I Saw A Post On Twitter By A European Saying Americans Are Fake For Their Random Compliments To Strangers

Only thing I will add: you do not have to be okay with it. You can continue to be disgusted by what you see in fandom spaces, that is okay. Most people have those things. What is not okay, is being a bully about it. Blocking doesn't mean you hate them, merely that you don't want to see their stuff. Block, filter out, ignore, whatever works. Just - don't be a dick :)

Just Be Yourself

Dance wild, free, heart full of glee, No care who sees, just you and me. Love deep, true, no fear or doubt, Give heart in full, shout it out.

Sing loud, clear, let spirit soar, No need for praise, open the door. To joy inside, let music play, Chase blues away, come what may.

Live bright, bold, no time to hide, Grab life's hand, let passion guide. Each day a gift, a chance to shine, Make life your own, a love so fine.

No rules to bend, no time to lend, Just be yourself, a faithful friend. To heart and soul, stay ever true, Dream big dreams, make wishes come true.

~

Disclaimer: Google Gemini and I cooked up this little rhyme!

Bartender: thanks for stopping that bar fight, spiderman. Can I get you a drink? It’s on the house

Peter: thank you, but I can’t

Bartender: why not

Peter:

Bartender:

Peter, trying not to give his age away: I’m pregnant

Hey can i rip your wings off? Haha sorry that was wierd. Can i tear your halo from your head? Haha omg that was so random. Can i tear the divinity from your wretched form, removing you from the guiding hand and will of that which made you? Can i supplant your divine spark with wires and cables? Can i replace your golden halo with a golden circuitboard? Hypothetically

With or without OCD, this cannot be good for people's mental health. You're not the singular force that makes the world go around, sometimes it's okay to just exist, to just take things at face value. Guilt tripping people, labeling them as bad, most of what that does is put people down, make them doubt themselves and their surroundings, and can cause people to spiral.

tumblr: constantly be aware of your own privilege. constantly be aware of your capacity of be evil. hey i know you really like that new piece of media but make sure you're aware of all of the problematic elements all the time. hey i noticed you reblogged a post from a designated Bad Person so please make sure you do a thorough background check on everyone you reblog from to make sure they're not bad, otherwise people might get the wrong idea about you. always be aware of everything bad that's happening in the world all the time because silence is violence. i see you not reblogging this post btw. activist burnout is a privilege so be aware of that. xyz people are required to reblog this post. if you're not constantly fighting against designated Bad People you are inherently complicit and therefore a Bad Person.

people with ocd:

i'm not the best at singing. but i'm gonna sing anyway dude. i'm not the best at painting. but i'm still going to paint. my dancing will never see a stage. but it's perfect for early mornings in my bedroom and late nights with people i love. so what does this mean? it means that people are designed to do. not to be the best. just to do. if you're doing what you enjoy, then you don't have to be the best. you just have to enjoy it. you have to live.

Dreams to Unfold

hope, he wrote

not a whole poem

but a note in bold

daily diary reminder to his soul

just a simple idea

that words matter

when fighting fear

so he chose, hope

in this pivotal year

when what we hold

is dearer than dear

all we will ever know

that the seeds we sow

grow an intimate garden

flower petals painted gold

dreams waiting to unfold

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

©️ @followcb ☆ April 28, 2024

I love kids they’re all like.. “when i grow up i’m gonna be an astronaut and a chef and a doctor and an olympic swimmer” like that self confidence! That drive! That optimism! Where does it go

i do love the idea of the Justice League finding out Batman’s identity and the fact that he’s actually just a tired vigilante dad and immediately discrediting his spooky-scary-intimidating reputation, and Bruce just being devastated about it. he worked so hard on that reputation, on that respect, and it’s all down the drain just like that. nobody flinches away from his glare anymore, because they’ve seen him glare at Red Hood and get a spoonful of mashed potato flung into his face for the effort. nobody cares about his threats anymore, because he tried to threaten Red Robin to go home and rest one time and Tim just giggled at him deliriously before mocking his tone and stealing his coffee. they’ve seen him pick a splinter out of a whining Nightwing’s finger mid-meeting. Damian once called him a condomless harlot to his face when he told him not to bring his swords onto the watchtower. he’s lost control.

he decides he wants the fear factor back and in all his brilliant genius, he decides the best way to go about that is to invite the league round for a fancy dinner party, specifically so he can use all his ‘brucie wayne’ acting skills to channel the essence of every creepy-rich-guy-in-haunted-manor movie he has ever seen in his life. it is the only time his kids have been fully onboard and willing to contribute to one of his plans without any complaints. they almost seemed more eager to pull it off than he was.

they spend the entire day making the manor look old and slightly abandoned, much to Alfred’s displeasure, and ensure that the only lighting is a fuck ton of candles, just enough to light the halls while leaving the corners and edges shadowy and ominous. Damian is allowed to have some of his more ‘skittery’ pets roam the manor freely for the night, causing occasional scritches and scratches to come from the ceilings. all of the kids dress in their best funeral attire, apart from Jason who gleefully pulls on an old white shirt stained with blood from when Tim crashed through his window with a stab wound, requesting a medkit.

when the league arrive they’re greeted by all the kids lined up on the staircase, staring at them blankly and ominously, while Bruce gives them all a large grin and ushers them into the creepy looking dining room. the league are somewhat nervous.

during the dinner the kids act completely different than the league have seen them in-mask. polite, cordial, and refusing to show an ounce of emotion. they pick at their food and only speak in vague sentences that refer to various horrific events of their past. Bruce has never been prouder.

the first close call they have to breaking character is when Bruce presents a bottle of red wine without any kind of label. as he pours a slightly disturbed Diana a glass, she asks where he got it from. Bruce happily gestures to Jason as says ‘my second eldest procured it especially for you, earlier today.’

Diana looks across the table at where Jason is grinning eerily at her by candlelight, still visibly stained with blood, eyes glowing slightly green. she pales, and Tim knows he can’t watch her shakily lift the glass to her lips without bursting out laughing. he refuses to be the one who fucks up first, so he dramatically stands up and declares he must ‘go feed the experiments’ before storming out the room. ‘the experiments’ are in reference to the pen of rabbits outside that glow in the dark because Damian rescued them from a testing facility, but given the environmental context it sounds much more sinister.

Jason joins him by the pen to also start wheeze-crying in private about 20 minutes later, because apparently after Oliver Queen had finished with his bbq rib, Damian had leaned over and without blinking stared into his eyes to blankly state ‘i would love to feed your bones to my animal friends, if you don’t need them anymore.’ and from the other end of the table Jason had snorted wine up his nose from how hard he was trying not to break.

amazingly, they never break character, although it came pretty close when after hearing another skitter from somewhere above, Stephanie climbed up from the table into the crystal chandelier and deftly returned to present the table with a large tarantula cradled in her hands, to which Damian stood up and declared, ‘ah, dessert! i will help pennyworth prepare it.’ before taking the animal and leaving to put his beloved spider back in it’s enclosure. the league genuinely seemed to be under the impression they were about to be served a tarantula-based desert, and upon seeing their faces at this realisation Dick had to pretend he’d dropped a fork on the ground so he could duck by Bruce’s chair and stuff a napkin in his mouth while he got his laughter under control. Bruce pats his shaking son’s back below the table cloth, determinedly staring at their guests with that same creepy-grin he’d kept up the entire night.

every member of the league makes their excuses to leave early, much to Bruce’s exaggerated disappointment. the second the last of them is out the door Alfred turns to face the family and says ‘mission accomplished. now get this manor back to it’s proper state.’ and they have the spend the rest of the night cleaning.

totally worth it, in Bruce’s mind. none of the JL will look him in the eye for weeks afterwards, and it was honestly the most successful attempt at family bonding they’d ever had. he wonders if they should make it a monthly thing. It’s also how they find out Damian’s a fucking theatre kid with a gift for the arts which is another revelation in of itself