#wow they would hurt someone

[buster-loves-pr]

man I realize how much Yellow VS Pink episodes in Power rangers

-Trini and Kimberly over the club

-Cassie and Ashley over cleaning

-Kendrix and Maya over Damon’s cake

-Dana and Kelsey over the whole model job

-Emma and Gia over.. (I mean that one was a spell so)

Man Saban sure liked making the yellows and Pinks fight

[quietwingsinthesky]

i hope in future multidoctor crossovers that ten and thirteen both get lumped into being the emo phase doctors. embarrassing cringe ass emotionally constipated idiots. putting them at their own table in a corner while the other doctors judge them about it (<- also so terrible at emotions but at least theyre subtle about it.) theyre both pouting, bundled up in the giant coats, refusing to acknowledge each other.

[jay-wasreblogging]

When someone says JohnLock is canon in *insert adaptation* but it's just one-sided, unrequited love johnlock

[moeblob]

Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.

Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.

[kil9]

everyone agrees that the patriarchy teaches men to hide their emotions, and that this is a bad thing, so why is it that when men actually show an emotion everyone jumps to call him an abuser or manipulator or whatever :\

[youngpettyqueen]

ummm um fic recs….in a horrible turn of events garak and bashir have to babysit the ds9 kids?

ive been wracking my brains over how Garak and Julian would end up babysitting a bunch of the kids and I had a hard time figuring out something that would work with Jake and Nog, since theyre older and dont really need a babysitter, so I went with them babysitting Molly and Yoshi! I hope that's alright <3

Garak isn't sure what to expect when he the door to the O'Briens quarters slides open. All he knows is that Julian told him to come, and his only answer to Garak's many questions was to repeat himself with a don't ask just do it tone.

So, Garak had. He'd come. In the middle of the work day, something he's not planning on letting the Doctor forget. He'd come, and he steps inside as the door slides open, and he doesn't know what he was expecting to find here, but it certainly wasn't... this.

Julian is sitting on the floor by the coffee table, the infant Kirayoshi cradled securely in one arm. He also has what appears to be a plastic crown on his head, which is several sizes too small, and perches awkwardly atop his hair. The older of the O'Brien offspring, Molly, is sitting beside him, in what Garak would guess is a human princess costume, all shiny fabric and very, very pink.

Garak comes to pause, considering the scene before him. There are little plastic teacups and plates set out. A few larger plush toys are also around the table, with teacups and plates of their own. It's quite the little set up.

"Good morning, Doctor. Molly," He greets, turning a quizzical raised brow on Julian, "Might I ask why I was called here?"

Julian gives him a look that is very, very tired. "Good morning, Mr. Garak," He replies, "You were called here because you have been invited to Princess Molly's tea party." He informs him.

"Tea party?" Garak echoes.

"I'll explain later," Julian tells him, "Just come sit." He gestures to an open space at the other end of the coffee table.

"Wait!" Molly pipes up, quickly standing. Julian winces at her volume, quietly shushing her as he looks at Kirayoshi, who appears to be sleeping. Garak turns his attention to the child, who holds her head up high and informs him, "You have to bow first."

Garak considers her for a moment. He catches Julian stop himself from laughing in the corner of his eye. Of course, Garak knows about royalty systems, so he knows what a princess is. And he can't imagine himself bowing to one, but Molly has a very stern look on her very little face, and he has a feeling he's in for a fight if he doesn't comply.

He bows. Dramatically, with a flourish. Molly giggles, and the sound is... pleasing.

"Thank you for the invitation, Princess," Garak bids her, continuing to play along as he straightens himself, "May I...?" He gestures to the open seat.

Molly, to his surprise, shakes her head. "Not there," She tells him, "You have to sit with Uncle Julian. Miss Flutterhooves will move." She gestures at the plush sitting on Julian's opposite side- an equine, if he remembers his Earth animals correctly, except this one is... purple, and it has a shiny silver horn protruding from its forehead.

He goes with it. Why not, at this point? He's clearly not getting out of this. "Of course," He says agreeable, stepping closer. Since the plush toy can't move, for obvious reasons, he gently picks it up, "Pardon me, Miss... Flutterhooves," He shoots Julian a quick glance, who nods approvingly, and he proceeds with moving the toy to the open spot at the end of table, and then going to take his own seat beside Julian. He shuffles in as much as possible, awkwardly crossing his legs and trying to keep his knees from tucking under the table, "There we are. This is... very lovely." He compliments as he settles into a somewhat-comfortable position.

"Very lovely," Julian agrees, looking at Molly, "You've done a wonderful job, Princess Molly."

Molly gives Julian a pleased little smile. "Thank you!" She squeaks. Then she suddenly perks up again, like she's heard something, "Oh! I have to go get the tea. It's done sleeping." She stands and, tucking up her skirts like a proper lady, she hurries off to go and... wake the tea, apparently.

"Steeping," Julian offers, as Garak gives him a confused look, "She means steeping."

Garak nods. That doesn't explain... anything else that's going on here. "Tea party?" He asks. Again.

"An old Earth game, of sorts," Julian replies, "Human children commonly pretend to hold tea parties, usually with their parents and their toys involved. Hence," He gestures around the table with his free hand, "All this."

"I see," Garak says, "And I was invited, why...?"

Julian suddenly won't make eye contact. "Molly insisted," He tells him, quick and clearly not the entire truth, "And I just got Kirayoshi to sleep for the first time all day, so I wasn't about to risk Molly getting upset and waking him," He does look at Garak again, this time with a surprising amount of desperation for a man sitting in front of a plastic teacup, with a plastic crown on his head, "He cried for three. Hours. Garak." He stresses each word, exhaustion and desperation oozing from every syllable.

Garak knows of the infant's tendency towards tears. He has no idea how Kirayoshi manages to wail for so long, considering how tiny his lungs are, but he's been able to hear the shrieking from across the promenade.

"I'm not sure the Chief would approve my being here," He points out, "Or Mrs. O'Brien, for that matter."

"I won't tell if you won't. Just play along," Julian implores him, "That's all I ask, just play along. Molly is very sweet, and also very stubborn, and I promise you I'll make it up to you if you just humour her." He's very nearly begging.

Garak has seen Julian less desperate in active crisis situations. He sighs, making a point to be melodramatic about it. "Very well, my dear," He agrees, "I suppose I can find it in myself to play along with the whims of a little girl. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Don't invite that on yourself," Julian warns, "You haven't seen her when she's cranky."

At that moment, Molly returns. In her hands she carries a teapot that matches her teacups, and she proudly brings it to the table and sets it down in the middle of everything. "Ta-da!" She announces, prompting Julian to gently shush her again, "Tea time!" She does not heed his shushing, "Want the first cup, Uncle Julian?" She asks, holding the pot out to him.

Just like that, Julian is smiling again. "I would love the first cup, Princess Molly," He says. He holds the teacup up, and it's comically small in his hand, "Thank you very much."

Molly tips the teapot forward. No actual tea comes out. Still, she holds it like that for a few seconds, before she tips it back. "There you go!" She chirps. Right, pretend. She turns her smile on Garak, and offers him the pot, "Tea?"

Garak delicately picks the teacup up by the handle, which he has to pinch between two claws. "I would be honoured," He says, laying it on thick. Molly pours the pretend tea into his cup, and he gives her his most winning smile, "Thank you, Princess."

Molly goes around the table, pouring tea for the other guests. Garak resists the urge to comment on the teapot apparently being bottomless, and instead glances at Julian. "Uncle Julian?" He questions, an amused smirk curling on his face.

"I'm her favourite uncle." Julian grins.

"I'm sure," Garak murmurs. Molly retakes her seat, and he turns to her, "Ah, Princess, allow me," He reaches across the table to take the teapot, and he pours her her own cup. He's not sure of the exact method to this, but he counts to 3 and then stops, and she looks satisfied, "Could I ask you a question, Princess?" He asks as he sits back, setting the pot down.

"First, cheers," Molly insists. She thrusts her cup up into the air, and Julian raises his, so Garak follows their lead. They clink their little teacups together- literally, "Clink!" She says.

"Clink." Julian echoes.

"Clink," Garak adds. Then Molly sips, and so does Julian, so he follows. When that's done, he inquires, "May I ask my question now?" Molly nods, and he smiles, "Ah, thank you. Yes, my question is, what made you invite me to the tea party, Princess Molly?"

Molly sets her teacup down. "For Uncle Julian." She replies.

Garak can see Julian looking pointedly away from him in his peripheral. "I see," He says, "And why was I invited for Uncle Julian?" He follows up.

"Cause you're married." Molly replies, like it's the most obvious thing in the Quadrant.

Julian chokes on nothing. Garak's eyes widen. "Married?" He echoes. He turns to Julian, who's gone a truly impressive shade of red, right up to the tips of his ears, "Married?" He repeats.

"Yeah!" Molly says, apparently an expert on the subject, "That's what grown-ups do when they're in love! Like my mommy and daddy. You," She points at Garak, "And Uncle Julian are in love, so you're married."

"She's 5." Julian hisses under his breath, just loud enough for Garak to hear.

Garak needs to take a deep breath. He's not often truly caught off guard, but that... he feels like he's just been knocked flat on his back. Alright. Married. He can go along with that. He's certainly gone along with far worse things.

Suddenly he understands Julian's exhaustion and desperation a few moments prior.

"Well, it was... very polite of you to invite me, Princess," He manages to get out, trying to slot back into his role here, "It's nice to spend time with my... husband." That makes Julian turn even redder. He looks like he's about to start glowing.

"Mommy and daddy wanted together-time today," Molly tells him, looking oh-so-serious for a girl of 5 years old, "So you and Uncle Julian probably want together-time, too. That's what married grown ups want." She explains.

Garak can't help but chuckle. "You're very wise," He says. Because she isn't... wrong. When it comes to him and Julian, at least, "I did want together-time with Uncle Julian today." He admits. They were supposed to see each other for lunch today, but then Julian got called away to babysit the O'Brien children, so it was to be rescheduled. And, soft as it makes him, those lunches are truly about... the only thing he looks forward to, so, yes. He did want together-time, as she put it, with Julian.

Molly glances at Julian, and then she leans over the table. "He did, too," She whispers, except it's very loud, and Julian can obviously hear her, "He told me he missed your lunchtime."

Garak glances at Julian, who's again very much not looking at him. He can't help but melt, just a bit, just enough to soften up. "Did he now?" He hums, "Well, that's alright. We have this tea party, don't we?" He puts his hand on the table, holding it out to Julian.

Julian looks at his hand. Then looks up at him, all round eyes and surprise. And then he smiles, all warm and affectionate. "That we do." He says, taking Garak's hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Ew," Molly pulls a face, "You're being gross like mommy and daddy."

Julian snorts a laugh. Garak chuckles. They let go of their hands and go back to their teacups, following Molly's lead as she sips at air again. Then she insists on refilling their cups, and they sit back and let her.

Julian's hand finds his on the floor. Garak takes it, brushes his thumb over Julian's knuckles. They exchange a private look, a small smile, Julian still red in the cheeks.

Maybe this isn't such a bad way to spend an afternoon, after all.

[whumpy-wyrms]

it’s 3am and i’ve spent the past few hours drawing a bunch of doodles of me and anton hanging out together like we’re the bestest of friends because it’s my art and i can draw whatever i want forever

[novadreii]

rewatched arrival for the hundredth time. this movie never fails to gut punch me with its approach to determinism. louise embracing her future that she knows every moment of, despite the tremendous loss and pain it contains, with open arms. she doesn't hesitate, or ruminate on how she can try and change it. she accepts it all, the good and the bad, because what she gains is worth it, so many times over for her. she steels herself against a certain future and runs forward to meet it all, to love, learn, and lose, and trusts and leans on herself to live through it all. because that's what life is; it's the joy and the suffering. to try and isolate the joy alone is madness, futility in its purest definition.

comparing her line of thinking to a palindrome (how she named her daughter, hannah), the movie kept emphasizing, "it's the same backwards as it is forwards." it doesn't matter if you can see the end; life is the same whether you live it "forwards" (without knowledge of the future) or "backwards" (with foresight). it doesn't change the significance of your life experiences; to try and avoid certain future pain just because you have the knowledge of it is a zero sum game. you think you win because you avoided pain, but you also avoided the joy that preceded it. the metamorphosis. so you still lose if you try to win, and vice-versa.

all you can do is rush forward and take it all head-on. see this whole beautiful mess as your one most precious gift; this one life, this one chance, a laughably miniature blip on the colossus that is linear time, to experience all there is to feel before you return back to an eternity without perception. it's all worth it, because only in living a full-fledged life open to everything it has to offer does the experience of living turn out to be greater than the sum of its parts; it's in trying to beat the system (avoid pain) that we actually lose.

"if you could see your whole life from start to finish, would you change things?"

"maybe i'd say what i feel more often. i...i don't know."

[reticent-fate]

part 11/26ish

anyone remember those scales with the springs in 'em? all i ever see these days are digital scales but those things made the best noises. i think i've seen some kitchen scales that still use spring mechanisms, but it's been a while.

technology is weird.

from the beginning

[druidonity2]

For The Alliance.

[scalproie]

my extremely corny and indulgent but satisfying and symbolic ideal scenario for Kazuya and Jin to fully Break The Cycle™️ would be for one of them to grab and save the other from falling off a great height. perhaps even a cliff.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

hm.

[livefromthegallows]

im gonna fucking throw up istg PAY ATTENTION TOO EMEEEEEEEE PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[crumbleclub]

one-shot for @lonelyfreddles dream theory revamp au, except i destroyed any semblance of a timeline to make this interaction possible

Footsteps fell quietly against shag carpet. The caution with which he carried himself was deeply ingrained; it told him to be smaller, quieter, and escape notice at every opportunity.

Sometimes, he wondered if his life depended on it.

Evan had one goal in mind: a cold glass of apple juice.

Father wasn't home. He hadn't been home all week, actually. Evan had been told ahead of time, for once; the man had rattled off something about a meeting, or a conference or... something, but his words hadn't made much sense. He'd been frazzled at the time; rambling and agitated, as he often was these days. The behavior was odd enough for Evan to note, but he knew better than to question William directly.

Normally, Evan and Michael would have been left home alone. They were old enough, after all. They'd been old enough for as long as Evan could remember.

This time was different, though; Henry was coming to look after them. It was a precaution, Father had said. He hadn't seemed very happy about it, and Evan didn't think it was his idea. It didn't matter, though; Henry was nice, and Evan hadn't seen him in a long time. He was happy to hear that the man would be around.

Michael hadn't been home for very long, yet. He'd only been in the hospital for a week or so, but he'd had to stay in another place for a few. Evan wasn't sure what it was actually called– Father had called it the looney bin, but he knew that wasn't right– but it hadn't seemed so bad when he'd gotten the chance to go visit. Mikey had seemed healthier there than he had in the hospital.

Evan had jumped at the chance to go see him. Of course he had. He needed to see him; to see that he was still real and still here. He didn't want his brother to die. Evan had been so scared when—

His hands were red the towels were red red red red the voice on the other line said to keep him awake they said they said—

Evan felt tears starting to well in his eyes, and he wiped at them with his sleeve. He didn't need to do this right now. He needed to get his drink first, and then he could go cry in his room. It felt good to cry, sometimes; to let things out, even if the kids at school teased him for it.

There was no use in getting rid of something that obviously helped. He'd just have to hide it as best as he could.

His steps continued again; past the grandfather clock, into the living room. He'd get his juice, go back to his room, and hang out there for a while. It was going to be fine; everything would be fine.

Michael hadn't scared him since he'd been back home; Evan thought it might have been because he still didn't feel very good. Why did Mikey want to die?

Still, Evan checked underneath the sofa; behind the TV.

No Michael.

He pressed on towards the kitchen, but stopped when he heard voices.

Evan recognized his brother's first. He heard Michael almost every day; his voice was higher than most men's, and accented, just like Father's. Unlike their dad's, though, Michael's voice was quiet, and he dragged his words. William's speech was much more clipped.

The other voice, low and clear, was Henry's.

"You can't keep acting like this, Michael."

"Yeah, well, why not?!"

Mikey wasn't quite shouting, but his voice was louder than normal. Was he in trouble?

Evan paused to listen.

"You know it doesn't help to keep egging him on like this."

Michael laughed, but something about it was wrong. The sound was short, sharp, and almost shaky. Evan thought he'd heard him laugh like that before, but he couldn't place where.

"There it is again. You know." There was a pause. "That's the worst part. You know exactly what he's like, and you don't do shit."

Evan wandered closer to the door; he wanted to hear what they were talking about.

"Michael..." Henry's sigh was barely audible from the other room, muffled through wood and paint. "Language."

His last remark felt strange. Evan furrowed his brow; he didn't think that had been what Henry really wanted to say.

"Fucking really?!"

Evan flinched back. Michael was angry.

He took a deep breath.

It was going to be okay. Mike wasn't angry with Evan; he didn't even know his younger brother was nearby. Nobody was going to hurt him, and everything was going to be fine.

Evan didn't think he'd ever seen Henry angry. He hoped he wouldn't snap and hurt Mike, the way that Father did. Evan hated that, even when Michael had been especially cruel to him. Something was wrong with the way it made his brother stiffen and cry, even when it was just words. Sometimes, Evan thought, the words hurt the worst.

"I'm just trying to keep things from getting any worse."

Henry's tone was insistent, but Michael was having none of it.

"Keep it from–" The teenager cut himself off, steadying his breath to keep from shouting. "You could have stopped it from happening in the first place, Uncle Henry."

He spat the man's name. Evan wasn't sure if he'd ever heard him sound so...

Evan didn't have a name for that emotion, he didn't think. It wasn't anger; his brother sounded hurt, he recognized, but there was something else. Disgust, maybe?

"Michael..."

"You could stop it now." The pace of Michael's speech picked up again, his tone rising. "We still live here. He's mad at me for this, you know that?"

Silence.

When Mikey spoke again, his voice was becoming frantic.

"Don't you believe me, Henry?" Evan could hear the sound of fabric rustling. "Do you see this? Do you think this was an accident, too?"

Evan froze.

His mouth was dry; something in his chest felt cold. He suppressed the urge to shiver.

They were talking about Father.

Evan hadn't seen it happen, this time, but he'd heard Michael crying. Michael hardly ever cried.

He lost track of the conversation for a moment, falling into his own thoughts. Evan knew that Father would be livid if he knew one of the boys was talking about the way he could be sometimes; he had a reputation to uphold, after all, and the way a man raised his children was nobody else's business. The idea that Mikey might have actually talked to anyone about it was alien to him.

"You know," he'd said, but that couldn't be right.

Henry wouldn't ever hurt them, Evan didn't think. Maybe hitting sometimes was okay, but he'd definitely intervene if he saw it get really bad...

Right?

Henry's voice pulled him back.

"–sorry, Michael."

"Then do something!" Michael was yelling now; every breath came short and quick. A small collision sounded; a noise Evan easily recognized as someone's hand being smacked away.

Mikey didn't like to be touched. He knew that sound very well.

Evan felt his cheeks burn, tears brimming. The turmoil taking place in the next room was overwhelming, and he felt it bleeding into him with each word that was spoken.

He made no move to leave, though. He couldn't.

He needed to know.

It was quiet for a little while.

Sometimes, Henry would start to speak, but stop before getting any words out. Evan wondered if he was struggling with what he wanted to say.

It seemed like ages before he really spoke again.

"Mikey, you know I can't do that."

Evan dropped everything, looking up at the door in disbelief.

Henry did know.

He knew, and he...

He didn't do anything.

Henry left them there.

Evan felt sick to his stomach.

Maybe he just needed a moment to process it. Sure, he wasn't always certain what was normal and what wasn't, but it had been bad enough for Mike to reach out for help, right? It had been bad enough to make Evan cry himself to sleep every night. It left scrapes and bruises, and, sometimes, it was too bad for either brother to even talk about.

It had been bad enough that Mikey had wanted to die.

Evan wasn't feeling very thirsty anymore. He turned to leave; to run back to his room and never, ever look at Henry the same way again.

As he left, he heard a sob echo from behind.

[moeblob]

sobbing at every heart event ...

[bumblebaubles]

ok fine i'll say it i dont think it makes sense osha didnt show remorse after killing sol