The Justice League have a problem, one that needs some level of knowledge and expertise of a being from the Infinite Realms to give them a better chance of actually solving this problem.
However.
Every ghost they have summoned, without fail, took one look at Constantine. Squinted (yes, squinted). Then decided to go back to where they came without a word.
This. Would have been useful, nice even. If it was a situation where they needed the summoned being of a cult to head back to where they came without a fight.
But alas, that is not what is happening.
The Justice League, obviously, ask him why the ghosts keep fleeing back to their Realm at the sight of him, but Constantine can't answer because he genuinely has no idea why they keep leaving when getting a proper look at him.
So they keep trying and they do find some success in it. They summoned a boy, most likely older than he physically looks yet it still puts some of them off because of, well.
You know.
A boy with white hair and toxic green eyes. The boy stops short, as if not expecting to be randomly transported to somewhere else, takes a look around the room, then the Justice League. His eyes settle on one person.
Constantine, in particular.
He squints (Why do all of them squint? Nobody knows) and then a sudden looking of realization passes on his face. Different from the looks of vague fear and genuinely want to not involve themselves any further, his face held slight disgust and a heavy amount of disappointment.
Thankfully, he didn't leave immediately after that.
Constantine asks what's with the look on the ghost boy's face, the ghost boy in question squints even further. Stares at Constantine for a moment or two, buries his face in his hands and brings his knees to his hand and groans out.
"He could've done so much better."
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OUAHFGHGHHH that was so sweet.... mazey wanting to break out twister and then being shamed for being childish and fig, a dope ass rock star with a leather jacket and fishnets says "hey, I would fucking love to play twister" like. the way fig is so genuinely kind sometimes. those pictures of punks letting kids touch their mohawk spikes. yknow what I mean?
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beast simon preparing you for days so you can take in his knot. he clicks his tongue when you get whiny and desperate, and grabs you by your jaw because you’re not being obedient; because you insist that you can take all of him already when he can barely fit four of his fingers in you. you always end up squirming, legs shutting close as you cum, splintered moans scratching from your ragged throat. but you’re too overstimulated already, so wrung dry, and you feel like your cunt’s been stretched out enough. you say this to simon and all he does is pull your face close to his, his gaze intense, before grunting out, “next time i hear y’whine, my knot’s goin’ down y’r throat instead.” that shouldn’t have made you wetter than you are already—
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one of the things about being an educator is that you hear what parents want their kids to be able to do a lot. they want their kid to be an astronaut or a ballerina or a politician. they want them to get off that damn phone. be better about socializing. stop spending so much time indoors. learn to control their own temper. to just "fucking listen", which means to be obedient.
one of the things i learned in my pedagogy classes is that it's almost always easier to roleplay how you want someone to act. it's almost always easier to explain why a rule exists, rather than simply setting the rule and demanding adherence.
i want my kids to be kind. i want them to ask me what book they should read next, and i want to read that book with them so we can discuss it. i want my kid to be able to tell me hey that hurt my feelings without worrying i'll punish them. i want my kid to be proud of small things and come running up to me to tell me about them. i want them to say "nah, i get why this rule exists, but i get to hate it" and know that i don't need them to be grateful-for-the-roof-overhead while washing the dishes. i want them to teach me things. i want them to say - this isn't safe. i'm calling my mom and getting out of this. i want them to hear me apologize when i do fuck up; and i want them to want to come home.
the other day a parent was telling me she didn't understand why her kid "just got so angry." this woman had flown off the handle at me.
my dad - traditional catholic that he is - resents my sentiment of "gentle parenting". he says they'll grow up spoiled, horrible, pretentious. granola, he spits.
i am going to be kind to them. i am going to set the example, i think. and whatever they choose become in the meantime - i'm going to love them for it.
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Rex: So General Kenobi, how come you speak mando'a?
Obi-Wan: I've always been interested in the culture and I spent a year on Mandalore for a mission in my youth :)
Rex: I see, what about you, General Skywalker?
Anakin: Huh? Oh Obi-Wan used to drop me off in mando daycare when he went to get laid in little Keldabe, fun times, they taught me how to headbutt someone.
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