A *REAL* image captured by Cassini of two of Saturn’s moons. Rhea, the planet’s third largest moon is sighted next to Epimetheus, a small, inner moon. Breathtaking!
Kate isn’t taking none of the teacher’s shit, you go girl
Adopted sisters tho.
I intentionally didn’t include Nebulas eye piece thing because she doesn’t have it in the movie prelude comic as a kid, she gets it along with her metal arm and some other things as she grows up and whatnot. Also Gamora is based on the 616 comics instead of the mcu this is a mess lmao
I’m so excited about the Spider-Woman solo, there’s nothing I love more than seeing a character I love being grossly sexualized by official art.
Jessica is tired of your shit, Vladimir
Anyone who talks about teenage girls like they’re somehow exceptionally annoying and immature has either never met or actively ignores teenage boys and their shenanigans.
There’s nothing i hate in fiction more than the bullshit lesson they force down our throats about ‘forgiving bullies” and ‘being the better person’.
Showing an attempted rape or a rape threat in your show, story, whatever, does not make it “realistic” or “truthful” or whatever term of justification you want to apply. It doesn’t lend weight to a confrontation, doesn’t put across just how seriously we should take this Bad Guy Threat.
What it does is make me feel sick to my stomach while I watch. What it does is force me to deduce if this week the media I turn to for escape will make me want to throw up, or give me an anxiety attack. What it does is replay in my head every time I walk home alone at night, over and over, with the faces of the rapists as strangers on the street and me as the woman at their mercy.
It doesn’t just take me out of the story. It bodily hurls me away from it. And the way this is written, so often written, without emotional consequences for the person who goes through it, is such supreme fucking bullshit it makes me want to blacken the eyes of any writer who does it.
I was groped, once, by a stranger on the street, and for weeks afterward I would shy away any time an unfamiliar person brushed up close to me. And that, ha ha ha, is ‘minor’ as compared to the things the women I try to watch on screen go through. And they walk away at the end without so much as looking back or checking their weapons. Their male costars say “You okay” and they say some variation on “Yeah” or “Don’t worry about it” or “It’s nothing” and within the narrative, it is. It’s nothing. It’s normalized as the behavior of unrestrained man; the masculine without restraint becomes sexually violent, without fail, and the woman accepts this and strides off into the narrative landscape until the next time she’s alone and unarmed and the hero needs some saving to do for ten minutes of filler. It never keeps her up at night. It never makes her look twice at the Good Men in her company and wonder how far they would go, under the wrong circumstances. It never makes her feel safe only in the company of women, never makes her weigh the presence of each new man in her life as threat-vs-benefit.
Fucking stop it. Just fucking stop. You clearly are writing from the perspective of the attacker, not the attacked. Find a better way to mark the Bad Guys than the monstrous shorthand of sexual assault. As offensive and nauseating and short-sighted and fucking overused as it is, find a way to establish wrongdoing that isn’t lazy shorthand for ‘what we all know happens to a woman alone’.
Let me watch one fucking show without wondering if the characters I relate to will die or be made powerless, if they will be called bitch and slut and whore and be faced with a man unzipping his pants and the Good Guy showing up just in time. This has become the dealbreaker for me. It’s the point at which I turn off the TV and pick up a Seanan McGuire book, because no matter how many apocalypses she throws at me, she will never make me sit through a scene like that. And somehow, she can still tell a good story.
I want a way to block one specific image from appearing on my dash ever again.
If I never see that fucking Spider-Woman cover again in my life… well, I will still carry the pain of it in my heart for the rest of my days. But I’ll at least stop snarling at my screen quite so much.
She had curves in all the wrong places - some of them cast a 3-dimensional shadows, still others hummed a low, discordant note as they flitted about like flies. She was nothing like other girls - she was an abomination from the 6th plane of torment
The Black Dragonfish(Idiacanthus atlanticus) of the Stomiidae family.
I love how this is like a creature from hell but it has like little pink cheeks
deep sea anime blush stickers
fun fact those pink cheeks glow to attract unsuspecting prey
fashionable and functional with a dash of abject terror
Dreamed I finished a story. Not this one, but a story. It was such a nice dream, and reality is such a cold, harsh place.
guess who i romanced on my first playthrough of da2