With your tears streaming down your face that could fill an ocean come to me with your shattered hope and broken dreams.....
I know your heart is broken like the indistinguishable mosaics discovered on the floor underneath what once was a stained-glass treasure. You wonder if there is any hope for putting your life back together again. All you have left are the memories of what could have been in your life......
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Dilemma
You woke up one dayAnd felt life was ignoring youYou felt enough was enoughAnd that you had to retaliateYou felt that you’ve not done enoughSo you have to go to war with youDragging your ass out of your flatAnd drown you in the poolThat is life.
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the best part about comics and fics where the batkids have to fight a mind controlled Bruce is the inevitable "oh shit" moment when they realize that every single spar with Bruce over the years -- even the ones where they were sparring at full force -- was against a Bruce who still held himself back in some way. because those are his kids.
a Bruce who doesn't care about them is terrifying.
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Jason gets so pussydrunk and it doesn’t take much at all. Like you’re talking to him while sitting down in a dress. You don’t think anything of it, you’re just getting more comfortable, so you open your legs. His gaze drops as your legs uncross and his eyes never leave you. His face goes bright red. Without warning, he rushes forward and falls to his knees. He thumbs at the seams of your underwear. “Please.” When you nod your head, he tugs them down your legs reverently. He kisses all over your thighs, leaving you speechless. Unacceptable. “Keep talking, baby. I wanna hear your voice. I need it.” His voice is whiny and he makes no move to hide it. His kisses trail closer and closer to where you want him, but right before he gets there, you lace your fingers through his hair and tug him back, making him let out a sound that you wish you had recorded. He needs to beg for it. You can see the thought click in his clouded eyes. Despite not having touched your pussy yet, he’s breathless. “I’ll be good. I’ll be so good. Please. I’ll be so good for you.” You push his face into your cunt and you can feel the vibrations of his moan, you take it as an excuse to grind into his face. Call him your slut, he'd like it.
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i feel like im in a weird demographic when it comes to the percy jackson live action series because of the age i was when i read them. cause i read the lightning thief for the first time when i was in single digits, so percy being twelve seemed appropriately grown up. and then as i got further into the series and into heroes of olympus, percy got older with me, and was always kinda broadly my age or a little older. so like, the movie cast was too old when that happened, because they were way older than me. but now the series cast is actual twelve year olds (or so) and they are so obviously just little babies that im now forced to confront the fact that uhhh percy was in fact a fuckin child when all this started??? exCUSE ME???
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When Danny decides to reincarnate, centuries after his adventures, he chooses a random Dimension of Heroes and Villains.
He's expecting adventure! Heroics! A life worth bragging about in the Afterlife!
He wakes up in a tube, staring down at surprised teen heroes as they release him and another person.
Later, he finds out that he's a clone of Batman and Superman, and the other clone is of Superman and Lex Luthor.
He came into this world expecting adventures, not a weird custody battle about him and his brother (because that's what Conner is) between two A-List superheroes.
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Back at it again with my Danny is mom coded au’s, but this time it’s because of Clockwork that he suddenly has a whole ass teenage kid.
Clockwork had been bored or maybe he was playing a game against an opponent, or even lost a bet, whatever it was, he stepped in right as Jason was searching for his biological mother.
The DNA that would have registered itself as one Sheila Haywood, confirming Jason’s mother, glitched a terrible green across the screens of the batcomputer.
In those few moments of chaos Jason’s heart beat rapidly as he tried to figure out why the computer wasn’t working, wondering if his only chance to find his mom — his blood mom — would never find success.
Then as suddenly as things went wrong the DNA settled and pinged.
Jason watched, his chest tight, as one Danny C. Works, formerly Danny Fenton appeared onto the big screen.
Danny looked a lot like Jason, short cut black hair more straight than the subtle curls of Jason’s own; deep blue eyes, tired in a way that spoke of long days and nights, but with a warm happiness that made the familiar smile — the one Jason would see on himself every time he looked into the mirror — even more striking.
Jason didn’t linger too long on the male identifying gender, nor the fact his mom leaned more towards a masculine name or clothing.
There were plenty of male to female, and female to male leaning individuals that lived in Crime Alley. He had seen it enough to not even bat an eye at it, even now. After all, in Gotham you minded your business least you find yourself in business you can’t leave.
On a different monitor information of Danny C. Works piled for Jason to quickly browse through.
Danny was a senior engineer, no intimate relationships, and with no close connections to family outside of the tentative calls from Jasmine Fenton.
Danny was estranged from Jack and Madeline Fenton, a falling out that had occurred just a little before Danny’s high school graduation. If Jason calculated it correctly that would have been — around the season Jason himself would have been born.
Okay, so no grandparents then but I might have a maybe aunt. Jason scrolled further and stilled.
Twin toddlers: Dante and Danielle Works.
Jason had baby siblings.
He doesn’t let the sting of younger siblings consume him, doesn’t allow the whispering thoughts of why he had been given up when his younger siblings had been kept and so very obviously loved.
Jason took deep breathes, he didn’t have time to linger here. He had a family to get to, and a family he would get to.
It took almost all night to reach, the starlight night sky slowly and surely fading into cloudy wine as the sun rose, but Jason made it.
And when the door opened to his hesitant but firm knock, Jason was unable to speak. His mom — dad, maybe? Did they want to be mom or dad? — stood in the doorway, brows furrowed in confusion.
It was when Danny spoke his vigilante name did Jason only just realize that he was still dressed to the nine’s in his Robin costume.
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as well as being incredibly misogynistic and demeaning, "catfight" just isn't an accurate term for what's being described most of the time. if you refer to two women fighting as a "catfight" i'd better see them growling at each other with blood under their nails and deep jagged scratches carved into their skin where they tried to disembowel each other with their bare hands. they'd better be tearing out chunks of each other's flesh with their bloodstained teeth and trying to gouge each other's eyes out. if you're going to be a sexist loser you can at least do us real sicknasty perverts the favour of not half-assing it.
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"Basically what happens is, Grace and Max are right about to win. They're right about to do it. And then, there's a groaning. In the floorboards. Suddenly, the staircase gives out beneath Grace and Max, and they fall through the floors. They fall stories. Pieces of wood shove through their chests, and they both are killed."
"But keep this in mind, nothing truly dies in the Waylon house. Grace and Max become ghosts, and they're off doing whatever, but they're no longer involved in the tournament."
So.. that Pit Stop in Hatchetfield tag team deathmatch huh.
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