No okay, but the more I think about it, the more I love the idea of Selina giving a ridiculous answer every time someone asks/implies that Damian is her son, especially if it happens in front of Damian.
Like:
“Oh my god, who’s this cutie?”
“I don’t know” *looks at Damian suspiciously* “Are you a thief? Did you come her to rob those poor, rich, completely clueless and annoying people of all their unnecessary, beautiful diamonds?”
(Damian is amused)
–
“Your son is so cute”
“He’s not my son, he’s my bodyguard and he’s dangerous, don’t come any closer to me, it’s for your own security.”
(Damian’s half offended and half pleased)
–
“Is this your son?”
“No, this is my cat. My son’s home, probably sleeping in his queen-size bed. No, wait, what is the difference between cats and children again? I forgot.”
(Damian is confused)
–
“Oh, you brought your son!”
“No, I brought my husband, what are you talking about” *turns to Damian* *screams* *falls to her knees to clutch Damian to her chest* “BRUCE WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU, YOU SHRUNK”
if i was a pirate captain i would get a movie projector and play a movie on the big sails every friday night for my boys to kick back and enjoy some time off unless we were under attack
Pirates legit did the 16-17th century equivalent of this. When things were slow, they would put on plays, act out dramas of stories they knew, or freestyle. The most preferred model of original productions was courtroom drama: “trying” each other for piracy. The “accused” would list off their many, dramatically and humorously embellished crimes, and be equally dramatically sentenced. Sometimes there was a daring escape, sometimes just a really maudlin death scene, but a good time was had by all.
So they kindasorta had roleplaying games crossed with LARPing?
You wake up with two small lumps on your back, just around your shoulder blades. Your friend has a similar dilemma, however, theirs are on their forehead, and look like zits. Small horns protrude from theirs, while feathers come from yours.
Within a month, you have large, white, dove wings, while your friend has long, curly horns. Turns out, you’re an angel, they’re a demon, and you’re supposed to fight. But you both’d rather just go see a movie.
“We just, like, really bonded over growing mysterious additional appendages,” the angel tries to explain to the Heavenly Agent that comes to ask why they are not in the process of thwarting their enemy. “And, like, she’s not really doing anything evil? Besides, you know,” the angel continues, almost under her breath, “being hella cute.”
“What,” the Agent says. “What was that last part?”
“Nothing,” says the angel unconvincingly. She squints up at the sky and then back to the Agent. “Must have been the wind.”
The Agent wishes that they’d just use heaven-born angels, like in the old days. These earthly messengers are…tedious.
The new angel looks at the Agent guiltlessly and stubbornly doesn’t think about how cute her friend’s butt is in case they can read minds.
Judging by the look one the agent’s face, they can.
————–
“Why aren’t you out there tempting humans?” The Demonic Agent demands of the newly minted demon. They feel their rage growing hotter as they watch her spin again in her desk chair.
“Don’t want to tempt humans,” the demon says. She appear to have been using her new horns as receipt spikes. There’s one for fro-yo for two.
“Then attack your nemesis,” the Demonic Agent tries.
The demon gives them a very dry look. “Go fuck yourself.”
The Demonic Agent wants to cry. “You’ve been given awesome powers, respect, a title, and the duty to do what you ALREADY do– fuck with people. Why. Aren’t. You.”
The demon makes another slow rotation. “Got stuff to think about.”
“What. Stuff?” Asks the Demonic Agent through gritted teeth.
“Nunya,” the demon says.
“What?”
“Nunya fuckin business is what,” the demon says. “Now get outta here, I gotta seduce this chick.”
The demonic Agent feels his hopes rose. “You’re going to tempt a human?”
“I’m thinking more along the lines of a long-term committed relationship with an angel,” the demon says, grinning a sharp grin.
The Demonic Agent buries their face in their hands and wishes demons were less obstinate creatures.
edward nygma not cursing because hes smart is pretty weak because youre missing out on edward using flawless almost Shakespearean insults that hit you where it Really hurts without cursing, and then he turns around and while pridefully walking away he trips over his cane and just shouts “FUCK” as he falls
can tongues in fanfiction stop fighting each other for dominance, let them come home from war
it’s really fucked up because the guy who did that study found out that tongues only do that in captivity and that wild tongues are actually much more sociable with each other
He stopped in front of the mirror and sighed. His penis was just a little too large to be fashionable, and his balls were just a little lopsided. Most days it didn’t bother him, but today he pushed at his genitals, trying to make them look more normal, like the men in magazines. It was hopeless. He dropped his junk in resigned frustration. There were worse things than having too large of a penis, he thought.
While, granted, some writers do take the breast thing too far, this comparison doesn’t even make sense. Men don’t obsess about their genitals the way women obsess about their breasts because they’re not in your face all the time (in the case of large boobs). Breasts are just more visible (closer to eye level).
Newsflash! Women don’t obsess about our breasts.
No really, we live with them 24/7, we can see friends, and relatives breasts pretty much on demand, hell, we just have to go to get changed at the gym to be inundated with boobs. They are really boring to us (ad while we’re on it, nowhere near as sensitive as so many men seem to think!).
The only time a woman might obsess about her breasts is when they’re painful, such as when lactating or wearing an ill-fitting bra, and neither situation is at all sexy.
Men obsess over women’s breasts. Women don’t.
I’m just loling about supposedly obsessing over my breasts because they’re near my face.
“In your face all the time (in case of large boobs)”
So apparently large breasts are gravity-defying objects that rise up to our face until eye level, huh??
Any women out there willing to draw out how this guy’s version of boob reality might look like, because this is just too ridiculous 😂😂😂
I needed this belly-laugh, I really did, so many you did too.
I..am..idk
🤣😂🤣
And before anyone says anything about women who are into women: breasts can be attractive, but they’re still mundane and we are perfectly able to not ogle or feel abashed when in the presence of bare-breasted people.
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