i used to be so good at writing strong, thoroughly-researched, thoroughly-edited essays.
as a kid in hs, my teacher literally came up to me, holding my 40 page essay on the intersection of the European witch hunts and capitalism/exploitation/gender roles (it was supposed to be 7 pages...whoops) and went like "this is literally a master's-degree level thesis. what are you doing?? you could literally use this as your final dissertation in a master's program, what the fuck."
NOW??? NOW?? you'd think I'd be oh so skilled. but alas. i can barely piece together two ideas. adhd skill-regression is so so real. im SOBBING
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How's Belphegor settling in? I've only interacted with once-stray kittens, so I'm used to them being terrified at first! I imagine it's different with hand-raised ones.
hour one of getting home, Belphegor didn't care about people. only ball
hour two, I had to use the bathroom and Belphegor started SCREAMING at being left alone. this tuckered him out, and by the time I got back, he'd passed out on a blanket. less than 3 minutes had elapsed.
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Need more of you kinky fucks to talk about how fucking good it is to be mutually subby with someone. The desperate whiny humping, the drooling and moaning into each other's mouths as we dumbly make out, the biting and scratching and needy groping, and making a pretty mess of cum on each other
Really just euphoric to cuddle and hump away, two dumb horny pets moaning and whining please at each other, both being such good fucking pets as we cum at the same time, whining and whispering I love you and falling asleep in each other's arms, all spent and fucked out in each other's cum
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i know that chilchuck saying there's not much interesting for him to say about his daughters and then saying, like, two sentences about each is Very In Character but what would have been funnier is if he was like. hm. it's not very interesting. and then smash cutting to, like, five hours later and he's still going on about them (marcille listens attentively with sparkly eyes. we've done it. we've found how to make him talk)
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*Spidey and the Sinister Six having their usual fight*
Doc Ock, landing a hit: You’re getting slow Spider-Man! Age finally catching up to you?
Spider-Man: You wish! I haven’t even hit my 30s! From those costumes I can already tell I failed to save you guys from those midlife crises! Sorry by the way.
Vulture: Watch it wallcr- wait… Did you just say your not in your thirties yet?
Spider-Man: Surprised that this spiders so young and spry? Well-
Electro: Dude I’ve been fighting you for at least 5 fucking years! How old even are you?
Shocker, joking cause he’s the only one who picked up no grown adult acts likes Spidey: Don’t swear in-front of the boy you don’t want him to pick it up.
Rhino: Christ! You’re tellin me I almost crushed some 12-year-olds skull all those years ago?
Spider-Man, regretting his quipping: I was not that young! Like just starting freshman year but-
Sandman, horrified as he’s the only one with a kid and dad instincts(as of my iteration): I could’ve killed a kid…
Shocker, genuinely curious: Are you even old enough to drink? Cruel to kill a man who ain’t had his first drink yet.
Electro: Please tell us you’re at least over 25 as of this fight. Hell, I’ll take over 21!
Spider-Man:….
Sandman, realizing just how young he really is: Oh my god.
Spider-Man: My birthday’s coming up soon so I guess it counts?
Doc Ock, exacerbated: It. Does. Not!
Vulture: What would your mother think if she knew her son was out here risking his life telling poorly constructed jokes?
Spider-Man, offended cause it quips slap: 1. My jokes are great 2. She and my dad are dead so-
Sandman, hysterical cause holy shit he almost killed a kid orphan: OH MY GOD!
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Back again with Danny being adopted by other batfam members.
But this time I thought of the absolute comedy of Damian, tiny squirt and five apples tall, deciding that he is now a father to a grown ass teenage Danny.
It was an accident and had never been his intention to adopt another being.
But it had been placed into Damian’s head that in order to be a potential Batman he had to have his own Robin. And the only way to have his own Robin was to have a child, similar to the way that Father would pick up the various children and teenagers amongst them.
Damain had a very specific list of requirements for his potential child-Robin. Danny did not meet any of those requirements, and yet here Damian was having forged papers for the now Daniel Al Ghul-Wayne, and beginning the treacherous affair of introducing his son to the family.
Danny twisted his new shirt sleeve with a frown. It was a nice green silk that complimented the little green that resided in his son’s eyes. Damian wished to bring out the many carefully crafted features of Danny that could match to Damian. Having his eyes pop, wild hair brushed and losing the battle to nervous hands, would have to do.
At least until Damian taught Danny his mother tongue and began the care of his culture and soon to be heritage.
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