#leave children alone??

[trashmagic-333]

me to the freaky gross pedophile men on this app and irl

[alonsoings]

“kimi antonelli could be racing in f1 as soon as spain!”

kimi antonelli is like 12 and needs to go to bed can these f1 teams please be normal for two seconds

[favroitecrime]

Palestinian freedom fighters breaking out of Gaza and reclaiming their occupied territories. They’ve taken over israeli tanks and have chased out the settlers that were on that land. They’ve launched rockets everywhere and the iron dome has failed to intercept. This is about to mark a momentous event in history.

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.

[deluxeyellowflower]

If you're USamerican and feel very strongly about how people vote in this upcoming election, if you feel hopeless about how those around you aren't voting, here's some suggestions.

Sign up to be a poll worker or election worker in your county. You might need to call or email the local election office to find out how to do this.

Get very familiar with your local voting process and its bureaucracy. Know the important deadlines and remind people of them. (Being a poll worker helps a lot with this.)

Ask your friends and family if they're voting. Have progressive voting guides on hand if they don't know who or what to vote for. Offer to drive people or go with them to vote. Fill out your mail-in ballots together.

Organize and join get out the vote campaigns. Canvass. Table. Flyer. Call. Text.

Don't shame people for ambivalence, disinterest, or hostility to voting. Be curious. Provide practical advice and tangible support.

[hi-intrepid-heroes]

anyway im off to kill porter and jace. and then to get the ratgrinders into therapy of both the talking and crystal-removing kind. whos with me

[veinsfullofstars]

💥 Of mice and mischief! 💥

(ID: More Kirby series fanart of Shadow Kirby interacting with Squeakers, with a guest cameo by Dark Meta Knight. Top left - SK clad in the Bomb hat and his Kirby Fighters black-and-purple coloration, dashing by alongside a green Squeaker, both of them carrying lit bombs and laughing with eager mischief. Top right - SK being hurriedly carried off by a group of excited Squeakers, his eyes wide in surprise and little arms thrown back from the speed. Bottom - DMK standing stiffly as a gaggle of curious Squeakers huddles around and even climbs onto him, his fists clenched and his wings slightly curled, his mask tilted down and and hiding his eyes in the shadow of the visor, red lines of irritation zigzagging off of him. To our left, a word bubble sporting Daroach’s top hat reads, “Aww, they like ya! Ain’t that precious? Quick, Spinni, get the camera!” END ID.)

Part 1 | Part 2 (you’re here!) | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Compilation

Sketch started btw 12/23 - 05/24, render started 05/21/24, finished 05/23/24.

[socialbunny]

 Skip has always found a way to work through his problems and turn them around with relative ease, but the sudden death of his wife, Brandi, has brought his mostly carefreeness towards his children  to a stand-still. With two freshly traumatized children and a newborn under his belt, can Skip juggle turning his shitty ass life around for his family, or will he crumble under the weight of his past mistakes?

Darleen hasn’t been the same since her husband, Darren, died, though she’d be quick to argue with you if you said anything of the sort. She’s FINE! She misses her husband, undoubtedly, but she’s not going to let that very, very, very tiny thing wreck her whole life, and she’s not going to let people give her grief about ANYTHING. Sure, she got fired from her job a few months back and hasn’t made any strides to find a new one, and she’s losing touch with her son as she goes and squanders all her responsibilities by partying and drinking on par with younger years, aaaaaaaaaaaaand the almost obsessive idealistic crush she’s developed on her neighbor is clouding the second half of her judgment, but she’s bounced back from worse and knows everything’s going to come up Darleen :) …………. hopefully

[spideyhexx]

coryo being so possessive because all of his things were destroyed by the war one way or another (bombs, burning things for warmth, selling for money for food, etc) and so when something (someone) is finally his he latches on tight

literally did this with Lucy Gray to an extent but

latches on tight to the point if he didn’t know where you were, he’s borderline on a anxiety attack.

thinking post pk coryo…where he’s very much keeping a lot of his inner emotions hidden under an exterior.

But once he has a partner (even if you’re in it through an arranged marriage), he unintentionally latches onto you, he needs to know you’re still there with him, where you are, and he’d pay so much attention to your mannerisms and tone of voice around him. The moment he thinks you might be angry, he’s trying to make things better, even if you didn’t tell him.

This also applies to him being overly protective, around some of his most trusted people too. And like you said something, that also means he’s latching on to all of the wealth, all of the praise he’s getting on top of having you.

[hylialeia]

you don't get it. she loved him once. she didn't have a maester, she had a brother. he sold their mother's crown to keep them fed. he said Dany, please. she loved him, once.

[j2h5b5]

There was only one thing that could have dragged Steve out of bed at two in the morning when he was nursing a booze-induced headache and an Eddie Munson-induced heartache.

“We need you,” she said.

He didn’t even bother putting on a jacket.

***

Dustin was sloppy, red-eyed and so unsteady that when Steve thunked a strong hand down on his shoulder, he almost lost his balance turning away from the group of asshats he’d taken up with to see who had grabbed him. Some of the drink in his hand sloshed over the sides of the cup and dribbled down the front of his shirt and onto the already filthy kitchen floor.

“Hey, what the—” he began, and then he dragged his gaze up to land on Steve.

There was a time, not so very long ago, when those same eyes would’ve lit up at the sight of his babysitter slash idol slash best friend. He would wrap him in a hug if it had been a day or two since he’d seen him, or sling a companionable arm around him, or punch him good-naturedly in the arm in hopes of initiating a play scuffle, which inevitably ended with him in a headlock getting his mop of curls aggressively tousled because he was just never going to have any kind of athletic edge on Steve.

But now.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” the younger boy asked in a tone so sharp and cold and so very NOT-Dustin that it made Steve’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

“Hey, man,” Steve said, aiming for casual if only to keep Dustin from embarrassing himself in front of his new asshat friends. “Can I talk to you? Step outside with me for a sec, okay?”

“Um, no,” Dustin bit out. “This’s my party, i'ss my house. It would be rude to leave my guests.”

“Yeah, since you brought that up … who are these people?” Steve swept his gaze over the Henderson kitchen, which was almost unrecognizable with all of the clutter, displaced furniture, and wasted teenagers. “And Dustin … where’s your mom?”

“Not here.”

“Well yeah, I kind of gathered that. Listen, Dust…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Are the others here?”

“Oh, you mean the traitors who called and ratted me out to YOU? Who the fuck cares?” His voice lowered to what he seemed to think was a conspiratorial level but was really just an extremely loud stage whisper. “Maybe they tripped and fell and landed their buzzkill asses back in the Upside Down.”

“Okay, that’s it.”

Before Dustin could protest, the cup was plucked from his hand and tossed expertly across the room, over the heads of several unwary drunken youths and into the crusty-dish-crowded sink and he was being towed along behind Steve through the kitchen, the living room, out the front door.

“What the fuck, Harrington? Let go of me! Let go!” Dustin struggled against the vise grip on his bicep but only succeeded in ensuring he’d probably have finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow.

Steve paid him no mind until he had deposited the boy into the passenger seat of his car, slammed the door, and locked it. Then he walked around to the driver’s side, unlocked it only long enough to get in, relocked it, and turned to Dustin.

“First of all,” he began loudly, drowning out Dustin’s sputtering attempts to find the words he wanted to hurl at Steve in his outrage at being manhandled out of his own party. “First of all. Joking about the Upside Down in a room full of strangers? NOT OKAY.”

“They don’t even know what—”

“Not. Fucking. Okay. SECOND, if you ever imply again that one of ours should BE in the Upside Down, you will find yourself with my foot so far up your ass you’ll choke on my shoe, and if you think I’m joking about that, Dustin, try me.”

This time there was only an eye-roll from Dustin, because he kind of didn’t want to try Steve on that point and because he kind of felt bad about saying it.

“Third, your friends are not traitors. They care about you and they’re worried about you; they called me for help because you’re treating them like shit and shut down every attempt they make to help you. Listen, I know I’m not your favorite person right now, Dustin, but you have to let someone help you. You’re not okay, buddy. This isn’t you. And all this shit you’re doing, the drinking and the partying and the pretending not to give a damn? It isn’t going to fix anything. It … it won’t bring him back.”

“Shut up!” Dustin shouted, flinching so hard at the words that he smacked the back of his head against the side window. Steve winced at the sound of skull meeting glass and resisted the urge to reach out and check for blood, or a bump. Dustin seemed not to have noticed that he’d nearly brained himself, infusing his next words with all the venom he could muster. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Steve. Even if you were right, it’s none of your business what I do! I am none of your business.”

“Don’t say shit like that, Dustin. Of course you’re my business.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! What are you saying?”

Dustin barked out a humorless laugh. “As much as I’d like to sit here with you and have a heart to heart right now, I have to get back to my guests.”

“No,” Steve snapped, reaching over Dustin to slap down the peg lock when the teen yanked it up. “We’re not done here. Now I can go inside and clear out your house and we can talk there, or you can drop the bullshit and talk to me right now.”

“You’re not shutting down my party.”

“Then we talk here.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Right, sure you don’t. Maybe I can give you some words, then. How about this, Dustin? How about: ‘Hey, Steve, you useless idiot loser, you promised to keep us safe and then you fucked it all up like you always do. The plan didn’t work and Max got hurt and Eddie fucking died, and you couldn’t stop it. I hate you for that, for lying and making us feel safe and telling us it was going to be okay. I can’t even look at you anymore and I hate my friends because they don’t hate you for some reason, but we know, don’t we? We know whose fault it is that we came back a man short. It’s yours, Steve. Yours.’” Steve’s voice was cracked and painful, like he’d been eating gravel and chasing it with cheap whisky and cigarettes. It hurt, that voice. “How’s that, Dust?” he finished, staring unflinching into Dustin’s shocked eyes. “Am I in the ballpark?”

Before Steve could react, Dustin unlocked his door and flung himself out of the car. He was drunk and it was dark, though, and he only made it a few yards before tripping and landing hard on the grass. Steve was on him almost instantly, hauling him up by the arms and scanning him for injuries.

He didn’t see the punch coming, wouldn’t have believed Dustin Henderson capable of such an effective hit, right in the mouth, knocking him back a couple of feet. “Jesus, Dustin!” he shouted, touching his lip and staring dumbfounded when his fingers came away wet with blood. “What the fuck, man?”

“Hit me back.”

“What? No! Dustin, what’s—”

“HIT ME BACK, STEVE! You have to!” Dustin’s voice cracked, the sudden violent burst of emotion threatening to unleash something big and scary and unforgivable. A tidal wave that had a name.

Steve grappled wildly with the boy, trying to grab his flailing arms so he could pin him, but Dustin was surprisingly swift in his current state, and he launched another punch, this one landing heavy in Steve’s gut and socking the breath right out of him.

“HIT ME, STEVE! I KNOW YOU WANT TO, JUST DO IT!”

Fueled by a burst of frustration and a sharper burst of fear (what is this?), Steve recovered enough to trap Dustin’s arms against his body, using his own weight to twist the boy around until he was trapped with his back against Steve, the hold immobilizing him so all he could do was squirm and shout out his fury. “LET ME GO FUCK YOU STEVE WHY WON’T YOU JUST FIGHT BACK YOU ASSHOLE?!”

“Dustin, stop. Stop it. Breathe, Dustin. Take a breath. No, hey, stop. You’re not going anywhere until you calm down for me. Breathe. Shhh, buddy. Breathe,” Steve’s hold was unbudging, his tone stern but soothing. Dustin’s violent struggles gradually slowed, and it took a couple of minutes for Steve to realize that the boy was shaking with silent sobs. And then the sobs became words, almost indecipherable in the wrecked, wretched voice that was rough and strained from screaming.

Every sentence Steve parsed from the stream of horrible self-accusations added another crack to his heart, which couldn’t have been more than a mess of spiderwebbing at this point.

It’s my fault.

He’s dead because of me.

I couldn’t save him.

You loved him, I know you did.

Why don’t you hate me?

Why don’t you hate me?

Why don’t you hate me?

Finally, finally, the words stopped and Dustin sagged, exhausted, in Steve’s arms. Only then did Steve ease up on his hold, but only long enough to turn the boy around and hug him properly. He bent down to bury his face in the unruly curls, his own tears falling unchecked and inconsequential.

“Dustin,” he whispered into the mop of hair. “Oh, Dustin, never.”

And when he realized he didn’t have the right words, he just stopped. He just picked Dustin up and carried him to his car, buckled him into the passenger seat, and told him he would be right back. He had a party to break up, some kids to chase away, and a boy—his boy—to mend.

“You loved him, I know you did.”

With a soul-cleansing breath that sounded more like a sob, Steve made his way back up to the Hendersons’ house.

[paintbrushnebula]

She will always be Gwenough to me

[lem0nademouth]

idk who needs to hear this but diabetics can have sugar. they can have as much sugar as they want as long as they take the appropriate amount of insulin. the only reason diabetics are ever told to lower their sugar intake is to reduce the amount of insulin they use. and almost every sugar free alternative sweetener is either a literal carcinogen or insanely expensive. not to mention the fact that sugar is naturally occurring in every. single. thing. you. eat.

[simply-ellas-stuff]

Someone commented on one of my posts that Alicent not comforting aegon was because she had him at 15.

Strained relationship, yes. Unable to connect and bond with him, yes. Awkward as fuck around him, yes.

However.

It is basic human empathy and sympathy to comfort someone crying hysterically in their bedroom after the death of their child. You hug them, you apologize, you put a hand on their shoulder.

It doesn't matter that it was Aegon. Or Helaena for that matter. A father's son was just murdered. And Alicent leaves him alone to sob hysterically. A mother just had to choose between her son and daughter and *saw* and *listened* to her sons head be cut off. And Alicent tries to talk to her about being caught having sex with Cole.

Regardless of circumstances. Someone as pious and emotional as Alicent should have been able to comfort both Aegon and Helaena in that moment.

And, to apologize to Helaena for her being forced to join in parading her dead son outside surrounded by strangers that clearly made Helaena wildly uncomfortable.

Her concern regarding getting caught with criston when speaking to Helaena, who looks like she hasn't slept in days after having to choose which child would die, and her ability to just walk away from aegon, who is sobbing hysterically, shows there is something else going on with Alicent.

Either her own catholic guilt regarding Jaehaerys not having a guard because she was having sex with with the guard, bad writing, or Alicent just completely disassociating her children until they are nothing more than pawns as a way to Cope. She does not see them as people. She does not see them as people to comfort.

Dyana, a stranger raped by Aegon, saw more comfort from Alicent than Aegon or Helaena did this episode. Aemond, when he lost an eye, saw more comfort from Alicent than Aegon or Helaena did this episode.

Regardless of reasons, I think we can all agree that it was cruel of her to walk away from Aegon while he's sobbing into his hands and it was wildly inappropriate to bring up what Helaena saw while Helaena is actively grieving her son in his bedroom and holding his funeral shroud.

[mylifeingotham]

Bruce and Alfred relaxing in the living room

Bruce, reading the newspaper- Shaun Christy killed his wife!

Alfred, knitting- At least he had a wife to kill

Bruce-

[always-a-king-or-queen]

there are literally so many reasons why we don't need a third Narnia adaptation

first of all, while they might not be the most accurate, the Disney movies are actually so good and, in my opinion, still manage to capture the heart and soul of the series and what it's truly about. The characters are each perfectly portrayed; the Pevensies act like actual siblings and yet love each other dearly and would die for each other even through all the petty arguments; the music creates perfect atmosphere and emotion and never fails to make me tear up or get shivers down my spine; and the CGI is honestly just absolutely stunning.

I really do not feel like we need another adaptation by Netflix.

Especially not through Netflix.

Netflix has already been known to mess up so many shows and movies by completely changing the source material or adding in unnecessary things that completely take away from the purpose of the story. I can already see them warping Narnia into something that barely even resembles the books, that strips it of its purpose and simply makes it about a fantasy world, nothing more. I've already seen posts saying that the new movies just can't end the way the books end, that heaven must be explained away, that Susan never forgets and falls down a dark path, that the faith aspect must be taken out so as not to offend new viewers.

Here's the thing.

If you take faith out of Narnia, you remove the very heart of the series. you remove the entire purpose. Because Narnia is entirely about faith, and trust, and Someone greater than yourself who sacrifices everything to save your own traitorous soul. the Disney movies did not shy away from portraying this faith as openly as possible. if anyone was offended, I've never seen proof. I have seen many nonbelievers talk about how much they were affected by Aslan's death, which goes to show that you simply don't have to be Christian to understand what Narnia is about, and to love and enjoy it.

So if these new remakes remove the faith aspect, then what is the point? four siblings go to a magical land and save it from a witch and befriend a talking lion with nothing special about him and live there as kings and queens and return home and live happily ever after? there is no sacrifice, there is no "he's not tame, but he is good," there is no creation, there is no redemption, there is no last battle, there is no "in your world, I have another name", there is no sister straying down a dark path because she has forgotten how to hope, and then returning because her story is unfinished and the road to heaven is paved with flowers that symbolize her name.

so then, what are you left with? Aslan is just a talking lion, nothing more. the stone table never cracks, the sun never rises. "That by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there" is forgotten entirely, because why would Aslan exist in our world if he is merely a talking lion in Narnia? Aslan's country is changed to be something else, and there is nothing about how Aslan suddenly no longer looks like a lion, and how the things that happened after are more great and beautiful than can be described. Edmund's life is never threatened because of his traitorous deeds; Aslan never offers his own life in place of a guilty boy, is never killed, is never resurrected.

the very core of Narnia is removed, and what you are left with is emptiness.

sure, it might make for a good fantasy story nonetheless. you might still have sweeping views and epic music and an intriguing plotline, but something will always feel like it is missing. like there is an empty hole, desperately needing to be filled.

of course, I don't know that all of that will happen; it's just speculation at this point. But I am fairly sure that it is safe to predict these upcoming movies as such. I highly doubt the producers will want to include the faith that shapes Narnia, because according to them, having a faith aspect means less viewers since too many people would be offended.

but if only they would look at the already wonderful existing adaptations, they would know that is simply not the case.

[catz4ever]

I. SWEAR. TO. GOD. HE. BETTER. LIVE.

My poor baby has no idea Sauron's got the best of him again...😭