#everywhere we go

[balletthebestphotographs]

Isabella LaFreniere

Isabella LaFreniere, “Everywhere We Go”, music by Sufjan Stevens, choreo by Justin Peck, costume by Janie Taylor. As part of the program “All Peck” (“In Creases”, “Solo”, “Partita” and “Everywhere We Go”), New York City Ballet, David H. Koch Theater, Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts, New York City, USA.

Source and more info at: New York City Ballet Website New York City Ballet on TikTok New York City Ballet on Twitter New York City Ballet on You Tube New York City Ballet on Facebook New York City Ballet on Instagram

Photographer Erin Baiano Website Photographer Erin Baiano on Tumblr Photographer Erin Baiano on Instagram

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Note II: Original quality of photographs might be affected by compression algorithm of the website where they are hosted.

[twinbrujahs]

[house-of-1000-corpses]

errywhere we go

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Dog Meshi.

[zorangezest]

more of this miserable thing I made, somehow it became A Whole Au… no it does not get any better for them LMAOOOAOAOOA

it’s a father/son descent into madness! im calling it DON’T DO THIS, DAD and it’s mainly about frenzy and soundwave’s extremely ill-omened endeavours to bring rumble back to life. yes rumble is very much around and actively haunting them. no he doesn't consent to this

start

next

[layzeal]

ok I'm curious so put in the tags what country you are from and whether or not you own/use a rice cooker

[voiider]

Okay alright I'm tired of giving more children to Bruce Wayne I think we need to start taking some away 

Tim getting kidnapped (but in a way they don't announce Tim Drake-Wayne as missing??) and is given Something that induces amnesia but he escapes or maybe just literally wanders away but like he's in the middle of Ohio and he's walking down the road unsure of his own name or where he is and a weird looking camper pills over and a large man leans out the window and says “you doing alright there, sonny?” 

And he doesn't really know so he sorta shrugs so they pick him up and the man introduces himself as Jack and this is his wife Maddie and their two kids Danny and Jazz and they're just heading back from a camping trip and they can take him into town (Amity?) and take him down to the station and help him get things figured out 

The police take his picture and upload it to a “found” database or smth but there's no active or recent cases in Ohio for missing persons (or teenagers) matching his description 

(But also, Amity is pretty disconnected from the rest of the world digitally. They mind their business. Sure they run this boy's face in the newspaper and let the neighboring precincts about him but there's not much more they can do until this kid gets some memories back)

So he goes to stay with Jack and Maddie (idk how i don’t care about LAWS) while they wait to see if they get any hits or until he gets some memories back and they register him under Alvin (“hmm maybe... Tom? No, definitely not. Caroline? Alvin? That sounds the best I guess”) Fenton at the local high school so he can keep getting an education (and Alvin isn’t sure why, but this sort of feels like a waste of time, he already knows all this math stuff and why would he want to read Of Mice and Men he’s pretty sure someone told him John Steinbeck was a hack. Or maybe not. He can’t remember) but it’s simple enough and he likes the Fentons even if they keep trying to convince him ghosts are real 

And maybe they are. Actually. Real that is. He saw one the other day and had to double check if knowing ghosts were real is a common knowledge thing that he forgot of if he never knew in the first place. Jazz tells him that ghosts are pretty much an Amity specific thing but that they appear other places and then Jack and Maddie set him down and give him the entire history of ghosts that night and then show him their lab which is pretty cool

And maybe he accidentally suplexed someone who startled him in the halls on his first day and also fell asleep in science,but give him a break! he’s going through a lot right now

But his new brother roommate friend? Is helping him adjust at school by telling him who to avoid and what not to eat from the cafeteria and Jazz is in most of his classes but also he’s not sure why they’re trying to act all sneaky about this Inviso-Bill/vigilante situation because like. That’s clearly just Danny with white hair? He looks the exact same? Also he literally saw Danny walk through the bathroom door last week if it wasn’t obvious enough.

So Tim really isn’t expecting Danny to be surprised that he picked up a thermos that Phantom dropped when he and his friends ran off to fight another ghost

[ew-selfish-art]

DPx DC AU: Danny learns that he can change his summoning ritual and decides to go chaos mode with it i.e. A viral tiktok trend.

Danny ascends the throne and it's honestly pretty alright as far as new jobs go. He states a few opinions, makes sure no one goes to war and is slowly integrating a community service sentence to Walker's prison. It's not a bad gig, and considering the troves of gold he's now owner of, it doesn't pay too shabby either.

His main problem with the job isn't even his constituents (he likes to think they would vote for him over pariah), it's all these loony death cults! They keep summoning him with Pariah's old cold sign and it's driving him insane- After a very unhelpful smirk by CW, a long study session in GW's library and some help from Ember (she knows drama like no one else) Danny finally has a new summoning ritual.

Of course he swapped out the blood and bone for like, sour gummies and random shit he had in his backpack at the time. A TI-84. And yes, the Latin chant is that one super-fast bit of Rap God preformed to a BTS dance at speed.

But rather than keep this to himself, he gets Sam (who has a thriving plant and protest community following) to record her completing this ritual and Danny being summoned. Why? Cause it was a very specific to Sam skill that they didn't know if people could replicate and it gives Danny some plausible deniability that he tried to make it difficult when CW asks.

Posting it makes it very quickly go viral as people attempt to call it fraudulent but sure enough, Danny is now traveling the world at a moments notice.

Which is great cause it's summer and he's bored in Amity anyway (He's going to change it before he starts university in September, duh), and its even better because the second a lame ass death cult brings him forward to, like, destroy the planet, a slumber party or influencer has already summoned him away. Shit, he even met a few celebrities this way! Plus, turns out that most death cultists aren't able to rap!

Reality hit him pretty hard when he got summoned to an office space that is clearly a base of operations and the summoning spell locked him in. Literally, he has no idea how to get out of this binding spell- Danny definitely hadn't realized that was an option. Taking in the Justice League members in front of him, plus one trench coated menace, Danny groaned for a moment before thinking to ask:

"Wait- Which one of you was able to do Rap God? And the dance? Please tell me someone thought to film that!!"

[gingerswagfreckles]

Probably the only thing giving me any hope at this point is that every few days some random gentile posts in the Jewish subreddit something along the lines of "I think I'm going insane am I going insane what's going on why is every single comment on my social media feed straight up Nazism why does nothing get taken down when I report it why is my niece simping for a terrorist organization what's happening are you guys seeing this shit." And the answer is always yes ofc we have been seeing this shit for a while. But it's always nice to get some confirmation that someone else is seeing it too.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

Inquisition: I spend three hours in the Hinterlands fighting bears for their leather to make new armor and weapons for my companions while tracking down every landmark for the Saga of Tyrdda Bright-Axe, Avvar-Mother. My party is Blackwall, Vivienne, and Cole. I'm exhausted. I think to myself, "I miss my man." With one last bear, I finally have enough materials.

I go back to Skyhold, but the armor/weapons and the war table missions can wait. I rush into Cullen's office. I press him for updates, and he asks me if he should be worried about the cake Sera gave him [he should], and I tell him he needs to take a break.

I take in the view as I wait for him. He arrives, and in front of all the Inquisition scouts, soldiers, and the Maker Himself, we kiss. I am content, I am satisfied. Can't wait to do it again.

Veilguard: I spend what feels like three hours fighting that damn forgotten one dragon in Necropolis that I'm clearly under-leveled for but keep trying to kill out of spite. Taash and Emmrich are in my party. I'm exhausted. I think to myself, "I miss my man." We finally kill the dragon, and as we leave, Taash and Emmrich bicker about something that I'm tuning out.

I go back to the Lighthouse. Companions have quests for me, but they can wait. I rush up the stairs and break into a sprint as I burst through the doors, dart across the courtyard to the dining hall. I find Lucanis in his pantry. He's sitting on his bed with a cup of coffee in hand.

As I approach, he lifts his head to look deeply into my eyes, and he says to me:

"I think we're getting low on onions again."

Tears well up as I realize there's no affection to be had. I leave the pantry, leave the dining hall, and go hug Assan for the 2547th time.

I didn't think it was possible to feel so touch-starved while playing a dragon age game, and yet, here I am.

[risibledeer]

This happened I can attest because I’m psychic actually 👍 lol

[egophiliac]

have you been keeping up with gozyuger? it's just... truly wild to watch

OKAY I'm finally caught up! and...wild is an understatement, huh! getting some real Donbros energy off of this one (in the best of ways though really) (just all kinds of super weird and super fun! 💍) (...also the blue ranger might have murdered a child?) (I mean probably not) (they wouldn't. but.) (what if)

I'm especially fond of Bouquet and Fire Candle, just because they encapsulate the two modes of my brain at any given moment

[irachki]

cuetes

pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x latina!reader warnings: canon compliant violence. no beta so whatev a/n: i wrote this for @hahaifolded after we were talking about the lack of good latino representation in the fandom. hope you like it folded 🥺💕

There is something to be said about how easily Simon Riley can be bribed. Off the field, of course. He’d never put his team at risk on the field.

But with his third tamal in hand and the half drunk jarrito next to his elbow, Rudy can see how little it takes to sway him. He doesn’t get to sit with the realization too long before another body steps into the doorway.

“Who brought the ghost?” You lean your shoulder against the doorframe as you survey the stranger that’s sat in the midst of all your family members.

Rudy snorts, the unintentional pun missed on your part, while he shrugs. “You know me, always catching strays.”

Your gaze shoots over to Rudy and you raise an eyebrow, “Stray?” The incredulous tone of your voice is amplified by the once over you give Simon. “Aren’t strays supposed to be scrawny? Hanging on by a thread, pure skin and bone? He seems to be real well fed.”

Rudy shakes his head, laughter carries in his voice, “Well SAS does a pretty good job of keeping their boys working at full throttle.”

You shift, slightly, but enough for your uncle to see the way your body loses some of it’s ease.

“SAS? What are the brits doing on Mexican soil? They never venture this deep into latam.”

He grimaces, one of his hands sliding out of his pocket to rub across the face, “You know I can’t tell you that Mechas.”

You roll your eyes before turning from the party and trudging further into the orange colored kitchen, “And when the hell has that stopped you from telling me about what’s happening.”

“It’s different this time mija. We’re dealing with unprecedented  circumstances.”

“Unprecedented?” Your hands grip the edge of the ceramic tile, white and blue cover the kitchen island that separate you and your uncle, “You had no problem telling me about the routes the mareros setup but you have a problem with this?”

“Mechas.”

Whatever Rudy is looking to say next is left unsaid as the pale stranger ducks into your grandmother’s kitchen. Despite the doorframe being a bit too small for him he has no problem standing at full height in the room. The home fitted with raised ceilings to allow for hotter air to rise and helping with the circulation of air during the heat waves.

He looks out of place in the room. In this whole ordeal, really. Family had travelled from all corners of the continent to gather at the matriarchal home, bringing with them the different flavors of Spanish. It made the English speakers scarce, and those who were there were easier to spot, especially with an accent that’s not heard around Las Almas often.

Your eyes narrow, eyebrows drawing together, “What are you doing here?”

Simon’s eyes meet Rudy’s before they’re on you again, “Eating.”

If it’s an attempt at a joke it falls flat, annoying you further.

“If this is what the SAS considers their best I worry for the state of that island.” You scoff and turn around towards the pot holding the warm atole.

You focus on pouring yourself a cup of the warm liquid, missing the look exchanged between the two men. The creases around Rudy’s eyes deepen as his worrisome gaze settles on you.

Simon can’t help the clench he feels in his gut at the sight. He’s thankful there’s no one to worry for him the way you worry for your uncle. He wonders for a split second if Rudy can feel the weight of your worries on the field. A constant weight and anchor pulling him back to this house. To his family.

“Does Yaya know?”

“She doesn’t need to know my every move Mechas.”

Your back is still turned to him but he can still see you shaking your head, “Foreigners mean trouble. Yaya knows that better than anyone. So either you told her outright or you let her connect the dots himself by bringing him here.”

You turn, not bothering to look at either of them as you cross the kitchen in search of a spoon. Simon follows your movements across the kitchen, keeping Rudy in his peripheral as he observes the tightness in your shoulders.

“Mechas,” Rudy starts but he doesn’t get far before your glare cuts him off.

“Stop.” You place your cup down on the island with force. The liquid sloshes around the cup, circling the edge of the cup as if deciding if it wishes to spill. In the end it doesn’t, settling into itself again as the energy disperses.

“Don’t give me some bullshit promise you’re not even sure you can keep. Don’t tell me you’re coming back if there’s even a possibility you won’t.”

Simon’s been in Las Almas for a short amount of time, but he knows Rudy. Trusts this man with his life, he’s saved it a few times already. So it’s easy to follow the minuscule reactions of hurt at your words. He knows empty promises are one of the only things that keeps a soldier going. The belief that they’ll be able to make good on those promises.

No matter how many times others aren’t able to.

“I’ll bring him back.” The words slip out before he understands what he’s telling you. An idiotic thing to promise someone who he just now met.

You’re thinking much of the same if the way you glare at him is anything to go by.

“And who are you to promise anything to me?” The softness of your face is deceptive to the bite of your tongue. Simon has heard worse from men bigger than him, meaner, and yet your words slice at him the way a blade slices at skin. Quick, deep.

There’s molasses dripping down his throat, choking him, his words stick to it.

You scoff, “Your words are no good to me.”

Rudy leaves him no room to respond, stepping in and attempting to mitigate your concern. None of the words Rudy says tamp the fury in your eyes or the strange tight sensation Simon feels between his ribs.

Bringing Rudy back to you seems like the only solution for both.

—

The stranger brings Rudy back. Bruised, battered, and bloodied but alive. And in the end that’s all that matters.

There’s no words spoken between the three of you, a heavy silence fills the kitchen as you get to work on cleaning up your uncle. You pull rags from cabinets and fill shallow pails with cool water to tend to wounds. It’s a silent endeavor, only the straining of the rags filling the room with sound. You don’t know how long you tend to your uncle for, but by the time you turn to face his strange companion his water is murky too.

Rudy must have told him the rules of Yaya’s home because there’s no trace of military gear on him. The only evidence of the violence he’s experienced is the dark stain on his shirt. Whatever liquid soaked into the shirt darkens the black cotton even more. His jeans are caked in the familiar light brown color of the soil around Las Almas.

You stop the analysis as soon as you feel the bile rise in the back of your throat.

Instead, you busy yourself with grabbing both batches of murky water to drain out in the pila outside. You don’t have the energy to talk to your uncle right now, much less deal with the look he reserves for you when he comes back from missions. You just lather up the rags with zote and scrub them against the ribbed cement.

The water runs red for sometime before it slowly morphs to pink and then a slight cloudy view, until finally it’s clear. The hens cluck around you, Chancho also waddles nearby to investigate your movements as you wash.

You’re too focused on washing and not trying to think that you miss the stranger stepping out into the backyard with you. The hens don’t scare off, instead they cluck at him, winding themselves between his legs as they inspect him. Chancho does the same, slowly approaching him and sniffing around before the spotted pig decides there’s nothing important for him there.

“Questioning is the family trait then, yeah?” His voice is low, raspy, like he hasn’t spoken in days. Hasn’t had a drop of water in weeks.

You spare him a glance, not wanting to look at him for long, when his face catches your attention.

No new wounds, plenty of old ones, but the area around his eyes is covered in black. Giving him the look of a child with face paint on him. Instinctually, you wring the rag before stepping to him and starting to blot away at the black.

Whatever he’d come out to do is put on the back burner as he freezes at your movements. He barely breathes, eyes focusing on the focused look on your face as you drag the multicolored towel across his cheekbones. You don’t ask for permission as you gingerly take his jaw into your hand, moving his head every which way to get the eyeblack off of him.

“Is being pushy a family trait too?”

You scowl at him, the grip on his jaw tightening, “Is that what this is to you Europeans? We call it hospitality out here.”

“Invading someone’s personal space?”

“Taking care of someone’s son.”

He knows you don’t know anything about him, let alone the tragedy that was Manchester, but the words still manage to dislodge something in him. The idea that kind hands and homes are offered to children, no matter who they are.

He tucks that away to sit with in the future. Not now.

Now he focuses on the feel of your hands against the scruff on his jaw.

–

You’re on the outskirts of the room watching the conversation that swirls around the big wooden table. The extended that was local had gathered at Yaya’s to discuss El Sin Nombre’s capture.

It was a pointless conversation that you had no interest participating in. Win or not, the work was pointless. One narco falls, a vacuum opens up, another takes their place. Tale as old as time, something the Mexican government surely wont fix with this singular capture.

Simon is next to you, sitting silently as the low conversation fills the rest of the room. He’s watching the table while you stare out the window at the stray dogs circling the street. It takes them a minute to find the food you’ve left for them but when they finally do you make a happy noise.

“Not interested in the familial debrief?”

You snort at his question, not even bothering to look at him directly, “This family has lived through the capture of dozens of narcos. I already know how this conversation goes.”

Simon doesn’t respond, just shifts his attention to you while you continue to pay him no mind.

“Honestly would be cheaper if you would stay longer to come and catch the next one. Saves you a flight.”

“This your way of asking me to stick around?”

You can’t help the noise you make at that, “If you stick around here longer than you need to I don’t think you’ll be of any good service to the force. I hear men incapacitated by the heat don’t do well.”

He huffs out a laugh, bringing the Modelo up to his lips for a swig. The cool malty liquid cuts through the heat that seems to have invaded his mouth, much like the rest of the city. He glances around the quaint family home, heat pressing into him in a way that never has before, and realizes just how deep Las Almas has sunk it’s claws into him.

He spares you a glance, still engrossed in the activities of the strays, and studies you for a second. Your body rests against the cushions, not at ease but not tense. Always alert, he thinks to himself. The same way he is back home. Never letting his guard down, assured in his own abilities, but never wanting to get caught off guard. It’s how he’s been living his whole life.

You let out a small sigh, cheek pressing into the cushion, the pressure of your cheek pushing out your lips just a bit.

He takes another drink.

Yeah. He can stick around for a little more

[spookberry]

Theyre so !!!! this whole back and forth really, And jo calling cuz hes not good at texting this is the most them interaction theyve ever had

[mabaki]

Mabaki's Willbender Flames

I'm feeling a little homesick and I've had this idea for a while, so I made his flames into Guardian Lion Dogs

[elbdot]

Ooooo. Alola disliking Mega evolutions but Haru and Guzma being okay with Dyna-/Gigantamaxing is so fun take

My understanding of pokemon lore and gimmick mechanisms are vague at the best, but honestly... If we remove the increase of size, what is the difference between mega evolutions and gigantamaxing?

Is Alolans issues with megas based on how it "forces" a physical change and therefore potentially painful for the pokemon? Gigantamaxing does the exact same thing or even "worse" changes (in my personal opinion: mega vs dynamax gengar)

Is their issue about mega evolution making the pokemon more violent? Dynamax raids and a huge part of the Galar story line proofs that dynamaxing does the exact same thing. One could even say it is even more dangerous since it can not be predicted/controlled without modern science.

Is it because Megas are based on "mystery energy"? Again... Dynamaxing...

So either there is history between Galos and Alola that has lead to huge bias or Alolans just like Galar's culture more due the similarities it shares with their own (the Galar Legue being quite similar to Alola's Island Challenge but with a big stadium fight at the end)

As said... I probably forgetting some lore that explains this all (outside the multiverse and Alola being older region than Galar, ergo could not comment about Dynamaxing in their pokedex) but I am really interested to see how the boys will justify their stand on dyna-/gigantamaxing IF you decide to take the story there.

I postponed answering this ask to THIS WEEK since my reply would've been quite spoilery for todays update

PERSONALLY I like to think that Guzma and Hau *ahem, excuse my strong language* are talking out of their asses and don't actually know much about Dynamaxing/Gigantamaxing and especially not the problems Galar is facing due to the unstable energies causing Pokemon to randomly turn gigantic in the wild.

If they were more informed about it, I think they'd be far more critical of it, since you are correct: Dynamaxing causes FAR more damage and is an active threat in the region, unlike mega evolution, which is a state that doesn't randomly happen and CAN be controlled.

But Hau and Guzma literally only know Dynamaxing from watching the League matches on TV - and with Galar hosting one of the biggest and most reputable Leagues in the world, how could there POSSIBLY be anything wrong with Gigantamaxing, riiiight?

It's the typical scenario we're all too familiar with of knowing a little bit but thinking we know everything about something without actually having done much research on the topic.