#Imagination and Courage for Kids

[fairytaletime7]

Luna's Journey Through Dreamland

Luna, a curious girl 🌟, enters Dreamland, a magical realm ✨ where her imagination comes to life 🎨. As she explores vibrant landscapes 🌈, she encounters the ominous Forest of Fears 🌲😨, where her deepest anxieties reside. Guided by a clever fox 🦊 named Spark, Luna learns to confront her fears and reshape them into something manageable 💪. Ultimately, she discovers her inner strength 💖 and the power of her imagination 🧠, emerging braver and more confident 🌟😊.

[witchspeka]

I love my girl Miwa but as soon as I read that this image immediately popped up in my head:

[bluesbonney]

tent, billy, bed. a true recipe for disaster (and horny)

mdni

Thin canvas walls are all that separate you and Billy from the rest of the Regulators.

Down the little sloping hill, just barely over the crackling of the fire, you can hear Charlie and George conversing over their midnight cup of coffee. They're on watch for now. In three hours, it will be your turn.

Though the sun has long since set, the night is still so hot. Sleep has evaded you, as well as the knowledge that you have to get up soon. Which is how you've found yourself in Billy's lap, wearing only your underwear, kissing him senseless and grinding on his thigh.

He couldn't sleep either, too wound up with nerves. The second you came back from taking a swim in the lake, just one look at him had been enough to let you know what needed to happen.

He'd given you that pleading look as you tied the tent entrance shut against the random winds that pop up during the night. His eyes held yours as you walked closer, setting your hands on his chest, never once breaking away as you pushed him down onto the cot with a soft: "Lean back."

The humidity has made his curls wild, with some help from his hands.

And yours, now that you're in his lap.

"Missed you today." Billy drags one hand through your damp hair and pulls just ever so softly. His mouth finds your neck and moves slowly against your skin, tasting the salt of your sweat and the slight soap lingering from your swim. His hands glide over your back and then come to rest just under your breasts.

"I've been at the campsite all day, Billy." You slow your hips on his thigh, just enough so you can focus on what you're saying and also to drag out this moment. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

The oil lamp is getting dimmer by the second. Fuel for them ran out last week. They're not a necessity; they just make the darkness easier to bear. You and Billy have had your deepest conversations with their dim light as company.

Billy shifts you on his lap and nuzzles his nose against the dip between your collarbones. He presses his mouth there so he can feel your heartbeat against his lips. "Yeah, but I haven't gotten to talk to you. Or look at you."

"I'm sure you've looked at me once." You say, voice a little shaky as he continues kissing the hollow of your throat.

"Hmm, not up close like this." He drags his nose up your neck before tilting his head back to study you. His eyes move slowly around your face. "That's better, my pretty angel." He swallows, hard, and you find yourself enthralled by the movement of his throat. So you lean down and press your lips there, paying him the same attention as he had you.

You're moving your hips so slow, but he moves his leg a little and it draws a soft moan out. You've wanted him close like this for days.

He's right about that the lack of closeness during the daytime. For most of today, after scouting this morning, he's had his attention on maps and strategy. The longest conversation you had was about what the hell to make for lunch when you got back from your own scouting mission.

Right now, in this stupidly flimsy tent, Billy can let the weight of leadership slip from his shoulders. Now, he can just be yours.

It's not like he's neglected you these past few weeks. It's just that things are so tense that finding time to just be feels nearly impossible. But Billy's shown that he's thinking about you through his actions: cleaning your gun for you while you're asleep, asking for your opinion about each strategic move he makes, giving you the first cup of coffee in the morning and making sure it's you riding next to him before and after raids.

"Haven't gotten to touch you either." His hands slide to your hips and tug. "Keep movin', I know you want to." In tune and in sync, that's what you two are. He wants you to let go and give in to this need.

The rough tone of his voice shot straight to your lower belly, and that warmth starts to rekindle itself as you rock down against his thigh.

"That's it, angel. Love you like this...you look so pretty." Billy kisses the corner of your mouth. Speaks against your skin. Slides one hand to your lower back to support you, urging you to move your hips faster. "Does it feel good?"

A sigh leaves you as you nod because it just feels so good, not just physically, but mentally too. Being close like this just feels safe. Because you're both here, safe in the darkness, with your hearts beating against each other.

The lantern dims further as you slide your hand down his chest, smiling at how all his buttons are undone but his shirt is still on. His suspenders still attached to his pants but lay limply on the threadbare brown blanket. His hat lays by his pillow; he must've lay down on the cot fully clothed until you got here. Gun belt on the ground on his side, within reach.

Sliding the dusty and sweaty shirt from his shoulders, you murmur against his mouth: "You're wearing too many clothes."

Billy smiles. "Shoulda just gone swimmin' with you."

"Maybe tomorrow night." You untuck the shirt from the waistband of his pants and then fiddle with the button. He wants you so bad, you can see it. Feel it.

"Maybe." He echoes.

[frogaroundandfindout]

Jason shuffles around Gotham for 12.5 miles mumbling about Bruce. He’s soon found and checked into a hospital where he falls into a coma. They try to run his fingerprints, but as a result of being Robin they aren’t on record anywhere. (Batman Annual #25)

[aquateenpatrolsomethingshowshow]

i fucking love this image sm

AND EUSTACE IN THE BACK IS FUCKING SENDING ME 💀💀💀

[abnormalpsychology]

thrilling sequel to my poll from back in January

[areyouwho-ithinkyouare]

u guys i finished this playthrough this morning and i’m already missing them

[lynxgirlpaws]

[sensitivegoblin]

Vent bevause my life sucks ass and The Purge isnt real

[incomprehensi-bull]

finally got around to playing professor layton and the last specter. [visibly haggard and harried] i really like these games

[items-worth-buying]

Captain Fox and the Pirate Treasure Story

In a far-off land, where the sea meets the sky, a brave and daring crew set sail on their trusty ship, the "Moonlit Maiden." Captain Fox, with her bushy orange tail and twinkling brown eyes, stood at the helm, scanning the horizon for any sign of danger. By her side stood her loyal friend, Barnaby the Badger, his grey and white stripes glistening in the sunlight. "Steady, me hearties!" Captain Fox cried, her voice full of excitement. "We're closing in on the treasure's supposed location!" Barnaby grinned, his bright green eyes shining with anticipation.

Buy now with only 1 dollar

[prlssprfctn]

Somewhere in the year after Jason becomes a part of Bruce's family, a strange book appears on the desk of Bruce's personal study room. A book about parenting traumatised kids. He opens it, leafs though a little, noticing certain phrases underlined, and closes it back. Alfred probably left it. Just a few days ago, they had a short argument regarding his parenting methods, and he seemingly tried to prove his point by additional literature. Bruce is going to read it later.

...He doesn't have time, actually, and eventually, the book stays forgotten, tucked between many others.

Years pass. Jason dies. And then comes back, complicated and different, frustrating and hard to crack. Thinking about Jason — a habit, always a habit — becomes some kind of roulette: he either remembers something nice, comes up with some courage to talk with his son, at least through comms, at least not directly, or the exact opposite thing happens, sending them both out of balance.

It is the middle of cleaning day, when Alfred suddenly picks up the exact same book about children victims and how to take care of them, and to Bruce's surprise asks where does this book come from.

'What do you mean?' Bruce frowns. 'You gave it to me when I just adopted Jason. Well, not gave, I would say tactically sneaked in, but...'

'I would remember that,' Alfred frowns. He goes through a few pages, and his face softens. 'It wasn't me, master Bruce.'

And suddenly, it clicks.

*Jason* left it. He underlined lines that probably felt relatable to him, that maybe could help them both in their new, hard journey. A shy kid he was, though, very smart, he would never actually speak with Bruce directly — he would try to leave him hints. To open up more in a subtle way.

To—

Oh.

Bruce suddenly can imagine his little son overhearing his late argument with Alfred that day, all these years ago. Mulling over, "this kid is deeply traumatised, master Bruce" and "well, I can't get inside his head, Al" lines. Figuring out how to easen his burden. How to be understood and yet accepted.

And Bruce... unknowingly discarded that.

As usual.

Unknowingly, cluelessly, and yet so simply — he discarded everything that was dear to Jason, everything that meant something for him.

As he grips the book in his hands, caressing the soft cover, he can't help but wonder if any of the information inside, little highlights Jason did, are still working for him. If he still can fix it.

[fanofreading]

The Fearless Kitten Knight - A Bedtime Story

In a faraway land of winged horses and brave knights, there lived a tiny kitten with a heart full of dreams and a spirit for adventure. Despite her small size, she aspired to become a fearsome knight. This enchanting bedtime story follows her courageous journey as she proves that even the smallest creatures can achieve great things. The Fearless Kitten Knight In a faraway land of winged horses…

[thehandwixard]

also ftr i dont think king mickey as a character needs to be like. hes not a bad guy he doesnt need an atonement arc i think despite his closest friends branching off from the castle i dont want to make that like... a punishment. maybe its less minnie divorcing him and more them taking a break while everyone from the castle and toontown goes around and finds their own place.

like. king mickey is questionable and has made some bad choices but he is also still mickey. i would really like to do a plot where oswald comes up

[lokigodofaces]

May I suggest a third potential?

The formally brainwashed party specifically breaks rules/laws. Even things they don't really want to do. Could be wearing atrocious color combinations. Could be being needlessly rude to someone. Could be speeding. Running red lights. Stealing random crap. Breaking random crap. Getting into fights.

From this you get two options for the motive: are they refusing to follow rules again and trying to prove to themselves and others that they're free? Or are they desperate for order and for someone to control them that they start breaking rules and laws to try to get someone to tell them what to do/arrest them?

I think characters who have been brainwashed should have absolutely bat shit insane trauma responses about it. Because you can do so much with it, y'know? It's so versatile.

On one extreme end of the brainwashing trauma response spectrum, you have someone who has the worst impulse control you've ever seen, like this person is prone to spontaneous behavior like no one has ever been before. They would drive into oncoming traffic just to prove that they're in control of themselves.

On the complete opposite extreme end, you have someone who needs to micromanaged, down to the minute details. It doesn't matter that they're in control of themselves again, they need someone telling them what to do, borderline at all times. They can't function without it. You could think the word jump and this person would already be in the air.

Please is anyone picking up what I'm putting down. There's potential here I think. Like. In general.

[anonbinaryweirdo]

thing is

it doesn't bother me when I hear someone my age talking about ME (in a bad way) if anything it's hilarious.. I'm not about to let a little kid bother me 😭 keep trying tho it's cute