Anti anxiety.
I’VE BEEN LOOKING FOR THAT CAT ONE FOREVER
So mesmerized
The cat
Hey my followers with anxiety here’s some things that might help.
this for my followers with anxiety 🥺 i hope this helps
I did the breathing exercises and immediately got a smudge lightheaded before feeling 1000x better.
Didn’t even realize I was anxious
🤷♀️
Reblogging because I might need that, and perhaps you too
why is tumblr slaughtering my saturation
Hermes explaining why he gotta go fast
dionysus explaining why he’s Like That
All of these are so accurate it hurts
Also Hermes, God of messengers
And Eris, Goddess of discord and chaos
Damian doesn’t like fish.
He tolerates the meat that is served at the manor most nights, even though it sits heavily and unpleasantly in his stomach. He puts up with Shepherd’s pie and spaghetti bolognaise and pork ribs, because the others seem to love it, singing praises for Alfred’s cooking every night, and Damian doesn’t want to appear ungrateful, or unusual, or out of place.
Then one night Alfred makes steamed fish, cooked in lemongrass and ginger, drizzled with soy sauce.
“I’ve noticed you don’t exactly enjoy our usual meals,” he says, and before Damian can protest, continues, “I looked up this recipe for you, I hope you’ll like it.”
Damian doesn’t like fish.
“Thank you,” he says, and then eats every bite. Alfred seems genuinely pleased and it fills him with warmth, which makes up for the way his stomach curled at the unpleasant texture.
Damian learnt to cook at a young age.
He was always busy, with lessons and training, his grandfather always pushing him to do more, to do better. Sometimes in the evening, however, he would follow his mother to the kitchen, where she would chop onions, fry spices in oil, and roll out rotis, getting flour in her pinned-back hair.
“Why do you cook?” he asked her, “You don’t have to.”
His mother laughed. “I like to,” she said, “Do you want to try rolling the roti?”
His first attempt came out uneven and oddly pentagonal, nothing like the perfect circles his mother made. She still ate it, and told him that it was the best roti she’d ever had.
Damian learnt to cook at a young age.
He also learnt that love was when someone made you a food you didn’t like and you ate it anyways and loved it, because you loved them.
His mother came back from Delhi once and brought him jalebis. “They were your favourite when you were younger,” she said.
Damian was eight now, and didn’t like the heavy, syrupy sweetness of jalebis anymore. But his mother was holding the gold-patterned box that she’d brought just for him, her hand resting gently in his hair, and he could feel a warmth rising up inside him, feeling like it would choke him if it got too big. He would have eaten a thousand jalebis to feel like this all the time.
Damian doesn’t understand a lot of things.
“Sorry I’m late, Alfred,” Richard says breathlessly. “I brought ice cream?”
Damian doesn’t hear Alfred’s reply, but it makes Richard laugh. There are footsteps, and then Richard enters the living room where they’ve all gathered, looking wind-blown and ruffled but delighted to see all his siblings together. Damian knows how rare it is for all of them to gather in the manor, and he appreciates the opportunity to spend time with his family.
“What kind of ice cream did you get?” Drake asks.
“Mint chocolate chip,” Richard replies, and there’s a general cheer of appreciation through the room.
“My favourite,” Stephanie declares.
Richard grins, and comes around the sofa to give her a hug from behind. “That’s why I got it.”
Damian hates mint chocolate chip. He’d told Richard that once, when they were up on a rooftop after a night of patrol, expressing his disgust for the mismatched flavours at great length while Richard laughed. “How could anyone hate mint chocolate chip?” he’d asked with an exaggerated gasp of offence, but he’d seemed amused.
Damian loves Richard more than he’s loved anyone in his life. If Richard brings him mint chocolate chip ice cream, then Damian will love it too.
Alfred comes into the room with a tray laden with bowls, each filled with that brown-speckled green concoction. Damian waits for his, but when Alfred reaches him, he unearths a bowl of vanilla and hands that to Damian instead.
Damian stares at it. He’s so surprised that he barely remembers to thank Alfred.
“I got vanilla for you,” Richard tells him, as he settles into the couch next to him with a contented sigh. He grins. “I remember how much you hate mint chocolate chip.”
Damian doesn’t understand a lot of things.
He knows the way Richard’s arm curls around his shoulders, however, and the way his grip tightens slightly as Damian leans into him, watching the others bicker over what movie they’re watching. Damian eats his vanilla ice cream, that Richard got specifically for him, and feels that familiar warmth.
It feels like love.
Kind of obsessed with how Loid and Yor accidentally con themselves into being the perfect parents. Neither of them grew up with stable parental figures, and both of them probably consider normal family life as out of reach for them due to their jobs. But they also are both convinced that the other one IS normal and knows what normal family life is.
So you have this adorable dynamic where Loid constantly seeks Yor’s advice and approval that he’s doing ok as a dad, because surely if civilian mom thinks so, he can’t be ruining the mission. And Yor is constantly seeking Loid’s advice and approval that she’s doing ok as a mom, because this guy has had a “real” wife and everything, she must be doing something right if he’s keeping her around. Neither of them know what the hell they’re doing, but out of pure respect and love for each other, AS CIVILIANS, they actually end up giving really good advice and supporting each other so well, and accidentally forge a true family unit. It’s just…it’s so cute yall
Everyone’s doing the forced marriage thing right? What about mutually agreed upon marriage?
Mine is mutually agreed upon from both involved parties.
I don’t like the idea of them not getting a word in about their lives.
I want them to get out of the marriage or engagement and only get back together because they missed each other or fell in love.
I mean, find a way to break up- actually break up so they can properly get together on their own terms is a nice thing to see.
That way it’s their decision and no one else’s.
For a homophobe, Chuck Dixon sure did queer-code a lot of characters.
i actually think my arrangement of this chart flawlessly explains the logic behind the dynamic of any two characters listed character interpretation discourse over ur welcome all
In which Tim and Jason stumble upon a plot convenient device that transports the user into a different dimension/universe. Except it’s broken and they don’t know how to work it yet so after they accidentally trigger it they’re pretty much just tripping through the multiverse in the hopes that maybe they’ll eventually end up back in their universe
————————————
————————————
In a universe currently experiencing a zombie apocalypse
————————————
Excellent
One thing I’ve always found funny is how, based on the artist, Batman’s mask/cowl has different levels of Angry Face. Sometimes it’s smooth, no expression. Sometimes there are slight frown lines/an indent over the eyebrows. Sometimes it’s full-on contorted angry frown.
Anyway what I’m saying is Batman has a bunch of different cowls expressing varying levels of anger and he chooses based on his current mood.
—
Tim: Uh-oh
Duke: What?
Tim: Bruce has Cowl Number 14 on today.
Duke: …okay? What does that mean?
Tim: Look at him.
Bruce: >>>>>>:-(
Duke, whispering: Holy shit…
—
Dick: Hey Bruce! How’s it going?
Bruce: *pulls on Cowl Number 5* :|
Dick: Wow! That good? Did Clark or Selina come over last night?
Jason: Gothamites are the most masochistic group of people on the face of the earth.
Tim: Gothamians
Jason:
Jason: what
Tim: Gothamians.
Jason: The fuck are you saying? Gothamites.
Tim: Gothamians.
Jason: Stop it. You’re wrong. Gothamites.
Tim: Gothamians
Jason: Do I need to go into the whole etymology of the fucking word, you little goober? It’s Gothamites. No one in history has ever said Gothamians. Shut up.
Tim:
Jason:
Tim: Gothamians
—
Bruce: Where’s Tim?
Jason: don’t worry about it
Bruce: …Now I’m worried about it. Where is he?
Dick, running into the room, distressed: Bruce, Tim has a dictionary glued to his head—
Tim, texting discreetly on his phone:
Tim: hey b
Bruce: What is it. I’m busy.
Tim: how busy
Bruce: Busy with Clark.
Tim: 👽 🍆
Bruce: Stop.
—
Tim: gremlin. r u back from your shonen tournament arc
Damian: I’m beating the Joker with a socket wrench.
Tim: owo
Damian: Please do not tell Father.
—
Tim: jason r u available
Jason: What do you want, goober?
Tim: i need help i brought Bernard up on a gotham bank gargoyle to see the city and he kissed me and my grapple fell but he doesnt know so im playing it cool but we’re stuck up here please come help me can you climb the gargoyle and lower a grapple to me so he doesn’t see please help i don’t want to look like an idiot i will do anything 😞😞😞
Jason: You’re stuck on a gargoyle with your conspiracy theorist boyfriend?
Tim: ye :(
Jason: LOL
Tim: JASON
Jason: Alright just play it cool. I’ll come find you. But you owe me one.
