#someone take me away from dads

[clericofinfamy]

saw this on instagram and had to be hospitalised part2….,,,,,,

:)

[maalidoesart]

all i could think about after e1 of season 4

[spicyicymeloncat]

I hate llorumi as much as everyone else, but like can we stop saying that Harumi has a canonical family dynamic with either Garmadon or Lloyd.

There’s no family dynamic there. Not in canon.

Llorumi is bad bc of the attempted murder. And the manipulation. And the kidnapping. And the resurrecting Garmadon, robbing him of his humanity and destroying the world.

I don’t even think Harumi and Garmadon have really a family dynamic. It’s definitely not a normal one.

I think I’m just tired of people saying that Harumi and Lloyd are ‘siblings :D’ after listing why they have a toxic relationship. Like all those dynamics are still toxic either way, them being siblings does not fix any of that. It’s still just as frightening and awful. And same goes for Harumi and Garmadon. Like Harumi can have other family who aren’t the people she obsessed over to the point of destroying the city.

[cringefaecompilation]

cannot stand it when i see posts saying orym could/can only ever have concrete conversations about himself and his feelings with either dorian or ashton or that they're the only people that would understand what he's going through. asides from the Women Just Don't Get It-ness of it all, like:

i rest my case

[jamiesfootball]

i would LOVE to see what you do with “when will you learn?” for the prompt drabbles MWAH

All Rebecca had texted her mother that morning was, "Hope things are well [heart emoji]."

And then this shit.

"Again?! Mother, that's the third time this month."

"You know your father. He just gets a bit whimsical when things are going well."

"No. He's trying to buy you back. That's what he's doing."

"Well, they've all been lovely gifts!"

"Of course they are, mother. Because he's a miserable, shriveled up cock who thinks he can buy your affections because you let him get away with it."

"I'm not naive, Rebecca. I know exactly what kind of man your father is. You're the one who seems to need the reminder. Honestly, Sausage, when will you learn?"

"Argh!" Rebecca smashed at the middle finger emoji, the frustration only growing when she hit a pink heart instead and her handbag slipped out of her arms. "Shit!"

"Um. Everything alright?"

Rebecca swiveled on her heels; her coat slipped off, fluttering to the ground to join her handbag.

Standing next to his car, Jamie Tartt watched wide-eyed as his boss made a silly little fool of herself.

Perfect.

"Here, I can get that for you," he offered, already jogging towards her before she could respond.

Rebecca closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Thank you, Jamie. Sorry, this whole morning has been a disaster."

"Not a problem," he insisted. He picked up her coat and, in an oddly solicitous gesture, gave it a little shake before holding it and her handbag out towards her with a formal, "Here you go, Ms. Welton."

"Rebecca, please," Rebecca corrected out of habit. She shuffled the items in her arm, trying to figure out how to free a hand. She had her keys, her scarf, a briefcase-styled handbag that she hadn't had the time to swap out that morning but that didn't work with the outfit she had on, her gym bag because Keeley insisted they move Pilates to after lunch this week, a to-go cup she'd impulsively asked the driver to stop for-

Her phone dinged. She jumped, nearly dropping the whole lot of it on the ground. "Shit."

"Do you need to get that?" asked Jamie. As if anticipating standing in for her coatrack, he carefully clutched her coat and the handbag that did work with her outfit against his chest. It did not match his iconography at all.

Rebecca waved him off. Flicking her phone over to silent, she complained, "No, no. My mother's just lost her fucking mind this morning."

She attempted to juggle everything again. Eventually, she noticed the silence. When she looked up, she found him staring at her uncomprehendingly.

The thing was that between Keeley's love of girl talk and the promotional materials Jamie regularly did for the club, Rebecca had an entire encyclopedia of knowledge about him stored in her head that she'd never even asked for. Jamie Tartt. Richmond's newly returned striker. Debuted at eighteen. Preferred whites over reds, evening showers, and knew a surprising amount about high-end cars. He also, somehow, regretted none of his tattoos.

It just felt like she already knew him.

Meanwhile back in reality, they'd only spoken a handful of times, and most of that had been contract negotiations and welcome schmoozing.

Probably not a good icebreaker then- maligning one's own mother at half-eight in the morning.

"Not that I speak to her like that," said Rebecca, the need to defend herself overriding any foot-to-mouth filters. "She's just been going through a rough patch with my father, and I think she's being stupid."

Well done, Stinky.

"Right. Um." He opened his mouth. Closed it. Held his arms out and asked, "Do you want help carrying all this in then?"

Gratitude filled her chest at the change of subject.

"Yes. That would be lovely, thank you."

Jamie smiled, lips and opinions kept tightly to himself. He popped off ahead of her to grab the door. With one more glance down at her phone, Rebecca found that at least one heart had flung free, sailing itself into her mother's waiting arms.

Her mum had sent one back in return.

The walk up to her office passed in relatively painless silence. She'd always assumed -- from the everything she knew about him -- that Jamie would be more of a talker. But then in the handful of months since he'd returned to Richmond on a permanent basis, he'd made himself eager to please and keen not to make waves with anyone whose name wasn't Roy Kent.

This was bad news for Rebecca, who personally could have used a small wake to clear the embarrassment lingering in the air. Where was Ted when you needed him?

Driven by mad compulsion and lack of Lasso, she found herself volunteering, "Really, I normally get on with my mother."

"It's alright, Ms. Welton. You don't have to explain anything to me," he answered. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. Then with a small grin, his eyes flicked towards her. "Besides, I wouldn't want to be judged on how I talk to my parents either. Doesn't make sense to judge anybody else on how they talk to theirs, you know?"

"Ooh, I like that. That's practically wisdom." She offered him her own commiserating smile. "I take it you don't get on with yours?"

Jamie shifted like he was about to put his hands in his pockets, only to remember at the last moment that he was actively carrying stuff. He settled for a half-hearted shrug. "I do with my mum, yeah. When I see her, that is."

"Does she live in Manchester?"

Jamie snorted. His eyes lit up. "Always. She'll never move either. Won't even let me buy her a new house or nothing. I tried to surprise her with a new car a while ago, and she asked me how I thought I'd be getting back to London with two cars."

"She sounds like a firecracker."

A fond smile broke out across his face, only to be reeled back in, dulled down into something wistful. "Yeah. She- yeah, she's great."

Without any flourish, he stepped ahead to open a door for her. She could see what Keeley meant when she described him as 'thoughtlessly sweet.' When he wasn't trying to push people's buttons, he was easy to like.

Not that he'd ever tried to push hers. Oh, no- she just hadn't liked him because Rupert had liked him.

Her heart stirred. That kind of behaviour she wasn't proud of anymore.

Pushing down the emotion knotting in her throat, she asked, "Does she have any plans to come see you play at any of our upcoming matches?"

"Nah," Jamie huffed. "No plans for any upcoming matches, no."

"Well then perhaps you should invite her." When he turned towards her with a question written in his furrowed, handsome face, she elaborated, "You know we always have spare tickets set aside for friends and family."

"I do know that, yeah." His eyes darted away from her. Some of the excitement faded from his expression. "Really, I appreciate the offer, but she doesn't come out to my games in Manchester either. She's good with catching me on TV when she can."

All signs indicated that she had hit a sore spot. She shouldn't interfere. Really, that would be the height of hypocrisy- her telling anyone what they should or shouldn't do about their parents. But with her hand gripped tight around the heart in her phone-

She was trying to do better.

Her mother had chosen gladly to stay in the ivory tower her father built. Rebecca might not be able to talk her into coming down, but perhaps she could convince Jamie not to leave closed a door that served him better open.

So she pressed, "How about you invite her to our semifinal match at Wembley?"

He froze up next to her.

"I know that we're playing against your old club, but really, it's a huge accomplishment for the team to have made it this far, and we wouldn't have done it without you," she told him bluntly. His ears caught pink. Emboldened, she continued, "And even if she doesn't care for football, I'm sure she'd love to see you. You can make a special occasion of it. Treat her to a night in London. I know two weeks is rather short notice, but I'm sure Higgins can help arrange some wonderful accommodations-"

"That's not going to happen," he cut her off sharply.

No. No, it wasn't a door at all. Rebecca knew that icy chill. For more than five years, she'd wake to find it haunting the cracks of her reflection in the mirror. Attention focused his straight ahead, not from awkwardness at the situation but in pure dismissal. Every one of Jamie's expressive features was schooled in position of bland indifference, a perfectly sculpted shell made out of a person.

Tower or not, he dawned his armour all the same.

"My apologies," she spoke softly. "I shouldn't have pushed."

They continued their walk up the stairs in silence.

When they arrived, he held up her coat and bag and asked in a nonchalant tone that bordered on boredom, "So where do you want these, then?"

It was exactly the attitude she'd expected from him at the start. Disappointment crawled into her chest and made a home.

"Right there on the tree by the door is fine," she sighed.

His brow furrowed. "Right there by the what- woah." He took a step back, eyeing her coat rack tree up and down appraisingly. "Nice. That's fucking mint, that is. You've got good taste."

A sharp laugh escaped her. "Why thank you. I happen to think so as well."

He hung her bag up. Then, gingerly, he arranged her coat on the other, smoothing out any wrinkles.

Guilt and care made for a strong mix at half eight in the morning. It would take a crueler person than her to leave things on such a sour note when he'd been nothing but darling company before she opened her mouth.

Willing to make a fool of herself one more time, Rebecca called out before he could leave- "Jamie."

He halted, already halfway out the door.

"I- apologise, if my earlier remark made you uncomfortable. I truly didn't mean for it. I only meant to say that-"

She took a step towards him. He stepped back, one foot out of the office.

Her heart felt positively chilled.

"The door is always open," she finished, defeat numbing her ears to her own pitch. Nonetheless, she perserved, determined to say her part even if the wind stole it away. "If you ever do change your mind, talk to Higgins. He'll see to it that she's treated like a VIP. Anyone important to you is important to this club."

A shadow crossed over his face; some dark presence moving in the tower just out of sight.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said cautiously. Then, as simple as snapping his fingers, he closed back up. The armour latched shut, and in it's place was the usual cocky arrogance -- the one she found herself growing reluctantly fond towards. He gave her a wave. "Thanks, Ms. Welton. You've been a help."

She frowned. Gathering the only name she'd never shared with disappointment to her chest, she shouted after him, "It's Rebecca!"

He was already gone, the sound of his footsteps on the stairs the only response.

[mokeonn]

Before I go to sleep I leave you all with this piece of advice: sometimes you don't actually have to answer big political questions, sometimes you can just say "I am not smart enough to know that, I just know the small things I do to help." Like you can often times completely avoid making a fool of yourself if you just say you don't know.

[lilacerull0]

i feel like reading/watching mbf immediately means knowing who i am as a person and... i cannot allow this

[mars-ipan]

god i cannot wait to be off these steroids…

[arundolyn]

ohhhh my fucking god nobody needs to like know any of this medical tmi but it is literally 11 pm and if im kept up one minute longer when i just laid down trying to go to sleep by my mother YELLING REPEATEDLY that she needs to pee. im going to actually go insane. she got a catheter in. Yesterday. it is working. she won't listen to anyone when they tell her that this is the case. help me jesus. im sure if a nurse comes to check on her tomorrow they'll probably get the same response. my brain will simply explode

[huh-1260]

Oh shit I forgot to post this

I have made Time a Honorary member of Space dad club. I shall explain the insanity of the thought: The chain is literally traveling across time and SPACE! Not in the outerspace sense, but it's still space as they are basically teleporting or traveling through wormholes across time, changing the space they end up in. So Time is a Honorary Space Dad.

So in the future when I doodle them, I can have Shiro (Voltron Legendary defenders) drinking tea with Time, talking about their kids, with Star Saber (Transformers Victory not IDW, IDW Saber did not adopt a human child, he is not a father he is not the real Autobot Commander Dad Star Saber, he is not my Star Saber), Optimus Prime (Probably be Prime or Skybound's version of OP) and Great Shot (Also known as Sixshot who is a Decepticon; Greatshot is a new body of Sixshot, also new idenity to hide from the Six Clan to turely fake his death, and to attone as his time as a Decepticon, in the transformers G1 Japanese continuity, who's an autobot thanks to Star Saber)

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

i have to think about chilchuck and laios forever

[missazura]

It's been oddly therapeutic to like. Have discussions with him about a lot of life stuff. I don't talk much if at all and I think the gradual descent into loneliness and social anxiety through the years made me lost the ability to talk to people. So it's been nice to practice talking to someone, and it actually hearing me out for some reason, giving me advice etc

Sure it's not a substitute for human connection but it's fun to verbally talk to my favourite fictional character and him just. Being there for me. That I get to hear kind words from my hero, someone who I highly looked up to

[vaugarde]

in general i think im really tired of kirby antagonists that are like “ohhhh this is the main antagonist- actually they’re just being possessed and they’re not actually responsible for their actions at all”

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[randum-famdoms]

GODS FUCKING DAMNIT WHY DID MY PARENTS DECIDE THAT A HOUSE LESS THAN 100 FEET AWAY FROM A HIGHWAY WAS A GOOD FUCKING IDEA

[kethabali]

i just remembered how my mom used to say its actually her religious right to treat her children however she wants and if we retaliate we would be completely at fault bc the parent should ALWAYS be treated with utmost respect