Isn't It Funny How Every Fandom Revolving Around The Most Horrifying And Angst Ridden Concepts And Themes

IS THAT HYPERPIGMENTATION???

Not where you grew up. Not where you’ll be living soon. Where you’re living right now.

Billy, talking to a war criminal like Mr Mind: “Hey! Can you please stop that?”

Billy, talking to his siblings after they mildly annoyed him: “do that again and I’ll fucking end you and your bloodline”

Let him have that Cain instinct

Excuses (lies) Billy Batson could use to explain why he’s a kid.

He just takes the form of a child like Klarion the Witch Boy

It’s his power save mode

He was born with the knowledge of the gods and has the mind of an adult

He uses the form because people are more likely to talk to a homeless little orphan kid rather than a 7ft Demi-god superhero.

His body just ages more slowly than his mind.

He was made of magic not very long ago so his non-magic form is how old he’d be if he was normal.

He died at this age and his magic makes him look how old he should be.

He just looks that way

“Fuck off, it’s magic” (persuasion)

“What? Are you seeing straight? Obviously I’m an adult” (straight up lying)

WIP Game!

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

Saw @wolfsbanesparks’s post about this and decided I may as well put all my google docs full of unfinished fics to use!

Word: HEART

H: Hal raised his hand and let his ring scan the image for a moment, but the ring couldn’t translate it. “Well, whatever language it is, it’s either a dead one or one that is isolated enough that the Green Lantern Corps doesn’t have any data on it.” He stated with a shrug. (From unnamed Billy Batson-centric fic)

E: Everything faded into the distance as her mind went blank. She could barely feel the rain that usually calmed her, that was supposed to calm her.

Her father was in Gotham.

Her father was in Gotham.

Her father. (From ‘A Childhood Defined By Violence’)

A: And when she wrapped herself in that blanket, it felt like it could shield her from the oppressive fluorescent lights that were nowhere near Duke’s warm glow, the looks people gave her that projected worry-annoyance-disgust-worry-worry that greatly contrasted the love-enjoyment-happy-curious-happy look in Damian whenever he was around animals. (From ‘A Childhood Defined By Violence’)

R: Relief flooded through Billy’s body. The fact that they thought he was just turned into a kid meant Billy could just go along with it and not technically lie. Though the relief faded away as he quickly remembered he couldn’t transform back. (From the unnamed Billy Batson-centric fic)

T: The urge to break-destroy-hurt-break-sob-break-break washing over her body as pure panic started to force her mindset into what she was raised to do.

To be violent. (From unnamed whumptober fic)

I haven’t actually got any released fics yet, so don’t expect any of these to come out for a long time (except the whumptover ones, but I dunno if I’ll have those done in time anyway.)

I don’t really know anyone who hasn’t already done this game, but if you haven’t done this yet and want to try or maybe you want to do it again;

Your word is: HANDY

imagine having a devastating piece of gossip (the Waynes were secretly sleeping with their butler) and trying to flip that around as an attack/leverage on their now-adult kid mid-fancy event but said kid is Bruce Wayne and didn’t lose his cool last week when the entire actual Earth was about to blow up so all he does is raise one eyebrow, shrug, down his entire glass of champagne in one graceful chug, and waltz off with a breezy “Guess it’s finally time to get that paternity test, huh?”

You don’t know how desperately I need the Justice League to pull up to the Rock of Eternity cause they need the help of the all powerful and all knowing Champion of Magic, only to see a kid playing with toy cars making “vroom!” noises and to face the realisation that this is the person who can control all magic in the world

Headcanon that whenever somebody in the Marvel Trio says something stupid another Marvel smacks their head and says “get outta there, Mr Mind!” And only other heroes from Fawcett understand it.

It would be such a cute inside joke that confuses every other hero.

Before I knew I was bisexual I was just insanely dramatic and weird around guys I liked. I had a crush on this guy in my ward - he was older than me, he played bagpipes and had a cheerful dog and an old Volkswagen bus that he worked on all the time. He also had nice scruff and unnaturally attractive hands and a good sense of humor, so I was like FULLY smitten.

I talked about him a lot and about how he was just so dang COOL, dang it, because he was so frickin’ cool. And I really liked him. I thought he was funny and smart and interesting and cool and fascinating and a bunch of other weird feelings I barely had the attention span to think about (I think my ADHD may have prevented me from coming out for a while tbh).

One day, I’m like 14-15, his dad is called to be my Sunday School teacher. His dad is this ex-military hardass with a chip on his shoulder for absolutely no reason and unattainable standards for his children. He spent most of Sunday School talking shit about his eldest boy and how he was rebellious and didn’t listen to him and how that was going to make him a bad adult and a bad son forever. How his son was too lazy and unmotivated to be successful because he didn’t listen to his advice on how to read the scriptures. He complained about how our generation was too weak to do things right and that our generation would surely be the one that brought the world’s downfall because of our laziness and sin.

And like, first of all, that guy can already go fuck himself for that. To clarify, that’s already stupid. BUT. He was talking about the man I had uncomfortable dreams about at least once a month. I couldn’t stand it. I’d get so mad I’d go home shaking sometimes because how fucking DARE he insult his hardworking stunning son by calling him lazy? For not reading the Bible the way his dad wants? When he’s already spending his time learning bagpipes? And fixing cars? And being cool? And cute? Who the fuck even cares if he uses the footnotes in the Book of Mormon? Who gives a rotten rat’s ass if he doesn’t use the scripture study manual his dad uses? He’s so cool he doesn’t even need it? So fuck off?

And eventually I got fucking Sick Of It and decided to mutiny. And by mutiny, I mean skip class. I’d just not go. And after a bit, adults started noticing and bugging me about it. At first, this was put off by small talk and excuses, but as my absence from Sunday School became more well-known, my excuses began to be rejected.

“Oh, Lizard, why aren’t you in class?” Uhm idk because my Sunday School teacher is mean to his kid and that makes me so mad wtf do you want from me? 🫠🤔

“Where’s your class, I’ll go with you!” Oh no ty I’d rather peel my own eyes than have my taste in men critiqued tyty 🩷

“Lizard, you should go to class, I’m sure they miss you!” And I miss the innocent days where my stomach didn’t hurt when a cool boy I knew was being belittled but unfortunately for us both those days are LONG gone and all that’s left is a budding psychosexual clusterfuck that will render me almost fully incapable of functioning for the better part of a decade so Bye Bye, sister Smith 🙂‍↕️

It had gotten to the point that ward leadership was involved. I was being approached by members of the Young Men’s presidency and the Bishopric to try and make me to back to class. They were telling me God had told them to find me and instruct me on my rebelliousness. This is where I implemented my secret weapon - women. Mormons are weird as hell about a lot of things, but especially about women. And I was GREAT with women. So to combat the leadership’s attention, I started helping women.

Our ward had a lot of new moms with babies who were, as babies tend to be, fussy. But for Mormon women the church is often their only social outlet, so they try to power through as long as they can even if it means enduring the exhausting ordeal of taking care of a fussy baby at church.

For what it’s worth, I have a lot of sway with babies. I got baby street cred. Me and babies have a rapport. I have always known this. I have always loved this. And in this crucial gay time in my faggot life my baby mind powers came in clutch - Every time I saw a member of the bishopric getting close, or a young men’s leader giving me side-eye, I’d start walking slowly towards class, passing by relief society. I’d wait until a mom’s baby had gotten too fussy and needed to leave the room, and I’d swoop in like a knight. “Oh, don’t you worry sister, I’ll bounce him a bit. You go back and hang out with your friends in class. You deserve a break.”

If it was a diaper change or something they’d tell me no. But if it was just some good old-fashioned baby fusses, I mean, they’d be moved almost to tears. They just got their social time back AND a free babysitter who is renowned as the Baby Whisperer. And because I was holding a baby as a favor for someone else, I of course could not reasonably be bothered to return to class.

So just like that, I was out of everyone’s sights. This went on for about a month before the straw that broke the camel’s back, which was that without my class participation the classes were quiet and awkward. I’d often take the brunt of Sunday school lectures by answering questions impulsively and over explaining myself enough that the clock could run out without anyone needing to do or say much. My absence meant everyone else was getting hit with the full unpleasantness of this guy’s bullshit. And so slowly, one-by-one, I had a group of about 8 kids on baby-holding duty. These new moms were so overjoyed, they and their husbands were both so actively in our corner that now chastising us was untenable. Now we had bargaining power. So the Bishopric approached us, confused beyond confused and uncomfortable beyond uncomfortable, and said,

“What’s it gonna take to get you back to class?”

The POWER I possessed in that moment was addictive. By being kind to the women of the ward and ignoring the Mormon de facto Rule of Law of following rules en-masse so the rule breakers feel left out, there were now so many people breaking ranks that we had effectively enacted a church boy labor strike. And they crumbled so fast it was almost like we had swayed God himself to our cause.

“I want brother assholedad gone. He sucks at teaching.”

I didn’t even have to say it. One of my rebels said it for me. I just nodded sagely and said “Yes, his class is not edifying. It’s better to not go and hold babies.”

And just like that, with a snap of my limp-wristed, Christ-wounding, bottom-brained fingers my faggot will was enacted. God’s revelation that brother shitdad was his chosen Sunday school teacher flipped on a dime. Suddenly brother shitdad was asked to be an usher and the fun dad of another one of my crushes was called in to teach us. I still stayed to hold babies a lot, but the rest of the class returned and all was well again.

Although I didn’t recognize it then, I think that was a formative moment for me in a lot of ways. I learned that being really persistently annoying will get me what I want from authority eventually. I learned that God’s will can be swayed by going in strike. I learned that ignoring men’s made up authority forces them to level with you as a person. I learned that caring for women, especially vulnerable women, can make a whole world happier. I learned that letting women rest can help them feel more love for the things that matter in their life. I learned that social bonds make everyone stronger and happier. And I learned that loving others in a gay way can change the world.

Be gayer. Read Terry Pratchett. I love y’all 💕

I'm only saying this for your sake, but objectively, it's not a smart idea to bring politics into normal hobbies. You might lose supporters of your blog just because of your political stance, and that would be terrible since you're so amazing!! It's only a suggestion, but I really reccomend not bringing politics into anything.