#pushed far enough

[thegoodmorningman]

Good Morning!!! You'd be the last person they'd expect it out of!!!

[cubbihue]

“He knows Timmy will come around eventually. It's only a matter of waiting for his clock to run out. And HP is very patient.” Hey uh.. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN HIS CLOCK TO RUN OUT is he waiting for Timmy to become a full fairy (Pixie?) and when that happens Timmy forgets about being a human entirely?

Sometimes Timmy wonders why he has grudges against certain fairies. Some of them, he can understand- like his dislike of Dr. Rip Studwell. But other ones, like with Cupid, it's a bit of a blur.

He must've been a very very vindictive 10 year old! Ah, well! Timmy's learned that he has to pick and choose his own battles wisely.

And uh. Fighting with the man who decides his paycheck and vacation days is not a battle worth choosing. Talk about a hostile work environment!!

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[nattikay]

OmatiCon is holding an art contest and one of the categories was to make some fanart of their little mascot "Teyvì", so here's my entry. Definitely not as polished as I would've liked because I was rushing like mad to get it done by the deadline, but hey it's something!

[perplexingly]

I hope in KCD3 devs will discover that women can have active roles outside of romances too 🙏

[ilynpilled]

“jaime did it mostly for self preservation” “he did it bc he was ordered to kill his father” are not only blatantly incorrect and borderline illiterate reads of what is in the text but idk why people find it unfathomable that someone like jaime would want to prevent thousands of people from violently burning alive. like it is not actually a difficult moral equation which is why it is at the center of jaime’s arc and his relationship to his society because he realizes that the ethical constructs of westeros seem to be in opposition to this very obvious moral choice as seen by how the situation could even escalate to the point that it does through the enablement of the tyrant by the respected institution of the kingsguard and the uncritical upholding of the honor system over an actual coherent moral code. same with the scorn he receives for killing what everybody acknowledges as an objectively horrid tyrant who harmed innocents and violated law that knights are also sworn to protect and uphold and actually contradict by not acting against.

[skykid-nadir]

You are three years old. Your mother tells you a story about a child who fell from the Sky. You don't understand it yet, but that child was you.

You are six years old. Your parents agreed to take you into town, but only if you stay close to them. You ignore them, wander off and find a group of other kids. Playing with them is the most fun you've ever had. But when your parents find you later, you will never forget the scolding they give.

You are nine years old. The older kids play terrible pranks on you, stealing your mask or trying to snatch away the crystal at your heart. They don't say it to your face, but you know they think you're a freak.

You are twelve years old. The Elder arrives to take you away. He says you're special but you don't believe him. You just want to stay with your parents.

You are fifteen. The Elders argue about your future. Daleth reminds them that you're only a child. Teth counters that no one knows what you are. The others say nothing, but you know they agree with her.

You are eighteen. Your body hasn't aged in years. You hear murmurs in the crowd as you take your place on your throne. The Realm of Eden needs a new Elder, and the others finally agreed that it should be you.

You are twenty one. The pressure is too much. You never wanted this. You never wanted Eden. You feel like you'll never live up to their expectations of you. But you learned long ago to keep your mouth shut about that. You saw what happened to Daleth when he dared suggest that you choose your own path.

You are twenty four. You've finally done it. You've finally found a way to make them proud. If they knew that you could harness the power of Darkstone... Surely that will impress them, right? Maybe you'll finally be enough.

You are twenty five. You were wrong. They hated it. They feared it. You should have known. You will never be enough. How far do you have to go to make them respect you? At night you dream of your family, but you can no longer remember their faces.

Who are you? What are you? What do you have to do to prove yourself? Your inventions have done horrible things. But how can you turn back now? You're so close to changing the world. No matter the lengths, you will make them see that you are good enough.

[wolves-in-the-world]

the thing about eliot spencer as a character, right. the thing about him.

(and as always your mileage may vary on my analyses so if we disagree that's cool actually)

is that he is in fact a somewhat emotionally constipated idiot who is occasionally sensitive about his perceived masculinity and gets defensive about emotional intimacy around other men (largely hardison, who's much more comfortable expressing affection and embracing a softer kind of masculinity), but eliot displays enough emotional awareness and sensitivity and respect for women etc etc that anyone who's been subjected to that era of television will put on rose-tinted glasses without even looking twice.

(and he is, don't get me wrong, incredibly emotionally aware for a professionally punchy guy with enough trauma to sink the titanic. it still startles me to see.)

on top of which we have the layers and the accessories and the excellent hair with the secret braids and the way he barely has an ego and he's good with kids and protective of his team without taking it too far, and some of us never stood a fucking chance.

[cocoa-rococo]

"i'm TIRED, my friend!"

no joke? this line grabbed me by the throat more than any other in "mutiny". holy shit.

eurylochus sounds exhausted. he's been through literal hell and back after facing a war, a cyclops, a god, and a witch, and not a few hours before, JUST saw the captain of his ship, and one of his closest friends, let six of their friends die and did nothing.

after the mutiny, eurylochus speaks like he's dazed, and rightly so. it's that thousand-yard-stare, slow-walking, disassociated headspace that comes with seeing atrocities and not being able to do anything about them. it's that hypnotic influence stemming from seeing something so wonderful you almost can't fathom it, and it's within arm's reach, it's tangible.

all while odysseus is pleading with him not to make a bad decision (after so many of his own), begging him not to go for the feast that's right there, (the wind bag that's right there), even when he's so hungry, he can feel the hollow of his stomach and the stabbing of the emptiness.

but that line? that outburst?

that's real, aching exhaustion, raw and tearful and helpless, the kind you get when you're so fed up and upset at the world for being the way it is you don't want to do anything but collapse on a bed and sleep. you can almost see the way his face is pinched and he's this close to crying from hunger, betrayal, pain, from finally buckling under the weight of their actions.

he's seen so much, gone through so much, lost so much, and now he's being pled with to consider a being who would look at him like an ant for the sake of sparing a perfectly fine cow, and goddammit all, he is TIRED. he wants to eat something real. he wants to sleep. he wants to go home.

"i'm just a man" indeed. and who could blame him for craving something human.

[sleepynegress]

Going through the #your monster tag and there's not one gif post of Laura and the Monster fucking. Back in the 2010's, there'd be dozens of those posts by now...

[jonny-versace]

Okay so I watched the scenes from today's ep and maybe it's just me but I'm not sure what's caused the hubbub, felt like fairly standard writing they give to Aaron in this kind of situation, we've seen him do it soooo many times.

Also, I realised if you watch this Aaron stuff as if it's a tragic black comedy, it's actually very funny watching him commit this hard to making probably the biggest mistake he's ever made, knowing as the audience with every affirmation he makes he's digging the hole he's going to have eventually climb out of even deeper. I dunno, I sort of enjoyed it in some ways.

[crypticscarecrow]

Learning about impressionist painting fr be changing my perspective live on painting cuz wdym the literal art style I enjoy was also a symbol and concept for rebellious painting in its time?

THE WAYSIDE CROSS, AUTUMN - Clarence Gagnon 1916

[coconut530]

GETAWAYS

[corey-wh0re]

Forgiveness is part of my job description. Mark O'Brien as Mason Harper in Shadow Of God (2025) | written by Tim Cairo & directed by Michael Peterson

[zombiecowboy65]

Wdym jerejean enable the “worst parts” of each other

[swiiivet-screamathon]

"Thank you Strawberry Crepe for helping us out with the magichanical demonstrations here today, but I believe the school day is coming to an end; does anyone have any final questions before you all go home?"

"It's not related to any of the school work, if that's okay mister."

"I can't make any promises that I'll be able to answer an unrelated question, but go ahead."

"Can we also get a souljam like that?"

"Yeah! Doesn't Shadow Milk have one like yours but just upside down and scribbled on? If he can get one can't we?"

"You're very right, that is quite unrelated. Maybe in the far future we'll be able to get more souljams, but for now these are the only ones that exist, so I apologize children but I don't think you can get one. The reason why we share a similar design is because they're technically the same one; Shadow Milk was the original owner of the souljam, but something went terribly and they all became cruel and corrupted. So what was perceived as only the good parts of the souljam was separated into a new one and given to me. But after this long we should all be quite familiar with the benefits of both truth and deceit in our lives, and that living in such a black and white world is not a realistic one."

"Is the scribble the bad liar parts of his souljam?"

"Haha, I wouldn't think so, I've never considered asking him about it though. Perhaps I will when he's got some free time. But I do apologize for rambling for so long! Thank you again Strawberry Crepe for joining us; the bell rings, you're all free to go!"

...

"Milky!!"

"What contraption do you want me in this time?"

"A contraption of the mind! Pure Vanilla said you were the original holder of the souljam?"

"I was hoping my lies of omission wasn't going to catch up that quickly-- yes that goody two shoes predictably told the truth."

"And it was split apart into two, so I must deduce that the original whole souljam had a combined property. It must be the perceived positivity of truth and negativity of deceit, all I could imagine was Information."

"Getting better at predicting the script are we? Knowledge, it was."

"I'm glad you notice my expertise. ^^ Though since only an aspect of it was removed, not the aspect itself fundamentally changed, wouldn't it simply be the souljam of knowledge with the absence of truth? Not one of deceit, as knowledge can encapsulate imperceivable facts as well, doesn't it?"

"Nyehh-- It is a decently commonly thought of philosophy that to perceive is it change the property of the perceived thing, so things beyond our perception would thus be inherently different compared to one which would be perceived, so although the existence of said object would indeed be a fact, therefore truth of the universe, it would also inherently be beyond our knowledge, and thus not apply to my---..... No, no it isn't. It's the souljam of deceit, hah, what am I on about? Very improper for the main character to fumble his lines so blatantly. I'd issue refunds for such a sorry displa--"

"No, no no, that explains it perfectly-- that's why you're comprised of so much knowledge, not all ingredients get separated into its absolute base components you don't separate frosting down to it's sugar, butter and milk; the absence of truth does not inherently remove knowledge, telling a lie is still something someone can know."

"Is this going to be your new running gag? -.-"

"No, not at all, nothing to me is more aspirational than knowledge, what more is to living than to learn?"

"... A part of knowledge is knowing when to apply wisdom, as in the case of you keeping this to yourself."

"Another part of knowledge is deduction: why so secretive about your origins? Is whatever corrupted you embarrassing?"

"And a final part of knowledge is to know when the cat will meet its end if pursued further."

"And when to be respectful of someone's no. Though I think it might be valuable for you to know that I now definitively see what Pure Vanilla has seen in you all this time, you've for sure got a place here."

"(no you absolutely do not) I suppose this whole shows messed up, everyone's veering hard off script all day, so blatantly out of character indeed. Sooner or later our production is going to be defunded if we keep this up."

"I suppose being vulnerable shows off another kind of knowledge portrayed by someone else. I'm going to go get some more cream, don't you dare touch any of the wafflebots."

"Make sure to get some acting lessons before coming back!"

...

...

...

"(How dare they compare themselves to Vanilly...)"

[owl-with-a-pen]

The Tower had never been this crowded.

Nia had been in crisis mode all morning, swerving patients, running lab equipment from one room to another, never staying still for long enough to catch her breath.

It felt like the whole world had been turned on its head.

Just a few days ago, Brainy had intercepted multiple emergency calls coming in from across the city. Children under the age of fourteen were coming down with some sort of alien virus. Misdiagnosed as a measles outbreak at first, it hadn’t taken medical officials long to realise their mistake. This was something else, something worse, affecting all kids regardless of species or vaccination record.

Hospitals had started hitting capacity by day one, emergency rooms totally overrun. The DEO had opened their med labs to the public, and when that wasn’t enough, J’onn had used his Martian shape-shifting tech to turn the whole Tower into a make-shift paediatric ward.

Nia had been on the streets for the last three days. Running stories on the outbreak could wait until they’d found a cure. For now, the city needed Dreamer way more than a reporter. She’d been hopping between portals, searching out any lost or scared families that might not have had the resources to seek medical attention themselves. Low income or homeless communities were the worst hit, human and alien alike, and with the highest mortality rate for any demographic, they were Nia’s main priority. Brainy hadn’t needed to run a probability check on that one, it was simply point of fact.

Despite the togetherness National City had shared for the weeks after Lex and Nyxly’s defeat, real change took far longer than that, and that was time none of these kids could afford.

She hadn’t seen Kelly or J’onn in days. They’d been split up across the city, listening out for updates from Kara over comms. With her super hearing, she was the first of them who could detect a cry for help, or a heartbeat slowly losing rhythm. Time was of the essence, but stabilising a patient’s vitals was a far cry from a cure.

Only Esme remained unaffected, her proximity to Kara every few hours offering her some sort of Kryptonian-grade protection. She was the only child to be so lucky.

When Nia hopped through her next portal with a family of four, ushering them into the relative safety of the Tower’s med bay, Alex was there to greet them, taking their two sickly daughters and immediately pointing them towards an empty bed.

Running off adrenaline and about four downed complimentary espresso shots in a row, Nia was halfway back into the portal when Alex caught her arm.

“Call came in for you.”

Nia blinked. “I haven’t dreamt anything.” The answer was practically muscle memory at this point. She knew Brainy and Lena were working on a cure, but figuring out the origins of the virus meant finding any traces of a patient zero, which was proving a lot harder than they initially thought. A dream would’ve saved them all a whole lot of time, but so far, the future had been coming up blank.

Alex smiled sympathetically. “Not that kind of call,” she said. “D’you remember the hospital Kelly worked with last month? Their paediatric ward reached out about ten minutes ago. They asked for Dreamer specifically.”

“They did?” Nia asked flatly, shaking her head. “Wait, why me?”

Alex’s lips thinned into a grim line. “Only one way to find out, right?”

Nia nodded, uncertain, exhausted, but no way was she going to let that beat her down. “Right,” she said, squeezing her Legion ring tight to her fist. “Guess I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

--

Nia landed in the hospital parking lot in record time, practically flying through the doors. The reception was in chaos, phones ringing off the hook, crowds of parents packed tight into the only coffee bar in the building, even more flooding out of the waiting rooms down the hall. Nurses were far and few between, but one tired look of recognition from the receptionist told her she was in the right place.

“Paediatric unit,” the receptionist informed, jerking her head to the right. “Follow the signs.”

And so, Nia did, feeling kind of ridiculous given the circumstances. She’d done hospital visits as Dreamer before, but that was normally for community days or story-times. Running down the halls in full superhero garb, surrounded by so much fear and uncertainty, hardly felt right. What could she do here that would make more of a difference than being out on the streets with J’onn and Kelly? What would this change?

She dismissed the thought. The hospital clearly needed her for something - just because she hadn’t figured it out yet didn’t mean it wasn’t important.

She knew she was headed the right way when a nurse stopped dead in her tracks, eyes creasing with relief. “You’re here,” she said, waving her over in an urgent gesture that Nia took as follow me right now.

Nia was given a face mask to wear as she followed the nurse’s lead. Disinfecting her hands, she was quickly buzzed into the paediatric unit with the efficiency of a military operation.

Nothing could have prepared her for such large-scale suffering. The children lying in the cots were so young, their little faces discoloured and sallow, eyes bruised and swollen. Most of them were hooked up to oxygen, others were attached to bigger, scarier apparatus that were helping to stabilise their vitals. Some of them were crying, others screaming, in fear or in pain, Nia had no idea, but it killed her all the same.

“Oh my god,” she murmured, relieved her mask swallowed up most of the sound.

“Dreamer!” a woman with a tight bun and no-nonsense gait called out. She walked with an authority that suggested she was in charge, quickly dismissing the nurse to let her go about her duties. “My name’s Trisha, I’m the one who called your Tower. Thank you so much for coming, I understand things out there aren’t much better than in here.”

“Of course, anything to help,” Nia said, smiling with her eyes. She paused a moment, laughing nervously. “Um- what is it that you want me to do, exactly?”

Nia caught a couple of nurses on the ward exchanging nervous looks. Clearly, they’d been in earshot.

Trisha sighed, ringing out her hands. “I’ll be honest, Dreamer, I wasn’t sure what else to do. This is—unprecedented. This ward has been packed out with more aliens than most hospitals in the city, and half the children here don’t respond to traditional medicines. We have a lot of species on file here and yet half of these patients have never been recorded in our database. Some of them can’t speak any Earth languages, and we can’t treat them with anything that could pose life-threatening to their biology. Specialists are being flown in, but so far we’ve only been able to get them on the phone, and the children here are in so much pain.” Trisha drew in a shaky breath, and Nia realised that her eyes were starting to glisten. Instinctively, she reached out, taking her arm. Trisha’s mask creased with a watery smile. “It’s alright, sweetheart, it’s just--- it’s been a long day. For all of us. Look, the reason I called is because we’re in crisis, and I remembered reading an article CatCo ran on your powers last year that I thought—and I know it’s a long-shot -- but would you be able to help these children sleep?”

Her voice cracked by the end of her question, and Nia’s heart clenched tightly in her chest. At least her being here made more sense than it had five minutes ago. In fact, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

“Yes, I can,” she said immediately, nodding her head. “Lead the way.”

--

The first bay she was taken to had at least twelve children inside. Some with parents or guardians present, others unaccompanied, but all eyes turned to her when she entered.

A few whispered Dreamers caught on the air, even from the lips of some of the children, though most were too weak to do anything other than stare. Nia tried to hold a calming presence, to generate a positive energy just like Kara. She was trying very hard not to think about how this was her first solo-mission with so many young lives depending on her.

Instead, she tried to focus on her element. The cosy fire of a burning hearth, the guiding beacon of flame. She imagined a warmth building inside her own chest, emanating outward, inviting everyone to relax.

She wasn’t sure if it worked, but the buzz in the room seemed to ease.

“Don’t worry,” she said, speaking to both the children and their guardians. “I’m here to help.”

Maybe not everyone in the room spoke English, but her intentions seemed to translate well enough. She turned to the nurses at her back, crowded at the door, eager to watch.

“You might want to get the adults to wait in the hall,” she advised, bracing her arms out ahead of her. “This stuff can get pretty potent.”

While some of the nurses nodded dutifully, heading into the room to guide the adults away, a few hung back to mutter between themselves.

“You think this’ll work?” one whispered. “It’s a lot of kids.”

“Trust me,” Nia said, as though she’d been in on the conversation. “I once put a Kryptonian to sleep, anything else is a piece of cake.”

The nurses were left speechless after that and quickly set about helping the last of the adults file out of the room. Once it was clear, Nia let herself relax into her power, focusing on the kids.

She hadn’t been looking before, but now she was in the room with them, she could see just how varied the species of these children really were. Some blinked with a second set of eyelids, others had horns growing from underside their chin. Some had scales, others fur; some species she recognised, but most Nia was certain she had never seen before.  

She hesitated, breath catching in her chest. Just how many species here had slipped through the system? The fact hospitals held no records for them, no drugs on hand to treat them, truly unnerved her. Were these the species that had been living here in secret, who had never been registered officially by the US out of fear of persecution?

So many aliens had been living in Parthas long before the country had been offering out citizenship that Nia often forgot what it must have been like for those outside of her town. She remembered helping her mom during springtime, growing a selection of alien wildlife in their back yard to brew herbal remedies. That would have never been substantial if a true outbreak had ever hit, but Parthas had always been fortunate to avoid any serious medical crisis. But if it had… who was to say what could have happened?

But that had been then, and this was now. A time when aliens were meant to be treated as equal citizens, but how could that ever be true if they couldn’t receive the same medical care as their human compatriots?

The DEO wouldn’t have all the answers, but Nia wondered, maybe there was something more they could do to help than just this.

For right now though, she was needed here, and with the fire in her chest steadily rising within her, fit to burst, she knew she was ready.

The familiar warmth of her dream energy drummed through her blood, swarming down her arms all the way to the tips of her fingers. She splayed them wide, coils of blue light cascading down each digit before launching outward like unravelling springs. The room seemed to dim with the power of her energy as it began to disperse, drifting to the far corners of the ward, bouncing and swirling over the head of each child.

Many were in too much pain to realise what was going on, but the ones that still clung to lucidity stared up in wide-eyed awe, momentarily distracted by the alien lightshow.

Nia closed her hands together, drawing her arms in towards her chest. With that motion, each coil of dream energy exploded into a puff of blue mist. It rained down over the children, dazzling them in their last moments of conscious thought. Nia wasn’t kidding: her power was extremely potent in this form. She didn’t make a habit out of using it, but when she did, it was one hundred per cent effective.

She hadn’t yet met an alien immune to its effect, and fortunately this ward was no different. In seconds, the crying and screams had lulled into congested but calm breaths interspersed with a few chesty coughs. Nia wasn’t sure how long the effect would last, maybe a couple of hours if she was lucky, but at least for now these kids could rest.

But her work was far from over.

For the next hour, she stayed on the ward, jumping from room to room as deftly as she had Lena’s portals, helping relieve the children from their pain. The nurses thanked her time and time again, and while she was glad she could help, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Trisha had said.

When the last child had nodded off on the ward, Nia stole a few moments in private, retrieving her phone. Even with twelve thought tracks at his disposal, she didn’t want to call him away from his work and so she typed out a quick text instead. She was just about to slip her phone away when it buzzed in her hand. Nia scanned the response, a smile tugging at her lips.

The ward was still on high alert, and so it took Nia a few minutes to track Trisha down again.

“Dreamer?” Trisha asked, seeming to mistake her excitement for something else. “I’m sorry we’ve kept you for so long, I know you’re needed elsewhere, but I really wanted to thank you for everything you’ve—”

“It’s not necessary,” Nia said swiftly. “Like I said, I’m happy to help. In fact, I think there’s something more we might be able to do for you guys.”

Trisha’s eyebrow quirked uncertainly.

Nia breathed out a laugh. “I’ve just got off the phone with the DEO; with the hospital’s permission, they can analyse the readings of the unknown species you have here and use that data to link with their own records. They should be able to confirm what medicines can be used for pain relief and hopefully synthesise a few specialised drugs for those that won’t respond to what you have on hand.”

Trisha’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You can really do that? H-how long would something like that take?”

Nia’s smile widened. “Give us four hours.”

--

Fortunately, Trisha didn’t ask too many questions. Although what she’d said hadn’t been far from the truth, Nia couldn’t exactly go into detail about where a lot of the DEO’s records came from. While they had a pretty wide range of alien species on file, there was no denying that the Legion archive had more.

Using future technology to solve present problems. It wasn’t the worst thing they’d done where the spacetime continuum was concerned. Besides, if Brainy’s destiny was in the past, then his indispensable knowledge could absolutely guarantee these kids’ futures.

They were all being pulled in different directions today, and the second Brainy had seen her text explaining the situation – just like Nia – he hadn’t hesitated to do something about it. He had a hologram on cure duty with Lena, an algorithm set to link with the hospital’s records with the Legion’s archive, and a twelfth level intelligence ready to sink into synthetising a few new drugs along the way.

In just three and a half hours, Nia was flying back with the first supply, accompanied by Kara and J’onn to handle the bulk. This time, the hospital was abuzz with a different sort of energy. While there were still plenty of patients left in the unknown, word had started to get around. Hospital staff greeted her with smiles of relief, and nervous parents and guardians had begun talking amongst each other. Some had even realised they had a shared language in common and were translating the news from the nurses to others in the room. With a little more Legion help, Nia was sure they could get some translator technology sent over to bridge the last few gaps in communication.

The air felt lighter, the weight of the crisis a little easier to carry now it was being shared amongst so many helping hands. As the drugs were shared out and the DEO data analysis started reaching the hospital, more nurses filed out to retrieve the on-hand meds that would correspond with the correct alien biology.

The first successful dose was all it took, and hope began to spread quicker than any virus could ever dream. Maybe it wasn’t a cure, but it was proof that things could get better; with just a little more time, they could find a permanent solution, Nia was certain.

Change didn’t happen overnight, and there were still holes in the system that were in dire need of fixing, but for today, Nia took the win. With the adrenaline starting to wane and several day’s-worth of non-stop movement finally dragging her down, she realised that wasn’t all she needed to take.

Besides, if her visions were evading her in the waking world, maybe she could find the answers she needed with a more direct approach.

It was time she took a nap.