#but i suppose my experiences are not universal!

[jd-loves-fiction]

Hey there! I might have an oddly specific request, but like. I am craving a trope but I am too lazy to write anything myself. Feel free to not accept this :"D

Could you write maybe like a *micro* oneshot about Boothill finding his past lover (from before his planet got nuked), but here's the thing, the lover did an ftm transition, so Boothill may have not realised at first.

And secondly, there is a child. Boothill's, but he had no idea.

The circumstances under what they reconnect is up to you. Wether it's fluff or angst, also.

Thank you in advance, cool writer person!<3

🌑felt that first part😭 ALSO this idea is so good rAAAH I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT IIITT (idk if this sucks but i hope i did this wonderful idea justice my dear, i poured all my love into this ❤️)

ALSO ALSO listened to 'Would you fall in love with me again' on loop writing this cuz the vibes are immaculate :)

Warnings: Spoilers for Boothill's backstory, mention of reader pre-transition as 'her' once but by male descriptors everwhere else, I have no experience writing ftm reader's so forgive my ignorance and let me know if I did good if you can 🥺

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠

The saloon is lively, crowded, not Boothill’s usual scene but fate or whatever sorry god is in charge of his path brought him here. His mission is complete and he’s exhausted – so out drinking he goes, even though he can barely feel the drink’s effects anymore. He supposes it must be the principle of the thing, a sort of tradition that helps him not lose his mind along the way.

Boothill scans the room by instinct, seeing dancing couples fill the entire room up to the corners – some slowly, some so fast it’s as if the universe is about to implode. A flash of a memory stings at the back of his brain, but he ignores it.

“Uhm! Mister!” Chirps a high pitched voice from below, clearly directed at himself. Looking down he spots a chubby-faced little girl, at which he raises a brow. Why a girl her age would ever think to approach him of all people in the saloon, he cannot imagine.

“Can you help me up, please? I wanna ask for some water,” she asks, polite but determined.

“Oh, well of course little lady!” He responds, gently holding her up and placing her onto the stool, once the cloud of nostalgia is gone from before his eyes. She just looks so familiar… The particular shade of brown of her eyes–

“Thank you mister!” The girl says brightly, sitting all cute and proper as Boothill waves the barkeep over, “It’s no trouble. Whatcha doin’ here, anyway? Y’ain’t alone, right?”

“Oh no mister, I’m here with my papa!” She replies cheerfully, pointing to the center of the room where the most people gather. Between swaying bodies he finds who she points at – twirling a giggling old lady is who Boothill suspects is the girl’s ‘papa’.

The cyborg cowboy no longer has a heart, nor a chest really, but it feels as if it stops in that moment. You don't spot him yet, lost as you are in your own little world, twirling around as sweat builds at your hairline.

But to Boothill everyone else fades as the pieces click into place – a grassfield beneath a starry sky, the love of his life before him, his flesh and bone hands around her blushing face… your face… no matter how you’ve changed, it’s you, he’d recognize you anywhere.

He must be seeing ghosts, surely. The girl’s father must just look like you, that’s it, it has to be, you’re dead… you have to be.

But Boothill knows in his soul that it is. You’re right there, dancing without a care in the world, changed and yet the same.

“Mister?” The little girl to him again, grasping at one of his sleeves and he turns. Her eyes, that particular shade of brown… it’s his, from when he was still flesh and blood. His head hurts. He feels drunk and crazy, maybe he should stop drinking after missions.

“There you are! You should’ve told me you wanted to rest,” You lightheartedly tell the girl, panting as you wipe sweat from your brow. From this close he’s sure it’s you, but Boothill still feels a little crazy for his thoughts. “Made a friend–?!”

The moment your eyes meet his, Boothill is finally sure it’s you. And he can tell you remember him too. Both of you seem stuck in time, gazing at each other like you’ve seen a ghost, which maybe you have, all things considered. The both of you should be dead.

Your mouth opens to speak but no words come out and you’re aching for a glass of water of your own. He’s here, alive and…

“You’ve… changed.” Boothill says lamely – so many things he wants to say, things he should’ve said long ago, things he would’ve said if he knew you were alive all this time.

“S-So have you!” Your voice cracks as you gawk at him, “You’re all… metal?”

Boothill chuckles, nerves eased by the familiarity that settles over the two of you – seems you haven't changed where it counts. “Yeah… it’s a long story.”

“Well, all I have is time.” He can tell you’re still upset with him, perhaps you will be for a while– heck! He’s upset with himself! He should’ve gone back for you, checked, double checked, triple checked!

“Just tell me one thing first;” The cyborg asks, watching as the girl sprints off towards who he assumes is a friend of hers, “Is she…” he points at himself.

“... Yeah. Her name’s Julia.” You tell him, sitting where she was, shoulders still tense as you watch him closely. He’s still as handsome as always, more rugged perhaps, more tired and grim, but the sight of his face still makes your heart stutter with affection. 

Boothill sighs heavily at the information, like the air’s been punched from his lungs, slumping over the bar and covering his eyes. You, alone as your planet burned while he went off to punish the ones who did it, was a heartbreaking enough picture to paint, but with a child? His child?

If they hadn't taken his tear ducts, he’d be filling the saloon up to the ceiling with his tears.

“Hey now, you can cry about it later, ok?” You say awkwardly, knowing you might start crying too if he does. 

He does as you ask, finally raising his head to look at you properly. You’re as beautiful as he remembers, of course you are. You could never stop looking so unfairly stunning to him, never.

Squirming in place as his cybernetic lock onto you, you feel the need to fill the empty space between you – as much as you wish to act like nothing had changed, a lot had, “How did you… recognize me?”

He finds it to be an odd question, of course he’d recognize you, yours is the only face he seems when he closes his eyes, haunting the few dreams he does have like a siren’s song beckoning him to linger within the memories of a better life before he became what he is now, “Y’haven’t changed that much.”

You blink at him, suddenly self-conscious, “... haven't I?”

Oh no, you look upset. He should’ve just said what he was thinking instead of whatever that was, “I– I didn't mean it like– I mean, you look great! Fudge I–”

You’re laughing, open and bright and lovely. Laughing at him no doubt, but laughing, “W-what– why do you– Fudge?”

“Ah, well, that’s part of that long story I told ya’bout.” He replies bashfully, because yeah, it would be strange to hear that coming out of his mouth to you.

Catching your breath and wiping the tears from your eyes, you smile fondly at the cowboy, “Sounds to me like we have some catching up to do.”

The farm boy in him wishes still that nothing had changed, that he could wake up from his dream and lay in the field beneath the stars again, hold you against his warm chest like always and have no IPC blood caked under his metaphorical nails, only dirt and sand from a hard day’s work. But the galaxy ranger he is now likes it better this way – change is inevitable and all things considered, this is one of the more fortunate outcomes of your story. 

You’ve both changed, but not where really it counts.

“That we do, sweetheart.”

[dross-the-fish]

What are your most favorite and your most hated, adaptations of Erik, Adam, and Hyde.

Favorite adaptations of each For Adam, just due to the sheer lack of competition the Musical version of the creature. I kind of hate that he's a reanimated corpse of a specific guy. That's my least favorite way to start the creature's origin but the rest is pretty close-ish to the book (except for the end) and the performance from the cast album is really good. We get a lot of insight to his mindset through the songs that most adaptations don't get across. Least favorite: I almost want to say Robert DeNiro's version from the 1994 movie because the movie he's in so soooo bad but honestly he himself wasn't awful. He had some good moments. I'm going to have to give it to the Once Upon A Time creature. He's not even a proper "Adam" and they do nothing of interest with him or with Frankenstein as a concept. Hyde: Favorite Adaptation, kind of difficult because I like some that are not actually good, exactly. I liked what Alan Moore's League of Extraordinary Gentleman did with him overall but could have done with out the scene of him and the invisible man. The musical is a guilty pleasure but I don't really view it as a faithful adaptation and tend to separate it as its own thing. I also really like Le Testament du docteur Cordelier or "The Doctor's Horrible Experiment" if you want the English language title. is probably among the most faithful and it's a genuinely very good film. Least favorite: Once Upon a Time again. This series should never have touched gothic literature or universal films. How are you going to write a Hyde who's upset that Jekyll killed his love interest. What the fuck even is that. Erik: Favorite adaptations. There's the Lon Chaney classic. Despite how much it deviates from the book I also do really like the 1990 mini series with Charles Dance.

Least Favorite: Christ there's a long list of really really bad adaptions but I'm going to put the version of Erik that exists in Love Never Dies. Holy christ, not only did he learn NOTHING from his redemption arc but I think he may actually be WORSE than before. Also am I supposed to believe Erik, the phantom of the opera, the genius composer, wrote "Bathing Beauty?" are you shitting me?

[utilitycaster]

C3 is a look on colonialism fans died out when imgn proposed the mortals plan. Because suddenly it was all about godlings, uwu cute babies and which characters could raise who either in revenge (Kiki & the Matron) or love (BY and Stormlord). As soon as that option got put on the table I never heard anyone else talking about colonialism. How can you when your blorbo's plan is allowing the "colonist power" to physically occupy the land and become more entrenched in political society.

That is definitely also part of it. Essentially, the problem is when people assign a show's political leanings on this basis of whether they like the blorbos or the ships. It's particularly bad in C3, where the general vibe among its most vocal fans was "anything my blorbo does is okay actually because if you don't like them you are attacking me personally," and where the people yelling about the clear themes of anticolonialism were mostly the descendants of the colonizers talking over if not outright disparaging the colonized. And the even bigger problem and what that original post was about is, of course, whether they do anything political outside posting and fandom, or if they just pretend that they do; not to mention whether they do anything one might consider radical (I know a lot of people who make no claims to be anything but a middle of the road registered democrat liberal who are almost certainly more active in community gardening and buy nothing groups and mutual aid and protecting the vulnerable in their community than the people who incorrectly decided that over-identifying with Ashton Greymoore was a substitute for having empathy for real living human beings who don't agree with you on fandom bullshit).

It is however not unique to C3. Since that recent question about C2 vs C3 criticism I've been thinking of people who suddenly started having massive problems with how Marisha played Beau as a woman of color after it became clear Beau and Yasha were going to get together, despite that being something that would not have changed in the slightest had Beau and Jester gotten together. It's not just "if a character is racist that means the author is racist which means the work is racist which means the fans are racist"; it's also that whether a work is racist or not is entirely determined on whether they liked what was happening in it.

I don't want to entirely decouple what one reads and enjoys from your politics altogether - obviously, someone who hates works on the basis of them including complex women or nonwhite characters or queer characters is going to be a bigot - but there really is a problem of people conflating what is explored in a work with the author of the work with the readers of that work, or people conflating (for example) not liking a specific queer ship or female or nonwhite character with homophobia, misogyny, or racism while themselves not abiding by that same rule, or generally just doing more arguing on behalf of fictional characters in fandom than living out any of their values in the real world. Like, really, am I supposed to believe the people who were assholes to Jewish people flagging how the anti-god arguments sounded uncomfortably close to real world anti-semitic rhetoric (and those people also deciding to put the word 'degenerate' in our mouths for *checks notes* thinking Laudna and Imogen are adults who are in control of their choices and actions and are not owed universal adoration) and who have, according to multiple conversations and some WILD confessions people have had in my tags, spent this entire campaign disparaging the colonized experiences of multiple people of color, particularly those of native/First Nations or Asian descent, are like...doing things in the real world that require interacting with people who aren't like them?

[259kmvn]

experiment

albedo conducts a test on his partner | albedo x f!reader smut (oral)

knock, knock, knock.

"come in."

you stand outside albedo's door, pressing the cold handle as you push it open. "hi, bedo!" you greet, sticking your head into his work-room. it's messy inside; papers line the walls and pepper the floor while vials of various natural elements are scattered around different surfaces. it's smaller than his actual workshop- tighter with less space to navigate. but this will do for as long as he'd like to live with you.

"how much longer do you think you need?"

"i'm almost done. i just need to compare my observations, then i'll join you." his smooth voice compliments his movements as he opens a nearby drawer to pull out a piece of paper.

the way his teal eyes glisten and eyebrows furrow as he scans it makes your tummy frizzle; he's hot when he's focused. and that shirt he has on... phew. it shapes his already nicely shaped body in just the right places. you just wish you could-

"...dear?"

ah. when did his gaze shift to you? "hmm? oh- nothing! yeah.. sorry... what did you say?" there was no hiding the guilty, sheepish tone in your voice.

"i asked if you required anything from me, dear." by this time a small smile is on his lips. amused eyes connected directly to yours.

"right," you bite your smile, "nothing. just- you, i suppose."

albedo raises an eyebrow. neither of you speak, and the gentle awkwardness makes you start tapping your fingers on the door. "i'll.. i'll just wait for you in the living room. sorry for disturbing!" you start to pull your head from his room.

this awkward tension isn't new. in fact, it was way worse when you first started dating him. many of your advances met with silence, and you've come to learn that that's just him assessing his options. unsurprisingly, your first intimate time did not go so well. he was methodological- too methodological. it felt like making love with a robot. but as time went on, and both he and you figure out what clicks, well... let's just say he brings you to another universe.

"wait. dear," he calls out just as you're about to pull the door shut, "i've got an experiment that i've been wanting to perform. perhaps you could help me with it." hope glistens within your heart and you smile.

"sure!" you entered his work-room with a new enthusiasm. "how can i help?"

you go to stand next to him, looking at the papers in his hand and the numerous circular diagrams on them. "look here," he starts, "i'm currently curious about the cyclical nature of life. cycles pervade every aspect of our known universe- do you follow?" you nod and scan the diagrams.

"ah! i see what you mean!" you lean closer to him, "and you drew all the different cycles you could find so far?" the fabrics of your clothes graze upon each other.

"that's right. smart girl." if there was a frizzle in your stomach, it's turned to a flutter. "but there is one more cycle that i'd like to explore that only you can help me achieve." you hold your breath. "i think you already know what it is."

you try to hide the smile that's creeping up your lips, but your rising cheekbones would not lie for you. "really, bedo? here?" your voice is but a whisper.

he nods, then gestures towards an empty chair- the only one in this room. "have a seat, dear. ah, clothes off first." so you take your clothes off and sit on the chair. its flat surface is cold against your bare soft cheeks. albedo leans over you, hands placed on both armrests by your sides. "good. this experiment is about you, so don't worry about me, is that clear?"

you nod, but he tuts. in a lower voice, he says, "use your words, dear. it is crucial in an experiment that you communicate your every experience. when i ask 'is that clear', what do you say?"

"yes," you whisper.

"good girl." he leans down and kisses your cheek. loose strands of his hair tickle your skin as he continues up to your ear. "mmm.." he hums, sending vibrations across your skin. "stage one of cycle one: pre-engagement." a tongue swipes up your earlobe. you gasp.

he continues his ministrations of licks and kisses on your ear, not neglecting the other by massaging it with his hand. every breath you take hitches and shakes. it tickles. it feels good. you can feel a tingling sensation poking at your core already, and the thought of it makes you whimper.

"your words," he sneaks a reminder amidst his kissing, "use them."

"it feels good," you manage through your sharp breaths. he hums in approval, and the vibrations shoot straight down. "i.. i want mo-re," vowels are especially difficult, because your jaw wishes to betray you for a less subtle moan. he hums again, this time in obedience.

albedo pulls back. looks at your naked figure on his well-used work-room chair. the sight turns him on. not once had he thought of being intimate with you in his workspace; the contexts had always been separate to him. but perhaps that doesn't have to be the case. having everything he loves in the same room sounds like an obvious ideal now.

you shift under his pondering gaze, and he notices. ah.. it must be because he's clothed and you're not. "shall i take my clothes off too, dear?"

you look up at him. to be honest, you like the way this particular shirt looks on him. even more is the way you feel being naked when he's not; vulnerable, powerless, like you're being experimented on. as he starts to unbutton his shirt, you interrupt. "bedo... can i say no?" he pauses in confusion. "i like it like this, it's- um, it really feels like you're experimenting on me." his eyes shut for a few seconds. a sign that he's recollecting his thoughts.

"understood, dear. this variable won't change." you can't help but notice how his shirt is still partly unbuttoned as he leans down to kiss your neck. he trails down your chest, leaving a constellation of kisses that you recognise as princeps cretaceus. you shiver. he's leaving his mark on you.

the hands he has on your legs gently push them apart- thumbs caressing your inner thighs. he crouches down completely and lifts your left leg, resting it on his shoulder. the added distance opens you up more, and albedo observes your glistening slit. his eyes are hooded, breaths getting heavier. you squirm at the sight of your aroused lover. "commencing stage two of cycle one: engagement."

albedo's licks are controlled and strategic. that is not to say that he's slow- rather, he's deliberate in choosing which speeds to eat you out with and where. his tongue is slow in sliding up and down your opening. fast when tasting your clit.

his eyebrows furrow as he's tongue-deep inside you, teal eyes alert to your every response. every buck of your hip makes him moan into your pulsing heat.

your whimpers run loose. there's so much you're feeling; the cold hard chair pressing against your back- the hand that's gently rubbing your left leg. his head between your legs, wisps of hair tickling your sensitive skin. his nose prodding at your clit as his tongue thrusts into your slit. "bedo- ah," you feel your core tighten. he does too. "i'm- i'm gonna cum-"

he hums in approval. "go ahead," his voice is muffled by your flesh, "cum for me." he presses his free hand on your lower tummy firmly. adding pressure to the already built up tension in your core.

"bedo, please, ah! mm-" your voice only gets higher and his tongue faster. at this point you're grinding on his face, chasing your high, and he keeps going. "please, please, please, hah-!"

you cum.

albedo lets you ride out your high on his tongue before putting your leg down and standing up. he wipes his mouth with his sleeve, juices and saliva smearing the shirt you love so much. every breath a heave for both you and him. your consciousness slowly restores and you realise you're in an unflattering slouch. you sit up, though your body still shivers and your sweaty skin sticks to the surfaces of the chair. you look up at albedo, who is silently catching his breath.

"i.. thank you," you don't know what to say. "is this.. enough for your experiment?" something tells you it's not. and that something is an obvious bulge in your lover's pants. you smile cheekily. somewhat proud of the effects you have on him. "..maybe not," you say in your cheekiness and stand up.

you meet his eyes and approach him, hands reaching down to play with his pants buckle. "you seem to be accurate, dear," he says as his hand cups your cheek, "i am unsatisfied with the experiment thus far." there's a restrained jerk in his hips when you teasingly glide over his bulge, "ah- i'd like to begin a new set of- mmph!"

you interrupt his line of thought with a kiss. his lips are soft and his eyes wide in shock. you pull back, and say amidst your shared air, "it's my turn to study you, dear. leave the thinking to me, hmm?"

his breaths stagger, and he nods hesitantly. "use your words, dear," you tease, tugging at his pants. he gulps.

"understood."

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 31

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 800

Masterlist

———————————————————————

  This Monday morning, I smiled, reminiscing about the weekend. On Sunday, we had explored the turquoise blue coves around Marseille. It was with regret that we returned to the gray skies on Sunday evening. She had to go back home to her children, while I returned to my place, greeted only by an empty fridge.  

I grabbed my computer and sent her a message.

 How’s the easy girl doing? 

 "Did you eat a clown this morning or what?" 

It was Alexia, who had just arrived at the office. She observed me, surprised.

 "Ona! What did you do this weekend? Your face is all sunburned!" 

Indeed, Lucy had been right. September's sun could be ruthless, and it had clearly left its mark on me. I was busted.

 "Uh, I was in Marseille!" 

She sat down in front of me, staring.

 "You didn’t tell me! With who?" 

Caught.

 "With Marie! It was a last-minute plan, Saturday morning." 

 "Marie, that girl? Why don’t you ever tell me anything? We’re supposed to share everything! Does she work for the FBI or something?" 

I smiled at her.

 "Sorry, Alexia, I’m telling you now. It just happened, that’s all!" 

 "Tell me, are you having romantic little weekends now?"  she teased, winking as she walked out of my office.

 "Very funny, Alexia. We’re just enjoying life, that’s all!" 

My gaze shifted back to my computer, where a new message had just arrived.

 Fine. And you, Miss Tease? 

We fell into the habit of seeing each other regularly, Lucy and I, almost every two days in the weeks that followed, sometimes at her place but mostly at mine. She also took me on a weekend trip to her parents’ chalet in the Alps, filled with walks, restaurant outings, and passionate nights. I let myself go, not thinking about what this relationship was or where it was heading. Nowhere, I assumed. Sometimes I wondered what Lucy felt, but we never had that conversation. Out of modesty? Fear of hearing the truth?  

Through small hints, a few words, we showed our affection. But what level of affection was it? It was especially hard for me to go more than two days without feeling a longing for Lucy. I had a visceral need to touch her, to see her, to feel her presence.

  That Thursday evening, we were at my place.   I had work to finish on my computer, while she was poring over a huge city map, punching numbers into a calculator.

 "What are you working on?"  I asked her.

She turned toward me, her glasses perched on her nose.

 "I’m calculating the number of people responsible for security during Saturday’s Pride parade along the route. A real joy!" 

I frowned, and she added:

 "there’s a real risk of disruptions from extremist groups like Civitas. They’ve made threats. So, I’m double-checking everything the prefect and police have planned. I don’t want any incidents!" 

I smiled at her.

 "Are you going?" 

 "Yes, I go every year as Mayor. This will be my tenth! Impressive, huh?" 

 "More than me, clearly. Incredible!" 

I remembered seeing her several times at Pride, inaugurating the start of the parade. I teased her:

 "This year, you could ride on a float given the circumstances. I’ll come with you if you want!" 

 "Why not!"  she replied with a smile.  "Even though I’m not gay!" 

I began stroking her arm, still teasing her.

 "Hmmm, not even a little?" 

I moved closer, whispering in her ear. She turned to face me.

 "I’m a straight woman having a special experience with a gorgeous girl." 

 "Don’t take it that way, Ona. I didn’t mean  experience  like that." 

I pulled back, taken aback by her words. The term  special experience  didn’t sit well with me. She noticed my change in mood and tried to backtrack.

I pouted, turning my gaze away.

 "Words have meaning. It’s fine, I get the message." 

She moved closer and grabbed my hand.

 "Ona! Don’t make that face... Consider me however you want." 

She placed my hand against her lips. I pulled it back, straightening up.

 "What matters most, Lucy, is how you see yourself." 

She raised her eyebrows, clearly tired of the direction this conversation was taking.

 "Ona, seriously! Maybe you want me to come out this weekend at Pride? And then you can move in with me next week with the twins? And we’ll live happily ever after with lots of kids?" 

She spoke sharply. I was stunned, unable to find a reply. Realizing her harshness, she softened her tone.

 "I don’t like where this conversation is going, Ona. I didn’t mean to put it that way..." 

But the words had been said, unmistakably. She took my hand again.

 "I have to go; it’s already 9 PM."  She kissed me before leaving my apartment.

I was shaken. Even though I had suspected this wouldn’t go anywhere, the conversation forced me to confront the truth I didn’t want to acknowledge. I realized, deep down, that I had hoped for something more—a real relationship with Lucy, though I hadn’t admitted it to myself. Now, I knew it would never happen.

[marzipanilla]

tabs w tabs under tabs.

Platonic connections do get shafted very badly by the narrative, huh? Arguably the Grayson family dynamic does get a decent spotlight, but Debbie is pretty significantly changed from her role in the comic, so her relationship with Mark is new to the adaption as well as her overall dynamic with Noaln.

Y'know, I didn't even think about the 'no choice/expectation' angle of the relationship? Like, Mark spends his whole life thinking he's gunna be a Hero Like Dad, and in his personal life suddenly he's got Girl Who Likes You For Sure So You Better Date Her. Like. Where is your choice in the matter. Half tempted to do a 'he and Amber work shit out or at the very least he shelves Eve's interest in him and just does literally anything else' fic bc of what he knows. Like yeah bud, it's okay to do something that isn't predetermined.

Screw going on a date, just hit up taco tuesday with Kate and talk about being a civilian vs being a hero.

A hero's sense of bodily autonomy must be seriously borked in Invincible universe, since most of them ARE lab experiments. And Rex definitely seems like the kind of person who wouldn't let things go that easily. Why wouldn't he be mercilessly weird about? Why wouldn't his fucked up feelings about it spill out over onto Amanda? Like, hey, if you date him, at least you'll know when he gets older he'll look like this. if you suck my dick it's the same dick so it doesn't count as cheating : ) Like. That would could AND SHOULD lbr get real fucking weird with how he acts around him. Or am I supposed to go with him having one outburst before just going 'I'm okay actually (internally screaming)'. But yeah, why AREN'T every member of GoG now worried about what he'd do to them without their consent/knowing? Did the GDA figure out it was Robot who let the Mauler Twins out in the first place? I mean he knew where they were and arrested them once he got what he wanted, and there ain't no way they aren't talking about who they worked for? Ain't no way ppl don't realize it was them who helped Rudy out, right ?? Right? ??

Imagine Debbie having to sit Mark down like 'I know you're a hero but I can't have you freeloading on me when I'm 70. Please get a job that actually pays you'. What's the living at home still culture of heroes? For the non-indestructible ones, how do they cover all those damn medical bills? Does Art run a special payment plan on suits?? how much do those indestructible suits cost?? why isn't he outfitting the fire department ?? does he ?? I do love the throwaway line that implies he also outfits anti-heroes/villains tho. Like. I'm neutral. I just make clothes. bruh. Darkwing fought some of your clients ?? bc he was willing to go after other heroes or bc they were doing crime ?? Art explain.

Mark seeking a mentor/refusing mentorship after his dad would have been neat. I saw someone say he and Immortal had a parental thing and I just squinted at my screen like ??? where ??? where do you see that ??

Also, I will laugh and laugh and laugh forever about the show giving me just enough rope to hang the entire Levy incident on Immortal lol Like, bro really went to stalk a recently injured TEENAGER to yell at him rather than do his job scouting the ruins of a fight HIS TEAM should have been at to begin with, and BOTH survivors of the blast got away to wreak more havoc. You suck bro.

It's like, I get it to some degree, the greater global stuff isn't what the narrative is focusing on - this is adapted from a 20 year old comic- but like you're changing mediums! You're tweaking the story ! Give us a throwaway line about how this world operates! One pissy comment from someone about Cecil/the GDA being the real shadow government, borders melted long ago ! Yet, the one line we kind of get about stuff, is Bulletproof calling out Cecil for only being interested in saving white Americans! And it's like. if that comment wasn't total snark, does that mean Cecil IS hoarding very important global resources to protect a small population? How many other organizations are trying to do the same? Does he just have the monopoly on power right now because he got control of GoG? Also still baffled that Immortal cared so much to yell at Shapesmith about AMERICANS getting left behind on Mars and not just, y'know, HUMANS. Why was that an important factor in the anger Immortal. Why.

Are there incentives to try and get superheroes to have kids in your country?? Recruiters?? We'll pay your bills if you keep us alive and ONLY us? Live here for free, but you work for us kind of shit. Has to be.

Debbie being so chill with Mark going into space bc as a toddler the damn GoG where taking him around the planet doing insane shit with him in the back seat lol There had to have been some Incident with Cecil. Girl you just yelled at a man taking medical care of your comatose husband. 'You have some nerve' she yells at Cecil the moment he shows his face. SOME NERVE? About what? What happened between you two????

Like I'd love to poke more at her sense of physical danger in the hero world. I lover her ambivalence about the destruction of the white house, and Nolan going into alien portals being Tuesday, like- does she have a weird bubble in her brain that bad things happen To Other People? Arguably she had a bit of one for Nolan that burst when he was in the coma, but how much does that extend to what she thinks could physically happen to her? I do love how willing she is to full on confront Nolan about stuff and part of my brain just wants to be like 'that's a sign of a healthy relationship, being able to bring up your concerns w your partner' and the other half of my brain is just like 'Debbie isn't the least bit hesitant about confronting a massive brick shit house of a guy ?? does she just have no sense of personal danger ?? what was her upbringing ???' or am I suppose to conclude that in a superhero world where crazy shit happens all the time People Are Just Like That, bc yeah, you could die in an alien swarm invasion so why hold back talking to the people who could physically hurt you ! There's men running around with canons welded to their arms ! you got nothing to lose !

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.

[batemanofficial]

ok i have a question for all the sickos and/or hospital workers current and former:

i used to volunteer at a hospital, so i've been to the morgue several times and seen several cadavers - i was largely unfazed by the whole deal, but i also know folks who'd do anything not to have to set foot anywhere near a morgue. but i'm curious to know what the consensus is! :3c

[artkaninchenbau]

For the record, I did figure that out a long time ago, it just gets funnier the more time passes

[froggtogs]

short people problems but they’re both short and one of them is pretending to be tall

[toffeebrews]

I'm so sorry but Killer's dust/soul collecting habit reminds me of Pinkamenia and the common interpretation she would collect and make things out of cutiemarks/collect horns and wings 😭

(art by @/rahafwabas and I believe the person who made the other drawing has deactivated :'D)

my brain has made the connection and it won't shut up about it.

[psi-spectacular]

VESSEL AU

ok, basically, the au's premise is that god as we know him existed before the rift. long before that, he kicked most other regional pantheons and placed Himself and His angels there. But when the rift opened, they all got ripped out of the sky and killed, then Mitternacht ascended. One last angel remains, deep in the depths of the drain, who's body holds up the entire structure. It feels that Mitternachts pantheon is hedonic and disgusting, and wants to reinstate its creator in His "rightful place". Around that time, a much younger patty was cave diving and managed to find its way up the angels body (the angel is HUGE, like its cells can be seen huge.) and accidentally finds her way to its heart. Shes in a really dark place at the moment, so the angel says it can help purify her soul if she repents. She doesn't know what it means but agrees. There's a flash of searing pain and light, and then she's back on the streets, a gash in her chest, no memories, and begging for help. The only thing she remembers is her name and no one recognizes her since she doesn't really have any family. The angel's creator has a new vessel to grow in, replacing pattys heart with the start of His light. it kinda functions as a normal heart if a bit funky for a while, but when its not able to grow large enough by the rift it gets pissed as hell, and it tries to grow faster and takes over more of her mind.

TL;DR Patty gets infected by christianity and needs a nonbinary butch lesbian cowboys true love to save her /j

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Can I see erik in bootyshorts PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

I lied theyre just a hair lil longer than booty shorts but im still gonna bite his thigh like sir you cant be wearing shorts and a comfy sweater at a time like this

(The New Mutants #39: “Pawns of the White Queen”)

[milkbreadtoast]

looking back at the yjh webtoon screencaps i have saved and giggling... hes so cute... moe... my pookie ^___^ 🥰🥰 poor little meow meow woof woo- *eliminated where i stand*

also these poses are sooooo... 꺄아악🖤🫣🫣🫣🫣

[badolmen]

People love ragging on Catholics on this site (fast free and easy like river water socks) but I think it’s extra funny y’all seem to think Catholics are some sort of sex prudes. Like, if a Catholic man does not give his wife an orgasm he is failing his sworn duties as a husband. I did not endure polite insinuations that my parents fucked often and well to have as many kids as they have for you to act like any self respecting Catholic is a celibate virgin. Laypeople have sex in this denomination Kaitleign. What are we, Calvinists? Jansenism is soooo 17th century Protestant Reformation-informed heresy.

[screwpinecaprice]

In the city!

Commission for  missyuniverse_ for her fanfic at Wattpad! ( account: Kittens_escapism or juanitasuniverse ) 😊😊😊

[rosie-tyler]

AY AY AY I'M YOUR LITTLE BUTTERFLY