#I'm not saying I NEED for them to have this kid

[madamechrissy]

Stripclub Owner Sukuna

Stripclub owner Sukuna x Fem! Stripper reader- headcanons

This will be a full oneshot or mini seriess, if you wanna get tagged in this drop a comment. <3 MDNI- warnings- OBSESSED Sukuna, oral sex (both receiving) fingering, spitting, cum swallowing (both of em lol) he's almost a little Yandere tbh lol, explicit sex, mentions of drugs, Sukuna being whipped lol

Stripclub Owner Sukuna- who loves what he does, the money he makes, the women, the entire atmosphere. What more could he really need in life?

Stripclub Owner Sukuna lights up a blunt with his co owner, Toji, as they lounge back on one of the bright red Sofa's, watching their girls dance around them while they hold business meetings. Sukuna certainly doesn't mind beautiful women, nor does he mind snorting coke right off them.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna throws back a shot, when suddenly he sees someone so different, so fucking pretty it makes his heart thud in his chest. He can barely stop himself from yanking you right away from this. He's slicking back pastel hair when Toji introduces you so casually, wearing a pretty silver bikini that shows too much of your sexy body. You look shy? You look nervous?

Stripclub Owner Sukuna takes your hand then, smirking at you, watching the blush decorate your cheeks, when he finds you're going to be a dancer, he immediately wants to say no, dance for just him, a level of possession he's never even felt with his girlfriends. Sukuna's shared plenty of women, but if he got you!?

Stripclub Owner Sukuna smacks Toji for even bringing you here later, and Toji scoffs. 'She has a kid and shit, she'll make top dollar here' Sukuna falters at such news. 'Don't ya think she'll make bank?' 'Tch, of course she will... it's just she's so...' Toji snorts. 'you got the hots for her, huh? Well she ain't some easy girl, I know her'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna knows he must have you, when you're stepping around the stage, and he's eyeing you, sitting right in front of the stage as you get on your knees, crawling toward him and smiling shyly. 'how're you a shy stripper, huh? not gonna work' he huffs, and you tilt your head, hand slipping down his tie. 'No allure in a shy dancer, Mr. Sukuna?'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna loses his mind when he hears his name spilled from your glossy lips, as he thinks of shoving his cock deep inside that mouth, so close to his when you turn. You bend over, ass right in the air, begging for a smack as you look back at him, hair falling over your face. 'Why're you here?' he demands, eyeing the curve of your back, cock hard like he's some pathetic teenager or something.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna tenses when you say - 'I need the money, isn't it why everyone does this?' 'Toji says you got a kid' you tense then, turning toward him nervously, as the stagelights glimmer all over your skin. 'That a problem?' Sukuna shakes his head. "Nah, lots of girls here do...' You exhale. 'I'm a single mom, my friend can watch her at night, why not work while she's asleep? I can spend my time with her'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna admires the fuck out of you as you dance your pretty ass off, but he hates the men that see you, see you in just your little bottoms and tassells, breasts bouncing, ass jiggling as you shake it, as you move. You're a whole star quickly, the few hours a night you come in you make bank, but as soon as you leave, he's in his office, jerking it to you, imagining those nipples, that pussy he sees hints of with your spandex panties.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna On one particular night forgets to lock the door, you're still out there dancing but he can't take it, you're too fucking sexy, he's picturing burying his face in that nice ass of yours as you step inside, shutting the door quickly when you see it, his enormous dick in his hands, covered in precum. You gasp, looking away quickly. 'shit I'm sorry, it's my ex... he's such an ass and I didn't want him to see me...'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna pauses, in shock as you look back down at him, licking your lower lip. 'I'm interrupting...' you come closer though, watching, breath catching in your throat. 'Want me to beat him the fuck up? ruin him?' Sukuna murmurs, voice husky, when you keep walking towards him, and he slowly strokes, from the base to the tip of his veiny length, acting so casual. 'No, you don't have to do all that, you're already so good to me' he laughs then, shaking his head. 'You are, maybe I should... be good to you?'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna can't form a thought when you're stroking his cock, leaning so close, lips just a breath from his, taking two of his fingers and sucking his precum off them, cheeks hollowing. Sukuna loses his control then, using those two fingers to slip so deep you cry out, earning his groan, uncaring if anyone heard. He's curling them up in your walls as you stroke, his eyes laser focused on your pretty face when he grips your hair by the nape of your neck. 'wanna suck me, huh brat?' he tries to keep it together, but when you nod eagerly, on your knees, he can't take how good your throat feels.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna has his cock fucking up into your throat, his salty precum against your tongue, and he wonders if it's some dream it has to be, you're too fucking beautiful to just be doing this, you shouldn't even be working, he thinks. He'd like you just naked around his house, to fuck you on every surface, fill you up with so many kids you'd never leave. Sukuna is groaning while you suck him greedily, looking up at him with dilated, beautiful eyes, making him simultaneously want to fuck you and want to make love to you, stupid insane shit that irritates him.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna stutters when you suck harder, and he's cumming deep in your throat, not meaning to. No he wants to fuck your pussy, not this, but you make him cum so fast it's stupid, swallowing him with a pretty smile, as you lean up on shaky legs. He presses a kiss to your lips, desperate and messy, tasting all of his cum all over your mouth. You're gasping, until the door opens, and you pull apart, seeing an amused Toji. You are losing your mind later as you clean up to go home, wondering what's gotten ahold of you, when Sukuna is waiting right outside.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna loves it when you look down so shy and pretty, you're biting your lower lip to death, he releases it from the grip of your teeth. 'you free tonight, brat?' you blink in confusion. 'you want...' 'want you at my place, spread wide f'me, yeah?' you gasp at the thought, shaking your head then. 'I'm not, I have to get home to my kid... but tomorrow night?' he nods, ushering you to your shitty car, picturing you in something so much better soon, leaning over with a smirk as he seatbelts you in.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna now that he's had a taste, he can't stop thinking of you, when you're at work the next day you're quickly in his office again, this time he's got you grinding on his lap, slick arousal pooling in your little outfit. 'I'll fuckin pay you triple, take the day off' "Mr. Sukuna...' 'Take. The. Day. Off.' Sukuna finally gets you home, having you bent over his couch before you can blink, ripping your pretty costume to shreds, pumping you so full of his cock you're trembling, shaking, head falling back as he fills you so good, slamming your cervix.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna has never felt anything like you, like your cunt pulsing around his cock, like his balls slapping your twitchy little clit, as you're sobbing it hurts so good, tears streaming down your pretty face while he rails his cock so deep. Sukuna busts deep in you as he wraps a big hand around your throat, fucking into you over and over, feeling you milk his cock for all he's got. 'Gonna fill you the fuck up, huh brat? gonna drip on the goddamn stage'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna has your pussy on his mouth when he's busted in you, starting to lap all the gooey white cum from your pretty pussy. 'Sukuna! ah!' you've never felt like this, so fucked out as his tongue scoops all your cum out, he's leaning over you, spitting it right into your mouth, chuckling. 'pathetic, just how I fuckin need you'

Stripclub Owner Sukuna is pathetic for you, he doesn't let you leave, he pays you for another day, fucking you in every position, at some point he's holding you upside down, you're bobbing on his cock as he's gripping your ass, moaning against your hole, you're falling apart, so weak and sore. when you finally have to go home, because you have your kid, Sukuna can't stop thinking about you, about how he wants you to have his babies, to be under him every goddamn night, so excited when you come into work, only to see you devastated.

Stripclub Owner Sukuna demands to know what's wrong, only to see your shady ass ex, who wants to saunter up to him like he's shit, you shake your head, but soon Sukuna is beating the fuck out of him. 'you have no clue who he is, Mr. Sukuna...' you tell him then, earning Sukuna's chuckle, his big grin. 'You don't know who I am, baby'

Soooo this is kinda a tease of what's to come for this lil storyyy (lmk if you're interested in the full version!) <3

permatags- @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @n1vi @aldebrana @indiewritesxoxo @loafteaw @moonlitwitchdaisy - also taggingggg- @naammiii @msniks @1worm1 <3

[frownyalfred]

Since we believe the older Jason gets, the more he looks /acts like Bruce, if he attends a gala because of an obligation (i.e. Alfred guilt trips him and the others) how often does he get mistaken as his dad?

Does he take a little advantage and pretends with the more drunker socialites, and tricks them into donating to the lesser known charities that he knows get ignored and directly impact Gotham's poorer neighborhoods?

(Or does he just starts rumors to mess with them all about his dad's rich boy myth. He def makes shifts the hors d'eourves into almost small chilly dogs if he can)

"Mr. Wayne. There you are!"

Jason turned around, smiling wide enough his jaw hurt. With the slim-cut suit, the thin glass of champagne in his hand, and the angle of his shoulders, the whole move was practically a flourish. It was how Bruce did it, after all -- and frankly? It didn't feel too bad.

The true joy came, however, from seeing the faces of the two women as his identity registered. Their smiles tightened, but didn't disappear entirely. Not Bruce Wayne. Close -- but no cigar.

"Mr. Wayne is my father," Jason said, just a little lower than Bruce normally would. He let his eyes settle on the first woman -- blonde, thin lips, eyes narrowed -- and tilted his head, just a fraction. "But I get that all the time. It's flattering, really."

Was it?

"My mistake. You look just like him from behind," the blonde woman said, her strained smile returning. "Jason, yes? Truly remarkable."

Jason swapped his champagne glass into his left hand, holding out his right to her. "Jason Todd. And that's what I strive for at events like these -- remarkable."

The other woman laughed a little at that, breaking ranks with her friend. She was a little older, with more wrinkles on her face than she should have, at her age. A smoker, probably. "Jessica."

Jason shook her offered hand, giving her a smile. "A pleasure, Jessica."

"Anne," the blonde woman added, like an afterthought. Jason hadn't missed the way she'd avoided giving her name when they'd shaken.

Jason skipped right over that tidbit. "Are you looking for Bruce, then? I can point you in the right direction, but you might need to call a cab. He's at Wayne Manor tonight, unfortunately. A little under the weather."

If you can call three broken ribs and a concussion "under the weather."

"Oh, how awful," Jessica said, holding a hand over her mouth. She turned to Anne. "Did you know about this?"

"Of course not," Anne said, eyes narrowing in on Jason again. "Is he alright? It's not like him to miss an event like this."

Jason realized, idly, that was, in fact, Anne Regis. And that he was, in fact, standing at the Regis Charity night. Which meant Anne was -- in all likelihood -- pissed by Bruce's nonarrival. And disappointed in his replacement, if the way her lips pursed meant anything.

"Well, I'm sure he'll make the next one," Jason offered, shrugging one shoulder. Bruce's suit pulled a little, reminding him that silk and satin had less wiggle room than spandex and Kevlar weave. "Fear not, I did bring his check. And his checkbook, if the one he wrote wasn't...satisfactory enough."

It was telling, how Anne's eyes didn't light up at the idea of a larger gift. It meant that this event wasn't really about raising money -- it never was. It was about seeing and being seen. And Anne Regis had wanted to cash in on Bruce Wayne's presence, not his money. His social standing, his charm, his glamor -- not his checkbook.

"That's lovely, dear. What a thoughtful son." Anne glanced over her shoulder, indicating she was about to excuse herself. "Jessica, it looks like Roger is back. Why don't we excuse ourselves--" heh "--and say hello?"

Jessica gave Jason a warmer smile than Anne. "Stay sharp, kid."

"Tell Bruce I said hello," Anne said, with a nod that might have been charming, several decades ago. "We'll have to do brunch soon."

They left, disappearing back into the sea of people. As soon as they were out of sight, Jason diverted to the back bar, setting down his glass of champagne.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked him, taking the glass before Jason could even look for a discard tray.

Jason glanced at the impressive array of bottles, suddenly understanding why Bruce tended to stick to soda water or seltzer at these events. Every single word he'd traded with the women had been like a spar of its own. He needed to stay sharp. Sharper than he did, normally.

"Diet coke, lime, please," Jason said, digging into his pocket and pulling out a crumpled twenty. He put it in the tip jar, not missing the grateful spark in the bartender's eyes.

"Right away, sir."

[tookishcombeferre]

I'm a 30 year old transmasc non-binary person. I saw the movie Atlantis: The Lost Empire when I was 7 in the theater. My dad's dad had just died, and we weren't all that close. But, it really helped me to see Milo process the death of his own grandfather at the time. I think Atlantis came out about a year(?) after my dad's dad died? Anyway, I really always related to Milo even if I couldn't understand why at the time. (Now I get it.) I just watched the movie again because I wanted to, and my toddler watched bits and pieces with me while we shared some tea. They watched me *bawl.* My mom's dad, though we never got to talk about the fullness of my experience before he died a little less than two years ago, was the only family member who just understood me with no words. He never knew my name or pronouns - so he never used them. But, he got *me.* His yard was where I could climb trees, feed birds, roughhouse, and do all the "forbidden boyish" stuff. I watched Robin Hood and The Sorcerer's Stone in his living room. I built towers up to the ceiling. I got to read Frankenstein on his porch when I was in the seventh grade. I'm pretty sure my first unabridged copy of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries was purchased for me by him. He was basically my dad or second-dad. Later, he would listen to me talk about my papers, my poems, and my stories and, in turn, I'd listen to the latest of his research in biophysics, when he was still a researcher, or I'd listen to him explain, in layman's terms, the newest experiments he would read about after he stopped doing his own stuff. These were our lost civilizations and genuine arrowheads. When Mr. Whitmore handed Milo the Shepherd's Journal and said the line "Our lives are marked by the gifts we leave our children, and this is your grandfather's gift to you." My own kid was pillowed on my shoulder. I heard that line at 7. I cried in the theater because it's sad. You don't have to have lived the line for it be sad. I needed to learn loss young so I could feel loss better older. Because, now? That line collapsed on me like a ton of bricks, but I didn't get crushed by those bricks. I had a hard hat and padding to protect me. Like I said, my grandfather was like my dad. He's not coming back. But, he has given me so much. He has left me so much, and I get to decide what I want to leave to my own kid someday. I get to decide what world, what legacy, and what I leave for my own child. Because, it wasn't just the journal that Thaddeus left for Milo. It was the values that allowed Milo to remain steadfast when standing up to people physically stronger than him. I remember that right now. Especially right now. It's not just the intellectual gifts my grandfather left me. It's the tenacity. It's the love. It's protectiveness. It's the gentleness. It's the grace. It's the desire to be curious. It's the *need* to know. It's quiet faith. It's the desire to do justice. It's the desire to see peace for the next generation. It's the desire to listen to all sides of an argument before saying my own piece while also knowing when things have gone way too far and need to be shut down. It's knowing when and how to give people space to grow in their own way and time. Because, while everyone else in my family was forcing me into dresses, my grandfather was letting me climb trees in jeans and sneakers. He also didn't bat an eyelash when I cut my hair off my junior year of high school. So, he may not be here. But, he lives in the gifts he left me. So, while, I got my vaccine at 7, it didn't take effect until 28. Even then, I'm only just starting to feel like I'm actually inoculated at 30.

We can't be afraid to keep inoculating the youth. Kids need to see death, loss, and such like in their media. Withholding it from them just makes them less equipped for these exact moments when they're older. I firmly believe that.

Dear, sweet, Littlefoot, do you remember the way to the Great Valley?  I guess so. But why do I have to know if you’re going to be with me? I’ll be with you. Even if you can’t see me. What do you mean I can’t see you? I can always see you.

The Land Before Time(1988) dir. Don Bluth

[tealvenetianmask]

Moxxie and His Weapons Grade Daddy Issues (Part 2)

How would Moxxie react to becoming a dad?

TLDR for part 1: Fans often overlook the magnitude of Moxxie's trauma and insecurity and the ways in which his issues make him rely heavily on both Millie and Blitz. He hasn't meaningfully worked through any of this, and I think we're going to need to contend with that in Season 3.

Let's start with the M&M relationship.

In lots of ways, Moxxie and Millie have a healthy, loving relationship- OBVIOUSLY. I actually think that one of the reasons why fans overlook their flaws is because they're so warm and sweet with each other, and from Season 1 onward, they were set up as a comforting relief from the repeated trainwrecks that stolitz kept making us watch. Okay. Let's give Moxxie and Millie credit and list the positives.

They recognize and celebrate each other's strengths. Moxxie LOVES when Millie kicks ass in battle. From the "Oh Millie" song all the way to his comments during the fight in Sinsmas, he's so smitten when she does her job well. Millie loves Moxxie's singing. She brags about his sexual prowess. She believes in his ability to excel on missions.

BOTH think each other are hot and aren't afraid to let the whole world know (sometimes in very inappropriate situations).

Both are motivated by helping each other. Millie, of course, will cut through dozens of goons to save Moxxie. Moxxie is motivated by Millie to stand up to Crimson. And to take the kill shot in Murder Family. She motivates him to set his ego aside in Unhappy Campers.

They share a zany, chaotic sense of fun.

Millie gives Moxxie a pep talk when her leg is in a fucking bear trap.

They seem to forgive each other's shortcomings easily. Millie followed up events in Exes and Ohs with "Next time, tell me if your daddy is a psychopath," and Unhappy Campers with "just don't do it again." Moxxie responds to Millie's outburst in Sinsmas with concern instead of judgment.

They give each other space for their various needs. Moxxie knows when to let Millie just spend time with her sister in Hell's Belles. Millie gives Moxxie time to do the investigation in Unhappy Campers "his way." And in turn (once he get through his freak out), Moxxie gives Millie the space and support necessary for her to enjoy her 15 minutes of fame.

Even with all of these genuine positives, I see some warning signs in their failures to communicate and Moxxie's utter dependence on the relationship.

Communication:

By the time we get Exes and Ohs, Millie has NO IDEA that Moxxie grew up in a mob family. I understand that it's because of trauma and concern for her that he keeps it secret. But they're a married couple and she knows nothing about his past. So Moxxie is carrying around a secret, and Millie is unable to help him with his trauma.

Moxxie refuses to ask for help from Millie when he needs it (Exes and Ohs, Unhappy Campers, just NOT COMING HOME without texting or anything when dealing with the "math nightmare" in Ghostfuckers). His need to prove himself actively harms their relationship in these situations.

Millie knows that Moxxie is insecure and traumatized (at least instinctively), so she waits until she ABSOLUTELY CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE before calling out his behavior. Millie waits until she reaches a boiling point to tell Moxxie to pay attention to her needs in Unhappy Campers. She supported Moxxie through an entire day of buying stupid art on the streets of LA before finally snapping about it after dark in Seeing Stars.

Now, Millie doesn't want to tell Moxxie about her pregnancy. And this is speculation, but I think that in addition to Millie grappling with her own emotions about this situation, she also doesn't want to sort out those emotions while having to take care of Moxxie's very intense emotions at the same time.

Dependence: First of all, it's okay to depend on your significant other for aspects of your wellbeing. Especially if it's mutual and especially if needs and capacities to give are properly communicated. But I do think their relationship is somewhat imbalanced.

Millie gives Moxxie a pep talk while her leg is in a fucking bear trap.

Millie's very often in a caretaker role, or making sure that Moxxie is being taken care of. She attends to his emotions in The Harvest Moon Festival, in Unhappy Campers, in Exes and Ohs... Even in Ghostfuckers, when Millie can't be present, she makes sure Loona is taking care of Moxxie. While sometimes one partner needs a lot of care, it CAN put a lot of pressure on the person who is doing all of the taking care.

It seems like usually, Moxxie's emotional needs come first, unless Millie demands to have hers met (i.e Unhappy Campers).

As explained above, Moxxie doesn't tell Millie about his emotional needs, so she has to do the emotional labor of figuring those emotions out before helping him with them.

I just . . . I love them, but I worry about them too.

Predictions for how Moxxie will react IF Millie decides to go through with the pregnancy:

These are predictions, obviously. The show very well might prove me wrong.

Personally, I'll think Moxxie will be overjoyed for about 5 minutes, because he loves Millie and has a fun and caring nature and wants to do a better job than his father did with him. And . . . oh shit . . . his father . . . he'll quickly start to freak out.

Moxxie's insecurity will play a role. Will he do a good job? No one can walk him through this, and he'll feel like if his kid ends up messed up, it will be HIS FAULT. And there's the masculine stereotypes that get involved when it comes to "being a good dad." I can picture Moxxie trying to build a crib from scratch and crying in the fetal position when the whole project falls apart. I can picture him getting stressed about the baby's health and early education and buying products that are marketed as "what the baby NEEDS" that are completely unnecessary, and all of this leading to a very frustrated Millie.

Moxxie will be extremely protective over Millie and their child. I think he won't want Millie going on assassin missions at all. He might fear that Crimson could want to hurt his child. I think the result is more perfectionistic planning and stressing and breaking down.

Moxxie has never been needed to this degree before. Millie is a self-sufficient person. With Millie's body going through terrifying changes and a huge shift in responsibility for both of them, he will have to be as present for her emotional needs as she is for his. He CAN'T get fully absorbed in fear or perfectionism or the need to prove himself, because he has to be there for his wife.

I also won't be surprised in Moxxie is faced with increased responsibility at work. Stolas doesn't know what he's doing, and are we getting more new I.M.P. employees too? Millie won't be there to take care of him, at least for a time, and he might actually have to lead other people. He's NOT READY for this.

So . . . is Moxxie capable of handling all of this if he goes through much needed character development?

I think so. He has the makings of a good partner and a good dad.

BUT I do expect at least one major blow-up (worse than the ones we've seen so far) along the way. And I hope it leads him to think very deeply about the baggage he brings and be open about this with Millie. Because they both deserve it, and they deserve to find happiness with each other, whether or not that involves a kid.

[chaoticwriting]

THE FATHER 3

So Danny and Babs go out for a nice evening date that weekend. It is so nice that they even return home safely and romantically and even promise for another date.

Well

That is what Danny and Babs wanted. But now here they are 1000 feet high in the air, looking down on Gotham. It is fine if it's just the two of them and it is part of Danny's plan. However, the one orchestrating the event is The Riddler that decides to bring the whole restaurant that they are dining at flying up high in the air.

Danny sighs as he watches the event unfolds. Standing up he brings his chair right next to Barbara and sits right next to her. Danny seriously needs to have one normal date because for the love of god even in highschool he can't take a break. It's like God is preventing him from having a normal date.

Danny holds Barbara's hands as he can see she is a little nervous about it all. I mean, they are now 1000 ft high in the sky. If she isn't afraid at all that is more impressive. Danny tries to make a conversation with her as they eat while everyone else is freaking out. Amidst the chaos, a couple is sitting beside each other talking and occasionally laughing as they eat.

Suddenly, a big explosion engulfs one part of the restaurant. Danny immediately perks up his senses because he can hear The Riddler panicking about something. Smiling at Barbara, Danny sends out a little clone of him to check what is going on.

To his surprise, Vortex is here thrashing the room where the explosion happened. His clone gets close to Vortex to ask him what happens.

Clone Danny: Vortex! What are you doing here?

Vortex: Phantom! I am in need of your assistance! Right now!

Clone Danny: Dude. Can't you see I am busy?

Vortex: I need you to help me find my relic. That damn bastard Zeus stole it from me.

Clone Danny: Goddamnit! Why the hell don't you go after him then?

Vortex: Clockwork says to go to you if I have any problem relating to the human realm.

Clone Danny: Uugggghhhh....... Of course CW is behind this. Just go back first. I will find your relic later. What is it that you lost anyway?

Vortex: It is my Pendant of Thunder. That is my first ever artifact. If you find it, I will even let you keep it.

Clone Danny: What? If you don't want it, why do you even care that it is stolen?

Vortex: It's not a matter that it is stolen. It is the fact that the one that stole is Zeus. I hate that guy.

Clone Danny: Fine! But come back later. That is none negotiable. I have a date and an attack from Gotham's Rouge is already bad enough.

Vortex: Grrrrrrr......fine. I will comply.

And with that, Vortex just disappears into the sky. Sighs. What is even happening anymore? He just wants a date. And shit is going so fast.

-In the dining room-

Danny: So do you have any plans for the future?

Barbara: Hmmm, I don't really have one. But I do wish to get married and have a kid or 2 running around.

Danny: *Stiffening smile* Only one or two? What about adoption?

Barbara: I mean they are cool. I don't have any negative thoughts on them. And there is this one guy I really like that runs an adoption centre. Such a fine young man.

Danny:*Blushes* Ehem. I'm sure that young man thinks you are lovely too, Barbara.

Barbara: You think? But that guy hasn't tried to make anything between us official yet. Not even boyfriend and girlfriend.

Danny: *Looks around* I'm sure that young man is looking for a nicer place to announce his plan to you.

Barbara: Hmmm, I certainly hope so. I don't like waiting for so long. I hear that guy has a lot of pursuers.

Danny:*Snorts* As if they could hold a candle to you. All they want is my money or because they think I am mysterious and dangerous like in their omegaverse fan fiction.

Barbara: *Giggles* That certainly is true. Though I must say some of the things in their fan fiction are 'spicy' to say the least. I even see some tags of your name in AO3.

Danny: Please don't mention that. My kids think that I don't know what is going on but my friends are having a blast making fun of me because of it.

Barbara: It's fine. It's not like they can hur-

*Booommm*

Danny & Barbara: Oh no.

Suddenly, it is almost as if gravity stops working for them. Some of them starts floating in the air as they can feel the air brushing through their face. No. They are not floating. The building is going down!

Realizing the severity of the situation, Danny makes hundreds of his clones as some of them go under the building to support it slowly to reduce the impact of downfall while the others go to take care of the other customers alone with the goons. In retrospect, the goons are very nice. They haven't been rude to him nor Barbara this whole time. And even only treats the adults roughly. So they honestly get a pass in Danny's book.

Danny meanwhile stands behind Barbara as she finishes her meal. He holds both her and her food with ectoplasm so they wouldn't move.

When the restaurant lands safely, Danny brings Barbara out of the restaurant towards his car. He can see Batman and his crew jumping across the building as they are fighting against Riddler's goon.

Danny drives them off to another place so that they can continue their date.

[athena5898]

We need people to figure out what a protest is, like in the history of the word and what we also did beyond that, cause these rallies they do? Where they go and just chant in their designated area without at least blocking something from happening? nah fuck that. That is a rally not a protest. If you are not causing harm to the system you are not protesting you are having a fucking outing. If you are asking me if you can bring your kid or dog to the "protest" it's not a fucking protest and you have no idea what a protest is. Shit is going to continue until people figure that out. You have to hold corrupted people in power at all levels accountable or nothing is ever going to happen.

I'm just so fucking sick and tired of hearing liberals cry and moan about how bad things are going to get and when you ask them what they are going to do? They tell you they are going to vote harder next time or something else. I was at a capital building with a bunch of queers yelling "The first pride was a riot" and they fucking passed the thing and what did we do? I kid you the fuck not we fucking PRAYED for the trans kid going to get hurt. They told us to sit on the floor and pray. Our queer ancestors are rolling in their fucking graves at that shit. The thing that gets me, is i'm pretty damn sure that the younger gens are not going to put up with this shit. Are we going to wait and use them as our fucking shields cause we are to busy crying about how doomed we are? Like a bunch of pathetic assholes? Just so fucking sick of this shit. Like how the hell am I supposed to take people seriously as they cry about how bad things are and they won't show up to help the homeless people in their fucking city? They won't even YELL and cause a fuss at the meetings and shit where they do these things? I'd say more but TOS and all that shit. But you should at least be doing that. People can take their fucking doom and shove it up their fucking ass. It's not productive and it's just an excuse. Guess that's the end of this unexpected vent post.

Source

[thewertsearch]

GT: Man where IS he anyway??? GT: Is he taking one of his legendary infinite showers? TT: What can I say. TT: Dude fancies his ablutions.

We've already had an early-bird Roxy cameo, but Bro's certainly taking his sweet time.

I don't think this is actually the case, but I'd be pretty interesting if the original Kid Bro was already dead, and his AI duplicate was the 'real' Player all along. (He'd wield the Mind Aspect, obviously.)

GT: But seriously that brobot has been the bane of my existence ever since you sent it.

You as in the Responder, or you as in Kid Bro? The former is constantly posing as the latter, so it'd be pretty easy to mix them up. We really do need to get this guy his own account...

TT: I didn't send it. I sent the parts. TT: Or, correction, DS sent them.

...especially since even he's prone to blurring the lines between the two.

The question of whether he 'is' Bro is kind of debatable - but philosophy aside, viewing yourself as a shadow of someone else simply isn't good for your mental health.

GT: When hes pulling punches… GT: And taking it all easy and such… GT: And we start wrestling up a storm and whatnot… GT: Umm. TT: What. GT: Its just that the whole proceeding seems to become… GT: A bit tender for my liking.

Translation: The AR has a crush on Jake, and the only way he can express these feelings is through homoerotic combat. He can't even touch Jake, so he just sends a robot to kick his ass, and tries to live vicariously through the intricate rituals that ensue - but he'll never actually touch his skin.

...damn. This guy's getting very tragic, very fast.

TT: What does the guy have to do, Jake? TT: You want to wrestle. He's fucking game. Just a man, a machine, a secluded tropical island. Sounds like you died and went to fucking heaven, if you ask me. TT: Seriously, what does this simple, loyal brobot have to do to prove his worth to you?

Oh, you are down catastrophic, aren't you?

This... this is a disaster waiting to happen. None of this is going to go anything close to well.

TT: If the brobot's Novice setting makes you uneasy, I'm going to disable it remotely. TT: Done.

What, no!

Don't turn off the gay switch, dude! We can solve this!

Ok if he wants happy hunting you will GIVE him happy hunting. HAPPILY.

I absolutely love this expression - mostly because, despite their shared looks, you could never imagine John giving this energy.

This mood is completely unique to Jake English, and it's great.

[transformers-spike]

(Not a request)

I’ve been like honestly thinking, what would certain bots call their little human partners? Like I could imagine TFA megs being “my darling” but like at the same time I don’t. Just a random ramble I hope you could help me out here bc it’s been on my mind for a while🥲

I've been discussing this question with @drunkeninlovesailor this morning and we've brainstormed a bunch - so keep in mind we've also come up with a bit of extra worldbuilding (since we don't always vibe with official sources) Honestly, it depends on how well a bot is acquainted with/willing to use human terms. TFA Megatron for example would only use "my darling" if he knows it terribly flusters the human. He obviously looks down on humanity (and this includes everyone but his human - whom he still looks down upon to a degree but shhhhh). If his planet's terms don't have the same impact, then "darling" it is. But if he were to use a Cybertronian term, he would go for "my spark" (meaning "person I cannot live without"). TFP Megatron always goes for something that's a thin line between affectionate and demeaning. Things like "little one" where you're really questioning if he views you as someone he loves or a glorified pet. To be fair he's weird with everyone - any affection he has is mixed with murderous intent. TFP Optimus would call you something that shows his respect and appreciation for you. Not big on nicknames, but I'm sure you can get him to adopt something - be it Cybertronian or human lingo TFP Bulkhead and Breakdown are well-acquainted with human media (thanks to Miko and Knock Out) - but the nicknames they choose are either obscure references or sickeningly sweet to a point it gets ridiculous. Are they aware of this? Mostly Bulkhead - Breakdown would call you cotton candy with a straight face because it's sweet so it must be affectionate, right? TFP Ratchet would refer to you as his associate and later friend until he finally figures out his feelings and admits to himself he's been pining for so long it's starting to take a toll on him. Then he'll start calling his human "my spark" in private, because he's old as balls. But also "sweetspark" if he's feeling playful. Although he's willing to adopt some human terms as well and lovingly mock you by using the most grotesquely cute nicknames when you're alone. TFP Starscream? Absolute disaster. He tries so hard but he's too self-aware about how weird it sounds to call you anything affectionate. Usually everything he uses sounds demeaning even if he starts them with "my" - ie: my fleshbag. Unless you're in private and he's feeling particularly generous, at which point he's going to see if he can use some of the human lingo he learned while scouring the internet. He's testing them out to see which ones work - this can either make or break your boner. He's trying to seduce you not call you his "honey bear" TFP Smokescreen is a virgin who's never been with anyone before (you can pry this headcanon from my cold dead hands) so he's navigating the land of pet names with even less experience. Don't let him use the internet though because he'll probably end up calling you his bitch and see nothing wrong with that. Cybertronian terms tend to be easier. He says sweetspark and acts smooth to impress you, but all it takes is a sultry voice and his entire system needs to reboot. TFP Knock Out has a good grip of human lingo and is the best at mixing human and Cybertronian nicknames. He can easily switch between sweetspark and love - my spark and darling. Heck if he wants to be a smug bitch he'll call you kid/kiddo by saying Newspark.

[bl-inded]

My favourite thing about the Faifa Yotha fight in episode 13 is how (like everything else about their characters) their upbringing really shines through.

Faifa was the first person to make sure Gun was okay. He was also the first one Gun went to when he felt unsafe. He asked him to take them home because he knew Faifa would respect him. Yotha likes Gun (probably more than he even realises) but his actions have made it more than clear to Gun that he is not Yotha's first concern (that isn't necessarily true, but Yotha has left Gun on multiple occasions despite him asking).

But Faifa always puts others first, almost to a fault. Which is why when Faifa asks, oh so gently, to explain why Gun feels hurt, he actually does.

The line that really stands out to me is when Yotha screams "Gun is... not an object." Because yes! That's exactly the point. And yet Yotha talks to Faifa first, not Gun. He assumes that it's Faifa who made the decision. Because when they were kids they didn't get a say in who stays with mom and who stays with dad. He was mad at Faifa for the same reason he was mad at their mom.

Both Yotha and Faifa are protectors. But Yotha thinks it's an offensive game. He needs to protect from someone- he needs to protect Fai from his mom, protect Gun from Faifa (or his nightmares), himself from love. There is an enemy and he is the sword.

Faifa is a sheild. To him it always has been defensive. He needs to protect Gun and Yotha to keep them safe, to stop them from hurting. He isn't fighting the problem, he is holding their hand and walking through it with them. He takes the time to understand their needs. And the only confrontations are ones someone else starts. (God I love him so much).

So when Fai says this ("you've never taken care of him"), I'm inclined to agree. It's not entirely true, obviously. But it's about what Gun wants, and Gun doesn't need a sword.

Yotha realises he's made a mistake but he doesn't know how to fix it. I really hope he figures it out but it's not just "kiss and make up".

Ugh, I love them😭.

[snakesafraidtodie]

Danny stops mid rant once he realizes that Bruce Wayne is looking at him like he's crazy. "Ehh... never mind. It's just been a rough week. Ignore everything that I said. Obviously I'm alive. I'm just... uh, saying what my parents expect I'd say. Because they think I'm dead."

"You're used to indulging their delusions." Bruce stated, more than asked.

Danny sighed. "Look. I'm really sorry about them. But did you have to publish the name of the dead boy you thought was your son? Even if it's not me, that's gotta be some sort of privacy violation. Did you get permission from the family of the dead Danny?"

"...I'm sorry, I don't know how the body's identity got released to the press." Bruce had a genuine look of guilt on his face. "But you're right. That information should never have hit the news."

"Well, I guess it's not your fault then." Danny shrugged. "Um. This is a long shot, but do you know how to get in contact with Batman?"

"..."

"It's just, now that they're convinced you have my body- my parents... are kinda single-minded? And I wouldn't put B&E to steal what they think is the remains of their son past them. So. I wanna talk to Batman. To discuss how best to handle their brand of... them-ness. They're a lot, but they're good people! And they're grieving me, as misplaced as it is."

--------

The Fentons want a dead body that doesn't exist.

The Waynes want to keep their cover and not blow their identities. (No, Tim. You are not allowed to clone Daniel to make a fake corpse for his parents.)

Danny wants his parents to accept that he's both dead and alive and stop harassing a rich fruitloop for the corpse of a rando kid he mistook for his son. And he'd like to get that without having to out his identity to more people, but at this point it seems unlikely.

So.

When Bruce Wayne agreed to set up a meeting for him with Batman, Danny decided to tell the truth. Because who could he trust with it if not a fellow hero?

------

Ok. Batman was way more intimidating in person. The mass of shadows stared him down. Danny didn't know how to break the silence.

Luckily the Dark Knight took mercy. "Wayne told me you wanted to discuss your parents' potential future actions."

"R-right. Um. Yeah. Ok." Danny took a deep breath to quit his rambling and get to the point. "So. Some background info. Mom and Dad are ecto-biologists and ghost hunters. They spent their career inventing tech that runs on ectoplasm and publishing papers on the evils of post-human-consciousness. Their magnum opus was a portal to a theoretical dimension of ecto and ghosts. They built it in our basement. And."

Danny let the rings of transformation form. He began to float and at Batman's tensing, crossed his arms and legs to appear smaller. He looked away. "It killed me. Kinda. I am dead, but not. I'm a ghost, but I'm alive. I didn't tell them when it happened. They're ghost hunters, y'know? I grew up hearing the evils of my kind. But then the other Danny Fenton was announced dead, and they figured I was a ghost anyway."

Danny set his feet on the ground and turned human. "So I told them the truth, that I'm both, that I've been protecting Amity from the ghosts coming through the portal as the hero Phantom. But. Well, I don't know how much Mr. Wayne told you, but they're convinced I'm fully dead. They want me to move on. That's why they want the body."

Danny clutched at his hair in frustration. "And. I can't convince them otherwise! I don't- this reveal is already going so much better than I could've hoped. They're already rethinking their 'all ghosts are evil' stance. But. I can't keep living with them. They think I'm DEAD, Batman! That I'm haunting them or something. I can't do that to them! I can't make them believe me-!"

Large hands wrapped around Danny's own to gently uncurl the fingers fisted in his hair. "What do you need, Danny?"

Danny sniffed. His hands still held in Batman's own, Danny ducked his head, turning to self consciously wipe his face on his sleeve. "I don't know." He said in a tiny voice. "I want them to get better."

"..."

"Everyone always said they were mad scientists, growing up. I- I don't want them to- to end up at Arkham. But I can't convince them anymore. They need, like, a professional. But it will only work if the professional knows what's actually going on, and that means revealing my secret identity to more people, end even if there is someone trustworthy, I'll still need someplace to stay while we're doing this fucked up supernatural family therapy. So maybe I just gotta... fake my death. Let them move on. Wayne can tell them the other Danny got cremated already or something. And I'll... go... somewhere."

Danny pulled his hands out of Batman's grasp and stood up straight. "Yeah. Ok. Batman, will you help put Danny Fenton to rest once and for all?"

It's a Terrible Cover Story, Really :/

DP x DC AU where, when trying to make a cover story for why Jason is suddenly legally alive again, Bruce (and the rest of the fam) come up with a story that they had found the body of a child that looked just like 15 year old Jason after he had gone missing and went straight into greif stricken panic and assumed to worst! Jason had come back to them later (let's say he's 22/23 here) after recovering from amnesia, and DNA tests confirmed it's him. They claim they exhumed the body and had the DNA tested and it came back (and they make this name up, completely believing that, since enough people have similar names, this won't come back to bite them) as Danny Fenton.

It's plastered all over the news and it makes it's way back to Jack and Maddie fast: who are now completely convinced their son died on a breif trip they took to Gotham 7 years ago and came back as a ghost who just didn't know he was dead. When they try to bring up the topic with Danny, as gently as they could, they wind up learning that he's Phantom and start to think it's a split personality type deal. One is their son trying to greave his own death and failing because he thinks he's still alive, and the other is their son trying to live up to them as ghost hunters and trying to be the hero his kid self must have thought they were. They're torn up and grief stricken and try contacting Bruce about retrieving their sons body.

Bruce is freaking out because he thinks he just convinced people who may have been looking for their son for years that their kid is dead (and maybe he is! Oh god!) And Amity Park nonsense is keeping him from finding anything about the (half) living Danny, now attending community college.

Jack and Maddie are freaking out because they don't want to let go of their son, but also this can't be healthy for any of them or for Danny's soul, he needs to move on and they need time to rethink everything they've ever thought about ghosts to grieve.

And Danny's freaking out because he thinks Brucie Wayne, ditz extraordinaire (unless his kids are involved), clueless to a fault, Brucie, somehow figured out he was a ghost and outed him to his parents???? Not cool man!

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Actually I think there is a very funny world out there where people were just assuming for years that Vander and Silco were a thing (how could they not, they're not Subtle about it) except Vander and Silco, touch-affectionate as they were, brother in arms as they were, determined to do a revolution together as they were, etc. were... not. Yes they'd fall in the same bed often - after talking about their dreams and their plans -; yes they'd always be in each other's spaces, but then again if you saw Vander with Felicia or Cole you know he was Just Like that with his Family, and he'd just gained Silco's trust and was proud of that.

They have an horrible betrayal and a harsh divorce and they haven't even ever kissed; yes perhaps deep down they might have been vaguely aware the other meant the world to them and they wanted to spent their life together but it didn't quite register back to wow we should jump each other's bones, tenderly kiss, and get married.

but then the kids learn their story and Benzo still assumes they were together so Ekko assumes they were together so everybody else is just like D:. We need to bring them back together. Powder cause she's a romantic. Vi cause she believes it might bring the dream of Zaun back into Vander's eyes. Claggor because he wants Vander happy. Mylo because he is apprehensive and eager to meet the mysterious, shadowy Silco.

It works, i'm sure, but i do want Silco and Vander, YEARS after having had rolled their eyes at countless people assuming their relationship, glancing at each other and having to slowly explain to kids that. no. they. were not. like that. ("but you wanted to" Powder says, eventually. "right? right?") and Silco and Vander exchange a new glance, more charged, and, well.

[tacitusk1llwhore]

What's up, y'all? This post has been wildly anticipated, and I have literally spent days on it. So let's get right into it, yeah? The Van Der Linde Gang is not a family; it is not a group of down-and-outs living outside the law for freedom (not entirely). It is, in fact, a cult, or, at the very least, most of the time operates like a cult would. To understand this we have to know exactly what a cult is, so what is the definition of a cult? A cult (as according to Google) is a misplaced or excessive admiration for a particular person or thing. This is one of the many definitions. So there you are; it's a cult, case closed! Just kidding, I wouldn't make it that easy, so let's look deeper into cult mentality and how it relates to the VDL gang.

Let's look first at what some characteristics of a cult leader are, and then let's match them to Dutch as a person. Cult leaders are incredibly charismatic; they come off as personable, as these wonderful, easygoing people who accept those as they are and bring in those who have been deemed by society as undesirable. But what makes them so very charismatic? How is it so easy for them to fall into this role? Having an image of yourself rooted in grandiosity, not reality. But Dutch isn't like that! You cry, to which I say—hold on, I'm getting there. Dutch is like that; Dutch has always been like that. In the traditional cult sense, he doesn't believe himself to be god, nor does he proclaim himself supreme or anything that we typically associate with cults. What does he do then? He corrects himself; he blame-shifts, and often. One of the first hints that I got that maybe this guy isn't as cool as I thought he was was all the way in Colter. When speaking to Charles, Dutch tells him to get indoors, on account of the cold and his injured hand. This seems so sweet, something from genuine concern and care for someone under his leadership. Until he slips up in his language and says, "I—We need you strong." He starts off simply stating that he himself needs Charles strong, greatly overestimating the true need for Charles amongst the other gang members. Charles provides for the gang in the form of food, money, and little repairs. If something were to happen to Charles day-to-day, it wouldn't affect Dutch all that much. Who would it affect? Those that cannot hunt for themselves, Abigail, who can't leave camp on account of her son, those that rely on the men of the gang to provide for them. If there was a food shortage in the gang, Dutch would be just fine; he can hunt for himself. You know who probably can't? Tilly or Mary-Beth. By first and foremost stating that Dutch himself needs Charles strong before he switches to include everyone, we see the first sign of his exaggerated sense of self-importance. His use for Charles is exploitation; he can exploit his position, his lack of connection outside of the gang, to make him money. Others use it for Charles's basic necessities. It is also well known that Dutch is allergic to accountability, as we see in the phrase "You'll keep doubting me and we'll keep failing." This is said to Arthur after yet another one of Dutch's poorly executed and subsequently failed plans, through no fault of Arthur. Dutch needs a scapegoat; he cannot fathom that he himself makes poor choices, and so he narrows his perception, forcing a round peg through a square hole to frame himself as perfect. It was Abigail's fault that Hosea died; it's Arthur's doubt that makes their jobs not run smoothly; John isn't loyal anymore because of Abigail. Never once do we see Dutch take accountability, and we shouldn't expect him to, not when his sense of self is so insanely inflated.

Behaviors and body language also play into this; Dutch is very often seen standing, chest puffed, shoulders back, with a cigar in hand. He will stare off in silence, giving us this illusion that he's thinking, that he has all of these wonderful ideas running through his head so fast he simply has to take a pause to go through them all, to contemplate. Did you know that body language amongst cult leaders is typically comparable? This powerful, almost Superman-like pose is a common one amongst them; it exhibits power and confidence, combined with subtle, casual movements or actions, like smoking a cigar or rubbing the temples. This can and does give the illusion of not only intelligence but also power and empathy or deep contemplation. Dutch also dresses luxuriously; he wants to stand out against the gang as this intellectual genius. He wants to seem so much more well educated, with so much more money, so these people who are more intelligent than him but less confident or well off look at him and say, "Wow, I should follow him; he's doing well for himself; he's confident; he knows best." When in reality it's all a ruse, and body language, the set apart from the others, is another way he does this.

Now let's look at what I think is one of the most cult-like aspects of the VDL gang, and that is how they got their members. So many people say, "Oh well, how could anyone ever join a cult?" "Why not just leave?" "You'd have to be stupid to join a cult!" But the thing is, people do not purposely join cults. People are lured into cults in multiple ways: the promise of money, freedom, love, luxury, but most of all, family. You know who the prime targets for cults are? The marginalized, the poor, as well as the young, the naive, and the downtrodden. Take the analogy of the frog in water: if you slowly turn up the heat, the frog will boil alive—such can be applied to cults; no cult starts with these crazy behaviors, rules, or rituals; they condition you slowly, they put you into a position in which it is impossible to leave, and when you realize the truth, it's too late. Let's look at the stories of some of the members of the VDL gang, how they came to be. Arthur, taken off the streets after his abusive father was hanged, leaving him orphaned and destitute; John, saved from a mob trying to hang him for thieving, this, of course, after he was also orphaned and had run from an orphanage (orphanages in the 1800s were child workhouses); Tilly, who was rescued after running from her kidnappers, after killing one of them to escape. Javier, freshly in the US, running into Dutch while the pair were stealing chickens, Charles, a loner with no family who had been on his own for decades, accepted into the first group he's known that has treated him fairly. What do these stories all have in common? These people were all at their most vulnerable when they were picked up by Dutch; they all were destitute, poor, hungry, afraid, or searching for a place to belong. It's easy to indoctrinate those that have nothing waiting for them on the outside. Dutch preys on people who have nothing, because when you give people with nothing something—you buy their loyalty right with it.

These people are so very loyal to Dutch that they would die for him; they literally state it (or at least Arthur does). The framing of a family is also a common tactic; if you make these people see you as one big family, not little worker bees, you can convince them anything they do for you is doing something for their family—for the greater good, when in reality, it's for you—it's for your gain. These men are called "Dutch's Boys." This implies a fatherly role, almost infantilizing those under the leader and bolstering their importance within the dynamic. These men have killed, stolen, robbed, kidnapped, and done the worst of the worst for Dutch, under the guise of a better life for them and these people they care about, when in reality it's for Dutch and his ideas that never included them in the end. The rules themselves also point to a cultish dynamic; if you rat, or talk, or are considered a traitor in any way, you are killed. Molly was not the first to be killed for this; I doubt she was even the second. It was so bad at the end that people were sneaking away in the night; they knew truly they were never just free to leave, the thought, or fact, rather, that they would be potentially murdered in front of their fellow camp members outweighing any want or wish for goodbyes. Let this be a reminder that most of these people were so indoctrinated they watched a woman they had lived with and cared for be murdered in cold blood, then be burned rather than buried (a sign of disrespect then), and didn't say anything; they didn't try to stop it; they didn't even defend Molly. Uncle actually brought her back, knowing that she was drunk and hysterical, probably knowing what the outcome would be. We see Arthur, who was realizing the error of his ways and the error of the gang, try and stop things, and later Karen go off on Grimshaw in her drunken state, but besides looking a little shocked and then going right back to work, no one did anything or said anything. Reminder: that's not normal. Killing someone for a betrayal (that turned out to be untrue without further evidence in front of a group of people and presumably a child) with such ease and to state, "It's the rules." As an explanation, it is not a family unit; it is a cult.

I will say that just because this is a cult doesn't mean that Arthur seeing the gang as a family or those members calling themselves family is any less true. That dynamic was real for them,that love was real based upon personal relationships and at some point probably real for Dutch, but realizing that he could get away with anything because he gave these people everything turned slowly into something far more sinister. It went from taking from the rich, taking in the downtrodden to help them to, I saved you; now go do my bidding. These people saw him, saw one another as family, as friends and brothers, and he saw them as chess pieces; he states as much. Again, frog in hot water.

Is the VDL a cult? In many ways, yes—common cult tactics are used by the leader, including love bombing to the women and those who he has raised. Calling Arthur son, knowing he has no father, only when he wants something is manipulation; his interactions and the implications of the change in relationship between him and Molly also imply this. The VDL was never a true family as Dutch would have them believe or have us believe. Arthur is an unreliable narrator in that regard; that love was real, absolutely, but the unit, the scenario, wasn't. The VDL ran like a cult; Dutch was not a good person, and he knew exactly what he was doing the entire time.

That's my hot take for the day.

( @moeitsu I know you said you wanted to read my take on this so I figured id tag!)

[luvst4rc0r3]

OMG I LOVE UR FANFICS!!

PLZ WRITE MORE SERIES!!

Can you write (if you want) a jinx x f!reader were reader’s first language is not English but another language. And she has a son whose first language is English and he always complains about taking classes. So jinx pulls them out of classes and that makes reader very mad. (basically Gloria from modern family)

It can be any language just ofc not English

TYY IF YOU DO IT

OMG I LOVE THIS REQUEST!!!

I did it in my native language. English is my first but Tagalog (Filipino)is kinda my second asides from Spanish. I can kinda of speak Tagalog just not fluently.

“Lost in translation”

Jinx x F!Reader

WC: 1427

NOTE: established relationship. I did have to use google translate for some words so it might not be grammatically correct.

THIS ALSO MIGHT BE MY LAST FANFIC FOR A COUPLE DAYS BC I HAVE MIDTERMS

“Jinx, what the hell were you thinking?”

You stood in the center of the small apartment, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. Jinx leaned against the counter, her casual stance a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you.

“I was thinking the kid hates it,” she shot back with a shrug, twirling a wrench in her hand. “Why make him sit through something that makes him miserable?”

Your heart clenched. “He needs to learn it. He needs to—” You hesitated, stumbling over your words as your thoughts tripped over each other, fighting to come out in English. “It’s important for him to know… to understand—”

Jinx rolled her eyes, her tone dismissive. “He’s a kid. He doesn’t need a million things crammed into his head. He’s fine just the way he is.”

“Fine?” you echoed, your voice trembling. “Jinx, it’s not just about school. It’s about him knowing who he is. Who I am. You think it’s easy for me, being stuck in the middle of two languages all the time?”

She frowned, her smirk faltering for the first time. “I didn’t say it was easy—”

“You didn’t even ask me!” you interrupted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “You just pulled him out without even thinking about what it means!”

Jinx tilted her head, her electric blue eyes narrowing. “He’s my kid too, y’know. I’m not trying to hurt anyone. I just didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Her words hit you like a slap, and suddenly, the English words you’d been clutching at fell away, leaving nothing but raw emotion. Your chest heaved, and before you knew it, tears blurred your vision.

Jinx’s face shifted, the confidence draining from her expression. “Hey, whoa, babe, don’t cry—”

But you couldn’t stop. The frustration and exhaustion, the endless translating in your head, the constant feeling of being misunderstood—it all came pouring out in a language she didn’t understand.

“Ang hirap na hirap na ako, Jinx. Hindi mo naiintindihan. Hindi mo alam kung gaano kasakit na hindi ko masabi nang maayos ang nararamdaman ko.” (I'm in such a difficult situation, Jinx. You don't understand. You don't know how much it hurts that I can't express my feelings properly.)

You covered your face with your hands, your body shaking with sobs. “I just want him to know me,” you managed to choke out, your voice breaking. “I want him to understand me without me having to fight for every word.”

Jinx froze, the wrench clattering to the floor. She stepped closer, unsure and unsteady, like she was walking on glass.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice low and raw with something you didn’t hear from her often—guilt.

You didn’t respond, your tears falling harder. Jinx reached out, her gloved hand hesitating before resting on your knee.

“I thought I was making things better for him. I didn’t think about how it would hurt you.”

You sniffled, shaking your head but still unable to look at her. “It does not just hurt, Jinx,” you whispered, the words coming out shakily. “It’s… I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting with my own head, trying to make everything make sense in English just so I can talk to you, or him, or anyone.”

Jinx’s hand tightened slightly, grounding you, as if to say she was listening.

“I just… I feel like I don’t belong anywhere,” you continued, your voice cracking. “Not here. Not at home. And now, our son… he doesn’t even want to learn the one thing that connects him to where I come from. To me. And you just let him quit. You made the decision like it didn’t matter.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Jinx’s usual chaotic energy had vanished; she looked like someone had ripped the ground out from under her.

“I didn’t know,” she said after a moment, her voice soft but steady. “Of course you didn’t. You never think of anyone except yourself” with that you slammed the door to your shared room with her.

—

You stood in the doorway, your bag slung over your shoulder. Your hands shook as you clutched the strap, the heaviness in your chest unbearable. Jinx stood across the room, her wild hair and mismatched clothes somehow looking smaller, like she didn’t know what to do with herself

“Wait,” she said, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “You’re leaving?”

You nodded, your throat tightening as tears threatened to spill again. “I just… I need space, Jinx. I need time to think.”

Her brows furrowed, her lips parting like she wanted to argue, but no words came. For once, Jinx didn’t fight. She just stood there, the chaos in her usually vibrant eyes dimmed by something deeper.

“I love you,” you said, your voice breaking, “but I can’t keep doing this if you don’t try to understand. It’s too much.”

The silence in the room was deafening, and when you finally stepped out and closed the door behind you, it felt like your heart was breaking in two.

The days passed slowly. You stayed at a friend’s place, letting the quiet moments give you the space to breathe. But no matter how hard you tried, thoughts of Jinx and your son kept creeping in. The weight of the fight lingered in your chest, heavy and unresolved.

You told yourself you just needed a little more time. That maybe Jinx would realize how important this was—not just to you, but to your family.

And then, three days after you left, you came home.

The apartment was quiet when you walked in, and for a moment, you wondered if she was even there. But then you heard it.

“Kamusta.”(Hello)

You froze, your bag slipping from your shoulder as you turned toward the sound. Jinx stood in the middle of the living room, her hands fidgeting nervously with the hem of her shirt.

“What?” you asked, your heart pounding.

She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and determination. “Kamusta,” she said again, the word clumsy but recognizable. “That means… uh, hello? Right?”

You blinked, stunned. “Y-yeah.”

Her lips twitched into a small, nervous smile. “I’ve been trying,” she said, stumbling over the words. “I… I looked up some stuff. It’s… hard, but I wanna learn. I wanna…”

She trailed off, her electric blue eyes meeting yours with a rare vulnerability. “Ayaw ko… um…” She fumbled for a moment, clearly struggling to remember the phrase. “Ayaw kong… mag-translate ka… araw-araw.” (I don’t…I don’t want you to have to translate everyday)

Your heart clenched at the effort in her voice, the way she fought through every syllable. “I don’t… I don’t want you to have to translate every day. I love you,” she added in English, her voice shaking slightly.

Tears welled in your eyes as you took a step closer. “Jinx…” you smile widely, “now you’re the one who looks like an idiot!”

She chuckles softly but soon returns to her straight face. “I’m serious, okay? I… I’m not good at this, but I’m gonna try. I’ll keep learning. And he’s gonna learn, too. I already talked to him. Told him he’s sticking with it. I don’t care how much he complains—I’ll sit with him if I have to. We’ll both learn.”

You couldn’t stop the tears now, your hand flying to your mouth as you let out a shaky breath.

“I didn’t get it before,” she continued, her voice soft but steady. “But I do now. I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing this alone. Or like we don’t see you—really see you. You shouldn’t have to fight for that.”

She hesitated, then stepped closer, her hands reaching for yours. “I’ll learn Tagalog for you. For us. Because I love you. And I don’t wanna lose you.”

A sob broke free from your chest as you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close. Her arms tightening around you, and for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally breathe again.

“Salamat,” you whispered through your tears. (Thank you)

Jinx chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Walang anuman. That’s how you say ‘you’re welcome,’ right?”

You laughed, your heart aching in the best way. “Yeah. That’s right.”

Her grin widened, a little of her usual spark returning. “Told ya. I’m a fast learner.”

And in that moment, as the weight in your chest began to lift, you believed her. Together, you’d figure it out.

for once, her chaos felt like home.

TYY whoever requested that!! That was such and interesting requests to write!!

I want food

[hymen-restoration-project]

NO!!!!! of fucking course they can't. Of fucking COURSE you ignorant SHITHEELS would posit the claim that such things are possible. Well. I. Say No. That's right. What the fuck are you gonna do about it? I'm saying no and DENYING YOU THE PLEASURE of fantasizing about such a RIDICULOUS concept. How the fuck does it feel to get a dose of reality huh??? A dose of reality, a reality check for your sick and twisted little minds who think this shit is FUNNY. You think this is a JOKE? Every day women get misogynized and talked down to every single fucking day and you're out here joking about them LOVING A MISOGYNIST???? As if that were POSSIBLE?? and a GOOD THING??? You have got to be fucking kidding me. I cannot believe this. I'm disgusted. You all need to get your mind out of the fucking gutter. Life isn't a romance movie, sweetheart. GET USED TO IT!!!!!

Tumblr simulator

[hai7ani]

mmmm no super great ideas for you but im craving for virgin!rindou and single mom reader… aaaaaauhagghg.

collection

慢一點，久一點，真一點。

Rindou initiates the talk first.

It happens on a game of WNRS in your living room, takeout boxes long forgotten on the coffee table. The TV is playing a movie you're sure neither of you are really watching, yet you still want to pretend that you are.

You've been giggling at him for the past hour. He's a pretty funny guy, you think. Doesn't have as big of an ego you thought guys like him would have.

He's a nerd who's always so observant and nice. He's nice to you, your son, the ladies living in your apartment complex who always needs help switching light bulbs because they're too old for that now. One time behind doors Yuzuha's said that she'd smash if he weren't such a loser all the time.

(You think he is, too.

But it's what that makes him so... fuckable.

You think it's bad that you keep having these thoughts, knowing that you're most probably leading him on.

You're not ready yet.

But your heart still thumps weirdly when he comes to visit with warm food and occasionally new toys that you can tell he's had a hard time picking for your boy 一 because he's somehow always one colour off, or one category away.

When he bought Hot Wheels, the kid's already moved on to playing Legos. And when he gifted an expensive Star Wars set that he saved up for, the little shit just has to be in his Mommy phase.)

He gets embarrassed easily and you can just tell he's a virgin with the way he treats porn magazines that Yuzuha has somehow gotten her hands on, stuffed behind cabinets so that Shou doesn't find them. Neither of you let her know that she's been exposed, but it's more fun this way.

He's just a guy. Genuine, very smart despite what he says. Not book smart, but he reads up on things a lot. A bit clumsy at times, but he's still responsive than most men.

He's easy to talk to. Easy to know.

Easy to一

"What's a compliment you wished you received more frequently? Oh, dang. I gotta think about this." He flips the card around, throwing his head back onto the couch.

And yet again一

"Do you wanna go first?"

What are guys like him?

"I wish more people told me I was pretty."

Your response came to you naturally. It poured like waterfall, thorny chain tightening around your heart, squeezing your flesh tight, and you busy yourself with a loose thread on your blanket.

Rindou only stares at you from the other end of the couch. Almost like a deadpan, but not really. His violets pierce through your soul, dissecting you up one by one. You don't make eye contact even when you can hear the silent screams for you to look at him.

"You're kidding."

"What? It's true."

"No. I mean, no one tells you that all the time?"

You crack a smile, glancing up to take just one quick look. He's still as handsome as ever, boyish features much more prominent under the yellow light illuminating the room.

Soft nose, pretty doe eyes. Cracked lips pink from the Malatang you love eating. Veiny hands 一 one thick, desirable finger twirling around the drawstring of his pants 一 that draws you in so close you can't help but go wild at the sight.

"What, you think I'm pretty?"

He doesn't cough like you'd expected him to. Doesn't get embarrassed or act any more like a classic, textbook virgin at your poke.

"Yeah. You're pretty." His voice gets softer with every syllable. Dodgy eyes looking away with each word.

You don't respond at that, but you can't lie that his compliment did make you feel something swirling on the inside. Something blooming in your tummy from the way his eyes look into your own.

It's true 一 you haven't been told for your looks as much as you've always wanted. You're hot, you're sexy, sure 一 but you haven't been pretty to them. You've always hoped that they could see past your body 一 to see you for who you are on the inside.

"You're一" He shifts in his seat, suddenly feeling a little too hot, heart beating a little too fast in his chest. "You're pretty, okay. You always spend too much time in the mirror but I think you're fine just like this."

You purse your lips, listening.

"You're... Shit, I'm一"

You understand him when he throws his pillow to the side to run fingers through his hair. He's not always good with words, hasn't always been. But he still tries, and you like that about him.

He always puts in effort.

"You're pretty, like music. There's no boundaries, no... box. You can be anything. It's cool."

You grin at that. "Really?"

A nod. "I can tell you that everyday from now on."

An awkward silence too heavy for any of you to handle covers the room like blanket too fast. The soft, anticipating smirk on his face drops when you shift in your seat, clicking your tongue. Fingers scratching at your brows, teeth biting into the corners of your lips.

"Rindou, I'm sorry if I have been leading you on, I一" You sigh. "I don't think I'm ready for一."

"No, wait一" He tries inching a hand towards you but you dodge. "I thought we一 Aren't we onto something here?"

Rindou feels pathetic. He feels as if he's reaching for something that seems close but is still so, so far away.

"No, I'm sorry. I'll pay you back for tonight's dinner. And I don't think you should come over so often anymore. I'll talk to Shou-chan, have him understand."

He lets out a breath too short, standing on his feet as if it'll help him figure you out better. "Why? Is it me?"

"I just don't think it's fair to you, okay? We should stop. I'm sorry."

"What isn't fair to me?"

You give him a look so sad that his heart hurts.

"You're gonna be dealing with a kid that's not yours. He's hyperactive and naughty before bed. He's picky with food and doesn't like taking showers. Worst of all you're gonna be dealing with me. I'm not easy. I'm difficult to manage, to handle, to一 You'll not like me anymore when you see it for yourself. Guys like you deserve better things."

Fuck.

Rindou scrunches his brows, face twisting into one of confusion, one that makes you seem crazy for saying what you said.

"Why do you say these things about yourself? Why do you say these things about him? He's just a kid, I'm not good with kids but I'm sure I can handle him out of all." He throws his hands up in the air a little. "And, seriously, guys like me? What am I like? Why do you assume that way about me? I'm not that kind of person. I don't like doing that."

You fight the tears threatening to fall. It hurts, to say the least.

"Like, why do you think I've been around for so long? I would've turned on my back long ago if you and Shou were so hard to love."

requests are open

[psychoticallykind]

Baby

"Baby" - Jegulus Microfics - @into-the-jeggyverse - 617 words

Warnings: Trans Regulus with threatened pregnancy, period in trans character.

--------------------------------------------------------------

James came home with a weird feeling in his chest, opening the front door a little quieter than usual. "Regulus?"

The kitchen and living room were empty, but Regulus's jacket was still hanging up where it had been this morning. James dropped his keys on the kitchen counter, taking a few seconds to grab a water bottle before he continued searching for his fiance. "Reg? Hey, love, are you home?"

The hall bathroom was empty, and the library, and the bedroom.

The ensuite bathroom, however - James felt his heart drop as he approached the door, knocking gently. "Reg? Hey, are you okay? I have this feeling - nevermind."

"I'm fine," Regulus called back, but his voice was thick with tears.

James bit his lip. "Can I open the door?"

There was a short pause, and then, "Okay."

James opened the door slowly. Regulus was sitting on the closed toilet seat, so James knelt in front of him. "Hey." He lifted a hand, tracing over tear tracks. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Regulus mumbled. He took a deep breath, and then mumbled something under his breath.

James nodded. "I didn't hear that, but take this." He opened the bottle before handing it over. "And maybe try again?"

Regulus took a small sip of the water. His eyes were somewhere on the floor as he whispered, "It was late."

"What was late?" James asked.

"My -" Regulus made a face, gesturing down. "Blood. Monthly. You know."

"Oh," James realized. "I'm sorry. Did it come today? Do you need painkillers? A bath? I can run you one."

"No, that's -" Regulus broke off, smiling a little. "That would be nice, but that's not why I'm a mess, Jamie. I thought I might be -" Regulus stopped again, grimacing. "I can't say it. I'll throw up."

James nodded, not understanding quite yet. He rubbed gentle circles on Regulus's thighs. "You don't have to. It's okay."

Regulus picked up the trash can and tilted it. "Look."

James obediently looked in the trash can, frowning in confusion as he spotted - "Are those pregnancy tests?"

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, nodding once. "Mhm."

"Oh." James nodded again, processing. "And..." He took another second. "And they're negative."

Regulus swallowed. "Are - nope." He tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling. "Are you disappointed?"

James blinked. "What?"

"Disappointed," Regulus repeated. "That I'm not - that I don't want - that."

"No," James said vehemently. He brought one hand to the back of Regulus's head, gently urging him to look back down. "Love, no. Absolutely not. I would absolutely never ask that of you."

Regulus nodded, tipping his head back down but still not quite meeting James's eyes. "You don't want a baby?"

"You're enough for me," James promised. "We talked about this, remember? I wouldn't be here if I wasn't okay with this. You don't want kids, and I don't need them. I just need you."

"What -" Regulus swallowed again. "What if I changed my mind?"

Hesitant grey eyes met James's own. "Not - not having one. I never want to have one. Biologically, I mean. But - but maybe raising one? With you? We could do that. If you wanted."

James felt his head tilt as he tried to work that out. "You want a child?"

"No." Regulus bit his lip. "Maybe." He took a quick breath. "Yes."

James nodded slowly, thinking it over. "Okay. If you want one, then I'm all for it, love. Absolutely."

Regulus grinned. "Really?"

"Really," James promised. He stood up. "I'm going to run you a bath, and grab you some painkillers, and we can talk more about this if you want. Yes?"

"Yes," Regulus agreed, still beaming.

James grinned back. "And drink some more of that water, please."