#due to all sorts of factors

[girlbob-boypants]

"it's weird growing up being told you're just naturally smart and then being told it's a moral failing that you're getting bad grades when you stop being able to memorize stuff cause the complexity went up"

[beneviento-dolls]

Oh Donna is so algamatum coded

She has close familial and platonic relationships with her dolls, and I think she at the very least has a crush on Angie

[escapismkidnappedme]

Things I've noticed with a fluctuating weight

1) girl's girls will comment on how much happier or 'brighter' you seem when you're closer to your target weight.

2) girls dealing with their own insecurities by projecting their reasonings rather than communicating will come up with the wildest (and most entertaining) reasons for why I always look different.

3) when I'm at my highest weight of the year, men look at me, but don't approach me

4) when I'm at my lowest weight of the year, men approach me (and would rather respect a fictional boyfriend than accept that I'm a lesbian.)

[lemedstudent2021]

YOU’RE ONLINE

thank god

with only one parent in Greek mythology, do I act like it’s two parents with the same traits or transfer the exact traits of the parent down to the offspring?

the doctor is in!! /j

well last i remember from hs bio one parent produces a genetically identical offspring. there is little to no way for any sort of uniqueness for said offspring when produced from one parent, but since this is mythology and gods, the rules dont apply lol. (see hera and heph in that one myth?)

ofc u could always use the genes the parent has from their own (presumably) 2 parents, so each kid would be there own self instead of carbon copies of the parent without the need for introducing external material

ig its up to you really! punnet squares be damned XD

[gloomwitchwrites]

i saw a tiktok of a heavily pregnant woman saying “maybe i dont give him butterflies anymore but i do give him high blood pressure” then they walk by their S/O with a latter and power tools. and i have been thinking about how the guys would react ever since

Oh, anon. This is so cute! I love this. I know the trend you're talking about, but I feel like I haven't seen it with pregnant women specifically, but I find it even more hilarious if it is. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you for sending it in!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, dad!141, pregnancy, married life, parenthood, domestic fluff

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Get off the ladder, cabbage.” John exhales, trying his best to keep his voice calm.

You’re standing just high enough on the ladder to rest your pregnant belly on the top rung. John stands directly behind you, both hands firmly planted on either side of you against the rail. It’s not to support the ladder but to catch you if you fall. A potentially likely possibility since you’re carrying extra weight in front of you. You could easily tip back enough to lose your balance.

“I’m fine, John,” you reply, continuing on as if he’s not worrying.

It’s maddening how relaxed you are, like the potential factor of danger is a completely foreign concept.

“Please,” he emphasizes. “Get off the ladder.”

“Why?” you ask. “I’m more than capable.”

“You are,” he agrees. “But you’re also pregnant.”

“So?”

“Cabbage,” warns John.

“Fine,” you exhale.

John keeps his hands on your hips the entire time. When you’re back on solid ground, some of that tension melts away, but his heart still thumps quickly.

You lightly cup his cheek, batting your eyelashes at him. “Were you worried about me, John?”

John places his hand on your belly. “Worried about all three of you.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle sits at the kitchen table, sorting through the mail. With a heavy sigh, he opens the energy bill, removing the paperwork, reading over the breakdown of energy usage for the month.

From his peripheral, Kyle notices movement. Glancing away from the itemized bill, Kyle’s gaze softens when you walk into the kitchen. You’re pregnant, close to your due date. Even waddling around, Kyle can’t seem to keep his hands off you.

He leans back in his chair, appreciating you for a few languid seconds, then his heart drops into his stomach.

“Damn it all. Put that down, love.”

Kyle shoots out of his chair, trying to calmly but quickly make it over to you.

“I’m fine,” you insist, attempting to walk by. “I can assemble it.”

“No.” Kyle’s tone is firm but gentle. “Give it here.”

His heart is pounding, anxiety spiking from not just the power drill you carry, but the cardboard box full of wood you’re attempting to guide down the hall.

“You sit here.” He points to the chair. “Sort the mail. I’ve got this.”

You slowly ease down into the chair, and Kyle breathes deep, trying to calm his nerves. “Bloody hell, woman,” he mutters.

John "Soap" MacTavish

He hears your footsteps first, and then your voice as you curse under your breath.

Johnny lounges on the sofa, reclining against a fluffy pillow. At his feet are his two-year old twin daughters. On the television, a Bluey episode plays. The girls aren’t watching. They’re smashing their dolls together and running them over with the yellow toy excavator.

Sitting up, Johnny glances over the top of the couch

At first, he smiles. Then frowns. Then launches himself off the couch.

“Put it down,” commands Johnny. “Drop it.” He steps on a doll and winces, wobbling slightly.

You turn toward him, pregnant belly coming into view. You’re carrying a ladder, the large one, and you’re not supposed to be lifting anything over a certain weight.

“Down,” he repeats. “Put it down.”

You roll your eyes and turn away. Johnny makes it to you quickly, grabbing the ladder and placing it on the floor.

“What are you thinking?” he asks. “You’re bloody pregnant.”

“Don’t yell at me.”

“I’m—I’m not yelling,” soothes Johnny, cupping your face in his hands. “But you gave me a right scare, yeah?” He kisses your forehead. “I’ll take care of it. Go sit with the girls.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon is curled up on the sofa, a precious bundle in his lap. His two-year old daughter rests her head against his chest, gaze focused on the colorful pages.

“He started to look for some food,” reads Simon from The Very Hungry Caterpillar. “On Monday he ate through one apple.” His daughter traces the outline of the apple, and then runs her finger over the caterpillar. “But he was still hungry.”

As Simon turns the page, he hears your soft but determined footsteps. He briefly looks away from the book, his gaze falling on your belly, round and full of his child. Inwardly, he smiles, knowing that the family you’ve created together is about to grow by one.

“On Tuesday he ate through two pears,” continues Simon. “But he was still—”

His voice disappears, and his stomach flips, blood pressure spiking as he watches you turn the corner. You have a step stool tucked under your arm and a drill in your hand.

“Goddamn it,” he mutters, lifting his daughter out of his lap and placing her on the sofa. “Daddy will be back shortly, doll.”

He kisses the top of her head, and then takes off after you. With the added weight, your steps are slow, and it only takes Simon a few strides to walk past you and cut you off before you make it to the nursery.

“What are you doing?” he asks, reaching for the drill.

“Hanging a painting,” you reply like it’s no big deal.

Simon sighs. “Give it here.”

“I can do it,” you insist, turning away from his reaching hands.

Simon plucks the drill out of your hand and holds it out of reach. “Give me the step stool.” With a pout, you surrender it. “Gonna give me a bloody heart attack.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @suhmie @z-wantstowrite @kylies-love-letter @keiva1000

@iloveslasher @ravenpoe67 @sadlonelybagel @nishim @arrozyfrijoles23

@voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @sageyxbabey @glassgulls @miaraei

@weasleytwins-41 @eternallyvenus @chaostwinsofdestruction @cherryofdeath @ninman82

@fern-reads @waves-against-a-cliff @beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx

@jianyi22 @sethell @atpeacee @konigssweatyhood @dreamingoftomorrow

@katerinaval @morguethemagpie @galactict3a @sarah-the-bird-nerd @mikachu-bitez

@unclearblur @kurochan3 @sans-chara @hisuccubus @all-by-myself98

@km-ffluv @thriving-n-jiving

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there

summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!

The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 

Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 

They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 

Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 

“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 

“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 

You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 

Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 

Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 

The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”

“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 

Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 

“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 

At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 

You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 

You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 

He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 

“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 

“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 

He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 

He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 

Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 

He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 

You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 

“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”

“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 

You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 

“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 

“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 

“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 

He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 

He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 

as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!

next part

[celtrist]

Next thing you'll say is he doesn't have a tail

ref to this pic

EDIT: Just to keep things clear I didn't really think about bringing it up but not everyone's gonna click to see the first picture and might be confused. Alastor was stated to know only a little bit of broken French, the reasoning due to being from New Orleans. Speaking standard French is very much not a thing in New Orleans, so he would logically only know French-Creole. This is very different from the standard French language and a large misconception that people from New Orleans speak regular French. So yes, he does speak some French, just not as well as people make him nor would it, in theory, be the regular French that everyone makes him speak [but I wouldn't put it past the writers to not do that research but maybe I have too little faith in them]. I'm not from New Orleans, I visited it once so it's not like I'm an expert. But I HAVE looked into it and just bothering with one Google search will tell you it's not common and you'll even have a special term called "Louisiana French" pop up. With that all said, these were statements made on years past streams and could've been changed in the official series. However, as of right now, the official statement is that he speaks only a little broken French that should technically be French-Creole if they're going by and that he's from New Orleans to know that language. And again, I don't have a lot of faith in writers to do the research into it being Louisiana French rather than regular French, but now I'm rambling lol This is just a bit of context for this comic so people who were curious can understand it a bit more. And it's totally possible I got something wrong, so feel free to point it out when I do. I just like to dig into the nooks and crannies of information for things :3 2nd EDIT: Just for any future reblogs, I did get somethings incorrect in the above (not surprising), so here's some of the corrections I got:

@mangotangerine: "A tiny nitpick - it would likely be Louisiana Creole, which is one of the French-based Creole languages (Haitian Creole is prob the most well known as it has about 10-12 million speakers vs Louisiana Creole which has around 10,000 due to multiple factors but especially legislation in early 1920s outlawing it). Louisiana French is an umbrella term for the various French dialects/etc in the region (e.g., the dialect Cajun French)." (We actually had a whole conversation in the comments of this post and highly suggest looking down there in case you're interested in learning more!)

@alyssumflowers: "I am from New Orleans and a little bit of a language nerd. You're confusing some things here. Cajun French is a dialect of French. My great grandmother spoke it fluently, my grandfather in pieces.

Louisiana Creole is another language entirely. The word "creole" means mixed and a creole language is basically a mixture of two or more languages. Sort of, it's a linguistics thing. Anyways. Louisiana Creole has next to no speakers left and I've had a hard time trying to find somewhere or someone to learn it from because I really want to." (Always great to hear from someone who has more insider knowledge on the subject! So I wanted to give this it's share due as well, hope you can fine somewhere to learn it! /ᐠ > ˕ <マ ₊˚⊹♡ )

Thank you for the comments! My previous statement still stands about Al probably not speaking normal French, but I wanted these corrections still known and pointed out :3

[greenglowinspooks]

Hey. Shakes you by the shoulders. DCxDP where Eobard Thawne is Danny’s cool distant “uncle” that he never sees but always sends in the coolest gifts for the holidays.

~

Danny had grown used to seeing people injured at a surprisingly young age.

He wasn’t injured on the regular, or witness to some sort of extraordinary amount of violence; his parents’ lab was just… very volatile, and they were unprofessionally lax on safety measures on the best of days.

As such, when he saw an unconscious, incredibly injured man wearing some sort of superhero suit in their backyard in the early hours of the morning (he had gotten up to get a glass of water when he heard a thump outside), he didn’t panic, as any young child should have in his situation.

No. Instead, Danny dragged the man inside (with considerable difficulty; despite how thin he was, he was heavy), treated his wounds as best he could (it’s difficult for a child younger than 10 to do stitches, you understand), put a blanket over the man, and went back to bed.

After losing a fight to the Flash and passing out in a random suburban lawn, the last thing Eobard was expecting to wake up to was a small child sitting on the floor in front of him, noisily eating a bowl of cereal.

(He had thought, maybe he would have been found by the Flash and brought to some Justice League holding cell. Or, found by a civilian, and brought to the police. Perhaps, in his feverish state, he had remembered the prison he ended up in from his time, with their brands and chemicals and torturous therapies.)

For some unknown reason, this child had found him, not recognized him as the monster he is (perhaps due to the boy’s age), and helped him—even if his healing factor would have fixed him eventually, having all his parts in the right order certainly sped up the process.

Usually he wouldn’t care for civilians. He’d killed enough that he’d lost count what felt like an eternity ago—and yet, somehow, he felt indebted to this boy. This boy, who had helped him so selflessly, who was so entirely clueless to the evil right in front of him.

This boy, who was all alone in an empty house, whose sister was away, whose parents had gone on a trip and left him behind.

(It didn’t matter the explanation the boy gave for it, Eobard’s mind whispered to itself regardless. Kin. Like calling to like.)

And so, he worked hard to free himself from this debt he had incurred.

He traveled through time, working his way into the family whilst posing as a distant relative. It was remarkably easy; the Fentons didn’t have an incredible memory of their relatives; all he had to do was forge a few papers and mention a few people and he was now “Uncle Eo”.

It was, however, taxing on the mind. These people were absurdly friendly, not to mention talkative. The effort had become a multi-year operation, popping in every now and then for large family gatherings and home visits.

It felt… nice, to be wanted for once. To be noticed in his absence for more than just his status.

To be liked.

He made sure to send the boy a gift on the right holidays, as well as on his birthdays. With his skillset, it wasn’t too difficult to follow him around and see what he liked and wanted. It also wasn’t difficult to spy in when he opened them, to ensure that he had done an acceptable job.

Of course, he couldn’t let this sort of thing cut into his time spent fighting the Flash, so he wasn’t too present. The last thing he wanted was to drag trouble into the boy’s life from his presence.

But then, it happened.

He found out that this boy, and the one known in his time as Phantom, were one and the same.

It was, as a historian, thrilling.

It was, as a villain, horrifying.

In all his travels, he had never intended to involve himself with that mysterious being which shadowed the Justice League. That ghost with the power, in some timelines, to bring about the end of all things.

Of course, he was also capable of doing that, but it isn’t exactly fun to meet someone who’s powers are a match for your own.

Especially if you couldn’t find it in yourself to end him, should he make himself your enemy.

Still, he had a debt to repay, and a boy to look after.

He delivered things to the boy’s room to help him; tactical gloves, a lightweight protective suit, weapons and equipment. All uncredited, since the boy seemed to value the idea of a secret identity.

He took it upon himself to shift the odds in his favor a few times, even; making faster-than-light adjustments to the boy and his combatants during fights to shift the odds in his favor.

Somewhere along the years, he had formed some sort of odd affection for the boy, if he was capable of doing so at all.

And so, when that ghost-boy sought his Uncle Eo out all the way in Central City, carved open and scarred, a distant look in his eyes, he took him in without a second thought.

He would protect this boy, who once had protected him.

[bucketbueckers]

STICK AROUND

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

content: language, fluff, slight injury

wc: 2.3k

synopsis: After an arduous year full of ACL recovery, navigating your new yet inexplicably familiar relationship, and falling back in love with Paige Bueckers (not that you ever fell out of love in the first place), Paige is finally cleared and ready to play basketball again for her senior season.

notes: yes this is the same banner. no comments at this time please! this is part 2 to come around, requested by a few anons (sorry i may have deviated from the request a lil bit) & @janaelalfysloml 🫶 i was not expecting the reception CA got - and also!! 1k notes? wtf???? that's actually insane to me, i get on here to yap and procrastinate my homework, i am so blown away by the love and how many of you guys actually like what i write 😭 i love y'all bad! so here is part 2 in honor of CA surpassing 1k notes and my anons and if you're curious - yes flattery gets you everywhere and this is definitely an open invite to keep sending asks. not proofread! i hope you all enjoy this 🫶

tags: @unadulteratedcyclepaper @avvwritesstufff @surferandskater5 @jnkbueckers

The months between August 2022 and November 2023 were full of ups and downs. This is not to say you were miserable – far from it, in fact. Transferring to UConn from UMN was the best decision you’d ever made in your entire life. You’d made more friends, your grades started improving, and you’d truly felt at home in Connecticut, making a name for yourself in some of their student organizations. It would, however, be wrong to neglect the other, considerably important factor in why your life was turning around for the better.

You and Paige were in a much better place – romantically, platonically, in every facet of being each other’s person. Your communication was a lot better. You learned to be a little more direct, to enunciate exactly how you were feeling. Paige learned patience, which is honestly a miracle in and of itself; she learned that it’s not her sole responsibility to try to protect you from outside noise or make whatever decision is best for you. The both of you had good intentions, but sometimes it’s really easy for those good intentions to get swept up in chaos and unravel before you. The both of you had to remember that you’re not just girlfriends, but you’re partners, too – you’re a team.

The year’s ups and downs weren’t on the two of you. You and Paige had “learning curve” moments as you’d called it, having to sit down and have uncomfortable, vulnerable conversations that left you feeling raw on the inside, but healthier in spite of it. Instead of being on the same page, it was as though you and Paige were the weaving lines and sloping letters, beginning on opposite sides yet meeting in the middle to form words, sentences, stories. You weren’t just there. You were together in a completely new sense, working side-by-side with the sort of ease that comes with fully knowing a person inside and out.

The troubles of the year stemmed more from her knee. Her recovery wasn’t linear. Some days were harder than others and some days were downright hell on earth. It was hardly comparable to the time her high school championship was cancelled due to covid – it was worse. The pain would leave her shuddering in bed, hiccuping through tears and there was only so much you could do. You’d spend countless hours at her side, alternating between the heating pad and the ice pack, helping her swallow her painkillers with water when it got too bad, brushing your fingers through her hair and rambling about everything and nothing to distract her. Once she’d made it out of the post-surgery, pain and soreness phase, her days were full of physical therapy and mental battles that tested the both of you. Some days you didn’t know what to say. Sometimes you wouldn’t say anything at all, letting her cry into your shoulder as you held her. Other days you let her talk for hours on end, entrusting you with the uncomfortable parts of her and the whispered confessions of, “I don’t know how I can trust my body after this.” 

Time was what she needed to heal. The both of you knew that. So, you stuck around, knowing that even if Paige was a mess, injured, struggling mentally and physically, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but with her. As the days turn into weeks and the weeks melt into months, she gets better. You knew she would. Watching that light return to her eyes, getting to see that spring in her step, hearing the way her laughter carried across the room was healing for you, too.

As she healed, you studied. You would spend the majority of your time in bed next to her with your textbook sprawled over your lap, her fingers tracing your skin and her chin hooked over your shoulder as she watched you do homework assignments. Your majors couldn’t have been further apart from each other, so admittedly, your time together was spent with Paige asking, “What the fuck is an electrophile?” and you responding with an endeared fondness, “Electro- means negative, -phile means love, so it’s a chemical species that accepts electrons,” followed by Paige huffing and declaring, “Yeah, you got that – you can be the breadwinner and I’ll be your sexy trophy wife.”

Whether she knew it or not, Paige helped you out a lot with your assignments. She kept your head on straight when your assignments got a little overwhelming and forced you to take a break when you were getting grouchy – “It’s what you did for me,” she would remind you, pressing soothing kisses to your cheeks, and murmuring, “You wanna DoorDash take-out?” (and who were you to say no to that?)

So as time passed, Paige recovered, the both of you healed, and by the time November 2023 rolled around, Paige was fully cleared to play basketball again. She’d been ecstatic for the weeks leading up to it, talking your ear off and dragging you to the gym with her even though the two of you fooled around more than she got her shots in. Her happiness was infectious – that was what mattered to you. You knew that she worked hard to get into UConn but you also knew she worked even harder to recover from the kind of injury that tests the resilience of many athletes.

The night before their home opener against Dayton, she revives an age-old tradition that you’d spent years missing. She takes you to Dairy Queen, shooting you an exasperated look over the center console as you teasingly pressed your card into her hand. She pays – she always does – driving off with her ice cream in the cupholder as she focuses on the road and you offer her spoonfuls of the same flavor you’d been ordering since you were both seventeen. Paige serenades you at the red lights, holding your hands and belting out off-key renditions of Keyshia Cole – because that hadn’t changed over the years, either. And when she finally pulls into a secluded parking lot, nothing but the moon and the crickets as your only witness, the two of you joke and ramble and flirt for what only feels minutes but are actually hours.

She still reserves that last bite of ice cream for you, guiding her spoon to your mouth and kissing the remnants off of your lips, relishing in the way your laughter reverberates throughout her Jeep. Paige tastes like vanilla ice cream and happiness, a lingering flavor that’s intoxicating when it mixes with your strawberry and the love for Paige that you’ve kept safe in your beating heart for years. Some things truly never change at all, you think when she rests her warm palm over your thigh as she adjusts her music (and the playlist she has fittingly titled ‘Freaky ass R&B’ with the heart emoji that she uses only for you). Things evolve, and they get better, and they have a way of surprising you in the best way possible, like when Paige gazes at you as you speak, her expression soft with a realization that sounds like I’m going to love you forever and a matching look in your eyes that looks like Forever sounds perfect.

Par for the course, her eyes start drooping around midnight, her movements fluid and her hands perpetually glued to your skin. The two of you talk for a little while longer until she finally blurts, “I have something for you.”

At that, you can only raise your brow, watching her as she leans into the backseat to grab a rectangular, gift-wrapped box. Panic fills your body at the thought that you may have missed an anniversary, but you remind yourself that it’s only November; your official anniversary wasn’t until late December.

She clears her throat, the nervousness reflected in her eyes, and you can’t help but remember how she asked you to be hers for the first time. You’re not seventeen anymore, nor are you in her stepmom’s Honda Pilot, but you’re both twenty-two living a life that feels both new and familiar, basking in a love that you’ve spent your entire life cherishing.

“You can tell me anything,” you remind her, your tone soft, and that’s enough for the tension to ooze out of her shoulders.

She smiles at you, that same smile from the first time she sat down across from you in junior year AP Lit. “I know,” she murmurs. “I just wanna do this right.” Your expression melts into one of understanding. “When I first convinced you to come to one of my games, I gave you my hoodie. I remember Coach lectured me for an hour straight, ‘cause he was all like, ‘Bueckers, the school pays a lot of money for those sweatshirts, and you lost yours!’” You laugh at her imitation of her high school coach. Her eyes shine a little brighter. “Coach wasn’t stupid. I’m sure he knew what actually happened. It was hard to miss you sittin’ in the student section and cheering me on like every bucket was one you made yourself. But, honestly…I didn’t care. I liked being able to look over and see you wearin’ my name and my number. It made me feel like I wasn’t just your best friend, that I was someone you’d want to…you know, do life with. That one day you’d love me in the way I loved you even though I didn’t know it was love yet.”

“So, you came to more of my games,” she continues. “You wore my hoodie. We’d get ice cream after and we’d talk for hours. I still remember that night I almost kissed you on your porch, that afternoon in your bed when I told you we weren’t so far away, that morning when I finally kissed you in the snow, when I asked you to be my girlfriend.” Paige swallows uncomfortably. “I remember when I broke your heart. I thought I was doing you a favor, but I just hurt the both of us. I missed you for two years but I didn’t think you’d ever want me back. So I hid. But we’d text each other happy birthday, and you’d reach out after I’d injured myself. I didn’t think I deserved your attention after what I did. Then I tore my ACL, and despite everything, you came.”

“You called,” you whisper, like it was the simplest thing in the world – because it was. Your heart beats to a cadence that sounds like the dribbling rhythm of a basketball and you know that Paige’s heart beats in tandem with yours. The two of you were so inexplicably intertwined in the fabric of each other’s lives, each other’s hearts, that it was difficult to discern where you began and she ended, but you knew that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Yeah,” Paige agrees, her eyes shining. “I’on care what it takes, you’re stuck with me this time around. I am never letting you go. You’re my past, present, and my future. Which is why I want you to have this.” She gives you a meaningful look and you begin to unwrap the box. When you take the lid off, you can’t stop the smile from growing on your face as you reach in, wrapping your hands around Paige’s zip-up tracksuit hoodie. It has the Husky logo and it smells just like her. You know it’s the school issued one that she wears everywhere. “It doesn’t have my name or my number on it or anything, but I got a little something embroidered on the inside.” Allowing her to guide you, she pulls back the lapel, and on the left side, directly under the Husky logo that rests over your heart, the words “Not impossible. Not for us” are stitched delicately into the fabric. You feel tears prick at your eyes as you laugh softly. “Coach is gonna kill me,” she muses, “but it’s worth it – especially since you’ll be sitting courtside in my hoodie like we’d always talked about.”

Your lip trembles, but you’re smiling widely. “Paige,” you murmur. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll stick around for my games,” she says softly. “See if I’m still good at this basketball thing after taking a year off.”

Despite yourself, you laugh, placing the hoodie back into the box and wrapping your arms around her neck. Her hands find your hips, her lips pressing into your temple, and you both melt into each other with an overwhelming amount of relief. “You know I’m there,” you say. “Always will be.”

Paige squeezes your waist, pulling back far enough to smile at you before her lips find yours, kissing you with a gentleness and a passion that hasn’t gone away, no matter how long you’ve been together or how long you’ll spend looking for each other. Her kiss feels more like a vow of forever, and when she breaks away, whispering something that sounds like an I love you, you promise the same thing.

(You’re courtside at her home opener, as promised. You watch as Geno shakes his head at Paige when he catches her staring at you, mumbling something about these damn kids, but you know that she doesn’t care and you don’t either. She reserves a spot for you at every game, at every team hangout, in that crevice of her heart that you’d tattooed your name on ages ago. Every day, you fall just a little bit further in love with Paige, and one of the things that you know with an absolute certainty is that you’re spending the rest of your life with her.)

[2698rr]

onesies and baby food

| 1.6k words | x female reader | fluff |

basically, Jason finds a baby and takes care of it with reader (his girlfriend)

you’d never spoke of having children, never. there was a sort of underlying knowing there that it wasn’t on the table.

for many factors. childhood trauma leaving a dent, jason’s late night activities or well—the fact you lived in Gotham.

so children weren’t a keen interest, something you both were hungry to have.

ironic since you fucked like bunnies in heat, but that’s not too important. no, what was important was the fact there was a baby sitting in your living room.

jason looked guilty, his lip was jutted out as he chewed on the inside of it, his eyes were both straying far away and latching onto yours to see your reaction.

and you’re not too pleased.

“Jason..” you breathed out, not wanting to argue with him—and not wanting to wake the small child. as much as you weren’t thrilled to have kids, you were very aware of just how softly he held the child.

how those hands, the ones he often believed held a sense of sin with them, the ones he believes are only good for hurt, cradled a small, vulnerable thing ever so kindly.

it tugged in your heart a little, left a kiss mark that burned. you had to snuff it out, at least for now.

“look.. baby.” he said, rising to his feet as he shifted the baby to rest comfortably, you had to force your eyes away due to it. “It’s just temporary, until i can find her auntie” he said, voice almost a quiver, a plead.

you were reluctant, staring at him. but as horribly as he saw himself, as horrible as he deems he is, he was a good man. caring and soft in the ways he has to hide.

he means good, he’s always meant good. and it’s not like you were heartless, you weren’t going to throw the child away, make it fend for itself, it’s a baby for Christ’s sake.

you didn’t say anything, just nodded.

a week is what it took to gather everything, from a crib to a stroller. enough diapers and food, clothes. (which you couldn’t kid, had been quite enjoyable)

Jason was thriving, if it wasn’t for the fact the two of you knew you weren’t the right candidates for children, you’d suspect this came naturally.

he was perfect with the baby. awake at any single peep, washing, bathing, cleaning, cooking. he was there for it all.

you’d grown quite fond and used to the child aswell, falling asleep with her on your chest, swaddling her late at night as the two of you awaited jason.

it was becoming a new normal that you two honestly (however quite quietly) enjoyed.

the sound of the television could be heard, you were focusing on gathering all the dirty clothes around the house. (that had doubled since the baby had joined) when you heard a quiet cry.

it wasn’t a cry that left you worried however—lord knows how long it took to distinguish that— instead it was a cry of curiosity.

your feet padded into the carpeted floor as you swiftly made your way to the small child. eyes darting over to where she laid in her crib.

her hands grasped at her, inching for something you could not yet see. however the closer you came you could make out the figure of jason.

her murmurs grew quite loud, giggling and babbling at jason, or more so—red hood. who was now looking at you, busy unsheathing his gloves.

“Was going to try and come in quietly” he mumbled, tone drowsy with needed sleep and weary from whatever attacks his body had endured.

The baby continued to mumble and mutter as her hands grasped rather aggressively, or as aggressively as a newborn can. “‘ts alright..” you replied.

slowly moving over closer to jason who was quick to rest his hands on your waist, his body instinctively curling itself in to you.

Your fingers moved and curled underneath the helmet he wore, the distinctive hiss of it coming off padded against the walls.

however the laugh that followed form neither of you and rather the small child in the crib is what made it a rather tender moment.

it was hearty, one that used all of the baby’s tiny lung capacity to push out, causing her face to turn beet red as she giggled and stared up at jason ever so adoringly.

your laugh followed out next which had the frown lines in his face to disperse and to rather crack his own smile at it all.

over the last few weeks since the small thing had joined, a quiet sort of family was settling in. and with every day that a response isn’t heard from her auntie is another day you silently plead she never responds.

You feel horrible for it, of course you do. the child belongs with her blood, her family. but is family only blood?

you’d grown to learn all sorts of things about the baby, how she disney like the potato and mash baby food and rather prefers the peas and carrot’s one.

how certain tops of baby bottles are her favrioute, what socks irritate her skin, what cry’s call for what and even the warmth of her body on top of your heart.

and jason well, he’d never verbalise his own feelings. but the more you know jason the more you can see jason, in his eyes or his facial expressions or even the simple way he carries himself.

with that fact, it was clear as day that he’d be as torn as you once the baby goes. after all he now often works with the baby sitting on his lap or his foot rocking the baby seat you had gotten.

he has many notes from weeks of focusing on what’s good for the baby (which had caused him to freak out one night for letting the baby try an almond)

it was safe to say that quietly, ever so slowly, had you become a sort of family. despite that, you didn’t have a name for her.

she was nearing two months old and had spent nearly a month with you and yet there was no name.

turns out the mother never named it and the two of you were reluctant to give her a name, after all how could you ever pull her away from yourselves if you named her yourself.

Jason was quiet for a few moments, just flicking his eyes between his two girls, something he’d noticed he’s been thinking to himself often.

he couldn’t deny that often his thoughts swayed to what it would be like if you two were to keep her, or if you two were to ever have your own child.

he’d never thought of it before, he never wanted it. to pass down the ‘todd’ name felt like a curse in his eyes, his blood was posion and he wanted to refrain from passing it on.

not to mention the what if’s, what if something like joker happened again, what if he never makes it home.

he didn’t want that, he didn’t want the endless possibility’s of negativity to ever happen.

however when the lights are dim and the scent of you and jason mixed into the bedsheets engulf him, when he tilts his head and sees you, face relaxed and content with a small shuffling baby, he reconsiders.

He doesn’t notice that you’ve picked her up, he doesn’t notice that your hand is rubbing soothing circles into the side of his arm while the baby’s head rests over your heart, he doesn’t notice until your soft voice murmurs “have a shower, then come to bed.”

so he does, he moves to the bathroom while you heat up some baby formula for her. you change her into a onesie with (ironically) bats on it, and position the two of you into bed.

jason’s quick with the shower, obviously ready to rest and go to sleep. his body slides in and is quick to press against yours, one hand moving to rub your arm softly while the other patters soft motions into the baby’s back.

you’re both silent, both laying there. blankets heaped up like fluffy marshmallows, the lingering scent of a candle from hours ago sticks and both of your breaths mingle.

“Shyla..” jason’s quick to turn his head as your voice speaks out, he raises an eyebrow in confusion but says no more. “Her name.. it should be shyla”

your body shuffles closer to his as you press your nose into the head of her hair, its neither your nor jason’s colour yet it suits her beautifully, you take in the smell of a baby and your body relaxes ever so more.

he makes a huff like noise, not out of anger or discomfort, rather just acknowledgment. “why’s that” he mumbles out, his fingers continuing to move as he rests the side of his head on yours.

your voice rumbles into his skull and he sighs. “Well, it’s a more modern sheila.. don’t you think?” and jason’s quick to snap his head up.

his mothers name, not exactly but the intent is there, after all you’d been with jason long enough for him to finally be comfortable enough to even mention (let alone speak) about his upbringing.

however, he doesn’t hate it.

in-fact, a part of him fawns at it. heart warms at not only the way you think of him, of connecting him. but at the fact you remember those parts.

“Yeah..” he mumbled and you relaxed. it went quiet again for a few moments, the baby moving and shuffling as she often did, your hand moving to rest ontop of his while the two of your eyes remained closed.

“I don’t want to give her back” you admitted and jason let a snort out. “neither”

somewhere along the line the three of you had fallen asleep, jason waking up at one point to put shyla into her crib, only to lazily slink back into the warm sheets.

all that could be hoped was she could stay.

—

hope you enjoyed! i kinda whipped this up quick cause i wanted to do some fluff, its kinda shit i won’t lie, it’s unedited and done on my notes app mwhaha

my board for more works!

ao3; 2698RR

[northopalshore]

Union persona chart

ପ observations iii ଓ

This is a collection of aspects I've observed in the Union (1585) persona chart based on people I've met in real life & a few celebrities. Result may vary depending on the sign, house and degree each aspect is in but this post still counts as a base for understanding the aspects listed below.

୨୧ Please do not repost without consent ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔฅ🔉

♡ Union persona chart Masterlist | Masterlist

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*

☕ Mercury trine Saturn you'll think that your partner is someone mature who is mature and emotionally stable.

☕Mercury conjunct Boda (1487) you'll think that your partner is marriage material & may plan on marrying them from the get go

☕Juno in °22 degree meeting your significant other will change your life drastically, I'd like to call this the Cinderella placement!

☕7th house ruler in the 12th house almost always means either a long-distance relationship, private relationship or secret relationship (or all three!)

☕ Juno in the 7th & 10th house means you're going to meet through some sort of work either theirs or yours

☕ 7th house ruler in the 2nd house or 8th house you'll meet them through a money or service related venture (your spouse is likely the one providing the service)

☕ Venus square Saturn when you meet, you may think that this isn't the best time to start a relationship or be in love. You might've refrained from being in any relationships as well up to this point. It's literally breaking the "relationship fast" you have.

Sun conjunct Part of Fortune you may meet them while getting a promotion, or a new project/role.

☕ Sun conjunct Uranus you will not expect to meet someone like them or someone of their status. This is a star-crossed lovers aspect. They may be a boost to your current status as well. (I think Lisa has this in her Union persona chart)

☕ Moon conjunct North Node you may feel like meeting them was a part of destiny especially due to the circumstances of your meeting.

☕ Mars trine Jupiter when you first meet, it's very likely that you'll be seeing them quite often /almost everyday in person, whether through work, school or a shared project. You will be together, or at least see each other quite often.

☕ Mercury trine Chiron talking to them will be very healing to you, you could talk very often and openly, sharing your trauma and past experiences. You'll find that you may share a lot of similarities in that area.

☕ Venus conjunct Juno you may think of them as your ideal partner or idealise them a lot especially when first getting to know each other (dating).

☕ Sun square Mars/Saturn you may feel rather restrained around them, or may not be able to ease up much around them because of nervousness, or timidity. You may act more "mature" around them at first or less crazy than usual (lol).

☕ Jupiter conjunct Chiron being around them may trigger a lot of insecurities within you, perhaps you may feel "lesser" than them in some way.

☕ Pluto conjunct Starr (4150)

depending on the house it's in, being with them may push you to stardom or you may gain money/ popularity. It's not always favorable to see however; you may be known for a tumultuous love life as well depending on other placements/factors. (Priscilla Presley has this placement in the 2nd house. )

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*

☕ Neptune square North/South Node they will come as a surprise to you, they are likely different from the type of person you expect to meet or different from the people you used to date

☕ Venus trine Neptune romance with them will make you feel giddy, and a part of you may feel like it's too good to be true

☕ Jupiter in the 12th house you may travel to them a lot or travel just to see them often, even after dating

☕ North Node conjunct Midheaven (MC)

being with them will change your reputation, whether in your career, public or both. You might feel like they give you direction as well. A new door; a new life.

☕ Moon conjunct Juno you will feel like they are your perfect match, your soulmate. " Finally, someone gets me."

☕ Chiron conjunct ascendant

you may think it's a risky move to be with them, or being with them may hurt your reputation in a way.

☕ Sun conjunct Boda

meeting them may make you think of marriage or long-term commitment. ( sniper sniper sniper sniper, wifey wifey wifey wifey)

☕ Moon square Mercury you might not share a lot of your true feelings with them or might hold your tongue a lot at first ( either because of trust issues or caution). You may also find it difficult to see each other on the same level and get offended easily (both sides).

☕ Venus opposite Pluto they will change your mind about love when you meet them or seem like a knight in shining armor amongst disappointments and heartbreaks

☕ Sun trine Moon there is an immediate compatibility, also like you've met before or seem like childhood friends (even though you've never met)

☕ Sun conjunct Venus love at first sight!

☕ Sun conjunct Jupiter in the 3rd house you will enjoy long conversations when you meet your future spouse, you feel like there is much to talk about together & have a lot in common. You may also be online a lot when you meet them.

☕ Sun conjunct Mercury you may make the first move when you feet them i.e start the conversation

☕ Lilith trine Uranus your relationship will help push you be more authentic towards yourself and others, you feel seen on a very personal level (respect s your individuality).

☕ Sun conjunct Jupiter ( in the 11th house) you might be gaining popularity when your first meet them or meeting them will cause a boost in your popularity. In the 11th house, it might be related to your online presence or reputation.

☕ Mercury opposite Mars you will be very hesitant to make any moves towards your person, or you might not think that they would strike up the first conversation (did not expect).

⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*:⋆⋆°.☾⋆.ೃ࿔*

Thanks for reading ♡

@northopalshore

@northopalshore union persona chart 2025 all rights reserved.

Support ?

[neuro-psyche]

I think there would be a major disconnect between the bats and the rest of the JL/super powered folk due to injuries and pain.

Let me explain.

I saw this post and it made me think of the healing factor/invulnerability of most of the JL. Clark is practically impervious, Diana’s worst injury is a paper cut at her day job, and the Green Lanterns have a passive force field, so on and so forth. But Batman bleeds. The only one who’s got any sort of healing factor is Jason, but it’s nothing compared to the flashes.

I can imagine Batman nursing some sort of injury like a broken rib from a punch he took from some super villain of the week, whereas Diana, who took the same punch, just shook it off. Batman isn’t jealous. He’s not bitter or angry. He just notices it. He knows he’s not as unmovable as them. But no one else sees that.

But I think it would really become an issue with his kids. Seeing all of his kids participate in a superhero team at some point, most of which start those teams or lead them at some point, because he trained them harder than anyone else. Because they’re not invulnerable.

And the turning point would be if one of those kids gets hurt. Like if Dick broke a bone or something and needed to have it reset in the field, Batman telling him “Scream if you need to” and it actually happening would really make the supers around them take notice. The bats aren’t invulnerable. But they’re the most dangerous of the JL.

Idk I just thought it would be interesting. I might write something with the concept because I could go on about it.

[frankenfran]

ultimately no matter how hard you try, you will be misinterpreted. you can be as nice as possible, say as few words as possible, try to garner as much goodwill as you can but none of that matters. your actions and behaviour don't speak for you. is it fair? fairness doesn't factor into the equation. spend all your time trying to fight this perception and you'll just been seen as defensive or argumentative. everyone else speaks a different dialect that you can never learn due to an inherent evil. a sneaky fox is never genuine, i suppose. even licking her wounds she has some sort of agenda. what luck then, to be a creature that embodies duplicitousness yet feels love all the same. another tail sprouting marks 100 years of experience, a badge of honour showing your survival. surely all that time was spent lying and cheating.

[formulakracing]

“my favorite driver!” - t.w.

pairing: fem driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 1.9k

warnings: cursing, mostly fluffy content, jack being a little shit (unintentionally), some tension between an ex-wife and the new girlfriend, mentions of divorce, toto being clueless, yadayadayada

a/n: well, well, well. here we are. a busy day of karting complete with jack, toto, golden girl, & susie! lemme know if you guys enjoyed this one! <3

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

"are you ready?"

exhaling, you adjust your cap, praying that it will somehow keep your identity protected. after all, you wanted nothing more than to keep a low profile today.

"as ready as i'll ever be."

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

"be careful, schatzi," he rolls his eyes, "if you sound any more ecstatic you may burst like a little bubble."

"oh yeah," you scoff, lingering in the passenger seat. your hand hovers above the handle of the door, palms clammy as your fingers wrap around the cool surface, "i'm filled to the brim with excitement."

"hey," fingers grasp your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact, "it is not going as terrible as you think."

"it sounds like it's going to be an absolute shit show," you cringe internally as a whine escapes from lips, "i have to sit next to your ex-wife all weekend! we both know that i am the last person she wants be seen with."

toto tuts, shaking his head, "can you at least push through? for me? for jack? he's been chattering about this all week. you have no idea how much this means to him."

"i'll try my best," shame ripples within you, cheeks burning as toto nods, shooting you a wink.

"that's my girl. now, let's get going. he starts in about an hour."

the illustrious team principal slips out of the car, shutting the driver's side door. before you know it, he's on the other side of the coupe, a breeze rolling through as he opens the passenger door, prompting you to come on out. swallowing the lump in your throat, you oblige, ensuring that your bag and sunglasses aren't forgotten.

keeping your head low, your heart skips a beat as you feel his fingers find yours, intertwining them together. he squeezes tenderly, a signal that he was there for you, no matter what.

with that anxious sensation growing in the pit of your stomach, you couldn't be more grateful for his reassurance.

since there was a brief break in your schedule, you agreed to accompany toto to a weekend of karting. well, mostly because of jack. the little one was constantly buzzing about you, often inquiring when he was going to meet you. due to the nature of both of your bustling lives, toto conferred with susie on what a good time would be.

the two ended up settling on a weekend between singapore and austin, a couple of weeks before the united states grand prix.

it was a simple outing, really. hanging out with your boyfriend on a beautiful autumn day. you would be introducing yourself to his kid, a little one who absolutely adored you. yet, there was one factor that weighed heavy on your mind.

susie.

the f1 academy founder and racing mogul would be in attendance today in support of her son.

and god, did the thought of facing her for the first time since the news broke have you absolutely reeling.

what would she say? would she be kind? or rather, would it be a sickeningly sweet sort of niceness? would it all be a facade? would she even acknowledge you? would she let you meet jack?

no matter how much toto told you that she was over it, there was still that anxious feeling. it was ever-present, gnawing away at you.

and now, as you approach the garages, hand-in-hand with toto, that anxiety heightened, almost paralyzing you with fear. with every step, it felt as if you feet were concrete, barely moving at all.

"it's okay baby," a voice, his voice, floods your ear. it's barely a whisper, almost inaudible as you grow closer to the throng of parents and children, "i love you."

chewing on your lower lip, you manage to croak out a response, "i love you too."

you hadn't even spoken with susie yet and you were already bristling with fear. only five minutes had passed since you got out of the car and your palms were slick with sweat, armpits damp as well.

fuck, was this going to be torture.

you could manage to get behind the wheel of a vehicle that topped speeds of over two hundred miles an hour but meeting an ex-wife and former acquaintance was almost too much.

how fucked was that?

for a moment, you couldn't but admire toto's initiative to keep your nerves at bay. how he had pulled you closer, looping your arm through his. how his thumb traced soothing circles into your skin, his mercedes cap situated on your head.

he was doing everything in his power to keep you calm. and god, did you love him for that.

the team principal comes a halt, your heart thudding as scans the garage. he pauses, eyes forming slits as he searches for susie. after all, with her blonde bob and striking smile, she was pretty distinguishable.

you couldn't forget a stunning face like susie's.

"ah," toto sucks in a breath, "guten morgen!"

your head swivels in the direction of his voice, picking out a blonde. the woman turns, lips pulling into a grin as she recognizes toto.

"good morning!"

your hand trembles, knees almost buckling as she strolls towards you, little one in tow. for a moment, you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that maybe this was some sort of a dream. praying that you would simply wake up, wrapped up in your lover's arms.

yet, his hand breaking away from yours reminds you that is real. very real.

you remain still as toto's arm envelop susie's frame, bringing her in for a warm embrace. he pecks her cheeks, the words indistinguishable. you recognize them as german, cursing yourself slightly for not keeping up with your courses.

"and good morning to you," susie bears a bright smile as she turns to you, opening her arms up for a hug. you return the gesture, awkwardly placing two kisses on either cheek.

"it's nice to see you again."

"papa!" a voice squeals, bursting with joy, "she's here! my favorite driver is here!"

at that, you notice susie's right eye twitch. toto kneels, scooping jack up. he hoists the little one into the air so that he was at your level. at the interaction, you feel your lips curl, forming a quaint smile.

"guten morgen, jack! i can't believe i'm finally meeting my favorite kart racer. i think i'm a little starstruck."

jack's eyes widen, his cheeks tinged a rosy pink. his hands fly to his face, shielding his shyness. toto leans in, whispering something in his ear. in turn, jack peeks out, stars glistening in his gaze as he peers at you.

"did you come to watch me race today?"

"i did," you nod, "i figured i would give your dad some company today."

"mama says that you keep my dad company too much and-"

"let's not worry about what mommy thinks," susie cuts in, "let's just worry about racing today, okay?"

toto arches a brow, yet holds his composure, "let's go check out the kart and let the women gossip, yeah? what do you think about that?"

jack nods enthusiastically as toto sets him down. taking his father's hand, he leads him to the other end of the garage, buzzing about a mile a minute. for a moment, there's a beat of silence, susie inhaling a sharp breath.

"i am so sorry."

"about?" your brow furrows, "ms. wolff, you have nothing to be-"

"it's stoddart now," susie's lips form a tight line, her eyes squeezing shut, "did toto not inform you? the divorce was finalized."

"i-" you stammer, swaying slightly, "i-i had no idea."

the blonde rolls her eyes, bringing a hand to her temple, "he has a knack for forgetting important events like that. i apologize for putting you on the spot. i hope you know that i have no ill-will or grudge toward you. it's just... different, you know? he is so different now that he has you."

"what do you mean by that?"

susie motions her head, pointing in the direction of toto and jack, "just look at him. i have never seen him so loving or careful with anyone until you came into the picture. i have never seen him so proactive in jack's life. you have changed him. you truly are his golden girl."

in that moment, your heart swells, bliss rippling all throughout as you watch toto and jack. the little one's hand was wrapped around toto's finger, the child showcasing all of the new modifications to his kart. toto couldn't look any more proud, his gaze brimmed with affection, dimples apparent as jack toted him along.

"susie," you begin, attempting to form some sort of response that would truly express your gratitude, "thank you, for that. you really have no-"

"don't thank me," a chuckle bubbles up in her throat, the blonde resting a hand on your shoulder, "just stick around, yeah? i don't know if i can handle anymore drab and depressed toto. also, i wouldn't mind if you wanted to stop by the academy sometime. we miss you around there."

"i could probably fit that in sometime," you beam, "there isn't much more of the season left. i would love to come by and see how things are progressing."

"don't feel like you have to just because of me," susie sticks outs a hand, "i know you're fairly busy at brackley in your free time."

after her statement, she winks, heat billowing into your cheeks the moment you realize what she meant.

so she had heard the rumors.

"well," the blonde clears her throat, fishing her phone out of her pocket, "my partner is going to be here any minute now. i need to go meet up with her so she doesn't get lost. you think you can keep the boys out of trouble?"

"i sure can," a giggle flows from your lips, "i'll go see what they're up to. isn't the first lap going to start here soon?"

"yes," susie responds, spinning on her heel, "if i can't find you two around here, will you text me from toto's phone?"

"of course!" you chirp, flashing her a thumbs up, "we'll meet up with you soon!"

"great," susie flashes you a grin, waving at the boys one last time.

as she disappears among the growing crowd of parents, children, and family, you make your way towards toto and jack. the moment jack spots you, he waves you over, "i need help!"

"what is it?" you fold your arms across your chest.

"will you give me some tips?" the little one cocks his head as toto zips up his racing suit.

"what sort of tips?" there's a cozy sensation blooming in your chest as you kneel to the ground.

"racing tips, duh!"

"i'll tell you what," carefully, you place your hands on his shoulders, maintaining eye contact.

"the most important thing i can tell you to do is to believe in yourself. if you can do that, then you can do anything."

"anything?" jack's lip purse, toto hovering with his helmet in his grasp.

dipping your head, you take the helmet, placing it on the child's head, "anything. no go kick ass out there. i know you'll do great!"

at your words, you can't help but notice the way jack brightens. his mouth forms a radiant smile. for a minute, he's a spitting-image of his father, the sight tugging at your heart.

"okay! i'll go kick some ass! only cause you said i can!"

as toto helps him into the kart, you rise to your feet, a singular thought buzzing in your mind.

maybe one day a little toto wouldn't be so bad.

just maybe.

[cvnt4him]

Bunny Izuku deserves a little kiss. As a treat.

yes, he's such a sweetie

Imagining holding bunny!izu in bed, it's lazy slow day where you have nothing to do and can just lie down with your baby. Izukus head is being squished by your arms as you lazy twirl your fingers in his fluffy head, letting your finger get caught in one of his many frizzy curls.

Occasionally when you laugh you scratch his head with a smile on your face from whatever was on TV, his foot patting and kicking against the bed when you scratch that one spot behind his ear just right. Both of his ears go down at the blissful feeling. A small huff leaving him as his nose twitches.

Sometimes you watch him closely and see the way he looks at TV, he's a curious little thing and sometimes you wonder what all can he really understand. It's not like he does much learning. He reads, and he can talk. That's pretty interesting for a hybrid from the woods. You take a long look at him and see the way he blinks oddly. One eye closing before the other one does too

It completely caught you off guard. Does he always blink like this? Was it just him being extremely relaxed??? Is this a normal thing?? Your mind just asked so many questions causing you to giggle. The sweet noise making his ear twitch towards you as he slowly strains to turn his head from your tight hold to look at you.

He looks at you and blinks normally, batting his lashes at you as if he were asking you something. you seen his nose twitch and his eyes search your face, those stupid big beautiful eyes. He was such a handsome little... big thing.

Suddenly you got a rush of cuteness aggression. No words were said as you hold him tighter and messily kiss all over him. He whined and tried to move from your grasp at first due to being startled before he immediately relaxed as you kissed his nose. It was wild to think he got stunned or in some sort of trance when you kissed or even booped his nose. Cute little factor about izuku you suppose.

You plant one last kiss in between his eyes, you see the way they slightly crossed to look at the spot you planted a kiss. His ears immediately flopping down to both side of his head, his small fluffy tail wagging and he just scooted closer to you.

He's a little lovesick idiot.

[centrally-unplanned]

Recently I have heard a bunch of people discussing Sarah Paine, a professor at the US Naval War College. Dwarkesh Patel uploaded a bunch of her lectures to his YouTube, Noah Smith (jokingly) referred to her as the One Good Historian, etc. She appeals to, in particular, the "neo hawk" camp around rising competition with China.

She had a video on Japan in WW2 which, given that that is my area of expertise, I thought I would watch...and it is weird, man. She has the cultural bent to her analysis - she approaches analyzing Japan's strategic decision-making from in part their cultural obsessions with bushido, the imperial system, etc. This is an "old guard" approach that modern historiography tends to downplay - for example, interviews with captured POWs (who didn't surrender) during the war generally showed not that they were motivated by a deep code of honor (though ofc it was there), but by propaganda from their own government that if captured the US would torture and execute them. Bansai charging makes a bit more sense now, right? But Paine isn't dogmatic about it, and it isn't like the cultural factors played no role in Japan's thinking, so this is a matter of taste.

But much more off-putting are these sort of "communist menace" vibes that run through it, where she portrays Japan as inordinately concerned with the communist forces in China as some sort of big threat. That just is not true, they did not consider them very relevant, and it leads to a bunch of weird statements. Like okay, ~27 minutes in, we have this quote:

[China in the 1930's] is a mess. It is coalescing into a bilateral competition between the Nationalists under Chiang Kai Shek and the Communists under Mao Zedong, fighting with increasing dosages of Soviet aid. And the Japanese are appalled with all of this, and so it is time to surprise everybody again in 1937 - when they invade all the way down the Chinese coast.

Essentially pitching a narrative of growing communist/nationalist civil war provoking Japan into action to intervene. Which, I am sorry, what? This is a map of China in 1937

With Nationalist China/The KMT ruling most of the country in some form and the Communist forces ruling a rump state fortress in the mountains. By 1934 the civil war was pretty much on a standstill, and in 1936 (involving a kidnapping of Chiang, diplomacy baby!) they even signed a ceasefire to unite against the Japanese. And while she can weasel-word her way out of this, most people's read of that phrasing of "Soviet aid" would think it was going to the Communist forces to help them, right? But that isn't true! The Soviets in the 1930's were giving far more aid to the Nationalists, backing them as the obvious winners and hoping to court them as an ally against Japan.

There was no rising communist threat in China in the 1930's - instead there was a growing unity in China under the KMT to oppose the Japanese that was causing Japanese military planners to fret. Which would justify Japan's "surprise intervention"...if they did that intentionally, but they didn't! The war was started essentially by mistake, and Japan (and China) both tried to negotiate a ceasefire multiple times before it spiraled out of control due to aggressive local commanders.

(This also is the case for Japan's "other" surprise she mentions, the invasion of Manchuria - it was a strategic ploy to expand the empire, yes, but by the local 'Kwangtung Army' in open defiance of the government's orders! Not exactly 'high strategy'.)

In isolation any one of these - and other examples in the video - could just be awkward phrasings or interpretive differences, but in aggregate I think this is a level of revisionism that I can't stomach as being in good faith. It is just one video but these are pretty basic mistakes to be making. I don't think this person is a good historian, which definitely makes me question her expertise on the present-day CCP.