i saw the original

i know eurovision is amazing and some of the performances are totally incredible, but whenever someone mentions eurovision around me all i can ever think about is that one time Ireland sent out a mechanical turkey that just screamed “give Ireland 12 points” for the entirety of the song

She’s the betta half of the two

White women really need to stop writing fics and making graphics and art about interracial f/f ships in which the visibly brown or black woman in the ship serves as the “knight” or “lionheart” for the white woman who’s portrayed as the “queen” or “princess”. You all are being transparent and gross as hell. For once, consider how lbpq women of color are already painted as angry and brutal. Consider how lbpq women of color aren’t allowed to be soft or vulnerable or sensitive. Consider that they can’t be romantically or sexually autonomous without being fetishized by the male gaze and the white, colonial gaze, especially if they’re trans. Consider that the next time you begin outlining an AU or storyline in which the woman of color is the knight for her white savior princess. 

anonymous asked:

If one hypothetically wanted to read your Eldritch Abomination Garfield fic, how would one go about finding it as directly searching for 'garfield' hypothetically does not include the fic?

“They bought it?” Lyman asked as Jon hung up the phone.

“I got the contract,” Jon confirmed, dazed. “I’m — I’m syndicated.”

“You did it, man!” Lyman said, clapping him on the back. Odie barked.

“They’re already thinking about merchandising deals,” Jon continued, staring into space.

“I told you things were going to turn around for you,” Lyman said with a nod. Odie continued barking, making it clear that he was not just trying to be supportive. “Hey, look, I’ve gotta take the dog for a walk. If the alarm goes off while I’m gone, can you take dinner out of the oven?”

“Yeah,” Jon said, with no real conception of what he was agreeing to. He still had not yet finished processing that phone call, the idea that he was going to be paid, consistently, that he was a working cartoonist, that his comics would be in papers. Merchandising deals. Merchandising.

It was not until he heard the door that Jon realized he was alone in the apartment.

Just him, and Garfield.

From the corner, it growled.

Jon’s heart spasmed; he hadn’t realized it was in the same room. “H—hey,” he said. It would have been a dumb thing to say if it was a normal cat. It was a dumber thing to say under the circumstances. Its eyes glowed red in the shadows. “How are you?” he asked, then winced as the cat growled again. “Heard the good news?” he asked weakly.

MY END OF THE CONTRACT HAS BEEN FULFILLED

It rumbled through his brain like an earthquake, words without words. He covered his ears even though it wouldn’t help. “Yeah, thanks for—”

I WILL FEED

Jon’s heart spasmed again, overwhelmed with the sense of a hunger not his own. “Right, about that—”

YOU WILL FEED ME it said, words written in blood, thick and hot.

“—yes, I got that, I’m just not really sure what I’m supposed to—”

MEAT and the word throbbed, tore.

“Would chicken be okay?”

UNACCEPTABLE it said in broken bone and jellied marrow.

“I don’t want to stereotype you by assuming you want to eat my roommate—”

YES GIVE ME HIS HEART it said, pulsing, torn flesh.

“—but you can’t eat Lyman.”

I͇̤͜ ̭̩W̨͕̪̠͙I̧̫͍͕̤̥̥̥L̜̜̭͔̪͢L̡͉͍͍͓̣ ͇F̤̜E̤̱̼̩͙̺͢E̥̳̫D̯͚̰ͅ

The glowing eyes moved from the shadows, grew larger, taller. Hellfire, if fire could cast dark instead of light, orange and red, fire and blood. The indistinct shape that might have been a cat became an indistinct shape that might have been a man, large, always large. Jon shrank back as it stretched to fill the room, tried not to look directly at it. Hot breath and sharp teeth against his skin, even though it couldn’t have been, because he was still wearing his jacket.

There was a chiming sound.

WHAT WAS THAT

“Uh.” Jon swallowed, hard. “Dinner?”

FOOD

“Yes,” Jon said, “but I don’t know if you can eat people food…”

Garfield sat in the middle of the floor, wide as it was tall. Its gaze was baleful.

“Right. You can eat whatever you want.” Slowly Jon inched around the cat to head toward the kitchen. “I don’t really know what it is, though. It might be… vegan.”

Garfield hissed, the sound of pain, and Jon fled toward the oven.

I SMELL MEAT

Jon stopped himself from telling the cat get off the counter. “I think it’s a casserole,” he said, removing the dish to set it on the stove. He gingerly removed the lid, his hands safely wrapped in oven mitts. “Oh. It’s lasagna.”

GIVE IT TO ME

“It has to cool,” Jon said. Garfield hissed again, and the sound turned Jon’s blood to fiberglass. He backed away, and the cat leapt bodily and entirely into the baked pasta. It did not seem bothered by the fact that the pasta sauce was still bubbling, and Jon tried not to look at the void of its mouth. A black hole rimmed with fangs, an absence of all light, drawing in all that it touched to disappear within.

WHAT IS THIS it asked, and a hellfire paw batted at a stretchy piece of mozzarella.

“… cheese?”

The cat-shaped thing nodded, still sitting in the dish of lasagna.

WE DO NOT HAVE THIS

“You don’t have cheese in hell?”

It nodded again.

“I guess that’s what makes it hell.” If Garfield appreciated this observation, it did not show it. It cracked open its maw again, more lasagna disappearing, and Jon looked away. “That lasagna was supposed to feed us for a week,” he sighed. “How much longer do I need to do this?” he asked.

UNTIL YOU ARE SATISFIED

“Until I’m satisfied?”

YOU MUST FEED ME TO SATISFY YOUR HUNGER

Realization dawned. “Wait, but — I thought this was a one-time thing.”

IT WAS NOT

“If you leave, I get fired?”

PERHAPS

“So I might still be able to make it on my own.”

DO YOU BELIEVE YOUR SKILL IS ENOUGH TO BRING YOU ALL THAT YOU DESIRE

Jon thought of the portfolio sitting in his room, and sagged. “… no.”

It grew, limbs stretching, claws turning to fingers and then claws again. It sat on the counter like a solid mirage, licking red from its hands.

YOU WILL HAVE RICHES BEYOND YOUR WILDEST DREAMS it said in truffle oil and fur and gold. SO LONG AS I AM FED YOU WILL NEVER KNOW HUNGER

Syndication and merchandising deals and maybe someday a cartoon on television. His signature in every newspaper in every house in the country. In the world, even. He raked his fingers through his curls and tried not to look at its claws.

“I guess I’m stuck with you, then,” Jon said.

It didn’t slide off the counter the way a man would, shifted off like drifting smoke or licking flames, stood and was no shorter. Tall and broad and solid, a weight to its presence as it moved closer. Jon shrank back again as it loomed, and this show of submission seemed to please it. Hot breath and sharp teeth against his skin again, and he shivered.

YES YOU ARE



“What’s so bad about reposting?”

“It’s easy to make gifs, who cares.“ 

 Wrong. 

And here’s why: 

  • Presumably, you’re reposting because you either: 

a) don’t have access to the video that’s gif’d because you don’t know where it’s from or you don’t know how to download it. Which already proves that making gifs is difficult because of the time spent video hunting and downloading. (You’d be surprised how hard it is to download videos from certain websites.)

b) don’t have access to photoshop, because you’re not sure how to download it, or you do have it but don’t know how to work it. Which again, proves making gifs is difficult because it’s more than just right clicking then saving as (which is what reposting is - so if you catch yourself doing this, stop!) You have to learn how to use photoshop to actually make a gif, and to actually use photoshop you have to know how and where to download it. Some people even pay for it, and it’s extremely unfair to those that do because something they essentially paid for is getting stolen from them.

  • Gifs are not even just about being able to do the basic load files into stacks or import layers from frames, whichever method of gif making you prefer. Nope. It’s about coloring as well, which makes your gif unique and different from someone else’s. People spend time making their gifs look nice in addition to spending their time looking for the right video and whatnot. 

So have some respect for people that do their best to provide you with pretty gifs on your dashboard to reblog >:( 

(No, it does not count if you repost someone’s gif and “give credit”, especially if the source is “it’s not mine but I found it on Google”. Tumblr made a beautiful function called a REBLOG. Use it. It’s your best friend.) 

Next time you say, “everyone reposts” or “they’re just gifs”, keep in mind making gifs isn’t actually as easy as some people belittle it to be! Try making gifs for yourself and see how hard it is. Really, try. 

(And if you’re thinking, “oh making gifs is so easy! I’ve tried it!” then it literally costs you $0.00 to make your own gifs and gain notes through your own hard work. Seriously. Stop taking credit for someone else’s hard work.)

Stopping reposts can happen if you take a step to stop yourself from reposting and letting others know why it’s bad too. If no one tells you what you’re doing is wrong, how would you know what you’re doing isn’t right? One by one, we can all eventually stop reposting because it’s very disrespectful to artists (yes, gif makers are considered artists too). If you want notes, earn them yourself just like how every original content makers do. And even if you can’t make anything yourself, don’t be mean. Support people’s works. 

(This applies to everyone that makes original content, fan art, fan fiction, graphics, etc. The steps in between to make them are different, but reposts affect all of us the same. Please stop reposting and respect the artists.)

9

I saw this lovely comic by Max, and I thought I should add a little something of my own.

They get gold rings, eventually.