#what i have to do to get it back) is like. zero. but anyways i have to go to college without a phone

[bluedeedeedoop]

Alright! My Andor thoughts and a bit of a wild take of mine.

but to be honest, it shouldn't be considered a wild take.

(kind of spoilers under the cut?)

The people who say that Andor is boring, dull, too wordy, uninteresting, etc. are essentially outing themself for having 0 media literacy and comprehension skills.

You can not like the show, i'm not saying you can't, it can genuinely not be your thing and that's okay; but to outright say it's bad with zero genuine reasoning as to why you think that and then take the time to complain about it anyway, you're just setting yourself up at this point.

Along that note:

You can have your own opinions about whatever you want, but at the same time I feel as if we need to factor in some media literacy with this guys.. I thought it was common sense that a franchise practically about fighting fascists and fascism as a whole was going to include the good, the bad, AND the ugly. Meaning: darker themes were and are a major possibility. Andor itself was never shy about bringing up the intensity and crushing devastations that was brought along with the empire!

I recently saw a post but it was soon deleted, but I got the gist of it so i will quote what I recall.

Andor season 1 had horrific torture scenes, prison labor death camps, lynching, stalking, murder, bombings, you fucking name it. but the moment that there's a scene that depicts sexual violence, that being something that women ESPECIALLY undocumented women are at risk of, it's suddenly too dark?

I think it's important to address these types of issues in media in order to bring awareness to the severity of it! Not to mention it's quite literally happening as we speak!! Andor season 2 is ON THE DOT to bringing up real issues that are happening today, planet destruction, immigration abuse, immigrant violence, cmon guys! Do we just not like getting told what's happening right in front of us? And as for a supposed line being crossed with the Star wars franchise since sexual violence was brought up, when and where did we even draw that supposed line? was it with the child murder and child abduction? the genocide? the discriminatory violence? slavery? war crimes? murder? Honestly, that statement is so ironic on such an astronomical level that it's insane.

Yes, it is extremely distressing, and I think it's fair to assume everyone watching the scene with Bix and the officer felt absolutely sick to their stomach and that reaction is completely valid and non-negotiable.

However, that doesn't give us a reason to dismiss it. Could it have used a warning? Probably, but like I said before, Andor has never been shy about discussing intense issues in a series about political war and violence, so I feel like it's important to go into it already expecting dark topics. They have made it very clear that they aren't holding back. Do people think we enjoyed watching that extremely distressing scene? That we're happy that it was included? What, that everyone is cheering because someone said the word rape? If that's your take away from seeing everyone's reactions to it, that is quite literally, again, a media literacy issue.

And in my opinion, I think it's powerful to bring awareness to it in Andor since so many people can easily dismiss this type of thing in every day news, but not when it's in their fictional media. Now it's uncomfortable; now it's present.

Yes, Star Wars is an escapism for MANY but let me say this; Escapism does not equal ignorance.

Be as mad about the reality shown in Andor as much as you want, but don't go saying that Star wars "took it too far" because as I stated before, how far is too far?

And before people go throwing fits, AGAIN; i'm not saying you're not allowed to dislike Andor! Literally like and dislike whatever you want; I am simply stating and pointing out the irony and hypocrisy of many statements and arguments i've seen online so far.

[goodlucktai]

hold the world to its best (5/?)

rottmnt word count: 2k pairing: raph & OC title borrowed from light by sleeping at last part of the archer au

(prev) (next)

x

Gio is by no means a chatterbox. 

His pattern of speech is the same as when he’s nineteen years old, littered with careful pauses, slow to string words together. He tacks on ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ at the end of everything like someone is waiting around the corner to grade him on his manners. He visibly overthinks it every time he opens his mouth to say anything at all. 

If Raph had a dollar for every time Gio looked up at him to make sure it was okay for him to speak, he’d have enough money to buy the state of New York by the end of the week. And he can’t think about why that is, because then anger and hurt and a wailing sense of unfairness that feels like a little kid stomping their feet shouting ‘no no no!’ will swell inside him until he has to do something with all of it, like break a wall. And he can’t break a wall because that would scare the baby. So he can’t think about it. 

But Gio doesn’t need any prompting or encouragement when Splinter comes home from a last-minute run to Stop & Shop. There’s supposed to be a storm tonight, and traveling through flooded tunnels is no one’s idea of a good time, especially not with groceries for a family of eight. 

“Someone needs to go unpack the car so all of you must roshambo for it,” Splinter announces by way of hello. 

Everyone else groans but Gio perks right up. He squirms down from the sofa and runs to greet dad with uppy arms and a hopeful, “Papa.” 

A direct hit. The old rat has to take a knee. Not even the Shredder was enough to defeat the former Battle Nexus champion, but a two foot tall baby turtle is another story. 

“Hello my little one,” Splinter chokes out, scooping the spotted turtle right up. “Ah, I have not been welcomed home like this in many years. It’s enough to make an old man nostalgic. Thank you, Gray.”

“Appliance store commercials make you nostalgic,” Donnie says without looking up from his phone. 

“If you tried to pick one of us up like that you’d pull something,” Leo adds. 

“And thank you my obnoxious blueberries,” Splinter says, still in his baby-turtle-voice but with a narrow look over Gio’s head at the peanut gallery that implies they’d both get whacked with his tail if they were within reach. 

Pops must be feeling nostalgic if he’s breaking out that childhood nickname for the twins. Leo was the blue and Donnie was the berry from the ages of zero to about nine, when they had decided they’d outgrown it. Now Donnie looks incredulous and Leo looks deeply embarrassed, like a couple of kids whose mom is blowing kisses at them out the car window in front of all their friends. It has the additional effect of shutting them right up, which might have been what Splinter intended in the first place. Raph is adding that to his arsenal for a rainy day. 

Gio is too well-mannered to demand dad’s attention back like all the rest of his spoiled siblings would have done, but his eyes are big and lamp-like, and he’s wringing his hands against his plastron like someone five times his age, and it gives him away anyway. 

“What’s up, buttercup?” Mikey chirps, swinging around to hang off Splinter’s back and hook his chin over the rat’s shoulder. 

“Gray,” Gio says carefully. Then he points to himself, and does the question-mark wiggle with his pointer finger. Me?

“Yes, you!” Mikey leans over even further to poke Gio’s beak playfully. Splinter is fully supporting the weight of two of his kids at this point, one significantly heavier than the other. “It’s a nickname! We all have them. You’re Spot, and Gray, and Georgie. And Georgathan and Gregory and Jorge and—”

“Point made, Michael,” Donnie says flatly, because he really will just keep going. 

Mirror neurons in full-effect, Gio smiles at Mikey’s smile. Then he fingerspells C-L-E-M and points to himself again. 

“‘Clem’?” Mikey sounds it aloud. “Is that you?”

Gio nods with his fist, and what little expression they’ve coaxed out of him over the last couple of days is evaporating by the second, leaving behind that neutral-faced toddler they first met. Mikey clocks it and straightens, bracing his hands on Splinter’s shoulder to glance over his head at Raph, brow wrinkling beneath his mask. 

Raph, for his part, is marveling at the fact that it has literally never occurred to him to wonder about where the name “Giorgio” came from. Gio told them that he didn’t grow up with them in the future—that he spent the bulk of his childhood in another dimension before making his way back to the one he belonged in. What are the odds that Gio had a matching name before he knew he was part of a set? Obviously he must have been called something else before. 

Donnie is frowning thunderously. When he shoots a sideways look at Leo and raises his eyebrows, Leo only grimaces back in answer, both of them clearly on the same page and not loving what they’ve found there.

“Share with the class, you two,” Raph says for the millionth time in his life, stamping down an ancient annoyance. They claim not to have twin telepathy and then have entire conversations without saying a word. Who are they trying to fool?

“Ugh,” Donnie says. He looks and sounds disgruntled, like he hasn’t decided how upset he needs to be yet but he’s leaning towards ‘very.’ ��Clem—I said it earlier, didn’t I? Clemmys guttata. The scientific name for spotted turtles. It’s like if my name was Pel, short for Pelodiscus sinensis. No individuality, no character, no dynamism.”

Splinter’s tail lashes, agitated. “You all had tags on your shells when you were just babies. I kept them because it was the closest thing to a birth certificate I was likely to ever have. They included information such as your weights and sizes, your approximate time of hatching, as well as your genus and species. I still have them in a shoebox somewhere.”

So whoever found baby Georgie after the portal separated him from his family must have seen that tag. They must not have realized that it was the classification of what, not who, he was. 

Raph kind of hates that, actually. Even pets are given names. 

But he also hates the way Gio is getting nervous, making himself smaller where he’s tucked in the crook of Splinter’s arm, like he did something wrong by bringing it up. 

So he steps over and crouches down the way he’s gotten in the habit of doing with his baby-fied older brother. Splinter helps him out by turning slightly so that Gio and Raph are face to face. 

Gio tucks his chin slightly, and it would be easy to mistake the gesture for timid, but Raph knows better. For a second, Gio’s older self shines through. 

The kid isn’t even wringing his hands anymore, just clasping them so tightly it’s causing his dark gray-green skin to blanch. He’s watching his biggest brother with those archer eyes that miss absolutely nothing. He’s prepared for Raph to be angry with him, even though all he’s done is ask a simple question, even though Raph hasn’t so much as frowned at him once. 

Raph cannot break a wall, he reminds himself sternly. 

“Hey, big guy,” Raph says, smiling his biggest and warmest smile. “I’m sorry, it must have been pretty confusing, all of us calling you by some name you didn’t know. Do you want us to call you Clem instead?”

None of them would like doing it, but Gio’s comfort is more important than how the rest of them feel about a name he used to go by. It’s temporary, and Raph’s bratty little brothers will do as they’re told for once, or he’s putting them in air jail. All of them, air jail. 

But Gio shakes his head fast. He signs ‘no,’ too, touching his fingers to his thumb. 

“No, please,” he adds for good measure. “I want to be Gio.”

“Gio it is,” Raph says firmly. 

Mikey plants both his hands on Raph’s left shoulder and pushes with all his might. Raph doesn’t move, but Splinter is propelled a step backwards. Mikey uses the space he created to flip over dad and land nimbly in front of him and scoop the baby out of his arms. 

Gio doesn’t react beyond an initial widening of his eyes. A few days of constant exposure to Michelangelo has acclimated even the most cautious child in the world to his whimsy and enthusiasm. When Mikey smushes their cheeks together, Gio even smiles. 

“Do you like bananas?” Mikey asks solemnly. 

“Yes,” Gio says. 

“Do you like cake?”

“Yes,” their resident sweet-addict says unremarkably, like that isn’t the understatement of all time. Leo makes an incredulous scoffing noise, a laugh that’s trying not to start. He’s probably thinking of the same thing Raph is, which is the time Gio ate six red velvet cupcakes in one sitting and called it breakfast with a straight face. 

“Did you know I made a banana split cake for dessert?” Mikey whispers conspiratorially. “It’s almost ready to eat—I just need someone to help me add all the sprinkles on top.”

“I can help,” Gio says earnestly, leaning away to look up at Mikey with big brown eyes. Every person in the room would give him anything he wants, no exceptions, but probably the only thing he wants now in the whole entire world is to help with the sprinkles. 

“Aw, Georgie, I knew I could count on you! Helper gets first dibs, so let’s go make sure you get the best piece!”

Raph drags Leo with him to go haul in the groceries. Leo complains about it while in earshot of everyone else, but he doesn’t actually hate one-on-one time with his second-oldest brother. He loves it, actually. He just has to put on a show for no one’s benefit but his own for reasons that are a mystery to everyone but himself. If Raph would have remembered that in those tumultuous months leading up to the invasion, he would have saved himself a lot of grief. 

For now it’s enough to trip Leo and then run ahead of him, hearing the initial startled squawk melt into a competitive cackle and bracing for the weight of a little brother that lands on Raph’s shell moments later. 

Even with the ability to portal back and forth, it makes sense to two teenagers to precariously amass all the shopping bags at once and make a single trip. There’s a paper produce bag of tomatoes that almost doesn’t make it, and would have tipped out all over the kitchen floor if not for the quick save of Mikey’s sunshine-golden magic catch. 

“You boys are too silly for your own good,” Splinter grumps without heat, but he pats Raphael’s arm fondly before elbowing his way through the kitchen toward the fridge. 

Gio is sitting on the edge of the counter, kicking his feet idly and eating maraschino cherries out of the jar that Mikey left unattended. Donnie is leaning against the island beside him, pretending to be absorbed with his phone, but coincidentally within reach if a certain toddler were to slip and fall or start choking. 

Donnie is also, as far as Gio is concerned, the answers guy. He reaches out one pink-stained hand and pats Donnie’s arm very gently. Donnie, who would have no less than twenty things to say to anyone else who dared touch him with cherry fingers, each more scalding than the last, simply says, “Yes, George?”

“What is he like?” Gio asks. 

“Who?”

“Gio,” he says. 

Donnie blinks and sets his phone down. “What are you like? Oh—your older self, you mean?” Gio hesitates, but ultimately nods, and Donnie hums thoughtfully. “How best to describe Hamato Giorgio. A conundrum.”

“He’s so cool,” Mikey pipes up, with a shit-eating glance at Leo. They have newly reached a point in their lives where it’s tentatively okay to make jokes about certain aspects of the day the world almost ended, depending on the joke. Leo’s early-onset hero worship of the long-lost Kraang-killing brother who’d brought him home that day is always okay to joke about, because Leo isn’t teased until he’s red in the face and sinking into his shell nearly enough. 

Leo scowls and shoves a carton of eggs at Mikey for him to put away, but noticeably does not refute the statement. 

“He’s a tank,” Raph adds, smiling automatically when Gio’s big dark eyes find him. “Steady as a rock, rolls with the punches. When he gets knocked down, he doesn’t stay down for long.”

“Proficient at his chosen craft,” Donnie says. “The tool he uses requires precision, focus, and hand-eye coordination, often in the middle of confusing or frenetic situations. But he never misses.”

“And he’s nice,” Mikey says, exchanging the jar of cherries in Gio’s hand for a can of cool whip. Gio holds it and has no idea what to do with it, so Mikey forms his fingers around the nozzle and presses, giggling at Gio’s surprised jump. He directs the baby turtle to the dessert dish, and as meticulous as he usually is with his cooking, he lets Gio apply the whipped topping the way he lets his brothers add color to his spray paint murals—as if each clumsy pass and crooked line is a worthwhile addition to his art. He beams every time Gio glances up to make sure he’s doing it right, so warm and bright and indulgent that it’s almost hard to believe he’s been the baby of the family all along. “He always has time for us, day and night. If we need something, he’ll get it. No questions asked,” Mikey goes on.

“Even if maybe a question or two should be asked,” Splinter mutters, likely having a flashback of the absurdly big tuna fish Gio had once brought home after Mikey made a passing remark about wishing he had the means to make sushi for lunch. They had nowhere to put it. They ate sushi for days. But Mikey had squealed with delight when he saw it, which made every single thing anyone else had to say about it a moot point to Giorgio.

“He’s our big brother, and he’s the best,” Leo says, folding his arms on the counter. “Hey, can I get some of that?” He leans over and opens his mouth, and Gio blinks at him, and then down at the can in his hands, and then attempts to apply whipped cream to Leo’s face. Some of it makes it into his mouth, but most doesn’t. Leo laughs, silly and sweet, before it even occurs to Gio to worry that he’ll get scolded, and wipes the errant cream into his mouth with his thumb. “We love him to pieces, and he loves us, too. It’s a good deal all around. Everybody wins.”

Gio gazes up at him, searching his face for something. He nods, and smiles back, and then giggles when Leo scoops some whipped cream out of the dish and smears it onto his nose—at which point Mikey declares Leo banned from dessert prep and Leo says, “Oh, big words from Mr. Eats-Peanut-Butter-With-His-Fingers,” and Donnie picks up both Gio and the discarded cherry jar and relocates the three of them to the other side of the island, out of the line of fire. 

Gio opts to stay in Donnie’s lap rather than return to his seat on the counter. Donnie looks down at the top of his head, but if he’s surprised he doesn’t show it. As all big turtles are wont to do with smaller ones, Donnie will hold him for as long as he wants to be held. 

From the way Gio’s sticky hands clutch Donnie’s arm, as if he might lose it if he doesn’t hold on, that’s one universal truth he hasn’t learned yet.

[batsandbirdbrains]

So anyways also think the “red hooded ninja” was vastly under utilized in yj so-

The one where Dick brings Jason and Damian home

I also have no idea how old Jason was supposed to be in yj so for the sake of this AU lets make him like 2 years younger than Dick (so they’re 19 and 17 - Jason died when he was 15ish?). And also Damian is going to be 5 instead of a baby.

After the invasion, Nightwing basically goes missing. No one has heard from him in or out of the mask in months, Batman admits to having a falling out with him shortly after the invasion, and several other members of the team (including Tim) admit to giving him a hard time and essentially telling him to get lost and they wanted nothing to do with him.

And now eight months later, everyone is shitting bricks realizing they fucked up and have no clue what happened to their friend.

Pretty much everyone is involved in some way in trying to find out where he is or what happened to him. It takes a couple weeks, but eventually they find videos of him meeting Ra’s al Ghul. And he looks so bad in the videos, he looks so depressed and run down and like a strong wind could blow him over. And Ra’s is smiling at him, putting a hand on his shoulder, talking softly with him and looking every part the encouraging grandfather.

And imagine if it was Dick who was Kaldur’s backup instead of Artemis. Dick who went undercover as Renegade, Deathstroke’s Apprentice, while also still running the team and going out as Batman in Gotham so no one knew Batman wasn’t around. Because Artemis hadn’t wanted to go back, had put her foot down and said no, and Dick ran out of options.

And they realize, going over footage and pictures from around the time the invasion started coming to an end, that Dick looked so ragged. He was so tired, so exhausted, so defeated looking. And then they remember how Deathstroke treated him, how much he demanded of him, how he often trained with the Shadows before coming back and being Nightwing with zero downtime. It’s a wonder he didn’t have a nervous breakdown.

Except maybe he did, because now they’re watching videos that look suspiciously like Ra’s al Ghul picking up the pieces. He always was an opportunist, and to be able to snag Batman’s number one protege? How could he pass it up?

And while the team and the justice league are running around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to figure out how to get Nightwing back, how they’re going to de-program him from whatever brainwashing Ra’s al Ghul must’ve done to get him to join the shadows, Nightwing is already executing his own plan.

Because while he was working with Deathstroke, he came across a very peculiar recruit on Infinity Island. One who called him Dickhead, one who moved so familiarly, one who reminded him an awful lot of the brother he sometimes hallucinates standing behind him to yell at him about how everything is his fault.

And then he came across another very intriguing child. One who looks like Bruce, but speaks like Talia. One who actually smiled when he realized Dick would be the one to help him with his training for the day.

And Dick couldn’t just leave them there. He’d planned on coming back with the League, but then everyone turned on him, and he had to change tactics.

And if Ra’s had maybe gotten in his head a bit, if the plan got postponed a couple times because Dick found he actually kind of thrived under his tutelage and guidance and comforting words, if Talia maybe was actually kind of nice to him and called him Damian’s brother from the beginning and it made Dick’s chest tighten, well then no one had to know.

It took him eight months, but eventually he’s close enough to Damian and Jason’s memories are mostly all back, and they go with him without Dick having to even convince them. They want away from the Shadows. They want to go with Dick.

So when Dick uses an override code he’s shocked still works to get them up on the Watchtower about a week after escaping the island, everyone stands frozen and stares at them. They’re wearing clothes from the Shadows, but Dick is holding Damian tight against him, and Jason’s face is clear for everyone to see. No one speaks. No one moves.

Until Dick locks eyes with Batman and lets out a nervous laugh.

“Surprise,” he says slowly, “it’s a boy.”

It’s still silent. Until Damian looks Batman up and down, then turns back to Dick and wraps his arms around his neck and says with a frown, “I thought you said Father would be taller.”

And Dick gapes for a moment before he shares a look with Jason, and the two are cracking up, leaning against each other, Damian confused at their reaction but smiling with them.

[edutainer2022]

The issue of power dynamics and adjustments after Jeff's return opens infinite possibilities (for angst). Jeff's idea of picking up where he left off might be less simple or even feasible. Scott literally spoke in my head through this one and John chimed in. Jeff gets an earful and needs to think.

Many thanks go to @janetm74

IN STRIDE

"May I remind you, Bluejay, I built the whole gig from the bottom up! I know how it operates. There's no need for triple reporting - it's a waste of time!"

"With all due respect, you don't, Dad."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't know how IR operates. Not anymore. You weren't there."

"Through no fault of mine!"

"True. It was MY fault. I take full responsibility. You weren't there when I negotiated new parameters with the GDF and the World Council. I was not the First Man on Mars they could trust implicitly. I was NOTHING to them. I realize I'm nothing beyond your shadow, but that's not the point! You were GONE, Dad. Uncle Lee left. Kyrano resigned. Aunt Val got promoted. There was no active duty GDF officer on the IR roster anymore. There was NO roster till Virgil and John completed training and Gordon graduated high school. I'm still a downed washout for your old buddies in the Airforce. I can live with that. But I will NOT jeopardize what IR is now, the reach and freedom we're given on the off chance the GDF brass will extend you the benefit of the doubt unconditionally again. You were on six IR missions total, Dad. Zero failure rate. The triple reporting is what keeps us in the game when the worst comes to the worst. Without it we wouldn't be allowed to lift off the ground. It keeps the boys and Kayo safe from liability!"

"But not you?"

"That's part of the deal with the GDF. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

"Scott!"

"Dad, don't. Let Virgil handle it. Trust me."

"How bad?"

"When?"

"There's a scale?"

"Oh yeah, Dad! You have no idea!"

"I obviously don't. Okay, then. Right after?"

"Right after you were gone? Nosedive."

"Oh..."

"The stocks plummeted, the markets were in shambles, the Board all but rioted. Scott had to hold that up - at a point we didn't have the extra funds to run IR anyway. Then there was the GDF issue. They tried to strongarm Scott into handing the Thunderbirds and the Base over, instead of appointing operatives. Scott refused. We stood down for a couple of years. There were issues with the Tinies' custody anyway. The island was deemed "inaccessible to child services". Scott was needed in NYC and Alan stayed with him through middle school. It was better for Gordie's Olympics training to be Stateside as well. Virgil finished up his degree and I was in England, prepping for the ISA stint."

"And then?"

"Dad, you alright? You seem pale!"

"I'm okay, Johnny. Go on!"

"Well... then the waves settled a bit. The company was not belly up anymore, on the contrary. Scott got a hang of it. We could fully fund IR without the Global Council or GDF input, including launching Five. Virgil and I were fully trained. Once Gordie won the medal we had a specialized Aquanaut too. Kayo finished school and Kyrano sent her over to supervize security. Brains was on board. Scott fought tooth and nail for the Big Wigs to let him helm the op independently. Like he just told you - we still needed to make concessions on reporting. I'm not gonna lie, Dad, they ARE keeping Scott in a chokehold. The hardest part was to convince Scott to pull Allie into homeschooling. He wanted the kid to have a normal life. We tried launching from Gran Roca, but the island is just so much more suitable. So to keep the child services off Scott's back we asked Grandma to move in. You know the rest, more or less. The Hood came back, we found the signal, then we found you."

"I need to talk to Scott!"

"You do. But not right now, Dad. Let Virgil deal with him first."

"That happens a lot?"

"We got our routine."

"So you're wrangling your Old Man?"

"Maybe."

"I left a mess behind, didn't I?"

"You're back now, Dad. Talk to Scott. You both need it!"

[goldensunset]

in general i roll my eyes at people who complain about all the new quality of life improvements in modern pokémon games bc inconvenience and genuine challenge are two very different things. but the one thing i would definitely agree on that i don’t like in sv is the ability to access your pc boxes any time. it sort of cheapens the experience of having to carefully choose which six pokémon you’re taking before venturing into unknown danger. like i don’t think you should be able to catch a pokémon in the depths of area zero and immediately put it in your party i think you gotta be loyal to whoever you took initially. it’s about being forced to have a plan for all outcomes

[flovoid]

WTH. SINCE WHEN I REACHED 1K FOLLOWERS IN SIMBLR WHAT-

[fluffydeoxys]

the urge to talk about OCs unfiltered superseded by various degrees of shame and the overwhelming internal voice of booooo be quiet (throws tomato)

[theygender]

I wish I could just play video games all day as my job bc I have so many things I wish I could do like playing all 19 mainline Final Fantasy games in order. Unfortunately I would never be able to attract a big enough audience to make a living though because I would be doing things like playing all 19 mainline Final Fantasy games in order

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Was thinking again about Montceratops earlier and how fucking Normal it would be for Roxy to have found another fucking missing animatronic by that point. Like okay cool. Another one. This one is how old??? Aight... okay then. That's a new record I think...

Roxy and Cassie's dad asking for help for Montceratops at this point is like "let me guess. Roxy found a new friend." and it's not even a question. They don't have any idea what the fuck she's found this time but they see Cassie's dad walk in like "hey so uh. You wanna maybe prep the cylinder?" for the very first time asking the other techs for help and they just fucking know Roxy's found some old fucked up lil guy in the god knows where lmao

They learned from the dinosaurs, the chicken, the duck, the Eclipse and the fucking herd of horses that Roxy wasn't gonna get in real trouble for any of this shit. At this point? Yeah they might as well-WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S A FUCKING DINOMONTY?! WHAT THE FUCK????

[airenyah]

it's really funny seeing everyone salty posts about the hidden agenda finale and i actually agree with everyone but the thing is!!!! i'm just vibing!!!!

i went into this show with absolutely ZERO expectations (and in fact, i would have been extremely surprised if this show ended up being actually good dkfjkfddf), i've never given a single shit about the plot and/or the writing bc i came here for the joongdunk vibes and the joongdunk vibes alone and i had a blast watching this series

like, i'm not even gonna bother criticising this drama bc from the beginning i didn't expect it to be very impressive anyway and so i'll just keep sitting here in my pile of garbage and vibing with it <3333

[starlooove]

When ppl talk about customer service workers being dehumanized it’s not even the insane freakouts it’s the lack of personal space that pisses me off

[orcelito]

Sometimes I get the urge to be like "Well, they can't live forever" when it comes to shitty situations with shitty people. But then I remember that A: shitty person dying might not be the result that someone wants, and B: it actually can take quite a while for people to die, in many cases

Idk I'm just so used to death being right around the corner that I'm like "Well maybe he'll die soon and that'll fix it" but he probably won't die that soon and it also might not fix it. Or be wanted.

Idk it's such a specific mentality that I have now. People can die with such short notice that you Never Know! The solution to all your problems may be short at hand. You never know.

[keeps-ache]

need to be exploding something but i Can't for some reason. just Can Not. my ability to do is just. Nay

[bibiana112]

There's nothing wrong with people having their dearest most specialest blorbo be Eric ztd it is unironically good for the ecosystem and I always love seeing the different perspectives from other fans but what I am here today to ask is why is no one like that about Mira. whatever happened to feminism.

[kavehayati]

I cannot fathom the level of self importance some people must have to behave this way