Tumgik
#how headcanon
msookyspooky · 1 year
Note
Not gonna lie. All the posts about Billy and Stu w/ kids, and the recents gifs of Bo Sinclair got me wondering what the Sinclairs as dads would be like😂.
OH I GOT YOU!!
Sinclair Brothers as Dad's
TW: Mentions of past abuse, corporal punishment and trauma
Tumblr media
Lester:
- A giant kid himself
- No rules other than be respectful and nice towards ppl bc yes you can eat Chocolate bars for breakfast or play in mud but you are still gonna have some Southern Manners and Good Morals
- Teaches them how to skin dead animals and make bone jewelry from roadkill at a very questionably young age
- Constantly cracking out the knock knock jokes and Dad jokes
- Is the most emotionally understanding with his kids when they're angry or sad
- Rarely gets mad but when he does he's more likely to walk away and take a breather. Even if he does ever yell, he'll apologize and take them out for ice cream to make up for it
- Makes his babies his whole world
- Plays hide and seek and tag with his kids instead of just supervising
- Has candybars in his truck for all occasions
- Shamelessly does fashion shows or plays make beileve with his kids no matter how silly
- Has a song he made up specifically for them
Vincent Sinclair:
- The least emotional of all his brothers and can come off detatched as a Dad
- Doesn't always know the right things to do for them emotionally and any tantrums has him at a loss bc it reminds him of his childhood watching Bo and how his parents handled it
- Instructs them and teaches them things more than plays
- When he does play its more along the lines of hide and seek or board games
- Would let his kids wear whatever they want.
- Never forces them to express themselves if they don't want to; he understands completely
- Loves seeing them have creative outlets
- Has craft day where he just pushes projects aside and creates things with them as much as they want.
- Teaches them sign language (Even if it's not offical ASL and just a made up Sign language he learned himself) so they can communicate better
- Rarely lets even his children see his face and tries to hide the 'monster' from them from under the mask
- Would probably cry if one of his kids ever hugged him w/o his mask on
- Would never ever make his children think they're anything but beautiful bc to him they are beautiful
Bo Sinclair:
- The most hard to pinpoint of all his brothers bc he has a bad and good side to him as a Dad and can go from one extreme to the next
- Refuses to parent how his parents did when it comes to tying them down or playing favorites if it's more than one.
- Tries to not parent like his parents at all but his emotional rages he's prone to can make it hard sometimes. If he ever yells and sees tears in his little ones eyes he's instantly on his knees apologizing and begging them to not be scared of him. He remembers what it was like to be scared in his own home and he vows to never make his babies feel like that
- Would never use a high chair EVER
- Sad to say because of how he was raised its 50/50 if he'd repeat the abuse or refuse if his kid pisses him off. I vote TRY not to just because his kid would be his everything. He is also raised Southern and old fashioned so he would definitely threaten ass whoopin's in his house when they keep pushing it. But 9 times out of 10 it never happens and if it did he'd secretly feel horrible a few days afterwards and if he feels bad enough/it was harsh enough he'll talk to them about how sorry he is it got to that point but trying to also make them understand they gotta learn boundaries and to respect people. A kid is just a giant learning curve for him. Him and the kid are learning together.
- Has trauma responses to them throwing tantrums bc yes he knows what it's like but it also reminds him of how his parents handled it so he probably encourages his kids to go outside and scream their heads off till they don't have anger any more. Anything but hearing and seeing them act like he did and bringing all that back.
- Is strict but also spoils them rotten.
- Will give them 'the look' to make them mind in public. That usually straightens his kid up so he can spoil them any other time.
- Is very physically affectionate to his kids. It's something he didn't get growing up and craves so he naturally hugs and kisses and tickles and wrestles with his children daily
- God help any kid that bullies his kid. He'd definitely teach his kids how to fight. His child would be more in trouble for not standing up for themselves than fighting.
- Let's them control the radio while he tinkers on cars.
- Going for a drive and then to get a hamburger at some Drive in has become a regular Sunday thing
- Watches tv with them with a beer in his hand and a root beer in theirs, dog in between them. (He's just creating a mini Bo; congrats Vince you got two of them bossing.)
- Let's his kids help lure victims and is proud when they do a good job (Bad parenting Bo Bad!)
- Does the girl voices for Barbies and just about kills Vincent and Lester when they tape record him; running away wheezing with laughter.
152 notes · View notes
redactedrem · 18 days
Text
Headcanon where after so many arguments between the batkids and Bruce over his paranoia and complete disregard for his kids privacy, the entire family had compromised with (in the healthiest way possible) downloading life360 on their phones and that's how they all keep track of each other.
Now Bruce knew that this is mostly for his benefit and is supposed to be a healthy alternative for his unhealthy paranoia and helicopter parenting, but what he wasn't expecting was for his kids to start keeping track of him.
He's putting gas in his car and Dick calls him because apparently Dick has been watching him drive around on the app? And Bruce is currently at a gas station thats right around the corner from a Taco Bell and now Dick wants him to get food for everyone since he's already there.
He's driving home from a meeting and Steph calls him because her and Duke were shopping in the area and wants to know if he can pick them up, when he asks how she knew he was on the same street, he gets a "Oh I just like to stalk everyone on the app for funsies." as an answer.
Jason calls him and he can barely get out a hello before Jason cuts him off, "Bruce why the fuck is your phone battery on 5%, charge your damn phone" which completely stuns him because why does he know that. He clears his throat before answering. "Jason, what?"
"Everyone can see each others phone batteries on '360, now charge your phone." Is all he gets before Jason hangs up on him.
12K notes · View notes
rachelfc-art · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
By Your Side
32K notes · View notes
mountainshroom · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
underrated duo 😔👊 were watching season 3 with my mom and guys the firebending masters-episode is SO GOOD
12K notes · View notes
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I remember discussing Tintin casting choices with a friend from Germany and remarked how it was odd he often has an English accent in adaptations rather than a Belgian one, and my friend just replied "that's because Tintin gives incredibly strong English boy energy (derogatory)"
Here in the UK there's a lot of weird classism tied into accents. Today accent diversity and representation in broadcasting is actively pursued but in Tintin's time there certainly was a preferred accent to have.
imagine this exchange happens between pages 28-29 in The Crab with the Golden Claws
8K notes · View notes
ellilyre · 1 month
Text
In the same vibe as Percy choking Akhlys, may I suggest :
Nico causing wounds to necrotize. Even from a small scratch on your finger, it spreads so fast your only hope is an amputation asap.
Jason holding the air still in your lungs. You're not dying because you don't have air, but because you can't get it out and are literally choking.
Hazel controlling stones in jewelries. Imagine getting chocked by your necklace, your finger being sectioned by your ring, being handcuffed by your bracelets, your head being crushed between your earrings...
Thalia manipulating the electricity in your body. Causing your nervous system to move in certain ways, or just shutting down your brain activity.
The big 3 are terrifying, and I wish we would've seen them (others than Percy) being more op. Cmon Rick, show us reasons the gods are afraid of them !
7K notes · View notes
arggghhhsstuff · 5 months
Text
forever obsessed with percy being weird. off-putting. strange even. a cryptid maybe. an urban legend if I may. my boy is the son of one of the oldest, most powerful gods, has been in FBI's records since the age of twelve, fought and won two wars against immortal beings, went to hell and back. I think he's allowed to be a little odd.
8K notes · View notes
guardian-of-da-gay · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
eventual Mama's boy
14K notes · View notes
mybuginette · 3 months
Text
i'm obsessed with this shit now
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
sorry, in universe social media is my roman empire now
5K notes · View notes
allthegothihopgirls · 1 month
Text
when the batboys get broken bones or other things that can't be fixed in the batcave, and have to go to an actual hospital, they make up the most outlandish sounding excuses for their injuries:
dick (with a broken leg): "well you see, i was actually trying to jump over a river on a pair of rollerskates"
jason (with broken ribs): "i was volunteering at the zoo... feeding the alligators. i fell backwards with the meat in my hands, and one pounced on me. funny how much damage they can do."
tim (with the worst concussion man has ever seen): "oh that? i was walking outside.. and my brothers were playing basketball on the top floor of the house, and one of them accidentally threw the ball out the window, and it landed on my head"
(bruce hears that one and has to reconsider whether or not the version of the story tim told him (getting hit by condiment king's mustard launcher) was the truth or not)
damian (with fingers twisted in every direction): "i play the piano... very violently"
5K notes · View notes
teamblck · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
haven’t seen one for gaz yet and i do NOT tolerate gaz erasure
5K notes · View notes
moongreenlight · 3 months
Text
Johnny is the kind of guy that you hook up with when you’re on a girls trip and fully expect to never see him again.
But it turns out he was on deployment so when you go home and start seeing him at the grocery store you think there’s no way it could be him. Has to be a trick of the light.
It’s not. When he sees you in the frozen aisle he’ll come straight up behind you and grope your ass like he has the right.
“Knew it was ye. Know you better from this angle than the front, anyhow.”
3K notes · View notes
lassieposting · 6 months
Text
Tav, using their Pet Owner Voice: What have you got in your mouth? What are you eating? Drop it! Drop it right now!
Scratch: [whines and drops Wyll's boot]
Owlbear Cub: [guiltily spits out Boo, alive and unharmed]
Halsin, currently a bear: [drops a half-eaten salmon and makes an indignant noise]
Astarion: [startles at the raised voice, lets go of Tav's wrist, reclaims it and goes back to his breakfast once he realises they're not talking to him]
Gale: [chewing faster]
Tav, sternly: Gale...
Gale: [reluctantly spits out a powerful magical artefact into Tav's outstretched hand]
Tav, muttering under their breath: Can't have shit in the Gate.
Gale, ruefully rubbing the back of his neck, also under his breath: Gods forbid a wizard do anything
5K notes · View notes
aroaceleovaldez · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Nico referring to his mom as "Mama" implies he most likely at least used to refer to Hades as "Papa" and i 100% headcanon he still does but mostly in the manner of him having the entire Underworld wrapped around his finger for being the baby of the family
#pjo#riordanverse#nico di angelo#headcanon#my art#nico flexing youngest child privilages by pulling out the most pitiful expression he can manage#anyways i find it fun to explore character word choices#cause yknow no two characters are going to select their words the same way#or even necessarily think about it to the same degree#i like to think Nico thinks about his word choice a lot#so of course every time he uses ''papa'' he fully knows he's pulling the Baby Of The Family card#Hades definitely knows this too but falls for it every time anyways#cause Nico hasnt called him ''papa'' regularly since getting his memory wiped - just detached ''father'' or at best ''dad''#so it just reminds Hades of How Much He Just Wants His Children To Be Happy Like The Old Days#and how much poor Nico has been through and he's just the baby of the family and-#cue Nico smugly staring at the camera cause he knows how much power he holds#also i say Nico is Hades' only son cause mythologically even when Zagreus *is* Hades' son (rarely) he's. dead.#a major part of Zagreus' mythology is that he died#and im p sure every other deity said to be Hades' children are all goddesses and also are like 50% of the time not his#theres also only like 3 of them. and as far as we know in riordanverse canon one of them is implied to not be his daughter#so Nico is Hades' only son and also youngest in the family (cause Hazel is older by a month chronologically or 1 year biologically)#(and everybody else is a deity if children of hades at all)
3K notes · View notes
jewishrat420 · 3 months
Text
No one has ever flirted with Steve the way Eddie flirts with Steve.
And it's not like no one flirts with Steve. God, no, it's not like no one flirts with Steve. Steve can't walk into the grocery store without at least three sets of heads turning and focusing all their attention on him.
And he's not even trying to be cocky about it. That's just the reality he was gifted when he came out of his mother's womb looking like the world's freshest Adonis. Honestly, he wouldn't be surprised if they changed the colloquialism to "Steve."
Regardless. For as many people like to flirt with him, make themselves known, filtering in and out of his orbit like willing planets, no one knows quite how to get him going like Eddie. Maybe it's that they're not as confident as he is, maybe they're scared of the rejection Eddie was born facing and will die knowing.
Maybe they're scared of ruining their chances. Maybe Eddie isn't.
For whatever reason, Eddie doesn't seem like he's scared. Even though there was a long time before he knew Steve was bi, was just as into the flirting as Eddie was, even though there was a chance (not like it'd ever happen, but the unknown was there) that Steve could have beaten him up just for calling him "sweetheart," he did it anyway. He got right up into Steve's space, close enough that Steve could get high off the remnants of the joint he'd smoked earlier, and gave him a look that offered everything.
And, God, Steve wanted it. He wanted it all.
And so that began months of what Steve has so aptly referred to as torture. Apt, because he knows what it's like. He has the scars and the fear of ice cream and needles to prove it.
But this... this is a different kind of torture. Mental, emotional, spiritual, whatever you call it-- this is meant to tear him apart from the inside out, meant to make him want to rip his own bones out from his body and offer them to Eddie if it meant the other man making a fucking move.
And Steve would, is the thing. He would absolutely make the first move-- it's what he usually does, anyway, and he's got a pretty damn good success rate for it.
But, for whatever reason, this feels different. This back and forth they have, the constant teasing, the sliding in and out of each other's orbits, unable and unwilling to refute the most fundamental laws of gravity... it's something special, at least to Steve. Something sacred.
Which is why, when Eddie calls Steve "Harrington" for the first time in months, his first response is to pout.
They're about halfway through splitting a joint, the sweet smoke curling around wisps of hair and parted lips and filtering in and out of the holes in their sweaters. The air outside is getting colder, thinner, sharper, as the winter months dreg on. But inside the trailer, it's comfortable and warm. Safe.
Steve's being a bit of a hog, and he's man enough to admit that. But he had a shitty day at work and all he wants is to feel nothing other than the weightless relaxation of a good high buzzing through his bones. Sue him for taking a little more than his fair share of the good stuff, even if it is Eddie's.
"Steve," Eddie whines, reaching his hand out and curling his fingers in request. "Give it over."
"No," Steve responds, just on the edge of whiny. He brings the joint to his lips and takes a long, slow, deep drag, feeling the sweet heat of the smoke burning in his lungs, taking up the space where oxygen should be. He goes a little dizzy with it, feels his eyes lower. "Mine."
Steve can't see it, but he knows Eddie's rolling his eyes. Can sense the shift in the air, can sense every little fucking thing about Eddie at any given moment.
"C'mon, Harrington, you're being a brat."
And, normally, Steve would find another aspect of that sentence to freak out about. Would zero in on the word brat and relish in the flare of heat it sends shooting up his spine like firework sparks. Would squint his eyes at Eddie and tilt his head in the way he knows makes him look good, would give him his cutest little smirk and say, "Who, me?" and would preen in the response it gets.
This time, though, he's much too focused on the other name Eddie used for him. The one he hasn't heard come out of Eddie's mouth since before he realized that Steve was, as he put it, "actually a good dude."
He doesn't realize he's pouting until the sudden silence in the room starts to creep in, make a home in the buzzing in his ears. He didn't realize that he didn't say anything, and neither did Eddie, and now they're sitting in a mess of their own making. Of Eddie's own making, really.
His next words come out without effort, without intent.
"Don't call me that."
He chances a look over at Eddie, at the risk of appearing as vulnerable as he feels, and to his distress, he can't get a read on the man. His dark eyebrows furrow, brown eyes squinting slightly, and his lips part like he wants to speak. He licks them. Steve's eyes follow the motion unintentionally.
"Call you what?" Eddie says on an exhale. "A brat?"
Steve shakes his head. "Harrington. Don't like it when you call me that."
Eddie kind of softens, then, and Steve didn't realize he had stiffened until he isn't anymore. He sort of sinks into the couch, spreads his legs imperceptibly wider, and Steve wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the way his left knee brushes against Steve's just barely. Just enough for those heated sparks to send a couple pinpricks across his skin.
"No?" he says, looking over to meet Steve's gaze. His cheeks are flushed, whether from the weed or the heat of the room or the heat between them, and Steve's sure that his look the same. "What do you want me to call you, then?"
Steve's definitely blushing now. He looks away from Eddie, tucks his chin to his chest, lets the joint between his fingers burn away. Eddie takes it from him, gently, and brings it to his lips. Steve hears the paper crackling as he inhales.
His voice is quiet, almost meek, when he speaks. It's completely unlike Steve, completely unlike the persona he used to so proudly take on-- but then again, Eddie is completely unlike anyone that Steve has ever met. He's more real, more human, and in turn, Steve is too.
"...You know."
Eddie makes a little noise, then, something in the back of his throat that was born and died within the very same second it was released. Something soft, almost pained, like his body couldn't help the reaction it had to that sentence.
Steve watches the thin, long line of Eddie's arm reach forward and press the joint into the glass of the ashtray. He follows the motion until Eddie's hand settles into the rips over his knee, fingers intertwining with the thread. His pinkie is dangerously close to Steve's own sweatpant-covered skin, and he feels the contact as if Eddie were touching him.
Eddie's hand twitches like it wants to move, and Steve resists the urge to grab it, hold it within the warmth of his own palms.
"Do I?" Eddie says, his voice quieter than it was a moment ago. That thick silence fills the trailer once more, settling in between the soft buzzing of the lightbulb in the kitchen and the muffled humming of the crickets outside. Steve hears Eddie take a stuttering breath. "Tell me."
Steve sighs, feeling his chest burn as his heartbeat picks up. His throat pounds with the pulsing of it. He places his own hand on his right knee, pinkie finger edging closer and closer to the space where Eddie's meets his. Eddie's hand twitches again.
"Like it when you call me sweet things," he says on an exhale, as though getting it out all in one breath would make it easier. "Like how it makes me feel."
Eddie lets out another one of those noises, then, something more like a cut-off groan. His hand curls into the fabric of his jeans for no more than a second before he releases it, and Steve gets to watch as the blood blanches and then returns to his knuckles.
"Sweet things, huh?" he muses, voice only slightly strained. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say Eddie is nervous. "Like... Stevie?"
Steve hums. "Yeah. I like that."
Eddie's pinkie moves closer. Barely. Imperceptibly, if not for the way Steve is tuned into his every movement, like a dog to the sound of their owner's keys.
"Yeah?"
Steve hums again.
"What about... sweetheart?"
Steve closes his eyes. Lets out a shaky breath, inhales a smoother one.
"Yeah."
Steve feels something brush against his pinkie. Something warm.
"Honey?"
Steve nods, biting his lip. "Mhm."
Eddie lets out a quiet little laugh. "Even big boy?"
Steve returns it helplessly, feels the edges of a smile pulling at his lips. The air feels cold on his teeth, as though he's burning up from the inside out and anything outside of his own body is a cooling salve.
"Especially big boy."
Eddie laughs a little louder, and the jostling of his body brings his pinkie even closer to Steve's. Completely pressed against his own, now.
Steve swears he can feel his heartbeat through it. Or maybe it's his own.
"What about..." Eddie takes a breath. "Love?"
Steve's own breath hitches. He opens his eyes, looks at where their skin is touching in more than one place. He feels it, feels every point of contact where the cells that make Eddie are existing with the cells that make Steve. Wonders, maybe, if they stay here long enough, if they'll merge and mold over time. Become one.
"Yeah," Steve breathes. "I like that one a lot."
Eddie hums, and the room falls back into silence for a moment. Steve's skin burns where their fingers are touching. He moves his hand to the right, just barely, just enough to let Eddie know that he feels it. Just enough to ask Eddie if he does, too.
His response is overwhelming.
Eddie moves his hand to the left, solidifies all the points of contact between them, and Steve feels like he's exploding. Feels like a bubbling pit of lava that's set to burst, to overflow, like it can't hold back anymore. Like it's tried for so long that it's hurting, now, pressurized and boiling and hot, way too fucking hot.
And then, Eddie crosses his pinkie over Steve's, and Steve thinks he's dying.
He takes in a sharp breath like it's the last one he'll ever get, and he doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it. He knows Eddie is right there with him, knows he's not the only one feeling this irrefutable pull like gravity between them. Knows, hopes, it's only a matter of time before they collide.
Eddie hums again. He taps his pinkie once over the smallest of Steve's knuckles, almost like he's making a decision. He takes a long, slow breath before he speaks.
"You know which one's my favorite?"
Steve's throat clicks. "Which?"
"Look at me."
Steve turns his head to the right for no more than a second before Eddie's lips are on his.
It's hungry, it's indulgent, it's immediately addictive. It feels like breathing.
Eddie presses his whole body against Steve's, and he can feel the way his tendons flex where his hand is covering the back of Steve's. Where their pinkies meet, their fingers intertwine and cross over one another like the roots of a tree, their bodies the whole mycorrhizal network.
The next word is spoken against Steve's lips, and Steve can feel the way his mouth forms around it. Decides, from this moment on, that he never wants to hear it another way.
"Baby."
Steve's exhale is more of a moan, a dying sound that, like Eddie's before, lived for only a moment in his throat before pushing through the wall of his lips. Eddie takes it, holds it in his own mouth, swallows it down hungrily and slides his tongue against Steve's as though asking for more.
"That's--" Steve pants, getting his hands on Eddie's hips and pulling until he's seated in his lap. "Mine too."
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, his lips still pressed against Steve's. Their words are muffled against each other, but they don't need to hear them to understand. They only need to feel the outline of them, the shape of the consonants and vowels against and around each other's tongues. They only need to press their bodies together and know, intimately, the meaning in each other's hearts.
"Yeah. Want you to call me that forever."
This time, Steve feels Eddie's laughter against his lips. His chest. Feels it bubble up in the space between his ribs, feels it flow into his mouth like a river, swallows it down like the first glass of water after a run. Feels his own creep up behind his teeth in return, gives it back to Eddie like an offering, who takes it greedily. Hungrily. Gratefully.
"Think that can be arranged, baby."
3K notes · View notes
zoneofsmites · 5 months
Text
Im of the full (possibly delusional) belief that Durge is not the species that they physically appear to be.
You’re telling me this being crafted from nothing but bhaal’s flesh and his blood - this demigod - is actually a dragonborn/tiefling/human/elf/etc.
No. This thing is bhaal’s flesh and it just happens to look like that. They’re an imitation of a species, they’re not truly a (full)mortal being, they have no heritage aside from bhaal.
As a result I’m sure there’s some…oddities.
For example, a demigod child, not fully mortal. I doubt they adhere to the lifespan of whatever species they look like. Looking younger than they should. (less so perhaps with long lived races like elfs and half-elves where that is par for the course).
A dragonborn durge that by all accounts looks like a blue dragonborn but their breathweapon is acid. A tiefling durge that seems to be a Mephistopheles tiefling but they cannot cast mage hand, instead smiting like a zariel bloodline tiefling.
An elf or tiefling durge that doesn’t read as fey or infernal trough identification spells. Because they aren’t either of those things. Perhaps they could read as divine but not quite.
Members of a race that durge is supposed to be looking at them and sometimes when making eye contact they read as wrong. And some kind of uncanny effect triggers in their brain.
Give me more freaky durge who isn’t really what they appear to be at all. Just a little murder demigod crafted from dead god flesh to be the shape of something else.
4K notes · View notes