#my beautiful daughter his name is Texture
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#my beautiful daughter his name is Texture#talos stimboards#stimboard#stim#album stimboard#they might be giants#tmbg#gold stim#gold#gold and blue#blue stim#blue#white#brown#paper#fabric#cloth#dresses#embroidery#flowers#stars#art#trypo#interiors#wine cellar#sapphire#kintsugi#plates#irl hands#gif ids
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I need a one shot of Amelia & John with their future kid(s)? After WW2 is over or them at buck’s wedding I’m desperate😭
a different era, major john egan
pairing: major john egan x amelia mae egan. content: amelia and john experience a different era of their lives. an: hope you enjoy!
taglist: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ineedafictionalman @ihe4rtisa @lovebyceleste
“My pretty girl…” His voice was hardly above a whisper. The swaying of the wind outside was louder than he was. There was a point in time where he never thought he’d be in this position; rocking in a chair by a window, holding his child in his embrace.
His life was different. In just two years, the trajectory of his path. He was once a partying bachelor with no care in the world. Until she came along and turned the world upside down.
He found himself married. Married and with a child. Who’d known life would have come to this? It was shocking, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He smiled softly.
John tightened his grip around the baby in his arms. Joanna Adeline Egan was a godsend. A gift from God birthed through the blessing named Amelia Mae. She was beautiful; not much bigger than his forearm, and lighter than a feather. She was precious. Joanna looked just like him; slender eyes, broad nose, and straight lips, but had her mother’s complexion and hair texture. A beautiful masterpiece created by two artists in love.
John’s ears perked at the sound of the floorboards squeaking. By the scent of vanilla and sandalwood, he noticed her presence. He whispered a quiet greeting and welcomed the kiss against his temple. “Hey, Rose.”
“Hi, my love. Did it take her long to go back down?” He shook his head. Newborns were a lot of work, but surprisingly, Johanna was alright. She was calm like her mother; he was glad she got that trait.
“You’re a great father,” Amelia whispered, draping her arm across his shoulder. He’d done a complete 180 from the time they had their first break-up and it brought her heart joy. He said he was committed to her and he proved it. They were engaged then married shortly after. Now, here he was; holding their daughter against his bare chest as he rocked her back to sleep. They were in a different era. She smiled softly, “Thank you…”
“Thank you…there’s no her without you,” he said after some time. He finally tore his eyes away from the baby in his arms. “I love you forever, Amelia.”
Her dimples appeared as she smiled as widely as her tired features would let her. “I love you, Egan. For the rest of my ways.”
As he gazed at his sleeping daughter in his arms, John felt contentment wash over him like a wave. In this moment, surrounded by the love of his family, he knew that life had led him exactly where he was meant to be.
#saturnville#black!reader#black reader#masters of the air#major john egan x amelia mae egan by saturnville#major john egan x black reader#major john egan x amelia mae egan#major john egan x black!reader#major john egan x reader#callum turner major john bucky egan#callum turner x reader#callum turner x black!reader#callum turner x black reader#callum turner x reader#callum turner#bucky egan x black reader#bucky egan x reader#mastersoftheair#mota#john egan x reader
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Propaganda
Loretta Young (The Farmer’s Daughter, The Stranger, Love is News)— Her cheekbones!! Her lips!! Her big eyes and small nose and not quite classical features!! The planes of her face hypnotize me and her smile clears my mind of anything else. She’s an interesting beauty, not a standard one, almost in a Mads Mikkelsen type way (I repeat: cheekbones). Also I’m begging people to watch The Farmer’s Daughter, a charming rom com where my babygirl Joseph Cotten falls through the ice while skating because he got distracted by how pretty she was, and where Loretta puts on a 40s-bad Swedish accent and runs for Congress! Girlboss!
Marlene Dietrich (Shanghai Express, Witness for the Prosecution, Morocco)—its marlene dietrich!!!! queer legend, easily the hottest person to ever wear a tuxedo, that hot hot voice, those glamorous glamorous movies.... most famously she starred in a string of movies directed by josef von sternberg throughout the 1930s, beginning with the blue angel which catapulted her to stardom in the role of the cabaret singer lola lola. known for his exquisite eye for lighting, texture, imagery, von sternberg devoted himself over the course of their collaborations to acquiring exceptional skill at photographing dietrich herself in particular, a worthy direction in which to expend effort im sure we can all agree. she collaborated with many other great directors of the era as well, including rouben mamoulian (song of songs), frank borzage (desire), ernst lubitsch (angel), fritz lang (rancho notorious), and billy wilder (witness for the prosecution). the encyclopedia britannica entry im looking at while compiling this propaganda describes her as having an “aura of sophistication and languid sexuality” which✔️💯. born marie magdalene dietrich, she combined her first and middle names to coin the moniker “marlene”. she was a trendsetter in her incorporation of trousers, suits, and menswear into her wardrobe and her androgynous allure was often remarked upon. critic kenneth tynan wrote, “She has sex, but no particular gender. She has the bearing of a man; the characters she plays love power and wear trousers. Her masculinity appeals to women and her sexuality to men.” in the 1920s she enjoyed the vibrant queer nightlife of weimar berlin, visiting gay bars and drag balls, and in hollywood her love affairs with men and women were an open secret. she was an ardent opponent of nazi germany, refusing lucrative contacts offered her to make films there, raising money with billy wilder to help jews and dissidents escape, and undertaking extensive USO tours to entertain soldiers with an act that included her a playing musical saw and doing a mindreading routine she learned from orson welles. starting in the 50s and continuing into the mid-70s she worked largely as a cabaret artist touring the world to large audiences, employing burt bacharach as her musical arranger.
This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Loretta Young:
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
"ms dietrich....ms dietrich pls.....sit on my face"
"First of all, there are those publicity photos of her in a tux. Second of all, I have never been the same since knowing that she sent copies of those photos to her Berlin lovers signed "Daddy Marlene." Not only is she hot in all circumstances, but she can do everything from earthy to ice queen. Also, she kept getting sexy romantic lead parts in Hollywood after the age of 40, which would be rare even now. She hated Nazis, loved her friends, and had a sapphic social circle in Hollywood. She also had cheekbones that could cut glass and a voice that could melt you."
Bisexual icon, super hot when dressed both masculine and feminine, lived up her life in the queer Berlin scene of the 1920s, central to the 'sewing circle' of the secret sapphic actresses of Old Hollywood, refused lucrative offers by the Nazis and helped Jews and others under persecution to escape Nazi Germany, the love of my life
Her GENDER her looks her voice her everything
“In her films and record-breaking cabaret performances, Miss Dietrich artfully projected cool sophistication, self-mockery and infinite experience. Her sexuality was audacious, her wit was insolent and her manner was ageless. With a world-weary charm and a diaphanous gown showing off her celebrated legs, she was the quintessential cabaret entertainer of Weimar-era Germany.”
"The bar scene in Morocco awoke something in me and ultimately changed my gender"
youtube
"Her manner, the critic Kenneth Tynan wrote, was that of ‘a serpentine lasso whereby her voice casually winds itself around our most vulnerable fantasies.’ Her friend Maurice Chevalier said: ‘Dietrich is something that never existed before and may never exist again.’”
"Songstress, photographer, fashion icon, out bisexual phenom (notoriously stole Lupe Velez and Joan Crawford's men, and Errol Flynn's wife, had a torrid affair with Greta Garbo that ended in a 60-year feud, other notable conquests including Erich Maria Remarque -yes, the guy who wrote All Quiet on the Western Front- Douglas Fairbanks Junior, Claudette Colbert, Mercedes de Acosta, Edith Piaf), anti-Nazi activist. Marlene was a bitch - she had an open marriage for decades and one of her favorite things was making catty commentary about her current lover with her husband, and her relationship with her daughter was painful- but she was also immensely talented, a hard worker, an opponent of fascism and the hottest ice queen in Hollywood for a long time."
youtube
"She can sing! She can act! She told the Nazis to fuck off and became a US citizen out of spite! She worked with other German exiles to create a fund to help Jews and German dissidents escape (she donated an entire movie salary, about $450k, to the cause). She looks REALLY GOOD in a suit. If you're not convinced, please listen to her sing "Lili Marlene". Absolutely gorgeous woman with a gorgeous voice."
Gifset link
"Bisexual icon and Nazi-hater. Looks absolutely stunning in the suits she liked to wear. 'I dress for the image. Not for myself, not for the public, not for fashion, not for men'."
"Did a bunch of humanitarian work during ww2, pretty sure a shot of her from Shanghai express was the inspiration for one of queens album covers and also her in the suit in Morocco (1930) CHANGED LIVES. I’m sure she’s already been submitted but I wanted an opportunity to submit one of my favourite pictures of her for the poll"
"would you not let her walk on you?"
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# DOVES. | CHAPTER ONE.
౨ৎ tenya iida x fem!reader fic.
season one of doves.
arranged marriage trope.
wordcount ; 1,565
paragraphs ; 35
sentences ; 92
reading time ; 6:15
songs used
— wedding opening song / walking down the aisle.
— the kiss + following scenes.
tropes ; arranged marriage, slowburn.
tenya iida is twenty eight instead of his canon age of twenty four.
readers age has been set to early or mid twenties for this fic (ofc you can make it any age you want, as long as it's not illegal.)
due to both of iida's parents being unnamed, i will figure out names for them in later chapters.
author's note: because i love my poc girlies, i will be writing reader to have brown skin. all brown girls can have any texture of hair, including straight/slightly straight. i never see character x reader being described as poc in this fandom so here we go!.
The weather today was soothing. The sun shone brighter than usual, with not a single cloud in the sky. It was an ideal day to be outdoors. You couldn't help but wish your life mirrored the warmth of the sun. Unfortunately, your existence was far from serene, born to a mother who would go to any lengths to satisfy her husband and daughter to a man who was consumed by his thirst for power.
In your father's eyes, you were less than human, a truth you eventually came to accept. However, the realization that your mother viewed you similarly was a painful blow.
As you sat in front of the mirror, your throat tight from suppressing tears, you caught your reflection. Your mother stood behind you, delicately placing a stunning wedding accessory in your hair.
Wedding.
A word that typically evokes joy for those who dream of uniting with their true love. Wedding days are meant to be filled with happiness, laughter, and tears of joy.
Yet all you felt was a sense of impending doom.
f l a s h b a c k..
“You are to marry the second son of the Iida family! I will not tolerate any more of your tears!” Your father's voice echoed through his cramped office, his weathered face contorted in rage, turning a deep shade of red.
“I don’t want to marry! Not him! Not anyone!” Despite your desperate protests and screams, your father's resolve remained unshaken. The sharp sting on your cheek from his slap left your ears ringing and your face burning, but you stood your ground, facing the man who had turned your life into a nightmare.
Your mother stood at the doorway, doing nothing to help as you struggled for control over your own life. When you turned to her, desperation in your eyes, her expression was icy, barely meeting your gaze. Your hands clutched hers, but she didn’t return the grip. Instead, she directed her attention to her husband. “The Iida family will cover the entire cost of the wedding.” Then she finally turned back to you, squeezing your hands, but the gesture felt anything but reassuring. “Stop acting like a child. It’s time for you to get married and contribute to this family.”
End of flashback.
“You make such an amazing bride.” She whispered, her eyes brimming with tears as she smiled, smoothing her hands down your arm before moving them up to give your shoulders a light squeeze. When you were a child your mother’s touch and gentle smiles used to bring you nothing but peace and comfort, but now her touches and gentle smiles left you disgusted, filled with anger.
Your hair was thoroughly brushed then pinned up into an elegant bun by a hairpiece that resembled doves. Your dress was a striking white, your shoulders and back was exposed, the silky lace gently tickled your shoulders and legs, your veil laid against a chair beside you, matching the same striking white lace of your wedding gown, little white doves decorated it.
You should’ve felt beautiful, the dress and your makeup was truly beautiful but all you felt was the tears threatening to spill and ruin your makeup. The gentle smile your mother offered you slightly wavered at your expression, her hands that were once gently squeezing your shoulders grew hard, her nails slightly digging into you. “Remember, you’re a grown woman, there’s no need to cry like a child.”
Her words pricked something deep inside you, your legs pushed you up before your brain could catch up to your movements. For a moment, a flicker of fear flashed in your mothers eyes as you stared at her down. “Get out.”
She was out the room within seconds, not sparing you a glance as she closed the door. For the next few minutes, your thoughts consumed every inch of your brain till they were shattered by the door opening. “I said I wanted to be alone! Why can’t you-” You paused in an instant, your yell silencing in your throat.
There stood Mrs, Iida with a wary look, her hands clutching a small white box. “Hello dear.” The corner of her eyes wrinkled when she smiled, softly closing the door as she walked further into the room. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to..” Her fingers circled around your wrist, silencing you once more. “There’s no need to apologize, I understand this whole…thing can be frightening. I just wish I could’ve changed the outcome.”
You both fell silent, the only sound being the soft rustle of the box being unwrapped by Mrs. Iida. “This was a gift to me on my wedding day, I want you to have it now.” It was a pretty pearl bracelet with a dove charm attached to it. “I added the dove, very fitting for your wedding theme.” She chuckled lightly, sliding your wedding dress right sleeve up to put the bracelet on before giving your wrist a comforting squeeze. “You look stunning, dear. I’m truly sorry that neither of us were given a choice in love.”
For the first time in months, you felt comforted by a mother’s touch, nuzzling your face into her shoulder as you pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.”
“Calm.” Mrs. Iida’s voice was gentle as she held your arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze while you both stood behind a large white door. The soft murmur of conversation filtered through, barely audible. You took a deep breath, but it did little to calm your nerves. Instead, you placed your hand over hers and closed your eyes, waiting for the soft notes of a song to begin. As the doors slowly opened, the chatter faded into silence.
There stood your husband, dressed in a crisp white tuxedo, save for the red tie that matched his eyes, his hands neatly clasped behind him. Since the announcement of your engagement, you had barely spoken to him.
Turbo Hero: Ingenium was finally getting married after years of insisting he wouldn’t settle down while there were still villains to defeat. The media was eager to uncover the identity of his bride, shattering the quiet you once cherished with their flashing cameras and intrusive questions.
Even at your wedding, their cameras flashed as you walked down the aisle strewn with white rose petals. Your gaze remained locked on his, your hand resting on his mother’s trembling slightly, your breath unsteady.
And for some odd reason, when he smiled, you couldn’t help but smile back.
A warm tingle spread from your fingers to your hands and up your arm as Mrs. Iida placed your hand in Tenya’s. His smile remained steady, though yours faltered for just a moment.
“Hello,” he whispered, tilting his head slightly, causing a few strands of dark hair to fall over his eyes. You bowed your head slightly before meeting his gaze again. “Hi.”
The priest cleared his throat and began the ceremony. You found it hard to focus on his words, instead getting lost in the depths of Tenya’s eyes. It wasn’t that you admired his gaze; it was just the only thing that kept you grounded amidst the sea of eyes and flashing cameras.
“Now, Tenya Iida,” the priest began, a jolt of anxiety coursing through you. You had been so absorbed in his eyes that you hadn’t realized the priest was nearing the end of vows. “Do you take this lovely woman to be your bride?”
For a moment, your breath caught in your throat as Tenya’s gaze shifted from yours to the priest and back again. A part of you feared he might say no, and you almost wished he would. “I do,” he finally said, and a wave of emotion washed over you. If it weren’t for his hands holding yours, you might have collapsed.
Now it was your turn to face the priest as he asked you the same question, pausing to await your response. Your heart raced, feeling as if it might burst from your chest. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you opened your mouth, your voice trembling. “...I...I do.”
The priest smiled at you both before continuing. “Then may the Lord’s kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously fulfill His blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder.” He paused, placing a white cloth over your joined hands. “In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss!”
In that moment, you completely forgot about the kiss. So when Tenya lifted your veil and cupped your face, your body froze. The guests erupted in applause and the cameras flashed, capturing the brief, sweet kiss that sealed your vows.
Tenya held your face for a moment longer before releasing you, taking your hands in his as he turned to face the audience, pulling you closer until your back pressed against his chest. The bright lights of the cameras momentarily blinded you, making you blink rapidly as tears spilled down your cheeks. You lowered your head slightly, dabbing at your tears.
Tenya’s hands moved to your waist, leaning down so his lips brushed against your ear. White petals drifting down around you both, and the applause of your guests faded into a distant hum. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Iida.”
it's finally here! i rewrote this chapter so many times y'all.
enjoy this short-ish first chapter!
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Hey its been a while are we gonna get more Jason and Andy and baby character who I’ve forgotten the name of
Much love tho I love your story
Jason and Sophie walked in from the rain. A chime played as they passed the threshold of the small shop and a wave of warm air enveloped them. Soft instrumental music played.
He was holding his baby girl’s hand as she stomped along next to him with big exaggerated strides.
“I like puddles,” she informed him seriously.
“Then I have good news for you about the city we live in, kitten,” he said, and he pulled out a tissue to gently wipe her face. She scrunched up her nose but let him without complaint.
She turned three in one month and was tall for her age. She wore her favourite yellow rain boots, a red tutu and green wool tights under her bright orange rain coat. Curly black hair frizzed out from under a yellow beanie. She was daddy’s favourite little traffic light.
“Good morning,” a lady behind the counter called when they were done. They were the only people there. “How can I help you?”
“It’s mommy’s birthday,” Sophie declared. “We need presents.”
Jason picked her up and put her on his hip. She wrapped one arm around his shoulder and looked at the sales lady.
The woman smiled. “Is it? And what are we getting for mommy today?”
“A flower cup.”
“What are flower cups called, baby?” Jason asked.
Sophie stared back at him, unimpressed.
“A big flower cup.”
He rolled his eyes.
“A vase maybe?” the lady suggested.
Sophie sniffed. “Marlow broke the blue one with his tail.”
“Then right this way, miss, let me show you what we have.”
Jason put her down and she marched with purpose to the clean white shelves with vases and beauty products on them. He told her not to touch any of them until she decided and then wait for him to come and get it.
“She’s a treasure,” the lady said conspiratorially to him.
“Yeah.” He smiled at his daughter. She had stuck one knuckle in her mouth and studied her options seriously.
“Did you have your eyes on anything else?” the lady asked. She casually rearranged her hair.
“You guys have spa packages, right? Massages and skin treatments, all that stuff?”
“Of course,” she said, sliding back behind the counter. “Are you looking for a couples experience or…?”
He shook his head. She leaned forward on the desk and produced a pamphlet and explained their offerings.
He wanted the best, most premium experience for Andy, but by the looks of things that was some kind of clay body wrap thing. She didn’t like the texture of clay masks on her face. She still did them, but it was with dread and resignation every time. This was meant to be relaxing for her, not maintenance, but the kind of pampering she secretly liked but would never buy for herself.
“This one.” He pointed to the menu. “With all the add ons please.”
“She’s a lucky lady.”
“That’s the idea.” His lips turned up in a crooked smile. “I’m the lucky one really.” One weekend’s worth of pampering was nothing compared to the joy she brought to his life. The amount of bs she put up with for him.
The lady cooed. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Not a lot of men put the effort in, you know. You must be an attentive partner.”
His head snapped around to stare at Sophie. She snatched her hand back from a tall glass vase. He narrowed his eyes and she held her hands behind her back and bit her lip.
He turned back to the sales lady. She looked a little disgruntled.
“So that’s the Day Dream Package for your wife. And what can I get for you?”
“It’s not my birthday,” he snorted. And Andy wasn’t his wife.
The lady bit the end of her pen. “Doesn’t mean you can’t want anything.”
He paused. He did want something.
He looked back at his daughter. She was camped in front of the vase she wanted, her arms crossed and her expression a tiny copy of her mother’s. She waited with what looked like patience but was really iron resolve. Once she knew what she wanted she would not be moved until she got it, no matter how long she had to wait.
“Sophie,” he called.
“Yes?”
“I’m going to propose to your mom.”
The lady looked to the heavens.
“Okay,” Sophie said. She pointed. “I want this one.”
“Good choice honey,” he said, and swung her up into his arms. “She’ll love it.”
#sales lady: giggles and bites her lip and twirls her hair around her finger#Jason: 🥰 I love my wife 🥰#jason todd#red hood#jason todd x oc#red hood x oc#my fanfic#dc#fluff#kid fic#dad!jason#thanks nonny!
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I wish you were a boy
Clementine [Oc] x F! reader
Song used
You watched as she got ready, you had somehow managed to convince everyone else to step out giving the bride-to-be a break from the chatter and fuss, you continued watched as she brushed through her strawberry blonde hair, humming a tune she had heard from the radio.
It was her wedding day, a day you honestly hoped would never come but alas her mother arranged her daughter a marriage to the son of some type of business tycoon, you didn't actually know what his father did nor did you read give a shit.
"Are you going to keep staring at me with those eyes of yours or are you going to say something?" She asked breaking the silence,
"I don't like him, you could do better,"
"You haven't even met him yet, he's actually quite the sweetheart,"
"Can you really say that? Clementine, You've only met the man once! What if he's horrid? What if he's-"
"[Name]" the almost sickeningly sweet way she said your name sent shivers down your spine, Oh how you wished you could hear her voice every day for the rest of your existence.
"Good money was spent on this wedding and I wouldn't want to be wasteful," She added as she set down her hairbrush on the vanity, she glanced towards you,
"Won't you be a dear and help me put on my veil?"
You sighed,
"Of course." You got up from your seat and gently picked up her veil, the texture of the lace itchy around your fingers.
As you gently placed it on her head she glanced up at you through the mirror, her eyes holding something you couldn't quite place.
"I wish you were a boy [Name]."
You couldn't say anything to that as balled up hands knocked against the door, voices on the other side asking if she's ready.
You straighted out her veil before she thanked you, getting up from her seat, her dress trailing behind her as she cracked open the door the ladies outside immediately fawning over her appearance her mother held back tears.
You held back tears as well but for much more different reasons.
She likes a boy, she likes a boy
She likes a boy, she likes a boy
You could barely breathe as you watched her leave the room, you could only follow her like a lost puppy.
And I'm not a boy, I'm not a boy
I'm not a b-
You could only watch as she walked down the aisle, escorted by her older brother as her father was long gone.
At 14, Katy talked about teenage dreams
On the bus and she's looking at me
Talking about life and her dog and the boys that she likes
I ask, "Have you got someone in mind?"
Tears threatened to fall as you watched them exchange vows, you watched as a shiny ring was slipped onto her finger, you watched as she grinned up at him before they shared a kiss.
He's at the all-boys school
She says something about liking his height
Suddenly worried about mine
You felt your heart shatter into pieces, the girl you've held feelings for who knew how long now was now kissing someone else, someone who certainly didn't deserve her.
بياخد م��درات
و هوا بيتعلم سواقة
بيقضي وقت معها
And despite knowing that he didn't have a say in this marriage either, you couldn't help but blame him for snatching her away, for being the one who gets to wake up to her face each morning, who gets to hear her beautiful voice each day.
She likes a boy, she likes a boy
She likes a boy, she likes a boy
Only after you watched the car drive away with the cheesey empty cans on strings with 'Newly married' on them ride off into their honeymoon, only after you helped clean up the church they were married in, only after you helped her family bid the wedding guests goodbye.
And I'm not a boy, I'm not a boy
I'm not a boy, I'm not a-
Only after her mother offered to let you spend the night in her old room because it was late and she didn't want you roaming out in the dark since it was unbecoming of lady, It was only after you bid her mother and her siblings a goodnight, did you hide yourself in her room and let the tears run down your eyes as you sobbed into her pillow that still smelled like her.
She likes a boy, she likes a boy
She likes a boy, she likes a boy
You saw her less now that she was married, that was expected after all she was a married woman now, with that pretty ring on her finger that you wished you could've given her instead.
And I'm not a boy, I'm not a boy
I'm not a boy, I'm not a-
Rarely could you call her and she'd pick up, maybe once in awhile she'd invite you over for tea, and you'd watch in silent heartache as he'd waltz by giving her a kiss on her rosy cheeks before scurrying off to work.
Accustomed to making a move
مش ها قدر اشرح
Why I'm feeling the way that I do
أحساس جديد الي
You'd watch with jealousy as they'd exchange "Love you!" And "Stay safe!" Before going their separate ways.
She's half-Greek with a pretty face
Strawberry lip gloss, oh, it's wasted
On this dumb boy who likes the chase
You wished that you were the one pressing light kisses to her face, that you were the one she was exchanging love you's with, that you were the one she shared a bed with at night.
Oh how you despised her husband.
How you despised that he wasn't horrid, that he actually treated her well.
Not as well as you would've but well.
But why am I so angry in the first place?
"[Name], don't you think it's time for you to start looking for a husband?" Her mother asked you one night at dinner, she practically saw you as another one of her daughters and treated you as such.
You nearly choked on your meal, you blinked a few times before looking up at her.
"Pardon? Well uh, I actually have, just haven't had the best of luck with that," you boldly lied to the woman, not catching the look of heartache that flashed through Clementine's hazel eyes.
"I see! Well if you want I could set you up with one of my friend's sons! Or perhaps my Thomas? Lord knows those He'll have trouble finding a wife if I don't help him." She said causing her remaining children to glance amongst themselves at the mention of their eldest brother.
"Ah, No thank you Ma'am, I think I'll try looking for a little longer."
She simply nodded before moving on to the next person, reliving you of the topic.
"Clementine, speaking of marriage you've almost been married for a couple of months now, when will I have grandchildren?" You felt a knot gather in your throat, you didn't dare look up at her.
"Oh! Well hopefully soon, Mama, we're praying that I'm with child by the fall."
Why am I hurting?
ما تفوقي شوية
You shouldn't be surprised by this, of course she'd be trying for a child, she was married! And it was 1925 the perfect time to aquire a child!
She's not your girlfriend
You shouldn't be upset, you didn't have the right to be upset right?
She wasn't your wife, that wasn't even legal in this time.
You'd both be shunned by society but that wouldn't be the worst thing to happen right? As long as you'd have each other?
No, no that was delusion talking.
You knew even if she returned your feelings that she wouldn't leave her family just for you.
After all, you knew what became of the last person that was excommunicated from the family.
You would hate for Clementine to resort to the same measures as that one did.
She likes a boy, she likes a boy
She likes a boy, she likes a boy
You wished you lived in a different world where you wouldn't be shunned, or worse.
You wished she liked you, you wished her husband didn't exist, you wish you two were the only people in the world, you wished..
And I'm not a boy, I'm not a boy
I'm not a boy, I'm not a-
You wished you were a boy.
Maybe then she'd love you, and you could love her back without any shame, that you could shout how much you adored her from the rooftops, that you could pour your heart and soul out to her, that she could be yours, and you could be hers.
Completely and utterly hers.
She likes a boy, she likes a boy
She likes a boy, she likes a boy
You hated how tightly she held a grip onto your heart, you hated how you'd give up everything for her if she just asked.
And I'm not a boy, I'm not a boy
I'm not a boy, I'm not a boy
And yet you didn't mind as much as you should've.
Mm, boy
I'm not a boy
Your hands tighten onto the bottom of an umbrella as you stood outside her mother's house, watching as he opened the car door for her, being careful to not let her get wet.
Your heart ached as you watched them drive away like you did the day they were wed.
You wished you could tell her that you loved her.
You're glad that at least he can tell her that he does.
Mm, boy
Fuck that guy
Good evenin' folks! I'm a little anxious to post this since it is my first OC x reader and an OC I haven't even introduced! There will be a little spin off to this fic from Clementine's pov, there's so much more to her then I've written here! Fun fact she is related to one of my OCs that I have introduced! Guess which one!
I have so much lore about her and her siblings, about their lives and their deaths, all intertwined.
I haven't drawn Clementine yet but I will soon! Once I find my pen, it got lost.
Again.
Anyways I do hope you enjoyed! As always thank you for tunin' on in, I hope you have a wonderful night!
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Son of War, Daughter of Death (chapter 1)
(TW: in general, war, violence, death, maybe nsfw parts. also this is my take on the new timeline with minor tweaks.)
The night was long and cold as the first cold front moved in that morning, the clear sky a sign that the night will be frigid as she left her back door open. Heather had a rough day trying to get her homework caught up and to also get used to her new schedule of staying late into the night. She was transferred to a new position that would trudge her through the night, but at least she would stay home to work. She finally rubbed her eyes caught up on her work from two weeks ago as she decided to just lay down for the night since she still had three or four days left to adjust to staying up later and sleeping in later. She closed her back door, not locking it so her dog could go outside whenever he wanted to and not wake her up. She never had a random animal wander in except for the local stray cat who wanted to get out of the outdoors for a bit. She looked at the available pajamas she had for a cold night, only seeing her old Christmas set, grabbing them to change into something comfortable for bed. She pulled back her bedding and slipped under the top cover, and she settled finding herself in dreamland.
She has been dreaming the same thing on occasion for months in the same forest. It looked peaceful with whispers throughout the forest. Despite its peacefulness, it felt eerie like those old Halloween screensavers with random ghosts popping up and going away. The whispers beckoned her to go deeper into the forest, she followed the whispers before stepping on an object. Looking down, she noticed her barefoot had stepped on a dagger with a slight curve in the blade.
She looked around and found a man laying unconscious at the foot of the tree the whispers are coming from. His face marked with something akin to war paint and his hair had a high undercut. He looked like he was a background actor from Mad Max or some other post-apocalyptic fantasy movie with a squared jaw and his build was strong but nothing like the photoshopped Hollywood she was used to seeing. She gently got to his level and tried to see if he was alive or dead, the first time she had made it this far before she was forced awake.
Heather saw he had an old and oozing stab to the gut. She gently cleaned and bandaged his wound, humming mindlessly, checking on occasion to see he was breathing. Her hands pulled away before her hands were snatched by his massive hands making her gaze snap up to him. He looked angry, confused, and in pain but it was the color of his eyes that captivated her the most. They were pale blue, unsettlingly beautiful as she could not help but stare. His face softened seeing the color in her round face redden and the tension in her arm started to slack in his forceful embrace.
“Who are you woman?” His graveled, rough voice asked.
Her small pout lips were in the act of saying her name before she suddenly wakes up to the sound of her alarm ringing through the air. “Shit I’m going to be late it’s 7:30!” Heather said he snapped and jumped out of bed and quickly texted her mom a good morning before getting ready to prepare her mom for a doctor’s appointment.
Meanwhile, He got up as soon as she disappeared. She was no ghost; he felt her hands on his skin and the sensation still burned in his memory giving him a chill through him. It left him with a distracted pause rousing from his injuries dark as a murky lake before deciding now a good a time as any to get up before he is caught on his ass. He felt sore and gritted his teeth as he used the tree, he laid against to work his way up. Feeling the stabbing pain, he looked down as he saw the bandage he poked at it feeling the rough pseudo-fabric texture and for a moment he wanted to get it off, but seeing the blood already starting to seep through the covering, deciding it would be better to not dare remove it. He worked his way back up from the ground seeing his general using the tree as a brace. He growled a bit in pain, his joints popping as he rolled his shoulder back into place. General Shao looked near to where his lieutenant was seeing the corpse of the assassin who escaped his execution and thought it was a great idea to try to lose them in the living forest and wait out it.
“Men, get that body readied as proof to the Empress her would-be assassin is taken care of.” The general commanded, making the men salute him before grabbing the body and proceeding to remove his head, no need to bring the whole body back when his head would do.
“Reiko, you’re wounded.” He said lowly standing next to him.
“Bastard hid a dagger on him, he wasn’t expecting I had one as well.” Reiko said hiding the pain that throbbed through him.
“You need it closed. Who was the woman who covered the wound?”
“I never got a name; she disappeared when I woke up.”
“How is an earthrelmer who was not escorted by the gods in outworld? We need to assure ourselves she is not a part of the smugglers for Shang Tsung and Quan Chi. We need to speak about this with the Empress and with Liu Kang.” Shao growled.
Reiko now has his current mission to find out who saved him and what her game was, how she can just pop in and out between realms and why he feels hot thinking of her.
Since Titian Havik attacked the realms, Outworld and Earthrelm had to keep an uneasy peace finding Shang Tsung and Quan Chi have been seen with smuggled items from Earthrelm. The defenders found two factions that have been working with the two for an unknown reason as of now which is applying more pressure on their truce, more so since Titian Havik caused a major rift in the royal house.
Zeffero barely skated by the skin of his teeth for the sake of his mother, but others were executed for their involvement. The queen was not dumb and knew her own court was defecting, in private she asked of Shao and his lieutenant to spy on her betrayers as detractors as well to see who exactly was behind her daughter’s infection and the fractioning of outworld which was blamed on the infected Outworlders who are now calling themselves Tarkanians; naming themselves after the disease that was artificially created by the power hungry sorcerer it was later found out.
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OC Bio: Percy Jackson and the Olympians
Name: Sotiria
Name Meaning: Sotiria: “Sotirios (Greek: Σωτήριος) or Sotiris (Σωτήρης) is a male given name of Greek origin, meaning "salvation" (σωτηρία, σωτήριος). Sotiria (Σωτηρία) is the female version of the name.”
Nickname(s): Soso, Tia, Tiria, Water Witch
Alias(es): Demigoddess of the Sea, Daughter of Poseidon, Daughter of Medusa
Occupation: Demigoddess, Camp Member
Alignment: Chaotic Good
Gender: Female
Sexuality:
Age/Birthday: 16 (physically), ~2300 (chronologically)
Height: 5’5”
Hair Color/Type/Length: Dark Brown/Curly/Upper Back
Eye Color: Green (Blue)
Body Markings:
Family: Medusa (Mother), Poseidon (Father), Percy Jackson (Half-Brother), Zeus (Uncle), Hades (Uncle), Stheno (Aunt), Euryale (Aunt), several other half-siblings
Love Interest(s):
Birthplace: Ancient Greece
Languages: Ancient Greek, English (eventually)
Skills/Powers: Battle skills, Hydrokinesis, Healing, various water-related abilities, temporary petrification
Likes:
Dislikes: her dad, her mom
Catchphrase: “I don’t care about my dad.”
Backstory: (TW: SA) After Poseidon had taken advantage of Medusa, one of Athena’s priestesses, within Athena’s sacred temple. Athena had cursed Medusa with hair of snakes and ruined her beauty. Unbeknownst to Athena, Medusa was pregnant with Poseidon’s child from this encounter. Some months later, a gorgeous baby girl was born, untouched by Athena’s curse.
Sotiria was raised by Medusa, but felt no love from her. Her mother despised her because of her father, but there were times she truly cared for her. She was typically cold and distant, which Sotiria noticed.
On the other hand, Poseidon loved her. Unfortunately, Sotiria did not feel the same. He bestowed great power upon her and she took it without thanks. But he was still the man who hurt her mother and created this unfulfilling life for her. He was always amazed by her beauty and resemblance to Medusa, which was another reason her mother grew more bitter towards her. Sotiria consistently rejected her father’s efforts to join him and rule the sea.
After some years, Sotiria still demonstrated her strong abilities from the sea god and growing beauty as she matured, and Medusa grew more jealous and resentful of her daughter. Although she had some motherly love for her, she couldn’t bare to see her daughter live a prosperous life, even if she was miserable lacking the love she ought to receive.
Medusa told her daughter how beautiful she was one day and once Sotiria gently smiled at thanked her, Medusa looked her in the eyes and turned her to stone. Sotiria was frozen in a beautiful pose, standing tall with a soft smile and books held in one arm, curly hair cascading down past her shoulders.
The Gorgon took great care of her daughter’s stone statue, keeping it with her for years to come until she opened Auntie Em’s Garden Emporium. Sotiria stood front and center, surrounded by a pool of water and holding fresh flowers where her books would have been. Years went by and fate caused Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and Grover Underwood to visit.
Percy was oddly drawn to this statue, but shook the feeling as he went to search for the pearls that would aid his escape from the Underworld. It was a shock to the three when they realized Medusa was the owner of this garden shop, but Percy beheaded her with the help of his friends and they finally had a moment to think. It was then that Annabeth realized who this statue depicted—or rather, who it was.
Percy was shocked to learn he was looking at his long lost sister and as he approached the pool of water with coins that had sunk to the bottom. His hands waded in the water as he processed this information, not noticing the water rising up the stone dress and turning it back to its soft texture. As the water kept rising, Sotiria was revived and took a breath as the rest of her body was returned to its natural form. The three stood in awe as she took in her surroundings and began shouting in Greek, and while Annabeth began to explain in Greek, Sotiria was hit with a wave of power that granted her knowledge of their language and strength from her powers.
Grover helped her down as she grasped the reality that she had been turned to stone by her mother, missed the past 23 centuries, she had a half-brother standing in front of her, and he’d just killed Medusa. He explained to her that he was just as resentful towards their father and he expressed that he was sorry for her troubling situation. Sotiria decided she owed him a debt for saving her from her stone cage and would join him on their mission if they were okay with it. Annabeth was hesitant at first due to her lineage, but put it aside and agreed to let Sotiria join them. Percy felt less alone with his sister by their side.
Faceclaim: Ryan Whitney
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The Adult Baby Adoption Part 2
(This story is complete fiction and although i may desperately wish it isn’t, there is no fact or real world experience behind this story, and themes reflected in the story may be triggering, these themes are not my actual beliefs and are only part of a fantasy kink scenario. Also non of the images belong to me)
Eventually the moment i dreaded came, the elevator finally reached ground floor and with a “Ding” the doors would open into the now bustling lobby. No matter how much i tried to pull back against daddy his strength just embarrassed me more as i failed to resist him pulling me by the hand out into the lobby. “Oh my god Mr Carmichael! Is that the guy who came in earlier? Is that ‘baby’?” The very same doorman who had granted me access said trying to hold back laughter as i turned a deep shade of red and hung my head.
“Of course not! This is my newly adopted daughter! This Weak, Defenceless, Helpless and Cute Little Girl is Jade Carmichael. Also that reminds me Doorman! I want Jades face on the watch list for the building, if jade is caught trying to enter or exit the building i want you to handcuff her, call me immediately and while you wait for me you must make her pray for forgiveness till i arrive. I don’t expect she’ll try to run away but measures have to be put in place just in case” Daddy said to the doorman who insisted on taking a picture of me for the doorman notice board. Once that was done, daddy would ask them to retrieve his car. While we waited daddy took me over too a couch in the lobby where he sat me down and from his bag pulled out a banana.
Sitting down next to me daddy would peel the banana 🍌 before handing it to me. “Can’t have you going hungry till we reach the event Princess, eat up now” daddy encouraged as i looked at the banana nervously, then looking daddy in the eyes i said “I… I… I can’t daddy…. I told the agency I… I don’t like bananas” to which daddy replied, “exactly but your not allergic to them which means you’ve made the childish and unfounded decision that you don’t like them. Well thats going to change, so eat up Jade. Growing girls like you need the potassium!”. Looking at the banana, i felt sick, i’d always hated the mushy texture of bananas but I couldn’t defy daddy now, lord knows I couldn’t handle the embarrassment of public punishment. So i took the phallic fruit in my mouth and began to eat, each bite made me wrench and dry heave and my eyes watered trying to eat the disgusting fruit not helped by daddy insisting i finish the entire banana. Finally though it was finished and daddy smiled as he said “see! That wasn’t so bad? But its ok, since your having a minimum of 1 a day from now on you’ll grow to love them!” As embarrassment and discomfort rippled through me i cuddled Angel in my left arm as daddy then took my right.
“Your car is right out front Mr C, safe drive sir” the doorman said to daddy as he and I stood up and headed to the door. Being led by this big man out into the street I couldn’t help but wonder how different things could have been had i paid more attention on that paperwork, could i be sat on some big titted mommy dom’s lap in a diapered dressed as her little boy and playing video games? How different things could have been!. Stepping outside, there to greet us by the roadside sat a beautiful pastel grey Bentley Mulliner Batur. “Oh my god daddy is that yours!? A Bentley Mulliner Batur! Beneath its gleaming bonnet lies the most powerful expression ever of the 6.0 litre, twin-turbocharged Bentley W12 engine. Thats a 710 horsepower car! The fastest i’ve ever driven is 280 horsepower!!! Just how rich are you!!” At that daddy said one of the most demeaning things to me possible. “Jade, first of all don’t take the lords name in vain like that! Secondly, your a little girl! Little girls don’t like or know anything about cars ok princess! Your little girly brain should be more interested in pretty dresses and makeup than cars. So to teach you not to talk about cars from now on you’ll be spanked for showing or expressing knowledge on them. Also you can’t have driven a car as fast as you say, because little girls like you can’t drive. Finally, how much money daddy has should only be your concern when your thanking me for buying you more pretty dresses.” As he proceeded to reach with his free hand for the passenger door handle. How humiliating, to be told i cant like cars because i’m a little girl, to be gender stereotyped for a gender that i’m not and told what my interests should be🥵 unbelievably humiliating.
Opening the passenger door however would reveal something even worse… sat ok the passenger seat was a pink specifically designed seat harness! On the bottom was a padded cushion with a triangular wedge and several straps then on the back there was a wrap around head rest just big enough for my head with 2 chunky cushions on either side and a strap and finally there was a thick harness to hold my chest. Looking at daddy i whimpered “please no daddy, this is to embarrassing! Im a grown up i don’t need a car seat!” But daddy simply laughed as he pushed and manoeuvred me into position. Sitting on the padded cushion, the triangle wedge was between my legs and pushed the skirt of my dress and jacket up, then would guide my arms through the arm holes of the harness before closing it and strapping it tightly so i couldn’t sit forward or move too much from side too side. Then from the cushion a strap was clipped across the top of my knees stopping my upper thighs from moving, finally daddy would run a strap across my forehead keeping my head pinned back against the headrest and sandwiched between the two big cushions. The whole time i whimpered and moaned until i was sat with only my arms able to move freely, my gaze was now forcefully stuck looking forward and because of the big cushions at either side of my head my peripheral vision was obscure. Placing angel back in my arms daddy shut the door and walked around the car before getting in the drivers side and starting the car, as the car started there was an exhilarating growl from the engine to which daddy would infantilise me more by reaching over and holding my right hand while saying “sshh sshh sshh baby girl its ok, the big car isn’t a monster! Daddy will protect you, i know you don’t understand but this is a Mans car! Now lets get to church, can’t keep god and the rest of the flock waiting!” He said with a smile that i could just barely see.
Taking back his hand i clung tightly too Angel as daddy put the car into gear and pulled out into the street, how humiliating! Ever single traffic light from the penthouse building too the church would turn red in us forcing us too stop. Each time we did my cheeks grew redder as people stared, pointed, laughed and teased me from other cars, passing on the sidewalk and more. Finally after a 45 minute car journey we would arrive at a huge Church with a massive ornate Jesus Christ on the cross suspended from the front above the doors. Pulling into the carpark in front, Daddy pulled into a space before turning off the engine and proceeding to release the straps over my head and knees then getting out he’d come round too my side where he would release my torso from the tight and uncomfortable harness and helped me out of the car. Finally we began our approach to the front doors, looking around the car park i was in shock as I spotted Super cars and Expensive cars filling the car park, Bugatti’s, Lamborghini’s, Lotus’s, Maserati’s and more, slowly i began to wonder what the fuck kinda church and delegation this was!!. I also thought about running but daddy had a tight grasp of my hand, however just as we reach the bottom on the steps into the church pressure on my bladder suddenly began building and before i could think i began whimper “i need to pee, please take this thing off me so i can go pee!” I begged daddy however he simply stopped us at the bottom of the stairs and said “pee yourself now Jade! Thats why your in pullups! Stop thinking like an adult, forget about toilets! Your arse will never touch a toilet seat again so act like the weak little baby you are and piss yourself now!” He said sternly as I stood with my knees turned into each other, cuddling angel and looking at him with bright red cheeks and watering eyes…. Hearing that I…. I let go, within seconds warm liquid flooded my diapered crotch and a wave of shame flooded over me. However daddy was leaving no time too stew in my shame for as soon as I finished he then dragged me up the stairs and into the church.
Entering into the reception, daddy smile and gave a friendly greeting too the church receptionist who completely ignored me as she said too daddy “everyones in the main atrium Ulysses, have a blessed day!” To which daddy smiled as he then led me through into a huge wide open space, the wall decorated with christianic symbols and doctrines, the pews had been move too the outsides of the room and in the middle was a huge circular kids play pen with 4 foot tall child barriers, inside there were about 40 men and women of varying physical age all dressed as adult babies of varying age, some were sitting so heavily restrained in their diapers and baby clothes that they could barely move while others sat and crawled around acting the age they were dressed as. Outside the play pen were tables all spread out with the “grown ups” sat drinking wine and talking. As we entered daddy would be approached by a beautiful brown skinned, Black Haired and browned eyed woman in a long black dress which looked very reminiscent if pastoral robes. “Ahhh Reverand Imelda, I hope we’re not too late!” Daddy said with a radiant smile as the Woman gave him a hug before stepping back and said “oh nonsense Ulysses! Your right on time! And pray tell, who is our newest follower of god?” Reverend Imelda said looking at me with a smile. Wiggling my hand which he still had a tight grip on daddy said, “go on baby, don’t be rude! Your pastor asked you a question” nervously i tried my best to soften my voice and said “my name is Jam….I mean Jade Carmichael Miss” which turned my cheeks a bright scarlet with humiliation. Pinching my cheek the Reverend would look at daddy as she said “well isn’t she just adorable! Well you can leave her in the play pen with all the other babies and grab a coffee and some muffins.”
Pulling my face away from the stranger pastors grip daddy would speak for me saying, “Oh absolutely, jade will be going in the play pen. But Reverend Imelda? You don’t have any of those deportment aids for difficult babies handy do you? Jade here hasn’t quite learned to listen to and behave for adults yet” looking at him my eyes widened and I opened my mouth to speak only too have daddy shush me. This was mortifying, being spoken about and too like a dumb child. However as daddy said “deportment aids” and mentioned my unruliness I instantly knew trouble was on its way. “Oh of course Ulysses! I’ll go grab them, get baby’s jacket off while im away so she’s ready” the Reverend cooed as she quickly scurried off past daddy. As daddy unlocked the padlock on my jacket zipper he removed angel from my arms and began to remove my humiliating pink jacket to expose my juvenile and hyper feminine state of dress. “Daddy! Please dont make me wear anything more humiliating! I don’t want those Aid thingys!” I moaned and groaned as daddy completely removed my jacket. At that the reverend appeared with 2 pink fluffy on the inside cuffs connected by a 30 cm link for my ankles and another two exactly the same for my wrists as well as a ring gag designed to look like big red lips.
Before I could protest at all the reverend shoved the ring gag into my mouth making it a gaping hole surrounded by pathetic Pvc Puffy faggot fake lips. Whimpering, i was manhandled into the wrist and ankle cuffs, the ankle cuffs going over my pink sparkly ugg boots i tried to beg for freedom or even just beg to be able to touch myself but i was ignored as the links which linked both ankle cuffs and both wrist cuffs were then connected by another link making it nearly impossible to walk, crawl or squirm to much. Stood unable to separate my legs further an 30cm’s i hung my head In absolute shame as i tried desperately to stop myself feeling turned on as my desperate to be touched penis was painfully smothered in its cage. Then from behind daddy scooped me up bridal style and once in his arms, helpless, dressed like a pussy and restrained I couldn’t help but shoot pathetic caged sissy stickies into my diaper and blush with embarrassment.
Kissing my cheek, Daddy said “now remember and play nice with the other babies! Daddy expects you to behave like a proper lady!” As i looked down at myself, pink lolita style shin length pathetic dress, white shiny leggings and my Sparkly pink ugg boots… god i looked pathetic. Carrying me into the play pen, daddy lay me on my back on a fluffy pink blanket covered in love hearts and surrounded by dollies, then taking angel with him i watched daddy go and take a see at a table and begun talking to some people who looked like acquaintances as the reverend close over the 5ft tall play pen fence. Looking around i was in shock at this place, what kinda church was this? Why were there so many of them who had adult babies? Looking around the pen there were some adult older than me being regressed, some younger, some were extremely femininely dressed, some were extremely masculinely dress, some were lightly bound, others were heavily restrained, some were actively acting like babies and others were desperate to be grown up. However no matter how hard i looked around i could not find another male being forced to be a female baby although i did spot a very attractive female who was clearly being forced to be a male baby. Watching her she was clearly like me and had not planned for this, the poor admittedly very attractive girl with a beautifully feminine face had had her hair shaven right down to a buzz cut, gave her a fake 5 o’clock shadow to look like she had facial hair and dressed her in a full length dark blue romper that looked like a Baseball player which had an open crotch to reveal her Dinosaur diapers, on her arms temporary tattoos of Baseball’s race-cars and dinosaurs, her arm hair has been died a darker colour to make it more obvious, the poor girl had been wheeled into the play pen in a blue Stroller which which restrained her ankles, wrists and torso. She looked so embarrassed, uncomfortable and down right jealous of all the baby girls in the play pen.
However my focus would suddenly snap back to my close surroundings as a man who looked to be in his thirties began crawling over too me. The man had the most childish looking dark blue sailor outfit on, his shorts were very obviously home too more than one puffy diaper and on his head was a matching little sailors hat. Slowly i began to panic and shuffle a little as the man crawled over hand gently brushed my long pink wig away from my face as he and began to speak, “hewwo Butifful, I weally wikes youw dwess. You vewy pwetty giwl~” at which I panicked more and with my gaping faggot lips ring gag in tried to tell him i was a man! “Mommy tolds me I cants touch my peepee for pweasuwe! I fink you vewy pwetty and i fink yous a giwl so yous needs to hewp me makes stickies in my diapees… I’m so fuckin horny man and that woman wont let me touch myself!!!! So i honestly don’t care whats in your diapers dude when you look this much like a girl! Shut up and let me do humpies on you and make out a little…. I gotta cum!!!” He said suddenly dropping the babish talk. Panic and pure disgust set in as i began violently trying to pull my hands further from my ankles and against the restraints to escape.
However at that the man would straddle my pelvis as he knelt with a knee either side of my crotch. Planting one hand around my throat, tears filled my eyes and my cheeks turned scarlett as he then lowered his crotch onto my hands which where restrained just above my crotch. “Rub my crotch with your pretty little hands princess as i hump!!” The man demanded as he began then to rub himself up and down against my hands, dress and diaper. What could i do!? I tried and tried to push him off but he simply tightened his grip on my throat and humped harder, the harder he smashed his crotch into me the sorer it felt as he crushed my caged penis and balls!. After a few moments he would begin groping my chest while shoving his tongue into the gag and making out with the big fake faggot lips of the gag. Gradually he began moaning and whispering for his mommy’s approval, all the while tears flooded down my face from pain and embarrassment as he look me dead in the eyes the moment he hit his diaper orgasm using me like his sex doll. With that he let go of my throat and stopped groping my chest, sitting upright he sat crushing my hands into my caged crotch and looked at me as he said “ohhhhhh god yes that it, stickies in diapees! Thats what we’re here for!!” With a fatigued giggle.
By this point i was sobbing so hard with pain and embarrassment i could barely see him however he would lean in and say, “boy or not, i think I’ll tell mommy I want you as my girlfriend! Then hopefully she’ll talk to your daddy and arrange more playdates like this one!” He teased before spitting into my wide open mouth and saying “welcome to the life of this fucking adult baby parents cult faggot! Thanks for the orgasm!! Mmmmmmmmmwahhh” he said kissing my forehead before crawling off into the crowd of other Adult baby’s. The embarrassment, demoralisation and pure disgust was overpowering and too such a point I would let out a scream of pure rage as tears flooded my eyes and ran down my cheeks. Finally daddy would appear, picking me up he would carry me bridal style back to his table of associates, “apologies folks, you know kids. I better see whats wrong with her” daddy said sitting me on his lap as he sat down and i was surrounded by these strangers who watched as tears rolled down my face.
Unbuckling the gag, daddy would remove the gaping red fake lips from my mouth finally allowing me too close my mouth. Looking at me daddy would stroke my cheek as he said “now then Jade, what were you making such a fuss about?”. To which i sniffled and replied, “that man in the sailor outfit was humping me and hurt my penis by smashing his crotch into mine, i tried to beg him to stop and push him off but he just kept going, groping my chest and sticking his tongue down my throat.” I explained hoping perhaps daddy would get over protective or even tell me he was upset i felt uncomfortable….. but no…. Instead daddy would proceed too humiliate, degrade, belittle and insult me as he proceeded to speak.
“Well first of all Jade. Your a girl, you dont have a penis! Second…. Thats great news!! Your first day out and your feminine and dainty little girl looks have attracted a boyfriend!!! You need to understand, as a pathetic baby girl, you should be happy and honoured that the baby boy found you so attractive that he humped you! In future though, if your going to fit in at this church you need to learn that little girls like you shouldn’t he saying ‘no’ too a boy. If a little boy wants too do something too or with you, as the superior little baby sex, you must do as they say. Remember what i said about cars ? This is the same thing, fill your mind with pretty colours, dresses, makeup, princesses, impressing boys etc!” Daddy said, I couldn’t believe what i’d just heard. What the hell kinda church was this? Who the hell were these archaic minded people! At a complete loss for words i looked at daddy in total shock.
Chuckling to himself daddy then wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into his chest, with still my wrists and ankles restrained i could do nothing but cuddle daddy as he rocked me back and forth. Then after about 5 minutes he would resume his adult conversations with his associates as though I weren’t on his lap cuddled into him. Before i knew it…. I had drifted into a peaceful nap in his arms like some kind of magic had taken hold. What would the rest of this horrendously embarrassing day bring 🥵
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Genshin character Judgement after all these years of playing. I will judge looks, personality, and say my favorite voice! Now with 5-stars, alphabetical order PART 2.
(under the cut)
Definitely a a better looks than Ganyus... Cloud Retainer whats going on with you that your daughters are dressed this way tho... BUT. I love Shenhe. Her story was so good... her song still makes me cry. Its a shame she doesnt exist anymore LMAO.
Her CN and KR voices are best IMO. I dont mind her EN tho.
Cute design but I wish she was a regular Melusine. ALSO HYV sure has the nerve to do a 'RACISM BAD' storyline with her but still fucking refuse to add a playable character with dark skin or a different hair texture... especially in NATLAN which is based on the precolonial Americas and Africa... ITS A CHOICE. Really the only time we see darker skin characters with locs are ENEMIES. Fuck off. Sigewinne this isnt your fault baby close your eyes.
I dont like her EN VA at all but the rest are very cute.
King dripless. My god. Also he was WAAAAY to easily forgiven for what he did... But his personality is fun so I cant hate him.
His EN voice too is kinda goofy... but his other VAs have sexy voices. So good for them.
UGH.
UGHHH His EN VA got replaced because the old one was a creep but they replaced him with such a generic voice it kinda sucked. LMAO. Not as bad as his JP voice tho... why does he sound 12?
Venti my boy. It took me awhile to warm up to Venti but I like him a lot now. I WILL SAY... there a quite a few people who will tear down Zhongli for him and I hate them. To mischaracterize Zhongli to make Venti look better is crazy... for what? VenXiao? Its a choice. Its not Zhonglis fault hes got a better relationship with Xiao... also if Zhongli got people drunk without their consent or brushed aside Barbaras stalkers youd ring his neck.
THAT ALL SAID. Ventis fun. Good guy mostly. Im fairly certain he'll have a 2nd story come Natlan considering his connections to Vanessa.
I dont mind any of his VAs.
Biggest glow up in Genshin history. I kinda dont like that he deleted his misdeeds from the history of the world... BUT.... hes getting better and hes putting in effort to be better so I got over it. He was really great in this Summer event. Wish he wasnt fuckin BLUE tho. Ya know now that I think about how Scara deleted himself from the GI memory I guess thats why Nahida has a digital vibe.. I guess the tree IS like a computer... (I still think its weird) Also I named MY wanderer Galilei! To go with the Bohemian Rapsody theming hes got... also I chose Galilei over Galileo cuz 'Lil Ei' since hes one of Eis puppets. IM SO FUCKING GOOD.
I like his CN voice the best.... WHYD JP GO WITH THAT VOICE THATS SO FUNNY. WTF
Hot. There was a concept design where he had darker skin and an eyepatch... we coulda had it all. But he still looks great. WHAT WAS WITH HIS PAST THO!? WHY IS FONTAINE SO FUCKED UP IDK. ALSO WHY WOULD HE BE GUILTY OF KILLING HIS CHILD MURDERING FOSTER PARENTS?! WTF IS WRONG WITH FONTAINE!? LYNETTE GOT FUCKING SOLD TO SOME CREEPS! THEY ALSO LOCKED UP A PREGNANT WOMAN WHO GAVE BIRTH IN THEIR AND DIED AND WE HAD TO REUNITE THE GRANDDAUGHTER WITH HER GRANDFATHER AND I ONLY JUST REALIZED RIGHT BEFORE AND WAS LIKE 'WAIT A MINUTE IS THIS THAT RANDOM NPCS GRANDDAUGHTER!? IS THE REASON SHE NEVER WROTE HIM BACK CUZ SHE FUCKING DIED?!' and thats exactly what happened. HUGE fridge horror moment for me right before it was revealed in game. LMAO..... .... anyways.
No complaints on the VAs.
MAN I remember seeing her design leaked and being... just infatuated. Shes a rare W vs her concept design which gave her like bellbottoms and I was scared for a moment that THAT might be the design they went with BUT NO! We got THIS. Beautiful. Her personality is also SO fucking cute. Shes so cute. I love that she acts tough until someone is nice to her and she gets all flustered.... Shenhe saying she thought of her and Xianyun being all touched about it... ;w;... But also her badly haggling was so funny and she was cool with that one dude being kinda rude to HER but the minute he doubted Zhongli she got so mad in his defense... Shes so cute... I love her.
EN VA clears. I think she does the best illustrating Xianyuns personality.
My mans Xiao... I thought I wouldnt like him since Im not fond of tsundere characters but hes a good boy. Also hes a Zhongli stan so how can I NOT love him. His quest in the Chasm was particularly good... ;w; the way I cried when Paimon shouted 'XIAO!!!!' LMAO.. that hurt my feelings even though I knew HYV didnt have the balls to kill him.
I think his EN VA sound SUPER petulant mostly but the deranged way he says USELESS and DISAPPEAR!!!! makes me laugh so I dont actually mind it... that said the others all clear him.
I dont like Yae as much as I thought I would when I first saw the Inazuma cast leak... but I still like her and her relationship with Ei (and Gorou) but im not that attached.... like I guess thats sorta how I feel for more of the Inazuma cast TBH.
JP voice clears... I am not immune to ARA ARA
Yelans outfit is so fucking GOOFY. Shes pretty tho... just wish she had better clothes.... Her character is great too but shes probably one of the characters Im LEAST invested in Liyue.
Her EN voice is sexy as hell.
MY FAVORITE INAZUMA GIRL!! The babiest. I love her so much. Shes so damn cute and lovely and her quest with the Aranara was weird... but adorable and I love her. Shes the only bow DPS I even TRIED to pull for. They could never make me hate you Yoimiya!!! Ive loved her from the minute I saw her on the leaked Inazuma cast lineup.
I like her JP voice the best~
AH. Finally... the TRUE BABYGIRLEST. My handsome dad, my beautiful son, MY BEAUTIFUL SUN, MY PRINCESS... MY QUEEN. I love Zhongli so much... I can never leave Genshin no matter how annoyed I get with it because this demon right here. Hes got me by the heartstrings. Like with Navia (GEO STAY WINNING) I know when hes got a part in a story they just cant fuck it up. Hes also dripped out to hell. I hope SOMEDAY we actually get a story about YOU instead of random history... not that I havent enjoyed the blasts from the past (especially Azhdaha my second favorite character) but like... WHAT ABOUT YOU SPECIFICALLY TELL ME....
I love all of Zhonglis VAs. I like EN and CN the best tho.
---
Again with Natlan I dont know the star rating Im just guessing.
Pretty my guaranteed 5-star... I liked her design a lot more before it was pointed out that her zipper goes all the way up her ass... now her outfit is kinda gross. Also nothing about it really reads like the cultures Natlan takes from so similar to Nahida... Im kinda disappointed. Shed also look better with at least a tan...
Im so surprised people on Twit are obsessed with this design... its so fuckin boring... her animations are super cute tho.
I guess its fine. Like with Nahida... i dont like the weird digital-ness of him. The color palate is pretty great tho. (hed look better with a darker skin tone tho)
Shes so damn hot. A rare W from the Natlan cast. She'd look better with a darker skin tone tho.
UGH.
Capitano.... please... Please look good by the end of your story. I have such a sinking feeling youre Ororon... Please dont be. Id be so disappointed. Hasnt Natlan done enough to disappoint me.... I know you wont be playable if youre the spooky faceless monster I want but at least dont be fucking boring... PLEASE.
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not sure what mood you're into or what your tastes are outside of gordon lightfoot, so here are three that i've been rotating in my mind like a rotisserie chicken in one of those glass boxes in the supermarket, with little writeups for your entertainment: 1) Pulaski at Night, Andrew Bird: i love a plucked violin. it always sounds just slightly Wrong in a way that scratches my brain just right. i love the love in this song, the efforts, the beauty, the lonliness—and i love that it mentions chicago. I love a song that takes place in, well, a place, that longs for somewhere physical. This song is in my ears, but it wants to go back to Chicago! if I ever go there, I'll have to play it, to bring it with me, to bring it home. I also love when andrew bird whistles. Fate did right, naming that fella "bird." His whole discography is kind of hit after hit, for me. 2) Holy Branches, Radical Face: I think this song will make you think of Matty. The singer's voice is curious, very soft, but textured. His lyrics are remarkable to me:
There's a hole in your chest From the time that you were born One that don't get filled Cause you've always known you're nothing they want But everybody's bones are just holy branches Cast from trees to cut patterns in the world
3) Better Son/Daughter: Rilo Kiley The first time I heard this song I had to listen to it on repeat for a while. It utilizes musical shifts in a really powerful way, the way the singers voice comes in tinny at first, and then blasts, its my ultimate "button up your overcoat kid, you've got this" song. its possible none of these songs will hit for you, but thanks for reading anyway, and good luck!
God i fucken love when people tell me why they recommend a song thank you anon these SLAP
OH FUCK YES. I'm something of a Andrew Bird girlie but I haven't heard this one in a long time and it makes me want to resurrect an old fic I had set in 1930s chicago ahhhhhhhhh.
Radical Face always SO fucken good. I've never added a song to the Mattie playlist so fast fuck. that one just hits SO good. fuck.
Better Son/Daughter: Rilo Kiley..... thats a song that makes you want to get up in the morning. God there's really nothing like a good snare drum to say 'hang on, you'll get through the shit you're shoveling."
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CRATER LOVE HATH NO MAN
Opening in theaters today:
Asteroid City--In Golden Age of Television black and white, a stentorian TV host (Bryan Cranston) tells us that we're about to see a documentary about the writing and staging of a new play. The drama in question is titled Asteroid City, and it's set in a tiny desert community near the impact crater from an ancient meteorite. It's the Cold War mid-'50s in this, Wes Anderson's latest; mushroom clouds blossom in the distance from the occasional nuclear bomb test.
Soon we shift to color, and to a stylized milieu that looks like Midcentury travel-poster art of the southwest. A large roster of characters assembles in Asteroid City, many of them for the convention of the Junior Stargazers, an organization of youthful science prodigies and inventors.
At the center of this ensemble, insofar as it has a center, is a bereaved young photographer (Jason Schwartzman) who hasn't yet broken the news to his kids that their mother has passed on; he's one cabin over from a movie star (Scarlett Johansson) with whom he bonds, as do his son and her daughter. Along with these familial tensions, the gathering sees military intrigues, scientific experiments, quarantine and even alien close encounters.
I really wish I liked this movie better than I did. Anderson is a one-of-a-kind comedic artist, and his 1998 Rushmore is one of my favorite films of the last thirty years. His debut feature Bottle Rocket is a gem as well. Most of his subsequent films have been brilliant but uneven; the best of them, like The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou and Moonrise Kingdom and The Grand Budapest Hotel, have been flawed near-masterpieces, dazzlingly imagined and acted but marred by heavy-handed touches of sour violence and labored narrative conceits.
All of this is regrettably at work in Asteroid City. It has a beautiful look, the title setting is beguiling, there are patches of funny dialogue (by Anderson and Roman Coppola) and strong visual gags. The cast is without peer for current Hollywood prestige, glamour and chops. The star power is almost too abundant to name; check the poster above for the listing. It's the sort of bunch that only Woody Allen used to be able to command. But all of this, alas, falls short of overcoming Anderson's misguided habits.
Most ruinous is the frame story, about the play. It looks great, but it distances us from the main story while adding no perspective on it that I could see, is of minimal amusement in itself, and diffuses the later part of the picture into hazy anticlimax. But even within the Asteroid City story, Anderson strikes a curiously flat tone. Deadpan is a wonderful comic technique, unless everybody's deadpan, and then it just becomes monotonous.
A couple of the actors, like Liev Schreiber, Tilda Swinton, Hope Davis and Steve Carrell, manage to escape the Jack Webb Sound-Alike Contest and texture their performances a bit. And Tom Hanks, as Schwartzman's dour father-in-law, somehow finds a tone that's fully in keeping with the movie's style but also seems entirely naturalistic. Hanks seems to be indestructible.
#asteroid city#wes anderson#jason schwartzman#scarlett johansson#roman coppola#tom hanks#liev schreiber#tilda swinton#hope davis#steve carell#jeffery wright#bryan cranston#rushmore#bottle rocket
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fair trade Cambodia.Recycled brass bomb shell bee hive and Angkor motif earrings, necklace, cuff,ring & hair pin, ethically handmade
Craftworks Cambodia's insight:
fair trade Cambodia.Recycled brass bomb shell bee hive and Angkor motif earrings, necklace, cuff,ring & hair pin, ethically handmade by disadvantaged home based women & men workers.
Cambodians are renowned for their generous, humble and kind nature. For those who have been there this reputation cuffs, rings true throughout the whole country. Hand in hand with this there is an ever-present undertone of grief known only to a country that has seen horror and experienced great loss. It was in the 1970’s that the savage Pol Pot regime brought civil war to Cambodia and still renders its mark with 30% of people living below the poverty line. However, this tragic history does not impede on the spirit of the Cambodian people and it is amazing to see a country building and developing for a positive future.
Now on the tourist trail, economic growth is evident and Cambodia is seeing a turnaround. Cambodians themselves are determined to work towards a more profitable country. Companies such as Craftworks Cambodia are dedicated to this cause by providing fair trade work to disadvantaged Cambodians for their arts, crafts and trades. CC is a company which works towards Cambodia’s growth and development by supporting individual families. Artist Chantha Thoeun and his wife Thearny Kol are a couple employed by the company and they work as jewellers creating beautiful and unique pieces. Chantha talks of his work with CC “I have more freedom and independence. I also have more time to take care of my daughter.” With incomes going to support families with babies and children, CC’s efforts to build and work towards a strong future are unmistakable.
The types of goods that are created by CC’s artisans are distinctive and beautiful, touched with history. Postwar debris such as bomb casings and bullet shells are handcrafted into stunning, stylish pieces. It seems fitting to draw a parallel with the transformation of the pieces to that of Cambodia’s past as it moves towards a positive future. One example of this transformation is with the Natural Stone Cuffs &Rings, which begin as found bomb casings and result in high quality, beautiful rings. The rings are bold and distinctive, yet the fine detailing of ‘CAMBODIA’ intricately branded into the inner brass gives the rings femininity. The brass material highlights the natural stone that is the focal point of the piece. The stone has standout style with a flawless finish and comes in a choice of polished black or semi-polished white. CC also works with materials such as recycled paper and hand-woven silk to produce unique and inspired products, garments and jewellery. The Recycled Tubing Purses as the name denotes are made from recycled tubing creating an edgy and reworked design on a classic purse. The purses are eco friendly and ethically made by home based workers who are living with HIV/AIDS in the community. Every purse is handmade so each one possesses little unique qualities, making it your own. The overall style is chic and eye-catching with bright strips of textured material complementing against the black leather of the purse. The artisans of CC take pride in their work and strive for beauty and quality. Chantha talks of his work with CC,
"‘We will continue to try our best as we are so very pleased to produce jewellery for our customers through Craftworks Cambodia."
All works from Craftworks Cambodia as well as more information on the artisans and their stories can be found on www.craftworkscambodia.com
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PYGMALION AND THE STATUE
- Ovid's Metamorphoses
Pygmalion saw these women waste their lives
in wretched shame, and critical of faults
which nature had so deeply planted through
their female hearts, he lived in preference,
for many years unmarried.—But while he
was single, with consummate skill, he carved
a statue out of snow-white ivory,
and gave to it exquisite beauty, which
no woman of the world has ever equalled:
she was so beautiful, he fell in love
with his creation.
It appeared in truth
a perfect virgin with the grace of life,
but in the expression of such modesty
all motion was restrained—and so his art
concealed his art. Pygmalion gazed, inflamed
with love and admiration for the form,
in semblance of a woman, he had carved.
He lifts up both his hands to feel the work,
and wonders if it can be ivory,
because it seems to him more truly flesh. —
his mind refusing to conceive of it
as ivory, he kisses it and feels
his kisses are returned. And speaking love,
caresses it with loving hands that seem
to make an impress, on the parts they touch,
so real that he fears he then may bruise
her by his eager pressing. Softest tones
are used each time he speaks to her. He brings
to her such presents as are surely prized
by sweet girls; such as smooth round pebbles, shells,
and birds, and fragrant flowers of thousand tints,
lilies, and painted balls, and amber tears
of Heliads, which distill from far off trees.—
he drapes her in rich clothing and in gems:
rings on her fingers, a rich necklace round
her neck, pearl pendants on her graceful ears;
and golden ornaments adorn her breast.
All these are beautiful—and she appears
most lovable, if carefully attired,—
or perfect as a statue, unadorned.
He lays her on a bed luxurious, spread
with coverlets of Tyrian purple dye,
and naming her the consort of his couch,
lays her reclining head on the most soft
and downy pillows, trusting she could feel.
The festal day of Venus, known throughout
all Cyprus, now had come, and throngs were there
to celebrate. Heifers with spreading horns,
all gold-tipped, fell when given the stroke of death
upon their snow-white necks; and frankincense
was smoking on the altars. There, intent,
Pygmalion stood before an altar, when
his offering had been made; and although he
feared the result, he prayed: “If it is true,
O Gods, that you can give all things, I pray
to have as my wife—” but, he did not dare
to add “my ivory statue-maid,” and said,
“One like my ivory—.” Golden Venus heard,
for she was present at her festival,
and she knew clearly what the prayer had meant.
She gave a sign that her Divinity
favored his plea: three times the flame leaped high
and brightly in the air.
When he returned,
he went directly to his image-maid,
bent over her, and kissed her many times,
while she was on her couch; and as he kissed,
she seemed to gather some warmth from his lips.
Again he kissed her; and he felt her breast;
the ivory seemed to soften at the touch,
and its firm texture yielded to his hand,
as honey-wax of Mount Hymettus turns
to many shapes when handled in the sun,
and surely softens from each gentle touch.
He is amazed; but stands rejoicing in his doubt;
while fearful there is some mistake, again
and yet again, gives trial to his hopes
by touching with his hand. It must be flesh!
The veins pulsate beneath the careful test
of his directed finger. Then, indeed,
the astonished hero poured out lavish thanks
to Venus; pressing with his raptured lips
his statue's lips. Now real, true to life—
the maiden felt the kisses given to her,
and blushing, lifted up her timid eyes,
so that she saw the light and sky above,
as well as her rapt lover while he leaned
gazing beside her—and all this at once—
the goddess graced the marriage she had willed,
and when nine times a crescent moon had changed,
increasing to the full, the statue-bride
gave birth to her dear daughter Paphos. From
which famed event the island takes its name.
All images belong to Pinterest
#bookworm#dark academia books#book aesthetic#bookblr#books#books and libraries#classic literature#classical academia#mythology#greek myth poetry#poetry#greek poetry#greek poem#pygmalion#venus#pygmalion and galatea#ovid daily#ovid's metamorphoses#greek heroes#greek tragedy#poets corner#romantic poets#greek myth moodboard#greek aesthetic#greek muses#mythology aesthetic#cottagecore#cottagecore aesthetic#art#greek art
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an elegy to the man who never stood a chance
when you were born, my grandmother held your tiny body in her arms and whispered words of love to your ear while your father left through the back. she said it was for the best, and your brother marty—through fuzzy and bruised memories—can attest. the next wasn’t any better, and neither was the one after that.
when you were eight, your uncle took you to play a game and whispered words of adventure and pleasure while the needle entered your skin.
when you were eleven, you were left at home with your favorite babysitter and she too whispered strange words of love—so different from those of your mother— into your ear as her hands roamed. your new stepfather did the same to your sister—only 6—before he left too.
when you were twelve, you ran away—found yourself in a new home with new people and new bruises. and ran away again. you never went back to school.
at thirteen with hunger gnawing your abdomen, you broke the lock on a twinkie truck and ate and ate and ate until your belly rounded up and out. you carried as many boxes away with you as you could. you said that’s how they caught you.
when you were fourteen, you memorized the responses to the juvenile detention mental health screening that would indicate a low security placement and potential for early release. you were good at it, and you preened under the praise of the therapists.
when you were fourteen, you found a place to run to. you met Frank and his father and Jim. you sold LSD for the first time (and tried it too.) you were temporarily caught and placed, and my grandmother told your case manager that you would run. she placed you with a family she said was one of her best. and you ran the next day, unable to trust anyone to control you.
when you were sixteen, you were run over by a bus. later, after I was born, I would run my fingers over the smoothed ridges, fascinated by the perfect scar tissue texture, imagining it was a special kind of tattoo that I could get someday too.
when you were eighteen, you joined an illicit bare-knuckle boxing ring and traded juvie for prison. prison used the same mental health screening. you spent the next 12 years in and out in quick spurts.
when you were twenty-one, you met my mother and sealed your fate. she was smart and she was beautiful and she was already taking care of 10 younger siblings at 17. she was responsible. she was safe. she loved you, too. and both of you were used to yelling and hitting.
when you were twenty-four, she shot out the windows and tires of your truck and gave you a baby girl. you named the baby Hope and promised that her life would be nothing like yours. you promised your young wife you would never go back to prison.
when you were twenty-six, my mother gave you me. you were so pleased with your strange fae child, this bundle who wailed and hated to be touched by anyone but you or her older sister. so secretly pleased that this child, your child, chose you first and above all others. you called me Faith and promised me the same as my sister.
when I was two, I learned to be happy when you were home and unsurprised when you weren’t.
when I was four, you banned me from a friend’s house. I didn’t understand why and ignored you until you came home early one day, found me there, and proceeded to physically teach my friend’s father exactly why I wasn’t allowed over. I was taught the same lesson. years later, I found out that he was a meth dealer and that his daughter was not safe with his acquaintances.
when I was five, you came home from prison determined to teach us manners—the first of which is that elbows go off the table. I remember eating my cereal one morning, the light falling in through the half-curtain on the trailer’s window over small three-person kitchen table with my elbows on the table before feeling them swiped out from beneath me. shocked, with a face covered in milk and soggy grain, I saw your determined and unrepentant face.
when I was seven, you called me cuddlebug, still so pleased I preferred you to my mother. you started handing me tools then, describing them and asking for them as needed. I was good at picking the right one or offering the right one in a range of choices, and I preened under your praise.
when I was seven, I learned you weren’t as forgiving towards my siblings as you were towards me. I learned they weren’t as much yours as I was and that it made a difference.
when I was seven, you told me you’d never met anyone who read as much as I did. you’d never met anyone as naturally book-smart. you’d also never met anyone with so little common sense.
when I was seven, I learned you weren’t always forgiving towards me.
when I was nine, mom told me for the first time that you were an addict. you told me that she was an ugly troll and a liar, and she randomly switched out whichever drugs you used, so I believed you.
when I was ten, you took me to Frank’s and told me not to leave your side or Sahara’s room if you left me there, not to take anything anyone offered me, and to avoid Jim. Jim liked young girls (you knew my mother had told me what that meant many times over.) when we left, I had to breathe into your dashboard BAC detector until, lightheaded, I passed and you drove us home.
when I was fourteen, I mentioned offhandedly that some girls needed to choose better who they spent their time around after someone I knew was sexually assaulted. it was rape culture, the implicit blame towards victims for the actions of their abuser. you set me straight, you told me about my aunt anna, and you said that if you ever heard me say anything like that again about a woman who had been raped, you would make sure I learned a lesson I would never forget. I never said anything like it again, and I still wouldn’t.
when I was fourteen, you told me that I was the best thing you’d ever created on this planet. that I was brilliant, that I could do anything I wanted to do, that I could singlehandedly conquer the stars if I wanted to.
when I was fifteen, my sister offered to let me go to the expensive private school while she went to public school. I accepted her offer, and you told me that you’d never thought you could produce such a selfish and self serving creature.
when I was fifteen, my sister was spending too much time around a boyfriend that you thought was bad news and I hated too. I betrayed her, thinking that you were the lesser evil, and you threw boiling hot coffee on her and hit her with a baseball bat wielded from a car. she had burns across her arms and chest and I helped her climb out the window.
when I was sixteen, my sister revealed she’d been assaulted by a babysitter in childhood. you refused to believe her because you could not believe you failed.
when I was sixteen, my sister died.
when I was sixteen, you told me that I was the oldest now.
when I was sixteen, you told me that I must be thankful she was dead.
when I was sixteen, I committed never to come home again.
when I was eighteen, you reported me missing and had a cop drag me into your car—a legal kidnapping in our state. I was still considered a minor. you said it was for my own wellbeing. I almost missed my first week of college.
when I was twenty-two, you demanded a DNA test to ensure I was your biological child. my mother had been whispering falsehoods of infidelity in your ear, and your grasp on reality was weakening. I refused.
when I was twenty-five, my youngest brother entered the military, and you had your break into as-yet permanent psychosis. you were convinced there was a man living in the walls. you used several of the 13 firearms in the house to ‘test’ them and make sure no one was hiding. you were convinced my mother ‘needed to be put down.’ you were committed for almost 10 days before release against the wishes of your family members. while committed, you sexually assaulted your youngest daughter. 5 days after you came back home, you used a hammer to attack my mother who was continuing to tell you that your children weren’t your own.
when I was twenty-six, you went to visit my aunt lara who lived only one house down. in a state of psychosis, you accused the two male neighbors in their yard, a father and son, of being child molesters. intending to fight you, they entered aunt lara’s yard, where you beat them both until they could not rise. when a cop arrive at the scene, you beat him unconscious too. this was your third assault against an officer. you have been sentenced to life in prison. I cannot say I didn’t see this side of you frequently growing up.
I have not seen you in person since I was eighteen, and I will never see you again.
I have mourned you many times over, and I’m left to mourn the dregs still. you’re a man made more of ifs than reality, the presence of what you could have been more substantial to my future than what you were.
If- If- If- If- If- If- If-
It’s the ifs that drive me mad.
If my grandmother could have relied on social services for food and housing, she never would have welcomed abusive asshole after abusive asshole into her house to cover the expenses of 6 children. she wouldn’t have had more for the boost in income and benefits a newborn brings home with it. my little cousins wouldn’t be advised to have another baby when they can’t make ends meet.
If she didn’t need to prioritize a job over her children, she would not have had to leave the kids with dangerous uncles and unvetted babysitters. you never would have been forcefully dosed with heroine at 8, raped at 11, or run away from the abusive stepfathers at home. your perspective on what’s damaging to a child never would have been warped beyond belief nor recognition.
If we had universal access to healthcare, you could have gotten therapy for the myriad of abuses you faced in childhood as well as medication to manage the life-long neurochemical impacts of such trauma. you never would have had to self-medicate with hard drugs that worsened your symptoms. you would have been able to evaluate your circumstances and decide intentionally how to raise your children instead of doing your best to protect us from ‘The Most Damaging Stuff In Your Opinion.’ you would have done better if you’d known to. you wanted to be a good father. you always just wanted to be a good father. I remember you spending as much time as you could with any man who seemed like a good father figure, and it wasn’t enough. you need professional help that you could never ever afford.
If- If- If- If- If- If- If-
If we had money
If we had resources
If we lived in a social system that cared whether we lived or died
if we could avoid the cascades of systemic devastation that wipe out entire families
If my grandmother could have afforded healthcare for her kids, she could have put my severely intellectually disabled Uncle Rick in day programs with age-appropriate peers. Instead, he was left to play with his intellectual ‘equal’—my four year old cousin Penny—and his sexual exploration took place there.
If my Aunt Anna had never experienced sexual violence at the hands of her stepfather, she never would have downplayed Priscilla’s abuse.
If my cousin Carrie could have afforded to replace the paint in her home, her first son wouldn’t have died to lead poisoning and other household toxins. she wouldn’t have developed a methamphetamine addiction to cope with the grief. she wouldn’t have lost her second pregnancy, and her own father wouldn’t have made an attempt on his life.
If my Uncle Beau had never been abused to the same degree as my father, he would not have self-medicated with the heroine his uncle introduced him to, he wouldn’t have committed suicide in a heroine-withdrawal-induced lapse of depression, he wouldn’t have traumatized me with the loss, and he wouldn’t have left 7 children fatherless.
If my Aunt Joan could have afforded better, she never would have lived in a duplex with a neighboring meth lab, but she still had her kids taken away for three full years after the landlord listed two units as one to save on a tax bill.
If my Uncle John wasn’t self-medicating with opioids after years of abuse and instability, he would not have neglected his daughter, and I might not have had to raise a newborn for 8 months at only 13 years old before her permanent adoption by my Uncle Dean.
if we had tried, we could have prevented you. we could have prevented all of this.
you are a monster of our collective creation, and your story will end as it began—punished for pain, unable to save yourself alone, left to suffer and die and take innocent bystanders out with you in bursts of half-feral, uncomprehending violence.
i hope you’re the last of your breed, dad. and I hope i’m the last of mine.
i’m so sorry to us all.
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National Caesar Salad Day
National Caesar Salad Day is a food holiday observed on July 4 of every year. Caesar salad is a green salad consisting chiefly of romaine lettuce and croutons dressed with lemon juice, olive oil, egg, Worcestershire sauce, garlic, Parmesan cheese, and black pepper. It was first prepared at tableside. There are different versions of Caesar salad available which are made with and without eggs. Sometimes, yoghurt is used instead of eggs to maintain a creamy texture, while others may use mayonnaise, oil and vinegar. The salad is now made in many variations like by adding grilled chicken, steak, or seafood.
“Caesar salad is one of my favourite lunch foods. You can shovel it in and talk at the same time.” – Janet Street-Porter
History of National Caesar Salad Day
National Caesar Salad Day observes the birthday of the Caesar Salad. Creator of National Caesar Salad Day remains anonymous. Ever wondered why the salad is called so, it is assumed that it was named after the Roman Emperor title. Few believe that there was an Italian born chef named Caesar Cardini who later immigrated to the United States after World War I. Caesar and his family ran a restaurant in Tijuana, Mexico. Chef Caesar Cardini is believed to have developed this salad with anchovies and raw egg as the main ingredients, parmesan, dijon mustard, lemon juice and salt added along with it. Caesar invented this salad on Fourth of July 1924 as rush in the restaurant consumed all the kitchen’s supplies. So Caesar made the dish with what was available in the kitchen. Ceaser’s daughter opposed the use anchovy in his father’s salad and said that the anchovy flavour that came from the Worcestershire sauce. Julia Child has also once recalled her childhood memory of eating the Caesar salad at Cardini’s restaurant. In 1946, Dorothy Kilgallen, a newspaper columnist had written about a Caesar salad that varied with Cardini’s version. Now bottled Caesar dressings are widely marketed and sold by many companies.
How to celebrate National Caesar Salad Day
On this day enjoy the famous and mouthwatering Caesar salad. Spend some time in reading about the history and the evolution of the salad. This salad takes less than 20 min to be prepared, so give a try in making these salads at home. Make and share it with your friends and family. You can also add this to the menu of your dinner party. With beautiful, creamy, anchovy dressing, this salad can be had as a meal. Serve it with crusty Italian Bread to make it taste the best.
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