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#honestly they’re helping out so many people
puppetmaster13u · 2 days
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Prompt 257
Now Danny loves space. He loves everything about it, to the point his core quite literally is space. And he’s also a baby ghost, even if he could argue he’s not in human form. But see, being baby has an honestly great consequence once it’s noticed- despite the Observants’ best attempts at hiding it, the assholes. 
Of course he would be far more worried- and even a bit pissed- if his caretaker wasn’t who it was. Look, he’d never met Clockwork’s siblings before, but apparently everyone was really against Clockwork himself adopting. 
But Clockwork as his uncle is fine. Besides, his caretaker is Space! Space itself is holding him, cooing gentle words in the sounds of the very cosmos. And they’re huge, like parts of their body going through portals so they can fit outside Long-Now sized big- and apparently Clockwork can get just as big and they can get even bigger- 
Okay, he needs to take a breath- even if he doesn’t need to breathe- to stop his squealing because holy Realms this is so cool. 
Space is awesome! And he’s getting so much more rest than he did in Amity- and even if Space sort of shrugged at the idea of school at first, they did help him set up online schooling. So there’s that, and it’s just the start! 
He gets to learn so much about space and it’s honestly kind of… nice? To be taken care of? And he can do whatever he needs for his Core and Obsession with only a few interruptions to take care of his living needs. Erm, sort of living needs? 
But even that gets turned into a bit of play or even a lesson too! He’s honestly having such a good time right now! He’s learning so much about spaaace! And dimensions! And interdimensional portals and- oops! No one saw that. 
Ahem- But he’s learning so much about space and getting to explore other dimensions with Cosmos! And sure he no longer looks as human as he once did and all that, but he’s seen so many people who also don’t look human that does it really matter? 
Of course it doesn’t, and he matches his sort-of-dad! Even though the streaks of color in their hair are more of a brown-red like they’re literally bleeding out the cosmos around them instead of it fading to void and space like his own. But still! They match and it’s fun! 
And they’re going to go on another trip from the in-between to one of the dimension realities! He’s going to start a game of tag this time he thinks! But no cheating with portals or bending space! Tag! 
Look, the Justice League? Not paid enough for this. In fact, technically not paid at all due to being volunteers (not that it stopped them from finding money in their accounts) but still. 
There is some sort of figure… being… thing… zooming around the asteroid belt, about the size of Earth itself. Let them repeat themselves. A planet-sized creature (are those hands or paws? Tail or simply its body stretching? Hair or the Abyss-) is currently darting around the asteroid belt like a child running through grass. 
That is, without noticing or caring if something bug-sized might be crushed. And they are very much bug sized, as the governments are concerned about. Like really concerned about. Like talking about trying to nuke the entity if it wanders closer sort of concerned. 
Which they are all very concerned and very much like, against. Because it isn’t seeming to notice the asteroids it’s knocking into their area. It’s like… not a space whale or eel or anything like that but also is something like that. 
And they would also maybe like to see if they can attempt to talk it down first maybe and-
oh. 
Oh. 
That creature is the baby. And mama just arrived, stretching across the entire galaxy, from them to Pluto and beyond, like something took the cosmos and shaped it like clay into some sort of form. Like reality itself has wandered into their galaxy with what they are suddenly realizing must be a very young child. 
Shit, they really have to make sure no one tries to piss either of these things off-
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ozarkthedog · 2 days
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃
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summary: while doing a deal with Marc, Joel comes to collect your debt.
pairing: (mob enforcer!Joel Miller x afab!reader) x dealer!Marc Spector.
warnings: 18+ mdni. dub con -> read responsibly. alt universe. soft!dark. no physical descriptors of reader. power imbalance. threats. debt to the mob. weed. no m/m. oral sex (f&m). rough sex. dirty talk. spit roasting. shotgunning. aftercare. w.c. 4.2k
author's note: honestly, this started out as pure filth/pwp, then it turned into so much more. there is potential for multiple parts, mostly revolving around Joel x reader. don't hold me to it, but like i said, this took on a life of its own, and now i'm madly in love with mob enforcer!Joel.
huge thank you to @ghotifishreads for beta-ing and being such a wonderful, supportive friend.
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐎𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲
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The carpet in your tiny living room was slowly developing a hole from your pacing back and forth. You love this apartment. Sure, the faucets drip, and the dingy wallpaper started peeling the day you moved in, but it was all yours. 
Since you moved to the big city after leaving home, you took any job you could find. You knew starting out on your own would be tough, but you could grin and bear it. Anything was better than small-town life. You wanted adventure, to see what the world had to offer.
What you didn’t plan on was getting involved with the wrong kind of people. 
When you fell months behind on rent, a co-worker mentioned she knew someone who could help. 
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It was too good to be true, you thought, as you slowly walked into a smokey nightclub around midnight. Uptempo Spanish music played in the background as patrons drank at the bar, loudly singing and chattering. You tread deeper into the club, entering a VIP section where multiple gorgeous women sat on the laps of intimidating, finely dressed men in expensive suits. 
Various sets of eyes spot you the moment you cross the threshold, but only one set feels like they’re burning into your soul.
An unnerving man with piercing brown eyes holds your wary gaze. He’s draped in a long, brown leather coat, and streaks of gray pepper his temples. He stands to the side, leaning against the wall, and watches with intrigue as you shift nervously on your feet. 
His arms are crossed. A mustache tops his lips, which are etched in a permanent scowl as if he’s a dog that’s been kicked too many times. Still, he’s among the most handsome men you’ve seen since coming to the city.
He pushed off the wall with his broad shoulders, finally breaking his stare, and leaned down to whisper in the ear of a younger man seated at the head of the table, presumably his boss. 
“You need a little help, Sugar?” the younger man asked. 
His dark hair is a mess of curls, and his cheekbones look like they could cut glass. “I could use some help around the club. There’s always a gentleman in need of some company.” His fingers traced along a woman's nylon thigh as he looked you up and down. His coy lips tugged into a smirk as the group quietly laughed. 
The brown-eyed man's face grimaced at the younger man's tone. You want to curl in on yourself. The smoke in the air makes it hard to breathe. “Uh, no,” you start, tonguing your dry lips. “I just need to borrow some money.” 
The younger man purses his lips and nods. “That can be arranged. Joel here will take care of you.” He motioned to the older man on his right and looked you over with a curious gaze before waving you away.
Joel, the mob boss's right-hand man, meets you in the dingy alley behind the club. Water drips off the corner of the rooftop from the storm that blew through earlier in the day. A gust of cool fall air blows through, and you hug yourself to keep warm.
You learn that Joel was a no-nonsense man, straight to the point. Clear and precise.
He thrusts a heavy bag into your hands, and the leather handle creaks under the weight. “You sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?” he asks, lighting a cigarette. Orange hues lit his features sinisterly as if he were a demon or creature from hell's depths.
You stood your ground, but the tremble in your voice gave you away. “Yeah, I know what I’m doing.” 
Joel’s eyes go soft. It’s the first time he looks human since you first saw him. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, shaking his head. He blows a long gust of smoke from his nose. “He expects to be paid, with interest, by the end of the month.”
You teethe your bottom lip with a nod as nauseous worry swarms your belly.  
“I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” he states, thumbing at his lips. “Just so we know you haven’t run off with our money.”
Your eyes widen, and your knees slightly buckle. “No! I don’t plan on taking off. You don’t have to worry about that.” You trip over your words, frantically making sure he knows you won’t rip them off.   
He chuckles at the sight. It’s a deep, dark rumble from years of smoking and drinking, and it makes your cunt throb. “We don’t think you will, but it’s part of the job. Besides, having to keep track of such a pretty face ain’t so bad.” he muses, a light smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.
An anxious, breathy laugh puffs from your chest. You hesitantly wring the leather handle as your eyes fall to the wet pavement.
A horn blares in the distance. Angry drivers yell into the night, breaking the perilous spell between you and the enforcer. 
“If you ever need help with anythin', let me know, okay?” he offers before turning on his heel and returning to the club.
“How will I contact you? With a bat signal or something?” You asked quizzically.
He chuckled again, and it set your heart on fire. “Just call the club and ask for me, sweetheart.”
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You were truly and utterly fucked. 
It was the end of the month. Joel would arrive at 5pm to collect, and you had $50 measly dollars left in your bank account.
You’d squared up with your landlord and then some, paying for a few months in advance to show how grateful you were that he didn’t kick you out on the streets. What you didn’t plan on was getting fired from your job. You desperately tried to find another one, but you knew it was pointless as the end of the month slowly crept.
A knock on the door jars you from your thoughts. You scramble to open it, thankful your dealer was around today. You badly needed a smoke to curb your anxiety and impending doom.
Marc stands on your doorstep, beaming with his classic lopsided smile. “How’s it going?” He asks, making the short trip over to your couch, unbuttoning his long, black, and gray tweed coat before plopping down with a sigh. 
“Uh, fine,” you reply quickly. “You know. Same old.” 
“Same shit, different day, as I like to say.”  He scratches his trimmed beard with a coy grin. He looks really good today. Dark gray hair gelled and tousled. 
Nerves tug at your belly. You can taste the bitter doubt in the back of your throat.
Marc was a decent dealer. He let you start a tab when funds were low and gave you extra lighters and papers when needed. You knew to avoid crossing him, so what you had to do was extra tricky.
You sit on the floor across from him as he chucks a bag filled with joints onto the coffee table. Your body itches to feel the smoke burn your lungs.   
“Wanna hang for a bit? Smoke with me?” you offer, already reaching for the joint with a timid smile.
Marc quirks a brow. He digs his phone out of his tweed jacket and checks the time. “Uh, yeah, sure. I can hang for a bit.”
You try to light the joint, but the lighter won’t spark.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Marc asks, taking the lighter from your shaky hands. 
You silently nod and press the joint between your lips. Just as he lights the spliff, a knock sounds on your door.
You curse under your breath and hand the unlit joint to Marc. “Sorry. I’ll give whoever that is the boot.” He nods and sparks the joint, taking a long drag as you cross the distance to the door.
You yank open the door without thinking. “I don’t want anything you’re selli-”
“Hey there, Sweetheart,” a familiar, deep voice drawls.
You stand like a deer in headlights before the intimidating mob enforcer. 
He wasn’t supposed to be here so early. That’s the last time you open your door without checking the peephole.
“What’re you doing here, Joel?” you inquire, leaning in close so Marc doesn’t hear. "I have until tonight to give you the money."
The older man's leather jacket is pulled tight around his rugged shoulders as he leans in your doorway. His salt and pepper curls look damp as if you were his first stop after he got out of the shower.
“The boss has plans later and wants to ensure you're paid up.”
You wanted to scream. 
“This isn’t fair.” Your fists clench at your sides.
“That’s life, Sweetheart’.” Joel shrugs. “So, where’s the money?"
It takes every ounce of courage you have to stand your ground. 
“No. The boss said I had until 5pm, so I won’t give you anything until then. Now kindly, leave.”
You slam the door, but not quickly enough. A worn boot slides between the frame and the door, halting your escape.
“God dammit,” Joel fumes, shoving the door open, sending you flying back into your living room.
You catch yourself before you fall and watch as the enforcer makes his way into your sacred space. Now you know what it feels like to be on his wrong side. He kicks the door shut with his foot, ready to pounce, but freezes when he sees Marc.
“Miller.” Marc acknowledges from his laid-back position on the couch, joint pinched between his fingers.
Joel’s jaw twitches. “Spector.”
“So, what’s going on here?” Marc asks, gesturing with a curious wave. He then blows a lungful of smoke into the room and flicks bits of burning embers into an ashtray.
“None of your business,” Joel grits before focusing his attention back on you.
You do your best not to cower in front of the large man as he stalks closer. “You don’t want to make the boss angry.” He says, in an eerily calm voice, one that makes your hair stand on end. “Where’s the money?”
“I don’t have it.” You admit, barely louder than a whisper.
His jaw clenches hard. He shakes his head in disbelief, hands perched on his hips. His eyes grow scarily dark. "That’s not what I want to hear.”
“I don’t know what to say. I have a few dollars left in my account,” Your voice wavers.
Joel drags a heavy palm over his face and sighs. “What were you thinking? How were you going to pay him?” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder to your dealer.
“I, uh, I had a plan.” Your fingers wring at the seam of your shirt, and nausea swarms your belly.
Marc stands and finally joins the conversation. “Yeah, I’d like to know how you intended to pay me.”
You shift on your feet, eyes darting between the two more prominent and influential men. 
“I was going to offer to blow you.” The words tumble out so quickly that you wonder if they even heard you.
You wish the floor would open up and suck you in. It was bad enough that you had to resort to blowing your dealer, but now Joel was here to witness everything and most likely drag you to a certain death.
“For fucks sake,” the older man groans. 
Marc’s brow shoots into his hairline. He whistles as his eyes drag down your body. “You sure got yourself into a real jam here, huh?” He licks his bottom lip and steps closer. “I think something could be arranged, at least on my end. What about you?” He claps a hand on Joel's back, barely moving the powerhouse of a man. He was an enforcer, after all. This job wasn’t just for anyone. 
Joel shakes his head in dismay. His leather jacket creaks as he moves, lightning fast, quickly pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, Sweetheart.” He informs, “Since I’ve taken a likin’ to you, I’d hate to see you get hurt. I’ll pay off your debt.”
The heavy weight you’d dragged around for the last week falls from your shoulders. You didn’t realize you’d stop breathing until the sweet air rushed into your lungs.  
 “But,” he continues, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip, “you’re going to pay me back in kind.”
The heaviness returns, except now you’re afraid the extreme weight will crush you.
Joel notices your racing thoughts. “Shh. No need to think,” he murmurs, letting his hand fall to your hip and making himself comfortable. “Just be grateful you’ve got to deal with only me and Spector.” 
His eyes are solemn and tender, lost in his thoughts; his gaze travels across your face. You raise a cautious hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat under the smooth leather. That magnetic pull you felt the first time you met him pulsed through your veins again, and you think he felt it, too. 
Then, his features twisted with remorse. "This wasn't what I had in mind, but you've left me no choice, Sweetheart."
In a flash, Joel drags you across the worn floorboards and carelessly tosses you over the back of your couch. The air knocks from your lungs. Your ribs flash bright with pain. He moves too fast for you to protest and tugs your leggings off, throwing them across the small room. 
“Best get to work, Spector, if you plan on getting your end of the deal,” Joel threatens the dealer as he crouches down, giving himself a front-row view of your exposed cunt. 
“Let’s get a look at the goods.” His large, warm hands roughly spread your cheeks apart. “Fuck me. That’s a sweet looking pussy.” He drags a thumb up the slice of you, making your spine bow as your hands press into the cushions. “Already wet, too. My kinda girl.”
Unconsciously, you strike an elbow back, but an imposing figure grabs your flailing limb, halting your retaliation.
You forgot about the other man in the room. 
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t ever wonder how you’d look with my cock in your mouth,” Marc admits while fisting his length out. 
He’s half-hard and already intimidating. You stare up at him incredulously while he grasps his veiny girth and traces your tightly closed mouth with the weeping, dusky pink tip. He smears his pre-cum on your skin, marking you before he begins his corruption.
Joel smacks your ass hard, making you yelp and shoving you onto the dealer’s awaiting cock. You instantly gag as Marc's hips pitch forward once he feels your warm, wet mouth. He curses under his breath, cages your head between his hands, and begins sawing his cock back and forth over your tongue. 
His brute thrusts make you gag and spring tears to your eyes. “Come on now. Why the waterworks? This was your plan, after all,” Marc teases, patting your damp cheek.  
Without warning, Joel’s tongue dives into your heat. A blazing heat erupts in your belly as he licks from end to end, wild and ferocious, not stopping until he tastes every inch of you. 
You instinctively moan from the blissful arousal that begins to pulse from his treatment. He laves at your taint and tickles your untouched rosebud for a beat forcing your mind to somersault before traveling south to circle his tongue around your clit. 
“Could eat this cunt all damn day,” he slurs against your throbbing core like he's drunk off you. “God damn, s’fuckin’ delicious.”
Joel sucks the tiny button into his mouth, earning a whole body shiver as you writhe against the couch. He rubs his nose against your soaked folds, making sure to take deep breaths while he eats you alive. 
Marc leans to his left while he works his cock ruthlessly down your throat, making you sputter as the bulbous head prods your tonsils.
You hear a click. The sound of paper igniting and then a long, deep breath.
Marc leers down at you while holding the smoke in his lungs. He curls a hand around the back of your head and presses until the auburn wiry strands littering his girthy base tickle your nose. Then, he exhales, blowing a long, winding breath like a dragon down into your face. 
Your vision blurs from the vapor. The trapped oxygen burns your lungs, and your body quivers from your helpless position while you gag sickly around his cock. Joel winds his arms under your belly, keeping you steady as you thrash anxiously. 
When Marc finally lets you free, you sputter and suck down as much air as you can. A glossy strand of drool connects your lips to his throbbing cock. You sniff and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as his fat length bounces in your view. “You look fuckin’ wasted, Kitten.” He quips with a languid laugh and takes another hit. 
Joel stands behind you, knees cracking as he towers over your vulnerable body. You warily look over your shoulder when he grinds his against the soft skin of your ass.
You’re caught in his wretched stare like a deer in headlights. “Best hope this pussy fucks as good as it tastes,” he threatens, tapping his bulbous, weeping crown on your sticky folds.
Joel gives no warning before he steadily pushes his obscene length into your heat. Your jaw drops with a raspy wail, allowing Marc to fill your mouth again and mute your frantic moans. You feel every vein and girthy inch of Joel’s cock splitting you open, as well as Marc's, as he glides his thickness over your tongue.
It seems to go on forever until they bottom out harmoniously. Joel presses his hips against your ass, and his plush lips pull into a sneer as your core stretches to accommodate him. “Oh, Sweetheart. This cunt is practically chokin’ me.” He provokes with a ragged groan, rubbing his thumb along the glistening, excessively stretched skin that embraces his cock.
A high-pitched whine slithers from your throat before it’s quickly cut off by Marc snapping his pelvis. Joel licks his creamy thumb with a dark chuckle before caging your hips in his steely grasp. He sets a steady rhythm, entirely withdrawing before shoving his cock back in, giving you no reprieve as Marc continuously thrusts his dripping length between your spit-coated lips. 
Your body burns. Your mind is warped. Joel's cock keeps brushing against that spongy spot behind your clit. It's all too much. You feel yourself losing strength, giving in. Either from lack of oxygen to your brain or your greedy cunt that's feeding off their wretched pleasure. 
"You gonna come, Sweetheart? Can feel her milkin' me real good. Shit-" Joel hisses as your velvet walls squeeze him tight.
Both your holes lock around their cocks as you come. Your eyes roll back, your spine bending like a bow as the harsh wave of desire ripples through you. 
Both men curse at the sight and feel of you. 
It shouldn’t feel this good being used and tossed around like a toy, but a thick, syrupy heat steadily gathers in your belly. With your head in the drug-induced clouds, every illicit touch sends you higher into a euphoric atmosphere.
“Wanna hit?” Marc offers, holding the joint between his fingers to the enforcer.
Joel finally tears his eyes away from where he’s spearing you open. He nods, stilling his hips, and extends a hand before pressing the joint between his lips. He takes a long drag before splaying his broad body over yours. 
You notice him in your peripheral as he watches you choke down Marc’s cock. “What a fuckin’ sight,” he drawls, joint bouncing between his lips. “Swallowin’ his cock like your life depends on it.” He roughly drives his hips forward, his leaky crown cruelly kissing your cervix, making you gag from the agonizing bliss. “Kinda ironic that it does.” 
You feel their cocks pulse in unison when you start writhing at Joel’s threat. You knew they wouldn’t hurt you, but the thought was too much to bear in your current state. They quickly make work of your flailing limbs; Joel grabs the back of your neck with a heavy paw, and Marc traps both your hands in his own, caging them against his stout stomach.
They set a brutal pace. You no longer feel in control of your body as they use you to get off. The room echoes with the sounds of gluttony, like feral animals staking their rightful claim on lowly prey. 
Marc comes with a growl, caging your head between his hands as you push against his abdomen, and fucks his salty release into your mouth. He collapses onto the couch with a ragged sigh, his engorged cock a shiny mess as he catches his breath. 
“Gotta get used to this, sweetheart,” Joel gloats in your ear, working an arm around your collarbone to pull you back onto his cock, forcing you to meet every one of his brutal shoves. “Your pretty pussy is gonna be ruined by the time your debt is paid in full.” 
Marc cups your jaw in one of his hands and takes a puff of his joint. He slides a thumb between your sticky, come coated lips and blows the smoke into your mouth. You gladly inhale, letting the drug work its magic. Joel grabs your hips and picks up his speed, greedy for his pleasure. 
He comes with a gruff, dark groan, snapping his hips hard against your ass until he's buried to the hilt and pumping his sticky load into your fluttering core. 
You collapsed onto the cushions once Joel let go of your hips, your body too weak and drugged to care to move despite your vulnerable state.
“We’re square, Kitten.” Marc grazes your cheek with his knuckles, and a sly grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “But anytime you want a hit and can’t pay, I’ll be more than happy to help you out,” Marc quips before silently nodding at Joel and leaves with a bounce in his step.
"Come're, Sweetheart." Large hands slide under your belly and help you stand on your feet. His eyes soften as he looks over your puffy eyes and swollen, slick coated lips. He cups your cheek and sighs through his nose. "Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"
A rush of water hits your ears as Joel turns the shower faucet. You stand behind him like a child waiting for their next instruction before he turns back to you with a slight smile.
"Up and over. That's it," Joel says, ensuring you don't bump your elbows as he removes your shirt, folds it, and places it on your vanity. He helps you step into the shower before he sits on the toilet lid and watches you through the clear plastic curtain. 
Silence falls over the tiny bathroom as he lets you take solace under the stream.
You melt in the warmth. It eases your aches and dulls your overwrought senses. You stay there until your skin prunes and icy cold water pours from the tap.
He helps you step out of the tub, ensuring you're on solid ground before grabbing a towel hanging on the wall and wrapping you in the soft cotton. 
"You'll stay with me until your debt is paid," he said, resting his hands on your shoulders; the weight keeps you grounded as your world turns upside down.
"You won't have to worry about anythin'," he continues, carefully drying your body with a tenderness you didn't expect. "I'll pay your rent, so you still have this place when our transaction is complete." 
You know you should be upset. A screaming, raging mess but seeing such a dangerous man on his knees drying water droplets from your body makes you lightheaded with alarming power.
He stands when you don't outwardly react. His lips are pressed into a worried, hard line, his hands are perched on his hips, and a sharp brow wrinkles his forehead. "Okay?"
The vexation that laces his tone snaps you out of the dumbstruck fog. You knew there was only one right answer.
“Yes,” you rasp, defeated. 
He smirks, softly chuckling under his breath at your submission.
"I'll be back in a few hours," he says, cupping your jaw like he's drinking from a stream; God knows what brutality those hands have dealt out. "I trust you'll still be here when I get back." 
You nod quickly under his grave stare. 
He plants a searing kiss on your lips, making you gasp. It's dominating and possessive, like he's christening the start of your new life together by licking into your mouth and claiming you. 
He breaks the kiss with a grunt and nudges your nose with his own. "Thatta girl." 
He holds your gaze as he slowly walks backward out of the room. "Pack enough for the next week. I'll swing by later to get the rest," he instructs before turning and walking out your door.
You're left standing in your tiny bathroom, panting like a newborn fawn. Your legs wobble as you move to sit on the toilet lid and clutch the towel tighter to your chest; heart smashing against your ribs.
Joel was right. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into.
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feel free to scream at me -> 💌
*if you'd like to read more about Joel and reader's new life together, please invade my inbox about them! it helps motivate me!*
->reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated!<-
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lanabuckybarnes · 2 days
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Fucking you (literally)
18+ Minors DNI
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(I don’t own any of the photos, credits to their original owners)
No thoughts just thinking about the different Bucky’s and the many ways they’d fuck.
Warnings: a few kinks mentioned in there: spanking, face sitting, hair pulling, phone sex, the winter soldier (he’s mean)
If I’ve missed any more warnings let me know
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40s Bucky is service top 98% of the time, he loves seeing you become immersed in pleasure, you’d think it was him feeling the way he touches you whenever you’d looked at his bliss-filled face. He just absolutely wants and needs you to be completely fucked out and slurring your words with how well he’s satisfied you. That other 2% of the time though, he’s a fucking tease. You want a kiss, he’s pulling away with a tut, that wide grin getting impossibly wider as you whine to him.
If you’re like that with just a kiss imagine how you’d react if he had you flat on your back, dress and underwear thrown somewhere in the room, at this point you didn’t give a fuck. His lips ghost over your stomach, leaving chaste kisses and hot breaths in their wake. Just when he gets to that spot you so desperately want him, he’s away- your thighs needed more marks he’d say. The way only one of his hands would be able to hold you down while he relentlessly teased you, the other either gripping your breast or holding your hand.
Also, breeding kink??
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The Winter Soldier. I honestly don’t think this man would fuck at all but, in this scenario let’s say he partook in it. He is the only Bucky Barnes that I genuinely think would be fully rough, you need mean? You’ve got it. He doesn’t care about your pleasure, he uses you as a release (consensually of course), pushing your face down into the covers and ploughing you. He’d smack your ass so hard as well and leave you sore for weeks because of them, people would normally ask if you were ok but they hear the way he destroys you, they don’t need an explanation as to why you can’t sit down.
I don’t think he’d be entirely heartless, he’d probably feel quite horrible about the huge red marks blooming on your cheeks but you’d reassure him that you loved it, loved the way he used you.
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Civil War Bucky needs someone to take the wheel. He’s so used to having someone control him and it’s hard to shake that immediately. He just needs soft words in his ears while you ride him slowly, sometimes he’s just happy to let you sit there with his cock in you. Civil War Bucky is so whiny, I just imagine him constantly with a veiny hand over his mouth to hide his pitiful moans, his deep blue eyes wet with tears, never leaving you as you suck his thick length nice and good.
On some occasions, Civil War Bucky will try to take the lead but more often than not he’ll flunk out halfway through, flip you over so you’re sitting on top of him and beg you to ride his face until you make a mess of him. Lives for eating pussy, almost cums in his pants when you pull on his hair.
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I skipped 3 eras because they’re the same as Civil War Bucky but FATWS Bucky is like a mix of them all.
When he’s in a foul mood he either needs you to ruin him or he needs to ruin you.
He likes it when you dress all pretty for him when you put on a nice outfit and some pretty silk undies so he can unwrap you, godddd damn.
Since he’s on missions a lot you came to him with the idea of phone sex, or sending videos and pics of each other. To begin with, he was very apprehensive of the whole idea but one long mission later and his cock was hard and his hand wasn’t cutting it. He’d sigh and pick up the phone, noting the late hour over where you were staying. He knew you probably wouldn’t be awake but his finger had pressed call before he even knew it.
Surprisingly you picked up with a cute lil “hey baby” and a soft smile he could hear in your words. His cheeks were beet red when he began to talk about the whole phone sex thing, you helped calm him down though. Suddenly with your sultry voice in his ear, his thrusts into his hand felt so much better. He came hard that night and after saying his Goodnights to you he took a mental note to do that every mission.
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I’m ovulating can you tell?
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bigfatbimbo · 2 days
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if she was in the show, do you think eva would be an antagonist or a protagonist?
watch me rant about Eva Jayne because of this !!
For those who don’t know, this is what she looks like, or at least what she would look like in the style of the show. Y’know, to give you a picture.
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Anyways, ignore my shitty rendition of hazbins style.
I SHOULD PROBABLY TELL THE PEOPLE WHO DONT KNOW WHO EVA IS… Y’KNOW, WHO EVA IS.
Basically, she’s an overlord who died in the mid 1990s and runs the music industry in hell. All of the CDs, records, concerts, and (because of her alliance with Voxtech) spotify, are all thanks to Eva Jayne. Her main weapon, is her guitar, which is not featured in that picture unfortunately.
She owns the souls of many of your favorite musicians, and until she needs them, keeps them in cd cases. However she does pride herself on treating her performers very well when they’re out and about.
Basically I imagine that Eva would be pretty neutral for a large half of the show. I do think she would show support for the hotel, and probably be a reoccurring character in the mains cases lives for a lot of, realistically, the first season, maybe the second.
But I do think that her alliance with the Vees (Voting in particular) would hold her back from actually being apart of the main cast. That, and her relationship with Vox.
However, and you all should take this with a grain of salt, I’ve been toying with her having a deal with Lilith for a long time.
And I was trying to make it work in my head and then I realized; Oh yeah, this is my OC, I can do whatever the fuck I want. Anything goes. So basically, the underlying reason for what i’m about to say, until I figure out how to bullshit more poetically, is simply ‘because it’s cool asf.’
Basically, the idea is that her deal with Lilith was basically ‘In return for a favor, whenever I call upon you, your allowed to go up to the land of the living, for 24 hours, and seek out new musical souls.’
Practically, giving Eva Jayne the power to drag musical artists down to hell whenever she pleases, however, making her in eternal debt to Lilith. Of course, Lilith would call upon her favor when she notices Charlie’s hotel. Basically Eva’s job is to make sure Charlie is safe and her hotel thrives.
So yes, Eva would be technically forced to join the hotel, but honestly, she wouldn’t be fully committed at first. Definitely helping Charlie market, and popping by the hot an annoying amount of times.
But I do think that she sees potential in the hotel, and I could see her fighting for it in the battle in episode 8.
I always, even back in 2020 when I first thought of Eva, saw her and Charlie having a mother-daughter figure type relationship, and I think although it’s not as in character now that we see more of Charlie, it’s still very cute.
Of course, this leads to Eva Jayne and Vox’s already rocky situationship, being put on thin ice. Actually, those two are very interesting to me because they need eachother in a very complex and interesting way.
Basically, the two are very complimentary of eachother, Eva being overall relaxed, doesn’t get angry quickly, very relaxed, painfully honest, while Vox is… well… an emotional manipulative lying bitch. Oh by the way, who’s surrounded by emotional manipulative lying bitches, while Eva, thanks to the hotel, is not,
Eva is Vox’s breath of fresh air, she can calm him down just with her voice and rational thoughts. He needs her, just as much as Eva needs being needed. Now, I meant what I said about Vox in that one post, he doesn’t love like a normal person. Simply put, devoted obsession is what he feels, not love.
Eva Jayne prides herself on her cool headedness and how ‘real’ she is with whoever. Naturally, given his surroundings, this attracts Vox. He does think he loves her, however, Eva has some understanding that he really doesn’t, and keeps him at arms length, which is a thought that probably leads her to embrace the hotel.
Although, I do think they would keep seeing eachother, to be honest. Old habits die hard, what can she say?
Oh my god I do feel like that would have such a not casual, casual relationship. Like more often than not they stay the night at each others places, eat breakfast together, plan the next meetup and fuck. But they aren’t dating.
Y’know, because if there’s one thing Eva doesn’t want, it’s to fall in love with a man who is incapable of loving.
Wow gang! and it’s song by her voice claim too, i’m spoiled! (Oh yeah, btw her voiceclaim is Meg from hercules.)
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oh also, totally inspired by @redr0sewrites latest vox post sorry not sorry 4 the bad art.
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As for her relationship with the other hotel members, the answer is complicated. I do think she’d have a good one with Charlie, but once again her relationship with Voxtek would put her on thin ice.
I think all the other hotel members would open up to her shortly because she’s charming (she’s in show biz, she really has to be. Also in a lot of business situations, her charisma makes up for her blunt honesty.) But Angel would take the longest to trust her and you could probably see why.
If she was actually in the show, I could see there being an episode about that. That’s fun to think about, lmfao.
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also dropping this here because, for some reason, I have a VERY clear imagine in my head if there being a fillar episode about Eva Jayne becoming a little league baseball coach for child demons.
Like I cannot stress this enough, she would get roped into being a little league coach somehow and get way too fucking invested. If Vox is a soccer mom then Eva Jayne is a baseball dad.
ALSO!!! I can’t have an Eva Jayne post without mentioning how she’s bitter ex wives with Mimzy. But they literally HAVE to put up with eachother, because Eva Jayne is Mimzys producer, and Mimzy is Eva Jaynes most favored performer.
Honestly, that marriage lowkey broke Eva’s heart, and she’s under the impression that Mimzy is totally unbothered (That’s not the case, and now they both hate eachother.)
I should also probably mention that one of the only topics that actually gets Eva upset, is literally just Valentino. Like she hates him so much hand has every reason too. She’s seen first hand him and Vox’s relationship, not a fan.
Also, very much dislikes how he treats his workers. As she’s also in the entertainment business, and as I mentioned before, prides herself on treating her employees well when she needs them.
But, of course other things get her mad too. In this rare scenario, she literally just gets violent. She’s old school, she uses her fists and claws and really gets into it.
As for overlord powers, I could see her doing cool shit with her guitar. Like fighting someone by plucking notes on her instrument that shoot straight through them. Also, toying with the idea of being ‘in the zone’ while playing guitar. Basically getting ‘lost in the music’ and heightening whatever the fuck she can do.
But as for overlords in a raw power sense, she’s okay. Not impressive, definitely not Alastor or Vox, but mainly because without her guitar, she’s pretty powerless.
Well, like I said she knows how to use her fists, but you’ve seen the other shit these overlords do. She needs that guitar.
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Anyways I’m gonna end it here after that long ass Eva Jayne post because, most likely, no one fucking cares!
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…oh yeah, anyways. Also I have no clue if ANY of that is coherent because I didn’t double check it.
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cleolinda · 2 days
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Weekend Links, March 17, 2024
My posts
We have had another Trespasser Weirdness Incident at my house, so. Suffice it to say that the Hot & Vintage Movie Women tournament is my primary coping mechanism at this point, and bless @hotvintagepoll for all their work. All 257 polls are up, although many of them have already closed on a rolling basis these last two weeks. Hedy Lamarr vs Sonja Henie was the very last one, and it is a blowout like I have not seen since the time I asked if people throw away their movie theater trash. I think round 2 starts a week from Monday? I would like to apologize for reblogging every single poll, except that I’m not the least bit sorry. 
I posted propaganda several times--sometimes just because a contestant didn’t have much and I wanted to chip in (still in play: Juanita Moore and Martha Sleeper). But I also showed up specifically for Norma Shearer, Claire Bloom, Tallulah Bankhead, Deborah Kerr, a little bit for Joan Fontaine (poll here), Julie Christie (on my mom’s behalf), Gene Tierney, Paulette Goddard, and Ava Gardner. My loyalties will shift as we see who progresses, but I'm wearing the Ava jersey at this point.
Reblogs of interest
A couple of serious links:
The Jewish filmmakers who won an Oscar for The Zone of Interest, a Holocaust film, used their speech time to condemn what’s happening in Gaza. (It helps to read the quote as “as men who refute {their Jewishness and the Holocaust} being used as justification.” “Refute their Jewishness” jumps out weirdly at first glance and confused people.)
I can’t tell if the JKR defender/Holocaust denier in this ask knows they’re lying or just really didn’t know that transgender health books and surgery did, in fact, exist, and that the Nazis targeted them. If you need photographic evidence for future discussions, here you are. Side note: Don't believe everything your favorite childhood author tells you.
Posts that are not serious links or hot lady polls:
Of course, this week we celebrated the Ides of March. (Happy birthday to... Chocolate Guy Amaury Guichon??) Featuring:
Southern Mark Antony
If Mark Antony was Gen Z
“Oh not you as well, Brutus!”
Also, happy birthday this fine St. Patrick’s Day to Hozier, who was on the Wiggles once, and has a new EP coming out this Friday. Please join me in not being the least bit normal about it. 
The bredlik that the Fairy vs. Walrus debate needed
“Started tone matching my Iraqi corner store guy,” bless everyone involved
A fanfic summary that will hit you like a brick to the face
“Intrigue, Ink, and Drama Grip the Fountain Pen Community”
The Arthur Conan Doyle approach to fic comments
The Kate Middleton Mysteries (”The extent to which this is not Philip Marlowe’s problem is unbelievable”)
Noted power couple/chaos elementals Merchant Ivory
Help improving color in your art
Doggust 2023: the art of Jonathan Wesslund  
Video
Honestly the best part of “I’m Just Ken” at the Oscars for me is Margot Robbie fighting for her life not to laugh
This domino project is honestly really upsetting to me, lmao (THE TIME IT MUST HAVE TAKEN!!)
Death: the bees told her
Puma chirps
A seal’s relaxing ice bath
The sacred texts
The reason we celebrate the Ides of March on Tumblr
Happy birthday to the Old as Balls gifset
A cat’s dating profile
Personal tag of the week
pixel art, because there are some incredible artists on here.
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kelpermoosee · 5 months
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I need to draw Booigi real soon, the lack of them is making me itchy
#kelperambles#uhhh pic is unrelated but I thought the paper luigi was cute 💖#anyways I just wanted to ramble about how much I love booigi LMAO#but like I need the very specific type of booigi that has been rotting in my brain in order to be satisfied#OKAY OKAY. picture this: Names are such an important thing to Luigi. Many people don’t tend to remember the bare minimum about him#so he really appreciates the few people who take enough time to remember his actual name or small things about him#then when King Boo pulls up he’s literally yelling Luigi’s name and cursing him out#sure while Luigi is still scared of him he can’t help but feel flattered that King Boo subconsciously respects him enough to call him Luigi#not green mario. not the man in green. just him…truly him.#and while Luigi might not want an designated enemy (like what Mario and bowser have)#the fact that king boo believes that Luigi is significant enough to be his enemy is something Luigi cannot ignore#King Boo acknowledges Luigi for his strengths in his weird theater kid way#but I can really see them growing closer together once Luigi discovers that King Boos plays everything up just to be DRAMATIC ✨✨#king boo WANTS luigi to react. and if he doesn’t get that he more or less just lets go of the act#like what’s the point of setting everything up if Luigi’s not even going to match his high energy?#honestly they just need to both RELAX for a second and they would really hit it off#it’s actually embarrassing. they’re so embarrassing.
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concert tickets are not an investment. hate how everything in this economy we’re like ‘ooh what if I buy it cheap then hike the price up and resell’ and it’s perfectly normal—it’s not. it’s not okay. what’s happening is you’re taking advantage of someone who’s really desperate to see this artist when if they wanna spend that money on the artist, the money should go to the artist themselves. who probably don’t change as much as they could because they’ve set a price that is financially sustainable for themselves and accessible to most who want to go not just the wealthy or those who don’t spend money on any other artists. and I’m not talking about if you can’t go to your concert and resell your ticket closer to it for like 25% more to get a bit back for all the time you spent waiting in queue for a concert you don’t even get to go to. the reason concert tickets are so hard to get is because there are people competing to buy them who are just gonna resell them for absurd amounts of money and honestly? as concertgoers and fans of artists we deserve better. our artists deserve better. they didn’t put a middleman in there. we don’t need it.
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fruitydiaz · 1 year
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just remembered buck’s going to (possibly) have a biological child
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#al talks#i KNOOWWW people have talked about this at length but i honestly haven’t given it much thought because i’m just#truly along for the ride this season i have no idea where we’re going i’m just trying to have fun#but.#like. there’s going to be baby out there. a whole human being. that shares his dna. a child. that he helped create.#what is that. how is that going to feel for him? i’m thinking about him getting excited to buy a sword and shield for jee#so he can help teach her that girls can be heroes too. how is he going to feel about a child that literally…is a Part of him#and he can’t do that with them he can’t help raise them or teach them about the world or share any of his life stories with them and GOD#does he have. so many. life stories. to share with his kids.#but he’s not kameron and connor’s baby’s dad. donor not dad!!!#the thing in their case is that it’s not an anonymous donation and they’re buck’s friends and they live close by so it’s not#unlikely that they’ll share pictures of their kid like when they’re first born or around the holidays or maybe at important milestones#and buck might see bits and pieces of him in them as they grow up. he might see his nose or his curls or his eyes.#the kid might be a fucking giant#and they’ll always be part him but never his#it’d be so…bittersweet for him#i don’t HATE this storyline i know a lot of people do but i don’t think kameron and connor are bad people#i don’t want anything bad to happen to them and at this point buck can’t buck out and i don’t#*back out. 😐 anyways. i don’t#want there to be any sort of health complications because i just…don’t think that’s what buck needs to learn#i just think this storyline is going to teach him that…he CAN get what he wants#he just has to be unafraid of it#he has to look it in the eye and go this is what i want for Me#not what i want to do for other people#and i’m going to go out and be proactive and brave about getting it. not take the ‘safest’ or most familiar route#i Think ultimately this baby will be a good thing for him but it’s going to hurt so bad when he realizes it’s what he wants but.#not like that#i also think this parallels eddie’s journey incredibly well showing how they both want the same things but go about getting them in just.#excruciatingly painful ways. but. i’m running out of tags so. thoughts for another time ig
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hecate-hollow · 5 months
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At some point Tim and Bruce set up a program to spot potential threats that progress through higher education within Gotham’s boarders. It’s not used often, but occasionally it tags someone that has a high risk of becoming a villain if left to their own devices.
Currently on their list is Danny “I’m away from home for the first time and no one can stop my feralness” Fenton. He’s moving through the astrophysics and engineering program like he specifically wrote it. Kids good with machines and even better at making them. Especially weapons. He’s really good with weapons. They’re harmless in nature, more personal security than mass terror, but it still concerning.
I quick look into his background and it all makes sense. Jack and Maddie are like…picture perfect mad scientists just by appearances and oh? Vlad Master’s is his godfather? Yeah that guys super sketch.
In the Wayne’s minds there’s time to rehabilitate this pour soul. He’s a genius yes, pretty sure they saw him manufacture a gas mask during the last scarecrow attack out of spare parts and some duct tape, but he’s predispositions to the “mad” part of genius.
So one day, Tim shows up after one of Danny’s lectures and introduces himself.
“I’m Tim Drake Wayne,” he greets, dressed in his usual college student casual. “Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises.”
“Danny Fenton,” Danny shakes his hand, “I know who you are. Got a friend who would die to be in my place right now. Has told me everything there is to know about you.” Which was a red flag. How much was everything and did Tim have another person to add to this list? Did they go to Gotham University as well? “To what do I owe this honor, Mr. Drake-Wayne.”
Danny had a boyish grin on his face that spelled mischief, and if the praise his teachers gave him during labs is anything to go by, mischief was probably his middle name.
“I’m here on behalf of Wayne Enterprises to offer you a position and or internship. Whichever you need first.” He pulled out two envelopes from his back pocket. “You’re in your 3rd year right? Internship is probably the best bet.”
“Is there a reason you’re offering me a position I didn’t apply for?” Danny asked. If there’s one thing the halfa had learned over his life it’s that rich people are not to be trusted. And a internship at THE top tech industry along the east coast? Yeah that’s too good to be true.
“Let’s just say some benefactors spoke on your behalf.”
“Pfft, no thanks then. Last time that happened I was elevated to king of an entire realm.” Tim blinked, looking for any kind of tell. Either Daniel James Fenton was a fantastic liar or he was telling the truth. Honestly Tim was almost too tired to care.
“So you don’t want the internship?”
“I want to know why I’m actually being offered the internship.” Danny watched Tim in a way that could only be described as searing. Like no matter what Tim would say he would know if it was the truth or a lie, and if he lied then there was no way Danny would accept the internship and they couldn’t force the kid to take the position. So Tim “I haven’t slept in a fortnight” Drake spoke the truth despite his training.
“You’re on a list of potential super villains and we want to make sure you have access to a positive non-toxic, non-mad environment in which you can explore and develop your obvious talent without evil influence so you don’t take it out on our city because all our rouge’s are crazy and there’s already too many of them and your background makes you predispositions to turning evil.”
Danny can’t help it. He starts laughing. “Predispositions to turning evil? Why because my parents are like…the textbook definition of mad scientists? This is rich. Oh wow! Wait until Jazz hears about this!” He doubles over laughing again while Tim just watches. He feels like people would be offended by this, But Danny just laughed and laughed.
“Tell ya what bird boy, I’ll accept your internship, but I promise you don’t have to worry about me turning evil. Been there, done that, destroyed the universe and then fixed it with time travel. I’ve got failsafes now. But that’s beside the point.” No it very much was not and Tim had questions. “My dream was to go to space, but I ended up in a lab accident as a kid that sorta ruined that for me health wise. My heart beats just a little too slow now, ya know?” Again, Tim did not know, but he certainly had more questions. “I may not be able to go to space but I can certainly still build the stuff that gets people out there, and that’s the plan in the long run. Maybe you can talk with big dark and furry and ask if he can let me work on their secret clubhouse in space for some extra experience?” Tim sobered up at that.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah and I’m not the king of the infinite realms.” He scoffed. “Send me a contract, I’ll have my family lawyer look over it.”
“Family lawyer?” Because why would a small town family need—
“My parents had a contract with the government and you don’t sign anything from them without someone going over it with a magnifying glass and a fine tooth comb. See ya round Drake-Wayne.”
With that Danny…disappeared. Either he was really fast or Tim was more tired than he realized. Either way he would count this outing as a win.
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fans4wga · 8 months
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"The studios thought they could handle a strike. They might end up sparking a revolution"
by Mary McNamara
"If you want to start a revolution, tell your workers you’d rather see them lose their homes than offer them fair wages. Then lecture them about how their “unrealistic” demands are “disruptive” to the industry, not to mention disturbing your revels at Versailles, er, Sun Valley.
Honestly, watching the studios turn one strike into two makes you wonder whether any of their executives have ever seen a movie or watched a television show. Scenes of rich overlords sipping Champagne and acting irritated while the crowd howls for bread rarely end well for the Champagne sippers.
This spring, it sometimes seemed like the Hollywood studios represented by the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers were actively itching for a writers’ strike. Speculations about why, exactly, ran the gamut: Perhaps it would save a little money in the short run and show the Writers Guild of America (perceived as cocky after its recent ability to force agents out of the packaging business) who’s boss.
More obviously, it might secure the least costly compromise on issues like residuals payments and transparency about viewership.
But the 20,000 members of the WGA are not the only people who, having had their lives and livelihoods upended by the streaming model, want fair pay and assurances about the use of artificial intelligence, among other sticking points. The 160,000 members of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists share many of the writers’ concerns. And recent unforced errors by studio executives, named and anonymous, have suddenly transformed a fight the studios were spoiling for into a public relations war they cannot win.
Even as SAG-AFTRA representatives were seeing a majority of their demands rejected despite a nearly unanimous strike vote, a Deadline story quoted unnamed executives detailing a strategy to bleed striking writers until they come crawling back.
Days later, when an actors’ strike seemed imminent, Disney Chief Executive Bob Iger took time away from the Sun Valley Conference in Idaho not to offer compromise but to lecture. He told CNBC’s David Faber that the unions’ refusal to help out the studios by taking a lesser deal is “very disturbing to me.”
“There’s a level of expectation that they have that is just not realistic,” Iger said. “And they are adding to the set of the challenges that this business is already facing that is, quite frankly, very disruptive.”
If Iger thought his attempt to exec-splain the situation would make actors think twice about walking out, he was very much mistaken. Instead, he handed SAG-AFTRA President Fran Drescher the perfect opportunity for the kind of speech usually shouted atop the barricades.
“We are the victims here,” she said Thursday, marking the start of the actors’ strike. “We are being victimized by a very greedy entity. I am shocked by the way the people that we have been in business with are treating us. I cannot believe it, quite frankly: How far apart we are on so many things. How they plead poverty, that they’re losing money left and right, when giving hundreds of millions of dollars to their CEOs. It is disgusting. Shame on them. They stand on the wrong side of history at this very moment.”
Cue the cascading strings of “Les Mis,” bolstered by images of the most famous people on the planet walking out in solidarity: the cast of “Oppenheimer” leaving the film’s London premiere; the writers and cast of “The X-Files” reuniting on the picket line.
A few days later, Barry Diller, chairman and senior executive of IAC and Expedia Group and a former Hollywood studio chief, suggested that studio executives and top-earning actors take a 25% pay cut to bring a quick end to the strikes and help prevent “the collapse of the entire industry.”
When Diller is telling executives to take a pay cut to avoid destroying their industry, it is no longer a strike, or even two strikes. It is a last-ditch attempt to prevent le déluge.
Yes, during the 2007-08 writers’ strike, picketers yelled noncomplimentary things at executives as they entered their respective lots. (“What you earnin’, Chernin?” was popular at Fox, where Peter Chernin was chairman and chief executive.) But that was before social media made everything more immediate, incendiary and personal. (Even if they have never seen a movie or TV show, one would think that people heading up media companies would understand how media actually work.)
Even at the most heated moments of the last writers’ strike, executives like Chernin and Iger were seen as people who could be reasoned with — in part because most of the executives were running studios, not conglomerations, but mostly because the pay gap between executives and workers, in Hollywood and across the country, had not yet widened to the reprehensible chasm it has since.
Now, the massive eight- and nine-figure salaries of studio heads alongside photos of pitiably small residual checks are paraded across legacy and social media like historical illustrations of monarchs growing fat as their people starve. Proof that, no matter how loudly the studios claim otherwise, there is plenty of money to go around.
Topping that list is Warner Bros. Discovery Chief Executive Davd Zaslav. Having re-named HBO Max just Max and made cuts to the beloved Turner Classic Movies, among other unpopular moves, Zaslav has become a symbol of the cold-hearted, highly compensated executive that the writers and actors are railing against.
The ferocious criticism of individual executives’ salaries has placed Hollywood’s labor conflict at the center of the conversation about growing wealth disparities in the U.S., which stokes, if not causes, much of this country’s political divisions. It also strengthens the solidarity among the WGA and SAG-AFTRA and with other groups, from hotel workers to UPS employees, in the midst of disputes during what’s been called a “hot labor summer.”
Unfortunately, the heightened antagonism between studio executives and union members also appears to leave little room for the kind of one-on-one negotiation that helped end the 2007-08 writers’ strike. Iger’s provocative statement, and the backlash it provoked, would seem to eliminate him as a potential elder statesman who could work with both sides to help broker a deal.
Absent Diller and his “cut your damn salaries” plan, there are few Hollywood figures with the kind of experience, reputation and relationships to fill the vacuum.
At this point, the only real solution has been offered by actor Mark Ruffalo, who recently suggested that workers seize the means of production by getting back into the indie business, which is difficult to imagine and not much help for those working in television.
It’s the AMPTP that needs to heed Iger’s admonishment. At a time when the entertainment industry is going through so much disruption, two strikes is the last thing anyone needs, especially when the solution is so simple. If the studios don’t want a full-blown revolution on their hands, they’d be smart to give members of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA contracts they can live with."
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zillychu · 3 months
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I’ve gotten a WAVE of asks about this AU, so I decided to flesh it out some more and answer some of those questions!
I’ll probably polish this extended summary up at some point and submit it to AO3. But for now, here’s a rundown of my thoughts–please feel free to send more questions! I’ll update this post if I get any more. But if you’re someone who wanted to write fic for it, don’t worry, you don’t need to take my headcanons as gospel. It’s a pretty basic AU honestly lol
Summary:
The portal accident results in a violent explosion that wipes out the whole block, and condemns all of Amity Park. Danny haunts the city for 100 years, before Sam and Tucker find him. 
Setup:
In the 1920’s, 19-year-old Danny went into the incomplete portal on his own, hoping to help out his parents. Ripping the portal open through unnatural means created a huge burst of energy that resulted in a massive explosion. A good portion of the Amity Park population died, many were injured, and the ones on the fringes relocated–Amity was quickly deemed too dangerous due to the excess ectoplasm in the area that attracted ghosts. 
While the disaster was in Amity, the fallout was seen around the globe. Before, natural portals were rare, short-lived, and rarely allowed ghosts to fully slip into our realm (the most severe cases being on par with poltergeists that most people didn’t believe in). Now, natural portals pop open frequently around the world, large enough to allow the entirety of a ghost into the physical plane. They’re more common the closer you get to Amity, but they happen enough elsewhere that this change was something of a small apocalypse before people settled back down and found out how to combat at least some of their new, permanent neighbors. 
Danny is unaware that he’s only half-dead, believing he’s a full ghost. He ends up sticking around Amity, unintentionally making it his haunt. His grief and guilt over causing the death of his loved ones (and many others) makes him isolate and avoid human contact. Though he has, at times, scared nosy people away from the city in a mix of territorial instinct–and to get them to leave before a less friendly ghost finds them. 
Ghosts are much more of an uncontested danger in this AU. Lesser ghosts are practically mindless, and while stronger ghosts are capable of reason, their interests are limited. They’re highly territorial, possessive, and often destructive. Most worrisome is that they also like to snack on the life force of anything alive. No one is sure what dictates a ghost’s propensity to attack or hunt the living for their life force since ghosts don’t exactly experience hunger. At least, not the way we do. If a human is rescued before their life force is fully drained, they can make a full recovery–though humanity has still not yet found what this “life force" is. 
And since the Fentons’ research died along with them, there aren’t many tools available to the public to protect them from ghosts. Most homes have standard ghost shields and some weapons are available on the market, but certified ghost hunters are required to take care of anything more powerful than your average spook. 
Sam and Tucker met in high school, and are now rooming together for college very close to the Amity border. Rent is surprisingly cheap when you’re a stone’s throw away from a condemned area crawling with ghosts. Sam is the one who drags Tucker along with her fascination over finding out more about the city, and its largely mysterious demise. Sam is aware of the danger, but feels ghosts have a place in this world just like everything else, and does exercise caution–like one would while foraging in the woods with a known tiger population. 
What she and Tucker weren’t expecting was to run into a ghost that felt almost human. One that hasn't hurt them, not for lack of trying–while being powerful enough to walk past ghost shields without so much as a flinch. The long white hair is familiar in the whispers of the ectobiologist community, but there’s no way it could be the rumored ghost king Phantom, right?
About Danny:
He has very long hair, claws, and black sclera. His hazmat suit is more torn and ragged, with exposed hands and feet that fade into a burnt black.
His hair tends to float a lot on its own. It can start morphing into fire under duress. 
He does still technically have gloves and boots, they've just charred and melted into his skin towards the ends. He can't take them off in his ghost form. His hands and feet have a leathery texture that's tougher than the rest of his skin.
The white of his hazmat suit is both supposed to look like flames, and also a battered look representing his more violent, explosive death.
Overall, he appears rather listless and sad, with an unnerving air of danger around him–even for a ghost. 
Danny’s “ghost sense” comes out as white smoke.
He does breathe black smoke at times, usually when agitated. 
He's already fought and defeated Pariah Dark by the time Sam and Tucker find him, technically making him the Ghost King. This is heavily speculated by ghost experts, despite there being no real proof beyond a massive battle that scarred Illinois. He has not donned the Ring or the Crown, and captured sentient ghosts are hesitant to answer questions surrounding him. Danny basically has the throne but doesn’t do anything with it, and finds it meaningless enough to routinely forget he has the title. He only fought Pariah because he knew otherwise, humanity would have perished. A lot of ghosts are scared of him because he's so hard to figure out, and he's strong. 
Danny is usually very quiet and speaks softly, because his lungs were damaged in the blaze that half-killed him. He's technically healed since becoming a ghost, so it's more of a compulsion due to the traumatic memory. That, and he’s just… very forlorn and distant, shy around humans who don’t seem to understand how dangerous it is to keep hanging around him.
His memories pre-accident are extremely fuzzy. He knows the very basics of who he was, but specifics have been muffled due to trauma and isolation. He routinely forgets human habits, etiquette, etc. and tends to act more like a full ghost with some odd quirks. 
He does try to scare Sam and Tucker off numerous times. Unfortunately for him, they realized they shouldn't have been able to escape a ghost that strong–but they did, because he let them. 
Sam and Tucker think he's mute at first! He doesn't speak a word to them until several encounters later, when he fumbles his whole scary act and saves them from another ghost. 
He’s still half-ghost, though he doesn’t figure this out until Sam and Tucker come along trying to unravel the mysteries behind the Amity catastrophe. Physically and emotionally, he’s been stuck for 100 years–so his human form is still 19. It’s unclear at this point if he can age normally like a human as long as he stays in human form, or if he’s immortal. 
Danny's family did not turn into ghosts, though he sometimes worries he'll find them in the afterlife as shells of their former selves. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he's not sure he'd recognize them. 
(Danny also still has some living family. Take a guess.)
Yes, he knows how to Wail. Understandably, he very rarely uses it. You do not want to witness this.
Danny :) is not immune :) from the allure of eating a human's life force :)))
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clairenatural · 4 months
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Dean doesn't like the word "boyfriend." He decides this the second time Cas says it–the first time it was new, shiny, exciting. The second time, he fights the urge to cringe.
It's not the "boy" part. It's not. It would have been, for a long time, but he's dug all that shit up and unpacked all the suitcases. They hold hands in public. They kiss goodbye in front of his coworkers at the garage.
It's just–not enough. Not nearly. Jack comes home from hanging out with his friends and fills Dean on the gossip and his boyfriend and her girlfriend and–that's not them. "Boyfriend" feels like a cheap mockery. Like how demons used to tease.
He's heard "partner." He's heard it from Sam, to Eileen, but he doesn't know how he can stomach it. He's said that word too many times. I'm Agent Tyler and this is my partner, Agent Perry. This is my partner, Agent Page. My partner, Agent Stills. All lies. Sam says he likes it, that he's making it mean something real. Besides, Eileen loves it.
Good for them, Dean thinks. It makes his skin crawl.
So he sticks with “boyfriend” and he shrugs off the funny urge to protest every time Cas says it. It makes him happy, and honestly, it’s not like he has an alternative.
It’s a Sunday when he realizes that somehow, Cas does. They’re at the farmer’s market, like Cas is every weekend, but Dean had picked up weekend shifts and missed the past few. Cas is excited the whole way there, telling Dean about how he’d manage to befriend the local honey vendor in his absence, how she’d invited him to a beginner’s apiarist group she helps run. They beeline (heh) to the honey booth as soon as they get there, and the woman--Judith? Janice?--smiles up at them both, hands Cas a jar of honey like she’d been expecting him, and says “Oh, this must be the husband! I’ve heard so much about you.”
Dean stares at Cas. Cas stares at the honey. Judith/Janice stares at both of them, smile fading as the silence goes on a beat too long. 
Dean clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. The husband, that’s me! Ha ha.” Beside him, Cas relaxes, just barely. In front of him, the woman breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Sorry,” Dean shifts. “Just didn’t, um. Realize I was such a hot topic.” 
The smile he gets is almost sympathetic. “Oh, only good things. Here,” she hands him a business card. “You should also come out to our meeting on Wednesday. Lots of people bring their partners.” She leans in, almost conspiratorial. “Beekeeping can be wonderful for couples.”
It’s at this point that Cas clears his throat and finally looks up from the honey in his hand, evidently giving up hope on escaping this conversation. “Thank you, Janet.” (oh. Janet.) “Dean works late on Wednesdays, but I’m very excited to see you all.” He’s pulling out money as he says this, apparently deciding to just go ahead and end the entire interaction. He hands her the bills, grabs Dean’s hand, and is already moving away from the booth by the time Janet calls “See you Wednesday!” after them.
Cas drags him all the way back to the car without stopping for tomatoes, or Sam's carrots, or the free-range eggs that are way too expensive but Cas buys anyway because you can taste when the hen is well cared-for, Dean (whatever that means). They slide into the car, still not talking, and sit in silence for several long seconds. Dean stares at Cas, who stares out the windshield at the parking lot.
"I can explain," Cas speaks, finally, right as Dean was about to open his mouth and say anything to break the silence.
Dean pauses. Can you? Cause I feel like I missed a few chapters, he thinks.
"I don't work late on Wednesdays," he says instead.
"Oh." Now it's Cas staring at Dean, and Dean staring out at the asphalt.
He turns the keys. He drives them home.
Later, making dinner, Dean rolls the word around in his head. Husband. He's making his husband pasta (It's missing the tomatoes. He's made more with less).
Husband doesn't feel like a costume, like an ill-fitting suit and scratchy tie. It doesn't feel like high school gossip, or a monster trying to hit him where it hurts. It settles in warm in his chest.
It's just the two of them that night, and they're eating in the comfortable silence of the bunker until Dean clears his throat and brings it up. "Why does Janet at the farmer's market think we're married?"
Cas pauses, fork of pasta halfway to his mouth. He puts the fork down and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not mad," Dean hurries to clarify. "It's just that there's usually, uh. Steps, you know. Like a whole....thing."
"I'm aware." Cas sighs. "She assumed, seeing us around - the first time I spoke to her without you, she asked where my husband was. And I..."
"You didn't correct her?"
"...No. I, um." Cas is looking down at his plate again. He picks up the fork, still half-full of pasta, then puts it back down again. "I didn't want to?" He says the end of the sentence like a question but looks back up at Dean and squints just a bit, and Dean knows he's watching for a reaction.
"Uh huh."
"It felt trivial."
"To tell her we're not married?"
"To call you my boyfriend." For the first time, he stumbles over the word.
Dean blinks. "You--" he stops, brain processing too much information to finish that sentence. "Okay." He leans back in his chair. Sighs. Rubs a hand across his eyes and lets it drag down his face. "Okay, listen. I don't like boyfriend either, but we gotta...talk about it."
"We are talking about it. You don't like it either?" Cas leans forward as Dean slumps back, following him across the table.
Dean snorts. "No, man." He shakes his head. "It's been a decade. I've seen you die." Six times. But who's counting.
"I agree." Cas pauses, and then, as if it's the most natural conclusion in the world, "Will you marry me?"
Dean actually laughs at this. "You're asking me that now?"
Cas quirks an eyebrow at him. "I've grown quite fond of calling you my husband at the farmer's market. I'd like to continue."
Dean stares at him in disbelief. It's not how he'd pictured it going, but he also can't think of it going any other way. Slowly, he nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's be husbands."
Across the table, Cas grins at him.
"But we're getting rings," Dean points a finger at him, because something about this is going to be normal.
"If you'd like. Although I already told Janet that you can't wear a ring because of your work at the garage, and I don't wear mine in solidarity."
"Rings," Dean insists, and decides to overlook the rest of that sentence. For now. He stabs his fork into a pile of the pasta. "And let me stop for the damn tomatoes next time."
They get rings and wear them on chains around their necks. Cas puts a beehive on the hill, and there's a small ceremony in the summer - a "vow renewal" to Cas' beekeeping group, who all receive invites attached to little jars of honey. Janet gets the nicest one.
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afloweroutofstone · 2 months
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What can the US do to deescalate the siege on Gaza unilaterally? It comes down to Netanyahu and his Gov at the end of the day, no? Would conditioning aid do anything? It honestly looks like they’re to ideologically committed to ethnic cleansing no matter what. The funding at least gets them a seat at the table in what Israel does
The Israeli government is deeply reliant on the US government in a way that gives the US a massive amount of leverage. Most people fail to understand just how far US foreign policy goes to support the Israeli government. Because the Israeli government's current activities would not be possible without US support, the US is the only world power with the ability to stop the Israeli siege on Gaza.
Here are various forms of US government support for the Israeli government which could be used to pressure them into a ceasefire:
Military aid. The US provides Israel with roughly $3.3 billion a year in military aid, equivalent to about 16% of the entire Israeli defense budget. While US military aid is normally required to be spent on US-made weapons, Israel has historically been allowed to use part of its aid on its own weapons industry (a subsidy for the Israeli military-industrial complex which the US is currently phasing out). This aid comes despite the fact that it violates the inconsistently-enforced Leahy Laws against providing US aid to known human rights abusers.
Arms exports. From 2018-2022, 79% of Israeli weapons imports came from the US, much of it funded by our military aid. This includes thousands of bombs and missiles, dozens of aircraft, and nearly 400 armored personnel carriers. The Israeli government also buys large amounts of US weapons directly from weapons companies through the Direct Commercial Sales process— $5.7 billion worth from 2018-2022.
Military ties. The US government has 12 active defense agreements with Israel and a memorandum of understanding on military aid lasting until 2028, has designated Israel as a Major Non-NATO Ally, meets with the Israeli government once every two years for planning and strategy discussions, and conducts regular training exercises with the Israeli military (Juniper Oak and Juniper Falcon).
Direct military support. The US uses its military power to support Israeli objectives, as the last couple of months have shown. The US Navy stationed an aircraft carrier in the eastern Mediterranean Sea for several months to deter Hezbollah from getting involved in last year's violence, and is now involved in active hostilities against the Houthis in Yemen in response to their trade blockade.
Diplomatic support. The US votes in agreement with Israel at the United Nations more than any other country in the modern era. Israel's next three largest supporters at the UN are small island nations which are satellite states of the US. Many supporters of Israel do so only to curry favor with the US; without this, Israel would be even more isolated than it is now. The United States has used its veto power in the UN Security Council to defend Israel 34 times, most recently in October 2023. The US also has a policy of automatically defunding any UN agency which recognizes Palestine.
Trade Relations. The US has a free trade agreement with Israel and is one of its largest trading partners. In 2021, 27% of Israeli exports went to the US, and 9% of Israeli imports came from the US. Israel has a trade surplus with the US that helps to offset its overall trade deficit; if all trade with the US were to cease, the Israeli trade deficit would increase by 27%, with major repercussions for its entire economy.
US domestic politics. The US has adopted a handful of policies which tilt its internal political field in favor of the Israeli government: laws repressing the BDS movement, the refusal to hold the Israeli government accountable for surveillance campaigns in the US, etc., etc.
If the US government wanted to, it could deprive Israel of a large portion of its defense budget, cut off the flow of weapons and munitions which enable their attacks on Gaza, isolate it from its closest military ally, leave it defenseless against overwhelming diplomatic opposition around the world, severely upset its export-import economy, and expose the nation to increased scrutiny within the world's most powerful nation. If even a fraction of these moves were attempted, it would be enough to force the Israeli government to change course, and it would also likely be enough to topple Netanyahu's already-tenuous grasp on power.
Biden can't do most of this unilaterally— most of it would require congressional approval. But that doesn't mean he's powerless: foreign policy is the one area where the President has the most power to act without congress.
It was Biden's choice to veto the UN resolution calling for a ceasefire, to send new Navy forces into the region, and to bypass congress for Israeli arms sales. Biden could chose to act differently in all of these areas, and he could also suspend joint military exercises, launch an investigation into whether US military aid violates Leahy Laws, etc. Even threatening to take these actions could be enough to convince the Israeli government to negotiate for a serious, lasting ceasefire.
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gothy-froggy · 6 months
Text
Astarion Headcanons
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Fluff dating headcanons
This man deserves it. Astarion x Gn! Reader
(Bg3 Astarion spoilers?) + not proofread
As we know that Astarion is not used to this kind of treatment or care. For 200 years he used his body to lure people for his master. And was treated poorly on top of that. This is something he isn’t used to.
Small physical touch
A simple squeeze of the arm, putting a hand over his, Astarion craves for it.
They’re so simple, yet, holds so much meaning.
Such pure and innocent intentions behind them. Intimate, not sexually. Just so much emotion and such a strong connection from a simple touch.
He likes it.
Even a simple, quick or a lingering kiss is just so nice. Astarion has kissed, slept, and held many, but not like this. It’s quite exciting.
The feeling of his beloved’s finger softly running through his hair got a sigh of content out of Astarion. His eyes fluttered closed. The way the their fingers goes through his curls, barely scratching his scalp. It was peaceful.
This was peaceful.
“Star.” They whispered. Astarion opened his eyes. He sat up from laying on their lap, facing his partner. A shaky breath aired out as his eyes shut as they placed their hands on his cheeks, brushing along his jawline. No words were exchanged. None had to.
Their feelings, thoughts, and love for each other were so loud despite not one opened one’s mouth.
No words could describe how much they cared for another.
Astarion grew to return such acts with the intention and his feelings being present. It was difficult at first. It was…odd for him. It was either awkward in his mind, or the spiral to disgust and the feeling of tainted leaking through the cracks of his heart and mind, perhaps his soul at well.
But the reassurance from his lover always pulled him back.
Nicknames
The nickname given to him? Star. It was definitely a shock to him hearing that as his nickname. He can’t help but be a little flustered.
He loves it. Astarion would live for it. Astarion loved it even more once he figured out the reason why his lover calls him Star.
Of course, he calls his dear, love, treasure, other sweet pet names, but the one his love gave him doesn’t seem to be defeated.
The night was chilling as the stars twinkled, dancing in the moonlight. Astarion sat on a big rock with his lover. Their gaze focused on the balls of light in the dark sky. Astarion’s was locked onto them.
“Do tell, my dear. Why ‘Star’ as my nickname?” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. Their eyes meets his, a small, gentle smile appearing on their face.
“Your name has star in it. A-s-t-a-r-i-o-n. Stars twinkle, they’re beautiful , like you.” Astarion let out a huff. Perhaps a small scoff.
“Well, I am beautiful.” A charming smile plastered over his face. His lover laughed, placing a hand over his as they leaned forward.
“You’re my star.” They whispered, pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. Astarion paused, processing their words and the simple touches.
“You really are full of surprises.” Astarion whispered.
‘Their Star.’ He thought. It brought swirls of warmth inside his chest
Astarion’s love for the pet name Star becomes addictive. He gets slightly annoyed and disappointed when his partner doesn’t call him Star.
Hell, his treasure could even make him beg to be called Star if they wanted to.
It honestly irritates him how much he enjoys the silly little pet name. They really don’t hold much value or worth anything…or is that him and enslavement to Casador for centuries?
Nether the less, his love is here to show him what real is. What true love really is.
Perhaps the pet name is a spark of light for him.
His comfort (lover’s scent and warmth)
Nothing is more precious than holding someone with such passion. True passion.
Astarion struggled most on this. Surprising as it is, but the comfort involves holding someone. Being so close to their body with trust, letting your guard down,
But getting comfortable with having comfort is the most troublesome.
The fear of it being taken away becomes dread.
His nightmares are over, but they still plague his mind, making it hard to break through and open up. After a while, he did. He regrets not being able to break through before.
Whether it was a nightmare, or the utter crave of affection and his comfort, he always gets it. Astarion creeps into the tent, sliding an arm under his love’s, wrapped around their waist and pulling them close.
He presses his face into their neck, taking a slow and small sniff. Just smelling their scent, not just their blood, brought so much warmth and comfort. The warmth, the feeling of their body made all his stress move away. Astarion smiled to himself, pressing a lingering kiss on his lover’s shoulder, before whispering:
“Wherever you go, wherever you are..” Astarion paused, hesitant to continue as the fear and feeling of disgust creeps back in. Trying to pull him back to what he knows. Yet he fights it. The arm around their waist caused a small squeeze as he took a shaky breath before continuing.
“Is forever my home.” He whispered, forcing them out and choking over his words out.
“You are my true home.”
Maybe, just maybe, the fight for something new is worth it.
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spicy-apple-pie · 5 months
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I WANNA HEAR ABOUT THE COMIC >:))))))
I did warn you…
Okay so idk if a lot of people know this, but Damian was originally given up for adoption right after he was born before his story was reconned.
So in this comic, Damian is 9 years old and in the foster system in Gotham, unknowing who his parents are. He’s never stays long in a home because he’s very aggressive. He’s smart though, so he orders a DNA testing kit to hopefully find a relative to take him. Imagine his shock when he finds out his father is Bruce Wayne.
So this 9 year old walks into WE by himself, toddles up to the secretary, and asks to see Bruce Wayne. The secretary is like “haha okay, let me help you find your parents.” And Damian is like “you can. My dad is Bruce Wayne.”
And then Tim shows up!! And he’s like, “who’s your dad?”
And Damian is suddenly really nervous and shyly passes Tim the DNA test results. Tim looks them over, and Damian thinks he’s going to get turned away. But then Tim smiles at him and asks him if he has time for a drink.
Damian basically explains his life story over a cup of hot chocolate to Tim. Tim listens and tells him that he’ll make sure Bruce sees it and gives him his number if he has any questions (Damian doesn’t have a phone). Damian gets up to throw out his cup but Tim is like “oh I can throw that out for you. Talk to you soon!”
Cut to the BatCave where Bruce is staring at the DNA test results. Showing him and Talia as the parents. Tim stands behind him. “I doubled and tripled checked.” He says. “Not to mention he’s the spitting image of you.” He mumbles under his breath, knowing that Bruce isn’t in the mood for jokes right now. Alfred places some Tylenol beside Bruce using his butler powers to sense his on coming headache.
“And you said he walked into the lobby by self?” Bruce asked.
“Yeah, he said he took the bus.”
“Oh dear,” Alfred comments, “that is certainly not safe for a boy his age in Gotham. I wonder if his social worker knows about that…”
So the next morning, Damian finds that he’s out of custody from his foster parents. And he’s like “but I didn’t do anything this time!” And his social workers like “no, they’re getting charged with child endangerment. We already have a place lined up for you.”
Lo and behold, his new foster home is Wayne Manor. And he meets Bruce for the first time and he’s really nervous. And Bruce has to turn away because he almost starts crying. And Damian asks Alfred if he did something wrong and Alfred’s like “no, he’s just very happy to see you.”
And that’s basically it. But I also have this idea of how he discovers his Dad is Batman.
He comes downstairs in the early morning for a snack before going back to sleep to find Red Hood raiding their fridge. He runs to Bruce and he’s freaking because fucking RED HOOD broke into their house.
And Bruce groans and is mildly annoyed about and Damian is like “???? Does this happen often????” Bruce brings him downstairs and Red Hood is still there, but making a grilled cheese with his helmet off.
“Jay, how many times do we need to tell you know masks in the house?”
“I dunno. How many fucking children are you going to adopt?” He gestures to Damian hiding behind Bruce.
“He doesn’t know yet, Jay. I was going to wait until he was more comfortable.”
Jason is a little sheepish because he did give the kid a bit of a fright, so he turns around to apologize and introduce himself. And instantly is like “holy shit, that’s a bio kid.”
“Language, Jay…”
“Don’t language me, where the fuck did he come from???”
“What is happening??!!” Damian finally yells.
And then Bruce shows him the BatCave.
I did warn you I’d talk your ear off. I came up with this circa. 2018 - 2019 but I feel like I finally have the skill to draw it. And I honestly fell in love with it again, so I might lol.
Edit: I did it
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kairoot · 5 months
Text
ENHYPEN, s/o who wears glasses
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𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : none really, jokes
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 : none
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : enha x gn!reader
author’s note : where my glasses pookies at?!? 😔
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ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐥𝐡𝐬.
honestly thinks you’re so cute
obviously without your glasses you’re still cute but he thinks they make you look even more adorable
literally gushes over you
he tries to help you be careful with them
he’ll remind you to take them if you’re forgetting them for work or class or smth
“baby, don’t forget your glasses, okay?”
loves how they come down your nose when you’re really focused or just in general
wears his glasses around the house so you two can match (even if they aren’t the exact same frames)
he loves when your frames get pushed all against your nose when he kisses you , thinks it’s cute (idk it’s heeseung)
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐣𝐣𝐩.
the responsible one out of the two of you
makes sure you’re extra careful
tells you not to fall asleep with them on
..you do the exact opposite of what he said
he takes them off for you when you do (+ a little kiss on the nose cause you look too cute while sleeping :< )
he goes out of his way to prevent you from breaking those things
“y/n, if you break those, i’m not buying you a new pair.”
ends up buying you a new pair
might even buy a matching set for himself
cleans them for you
makes sure you’re wearing them at all times
“babe, you know you can’t see so just put them on.”
you comply :(
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐣𝐬.
literally LOVES glasses on you
another one that thinks you look so stinkin adorable
he’s there at the eye doctor, when you first get them
is so scared for you when you have to do the puff test 😭
“babe, what if it takes your eye out or something-“
“jake, it’s just air 🙁”
helps you pick out the frames
he’s actually got really great taste
is the “how many fingers am i holding up?” type
he has so many pics of you with your glasses
and of you and him with matching frames
you have to keep them away from him cause he can be really.. clumsy
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐩𝐬𝐡.
im not even gonna lie to you, he calls you a nerd
but in an affectionate way of course
makes sure you're wearing them at all times even if you don't like them
"hoon, pls i hate them sm, they make me look like a nerd 🙁"
"so? you need them. and you're my nerd."
surprisingly, he’s way more responsible than you
another one who’s extremely careful with them and makes sure you are as well
secretly thinks you’re so attractive with them
it’s kind of not a secret though cause you see him stare at you a lot more when you wear them vs when you don’t
either way you’re cute, doesn’t really matter to him
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐤𝐬𝐰.
another one that loves glasses on you
a lot of the times , people see glasses as something to be insecure about but sunoo doesn’t really think much about it
of course he notices them but he thinks they add character
he buys a matching pair just like jay
he definitely likes to study with you just so you can match (idk it just sounds so cute)
loads of cute library selcas with you
i feel like he’d buy you all types of different frame styles
he likes taking pics with your glasses even though you tell him it’ll hurt his eyes
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐲𝐣𝐰.
‘how many fingers am i holding up’ pt 2.
also cleans them for you pt 2.
adjusts them for you if the slide down your nose or if they’re all the way against your face
he always says they compliment your eyes
he’s just so 🥹💔
mocks how you squint when you don’t have them on 😭
definitely helps you pick them out
he tries the different pairs on with you when you’re at the eye doctor
don’t tell him you like more than one pair cause then he’s gonna get all of them for you
“jungwon, seriously, it’s okay I’ll just get these-“
“where’s the other pair you liked?”
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ 𝐧𝐫𝐤.
calls you a nerd pt 2.
takes your glasses cause he knows you can’t see without them 💀
WILL NOT give them back until you give him a kiss
it’s giving “where my hug at?” 🤨
other than that, he loves the way they look on you
pretends he doesn’t know you when you walk out of the doctors’ office with your new frames
“who is that fine babe 😩”
niki.. sthu🧍🏽‍♀️
wears his glasses more often because of you (have yall seen that boy in glasses ??? omg 😫😫)
ngl he’s probably the reason you break them
too much roughhousing
“RIKI OMG-“
will definitely buy you a new pair
+ free kisses n food cause he didn’t mean to do it :/
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author’s note: im sorry this is so short. also, if i see another enha tour clip i just might jump into a lake (i can’t swim)
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