#and another state

[gyokutoll]

Me at the zoo: I should try and see the chinchilla because it’s what Hotaru would have wanted

[fly-chicken]

A Pragmatic and surprisingly comforting perspective about the Trump 2nd Presidency from the ACLU

***Apologies if this is how you found out the 2024 election results***

Blacked out part is my name.

I’m not going to let this make me give up. It’s disheartening, and today I will wallow, probably tomorrow too

AND

I will continue to do my part in my community to spread the activism and promote change for the world I want to live in. I want to change the world AND help with the dishes.

And I won’t let an orange pit stain be what stops me from trying to be better.

A link to donate to the ACLU if able and inclined. I know I am

[saints-who-never-existed]

“In the war film, a soldier can hold his buddy—as long as his buddy is dying on the battlefield. In the western, Butch Cassidy can wash the Sundance Kid’s naked flesh—as long as it is wounded. In the boxing film, a trainer can rub the well-developed torso and sinewy back of his protege—as long as it is bruised. In the crime film, a mob lieutenant can embrace his boss like a lover—as long as he is riddled with bullets. 

Violence makes the homo-eroticism of many “male” genres invisible; it is a structural mechanism of plausible deniability.”

–Tarantino’s Incarnational Theology: Reservoir Dogs, Crucifixions, and Spectacular Violence. Kent L. Brintnall.

[haveihitanerve]

Dick who only tells Bruce when he's going somewhere

and the Batkids who all panic and don't know where he’s at and refuse to tell Bruce because they lost their big brother and they aren't telling him that no way he’d go crazy

so its just them banding together and scouring the Justice League and Gotham and Bludhaven

and then eventually dragging themselves back to the manor after like a week, defeated

Just to find Dick sitting in Bruce’s study, feet up on the desk, laughing as he tells his Dad about his trip and Bruce is nodding along and smiling

Then they spot the others and are like “hey guys!” and Bruce is like “whats been going on, haven't seen you around much?”

but he wasn't that worried because they still kept up appearances (didn't wanna be suspicious) and Jason is like

“where tf were you for the week?” and dick is like “i was in nevada??? For a case??? Did yall not know this???” and they're all like “noooo????” and dick is like “wtf i told bruce???”

and they're like…. “....Oh… we could've just asked.”

but anyway Dick who tells his dad his whereabouts at all times because its just habit but never bothers to inform his siblings.

[falafels]

pt.67: twinterlude!! <pt.66 pt.68>

andrew is EC canonically the older twin and i wholeheartedly believe he’s smug about it. not openly so to be the one to bring it up but if it does come up he’s going to be a bitch about it. especially if he’s drunk and remembers he’s saved in aaron’s phone as bbron

tags for the homies ❤️ @andrewsleftarmband @blurryhour @you-know-i-get-itt @notexactlythatgirl @longspacerat @tessasilverswan @minyard-05 @carbon-dated-gal @bisexualchaosdemon @stormiiflies @watercoloureyes01 @vampire-overlord @iron-sides @azure-wing @buffalo-fox @ohgodnotagainplease @pink-hydrangea @jaywalkerss @ohmynoggin-blog @cosmic-marauder @min-getoutofmy-yard @plazybones @disastersappho @leestars13 @the-witch-forever-lives @minyardsss @post-historical-posts @andabuttonnose @hidinginmyhands @aftg4l @allfor-thegames @yaoishida @inafieldofstarflowers @snowcoming @mooniism @fieldsofpoppies-in-salt-air @prometheusthedragon @graveyardviolence @bustedleftshoe @beatrix33 @aftg-bs @yes-i-exist-shutup @milktemproom @all-for-exy @moon-over-ruined-castle @meta-breakers @oneandonlystarshine @dragonslayer26806 @malepresentingleg @lesbiansforkevinday

[the-muppet-joker]

Mother has paid handsomely for my new apartment. I am surprised she was willing to cover the security deposit and moving expenses. She almost seems more excited than I am for me to move out!

[finemealprompt]

DP x DC Prompt #16

When Hal had asked him which town he protected, Danny was more than happy to tell him, "Amity Park!" When Hal asked Danny where it was, Danny hadn't thought the response, "At this moment? Or where it was last week?" would've caused such chaos in the meeting.

Danny knew not everyone's town traveled across the country, but he didn't think it was odd enough to warrant this kind of reaction.

[girlwiththegreenhat]

team fortress 2 finally getting rid of the bots after 5 years

work on the team fortress 2 comic continuing after 7+ years

half life 3 development looking more likely than ever with legitimate code, file, and voicework leaks referencing a new non-VR single-player game from valve featuring a HEV suit wearing protagonist and Xen creatures and concepts

shoutout to the valve fan that found the genie lamp. you a real one

[mutedsybille]

"Mom, can we have the Distortion at home?" "We already have the Distortion at home" The Distortion at home:

[popp1n]

GHOSTING THE GOVERNMENT

|masterpost| ao3

Chap 1: A Not-so-Ghostly Getaway.

Pt 1

The diplomas, still crisp and smelling faintly of the school auditorium's mothball-esque stale air, lay forgotten in the storage pocket of the back seat. Outside, the oppressive silence of Amity Park clung to the humid night like a shroud. Under the sliver of a waning moon, three figures moved with struggling efficiency, their hushed whispers swallowed by the darkness, only interrupted by the thump and tumble of packing a small car's trunk full to the brim.

Sam wrestled a lumpy duffel bag into the cramped trunk of Jazz’s beat-up Corolla, its faded paint a familar reflection to the scuffed and chipped state of Amity Park's buildings and roads. Tucker carefully slid a disassembled and altered shortwave radio beneath a pile of old blankets, his knuckles pale as he adhered it to the floor with heavy-duty tape. In the driver's seat, Jazz checked the rearview mirror for the tenth time, her gaze flicking nervously towards the omnipresent, unblinking lenses mounted on nearly every lamppost, but most importantly those fastened to her childhood home.

This morning, Danny and his friends walked across that stage, officially free in the eyes of the State. Tonight, they were taking that freedom for themselves, one clandestine mile and issue at a time.

Sam finally managed to cram their luggage into place and successfully close the trunk without unnecessary noise. She slid into the backseat beside Tucker, who was checking the camera feeds again.

"The loop is still set, and I have my program ready to intercept feeds as we drive," Tucker sighed, lowering his computer screen and minimizing the glow, "All that's left is for Danny to finish and we can get out of here."

It was at that moment that they could hear keys jangling near the FentonWorks's front door. Danny made himself present and quickly hurried over to the open passenger side door.

The Corolla’s suspension groaned as Danny shoved a final ratty backpack crammed with scavenged ghost tech and blueprints onto the back seat, causing Sam to give a small indignant squawk at it landing in her lap before shoving it into place between her and Tucker. He slid into the passenger seat, closed the door, and buckled in a series of swift movements. Danny, ever the pragmatist, double-checked the rearview mirror, while Jazz gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white.

“Okay, everyone set?” Jazz’s voice was a low murmur, barely audible above the thrum of the engine.

Tucker huffed an affirmative, his gaze flicking to the other small, palm-sized device he’d carefully placed on the dashboard. It pulsed with a faint, stolen green light. “Just need to power that baby up once we’re a few miles out.”

Jazz reached over and squeezed Danny's arm. “Danny, are you sure about this? Leaving everything…” Her voice trailed off, the unspoken fear hanging heavy in the air.

“Positive,” Danny said, meeting her gaze. “Staying means… well, you know.” He glanced at Tucker, who offered a tight nod of agreement.

“So, portal us out of here then, speed demon,” Jazz said, a nervous edge to her usual teasing tone. “Last I checked, you could blink us to Gotham City before they even noticed we were gone.”

Danny sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair. “That’s the thing. I can’t.”

Jazz tilted her head to him, eyes on the road and confusion etched on her face. “What do you mean, you can’t?” She asked, her brow furrowed. “Are you… are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Danny insisted. “Physically, anyway. But remember those ‘rural-urban wellness initiatives’ the government rolled out last year? The ones that supposedly monitored for earth quakes and groundwater?”

Jazz's eyes widened. “You think…?”

Tucker nodded grimly. “They weren’t just mapping out tremors and underground streams. They were mapping ectoplasm fluctuations...at least the sensors in town are. Every portal, even natural ones, creates a ripple. A pretty significant one, apparently.” He pointed towards the stolen and modified device on the dash. “This little beauty confirms it. They’ve got localized sensors all over Amity Park, calibrated specifically to detect any paranormal distortions. If Danny tried to portal us out now, it’ll be like setting off a silent alarm directly to GIW headquarters.”

A heavy silence descended upon the car. Jazz’s shoulders slumped slightly. “So, all those times they ‘randomly’ stopped by the house for ‘routine checks’ after you seemed a little… restless…”

Danny’s jaw tightened. “Yeah. They knew something. They’ve been watching. Waiting.” He sighed, "They probably wrote it off so far as interference from the lab portal and whatnot, but that isn't a foolproof defense."

Sam leaned forward in her seat. “This is the only way. Old-fashioned, on the ground, under the radar. Once we’re far enough out, past that massive ghost shield they're building, then maybe… maybe Danny can risk it. But not here. Not now.”

The weight of their words settled in the small car, replacing their initial surge of post-graduation hope with a stark dose of reality. It was a harsh reminder that their lives were nowhere close to normal. This was not a regular carpool to their shared college pick; although, it was no less emotional than the standard fair.

Tucker was excited for opportunities with the biggest technology conglomerate in the world. He and Danny managed to score scholarships along with paid internships with their practical demonstrations. Sam was interested in the gothic architecture and ecology courses that their destination had to offer. Danny was intrigued by the rumored curses around the city. Jazz was looking forward to finishing her psychology degree and potentially working in Arkham.

But home is home, no matter how strained it has become in recent years.

Emotions were complicated, and many a tear were shed by the teens as they pulled out of the neighborhood and headed towards city limits. Jazz offered each of them a blanket and bid them to rest.

Next>

[vyeoh]

(The Washington Post)

For those who don't know, the US Supreme Court just ruled that states are allowed to enforce trans healthcare for minors. Undoubtedly, this will trigger a wave of other states that either hope to pass or have already passed policies to do the same. This is going to kill children, and harm more in long-lasting ways.

So, how can you help?

FUCKING VOTE. I don't care if you don't like Biden, he's not the only one on the ballot. Vote representatives into your city council who will turn our city into a sanctuary city. Vote for governors and state reps who will, even if they don't pass new protections, oppose bans being pushed through. Chsllenge and kick out conservative incumbents who are banking on their races being obscure enough for people to not vote in.

Anyone telling you voting is useless is either lying to you or grossly uninformed and think saying this is the edgy new take that will make them look hip and informed. Yes, the system is broken. But short of burning the whole thing to the ground (which personally I'm not a fan of as I quite enjoy having like. Roads and the FDA) what we can do is to change it for the better, by starting with the local races and working our way up.

[captainkirkk]

Since reading HOTE, I can't stop thinking about an AU where Fire Lords are treated like living gods, worshiped to the point of dehumanisation.

I can't tell what's more compelling: Ozai dying suddenly (under ""mysterious circumstances"") and Zuko being thrust into the role of the living god without his consent just like Fitzroy, OR Zuko walking into that role with his eyes open, knowing just how small his cage will become, but choosing it anyway to save his country and his sister

[chaoticbuggybitchboy]

“If you dont like it, move” how fuckin dare you tell me to abandon my home because fascists. I love my home and I will make it better. I do not want to leave my home. I will not abandon it until it is very blatantly apparent to me that my options are to leave or to be killed and even then I’ll probably stay and do my damn best to fight back anyways. I don’t want to leave my home, this is a place I love full of people I love. Do not ever tell me to ‘simply’ leave it.

[jesuistrestriste]

Cowgirl reader x art when

𐚁 ✮⋆˙ needy!art donaldson x cowgirl NSFW 18+

—

art doesn’t even know why he agreed to go with patrick down south for an impromptu boys trip.

it’s stickier down there; the humidity so high that the air is practically drinkable.

the heat suffocated him and climbed down his throat the second he got off the plane, and patrick had unsurprisingly laughed at him when he developed sweat stains on his tee shirt after only ten minutes in the uber to their hotel. it wasn’t his fault, he just never handled high temperatures well.

he blamed the desert, or whatever hellish fire-breathing beast was desecrating this part of the country with such unimaginable warmth. he could hardly think straight with the way his clothing clung to his heat-prickled skin.

he regretted going on the trip from the moment they touched down at the airport. he wished he had stayed back home, then at least he could get some time on the courts. but no.

and so he ruminated on the idea that he shouldn’t have come.

that is, until he and pat went out to a bar that first night.

patrick had already gotten drunk in the first twenty-five minutes and was feeling up a stranger, staggering with them off into a booth buried at the back of the establishment to get handsy. art’s eyes had rolled so far back that he was sure the earth had almost tipped with them.

he leaned over the busy bar, sipping his underwhelming tequila soda until he felt someone different slip into the space next to him.

a woman.

a pretty—no, sexy one at that.

glossy lips, a loose tee shirt that hung off of one shoulder (pink bra strap on display), dark flare jeans that hugged her in all the right places, brown leather boots, and a cowboy hat.

she couldn’t look more typically southern. but fuck, she was hot.

she turns her head and smiles up at him, her hat tilting up with her neck’s movement to expose more of her face.

“hey,” she hums, her eyes scanning him up and down before he can even speak, “… you’re not from here, are you?”

her voice is warm and silky, like dark chocolate. it floods his brain and immediately dilutes his thoughts into incoherent ramblings.

god, why hasn’t he said anything?

say something, damn it!

“ha..! no, no.. not from here,” art chuckles out nervously after a brief clearing of his throat.

she just smirks. putting her pearly whites on display for everyone to see. or maybe just for him..?

“yeah, i could tell by the way you’re dressed.”

was.. was that an insult?

is he supposed to laugh?

shit, she smells like the most delicious—

the thoughts in his brain are cut off abruptly when he feels her hand on his chest, dragging down.

oh fuck.

“relax, city boy,” she purrs with an intoxicating drawl, her free hand taking the hat off of her own head and placing it on top of his blonde curls, “i didn’t mean to get y’all worked up.. i’ll buy you a drink, hm?”

“i.. uh, i mean— okay, yeah, uhm, sure. i’ll take a drink..”

—

an hour comes and goes, and then art somehow winds up in the back of the girl’s car; parked on the outskirts of the small gravel lot.

it’s a shiny, cherry-red convertible. fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror. a picture of a well-groomed black horse tucked into the driver seat’s personal mirror (which she flipped up once the two of them were taking off their clothes).

patrick was still somewhere in the bar, preoccupied, so art felt less guilty about letting this woman drag him out the backdoor towards her vehicle. all it had taken was one sloppy kiss, and then he was willingly trailing behind her like a sick dog.

art can hardly process that now they’re completely naked; his flushed back sticking to her leather seats as she sinks down on his cock. a shuddering groan is pulled forcefully from his chest, spilling out in the next instant. he feels his balls draw up once, twice, three times in response to the feeling of her tight cunt gripping around him, and he swears he could almost come right then and there. she’s like a fucking goddess.

“can you handle me?” she smirks down to him, starting to rock her hips rhythmically like she’s riding a mechanical bull, “i wanna hear an answer, darlin’…”

“can’t—“

ugh, he’s choking on his words. shaking hands holding her waist with the desperation of a guy who hasn’t gotten laid in over a year. he’s allowed to be a bit pathetic.

“can’t?” she repeats, bouncing now on his slicked-up shaft, her nails running down his tensing abdomen and leaving red stripes in their wake.

he shakes his head, a loud whimper and gasp following suit. his thighs are starting to tremble. toes already started curling thirty seconds ago.

“can’t— can’t last, not gonna last—“

the woman just laughs lowly and rolls her pelvis in slow circles. art’s body vaults up in response, pushing against her weight on top of him as he feels a blurt of precome erupt from his tip and surround him in the condom— daring him to disappoint her and let it all go before he gets the go-ahead.

“ohh… aah— you really aren’t from around here, are you? poor lil’ thing…”

he doesn’t know why that statement from her makes his gut stir with pre-orgasmic convulsions. he’s trying to meet her movements with his own thrusts, but he’s losing stamina fast. every buck of his body into her pussy sends a sharp bolt of pleasure right up his spine. he’s sweating almost as much now as he was when he first arrived. probably moreso, if he’s honest.

and shit, he can’t be anything but honest at this point.

she’s making him forget everything he ever disliked about this part of the country.

she’s making him feel like her pussy could solve all of his problems.

she’s making him feel like… like… like—

“oh, god—!” he hiccups, squeezing into her torso, head tipped back and biceps curling as he tries to tug her down closer, “i’m sorry, i can’t hold it— i’m gonna come, can’t— can’t stop-!”

she giggles, and then there’s the voice again. warm, smooth, low. dripping right into the crook of his neck.

“alright, city boy,” she whispers, “come then.”

and that’s all it takes.

art’s eyes squeeze shut, his jaw slacks, and he lets out the most desperate strangled cry as he feels the scorching waves of pleasure consume him from all sides. he feels his cock kick against her palpating walls, pulses of his sticky white release webbing on the inside of the latex.

he’s practically vibrating by the time the aftershocks roll around, his baby blues looking up dazedly to the smiling woman still connected to him. her hands cup his flushed cheeks, her thumbs wiping beaded sweat from his temples and his forehead.

“there ya go… thaaat’s it, darlin’… let it all out…”

art sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and whimpers as he feels his dick stir inside of her, threatening to shoot again just from her words.

“haah… ha-aahngh… hnngh,” he quakes, gasping for air and trying to calm himself down, “h-how did… ngh— how did y-you do that t-to me..?”

trying not to sound so utterly wrecked is easier said than done, he’s realizing that now. he really can’t prevent it- he’s nothing more than a limp mess underneath her perfect form.

he winces and hisses softly with sensitivity when she torturously rocks just once more over his spent parts.

“oh, honey,” she laughs, “we just do it different down here.”

… god, he loves the south.

[holleringfromyourrooftops]

Just finished House md and I am NOT okay

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bonus 12: Beware the Grapes of Wrath.

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