#they deserve more credit

[nerdyfangirlmel]

Leah Sava jefferies and Walker scobells ability to show growing emotion, play off of each other, and demonstrate foreshadowing of where their characters and relationships are supposed to go is so phenomenal and better than most grown professional actors.

Like these two 12 year olds DO NOT have an understanding of what love is yet, in fact that is a common theme in the series-them debating over what love looks like.

Percy and Annabeth are 12 they aren’t in love yet, they don’t know each other they are still learning about each other. But they are 12 year olds who DO know that there is this person next to them who has demonstrated putting the other first instead of themselves. The only thing they know what right now is that they are becoming friends. They might know what they think it means to “like” someone in that superficial 12 year old way. But they don’t know what love is.

And Leah and Walker grasp that concept so well. They know that Percy and Annabeth are going to end up together, AND THEY KNOW HOW TO GET THEM THERE!

We’ve all seen book/comic to adaptation where the actor’s chemistry with their supposed love interest DOESN’T get them there and the relationship looks forced.

But these kids KNOW what there doing and they know how to get there characters to a relationship that’s going to be convincing.

[jd-205]

my favourite characters outside the main couple tbh

[flwrkid14]

Tim and Danny: Love, Trust, and the Weight of Protection

part 1

Danny knows what it's like to be hunted.

It’s been his reality for as long as he can remember—forever glancing over his shoulder, never truly at ease. Between vengeful ghosts, government agents, and countless other dangers, his survival has depended solely on his instincts, his powers, and the fickleness of luck. He has his friends—two best friends and a sister who would drop everything to stand by him, who he knows would always have his back. But the weight of that reliance feels heavy, a burden he can't quite shake.

Trusting others, truly leaning on them, has always felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford. He wants to feel safe, to let someone else take some of the weight, but the thought of putting them in danger because of him? That’s a risk he can't bring himself to take.

Then he meets Tim Drake.

At first, Tim’s protectiveness doesn’t faze him. It’s Gotham. You don’t date a Wayne-adjacent vigilante and expect anything less than a little paranoia. Danny’s been through worse. A tracker on his phone? Standard. Tim pulling files on his professors? Honestly, kind of funny.

But then, Danny finds out how deep it goes.

He stumbles upon a folder on Tim’s desk—his name printed neatly on the tab. Inside? Background checks on his classmates, neighbors and friends. Surveillance reports. A detailed map of his daily routine. Heart rate data. Sleeping patterns. Eating habits. There’s even a file on Phantom.

For a moment, Danny froze.

This should terrify him—it used to. Being watched, tracked for his every move, reminded him too much of those who hunted him, who’d wanted to tear him apart and dissect him like a lab rat. His first instinct was always to run.

But at that moment? He felt... safe. The notes in the margins weren’t cold or clinical like the ones his parents would have written. No, instead, they were worried. Make sure he’s eating enough. Possible threat? Keep an eye on this one. Look for ectoplasmic spikes—could mean trouble.

This wasn’t someone trying to control him. This was someone trying to protect him.

Tim’s not like the people who hunted him in Amity Park. There’s no malice in what he does. No intent to control or hurt. It’s all fear. Love, even. Danny can see it in Tim’s eyes when he stammers through an explanation, bracing himself for anger or rejection.

He’s scared Danny will leave.

And that’s what gets Danny.

No one has ever cared for him like this, no one willing to go through such lengths just to ensure his safety. Yeah, it’s intense, maybe unhealthy, even by the standards of a world that isn’t known for its normalcy. Danny knows Sam, Tucker, and Jazz would do the same—they’ve all put their lives on the line for him before, and he loves them for it. But Tim is different.

Tim is strong enough to face the dangers of Danny’s world and carry the weight of his burdens without hesitation. It’s something Danny could never ask his friends to do—not because they wouldn’t, but because they have their own lives, their own paths. They would drop everything for him, just as Tim would, but Tim does it with the resolve of a vigilante, already living a life where protecting others is his duty. This is someone who understands the risks, who’s already made those sacrifices, and still chooses to say, “I will protect you, no matter the cost.”

So, he smiles. He kisses Tim’s cheek. And he asks, “Can I put a tracker on you too?”

The way Tim’s eyes light up? Yeah, Danny thinks. This is love.

-----------------

The batfamily doesn’t get it.

They corner Danny one day, all serious expressions and careful words.

“Danny, we’re worried,” Dick starts, voice soft. “About Tim?” Danny tilts his head. “About both of you,” Steph says. “This… surveillance thing. It’s not normal.”

Danny shrugs. “Neither am I.”

They might understand—on some level. They’d lived through their own kind of danger, faced their own threats. But for Danny, it was different. They didn’t grow up being hunted, didn’t spend years hiding from people who wanted to tear them apart just for existing. For him, trusting the wrong person wasn’t just a risk; it was a matter of life and death.

Tim’s methods might be extreme, but Danny sees the intent behind them. It’s not control. It’s care. Tim watches his back because he knows what it’s like to lose people. Danny lets him because he knows what it’s like to be alone.

“Tim’s the first person who’s made me feel safe,” Danny tells them, voice steady. “You see obsession. I see someone who cares enough to watch my back.”

They don’t know what to say to that.

-----------------

Their relationship isn’t conventional. But in a city like Gotham, love isn’t always soft and simple. Sometimes, it’s vigilance. Sometimes, it’s knowing someone’s tracking your heartbeat because they’d die if it ever stopped.

Tim watches over Danny. Danny watches over Tim. It’s not about control—it’s about trust. About knowing that, no matter what, someone’s got your back.

The bats worry. They whisper about boundaries, red flags and healthy relationships.

Danny doesn’t listen. He knows what he’s got.

In a world where ghosts and vigilantes collide, where danger lurks in every shadow, Danny’s finally found someone who won’t let him face it alone.

And that? That’s everything.

[write-the-room]

Andrew's humour is so underrated bc how did everyone move on from "is your learning curve a horizontal line" that quickly

[misakiisstupid]

Alright, listen. I know the official story of how Tim Drake became Robin is all well and good—smart kid, figures out Batman’s identity, convinces Bruce he needs a Robin, blah blah blah. But let’s be real. That’s not how it should have happened.

Tim Drake is terrifyingly smart. He’s a strategist, a detective, and, above all, a little menace when he wants to be. You’re telling me this kid, who pieced together Bruce Wayne’s identity from sheer observation at nine years old, just politely asked to be Robin? No, no, no.

Tim absolutely should have blackmailed Bruce into adopting him. Hardcore blackmail. The kind that would make even Lex Luthor step back and say, “Whoa, kid, chill.”

This is my vision of what should have been: a Tim Drake who saw an opening, took it, and left Bruce absolutely shookethin the process. Because let’s be honest—Tim isn’t just some sidekick. He’s a future evil mastermind who just so happens to be on the side of good. (For now.)

So here it is: the real first meeting of Bruce and Tim. Or, as I like to call it, The Time Tim Drake Made Bruce Wayne Regret Ever Underestimating a Nerdy 13-Year-Old.

Headcanon: Tim Blackmails Bruce into Adopting Him

The Official First Meeting Between Tim and Bruce

It was supposed to be a simple meeting. Just a brief introduction. Bruce had been informed by Alfred that a "young man" had managed to infiltrate the Batcave, and though it wasn’t entirely unheard of for new vigilantes to show up looking for guidance, there was something off about this one.

When Bruce descended into the Batcave, he expected to see a nervous kid, maybe someone who would try to look tough in front of him but would still have that wide-eyed naivety. What he didn’t expect was a boy who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a laptop open in front of him, and a smile that could only be described as unsettlingly smug.

Tim Drake—who had hacked into Wayne Enterprises' database and had pieced together a detailed, uncanny amount of information on Bruce Wayne, Batman, and the Batfamily in a matter of days—was casually drinking what looked like a cup of tea, like he had every right to be there.

Bruce stood still for a moment, his gaze flicking from the laptop to the kid’s face. He immediately knew two things: One, this kid was dangerously intelligent. Two, Bruce Wayne was absolutely screwed.

Bruce: [Slightly unnerved but trying to keep his cool] "How did you get in here?"

Tim: [Not even looking up from his laptop] "Through the security system you definitely didn’t upgrade for the last two years, Mr. Wayne." [A pause as Tim sips his tea.] "And I gotta say, your firewall is incredibly… quaint."

Bruce's mind raced. His mind immediately cataloged the security flaws. How had he missed them? He had top-tier cybersecurity on every level of Wayne Enterprises and the Batcave, but this kid, this Tim Drake, had bypassed all of it in mere hours.

Bruce: [Trying to sound calm but with a slight edge to his voice] "You're saying you just… hacked your way in here?"

Tim: [Finally looking up at Bruce, eyes glinting with an almost mischievous joy] "Yeah. It was a fun challenge, honestly. But the real fun part was piecing together the puzzle." [He taps the laptop, showing a file of meticulously gathered data.] "You’re Batman, Bruce Wayne. And it wasn’t all that hard to figure out, really. Once you see the pattern, everything falls into place."

Bruce’s stomach drops. No one had ever pieced it together so fast, at least not without getting caught before they had the chance. Tim wasn’t just smart—he was terrifyingly good at this. Bruce had underestimated him. And now… now, he had a serious problem.

Bruce: "I assume you’re not here to join the team."

Tim: [Flashing a smile that made Bruce’s skin crawl, like he had all the power in the world] "Well, that depends. I’m here for a couple of things, actually." [He leans forward, his voice lowering with almost unnatural seriousness.] "First, I need a favor. Second, I’m giving you no choice."

Bruce's mind worked quickly, trying to assess how to handle this. Tim was not the kind of kid to be easily intimidated. His confidence was almost unnerving, and Bruce found himself instinctively on guard.

Bruce: [Skeptical] "And what favor would that be?"

Tim: [Pauses dramatically, looking at Bruce like a cat about to catch a mouse] "Well, Bruce, you see, I did a little digging. You did try to keep a certain little fact from the public, didn’t you? Something about your family history and some… interesting personal choices. Now, I’m no fan of blackmail, but I think we can come to an agreement here." [He leans back, crossing his arms and smiling widely.] "If you don't want this little gem to reach the press, you’ll have to do something for me."

Bruce’s heart races. He had no idea what Tim was talking about, but something told him that whatever this kid had uncovered, it was bad. Tim was way too casual about it, like it was a well-played card in his hand.

Bruce: "What do you want?" [His voice low and flat, trying to mask the slight tremor of unease.]

Tim: [In a tone that was disturbingly calm] "It’s simple. You’re going to adopt me. You’re going to make me an official part of your family. And in return, I won’t go public with your little secrets. I know what you’re thinking. You’re a very private man, Bruce. You won’t want your secrets getting out." [He smirks, clearly enjoying this.] "But I figure you’re willing to do a little more than just turn the other cheek when it comes to your reputation."

Bruce is stunned. This wasn’t a simple negotiation. This was full-blown blackmail. Tim was demanding adoption—a child’s ultimate leverage—as a means of keeping Bruce from being exposed. And yet, Bruce could see something in his eyes—this wasn’t just manipulation. This was calculated. This was Tim playing a long game, and Bruce had somehow walked right into it.

Bruce: "You can't be serious. I don't… I can't—"

Tim: [Cutting him off, voice soft but firm] "I am serious, Bruce. And you don’t really have a choice. So, what's it gonna be?" [Tim leans forward again, a glint of something sinister and clever in his eyes.]

Bruce takes a long, deep breath. There’s no denying the kid’s intelligence. Tim had backed him into a corner with no way out. He’d probably outsmarted Bruce in the process, and Bruce had never felt more vulnerable. He realizes, with a sickening certainty, that if he didn’t go along with this, the consequences could be far worse than a simple adoption.

Bruce: [Reluctantly] "Alright. I’ll adopt you."

Tim beams, like he’s just won the lottery.

Tim: [Happily] "Great! Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?" [He practically bounces in his seat, completely unfazed.] "We’ll need to update the paperwork, of course. I’m going to need a new ID, you know. Oh, and don't worry, Bruce. You’re going to be a great father. I’ll even let you choose my new name. How generous of me, right?"

Bruce stares at Tim, who’s practically glowing with excitement. For a moment, Bruce wonders if he’s dealing with a child prodigy or a villain in the making. Maybe both.

Bruce Wayne, for the first time in years, feels completely out of control.

Bruce: [Sighing, rubbing his temples] "I can’t believe this is happening."

Tim: [Smirking, completely satisfied with himself] "Oh, Bruce, you’ll thank me one day. Trust me."

And just like that, Tim Drake—who had blackmailed Bruce into adopting him—becomes the newest (and possibly the most unpredictable) member of the Wayne family.

End of Headcanon

[dykedvonte]

I think Curly’s monologue in the How Fish Are Made DLC gives so much insight to why he thinks the way he does but is also so sad cause it’s just this anger from a person who no longer has the energy to be angry.

You can tell a lot of it’s directed at himself, his choices and how he thinks they affected the people in his life. How he tried to work with what he had and it just wasn’t enough both by the design and how he interacted with it. He’s bitter, he’s upset but he’s also accepting it in a place he really isn’t expected to. But then again that’s always a problem he’s had.

It really goes in tandem with how he is characterized in mouthwashing as we really don’t get those inner turmoils. He’s always trying to help people with theirs and his gets clouded through a different persons view.

[my-autism-adhd-blog]

Potato good 🥔

Funny ADHD ASD Memes

[queen-morgana91]

Aang learned three elements (and mastered two of them), seismic sense, energy bending, the avatar state and learned how to redirect lightning all in less than a year, during a war, at 12

Yup, he’s the most skilled/talented avatar argue with the wall

[balis77]

It's kinda fascinating comparing actual G1 Cartoon Shockwave to like, every other version of Shockwave. Because every other version is like:

And then in the actual G1 cartoon he's just sitting there like:

"Hello, Lord Megatron... Yes, someone used the space bridge again... Yes, even though you told me to make sure no one uses it without your permission... Yes, it was Starscream again... Yes I know you told me to never let him use it, even if he said you were dead and he's in command now, because he's already used that lie four times, but sir he was very convincing... Yes, I know the Autobots also snuck in again last week... *sigh* It won't happen again Lord Megatron, I sw- oh Primus dammit I just saw another four Autobots run past me, gotta go."

[youling-the-ghost]

Luke, the bar is in hell with with the Devil and his half-demon daughter.

[the-kinning-hour]

Kurogiri doesn’t remember what it’s like to be human. He didn’t even really know that he was human, at any point in his life.

For this reason, caring for Tomura was often hard. Despite being hardwired as a protector and a guardian, he was much less naturally proficient at the delicate empathetic touch that parenting needed. He didn’t know the smallest of things. That was very obvious the first time Tomura fell ill under his care. While the boy himself didn’t seem super concerned despite his abject misery, Kurogiri panicked. He couldn’t possibly ask All For One for assistance—the man clearly wanted to leave the nuances of raising a child to Kurogiri, and bothering the Master would prove no good for anyone.

Thus, Kurogiri taught himself how to use the internet. He scoured every forum he could understand how to open, searching for just what Tomura could be afflicted with (the amount of results were extremely worrying, just how fickle were humans?) and how to treat it.

Eventually, he settled for simply gathering as many of the offered treatments as he could. Over the counter medicines, antibiotics, vitamins, a humidifier, what are these patches even for again?, heated blanket, but also plenty of ice packs, is there a difference between chicken stock and chicken broth?, vapo-rub, hydrating lotion and oils, so much honeyed tea that Tomura became repulsed by the scent of it, and more cough drops than any sane person should have in one building.

These things quickly became Kurogiri’s fallback for any illness. Tomura would sometimes hide his sickness, when it came about, to avoid the intensive remedies, but Kurogiri insisted. It always worked before, hadn’t it? The misty nomu was proud of his ingenuity and his medical abilities.

At least, until the League came in.

When Kurogiri had broken the news that Tomura would not be present—sick, with what could probably range from influenza to appendicitis to a moderate cold as far as Kurogiri was aware—it garnered a myriad of reactions. Spinner, Magne and Compress at least had the mild manner to look a bit concerned, to varying degrees. Dabi just laughed.

All of them responded with bewilderment when Kurogiri began rounding up his usual treatment measures, however. Dabi asked rather bluntly, “Hold up, the fuck is all of that?”

Kurogiri looked at them all blanky and responded simply, “I must look after Tomura Shigaraki while he is ill.”

The League exchanged some looks then. A silent conversation he wasn’t privy to seemed to play out before his very eyes. Twice got too bored to bother involving himself, Toga soon to follow when she supposedly caught the drift that Kurogiri was missing. Spinner shuffled his feet and looked away. Compress, Magne, and a very disgruntled Dabi broke what remained of the staring competition all at the same time. Compress in particular put a hand on Kurogiri’s arm and insisted, “Actually, why don’t we assist you? You can put all of that down, dear. We don’t need it. …Any of it. Really, put it down.”

Kurogiri watched anxiously as the eldest of the League shuffled around his own kitchen. Compress pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, letting it sit on the counter for seemingly no reason at all. He then dug around the extensively filled medicine basket for a particular bottle, plucking two pills from it. Dabi set about making the angriest miso soup Kurogiri has ever witnessed. Magne busied herself with tea, because apparently the water wouldn’t be enough.

When the three of them were ready, they all ventured to Tomura’s room. Kurogiri tried not to worry too much. Some food and water? That’s all? Compress did grab some medicine—but not much at all! He trusted his colleagues, but he wouldn’t leave Tomura’s health to anyone else so confidently. Tomura has always had a poor constitution. Kurogiri resolved to check on the boy later discreetly, when the others’ feelings couldn’t be hurt.

When he went up to Tomura’s room that night, he was stunned to see the boy peacefully tapping away on his “switch” that he normally avoided in sickness because of eye aches and nausea. When Kurogiri asked after his health, Tomura had no response beyond a grunt of affirmation. He had healed… within a day? That had never happened before, not once! What sort of sorcery was this?

When he expressed his bafflement to Compress from the other side of the bar counter, the magician only laughed and patted his arm again. “You worry too much,” he said with what sounded like a grin. “Heaven only knows what quack doctor told you to get all of that other stuff! Some water and medicine every few hours can kick even the worst of sickness.” When Kurogiri was still confused, Compress tilted his head. “Haven’t you ever fallen ill? Toughed out a cold with some cough syrup?”

When Kurogiri still did not answer, the magician sighed. “You are a mystery, my dear,” he said ruefully.

Kurogiri felt the silliest he had in a while.

[see-arcane]

I am almost fine with people saying he has one brain cell, because I have seen dozens of people make the worse claim that he is "an arrogant, smug, proud of his rationality Victorian who laughs at the locals for their superstitions."

It is such a prevalent assesment that it's now considered a core character trait of his. When today's entry indicates nothing of the sort.

UH OH, YOU’VE ACTIVATED MY TANGENT CARD

(Text Brick Incoming)

Jonathan’s fundamental flaw at this stage does involve looking down on or viewing the locals and their traditions as quaint/idolatrous/ridiculous et al. He uses poor terminology too, owing to the Doylist reason of his author’s knowledge and biases, while the Watsonian reason is easy enough to read as Jonathan 1) Having to rely solely on biased/incomplete knowledge from his homeland’s writings on the place and 2) What I think is him trying to overcompensate as a trained reflex

I’ve always pictured Jonathan and Mina as having not only a lower social and monetary standing, but possibly a hindrance of race. (Case in point, I suspect a certain unique prop Jonathan brandishes later on is something he inherited, not something picked up by happenstance.)

That said—they are poor, they are not the idealized picture of the fair English Citizen…but they are both polite, charming, hardworking, and masters of ~making friends~ as a defense mechanism. And I’d bet money that included relying on what few positive nods their peers allowed.

“You’re so nice! So industrious! Your physiognomy really counters your origins! And you are wise enough to look down on those silly foreigners, aren’t you? Of course you are! You’re one of the good ones.”

Now, regardless of what headcanon is landed on as far as race/ethnicity/other backgrounds go, those last points are key. Because they go towards Being a Good Englishman/woman. Being wiser than to buy into fretting non-English superstitions. Knowing to ogle the people of other lands like curiosities in a zoo. Judging people by their face or the shape of their skull. This is the Norm. This is Good of the Victorian Englishman Abroad.

And we see Jonathan hold to all these stereotypes…to a degree. But we see within these same early entries that his instincts and general good nature chafe against that social training. He’s too much himself to do entirely as a Proper Englishman should.

He went out of his way to study all the limited info he had access to, incomplete or half-informed as it was. He delighted in learning everything he could of the places and people as he traveled, wanting to embrace and be educated on the land. And even when a lifetime of advising against it, of insistence upon derision, tried to take over when the crucifix was offered? He still accepted it. He still wears it even when the old woman departs, whether or not he believes in its importance.

And, vitally, his instincts are very Very awake to the fact that Something is Off. A Proper Englishman (and many an oblivious or stubborn dad in a ghostly horror movie) would shrug this unease off at once. But Jonathan doesn’t. He remains on Dracula’s route only because he has no other choice. All he does is mention quietly that he hopes Mina gets his diary if he happens to die on this journey.

Imagine that. Bracing for and acknowledging the sense that You Might Die on This Little Business Trip and just…having to go along with it. Because what will you tell your boss otherwise? What will you tell your fiancée?

These aren’t the concerns of a well-off stuffy snob of a man. It’s the resignation of someone who understands they live on the lowest rung of the ladder and that they will risk losing what little progress they’ve made if they dare to turn back.

As for sneering at the locals’ superstitions, period, consider: How likely would anyone really be to suddenly believe in monsters after coming out of the background Jonathan has? What could possibly have convinced him of the reality of the situation OTHER THAN SEEING IT IN PERSON? (Note, a key plot point for certain other characters later!)

The point of his being unable to take the supernatural aspect at face value is that, well, Why Would Anyone Immediately Jump to a Supernatural Conclusion in His Place?

What possible context does he have here!? Maybe he should have read Dracula first, ha ha—

Oh wait. He can’t do that. Why?

Because this man has never read Dracula BECAUSE HE IS LIVING AND WRITING THE BOOK DRACULA!!

Anyway.

tl;dr: I am very tired of both the Stuffy Victorian Snobprick and Oblivious Idiotbaby takes on my good friend Jonathan Harker

[buggy-blocks]

Why is no one talking about Joel being the last green? Even if it was only for a minute I’m literally so proud of him

AND THAT DOUBLE KILL WAS INSANE STOP RN

[bigboobyhalo]

I love bad and foolish’s like. trolling etiquette.

just thinking about l’sandburg… like, bad never destroyed a single block of foolish’s actual builds and always made sure his pranks could be cleaned up, and foolish always left bad’s pranks up for a reasonable time relative to how long the prank must have taken (like building l’cactusburg took a lot of cactus farming and foolish left it up for a WHILE)

I don’t know, I guess I’m saying that they’re a really good duo in this regard

[renison-truther]

Thinking about how confident Betsy was that she could fix Aaron and Andrew’s relationship. She’d been treating Andrew for over a year and she knew, whether he had told her explicitly or not, that he desperately wanted to have a relationship with his brother. And she knew if she had the chance that she could help him repair that relationship.

[dykemcqueen]

normal. normal. feeling normal about them