#nothing will go wrong with this kid

[fferthe]

[muzsmocsing]

Being friends with Xie Lian would be so weird because this man peppers in bits of his insane life ruining trauma randomly mid sentence. You'd like accidentally step on his toes and he'd go "ah don't worry about it, that foot's been cut off and eaten before anyways" smile, and then never elaborate.

[welcometogrouchland]

I've been binging Batman Beyond recently (Terry ily so much) and thought about how- bc of the JLU twist which I think isn't even canon to the comics BB verse but shhh bare with me- he'd technically be Damian's half brother??? Which is just so ridiculously soap opera to me. I need them to interact in a silly time travel adventure so bad you don't even understand (ID in alt)

[bunnieswithknives]

Hey I love your nature au it’s so good and sad. Ok, so dale just,,,just SHOOTS his own kid just because he was angry that dev couldn’t be bait??? Does dale ever regret it? Does he push the feeling down? Does dev feel like his dad would get physically abused to him if he steps out of line???? Baby boy is only 10 he probably has trauma :(

NOT QUITE, he didn't shoot Dev out of anger he mistook him for a changeling and then victim blamed him for breaking the precautions that he never told him about and couldn't have known existed.

Dale absolutely regrets it. He feels genuinely sickeningly awful, but unfortunately, he has no idea how to express that in a way that isn't extremely toxic.

[pastafossa]

I went through the second half of my ADHD testing today. And we had some time left. She asked me how I was feeling, towards the end, about the questions and the issues I'd talked about, and I told her about my anxiety and guilt over the things I'd mentioned, and my fear even now that I'd get through this whole process just to hear 'It's not ADHD, you're just lazy, just try harder.' When I told her that she gently said, "well I want you to know, you do have ADHD. You have it. You don't have to feel anxious about that anymore." And ya'll, the way I just started to cry.

I have it. I have it, and I class as 'severe' ADHD.

All those times as a kid I got in trouble with teachers for forgetting things or not being able to focus. All of the, 'you do well in reading, you're smart enough to focus on this, too, don't be lazy, you just need to try, why don't you care?'. All of the projects I started but couldn't finish, the forgetting to reply to messages and texts from friends and losing friendships over it, the clutter I can never seem to manage, my shit attention span, the way I couldn't just get shit DONE, the failed attempts over and over and over to organize and task manage and I don't understand, I'm trying, I promise I'm trying, please, I'm trying, why isn't it working. All those years spent wondering why I was such a fuckup when everyone else appeared to breeze through projects and Normal Adult Tasks without forgetting or losing focus.

And now I know it wasn't my fault. That I was trying. That I did care. That I wasn't lazy. My brain just... doesn't work the usual way. I was doing the best I could with the wrong tools, because all my life I've needed a screwdriver and all I had was a hacksaw. And now, NOW I can finally go to to the doctor for medication, go to therapists who can help and I can finally get the right set of tools. I know now one of the reasons I'm so anxious thanks to this: "I've found that people with late diagnoses often struggle with guilt and shame, and a lot of internalized ableism, because they've dealt for years with people accusing them of being lazy or just not caring."

It is so, so gd validating, especially on top of the surprise diagnosis of 'oh yeah and you're on the spectrum and that's why you've always struggled with these other things!' It feels like there's this weight off my shoulders and it's amazing.

[gingermintpepper]

“Pallas Athena,” he greets softly. There is no affection in his voice, barely any intonation save for stiff, long-practiced neutrality. He continues wringing the water from his hair like she’s not intruding upon the sanctity of his purification ritual, “Have you already had your fill of victory?” 

His calmness is… off-putting. Unnatural. Like the stillness of the sky before a horrible storm. She’s grown accustomed to his icy silences, the dark looks thrown when their father isn’t watching, the barely restrained disgust when he’s forced to hear her speak of her tactics and methods for obtaining unquestioned victory. She knows Apollo isn’t weak-stomached - of all their kin, he is perhaps the most practiced in death - but he is not a warrior. He finds no glory in death-bringing, no meaning in the intricacy of war-work. For him, it is a job, a task that must be completed for the continued equilibrium of the mortal world. It means he can still be hurt by war’s savagery. And he had been hurt. Repeatedly. She had personally seen to it. No matter how good he was at his work, Phoebus Apollo was still an emotional creature. Not weak-stomached perhaps, but still soft. Tender. 

“I’ve something important to discuss.” 

He’s languid when he unpins the remaining length of his hair. It falls in heavy, swirling waves, rich gold which threatens to drag upon the ground if he hadn’t deftly grabbed the ends and tied them round his thigh. “I know you have little concept of ceremony but this is a bit ridiculous don’t you think?”

His dark hand reaches for one of the vases of oil stacked neatly on a little jut of rock that acts as a ledge. Athena intercepts him, standing a little taller to convey her graveness. “It’s very important. I only need a moment of your time.” 

She expects him to sigh, to cross his arms petulantly over his thin chest and complain that the war is over and so is her access to him every hour of every day. She expects to have to remind him that the battle isn’t finished ‘til the Acheans have vacated Trojan soil, to coax him from the little solitary cave of mourning he’s obviously built himself so he can see his job to its total completion. 

Instead, she gets another look. Calm. Dark. Horrible.

Apollo does not sigh, but it is a very near thing. “A moment and nothing more.” 

“The Acheans will begin their preparations to return soon,” she takes hold of the vase and carefully passes it to him. It smells saccharine, like rosewater or something similar. Like perfume to hide the stench of death. “I need your word that you will not hinder them on their journeys.” 

Their fingers brush as Apollo accepts her offering. It’s always odd the way his warmth radiates past all logical barriers. Athena can feel the chill of the water alongside the heat of his fingertips. Somehow, it is the cold that lingers despite all his warmth. “I do not make impossible promises, Athena. I want Neoptolemus,” he says. She stops as though struck. “The rest will have my blessing if they but ask.” 

“Phoebus— “

His eyes are like congealed blood when he looks at her, dark and tar-like upon an altar’s surface. “I want Neoptolemus. And I will have him.” 

How similar his tone has become to Father’s in these long years acting as his mouthpiece! Though his words are soft, the finality in his voice brooks no argument. How easy it is for her heart to soar at the prospect of a fight. Her warrior’s mien shutters all her feelings away like she’d never taken her helmet off. Her clawed finger pokes harshly into his chest, he’s marble hard under her touch. “You already had Achilles. You’ve no right to his son.” 

She regrets the words the moment they leave her lips. A stupid mistake; a feint when she should have dodged altogether. 

Apollo’s face goes slack and still. Serene, one would say, if they were a fool who had never before seen the shape of his wrath. He stands to his full height, broad shouldered, the flickering ends of his hair the only signifier of his displeasure, “Who said a thing about Achilles?” She huffs but does not answer, unsure of where his anger lies if not at the foot of Pelides. “Polites. Eurypylus. Priam. Helenus’ jailor. Andromache’s conqueror. If it weren’t Odysseus’ lot, Neoptolemus would have thrown Scamandrius from the tops of the balcony himself. What other reasons do I need?”

[hypewinter]

"I wish we could just go back to being kids when we didn't have to worry about protecting others all the time!"

Tucker regretted the words as soon as he said them but it was too late. Desiree appeared before them and with her signature catchphrase, disappeared him and his friends within a cloud of smoke

[kagoutiss]

oot zelda doodle i liked :’-)))

[alilweirddragon]

SLEEPOVER PRANK!

[princessdarth-vader]

I think my ultimate thoughts re; Kipperlilly is that I wish we got a scene where a character was allowed to show her... sympathy. I know there's a tone you wanna hit with a victorious season finale, and a somber note of a teenager falling into a deep well of rage doesnt match that tone but it would've been nice to see.

In my dream world, we get an extra epilogue scene where Riz goes to see Jawbone to go and talk to him, and brings up the thing he mentioned about "seeing Kipperlilly in himself" -- relating that to what Jawbone said at the beginning of the year, and wanting to talk about that deeply set in need for control, and the latent anger he has, and all the ways he is like Kipperlilly, and doesn't want to be.

And in response, Jawbone is able to address the ways in which he failed Kipperlilly, and let her down. That she needed more help than he could provide, that she needed someone who wasn't too afraid of their own biases to shut down her anger, someone who could maybe have given her a support system to turn to instead of Porter. Someone external to the school and the social dynamics within it. Just an acknowledgement from, as far as we know, the only adult in Kipperlilly's life who earnestly tried -- and earnestly failed -- to help her find a better path than her rage.

Just a small moment of acknowledgement that Kipperlilly was a child, an angry, scared, biased and deeply insecure child who was looking for help when she first walked into Jawbone's office, and because of all the adults who failed her, she was turned into something unrecognisable by the time she was 17.

[tommygotwrittenoff]

i just think if roles were reversed and buck was the one saying those gay ass lines to eddie, eddie wouldve proposed like four seasons ago

[lunar-years]

The horrifying fandom takes and theories it's generated aside, one of things I really love about Ted Lasso is the way it handles motherhood/babies/the future for its two main female characters. Like, on the one hand is Rebecca who so obviously and vocally has always wanted to be a mother, but married someone who didn't feel the same way and put her own desires aside for his, then had that fact thrown back in her face years later after he's abused and divorced her and gotten another woman pregnant.

A big part of Rebecca's arc is the constant frustration of having to accept the hand life's dealt her even when it's the opposite of everything she'd always wanted for herself. She's someone who wanted to be a wife and wanted to be mother and then finds herself in middle age as neither of those things. Then she makes the decision to pursue it on her own (which was awesome, I love that they showed her going to the fertility clinic and inquiring about whether pregnancy was a possibility for her! there's not way to become a mother!) and then she has to face her inability to get pregnant. And it sucks! but as sad as that is, it's also very...real? And the show doesn't miraculously let her have a miracle pregnancy anyway (like stupider shows would do, tbh), but instead has Rebecca come to terms with herself and her life under its new circumstances. She finds purpose outside of the things she once thought she would be and the roles her younger self assumed she would play as an adult. By the final episode, she's calling Richmond her family! She's realized what she wants most is the stay at the Club. She's come into her own. And then, yeah, there's the little ambiguous opening of Matthijs and his daughter and her possible future there with them--but importantly it isn't the end all to her happiness, anymore. It's a sign that she still has opportunities, just maybe not in the way she first envisioned, that no doors have closed forever and that what she's been looking for might come from unexpected places. there's no timeline!

And then you have Keeley, who's in her 30s and focused on her career and still figuring out how she wants that to look and who she wants to be. And yeah she's dating, and she has a serious onscreen relationship, but the topic of children (or marriage for that matter) never even once comes up! It's not made some big arc about how she doesn't want those things, and it's not some big fight with Roy or a goofy "really, you've never thought about babies?' conversation with Rebecca, it's just never something that's made relevant to her character nor her growth! She's a whole person without those things and she's clearly not actively pursuing them. And these two women with very different goals and wants are completely supportive of one another--it's never even a question :)

I thought both of their storylines in that sense were very refreshing to see on TV and like, comforting? If anything, the discourse it's spawned has been very...eye-opening...about how conditioned people have become to expect traditional marriage and babies storylines from every single female character. But the show doesn't give in to that mentality and instead shows that there's not one way a family has to look and not one way to be a mother and there isn't a set timeline for any of this stuff even if later you change your mind. And then if things don't turn out how you think, it doesn't mean you aren't going to end up with a good life! that was such a good message.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[hostilemuppet]

Granted I never finished my little pony or even got to cozy glow at all but I see people complain about how she "didnt deserve her fate" bc she was "literally a child" and I feel like its missing how the target audience are also children. Like a 9 year old isnt gonna see cozy glow as "a small baby child who was never given room to redeem herself, she shouldn't have been turned to stone like the other villains" they're gonna see her as "just like that mean girl in school who always picks on me and never gets in trouble for it because the teachers like her, I'm GLAD she got turned to stone! FUCK tiffany!"

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

"Can you shut the fuck up for a second!" Pony's fists are clenched so hard the knuckles are white 'n Steve thinks suddenly it's probably a good thing the kid bites at his nails or they'd be diggin' into his palms.

"No, you little punk. What's your problem?" Steve's not really angry yet. He's still pokin' half-heartedly mostly on instinct then any real urge to piss the kid off. The problem is that Pony is decidedly way over the aggravated line 'n into pissed without any help from Steve at all.

"I just had a shitty fuckin' day ok! How about you mind your business! Actually, why don't you hang out at your own house? You're wanted there just as much as here." Somethin' flashes across Steve's face 'n he narrows his eyes. Pony's flushed, chest heavin', a look of triumph on his face.

"You take that shit back." Steve balls his hands up, forces himself to stay down on the couch instead of marchin' over 'n puttin' the kid on his fuckin' head.

"No." Pony tilts his head 'n flashes a cold smile Steve just knows he picked up from Dallas. Steve takes a long breath. Remembers that Pony has a tendency to be cruel 'n not mean any of it when he was livid like this.

He's fourteen, Steve. Do you remember fourteen? Darry had told him after one of their regular matches. And he did. The problem was that Steve hadn't said mean shit. He just knocked the offender on his ass. Pony's mouth was too smart for his own good.

"You know what? You don't get to take your shit out on me, actually. Fuck off." Steve settles back on the sofa, turns back to the TV like he can pay any attention. God, where was Darry when you needed him. He'd probably collapse from the shock of it.

See, Steve contents himself with imagin' his face, I can be the bigger man. But then it's spoiled some since Steve can clearly hear Darry's took you long enough, you're only three years older than the kid.

"The fuck? Steve c'mon." Pony finally drops his school bag, right in the middle of the floor where Darry's gonna holler at him when he trips over it later, 'n takes half a step toward Steve. Like he's wheedlin' for a fight.

"C'mon? Glory, Pony. What's your fuckin' problem?"

"I don't have a fuckin' problem! Ok! You're the one with the problem!" Pony's voice is hittin' an all-time high, shrill note of frustration. Steve tears his eyes off the TV, rollin' 'em with a sigh, but now that he's lookin' at Pony he can see the way his eyes are rimmed red 'n his lip is bleedin' from him bitin' at it.

"Pony? Chill out kid, what's goin' on?" Pony does not chill out. In fact, it only serves to get him more frustrated.

"Nothin'! Nothin' is goin' on! Ok! I just don't know why you always have to be here 'n actin' like that 'n in my house- 'n- 'n-" Suddenly hot tears are streakin' down Pony's face 'n he's scrubbin' them away with nails bit down so far they're bleedin'.

"Pony?" Oh, Jesus. Where is Darry when you need him? Steve flies to his feet 'n Pony flinches back like he suddenly doesn't want the fight he's been askin' for. "Oh, glory kid."

"Just leave me the fuck alone. I'm fine!" Steve grabs Pony's wrists 'n hesitates awkwardly. He wasn't used to havin' to comfort the kid 'n he was way out of his zone. So he just moves on instinct, pullin' the kid to his chest like he's watched Darry do a hundred times.

For a moment Pony stiffens up 'n holds his hands out like he's not sure what to do with them, a weak little sob half caught in his throat. Then Steve wraps him up maybe a little too tight 'n Pony lets himself go limp.

"Let me go, Steve!" Pony wails like he doesn't have his face buried in Steve's shirt, leanin' so hard against him Steve's gotta work to keep him on his feet.

"Fine." Steve squeezes him again 'n then unceremoniously drops him. Pony's on the floor before he knows what's happenin' 'n Steve crouches down 'n puts a hand on his shoulder to keep him there. Pony goes to scramble to his feet 'n Steve pushes him back down, gently. "You wanna tell me what's goin' on?"

Pony blinks at him, eyes wide 'n hair wild 'n Steve can abruptly see him at eight, runnin' to Steve 'cause he'd scraped his knee 'n didn't want to tell Darry 'cause he'd told him to put on jeans if he was gonna ride his bike. Steve had made him give him his dessert in exchange for silence but had snuck the first aid kit out the bathroom window 'n wrapped it up real good.

"I dunno..." Pony scrapes again at the tears fallin' down his face 'n Steve bats his hand away, pullin' his handkerchief from his pocket 'n pressin' it none too gently across Pony's cheeks. "Knock that off." Pony snatches it from Steve 'n wipes at his own face.

"Glory, someone's in a mood." Apparently, it was too soon for that.

"I am not! Look, Steve, I can handle it myself. I don't need your bullshit." Pony pushes himself up 'n Steve easily grabs his wrist 'n yanks him back down.

"Fine, you don't need my help which, by the way, I wasn't offerin'. I just think if I'm gonna get hollered at on my day off I should get to know why." Pony narrows his eyes, scowlin' hard before droppin' his sulk down to his lap.

"It's nothin'. I just- I dunno, sometimes I just, when I-ugh!" Pony throws his hands up, makes a low angry sound in the back of his throat. "I just had a bad fuckin' day 'cause like, I just, it's-"

Oh. Steve thinks. Ok. I know that.

"If you don't know... like, what it is-" Pony goes to cut him off 'n Steve whacks him on the hand 'n barrels on. "Or if you know what it is but you don't know how to like... say it. Don't worry about it. I'm not gonna make you figure it out."

Pony blinks at him again 'n Steve drops his hand off his shoulder. "Well. Alright." 'N just like that Pony wipes the remain' tears away, clambers up, 'n offers Steve a hand. Man, if the kid couldn't bounce back from anythin'. Steve tries to remember if he'd ever been like that. But he remembered fourteen 'n he'd always been more of a sulker.

"We good, kid?" Steve eyes him 'n Pony shrugs, shoots him a mischievously little grin Steve knows he got from Soda.

"Sure, as long as you get me dinner."

"Oh sure," He pulls Pony under his arm 'n messes up his hair 'n Pony whines," as long as you're payin'. After all it is your house."

[llumimoon]

So that poll I did the other day was to decide who I wanted to be the center character tehe <3