I Love How They’re Already Getting Into Their Roles. It’s Adorable 🥰

you can click on this button once daily to help palestine and support other causes in the middle east for free. it takes literally 5 seconds and could help save lives so please take the time to click and share this link.

Can I bless your dash tonight with some smol Dream/Morpheus?

For the love of god, share this around. Death can and is going to be portrayed as a black woman. In the Dreaming: Waking Hour #6, we see her as a black woman, so it completely valid for her to be portrayed by a black woman. (The Endless can be portrayed in whatever forms they wish to)

I can’t even-💀💀💀

All this talk about Batman reminds me of this quote from Neil Gaiman in regard to Sandman.

Literal definition of spyware:

Also From Microsoft’s own FAQ: "Note that Recall does not perform content moderation. It will not hide information such as passwords or financial account numbers. 🤡

Hawks Villain Report TLs

Since some people asked and I wanted to practice translating again. Thanks for requesting!

As usual, please do not repost these in other sites without my permission. If someone really wants to typeset this, please refer to DMs. 

Also weirdly, this report uses “individuality” instead of “quirks” for some reason. I guess they didn’t reference the EN localization lol.

*****

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So I created new memes... @caelum-in-the-avatarverse I’m sure you can tell which of your ocs are my favorites

inevitable for the prompts?

I never really got around to finishing this piece from a longer series about the American Civil War because my interests steered a bit away from purely American history. Alfred is writing to Arthur after the Trent Affair and the resulting Lyons-Seward treaty that took the US and UK nearly from being in a state of war over the possible British acknowledgement of the Confederacy to the British and American navies formally working to end the Atlantic slave trade and informally support the Union's blockade of the south's maritime trade. Idk if anyone remembers it, but it takes place after a piece I wrote where Matt holds Clara Barton and several Union doctors at the end of a rifle to keep them from hacking Alfred's leg off. Also, Alfred's in really bad shape and actually misses Arthur so that is why the tone is muuuuuch different than it usually is between them and also I based it off actual letters in my archive at work when I had to put together a collection of them, and human suffering rips my heart out through my ribs even 160 years later :')

Virginia 1862

Dear Father,

Yes, I meant to write father. This note is penned in a trembling hand, but it will be at my behest that Matthew delivers it to you. It will be my last before I meet with Death again, and I find myself filled with a strange heartsickness and gratitude. Thank you, Father, for releasing Matthew from his services to you. I do not know in what spirit you did so, but I am grateful. He has been a great comfort to me these past days and has endeavoured with the devil's determination to keep me alive. He may have told you about his actions at Antietam on my behalf, but I know he did not tell you of the credit to you he is nor the courage with which he conducted himself. There is no better brother nor a better son god could have divined for our providence in his wisdom. I say all this not merely out of praise for him, though he always deserves as much, but to urge you to heed the words he will speak to you at my bidding and the requests he will make.

As I said, this is my last letter to you. I have been struck by a piece of shell and find my left shoulder horribly mangled, and I know death is inevitable and that it will not be a brief absence from the world. I am writing to you because I know you would be delighted to hear from your dying son. I hope it is a relieved delight and not a satisfied one because I think of my deaths as a boy again and again. And of the lessons you once had so much patience for. I am fragile; death is near, and I will die very far from home, Father. I am home, this is my own country, but it rejects me as this life will soon enough and so I am far from it.

This is why I write to you now, beyond just the strange sickness in my heart that seems little to do with my wounds. Matthew will write to you as well, at my request, with more detail and perhaps even more than that when he next sees you. He will, at least, give you the particulars of this death. I will send along some goods dry and sundry for you and our family. Matthew has clipped a lock of my hair for you and has collected my cufflinks and rings for Aunt Brighid, for she has been a mother to me these past years. He is to purchase Birds of America and any other Audobon he can find for your youngest, as I have been told they apparently longed for a copy of their own. Across my country, the sons of my republic fall and their families mourn. I do not want to go unmourned by my own family, as temporary as it may be and as little as we desire those ties. Please, allow me these gifts and what affection you have left for me in your heart if you need to deny what I ask next.

The land beneath my feet is alien to me. It is a place in Virginia, and it rejects me. I am, at this moment, only the Union. The place I was born, where you proudly first beheld me on a beach at the mouth of the James River, rejects me. There is no replacement for me yet. God, and your judgement willing, that will not change. If I must beg you for my life, father, I will. If there is any love of me in your chest, do not acknowledge the Confederacy. My life is slipping from my fingers, and if I cannot have the comfort I knew as a boy from you, please allow me to keep the gift of my life. You know as much as I do that the cause for which I have fought and died is just if there be any justice under God's eye. Please, Father, for the sake of any love you bore me, keep your hand on my shoulder and do not guide me into my grave. Even if it is only because I am the devil you know, stay your hand in your acknowledgement of the Confederacy and steer me from my permanent rest. We have made such progress these past months, and I do not wish to see our family's blood shed for any reason.

Matthew will also make my appeals. I beg you to listen. I beg you to listen and that this letter bids my shockingly fond and long farewell, Father. May we meet again in this life, by your doing and your love of me matched only by the boyhood fondness I have of you still. With faith and great filial love, I wish you good health and good bye as I meet this end.

Your dying boy,

Alfred FitzArthur Jones.

For those of you who weren’t able to get 100% of the total solar eclipse today… I gotchu <3

I think everyone has forgotten that the most important thing about the casting of Death in Netflix’s The Sandman is that she can successfully bounce a loaf of bread off of Tom Sturridge’s head.