#wresting movie

[thedcomjar]

Despite being blind, Jace Newfield never lets anything stand in his way. When his family moves from New York to the Midwest, he must find a way to fit in at his new school. Soon, he takes up wrestling and - with the help of his teachers - strives to master his skills and guide his team to the championships

[snackugaki-jestsjapesjokes]

blep blah, here have some old ass backrooms doodle content when the topic of "the beach episode" concept came up bluhp blooh brain nyooming but art hand isn't arting

i think what is super cute in modern fandom expression that I've seen is that in terms of making OCs or AUs is that sound seems to have a bigger role now than from what I remember when I was young. which I'm thinking has a lot to do with being able to clip audio easily or being able to make multi-track playlists whenever. y'all out here with reels of your art with voice claims and some of the most thoughtfully and artfully crafted soundtracks-- not even playlists, some of that shit is a straight up soundtrack level be real

89% tempted to try one of those shady "free" video/audio editing programs to make a LoFi chill beats study girl visualizer playlist with my iteration's boys ...

anyway gonna contemplate music headcanons for my iteration under the cut

From Turtle Tracks fan letter section, Archie run, #24

so real quick, my iteration is literally just them chilling, hanging out, being together in their mid 30s- early 40s, and then sometimes flashing back to their child/teen years in the 90s because tl;dr i have miiiiiinor beef my childhood turtles weren't quite as "90s" as they "could have been" (nvm I'm cackling at the milennial pop culture refs in Mutant Mayhem drop kicking me back into my adolescence)

but mehehehehe, keeping that they listened to Public Enemy and The Jungle Brothers

and aside from Top 40 musicians of the time... I feel like being outsiders themselves, having to sneak around to explore and learn about people and what's above the sewers had them eavesdropping into a lot of nighttime venues and getting into the underground and various niche subculture scenes that daytime Top 40 didn't play.

cannot tell me the lights, thumping and noise from bands playing hardcore or house or hosting cyphers or raves didn't attract these curious and funky little green dudes like moths to a flame

... Leo definitely fell in deep with the gregorian chant phase, soothing sounds of nature fads , a big fan of Orbital and he fell into that electronic, house, trance, eurodance rabbit hole right after. he also got into Celtic folk music but when his brothers caught his ass studying Michael Flatley to incorporate Riverdance footwork into his ninjutsu he got teased so mercilessly that he took great care to hide listening to it... which just made his stealth better so joke's on them heehoo

Not to mention they're from New York City, the underground music scene is always bangin' no matter the decade; feel like rap and punk got a lot of tracks on their mix tapes back in the day

Raph getting into the metal scene in his own exploring the city trips, and then progressed to music with that boom bap sound (cuz baby boy needs a way to come down off those high intensity moods idk ijs)

Donnie... just the amalgamation of his brothers, he needs that background noise while he's chewing on schematics and protoype development, he would definitely have been the mixtape maker/recording bootlegger (along with Mikey)

Mikey absolutely tagged along with his brothers sometimes whenever they went to their spots for music, though he himself backflipped into ska 'cuz Mikey is always for the people

my tmnt  iteration (where everyone made it past their 20s, splinter’s alive just old, venus is here, and they deserve some goddamn respite and shenanigans)

tmnt  iteration part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

tmnt  iteration omake 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

lny visit 1 | 2

Keep reading

[zegoldensombrero]

Two art zines that I have made in the past 🎃 Made the art & did the layout, all handmade⚔️

The first is a “drawing a day” challenge where I chose whatever subjects I wanted to make portraits of, ranging from horror to gaming to pro wrestling 🎃 All done in ball point pen on drawing paper

The second is a collection of more finished illustrations, still pulling from a lot of different lowbrow influences but still going for a decidedly more “Halloween” theme. There’s even a Finnish metal reference hidden in there.

Both are currently available ⚔️ Thanks for looking 🎃

SHOP

[rachelannc]

‘The Iron Claw’ Review: An emotional tale of brothers and wrestling, helmed by Zac Efron's powerful transformation

Minutes into The Iron Claw, I eagerly awaited to see what was to be Zac Efron’s transformation into a professional wrestling sensation. It’s the early 1980s in suburban Texas and Efron’s incredibly buff muscular frame enters the camera. He heaves himself out of bed. He dons a mullet and glistening rock-hard abs. He tells the tale of the burden that his family is cursed. The world of…

[ashenvein-gate]

Obsessed with this poster for the movie Waterloo (1970) that so badly wants to be for a gay romance

[moonstruckme]

hi !! i saw that your requests were open and i'd really love if you wrote something with james (or poly!m !!) with a gn!reader taking up literature in uni who tends to get back pains from being hunched over reading and writing almost all hours of the day (definitely not projecting, hehe!)

i love the stuff you write and everythings just so sweetly written and portrayed so lovely !! thank you for keeping the marauders fandom alive lol

Thank you ml <3

modern au

poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 709 words

James plops down beside you on the couch, and when he pokes your spine you straighten reflexively. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, only half in the room as the rest of your brain continues working on your essay. 

“Are you really not done yet?” Sirius asks, putting a bag of popcorn in the microwave. You start typing faster. They’re going to want to start the movie soon, and then your laptop is going to be wrested away from you whether you’ve reached a stopping point or not. “I can’t remember the last time I spent more than a couple hours on an essay. You’ve been laboring over that thing all day.” 

“It’s a long one,” you admit, “but it’s hardly labor.” 

“Sure looks like it, when your back is hunched worse than a coal miner’s.” 

You give him a deadpan look. Sirius glances down at your fingers, still typing rapidly, and shudders. 

“Fucked how you can do that.” 

“Literature students might be the new coal miners,” says James.

You hum dubiously, looking back to your work. “Not sure that’s a super fair comparison.” 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t quite say that,” Remus agrees with you, “but it’s not like you’re not doing yourself any harm when you write all day like this, love. Your back is already hurting you—” 

“You’ll probably get carpal tunnel,” James adds. 

“—and I know looking at your laptop for this long gives you headaches.” Remus’ slow strides into the living room feel like a countdown clock. You manage to hammer out the end of your sentence just before he pulls your laptop out from under your fingers. “If you’re not careful, it’s gonna fuck up your sleep. That’s enough for tonight.” 

You sigh but don’t complain, rolling back your shoulders to ease some of the tautness there. Your spine crackles, quicker and louder than the popcorn popping in the kitchen, and James flinches away from you. 

“God, make it stop,” he pleads. 

You ignore him and roll your neck to the side, eliciting a series of cracks from there too. James makes a dramatically horrified sound and squeezes his eyes shut, and Remus grabs your head in both hands, restraining you. 

“Don’t,” he tells you severely. “We’ve been over this.” 

“Freak,” Sirius says lovingly as he pulls the bag of popcorn from the microwave. 

“It hurts,” you complain. 

“Sounds like it, fuck,” James agrees emphatically. Now the danger has passed, he leans towards you again, splaying a protective palm over your mid back. “Sirius, could you grab my icy hot from the fridge? Here, lovie, lie down.” 

Remus lets go of your face somewhat reluctantly, letting James help you lay across his lap. His hand smooths up and down your spine, pressing down lightly upon muscles rigid with tension. You sort of wish he’d just crush you. You’re sure he could, he doesn’t spend all that time at the gym for nothing. 

“I’m gonna get you a back brace,” Remus mutters, fondness under the veneer of resentment in his tone. 

“That'd be kind of hot.” Sirius lifts your feet, dropping down onto the couch before passing James the tube of cream. “Those are the strappy looking things, right? I’m for it.” 

“I do not consent,” you say clearly, then hiss as James applies the cool balm to your lower back. 

He and Sirius laugh. Remus reaches over to press your shoulders back down. 

“Easy, angel,” says James. “It’ll help.” 

“I didn’t know it’d be this cold,” you defend yourself, a little laugh tripping out of you as well. “You do this voluntarily?” 

“You’ll see why in a bit.”

“If I were spending all of my Saturday hunched over my laptop and a bunch of books,” Sirius says, “I think I’d at least use the right ‘your.’ What are they teaching you, babe?” 

You suppress a groan. You’d sent Sirius a grammatically incorrect text two days ago, and he’s yet to stop lording it over you. 

“That was autocorrect,” you tell him again. 

He hums noncommittally, tracing a path up your calf with his forefinger. “I’m just saying, can it really be worth it if we’re making those sorts of mistakes? Will they even still give you your degree?” 

“Sirius, their back is getting tense again. Knock it off.”

[toweroftickles]

Hi (:

What do you think about characters of "Inside out 2"? Do we have some lees here?

Ok I somehow didn't experience the original Inside Out until like 2 weeks ago, and then immediately rushed to theaters for the second one, and I have not been able to stop thinking about it since! Of course the first thing I started daydreaming about was the chaos that would ensue in Brain HQ during tickles. So yes, I've definitely got headcanons. XD

EMOTIONAL * RESPONSES

When Riley Gets Tickled

Joy squees, claps, bounces up and down, the usual. "AAAH Tickle time! Awww, our girl is still so adorable..."

Disgust: "Mm-mm. I hate this. Hate it. Majorly messing with my zen."

Sadness: *confused and a little uncomfortable*

Fear: *open-mouthed and deeply uncomfortable*

Envy gasps and hops up to the screen. "Omigosh omigosh they're touching us. That means they like us and think we're cute, right? Right?!"

Anger: "Oh, so that's how it's gonna be, huh?! You want a fight, kid?! I'll give ya a fight! Right up your -"

Anxiety: "Wait! There's a million possible variables in what'll happen if we decide to fight back! Accidentally punching them would be devastating to our network!"

Joy's not paying attention, she's too busy laughing and hammering the serotonin injector.

"I-I got it! Scream! Just holler, really loud!"

"GUHH, get out of the wayyyy; stop hogging this thing! We have to run! Come on!"

Ennui: *exists in French*

*Meanwhile Embarrassment is just spread out like a starfish and rolling his entire girth back and forth across the keyboard.*

When Riley's Tickling Someone Else

Joy takes the wheel here. The others know not to disturb a master plying her craft. She's an expert tickler, so she feeds Riley a whole bushel of fun ideas, and Envy is her eager troublemaker minion.

There is in fact a dedicated "Tickle" command button. The plastic is slightly stuck in the slot because it hasn't been used much.

Anger keeps trying to grab his levers and switches, but Joy usually shoves him to the side with her foot.

*tries to wrest control from Joy and rein her in*

*barfing in the corner somewhere*

When a Tickle Scene Pops Up in a Movie

Joy giggles happily and squirms in her seat, then boops the control panel so that Riley follows suit.

Disgust is a tiny bit antsy...she's not influencing Riley yet but she's on standby in case stuff gets weird.

Embarrassment gingerly taps the console at increasing intervals until Sadness pulls his arm away.

Ennui: Probably watching something else. Or doomscrolling.

When Someone Asks Riley if She's Ticklish

*screams like a little girl*

*hides, bangs head on the desk*

"That is NOT funny!"

"Oh no! What do we do; whaddawedo?! Riley's way too ticklish! What if they tickle us and don't stop for the rest of eternity?! What if they think Riley's laugh is weird and we're socially ostracized and forced to get a job in a fish cannery?!"

“Ew ew ew ew no. Lie. We have to lie right now!” *jumps for the controller*

*Joy grabs Disgust's arm* "Whoa whoa whoa, eeeaasy there. Let's just calm down...this is a fun question; we're having fun..."

Envy: "Ooo, what if they're ticklish and they want us to tickle them?" *already wiggling her fingers in the air*

"But if we misread that signal and make them mad at us, then..."

Ennui: *groans and taps her console app*

Riley, being super casual: “Meh…a little. Not really.”

Suddenly Riley's eyes dilate. Her throat hitches and there's the tiniest bit of pink in her cheeks. Everyone turns their heads to look at -

“EMBARRASSMENT!!! *dry heave* WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

"Ohhhh boy. There it is. We're doomed now."

When They Get Tickled Themselves

Come on, we all know that Joy always draws first blood. (Er...first giggle?) She's such a switchy monster. Tickling is her default method of cheering others up. It's canon. Case closed.

As someone whose default setting repels positivity, Sadness is not ticklish at all, and this actually upsets her.

*silently grabs the tickler by the neck and tosses them out the window*

Nobody protests like Disgust. She gets mad. She slaps. She hurls insults. She runs away. Disgust is both extremely ticklish and extremely touch-averse, so this is Code Red for her.

Fear is the type who doesn’t so much “laugh” as “have a shrieking, spastic outburst and breakdance like Sonic the Hedgehog in a malfunctioning taser-testing facility."

At first, Anxiety is overcome by stressful jitters, miserable and whimpering, and her whole body contracts. After a few moments of tickling, though, she starts to let all that tension out and relaxes into nervous vibrato laughter. It becomes sort of a therapeutic stress release, like her special chair.

It's not exactly the physical sensation of tickle torture that Envy craves, it's the attention. The sound she makes when tickled oscillates between wild, snorty cackles and the dulcet hoots of a baby owl trapped in a pinball machine.

Ennui is dead. No reaction. Her body is a neurological cemetery. ...EXCEPT for her heels and the back of her knees. (And if you thought phone loss made her experience Vietnam flashbacks...)

What do you think Embarrassment does? He plops himself down on the floor and pulls his hoodie so tight around his face that no one can tell if he's laughing or sobbing.

Misc.

As Riley's primary protector, Fear is always scouting ahead for any potentially-tickly environmental hazards, and gently nudges her away from catastrophe ("you forgot your shoes! put them back on before you walk on grass;" "don't lift your arms up around Bree and Grace;" "those massage chairs in the mall are actually full of rusty knives and drug dealers sleep on them;" etc.)

When Riley gets tickled, the emotions don't "feel" it, exactly, but they perceive something of a contact buzz.

These are typically how the reactions go, but they're not universal. If Riley's been in a bad mood, Anger might be more proactive in grabbing the handles. Embarrassment may have more or less of his body mass pancaking the buttons, depending on who's tickling her. (Like...a boy?! Or Val?! Or -) Standard variations like that.

Riley

Riley has an extremely ticklish tummy! That's her spot. (Just the vibe I get; IDK.)

Bree and Grace are really ticklish too, but Riley is the weak link... the member of the trio that the other two team up against. Lots of tickle fights and sneak attacks.

She obviously loves to laugh and goof around with her friends, but probably isn't over-enthused by that last part.

Val

The most popular girl in school, the tough athletic one - her adulating devotees wouldn't think it, but beneath that too-cool exterior, Val is very weak to tickling.

All the other Firehawks know, and like to tease Val by poking her.

She's a good sport about it and takes it like a champ - just yelps and laughs and pushes back. They have fun.

Her big weakness is her feet.

Lance Slashblade

Crop top alert. The abs are asking for it. (Just sayin.')

The thought of being tickled is intolerable to him. Even in this...what should be a moment of joyous camaraderie...he is haunted. Forced to laugh like...like some sort of...clown swordsman?! How could he be so weak...so degraded...so unworthy to carry the holy blade of his ancestors, they whose destinies were written in the stars ere these centuries long past? Will he never be a true warrior, with the strength to stem the tide of encroaching night? It is too painful to think about...the icy whips of humiliation, always ravenous and bitter in their lashes, strike! and cast him into the shadows and okay the joke's over now we're getting long-winded and edgelordery big words drama sparkling vampires and junk

(Also, yes, he Morph-Balls himself.)

[houserautha]

Only Pleasure Remains

Summary: Feyd-Rautha has other uses for the mouth of the Fremen prisoner refusing to talk.

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x GNFremen!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: he fucks your face, it’s nonconsensual, you kind of like it anyway, smut without plot, you get a facial, WITH his black cum because that’s too iconic of a HC not to include, he gets his happy ending but you don’t get yours. Literally.

A/N: I don’t think a Fremen would ever allow this to actually happen but I’m a whore and a slave to my simpler urges. Not gonna lie I wanted this to happen in the movie. Does this even make sense? I don’t know but it’s hot

The inner walls of the ruined sietch is a brief relief from the oppressive heat beating down on the desert planet. Feyd-Rautha discovers a group of his men restraining a prisoner, sunlight pouring in from the hole over their heads. As they notice him they break apart, revealing you to him for the first time since he received news of a survivor.

You’re covered in sandy grime and blood, the nose piece of your stillsuit dangling free, hair dirtied and loose from its previous style.

And you look fucking beautiful on your knees, even with your face wrenched in disgust and utter defiance. Feyd-Rautha didn’t expect to feel such an intense attraction to a Fremen. In fact, he reserves a moment to study you, to confront his desire like an untamed beast — pry open its mouth and examine its teeth.

“They refuse to talk,” one of the Harkonnen soldiers says. He nudges you with the nose of the lasgun and you snarl — you actually snarl — upper lip pulled back, blue-on-blue eyes glinting with hatred.

A trapped animal, desperate for freedom. Feyd-Rautha feels his cock stir.

“For now,” he says. He raises a hand. “Leave us.”

The soldiers exchange indecipherable glances before leaving, ducking back out into the blazing sun. Feyd-Rautha steps as close to you as he dares. Even with your limbs bound, he’s certain that you would do anything in your power to maim him.

“Your silence rings empty among the cries of those you loved,” he tells you. He towers over you, a sentinel of dangerous, crackling energy, wreathed in black armor. “The others are gone. Dead. What service is your silence to them?”

You stare up at him with your seething gaze.

Feyd-Rautha crouches beside you. Your hostility is nearly enough to bowl him over, a tangible, living creature between you.

“If you deny me this now, I will have no choice but to make you.”

He lifts a gloved hand to your cheek, lovingly whispering his fingers over the curve of your face before grabbing your chin. His grasp is enough to spring tears to your eyes, causing you to bite your tongue and draw blood, its coppery taste filling your mouth.

You should hate him. He stands for everything you’ve rallied against. Hell, he had just ordered his men to obliterate your home, your people. Yet you find yourself incomprehensibly drawn to this man who exudes power as effortlessly as others can breathe. It infuriates you. Revolts you.

Your aching, traitorous body pools with heat as Feyd-Rautha parts your lips and forces his thumb into your mouth. Sand grits over your teeth. His gloves taste of dry leather. Of blood; though it could very well just be your own. He presses his thumb down with enough force to shatter your jaw.

Feyd-Rautha rasps, “Then, since you refuse to speak, I will give your mouth a different purpose.”

He wrests his hand from your chin and pain explodes through your skull.

Feyd-Rautha rises once more to his formidable height and works to liberate his cock from his armor. You watch, horrified, transfixed, as he pulls his pants down just enough to show his powerful thighs and reveal a stomach taunt with muscles. His cock springs free and he wastes no time wrapping his hand at the base and stroking it fervently, all the while gazing down at you with naked, unfettered devotion.

And for some reason the sight of him like that transcends you, strips you completely bare. Your entire body trembles.

The na-Baron fists the hair at the back of your head and, without preamble, guides you to his cock, groaning as the warmth and wetness of your mouth envelops him. Anger flaring, you bite down as hard as you’re able — but instead of revoking himself, Feyd-Rautha snaps his hips, driving him deeper into your mouth instead.

He pants his appreciation, clearly undeterred by your teeth.

You gag on his size. He refuses to ease up, however, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. With each thrust, saliva builds, leaking from the sides of your mouth and wetting his shaft. You have no way to retaliate, to pull away, forced to endure him.

He withdraws long enough to show you the glint of pre-cum on his cock, how he spreads it across the head before burrowing it inside you again. The taste of his pre-cum is salty, mixing with your blood, and you can no longer deny your own arousal — you clamp your lips on his cock and suck, using your tongue to circle the salty mixture over it.

Feyd-Rautha releases a rumbling, guttural moan, hips bucking violently. “That’s right,” he rasps. “Take it.” He ignores your strangled pleas as he pushes himself deeper and deeper within you, tears now streaming down your face and cutting tracks through the sandy grime. He pulls out only to insert himself again, in and out, fucking your throat.

You’re unable to touch yourself, or him, and it makes the entire act that much more torturous. You apply this frustration with your mouth, sucking his considerable length every time he jams it past your lips, your mouth and jaw aching with the furious nature of the fucking.

Feyd-Rautha closes his eyes and loses himself in your slick mouth. He has just laid waste to your people and now you were taking him like the good little rat you were, a renegade whore, letting him force his cock down your throat and you were actually enjoying it.

Without warning, Feyd-Rautha withdraws from you, stroking his shaft and positioning himself before you. “Open,” he demands.

You obey and as soon as you do, warm sprays of his ink-colored cum soak your face. He jerks himself through his orgasm, breathy and primal, smooth brows furrowed in concentration. You breathe heavily, shoulders heaving, greedily drawing the air back into your lungs. It’s then that Feyd-Rautha drags his gloved fingers across your face, smearing his cum then pushing his fingers back into your mouth. You lick and slurp down his seed, languishing in the taste of him, unlike anything you’ve had before.

To offer your expense to a Fremen is to offer your life’s water. You don’t know if he realizes this, or even cares, he just watches you as you suck his gloved fingers clean.

Feyd-Rautha does know this sacrifice, this offering, and thinks it a just trade for what he’s prepared to do. He rights himself, fixing his armor. “Strange, what you wish to comply with,” he says. He leaves you like that — bound and covered with his cum, vulnerable — and as he vanishes around the corner you hear him call out, “Dispose of the rat.”

Tags:

@moonsoulk

@heartarianagran

@torchbearerkyle

@unicoreads

@taleah

@mamawiggers1980

@jovialeggsbailiffsoul

@harkonnin

@avidreader73

[old-people-like-avatar]

Netflix Avatar the Last Airbender S1 - Overall Thoughts [SPOILERS]

I am a longtime fan of Avatar the Last Airbender. I did not watch it in its original 2005 run, but I discovered it in around 2010 after my good friend R.S. recommended it to me. It's been my #1 favorite TV show ever since and I have rewatched it more times than I can count. I was cautiously optimistic about NATLA.

Now, having watched the whole first season of NATLA, and looking at the season as a whole, I think the best word to describe it is uneven. I can't say that I loved it, and I can't say that I hated it. But there were things I really liked about it and things that really did not work for me. Overall, I enjoyed watching it -- if only to dissect what did and did not work about the adaptation -- and would want to watch more.

WHAT WORKED

Everything to do with Zuko and Iroh. I found myself going back through just to rewatch all of the Zuko and Iroh-related scenes. I thought Dallas Liu really nailed Zuko -- from tantrums about his journal being stolen to incredible action sequences to the boyish vulnerability of worrying about the laces on his gauntlets. He took an iconic character and made him his own. NATLA added some incredible scenes and lines to my favorite duo: Lu Ten's funeral (coupled with orchestral version of "Leaves from the Vine"); Zuko's first war council; Iroh choosing to go with Zuko on the boat; the 41st Division; Iroh putting a blanket on Zuko. And I liked that NATLA emphasized that Iroh needed Zuko in the wake of Lu Ten's death as much as Zuko needed Iroh after his mother left.

Daniel Dae Kim's interpretation of Ozai. Ozai in ATLA is kind of one-dimensional. Daniel Dae Kim's Ozai adds a deeper layer to him in that he genuinely seems to think he's doing legitimate parenting -- even going so far as to visit Zuko after burning his face and remarking, glibly, that he'll recover ("but he'll never heal," says Iroh). It adds an even more monstrous angle to his cruelty because Kim's Ozai seems to think he's doing it for his children's own good. This post perfectly encapsulates my feelings about why I thought the agni kai between Ozai and Zuko was an excellent addition to NATLA.

Zuko/Aang. These two bonding over goat hair brushes was the scene I never knew I needed. The way Aang managed to wrest a little smile out of Zuko in that scene before Zuko blew up at him for criticizing the Fire Lord? And the way that tied into the "Compassion is a sign of weakness" scene from the agni kai? Great character work.

WHAT DID NOT WORK

Dialogue. I already observed at length my dissatisfaction with the clunky, exposition-dumping dialogue in my episode-by-episode writeups. It certainly wasn't as bad as the Movie-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named, but . . . there was no art or subtlety to it, and no trust in the audience. A disappointment.

The GAang did not feel like family. The lack of breathing room in the 8-episode season meant that all of the "filler" episodes that fleshed out the relationships between Aang, Katara, and Sokka were sacrificed. I am not saying NATLA needed to recapture each of the filler episodes. But they needed to build the foundational bonds between the main trio with showing not telling and they really didn't. They separated them for big chunks of 2 episodes. And, really, they just felt like traveling companions. That took all of the emotional heft out of, well, everything related to Aang, Katara, and Sokka. I mean, frankly, the kid actors did a better job establishing the "family" dynamic just by being themselves in their press interviews than the show did with the characters.

Aang did not run away from responsibility. I am not one of those people that's just mad that the show wasn't exactly like the cartoon. No. What I mean is, even putting aside the cartoon, even if you just look at NATLA itself: their own themes were undercut by never showing Aang actually running away from responsibility. Each avatar seemed to be berating Aang for doing something he was never actually shown to be doing.

Katara. I really don't think this one is on the actress. Katara felt like a fundamentally different character from ATLA's Katara. It's not to say an adaption is not allowed to have their own interpretation of a character, but... I just did not understand NATLA Katara. There was no passion, no rage, no overbearing nurturing. She was... I don't know what she was. Traumatized, yes, but nothing grew out of that trauma? Meek, until the plot demanded that she suddenly become a waterbending master without any guidance other than a waterbending scroll? The "younger sister"? More than any of the main characters, I'm not sure what NATLA was trying to say about Katara at all. And, as a result, I'm afraid the word to describe it might be uninteresting. And given that she is the heart and soul of Team Avatar, this one was really tough.

Despite the fact that a lot of NATLA did not work for me, I still enjoyed it because the things that did work for me, well, really worked. So. I'm here for all of the Zuko/Iroh scenes!

[mustainegf]

OK. So you and ‘97 james r besties. You and him r play fighting. you pull on that fuckin wolf choker, and he *whines* and it turns into him dry humping you as you pull on the choker ♥️🦐

GUYS I JUST WANNA SAY IN ADVANCE!!! yes I know that irl James got the wolf necklace from cliff!! This is in no way disrespect to cliff or his memory. Let’s say James bought the necklace for himself in this fic!!

𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 ¹⁹⁹⁷

What had begun as only another night, the evening innocently begun was just hanging out with James, my best friend, one with whom I was really just myself, had seen us spend countless hours upon this very same couch. We watched movies and talked about life, and sometimes we would just be in each other's soundless company, speaking without speaking.

A giggle rose, small, in the air between James and me as he started wresting with me on the couch. His rough hands held playfully to my arms as I pushed against him. It was an old game, waged hundreds of times before. There was a bubbly feeling of laughter. Yes, we were always close, but this was one of those moments when all our friendship cereal had gotten saturated with flirtation milk.

James had been showing off the stupid wolf choker he had recently been wearing, thinking it added something to his appearance, making him look 'edgy' or whatever. I couldn't help myself from teasing him about this. Slumped back on the couch, he hovered me with a smug grin smeared on his face, very obviously proud of the necklace, and I wasn't going to let this go without a little teasing given at his expense.

I reached forward and took the choker, pulling on it lightly. My fingers brushed against the leather as the metal wolf's head gleamed under the room light, and I couldn't resist yanking at it a little more, leaning into the joke. "Oh, oh, oh, look at the little wolf necklace on the tough guy!" I went on in my teasing way, voice of honey and sugar, as I tried for the big pitch, mocking.

James whined softly, a sound I hadn't expected to hear... at all. But something changed. The more I pulled on the necklace, the more James's expression changed. His eyes went darker. His gaze glued onto mine, and for a moment, I couldn't move, couldn't even breathe.

His breath was warm against my cheek, the kind that makes your pulse scramble as he got within an inch from my face. His lips were close enough for me to feel the heat coming off them.

The next thing I knew, I could feel him nudging against my leg, his hips shifting in a way that made my breath catch in my throat. It was electric, just a slow burn melting through my veins as realization set in. James let out this low, throaty moan, his eyes flicking shut for a brief moment as he leaned in even closer, if it was even possible.

His whines left me a bit in shock, my mind struggling to catch up with such a sudden change, but there couldn't be any denial in the fact that the flair of attraction from before had somehow turned into an actual full-blown fire. That look, the hunger, was impossible to tear my eyes from.

It was as if every wall we'd built over the years of just being friends crumbled in literal seconds. I yanked harder on the necklace, the leather biting into my fingers as I pulled, the silver of the wolfs head glimmering under my grip. I felt a strange control as James' eyes started to tip back into his head. His hips thrusted to some internal time as his cock was batted against my thigh, causing his flesh to tremble with every stroke.

"Ah, James, you are such a dirty boy," I teased, my voice raspy in a way I had not meant. It just slipped out, the words oozing out of me. "You like when I do that…pull on your little necklace, don't you?"

James's answer was a low growl, his hips jerking faster the way he was humping me, and his desperation sent a shiver up my spine. I just had to laugh at the comedy involved. Who would ever have thought that playful fighting would come to this? It was ridiculous, really, the way we'd gone from teasing each other like children to this heated, erotic moment.

I whispered, "You want me to pull harder, don't you? You want me to make you cum..." The words were bold, so much bolder than what I'd ever used with him before, but they seemed so right.

James gave a strangled moan; the rest of his body vibrated, and his hips twitched, humping at me like he couldn't help himself, like it was life or death.

"Fu-fuck. yes.".

I kept tugging harder on the choker, its leather digging into his neck with every yank. This friction drove me absolutely mad, every move of his cock upon my leg brought us both a surge of pleasure. "Oh, James, you're so close," I teased, my voice soft. "I can feel it. You're gonna cum in your pants, aren't you?"

The words were both challenge and promise. I could feel the way they affected him, his entire body tensing as he humped faster, the jerking of his hips back and forth like it was his life. All of a sudden, his body shook, breath hitching in his throat, and he paused for a brief moment before a shudder seemed to shoot up his core.

I could feel how the heat of his release was soaking through his boxers, and it was becoming more noticed with every passing second as a tiny wet patch spread, the evidence of his orgasm staining the fabric.

James slumped against me, and his body held a tremor with the effort he had used. He let out a low groan, his chest pumping up and down as he fought for breath. Again, I couldn't help letting a giggle out at just how ridiculous this all was. "You're such a dirty boy, James," I whispered into his ear.

James leaned back then, a lazy smile melted on his face, his eyes half lidded. "You're the one who's dirty," he panted. "You're the one who made me cum…"

I laughed, soflty, gazing back at the man. "Maybe I am," I said playfully, my tone light as I reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. "But, you have to admit, it was fun."

James's grin widened, and the thread of fatigue broke as he leaned closer to nuzzle his nose against mine. "Of course," he whispered. His fingers trailed down my arm, sending shivers up my spine as he murmured, "Bedroom. Now. Where we can settle this the right way."

The dominant words suddenly caused a pool of pleasure between my thighs.

"And the necklace stays on."

[alottiegoingon]

video games

shauna shipman x gn!reader

summary: shauna gets annoyed by your poor video gaming skills

warnings: nothing but fluff, pure comedy, not proofread

thank you for sending me your idea love @danisbrainrot 😽

"you are in my spot," you cross your arms, standing in front of shauna, whom you've coerced into playing video games with you.

she was busy turning the tv on and arranging the controllers, completely absorbed in her task and not bothering to stop it to discuss the topic with you. but most important, she was on your seat. your favorite spot in the couch.

"just sit over there," she murmurs, pointing with her head to the empty space right beside her, her eyes fixed on the screen as she selects the game.

"i can't, this is my lucky spot!" you protest impatiently.

"are you serious?" shauna drops the controller onto the coffee table, finally granting you the courtesy of meeting your gaze.

"yes, i always win when i'm sitting there."

"there's no such thing as a lucky spot, it's just a seat," she remarks, raising an eyebrow at you as though you've lost your mind.

"then how come i keep winning?" you tilt your head, adopting a cocky tone to emphasize your point, gaze locked in a battle of wills.

"because i let you, obviously," she retorts, her words laced with amusement as she chuckled at such an absurd idea. you groan, storming to sit beside her in the couch.

you didn't have much of a choice but to suck it up and let her take your seat. it was already a lot of work to convince her to play with you and you didn't want her to change her mind now.

for someone who was so eager to have your lucky spot, shauna wasn't even trying. she would much rather watch a movie or write on her super secret journal than to play a kid's game and you were well aware. but things changed when you started to lose.

"stop drifting to the right so much or you're gonna lose," shauna lounged lazily on the couch, her eyes fixed on the screen as she murmured mean comments, her impatience growing quickly. with each collision of your car against the barriers, her posture stiffened, her fingers curling into fists.

"i'm trying, shauna!" unlike her during the first minutes watching you play, you were a nervous wreck. your gaze glued to the tv, heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to regain control of the game.

"you know what? give me that!" she lunged for the controller in your hands, desperately attempting to wrest it away from you and save the game.

"what? no! i told you you were in my lucky spot!" you protest, using your elbows to fend her off. "stop, it's not your turn! you didn't even want to play in the first place."

"i'm trying to help you, you idiot!" she lowers her head in your direction, sinking her teeth into your shoulder through your clothes to distract you. as you recoiled in pain, she seized the opportunity to snatch the controller from your grasp.

great. now she had your seat and the controller.

[tomiyeee]

just some random rottmnt details i've noticed while rewatching that i wanted to point out cuz i think they're fun 👉👈

i'm sure there's more i just forgot them lol

mikey sounding genuinely angry and jumping to raph's defense when the others insult/doubt him ("Mystic Mayhem"/"Down with the Sickness")

pre-mutation mrs. nubbins in "Repo Mantis"

mikey's first instinct when they realize repo isn't a threat is to warn him of danger. he just wants to look out for their fellow mutants ;-; ("Repo Mantis")

leo's little plant pots on his desk ("Down w/the Sickness" but it shows up in a lot of episodes)

tiger drawing on the wall above splinter's bed ("Down w/the Sickness")

“Hypno! Part Deux” took place at some point during the “Repo Mantis” episode, since the puppy playground is in construction in the background when april calls donnie

mrs. cuddles tied the boys/april up in splinter's room (idk why i just find this a bit interesting)

one of piel's crew members was at the hidden city spa that leo was at in "Bad Hair Day"

people probably pointed this out but splinter having a body pillow of himself.... 😭 ("End Game")

exercise equipment (and a wresting ring?) outside the subway car across from leo's, which means it's probably raph's bedroom (Movie)

donnie trying to hold raph back by throwing his whole body weight onto him, but raph is so big compared to him that he probably didn't even feel the difference LMAO

[chickenkurage]

"The worst caretaker…...DJ Welch himself"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Summary: Alan had some errands to attend to and left the hollow pineapples in DJ's care. He trusted DJ implicitly; after all, he had proven his reliability with the apples. Surely, DJ could handle looking after the hollow pineapples... or so Alan thought.

Tag: Comedy, Humor, Slight Hurt/Injury (mostly DJ)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Hey, where are you headed?" DJ asked, tearing his attention away from the TV, with Red and Green engrossed in the movie on his lap, while Yellow and Blue dozed on his left leg.

"Oh, just running some errands. This means I'll need to entrust the pineapples to you," Alan explained, flashing a small smile as DJ heaved a sigh.

"You know I can't handle the chaos those four bring," DJ deadpanned. "Well, three, Vic isn't that wild... yet," he added, a shiver running down his spine, prompting a raised eyebrow from Alan.

"I trust you won't let them come to harm. The apples can be just as unruly," Alan remarked, tilting his head as DJ chuckled, gently petting the heads of Green and Red, eliciting soft 'meep' sounds from the pair.

"Well, they can be chill if they want to... but how long will you be gone exactly?" DJ raised an eyebrow, prompting a thoughtful hum from Alan. "I'm not entirely sure, but rest assured, I'll be back sooner than you can imagine," Alan reassured, flashing a grin as DJ scratched his head, mulling over the timeframe.

"Well," DJ began tentatively, his voice slightly higher as he debated internally. "Meep?" Second peeked out from the wall, prompting all four apples on DJ's lap to spring up excitedly and leap off the sofa. "There they go... ugh, fine, I'll take care of them," DJ groaned, resigned to the task as Alan let out a small laugh.

"Thanks, DJ. I knew I could rely on you," Alan chuckled, shaking his head as Second hoisted Red above his head and dashed around. DJ yelped, leaping to his feet and chasing after them.

"Great catch!" Alan laughed as DJ swiftly dove to the floor, managing to intercept Red and Second just before they tumbled down.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Cho, stop that! Don't!" DJ exclaimed, wresting the knife from the black pineapple's grasp and pulling him close, only to be pummeled by Cho's relentless punches. With a groan, DJ carefully placed the knife on the kitchen cabinet. Turning around, his eyes widened at the sight of Dark poised to dunk Vic into a pot of boiling water.

"Dark, no!" DJ yelled, swiftly intervening to rescue both Dark and Vic, their surprised 'chip's echoing loudly. "Oh, help me, above," DJ cried out, swiftly carrying the two pineapples to the living room and depositing them on the couch where the apples were peacefully napping in a dogpile.

"Don't you all take afternoon naps? Look at my kids," DJ gestured towards the apples snuggled together. He then turned back to the pineapples, who were chattering and chirping amongst themselves. "Ugh," DJ groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, half-tempted to swaddle them all in a burrito and hang them from the stair rails.

"I’m half tempted to stuff you all in a sock, you know that, right?" DJ threatened, eyeing the pineapples, Sec responding with a chip before dashing to embrace the serene Vic, who remained unperturbed.

"Please, just try to be more like Vic. Look at him, so chill. Why can't you all—wait... where's Dark?" DJ's eyes widened as he counted the hollowheads, stopping at three; the red hollowhead was missing. A grinding sound caught his attention, and he turned to see Dark atop the cabinet, nudging a vase towards the edge.

"For goodness' sake!" DJ growled, sprinting towards Dark, managing to catch both the vase and Dark just before they tumbled down. The sudden save caused DJ to stumble, hitting his side against the cabinet in the process.

With a groan, torn between the pain and the urge to scold Dark, DJ's emotions softened when Dark emitted a frightened 'chip,' prompting a sigh from DJ. After carefully returning the vase to its place, he rubbed his side, contemplating his next move.

"Dark, don't do that again... or else," DJ warned, fixing an intense glare on Dark, who nodded in understanding, clinging to DJ's thumb with his tiny arms.

"Don't repeat that, understand? I'll really stuff you in a sock," DJ reiterated firmly, Dark nodding repeatedly in response. Letting out a sigh, DJ gave him a gentle pat. "Good—” DJ's smile faltered as a loud crash interrupted him. Whirling around, he found only Vic beside Green on the couch.

"What—?" DJ began, before spotting Sec and Cho locked in a scuffle on the floor, toppling the coffee table in their tussle. "What the heck?!" DJ exclaimed, leaping into action to separate them, with Dark perched on his arm, watching the chaos unfold, possibly even encouraging Sec to land a punch on Cho's face.

Dark waved his stubby arms as DJ intervened to prevent Sec and Cho from engaging in a full-blown brawl. "Stop, both of you! I swear to Alan, I'll tie you up and turn you into chandeliers!" DJ threatened, but Sec and Cho persisted in their scuffle.

It took nearly an hour of tireless effort for DJ to finally lull the pineapples to sleep, a task that consumed much of his day. Carrying the four troublesome fruits, he tried various methods to coax them into slumber. Now, utterly drained, DJ found himself groaning in exhaustion, resting his head on the armrest of the couch. The apples and pineapples lay peacefully asleep beside him, the room finally quiet 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Yellow, out of everyone, I trust you. Please, watch over all of them," DJ implored, gazing down at Yellow, who nodded in understanding. With a sense of reassurance, Yellow turned to observe the apples and pineapples left in the cart, alongside the empty baskets awaiting a fresh harvest of apples.

"Meep!" Yellow saluted, offering DJ a nod before bouncing back towards the cart and climbing up. DJ emitted a sound that was a mix of a groan and a sigh as he redirected his attention to the trees. Retrieving his gloves from his pockets, he slid them on, preparing for the task ahead.

With a deep breath, he stretched his arms overhead, letting out a groan before winding up for a swing. His fist connected with the tree in a swift motion, causing apples to rain down into the awaiting baskets. The tree bark groaned loudly, and the roots beneath the soil snapped, gradually tilting the tree until it fell in one fluid motion.

"Oops," DJ winced as the tree tumbled, but he quickly turned his attention to the cart, exhaling with relief as he saw all the apples and pineapples still safely gathered. As long as they stayed put and didn't wander off, they would be out of harm's way.

The thought of a tree falling on them made DJ shudder, a scenario he hoped to avoid at all costs. With a deep breath, he gathered the baskets and carried them back to the cart. "Looks like you're all having fun...playing cards? Where did you get those?" DJ raised an eyebrow, spotting Dark attempting to conceal the cards behind his back.

The group glanced nervously at DJ before he burst into laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. Dark let out an annoyed 'meep' in response.

"Alright, you guys can play poker, but if Alan catches you, don't blame me," DJ chuckled, giving them a playful warning as he gestured for them to continue their game. With a wave, he headed towards the next tree.

Amidst the playful meeps and chips of the fruits, DJ chuckled softly. After rotating his shoulder a few times, he proceeded to fell one tree after another, the repetitive thuds echoing through the orchard.

"Maybe I should take it down a notch," DJ muttered to himself as he surveyed the fallen trees. The expanse of apple trees on their land seemed excessive, posing a challenge for him as he wasn't keen on deforestation. It was also becoming tiresome to handle the excess wood, especially with the surplus already stored in the barn by Alan.

"Ugh," DJ groaned, rolling his eyes as he wiped sweat from his forehead, feeling the weight of his physical exertion. With a sigh, he directed his attention to the last tree scheduled for today. After a brief moment of preparation, he approached it, rolling his shoulders and giving them a light massage to relieve some tension.

He turned towards the cart, releasing a relieved sigh at the sight of the fruits still perched atop the baskets. Each of them held their own apples, even Red balancing one on his head. The scene brought a small smile to DJ's face

DJ snickered at the sight of the fruits being surprisingly endearing when they weren't causing chaos.

He refocused on the task at hand and delivered the strongest punch he could muster, causing the tree and the apples to tumble simultaneously. Grinning with satisfaction, he dusted his hands off, only to let out a startled yell at the sight of Dark positioned behind the falling tree.

"Shit! Dark!" DJ's cry pierced the air as he lunged towards the pineapple, his knees skidding on the grass as he threw himself over Dark, shielding him from the imminent danger of the descending tree. The weighty tree crashed down on top of them, enveloping them in darkness.

Amidst the crushing weight, a fleeting thought crossed DJ's mind, a nap wouldn't be so bad. His body ached as he felt Dark shifting beneath him. Gritting his teeth against the discomfort, he managed to push the tree aside, allowing Dark to wiggle free from his grasp.

Dark's concerned 'Meep! Meep! Meep!' filled the air as he patted DJ's cheek, as DJ's eyes fluttered shut, succumbing to the overwhelming exhaustion and pain.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Everyone relax, he’s just sleeping, we’re hollowheads, we can’t get hurt easily”. As DJ slowly regained consciousness, a familiar voice chuckled nearby. 

Opening his eyes groggily, he felt a weight on his side and chest. "Al?" DJ mumbled, rubbing his head in confusion.

"DJ, how did it feel for a tree to fall on you?" Alan's laughter filled the air as DJ sat up, letting out a grunt of discomfort. The apples and pineapples leaped onto his lap, emitting a chorus of meeps and chips as they clamored around him, hugging his chest in relief.

"It was pretty intense. Okay, everyone, relax, I'm not dead yet," DJ reassured them, a chuckle escaping his lips. He observed Dark grabbing onto his jumper and climbing up to perch on his shoulder, emitting a soft 'meep' while hugging DJ's cheek with a hint of sadness and regret.

Amused by the scene, Alan watched with a hand over his mouth, attempting to stifle his laughter. DJ rolled his eyes playfully. "At least you feel bad. Your father here doesn't even seem to care that you guys were almost traumatized," DJ teased, prompting a grin from Alan.

It was until later that DJ and Alan found themselves cuddling on the couch. Lulled by the peaceful scene with the fruits nestled between them, DJ couldn't help but voice his exhaustion. "I am never taking care of your kids ever again, man," he mumbled, stifling a yawn as he felt Alan chuckle beside him.

"Can't keep up, old man?" Alan teased, provoking a raised eyebrow from DJ. "You wish. By the way, you're older than me," DJ retorted with a grin, prompting a chuckle from Alan in response.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Thank @kiaerinnn for pushing me to create this xDD, I realized I don't feed you guys much, OOPS xD. Anyways, just request and I'll give - S

[babydollmarauders]

LUKEY’S B-DAY — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

luke hughes x platonic!reader

notes: a short birthday post for our now 20 year old pookie 🫶🏻

y/n.hughes

liked by lhughes_06, jackhughes, and 117,253 others

y/n.hughes

to my Lukey,

as an only child, i always hoped and prayed for a younger sibling, and you may not be much younger than me, but you’ve sure taught me what being an older sister is all about.

you’re my confidant, close friend, little brother, and like my oldest child, all wrapped into one perfect package. watching you grow up has been the most rewarding and joyful experience, and i’ll forever be grateful that i’ve gotten to witness it.

the patience, kindness, and compassion that you share with El is truly amazing, and i couldn’t be happier that she has an uncle like you to be by her side.

thank you for always being there for me to rant to, being my test subject for new recipes, always dropping everything to watch El, watching scary movies with me when Jack won’t, and for sleeping on the floor next to Jack and i’s bed after the said scary movie gave me nightmares.

happy birthday bubba, love you so much!

welcome to the 20’s club ♥️

p.s. thank you for treating me like family without actually wresting me like you do your brothers

tagged lhughes_06

Load more comments

lhughes_06 thank you, lovie ❤️ thanks for always cheering me on. love you!

y/n.hughes forevermore, lukey <3

jackhughes damn i look good in those pics

y/n.hughes this isn’t about you, love

jackhughes right. happy birthday moosey! 🫎

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes haha thanks bro

_quinnhughes happy birthday, Luke! sorry i couldn’t be there to celebrate!

lhughes_06 thanks Quinny! all good!

trevorzegras AYOOO HAPPY BIRTHDAY DUKES! 🔞🥳

y/n.hughes you know he’s 20 now, right? not 19?

trevorzegras duh, 🔞 means no longer a teenager. jeez lovie

y/n.hughes sometimes i’m glad i only see you a few times a year 🤍

trevorzegras but most times you miss me and cry yourself to sleep because you just wanna see me

y/n.hughes yeah, that’s what happens. Jack can confirm.

trevorzegras i knew it

dylanduke25 birthday; noun; the anniversary of the day on which a person was born, typically treated as an occasion for celebration and the giving of gifts.

y/n.hughes can’t say i’m not confused, but i think this is a happy birthday wish?

lhughes_06 you’d be correct. thanks duker!

_alexturcotte happy birthday not-so-little Hughes!

lhughes_06 little Hughes is El now! thanks bro!

colecaufield happy day of birth dude! hope you have a blast!!

lhughes_06 thank you Cole! appreciate it, man!

dawson1417 happy birthday rusty! see you soon!

lhughes_06 thanks Daws! see you soon!

nicohischier happy 20th, Luke! your present will be awaiting you in Jersey!

lhughes_06 thanks cap! present?

y/n.hughes @/lhughes_06 if i’m not mistaken, he is your present

nicohischier i’m A present, but not HIS present

y/n.hughes okay, then i stand corrected

[mariacallous]

Now that the Democratic National Convention is over, the next major battleground in the 2024 election is the media.

The Harris-Walz campaign needs to be ready.

Although former President and Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump has struggled to respond to the new Democratic ticket, Republicans will likely get in line with a unified media strategy. The message they will seek to promote is that Democrats are running the most radical, leftist candidates in U.S. history.

In recent elections, Democrats have had difficulty with the new turbocharged, fast-moving and unfiltered media landscape. In 2016, Trump beat former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, harping on the investigation into her emails. In 2020, President Joe Biden defeated Trump, but under unusual pandemic circumstances that put much of the conventional campaign processes on hold. As campaign conditions returned to normal this year, things did not go as well for Biden. One televised debate, noted New York Times columnist James Poniewozik, brought his candidacy to an end: “There was simply a horrendous TV outing—less than two hours that changed history.” But even before Biden stepped onstage, his poll numbers were lagging after a conservative media onslaught about his age and alleged corruption.

To sustain the energy that boosted Vice President Kamala Harris through the convention in Chicago, Harris’s campaign needs to devise an effective media strategy tailored to the current era. To do so, her team should look back to 1992, when then-Arkansas Gov. Bill Clinton’s savvy war room figured out how Democrats could thrive in another new age—of cable television, investigative journalism, and state-of-the-art political advertising. While the news media has evolved significantly in terms of form and content since Clinton won the presidency, Harris will need to achieve a mastery similar to that of Clinton’s historic campaign team.

The early 1990s seem like simpler times. In January 1994, NBC Today Show’s Bryant Gumbel asked his cohost Katie Couric: “What is the internet anyway?” Email was a novelty. Surfing was done in the ocean. Cable news played by the traditional rules of objective reporting. Smartphones were in development, and cell phones remained a luxury. Social media meant going to the movies with friends.

Yet the 1992 presidential campaign—which pitted Clinton, then-incumbent President George H.W. Bush, and independent candidate Ross Perot against each other in a race for the White House—took place across a media landscape that had changed dramatically since the 1960s. Cable had created a 24-hour news cycle where stories came out quickly. These stations, as well as the increasingly popular one-hour network news zine-style shows (Nightline, for example), depended on a healthy audience share for their livelihood, in contrast to the public service ethos of the half-hour nightly news programs from earlier times. This shift meant that sensationalism became a hot commodity. Investigative journalism born from Watergate had given rise to a generation of reporters who were constantly on the hunt for wrongdoing. Moreover, conservative talk radio had exploded after the Federal Communications Commission abandoned the fairness doctrine in 1987. Syndicated hosts such as Rush Limbaugh commanded between millions of listeners on over 600 stations. Daily tabloid newspapers and comedic shows, too, were having a greater impact on politics.

And in advertising, the “Morning in America” campaign that helped then-incumbent President Ronald Reagan win reelection in 1984 set a new standard for sophisticated production techniques. Television spots became like short films, capable of seducing and devastating all at once.

Starting with the 1980 election, and as a party felt to be on the outs from the mainstream culture, the GOP saw an opportunity to shape the national conversation through an aggressive media strategy that defined the way the public perceived its opponents and itself. As they built a new conservative majority, Republicans made huge investments which very often paid off.

In 1980 and 1984, Reagan’s campaign team managed its message to transform the one-time conservative extremist into the nation’s savior. Then, in 1988, Bush pulled together one of the most brutal campaigns of modern history under the direction of South Carolina campaign consultant Lee Atwater. Atwater tore down all the guardrails as to what was permissible, institutionalizing an anything-goes philosophy. Playing on themes of patriotism, religious nationalism, and a racial backlash, Bush and Atwater redefined the promising Massachusetts Gov. Michael Dukakis—an intelligent technocratic reformer—into a heartless left-wing radical who looked terrible in a tank.

In 1992, from its perch in Little Rock, Arkansas, Clinton’s inner circle was determined not to repeat these experiences. It had been hardened during the primaries when its candidate barely survived a sex scandal involving Arkansas state employee Gennifer Flowers. James “the Ragin’ Cajun” Carville had guided Clinton through the crisis and emerged as the central figure behind the “comeback kid.” In a scene captured in the 1993 documentary The War Room, which provides the best look into this critical campaign, Carville warned his staff that Democrats needed to step up or conservatives such as Fox News chairman Roger Ailes would destroy them. With Carville leading the way, Clinton’s war room also included George Stephanopoulos (communications), Paul Begala (chief strategist), Stanley Greenberg (polling), and Mandy Grunwald (advertising).

Several principles guided Carville’s army. Speed was essential. In the cable era, sitting out of stories was no longer an option. Being patient could leave a candidate in the dust. The war room deployed a rapid response style that left no charge unanswered for long and aimed to provide counterarguments before allegations could set in the public mind. When reporters raised an accusation, Clinton’s team rejected the claims with resolve and force. At the same time, whenever Carville and Stephanopoulos got hold of any potentially damaging information about Bush or Perot, they released it to the media immediately rather than trying to think up the best spin.

Tired of the defensive and despondent outlook of Democrats following the political bloodbath in 1988, Clinton’s war room insisted that Democrats needed to play offense. “Why can’t we attack George Bush?” the documentary shows Carville asking his team. The film portrays an effort that fizzled as the team tried to stir a story about Bush having campaign material made overseas rather than in the United States. Nor was it shy about ripping into the weaknesses of Bush’s record.

In doing so, the Clinton war room also elevated clarity into an artform. Carville’s team grasped how long and complicated arguments did not fly in an age of soundbites. They famously drew on a board: “the economy, stupid.” There were two other punchy slogans to guide them: “Change versus more of the same” and “don’t forget health care.” That reminder to staffers was also an example of how to convey a message with simplicity. According to the Los Angeles Times, the crew in Little Rock “share[d] a belief in the primacy of ‘the message’ as the driving force in a presidential campaign, downplaying the importance of such traditional political tools as precinct organizations, registration drives and Election Day turnout efforts.”

The team also worked to sell the message through the realm of popular culture, traditionally dismissed as undignified. Clinton appeared on the Arsenio Hall Show and MTV, in People, and more. The campaign blitzed talk show hosts with information that made Bush look like an out-of-touch well-to-do who only cared about foreign policy while constantly reminding them of Clinton’s humble origins.

In November 1992, Clinton won with 370 Electoral College votes. Four years later, he defeated Sen. Robert Dole and was reelected.

Subsequent Democrats could not replicate his success. In 2000 and 2004, respectively, Vice President Al Gore and Sen. John Kerry failed to be as effective on the media stage. Decorated Vietnam veteran Kerry, for instance, was shell-shocked when then-incumbent President George W. Bush’s campaign tagged him as a flip-flopping politician and an independent group invented the concept of “swift-boating” by throwing out false accusations to discredit his military record. Political consultant Chris LaCivita, who is currently co-managing Trump’s campaign, was one of the people who produced the spot for the “Swift Boat Veterans for Truth” smear campaign.

Barack Obama reset Democratic campaign strategy in 2008. David Axelrod and his band of campaign operatives updated Carville’s model, demonstrating how effective use of social media tools such as Facebook, well-produced television spots with Reagan-like narratives, and not responding to the daily noise from the internet and cable television could provide a recipe for victory. Sen. John McCain and his running mate, Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin, were no match.

Of course, the media campaign was a complement, not an alternative, to an aggressive turnout strategy that focused on driving up total votes in all 50 states.

The media challenges in 2024 have expanded again, even as the old ones remain relevant. One of the most grueling challenges facing Harris and Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz will be to survive the onslaught of disinformation, deepfakes, and openly partisan news that will hit them from all sides in the months to come. The recent hack by Iran, which Trump claims targeted his campaign, is a reminder that foreign interference will also be a problem.

Harris also needs to compete successfully in what New York Times columnist Ezra Klein has called the “attention field.” News moves at a fast speed and those who consume political news tend to move on very quickly. Attention spans are not easy to maintain. An effective campaign has to figure out how to keep the media focused on its candidate and message for substantial periods of time.

Between now and Election Day, Harris will be facing an opponent who has proven to be effective at working the media. Trump has repeatedly demonstrated an instinctive feel for the rhythm and dynamics of the news cycle. As president, he capitalized on the interconnected relationship between social media, cable news, online newspapers, and podcasts to dominate the national conversation and harden perceptions about opponents. He handled televised debates like a reality show, using body movements, facial expressions, controversial comments, and vicious insults. Most recently, he capitalized on an attempted assassination, standing up with blood dripping down his ear, surrounded by U.S. Secret Service agents, defiantly pumping his fist in the air and yelling: “Fight! Fight! Fight!” It was as if he could see how the event looked on a television screen.

Thus far, Harris’s team has been extremely effective on this playing field. It has staged the rollout methodically to generate good feeling, excitement, and constant media attention. Harris’s memes have caught fire on social media. Harris appears to have selected Walz as her running mate in part because of how adroit he has proven to be in this playing field despite being 60 years old. By uttering one word, “weird,” Walz remade the messaging of his entire party. When Republicans lobbed their initial attacks against Walz’s military record, the social media army hit back hard, although some commentators believe it needs to hit back harder.

The fight is only beginning. Democrats should not fool themselves into thinking Trump will simply lay down his gloves and walk away. When backed into a corner, Trump traditionally becomes more brutal.

But as Clinton’s war room demonstrated in the 1992 election, a savvy Democratic campaign updated to suit the modern media environment can take down the fiercest opposition and pave a road that leads to the White House.

[crazyk-imagine]

Past Fights and Bloodlines

Pairing: Danny Williams x McGarrett!reader, Steve McGarrett x McGarrett!reader (Cousins)

Characters: McGarrett!reader (Cousin), Steve McGarrett, Danny Williams, Chin Ho Kelly, Kono Kalakaua

Warnings: Fluff, hehe I love this so much, Danny and reader met once years ago, I am hinting at the one wresting movie Scott Caan did in the early 2000′s, why was this so much fun to write?, this is purely Hawaii Five-0 crack, Steve acting more like an older brother than he does a cousin, reader wants Danny for herself and Steve can’t stop you, ignore Chin’s one semi cringey comment (no regrets)

Word Count: 1,382

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"There's a fight in town," Steve brings up out of nowhere as you mess with the items on his desk. 

"And?" 

He watches you, wondering why you’re not as enthused as him. "And? I'm asking if my favorite cousin wants to go." 

You glance up at him with furrowed brows. "Steve, I'm you're only cousin." 

He rolls his eyes. "So, you wanna go or not?" 

"I never said no. Let's go." You push yourself out of your chair. 

"It's not for another three hours." 

You spin around to stare at him, holding the back of the chair. "Yeah, I know. You're treating me to dinner before we go." 

"Oh, am I?" 

"You dragged me here for a case, the least you can do is take me to dinner." 

"I like her," Danny smiles, standing in the doorway of Steve's office. 

"Shut up, Danno." 

You take a step away from the chair and smile at your cousin's partner. "Thank you, Daniel." 

"Danny," he corrects you. 

"Daniel sounds better, I'll use Danny for when you're in trouble. Don't cross me." 

He nods and looks away from you. "Don't cross you, got it." 

"Now if you'll excuse us. Steven and I are going to dinner and then go to the fight." 

"Ooh, where you guys going?" 

"Don't know," you shrug. "You wanna come. He's paying." 

Steve stands up, trying to chime in. "He doesn't-" 

"I'd love to. Thank you for inviting me." 

"We have much to talk about." 

"Yes, yes we do." He holds his arm out, gesturing for you to go out first. 

"Thank you." 

"Of course, I'm not an animal." 

"No, you are not. You're more polite than some people." 

Danny smirks as you two walk by Chin and Kono. 

Steve exits his office and mutters to himself. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" 

"Not at all, boss," Kono pats his shoulder. 

"It's going to be an entertaining night for you," Chin adds. 

"I don't like you two right now." 

"That's okay. We still love you, big Kuhuna." 

Steve shakes his head and jogs out of the room, needing to catch up to you two before more bonding happens. 

-

"I'll be back, do either of you want a beer or something?" You ask. 

Steve nods, giving you, his order. 

"No thank you. I'd like to be able to get through story time without any issues." 

You nod. "I'll be back." 

It takes you a few minutes before you make it to the seats. "Oh sorry. Excuse me. Coming through." You managed to get on the opposite side from where the others were and sigh, walking back towards them. 

"Sorry, excuse me." You start walking down the aisle. "Excuse me." 

You're three people away from your crew. 

"I finally made- woah." 

Danny places his hands on your waist, preventing you from bumping into him and him into you. 

You smile at him, "thank you, Daniel." 

"No problem." 

"Steve, your drink." 

Once you get situated, you begin to relax. 

You scream and shout for the wrestler you want to win, which makes Danny raise a brow. Not entirely expecting you to be so into it. 

You enjoy yourself until someone bumps into you, spilling your food. "Hey, jerkwad." 

The guy turns around and shrugs you off. 

"You spill my food; you pay for another." 

"You're the one that was in my way." 

"Are you serious?" 

"Go bug someone else lady." 

"Oh, you-" 

Danny grabs you and pulls you back before you can attack the rude guy as Steve steps forward, taking care of the situation. "Let's not hurt the guy, no matter how rude he was and sit back down." 

"I don't even care that he bumped into me, and I spilled my food. It's the price. I paid for Steve's beer and my small snack which is now on the floor-" 

"I know. How about this, after the match. I take you out to get something to make up for his jerky behavior." 

You spin around in his arms, staring at him for a few seconds. "I think we can arrange that, and I promise I won't keep you for long since you have story time tonight." 

"I appreciate that." 

"Then it's a date." 

"A- a date?" 

You think he doesn't want to go on a date with you, making you rethink your question. "Not a date?" 

"No, no. I never said that." 

"Good, I think we'll have a good time."

-

"Why're you so happy?" Steve asks you as you step inside. 

"No reason. I'm going to bed. Night." 

"No, no. Get back here and tell me why Danny just pulled out of my driveway." 

"I was on a date." 

"You are not allowed to date coworkers." 

"I can date whoever I want. It's not like any of you have ever followed that rule." 

"This is different-" 

"Why? Because I'm your family and you don't want William’s blood to taint the McGarrett bloodline if we ever get that far." 

"Oh, gross!" 

"Grow up, Steven. He's going to be coming around a lot more, whether you like it or not." 

-

Danny texted you saying he's here. 

You walk down the stairs with a pep in your step as you stand in front of the door, fixing your hair (Danny does the same). "Hi, Daniel." 

"How many times am I going to tell you to call me Danny." 

"Every day, if you'd like." 

"Oh, is that right?" He smirks. 

"Come on in. I'm about to make coffee. You want some?" 

"I would, thank you." He barely takes his eyes off you as you close the door. 

“You’re really into the fight, when- uh- when that’d happen?” 

You shrug, “I’ve always been into wrestling.” 

“You reminded me of this one time; I went when I was a teenager, and I took this guy I knew years ago. We sat next to this girl who was basically like you were yesterday and then my friend came back and bumped into her, spilling everything she got all over the lap.” 

“The same thing happened to me. My family and I just moved to this one town and my dad was working while mom was doing her thing in the navy. I was having a bad day and I- wrestling was my only out. I never participated in it but watching it was my escape. Anyway, this dumbass came around and bumped into me. His friend pulled him away before I could, well, do anything.” 

“Oh, really?” He asks with interest. “The girl my friend ran into reached over me and socked him. I think-” 

That reminds you of the scar on your hand. “Yeah, and I ripped my knuckle on his braces.” 

“- She ripped her knuckle on his braces.” 

Your eyes widen. “Holy.” 

“Wow.” 

You clap your hands together. "How about breakfast?" 

"Are you cooking?" 

"Steve's not back from his run yet, so it'll be me cooking." 

"I'll accept." 

You push him away, letting him settle on top of the counter on the side of the stove. "How about you make the coffee and I work on breakfast?" 

"Deal." 

"Do you know how the coffee machine works?" 

"I think I can figure it out." 

"Great, you get started on the coffee and I'll do my thing." 

Steve locks the door behind him and opens his mouth to call out for you, only to hear laughter coming from the kitchen. He rolls his eyes and wanders to the kitchen. "I don't like this." 

"Too bad. He's hot and I like him." 

"Please don't ever say that again." 

"No, please say it again. I'm what?" Danny smiles at you. 

"You're hot and I like you." 

"Thank you. You, yourself look phenomenal." 

"You're such a charmer." 

"I'm going to the office before I need to bleach my eyes." 

"Okay, just hope we don't need to bleach the kitchen." 

Danny's eyes widen and his jaw drops. 

You cover his mouth and quietly shush him. "Go along with it," you whisper. 

"If I smell even a drop of-" 

"Go away, Steve." He shakes his head and walks out of his house, trying to erase any kind of traumatic vision you put in his mind. 

"Did you figure out the coffee machine?" 

"I think I broke it." 

"I'll buy him a new one later."