#another to be attacked

[goryhorroor]

“1950s horror movies contrast radically with their 1940s predecessors. understandably – they were reflecting a whole new world. audiences wanted stories that connected directly to their lives, to the ever-expanding technology in their homes and workplaces. they also wanted horror movies that played to their fears – stoked by politicians – of the shadows that lay beyond their immediate, personal experience of the shiny american dream (applies to some of these movies).”

[yashley]

"It would really just be a shame, I think, to deprive our audience of just like, one more perfume commercial."

bonus:

[helloilikepurple]

DC X DP - DeAged

The Nasty Burger explosion took a lot from Danny.

Stopping Dan meant nothing when Danny lost everything. His friends, his parents, his sister, his teacher - all gone. Danny, desperate to not become Dan, fled. He would not let Vlad destroy the only thing he had left; himself. He didn't turn human again if he could avoid it. Let Danny Fenton die with his family.

He did what he could, trying to keep it all together. Avoid Vlad. Catch havoc-wreaking ghosts. Try to not have a panic attack every time he saw his reflection. FentonWorks became out-of-bounds. No one was sure how to turn off the portal or any of the house's defence mechanisms so it was taped up instead.

Danny kept the GIW away. They wanted his parents' research, even if they had to bend the law to get it. Danny would not let them have it. Never.

But the GIW was persistent and Danny weak from nearly two months of being Phantom and nothing else. He was so tired. Tired from grieving, from fighting, from wandering around, completely lost and alone.

The GIW got a lucky shot in. Danny went down. He woke up, still ghost, somewhere white. He'd trained himself not to have to turn back. He was grateful he did.

The GIW studied him. Danny did not have the energy to fight back. The will to survive. Curled up in his cell, bloody and becoming less human with every passing day, Clockwork finally intervened.

He could not let the future High King wither away into nothing.

With Nocturn's help, he whisked him away. His world was dying anyway. With no one to maintain the portal, it would soon overload and explode. The radiation would kill all life on Earth, leaving nothing behind, and taking with it the potential for new life. One world among infinite realities meant nothing. But Danny, as High King, is a singularity. A unique existence, only found in one reality. Clockwork, for the sake of everything that lives and dies, could not let Danny fade away.

Danny slept at the Far Frozen, dreaming of his family, his friends, and the stars he would one day rule over. He healed, wounds knitting together into scars and fractured core slowly, ever so slowly, repairing itself. A future Ancient, bound to protect all that is and will be, was bound to be very badly hurt from such a loss.

Clockwork only wished he could have done more, but to remove Danny too early would have spelt disaster worse than the deaths of billions. This boy would someday be someone he'd proudly call his grandson. Seeing that future alone was enough to make his own core ache for the young one.

The Infinite Realms wept for its child, still but a babe yet having suffered so much. It embraced its future King, blessing him with its loyalty and adoration. The ghosts of the realms, spread far and wide over distant realities, timelines and worlds, felt the loss too.

Danny healed, unaware of how loved and precious he was to so many - how far he was from alone. The dead's sudden quiet unsettled many. Enemies froze in the silent mourning, animosity forgotten. Raging wars came to abrupt ends. So many, unable to bear the ever-reaching, unidentifiable pain in the air killed themselves. Good, kind people cried alone.

Magic users, like Constantine and Zatanna, hid, waiting out the Infinite Realm's despair for its child. No one spoke of it, for fear of disrespecting the dimension between dimensions. But they hid, and they waited, and they couldn't help but worry for themselves and everything and everyone else.

Danny got a lot of visitors. Ancients, regular ghosts, crowded around his bed, gifting him blessings and support. Danny slept, he healed, and his world died, taking with it all he'd known. He wouldn't remember or know of any of this when he woke  - even the memories of his pleasant dreams will have left him. He'll awaken and think himself entirely alone.

But he'll know, someday.

Clockwork will make sure of it.

---

Danny doesn't know where he is or who he is.

He has a vague idea. His name. His life and his death. But so much is so distant, like impressions on sand, washed away by the ocean. He knows he should be bigger. He knows this isn't home. He knows there is no home anymore.

He knows there are people he misses, but he doesn't know who they are or where they've gone. He knows so little yet so much. White walls and orange hair, green (toxic, writhing green) and hazmat suits, white and black and orange and blue. Expensive, Packers-branded cologne, burning flesh, the scream of an alarm and laughter and fear and hope and love and pain and loss. Disjointed flashes, snippets of another life.

And this isn't familiar - this city and these people. These crowded, filthy streets aren't home, but there's no home anymore so of course they aren't. And maybe Danny should be afraid. He doesn't know where he is, or how he got here. There are people, so tall, walking around him not sparing him a glance. It's loud and smelly and so much to process all at once.

But Danny doesn't care because he's so tired, and he wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and sleep the day away. But he doesn't have a home, so obviously he doesn't have a bed either. He looks around for somewhere else to sleep, rubbing at his chest subconsciously as he does.

There, a building, on the other side of the road. The windows are tinted, but the doors open and Danny, through the crowds and passing traffic, catches a glimpse of what has to be a couch. Maybe the people that own the building will let him sleep on their couch for a little bit.

So he crosses the street, sticking close to the legs of some lady with skinny heels that go tap-tap-tap so the cars don't go because they can't see him. The lady turns to go a different way after but it's okay because Danny is in front of the building now.

He pushes the door open and slips inside. It's quieter inside, and warmer. Danny wasn't cold outside but in here there's a nice heat that makes him feel even sleepier. He looks around at the fancy chairs and potted plants and lights, and is happy to see there are couches. Long couches, with lots of pillows and space for him to spread out.

He walks up to the desk. He's too short to see over it, and it makes him kind of angry because he's sure he's supposed to be taller. But he figures maybe he remembers wrong because people don't just shrink. Except, he's a halfa so maybe ghosts do?

"Hello?"

There's a lady here too, behind the desk, but unlike the one he followed across the street she has short, curly hair. Danny wonders if she's wearing skinny heels too. Leaning his head back, he can see her look up, glance around, and then look back down.

Danny pouts. Did she not see him?

"Hello?"

He waves an arm this time, reaching as high as he can to catch her attention. She finally sees him, eyes widening in surprise. "Oh, sorry! Hello." She has a nice voice.

"Your voice is pretty."

She smiles, and Danny decides her smile is nice too. "Why thank you. You have a pretty voice too. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Can I please sleep on your couch? Just for a little bit."

"Of course you can. Would you like a blanket? I could fetch one for you from the staff room."

Danny shakes his head. "I'm okay. Thank you."

"Alright. But if you change your mind, do tell me."

"You're very nice."

"Thank you, but it's really no problem. Not much to do today anyway."

"You should sleep too then. Sleep is good."

She giggles. "That is a very good idea. I just might take your advice." Danny nods. He has lots of good ideas. "Okay. I'm gonna' go nap now. Bye-bye."

"Sleep well."

There are a few couches, and for a bit Danny's not sure which one to sleep on. He chooses the one with the most pillows. It's very comfy, and the pillows are nice too. He puts one under his head and hugs another, curling up around it. He falls asleep in seconds.

-

When a toddler with black and blue eyes asked to sleep on one of the couches on in the reception hall of Wayne enterprises, May had assumed he was one of Bruce's boys. He certainly fit the type Gotham's favourite playboy liked to adopt, and it wasn't unusual for his wards to show up out of the blue.

Once she found Tim Drake passed out on the floor under her desk. Apparently, he'd been hiding from Dick who was visiting from Blüdhaven and forgot to bring his coffee with him, consequently falling asleep while he waited for her to arrive so he could ask her to go pick some up for him. That had been an interesting Thursday morning. 

On another memorable occasion, Cass, Bruce's only official daughter, and her girlfriend Steph had shown up, said hi, went upstairs, then came back down after about an hour, giggling as they ran out with a wave goodbye. Not even ten minutes later, Bruce himself stumbled out of the elevator, absolutely covered in purple glitter. May remembers raising an eyebrow and asking if Bruce wanted her to have another suit brought in.

He'd ended up collapsing on one of the couches with an exhausted sigh, and said he'd have Alfred pick him up instead. He left a sparkly trail behind him when he walked, and the couch he sat on had to be replaced because, even after numerous cleaning attempts, no one could get the glitter out. He had glitter in his hair for months afterwards.

So, May hadn't bat an eye when the little boy came in. Well aware Bruce had several meetings scheduled that day, she sent him an email saying one of his kids was taking a nap in the reception hall and resolved to look out for the boy herself. Throughout the day, she made sure to check on him often, making sure no one picked him up ran (this was Gotham after all).

He slept soundly for most of her work day, barely shifting. She ended up putting a blanket on him herself during her lunch break and leaving him a water bottle and little snack for when he woke up. She also made sure security kept an eye on him whenever she left for whatever reason.

It was well into the afternoon when Bruce finally replied to her email and asked if his kid was still sleeping downstairs. She said yes, and not long after he arrived on the ground level. He walked up to her desk and asked if his kid had caused her any trouble. She smiled and assured him no.

Then Bruce asked where Tim was.

"Sorry? Tim isn't here today."

Bruce frowned, looking just as confused as she felt. "My apologies. You said one of my wards was asleep here. I assumed it was Tim."

"Oh! No, no, it's not Tim. Well, I don't actually know his name but the little guy has been here since this morning." She gestured to the toddler in question.

Bruce turned around, saw him, and frowned. "He's not one of mine."

"He's not?"

"No. Are you sure he's not an employee's child?" He kept his eyes on the boy, eyes narrowed in thought.

"Yes, I am. Only three employees brought in their children today, and all of them are ten or above. He can't be older than five." She frowned now too, turning to her computer to double check. "I'll send out a company-wide email to be sure. I should have done this sooner. I'm sorry, I was just so sure he was under your care."

"It's alright, May. I'm not upset. I'm just worried about him. When about in the morning did he get here?"

She glanced up, but Bruce was still looking at the sleeping boy. "A little after nine."

"And he's been sleeping all that time?"

"Yes, as far as I'm aware."

"Alright. Thank you for looking after him. I'll take it from here."

"Of course, sir. I'll reach out to you if anyone identifies him."

He nodded appreciatively and walked over to the boy. She watched, frustrated with herself. She's worked as one of Wayne Enterprise's receptionists for over four years. She should have known better than to just assume some random, black haired blue eyed child was Bruce's kid. She should have at least reached out to make sure that was the case.

She sighed as Bruce knelt down by the couch and gently shook the little boy awake, resting her head in the palm of her hand. This poor child. His poor parents. They must be worried sick.

She has to make this right.

---

[thatpunnyperson]

According to NBC here in the US, the missing titanic sub has been found. As debris. Off the bow of the Titanic wreckage.

And it looks like the sub suffered what we all suspected, and what was undoubtedly the more merciful of the two options: a catastrophic implosion from the pressure.

Also, more info has come to light about the fishing trawler with the hundreds of migrants that sank cataclysmically off the coast of Greece, indicating that the greek coast guard knew about the vessel AND how much trouble the vessel was in, and were towing it at a speed that made it capsize, at which point they unhooked the tow line and watched the trawler sink without helping the passengers to safety. Despite a bunch of other ships trying to help as well throughout the whole ordeal.

So a lot of people are dead, all because of regulations (and the lack thereof) regarding sea-faring vessels and rescue protocols. People shouldnt be allowed to make a business charging a ton of money for a ride on an uncertified, unsafe, un-seaworthy ship going deep into the ocean with no distress beacon or tether to the mothership. People also shouldnt be allowed to enact laws that criminalize the ferrying of refugees, which then force the refugees to hitch rides on fishing trawlers, and which also prevent people from helping those fishing trawlers full of refugees due to fear of legal consequences.

Hopefully BOTH of these events spark changes on an international scale in terms of what is legally allowed to be sailed, who is legally allowed to be the passengers, and what the rescue protocols are in the event of disaster for any seafaring vessel, illegal or not. It shouldnt be just the global 1% who get 24/7 search parties and remote-operated submersibles helping rescue them.

[artificial-ascension]

Being transmasc means you will hear people say shit to you with their whole chest that, if they said to a cis woman, would get them on a block list of raging misogynists instantly also you are also on that block list for bringing this up.

[ventresses]

Star Wars: Attack of the Clones (4/?)

Star Wars + Text Posts & Headlines

[laniidae-passerine]

don’t get how you can watch iwtv and be a sincere diehard lestat hater. like the world’s biggest lestat hater is louis and that man can’t even commit to it for more than five minutes before literally hallucinating lestat wearing a wedding ring and talking pretty to him. this show is about louis and every road leads back to lestat for that man

[ganondoodle]

Empress and her Bodyguard.

(OCs, grey haired lady Zaphira she/her, demon Shargon he/they)

(also some details up close)

and this guy bc i find him funny

[gojoforever69]

This was Megumi’s perspective when he first met Gojo. 😭😭

[violetscanfly]

Ah yes. Me. My partner. And their 500 silver five foot seven tall titan plushie.

[zealouswitchwerewolf]

Tim *on his 68th hour of no sleep trying to finish the cases he stole from the cave after being banished to titans tower because of red hood, fully believing he's all alone there*: ok but what if we blow up the tower, fake our deaths, and take a 3 week vacation? Way more effective than just sending me here and hope for the best with the unhinged murderer fixated on me.

YJ *worried about their team leader and annoyed at their mentors, actually considering*: sure, why not?

Bart: I'll go get the explosives.

Kon: but how will they know we died here?

Tim *fully invested now*: the cameras don't have audio, we have a bunch of our blood and we can drop a bag of our teeth plus some kryptonite to make it convincing.

Kon *shrugs*: close enough.

[hongtonie]

a list of palestinians who have reached out to me because tumblr seems to favor these types of posts (red= under 10% funded, orange= under 40% funded, pink= around halfway funded, blue= over 60% funded)

UPDATED NOV 17

44% @abedallhferwanagaza (and wife @olagaza) - vetted - gfm link €15,313 / €35,000

7% @abeerashraf91 - vetted (#79) - gfm link €3,351 / €50,000

2% @ahmedabuzuorfamily - vetted (#16) - gfm link €712 / €30,000

37% @ahmedziad - vetted (1, 2) - gfm link £11,024 / £30,000 (has only raised £5 since i last updated)

5% @alimeq92 - vetted (#54) - gfm link €3,451 / €70,000

95% @aseelo680 - vetted - gfm link $94,943 / $100,000 (so close!)

66% @asmaayyad (and sister sama) - vetted (#43) - gfm link €29,841 / €45,000

14% @farahmohanad2 - vetted (#42) - gfm link $4,778 / $35,000

81% @fidaa-family2 - vetted - gfm link $97,027 / $120,000

21% @hadiah1111 - vetted - gfm link €10,377 / €50,000

83% @ibrahimsworld - vetted (#25) - gfm link €16,549 / €20,000 (met and raised!)

26% @khalid-sisters - vetted - gfm link $6,455 / $25,000

7.4% @mariam-gaza - vetted - gfm link $1,487 / $20,000 gfm link missing

3% @maysaayahya85 - vetted - gfm link €1,187 / €35,000

22% @monagaza1 - vetted (#164) - gfm link $20,087 / $92,000 donations are disabled

19% @mones1998gaza - vetted (#64) - gfm link $3,720 / $20,000

42% @nisreensuhail (as well as her family members) - vetted (1, 2 [#75]) - gfm link €21,038 / €50,000

95% @noorabd-1992 - vetted - gfm link $42,650 / $45,000 (so close!!!) fundraiser not found

73% @omargaze2 - vetted - gfm link £14,622 / £20,000 goal

5% @samialkhalili - vetted (#21) - gfm link €1,535 / €30,000 (goal lowered by 20k)

22% @savemohammed - vetted (#57) - gfm link €4,311 / €20,000

41% @shamfarhat1 - vetted (#248) - gfm link $11,977 / $29,500

8% @shamraed - vetted (#8) - gfm link €2,910 / €35,000

1.7% @shery-89 - vetted - gfm link €871 / €50,000 gfm link missing

102% @wafaaresh6 - vetted - gfm link $86,892 / $85,000 (met and surpassed!)

[jeeaark]

All is ash and meat indeed.

Might be harder to turn magic bows into ash though. Might need to just hide those.

Companion Durge having 'I can fix them. I can make them worse better' thoughts after seeing Greygold not fully optimizing their half-orc savage attacker feat. Just so much 'embrace murder' approval and so much confusion why they intentionally avoid splitting skulls in two.

Not sure how Durge's approval system would work, but I like to think sometimes Embrace Dark Urge rears their lil bloodthirsty snoot and tries to entice Greygold to join 'team murderize'. Would be fun(?) not knowing if you were raising Resist Urge Approval or Embrace Urge Approval until he started giving you a hug or a bloody heart (sometimes from your own chest).

[puppyeared]

Alex and my farmer Cosmo (he/him)

[windybluebelles]

I don’t think, as a fandom, we have utilitiesed the concept of immortal Alfred along side the Fawcett time bubble.

Now, I know for a fact that it canon Alfred is not immortal and has intact died, I also just don’t give a shit

I’m also fairly sure that time bubble fawcett has never been canon, and at the very least isn’t anymore, I still don’t care.

Just picture, Itty Bitty Billy Batson (orphan whos entire support system from when he was younger is just entirely gone) hears a familiar voice coming through Batman’s personal comms, and just kinda thinks,

Holy Shit that’s Uncle Al

Now he’s obviously very confused, last time he heard anything about his Uncle Al was approximately in like 1954, and he was around the same age as his parents who I imagine couldn’t be any younger than like 30. So how tf is he not brain dead and being fed through a tube by now? (I’m sure there are some very functional 90 year olds but like… what are the chances?)

I imagine that Billy would eventually figure out that Alfred works for the Wayne family in Gotham (I also imagine that he now vaguely know Batman’s identity but he’s also like 12 so why would he care?) and finds a way to get there as soon as possible.

I’m picturing just like, Tim or someone opening the door to this tiny little boy whos holding a box full of pictures and letters and is politely asking if he can ‘Speak with uncle-err, Mr Pennyworth?’

[vurelly]

how am i meant to ha wahoo yippee through life in these conditions