i used to be so good at writing strong, thoroughly-researched, thoroughly-edited essays.
as a kid in hs, my teacher literally came up to me, holding my 40 page essay on the intersection of the European witch hunts and capitalism/exploitation/gender roles (it was supposed to be 7 pages...whoops) and went like "this is literally a master's-degree level thesis. what are you doing?? you could literally use this as your final dissertation in a master's program, what the fuck."
NOW??? NOW?? you'd think I'd be oh so skilled. but alas. i can barely piece together two ideas. adhd skill-regression is so so real. im SOBBING
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so bc i am a Gross Dude my friends i and sometimes rate our burps and my coworker (who is a teen girl) burped in front of me once and i instinctively rated it
so now every time she burps she looks to me hopefully for a rating and bc she has delicate little baby burps i now have to create an entirely new Burp Rating System unique to her bc i rate anything below a 5 and she looks at me like this
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The @tmntaucompetition is no place for a tiny tot to be left alone, especially with all these rowdy teens running amok. My heart just broke when I saw little Kid Leo crying, @angelpuns and @red-rover-au, and I knew Replica Leo's would too. Problem is they're probably going to be searching for a while cuz Replica Leo is looking for other unsupervised children. Oops.
This is in response to these couple of threads I've seen going around: COMIC 1 - COMIC 2 - COMIC 3 - COMIC 4 - COMIC 5
You kids need to all calm down!
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I wish I was treated like I was physically little.
I wish I was greeted with a smile and a kind word by adults who didn't know me. I wish my shyness was seen as cute and not 'weird'. I wish my mistakes were corrected gently and forgiven. I wish I was carried to bed as I grew tired and tucked in with a kiss. I wish that when I grew frustrated and cried it was met with "aww, it's OK" and not sneers and laughter and "why are you acting like a baby? Grow up." I wish that when I got overwhelmed it was understood that I needed some quiet rest and I wasn't pushed to keep going.
I know lots of adults didn't give these graces even when I was physically little, but even the little bit that I got made it just that much easier. I'm still so small in such a big world, and it's just gotten rougher as I got bigger.
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jason todd reads classics & damian wayne reads warrior cats and they’re both constantly beefing with jason acting like he’s all high & mighty and damian explaining every single plot line in warrior cats to convince him that warrior cats can be sophisticated, like there’s “racism & heaven and hell & a complex religion & class structure” and jason always responds with “they’re talking cats”
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Cass doesn’t look, she glares
Tim doesn’t smile, he grimaces.
Damian doesn’t speak, he growls.
Jason doesn’t raise his voice, he screams.
Duke doesn’t watch, he scrutinizes.
Dick doesn’t smooth talk, he manipulates.
Steph doesn’t laugh, she cackles. Manically.
Bruce’s children are a little damaged, a little odd. If not in big ways, then in the smallest of ways that so clearly sets them apart from everyone else. Their line of work demands it, their breeding encourages it.
It’s just how they were made. Once they’ve been touched by the shadows of Gotham, it never leaves their veins.
It’s in their blood now. It’s seen in their eyes, their smiles. The twitch of their face, the narrowing of their gaze.
Gotham’s embrace never lets you go.
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