Honestly I Think Its So Funny That In The Marvel Universe, When Someones Really Smart, They Have Like

Honestly I think it’s so funny that in the Marvel universe, when someone’s really smart, they have like eight to twelve doctorates and they finished high school at age twelve.

And then over in the DC universe it’s like. This is Tim Drake. He’s a genius. He keeps cloning his loved ones. He dropped out of highschool. Over there is Barry Allen. He can reverse engineer a spaceship in less than a minute. He is such a good chemist he’s still going to be known as the best chemist in 4,000 years. He has a bachelor’s degree.

when the autism is being an actual mental health problem instead of making me obsess over fictional characters again:

"How many people do i follow? Its not that much, probably around 400 maybe, haha"

1000+

Tumblr is not telling me the exact number

Curse you weird site thing

Im not even gonna see how long ive had this blog for i dont wanna get flashbanged

there are literally worse things than being in a saw trap like for instance openly expressing that you have wants and needs and are a real person

I changed opinions.

Tim is gonna be "suffers-a-lot" immortal

I have realised the fun in killing Tim, thanks dc

I read Banshee In A Well by liverobinreaction and, specifically chapter 2 and 3 changed my whole perspective. I love this fic so much go give it a read.

So yeah, that's Tim's type of immortality exactly.

I feel like this needs its own post

One day i'll expand on this i think

I have a record of loving immortal aus

tim is a dog that chose, chooses, and will forever choose his master. he’s a guard dog. he would be allowed on the bed, if and when he ever asks. he rarely does, keeps himself curled up in his bed at the fire. he isn’t kept close to heel once he grows enough to be comfortable wandering, because when his master whistles, he comes. he’s loyal—the hand that feeds him and pats him is the same as the one chokes him and hurts him, but he will never bite it. he eyes it, wary, but doesn’t flinch from it. he chooses this. he will take it all as it comes. he knows his master hurts him because he’s sick. he is a guard dog, but before that, he’s his master's dog. he’s a support animal. he’s a pet. he guards, because that’s what his master’s pets do. he’s loyal. he cannot blame a sick man for being sick.

kon is a work dog, a sheepdog. he guards. his master, the shepherd, isn’t around. he has handlers. they are not kind, but kon is not a family dog. he expects this, and to him they are kind. he knows no better. kon doesn’t know the warmth of a fire, except when his master's parents allow him in when he comes with the sheep. he takes his lack of supervision as trust, as freedom, wears it as pride. he still comes when he’s whistled for. he doesn’t like how his handlers turned him into a showdog, he wants to work, but he is forced to like it. it gives him purpose. when his master, or no, the shepherd comes, he tells him he did a good job, he takes him into town. then he is glad to act as a show dog. then he is happy. but the moments are fleeting. he doesn’t let himself mind. he’s a worker. there are sheep to be guarded.