sharkdadontumbl

[sharkdadontumbl]

i have uh thoughts about him

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YES YES THANK U GOD THANK U JESUS I WAS HOPING SOME1 ELSE SHIPPED SAM & TERRIFIC LETSGOOOO!!!!!

I got these sillies going on my twitter lol

Part 2 (which will remain unfinished)

[sharkdadontumbl]

if u see me liking TerrificGreen/SuperTerrific fanart like it's gametime....mind ur business....

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guys i think he missed Sam a lil' ...

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Alhamdulillah 🕌 ✩‧₊˚✦ Store in pinned post

[sharkdadontumbl]

😢 A 9-Months Pregnant Mother… Sleeping in the Street with Her Hungry, Homeless Children 💔

My name is Najla, a mother from Gaza. I have three children ، the oldest is 5 years old, and the youngest is just 2. My husband suffers from a nervous condition. We used to live in a modest home… until everything collapsed in an instant.

On January 23, 2024, our house was bombed with shells and bullets. We fled with nothing… no food, no belongings, no shelter ..only pain and fear.

My children got sick from the freezing cold, and later, the tent that once sheltered us was also bombed. Their health deteriorated, and they began crying every night without end 💔

Now, we sleep outdoors, surrounded by insects, snakes, and mosquitoes. We’ve been displaced many times, paying high transportation costs, while food prices are unbearable ، a single bag of flour now costs $500 😞

My children don’t understand war… but they know hunger. They feel it in their empty stomachs every night.

My youngest was injured in the foot, and we barely found treatment. My husband still needs neurological medication, but it’s no longer available ، and we’re desperately searching for alternatives 💔

The hardest part… is that I’m now 9 months pregnant. The doctor shocked me ، my blood level is dangerously low (just 8), and my unborn baby is severely malnourished.

He appears to be 8 months old, not 9, due to my own lack of nutrition. The doctor said I need an ultrasound and a healthy diet full of fruits — but just one proper meal costs about $100 per day 😢 and I have nothing…

I light a fire every day to make something ، anything ، for my children to eat. And I cry in silence. My legs are swollen from salt retention, my blood pressure is rising, and my children try to help me… because they see their mother breaking down, crying beside the fire 😭

Now, all three of my children show signs of malnutrition… and I cry alone, not knowing what else to do.

My children cry in pain ، their stomachs are empty, their hearts are terrified.

🌹 Please, don’t look away… Be the miracle we so desperately need.

🕊️ Your donation - no matter how small - could be the difference between hunger and survival, between suffering and safety.

Your support today could save an entire family from collapsing. It could save a child… and an unborn baby waiting to live in the middle of destruction.

🙏 Donate to a humble family… with nothing left, but hope.

[sharkdadontumbl]

"no matter how you slice it, at our core, we're meant to be"

[sharkdadontumbl]

CONTENT ⚠️ WARNING

* graphic depictions of domestic violence involving children * use of derogatory language, including a slur accurate to the time period (1970) [read at your own discretion]

If there's one thing that put Clint above most fighters was that he knew how to take a hit—the first and last good thing his family ever taught him.

The first black-eye he ever got was when he was five.

Standing infront of the TV, watching baseball highlights, too enamoured with the accurate pitch to hear his dad coming back downstairs. By the time he smelled the deep, rich booze wafting off his dad—he'd missed his first warning and felt the sharp jab of a fist against his eye.

"Dammit I said move!" His dad yelled, and before he could take in the shock, his mom was dragging him by the arm into the kitchen.

"How many times do I gotta tell you, don't dawdle infront of the TV! Your dad works hard and you just...stand there like scarecrow!" She scolded. "Go play outside for pete-sake!"

And he was curtly shoved out the back door into the humid backyard.

The pain...was like a sizzling, hot iron on his skin; eye swelling purple and red till it cooled to a dark blue.

Clint had cried on the porch steps till his brother, Barney, came out to get him for dinner. A pack of frozen peas in his hand.

"Here, hold 'em up like this." He said, pressing the plastic against the lid of Clint's eye. "And dodge next time-or hell, fight back. Otherwise he's gonna hit ya to a pulp."

Clint just looked up at him, naively expectant, he'd seen kids get hugged when they scraped their knee on TV but Barney took his hand and put it to the pack of frozen peas, pressing down hard.

"You're lucky there's someone teaching you this." He said, standing up. "Come on back inside when the swelling's down."

Then he was gone.

Alone on the porch, Clint understood what his life expected of him and the blood and bruising became second nature.

The first time Clint hit his dad, he felt breathless. A sudden weight to the room as he spun back to look at his mom with pride only to be dispelled by her look of mortified silence. He was eight.

"Baby, he didn't, he didn't mean that. He was just scared—" She began, taking a step toward her husband who was keened over. Hand to his stomach.

"That boy is dead, Edie." His dad wheezed, raising his head to look at Clint. The same look he had given his wife before he had slammed her head against the fridge; a snarled, wide-eyed rage.

Clint's mom turned to him, sharp and angered. "Out!"

"But, ma', he was—"

"I said out, Clint!" She yelled.

Clint was confused as he stumbled out of the house toward the patch of woods near the property, tucking himself in the undergrowth near a riverbank till it was dark and his brother came out looking for him. A swollen, torn lip and black-eye on him.

"Quit hiding. Dinner's ready."

Clint crawled out, sniffling. "I wasn't hiding."

"And you were crying like a pansy, too. C'mon." Barney turned to leave.

"I wasn't crying!" He croaked, wiping his sleeve along his nose. "I just...I never seen ma' that angry before...she's always yelling at me and leaving dad be. I don't get it."

Barney turned back to him, marching up and smacking him upside the head.

"Cause you're a fucking retard, Clint! I said 'fight back' not 'hit and run'! D'you know what he put ma' through causa your ass?! That's why she's always yelling!"

"I was tryna protect her!"

Barney slapped him, hard enough he hit the mushy grass and before he could look up, he tasted a boot across his mouth. Barney was ontop of him now, fist raining down on his head.

"Barney, stop—please! I'm sorry!" He cried. "I'm sorry—"

"Fight me!"

"I don't wanna—"

"I said fight!"

Another hit sent his head spinning, blood filling his mouth.

"You're gonna be a helpless piece'a shit y'know that?!" Barney pressed his face into the dirt. "A worthless fucking baby if you don't stand up and fight me!"

"Stop!" Clint swung his elbow into his brother's jaw and as he rolled off, he scrambled ontop of him—cracking a fist against his nose. Again and again till his hand was wet with blood and he was crying.

"I said 'I dont wanna fight'!" He wailed, raising his fist again.

Barney caught it this time, looking up at his little brother through a patch-work of blood.

"That's how you're gonna protect ma'." He panted. "Ya don't stop hitting till he stops."

That was the last time Clint ever fought his brother.

[sharkdadontumbl]

This was rushed help-

[sharkdadontumbl]

In just one moment, we lost the one who was our safety, our home, and our shelter. We didn’t just lose a person — we lost the heart that carried us through this harsh world.

The pain you see in this image is not far from us; it’s the pain we live with every single day. Their absence left us with an unbearable emptiness and responsibilities far greater than what our small hearts and hands can carry.

Today, we need you. We need those who still believe in humanity to extend a hand of kindness, so we can survive this tragedy with dignity. We need your support to keep going, to find food, to heal our wounds, and to protect what remains of our fragile lives.

Your donation is more than just money — it’s a message of hope, mercy, and humanity to those who have already lost everything.

💔 Please help us, in any way you can — with your donations, your prayers, or simply by sharing our story.

[sharkdadontumbl]

Sam used to picture himself huddled under Big Bird when his parents stood out in the patio and argued about the old fishing dock—if it was time to give it up.

It was passed down from a grand-dad he never knew; and it was all his mom had of her dad.

"You want me to let his name die? When that's all this town has left of itself?!"

"Darlene, please. The neighbourhood's only getting more expensive..."

Some shiny realtors had rolled in five years back, buying out old mom-n-pop stores, turning them brand-named. Then came the new neighbours, their prestine fences and lawns, and then Sam's friends moved out of town altogether.

He didn't understand any of this at the time. He was six.

Sometimes his mom would yell till she cried but his dad never yelled. Not even once. He would hush apologies to his mom, calm her down, and when she'd walk back in, he'd quietly sob to himself.

Sam never mentioned knowing any of this at the time.

"I can always count on my lil' man, huh?" His dad said.

"It's a wonder we're blessed with you, baby." His mom said.

So he put on his pajamas, brushed his teeth and watched Sesame Street till they asked him to go to bed. He didn't complain or ask why they worked so much or so late.

He never asked for new toys.

He just pictured himself huddled under Big Bird.

[sharkdadontumbl]

are you man enough?

are you Man enough?

are You man enough?

to take the blame for this?

otherwise known as all the things Steve left Sam with along with the shield hehe....I wanted to mimic those like propaganda posters lol

[sharkdadontumbl]

Sam used to picture himself huddled under Big Bird when his parents stood out in the patio and argued about the old fishing dock—if it was time to give it up.

It was passed down from a grand-dad he never knew; and it was all his mom had of her dad.

"You want me to let his name die? When that's all this town has left of itself?!"

"Darlene, please. The neighbourhood's only getting more expensive..."

Some shiny realtors had rolled in five years back, buying out old mom-n-pop stores, turning them brand-named. Then came the new neighbours, their prestine fences and lawns, and then Sam's friends moved out of town altogether.

He didn't understand any of this at the time. He was six.

Sometimes his mom would yell till she cried but his dad never yelled. Not even once. He would hush apologies to his mom, calm her down, and when she'd walk back in, he'd quietly sob to himself.

Sam never mentioned knowing any of this at the time.

"I can always count on my lil' man, huh?" His dad said.

"It's a wonder we're blessed with you, baby." His mom said.

So he put on his pajamas, brushed his teeth and watched Sesame Street till they asked him to go to bed. He didn't complain or ask why they worked so much or so late.

He never asked for new toys.

He just pictured himself huddled under Big Bird.

[sharkdadontumbl]

he is infact 1 of those fuckers

[sharkdadontumbl]

So Anti-Climactic

have a comic i didn have the time nor hrt to finish—sometimes coming out is anti-climactic

[sharkdadontumbl]

you rlly oughta see the other guy

[sharkdadontumbl]

a Clint Farton for ur troubles