#c'mon joe!

[evilmark999]

That the president is "authorized" to operate above the law is fact but untested. With the Xtreme Court off to places far-flung and mysterious, it's the perfect time to "test it out" - and, preferably starting with the red homunculus asshats of the Roberts Court itself! No, I do NOT mean Seal Team Six! That's another problem, entirely...

Biden can, for example, "start small" by issuing a presidential mandate to Congress to put its full weight to bear into the gathering of information on the usual Roberts Court suspects, with the primary purpose to get impeachment proceedings under way and fast-tracked, and to do it opaquely since that matches the seriousness in which the Court operates, to find the corruption within it before elections take place...

Now, as for directly "ordering" presidential subordinates to carry out "testing" missions:

Subordinates are NOT above the law! Only the president has any sort of immunity. Accountability for the actions of that Seal Team Six ordered to assassinate a hypothetical political rival is 100% theirs. The absolute low effort shittiness of the Roberts Six is off the charts!

When a president wants to break the law, there's a line in the sand that could get someone directly involved charged and sentenced, with absolutely no protections. Mission: Impossible! Think on that for a bit...

So, c'mon, Joe! There ARE a lot of FAR less extreme actions that you can navigate, here! A REAL president with brand new authority ABSOLUTELY should put it through some tests! THAT's the Chicago Way!

Read this, then read it again

[zipadeea]

Patiently waiting for Kit Connor's forthcoming lesbian witch project

[very-uncorrect]

I watch a lot of Cinema Therapy and I was like oo that Lisa's Popcorn that sponsors them looks great I might buy some but apparently it costs £50 shipping to the UK and that's the biggest 180° I've done yet

[music-for-them-asses]

I'm watching Willy Wonka for the first time in a while (what having a child will do to a mf) and Jesus Christ, grandpa Joe IS a villain. At the beginning, he says something about getting out of bed to help Charlie, and his daughter is like, you've been saying that for years! And then he's magically well enough to go on a whole factory tour after Charlie wins?? AND let's Charlie pay for his tobacco??? HELL nah

[vilevampire]

someday in this fandom I'll get dragged into drama over controversial ship opinions and when that happens I want you all to remember me fondly because frankly I will drop dead on the spot

[joe-zone]

Twitter & TikTok are EVIL 🙄😂

[unized-3]

"the new fob cover is so low-effort did you see it they need to sto-" *gunshots*

[two4tea1485]

I just finished reading The Pale Blue Eye and came on here hoping to find a decent book-vs-film post to help me decide whether to bother with the film... 

But judging by all the posts I’ve been able to find so far, no one even knows the book exists???? 

[goldbergpleasure]

why is the header not loading 🤨 lemme spread my infinite love for this masterpiece of a fanfiction who changed the trajectory of my life

[evilmark999]

They don't make 'em like they used to...

VERY important note: Just because they're older doesn't mean that they're better

Walt Disney often filmed actors as models for his animated features. What’s surprising about this scene is that the audio from this footage for Alice in Wonderland is the actual audio used in the film. When Ed Wynn was brought back in to the recording studio to do his lines, the reading was not as good as the reference tests, so the test audio was used for the film.

[pandabara]

My reaction after Mojang gets rid of the Mob Vote: C'mon man!

#minecraft #shorts #politics #edit #ai #minecraftanimation

[goblette]

just paint the damn centipede

[mrslonelyhearts]

Real talk, people should be shipping Vito and Joe more. And I don't wanna hear about how their platonic relationship is beautiful or whatever - Joe and Vito have absolute devotion to one another.

[evilmark999]

I am not an expert on what you're about to read, so PLEASE check me! Otherwise, this is my understanding of some of the factors for a push to keep Biden as the Democratic candidate for president...

The Democratic National Convention and Party rules are essentially stacked against anyone other than the primary winner getting the actual nomination..

Changing nominees at this point in the process is more than just a bit convoluted, specifically because such a convergence of factors for change has never been considered or addressed, before...

More to the point, should the worst case scenario happen involving the death of a formal nominee, then delegates would have to "conspire" to just NOT vote at all, reverting the process into a wide open "old-timey" convention...

Are you still reading this?

This I DO know: The vice presidential candidate is a separate nomination entirely. Kamala does not automatically ascend to be the candidate for president...

MAKING MATTERS WORSE, the official selection of the Democratic presidential ticket takes place in private - via a representative electronic meeting - ahead of the actual convention. Essentially, the actual convention is just ceremony, not function...

RIGHT NOW, there are no rules in place for the inconvenient chaos that may be growing, nor even for the worst case scenario. The "powers that be" within the Democratic Party would have to either [1] handle selecting the candidates amongst themselves in private, or [2] urgently adopt additional rules and procedures to restore authority to the traditional convention...

Just sayin'...

if i see one more article, post, or news anchor talking about how joe biden is old, i'm putting my fist through a window. i feel like i've gone through the fucking looking glass.

this is project 2025, trump's plan for what he'll do if elected. whatever you think is in there, it's worse. watch a breakdown of the highlights here. this man wants to unravel the fabric of our democracy for good - this all aside from his vitriolic hatred of poc, his determination to start ww3, and the fact that he can't string a sentence together without telling outrageous and easily verifiable lies. his administration will start their crusade to exterminate trans people on day one, and they won't stop there.

do not talk to me about how joe biden is old, as if that could ever matter to me more than my life or the lives of my friends and family. my little sister is 14, she's trans, and i don't know what to tell her when we talk about politics, because one of these people wants her dead and the other one is old and some of you are still acting like those problems are equals.

i can't fucking stand this. i'm not hearing it this time, we are not repeating 2016. refusing to vote is not an act of protest, it is an act of complacency, and our most vulnerable will suffer for your negligence. vote like your life depends on it, because for some of us, it really fucking does.

[allurilove]

Yandere Stalker x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: Stalking, blood, non con—he goes down on you without you knowing, fem reader, perverted and lewd behavior, again he’s weird and so delusional, mentions of violence against women.

*Happy Pride month!!! 🫶🏻This fic is influenced by You—specifically season one. I’m trying to give him a joe goldberg vibe. This is also part two, and check out part one and part three! Your stalker doesn't have a name, and this fic is in his point of view. This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: Your stalker decides to celebrate one year of staking you by giving you a little visit.

What’s more dangerous than a lustful and starved man?

You wanna know what’s great about New York? That every apartment seemed to have a fire escape. Yours is tastefully decorated with a rug, and a small chair that has a plaid blanket draped over it. What's also so great about it is that it gives me access to you. You live on the fifth floor of this red-bricked building. It’s somewhat old but has a nice rustic charm. You seem to have an eye for knackered and worn-down things, as I’ve seen you pick up a used vanity and refurbished it. Inside, there’s a lobby with a doorman that is barely awake half of the time, he picks up a huge breakfast and clocks out after having a food coma. He's old, flabby, and not nearly ready to protect you like I am.

I seriously doubt he could jump over his desk and grab the throat of any danger coming your way. It's quite concerning, you know? You often sleep with your window open, and with the current rise in crime...you could get stabbed, kidnapped, bound and tied, and thrown into the back of a truck in a matter of seconds. Trust me, I have seen it happen before.

Don't get me wrong, it's understandable. It’s a hot spring day, and even if the moon gave the city a bit of a break from the sweltering heat, the lingering humidity continued to have a tight grip on everyone. Every crow resides in the trees for shade, every stray cat hiding in the alleyways, and even the rats seem content with steaming away in the sewers. The pavements are hot, the wind is hot, and you can see and smell the stench of people's BO in the air. I mean, c'mon... have they heard of deodorant?

June is just a month that comes before my favorite season.

Summer, and in other words: “An excuse to wear more revealing clothing.” There’s something amazing and titillating seeing you in tiny, tight tank tops, walking around in flip flops with freshly painted nails, and your hair up so I can see a bit of your neck.

And today marks one year since I first saw you. I know how you drink tea since coffee makes your head hurt, how you dance around your apartment after having a good day, and how you always leave your apartment at 12 p.m. for lunch.

I memorized the exact time you close your curtains for bed, just before I catch that perfect glimpse of you in your robe after a hot and steamy shower. I want to be your bath mat so badly. Step on my ribcage for all I care, and let droplets of water from your body fall onto my face. Let me see up your towel and gaze into what I consider to be the gates of heaven itself. Let me lift my head up so I can suck the remaining bathwater on you. Let me get all of my questions and prayers answered, and let me see all of you.

I have reached the top of the steps, my hand gripping onto the window to push it up higher, and I duck down to crawl into your bedroom. The floors seem to creak with every step I take, yet you haven't woken up. A heavy sleeper, are we?

My eyes adjust to the lack of lights. My pupils expand as I drink in your nude form. You look so serene with your soft snoring, your arms splattered, and my gaze traveled over the peaks of your tits rising and falling with your breathing. Your blanket was just thrown to the side, clearly disregarded with a bit of anger, and I could see the sheen of sweat on your forehead.

Your legs were already sprawled wide open-- a reward for my tremendous bravery. I lick my lips. I notice a white string sticking out from your underwear, and I reach out to gently tug on it. It looks stuck, and I wrap the string around my finger and give it an extra hard pull.

What could that be? I know you’re on your period, and I still have your pad that I grabbed from the trashcan earlier. I sort of understand what a period is, and all I really know is that the sight of your blood causes my head to spin. I pushed your panties to the side, and my curiosity piqued as I slowly removed the feminine product out of you.

I inspect the hygiene product I haven't really seen before. It looks different from a pad, and in my opinion it looks like a sperm— well the shape anyways. I put the tampon in my mouth, gently suckling it as if I were an infant. You taste salty, copper-like, and your plasma is warm. It's almost soothing. I then let the tampon fall out of my mouth. I tug on your underwear, pull it down from your legs, and stuff it into my pocket.

I rub my hands on your thighs, and I can feel the slight stubble on your legs. My fingers graze over your sex, and it follows the outline of your pussy. I put your legs on my shoulders, my head then leaning down so my tongue can lick stripes on your slit. The tip of my tongue touches the wet curls of your hair, and a frisson of pleasure runs down my spine. Your cunt is an eesome sight, the hair dampened by my saliva, and it covered your core like it was protecting the most precious jewel. And in a sense it was. I become more brazen, a single finger pushing inside you, and my jaw dropped at the sight of you sucking my finger in. You welcomed it so nicely, and there was a nice pressure of tightness.

I curl the single digit, intently staring at your face for any reactions towards my fingering. I use my thumb to circle your clit. I have read that some women can't come based on penetration alone. Hopefully, my tongue and fingers can help bring you to the brink of an orgasm.

I also hope that you never wake up. How else am I supposed to memorize your body? Would you even think that I am worthy of you? Or would you run away just by seeing my face alone? Would you think I'm crazy, or would you be flattered by the way I devour your cunt like it's my last meal? I hold your hips down firmly onto the bed, you're slowly squirming around and starting to gain consciousness.

It's like I'm drowning in a never-ending pool of crimson, and no matter how many times I swipe my tongue, it just oozes out of you so effortlessly. Your aroma is intoxicating, and it's like your body lured me--the prey-- into your little trap of ...

"Where are you going...?" I instinctively mutter as I miss the presence of your warmth against my mouth. You seem to crawl away, your limbs trying to save you from the repeated administrations of teasing.

My eyes shoot open as I realize that you're screaming. I immediately reel back, my ass landing onto the hard floor and I wince. "Shit-- I'm sorry!"

I scramble onto my feet and I try to duck every pillow you throw at me. I trip on my way out, and the wind gets knocked the fuck out of me as my bottom half got stuck in your window.

"This is literally my worst nightmare...!" I grunt as I try to wiggle my hips. I feel pain coming from my crotch, it's compressed against the window sill, and of course my dick had to be as hard as a rock.

You continue to hit whatever you see-- which means my ass. I yelp as you put your hands on my bottom, and you muster as much strength as you can to get me out of your house.

Why is this oddly arousing?

With one final shove I landed onto my face.

There's nothing dignifying about walking down the street with a clear boner and a bloody nose. I just look like a pervert that got punched after leering at someone. Wait.

No, that's not what I was doing. I'm not a pervert. I just have wandering eyes that are glued to whatever you're doing. I just happened to notice how your chest bounced around when you were running late and had to run out of the house. I happened to carry a tiny vial to collect any fluid and essences that dripped out of you after our encounter. My hand reached into my pocket, and I sighed in relief as I am comforted by the soft material of your panties and of the long plastic tube. I feel a sense of relief knowing that they didn't fall out as you kicked me out.

Am I crazy? No. Am I the only man you'll ever meet that has done this to you? Probably. I am one of a kind, after all.

Allure: Someone slap some sense into him.

[v6quewrlds]

i saw you’re accepting dad/husband joe content eek!! could you write abt joe forgetting about his baby girl’s birthday because he’d been working all day? i love your writing smm 💗💗

you stood in the bustling kitchen, your eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. the aroma of baking cookies filled the air, a sweet pattern of sugar and spice that seemed to mock the chaos that surrounded you. you wiped your hands on your apron, the fabric smudged with a rainbow of icing colors, and took a deep breath. the clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, each one a silent reminder of tomorrow's birthday party you were in the throes of preparing for.

amara and noa giggled in the living room, their laughter a delightful contrast to the pounding in your head. you glanced over your shoulder to find them playing with a pile of balloons, their cheeks rosy and eyes shining with mischief. "girls, dinner will be ready soon," you called out, hoping the promise of food would keep the chaos at bay for just a bit longer.

the door swung open, and joe's towering frame filled the doorway. the cool evening air brushed past him, carrying the faint scent of the falling autumn leaves. he looked exhausted, the shadows under his blue eyes betraying the toll the season was taking on him. you felt a pang of guilt for the mess you hadn't yet managed to hide, but it was quickly swallowed by your own fatigue. "welcome home, baby," you said with a forced smile. "how was your day?"

joe sighed, his eyes sweeping over the kitchen. "long," he replied, his voice gravelly. he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a chair. "but i'm home now." he walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, planting a kiss on your forehead. "what do you need me to do?"

you leaned into him for a moment, your body language screaming for relief. "could you take the girls for their baths?" you asked, your voice a mix of hope and weariness. "they've been driving me up the wall."

joe's expression softened, and he nodded. "of course, i've got it," he said, releasing you from his embrace. he scooped up noa, her chubby cheeks squealing with glee, and held out his other hand to amara. "c'mon, pumpkin, let's give your mama a break. it's bath time."

the girls trailed behind joe as he headed towards the bathroom, the sound of their laughter echoing down the hallway. you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your husband, so at ease with your daughters despite the stress of his career. you took a moment to appreciate the quiet that had descended upon the kitchen, the only noise the gentle hiss of the oven.

in the bathroom, joe filled the tub with steaming water and bubbles. he tried to ignore the twinge of sadness in his heart knowing that he had missed most of amara's special day. he looked down at his watch, the glint of the gold band catching the light. "okay, missy," he said, turning to amara. "let's get you cleaned up. tomorrow's the big party, and we want you looking your best for all your friends, don't we?"

amara nodded solemnly, her curly pigtails bobbing with the movement. she stepped into the tub, her tiny hands gripping the side tightly. noa watched from her bouncer, her attention occupied by toys adorning the toy bar. as joe helped amara settle in, she looked up at him, her doe eyes filled with a sudden sadness.

"what's wrong, sweetheart?" joe asked, noticing the shift in amara's mood. he knelt beside the tub, his long legs folding beneath him with a quiet grace.

amara's voice was barely a whisper. "you forgot to tell me happy birthday, daddy."

joe felt his heart drop. he had been so consumed with his own responsibilities, he hadn't even realized he had missed the moment. "amara," he said, his voice filled with regret. "i'm so sorry, baby girl. i didn't forget. it's just been a long day for me. happy birthday!" he leaned in and kissed her forehead, her skin soft and warm against his lips.

the sadness in amara's eyes didn't dissipate. "but you didn't tell me when i woke up," she said, her voice small.

joe sighed. "you're right, i didn't. and i should have. i'm so sorry, amara," he said sincerely. he took a deep breath, trying to push away the guilt that washed over him. "but you know what, i'm going to make it up to you. mommy and i are going to throw you the best party ever tomorrow. how does that sound?"

amara's eyes lit up a bit. "really?"

"really," joe nodded. "now, let's get you clean so you're all ready for your big day tomorrow, okay?" he grabbed the bubble bath bottle and squirted a generous amount into the water, watching as the bubbles grew and grew, threatening to spill over the side of the tub. amara's sadness lifted, replaced by the excitement of the promise.