Mr. Puzzles fanart and I like how it looks :3

Bonus content section wahooo here’s the art without the dialogue included

By the way incase anyone is curious what the jumbled words scattered around are talking about- it’s song lyrics to Still Waiting by Jazz Emu. Was one of the inspirations to make Puzzle’s art since the whole thing is about getting immersed into watching television to an unhealthy extent that it pushes your loved ones away :)) seemed fitting

Also here’s a close up shot of just his face, taken by my wonderful phone camera which (for whatever reason) automatically puts a darker filter on it! Plus added pixel patterns from the screen itself kinda adding to the whole glitchy wave ambiance. Feel free to do whatever with it just please credit me somewhere and we all good 👍

[leo-kinnie]

I Told You Not To Play With The Misfit Toys

[princess-of-purple-prose]

Fish, 7 (For your prompts! ❤️)

Hi, anon!! Thank you for the prompt, you were the very first one to send one in! 7 was, again, the wildcard, so I randomly generated a different number to land on Yue Qingyuan (from Scum Villain)! I have no choice but to dedicate this to @bytedykes, because I told her about this prompt and she said “yqy pet fish mental health speedrun” and we went, uh, a little insane about it. Enjoy some yuefang, folks!!!!

“Mu-xiong,” Yue Qingyuan says. “I’m sorry to bother you. Are you available?”

“Yue-xiong is never a bother,” Mu Qingfang says warmly. “And I am, actually, yes. Is everything okay, Yue-xiong?”

“I think I need help.” A bit dramatic, perhaps, and Yue Qingyuan hates to trouble Mu Qingfang on a rare day off, but Yue Qingyuan and impulse have never been the best combination, and he would appreciate a second opinion.

Mu Qingfang’s voice turns hard. “Where are you? I'll come right away.”

“What—?” Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone like the blank call screen will tell him why Mu Qingfang suddenly sounds so serious. “I'm at home, but—”

“I'll be right there,” Mu Qingfang says, and hangs up.

Yue Qingyuan stares at his phone for another second, then lifts his gaze to his sparkling new aquarium. His new betta, white and black and resplendent of fin, stares back. Was his crisis of faith about his viability as a fish owner really so deserving of such urgency…?

—

“So,” Mu Qingfang says. “This was your emergency?” He looks about as unimpressed by the betta as it does by the two of them.

Yue Qingyuan feels obscurely like he’s being scolded. Mu Qingfang is one of the nicest men he knows, but that just means that his censure takes the form of a blunt instrument of mass disappointment.

“In my defense,” he points out meekly, “I didn’t say there was an emergency. Mu-xiong just assumed.”

“That’ll teach me,” Mu Qingfang huffs, but at least he looks amused. “Yue-xiong should get used to asking for help more so this gege doesn’t have to panic every time he does ask.”

Yue Qingyuan’s mouth almost drops open. He can only hope his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Er—well, I asked this time, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Mu Qingfang allows, looking something horribly close to fond. Yue Qingyuan swallows and tries to hurry on.

“So—not an emergency, but I do want your opinion,” he coughs out. “I’m having… doubts. About the fish.” Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows contract. Yue Qingyuan rushes it out. “Do you think I should keep it?”

“Yue-xiong…” Mu Qingfang looks politely incredulous. “Why does my opinion matter? The fish is already yours, isn’t it? If you don’t think maintaining its upkeep will be feasible, that’s one thing, but… Surely Yue-xiong did the research before getting it?”

He doesn’t sound judgemental, but Yue Qingyuan feels his cheeks warm. “I did, but I wasn’t planning on getting a fish; I was only admiring the tanks. There was a salesperson who was… very insistent.”

Mu Qingfang regards him doubtfully, which is fair. Yue Qingyuan towers over most people he meets, and his bulk only further adds to the impression of immovability. It’s only when he opens his mouth that it becomes clear how spineless he actually is.

Yue Qingyuan falters. “I had thought… I thought it might be nice.” The bettas had seemed so majestic in their tanks, iridiscent monarchs of false grass and plastic coves, and Yue Qingyuan had thought, wildly, that one might be rewarding to keep, might breathe a touch of life into his immaculately sleek living room. The whole affair hadn’t even been expensive by his shiny new standards, forget difficult to physically arrange. It was only when installation and set-up for his new aquarium had finished and he was left to watch that jewel-bright being swim disaffectedly through its new home that doubt had seized him, all-consuming and black. He had, admittedly, panicked a little after that.

(Yue Qingyuan’s apartment is very large, and very clean, and very empty. It holds the barest amount of decoration and muss to qualify as lived-in rather than a snapshot from a magazine ad. The fish may, in fact, be the only thing in the entire place which really qualifies as his. No wonder Yue Qingyuan wanted to jettison it from his life as soon as he got it.)

Mu Qingfang’s expression hovers between concern and simple confusion. “I’m sure Yue-xiong will be a more than adequate caretaker,” he says, more gently than Yue Qingyuan and all his neuroses probably deserve. “What’s this really about, Yue-xiong?”

Ah. There it is. Being the mildest person of Yue Qingyuan’s admittedly sharp-tongued social circle doesn’t preclude Mu Qingfang’s wit from being as keen as the scalpels he works with.

“I don’t…” Yue Qingyuan falters. How to express to Mu Qingfang how manifestly unfit Yue Qingyuan is to care for any living creature at all? He changes tack. “I think he hates me,” he admits dolefully.

Mu Qingfang stares at him for a long time, long enough to imply that he’s reevaluating certain opinions about Yue Qingyuan’s intelligence. “Yue-xiong, with all due respect to your new pet—it’s a fish.”

“Fish have emotions!” Yue Qingyuan argues. He flushes at the volume at which it comes out, and at the way Mu Qingfang’s eyes go wide-eyed in startlement. But the salesperson had been very insistent about that, as well. “Bettas are intelligent animals. They dislike certain colors, apparently, and they’re very sensitive—ah, to environmental disruptions, that is. And—”

Mu Qingfang’s eyebrows are still high, but his face has relaxed into a smile. “It sounds to me like you like it quite a bit already. Isn’t that reason enough to keep it?” His tone curls with sudden mischief. “Have heart, Yue-xiong—you’ve hardly known each other for a day! Give it time to adjust to you, and I’m sure you’ll win it over as surely as you do everyone else.” And he grins, sure and easy in his trust that Yue Qingyuan won’t fumble and shatter something so small and monumental as a life that he could cup in his palms.

While Yue Qingyuan is still dazed by that, Mu Qingfang’s eyes alight with interest. “Ah, Yue-xiong—what have you named it?”

“...”

Mu Qingfang’s face falls as devastatingly as it had lit up. “Yue-xiong…”

“Mu-xiong is aware that I was unsure of whether or not I’d keep him!” Yue Qingyuan is terribly aware that his ears are now heating up to match his cheeks. Mu Qingfang’s ensuing laughter does not help with that matter.

Yue Qingyuan is not very good at holding onto things. More often than not, he makes a mess of whatever he’s set his clumsy hands to, lets it fall right through his scarred fingers. But Mu Qingfang’s words ring through his head: Isn’t that reason enough to keep it? And, well, isn’t it? Surely Yue Qingyuan is adult enough to follow through on this. Maybe happiness can be look like his new betta swimming up to the tank to observe the new colorful form moving in front of it, can come as easy as Mu Qingfang quipping that his knowledge about fish is clearly lacking and vowing casually to read up on bettas to be a better fish uncle.

Yue Qingyuan buries a smile and walks over to let Mu Qingfang know that bettas can be trained to follow fingers around. The betta’s clear preference for Mu Qingfang over Yue Qingyuan is as good a marker of intelligence as any fun fact the pet shop worker could have given him. Yes, Yue Qingyuan thinks with a smile—he thinks he’ll be keeping this after all.

[deansmom]

The fact that the spn fandom is entirely incapable of a nuanced discussion involving Dean and the relationship with his mother shouldn’t surprise me as much as it did when I came back to fandom, and as much as it still does when I’m forced to see it with my own two eyeballs

Mary Winchester was a person before she was a mother, and I’m going to be so honest with you, I think by the time she died, John didn’t like who that person was. So I think when she died, he did what a lot of people do, which is put the person they lost on a pedestal. And that’s who Dean grew up hearing about, that’s what all of his memories of his mom were contextualized with, this person who didn’t exist. And so then his mom comes back and I think it’s very, very clear to Dean almost immediately that this isn’t the same person John told him about.

In the real world, we have no context to draw from and nothing to compare it to, the experience of getting a dead parent back and to be part of your life again. We can’t know how he felt beyond what we were shown in canon - So of course Dean is thrilled, but he’s also a Winchester and deeply traumatized, and tries so hard to make it seem normal and not internalize his complicated feelings about her and her being alive. He’s dealing with:

Grappling with losing the mother he was told she was and resenting mary for it because she’s standing in front of him

Realizing that John robbed so much from him by denying him the version of his mother who feels like looking in a mirror

The guilt of how and why mary is there

Trying to reconcile his feelings of resentment and anger that he knows should be directed at John, but John’s not there, so they end up getting directed at mary, and feeling bad about that

A deeply traumatized inner child who has his safe person back, and just wants his mom to hold him and tell him it’s going to be okay, but he knows that isn’t fair to ask of her

And meanwhile mary was dealing with

✨trauma✨ from being brought back to life

Having to confront her own failures as a parent (which is silly it’s not her fault she died but y’know, feelings tend to be silly)

Having to reconcile her toddler with the man in front of her who’s older than her being her son

Seeing so much of John’s worst qualities in both of them and recognizing the trauma of a shitty dad

The fact that they had this idea of who she was, and it’s nothing like her at all, and trying to understand why John would lie to them while also probably coming to terms with what looks like confirmation of her own worst fears about who she was as a parent

I cannot stress this enough: the last time her feet touched the ground, she had been married, with a new baby, and a 4 year old, she wasn’t a hunter, John barely knew about hunting, and it was the 80’s. She woke up in what, 2017 and her husband’s dead, her babies are grown men (again: older than her!!!) and the most prolific hunters in the world. Oh, also, angels? God? The afterlife?? Funny story! Like I’m sorry, you wanted her to have well-adjusted coping skills for that????

The Mary hate just gets me because she’s Dean in a different font, and so many of y’all hate her for such superficial bullshit that you could let go of if you took 5 seconds to think about the situation critically for both of them. The only bad guy here is, was and will always be John Winchester. John was there, but Mary tried her best. Mary tried to do what was best for them when she left, because she didn’t want to damage their idea of who she was anymore than she had. Mary literally died trying to save Sam from the destiny that heaven had written for him - John couldn’t be bothered to think about his kids.

And if you think that Dean ever genuinely hated Mary, your critical thinking skills need some work. The thing that prompts his speech in 12.22 is Mary saying to his younger self, “I only want good things for you, Dean. I'll never let anything bad happen to you.” So he says

I hate you. And I love you. 'Cause I can't – I can't help it. You're my Mom. And I understand...'cause I have made deals to save the ones I love more than once.

I forgive you. I forgive you. For all of it. Everything. On the other side of this, we can start over, okay? You, me, Sam. We can get it right this time. But I need you to fight. Right now, I need you to fight. I need you – I need you to look at me, Mom. I need you to really look at me and see me. Mom, I need you to see me. Please.

Translation: “you’re right. I resent you for not being the person I was sold, I resent you for your death being the thing that ruined dad, I resent you for being the touchstone for so many of heaven’s plans for us. I resent you because you’re here, and John isn’t, and it’s easier to hate someone tangible than someone dead. And if I hate you, it’s only because I can see so much of myself in you, and I’m so incredibly angry that John treated us the way he did. My whole world, my whole identity revolves around you being someone that you never were, and wrapping my head around that is scary, but when I pull my head out of my ass and look around, you were just a kid. And you did your best, you’ve always tried to do what’s best for me and Sam, and I don’t hate you. I don’t know if I like you right now because you’re a stranger, which is scary - but I love you. So please, mom, I’m sorry that I’ve been taking my bullshit out on you. Just… try. For me. Please.”

Anyways!!! You guys don’t deserve Mary.

[saturday-byte]

Incredibly catered to me but I love doing this to characters I like . Argentinization beam

I was going to translate stuff but I decided it's not worth it it's just stupiddd and probably doesn't translate well anyway bc there's a shitload of slang just trust I'm funny

[cntmtrarts]

In an effort to simplify my art some, I present to you - fifteen minute Daryls!

…why do they look like that tho…

[mishapen-moth]

will i see tomorrow (could you face me again)

read here

Ponyboy is kneeling in the still, quiet night between the lifeless bodies of his brothers, handsome faces carved out garishly in crimson and rust, horror and despair sucking all of the air out of the night. Their chests are as still as the evening, the faint flickering of the yellow street lamp illuminating their lack of animation.

In a blur, the Camaro reappears, bearing down on him until the headlights white out his vision.

All at once, he’s bolting upright in bed, chest heaving like he’s just run ten miles, a strangled shout that sounds an awful lot like ‘No!’ lodged behind his teeth as he tries to keep his head from swimming at the sudden motion.

[brother-emperors]

ascanio and louis xii

so

Milan Undone, Contested Sovereignties in the Italian Wars, John Gagné

extremely bold of louis xii to assume that ascanio, who has a reputation for conspiracy, wouldn't turn around and say 'fuck you,' after all of that™

(Ibid.)

it IS funny how men in power keep thinking they can put him on a leash like, pal. the odds are NOT in your favor