mysoulismylighthouse
Steph ✨
melbourne. aus. typical swiftie. lover of all things culture. t liked x79. t reblogged x1 she/her. 26.
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Nothing can be forgotten. Nothing can be lost. The universe itself is one vast memory system. Look back and you will find the beginnings of the world.
—Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping
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rania matar, "hiba, shatila palestinian refugee camp, beirut," 2010
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ONLY MURDERS IN THE BUILDING | S03E10, 'Opening Night'
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childhood was so crazy. my parents were kind of young. a meal seemed to last forever. i could run for ages. everyone was alive
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🎃 31 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN 🎃
day thirty-one • halloween (1978)
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Taylor Swift is photographed for 1989 (Taylor's Version) Crystal Blue Skies Edition Booklet
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Where is the International protection the Palestinian people is entitled to when the occupying power violates international law and harms those it is obliged to protect. Aren't Palestinians lives worth saving?
-Riyad Mansour (Palestinian representative to the UN)
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let the world never forget that it’s AMERICAN weapons being used to wipe out Gaza. that it’s AMERICAN tax money funding this genocide while the AMERICAN president and AMERICAN leaders support this mass murder of innocent people. let the world never forget America has Palestinian blood on its hands
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Hundreds of thousands of people came out today in London to March for a Free Palestine. Hundreds of thousands of people disagreeing with the current government stance on the war. Don’t let the media fool you, people in the UK stand with Palestine.
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your little angel of a son inherits katsuki's bad temper, and it manifests in his terrible fours.
there's an awful little shriek that echoes throughout the house and katsuki is on his feet and halfway to the living room before his eyes are even open—but the only danger awaiting him there is a pouty little brat.
his son is sitting amidst a swarm of toys that have been strewn about haphazardly, and his arms are crossed and big fat tears are in his eyes and he looks mad as all hell. you do, too, sitting across from him with a deep frown, holding the ripped page of a book from his little shelf.
"no sir," you warn, "we do not treat our things this way."
you incite a meltdown.
katsuki feels his own temper flaring—half from shock and awe at his little mini-me and also from the exhaustion wearing him thin—when your son kicks his legs out in a burst of rage, letting out another little shriek of anger. your cheeks puff up, wearing the same furious expression, and at the hiss of his name, the little brat jumps to his feet and snatches a toy truck nearby and launches it across the room.
"oi!"
your son's attention snaps to katsuki, startled, losing a hint of anger as he pouts at the floor.
"what'd she just tell you?" and when he gets no response, katsuki prods with a, "hah? answer me."
but the little boy only stamps his little feet and grunts out a furious, wordless sound that has katsuki's lip curling. you let out a heavy sigh, shaking your head at him before frowning down at the torn page in your hands, and then katsuki is planting a hand on the back of his son's head and steering him towards the front door.
"time to take a walk."
the boy goes, even though his arms are crossed and his eyes are downcast. he only resists once, as katsuki tries to shove his little feet into his shoes.
"i don't wanna." he mumbles, face scrunched and wet before promptly looking away.
"i didn't ask."
"hmm!"
katsuki has to resist the urge to pinch his own son.
they get out the door eventually, and the little boy stomps along for the most part, no longer needing a guiding hand on the back of his head once they get around the block a time or two. neither of them say anything.
fatherhood has taught katsuki a lot of things, which was expected, but the one thing that's surprised him is—he's learned all the things he doesn't want his son to be.
the first of them being angry. not the way katsuki was, mean and selfish, throughout his childhood; hateful and careless, in his teens; shut off and simmering, even now.
he waits until the tension has melted off his little shoulders, until his little face has dried and evened out. his arms swing at his sides, occasionally coming up to wipe his snot with the back of his hand, and he eyes the few wildflowers they pass with a little hum and a small smile.
katsuki tugs once on his ear, frowning down at the little brat when he peeks up at him. "that how you're supposed to treat your mama?"
he doesn't answer at first, leaning his head all the way back and clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, until katsuki stops walking. "no, sir."
"how you s'posed to treat her?"
"with love."
"how you s'posed to treat your toys?"
"with care."
"uh-huh," katsuki squishes his son's cheeks in his hand, shaking his head lightly from side to side until he starts giggling. "that how you acted today?"
"no, sir."
"that how y'r gonna act again?"
"no, sir."
"okay," katsuki murmurs, nodding once before letting him free. the little boy bounces on his feet and sucks on his lip, grinning when his tummy is pinched. "now pick those for your mama."
and he does, carefully plucking a small handful of flowers from the grass as they make their way back home, and just before he runs up the steps to the house, katsuki's little angel of a son hands him the biggest one.
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Lovelorn and nobody knows
Love thorns all over this rose
Don't repost please
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and let the history books name joe biden, rishi sunak, justin trudeau, emmanuel macron, ursula von der leyen and every other world leader who did not step in to prevent the genocide of palestine as cold-blooded murderers. may they face a shred of the immeasurable pain and suffering they allowed to be committed against 2.2. million innocent lives.
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This is the paramedic who found his family among the dead victims. I thought it was only his mother who got killed, but I was mistaken. But his sister seems to have survived only.
They're telling him to calm down but he fell to the ground saying: My family. My family.
The man consoles him saying: We're all one family here. Each one of us has lost their family. Look, my sisters are in there. We have to get back up. You're strong.
Share this. Call israel on their crimes.
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Kiki’s Delivery Service, 1989
dir. Hayao Miyazaki
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