#but doesn't like being seen as such

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[demaparbat-hp]

Oh, Aang, you're really in it now...

This is Zu—I mean, Jian Li and Katara's second meeting in the Kyoshi Warriors AU. The first proper one, anyway.

Once they get through a minor difference of opinion or two (“I can carry my own basket!” “Never said you—” “I'm not weak!” “I didn't—” “Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean—” “Would you listen for once, woman?!” ) they'll become nearly inseparable.

For now Jian Li will carry Katara's basket all the way to the Kyoshi Warriors' dojo and, once there, they'll mercilessly tease Sokka when they see him in uniform.

[bixels]

tarpit site.

[molinaesque]

"Ugh, I'm gonna miss that butt." - The Unicorn (2019)

[demigods-posts]

they're filming season two, but i'm thinking about the potential adaption of the mount tam scene in season three. you know, the one where annabeth could apologize for pushing percy out of the way and falling off the cliff in his place, and how she knows that sounds terrible but they didn't have time for another plan and she didn't want to lose him that way. but percy just engulfs her in a hug because he's so relieved that she's safe now and everything else be damned. and annabeth doesn't understand why he's snickering to himself after that last statement, but she melts into the hug anyway because she missed him. and thalia and grover stand in the background happy for their friends on the outside but internally mortified, because their friends are definitely falling for each other but fate may not allow them to see it through.

[inkskinned]

you were raised in comparison.

it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.

you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.

you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.

what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.

it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.

you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.

you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?

a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.

you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.

it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.

something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.

[uncanny-tranny]

Periodic reminder that unless a person specifically and clearly tells you it is okay to tell others they are trans or queer, you should err on the side of caution and assume they do not want you to tell people (especially random people!) about their transness or queerness.

You have no idea, generally, why somebody doesn't talk openly about their trans or queer status, and you have no idea, truly, how somebody might react to that information. The most progressive person out there is still capable of harbouring incredibly negative thoughts about somebody's queer status.

[ineed-to-sleep]

Some sketches I did to try to get a feel for what I want my Rook to look like 🤔

[batcavescolony]

I see a lot of people upset about William Kaplan being dead and no one mourning him cus Billy stole his body and I just don't see it that way. The kid in Wanda Vision is Billy Maximoff, The teenager at the Bar Mitzvah is William Kaplan, the Teen that got taken to the hospital after the wreck is neither and both Billy Maximoff and William Kaplan. That Teen went home with the abilities of Billy Maximoff, to the home of William Kaplan, with memories of neither and lived there for three years. He cares about Rebecca and Jeff, he lied to the to protect them from pain, they are his parents. He wants to find Tommy, he has magical powers, he wants to know who he is. All of these things are true. I wouldn't say William Kaplan is dead he just doesn't remember, like Agatha wasn't dead when he was Agnes, she just didn't remember.

[mattodore]

birthday boy 🎂

[flwrkid14]

Falling for the One You Can’t Have

Jason had never been one to catch feelings easily, especially not in Gotham’s mess of a world where life moved too fast, too unpredictably. But it started small—just another rescue, another guy in the wrong place at the wrong time. A witty joke here, a grateful smile there, and soon, Jason found himself seeking out the boy who seemed to be Gotham’s favorite target for muggings and kidnappings.

Danny, the guy with a laugh that rang through the night and eyes that always sparkled with a mischievous glint, had become a small, unexpected light in Jason’s world. Sure, Jason wasn’t some lovesick idiot—he told himself that constantly. But each time he saved Danny, the witty banter and the easy way they fell into conversation made him feel something more. Slowly but surely, the small crush grew.

He started to look forward to bumping into Danny, even if it was because of yet another mugging or hostage situation. Jason would stick around for a little longer after each rescue, tossing casual remarks, feeling his heart beat a little faster every time Danny laughed at one of his jokes. The thought of asking Danny out had crossed his mind more than once, but it wasn’t like he’d ever had great luck with relationships. Maybe he’d try, though—eventually. He just needed to figure out how to do it without making things awkward.

Then Tim called for a family dinner.

Jason wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. Family dinners weren’t his scene to begin with, and the fact that Tim insisted this one was important only made him more reluctant. But, Tim was family, and it wasn’t like Jason was doing anything else that night. So he dragged himself there, expecting the usual chaos of a Wayne family gathering.

When he arrived, Jason immediately felt something was different. Tim had this weird glint in his eye, like he was excited about something. That was never good. Jason kept his usual distance, sitting near the back, arms crossed, trying not to be annoyed by whatever announcement Tim was about to make.

But then Tim stood up, calling everyone’s attention to the middle of the room. “Hey, thanks for coming, everyone. I have someone I want to introduce to you all. He’s really important to me and has been for a while now.” Jason perked up a little, curiosity getting the better of him. That’s when Tim said it: “This is Danny, my boyfriend.”

Jason felt the floor drop out from under him.

And there, standing beside Tim, was Danny—his Danny, the guy Jason had been saving, the one he’d been building up the courage to ask out. He looked just as charming and witty as ever, smiling brightly at everyone. Jason couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. All he could do was watch as Danny wrapped an arm around Tim and introduced himself to the rest of the family.

It felt like a punch to the gut.

Jason tried to steady his breathing, his hands clenched under the table. He couldn’t break down here, in front of everyone. He had to be cool, calm—just like always. But inside, his heart was shattering. How long had they been together? How had he not known?

When Danny’s gaze met Jason’s, his eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh hey! You’re Red Hood, right? You’ve saved me a bunch of times—thanks for that! I swear, I’m a total danger magnet. Usually Tim’s around to keep me out of trouble, but he’s been busy with Wayne Enterprises stuff lately, so it’s nice to have someone else watching my back.”

Jason nodded numbly, forcing a tight smile. “Yeah, no problem,” he mumbled, his throat tight.

It was worse than Jason could have imagined. Danny had been saving all his love for Tim—Tim, of all people. His younger brother, the one Jason was supposed to protect, the one who had swooped in and taken the one person Jason had allowed himself to care about. Not that Tim knew, of course. No one knew. And Jason couldn’t blame him—he couldn’t blame anyone.

As the dinner progressed, Jason tried to tune out the couple’s affectionate gestures. The way Danny laughed at Tim’s jokes, the soft touches between them, the way they looked at each other like no one else in the world mattered. Each moment felt like a knife twisting deeper into Jason’s chest.

He actively avoided joining in on any conversation with them, keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact. He couldn’t bear to see the love in Danny’s eyes when he looked at Tim, knowing that it would never be directed at him. That dream—the one where Jason had imagined maybe asking Danny out, maybe finding some happiness for himself—it was gone. Shattered.

All Jason could do now was smile through the pain, pretend everything was fine, and show his support for Tim. For both of them. Because that’s what family did, right?

But deep down, it hurt like hell.

Jason excused himself as soon as he could, slipping away from the table before the dinner had even finished. He couldn’t stand to see the two of them any longer. Once outside, he let out a shaky breath, leaning against his motorcycle and staring at the sky.

Jason was always the one saving people. But this time, there was no one to save him from the aching void in his chest.

[beanghostprincess]

A bit tired of people complaining about Sanji's principle of "not hitting women" being misogynistic when it has been clearly stated multiple times that he does not choose it and it's heavily tied to his trauma and admiration for his dad and respect for women and definitely not from seeing women as somehow weaker than him

[makiswirl]

can i just say. and this is probably a niche hill to die on. that i am so gobsmacked every time someone vaguely hints at the idea that jotaro doesn't care meaningfully for the other crusaders, usually particularly kakyoin and joseph, when those two actually tend to be the ones he reacts to being hurt the hardest

like he cares for his loved ones!!!! that literally plays into his character motives in every single part he shows up in!!! stop lying to me!!!!!!!

[xerorao]

Keep your fangs sharp, and your cash hidden 🐺🪙

[didderd]

was gonna color this, but i kept forgetting, and now i just want people to see the puppy man so here shirtless Crack cuddles :3

(comms open)

[inkskinned]

you wanted to be a good friend, because you loved your friends, but the truth was that everyone else somehow had a pamphlet on being normal that you never received. most of the time you learn by trial-and-error. you are terrified of the next big mistake you make, because it seems like the rules are completely arbitrary.

you've learned to keep the prickly parts of your personality in a stormcloud under your bed - as if they're a second version of you; one that will make your friends hate you. it feels feral, burning, ugly.

instead, you have assembled habits based on the statistical likelihood of pleasing others. you're a good listener, which is to say - if you do speak up, you might end up saying the wrong thing and scaring off someone, but people tend to like someone-who-listens. or you've got no true desires or goals, because people like it when you're passive, mutable. you're "not easy to fluster" which is to say - your emotions are fundamentally uninteresting to others around you; so you've learned to control them to a degree that you can no longer really feel them happening.

you have long suspected something is wrong with you, but most of the time, googling doesn't help. you are so-used to helping-yourself, alone and with no handbook. the reek of your real self feels more like a horrible joke - you wake up, and, despite all your preparations, suddenly the whole house is full of smoke. the real you is someone waiting to ruin your other-life, the one where you're normal and happy. the real-self is unpredictable, angry.

your real self snarls when people infantilize the whole situation. because if you were really suffering, everyone seems to think you'd be completely unable to cope. but you already learned the rules, so you do know how to cope, and you have fucking been coping. it's not black-and-white. it's not that you are healed during the other times - it's just that you're able to fucking try. and honestly, whenever you show symptoms, it's a really fucking bad sign.

because the symptoms you have are ugly and unmanageable for others. your symptoms aren't waifish white girl things. they're annoying and complicated. they will be the subject of so many pretentious instagram reels. if they cared about you, they'd just show up on time. you care, a lot, so deeply it burns you. you like to picture a world where the comments read if they loved you, they'd never need glasses to see. but since that's a rule you've seen repeated - "one must never be late or you are a bad friend" - you constantly worry about being late and leave agonizingly early. there are no words for how you feel when you're still late; no matter how hard you were trying.

so you have to make up for it. you have to make up for that little horrible real you that you keep locked in a cabinet. you are bad at answering emails so every project you make has to be perfect. you are weird and sensitive so you have to learn to be funny and interesting. you are an inconvenience to others, so you become as smooth as possible, buffing out all the rough parts.

all this. all this. so people can pass their hands over you and just tell you just the once -how good you are. you're a good friend. you're loveable.