#blame it on your beats

[sp0o0kylights]

“Alienate.” Flo mutters, the first thing Phil Callahan hears when he enters the station. “No, that's eight letters. Darn.” 

“How’s the crossword, Miss Flo?” He asks, as he always asks, every morning. 

It’s part of a little routine he’s established with their doting receptionist, partly out of boredom, mostly because she sometimes asks him for help.  

If there’s one thing Phil enjoys doing, it’s helping.

(It’s why he became a cop, after all.)

“Hi, hun. I’m stuck.” Flo responds, staring down at the New York Times spread out before her. 

It’s a quiet Friday morning and a quick glance at the open and dark-empty office of the Chief says the man’s not in yet, and so Callahan rounds the big wooden desk to stare at the puzzle over Flo’s shoulder. 

“Which one?” He asks, seeing most of it’s already been filled out. 

Flo jabs a finger at the offending clue, her nails painted a light pastel blue. “Pushed away through inattention.” She reads dutifully, then traces her finger to the blank section of the crossword, tapping at it. “Nine letter word.” 

Phil cocks his head, thinks it through. 

“It wasn’t alienate.” Flo says, non-helpfully. 

“Ignored?” Phil tries.

“That’s seven letters.” 

They both stare down at the puzzle, the black and white squares taunting them. 

“Neglected.” Phil says suddenly, triumphant. “It has to be neglected--the word has to end with a D to make sense in the puzzle. See?” 

One of two words that crosses over with their missing piece is ‘abandoned’, which fits nicely with the apparently gloomy theme of today’s crossword. 

“Doesn’t work with the other word that goes through it though.” Flo points out, defeating the proud little glow that had been building in Phil’s head. 

The other bisecting word is ‘isolated’, making him wonder if the puzzlemaker is in the middle of a rough divorce. 

(Or maybe just a rough day, and he’s the one projecting…) 

“Well, hell.” Phil grumbles, staring down at it. 

“Try estranged!” Powell calls as he passes by with a mug full of coffee. 

Flo carefully pencils in ‘estranged’ and makes a pleased noise when it fits. 

“Thank you, hun!” She calls, and Phil huffs at himself for not seeing it, but also refuses to let Powell’s one upping ruin his day.

The man himself offers their receptionist a smile, before tossing a casual reprimand Phil’s way.  

“Callahan, get to work, would you?” 

“Yeah, yeah, smartypants.” He says, going to fetch his own cup of coffee. “Save the bitching for the Chief.” 

Powell rolls his eyes at him, and Callahan makes a face back, and the two of them go on to have a very boring, small town cop sort of day--right until a legitimate call finally comes in. 

Well.

Sort of. 

“The Harrington residence is having a too-loud party again.” Hopper says, having finally shown up sometime between nine and noon. “Drunk teenagers are throwing up in people’s lawns.” 

“It’s not even dark yet.” Powell mutters, staring at the clock as if he couldn’t imagine a party taking place before 8 pm. 

“Teenagers don’t care about that shit, that’s why they’re getting the cops called on them.” Hopper snips back. He’d been in a mood all day, and not the fun, jolly kind. 

“Come on Callahan, let’s go remind Harrington Jr. that it’s his daddy that owns this department, not him.”

“I wish you wouldn’t joke about that.” Phil says as he follows Hopper out the door, waving goodbye to Flo as he goes. “People are going to think you’re serious.” 

(Sometimes, Phil thinks as he swings into the patrol truck, that Hopper is serious. 

That they are being paid to look the other way. 

Then he takes a sip of their god-awful coffee and hears Hopper’s ancient truck cough to life, and figures, if anyone was getting cash here, there would at least be evidence of it.) 

xXx 

Harrington Jr.’s party isn’t quite the chaotic disaster it was made out to be, though there are a handful of tipsy teenagers stumbling around the lawn.

“One of these idiots is going to drown in that damn pool someday.”  Hopper complains through gritted teeth as he storms up the driveway, kids scrambling into action the second they spot him. 

One loudly screams; “Cops!” and the rest of them scatter, running in so many directions it makes Phil’s head spin. He briefly moves as if to give chase before deciding there’s simply too many to bother. 

(Knows that it’s unlikely they’ll arrest anyone but Harrington tonight, anyway.)

“If the right kid bites it, Dick Harrington might even have to come deal with it personally.” Over his shoulder Hopper tosses Phil a shark’s smile, barging up the porch to bang hard on one of the two front doors. “Wouldn’t that be a sight to see?” 

“No, not really.” Phil says, because he’s thinking about dead teenagers in pools. 

“Also I don’t think Richard likes to be called Dick.” He adds cautiously, just in case the man himself happens to be home. 

It’s unlikely, doubly so given all the drunk minors, but that just means Phil isn’t surprised when it’s not the Vice President of Indiana Corporate Consulting, LLC that opens the door but his son, Steve. 

“Officers.” The kid drawls, shirtless in swim trunks, not a single strand of his perfectly styled hair out of place. “What can I do for you?”

He leans casually in the doorway, as another kid screams out a warning inside. 

“You can cut the shit.” Hopper says. “You know the drill. Turn around and put your hands behind your back.” 

Harrington does neither of those things, instead tilting his head and making a face like he just smelled something foul. 

“I’m not drunk. And anyone who is drunk brought it without telling me. You should go arrest them.” Steve  jams a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the rapidly emptying house. 

Then he smirks at both of them, every inch the newly crowned King the kids insist on calling him. 

“You think your old man is gonna believe that?” Hopper snarls, infuriated. He never was one that dealt well with teenagers. Or at least, these kinds (and that damn Munson kid, who just loved stealing everybodies lawn flamingos.) 

“I think you’ll find ‘my old man’,” Steve mockinly mimics, “doesn’t care.”

“He will when the neighbors start calling.” Hopper tosses back as Phil pushes past Harrrington Jr. to begin the process of trying to wrangle drunk teenages. “That’s Janet Wilkinson’s prized hydrangeas Hagan’s been throwing up in. You wanna see what happens when she talks to your mother?” 

“She has to get a hold of my mother to talk to her.” Steves snarks, instead of pulling out his usual charm. “Why do you think she called you instead?” 

This isn’t Phil’s first call to the house, but it is the first time Harrington Jr. has been this combative. It’s new, but not exactly unexpected. 

Not when Steve Harrington has been hurtling towards this ever since he started hosting parties. 

“You think your parents won’t care when I call them?”

“Well they haven’t before, so--” 

Phil rolls his eyes as the kid and Hopper trade more barbs, the adult’s growing sharper and sharper as Steve makes a couple of arguments about being held accountable for other people’s actions (and something else about unreasonably high standards and making his own bail.) 

Let's them argue it out as he quickly realizes he will definitely not be catching teenagers, and pivots to scanning for too-drunk stragglers in need of help. 

“Keep running your mouth, Harrington, and I’ll let you cool your heels overnight in a jail cell. That what you want?”

“You already did that, remember? Swore you’d never do it again because I was too annoying.”

“You can’t annoy me if I’m not the one there watching you--” 

Phil tunes out the rising voices, his attention snagging on something else.

The Harringtons’ entryway was sparse, and the rooms beyond weren’t much better. The whole house had the sterile feel of a museum;  untouched and unlived in. 

Not even a swarm of teenagers had managed to leave much of a mark. Or at least, not in these few rooms, anyway. 

Which is what makes the scraggly note stand out.

It’s taped to the wall right above the phone, but slightly askew, like it’d been thought of last-minute. A little crumpled, like someone half-heartedly tried to peel it off before giving up and pressing it back down.

‘Who puts a phone in the entryway?’ Phil wonders, but then, it is the Harrington’s. 

Maybe they need it to find each other in this huge fucking house. 

He leans in to read the note, spotting the bold letters at the bottom informing everyone the entire notepad had been custom ordered for RICHARD HARRINGTON, VP. 

‘Darling,’ beautiful cursive starts, at odds with the footnote, ‘Sorry that we couldn’t get a hold of you. Your father had a business opportunity, you know how important those are. I’ll send you a postcard. Take care of the house, remember that Martha is coming on Wednesdays now to get the dry cleaning. Do something fun for your birthday!’ 

It’s signed XOXO, Muffin. 

Muffin is, of course, Richard Harrington’s wife, and also a walking punchline. Or at least she is when people aren’t tripping over themselves to stay on her good side.

Weird that she signed it as such instead of with ‘Mom’, but then Muffin always has been a bit…much. 

More importantly (besides the fact that they skipped out on their own kids birthday) is the date at the top, which says the note was left Tuesday, March 17th. 

It’s currently the middle of May.

Flo’s crossword springs to mind, each guessed word clicking into place beside Steve’s own, still warm, spoken just moments ago.

Abandoned, and ‘She has to get a hold of my mother to talk to her.’ 

Ignored and ‘I think you’ll find my old man doesn’t care.’ 

A cold realization sweeps through Phil, as he recalls the things they’ve all heard other kids say about Steve. 

No parents. 

Big house. 

Always down for a good time. 

(‘Neglect is the failure to give somebody proper care or attention.’ Powell had argued on their lunch break, as Phil complained that ‘neglected’ fit the stupid crossword better than ‘estranged’ had. 

“Estranged works because it’s when you’re not really talking to someone. Hence the pushing away part. They’re different. Similar! But different.” 

“That’s dumb.” Phil argued back. 

“You’re dumb.” Powell replied, then laughed when Phil gasped in mock offense. “It’s why you’re getting taken to the cleaners in your divorce!”

“Hey man, come on, too far!”

“Sorry, sorry--” ) 

All cop’s develop intuition, even the small town ones, and Phil’s kicks in as he stares at the note. 

Neglected might be a hard sell for a fifteen year old that drives a BMW, but estranged definitely fits the bill. 

(He’s pretty sure neglect does fit the fucking bill no matter how much money the kids parents have, but he’s been on the force long enough to know how these things go.) 

He turns on his heel and marches over, sticking himself right in between his boss and the only remaining teenager. 

“Where are your parents at, again?” He asks, right over whatever point Hopper was butchering. 

“What?” Steve and Hopper both say, before giving the other a look for it. 

“Do you know where your parents are at?” Phil asks again, switching up the wording a little just like they’d taught him in the academy. 

“Uh…No?” Steve says, seeming too startled to lie. “You’d have to call dad’s receptionist.” 

“Okay. And when are they coming back?” 

This time Steve tosses a look at Hopper, like Phil’s the one being weird here. 

“When they get back.” He says, and it’s like he’s trying to still sound tough, to put forth that King persona, but is fumbling a little now that it’s not Hopper who's asking the questions. 

“So you have no idea, at all.” He clarifies, and feels his stomach sink a little. 

“I mean, I could also call dad’s receptionist.” Steve says, like that makes it better.  

“Whose in charge of you while they’re gone?” And yes he knows it’s a stupid question, knows that Steve is fifteen (he thinks, anyway) and is perfectly old enough 

“...I am.” Steve says, right over Hopper’s annoyed; “What the hell, Callahan.” 

“Chief, can I talk to you?” He says, turning to face his boss. 

Hopper stares back at him in disbelief, before making a show of summoning the last of his patience with a loud sigh. 

“You.” He points at Steve. “Sit. Stay.”

“Want me to shake too?” Harrington Jr calls out in an attempt to recover, but Phil’s got a hand on Hopper’s elbow and is dragging the older man away before he can get sucked back in. 

“You better have found something good Callahan.” Hopper warns, as Phil snatches the note on the wall as they pass by. 

“Hopper,” Phil says quietly, leaning in as he pulls Hopper all the way into the kitchen, kicking empty solo cups as he goes. “I don’t think his parents have been home in a while.”

He shoves the note in the Chief’s face. 

“No shit, kid.” Hopper spits, and the nickname sits badly, now that Phil’s heard it spat at Steve the same way. 

(Hopper doesn’t mean it, Phil knows he doesn’t. 

Hopper’s the best boss Phil’s ever had. The guy’s just a little rough sometimes, gets lost in the little things and needs to be brought back down. 

‘He’s got a lot going on, hun, but we’ll get him there.’ Flo says when he’s been really mean, and Phil knows they will, he’s seen it himself, but sometimes he wishes whatever the Chief was healing from would let him go a little faster.) 

He grabs the note, eyes scanning over it, and Phil talks a little faster. 

“No, I mean, look at the date, Chief. They’ve been gone for months.” 

Hopper looks up from the note and gives him the world’s flattest state. “So?”

Phil gapes a little at him. “Isn’t that abandonment?” 

In response, Hopper simply steps more into the kitchen, then throws open a door next to the stove. Reveals a huge, walk-in pantry, piled high with all kinds of food. 

Stands next to it like it’s a party trick he just unveiled. 

“Given the lights are on and that fancy little car of his seems to have gas,  I’d say they’re providing for the kid just fine.” He says crossly. 

Which isn’t wrong exactly, but it’s not right either. 

“Yeah,” Phil protests, “but--” 

“Trust me, things could be a lot worse.” Hopper cuts him off. “Save all the pity for someone who actually needs it, and not a kid whose parents’ lawyers will cut both our balls off for even suggesting they don’t care about their kid.” 

“Harsh, Chief.” Phil mutters, stung. There’s a small, growing voice in his head that says Steve Harrington does kind of need someone.

That a kid, even one as old as Steve is, shouldn’t be left like this. 

“Life’s harsh. Now unless you’re volunteering to watch the kid all night in a cell, I say we call the brat’s parents and this time, we’re gonna hit them with a citation when they get home. See if they ignore that.” 

“Please do!” Steve calls loudly, from where he’s still seated on the couch. “It’ll be funny, trust me.” 

Hopper goes to pinch the bridge of his nose, before glancing sideways at the island counter covered in solo cups and bottles. 

Changes course to pluck an unopened whiskey bottle from the pile, tucking it under his arm. 

Storms back out to whatever the Harrington’s call the room Steve’s in, pausing only to stop in front of him. 

“Hey.” Steve says, spotting the bottle.

Hopper holds it out. “Oh, I’m sorry,  is this yours?” 

Steve’s mouth opens, before he catches Callahan’s shaking head. Thinks better of it, and slams it back closed. 

Grumbles; “No, sir.” 

“Oh it’s sir now, is it?” Hopper says with a snort. “Since you’re so good at eavesdropping, you already know what I’m going to do. Congratulations Harrington, you get out of jail tonight, but,” 

He leans forward, putting himself almost nose to nose with the surely teenager, “I will be making sure that this time, your parents pay attention.” 

Quick as a shot he’s up and out the door, slamming it close behind him like he forgot Phil was there. 

“Good luck!” Steve shouts after him, but it’s clear even he thinks the Chief won their little sparring match. 

“Have your parents really been gone since March?” Phil says when the coast is clear, and watches Steve blink at him like he hadn’t realized the younger officer was still there. 

“Yeah.” Steve says with a shrug, like it’s not a big deal. “Every kid’s dream.” 

It’s not. Even Phil can tell from the way Steve’s face looks just then, that he knows it’s not. 

He doesn’t know what exactly posses him, but the next words out of his mouth are; “You ever get too lonely here, you can stay with me.” 

“What?” Steve says, eyes snapping right to Phil’s face like he misheard him. 

He’s embarrassed for two entire seconds before deciding, fuck it. 

He already offered, he’s not taking it back. 

“It’s a big house, kid. You shouldn’t be alone for that long.” Phil thinks about his impending divorce. On the emptiness of the house, with his soon to be ex wife long gone. How that eats at him, sometimes. Adds;  “No one should be.”  

Harrington Jr. stares at him like he’s lost his mind. “Whatever.” He scoffs, but it’s not quite the waspish tone he’d used before. 

“You ever need help either, you call me.” Phil says, because that seems important to say too. 

He points up at one of the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, impossibly high over both their heads. “Even if it’s just to hold a ladder to change one of those lightbulbs.” 

Steve’s eyes go up with him then back down, like he’s still not sure this isn’t a joke being played on him. 

“I mean it.” Phil says, right as one of the front doors whips back open. Reaches into the pocket of his uniform, and pulls out his card. “You need me, you call.” 

“Callahan!” Hopper bellows, and Phil calls out a loud; “Coming!” before making eye contact with Steve once more.

“Take it.”  He says, holding out the card, and hopes he sounds like a proper adult when he does. 

(Phil often does not feel like an adult, least of which because he’s the youngest in the department by two decades, nevermind the failed marriage.) 

“Okay.” Steve says dismissively, but he reaches out.

Takes the card.

It feels like a victory and Phil lets it be one as he leaves the Harrington residence and Steve behind with it. Feels the rot of that be soothed by the fact he at least did something. 

(Also see’s Hopper didn’t wait for him, but is instead sitting in the driver’s seat of the truck. 

Knows his boss is gonna be pissed at him, but faces the noose anyway.) 

“Puppies are expensive.” The Chief tells him darkly, the second Phil opens the door. “And they shit all over the floor.”

“What?” He asks, not always used to his bosses nonsensical ramblings. 

He eyes the thermos the Chief’s holding, and wonders if already dumped the whiskey he stole in it. 

They all thought the Chief had been getting better, but maybe not… 

“Puppies,” Hopper stressed, jamming the hand holding the thermos in Phil’s face (no liquor smell, thank God.) “who have very rich owners, are typically well cared for, even if their idea of care and your idea are different.” 

Phil’s face contorts in confusion, eyes following Hopper’s finger pointed middle finger to the fading tail lights of Steve’s BMW. 

It takes him a second, but he gets there.

“Steve isn’t a puppy.” He says instantly offended, because teenagers and puppies are very, very different, thanks, and yes okay, he knows it’s a metaphor, but it’s a stupid one. 

“Acts like one.” Hopper says, before taking a noisy sip of the thermos. 

“He really doesn’t?” 

Phil wants to say he complains right back at his boss, but really it comes out as more of a question--because Steve Harrington has never acted like a dog. The kid’s not clingy, or whiny or even loud. 

He’s a kid, sure, a teenager that’s obnoxious, but aren’t all teenagers that way, by default?

Phil’s mother certainly said so, though she’d been teasing about it. 

(She also said something about how kids who can’t get what they need the right way, will revert to trying out the wrong ways instead.) 

“Whatever. Just don’t come running to me when you get too close and Mommy and Daddy show up to remind you it’s none of your business.”

Hopper starts the cruiser, expecting that to be that.

And normally it would be. Phil would leave it alone, even if he disagreed, but today he finds he can’t. 

Not when the words from Flo’s crossword are still haunting his head, ‘abandoned’ and ‘neglected’ and ‘pushed away’ lighting up like little warning signs, all pointing towards one very sad kid. 

“If they come back.” He finds himself saying. 

“Oh, they always come back.” Hopper snorts right back. “Just not when any of us ever want them too.” 

Phil doesn’t like that answer, but this time he does leave it alone. 

Figures the best he can do for Steve is what he already did. Let him know he saw him. Let him know he understood. 

If Steve needs someone, he now knows Phil will come. 

He won’t let anyone make him feel bad for offering that, either, because this is the exact thing he signed up to do, when he became a cop. 

Even if Harrington never reaches out to him, at least Phil can say he did something. At least he can live with himself. 

xXx

Weeks go by.

A month.

Two months and more.

By a year Phil has kind of forgotten about his promise to Steve Harrington, and by the time the Chief has gotten them all involved in some kind of--poisoned pumpkin patch problem, he’s too caught up in trying to figure out what the hell is going on in Hawkins to really think about it. 

That is, until the kid himself shows up on his doorstep, with a black eye and a hand hugging his ribs. 

Which would be concerning on its own, but it’s worse given that known lawn flamingo thief and constant pain in the police department’s ass, Eddie Munson, is right there with him. 

“Hi Officer Callahan.” Munson says, and he, Phil quickly realizes, looks perfectly fine, despite clearly being the only reason Steve seven on his feet. “Uh…Harrington said I should take him here?” 

He does not sound certain, and frankly, looks two seconds from bolting.

Given how much Steve is bleeding on him, Phil can’t blame him for it. 

“What the hell.” He says, shocked and loose tongued for it. “Did you two get in a fight!?” 

“No!” Munson yelps, then immediately stills when the act of it jostles Steve. “I found him like this. He was fucking trying to drive and was weaving all over the place--I got him to stop, and get in my van, but the only thing he’ll say is that I needed to bring him to you!” 

Like it wasn’t bad enough the chief had been out of contact all night or that there had been weird people swarming all over town, nevermind all those damn phone calls about loose dogs and--

“You said.” Steve interrupts Phil’s spiraling thoughts, voice sounding oddly strangled, and he'd pay more attention to that if he wasn’t finding new and concerning injuries every second he looked. 

“You said I could go to you, for help. If I needed it. Cause Hopper--Hopper’s busy,” Steve’s slurring, Phil realizes and oh god a lot of that blood is on his head, “An’ I didn’t want the kids to worry, but I think…i was wrong, I don’t--I think I’m…I don’t wanna be ‘lone--”  

“Okay, okay.” Phil reaches out, tries to take Steve’s weight off of Munson. “Get in here. You too, Munson.” 

Expects the latter to protest and is a little surprised to watch as the kid instead helps Steve hobble inside. 

“Put him on the couch while I get my first aid kit.” Phil orders, trying not to panic and failing. He has first aid training--more than, actually, because he took it as an elective back when he thought he was going to go to medical school, but that was years ago and Steve looks like he went head first through a blender. 

‘Stabilize him now, panic later.’ He orders himself, as Munson settles both of them down on the couch. 

“Am I dying?” Steve asks vaguely, to Munson’s increasingly panicked face. 

“Nope.” Phil says, voice as firm as he can make it. “Not today.” 

He comes over, looking over Steve once again 

“You staying Munson?” He asks, more an out for the kid than anything else. 

Watches as the older teen clocks that for what it is. 

See’s Steve unintentionally lean into his chest, breathing a little weird. 

“No man, you’re going to need an extra hand.” Eddie says. “I’m staying right here.” 

“Me too.” Steve slurs nonsensically.

“What the hell, me too.” Phil says, just to lighten the mood a little. 

Then he drops to his knees and goes about stabilizing Steve. 

(At some point Munson decides to help tell his latest flamingo heist story. Phil let him, even if no one had realized he’d pulled off another one again.

He got Steve to laugh, so Phil figures it was worth it, at least. ) 

Part Two

[3416]

mitch had definitely considered an escape plan from the leafs before this year and who could blame him. i think it's pretty obvious he believed in them and wanted it to work specifically this playoff run more than anything else. he was so overtly emotional about everything, i don't know how you could doubt that....

being in toronto and playing for toronto means something different and probably way more intense for him than for any other core leaf. it's really easy for guys like willy and auston to give platitudes about how they want to be here after they sign when their deals line up magically during times like a new gm not wanting to lose talent before the leafs fail 2 more times in the playoffs. it's easy and they leave in the summer and no one pins it on them or skews their clumsy wording every 5 minutes just bc they can, and they get to escape and their family isn't embroiled in it (even if they are like say your dad weighing in on your contract and being the reason it gets held up for a while, cough, it doesn't get spun the same way). back when jt came, he "took less" to come to toronto but even that is just a narrative thing like... he was making way above market value to play hero and not play like an $11 mil player and ~come home~ and make leafs fans feel better. that was about the timing and fucked the following deals which is smth mitch specifically gets flak for but no one elsee.

there was no positive solution to this, genuinely. i wanted mitch to stay so badly, and i don't doubt part of him did too, but imagine if he did, lol. the timing is horrendous. everyone hungry for change but getting mad that it didn't go down "correctly" on his end is just upset that he's gone and that's fine, but it's such idiotic hypocritical anger. he wants to try to win. that's a respectable goal, and he's going to a contender not in his own divison or even conference. i think if things were different in terms of the pressure, there's a higher likelihood he stays and tries again. obviously we don't know mitch, and with a kid and everything now, who knows how much of what plays into his decision orr what his priorities are, but how can you even blame him after the shit that's gone on this entire last season and offseason. seriously. he didn't fuck this team over, they got something in return and that precious cap space people wanted. he agreed to waive his nmc IN SEASON to vegas, but it never worked out. what do you legitimately want at that point.

just blows my mind how people want to paint him. oh you wanted him to sign a team friendly deal to stay in toronto after yet another playoff loss where the coverage is entirely abt him and how he has to go. like it's not been a pressure cooker environment ENOUGH? and now he has a young family, lol. yeah, sure.

[dairine-bonnet]

When Marazhai makes some ambiguous offers or seems to threaten RT, what does Heinrix think about it?

Marazhai: Do you want to know my world better? *Pushes RT off the edge of his speeder, then catches her hand* Do you want to look at my whip? Do you want to experience my agonizer?

Me: Heinrix, why are you silent now??? This xenos is trying to steal your lady right in front of you!

[jasontoddsno1simp]

Guys, if you're gonna tout that Bruce doesn't let his rogues kill people (debatable but we're gonna set that aside for argument's sake), then you have gotta stop saying he lets Jason get away with being a menace. It's not fanon, it's straight up false.

[rubydubydoo122]

I think the funniest thing about how the Fandom perceives Tim (especially obnoxious Tim fans) is that he is was deeply hurt by the actions Jason, Damian, and Dick have done to him, but lowkey that’s just the fandom projecting

Tim lowkey did not give a fuck. Maybe a little at first, but he definitely does not hold a grudge against any of them.

[notsocooljess]

“So don’t feed the nightmares. Don’t let yourself panic. Don’t give the Capitol that. They’ve taken enough already.”

such great lines that have made me infinitely more excited for this book. what is haymitch referring to here? just the passing of his father? his right to a fair future as a child of the seam? or did something more specific happen before this book starts that we’ll come to learn?

[yuwuta]

twin aus are fun bc sukuna is sooooo ugly and yuuji is soooooooo pretty and beautiful and lovely <3 completely understand why sukuna ends up the deliquent loser twin bc why would anybody choose him when <3yuuji<3 is right there

[sargewood]

y'all clown on logan for being overly "american" and constantly wanting a good burger, etc. but my best friend who's lived in england now for 8 almost 9 years, there's rarely a week that goes by where she doesn't bring up something that she misses from america

[sarafangirlart]

People are pressed at me for pushing back to the statement that “Zeus is always the villian” like i clarified Zeus is an asshole but he and his kids are why Greece isn’t ruled by shitty monsters and chaotic. It’s getting to the point that people are doing the “hades is the evil god” thing but for Zeus. Ugh

At least we have tons of myths where Zeus is a tyrant, but he can be a decent ruler when he actually uses the brain cells that he stole from Metis, tho I do agree we need to let him have a little more complexity.

A scene that really encapsulates both his complexity and cruelty is the scene when he yells at Ares in the Iliad, yes he’s being verbally abusive, yes he was the one to send Athena to hurt him, but he was also the one to send a healer to fix him up bc it hurts him to see his child (in some sources eldest child) in pain.

[youngyoo-apologist]

OG Choi Han they could never make me hate you cause if some random rich boy was yelling at me and telling me my family deserved to die like a day after it happened and all I wanted was to know how I could get help I’d beat him up too

This plus the added fact that the Harris Village people were the first people to take Choi Han in and take care of him after years and years in the dark forest. Like he’s obviously not going to be mentally stable after all that, and he was so young when everything happened to him like I cannot blame him at all. I don’t think I can ever hate OG Choi Han like ever, he’s flawed, he has problems, but I love him dearly. He deserves the world. This kid who had to fight for his life, was taken away from his family, and in the process had to give up parts of his own humanity to survive, and like went to war two years later, they could never make me hate u OG Choi Han…

Like yeah violence is bad I guess but OG Cale had it coming(saying this as an OG Cale fan, I love him, but he was mean as hell when he was younger!)

If I’m honest, I think they were both in the wrong to an extent. Like OG Cale shouldn’t have said all that no matter the circumstances, and OG Choi Han shouldn’t have beaten him up so much. But u say mean shit and you get hit, that is how it will work when you’re talking to the guy who just saw his entire village get murdered like idkkkk man

I understand where OG Cale was coming from, but he had many issues and while he wasn’t an awful person, he was capable of doing bad things because of his own internalized pain and emotions that he never got to properly process because of his emotionally distant childhood and relationship with his father who should have been there for him more when he was younger.

Okay speaking of his childhood, Deruth isn’t the WORST father in the world but there are a lot of things he could have done better. I think a lot of Deruth’s flaws come from his fear of failure and messing up. He’s scared of doing the wrong thing, and so he sticks to doing what he knows and using what he knows best. That’s why he uses his money, that’s why gift giving is his way of showing affection, he knows that it is one thing he cannot mess up.

The problem is that money and gifts is NOT what OG Cale needed. I think what that guy needed the most was a parent who wasn’t afraid to talk to him, to ask him questions. Not to say that Deruth gave up on OG Cale, but I think in a way he gave up on OG Cale by giving up on himself. Deruth didn’t trust himself to have the capabilities to talk to OG Cale, which is why he never did. It’s because that Deruth was scared, and didn’t trust himself, that he could never face OG Cale

If Deruth was able to trust himself a little more, and pull himself together, I don’t think OG Cale would have turned out the way he did. As a kid, he probably thought the only way he could help his family without relying on anyone(no doubt this whole ‘I have to do it myself’ thing came from the fact that he couldn’t rely on his father when his mom died, and instead was acting as a pillar of support for his father when it should have been the other way around) was to sabotage himself, the only heir. If he was shown to be unfit to be heir, then everyone else would have no choice but to direct their hatred towards him instead of his family.

If Deruth had talked to his son at least ONCE when he was a kid, asking him why he was upset or why he did the things he did, I think OG Cale would have told him. Why? Because he’s a kid!! A kid will obviously want to rely on his father, if he just had one sign telling him that he didn’t have to do it alone I’m 90% sure OG Cale would have said something.

Basically, while Deruth isn’t the worst father, he’s not really a great father either. I think he does do his best, but he has issues with communication lol

OG Cale and OG Choi Han are both complex characters and had their own reasons to behave the way they did. The thing is with people is that they’re complicated and have layers, so the situation with them would have layers behind it as well with multiple co-existing truths and stuff

[jazminetoad]

Rewatching Episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel and I noticed-

[significant-narratives]

imagine being kniesy with your girlfriend in minnesota (which, sidenote: really? minnesota?) on one hand and your definitely-not-situationship with your beautiful talented goalie on the other hand and then bam! said not-situationship starts flirting with his fellow beautiful talented goalie. please keep him in your prayers this is a lot for one boy to handle.

[thetimelordbatgirl]

So uh, as @dani-luminae just said to me when I wondered what the heck Cinderella when younger is wearing: it looks like she's wearing literal rags. Which uh, raises even more concerns to me how the fuck The Rise Of Red is gonna handle you know, younger Cinderella being a victim of her step-family's abuse. Because imagine seeing a student come in wearing nothing but literal rags and going, "Yeah, that seems fine.", let alone likely seeing other red flags given the shit we've seen her step-family do to her and put her through in the animated one and Brandy's Cinderella film, and again, ignoring it. Its giving vibes the film is gonna have everyone, including the school, ignore it and not do anything and that's just disturbing to imagine, especially with the whole, "Younger Cinderella acts cold", and therefore, film will likely use that as an excuse to why no one did anything for her, aka blaming her I guess for not waving enough red flags or not telling anyone.

[stay-the-knight]

Childhood trauma reactions are so cringe. Why do I have to use breathing exercises to calm myself down when a friend is late to picking me up just because my mom would forget to pick me up from school when I was 11. That was over 10 years ago you should've gotten over that by now.

[waspsystem]

if you're eligible to vote in the Canadian election and you haven't done so yet, please do so this April 28th - you can register at the same time you go in to vote and everything. the elections.ca website has all the information on what ID you'll need and where you go to vote depending on your riding.

a conservative government would almost certainly undo a lot of the progress we've made over the last decade (you can watch the video above for an explanation of just how bad their platform is) and I quite honestly doubt they'd be any good at standing up to the US with how much they've copied from American right-wing politics.

[bougiebutchbitch]

OH THANK FUCK THEY'RE ACTUALLY TALKING ABOUT PATIENT-ON-STAFF ASSAULT