#and is something you learned from said mom

[harmoonix]

🩵𝗧𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝘁

☆ Birthday Edition ☆

It is said that moon in water natives are born with psychic abilities. They also possess a good amount of spiritual knowledge

Planets at 29° are heavily karmic. They talk about ending something in your current lifetime. I love to call these 29° planets, the 'bloodline enders' xx

Moon x Mercury aspects. These aspects are good at communication and expression, especially if they're in good aspects like trine or sextile

Jupiter x Moon aspects, these aspects are known to make people's day feel better. They are a joy in your life, and they bring so much optimism with it, too

Moon in earth signs, they may hold a tight affection with the material world. They may have valuable things that can satisfy them or make them happy

Vesta asteroid in the 5th/7th house can make them very committed/devoted to their relationships and partner

Juno in aspects with Venus, can bring harmonious relationships between the couple and lots of affection/sensuality

Juno in the 1st house can experience marriage or relationships way younger in life. It can happen unexpectedly

Jupiter x Neptune aspects, these aspects bring a hypnotic energy to the energy. Making you tied to them and their vibe, almost refreshing

7th house lord in the 10th house would prefer to make their relationships more public, or this is a chance multiple people will know about your relationship

5th house lord in the 7th house can indicate dating when young, dating since shcool( higher school lovers), dating

Jupiter in Cancer is often found in charts whose native has a step mom/dad and even siblings (of course, it won't apply to everyone)

Moon in the 5th, 9th, 11th houses, Moon here tends to be very active and loved to interact/socialize, can be so great to hang out with them

Pluto x Mercury aspects can be very appreciated for their dark humor and personality. Showing to the world that not everything is that serious

Jupiter in the 11th house, in this house Jupiter can grant you with beautiful friendships

Jupiter x Ascendant aspects their energy is so special, natives with these aspects can often bring so much positivity in others life

Uranus x North Node aspects, you never know what to expect from life. Everything can be unpredictable and indecisive

North Node in the 7th house, their destiny can be marriage. They will definitely evolve and learn a lot from that

Moon/Neptune/Mercury in the 1st house, they can be the shy type native until you get to know them better

Venus in the 10th house, they can be known for something ex; their beauty, their personality, their appreciation, etc

Venus in Air signs, they may hang out with large groups of people, loyal to their friends, and love to meet new people

Sagittarius over their 1st/3rd/6th or 10th house can indicate they loveee to try new things because they can get bored quite fast/having multiple hobbies

A water/earth sign over their 2nd house can indicate they have a gentle/soft spoken, calm voice. Really chill natives

North Node in their 1st house can be a big indicator in finding themselves. This native needs to find his power in himself

Pluto in their 3rd house can indicate the person may have tendencies to talk dirty, loves to joke, dark humor vibe

Lilith in the 2nd or 10th house can indicate the native doesn't have much confidence in them. They need empowerment

Libra/Taurus/Pisces Moon natives, these are artisan placements. They like to create and invent things, passion for romance

Earth Risings, I know this can vary from person to person, but they have beautiful skin colors. Their skin color might be their beauty mark (all skin colors)

Saturn in water signs have issues with opening up with themselves. They love intense but they also fear to love

People with Mars x Ascendant aspects can often have marks on their body. (Can be birthmarks) but also random scratches and signs on it

Saturn at 0° degrees is born with no karmic debt from a previous life. This is because they create their own karmic life in the current one

We are in 2025!!�� I'm so happy a new year finally started!! I hope we are all gonna have a good year! ☆☆☆ + Is my b-day today so special post 🥰

Love all 💖💖💖

[dear-ao3]

friends, besties, worsties, davids, and meow meows of the jury. i have a tale for you. while i claim to be no bard (like saph, the queen of very long dramatic tumblr stories that make your heart weep), i must spin a wee bit of yarn in the form of a story. what story? a story of the green cake.

we shall, as most stories do, start almost at the beginning.

the date? january 2nd.

the time? late.

the occasion? saph comes home the third.

the problem? i have no butter or sugar.

now, saph's birthday was recently, so like any other best bud i said i was making a cake. i believe my exact words were 'i'm making you a cake whether you like it or not."

now, gang, i must level with you. this is the fourth cake i've made in my life. i am a reasonably good baker (i can bake a Mean Loaf of Bread), but i'm not a very experienced baker. 3/4 cakes were reasonably good, and only one was just slightly off. so, my track record is mixed, but i am hopeful.

now, let me take you to the present.

i am sitting at my dining room table, typing this post. i am wearing a shirt covered in flour, the green cake is in the oven.

how did i get here?

well, we won't go to the beginning. we've already seen what was basically the beginning, with me having no butter or sugar. the real story begins the morning of january 3rd. which is today. which is when saph comes home, expecting a green cake. as most reasonably well adjusted people do when their roommates parents are visiting, i stressed cleaned the entire apartment at 4am, after realizing the mice in my walls are fucking. i did not leave them a condom. i did not have one that would fit them. i can only hope they have plan b. so naturally, i went to bed at 6am.

and i still had no sugar or butter for the green cake for saph.

and i needed to get started on this cake before 10am, or saph would be here before it was finished.

and i went to bed at 6am. so naturally i set my 9:00, 9:02, 9:04, 9:06 alarms, and hoped i'd lock in when i woke up.

friends, i hate to admit it, but i did not lock in. nay, i slept through all of my alarms and woke up at roughly 9:45. it was cold, damp, and the mice were still probably fucking. i threw my hair into a messy bun, and ran downstairs, only to find my mom was selling me to one direction.

jk. it was far worse.

because saph said she had sent me something.

what did saph send me?

a full poster of david malukas! do i know why? no! but he lives in my kitchen now, providing me with mental support. thanks david!

so, i begin to make the cake after laughing for about 10 minutes about why david is now in my apartment. it starts off surprisingly well. i have not forgotten the salt.

everything is normal.

until i remember.

the cake needs to be green.

why? idk thats what saph said she wanted so i am just going to do what i was told to do and make this damn cake green.

but its now late in the process, and if there is one thing i have learned in all my years of watching the great british baking show with my mom, it is to never over beat your cake.

and my cake, right now, was perfect. trust me. i ate plenty of dough to know it was wonderful.

so now i am trying to figure out how to make the most perfect shade of nico rosberg green, feeling a bit like an alchemist. david malukas is staring me down. my time grows shorter and shorter with each beat.

and then, gang, i had to give up on this being nico rosberg green. i did not want to kill my cake. my green cake. my now mint-green cake that i am baking for saph. so naturally i'm like, okay, time to pour this.

easy, right?

WRONG.

so one thing to know about me is i suck at cutting things.

it's unfortunately a key ingredient in cake making that you have a stupid little circle on the bottom of your cake tins. i cut it the best i could. which was bad. so i'm already fighting demons trying to get the stupid parchment paper from sliding every which way, and then, my friends, i realized something horrible.

the batter had not mixed at the bottom. so now i was fighting even more demons and trying not to get loose flour in my cake.

i think i succeeded. only time will tell. david is watching. the cake is almost done.

i am setting the green cake free.

look upon him now, and weep. the green cake prevails! even though he doesn't look very green yet.

and now, for the hardest part. frosting.

let's see how that goes.

david still watches.

[heylittleriotact]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the majority of death care professionals I’ve worked with have some sort of fucked up mortician-origin-story and got into funerals in the first place to either try and demystify death or cope with their trauma by constantly exposing themselves to it, and that’s literally what Emmrich has done his entire life and it’s why I love him so much.

Under the cut for some pretty raw death talk, including infant death, because fuck it - there’s a reason this pixel man lives rent free in my head and I’m about to get personal.

My Mom very unexpectedly and traumatically lost a full term pregnancy when I was 7. The first corpse I ever saw or touched was my dead sister. The first baby I held in my arms was dead.

What the fuck do you mean she’s dead? Why is she dead? She’s a baby. Babies don’t die. Old people die. Bad guys in movies die. Babies don’t.

And then from there it was like… months of infuriating and condescending bullshit from well-meaning people just wanting to reconcile with something that can’t really be reconciled with: people said a lot of stuff to me like, “it was God’s plan��� or, “it wasn’t meant to be” or, “at least she didn’t suffer” or “God needed her more” and loads of other trite bullshit in the same vein, and it really, really fucked with me as a child.

I watched it destroy my already unstable mother and cause her to take out her complicated grief on me - her abusive tendencies sharply escalated after the loss. I think she resented me. I think she resented seeing how much the loss hurt me and felt that I had no right to be as upset as I was. I think she didn’t know how to support a grieving child when she didn’t even have the tools to support herself.

I felt so isolated and confused. I became obsessed with death and heaven and angels and the idea of a soul, and as I got older, I couldn’t let go of the belief that no child - or person for that matter - should have to go through what I did.

So I became a funeral director. Because if I could help one child in a horrific situation feel seen and validated, then I’d made a difference. If I could help one despondent mother towards the right resources, or even just fucking make her feel seen and validated too, maybe she’d wind up in a better place than mine did.

I wanted to say fuck you to death. I wanted to prove my defiance by helping the living people left behind pick up the pieces. I wanted to learn to handle the unavoidable, permanent, unfeeling existence of death with the cautious reverence that one would employ when handling a venomous snake. And I did. I helped a lot of people and it fed my soul in insurmountable ways.

I became that weird death obsessed friend who couldn’t talk about anything EXCEPT funerals and death and souls and embalming and what happens to your body when you die. If you had a curious question about death or funerals? I would jump on the chance to answer it for you. Needed help with the loss of a loved one? I’ve gotchu. I became The Death Guy (I guess I still kind of am - I’m still happy to front questions and help friends and family navigate death and funerals because the knowledge is all still there.)

Eventually it became a great way for me to bury other traumas that happened to me (an abusive childhood, sexual assault and all sorts of abuse at the hands of a partner) and just not really deal with them because I couldn’t: I didn’t have time to deal with my own shit because other people needed help more than me. After all, they were dealing with a death. My own problems were small in comparison, right?

It all caught up with me after living and working through the nightmare that was COVID, and I burnt out super hard, had a small breakdown, hit the sauce super hard for awhile, and developed a lovely anxiety disorder and full blown insomnia. Counselling and a career change have helped immensely, but yeah…

I obsess over this old man as much as I do because I see a lot of my own shit and insecurities and fears and unhealthy coping mechanisms in him, and I just want everything to be okay for him, because it ended up being okay for me. It just took a lot of fucking work to get there.

To be gifted a character as complex and real as Emmrich is some once in a lifetime shit, and I’m so glad he exists. Get his ass to therapy.

I'm glad we agree that Emmrich has an absolutely unconscionable amount of rizz. However, I also have a great appreciation for his proficiency at the great honored pastime of Being A Fucking Weirdo. My man goes to work at the Death Factory every single day and copes with his deep deep fear of dying by?? Cosplaying a skeleton? Taash was NOT WRONG when they called him the corpse guy. Even amongst other necromancers, he is THEE corpse guy! His best friend is a skeleton and he hasn't left the Cemetary Where He Lives for years. He is 90% ookie spooks and 10% bisexual disaster man. The only reason he's so suave and smooth is because the ookie spooks are actually load-bearing and manage to utterly obscure what a nervous wreck he is at all times of day. It's hard to give into the existential dread when you're spending all of your time saying shit like, "The tapestry of the Fade holds many threads."

I just know that this man is holding back the mother of all existential crises. He all but has it after he yoinks Rook out of the Fade but he bottles it back up so quick you KNOW that wasn't the whole thing. You KNOW that Rook is going to wake up in the middle of the night six months after Elgar'nan bites it and there Emmrich will be, lich or not, staring blankly at the ceiling and saying, "Darling, what does it all mean?" Emmrich Volkarin is a sexy, sexy man who needs therapy and some sleep and maybe an extended sabbatical from Dead People University.

[hvnlygrl]

can u pls pls pls write this, nobody is taking my rqs.

so basically jj/rafe comforting reader bc shes crying after he overstimulated her as a punishment for spending time w pogues/kooks and her touchy bsf jj/rafe

hold me now.

pairing — rafe cameron x pogue!fem!reader

word count — 1.4k

warnings — overstimulation, rafe gets in his feelings, reader cries, mention of throwing up, hurt/comfort, brief smut (minors dni), p in v.

synopsis — you’ve been spending too much time around the pogues, and more specifically around your touchy best friend jj and rafe funnels his jealousy into your sex life. he goes too far and he hates himself for it.

notes — i love this request idk why nobody else wants to write it 😭 hope you’re okay with me picking rafe for the pairing ive been wanting a rafe request 💌

you’d known jj since you were four years old, his dad living right next door to your mom. you grew up together, learned how to ride bikes on the same day, were there for each other’s first heart breaks in elementary school and fought off the other’s bullies without a second thought. to you, he was the brother you never had, and to him, you were his entire world. he’d never admit it to anyone but he was positively in love with you.

jj had no idea when his love for you turned into more than it was in the beginning, but he couldn’t deny to himself the feelings he held for you. and to your boyfriend, rafe, it was obvious. 

rafe felt the rage building in his chest as he watched jj wrap his arms around you, a grin across his lips as you laughed and laughed. he couldn’t hear what jj said that was so funny, but judging by your laugh, it was probably some inside joke about some niche topic that he wouldn’t be able to begin to understand. 

rafe tried not to be the overbearing type with you, knowing that it brought you great stress as it reminded you of the relationship you witnessed between your parents growing up, but he just couldn’t help but feel like a third wheel to you and jj. he knew it was trivial, and that you would never in a million years be the type of person to cheat on him, but he also feared that if it came down to it, you would choose jj over him. 

rafe knew he couldn’t yell at you or cuss you out over it, because ultimately it wasn’t your fault. but he had to do something to stop himself from bursting at the seams with everything he was holding in. it drove him insane that he couldn’t do anything about the close relationship you held with the pogue, but he had to find another alternative. 

so he funneled his frustrations into your sex life. 

you lied there, looking up at him with big doe eyes as he drilled into you harshly, one hand gripping the bed frame above you as the other held onto your hip tightly. 

you cried out, eyes rolling back as he continued his momentum, growing closer and closer to yet another orgasm as he fucked you. you wouldn’t say that it hurt, because it didn’t hurt per se, but you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the way he was fucking you tonight. 

“r-rafe-” you whined desperately, hand reaching up to dig into his bare chest. 

“yea?” he breathes out through a groan, head turned up toward the ceiling as he brings himself closer to his own orgasm. 

you whimper as another climax rushes over you without warning. rafe doesn’t realize how overstimulated you are until tears begin flowing from your eyes. he sees the look on your face and wants to punch himself. you look so fragile, face turned away from him as he quickly pulls out, backing away from you as he catches his breath. 

“baby,” he reaches out toward you, heart aching when you turn further away from him, curling into yourself. “babe?”

you groan in response, naked body folded as tightly into itself as humanly possible. 

he hangs his head as he makes his way to the bathroom. rafe nearly throws up when he hears your delicate sobs emanating from the bedroom. “fuck,” he whispers as he looks in the mirror at himself. his chest and back are covered in scratches, his cheeks red and blotchy, and his hair completely askew. 

he has no idea when he got so carried away with everything, or when it became too much for you and he wants to throw his head through the wall at the fact that he didn’t notice. he should’ve noticed that he was taking it too far with you. 

rafe quickly finishes himself off in the bathroom, heart in his throat as he returns from the bathroom with a damp washcloth. he watches you breathe in and out slowly and deeply, trying to stop yourself from crying further.

you genuinely had no idea why you were crying, but you couldn’t get yourself to stop. you weren’t even upset in the slightest, you just were so overwhelmed that your body was having a visceral reaction to anything and everything at this point. 

rafe threw a pair of boxers and sweatpants on and grabbed you your favorite comfy shorts and one of his shirts and a pair of loose cotton panties. he carries the clothes over to the edge of the bed and kneels beside you. 

“baby?” he reaches out to you again, letting out a soft sigh of relief when you don’t shy away from him. “can i clean you up?” 

you nod pitifully, body still tensed as he gently opens your legs again to wipe at your sensitive area. you whimper, unable to prevent the tears from flowing yet again when the cloth touches your clit. “s’too much.” 

“i know,” he whispers, “i’m so sorry, my love, i went too far, i should’ve paid attention to you and how you were feeling.” 

you want to comfort him, but part of you knows that nothing you can say will even begin to ease the thoughts in his mind. rafe had done countless hours of therapy to try and be better for you, and you knew that to him, this was a major setback. 

“i love you,” you whisper back, “it’s not your fault.” 

he leans forward, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead, “i love you. thank you.” 

you hum in response, body feeling like jello as he pulls the clothes he picked out for you over your body. he adjusts you so that you’re comfortably sat under the comforters, back resting against the pillow on the headboard. he slides in next to you after turning off the big light and adjusting the a/c to your preferred settings. he sits near you, without touching you, unable to bring himself closer to you due to the thoughts racing through his mind. he feels awful, he never meant to take it that far. 

you both sit in silence for a beat, just listening to the sound of the a/c kicking on and the dog’s claws clacking against the hardwood floors. after a moment or two, you roll over, inching yourself closer to him slowly. your muscles are sore and your body aches from overuse as you put your head on his stomach. 

he drags his fingers through your hair mindlessly, listening to your soft hums of approval. 

“it’s not your fault, rafe,” your voice is soft and raspy, “i don’t blame you.” 

rafe wants to believe you, and he knows that you mean what you say, but he just can’t see it the same way as you. you were always the optimist in the relationship. “i just get so worked up over jj, i know i shouldn't, i know he’s not going anywhere, but i can’t help it.” 

you’re silent for a second. “i know.” you turn your head so that you can see his face, and he can see yours. “but look at me, baby, i’m not going anywhere. and i love jj, yes, but he’s my brother. i will never be able to look at him the way i look at you, we’ve been through too much together.” 

“i know, that’s what scares me,” rafe’s brows furrow deeply, “i’m scared that because he’s been there for forever and he knows everything, that i’m always gonna be left out. that it’s always gonna be the jj and y/n show and i’ll always be a background character.” 

“you won’t, you aren’t,” you frown at him, “it's our show, baby, and i’m not going anywhere. and i'm sure as hell not gonna let jj be the thing that gets in between us.” 

he nods, but you can tell that he’s still struggling to believe it. 

“i love you, rafe cameron. you’re my soulmate, you’re my entire world. i would die if anything happened to you, do you understand that?” 

“i know,” he nods again, this time more sure of himself. “i would kill if anything happened to you. i can’t even imagine that.” 

“good. don’t imagine it, because nothing’s gonna happen to me, and nothing’s gonna happen to us. i love you so much, baby.” 

“i love you so much, y/n.” 

“forever and a day?”

“forever and a day.” he kisses the top of your head, letting his lips linger for longer than normal before pulling you closer into his arms. he squeezes you tightly. “i promise i won’t hurt you like that again. i’m so sorry.” 

“apology accepted, rafey,” you wrap your arms around his, kissing his hands gently. “now make me a sandwich please?”

“anything you want, my love.” 

-> back to masterlist

taglist — @lanasb0ngwater

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Too Sweet For Me

Summary: Seventeen year old Y/N isn't thrilled when she finds out her father is somehow Soldier Boy and she's now meant to live with him...

Pairing: Soldier Boy x daughter!reader

Word Count: 1,400ish

Warnings: language, minor fight

A/N #1: I noticed I've never done a Soldier Boy x daughter fic and decided to remedy that! This was meant to be a very short fic but it spiraled a bit. Not sure if there's any interest in this going forward but I have ideas for where it could go if I were to continue...

A/N #2: This diverges just a tad from The Boys. For the purposes of this story, imagine that Soldier Boy killed Homelander at the end of S3 and is now running The Seven. The reader is seventeen for this story...

________

You swallowed as the man that was apparently your father strode around the corner. He was tall and broad, the green fabric of his uniform stretched taut over his strong muscular form. All you’d wanted for years was to find him, have your birth dad miraculously come take you out of foster care so you could stop the constant moves, the constant disappointment. 

At seventeen you knew better than to expect some instant connection. Mom hadn’t been shy about the fact he was an anonymous donor, even when you were little and asked who he was. You always figured he didn’t want you but after she died when you were eight, you hoped he’d show up somehow, like something out of Annie and you’d suddenly have a permanent family again.

Having Soldier Boy for a father wasn’t exactly filling you and the warm and fuzzies.

At least it explained the super strength when you hit puberty, a fact you’d kept hidden from everyone. Every foster parent, schoolmate, social services employee. You weren’t about to wind up in Red River and have your life destroyed before it even started.

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” said Andrew, the brand new case worker assigned to you. You didn’t take you eyes off the man before you, green eyes watching you cautiously, as a door to the apartment in Vought tower closed behind you.

Soldier Boy’s gaze wandered lower, taking you in fully. Your fists clenched by your sides. You didn’t care what the news said about how he was the hero that took out Homelander. About how he was a war hero. About how somehow he got your mother pregnant after he supposedly died and that made no sense at all.

All you could think about was the gossip forums you scrolled through last year during your annual supe school project on him. Manipulative. Abuser. Sexist. Violent. Damn near sociopathic with how little he cared for the victims left in his wake. 

Finally his gaze met yours again, his mouth curling up in a smile when you clenched so hard the whites of your knuckles showed through your skin.

“No need to be afraid of me, Y/N,” he said politely, taking a few steps forward but giving you plenty of space. “I know you’re confused and I’ll explain but I am your father. I wouldn’t harm you.”

“Funny. Didn’t you kill your last child six months ago? Homelander? Instilling me with a lot of confidence.” His eyebrows raised, his smile flashing a bit of surprise. “I’m not some delicate flower, old man.”

“Yes, you are,” he said, stepping right in front of you, staring you down as you failed to fight back a thick swallow. He gently wrapped his hand around your wrist, your breath hitching when he gave it a squeeze. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Put your dick anywhere near me and I’ll rip it off.” His hand shot to your jaw, cradling it and forcing you to keep your head up, staring straight at his angry eyes. 

“You’re sick in the head if you think I’d ever touch you. You’re my child for fucks sake and you will learn to watch your mouth.” You kneed him in the groin, Soldier Boy’s whole body jerking as his hands shot to his midsection, doubled over in pain.

“Don’t you confuse the fact that I’m a good person with weakness,” you spat back. He recovered quickly despite you putting all your force behind the hit. Shit. Just how strong was he? You backed up straight into the apartment door, Soldier Boy crowding in on your space. A tremble ran through your body. He’d killed Homelander and his grandson had disappeared off the face of the planet and they hadn’t even done anything to him.

Soldier Boy leaned down, his face barely more than an inch away from your own, his hands splayed out on either side of your head. You kept his gaze though, something flickering in his green eyes for the briefest of moments.

“Who would have thought my teenage daughter had a bigger set of balls than that psycho of a son ever did.” You didn’t move, didn’t dare suck in a breath as he sized you over again. Suddenly he straightened, staring over your head at the wood behind you. “I’m your father whether you like it or not and you’re under my care until you’re 18. You’ll want for nothing.”

“Nothing but an actual father,” you mumbled, wincing when you realized he had super hearing and stifled at the response. After a long beat, he strode away over to a liquor cart, carelessly pouring a large glass of whiskey for himself. 

“Where’s my room?” you sighed, reaching to pick up your backpack and duffel from the foyer. 

“Second floor, second door on the right,” he said, getting to the duffel before you could take it. He held it out for you, taking a long sip, the only indication that it burned the small hiss of air he let out.

You got one hand on the strap when he didn’t release it, your eyes narrowing.

“I used to look at my father like that you know.”

“Let me make something clear,” you said, yanking the bag away, Soldier Boy allowing you to take it. “I don’t know what this is but I’m not going to fall head over heels for you just because you’re my dad. You have to earn that and if you’re not going to try, then stay out of my way.”

He smirked, leaning back against the bar cart with. “What a big little girl you are with your ultimatums. You think a temper tantrum is how to get what you want?”

“All I want is you to not hurt me and for you to be nice. It’s a low fucking bar and until you can clear it, it’s better if you leave me alone.” 

“You’re too sweet for me,” he said, throwing back the rest of his drink, pouring himself another. “A girl who writes a paper on how awful Soldier Boy is and how if he were a normal citizen would have been thrown in jail isn’t someone I would ever expect would give him a chance.”

You lifted your chin even as your heart rate picked up, Soldier Boy quickly by your side and leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“I’d expect a bit more ruthlessness from the girl that said I deserved the death penalty.” Your gaze fixated on the sleek wooden floors beneath you, his arm brushing yours. “It’s okay to admit you want a daddy, baby girl. I’m not a monster like you think.”

“It’s okay to admit you’re scared of being alone. Why else would you come and get me?” you said, his body tense beside you. You turned your head up, his gaze hard once more. You smiled. “I hit a nerve, old timer?”

“It’s cute that you think I give a shit about you.” You couldn’t hide the flash of pain on your face, his eyes narrowing. “Like I said, you’re too sweet. I can break you with just a few words.”

“Then why find me?” you asked as he shoved the whiskey in your hands and took the bags from them, storming off across the apartment for the stairs. “Why did you take me out of my foster home?”

“Because you’re mine whether I like it or not.” He looked over his shoulder. “And you will not fuck that up. Now drink that, calm the fuck down and get used to it or I’ll make sure you get tossed in Red River without a second thought.”

“Or you can just man the fuck up and say you’re scared because you’re alone and I’m all you got.” He stared you down, trying to intimidate you but you didn’t miss the way his eyes watered ever so slightly before he was gone around the corner.

You sighed, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. Okay, that could have gone worse. Much worse. While you weren’t exactly thrilled about how things had gone, at least you knew one thing. 

Somewhere deep, deep down, that man cared about you, only so he wouldn’t be lonely. You wouldn’t trust that it was anything more than that. Those days were long gone, especially when Soldier Boy of all people was your father. It was far too dangerous to trust whatever act he put on once he decided to start playing nice.

You took a long sip of the whiskey, the fiery liquid burning down your throat, making you cough violently. You swore you heard the asshole laughing all the way from the living room.

_______________

A/N: If you'd like to read more of this story, please let me know in a comment, reblog or ask!

[jsooly]

if you were the sullys' human kid / jake sully & neytiri x daughter!reader

synopsis, a baby when the na'vi forced the sky people off their planet, jake bonds with you and tries to convince neytiri to raise you as their own. she doesn't agree, unless…

+ takes place during avatar 2009

"hey—who's kid is this?!"

your mother was pregnant with you during her term as an RDA corporal. she commanded her troops from the base and after giving birth to you, she was charged with field work again.

she died in battle before you were even a year old.

orphaned, they powers that were let you stay in her room and put you in the care of the scientists and doctors.

months passed. you learned to walk quickly, learned to yell for attention when you needed something... the RDA base was in no way suited for a child, and no one cared to accommodate you. not when they had na'vi to terrorize and a planet to pillage!

worming your way out of supervision yet again, you found yourself in the fields where the avatars' playing court and farm plants the height of two humans.

you scurried out of the cover the tall stalks provided as an avatar came flying up the path, its knee connecting with your side and sending you flying.

"shit—!"

"jake, i told you you weren't supposed to be running!"

your body must've tumbled 10ft. down the way before you came to a stop. and once you got over the shock, your cries were definitely heard all the way in the command center.

"that's a child!" jake held his head in his hands, relief flooding through him that you were responsive after that collision.

"woah, really?" norm said in a dumb voice before pushing past him and crouching beside you.

"how old is she?! how is she just allowed to walk around on her own?"

"she's turning two soon and her mom died recently in a spat with the na'vi. frankly we don't have the time or resources right now to keep an eye on her at all times." norm cradled you as he surveyed the damage. "thank goodness you just missed her and didn't bulldoze her like an animal."

it ended up fine. you were a tough kid.

poor jake didn't leave your side as you were taken to the med bay and treated, avatar and all.

he fretted as the nurses wrapped your arm with bandages.

"hey, kid." jake offered a sympathetic smile, dusting the dirt off your clothes. his thumb rubbed over your cheeks gently, wiping off the mud that had crusted. "no hard feelings?"

you gave him a wide-eyed look and wrapped your little hand around his thumb as if you were shaking his hand in agreement.

and that was the moment you had him hooked.

sure, his primary objective was bonding with the na'vi, but the times he was on base, his mind would wander back to you. what on earth pandora could a 2 year old be doing to entertain themselves in this weird environment?

curiosity would get the better of him and he'd use the little spare time he had to peek into your room.

seeing you play all alone with your blocks and cars and makeshift dolls made him so unimaginably sad he had to reconsider why he even felt that way.

you caught his figure in the doorway. he tried to retreat, but you'd already made your way towards him.

"jake!" you chirped, stumbling on chubby legs.

"yup." he eased back into view, a warm smile on his face. "that's me." how do you talk to kids? "whatcha up to?"

you mumbled something.

"hm?"

"playing." you shrugged, kicking the invisible dirt on the ground.

"i can see that." he hummed. "is norm gonna let you watch the avatars today?"

you held your chin in thought as you'd seen dr. grace do many times. jake's lips twitched upwards in amusement.

"yeah." you finally answered.

he glanced to the side, unsure what to make of your monotonous replies. "uh... you excited?"

you pointed at him. "you?"

"me?" he asked, pointing to himself also. "am i excited?"

you shook your head. "your... avatar?"

"ohhh." he nodded slowly in understanding. "no, you won't see me much today. i'm gonna be out on a mission."

you frowned and stepped back, shutting the door in his face.

"huh." the rejection stung just as bad as neytiri's.

somewhere down the line, he grew self-conscious, as if his self worth depended on the opinions of a toddler.

the bunch had to listen to him ramble not-so-subtlety and answer all his questions about you, so they caught on pretty quick.

"jake, she's attached to you." grace said with finality. "she's upset she can't spend more time with her favorite person. simple as that."

"favorite person?" jake echoed, distressed. "i almost killed her when we first met!"

grace scoffed. "that's an exaggeration."

"a warranted one." norm mumbled under his breath.

grace whacked him. "you're not helping."

"she slammed the door in my face the other day." jake folding his hands together, resting his forehead against his fists. "you... you think she's mad at me?"

the team groaned.

grace put a hand on jake's shoulder. "don't worry about y/n. you should be focusing on your other girl." she said, referring to neytiri.

the big battle came around, all the tensions and issues snowballing into one decisive moment where the na'vi had the chance to defend what had been taken from them.

jake was over the moon when he finally did what he knew in his heart was right. he embraced neytiri after the battle and he thought he had everything he ever wanted in his hands.

but... a part of his heart was running around the base barefoot.

"ma'jake." neytiri hissed. "no."

"she has nowhere to go." jake pleaded. by the grace of eywa, he was permanently connected with his avatar. his giant hands hooked under your armpits, dangling you in the air in front of his mate.

even neytiri couldn't deny how pitiful you looked. your eyes were sunken from not sleeping enough, frame small from lack of nutrition. what were your caretakers doing?

she shook her thoughts away, retorting, "leave her with her kind! she will be better suited there."

"they're too busy to take care of her properly." jake held you against his chest, stepping towards neytiri. "she needs a proper mother and father."

neytiri growled bluntly in frustration. "i cannot—will not—raise a human child."

jake frowned, unwilling to dismiss her feelings or leave you behind. he loved both his girls too much to deny either one of you. conflicted, he stood there frozen as he tried to think up a compromise.

neytiri studied her husband's face, his brows knit in torment and lips pulled between his teeth. her heart suddenly felt heavy.

“if she matters that much to you… she may stay with us. until those humans can figure out a way to care for her.”

jake lit up like pandora under the night sky. “thank you.” he pulled her in and hugged her right, pressing his lips to her forehead reverently. “thank you.”

within a month, you grew on neytiri. i’m not even joking it was that quick.

she marveled at how light your footsteps were. there were so many you crept in her shadow unnoticed until she heard that sweet giggle of yours.

you were her fast learner. you were a much better student that your father. being so young, you were able to catch onto the language quickly.

humans were bad. human babies….. eh. this human baby in particular… oh, she could more that spare her prejudice. affection can take its place instead.

it wasn’t bad seeing jake in dad mode either. she didn’t have any doubts, but seeing jake interact so gently with you and entertain you even after a long day made her even more confident in her choice.

a comm came in. neytiri watched jake cross the space as he answered the ringing. as greetings were exchanged between norm, max, and jake, she continued to comb through your hair.

“nga lu… brushing? my nikre?” (you are… brushing? my hair?) you sounded out.

“close.” neytiri said. gently tugging your head back to look at your face, she smiled. “good job.”

you beamed up at her. “irayo nga, sa'nok.” (thank you, mother.)

she paused, peering down at you before tilting your head down and resuming her work on your hair.

in theory, neytiri would’ve corrected you. but that would’ve meant there was something wrong with what you said.

“hey, things have calmed down around here. we can take y/n.” norm said over the phone.

jake glanced at neytiri, who was already watching him.

“they lie. leave this child in their irresponsible hands?” neytiri scoffed and hissed under breath. “she is better suited here with us.”

the knot in jake’s stomach dissipated. “yeah.” he grinned. then, turning back to the phone, “yeah, don’t worry about y/n. she’s good with us.”

neytiri fought back her own smile.

fast forward two years or so, you had a baby brother on the way.

more parts?? idk

© jsooly ‘25.

[save-the-moonpjo]

I've been ruminating on the Percy In College Problem for months and have concluded that he would have a massive burn out/ depressive episode second year. So, in honour of that, please enjoy this snippet of my mostly unwritten, half outlined fic I've been jokingly calling Percy Jackson and his Sixth Major

It started when Percy had to tell Annabeth he switched his major. 

Again. 

“Again?” Annabeth asked, though unlike the voice in Percy’s head, it was without judgment. She had looked up from her work when Percy came in and was now staring at him with an intensity she usually reserved for buildings. “What did you change it to this time?”

Percy crossed the room and put his bag down. The two had moved into a cramped one bedroom together at the start of their second year and the space was filled with a combo of Percy’s mom’s old furniture and nice new furniture that Annabeth’s dad had bought her either as a bribe or apology. Before he could launch into his pre-prepared speech (Annabeth’s version) she reached up and wrapped her arm around the back of his neck, pulling him gently down for a kiss. Her lips were soft under his and she tasted faintly of the strawberry lip gloss he got her for her stocking last Christmas. Like magic he felt his shoulders drop and his jaw unclench.

“There,” Annabeth said, her voice smug, when they came up for air. She left one more quick kiss on his lips before she pushed him down onto the couch next to him and tucked her feet into his lap. “Better. Now you can go. What is this? Major number 5 now?”

Percy cringed. “Six, actually.” 

“Ouch.” Annabeth cringed in sympathy. “What did Marnie say?”

Marnie, Percy’s guidance counselor and a legacy of Mercury, had tried to run away when Percy had shown up at her office first thing this morning. They had been through a lot in his first year of college, Marnie and him, whether it was switching majors or helping him explain to his Greek History teacher that Ganymede told him so was a valid source for his most recent paper. She had weathered all the visits with the grace he would have expected of a Praetor of Rome rather than a guidance counselor but the last time he changed his major she had made him promise to stick it out for his whole second year. 

It was October. 

“She… Got me set up.” Annabeth leveled Percy with a stare. “She begged me to stick it out until the end of semester.”

“And when you didn’t change your mind?”

“She poured something out of a flask into her coffee and then started on the paperwork?” 

Percy couldn’t blame her. When he had originally arrived at New Rome Marnie had seemed so relieved when he declared marine biology as a major. 

“Perfect for a son of Neptune,” she had said, signing the paperwork with a flourish. 

Poseidon, he had corrected in his head. He didn’t bother saying it out loud. 

She had also been unphased when he switched to Classical Studies the week after he had come back from thanksgiving. The problem with marine biology, Percy had found out those first couple months, was that he both knew everything about it and nothing. Learning about sea animals and water currents and ocean conservation had been so cool and he had a wave of smugness those first couple weeks of Marine Biology 101 being able to answer every question with ease. 

But no amount of innate godly knowledge of the ocean and its creatures prepared him for dealing weekly with scientific inquiry and methodology. 

So he had switched to Classical Studies, partially because the last class he genuinely liked that wasn’t sword fighting had been Latin with Mr. Brunner. The other part of the reason was it meant he would be in half of Annabeth’s classes. He’d also been weirdly pleased by the switchabout where he got to tutor Annabeth in Latin, the roman language not coming as easily to her as it did to him. 

He’d loved all his classes. Until he got to Poseidon’s week of Intro to Greek Godly History. 

The next morning he was at Marnie’s door before she even arrived at her office. She had switched him from Classical Studies to a General History major, but this time she sighed a lot and when the paperwork was finally done and he left, her head was leaning into her hands. 

History was… fine. He got to use a bunch of his Classical Studies credits towards it so he wasn’t going to be starting second year completely behind. He thought that the History and Film class was pretty fun, even if he had mostly picked it so that he could watch movies. Romans really seemed to like their history of war though and, as a veteran of two wars, he was not as into the topic as some of the legacies in his class. 

It had been fine though. Did Paul and his mom exchange worried looks when he came home from his first year of college on his third major? Sure. But it was fine. 

Then he started classes in his second year and his Global History of Empires professor had insisted on starting each class with a prayer and offering to Mars. 

Percy was back at Marnie’s door the second week of classes and this time she made him wait until she finished her entire cup of coffee in one go before she let him talk. 

Environmental science had been Grover’s suggestion. He’d gotten to take an Urban Planning course with Annabeth this semester, a part of college that Percy loved and that seemed like it was going to be harder and harder to do as college went on. 

It was just that everyone around him in his classes were so… interested. Committed. 

It was like being surrounded by fifty Annabeths, but they wanted to be microbiologists and geologists and ecologists and other ologist jobs that made him feel like a stupid slacker who had no idea what he wanted to do in life. 

“I think she’ll be fine,” Percy concluded. Annabeth hummed something non-committal and Percy wondered if he should maybe make Marnie a batch of his mom’s cookies. 

“What did you end up switching to?” Annabeth asked, her head tilted to the side. 

“Oh, um…” Percy looked at the textbook, the ceiling, the dishes in the sink- anywhere but Annabeth. “General arts?”

“General arts,” Annabeth repeated. Her toes pressed into his thigh. 

“It- uh, it was the only major that I could switch to without having to take an extra semester to graduate.” His stomach had dropped when Marnie had told him that. He had almost bailed until she had suggested that he could also switch back to marine biology, her voice desperate. 

He switched into General Arts. 

“What are you thinking?” Percy finally asked, when he couldn’t take Annabeth’s quiet stare any longer. She had been fine with all the switches so far, usually just giving him a laughing kiss and teasing him about being so ADHD that he couldn’t stick with a major. He couldn’t shake the feeling like he was going to be so annoying that she would-

Well, he didn’t know what he thought she would do actually. He just felt it wouldn’t be good. 

“I think,” Annabeth said, closing her textbook and twinning her fingers through Percy’s to tug him to his feet. “We should go get something to eat.” 

You know, if they’re going to show us Percy killing himself to get into college, can they at least tell us what he’s going to study, and let us see him feeling somewhat excited about it?

yeah, as far as i can tell the general consensus that percy is going for marine biology is bc of annabeth's throwaway line. if percy's major has been confirmed somewhere, i'd love to see it.

it's weird that rick hasn't written percy actually liking any of his classes since...mr brunner's??? which percy didn't even find the specific material interesting as much as he found mr brunner to be engaging. the lack of focus makes sense, at least, in pjo and hoo bc their focus is less on school, so percy's classes are on the backburner after tlt (outside of acknowledging he's not experiencing straight-up ableism and is therefore doing better), but w the focus on college in the new marketing trilogy, percy's lack of interest stands out. it would be so easy to have percy say that he really enjoyed x class or lecture or assignment and wanted to study it more/focus on it in college. instead, rick has written percy to be slacking off in class, as if that was his problem and not, you know, the ableism he was experiencing (which is why mr brunner was the exception) and the fact that he had to miss a year of school bc of hoo. also, i'm unsure what accommodations (if any) alternative high is making for percy...considering he says he can quote sparknotes instead of shakespeare makes me doubt they're giving him audiobooks for his dyslexia...but the fact that percy is written to be struggling in his senior year bc he's lazy and not disabled is literally just ableism.

it makes it difficult to see college as a "good ending" when percy 1) has never showed an interest in pursuing a specific field of study (outside of him technically being a published author in-universe, which i'm not sure counts bc it's not referenced in the series...? is the implication percy writes the books after going to college? idk.), 2) is working himself incredibly hard to the point where's he's falling asleep in class, and 3) has to leave his mother/family behind to live across the country. rick also changed it so that demigods don't really have to worry abt monsters once they're 18 (which is coding for their disabilities...) and retconned nru so it requires good sat scores and isn't a full college (it's a satellite campus w uc berkeley and annabeth goes to classes at berkeley bc they don't have what she wants at nru???), so there's really no unique incentive for percy to be going to college at all, let alone in new rome. it's a series of very strange writing choices. to say the least.

[judgeanon]

So How About That Batgirl #3

I didn't transplant my review of #2 here because there wasn't that much more to say, especially in regards to Lady Shiva (which is always the most important part of any comic with her in it for me) but #3, hooo boy, there's a lot to talk about for this one.

It introduces, or maybe just expands, a concept that kinda had me feeling a bit nervous but eventually won me over, and still has room for some fun narrative trickery. So I'm gonna go ahead and post my full review of the issue down here:

Picking off where #2 left off, #3 starts with Shiva and Cass on a train heading out of Gotham to meet some allies in their fight against the unburied. And Cass is noooot happy about it.

These opening pages follow the same character dynamic we've seen so far, with Cass openly rejecting her mother's remarks while inwardly rejecting her mother in general -- her inner monologue constantly reassuring herself that Shiva is a lonely manipulative monster while Cass is a good person, clearly to try to chase away the guilt of leaving everyone behind. The desperation in Cass' inner voice to paint Shiva as an unredeemable monster is very palpable and very good in the face of everything that's happened so far.

But the next pages made me a little concerned, with Shiva berating Cass while goading her about her relation with the batfamily. And while we've seen Shiva take jabs at that before, notably in Hill's Outsiders, back then it felt more pointed (and a little meta, what with the whole "He won't even let you be Batgirl" thing), while here Shiva's comments on languages, while true in a way, felt more openly cruel. Bordering on villainous.

Had the issue stayed this way, I would've been very worried about this whole arc turning into yet another milquetoast "Evil bio mom, good found family" yarn. But then the track switches.

The lion's share of the issue is dedicated to introducing the survivors of the Order of Shiva, who have dedicated thier lives not to just worship the deadliest hands on Earth, but to study, learn & better themselves through her example. Which is an idea that could've gone very wrong. Personally? I think this is kinnnnnda neat. Mostly.

The thing is, I've never been a fan of Shiva having any kind of cult or organization built around her. I think it's the kind of stuff that can weigh her down and, at worst, just be used to make her more of a pure villain, like in Dixon's RICHAR DRAGON run. But in this issue, the idea slowly won me over with how Brombal uses it to explore two overlooked aspects of Shiva:

The first is that Shiva, at her best, tends to inspire others. Just by entering a person's life, Shiva, tends to change their perceptions of reality, of what's possible. When Shiva entered Vic's life, she indirectly got him to question a lot of things about how he viewed reality. Same with Dinah and, yes, Cass herself. And this order seems to be entirely built on that idea of Shiva as someone who makes people rethink everything (albeit with way more altruism than Shiva herself).

The other thing this whole scene explores is Shiva's dualities and seeming contradictions, her nature as both destroyer and restorer. Which is something I'm always happy to see, especially nowadays. But this is also where my one big problem with this issue lies: it pays a lot of lip service to Shiva as a healer without actually showing it.

A mention is made of Cass rejecting Shiva's help, but an actual moment of Shiva using her healing skills, to me, would've really helped support High Priest's Jayesh gushing praise of that dual nature.

Just a couple of panels of her doing some funky pressure point head massage, it's all I'm asking.

Beyond that, I do have one nitpick that's just about the one thing that keeps me from fully embracing this idea, and that's Shiva's level of involvement with the order. Jayesh drops a hint of how he met Shiva, and she seems to care at least a little for him and for the Order, but there's not a lot said about how much she helped them build and maintain it.

If they're all people who ran into her, had their minds opened and built an order around their idea of her, that's one thing. If she helped them build it then that's another. Her small moments of caring do seem to indicate she's also warmed up to them, which would suggest some relatively high involvement, which I don't really like. I'd much prefer the order being something that Shiva is aware of but keeps at arm's length, a bunch of well-intentioned groupies that, like the issue says, follow her example rather than her orders. The bottom line is that I don't like anything that Shiva seems to be too attached to, but even if she was, I'm still mostly OK with this idea.

Anyway, the final leg of the issue is dedicated to a very entertaining chase and fight across the rest of the train that's a delight to see. And while my copy's all digital, I imagine it's way better in paper. Miyazawa and Spicer clearly have a lot of fun with these pages and it continues the run's interesting dynamic of Cass and Shiva never being fully in sync during a fight, always fighting each other as much as whoever's all around them.

But apart from the action, the thing that rang a lot of bells for me was Cass' narration as it insists again that Shiva is nothing but a monster and that Cass is nothing like her, eventually flowing towards a very heroic list of all her family members and their core traits that's very nice and heartwarming... and desperate.

Because the narration in this scene all reads to me like Cass arguing with herself. It reads desperately like her trying to chase away the dual thoughts that her mother may not be a complete monster AND that she herself, Cass, really is a lot like her mother.

Hell, the scene is literally Cass running away from Shiva, punching through what she sees as undisputable proof of her mother's lies while checklisting the family she does want and love, physically and mentally fighting against even the possibility of Shiva being worthy of more than her disgust. It's not Cass rejecting Shiva for being evil, it's her trying to reject the evidence that she may have something resembling good in her.

So the whole thing takes a very heroic cliche, Cass naming all these loved one to give her strength, and turns into a flailing flurry of mental gymnastics from Cass to allow herself to keep rejecting Shiva, to maintain this inner image of her as a monster while refusing any connection with her. And it's all pretty compelling stuff.

The issue then ends with one final surprise as Cass runs into the rest of Shiva's allies: a resurrected Nyssa Al-Ghul, Angel Breaker and a brand new character we'll apparently learn more about next month. So yeah, this was an interesting issue. The pacing of the arc is still a bit slow, but with all the players (hopefully) at the table and three issues to go, I hope the rest of the arc will pick up steam and keep chugging along smoothly.

I wasn't expecting the Order of Shiva to get much more play after #1. I certainly wasn't expecting them to get expanded like this. And I definitely didn't expect it to win me over this much. Minor quibbles aside, I gotta give props to Brombal for the obvious thought he's put when laying down these tracks for Shiva, and I'm definitely in for the rest of the ride.

(then again, maybe I'm just being blinded by the intense relatability of my man Jayesh over here. I feel you, brother. Hope you survive this arc)

[dallasgallant]

Time period post: trust and faith

The title is a bit misleading for this post as it is not necessarily trust for everything/everyone but more an inherent trust in community and neighborhood. This is a time when people would leave their front doors wide open and small talk wasn’t a chore. Now, I know now days you can’t exactly leave your door open but I can’t help but feel we’ve truly lost when smiling and talking to strangers is compared to “emotional labor” you know? This post is about a trust that’s become lost in everyday life, social nets and a sense of safety.

Basically life pre serial killers lol

Contradiction—

While there was greater faith in society that is not a monolith or a universal truth, there was simultaneously less and more fear. Something to keep in mind is this era is coming out of McCarthism, the Cold War, the height of civil rights - still racism and xenophobia, homophobia- the beginnings of the gay rights movements. There were still broader anxieties- especially as so much change and progress was happening it leads to a lot of worry and anxieties! Some rational others not. A lot to unlearn/unpack and learn!

Urban sprawl is another cause for anxiety, and contradictory to this faith in society, while it opened a lot of opportunities for home ownership to those who’d never had the opportunity prior… it became a never ending machine chipping away at the countryside. Freeways bulldoze communities, some neighborhoods are blocked racially, some are so large you start to loose it a little. Now this is by no means a 1960s explosives it started in the 40s but the fear and sprawl of it all starts to take head.

The rise of the middle class comes with the bad alongside its many goods. Like the rise of consumerism, again largely post ww2

There was so much fear but at the same time a more … relaxed? Society for lack of a better word, it’ll make sense once I get into it.

Streetlights and latchkeys-

There’s a lot to be said about knowing and trusting your neighborhood and community, being able to have your kids play a few blocks away without much worry and leaving your door open. Now part of this, I will concede was a lot of parents just not knowing and hands off parenting. Push your kids out “don’t come back until or be sure to by back when the streetlights come on”. Not always neglectful but different from the helicopter preferences of today.

I’m not exaggerating either, the storm door would be closed but if someone was home usually the front or back door would be open. For friends, family, deliveries etc- you’d yell in first of course but then be welcomed on in. There was always serial killers but they wouldn’t become a huge fear until the absolute boom of them in the 70s-80s.

Alongside faith there was a lot less rules/regulations/laws garnering certain behaviors. You could send your kid into the store with a note to buy things such as booze or cigarettes! Sometimes just a few regular groceries if your kids out and your busy (my mom talks about running into a store to get cigarettes for her mom a lot). People trusted the note, parents trusted their kids to get what was asked and come back home right away. It was much more common to see kids unsupervised and completely fine, walking home safely - it was normal!

Latchkey kid: a child who is at home without adult supervision for some part of the day, especially after school until a parent returns from work.

8+ , young but older enough where the child is responsible/capable enough to get home and be able to care for themselves. In this I mean they’re at least able to make a sandwich and keep themselves entertained, not pay taxes or anything. The term and the idea of it took off in regard to teenagers in ww2 but they’ve been around for ages as - again childhood as we understand it post child labor is still a pretty new thing.

Latchkey kids typically were families who couldn’t afford daycare/child care facilities or had any nearby family to watch the kids or who could afford to watch them themselves. Sometimes a neighbor would be the there to call/check on them but not a constant watch.

BBQ and casserole-

Something that kept communities close/ knowing each other were regular get togethers. There were town events and social halls but also the classic neighborhood BBQ or block party! Dances (both adult and teen) when that was huge- different from clubbing and clubbing was also different.

It’s a trope now but bringing casseroles to a friend or neighbor who lost someone, being updated on their lives and there for them. Local clubs for just about anything! Hosting!

Hosting was huge amongst upper class and the ever expanding middle class. All sorts of parties and events, BBQ’s included. Tupperware parties were another big thing, or Avon calls— women’s get togethers mainly to sell product/have product sold to them (think MLM but more reputable)

Cocktail parties! Snacks and a big jug of a type of cocktail and adults hanging out. Not always friends a lot of the time men from work, important or otherwise.

This isn’t to say that clubs, parties and community events aren’t a thing anymore but more it was much more prominent than I’ve experienced/seen it today. That and of course it’s a while different era certain aspects were different.

It was a lot easier to have much more faith in society (and trust in neighbors) when it was more common to actually take the time to get to know the people around you. When there wasn’t 24/7 news cycles of fear or a million ways to get constant new info- when you got it through good old fashioned local gossip. I’ve talked about Locality before in some of my other posts!

[autisticfaun420]

I opened up to my mom about age regression

(if you are reading this and are new to my blog I am high support needs autistic and I already have childish interests please don’t say I’m infantilizing autism)

So first of all she kind of knew something was up with me, I brought my plushie with me to my disability day program. I showed her my blog, she said she hadn’t logged into my account to check yet so it was a surprise to her. First of all she was very proud and said I was brave for opening about some of my struggles and being so candid about it, I don’t know if it’s bravery or just autism making it so I don’t know what’s appropriate to share haha. Then I showed her my posts about age regression and how I learned about it here and was like, instant hyper fixation for me. I told her about how I never felt negatively infantilized by her and my dad almost never compared to people at school or strangers and I enjoy the connection we have when my parents kind of “baby” me the right way when they take care of my support needs. Like I need to have physical touch to calm me down and being cradled and my diaper changes are met with nick names, hugs and tickles, yeah very embarrassing I’m sure but whatever. I told her about “little space” and how I already enter it when she takes care of me sometimes and she said she always knew something like was going on but never pushed me or into it and made sure I was enjoying myself in those moments. She said if it would make me happy she and my dad would for sure be willing to help me out with little space. I told her that I want to take the power back from people who infantilized me negatively and assume I can’t think for myself by doing this and that surprised her but she said it made sense. I mentioned that I want to keep what independences and adult privileges I do have and I don’t want them to think I want this 24/7 and they said of coarse they will and I trust them. She had a talk with my dad real fast and they agreed to let me spend some of the money I saved up doing internet surveys, like a hundred dollars for an age regression starting pack essentially, my dad asked if this is really what I want and I guess the way I looked at him after and nodded made him believe me. My dad talked to me about how it’s important to keep my regression inside so others don’t get the wrong idea and I said of coarse and I shouldn’t do more then take my plushie with me in public and I agree. However I’m getting an adult sized bottle and pacifier, a mobile for my special needs cubby bed and a few fisher price toys. I am over the moon ecstatic and my mom said she’ll throw in the money for overnight shipping cause I earned it for using coping mechanisms when meltdowns could of gone worse lately.

I told them about pet regression too and they were still supportive of me being interested in it, they said they would feel uncomfortable with treating their disabled child like a pet personally and I can see where they’re coming from on that. They told me that one day I can find someone special to do that stuff with. As you can imagine dating is really hard with my level of needs but I’m not completely discouraged I’ll find somebody but that’s a post for another day. We did have a talk about how much I enjoyed being on an anti elopement harness and how I would pretend play as a puppy when out on walks with her, she said she knew had a feeling that’s what I was doing. Also I had my pacifier till 4 or 5 years and she said me giving it up was one of the hardest things she saw me go through and joked about it like I’m a drug addict about to relapse on it. I still have so many oral stims and use chewerly throughout the day so I think she has a point. Imagining what a paci would feel like in my mouth makes me feel so happy. I am just excited all around and can’t wait till tomorrow. For now my mom asked if I wanted some “little time” tonight and of course she said yes. We watched In the Night Garden on the big TV while she stroked my hair and cuddled when I normally only watch shows like that on my tablet as a form of stimming I guess. It was nice watching it where I could relax. I felt extra giggly at all the dumb stuff in the show, my friends describe it as an “acid trip” if that gives you an idea about what it’s like. My mom after the episode tickles me down and played games with me like I did when I was a little kid and I loved it. I started crying tears of happiness because I felt so loved I guess you could say. She teared a little bit too and told me every mother secretly wishes they could still baby their grown children so she said she had fun, I don’t know if it’s true or not but it’s a funny thought.

I feel so happy I wanted to write this out and share with you guys. I don’t know what else to say I think I wrote out enough. Now my mom wants me to get into my pajamas early I think she’s having too much fun with this but so am I and my dad is gonna run to get some of my favorite ice cream when I was a kid. I feel so lucky to have parents who can support my physical and emotional and disability support needs.

[hexy-lynesdein]

The Traveler & her Path Behind

“Wounds suffered, lessons learned.”

I think the most prominent part about episode 4 other than it being Alice's trial— wherein she was able to ended her generational curse for once and for all; changing something that she thinks “wasn't real”, is that you get to see how it affecting her.

How Alice realizes that she was angry at her mom who was only trying to save her. Lorna did everything in her power to protect Alice in any way she could. So that even if she was no longer present on Alice's life— her protection through the song, in which she pours all of her love for her daughter into, would persist. Thanks to the people who sang that song with as much passion as how Lorna is writing it for Alice.

And I love how she learned all of this from a journey with a broken coven, each filled with covenless witches who had their own issues. But even though they are hardly a “true” coven— they were there for Alice. They sat there with her on that campfire, talking about each scars that they had, so that she wouldn't feel so bad about hers. And for once, she felt that hole in her heart was slowly filled with warmth. That similar type of warmth that she's been missing for ages.

Alice has always been angry all her life. It's easier for her to get angry and blame something instead of grieving it. Because being angry is relatively easier than grieving because you feel like you are in control of your life, you get this power to push through from that fire burning in you. But unlike anger, grief is far from that. It's that feeling of hollow and emptiness— that you acknowledge something was no longer yours. It's gone and you have to accept that. You will eventually move on and there might be something else that will replace it. You will learn to live side by side with this pit that sits with you and it will left you in a vulnerable state, and that's not alright. It's hard to said it'll be alright when it clearly didn't. But eventually, you'd move on. People always do. That's just how life is always been.

And for once, when the cause of Alice's angers was no longer there— and that she was finally free from it after a long time of suffering, she felt nothing but sadness.

This is a simple phrase if it were to be said by anyone. However, it held much bigger weight when it was Lilia who said that.

Lilia being the oldest witch from the coven. Lilia who's been alive for 400+ years. Lilia who made it this far in life, seeing all the horrors, and the tragedies that humanity experienced— the malice that lurked in their hearts. She's seen it all. She saw their path and “destination”; but mostly their destination because of her gift. That's almost all the thing she ever saw throughout her life up until now. Not to mention the flow of time that seems to be never standing with her.

It makes her angry. Because she saw it all. Lilia has seen their death. The causes and what's about to happen. But there is nothing she could do about it. She warns them. She tells them. And it didn't change anything. There's nothing she could do about the outcome. Because her task as a seer isn't supposed to change. She's there to observe — to see. And that alone upsets her. She turned away from her gift. Unwilling to use something that is a part of herself. For years. Decades. Probably centuries. Because why would she be? Death is all she'd seen. Why would she want to subject herself into something that would hurt her? Something that would only make her sad? And that's why, in the end, she resorted into being a con artist. Masking herself behind something that was not Lilia Calderu the chased-out-of-every-village-for-accurately-predicting-tragedies; running away from her true self.

Lilia already lost count on how many days and nights that she yearns for a change. To be able to do something for once. Flashes upon flashes would appear on the peripheral of her vision. About her coven. Her family. Her sister in the craft. And often times she wondered if a miracle would happened again in her life.

And it finally did.

When Agatha Harkness recruited Lilia to joined her coven, she almost wanted to spat. No one with a sane mind would willingly joined her coven. But fate always has its own ways with Lilia as her future self went back into that fateful day, where she write down the name of her new coven. Assigning herself to embark into a treacherous journey with a group of people that she, somehow, has quite a lot in common.

From there, she learns again what it feels to have a coven and be in a coven. Each trials they faced with death and their worst nightmare following in their step. But at least they are together this time. Lilia is not alone and maybe she could actually count on these people. Perhaps the walk down on this road with the infamous Agatha Harkness is going to change her. Maybe she still couldn't prevent deaths but at least she could piece up something that she has been missing. A part of herself that she was trying so hard to ignore— a part of herself that yearns for some form of connections through sisterhood.

And she finally got it again. She saw Jennifer who's capable of saving a life while being bound. Changing the outcome of Teen's life. She saw Alice fighting, oh ever so bravely, and full of fire. Ending her family's generational curse for once and for all — changing something that she thought she couldn't. She's seen all the struggles and how it impacts them.

And there they sat in that campfire, after the fire-trial. Sharing their own scars as an attempt to make Alice felt better about herself. Lilia saw the sadness that lingered on the once fierce and full of fire woman. She's seen it and she acknowledge it, she knows that feeling all too well. Lilia feels like she saw a piece of herself on her new coven members yet again, and she felt the urge to give Alice one last words of comfort, “Sad is better than angry”. And maybe that words is not enough to fully filled the hole in Alice's heart on its own, but as long as it means that Lilia could have a chance to do something for her sisters in the craft instead of running away again or being indifferent like how she always do— then that's fine. It's okay. She will take those chances.

And Alice? Alice is grateful to hear that from Lilia— who lives longer than her, who suffers worse things than her, and who knows so much more than her. Because to be loved, is to be seen and heard. And now Alice is surrounded with love.

[kenziebluex]

The Broken Heart That Makes Us

Gojo likes to wine and dine. enjoy 🥰

Story Description: 

Your arranged marriage is on its last legs. After making an agreement with your step son, Megumi, you are puzzled when you are faced with finally making a decision.

Your whole life so far has been planned for you, leading you to struggle with the idea of moving on and finding something stable…someone stable.  

Will you finally be able to let go of the life that was made for you? Will there be others out there willing to pick up the pieces?

(18+) Pairings: Toji, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, & Choso.

Read on ao3: TBHTMU

Chapter 4:

The next day Gojo wanted you to come by the dojo to sign some waivers. You changed from out of your work clothes and into a cobalt blue off the shoulder sundress that reached an inch before your knees. You wore a small gold necklace with your first initial. Megumi noticed that you have been acting strange lately and instead of studying in his room, he leaned against the wall blocking the front door with his arms folded.

“3rd night out in a row? Isn’t your drama series going to be lonely if you keep missing out on new episodes?” Megumi tilted his head. You knew that sooner or later he was going to wonder where you kept running off to.

“Did you finish your homework?” You tried to change the subject.

“Yes. Your turn.” He answered dryly.

“Listen. Sometimes big people like to do big people things-.” 

“Mom. I’ve already learned everything in sex ed.” Megumi huffed. 

“I WASN’T TALKING ABOUT THAT!” You interrupted but Megumi was still unphased. “I’m going out to sign some waivers for your practices. Your sensei said that he needs my  permission before you start training separately.” You explained. 

Megumi heaved himself off the wall and brushed past you to head to his room. You proceeded to place your hand on the handle to open the front door.

“I’m not a kid anymore. You don’t need to hide everything from me.” You heard Megumi say as he entered his room and closed the door. His words invaded your brain as a small ounce of guilt followed you as you drove to the dojo.

_________

When you arrived, Gojo was finishing up teaching the beginner level students. You snuck a peek at the class and noticed the small children surrounding him while he led the class with energy and passion. Before he had a chance to lock eyes with you, you darted out of the entryway. You waited near the entrance and leaned your back against the shoji screen wall and waited for the students to clear out. You idled around on your phone while scrolling through video edits.

“Welcome, Miss stalker~.” You heard a voice echo from beside you. Your body jolted and you stumbled back as Gojo peeked his head around the sliding door. 

“Of course you knew I was here….” You rolled your eyes.

“I noticed a pair of puppy dog eyes watching me when I spoke to the kids. Dreaming of the future already?” Gojo teased and you brushed past him to walk towards his office. 

“You want me to sign some waivers, right? Let’s just get this over with.” You heard the sound of footsteps follow close behind you. Gojo’s office in the dojo matched the surroundings. A tatami mat flooring with a floor desk with zabuton cushions on the side behind the desk and in front.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to shower to rinse the sweat off. Unless~”

“I’ll wait right here, thank you!” You beamed as you sat in criss cross applesauce on the zabuton.  You waited for almost 30 minutes while you took time to examine the office. It looks like there is another sliding door that probably connects to the offices of other instructors. 

Papers fell flat on the floor desk. You looked up next to you to see Gojo in nothing but a robe drying his hair off from the shower. The smell of shampoo and body wash occupied your senses as he lowered himself to sit next to you. His robe was open, allowing a shameless view of his polished chest. Droplets of water still lingered on his collarbone.

With one leg propped up, he leaned an elbow on it and softly rested his chin on his knuckles. He tossed the towel drying his hair to the side. You turned your head to look over the agreements and suggestions of the waiver until Gojo snapped you out of thought. 

“When Megumi first started with us, it seemed like he didn’t really get along with anyone. It took a lot to get him to come out of his shell.” Your shoulders slumped inwards at his words.

“After practices started, I wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to get far. He was unreadable and I wasn’t sure if he’d be responsive to growth. Sometimes not being able to read your opponent is a strength but there is a difference between having emotional control and no emotions at all.” Gojo continued sitting back on his arm. You remained quiet while listening to his evaluation.

“But as I got to work with him, I found out how wrong I was.” Your head snapped to see Gojo gaze at you with a tender smile. 

“His passion doesn’t show on his face but in his movements. He’s a good listener and takes criticism seriously. He works harder than anyone I’ve ever worked with. I guess he gets that from you.” Gojo’s eyes tunneled yours as he awaited your response. But instead you turned your head and a small chuckle fell from your lips.

“He’s just a really good kid.” You responded in a matter-of-fact tone. “He has his own dreams and aspirations just like anyone else.” 

You paused and then cocked your head to the side and raised an eyebrow mischievously. You traced your hand down the collar of his robe and pulled him inches from your face. Red hue glossed Gojo’s cheeks as he looked at you from under his blanched lashes. 

“So I’m choosing to trust you with his dreams. Understand?” You warned. Your eyes fell to his lips and he bit his bottom lip in response. 

“Yes ma’am.” He groaned and then you overtook his lips.

The kiss was filled with more passion than at the restaurant. Gojo used his right hand to hold your head steady and his left hand to trail up your exposed thigh. His hand breached under your dress and fondled with the lace of your underwear. He slowly pushed you down flat on your back and stroked your clothed lips slowly.

Gojo broke the kiss and used his right hand to part your mouth with his thumb. Your tongue swirled around it and he watched amused and used his index and middle fingers to knead faster. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and your eyes scrunched as he teased your clothed sensitive spot. 

“Mmm. Fucckk. I’ve been waiting to see what drives you wild.” He hummed and pushed your knees up and settled himself in between your legs. He used both hands to hold both sides of  your underwear but paused to look up for your ‘ok’. You nodded once and Gojo slipped your underwear down your thighs and tossed them somewhere across the room.

He flipped your dress up and grappled you with firm hands on your hips to drag you closer. He leaned over you, resting his left arm next to your head and parted your dampened lips with his middle and index fingers on his right hand. He rested his forehead against yours while he teased everywhere around your pussy except in it. Your eyebrows furrowed as you squirmed your hips to guide his hand.

“Should I give you what you want?” Gojo purred while using his thumb to press your clit like a joystick. 

“Ahh…nnghh…” Your head fell to the side and desperate groans spilled from your lips. 

Without warning, Gojo breached your hole with his two fingers and your body jolted up, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You mewled into his shoulder as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you slowly. Your walls tightened and spasmed against his pinching digits. You buried your head into his neck and your moans grew louder and longer. 

Gojo turned and kissed the side of your head.

“When was the last time you touched yourself here, baby?” He whispered and the words made you feel drunk. “Do you think about me when you do? Hm?” 

He picked up speed and you felt his cock, hardened and desperate gapping through his robe which fell slack against his body. Your hips moved faster against his hand as you felt your climax nearing. 

“Yes…yes…I do…” You gave rushed answers as you continued to ride Gojo’s hand. 

“I love how honest you are when you’re fucking my hand.” Gojo praised and combined thrusting his fingers while toying with your clit. 

Gojo released his hand from your warm walls and you gasped as you had your climax ripped from you. He unlatched your arms from around his shoulders and pushed you flat again. 

He spreads your thighs and hovers his mouth over your aching and throbbing cunt. He connected his lips with yours down below and speared his tongue into your hole. You yelped in pleasure and entangled your hands into his pale locks. 

“Fuck! Oh god-!” You moaned as he licked up your juices with his tongue and sucked on your clit with his lips. Your voice echoed in his brain as he used one hand to hold down your hips and the other to start wrenching against his cock. He moaned in response to yours and gripped your hip tight. 

“Sa-Satoru!!” You cried, latching your legs around his head tight and drove your core against his face. His tongue moved in quick succession to instigate your end. Your climax came hot and fast with your mouth hanging open in a silent scream and gasping for air. After hearing the cry of his name, Gojo released a long groan and started rubbing his cock faster. 

After coming down from your high, you unlatched your legs and forced Gojo up. His face was flushed red, lips pink and glistening. His breaths were labored as he was still jerking off. You looked down at his body. He held his cock firm, it was extremely long and pulsing pink. You sat up and pushed him on his back and pulled his robe loose. 

Gojo looked up at you from below with pleading eyes and you took hold of his dick that stood at full attention with both hands. 

“Ah-!” Gojo was clearly sensitive as his head snapped to the side and he tried to contain his moans as you gripped his cock. His eyes were closed and his face was red to his ears, contrasting against his damp white hair.

Motivated by his cries, you started using both hands to twist your wrists. Gojo’s abs were taut and a vein trailed up the side of his cock. You brought your tongue to the top and tasted his precum. Gojo hissed.

You used your hands to work his cock while tasting him with your tongue. You then took the head into your mouth. Gojo sighed loudly and gripped his hand on the back of your head. He guided your head up and down and you used your hand when your mouth couldn’t reach the rest. 

“Ahh…baby….” He hummed. You attempt to take a peek from under your teary eyelashes and his head is thrown back and Adam’s apple bobbing fiercely. You felt him force your head a bit deeper and you almost choked as it rammed against the back of your throat.

“Baby, open your mouth a little more. Hold still.” He ordered, feverish and ready to cum. You obeyed and Gojo clawed the back of your head with both hands. He flattened his feet on the ground and thrusted into your mouth. You coughed at the force.

He continued quickly. Expletives falling from his mouth everytime he fucked into yours. Gojo mercilessly rammed his cock in the back of your throat as your saliva soaked down his dick and to the floor. 

“Mmm…hahhh…” Gojo groaned as you felt his member swell and pulse in your mouth. His hips shot up and he emptied his seed down your throat.

“Ohh…fucckkk!” He moaned long and throaty. You coughed and gagged at the stuffing of his dick and cum clogging your throat. Gojo pulled your head up to detach and you were still coughing with your mouth still full of his spend.

His cock still twitched. He covered his eyes with his arm but you could clearly see he was satisfied but embarrassed. His chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath. He peeked a curious eye under his arm and you licked your lips of his cum seductively. His eyes went wide and he chuckled in defeat.

“God…you win.” He admitted and a sense of pride boiled in your belly. You fumbled for a pen and signed the waiver forms. “I look forward to working with you, sensei.” You sang innocently while Gojo stared at you defiantly.

taglist: @beetusbritt ❤ @nousija ❤ @notleclerc divider by @cafekitsune

❀ follow for more ❀ ao3: kenzieblue❀

-kenzie & des

[woodlaflababab]

I think forgiveness is such a heavy topic that's far more complex than people give it credit for. It's like love. There's multiple forms of it and everyone feels it differently and having just one word to describe it has really shot our language in the foot. I think about it a lot when I see some atla discourse and while I don't like the discourse, it's made me really appreciate the show for the fact that it shows forgiveness in a multifaceted way. From Aang's forgiveness which is based on the inherent value of a person and the emotional turmoil it inflicts on oneself, to Katara's forgiveness which is based on trust and justice. Or the forms of self forgiveness, Iroh's self forgiveness of patience, Zuko's hardwon self forgiveness which comes from a determination to better himself, to Aang's self forgiveness which comes from an allowance to not conform to the ways others expect him to better himself.

Forgiveness has been such a tricky subject in my life. I will always appreciate atla for helping me understand it a little better.

[enigmaris]

Another DPXDC for ya fellas!

Pandora, the ghost, was an Amazon from Themyscira in life, losing her life to trap all of those eldritch horrors in her box. In her afterlife, she has kept in contact with the other Amazons, coming to their aid when called upon.

So when the first child of themyscira was molded out of clay, Pandora knew. She liked Diana, admired her stubbornness, strength, and sense of wonder. She knew the girl had left to go to the world of man a while ago, but hadnt heard anything else about her. She wasnt worried about her though, Diana was the strongest of all the Amazons, kind and brave. The world of man would not pose too much of a danger to her.

After the whole thing her box getting stolen and Danny returning it to her. She takes on something if a motherly role to Phantom. She doesn't really know how kids work though, she comes from a race of women where there were no children. Diana is literally the only living child she has ever known. Pandora herself was never even a child. When Danny flees from his life in Amity Park (reveal gone wrong, family dies, or something) he goes to Pandora who wants to help him, but her acropolis is no place for a half living boy. So she tells him about her niece Diana.

"She was the only child of my people, when she grew up she left to the world of man."

Literally the only child??? Danny is imagining like, someone maybe his sister Jazzs age who ran away from home because she lived on an island with all adults and no fun. It does not help his assumption that Pandora talks about Diana like shes still wet from the clay she was molded in.

Danny is given a letter written by Pandora, asking Diana to help care for him and told that last Pandora heard her little niece lived in Washington DC. Danny goes to DC and manages to find Diana based on Pandora description. She is not at all what Danny was imagining, but she takes him to her home and reads the letter describing Danny's heroics with Pandoras box.

Diana Prince takes one look at this human boy and thinks to herself: if Bruce and Clark can just show up with a teenager, then why can't i?

Queue the next Justice League meeting:

"I would like to introduce my son, Daniel of Themyscira, he will be accompanying me on all Justice League missions. No Batman i will no be accepting any criticism from you of all people."

Danny, in human form, waves at the team of heroes with his string bean arms.

"Hi."

[sereniv]

Can someone who is NOT a zionist tell me why Jewish people have so much conspiracy and hate? when did it start and why? how and why did it spread?

Preferably someone who is jewish or really knows what theyre talking about answer

[hauntingmiser]

⚠️ : eyes ?

Day 22

Gives you two succubuses