#Wood&Stock

[pyxisbr-blog-blog]

A Função do Cartunista, da série "Entre sem bater".

A função do cartunista, @angeli_ , é despertar os incautos e ignorantes.

E, de quebra, promover a reflexão e debate.

#FunçãodoCartunista #Entresembater #Angeli

[flufflecat]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

So I was scrolling along and accidentally clicked on a tag of some post. But it opened with this as the banner and I thought it was perfect. 🧡

SUCK IS DICK SUNDAY

[s0fter-sin]

trans!soap taking his baby and running away from his rich abusive husband

(cw angst, financial abuse, single threat of child abuse, single mention of transphobia)

he's owned soap for years, since he was a teenager; paid for his medication and all his surgeries and tied them so deeply, soap’s lost hope of ever getting away. he gets even worse when soap falls pregnant. he was always controlling; blowing up at him if he spent too long out of the house or did something without telling him. but he becomes utterly possessive during the pregnancy

soap knows it has nothing to do with his safety or the baby's

he knows he sees his baby as an investment; another being he can control and hold over him

he gets worse and worse but there’s nothing soap can do. there's been nothing he can do for a long time. then a few months after the baby is born, soap doesn’t watch his tone closely enough and his husband threatens to drop his baby in punishment for it

soap doesn't think. he doesn't plan

he takes his baby and runs

he sneaks out of the servant's quarters of the sterile mansion he's been forced to live in for almost a decade and walks down the street without a backwards glance; his baby the only thing in his arms. he knows all of his husband's cars have trackers, all of them in his name since he never lets soap drive or go anywhere by himself, so he walks far enough to be out of view of the mansion's cameras and steals one. it doesn't have a car seat and all he can do is clutch his baby to his chest as he drives

he doesn't know where he's going beyond away

he doesn't know what he's going to do; he doesn't have any money, no supplies for his baby, he doesn't even have water for himself so he can reliably breastfeed him. he's terrified his husband will find them; he’s always felt omniscient, always everywhere and seeing everything he did. if he didn’t have eyes somewhere, he paid someone who did and they always dutifully reported back to him

soap just keeps his eyes forward. just keeps driving and driving, lost to the road and numb until the low gas light pops up on the dash and it all hits him at once

he turns into a gas station he can't pay for, in a car he stole, and parks behind it and his baby immediately starts getting fussy

he can't even call him by his name sometimes; too afraid to get attached, too afraid to lose him. as if he doesn’t love him more than life itself

even throughout his pregnancy, as happy as he was to finally have a baby, he didn't know if he could carry to term and that fear just let his husband dig his claws in even deeper; paying for extra scans he could never hope to pay for, favours on top of favours so he would aways owe him and isn’t he such a loving husband? taking soap in when his parents kicked him out for being trans, looking after him for all these years? you can’t even take care of yourself john, you’d still be a woman without me, john, what is this tantrum about john-

soap tugs his shirt up to let his baby feed, drops his head back and cries

he can't stop it; wails loud and uncontrolled, chest heaving with his sobs enough that it sways his baby, occasionally breaking his latch and he can't even do this right-

he can't save him

a light knock sounds on the window and soap flinches, curling over his baby to protect him from his huband's cruel hands

but it's not his husband outside the window

soap blinks tears from his eyes and looks at the large stranger standing beside the car. a neck gaiter covers his mouth and it should be off-putting… but something about him stops the feeling in its tracks. the stranger takes a half-step back and lifts a chilled and sealed water bottle, pressing it towards the window

soap quickly swipes his face clean and rolls down the window. "sorry 'bout that," he apologises with a choked laugh, the careful front he’s built over the years cracked and bleeding

the stranger gives a dismissive but somehow not diminishing shrug. "long day?" he asks

"could say that," he gives a shrug of his own and pats his baby's back as he makes a disgruntled noise, unconsciously swaying him

he politely keeps his gaze up on his face. "looks like you could use a break."

soap's breath hitches, anxiously darting his tongue out over his bottom lip. "could say that," he repeats uselessly and takes the water with a quiet “thanks,”; his throat dry and screaming for it after crying so hard

the stranger hums, watching him down the bottle and soap doesn’t notice his eyes drifting to the backseat and footwell of the passenger side. doesn’t notice the slight tension in his fists at what he sees. "how long you been runnin', lad?"

soap freezes, the water settling in his stomach like a stone. he swallows thickly and the bottle falls from his lips

"not long enough."

the stranger just nods, looking idly back down the highway

"you know, this place is connected to a garage,” he starts, nodding back to a building attached to the station without taking his eyes off the road. “lotta people drift through 'ere on road trips; too many to keep track.”

soap frowns slightly, shifting his hold on his baby

“funny thing is, plenty of 'em just abandon their car when they break down. like yours,” he adds and finally turns back to him with a pointed look. “got a whole junkyard of 'em. just rustin' away. be pretty easy to convince me to trade ya one."

soap’s mouth parts in a gasp as he realises just what the stranger’s saying. "how easy?" he whispers

he shrugs and even with his face hidden beneath the gaiter, he doesn’t feel afraid. "i'd say this car'd be a good deal. would blend right in with the rest of ‘em; no one’d ever notice it. what say i take it off your hands?"

soap's breath shudders out of him, his whole body going limp with relief. his baby's eyes fall shut with a satisfied hum and for the first time he can remember, he feels the gentle touch of hope

"i think we can work something out."

🧼💀

ghost owns the service station soap pulled into. he wanted something quiet and isolated after he retired and you can’t get much quieter than a backwoods servo surrounded by forest. he hasn’t had anyone pull in in days so he’s quick to notice soap’s car. he’s also quick to notice soap's subsequent breakdown in one of the cameras. the sight of him crying, desperately clutching a baby like they’re all he has left in the world, is so familiar he felt sick with it

he knows someone running when he sees it

if he didn't check on him, if this lad disappeared one day and the baby along with him, he'd never forgive himself. the lad doesn't even have a baby bag or car seat with him, and the personalised sticker on the back window of a lady and a dog is a dead giveaway that the car is stolen

but the lad is terrified. and when he startled him, he didn't turn. didn’t lift his arms to protect himself. no

he covered his baby

like he was afraid he'd be hurt

that's enough for ghost

🧼💀

i'd wanna set this in the 80's or 90's, just to make it even harder for soap to get away from his husband. he's a trans man with a newborn; he has no one to run to and no resources to help him. his husband's bought and paid for everything for him since he was 17; a few whirlwind weeks of unbelievable dates and extravagant gifts and he was living in his mansion, getting married the day after his 18th birthday. he thought it was love. thought he was being looked after and cared for the way he’s always wanted

he was in pain and alone and naive enough to believe the first person who came along and promised to make it better. nothing's in his name, not his insurance or his meds, he doesn’t have a bank account or savings; other than a birth certificate, nothing even ties him to his baby. his husband could take his world away from him with a snap of his fingers and he made sure soap always knew it

he never had a chance of getting away

but ghost is ex-military

he doesn’t know the lad’s story, doesn’t know the details of what he’s running from. he doesn’t need to know

he decided he was helping him the second he pulled into his service station

[pierppasolini]

Natalie Wood and James Dean photographed by Dennis Stock, on the set of Rebel Without a Cause

[delanore-roosevelt]

think my house is fully complete until new stuff is added🙂‍↕️!

[woobosco]

Afro Culture (My culture)

@woobosco

[omg-snakes]

So, do all diffused corn snakes have to have patternless sides or is it another gene that can have levels of expression? I'm buying a pewter corn hatchling soon but it has those patterns. And another completely unrelated question (didn't want to send 2 asks) but lets say one snake is het for charcoal and the other snake its being paired to is not het for charcoal. Does that het pass on to the hatchling at all?

Hello friend!

Diffused corn snakes should have some level of diffusion of pattern on their sides (that's where the name comes from!) that gets more pronounced closer to the tummy, but there are definitely levels of quality at play. A snake with no or very light side patterning is obviously going to be a higher quality Diffused than one with more normal-type side patterning. It's become pretty common to see these popping up in the hobby, though, as folks just mash snakes together without regard for morph integrity. :(

Personally, I know "pet only" is a bit of a trigger phrase in the reptile hobby, but if a Diffused has normal, undiffused patterning on their sides or any checkering on their tummy, I certainly wouldn't consider them worth breeding. They can still be a gorgeous lovely pet! There's absolutely nothing wrong with keeping snakes as pets and just, like, not breeding them! You don't need to breed them to love them! You don't need to breed them please stop breeding them I beg of you please the market is so saturated please do not

Anyway,

If a het [insert favorite gene here] is paired to a non-het, the resulting offspring will be 50% likely to carry the het gene. We call these "50% het [gene name]" until proven het or non-het.

[notbecauseofvictories]

I’ve now seen the “would you eat lab-grown meat” poll twice, which means it is time to air one of my least charitable opinions---namely, I think imitation meat is an abomination. I could pretend this is for noble reasons (and I want to believe I have a couple in the mix) but truthfully its existence revolts and annoys me. It feels like a kind of hypocrisy; I mean, I’m sorry if you crave chicken wings for whatever reason? but you’re the one who gave up an omnivorous diet and refused to get creative with the foods left to you. Eat your cauliflower in buffalo sauce and shut up.

[jitterbugjive]

Kumoricon 2023 photos part 10

[dognonsense]

Woof woods puppy girl covered in the blood of a golfer she murdered with their own golf club

less blood. in case u prefer lol.

[crisp-autumnal-air]

By Egor Litvinov

[dailyzanymerch]

Day 46

Found here.

[kayawolfhorse]

This update has been a massive win for me

[theneverendingshow]

Serena Wood via Metart

[woobosco]

Afro Culture (My culture)

@woobosco