#if you see and treat me like a child i think the problem is on you

[msnihilist]

@marshemillow Sorry, I'm choosing to reply in a reblog because it turns out that I actually have quite a lot to say about this and I don't think it'll fit in a reply >_<

This is why I put, "it's not just me, is it?" in the tags. Because the narrative doesn't directly do this, but the way that the later seasons of SU handled Pink Diamond just... left a bad taste in my mouth, I guess.

When the truth comes out about Rose being Pink, Garnet breaks apart because Ruby and Sapphire feel like they've been manipulated to be together. Which is fair. I don't think any of the characters are "feeling" the wrong things, I think some of this stuff is nuanced and there's no "correct" way to feel about Rose.

But Pearl explains that, for Rose, the "revolution" was just for herself, mainly, until she met Garnet — that seeing Garnet expanded her world in ways she'd never even thought of and her revolution became for Garnet, and all the other Gems who didn't fit underneath Homeworld's tyranny. So that's cool. And it makes sense — Pink Diamond is so high-ranking and secluded from normal Gems that I really don't think she ever thought about others feeling the same way as her before!

Except that when Ruby and Sapphire choose to get married, they're doing it because "this time Garnet is our choice," (like she wasn't before??) and they don't say anything about Rose, or have, like, a seat set aside for her?

I guess what gets me the most is that, later on in the show, Rose is treated like a shadow that hangs over everyone instead of their dead friend who fought for them to live a life filled with their own choices. Because this pattern with things being "now Rose-free" like Ruby and Sapphire's wedding, continues.

In SU Future, the Gems have set up "Little Homeworld" which is a school for them to teach Gems how to be themselves. Which is neat! I like it a lot. I like that some of the Gems legitimately do find satisfaction in their assigned roles, and some don't (good allegory for finding your own gender and sexuality, here, too 👍)

But, like, the Crystal Gems named their "freedom school" after the dictatorship that they fought so long to leave. And some Gems still enjoy living that way. So it's clearly not that Homeworld itself is the problem, or what the Gems are trying to heal from.

And it feels like Steven's whole healing journey is getting as far away from his mom as possible. Ever since the whole "I am my mom" stuff, the narrative has been saying that Steven is burdened by the legacy that Rose left him with. (Sorry that she didn't think thousands of years into the future before trying to leave her abusive family as peacefully as possible???) And it's fine for him to feel that way, but it's not Rose's fault. She never foresaw herself even having a child, or that Homeworld would come back to torment said child thousands of years later.

He leaves Beach City to "find himself," which is cool, but even in the finale episode of SU Future, he's being hugged by everyone, including the Diamonds, and there's no mention at all of his mother. Between the Ruby and Sapphire wedding, and Pearl's thing with Volleyball, it feels like they're all trying to heal from Rose herself.

Between Volleyball and Spinel, God, I can't tell which writer hated Rose more! Calling what Rose did to Volleyball a "tantrum" (yes, because God forbid an abused child with no emotional regulation lash out) felt so disrespectful towards Rose as well as Volleyball. And the whole thing with Pearl ("how did you move on?" "I didn't.") felt SO pretentious and honestly really soured my enjoyment of the episode. Because they never talked about Homeworld or the Diamonds, they talked about Pink, and what she did to them.

And the hug at the end of SUF proves that it wasn't Homeworld that Steven, or anyone else, was trying to heal from. The Diamonds were ultimately forgiven. So I don't understand why Rose is treated as a narrative Boogeyman.

It's so weird to me that Steven Universe retroactively tried to make Pink Diamond into a bad person, like?? She was abused and neglected and manipulated, and no one saw her as anything important even after she 'died.' She was a toy to White and a funny little thing to Blue and Yellow. Her sisters liked her dances and her songs and her happiness, but they never really liked her — in fact, they tried for decades and centuries to smother anything individual about her. And they only realized they were wrong thousands of years later.

Personally, I think everything Rose did was justified. I wouldn't have handled that kind of abuse with even half as much dignity and grace.

[nablah]

for once i'd like people not to infantilize me just because i'm obviously disabled and polite and petite and "feminine" and asexual

[theprinceandthewitch]

... The way i know these alternate versions of Adrien and Marinette are going to have a healthier relationship than the originals, but theyre gonna try framing it as a bad thing because they're "EEEVIL."

They're going to have open and honest communication with each other [since it looks like they're still choosing to work together as a team] and Claw Noir is gonna display some form of agency in his actions but the writers will be like "NO, this isnt good! Adrien can't have any agency of his own because he's too emotional and he exists just to be a pretty prize Marinette wins after defeating the villain."

[drev-the-procrastinator]

love waking up to my mom giving me an ultimatum and ordering that i have to give up my (admittedly expensive) apartment 1n 2 weeks and move back home for good. i had stuff to do today but i guess being gripped by dread and anxiety works too

[deep-sea-horror]

actually its a lot harder to be annoyed with qi rong when you realize he’s a direct parallel to hua cheng

[mediocre-writing]

A chance | LN4

Summary: Lando has been in love with the same person since he was 18. The problem? She doesn't think it will work out because he's younger.

Pairing: Lando Norris X Actress!Reader

English is not my first language, maybe I will do a part two 👀

"Why don't you want to be with me?" Lando says close to Y/n's ear so she can hear.

They were at a party, Lando was P1, and that night was all about him.

"Lando, why don't you enjoy your night?" She says pushing him a little and he kisses her cheek.

"I'm trying to do this, but the prettiest girl at the party is turning me down once again."

Y/n rolls her eyes but smiles, fixing Lando's hair with her hands.

"I already told you-"

"I know, I know, I'm younger than you, but you need to understand that 18-year-old Lando already dreamed of Y/n 22 and now 25-year-old Lando dreams of Y/n 29 and 85-year-old Lando will dream of Y/n... How old will you be?" He says, thinking a little.

"Fuck you're so drunk." She says laughing and he smiles when he sees her smile.

"Fuck you're so beautiful." Lando leans in to kiss her, but Y/n turns her face away.

"Lando, no." Y/n says, gently pinching Lando's belly, making him pull away with a grimace.

"Come on, give me a chance, just one kiss and I promise to stop bothering you." She thinks for a bit.

"I know you won't stop."

"Please, I promise I'll stop." He says, dropping the glass he was holding anywhere, and takes Y/n's face with both hands. "Can I?" He asks inches from her mouth.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" Lando crushes his lips to hers, and my God, it was so worth it to almost beg her on his knees.

Lando asks for passage with his tongue and when he gives in, he just wants to stay there forever.

The kiss gets hotter and Y/n pulls away a little to be able to breathe.

"What a delicious mouth." He says, pulling her lower lip with his teeth and giving her three little pecks.

"Have you gotten your kiss yet, satisfied?"

"I wanted your heart, but I'll hold back with a kiss."

"You don't give up, do you?" She says, putting her arms around her shoulders.

"Never, 18 year old Lando wouldn't believe the girl in my arms right now." Lando always speaks close to her ear so she can understand everything.

"Congratulations, P1." Y/n says kissing Lando's cheek and he feels that this kiss practically sobered him up again.

"Will I get a kiss like this every time I get P1?"

"Don't force it, Cat." She says, walking away and Lando takes her hand again.

"Nooo, you can't do this." Lando says whimpering.

"You promised Lando."

"I promised?" Lando says pulling her by the waist, and kissing her lips again, this time more slowly, more passionate, it was as if they weren't in a crowded place, and God, Y/n is praying that no one took any pictures of this.

But they took it away.

A few hours later the news was all over social media.

F1news Things are heating up! 👀 Lando Norris and Y/n are seen kissing at the party celebrating Lando's P1, some people who were on the way back confirmed that they spent practically the whole night close to each other, could a relationship be on the way?

—

User1 What the fuck is this?

User2 Wow, isn't she much older than him?

— User3 It's only four years girl 🙄

User4 Why is everyone so surprised?

— User5 Yes, Lando had already said that she has been his celebrity crush since he was 18.

User6 I think I'm jealous of Lando.

— user7 I think I'm jealous of both of them.

User8 Well, he never hid the fact that he was interested in her.

User9 Have you ever imagined the beautiful child that would be born?

— User 10 She's much older than him...

User 11 Damn, stop treating her like her age is wrong or something.

——

Y/n wakes up with her phone vibrating like crazy.

"Where the fuck is this?" She gropes blindly on the bed until she finds the device, reading the following messages:

Lando: Please don't be mad at me.

Lando: Are you mad at me? 😟

She sits on the bed, a little confused, why would she be mad at him? But soon she also sees some messages from Carlos.

Carlos: Please don't be mad at Lando.

Carlos: He swears he didn't want to cause a scandal for you.

Carlos: Yes, he forced me to send this, block this bastard now.

And to top it off, she sees a message from her best friend.

Bestf: Seriously Lando? And you still swore to me that you didn't want to get him 😏

She closes her eyes and lies down on the bed again, she already knows exactly what happened.

Fuck.

[nerdlvr]

not so little is it?

(MDNI)

younger jaemin x older reader , small age gap , jaemin is brothers best friend , ur brother is mark lee , big dick jaem , jaem is bigger than reader , size kink if you squint , kinda public sex (ur both in the kitchen & living room and mark is in his room) , harsh blowjob , cowgirl yeehaw , couch missionary , jaemin is cocky and mean , pet names like a lot , light mocking , degradation kinda , jaemin refers to himself and y/n in third person sometimes idk , jaemin knows how to use his dick damn... , requested here !

it  had been the fifth time that night that you had called jaemin baby. and not baby in a i wanna fuck you type of way, baby in a little boy type of way. If only you could go into his brain and see all the things jaemin would do to shut you up. maybe he’d stuff your mouth with his big, hard-

“babyy, are you listening? The popcorns ready!”

jaemin felt his eye twitch, a small fake smile directed at your pretty face. he shook his head softly, turning his head back to focus on the movie.

“dude you need to stop calling him that, we’re not even that much younger than you.”

jaemin could not agree more with your brother.

he was never one to hold grudges, it was childish, unlike him. but for some reason you had been more annoying than usual tonight, the high pitched ‘baby’ and the sweet toned ‘minnie’ only itching him in all the wrong places.

he turned to the clock in mark’s room, 2:00 AM, well shit. had he really laid here for 3 hours straight thinking about your annoying mouth? his eyes drifted down to his now tented boxers, well double shit. maybe thinking about your mouth right next to your sleeping brother wasn’t the best idea. he needed a walk.

.

the cool air from the fridge numbed his senses, his nipples perking up at the soft breeze.

ice cream, butter, cheese, ew. did mark have anything without milk? wait isn’t mark lactose intoler- “his fridge looks like something out of a horror film right?”jaemin felt the hair on his body rise as he jumped, the fridge shutting loudly behind him, a hand coming up to his chest, “jesus you scared me.”

you giggled as you poked his bare chest, "sorry didn't mean to scare you baby. was just coming out for a snack."

baby, did you like to test his patience? he pushed your hand away as he let out a loud huff, "don't call me that."

your soft giggle continued to ring in his ears, your hands now moving to pinch the fabric of his boxers, "call you what, bunny boy?"

his eyes drifted down to his boxers, small bunnies adorning the fabric. he grabbed your wandering hand, smirking as you let out a pained whine. "does your mouth do anything good besides spout nonsense?"

you ripped your hand away from his tightening grasp, your free hand coming up to massage the sensitive skin,"what's your problem jaemin? i'm being nice to you and you're acting like a brat!"

your eyes widened slightlyy as a scoff left his mouth, lips quirking up into a smirk, "nice? you're treating me like a fucking child y/n. i stopped being little years ago. maybe you've been too busy bitching to even notice!"

your heads turned quickly as you heard shuffling from mark's room, his sleepy groans muffled by the thick walls.

"whatever tough guy, i'm leaving, your attitude ruined my appetite."

his arms were quick to stop you, trapping you against the kitchen counter, "where do you think you're going? where's my apology?"

it was your turn to scoff, eyes rolling at his questions. "apology? grow up na jaemin, you're not getting an apology if i did nothing wrong." you pushed at his chest, muscles firm against your hands. when did he get so strong? you mumbled out a low move embarrassed by your lack of strength against him.

he chuckled, breath fanning against your face, "give it one more go baby, maybe this time you might get it."

you bit your lip, head turning to look anywhere besides his bare chest, "this isn't funny, move or i'll-"

"you'll do what y/n?" he licked his lips, smirking down at you.

damn you na jaemin, damn you and those strong muscles, damn you and those plump lips, damn you and this new attitude that is so so hot. you gulped loudly, looking away as you tried to sneakily squeeze your thighs together, heat building between you legs.

"something wrong?"he leaned in closer to you, lips just one breath away. you turned your head further away from him, edge of the counter pressing deep into your back.

"you think being immature is cute jaemin? get off of me!"

he pressed his forehead against the side of your head, breath fanning against your ear. "no-"

he lifted his leg slightly, using his his knee to gently press against your core. you bit your lip to stifle a moan, head lowering just enough to watch his knuckles turn white against the counter. "but you clearly do. been squeezing these pretty thighs together since i started raising my voice at you."

you kept quiet, eyes squeezing shut as his knee pressed further against your heat, "who's the baby now hm?" you ignored him, brain zoning into to light pressure being applied to your clit, only a light hum being your response.

"answer me when i'm talking to you." your eyes fluttered open as he gripped your chin, moving your face so you'd look at him, "m-me jaem."

he tilted his head, smirk growing wider, "what was that?"

you swallowed your pride. there's no way you're gonna miss this opportunity. "i-i'm the baby jaem." he could help but chuckle, leaning in to plant a wet kiss on your cheek, "good girl, you learn quick. now lets put that bratty little mouth to good use."

you sunk onto your knees like your body was possessed, hands coming up to tug at his boxers. his cock sprung free, slapping his toned stomach. he was big, tip flushed and leaking.

his hand was quicker than yours, grabbing onto the base of his length to slap it against your cheek."not so little huh? call me baby again little brat."

"b-bab-" he chuckled as your words came out gargled, his cock being shoved into your mouth to silence you, "you look better with your mouth full." your eyes squeezed shut as you focused on your breathing, jaw relaxing slightly.

he was heavy on your tongue, smooth skin rubbing against the sides of your mouth. you hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in further. "shit angel, mouth so good, keep doing that."

you bobbed your head against him, spit threatening to spill past your lips. the sight above you was heavenly, pink hair held up with his hands as his mouth hung open. he let out soft pants as he tried his best not to thrust into your mouth. "let me- fuck- let me do it."

his hands moved into your hair to hold your head steady, hips starting to pick up a rhythm. you batted your lashes up at him, soft moans spilling from your mouth as he pressed deeper into your mouth, "look so pretty like this- just wanna-"

you gagged loudly as he pushed the rest of his length into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. he held you there, your nose pressed against his pubic hair as you swallowed around him.

his groans went straight to your core, thighs squeezing impossibly tighter. he pulled you off in one swift motion, laughing as you gasped for air, eyes watery and lips swollen.

"look at you-" he slapped your face lightly, "acting so grown and can't even take my cock- get up and turn around."

but you remained on your knees, whimpering as you wiped at your mouth. you hadn't noticed you were crying until jaemin leaned down, warms hands rubbing your cheeks, "awe you crybaby, minnie's cock got you all worked up hm?"

you pushed his hands away struggling to get up, legs sore from the kitchen tiles. his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you against his chest, "still so stubborn, baby just needs some good dick fucked into her so she'll learn hm?"

he laughed at your weak yelp, his arms lifting you up as he walked towards to living room, "now you're gonna show me how much you need this dick."

he sat on the couch, placing you right on his lap, face to face with you. "go on put it in." your cute pouts did nothing to him as he moved his arms to rest them on the back of the couch, head nodding to urge you to continue.

you whined softly as you hovered your hips over him, hand coming down to push your panties and sleep shorts aside. your cheeks burned as you both looked towards your heat, wetness dripping onto his length. he threw his head back as he let out a soft groan, "fuck baby, what would mark think about me having his big sis dripping all over me hm? like the idea of getting fucked by me that much?"

you nodded quickly shame evaporating from your body as you began to rub his tip along your soaking cunt. he hissed under you, his hands gripping the couch cushions, "don't tease baby, wanna feel you."

you sunk down slightly, hollowly fucking yourself on his tip. your bottom lip was trapped between you teeth, body leaned back as you gripped onto jaemin's thighs. he couldn't help but groan at the sight of you, body covered up by your pjs but your pussy on full display.

he moved his hand to your tummy, fingers slipping under your shirt to pull the fabric over your tits, "fuck, you little minx, look at you dripping on my cock- shit, keep going."

you whined loudly, soft pants leaving your desperate lips as you sunk down on him, the stretch hot against your walls."c-can't jaem, too-"

his hand gripped you breast, rolling your sensitive nipples against his fingers. he pouted up at you, a slight tilt to his head, "can't what baby, hm? minnie's dick to big for my little princess?"

you huffed in embarrassment, cheeks burning red as you threw your head back to hide.

"that's okay angel-" his hands traveled down to your hips, a light chuckle leaving his lips as he lifted his hips to meet yours. the loud slap of your hips vibrated against the living room walls, a soft cry leaving your lips as you leaned forward, stuffing your face into jaemin's neck.

"it's okay-" his hips began to move, your slick making it easy for him to slide against your walls, "you can take it baby see? you're so good for me- fuck"

you whined against his neck, walls tightening around his length as he slapped his hips up. "jaem, jaem, please, oh my- feels so good baby, so deep."

he laughed at your small squeak as he suddenly picked you up, placing you in the corner of the couch, your back pressed against the soft cushion,

"i'm gonna need you to be quiet now okay princess? don't want mark to know how good i'm fucking his big sis hm?"

you nodded quickly, mouth hanging open as he slid back into you without warning, a small moan leaving his lips. "fuck jaem i can't- just please, want it so bad jaem, plea-" your hand flew to your mouth to muffle your loud moans, his hips moving to repeatedly slam into you, his length angled in just the right position.

"fuckkk yes bunny, look at you. pretty pussy sucking me in so good." his pace was relentless, one of your hands having to muffle your moans and the other gripping his arm for stability. you sunk into the couch, cushions bouncing under you from each thrust.

he leaned down close to you, body radiating heat against your chest, "want you to cum baby, i'm so close, so clo- fuck yeah baby just like that, so fucking tight shit."

you squeezed around him your stomach tightening as his words filled your ears. all you could think about was jaemin. his strong arms surrounding you, his warm body enveloping you, his soft moans urging you to cream on him and- oh. he hand flew down to your core, finger pressing gently on your clit, "come on angel, cum for me, wanna feel it, need it baby, please."

you squeezed your eyes shut, teeth clamping around your hand as you arched your hips up. the tight feeling in your stomach radiating throughout you, body shaking as you let go.

he stilled inside you, head pressed into your neck to muffle his own moans as he came inside you, whimpers of your name leaving his lips as he panted against you, "fuck, fuck, fuck, so good, so good for me bunny, you did so good."

he kissed around your neck, lips trailing up onto your lips. the kiss was sweet, soft touch of his lips making your body tingle. his grip was warm against you as he held your trembling body.

"shhh, it's okay, you're okay-" he kissed your cheeks, hands rubbing your sides, "minnie's here baby, i got you, everythings-"

you sunk deeper into the couch as you heard the fridge door slam shut, watching as jaemin's eyes landed on the kitchen entrance, "jaem?" mark's sleepy voice broke the silence, "what are you doing out here?"

jaemin stuttered slightly, pink cheeks still evident against the dim lighting,"i- i was just-" you heard mark take a loud sip of something, clearing his throat after, "if this is about my sister- she's, she's just annoying, all that baby stuff is just her being annoying. you know- sometimes i even kinda feel like she might like you or something."

jaemin bit his lip, only a loud mhm being his response as his now soft length slid out of you, "yeah so, don't let it get to you jaem, get to bed alright?"

jaemin nodded, saying a quick goodnight as mark left his sight. he looked down towards you, a scared look on your face, "so you're into younger guys, huh bunny?"

your giggles filled the small space as you rolled your eyes, hand gently slapping his chest. he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your lips, a wide grin on his face, "don't worry, i like bratty older women too."

[fastandcarlos]

What Baby Wants, Baby Gets : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: he might try and guilt you for making him go out in the early hours to satisfy your cravings, but you won't let him win

You couldn’t help but smile as Max groaned beside you, his arms stretching up before his hands ran over his face, head tilting to his left so that he could glance across and take a look at you. 

“Morning,” you whispered, resting your head down against his shoulder. “Did you have a good sleep?” You then asked, sniggering as Max scoffed, his head immediately shaking across at you. 

In the early hours you found yourself struggling, unable to push the thoughts of your cravings to the back of your mind. For a while Max managed to ignore it, but eventually he made the mistake of asking if you wanted something, only for you to tell him yes. 

It felt like a figure of speech when you first fell pregnant, with Max telling you to get him if you needed something, wherever, whenever. But he didn’t quite imagine himself actually being woken up at two in the morning with you begging him to help you out. 

“Last night was a one-time thing,” Max told you, covering his mouth as he let go of a yawn. “Do you know how long it took for me to fall back to sleep? Especially with you snoring right beside me.” 

An apology came from you, but so did a chuckle as Max glared down at you. As soon as your craving what satisfied, you found yourself easily able to fall asleep, not worrying about Max and the fact that he was now the restless one tucked up beside you. 

Although he teased, he was relieved to see you resting though, knowing just how little sleep you were getting with your baby constantly reminding you that he was there. 

“I do appreciate what you did last night,” you whispered, brushing your hand gently through Max’s hair. “You didn’t have to get up and run to the store.” 

“I did, because I promised that I would always do whatever I could to help you,” Max reminded you, kissing against the top of your head, “and what baby wants, baby gets.” 

Your head nodded as Max trailed one of his hands down to rest against the top of your baby bump, his smile wide as he felt just how big it was again, knowing that you were already nearing the halfway mark. 

“I know for a fact that this little one appreciates what you do too, they were feeling particularly peckish last night,” you added, pressing a kiss to Max’s shoulder. 

His eyes rolled as once again you used the baby to get to him, knowing that if there was one person that he couldn’t say no to, it was definitely your baby. 

“I can’t wait for when the baby arrives so I can tell you to go and get your own food again,” Max joked, “you won’t be able to treat me like your slave anymore.” 

“You’re so dramatic, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy all of this.” 

It wasn’t exactly his favourite thing to do getting up in the early hours of the morning, but knowing that he was helping you out did fill Max with pride. 

“Maybe I’d enjoy it more if you asked at a decent time,” he laughed in response. 

“I don’t think I get much of a choice, if you’ve got a problem, bring it up with your child instead,” you smiled, tapping against your baby bump. 

Max’s eyes watched over you carefully as you moved closer into his side, moving one of your hands to rest against the small of your back. A groan came from you as you tried to get comfortable again, a game that you had been playing with your child for several weeks now. 

“Do you think the baby knows the most inconvenient times are to be annoying to us?” You asked Max, hearing a chuckle come from him. “Why can’t they be restless at lunch? That would be perfect.” 

“I don’t think they’re smart enough to tell the time yet,” Max sniggered, squeezing around your frame. “It’s going to get easier, hopefully the cravings will stop soon.” 

Your head nodded as Max tried his best to reassure you. Whenever you were struggling, he was right there with you, somehow Max always knew the right thing to say to make you feel better, making sure to hold onto you too to let you know that he was there. 

“It’s going to be alright,” Max whispered closely to your ear, “whatever comes our way then we’re just going to take it on together and find a way to figure things out.” 

You hummed as Max spoke, a lot more doubtful than he was. If he could, Max would read just about every baby book, watch every documentary, absorb as much knowledge as he possibly could to make sure he knew exactly what to do in every possible situation. 

“If it’s not morning sickness it’s cravings, and then once that finishes then it’s going to be the lack of sleep, soon enough I’m not even going to be able to see my feet.” 

Before you could continue, Max quickly shushed you. “And I’ll be there to help you with all of that, no matter where we are or when it is.” 

“I thought you didn’t like the early hours?” 

Max jabbed against your side as you teased him, knowing that regardless of the time he would always be there. It hurt him a lot seeing you so uncomfortable so often, he wished that there was more that he could do to make your life easier than it currently was. 

“If I were you, I’d make the most of me running around after you,” Max grinned, “because once the baby is here, they’ll be the only person I’ll be waking up at three o’clock in the morning for.” 

“You mean to say you’d leave me to fend for myself?” 

“Absolutely,” Max jokingly smiled, “you’re capable of getting up and sorting yourself out, a little baby isn’t quite as developed as you are.” 

“I’m spending nine months growing this child of yours, just in case you’ve forgotten that,” you quickly reminded him. 

“I know, I’m just messing with you,” Max assured, squeezing your frame. “I might have to cut myself in half so one part of me can look after you and the other look after the baby, that way I might just be able to be in two places at once.” 

“I’ll be alright,” you whispered, only for Max’s head to shake, refusing to let you take care of yourself straight away once the baby arrived. 

It didn’t matter whether you were pregnant or not, injured or in peak condition, Max loved looking after you and would always do so, regardless of how much you sometimes protested against him. 

Now more than ever he was glued to your side, he’d tease you and mess with you but he wouldn’t have it any other way, being able to help you was one of the things he enjoyed the most at the moment. 

“I can’t wait to see how things play out over the next few months, how big of a change is about to take place in our lives,” Max mused, resting his head on top of yours. 

“I’m terrified,” you admitted, “no one can predict how this is going to play out, there’s a fear of the unknown lingering in the back of my mind right now.” 

“You don’t need to worry,” Max assured you, “no matter what happens, we’re going to face it together, I’m going to be right here with you.” 

“Even in the early hours of the morning?” 

“Even in the early hours my love.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[yuujispinkhair]

its time for single dad!kuna and his albino kiddo, uraume x elementary teacher!y/n

OMGGG THAT SOUNDS SO COMFORTING AND SWEET 💗😭 Okay I had to write this! I hope you like it!

Single Dad!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. 800 words. Divider @/chilumitos

When you start your job at the new school, everyone warns you about a certain pink-haired, tattooed dad.

"Oh you have Uraume in your class? Well, good luck then."

"Why?"

"Oh, it's not the child that is the problem. It's the dad!"

Your coworkers tell you about this huge, grumpy man who always barks out orders and complains left and right the whole time because he thinks his child isn't getting treated correctly.

When you first meet Sukuna, you really are intimidated by him. He is tall and muscular, almost filling out the whole doorway and towering over you. A very attractive man, but scary with those tattoos that tell you he must lead a life in crime or at least must have been involved in something like that at some point. He sneers at you while his eyes sparkle threateningly,

"A new teacher, huh? I sure hope you will do a better job than the ones before you. I won't accept any carelessness when it comes to looking after my child!"

Sukuna's voice is harsh, and his gaze is full of anger. But you listen patiently to him and realize that this is just a man who is worried about his child. A child who doesn't really have any friends and is sick all the time and gets bullied for it.

You can understand Sukuna. Can understand the helpless anger you see in those maroon eyes. Like a tiger who is ready to kill for his cub but doesn't know how to handle the everyday tragedy of his child being an outcast in school.

You smile warmly at him and tell him in a soft voice,

"I understand that, Mr Itadori. You are worried about Uraume. I promise you that I will have a close eye on them. I won't look away when someone bullies them. Uraume is a lovely child and amazing the way they are. I will do my best to guide them on their way to becoming a confident and happy person. Thank you for coming to me with your worries."

And you see this big, bad, angry man falter and blink at you in confusion because, apparently, none of the other teachers ever reacted the way you did. But he catches himself after a moment and tells you he will watch you closely before he leaves without a farewell.

You keep your word and look after Uraume, praising the child for the exercises they excel in and sitting the whole class down to discuss with them that it's not okay to make fun of others for the way they look, etc. Teaching them that everyone is different and that this is okay. You even assign group projects, where you pair Uraume up with some kids who you know are sweet and won't be cruel to them.

Three weeks later, you walk out of the school in the afternoon when all the kids have already left, jumping when a low voice speaks up next to you. Sukuna is leaning against the wall of the building, smirking at you, maroon eyes wandering curiously over you,

"I came to thank you, Miss. Uraume told me about how much fun they are having at school now and that they even found two little friends. They told me you are the best teacher in the world."

You break out into a big smile, eyes filled with happiness,

"I am so happy to hear that! Uraume is doing so well! I am so proud of them and so happy that they enjoy coming to school now!"

And Sukuna pushes himself off the wall, taking a step closer to you. So tall and broad, but he doesn't seem all that intimidating anymore. There's a little smile tugging at his lips, and his intelligent eyes are warm when he tells you in a low, velvety voice,

"All the other teachers ignored my complaints or refused to talk to me anymore and sent me to the principal, who was just as incompetent. You are the first one who took my words into account and let actions follow. I thought this school was a hellhole, but you changed my mind."

You chuckle softly, feeling a bit flustered at the intense gaze out of those beautiful maroon eyes and the praise coming from this attractive man.

"Thank you, Mr Itadori. I am glad."

"Sukuna."

"Hm?"

"Call me Sukuna, please. It will sound nicer if you call me by my first name while we have coffee together."

And with that, his grin grows broader, and he jerks his tattooed chin toward the little café down the road, making your heart flutter excitedly as you smile back at him and nod softly,

"Yes, that sounds really nice, Sukuna."

[emmyrosee]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a modern!au sukuna x fem!reader in which they're dating and they're babysitting little yuji for the day, going to the park, grocery store, or whatever, and some old lady thinks yuji is their son and sukuna and reader had yuji as teens so she starts judging, making comments and kinda insulting them for having a kid so young. (but yuji is just sukuna's little brother)

I hope what I said made sens 😅 and feel totally free to ignore my request if you don't want to do it or if you're not taking requests at the moment :)

tw// mean old ladies, insinuations of s3x in teenage years, sukuna talking back, lots of swearing, mentions of death, I wouldn’t normally put warnings but juuuuuuuuuust in case

There’s a scoff that rings out in the air as the last of your footstep passes her. It’s enough to make Sukuna stop on impact. You turn to him, and Yuuji in his stroller looks up to see what the stop is, but Sukuna’s eyes are firm in annoyance, the vein in his forehead pulsing.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, spinning on his heel. “Is there a problem, maam?” His voice dribbles sarcasm, and you feel your heart rate pick up from anxiety.

When you turn to face the old woman, her face is twisted in judgement, wrinkles furrowed deeper than natural as she glares past Sukuna and burrows her sights onto you. A chill shrills down your spine as her cold gaze fixes on you.

“Babies having babies,” she snarls cruelly, and you see Sukuna’s knuckles lighten from the force of gripping the handles. “You couldn’t keep it in your pants, and you couldn’t close your legs, hmm? Reproducing when you shouldn’t be. You ought to be embarrassed.”

You cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but when you look up at sukuna again, his grin is curled devilishly. You sigh, “sukuna, come on-“

“No,” he hisses. “I want to hear what the crypt keeper’s gotta say. One foot in the grave, one on a fucking oil spill and you’re wasting your breath spilling bullshit? You oughta be embarrassed.”

She clutches her chest in offense, “I can’t stand you youths these days, wasting your life on each other, disappointing your parents. Why they’d ever approve of you keeping that sin in the carriage is ridiculous.”

You’re quick to grab Sukuna’s collar and keep him from launching at the lady. He’s not happy about being stopped, he’s practically frothing at the mouth in rage, but at your grip, he stands down.

His mouth however, does not.

“I’m offended people like you even get to breathe my air,” he snarls, and you try to ignore the look the old lady gives you- she looks almost prideful to be getting such a reaction. “That child is not sin, that’s my fucking little brother- and even if it was, if you looked at him and the first thing you thought of was my girlfriend and I smashing, you need to tell your fucking hospice nurse, you pervert.”

“Sukuna-“

“It’s not my fault nor concern that your husband died from an asthma attack your dusty old pussy gave him, but if you ask me, he dodged a fucking bullet because holy fuck if I had to spend my days waiting for you to die first, I’d pull the plug myself.”

“Sukuna!”

“You think you get to sit here and judge my girlfriend, my self, my fucking brother without consequence, you are sadly mistaken. And I sincerely hope that, with the bottom of my soul, that when your decrepit heart finally decides to stop and bless the world by taking your life, no one bats an eye. If this is how you treat strangers with a child, I would love to see how you treat your loved ones. Sit on it and fucking twist, you old bitch.” Then, he flashes her a smile, “have the day you fucking deserve, you twat.”

The woman stares at him, eyes wide and jaw agape. You also, stare at him with wide eyes and an agape jaw, and it isn’t until he wraps his arm around your waist and starts to push the carriage again, that you follow.

“Sukuna,” you say, voice shaky. “Why…?”

“Because no one gets to look at my fucking family in any way other than damn respect,” he growls, fingers digging into your hip from anger. “No one.”

“No, I mean…” you swallow thickly. “Why do people feel the need to be so cruel?”

“The world is cruel,” he says flatly. Then, he sighs and shakes his head, “but I have no issue in putting terrible people in their place. Especially for yuuji. Especially for you.”

You smile softly and lay your hand on his, lacing your fingers with his as they rest on your hip, “we’re lucky to have you then, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, “it’s about time you appreciate it.”

[bweeeb]

PUPPY EYES

Synopsis: When Pedro doesn't take you to the awards ceremony for his new movie, your relationship starts to go downhill with the thought that maybe you're too young to give him everything he needs.

Warnings: nothing major, angst, couple with problems, Pedro and you are 26 years apart.

Career, projects, new movies, memories, and that topic that always left you unsure—was it negative or positive anticipation when people brought up relationships?

It wasn’t news to anyone that five months ago, when you and Pedro made it official that you’d been secretly seeing each other for a year, people started digging into every little detail. And a few months ago, the age difference between you two didn’t bother anyone in your social circle. Both of you were adults who knew exactly what you were doing with your lives.

Even your parents, who had initially been surprised by the man 26 years older than you, eventually came to accept your choice. So it shouldn’t bother you or anyone else anymore.

"So, I don’t think you’ve ever openly talked about your relationship with Pedro Pascal after making it official. Is it okay if we discuss it?"

The podcast host smiled at you, and you let out an embarrassed laugh, shrugging.

"Why not?"

"How did you two meet?"

"We worked on the same movie, so we were constantly together on set. One thing led to another."

"And you never thought, like, ‘Wow, he’s way too old for me,’ since there’s a significant age gap?"

"Twenty-six years, isn’t it?" Another host interrupted.

"Didn’t he say in an interview that he wouldn’t date anyone with more than a 20-year age difference? Doesn’t that make you curious about what changed?"

"Well, when we met, I didn’t think much about it, and I don’t think he did either. Yes, he mentioned that he wouldn’t date someone with a 20-year age gap. But I’ve always had a thing for DILFs, and he’s definitely one. One thing led to another, without either of us realizing it."

Your cheeks flushed as you spoke honestly, your eyes briefly catching your publicist’s approving thumbs-up from behind the glass.

"I think it’s much more about connection than anything tangible, you know? Our age difference is almost unnoticeable in our day-to-day life now."

"Pedro is, what, around 50 years old? Let’s not pretend it’s entirely unnoticeable." One of them chuckled, and you narrowed your eyes, frustrated at how your words were twisted.

"You’re young, clearly with the body of a 23-year-old, while he’s middle-aged. I think people are just curious about what made you stay." The other one chimed in, leaning toward the mic. You smiled politely, glancing between the camera and the hosts.

"Maybe the real question is what makes him stay. He had a firm opinion, and suddenly, it changed. Pedro has the purest and most beautiful soul in the world. He laughs at his own dad jokes, he shows me things I’d never imagined because he’s from 1975, and he’s a man with a capital M who treats me like the last rose petal in the universe. So, honestly, if he ever agrees to do an interview with you, maybe you should ask him what makes him stay.

"After the podcast aired, what you thought would be a calm discussion turned into a social media battleground. People twisted your words and intentions.

"A man taking care of a child—what nonsense."

"Really, ask him why he stays because she’s unbearable."

"Did she call his jokes ‘dad jokes’? Who does that to their boyfriend? RUN, PEDRO!"

"She’s just after his money."

"The most boring woman in the world is with the hottest man alive. How does that even happen?"

"She has nothing to offer him. Relax, ladies, it won’t last three more months."

"Dakota Johnson seemed interested in him; I wouldn’t be surprised if he ditches this corn husk for her."

"If I knew he was into younger women, I’d have listed a hundred better options than Y/N."

"Wait, guys—he didn’t even take her to the Gladiator premiere. How serious do you think this is?"

It was exhausting. Even though you avoided reading the comments, they popped up everywhere, and all the therapy you’d done to maintain a stable mental health seemed to be slipping through your fingers. But Pedro couldn’t know, so you plastered on a sweet smile whenever you saw him, even as doubts began to creep in.

Maybe you really were the worst option for him. Maybe someone older, with similar experiences, would be better. Someone more mature, less bubbly and silly.Sitting in the car, you stared blankly out the window as Pedro talked about the Gladiator premiere—the one you hadn’t attended because you weren’t invited.

"Hey, are you okay?" It wasn’t that you weren’t listening. You just didn’t have much to say, so you let him keep talking.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Go on."

Your smile didn’t falter, and you silently thanked yourself for being a good actress.

"No, you’re not fine. What’s wrong?"

"Of course I am. It must’ve been surreal, babe. Even Dakota Johnson was there, right?"

"Yeah, but what’s wrong with you?" His eyes left the road momentarily to glance at you. You shook your head.

"Nothing. You’re just imagining things." You leaned over, cupped his face in your hands, and pressed a kiss to his lips before pulling away.

"Eyes on the road, old man."

"Okay, but I thought I was your daddy."

He exaggeratedly rolled his eyes as if offended. You loved that about him—the way he was so expressive and dramatic, some might call it embarrassing, but you found it endlessly entertaining.

"You know when you’re my daddy," you said with a mischievous smile, swallowing the rising bitterness in your throat. That night was the last time you slept at his place. Over the following days, you insisted on being dropped off at home, and Pedro didn’t argue. He simply observed your strange behavior.

At first, he thought you might be pregnant and unsure about what to do. But then he remembered you weren’t the type to hide something like that. He considered that maybe you were overwhelmed with your new projects, but you usually loved talking about them. And then, his thoughts landed on your relationship. Had he done something wrong? He couldn’t pinpoint anything.

Five days later, the two of you were at a dinner with friends. Everything was going well until it wasn’t.

"Hey, Y/N, why didn’t I see you at the premiere? I thought I’d catch a glimpse of you in a glorious dress," Lux, Pedro’s sister, asked.

Your cheeks burned, and your heart raced with nervous discomfort. Were you supposed to admit you hadn’t been invited? No. Your mom had taught you better than that.

"I…" A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you shifted uncomfortably in your chair. You didn’t dare look at Pedro beside you, though you could feel his guilty puppy-dog eyes on you. You wouldn’t give in.

"I had some things tied up with the script for the movie. It was a hectic week."

In reality, the script had been finalized, and even if the writer had faced complications, you’d have found time to support your boyfriend and contribute new ideas to the director.

"Ah, really? What a shame. I hope everything’s okay now," Lux said.

"Oh, it’s all sorted," you replied, forcing a smile.Your smile faltered briefly when Pedro’s hand tried to find yours under the table. Clearing your throat, you stood up, announcing that you needed to use the restroom.When you returned, Pedro was chatting with one of his friends, and you were grateful he was too preoccupied to bring up the earlier conversation.

"Wow, did you do something with your hair? It looks blonder, or is it just me?" Hazel, one of Pedro’s friends’ girlfriends, asked politely.

"Yeah, I did. Amelia’s amazing," you replied.

"Oh my gosh, give me her number, please. I need something this stunning."

"Of course, I’ll even book you an appointment if you want."

"It’s impressive how an older man managed to snag someone as beautiful and sweet as you," Lux teased. Normally, you would’ve laughed it off, but everything felt different that night. You chuckled falsely, smiling as you’d been doing all week.

"Oh, come on, stop that," Pedro said, sounding uneasy. He could sense your odd mood.Of course, you were acting strange.

Everything had been strange lately.

Later, in the car, your gaze rested on your hands in your lap while you felt Pedro’s eyes boring into the side of your face.

"Honey—"

"If we could not talk about this now, I’d be much happier. Can you just take me home?"

"You know I want to—"

"Pedro."You turned to him, tired of pretending. Your voice was tense, and he immediately understood how serious it was. You never called him by his name. "Stop." Your tone wasn’t angry or annoyed, just lifeless. That terrified him. Women didn’t usually scare him. At nearly 50 years old, he thought he’d learned to handle these situations.

"I’m sorry, okay."

His gaze returned to the road, while you looked out the window, waiting to get home.

As you were arriving, you realized he wasn't taking you to your house but to his instead. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh and covered your face with both hands.

"What are you doing?" The words came out muffled as you felt him slow down.

"Going home."

"This is the way to your house."

"My house is your house, darling."

"You know what I mean," you whispered, exhausted.

"I thought you didn’t want to go. That it would be too much pressure for you, that... that you wouldn’t want people talking."

You heard him lament, and biting your lip, you sniffled. You tried hard not to act childish in the situation, looking up and taking a deep breath, reminding yourself not to let the tears fall.

"I know," was all you managed to reply before your voice broke.

"I... I just need to think for a bit."

"Think... right. Think about what?"

"Can you please take me home?" Pedro nodded at that and drove to your building. For the first time, he felt a strange haze between the two of you.

"Thank you." Even in the awkwardness, there you were, sweet as ever. Pedro could never deny how much he appreciated that about you—the way you always thanked everyone for everything. You were so pure. "Anytime." You opened the car door and stepped out, but before you entered the building, Pedro got out and called after you.

"I'm sorry. And I love you." That’s what he said before you turned to look at him with sad eyes—the same expression you wore when you thought he had forgotten to pick you up for a date, only to find out he was planning a surprise trip to Chile.That night, Pedro went home with his tail between his legs. When Lux called him in the morning, he couldn’t have felt worse.

"You look like one of the infected from The Last of Us. Gross."Lux teased as Pedro rubbed his face with his left hand."What do you want?"

"Wow. Rude."

"Sorry, I didn’t sleep. Just tell me why you’re calling me at six in the morning."

"I was thinking about how you said Y/N was acting strange, and I agree. Last night, she was quieter than usual. Pero luego empecé a preguntarme: ¿la invitaste al estreno? Porque se puso muy rara después de que lo mencioné y estaba revisando los comentarios..." ( But then I started wondering—did you invite her to the premiere? Because she got all weird after I brought it up, and I was checking the comments...)

"Ya te dije que no revises los comentarios. La gente está loca". (I already told you not to check the comments. People are insane.)

Pedro rolled his eyes, sighed, and collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. You and Pedro had talked about ignoring online negativity countless times. Neither of you usually cared about it. You weren’t starting now, were you?

"Lo sé, lo sé, pero se están portando fatal con ella. Y al no invitarla, la gente pensó que la estaban dejando de lado". ( I know, I know, but they’re being awful to her. And not inviting her made people think you were sidelining her.)

Lux sounded worried, almost angry.

"Eso es ridículo. Yo nunca haría algo así. Ella lo sabe. "(That’s ridiculous. I’d never do that—she knows that.)

"La compararon con Dakota Johnson. No es justo, son completamente diferentes. Dijeron que te cansarías de la 'niña'. Sabemos que es más madura que la mayoría de las mujeres, pero aún es joven". ( They compared her to Dakota Johnson. It’s not even fair—they’re completely different. They said you’ll get tired of the ‘kid.’ We know she’s more mature than most women, but she’s still young. )

Pedro propped his elbows on his knees and sighed. You had never acted immaturely. You never made rash decisions or threw tantrums over small things. You never picked fights or complained about work or friends. People didn’t know anything about your relationship—how could they?

"¿Crees que está preocupada? "(Do you think she’s worried)

"La mujer está intentando mantener la compostura y alejarse antes de que la abandones, como todos han estado diciendo". (The woman’s trying to hold herself together and pulling away before you ditch her like everyone’s been saying.)

Lux sighed and continued,

"Deberías haber escuchado cómo habló de ti en ese podcast. Nadie más sería así, no como ella. Haz algo. ( You should’ve heard how she talked about you on that podcast. No one else would be like that—not like her. Do something. )

Fuck. Pedro thought. He’d be stuck working all day, knowing you were likely asleep now. As the day went on, you ignored his missed calls. Not as an act of immaturity but because you needed personal space. You planned to talk to him eventually, but your phone felt like a weight you couldn’t bear. Instead, you threw yourself into work, ensuring every detail was perfect.Later, your group decided to go out for dinner, and you joined to keep your mind occupied. You loved them all but remained mostly a listener. Exhausted from a sleepless night, you struggled to follow the conversation, though you smiled at their stories.After dinner, you excused yourself to the restroom. As you washed your hands, you overheard two women talking in mocking tones.

"Do you think it’s a PR stunt?"

You frowned, listening as the other responded,

"It must be. I mean, it’s all over the news, and she’s playing the sad little girl role."

"Yeah, right? He used to call someone 25 a kid, and now he’s with a 23-year-old? Ridiculous."

"Did you see the photo of him with Dakota at the bar?"

"What? When?"

"Today, about an hour ago. She was kissing his cheek, and even if it’s for the movie, I doubt it. They weren’t even working."

"Think he’ll trade her in?"

"She won’t last ten days."

You grabbed your phone and opened Twitter. The first thing you saw was the photo of him and Dakota. He had that drunken smile on his face as she wrapped her arms around his neck. You weren’t the jealous type, fully aware of how PR worked in Hollywood, but it still stung.You washed your hands, turned to face them, and said,

"At least I’m more than a nameless extra without a single line. The only roles your venomous tongues will land you are in adult films, and not the Pearl kind—cheap, disgusting ones. Have a good night.

"With that, you left, hailed a cab, and went home. Fighting back tears, you repeated to yourself, Don’t cry. It’s just a picture. You ignored him all day, so stop acting like this.But for the first time, you cried over something like this.

Your head ached, and with the tip of your nose red, you picked up the phone and called him—without thinking too much, without wrestling with your thoughts. You just did what you felt needed to be done.The first call went straight to voicemail, and even though the thought of not wanting to humiliate yourself for him crossed your mind, you ignored it, knowing you were the one who had lost ground first. On the second call, your phone was answered, and the muffled sound made you swallow hard—he was out of the house.

“Hey.”

Your voice came out low, and you heard some murmurs on the other side, blending with loud conversation.

“Hello?”

A woman’s voice called from the other side, and you grimaced. “Uh, hi. Is Pedro there?”

“Uh, he’s kind of busy right now,” she said.

“Busy…” you repeated softly. “Who are you?”

“Carly.”

Carly? Who the hell is Carly? you thought immediately.

“Then tell him I called, Carly.”

“And you are…?” The mocking tone in her voice irritated you, and your expression was far from pleasant.

“A friend. Tell him a friend called.”

“Great.” She hung up without saying anything else, and you wrapped yourself in your own cocoon of blankets that didn’t warm you like Pedro did.Suits was playing on TV while you avoided going to bed, eventually falling asleep without even realizing it. Around 3 a.m., frantic knocks on your door startled you awake, making you look warily down the hallway. The doormen usually informed you of anyone coming to your floor.

Cautiously, you peeked through the peephole and saw him there, rubbing his face with his two hands, five times bigger than yours. You stopped, stepped back from the door, and sighed before opening it. Once you unlocked the door’s security latch, you looked at him and almost closed it again upon seeing your reflection, still wearing his shirt.

“It’s late. What are you doing here?” Your voice came out softly, and you saw Pedro stammer as he raised his hand in a nervous tic.

“A friend?”

“What?”

“Why did you say you were just a friend, sweetheart?” Pedro asked, stepping forward. You didn’t step back, only shrugged and gave a disheartened smile

.“She said you were busy. I thought it would be more… convenient than saying something else.”

“You’re something else. You’re my girlfriend. And my fiancée. And my wife. And I don’t care if you want to be the mother of my kids when I’m a hundred years old.”

He’s so drunk, you thought.

“How much tequila did you drink, Pedro?”

“The whole bottle.” He laughed, moving closer and gently touching your face. He’d always been gentle; being drunk didn’t change that.

“Please don’t tell me you’re breaking up with me.”

“I won’t say anything to you while you reek of cheap booze and cheap women.” You closed the door behind him and stepped away, heading to the hallway and your closet to grab a towel and clean clothes for him.

“Take a shower. If you sober up, we’ll talk.”

Pedro knew what you were thinking—that he’d gotten mad, drunk with his friends, and gone out with women named Carly. But he hadn’t done anything other than stare at the karaoke machine, hating every second he wasn’t there to mock what he was hearing.

“Everything’s cheap,” he laughed, following you.

“You know what isn’t cheap, Pedro? My patience. I haven’t slept well in over a week, and now it’s almost four in the morning, which means it’s been twenty minutes since you showed up at my door, and I don’t know why the hell you’re not naked yet.”

Your words left your mouth, and Pedro smiled at you.

“One day without you, and I forget how hot you are when you’re bossy and sleepy,” he slurred, making you laugh softly as you turned on the shower and pushed him into the bathroom.

“Don’t fall in there, please.”

Fifteen minutes after you pushed him inside, your eyes were heavy, and the strange way your body associated his presence with a different kind of rest annoyed you. Without realizing it, you fell asleep on the couch, wrapped in your blanket. It was as if your body said":

— Oh, it’s okay; Pedro’s home, so we’re safe,— but was your heart safe?When he saw you asleep there, the tequila had only left him dizzy—nothing a cold shower couldn’t fix. He approached and carried you to your room without thinking twice, whispering as he looked at your face:

“I’m so sorry, my preatty little thing.”

He laid you on the bed, and as he was about to leave, he heard you murmur:

“Stay. Please.”

Without hesitation, he lay beside you, pulling you against his chest and wrapping you both in a cocoon where it was just the two of you.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I’m not the right person for you?” you murmured, burying your head in his neck and feeling his hands trail up your back.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I’m not the right person for you, sweetheart?” he emphasized, and you sighed.

“I’m scared of losing you when you realize I’m too young, too naïve, and haven’t even experienced half of what you have.”

“I don’t even know why you’re thinking that. I’m the one who’s old. You’re perfect, intelligent, hot, and extremely talented—a young woman who fell into the arms of an old man like me.”

“Yeah, but I think maybe one day you’ll want someone your own age, someone like Sarah or any of your exes. I think it’s okay if you get bored of me, start feeling ashamed, and—”

“Stop. Stop that.” Pedro cupped your face, pulling it from his neck and making you look into his eyes. Your hands rested on his chest as you stared at him, and with a disheartened smile, Pedro caressed your face, clearly upset. When had your relationship reached such a fragile state?

“I didn’t take you to the premiere because the press is cruel. They’d talk about you, probably reinforce the rumors, and talk about me—call me a disgusting creep. I was going to take you, but all of our advisors told me not to risk exposing you in a bad light. I… I would never feel ashamed of you, for God’s sake. Look at you. A woman of any age wouldn’t hold a candle to you in a million years.”

Sniffling, you climbed onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Pedro sat on the bed, hugging you back, his hand resting gently on your waist.

“You don’t need to worry about anything. Whatever was written about you was a lie. God, I don’t think I even know how to live without you by my side anymore.”

You laughed, and a smile appeared on his lips.

“You don’t need to worry either. Other men lost their appeal the moment you wanted me.”

“That’s good, sweetheart.”

His hand traveled to the back of your neck, his large fingers running through your hair.

“And who was Carly?”

“A friend of the group.”

" And why did she have your cell phone?"

" It stayed on the table because I focused on looking at it for five to five minutes waiting for you to send me a message. "

“And the photo?”

He knew what you were referring to, and when he took it, he hadn’t expected it to reach you before you two made up—if you made up.

“It was to promote the movie, sweetheart. Dakota’s engaged.”

He brushed your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Hmm, alright.” You looked at him, tracing your fingers from his hair to his beard until they stopped at his mustache.

“Stop looking at me with those puppy-dog eyes. It makes you irresistible.”

“Like this?”

He did it again, and you laughed, kissing his lips immediately after.

“Mm-hmm, like that.”

You murmured against his lips as he smiled at you, and you whispered,

“I love you.”

“I love you more, sweetheart. Just you.”

Pedro pulled you close, laying you back against the soft mattress, kissing you as if it were the last moment of your lives. At least, that’s what both of you hoped.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

I apologize if there are any mistakes in this writing. I didn't proofread it with the best eyes.

Requests are open

[ahqkas]

♯BOY TROUBLE ( how would the batboys react to you mentally adopting damian wayne ! )

— gn!reader, established relationship ( dick & tim — separated ) , fluff, not edited, based on this req.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

it all started the moment you met the youngest wayne. a misunderstood boy who just needed to be a kid for once in his life? yeah, he’s in your care now

whenever damian has competitions — be it fencing matches, art exhibitions, or even a spelling bee he had unwillingly agreed to participate in under the pressure of his annoying teacher — you’re the first to make sure his support system is solid. you firmly believe no child should perform without someone rooting for them and you are all for the opinion

you’d clear your schedule to make the time for the boy, no matter how busy things got, and even often dragging your boyfriend, dick, along with you, even if he was juggling nightwing duties in between

“you will take off for this. your little brother deserves to see you in the audience.”

your enthusiasm is literally unmatched. damian rolls his eyes and grumbles, “tch, stop embarrassing me,” but secretly, he glances at you during breaks and feels a strange warmth knowing someone is so invested in his hobbies / competitions and not just his skills / training :(

when the competition ended in a win ( “that’s my champion up there! gold medalist, damian wayne!” ) , you were celebrating with him like it’s the olympics, insisting he picked the restaurant for dinner as a treat

for the rest of that night, the three of you indulged in the finest fast food gotham had to offer with you and dick gloating over damian while the boy quietly basked in your praise. though he’d never admit it, the celebration made the medal feel just a little more special

when damian gets in trouble at school — whether it’s a “misunderstanding” as they call it or him actually calling a classmate an “insufferable peasant” — you refuse to believe your sweet boy could ever be at fault

you’d march straight to the principal’s office with dick in tow ( he was kinda forced to come with you ), arms crossed, ready to advocate and defend the boy’s side. “let me get this straight. you’re accusing damian of initiating this? he doesn’t need to; his vocabulary alone could bring your students to tears.”

dick has to hold you back with how expressive your language becomes, and damian just stands there and watches you with a mix of amusement and silent admiration, although he would never admit the latter

damian often snaps at his brothers or throws a sarcastic jab that cuts too deep with his tongue that’s as sharp as his katana. and of course you’re quick to defend him

the second jason storms off muttering about how “the demon spawn needs a leash” or tim fires an insult of his own, you’re already positioning yourself between the brothers ( while taking the youngest’s side )

even dick gets the full treatment of facing your wrath. if he ever reprimands the boy too harshly, you gently interrupt, pulling damian aside later to reassure him. “your brothers don’t always get you, but i do. they’ll catch up eventually.”

you’re not above spoiling him in subtle ways, especially knowing that your boyfriend & his brother never had someone like this when he was damian’s age ( he kinda had bruce, but the older man was too busy with his own problems sooo )

you sneak art supplies and books into his room because you know about his interest toward art and animals. “oh, these? they were on sale. don’t think too hard about it,” you say, but the price tags tell a different story ( it was dick’s debit card so who really cares — more like bruce’s but oh well !! )

you’re also constantly pushing dick to spend quality time with his younger brother. “go take him to the arcade or something. he needs these memories with you.”

speaking of art, you keep every piece of artwork damian makes — no matter how small or nessy— like it’s a rare portrait. most of those pieces end up on the fridge in the apartment you share with dick, attached with mismatched magnets you buy in every new country you visit

the first time he noticed, it was a simple pencil sketch of titus he’d left on the counter when he visited ( ran away from gotham ). he’d been practicing shading and hadn’t even meant for anyone to see it. when he walked into the kitchen and spotted it on the fridge one day, neatly pinned beneath a sunflower magnet, he froze. “what is that doing there?” his voice was sharp but his cheeks tinged pink

“it’s your drawing.”

yes, he can clearly see that

“it’s just a sketch.”

“maybe to you,” you said, finally meeting his gaze with a soft smile, “but i think it’s perfect.”

he didn’t respond, just muttered something under his breath and walked away, but the next time you looked at him, you caught him stealing a glance at the fridge with a subtle, almost imperceptible smile

in your eyes, damian might be the fiercest, sharpest little warrior in the world, but he’s still a kid who needs love, support, and the freedom to grow. and you’re determined to give him everything he deserves

. . . TIM DRAKE !

it was the same as dick’s, damian wayne had you wrapped around his little finger the moment your eyes landed on him.

whenever the boy has a competition — whether it’s an art showcase or even a science fair — you’re the one who’s planning to make sure his support squad is in place ( forming you and your boyfriend, tim drake )

“tim, clear your schedule. i don’t care if bruce called a meeting or gotham’s on fire. damian’s science fair is tomorrow, and we will be there.”

there’s no point in arguing with you

the moment you hear about the science fair, you are immediately all in. of course damian protests about how he doesn’t need your help. he’s completely capable of doing some stupid project

“i know you are, but every great scientist needs an assistant. think of me as your alfred in this situation,” you hoped the slightest mention of alfred, his father’s personal assistant would make damian less grumpy but from the way he shot you a glare you knew your attempt was screwed ( not for long )

over the weeks leading up to the fair, you help him brainstorm ideas that are in balance with his advanced brain work and appropriate for his age group. damian initially suggests a DNA-splicing project but settles on a robotics demonstration when you gently redirect him with how the school might frown upon genetic experiments ( he tried once and by the end of his presentation, the teacher called bruce )

when the winners are announced and damian takes first place ( because of course he does) , you practically jumps out of your seat, clapping and cheering louder than anyone else. tim chuckles beside you with a teasing smile etched on his lips, “you’re more excited than he is.”

back at home, as you help him unpack his supplies, damian quietly hands you the certificate he received. “you should keep this.”

“damian, this is your award. why would i keep it?”

“you helped,” his reply is dry and all you get before he disappears into his room

he gets into trouble in school sometimes, and you absolutely refuse to believe that your damian could be at fault

whether he got into a fight, talked back to a teacher, or made some kid cry with a sarcastic comment, you’re pretty convinced it’s all a big misunderstanding. “he’s such a sweet boy, he wouldn’t do something like that unless provoked.” ( sureee )

you drag tim along to the principal’s office and the sight of you looking like damian’s legal guardians creates a funny picture. “are you seriously telling me that a kid who can quote shakespeare off the top of his head is starting childish banters?”

and when damian mouths off to tim or the rest of the family, you always jump in to defend him

“he didn’t mean to call you incompetent, tim. he’s just expressing himself in his unique way.”

“you can’t expect him to adjust overnight, jason. he’s been through a lot.”

tim often raises an eyebrow at your behavior towards his younger brother. “you do realize you’re coddling a kid who could take out a grown man with his bare hands, right?”

who cares, tim, look at the drawing he just made!!

you let him ramble on about his pets, especially about batcow’s care routine or the meal preferences of alfred the cat

damian “accidentally” leaves drawings of you on your desk, and when you thanks him, he dismisses it as “just a sketch”

in your eyes, damian isn’t just tim’s little brother—he’s yours, too

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC: I wanna be like most girls ghosts.

or Danny: What should I do to make my mom happy?

or ~Danny deserves a little teenage rebellion as a treat~

Maddie: I just want this damned Phantom to stop pretending to be a hero! All ghosts are pure evil, who is he trying to deceive? Danny: Oh, really? And Danny took it personally.

It’s not Danny’s fault that he’s a good kid and wants to make his parents happy. But why would he have to be a monster to make them happy? Why must they hate him to be happy?

Danny’s obsession was going crazy.

Well, when your own parents call you a monster in the face, it hurts. Why do they always believe that only their opinion is the absolute truth? They have no idea how much worse things would be if at least some of the ghosts really behaved the way Maddie and Jack think they’re supposed to. If he really is evil by nature, is there any point in fighting his own fate? They want to see him as a villain, he will become one. He will. He just needs a little help and practice. And not bring it to the level when Clockwork has to clean up his mess. Poor guy is without a vacation for how long? Couple of millennia?

Johnny 13: Sup. Danny: F*ck off, Johnny, I’m not in the mood. Busy thinking about world domination. Get out of here or I’ll call Kitty. Johnny 13: What’s wrong? You’re usually so grouchy only towards the end of the week. Danny: Nothing. Just parents. Again. They are wonderful but I can’t help but feel sometimes that they, em… Johnny 13: Suck? Danny: Right…Damn. I’m a terrible son. Maybe something is wrong with me. Johnny 13: What? No, no, dude. You’re just growing up. And you’re a little late, usually teenagers go through that stage before they graduate. Well, you’ve probably been busy with other issues, so just missed it. Danny: I wonder whose fault it is. Aren’t there ghosts who enjoyed to ruin my life in the middle of school day?

Johnny 13: Oh, bother. Anyway, you’re entering a beautiful time of emancipation, where you’re going to shape your own view of life and, along the way, to get drunk on cheap alcohol at parties, maybe to go to jail and to become the greatest disappointment to your family..And then you will be ashamed to remember it for about the next ten years. Danny: Well, it looks like I’ve already done two out of three additional things. Great success. Johnny 13: When did you get drunk? Danny: I didn’t. Johnny 13: Oh. Want to fix that? Danny: What? No. What an idiot wants to add a headache to his problems? Johnny 13: Well, your loss, then I’ll go terrorize the bars of Gotham alone and no one can stop me. Let’s see what your boyfriend will say about it. ~~~~~ Danny: Bartender, another shot of Dead Man’s Fingers, please. Red Hood: Babe, haven’t you had enough? Danny: Have you ever felt that no matter how hard you try, no matter how many sacrifices you make, in their eyes you’ll always be nothing more than a monster? Nothing more than a mistake? Oh, Death doesn’t give people like me a break. Red Hood: …I’ll have what he’s having. *gives the bartender a sign to switch the rum shots to a batburger milkshake for them, and starts talking to Danny so that he doesn’t understand Hood's scams*

~~~~~

Johnny 13: Other people’s kids are growing up so fast. It seems like yesterday he didn’t know how to shoot ectoblast, and now.. Kitty: Stop trying to make me feel bad, we’re leaving. Johnny 13: But the boy needs our support, honey boo!

~~~~~

Danny: I'm fine. Really, I am. This isn’t the first time mom’s called me a monster. She often called me that when she was upset with my behavior in my childhood. Huh, it's even funny. Jason: There’s nothing funny about that. Danny: No, you don’t understand. Looking back, I was really a very active child and didn’t know when to stop. Not surprisingly that I often annoyed my parents. They’re very busy people, and Jazz couldn’t always keep an eye on me. And I was often afraid to go to sleep alone because there were shadows in the darkness of my room. Well, I used to think they were. But I pretended everything was okay to not distract parents from work. Jason: Hey, it’s not your fault. You were a child. Obviously, kiddo requires a lot of attention, they must have understood that. You are the second child in the family, right? Danny: Well, Jazz was different. I don’t know. Anyway, I thought if the monsters behind the curtain and under the bed were just like me, well, according to my mom, you know, then they wouldn’t want to hurt me. And since they look after me, they are friends. So I kinda greeted all the suspicious noises and howls. Huh, I was a strange kid. Jason: If you smile at someone in the dark alley right now that someone is more likely to wet themselves or faint. Danny: Rude! I’m not that scary. Admit that I’m adorable. Do it right now. Jason: Stunning, darling. But still carry a gun and a knife, please. My childhood taught me that what's hiding in the dark is worth beating up. Danny: Come on, what should I be afraid of? Death? Anyway, I want to try this shit. Like, the inevitable one. Being a bad boy, you know? Hood *raises eyebrows*. Danny: Oh damn it man, I'm talking about ghostliness. I want to try to be like most of dead ones. I want to unleash my side of the trickster and the villain. But only a little bit. I have to be supervised so that things don't go too far. Would you help me, honey?

~~~~~2 hours later~~~~

~~~~~

Goons used to expect a lot of weirdness from working with the boss.

Sometimes Bruce Wayne would go into their base and yell at the Red Hood like he's one of his kids. Of course Wayne's well-known as 'Gotta adopt them all' but the guy must really suffer from insomnia to count the Red Hood into his brood of chicks several times. Sometimes the boss would fight Robin or Nightwing over differences in morals…or for biscuits. It varied from moment to moment. Sometimes the boss caught the local street children, fed them and taught them to steal correctly. And most of the foundlings stayed with them under their protection.

To make a long story short, Red Hood is not the typical crime lord that some of them had to deal with before. Which is a blessing. Thanks Lord for the health insurance. But still the crime lord. Which means he's still scary, and sometimes deadly.

Anyway, when the boss brought in a guy who looked more civilian than any civilian in the whole Gotham and said he was going to be their intern, they thought it was a joke at first. Despite the fact that Hood was not in the habit of joking while working.

The teenager was too well-mannered and sweet to come from Crime Alley. Phil thought the guy was gonna run when he saw the first murder, Jessica didn’t think the domestic boy wouldn’t chicken out at the sight of a fight. But arguing with a boss’s orders in their profession is like asking for a bullet in the head, so these conversations were taking place outside of their boss's sight. God, how can they teach him anything? What do you take from a boy who’s only good to do the coffee run? Fenton will fall if they’ll give him something heavier than 10 pounds. And then boss will yell at them because he treats the new guy like a princess on a pea. Well, at least that’s what they thought until the boss decided to give the new guy his own assignments:

~~~~~

Red Hood: So, what have you learned during your internship, my young Padawan? Danny: Well, it looks like I’m gonna suck at being a criminal mastermind. I think I may have to find myself some other profession. Red Hood: Come on, you just need a little more practice. Danny: Thank you but I don’t think that’s fit my obsession that good. Don't misunderstand me, I wanna be like most ghosts. But I was wrong to go to hit that goal only base on human stereotypes about my nature. Red Hood: What a pity. The newbies just learned not to flinch when you walk in. But, to be honest, I'm not gonna miss the adrenaline-boosting roller coaster of you at work. Danny: Oh, and I guess to hold on to the concept of humanity was really stupid too. I clearly no longer fit in and I’m finally ready to accept that. So, hopefully, if you get into trouble, you can rely on my ghostliness and call for help. I am the spirit of many talents and of my word. I can haunt your enemies or walk through the walls of Arkham Asylum. Whatever you need, I’ll be here. Red Hood: I’ll bear that in mind.

[realcube]

dilf december

day two ⭑ katsuki bakugo ⭑ student's parent x teacher! reader

tw : nsfw minors dni, age gap, oral (giving), mentions of vaginal, praise

it's always difficult when there is a problem child in your class, and for the sake of the other students' learning, you need to get their parents involved.

but it's even more difficult when the aforementioned child's only parent is worse than they are.

school had ended, and you had scheduled a meeting with the parent of a child in your class who has been disrupting and causing trouble. you tried to deal with the situation internally but you've been left with no choice but to call a parents-teacher conference.

it was disheartening to hear the child only had one active parent in their life, but that didn't change the fact their behaviour had to be dealt with. you called their parent and arranged for him to meet you in your classroom at 3.10PM.

it's now 3.30PM and a rugged man with spikey blonde hair and light stubble, wearing a black hero costume comes barging into your room, yelling, "alright, make this quick."

before you can even process what he looks like, he's thrown himself down on the chair that you had positioned across from your desk. you take a moment to look at him, and that's when you realise he's not only extremely hot but also that you recognise this guy has a very well-known pro-hero. king explosion murder dynamight god or something over-the-top like that.

but regardless of his occuption or how famous or how good-looking he is, you must remain professional and treat him like you would any other parent of your student.

"good afternoon, sir. i'm glad you could join me today to discuss your child's academic performance. twenty minutes late, however."

he crosses his arms over his chest and dramatically groans, "i see what the problem is. so, i'm not going to sit here and get lectured about my kid's 'academic performance' from some tween who graduated yesterday."

you blink twice, unfamilar with being met with this much hostility right off the bat. so it takes you a moment to gather yourself before you are able to choke out a response. "my age or experience has nothing to do with this. i'm just trying to help your child succeed in my class."

taking a calm approach seemed to be effective, as bakugo sunk back into his chair. his arms were still crossed over his chest and he still had a sour expression but at least he's listening.

"okay. so if you don't mind me asking, what are things like at home?"

"fine." he replies bluntly.

you nod along, trying to mimic a concerned look, as though you don't already know exactly what the problem is. "alright. it's just that your child has been displaying signs of bad-temper in class and is prone to angry outbursts, and those behaviours usually stem from within the household."

"yeah? well, his mums a whore so that probably doesn't help either." he states plainly, averting eye-contact.

you harshly bite your tongue to prevent you from laughing or even showing the slightest sign of amusement on your face. "oh?" you croak. "so i assume there has been a bit of infidelity."

"a bit." he agrees, staring at you with narrowed eyes.

"and how are you all planning on navigating the situa—"

"look. you're not a god damn therapist so don't try this psychoanalysis bullshit on me. just tell me what you want me to do. make him do extra homework? yell at him? take his games away? what?"

you press your lips together in a line, and stare at him in thought. you clear your thought and reply unsteadily, "i don't.. really know. to me it seems like he is just mimicking behaviours he sees at home and is responding to a high-stress environment. are you the only one who lives with him?"

"yeah. me, him and sometimes my mum babysits." he grumbles.

"well, i think we'd need to address the root of the cause. and i hate to say it, sir, but that would be you."

"of course it fuckin' is." he spits, and you brush this off and continue talking.

"you seem very irate about the situation with your wife an—"

"ex-wife." he corrects.

".. ex-wife. and rightfully so. on top of that, i understand you have a very intense and high-stakes job? all of that stress cannot be good for you; i'd suggest you take steps to address your own worries and that should ease the tension in your house."

"don't be stressed or angry. got it." he replies sardonically.

"just take some extra time to chill out and focus on yourself. plus, i happen to know a very effective relaxation technique, if you're interested?"

he quirks an eyebrow.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

you pride yourself on being a helpful and engaging teacher. that's part of the reason why you find yourself on your knees, hidden away in the janitor's cupboard, with your student's dad's dick in your mouth.

it's dark, with only a single flickering bulb illuminating the room, and it casts shadows over his chiselled face. making him all the more intimidating to gaze up at, with crystalline tears welling in your eyes from the way his fat cock bruises the back of your throat.

but even then, he has a firm grip on your hair and uses it to maneuver your head to his pleasing, forcing you to take it all repeatedly at a pace of his making. "shit, you're too fuckin' good at that." he groans lowly, sighing through his nose.

his gaze flickers rapidly between staring into distance at looking down at you and watching your every move; how your sweet cheeks puff out to take his girth, or the way your plump lips clasp and pucker around him. but occasionally he'll lose himself in the intoxicating feeling of your warm mouth and find his eyes rolling back in his head and increasingly lewd noises coming from him.

in this instance, he didn't snap back to reality until after he had shot his salty load into your mouth. you close you mouth as he looks down at you expectantly. without a word exchanged, you swallow it and he only chuckles. "what a good girl." he muses, pulling you up to your feet by your hair and admiring your dishevelled state.

when you are at around his level again, he notices a smudge of cum has spilled from the corner of your lip. so he promptly uses his thumb to guide it back inside, admiring you as he does so.

but this is short-lived before he swiftly turns you around by your hips and works at unbuttoning your jeans, "now let me try this tight pussy."

[wonderjanga]

Billy the Therapist

Heroes find Marvel a very easy person to talk to, even if his advice and or solutions to their problems are outrageous sometimes.

A great example of this was when Marvel and Flash were in one of the Watchtower’s rec rooms. They were on the floor, laying on their stomachs, kicking their feet in the air like a couple of teenage girls while trying to complete a puzzle.

Flash: *talking about a fight he had with Iris* “She threatened to kick me out for Christ’s sake!”

Marvel: “You know, problems like these shouldn’t matter in the long run.” *places down a puzzle piece*

Flash: “Easy for you to say, you don’t have a wife.” *places down another piece*

Marvel: “You’re right, I don’t, but I knew somebody who got divorced from their wife and they kinda spiraled.” *is talking about a crackhead that lives a couple doors down from him, in fact, it’s this crackhead*

Flash: “What happened to him?”

Marvel: “He became a crackhead.”

Flash: “WHAT?? Dude, this is just us arguing about dishes!”

Marvel: “I know I know, but what I’m saying is the fact that you guys blew this out of proportion over dishes, isn’t really healthy for your relationship. You guys need to work on deescalating conflicts.”

Flash: “I-” *pauses* “That’s actually pretty good advice. You’re right. I’ll apologize to her later.”

Marvel: “Cool so now you won’t become a crackhead.” *puts another piece down*

Flash: “Cap, I don’t think that was ever on the table.”

Though, every now and then, he can give solid advice without sounding a little absurd. Like when Clark was talking about how he wanted nothing to do with Connor and how it was unfair that all this responsibility was put on him.

Supes: *venting*

Marvel: *face blank (He’s just thinking) as he’s chewing a granola bar*

Supes: *sees his blank face* “Please don’t tell me you’re disappointed in me too.”

Marvel: “I’m not.” *finishes his granola bar before crumpling the wrapper up and basketball shooting it into a trash can* “Clark, I think it’s perfectly reasonable to feel the way you do.”

Supes: “You do?” *a little relieved and also surprised because he can’t recall Marvel ever calling him by his first name before*

Marvel: “I do. I mean, think about it. One of your worst enemies, without your consent, took your DNA and his and then proceeded to make a child with it. Then, he tried to make that child into a weapon to take you down. And when that didn’t work and the child was left to us, you were just expected to raise it? So no, I’m not disappointed in the slightest. Granola bar?” *gets two more granola bars*

Supes: *takes one and starts eating it*

Marvel: “But on the other hand, Connor’s a really nice kid. He looks up to you and asks about you a lot. I… don’t think you have to be a father to him. I think you should just focus on being an acquaintance, and maybe in the distant future-” *noms on his own new granola bar* “-you guys can be friends. In all honesty, just treat him like a human being with feelings Clark. He’s still a kid after all.”

Supes: *is quiet for a bit* “I will. Thanks.” *munches more on his granola bar* “These are really good. Where’d you get these?”

Marvel: “Flash’s stash.”

Supes: *nearly chokes* “Flash’s stash?! Isn’t he like super protective of his food??”

Marvel: *shrugs* “He’s never caught me with it so i dunno.”

[gynoidgearhead]

It feels deeply weird to be doing this, but I am steadily losing it in my current living situation.

I have no job, no degree, no savings, no transportation, and severely compromised privacy. I am located in a suburb of Phoenix where high temperatures and urban sprawl make it very difficult to get anywhere without a car. Exactly zero of these things have gotten better in the last five years; several have gotten worse.

Without outside intervention, I am now further away from independence than ever.

The situation with my parents is... complicated. While my parents are supportive of me being transgender, and have up to now paid my basic living expenses with few conditions, my father has expressed vehemently over the past year that he wants me out of here as soon as possible. My father is abrasive to both me and my mother, and placating him is getting increasingly difficult. Though he hasn't done it recently, he has also thrown things at me in the past, and I have been sleeping with my door locked for most of the time I have been moved back in with my parents.

I am autistic and have some pretty serious mental health problems, including lifelong OCD and general anxiety. I have been having panic attacks semi-regularly for the past two and a half years. My dad is pretty impatient with me for being autistic, and my mom continuously tries to flatten the dynamic between the two of us as having both of us be equally at fault, often even in the next breath after admitting she can't deal with my dad either.

I'm trying. I am doing literally everything I can to balance keeping my parents satisfied against me not wanting to die. I wouldn't be asking for help if I thought I could handle my current situation.

To anyone who donates, thank you all in advance; and please don't donate if it's going to compromise your own safety.

It's go time.

My fiancee, aka, my queer anarchist wife with whom I do not have legal unity yet, is currently living in an abusive situation that I haven't been able to extricate her from for internet lesbian reasons.

Please reblog this, and if you can spare even a few dollars every little bit will help us to get her away from that, into some newer, safer accomodations, where we can stay together until everyone in our little queer caravan is all ready to pack up our things and move north together.