#November jones

[falindankovsky]

Thinking about the idea of same as it never was Leon and breaking my heart :(

[harveyguillensource]

Harvey spreading a lovely holiday message from the Shadows family.

[kittarts]

Lanyard charms

Preorder here

[royalarchivist]

Cellbit: In- in Spanish, there is "papi," papi also works like "daddy."

Phil: Ahhh. [Laughs]

Baghera: Ah, papi!

Foolish: [High-pitched voice] Papi!

Carre: Ay, papi chulo! 😩🔥

[Everyone in the call loses it]

Cellbit: I knew it- I knew it–! I was just waiting, I was just waiting! I was- I was just waiting for it.

Phil: I- I kind of knew that was gonna happen, I dunno why.

[mintghostko]

The Trix Foot Clan! 

I suppose if the boys get to be vaguely winx inspired magical girls so does the foot clan (^^ゞ

Wanted to do this for Rise August and I finally got around to drawing them :) pretty late but i had fun ♪(´▽｀)

original Rise August prompt list by @sariphantom :)

individual pictures under the cut :p

[singemall-stayallnight]

Led Zeppelin, various acoustic sets, 1971.

[fatmagic]

[chalamet-chalamet]

Timothée will be on the Graham Norton show on December 20, 2024. Colman Domingo and Andrew Garfield will be fellow guests as well. 💥💥💥

[musickickztoo]

RIP Quincy Jones

March 14, 1933 – November 3, 2024

[alexlacquemanne]

November Who Watch → The Doctor's Daughter

"Listen to me. The killing. After awhile it infects you. And once it does you're never rid of it."

[gremlins-hotel]

Post headcanons abt Arthur and his first baby you coward, you fool. The audience arrived, we are here, yet you stay silent upon the stage.

(Just joking ofc, tho id give you a kidney if you gave us some hcs abt their early days <3)

I know it's not a headcanon, but I hope this will still be satisfactory. A moment between a new father and his first son, to whom Arthur wishes the world.

“You coddle him,” came Rhys’ voice, blunt and teasing.

Arthur waved his brother’s words away. They were meaningless like wayward flecks of spume against the broad side of a ship in the face of the treasure held tight to his chest. Sleepless nights, tears, and the terror of the unknowing life. He had watched his son like a hawk for years, and the boy now grew blessedly stronger. Each time little Alfred grabbed his finger, the babe’s grip was vicelike, and Arthur knew the little chubby squish of pain was worth all his toils.

Alfred burbled up at Arthur, seeing his father’s watchful eyes glimmer, a mostly toothless smile scrunching his small face with joy.

Heart squeezing and eyes wide, Arthur knew he would endure it all again as long as that babe was laughing. Hugging the heavy bundle tighter to his chest, Arthur bounced the boy gently as he fiddled with a pocket of his coat. Life was difficult when one-handed, but he hated putting Alfred down. The troubles a baby could get into with any degree of autonomy he did not wish to imagine, not after famine and disease and blood. Alfred seemed determined to bind the world with his gums if his father allowed him, in any case, and to grab it without hesitation. There were dangers on the floor that the boy approached fearlessly. That determination. It was a good thing to have, Arthur knew, but woeful for life still so seemingly fragile.

A faint jingle answering his seeking fingers told the man he’d found his quarry. Arthur whisked the trinket from his pocket in a closed fist, the toy’s chain hanging from between two fingers. The near-sterling silver rings tinkled prettily against one another as he shook his fist above Alfred’s head. Curiosity lit the deep skies held in his son’s face like stars and Arthur couldn’t keep the soft smile from turning the corners of his mouth, shaking the chain again. Skies and stars indeed, for he had never observed someone to watch the heavens so closely at such a young age. Silently he praised the boy’s curiosity; one day it might have its questions answered if Arthur had anything to say about it. He would give that lad the sky and the seas.

Short, squishy fingers reached up for the chain, seeking the noisemaker with excitement. Arthur raised it away from his baby’s reach and took delight in seeing him try again. So he played the cat-and-mouse, jerking the prize just inches from Alfred’s grasp when he waved his hands skyward. Alfred laughed uproariously each time the toy made its metallic clinking and at seeing the smile on his father’s face. Arthur opened his fingers to reveal the rest of the shining silver toy and raised it to his mouth. One end was a sweet little whistle, which he blew quietly in the face of the babe. A high, windy note spiraled out into the air between them and Alfred laughed again, his entire face bright and bold. It made the boy redouble his efforts.

Arthur finally acquiesced, lowering his hand enough for those ferocious fingers to grip the tiny silver rings and tug. Once more Alfred’s burgeoning strength shot a bolt of pride through the man’s chest. With reluctant fingers he allowed the toy to drop into his son’s happy hands. Little curved talons, blunt by youth, curled around the moon-bright metal like a hunting bird content with its catch. The babe brought the whistle end to his soft mouth and immediately made to teethe on the silver. Tiny puffs of breath made the whistle sing and stutter, and Alfred’s eye glimmered happily, gazing up at Arthur as though he’d hung the heavens. Quickly he slobbered on the toy, but Arthur couldn’t help but feel enraptured by his son, drool or not.

Having forgotten the watching eyes beside him, it was Rhys’ voice that broke his reverie. “You ordered the coral, after all? No measure too small.”

Arthur blinked, looking up and away, then back to the toy in his son’s burbling mouth. The opposite end of the whistle had a stub of red, red coral from lands far away, polished to a beautiful shine. It was worth it to him. Anything to keep winding spirits and the fey away from his boy who had already suffered enough. No measure too small.

“Someday he will not need it, I hope.”

[pernillecfcw]

@chelseafcw - November, that’s a wrap. 🎬

[royalarchivist]

Slimecicle: Yeah dude, fckin'– Fck my arc I'm going on a cannibalism arc, I don't–

Cellbit: [Laughs then gets excited] OH YEAH– [Claps] Come with me, let's fcking go, bro! Let's fcking go!

Slimecicle: Let's fcking do it!

Baghera: I hope at the end we all just eat each other!

Cellbit: It's the most fun one.

Baghera: We lose a limb!

Slimecicle: [Nervous laugh] Um, Cellbit– Why do– why does it sound like you're talking from experience, bro?

Cellbit: Oh, uhhh...

Foolish: Yeah, he was super into that one.

Cellbit: Uh, I– what? No– what? No, nothing!

Foolish: He said "FINALLY!!!"

Cellbit: No– [Laughs] I hadn't said– no–

Slimecicle: Yeah, you were like: "Finally someone else gets it."

Cellbit: I haven't said– no! It was just a good idea!

Jaiden: "Finally" is crazy.

Cellbit: I thought I– yeah, that seems like a creative way of like, having fun and passing the time. Eating people.

[theglitterdome]

Music legend Quincy Jones... Rest In Peace

March 14, 1933 - November 3, 2024

[adam-trademark]

Don't eat

yellow snow.

(November 8, 2020)

[dewitty1]

Quincy Jones, the multi-talented music titan whose vast legacy ranged from producing Michael Jackson’s historic “Thriller” album to writing prize-winning film and television scores and collaborating with Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles and hundreds of other recording artists, has died at 91.

Jones’ publicist, Arnold Robinson, says he died Sunday night at his home in the Bel Air section of Los Angeles, surrounded by his family.

“Tonight, with full but broken hearts, we must share the news of our father and brother Quincy Jones’ passing,” the family said in a statement. “And although this is an incredible loss for our family, we celebrate the great life that he lived and know there will never be another like him.”