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senselessviolets · 3 months ago

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“stay soft”

Roman Roy x Fem. Reader

Rating E (Smut)

Word Count: 3.3k

AO3 Link

WARNINGS:

Mommy kink, smut, some plot, this man has MOMMY ISSUES™️, gentle femdom, titplay, breast sucking, so much dirty talk, Roman gets called “baby” a lot, no PIV, no uses of Y/N

Author's Notes:

The people have spoken—y’all want Roman being fucking babied in bed so that’s what the fuck I did and I have zero regrets. Totally gave up in the end but school’s been incredibly draining for me so I’m proud of myself for even getting THIS out.

[Gif creds: I forget. if it’s yours, lemme know!!]

Summary:

You are an equally wealthy childhood friend of the Roys and Roman in particular. After years of little to no contact with him, he and you decide to finally act on the mutual attraction you both share in the most ‘Roman way’ you can think of.

“Okay, but like if we…fuckin’...if we fuckin’ do this, I will want…some things. But I’m not g’na fuckin’ beg or anything…call you mommy, ‘goo goo ga ga’…none of that shit. I will want you…to be there…and I will want you to ‘not be there’...if you catch my drift. I-I don’t wanna hear a fuckin’ word or a single moan. I don’t want—I just don’t want it, okay. And this might sound bad—even though I’ve definitely said worse—but you would be just a-a means for me,” a voicemail blears in your ear as you are made aware of the four calls you missed in your slumber, “‘Kay? I dunno. Think it over. It’s not fuckin’ life or death. Until it is. And I kill you. And hide the body and burn the evidence…kidding! ‘Kay, love you, kidding, ‘kay, bye!”

This was uncharted territory for you both.

You and Roman and the other Roy children were longtime family friends. Like Stewy Hosseni or a lesser example Ray Kennedy. What that meant was your incredibly loaded dad gave Logan Roy an ungodly sum of money in the nineties and had managed to stay on his good side ever since. At their status, that’s what qualified as ‘friendship’. Everything was a transaction at the end of the day. Like you suspected Logan and Caroline had bought their way into their kids’ hearts, to even be in the same room as these titans—to breathe the same air—you had to beg, steal, or borrow. Fortunately, you hailed from less-than-humble beginnings; your father being an incredibly successful venture capitalist-turned-philanthropist and your mother the heiress of a billion-dollar publishing company.

But it was all just details.

You were eternally grateful to be an only child, imagining an existence where you and your progeny were destined to forever claw at each other's throats—all for whatever scraps your parents were generous enough to leave you.

Unfortunate. ‘Pitiful’ felt more accurate. Every hollow soiree and vapid function served as a reminder. These were not your people. And they never would be. And yet—

“Heya! Well, you look less miserable than usual. Lemme guess, you finally ditched Loser What’s-His-Face and have taken up my longstanding advice of giving lesbianism a try,”

“Hi, Roman. No, I’ve actually been reminiscing about our younger years together. Remember the time you threw up in your mouth before presenting me my corsage the night of the winter formal? Seventh grade? Ring a bell?”

“That was because it only dawned upon me then that I would be getting Cody Keener’s sloppy seconds,” he answers, “I just couldn’t cope with that, I’m sorry,”

You slug him in the arm and he reacts overdramatically, as if someone stuck him with the pointy end of a knife. Onlookers included none other than Frank Vernon, Hugo Baker, and a close friend of your mom’s, Michelle Anne. This time, you and Roman had crossed paths at your father’s 70th birthday party. It was held at your parents’ penthouse on the Upper East Side and attracted a decent crowd. Faces you’d sworn you met pass you by as strangers come up to you, recounting memories of you who were only this tall. It was always a discombobulating experience but you continued to frolic and mingle nonetheless.

In truth, this little ‘reunion’ was nothing but a facade.

You and Roman had been talking for weeks now after years of no contact with one another. Brief texts turned into prolonged phone calls which by the end of the night became one-sided, pathetic voicemails expressing some sort of yearning for the other. It was becoming all-consuming and quite frankly, exhausting. And now it had finally come to blows.

There was a plan, there were contingencies (of course, there were) but above all—there was transparency. And that was something you could hold onto. Oh, the many men who lied their way into your bed. And then here comes Roman, who’d made it abundantly clear he’d rather inhale glass than have you worm your way into his. So this scheme would not transpire at his place or yours.

It would be occurring in a Central Park Suite at The Carlyle—just a quick jaunt from your parents’ place. He deigned to be a gentleman and handled the reservations as well as your transportation because you had to already be there. You were going to be lying on the bed, in some satiny sleepwear. No lingerie, no hosiery—nothing that could be construed as ‘sexy’. You were to look mundane, average, and bored.

Roman would enter and you would be still and let him do as he pleased. While you’d had this endeavor nailed to a T, you’d be lying if you said the prospect of him going off-script—doing things rougher, harder, doors off the hinges, letting his darker impulses get the better of him—didn’t make your knees buckle a bit.

So once the candles had been blown, the birthday wishes made, and goodbyes were said—you were to slide into his black Range Rover SV while his secondary chauffeur Crispin brought you to your destination. In your duffel was your change of clothes and a few other goodies. It had crossed your mind—once, twice how exceedingly easy it would be to bail right about now. Crispin could drop you off on the side of the road like some floozy and then your personal chauffeur could pick you up and drive you back to your cozy brownstone for a mundane evening spent by yourself—alone. That was the part that struck a pang in your stomach. That was the truly unbearable part. That, and the heat between your thighs which was starting to become really inconvenient.

…

Now was not the time to get cold feet.

You had already slid your sequin cocktail dress off and exchanged it for your satin sleepwear. Like the pretty kept thing he’d instructed you to be, you lay flat across the plush hotel mattress, awaiting his arrival, legs swinging to and fro like an eager teenage girl.

Maybe he’d be the one to pussy out.

At least then you’d have yet another thing to hold over his head for the foreseeable future. In your phone’s front-facing camera, you inspected the makeup you’d done earlier that evening for the party and it still seemed sufficient. Your lips seemed a bit drab. You roll off the bed and I sift through the contents of your bag, searching for the mauve lip color you’d brought along. Dabbing it onto the purse of your mouth while gazing into the mirror of the room’s modest vanity—you begin to lose track.

This isn’t it and you know it.

You know it.

So fucking do something about it.

Examining the time on the wall clock, you decide to hastily shake off your striped satin pj set and tear through your duffel for the sheer lace slip and matching long gloves. Not liking the unkemptness of your long hair at this particular moment, you palm your bag for one of the chignon French hairpins that had sunk their way to the bottom—a go-to for you since your younger years. The best you can muster is a half-up, loose, more-than-messy low bun because suddenly, a knock on the door can be heard. Your heart leaps into your throat and you shove your duffel bag into the armoire in a hurried panic. The click of the hotel room’s keycard lock comes next and you spring to the door as to be the one to open it. You and Roman meet each other’s gaze through the crack of the half-open door, you two beam down at your hands, enclosed over both sides of the handle. He is very noticeably startled, not expecting you to answer the door.

“C-Come on in,” you stutter, gesturing into the hotel suite with a gloved hand.

Roman’s mouth goes dry. It is not all that often the family jester is able to be truly caught off-guard. This absolutely was one of those times. He shuffles into the room with tepid steps and doesn’t turn around to face you until he hears the door click shut. With a blank, nonchalant expression—he shrugs, prompting you to provide some sort of explanation. Of which, you do not possess.

“What?” you say.

“What’s…all of that about?”

“Yeah, sorry…wasn’t really feeling the pajamas tonight. I opted for something I felt was a little more fitting. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No,”

He definitely fucking does mind actually. But any frustration at being caught unawares expresses itself in the form of big beautiful hazel eyes beaming at you with fear and uncertainty. His lips are parted, unable to form the words he can’t even begin to think of at this particular moment.

“So…,”

“...so…?”

“So…lay down,” you finally say.

Roman is able to briefly channel the smarmy assholeishness he usually hones with a sarcastic scoff and smirk. He shakes his head to himself before his gaze finds the floor.

“...I’m sorry, maybe you just didn’t hear me right the first time,” you say, crossing over until you are eye-to-eye with him and your competing breaths can be felt, “...or maybe I should’ve been a bit more specific.”

You lean in until your lips brush the outer shell of his right ear and he stops breathing.

“Roman. Lay the fuck down on that bed. Now.”

He quickly scrambles onto the bed, resting on his back while slightly sitting up. There is a tentative eagerness in his demeanor as if the last hints of resistance in his muscles had yet to dissipate.

“Good. Now can you unbutton your shirt by yourself or do you need my help?”

“...I-I-I need your help,” he mindlessly babbles, “P-Please. Please, can you help me?”

You click your tongue at his wanton request, attempting to maintain your composure. It was after the first ‘please’ that you knew you were going to willingly give everything in you to this man right then and there.

The safeguards? Fuck the safeguards.

The time for self-preservation was about five or so minutes ago before his knuckles had rapped gently on the heavy wooden door. Without breaking eye contact, you straddle him effortlessly, both knees on either side of his hips. You aren’t certain because all the blood had flooded to your ears and you were unable to hear much over the thumping of your own heartbeat but you swear you hear a quiet ‘oh god’ slip out of him. Your fingers find the buttons on his grey button-down and your wrists noticeably begin to shake as they undo them.

For fuck’s sake.

Up until this point, you had conjured the impression that you were the one in control here and that there was nothing he could say or do otherwise. But now the true vulnerability of the situation had begun to set in. The playing field had been leveled.

His fingers enrapture yours and he steadies your grasp as you both work to unbutton his shirt. Roman swallows, anxiously. You get more than half of the way there before he gives up and presses his face firmly to yours.

It’s a declarative kiss.

It’s long-lasting and when the two of you eventually break it—you know there’s no going back. Those hands of his, wracked with nerves, find their way to your hips. He slowly drags the lacey fabric up so your upper thighs are exposed. Once you can feel the soft flesh of your hips exposed to the cold air, you grab his wrists and he freezes.

“Ah-ah-ah, I don’t think I remember saying you could do that,”

“I-I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry. Don’t—I’m sorry,”

“So many apologies, they just keep on coming,”

“I’m…,” he deeply exhales out of his nose.

“You’re what? Wait, lemme guess,” you goad, “Sorry?”

He bobs his head up and down, face full of embarrassment.

“Hm…think I’m a little sick and tired of those ‘sorrys’, sweetie. You and that mouth of yours. Oh, that fuckin’ mouth of yours. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the amount of headaches it’s caused me in what, the two decades I’ve known you? What are we gonna finally do about that mouth?”

Roman looks up to you, hanging onto your every last word.

“I-I don’t know, j-just tell me what to do. I can make it up to you, I-I promise,”

You genuinely take a moment to mull it over, though the growing hardness pressing against your most intimate place admittedly was making it hard to think.

“...I think…we need to find another use for that mouth of yours—something to keep it busy, hm? How does that sound, my sweet baby?”

You swear his face goes pale as he assumes you mean your cunt. While the thought had crossed your mind (many, many times in fact), knowing Roman—you know that would be too much. And that you would lose him forever somewhere along the way and you didn’t even want to begin to think about that.

You tilt your head, staring longingly at that poor little boyish face of his. Your clothed index finger traces its way slowly from the exposed flesh of his tummy, up to his ribs, across his collarbone, along his Adam’s apple, over his bearded chin— finally stopping at his pinkish bottom lip. You pull it down, making him pout for you.

“Open for me,” you utter softly.

Roman obeys, his tongue moving upwards in his mouth when he swallows. You continue to tease around his mouth torturously, the lace creating a delicious friction against his beard. The heat of his pants against your lone finger makes you stir inside.

“Now, close your eyes—mouth still open,”

He noticeably resists before relenting, his eyes flutter closed. You drop one of the spaghetti straps of the slip off of your shoulder, exposing yourself. Your nipple pebbles in the cool air conditioning of the room. You awkwardly lean your torso inwards, inching your breast closer to his mouth. For a brief second, his eyes flick open, taking in the scene. Catching your drift instantly, he swallows as much of the soft flesh as his mouth will allow, moaning into it. The most obscene sucking sounds soon fill the room. Roman whimpers into your skin, letting his head fall limp against your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, cradling his head. His brown fluff of hair is too tempting for your hands to not tangle themselves in.

“There, you go…you’re so good. You’re so good for me, aren’t you? Yeah?” you sigh, tilting your head backward.

You swear you can feel your hips gyrating on their own. Roman’s fingers have ensnared themselves onto the flimsy fabric of your slip, gripping it so tight you think it might tear. Not that you’d give a shit if it did.

“Y’know what I think? I think you act the way you do all the fucking time because you’re just waiting for someone to come and put you in your place, is that right? Yeah? You’re a brat ‘cause you want someone to do this to you? Hm?”

He releases your nipple and an almost pornographic line of spit drools from his mouth. Roman’s lips are plump and rosy, kiss-bruised and swollen. You find out just how warm they’ve become when his wet mouth comes to meet your own in a kiss so messy, you know you’ll touch yourself thinking about it later.

“I-Is this good? A-Am I being a good boy for you?”

“Mm-hm, you’re being a very good boy for me. My good boy. Mommy’s good boy, right?”

“Yes, fuck, yes—” he sobs, moving onto your other breast.

His voice is shrill and wrought with desperation. You only ever heard it get this high-pitched when he was making a mocking impression of you or some other woman. And now here he was, making these noises all on his own. The edge of his bottom teeth catches your nipple in just the right away. You squeal, jolting upwards in his lap and laughing at the surprise sensation. He soothes the sensitive skin with the flat of his tongue immediately after.

“That’s it. There’s my boy, there’s my sweet baby boy,”

All of the sudden, his hands leave your slip and fly to the buckle of his belt. Roman undoes his zipper and shimmies down his slacks enough to pull his dick out. He jerks it quickly with his eyes wound tightly shut in an attempt to get himself completely hard.

“M-Mommy, c-can I see ‘it’? P-Please, god!” Roman begs out.

Your current position leaves his cock hidden by the hem of your slip. All you can see is the silhouette of his fist in the fabric pumping up and down speedily—relentlessly. He could easily just lift the skirt himself and look at your bare pussy, just as he hungrily wants but he doesn’t.

He waits. He waits for you to give him permission.

“See what, sweet boy? Say it, use your words for me. You’re a big boy, you can do it. I know you can,”

Your hands cup his face and you rest your forehead on his. The skin is taught and slick with sweat. A vein above his brow becomes visible as he strains into his own palm.

“What do you want, Roman?” you reiterate, trying to regain his attention.

“Fff-fuck! Your p-pussy, I wanna see y-your pussy!”

“All together. Say it all together. Say ‘Mommy, can I please see your pretty pussy?’”

“Mommy, can I please see your pretty pussy?”

His eyes finally open and they aim downwards, expectantly.

“Is that all you want, pretty boy?”

“N-N-yes!”

“Is that all you want?”

“No! No, I wanna cum, I-I wanna f-f-finish! W-Wanna finish on it,” he whines.

“All together, baby…”

“Mommy, can I please finish on your pretty pussy?! Please!”

It’s on the last syllable of his sentence that he erupts. Only as he’s cumming is he able to look at your cunt. You swiftly move the fabric up and his load catches the edge of it, the rest of it coating your exposed pussy. Roman falls backwards limp onto the pillow and you roll off of him and the bed and onto your jelly-like legs. The two of you don’t look at each other, occupying opposite sides of the room while you make yourselves decent. You shed your stained garment, using it to wipe your cunt clean. You fling it onto the hotel carpet and don’t think twice about it.

“Mind if I…borrow that…for a bit?” a weak voice croaks from across the suite.

You turn your head and smirk, still topless.

“All yours.”

Briefly, you catch a glimpse of Roman from behind, buttoning up his shirt. You pull up your dress, sweatier than before when you had taken it off. You expected there to be a palpable shift between the two of you, had everything gone according to plan. You figured the next RECNY ball that was just around the corner might be a bit awkward but it was nothing a few sarcastic quips and some alcohol couldn’t fix.

“My guy’s still waiting out front, so that’s my not-so-stealthy getaway. I can have Crispin pull around in twenty if I guess, I dunno, you wanted to shower the stank off of y…”

Roman’s words trail off as he becomes caught up in the sight of you; your cocktail dress zipped up halfway, your hair in an even messier updo than before, one heel on with the other remaining to be seen. It left him dumbfounded, feeling impulsive, like he could leave everything behind then and there and things might turn out alright.

“Um…d’you maybe wanna just come with me…I dunno. Back at my place, I mean. And don’t make it into…it’s not a thing. Th-This is not a thing. But, yeah, we could order in whatever you, you could stay over, I-I got spare rooms–”

“Roman—”

“—it-its not like a big deal or anything, y’know? This isn’t, this wasn’t ‘a thing’. Fuckin’ labels and everything, I m—”

“Roman! That all sounds fine; I just would like to exit one of the nicest hotels in the damn city not looking like a two-bit whore, yeah? Come and zip me up,”

“I mean, if you ask me—I think it’s a rather fitting look,” he says, echoing your previous words.

“ROMAN!”

“Alright, fuck, fine!”

End.

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dollycxre · 1 year ago

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yandere PJO! athena x demigod! darling 🗡🦉 - general hcs

!!WARNINGS!!: yandere, obsessive and stalkerish behavior, manipulation, really harsh and cruel punishments, Athena loves watching you suffer, clinginess, possessiveness, isolation, deceiving, jealousy, threats, mentions of violence, she's slightly toxic but her immortal heart is in the right place, I lied she's really toxic please don't ever get in a relationship with someone like her

pairing/s: yandere pjo!athena x demigod!darling

A/N: there wasn't enough athena content so I decided to do it myself :) also, this is my first fic and English is not my first language so I apologise for any spelling errors and such!

• you were a demigod who had somehow survived and become an adult, which now meant you had to find something to do. After the roman camp, camp Jupiter and your own camp; camp half-blood had made peace, the older campers from your camp had started going to the college in camp Jupiter. You were bored and decided that it wouldn't hurt to go to college and find something to do after the war against Gaia

• so you started studying harder in the mortal school you went to, preparing to apply to the college. it was a little hard to concentrate, with all the monsters attracted to your scent who had decided that you would make quite the tasty demigod snack and all the jobless mortals who somehow didn't find the time to grow up and instead decided to make your life as hard as possible

• you decided to drop out and study on your own instead, knowing that there was an option to take an entrance exam instead, something you found out from Chiron during an orientation Mr. D reluctantly conducted after mixing several ounces of wine into his diet coke

• to make your task easier, you went to the smartest people you knew; the athena campers, to help you study and of course they were more than happy to. And so, the daily visits to their cabin began

• and that, is when you caught the eye of the very goddess of wisdom and war who the cabin was dedicated to; Athena herself

• at first, she didn't think much of you, just another demigod in her cabin, probably to consult with one of her children, quite a common occurrence, considering how smart her children were, a trait they got from their mother

• but as you started to visit her cabin more and more frequently, she couldn't help but pay attention to you. to her surprise, you wouldn't leave her mind. you always occupied her thoughts and she found herself unable to concentrate

• at first she dismissed it, she always had mortals and demigods alike peak her interest but they faded eventually

• however, no matter how hard she tried, she found herself watching you for hours, learning everything about you and observing your smallest habits

• once she learned about your ambition to go to college and the reason why you visited her cabin, she used her powers to encourage you to focus, allowing your brain to learn easier and faster

• when she couldn't take the unhealthy way you invaded her thoughts anymore, she decided to act on it. she visited her demigod children in their dreams and told them to act as if she was a regular demigod when she showed up at camp. her children, confused but unable to derive their mother's true intentions and wanting to please her, agreed

• the next day, a well dressed yet stand offish girl, about your age, with stunningly intelligent gray eyes approached you outside your cabin and asked you to accompany her and show her around. you were a little stunned since you weren't popular or well known enough in camp to be actively sought out but agreed and started showing the mysterious girl around

• once you finished, she was claimed by athena and you lead her to Cabin 6. you found it odd how everyone in the cabin seemed to stress about her and flinch as if she was liable to burst into flames at any moment but you dismissed it.

• after all, even you felt the very clear aura radiating about the strange girl, the way she talked as if she was much much older and mature than she let on and the pure air of intelligence that seemed to hang about her, the way her piercing gray eyes seemed to calculate every move you made and how her thoughts seemed universes ahead, beyond human comprehension

• she made you lightly uneasy but you soon found out she was the only one who truly understood how your brain worked. with her, your studies went better than you could have ever imagined and you finished your work effortlessly with her. the athena campers however, still seemed jumpy around her, particularly Annabeth, the head counsellor and one of the seven to save the world against Gaia

• you dismissed it again, choosing to turn a blind eye to the girl who had caught your heart. it was almost impossible not to fall for her, the way she made you laugh just with her brutally honest yet knowledgeable words, the way her beautiful gray eyes picked up on every thought that passed in your head and the way she noticed and admired all your little mannerisms

• this girl was, of course, Athena in disguise, choosing to make you fall in love as an ordinary demigod as she knew that claiming you as hers would be a much easier task if your heart was already hers

• once she was positive that she had you wrapped around her finger, she immediately revealed her true form and confessed boldly to you and of course you accepted, mostly out of fear of what would happen to you if you rejected a goddess, not to mention one of the most powerful ones

• Athena, being the goddess of wisdom, is the smartest of the yandere gods. Once she has you, she won't make you immortal like other gods would, instead, she binds your life force to hers, which allows you to function as an immortal but feel pain like a mortal

• she loves using this against you for punishment and her most common punishments are letting you teeter on the brink of death while you suffer in pain and misery

• she's a paranoid goddess and keeps you far far away from the other Olympians. She knows that the minor gods are too terrified to try to cross her or even look in your direction so she doesn't worry about them. She's mostly worried that someone (*cough cough* aphrodite *cough cough*) will take your heart and the casualties of the wars that would follow would have a devasting effect on your mental health

• she only trusts Hestia and occasionally, Artemis with you

• Hestia because she would probably love and take care of you like a daughter in her hearth and Artemis because she would be too busy to pay enough attention to you for you to fall for her, only giving her attention to make sure you were alive and in one piece

• she will also sometimes drop you off at her cabin in camp half-blood, partially so you can reunite with your friends and visit the camp which had been your home for so long and partially so that her children can keep an eye on you

• she warns her children not to let you out of their sight and as a result, you are constantly tailed by atleast 2 of the cabin 6 campers, eager to please their difficult mother and earn her favor

• anyone who hurts you or dares to fall for you is in for a nasty fate

• Athena may not have as much power as Zeus or as much time to craft her punishments like Hera but being the goddess of wisdom and war comes with the additional perks of being able to think up one of the most horrible punishments ever known in a matter of rage filled seconds so most of the campers tend to stay out of your way, which is both depressing and a relief

• she wants you to be the perfect partner for her, someone gullible and dependant so she'll break you with no remorse or hesitation, knowing that you'll imerge from the trauma as her perfect lover

• if your godly parent dares to try to help you escape, she will find out and she will make sure you regret ever getting the ridiculous thought of leaving her

• if your godly parent is a minor god, they wouldn't dare help you, even if they feel pity for you or anger at Athena. She is not a force to be reckoned with and with love influencing her moves, she will make sure they wish they never even tried

• if your godly parent is one of the olympians, they would probably be more defiant and against your relationship but they would still be too scared to try to act too much on it. Athena is a ruthless goddess and though the most rational, for you, she would willingly start a war without caring for the casualties. They may try to help you escape but Athena is always several thoughts ahead. No matter which scenario, which plan, she's already thought about it and prepared for it accordingly, even preparing the horrifying punishment she will inflict upon you for going along with it

• she loves to use the powers you got from your godly parents against you, just to show you how helpless you are even in your own parent's domain

• her child of Hephaestus s/o was sent a bunch of material and celestial bronze by their father so that they can build something to help them escape? she will personally use those very materials to craft the most terrifying monster she can think of at that moment and let you fight it till you almost die from exhaustion, your only weapon a sword made of celestial bronze while she watches with cruel amusement as you scurry about like a rat in a maze

• oh you're a child of Poseidon who was visited by Poseidon in their dreams and advised on how to best use their powers to escape into their father's territory and claim his protection? she will drag you by your hair to the Underworld and throw you into river Styx and let you dissolve and drown in as you pointlessly fight for breath in what should be your area of expertise, your brain in too much pain and too panicked to think straight, until she's thinks you've learnt your lesson

• Athena has already memorized all your habits and routines. she knows everything about you and will instantly notice if even the slightest thing changes. Thats when she goes on panic mode and isolates you completely, not letting you see anyone but herself and spending time with you until she's convinced you've gotten all other thoughts but her out of your mind

• in short, if you want life to be as easy as you can possibly have it when your fate is entangled with an immortal, you should give in to her completely and as soon as possible which would make life a lot less painful for both you and her

• on a softer note, Athena is very proud of you and shows you off to everyone she possibly can once she decides you're too deeply in love with her to ever fall for anyone else

• she's your number 1 supporter and loves watching you work on your hobbies, praising everything and giving as much helpful criticism as she can

• she'd be delighted if one of your hobbies was also one of hers, such as reading or weaving and loves quietly reading to you in her calm, deep yet soothing voice while you play with her hair or weaving you the most gorgeous tapestries of you to make you feel as confident about your self as she can

• she knows exactly what to do to cheer you up and knows enough about you to know what you need through all your emotions which means that she's always comforting to talk to when you're going through difficulties. she's an amazing listener and will quietly listen to your problems and advise you on the best ways to deal with them

• she can easily make you laugh or cry with her words, her knowledge of you letting her know what evokes emotions in you and what doesn't which allows her to manipulate your emotions with ease, letting her twist you into whatever she wants

• Athena has never been a touchy-feely kind of goddess, nor has she ever wanted it. that is, until she met you, of course.

• she is surprisingly clingy and attached to you and definitely has separation anxiety. she loves having you touch her, the contact alone is enough to make her shudder in happiness and relief

• she feels like your affection is a drug she's addicted to and as a result, she's very needy, demanding that you go everywhere with her and will always have her hand around some part of you, making sure everyone knows who's you are while satisfying her need for your touch

• she may decide to immortalize your closest friends and family if you really desperately ask beg for her to and if you behave well for her

• however, from then on, her neediness increases tenfold. she believes that since she's done you such a huge favor by allowing you to have your loved ones coexist and keep you company for eternity, you should always be ready to drop everything and come running to her when she feels like she wants or needs it

• doesn't really care about the possibility of one of your friends falling for you, she knows both of you will be too scared to ever act on it and if it goes too far, she always has the cruelest punishments prepared for both of you, a message that comes across plain and simple: don't take what's hers.

• she could quietly stare at you and study you for HOURS because no matter what you're doing, she finds you to be the most gorgeous and fascinating person on the earth, a creature so perfect, they managed to catch the attention of the goddess who always believed that she was completely immune to the magic of love, someone who relied on rational thought rather than feelings

• every time she looks at aphrodite, all she sees is you <3

• well you if you were a self absorbed, cunning, well dressed, 7 foot tall goddess

• the point is, she loves you, she has never and will never love anyone like she loves you and you will be her pride and joy, always by her side, till the end of time, living with her and loving her till existence itself crumbles to dust.

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A/N: heyyy, so this turned out longer than I thought it would but the amount of ideas I kept getting made it kinda impossible not to add but yea :) I hope you enjoyed!

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presidentstalkeyes · 3 months ago

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Pines Family Headcanons (Take 2)

I know I already did something like this, but that was a while ago and my headcanons have evolved since then, and my fixation brain is in Pines mode again so here we go! (Mostly focused on the Mystery Twins but with some attention to the older generations scattered about)

Past:

The first member of the Pines family to arrive in America in the 1800s was Gabriel Penzak, a Sephardic Jew from somewhere in the Balkans. His last name was changed to Pines at Ellis Island, and his family later assimilated into the majority-Ashkenazi Jewish community in New Jersey. He was the father of Elmer Pines and grandfather of Filbrick.

Filbrick was the youngest of four brothers (the others were Philip, Fillmore and Fulton). He was the 'weakest' of the four, compensating with his intellect and business sense. He was also born with highly sensitive eyesight - flashes of light would blind him for hours - requiring dark glasses later in life.

His eyesight also meant he was passed over for the draft in WWII. Since all three of his brothers died in the war, this possibly saved his life. As a young man, he operated and maintained film projectors at a traveling carnival, under a boss who taught him many tricks (and bore a resentment towards 'freak show' acts, viewing them as talentless). It was here he met - and accidentally impregnated - his future wife Caryn.

Caryn Romanoff's parents were Pavel, a grizzled sailor, and Tanya, a fortune-teller - both Ukrainian Jews who fled to America to escape persecution from Stalin's Soviet Union. She also had two siblings - older brother Dimitri, a troublemaker and later hatchet-man for the Mafia (never a made man due to his non-Italian ancestry, but close enough for his family to disown him) and little sister Shprintze, who was married three times and had five children in total, all of them named after Roman emperors (except for her only daughter Cleopatra).

Filbrick and Caryn's first son was Shermie, born in 1947. Their second sons, Stanford and Stanley, came 8 years later in 1954. Shermie was a star athlete in high school and always kinda distant from his little brothers, in addition to being Filbrick's obvious favourite. Also a notorious flirt and brought many girls back to the pawn shop (and distracting Stanford from his homework with the resulting noises), and tattled on Stanley for bringing a possum into the store, forcing him to let Shanklin go. Was later drafted into the Vietnam War in the 60s, missing out on Stan's eviction from the house. When he returned from the war, the first thing he did after finding out he was a brother short was to track down Ford and deck him in the face.

While in Hawaii on R&R, Shermie started a relationship with a local waitress called Wikiola Kale. After getting pregnant with his daughter, Wikiola got a plane ticket all the way to NJ to ask Shermie's parents to look after the child, being too poor to raise a child herself. Filbrick almost slammed the door in her face until Caryn intervened. The baby - Louise - was the one in Caryn's arms the night Stan was kicked out.

Louise Pines first grew up in Glass Shard, then moved to L.A. after her dad married a rich businesswoman called Fiona Safesmith (the relationship with Wikiola having not worked out). Fiona was a less-than-ideal stepmom, trying to force her daughter to go into acting and disparaging her interest in DD&D and mystery novels. She also cheated on her husband after an old war injury acted up and he lost the use of his legs, and later went to prison for tax fraud.

Louise would later get a degree in criminology and met a computer geek, amateur ufologist and 'radical cool dude' called Emile Sauvageon (who ran away from a strict, isolated religious family). They started a relationship and had twins in 1999: Mason and Mabel.

Present:

Dipper and Mabel's full names are Mason Emile Pines and Mabel Louise Pines, respectively.

Lou and Em only moved to Piedmont on Shermie's recommendation (and with his money). They would regularly clash with their neighbours for their 'weird' habits (and refusing to maintain their lawn). They considered themselves the arch-enemies of the local HWA.

Em worked at a fancy silicon valley tech start-up, while Lou was a private investigator (the boring realistic kind that mostly deals with insurance fraud and the occasional adulterer).

When he was little, Emile used to wow his son with stories about he was secretly an awesome space pirate with a cosmic ancestry, evidenced by Dipper's birthmark. And Dipper believed him. Really believed him. When his dad finally told him the truth, he did not take it well. Dipper also butted heads with his mom a lot over the existence of the supernatural - she would encourage him to examine things rather than blindly accept them, but he'd often think she was just doubting him for no reason. In short, he had some trust issues with his parents.

Dipper did have some friends in elementary school, but most of them moved away, and in middle school he alienated his fellow nerds after he was kicked out of the tabletop gaming club for being too rules lawyer-y. The resulting slump also lead to him falling behind on band practice.

Mabel is asexual and aromantic, but didn't realize it until much later. Finding she was drifting apart from her friends, she wrongfully attributed it to not having a crush (in truth they simply started to see her as immature and embarassing to be around - you know how kids can get :V). Not wanting to be 'left behind', she dedicated the summer in Gravity Falls to getting a romance as 'proof' that she was a totally grown-up big gal now (while her only reference material were 80s animated comedies and age-inappropriate romance novels).

Mabel very nearly didn't get to go to Gravity Falls at all - she was in danger of being forced to go to summer school due to poor grades (unlike her brother - and like her Grunkle Stan - she experienced great difficulty with any subject involving figures and rote memorization, especially math, the sciences, and computer studies). Only a week of late-night cram sessions spared her from this fate.

Contributing to the above, she also suffered from a form of anterograde amnesia - she would easily forget things that happened just the day before - sometimes even less - until presented with a reminder, usually in the form of an object or person, often her brother. She originally started scrapbooking to help her remember things. This wasn't diagnosed until a year after that summer.

Dipper was in the Boy Scouts in 2011. He hated the experience, camping out in the woods with no games or books, not relating to the other boys and resenting being ordered around by his hardass ex-army Scoutmaster. But he did get a merit badge in astro-navigation, so that's something.

Mabel had a brief stint in the Girl Scouts as well. She quit after an attempt to sell cookies somehow ended with her troop being chased out of a neighbourhood by a knife-wielding maniac in a bathrobe. To this day she's only told Dipper the full story.

One time, Dipper watched Small Soldiers and subsequently destroyed all his action figures checking them for military control chips. He was also banned from Chuck E. Cheese after his 7th birthday when he checked the animatronics for anything suspicious and made Pasquale's head fall off in front of everyone (on the same trip, Mabel tried to get the animatronic band freed from their exploitative contract so they could pursue their true musical potential).

One of Mabel's favourite movies is Rocky IV. For a long time she genuinely believed that's how the Cold War ended and was very disappointed to learn that wasn't the case.

Mabel had a bug-catching phase when she was 10, spurred on by all the creepy-crawlies that would nest in their unmaintained lawn. She'd catch bugs in jars and invite them to have tea and review movies with her. This came to an end after one of the jars smashed and released fireflies all over the house. She was finding descendants of Francisco the Firefly living in the basement as late as 2014.

Lou and Em were not getting divorced - they merely had a fight about paying off their mortgage after Em lost his job, and Dipper simply overreacted and assumed the worst. They sent the kids away that summer while they got their affairs in order. In the end, they had to sell the house and move into a cheaper apartment in Oakland.

Future:

When they first returned from Gravity Falls, the twins' grades took a nosedive as they had difficulty re-adjusting to mundane life, experiencing frequent traumatic episodes and refusing to follow instructions. Their parents had to be called in multiple times after both twins got into a fight in the hallway because another kid made up some dumb rumour that they'd joined a cult or had been abused by their 'creepy uncle', or were just faking their episodes for attention. They were only spared mandatory counseling thanks to emergency 'how to pretend to be normal' coaching from the Grunks.

Dipper has to start wearing glasses a few months after leaving Gravity Falls. Mabel of course made fun of this, thinking that only the male Pineses turn short-sighted (and forgetting about her mom). She had to start wearing glasses at 16, to which Dipper only replied by smugly grinning at her.

In high school, Mabel started a knitting club, which ended up being the most popular club in school - mostly because she insisted that it was a safe space for anyone, and anyone who tried anything funny would have their lives made hell. In her clubroom, nerds, preps, goths and jocks sat side-by-side in peace.

Mabel also took up sports, especially wrestling, becoming captain of the girls' wrestling team by Junior year. She took up a high-protein diet to build her strength - this combined with a childhood spent binging candy finally catching up to her lead to her putting on a lot of weight. By adulthood she's developed what she calls a 'sumo bod' - chubby, but strong (and great for hugs).

Meanwhile, Dipper took up track and gymnastics while regularly going to the gym - to the shock of everyone, as getting pre-Gravity Falls Dipper to exercise was like pulling teeth. If he was gonna have to brave another apocalypse, he didn't want to be saddled with noodle arms. By his 20s, the combination of his 'baby face' with his square jaw and muscular body has attracted a good amount of attention from girls (and boys) - attention he is alternately mildly perturbed by or totally oblivious to.

Dipper also devoted extra effort to his art skills, hoping to achieve the same level as Ford. Sometimes he'd climb up onto rooftops to get a good view of the landscape to draw, and then add a completely gratuitous monster because why not?

Despite his best efforts, Dipper was never able to overcome Mabel's height advantage. In fact, in their teen years she gained a few extra inches on him.

Dipper still regularly wears hats even as an adult - though he's no longer self-conscious about his birthmark, he's been wearing hats for so long it feels weird not to. It's like his 'thing' - Mabel has her sweaters, he has his hats.

Past his school years, Dipper mostly goes by Mason, especially with strangers - 'Dipper' is reserved for friends and family.

Dipper got a doctorate in forensic science at college, and also interned at a coroner's office. He also did some work as a runner on a film set, but the experience at the Used To Be About History Channel soured him on show business. Instead, after getting his doctorate he decided to take up Ford's offer to apprentice under him from years before, hoping to become a paranormal investigator in his own right (incidentally, Candy Chiu took the same offer, and now they work together).

Mabel went to college too, but didn't particularly want to, only going because she felt pressured. She ended up dropping out after the first year and still feels aimless, not knowing what to do with her life. She currently still lives with her parents and has a decently fulfilling job at an independent haberdashery (sweaters will always be there for her), but she's not sure that's what she wants to do.

Both twins are adored by Soos and Melody's 6-year-old kids (also twins) - they're considered honourary Uncle DipDip and Aunt MayMay.

When he turned 16, Soos gave Dipper his old truck - as much as he liked it, he can't exactly stick his kids in the cargo bay. Mabel meanwhile drives the Mabel-Mobile, an old Soviet military van painted pink with a huge shooting star mural, plus a liberal amount of graffitti and bumper stickers. Where she got it remains a mystery - not even she seems to remember.

Mabel has a serious weakness for booze. She experimented a lot with various substances during her brief time at college, but cocktails really stuck. When she's drunk, she tends to shift between giddy and sentimental, grumpy and ranty, and depressed and regretful. You know she's had too much when she starts singing about 'Lady Apocalypse'.

Dipper never got as into that stuff himself, but he was introduced to weed by Wendy, relying on it to calm his anxieties during exam season. He's currently trying to wean himself off it by means of alternate herbal cigarettes.

Waddles had to be sent back to Gravity Falls after a few years, since he rapidly grew too big to keep at Piedmont. He currently lives in a lean-to next to the Shack that Soos built. He still regularly sees Gompers, to Mabel's delight.

Wendy also got both twins into tattoos, convincing Mabel to get a huge shooting star on her upper right arm. For her 18th birthday she also got a special pair of tats on the forearms - a pair of arrows with the right marked 'Fasten In Case Of Hug!'. Dipper was reluctant at first, but caved when Mabel designed him a 'pine tree heart' emblem, which he wears on his right shoulder.

Both twins are in a special 'Never Mind All That' group chat, along with almost everyone else in the Zodiac, plus Candy and Grenda (but not Gideon). Mabel had the idea for a 'hotline' of sorts that they could message whenever the old post-apocalypse trauma started acting up - knowing from experience how important is to have people to remind you they're there.

Every year on the anniversary of the end of Weirdmageddon, both twins visit Bill's petrified body, and scribble tally marks on his face - one for each year, alternating between Dipper's blue marker and Mabel's pink one (this is something I've already mentioned elsewhere but I felt like it deserved to be at the end. :P)

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cupids-dove · 7 months ago

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That's Not My Neighbor Head cannons I won't stop thinking about.

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Arabella (oc):

Hopeless romantic

That one friend who's always dressed nicely even when having a breakdown

Would bail you out of jail

Easily flustered

Swears in french but says it in a sweet way, so people think she's complimenting them.

Can't pronounce "declaration"

Very insecure but acts like she's the best

Likes to be the dumb blonde because arguing with men is dumb

Dramatic queen

Marina and the Diamonds coded

Francis:

Runs off of coffee 24/7

Forgets to eat all the damn time

At some point he stopped giving a fuck about doppels

MAN CANNOT FLIRT TO SAVE HIS LIFE (it's okay bc he's unintentionally hot)

Terrible at English (grammar, etc)

Some days just talks in mumbles, and no one ever knows wtf he says

Punched a doppel without realizing it (he thought it was his coworker who wouldn't leave him tf alone-)

Milkshakes are a guilty pleasure

Got chased by a dog during a delivery, and now hates them

Basically, the batman of the building

Nacha:

Bicurious fr fr

A girl's girl

Type of woman to have pads/tampons/liners, etc, in case anyone needs one

Drops off food for Francis because she knows he forgets to eat

Honestly the best mom ever-

She's actually not very good at baking

Her relationship with Francis was: the opposite eyes where one is like happy and the other is tired-

Or like: grew up with a big family x grew up an only child

The one who actually suggested the divorce

Left handed

Has an odd fascination with pears

Anastacha:

She walked in on her parents once, and now whenever Nacha needs her, she has to go to Ana instead of Ana going to her.

Thinks it's cheesy her name is so similar to her mom's

Pretty close to both her parents

I think she'd really like The Addams Family

Good at math

Picked up saying "whatever" from upper classmen

Kinda hates the idea of romance

The type of person to just stare into your soul but in reality was zoning out (got that from her dad fr fr)

Likes picking flowers to bring to her mom after school

Steven:

Bad boy with a heart of gold

Looks like a fboy but this guy got no bitches

Kinda dumb most of the time, but gets serious when it comes to piloting

The cool uncle

Wear sunglasses even if he can't see shit

Insecure about his eyes

Definitely the type to try and fight a goose

He's an only child and wishes he had some younger siblings

Doesn't like to drink all that much

Definitely knows how to play guitar or some sort of instrument

Mclooy:

Most loyal man ever

His wife died before the doppelgangers, but once you get him talking about her he won't shut up

Taught Steven how to play guitar

Everytime he smokes he thinks of how his wife would nag him about it </3

A lot of the guys go to him for advice

I imagine he's got one of those warm hearty laughs

Was in the military for a bit

Worries about Steven everytime he goes out

Doesn't understand mental health, but does his best

Lois:

Sweetest old woman, you'll ever meet.

Carries candy on her all the time

Loves roses so much

Her and her husband are definitely grumpy x soft

Can be kind of an air head sometimes

Had a dog named Puffles when she was young

Has at least 3 kids who write her letters with pressed flowers, which she keeps

Never really liked pearls until Roman bought her a pearl necklace

She's a bit tone deaf

Roman:

Grumpiest man ever

Questions how he ever got with Lois

Knows how to play piano

Is very good with numbers

Hates he's balding but Lois reassures him all the time he's still handsome

Very uncoordinated man

Dislikes pomegranates for some reason

Loves his children very much and gives financial advice

Selenne:

More on the slim and regal side

Has begged Arabella for clothing advice

Loves matching with Elenois

Hates being separated from her sister

The friend who goes partying every night

Definitely the type to gossip with her sister

Cannot keep a secret to SAVE HER LIFE

Has the tendency to talk about topics she doesn't fully understand

Elenois:

Does Selenne's makeup because Selenne always begs her to

Definitely has accidentally called herself by her sister's name

Technically the older twin

Worries that she's not as pretty as her sister even though they look alike

A secret lesbian

Wears cherry chapstick

Hated yellow/orange at first and grew to really like it.

The type to scold you about doing something wrong, but in the process is giving you comfort items

If it wasn't for her sister encouraging her to join her in modeling. She probably would've been a sectary.

Mia:

Loves the color red WITH. A. PASSION.

Loves receiving apples too <3

Probably smells like apple blossoms too-

Very good at English

Teaches third graders

Wants to be a mother with lots and lots of kids

Her relationship with Dr. W. Afton is literally gorgeous wife x dork

Loves her silly fiance

Dyes he hair blonde

Dr. W. Afton:

Man is clueless

Also has no idea how he bagged such a beautiful woman

Loves how smart Mia is

Does questionable shit all the time

Has a thing for bunnies that doesn't feel entirely normal

Has been mistaken for a doppel by neighbors because sometimes he creeps them out

He gives me quiet kid

Definitely grew up with no siblings and extremely awkward around other women

Looks like he would freak out over a bug

Angus:

This man MOST DEFINITELY knows how to dance

He reminds me of Waluigi

He looks like he enjoys pineapple on pizza

A lady's man fr fr

Would treat you so well

A romantic

Smokes a lot, though, because work is hard

Drinks red wine

Has a fancy ass bathrobe that lowkey Slenne is jealous of

Izaack:

Chad

Peaked in highschool

Nosiest mf ever

He's somewhat sweet

Misogynist

Very good at his job

Likes Selenne and gives her all the gossip

Has flirted with all the women in the building at LEAST once (shoot ur shot ig)

He's most proud of his jaw line

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Author's note: Someone should lmk if I should do more :P also I might do something with Arabella more dive deeper into her- I'm just doing this for fun, for myself really because I was just gonna wrote most of these in my notes app. I doubt many people will read this so-

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apocryphics · 12 days ago

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INTERVIEWER

Clearly there's a deep connection between your understanding of the Holocaust and your theory of interpretation. Could you talk a bit about that?

STEINER

The key issue here is the sense of what cannot be analyzed or explained. A major act of interpretation gets nearer and nearer to the heart of the work, and it never comes too near. The exciting distance of a great interpretation is the failure, the distance, where it is helpless. But its helplessness is dynamic, is itself suggestive, eloquent and articulate. The best acts of reading are acts of incompletion, acts of fragmentary insight, of that which refuses paraphrase, metaphrase; which finally say, “The most interesting in all this I haven't been able to touch on.” But which makes that inability not a humiliating defeat or a piece of mysticism but a kind of joyous invitation to reread.

Now, I'm still staying in the aesthetic, but I'll come on to your question about the connection with the Holocaust, and I hope it will be clearer then. There was once a little boy, Paul Klee, and he used to be marched out of Bern, where he was brought up, on school picnics, the most boring of possible Swiss occasions. One day his class was brought in front of a Roman aqueduct, and the teacher was explaining how much water it carried, how it was built. Klee was eleven years old, and he always had his sketch pad with him. He sketched the aqueduct and put shoes on the pillars. All aqueducts have walked since that day; you can't see an aqueduct that isn't walking. Picasso is going down a street. He sees a child's tricycle. A billion people have seen children's tricycles on the streets. Picasso flips it with his hand, making the saddle the face of the bull and the handlebars the two horns. No one else had ever done that, and since then all tricycles charge at you with their horns. No one has ever explained this, nor has anyone explained what Lévi-Strauss calls the supreme mystery of all human knowledge: “the invention of melody.” This is one of the sentences most important to me. I delight in the sense of the inadequacy of one's passionate attempts to get nearer. This is the wonder of it. Mountaineers tell you of the postcoital sadness when they're at the top of a previously unclimbed peak, but we never get to the top of the ontology of the aesthetic or the question of the meaning of meaning or the question of the origin of language.

Ours is one of the blackest centuries in terms of death, in terms of torture, massacre. I read with genuine respect the economists who tell us that communism or fascism can be analyzed by a good theory of economics or industrialism; or the sociologists who speak of class conflicts, the sociological structure of the city at that time, and so on. The historians all have ideas too. Like all of us I try to keep up with the people who say, “I can explain it to you.” It doesn't work for me. There may be exciting partial insights, for example, in the notion that there are in the death camps aspects of a factory. Fine, that's a brilliant insight. I want to think about it. Maybe it's very illuminating. Or when I'm told that Nazism as distinct from Stalinism is based on lower-middle-class instabilities and resentments, I'm very interested. But these explanations, important as they may be, do not help me grapple with the facts.

The facts are that when Hitler's high command said to him, “Führer, we desperately need the trains for fuel, for armaments; just give us four weeks of not shipping people to the death camps,” he replied that far more important than winning the war was the destruction of all Jews. The notion that he is mad doesn't work for me at all. He was very unmad. Nor does it help me when I know that Stalin destroys a large part of his educated population systematically while planning the greatness of the Soviet Union.

So I work with explanations of a completely different kind. In the Enlightenment, in the early 1760s, Voltaire, after defending a number of people successfully, issues the statement, “One thing is certain: there will not be the use of torture again in civilized Europe.” A few years later, Thomas Jefferson, one of the shrewdest, toughest minds ever, says that he can promise — he actually uses the word promise — that there will never be any return to the burning of books. I have an anthology of statements like that. Not by naive fools, but by some of the toughest, most ironic minds. There is a Catholic proto-fascist thinker called de Maistre, who sits at the edge laughing his head off and writes a sheer masterpiece called The Evenings of St. Petersburg. He says that as it happens, the twentieth century will be drowned in blood in Europe; that there will be camps for the systematic slaughter of human beings. He works with a quite different theory, that of original sin.

de Maistre says, in effect, “Please explain to me the nature of history.” If we are rational Homo sapiens on the road upward, what are we doing to each other? Why are our wars getting more murderous? Why are famines getting bigger? If, on the other hand, there were some mode of an original dis-grace — very powerful word when you put in the hyphen; disgrace has become such a small word: dis-grace, fall from grace, interruption of some kind of relationship to God — then history is a punishment, and we have stumbled into history essentially to suffer and we will continue so till the end, until we either massacre ourselves with a thermonuclear bomb, or our cities implode, as they now may, or there is famine, or finally there is an AIDS which cannot be checked. The whole doctrine of original sin. How do you operate with such a doctrine? I don't know. I call it a working metaphor.

#george steiner #interview #fragments

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rachelsfav-queer · 6 months ago

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Enid and Wends twin kids as toddlers, the first time they see momma Enid (Wends is Mother) and they’re terrified, Wends is able to calm them down a little, but it’s only when Enid gets close and the kids can tell from the scent that’s its their momma and they waddle over and bury themselves in her fur

Alright, gonna do my best to answer as many asks that are already in my inbox as I can. Hopefully this goes well lmaoooo. I might only answer one or two though so don’t hate me, hate my adhd. I already do

ANYWAY!!!

This is so damn cute, I love it so much!!! I love Wenclair’s children having werewolf characteristics, like heightened senses like smell, hearing, sight, etc. and even acting like puppies when they’re younger lol. And them being twins is just- ughhh it’s giving me so many ideas lmaoooo.

Like each twin sharing more personality with one of their moms, while obviously still being a mix of both their personalities. So like one has more in common with Wednesday, sharing her darker interests and all, while the other is more like Enid, and sharing her interests instead. But then they actually like spending more time with their opposite in their moms (not like favorites or anything, idk how to explain it damn it).

Okay okay okay!!! WE NEED NAMES!!!! So Wednesday and Enid both work together to name their children, but they do get to name each of them individually. (Again, idk how to explain this) But Wednesday names one of them Augustus, after the Roman emperor, but as they get older, they choose to go by Auggie instead and they actually identify as agender! Their other child, Enid names her Gwen!

Auggie has more of Wednesday’s personality and interests, but usually likes to spend time with Enid and although their exterior would let others believe that they’re more like their mother, Auggie has a deeply optimistic view on the world and genuinely cares about others once they’re close. They’re also much better at making friends, like their momma!

Gwen is more like her momma, sharing more of her interests and personality with Enid, but is more often attached to her mother’s hip than even Enid is to Wednesday. But Gwen definitely has a sadistic side, she loves to fuck around with others and in a general sense doesn’t much care for what random strangers, teachers, and classmates think about her and is usually alone or is sitting by her sibling, Auggie. And of course, Gwen has some of that signature Addams protectiveness over her family. She will, and has before, ruin someone’s life if they try to mess with those that she loves.

And final note, cause this is getting a bit long, Gwen and Auggie are all but inseparable. Literally in their first few years in school, it took a whole squad of teachers and school staff to separate them for even a few minutes. And a few minutes is literal btw, as it wasn’t very long before they had each found their way back to the other, one very nearly literally tearing through all the teachers and the other sneaking away while the teachers weren’t looking. And although they eventually grew more comfortable with being separate for some time as they got older, they still always end up right back at each other’s side eventually. So yeah, inseparable lol.

Umm yeah, I got a little bit too into this, huh? Anyway, I hope y’all have enjoyed my endless rambling lol

#liquidsnace #ask answered #wenclair #wednesday x enid #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair children #wenclair au #wednesday netflix #wednesday series

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beegomess · 17 days ago

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All Along, We Were Like Him || Kendall Roy

A/N: Just a reminder that my first language is not English!

01. The Man I Could Be

Private jet trips, helicopters used only to circumvent the infernal traffic, exclusive dinners with people so powerful that not even the popular media dared to mention. This was your world since the cradle. If you wanted to thank me, look at Charles White, your grandfather. It was he who built the empire that today sustains his family. After him, came his father, Thomas, who now faced the difficult decision: which of you two, you or your brother Oliver, would inherit everything?

His life was, without a doubt, easy. The best schools, an impeccable graduation at Harvard - always at the top of the class. All this, of course, was not only for merit, but also for an incessant rivalry with Oliver. Each conquest was one more step in the silent but fierce dispute for the throne. And you had your advantages: Oliver was talented at ruining everything, and his slips ended up yielding positive points for you in the eyes of your father.

But there was a limit to how much this rivalry was just competition. Despite everything, you were still brothers, two pieces of a cruel game controlled by a father who used authority as a weapon.

And your mother? She was barely part of this equation. She was a woman obsessed with spending, more interested in accumulating designer clothes than in building any emotional bond with her children. Her frivolity was very reminiscent of Caroline Roy, an old friend of hers. This proximity, by the way, brought Siobhan Roy, or just Shiv, to his life during his college years. You approached naturally, united by the weight of growing up in families where women were, first of all, tools - good wives or ornaments, but never protagonists.

This was his life: a constant dance between privileges and pressures, between love and dispute. A world where nothing came priceless.

You and Shiv have maintained a solid friendship over the years. Between the rush of careers and suffocating family events, they always found a way to meet. A getaway to have a drink, conversations about the hypocrisy of the environments they frequented or even confidences about the overwhelming expectations they carried - everything reinforced the connection between you. Of course, this meant that you also ended up crossing the paths of the other Roys from time to time, but the interactions were almost always brief, almost ceremonial.

You and Shiv have always functioned as a strange, almost symbiotic balance. She was more direct, always in search of control, while you preferred to operate along the edges, observing more than acting. During the college years, you found comfort in each other – two women dealing with suffocating expectations and a world that seemed more interested in shaping them than listening to them. But then Tom came.

You never approved him much, even before you knew him properly. He seemed too desperate to please, subservient on a level that bothered you. But Shiv seemed to like it - or at least his convenience. And, in the end, your opinion didn't matter. This became even clearer the night she called.

Logan was in the hospital, and Shiv updated you on the family chaos as if he were passing on a report: Kendall was determined to convince everyone that he was the most obvious choice to take charge of Waystar; Roman, of course, did not make it easy; and then, like someone who drops a bomb in the middle of a casual conversation, she said:

- Oh, and Tom asked me to marry him. It was... strange.

- Oh, in the hospital? - You tried to hide the skepticism, but Shiv knew you too well.

- I know what you're thinking - she said, laughing lightly. - But, honestly, I think it's the right time.

You didn't agree, but you didn't dispute either. Time passed, and now you were at the engagement dinner, with Logan still recovering, but present enough to project his shadow over the entire event.

Shiv's apartment in Manhattan was spotless, full of guests who seemed more concerned with networking than the reason for dinner. Tom circled among them with the enthusiasm of a nervous host, while the Roy family did what they knew best: put up with each other while exchanging barbs.

After some time of small talk, you decide to leave the apartment, get some air. New York shone below you, its lights overshadowing any feeling of intimacy or calm. With a glass of wine in your hand, you were watching the city, trying to find a moment of peace, when you heard the door slide behind you.

- Running away from someone? - The voice was familiar - a mixture of sarcasm and tiredness. You turned around and saw Kendall, already lighting a cigarette, her eyes half-closed against the night breeze.

- A boy named Greg - you replied, smiling sideways. - He didn't stop talking about... I don't know, rental contracts or something like that. It wasn't very clear.

Kendall let out a short laugh and took a drag on the cigarette, approaching the edge of the terrace.

– Yes, cousin Greg. He's a walking disaster. But a useful disaster, sometimes.

- Useful - you repeated, shaking your head with a slight smile. - That sounds like the kind of thing you would say to justify a lot.

He shrugged, watching the city for a moment before changing the subject.

- I heard that you took over Waystar - you commented, trying to measure his reaction. - Congratulations.

Kendall didn't seem very excited with the words, releasing only a brief and dry:

– Thank you.

There was a silence, dense, but not uncomfortable. You noticed that he was more introspective than usual, but you didn't insist. After a while, he broke the silence:

- So - he started, releasing the smoke slowly. - What do you think of all this? Tom and Shiv?

You looked at him, noticing the genuine curiosity in his expression. He was asking for your opinion - something rare coming from a Roy.

You turned the wine once more before answering, choosing the words with the necessary care not to sound insensitive, but also without much concern about softening what you thought.

- Well... - you started, with a slight smile - He proposed to her in a hospital where her father was on the verge of death, so I think that says a lot about him.

Kendall let out a short laugh, as if the irony of what you said was too obvious to deny.

- Yeah, definitely say it.

The brief silence returned, interrupted only by the muffled music that escaped from the apartment's windows. Inside, Tom watched you two through the window, noticing the smiles and the relaxed tone between you. He kept this information saved, just recording the moment.

Kendall, after a brief drag on the cigarette, decided to break the silence again.

- What about your family? I bet it shouldn't be so different from mine. - He asked the question with a half smile, curious to hear his answer.

You raised an eyebrow, while letting a smile arise.

- Practically the same thing - he replied, with a carefree lightness. - But, as I can say... we are less mediatic. No offense, of course.

Kendall let out a soft laugh.

- No offense - he said, leaning slightly to take a closer look at you. - But, to be fair, I see your brother in the media from time to time.

You chuckled, shaking your head.

- Oh, but everything that comes out about him is intentional. - You cast a suggestive look. - Different from you, of course.

He laughed again, pretending to be incredulity while putting out the cigarette against the parapet.

- Intentional? - He arched his eyebrows. - Even those stories of illegal bets that came out about him?

You held your gaze for a moment, a mischievous smile slowly forming on your lips.

- Well, those weren't exactly lies, were they?

Kendall gave a short laugh, shaking her head in disbelief.

- Are you telling me that the accusations were true?

- More or less. - You tilted your head, playing with the foot of the cup. - He was just... careless.

Kendall crossed her arms, her gaze still amused.

- And no one thought it was a bad idea to let it out?

You smiled openly now, almost diabolical.

– Actually, it was a great idea. He gave me some advantages in the race for the presidency of the company.

Kendall blinked a few times, processing what you said, before letting out a loud laugh.

- Okay, that's insane.

- Don't be dramatic. - You laughed along. - Everything worked out. Well, for me, at least.

- Reminds me to never compete with you.

- Relax - you said, with a lighter smile. - I keep these exaggerated tactics only for my adorable asshole brother.

You kept talking after that, time passed so fast that it was almost imperceptible. Kendall seemed more relaxed, his posture less rigid, as if he had finally let go of some of the weight he carried. He was laughing more - something rare, you noticed. You also laughed, but there was something else: a subtle exchange of provocations and glances that turned that conversation into something more intriguing.

The weather was mild, until the sound of knocks on the glass interrupted them. You turned to the door at the same time, where Greg appeared, clearly uncomfortable, but determined to fulfill his mission.

- Oh, you're here. - Greg said, closing the door with unnecessary care, as if he was sealing a secret.

You tilted your head to the side, waiting. Kendall just raised her eyebrows.

- So, Greg? Will you continue planting there or do you have something to say? - Kendall asked, a little bit of sarcasm in her tone.

Greg cleared his throat, visibly nervous with the look of you two.

– Good... Shiv asked to call you. - He finally said, pointing at you.

His smile grew, but his eyes gained that brightness of someone who was about to mess up.

- Do you think she already wants to ask for a divorce? - You joked casually, but Greg was petrified, clearly thinking he had lost something important.

- What? No, she just... - Greg started, stuttering, until you raised your hand and interrupted him with a laugh.

- Relax, Greg. It's a joke. - You said, laughing to yourself, while he forced a nervous laugh.

Kendall, on the side, couldn't hold back a smile, shaking her head like someone who was already expecting something like that coming from you.

– Right... Okay, just kidding. - Greg tried to keep up, although he clearly wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

You dropped your glass on the parapet, ready to leave, but Greg still hesitated, as if he wanted to insist.

- I can take you there, if you want... - He offered, but you cut it quickly.

- Don't worry, Greg. I turn around. - You replied with a polite smile, then pointed to Kendall with a casual gesture. - Actually, why don't you stay here and keep Kendall company? He's very serious, he needs someone to liven up the night.

Kendall let out a short laugh, her eyes half-closed as if to say: "Really?"

- Me? Really? - He repeated, defiant.

- Totally. - You answered without even blinking, already moving away from the door. - And who better to change that than Greg?

- Ah... Good... Me? - Greg tried, clearly lost in the middle of the dynamic between you two.

You just gave one last smile, waving to both of them before entering the apartment again.

Kendall stood still, watching you disappear through the door. He let out a sigh and shook his head, now clearly in a good mood.

Greg looked at him, trying to break the ice.

– So... Do you want to talk about life or something like that?

Kendall laughed, but didn't answer. His thoughts were elsewhere - or rather, in someone else.

Time, ruthless and constant, slowly created the perfect conditions for what seemed inevitable. After that first date on the terrace, you and Kendall began to bump into each other more often - but it always seemed like a coincidence, as if the universe was playing with you. With each new meeting, a new dialogue flowed, easier, more natural, but also more intimate. Like at that party, where the conversation between you was interrupted by moments of laughter, small pauses and an exchange of glances that did not need words.

The chemistry was there, visible and almost palpable. However, like last time, Kendall didn't ask for your number. He had that curious way, always between undecided and reserved, as if he were calculating the next step, but without giving himself completely. As if he was leaving a certain mystery in the air, something that made you wonder: is he just testing the limits? Or is he playing the game in his own way, more subtle, more calculated?

The next day arrived, but contrary to what you imagined, Kendall's contact did not come. It was Shiv who entered the scene.

Your cell phone vibrated, and when you looked at the screen, you saw her name.

"Kendall asked for your number. I hope you know what you're getting into."

You smiled, almost laughing at the situation, and immediately replied:

"I always know, Shiv."

In a few minutes, the conversation with Kendall began. The messages arrived more often, almost as if there was a tacit expectation between the two of you for you to continue talking to each other. It wasn't just curiosity, no. There was something else there. Something that attracted you and made you return to the cell phone screen whenever he vibrated, waiting for the next message, the next comment. It didn't take long for the calls to also enter the scene. Between provocations and ironies, disguised confidences and sharp jokes, the conversation seemed to never come to an end. And suddenly, there was something very natural in all that. The words flowed easily, as if they were a continuation of the conversation they had started there on the terrace.

But there was more. With every message exchanged, with every call, something was being built, an invisible bridge between you two, something that solidified with every unspoken word. You knew there was something there, but you didn't want to hurry to understand what. He, in turn, seemed equally cautious, but the truth is that, somewhere between the provocations and the most subtle details, he was also indulging in the game, allowing himself to trust a little more every time the phone rang.

Over time, conversations became a habit - almost like a routine, but without losing their charm. And that's how, between exchanges of messages and laughter at midnight, that the distance that existed between you began to decrease.

You still didn't know what it meant exactly, but the fact that the phone was no longer turned off, and the fact that silence didn't become more uncomfortable, said a lot.

Suddenly, the line between the casual and the personal began to fade. That constant exchange of messages and unexpected phone calls were making you, without realizing it, getting closer and closer. Something that initially looked like a light game, became deeper, easier. What used to be superficial conversations now began to have a personal, almost intimate touch, and you caught yourself waiting for the next contact, without understanding exactly the reason, but without wanting it to stop.

On a rainy Sunday, you were at home, reading quietly in the living room while the rain flowed through the windows. The sound of the cell phone vibrating on the coffee table interrupted the silence. You looked at the screen, saw his name and, for a moment, hesitated. So, he decided to ignore it. She had promised herself that that would be a rare day of peace, a day away from commitments, calls and messages. But when the cell phone vibrated again, you couldn't help but feel an impulse to answer.

The cell phone stopped vibrating for a few seconds, only to start again. On the fourth call attempt, you dropped the book, picking up the device. Four missed calls from Kendall and, soon after, a message appeared:

"I need to tell you something, but it has to be in person. I'll meet you in front of your building in 15 minutes."

You frowned, intrigued. Kendall wasn't the type to dramatize for no reason, so she answered a simple "Ok" before getting up. He chose something casual, but elegant enough - discreet enough to avoid drawing attention, if someone saw them together.

When it went down to the lobby, a black SUV waited strategically parked away from the movement. The driver came out to open the back door for you, and you entered. The interior was silent and muffled, the smoked glass protecting any curious look from the outside.

Kendall was sitting in the back seat, with her gaze lost in the rain hitting the window. When you came in, he turned around, and a slight smile curled his lips.

- I hope what you have to tell me is at the level of state secret - you joked, buckling your belt. - It took me out of my only moment of relaxation of the month.

- I didn't think I was so important to you. - He replied, the provocation loaded with a subtle humor.

You raised an eyebrow, biting a smile.

- Let it be clear: I'm only here out of respect for my friendship with Shiv. It wouldn't be nice for you to do a gigantic shit just because you didn't see me.

He let out a low laugh, shaking his head.

- So I'm the chaos in person?

- Absolutely. - You answered, crossing your arms, assuming a fun tone.

Kendall laughed, a light sound that brought a brief smile to her face. But the joke soon gave way to something more serious, denser, broken when he straightened up on the bench, his shoulders tense and his eyes fixed on his own.

- I'll get straight to the point. - He started, his voice firmer. - I want to get my father out of Waystar's power.

The statement fell like a rock. You tilted your head, studying it carefully, trying to capture the nuances in its tone and expression. He didn't just seem determined; there was a mixture of nervousness and excitement, like someone on the verge of a decision that would change his life.

- Okay... - You finally said, the voice low, but loaded with irony. - I feel I need to remind you that there is a small issue of conflict of interest here. You still remember that we are competitors, right?

Kendall didn't look away, a confident smile appearing on her lips.

- I know that. But I also know you won't use that against me.

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the certainty in his voice.

- Wow, you're very confident. Betting your career on me is... daring, at least.

– It's not a bet. It's calculation.

- Calculation? - You repeated, suspiciously, the sarcastic tone.

Kendall leaned forward, almost as if she wanted to reach her conviction.

- Because you understand. More than anyone else. You know what this is.

You held his gaze, the words hitting in a place you preferred to ignore.

- Okay, I understand. But what does that make me? Your confidential diary?

- Maybe. - He said with a small smile, but there was something more serious in his expression. - Or maybe just someone who knows how the game works.

You smiled lightly, but there was a pang of seriousness in your eyes.

- You're saying this because you think I want to do the same, aren't you?

Kendall hesitated, as if she was choosing the words carefully.

- It's not like you've never thought about it.

You let out a short laugh, leaning against the back of the seat.

- Yes, of course I've thought about it. But I intend to wait for my father to die before doing that.

Kendall smiled from the corner, but the intensity in his gaze did not diminish.

- What if he ends up delivering Waystar for crumbs because he completely lost track? - Kendall replied, his voice full of frustration. - My father is already old, and everyone knows that. After he left the hospital, he's not the same anymore. He's... vulnerable.

You narrowed your eyes, studying his expression carefully.

- Old man, yes. - You said slowly, the words sharp as a knife. - But not dead. Vulnerable Logan? Really? He can still crush anyone who dares to cross his path. Including you.

Kendall gave a deep sigh, running her hand through her hair nervously, but keeping her gaze fixed on hers.

- I'm not alone in this. - He said, after a moment, almost as if he was revealing a dangerous secret. - Frank is with me.

You blinked, the surprise passing quickly through your face before you pulled yourself together.

- Frank? - His voice came out full of disbelief.

- Yes. - Kendall replied, a little ironic smile on his lips. - He knows that my father is no longer able to lead. He just doesn't say it out loud... yet.

You leaned back on the bench, your arms crossed, evaluating each of his words with a mixture of curiosity and caution. The idea seemed absurd, but the way Kendall spoke, the conviction in his voice, made you hesitate to dismiss that as madness.

As much as his mind was full of questions and suspicions, there was something in his eyes - a fierce determination mixed with an almost childish glow of wanting to prove your worth - that made you stop to consider.

- Well... - You finally said, an ironic smile forming on your lips. - I imagine you're not waiting for what I have to say to make this decision, right? Even if I had something to say, I don't think it would make a difference. So... go ahead.

Kendall tilted her head, her dark eyes fixed on hers, as if she was looking for something - approval, trust, maybe even complicity.

- Do you think I'm capable?

His tone brought an unexpected vulnerability, a small flash of insecurity that contrasted with the mask of trust. It was as if, behind all that arrogance and determination, he was looking for a validation spark. Something at that moment seemed more intimate than any other conversation you had ever had, and you felt the charged air, as if he was expecting more from you than a simple opinion - perhaps an approval, or even a sign that he was on the right track.

You sustained his gaze, allowing the silence to extend for a moment before answering, each word carefully chosen not to seem cold, but also without giving yourself completely.

- If I think you are able to risk everything for a very small possibility? Well, yes. Apparently you are. - The soft, firm voice, but with a touch of irony that made him smile slightly. - I just hope your calculation is right.

He gave a low sigh and shrugged, relaxing a little on the bench, although his eyes still carried the same intensity.

– I never make mistakes.

- Of course. - You answered with the tip of your tongue, letting the irony shine through. - Because everything Kendall Roy does always works.

This time, he didn't just smile. He let out a genuine laugh, something light that broke the tension of the moment, reverberating inside the car.

- Touched.

Although the laughter relieved the atmosphere, the gravity of what was being discussed was still hovering between you. They both knew that what he was about to do was a risky move, something that could change not only his life course, but perhaps yours as well. The distance between you seemed to decrease, and even without knowing for sure what would happen, there was a tacit understanding that this was just the beginning of something great - or disastrous.

______________________________

masterlist

xoxo, bee🫶🏼

#succession x reader #x reader #succession fanfiction #succession #roman roy x reader #kendall roy x reader #shiv roy #roman roy #kendall roy #logan roy #connor roy #roy family #kendall roy imagine #kendall roy smut #x you #jeremy strong #kieran culkin #sarah snook #brian cox

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sacrifical-lamb-core · 1 month ago

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I want to tell you three things.

1 — Roman women were expected to eventually become wives and mothers. These were literally their key roles. How do you think this manifests itself in relation to Regula Valeria? I would be very interested to hear your version.

2. How do you think others feel about Jason and Regula's relationship?

3. Let's play a little game - you send me your headcans related to Jason or Jupiter Camp/New Rome and I will try to fit them into my AU. I think we would both like it.

1. She's expected to be a wife to Jason from the day she is brought to New Rome, and I think a good way to show this is that she is always expected to wear a veil. According to this, Roman women were in a lot of places expected to veil to show modesty and purity in marriage:

“The costume of the matron signified her modesty and chastity, her pudicitia. It consisted of her distinctive dress, the woollen stola, which was worn over a tunic; the protective woollen bands which dressed her hair; and the woollen palla or mantle, which was used to veil her head when she went out in public … the veil … protected the married woman from religiously impure things, limiting the likelihood of her seeing some omen, object, or act that would diminish her purity"

She is Jason's mini perfect bride for the golden son of Jupiter, why not dress the part?

She is not able to get pregnant, much to their dismay, but she is always given little children in New Rome to watch over she's older, like a constant babysitter, and it seems that once she's old enough they will find her her a child to have permanently.

She's Roman Feminity to the max, no matter how oppressive it is on her.

2. I think that a lot of people basically treat them like a golden couple, and shove any and all weirdness that they see under the rug. Because they're like the high-school glory couple, jock x cheerleader, except if everything the cheerleader stepped out of line the jock took a chomp out of her skin. But everyone must treat them like the perfect married couple and ignore the weirdness. The only people who outright hate it are Jason's sisters.

3. I hc Camp Jupiter to be like a cult like structure, which basically like brainwashes a lot of the people there to be ultimately loyal to it. One way is by drilling in constant thoughts of stress for stepping out of line, so while Regula brims with constant jealousy, she hates and despises herself for it whenever she does. She sometimes breaks the rules, but from the punishment from both New Rome and Jason, it is drilled into her brain that that is bad. Bad bad bad and doing it is evil and she is evil and she must must must must do the good roman woman things and never never never ask any questions and push all thoughts down of rebellion.

A lot of the time she's numb then terrified then numb the terrified. Like a bunny rabbit.

#regula valeria #pjo #percy jackson #tw cult mention #tw cannibalism implied

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olysmile · 5 months ago

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𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝

I cannot process how damaged children are nowadays.... Seriously what is this? Acting mature for their age? Having their faces stuck on an iPad screen 24/7? Ten-year-old girls doing skincare and stealing products from Sephora and other shops? Having sexual intercourse with each other, or even watching this kind of TV shows??? And the most important out of all: Why are the parents ok with all that?

I seriously can’t understand how things work for kids these days. Ok, I’ll admit that my “for you” page on tik tok is full of skincare tips etc. With that feed, it happens all the time to see a video of a mother who is doing her five year old’s skincare routine, or another mother who lets the child use her makeup products so she can go to a birthday party. Many people are going to come at me now and say: “You are overreacting, it’s just a kid” Well THAT’S THE ISSUE! She is a kid.If she starts doing this stuff now, what will she do in the future? A breast job or a nose job when she turns 13? As a mother, you should know better that this is a bad influence. And the worst thing is that you don't let your kids use them just to play inside the house. YOU LET THEM PUT ON MAKEUP FOR SCHOOL!

The saddest thing about makeup products is that they don't have any age restriction, so many kids think that it is normal to use them and try them out from a young age, especially since cosmetic brands like Drunk Elephant, Tower 28 and Rare Beauty will have products that go viral on TikTok. Each kid can scroll through their tik tok (wich I believe is something also insane) and they will find something that 'suits' them and is 'ideal' for them. Some mothers do not allow their children to buy these products, and this is the main reason they end up misbehaving and stealing products from Sephora. I don't know why they chose Sephora specifically, but I am sure that this is not the main concern we have right now.

The other issue that we have with kids and their parents (mostly the generation Z parents) is the TV shows they are watching. Most of the time, parents don't pay any attention. When children have access to endless information on the internet, they can end up finding an animated show and might think: "Wow this seems cool! I will watch it" And the parents see that their kid is watching the show and they think:"Ok it is just an animated show" OH REALLY? Shouldn't you check the age restriction before you decide that? You have no idea how many kids have watched shows such as Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Arcane, Rick and Morty, and also many Anime at the age of 9.

I am mentioning specifically the age of 9 because of the incident at the Galaxycon. For those who don't know what i am talking about, there was a q&a event with the hazbin hotel cast at this con and a nine year old was asking the voice actor Blake Roman, whether it was uncomfortable for him to record the sex tape scene in episode 1.... All the voice actors where in shock. I do not have the full video only, but i can show you what happened and the opinion @_crow.lex_ has expressed about this on his tik tok account:

We can all agree with the fact that one of the main roots of a child's development and behavior comes from the parents and the environment that they grow up in. So this is a call for all the parents reading this: Please pay attention to what your children watches or researches on the Internet, or even set a screen time limit for them. In addition, explain them that some things are not appropriate for them and they will not become 'mature' if they start getting into these right now.

#generation alpha #important to know #for parents #blog #childcare #ruined generation #please pay attention #current events #today's issue #today's topic #keep kids safe #children need attention #tumblog

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hughiecampbelle · 2 years ago

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Your Relationship As Logans Youngest Would Include:

Requested: What would Logan’s relationship with his youngest child? - anon

A/N: I'm not 100% sure if this was a request or just a question, but I like it too much not to turn into a headcanon :) I'm basing it off these headcanons and this fic series because I love this Baby Roy! Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Logan never wanted you from the beginning

He makes that abundantly clear with your mother, but she had no children, by him or anyone else, and thought this would be the way to trap him. It'll at least get her the money she wants when they inevitably divorce

Neither of your parents understand what it is to raise a child. Your mother was never warm and fuzzy with your siblings, let alone you. She hates the fact that she has to give up alcohol and sushi for you and definitely reminds you of all her sacrifices. Your father wants nothing to do with you. Period

He has three boys to choose from, more than enough for a single successor, and a daughter to carry on the family name. To Logan you're more like spare parts

He's older now, he has less time for children, less time for you. Less energy, too. He doesn't have time for you. He didn't have time for your siblings, but now he was even more busy. At least they're grown up, at least he doesn't have to parent them anymore. You're a baby, you supposedly need him. But his work is more important

After you're born he spends as little time with you as possible, leaving your mother and siblings to raise you. He can't remember, but he swears you cry more than the others. You cry all the time. It prevents him from working. It prevents him from inviting people over. You are deemed the reason he can't get anything done

It's up to your siblings mostly to raise you. Connor takes over as father figure and the rest do their best to protect you. When you're fussy or cranky or just not in a good mood they know better than to let you near Logan in that state. Things always end badly when you're around him

When he can't help but be around you, he remains distant. When you're old enough to walk and talk and go to school, he might ask about it. Probably not, though. He can't be bothered to care

You remind Logan of his own mortality. You're so much younger than he is, so much younger than your siblings. He sees you and realizes he doesn't have the energy anymore. He doesn't have the drive anymore. He's still got his bite of course, but he's getting older. He's not as scary as he used to be, at least he feels this way and it's why he's even more cruel than usual

Logan only hears word of your tantrums. You have a nasty temper that makes the help quit weekly. He doesn't have time for that. He'd just divorced your mother and became the parent with the most custody. He isn't going to hit you like Roman, he has this feeling you'd only get worse. You're already covered in bruises and scratches, he can't afford anymore questions

He sent you to your room for days at a time, he took away meals and toys and time with your siblings. Some days he even took you away from school, deciding that time with your teachers and friends was too good for you. You'd be so quiet, so still, he sometimes forgot you were there. When you begged for food and water he'd send a plate to your door, not wanting to see you at the table. Not wanting to see you at all

One day after a particularly bad week, after you threw yet another tantrum in front of his investors, he calls you into his study. You know you're not allowed in here. He has so many things he wants to say that he can't. He wants to yell and scream and order you to stop acting this way. It's childish, it's reckless, and if you don't straighten up, he'll ship you off to boarding school. Instead, what comes out is vague and simple: Quiet down.

Quiet down the tantrums, the emotions, the crying and yelling, the head banging, the scratching, the throwing, the disaster, quiet down everything until you are nothing. Until you are nothing

It is a non-threatening threat

Your siblings try to help, try to get in-between the anger and your father, but he knows. He sees everything that goes on inside his home. Your behavior is unacceptable and he will not stand it

When you started drinking, he took notice. You were, what? Ten, eleven, twelve. He'd had his first drink by your age. The fact that you had simmered down meant that it was working

He would do nothing to stop you, nothing to intervene. When you went to your mothers, when you weren't drinking, he was the one who heard all about how misbehaved you were. When you came home and self-sedated, he figured it was a win. He finally had you behaving. Ever since you were born he'd felt this anger, this disgust towards you. Now that you were limp and quiet and subdued, you were a pleasure to have

The pills were the next step, stealing from the bathroom cabinet, coke from Kendall's pockets, other drugs from school. He knew what was going on, but again didn't care. He felt like he'd been holding his breath your whole life and could now finally breathe

He didn't care what you did or how much you did it, it was your life he was fucking up, not his. Why should he care?

You wouldn't overdose til a few months later. He pays the hospital bills, never bringing it up. You collapse a few times at home, the help finding you, saving you, but he never brings it up. You come home and shut yourself in your room, out late every night

He's not an idiot. He knows exactly what you're doing, what you're trying to get rid of: the anger. He'd let you kill yourself over it. He has an heir, he has successors that aren't you. You're finally letting him do his job, letting him work. That's all he wanted your entire life

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"To do what?"

He knows. He's always known. And sometimes it feels like he's rubbing it in your face that he knows and doesn't care. It hurts and drives you to do more drugs and drink more alcohol. If he doesn't care about you, why should you?

He doesn't keep track of you. You're at clubs, bars, underground, all over the city. If you're not home by the time he goes to bed you are not his problem. Simple

When you call him that night, sobbing, asking for help, for safety, for him to pick you up after days of not being home, he nearly hangs up. You are weak. You always have been. Instead he calls Connor, knowing he's in the city, ordering him to find you. When the call ends he goes back to sleep without worry. This is your mess, your fault. He won't let you get in the way of another big day tomorrow

Years you spent ruining your life, your body, a decade you spent in those bars, in those clubs, drinking yourself to sleep every night because you were weak and couldn't deal with life

He doesn't see you for months after that. You go to rehab a few times. You stay with your siblings and then you get your own place. Neither of you talk about that night, that call. He is neither kind to you nor hateful. You simply exist. You are a letdown. You always have been. He was foolish to think you'd be any other way

Logan dies not liking you. You're clean now, have been for a year after multiple months of rehab and multiple months of falling off the wagon. But that doesn't mean a thing to him. You poisoned yourself for years. You poisoned your family. You couldn't deal with life and that made you weak. No matter how sober you stay or for how long, you did those things to yourself. No one else did. Logan didn't want you from the beginning, but your life just proves you are not a Roy, you never will be. You're, at best, spare parts

#requested #headcanon #logan roy #logan roy imagine #logan roy headcanon #logan roy x reader #succession #succession imagine #succession headcanon #succession x reader

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the-stars-in-your-eyes-if · 1 year ago

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Care to tell some facts about the ROs?

Here you go

Diesel:

— Their family are Italians immigrants (their parents are born in France but not their grandparents)

— They have a perfect pitch

— Their family are musicians, they not only learned to play guitar but also to play piano and to sing

— They don’t remember their mother’s face, they were a toddler the last time they saw her

— They occasionally smoke

— They’re demi-ace

Roman:

— He chose to specialize in sciences instead of literature and arts in high school (his friends are still very disappointed)

— He loves his mother to the moon and back and wants to make her proud

— He’s in an open relationship with Isra but he doesn’t want to date anyone else

— He doesn’t feel an once of jealousy

— He’s a smoker

Isra:

— They thought they were a lesbian before meeting Roman, she likes to say she’s 98% gay and 2% straight

— She’s the youngest of three children

— Their parents are lawyers, it’s the family business

— She had a hard time to find a band they truly had harmony and osmosis with

— MC wants her to be the co-lead singer but Isra likes her place at the moment

— She doesn’t drink nor smoke

Archie:

— He doesn’t feel comfortable in front of cameras, he’s not the socially comfortable type

— Music is vital to them

— He would rather jump from a moving car than talk about his family and where he comes from

— They are very tactile, they love to hug their friends and to share a bed with them (in a platonic way)

— He has no problem to give love and to show affection but it’s hard for him to accept other’s love (they deeply believe they don’t deserve it)

Cal:

— He loves his job, he sometimes forgets to take time for himself

— He’s trans and ace

— When he was younger, he wanted to be a movie director

— He knows being too close to his clients isn’t a good idea but he likes the band

— He has a resting bitch face and doesn’t smile a lot but when he does, it’s a genuine smile and it warms up the room <3

— He always has a neutral tone, he doesn’t show a lot of emotion. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, it’s just the way he is

Max:

— They are friendly and tend to speak loudly

— They work very hard to be the best and to take their band to the top

— They don’t come back in France often so they don’t visit their parents a lot but they call each other at least once a week

— They love the camera and sharing stuff to social media

— They draw and they are good at it

— They are a loyal friend

Ollie:

— Ollie has a golden heart

— She became a mom at a young age

— If her parents weren’t there to help during her first years of motherhood, she would have had an abortion (which she really didn’t want to do)

— She doesn’t know a lot about the music world but she loves to listen to her child talking about their favorite band

— She doesn’t hold a grudge against her child’s father

Kat:

— She doesn’t know what a "normal" life is

— She was born in France

— She barely remember any French words

— Even if she’s quite humble considering her fame, she tends to be a princess: she likes her comfort

— She met Athena at a fashion show

— She isn’t fake polite, she won’t hesitate to call out your bullshit and she doesn’t run from a fight. You do not want to be her enemy

Athena:

— She was worshipped her whole life, she believes it’s a standard

— She knows she hold some power and she likes it

— She is confident and can be arrogant, people calls her the "goddess of music" of course she will act as if she is

— She overshadows her band mates and she hates it: they are as talented as she is and they deserve the same recognition (she often puts them under the spotlight during interviews)

#inbox #diesel di angelo #roman lupin #isra wafa #archie de beaumont #cal bremont #olivia madden #katahrina deluca #athena pierce #max larash

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bimyself06 · 11 months ago

Text

A PJO au that's currently biting the cage called my brain.

Poseidon decides that he can no longer stand by Zeus and his decisions at some point(this happens before WWII) without putting himself and his people in danger so he abdicates his place in the council and creates a new one with sea deities only, Aphrodite doesn't join him but does act as an informant of sorts.

Since Poseidon deffected before the Oath, he doesn't make it meaning he continues to have kids but since he deffected and isn't an Olympian anymore his children and their mortal parent get homes either in the sea or near it, same goes for other sea deities. They don't attend CHB or CJ, both Greeks and Romans intermingle, there are a few arranged marriages if thier godly parents are having disputes, they get trained/attend the underwater sea camp, and godly parent can visit the child.

When Percy is born Sally permanently moves to Montauk, and with help from the other mortal parents who live in Montauk manages to finish her education and start her writing career. Percy grows up getting weekly visits from his dad and half siblings and in environment where he doesn't feel like he stands out like a sore thumb despite everyone knowing he's basically their prince, his powers are trained at a much younger age too.

However kids do need to attend school and as smart as their mortal parents are they do deserve to experience normal child things like school, if things don't work out a personal tutor is hired for the child. This is how Percy met Grover and for the first time in over a century that a sea child not coming from Aphrodite's line goes CHB.

Hijinks happens, Percy takes in the camp and is a little disappointed (he's been raised as the youngest prince of the sea and has a countless of older siblings, and attends the sea camp he has high standards and is a little spoiled but still our lovable Percy) but immediately clicks with the Aphrodite kids, there's a bit more of friction between Percy and Annabeth and her cabin as a whole as opposed to canon as he was raised around a bunch of deities who still blame Athena for Pallas death, he's comfortable around the Hephaestus and Ares kids as they remind him of his father's forges and Kim and her kids(she canonically hates her husband, I would not be surprised if she has a kid somewhere as a way to spit on their marriage), the Demeter kids are the second cabin he near instant clicks with as they are family and as far as he knows their parents don't have beef. He befriended the Apollo kids when he went to them to ask if there's any procedure he should know about in case of a medical emergency when not underwater and revealed that he could help remove poison from the body. He's on the fence on the Hermes and Dionysus cabins as the latter keep to themselves and hasn't had time to properly meet the former.

#pjo #pjo au #what if poseidon said fuck that to zeus and created his own council free of zeus laws #the sea deities are happy the other deities except hades and the underworld deities are unhappy

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artist-issues · 11 months ago

Note

I've already graduated long time ago but I was wondering what is the relationship between schools and religion in your country?

I've heard about a thing in the USA called a Sunday School but I don't know how it works. Where I'm from, Poland, we have a class called ''Religion'' where we are taught Roman Catholic religion, the most prevalent religion in Poland. There would be sometimes lessons about other religions but they usually boiled down to ''Be nice to others and let's all get along.'' We would talk about other religions in history class. Ancient Greece? Greek Gods! Ottoman Empire? Islam. Poland before its Christening? (Yes, Poland ''becomes Christian'' when our ruler, prince Mieszko I, got baptized in 966. And yes ruler of the country doesn't have to be a king. We had few rulers who's never been technically crowned.) Slavic Gods!

What about kids who aren't Christian or who are but whose parents don't want them to be taught religion in school for some reason? They go to ''ethics'' class which boils down to ''Don't kill because it's a sin bad thing.'' etc.

Perfectly serviceable, right?

But even though it's not mandatory there are still people who think religion should not be in school at all. Because in their opinion there's already enough going on in school and religion class just keeps their kids in school an extra hour (In Poland classes are only 45 minutes and breaks are only 5 - 10 minutes long, with one long one, 15 minutes.).

Most people like or at least acknowledge that it's far more convenient that way.

It's not some small village where an entire school would fit in one room. How would the priest ask and grade an entire building's worth of children? (''Religion'' isn't taught by priests, nuns or catechists. (I think that's how you translate it.) We would get grades for reciting the prayers and other stuff, our notebooks and participation during class.)

But it might be because my school is religious even by Polish standards. Our Patreon is John Paul the Second. We have his bust in front of the school, almost every class has a cross and his picture. We have some pictures and drawings (made by previous students) of him in the hallways.

What do you think?

Well! I'm...not an expert on this at all. Or even like a casual thinker on the subject.

I was homeschooled after the third grade, then went to college. So. I'm even less qualified to be talking about this than you thought I was! ^^

But! I'll share my opinion on religion and education, I guess.

School's job in my country is to teach truth that specifically prepares you to be a law-abiding citizen who is also capable of earning a living and making well-informed decisions when electing governmental officials, I think. Thats basically it.

But our schools tend to teach stuff that isn't actually true. Like they'll teach evolutionary theory as if it isn't a theory--they'll teach it as if it's proven fact. Recently they're also teaching other stuff, stuff that is theoretical, instead of factual, as if it IS factual.

But they won't teach religion as if it's proven fact. So it's a super inconsistent standard. And you start to think "well if you're going to teach stuff that is just 'theory,' how are you picking which 'theories' to teach out of all the theories out there? And why do you only act like a few of them are proven fact, but leave others as mere 'theories?'"

And the answer is, educators just pick whichever theories are going to get them the most power in a social setting when their students graduate. So yeah, let's teach evolutionary theory so that all the little kids grow up to think that their opinion is the only God who exists. That way, we can also tell them that they should get to choose what social group they belong to. Once they pick a social group to belong to, we can cater to that social group with our movies and our speeches and our posts. Then they'll think we're "allies" with them, and they'll vote to keep us in power. Because we've managed to make them think they've chosen their own identity, and chosen us as their champions of that identity...when in reality we planned it all for them from the time they entered grade school.

People think schools are teaching their kids to become more independent in my country. Actually the schools are teaching the kids to be dependent—on a system that tells them they're in charge of their own destiny. It's all not true.

and of course there's no place for God in that. Except as an "outdated belief system used to control and oppress people throughout history."

🤷‍♀️ There you go. A nice uncomfortable crawl into the parts of my worldview that nobody wanted to hear, but it's true.

#Worldview #education #school system #god #Christianity #organized religion

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