how to fucking flag pedophiles

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excalibelle:

socialjusticeolivia:

discourserealness:

call me the fucking ~internet police~ BUT I DIDN’T KNOW UNTIL TODAY THAT THERE’S LITERALLY A COMMUNITY OF “PEDOPHILE POSITIVITY” ON THIS HELLSITE

THERE ARE PEOPLE OPENLY ADMITTING THAT THEY ARE ATTRACTED TO CHILDREN/CONSUMING CHILD PORN ON THIS WEBSITE!?!??! THERE’S 13 YEAR OLDS ON HERE!!!

so my dudes, how to flag “maps” (minor attracted people aka pedophiles)

1. click “flag this blog”

2. click “this violates tumblr’s community guildlines”

3. click “someone is at risk of harm”

4. click “harm to minors”

5. type “pedophile” in the box

THIS IS GOOD AND ALL BUT PLEASE IF THEY HAVE ACTUAL CP PLEASE REPORT IT TO FBI TIPS,

If it’s clear they have broken laws (they post/talk about using child porn, admit to things they’ve done with minors, etc), go fill out a form here ( https://tips.fbi.gov ) to make the FBI aware and bring this filth to justice. Every single one. And if there’s no proof of criminal offense, then go on and flag them, at least then they aren’t here to prey on children on the internet.

game-of-style:Mourning gown for Lysa Arryn - Tony Ward Haute...

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game-of-style:

Mourning gown for Lysa Arryn - Tony Ward Haute Couture Fall 2016

Ready to play….

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Ready to play….

copperbadge: When Han gestures past Finn with his chin

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copperbadge:

When Han gestures past Finn with his chin and Finn is confused….

chibifukurou: The chin thing
coppersam: The chin thing wouldn’t read under a helmet
coppersam: Which is probably why he doesn’t understand it :D
tequila mockingbird: oooh sam i’d never thought of that
starbit: that makes sense sam
coppersam: I bet Finn’s heavy on hand gestures and vocalizing and very low on other body language
tequila mockingbird: well, or finn has this terrible habit of making super rude faces wehn he’s supposed to be listening respectfully to something boring

Medieval European Girls In Fiction vs. History

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Fiction: I hate sewing, it's so fucking pointless and lame. My sisters and my mom are so stupid, I'm smart, I'm going to go ride my pony and learn how to use a sword. Rar, I'm fierce.
History: Without my needle, you would all be naked and dead. Excuse me, I have to go throw a party and negotiate a land deal.

One of these puffs is not like the others, one of these puffs...

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One of these puffs is not like the others, one of these puffs just doesn’t belong…. #hexipuff #knittersofinstagram #ravelry

caffeinewitchcraft: writing-prompt-s: You are an anonymous professional assassin with a perfect...

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caffeinewitchcraft:

writing-prompt-s:

You are an anonymous professional assassin with a perfect reputation. You lead an ordinary life outside of your work. You’ve just been hired to kill yourself.

My first thought is that the middle man I use–calls himself ‘Leader’, real name Brett Thompson, 46, balding, lives in PA–has uncovered my identity. Why else would I be staring down at a picture of my own face? I think it’s a warning, that he knows about the Sanchez job, and I nearly reach for my go bag.

Then I see the client’s name.

Vi Larson, the file tells me, male, 32, computer analyst.

I close the manila folder, tossing it away from me. The whiskey sour’s gone warm in my hand, but I drink it down anyway, eyes distant. I don’t need to read any more of the file. I can fill in the gaps well enough.

Funnily enough, this betrayal is just as sharp and unpleasant as the first one, the one that got me into this business in the first place.

“You at least owe me a crime of passion, you bastard,” I mutter into my drink. I close my eyes and sigh, willing away the stinging in my heart. I knew that my relationship was in trouble, but this is just cold. 

 In a way, I can’t believe it. Is a divorce really that hard?  But, no, I know Vi. He’s methodical, analytical, and competent. If anything, hiring an assassin with a reputation like mine is right in line with his personality. Nothing but the best, even in the murder game.

I should be flattered, really. My rates aren’t cheap. Whatever I did to make him send this in–and he did, there’s his social security, his fingerprint, everything–it must have been killer.

I set my glass down on the counter and tuck the folder under my arm. I need to think and I do my best thinking in the tub. Vi won’t be back from his “business” trip for another three days, during which I’m supposed to kill myself.

As I head up the stairs, I can’t help but laugh. Finally, after three years of marriage, my husband does something interesting. And it breaks my fucking heart.

——————————————

He wants me to make it painless but horrific. There’s a script in the document, something that’s more common than people think, and it’s hard to read it, even surrounded by bubbles and soothing music.

“Your husband sent me. Said he needed to shed some dead weight.” I snort at the pun and close my eyes, resting the file against my face so it doesn’t get wet. Unfortunately, the tears do that anyway.

“Fuck,” I say. “You bastard.”

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