#Keystone Viewing

[davidsankey]

The Peeler and the Playwright by National Library of Ireland on The Commons Via Flickr: Probably one of the world's greatest playwrights, Sean O'Casey, standing on Drury Street Lane in London with a policeman. Given Casey's well known socialist leanings, was he getting marching instructions, or was he having a chat with an expatriate Irishman? Photographers: Keystone View Company photographer Date: Circa 1926 Friday 5th (Most Likely) or Saturday 6th March 1926 NLI Ref: NPA SOC You can also view this image, and many thousands of others, on the NLI’s catalogue at catalogue.nli.ie

[frost-eyed-autumn]

{--Found this by accident and I've been thinking about Hunting Dogs Chuuya ever since.

Like, Chuuya if he never joined the Sheep. Chuuya if he never ran across Dazai and the Port Mafia, never met Mori or the Flags. Chuuya who never went through the questions of whether or not he's human (having it instilled into him similar to Verlaine that he's not). Never having his "real" family in Yamaguchi tracked down for him to answer where he came from. Chuuya who never opened his Gate (because no Dazai) to protect anyone because doing so means he would die without anyone to save him, not to mention the death and destruction that he'd cause as a result. Raised only to be a government asset and a weapon and nothing else.

I wonder who that Chuuya would be... : ) --}

[briansolomonauthor]

Views from the Keystone

It was fun gliding west on the old Main Line. Kris and I had boarded Amtrak Keystone 665 at 30th Street Station in Philadelphia. I wanted to sit on the northside of the train and check out some of our usual places as we zipped along at 100 plus. As we approached Lancaster, a thunderstorm had darkened the horizon. I made these views from the train using my Z7-II. Old Conrail caboose on display…

[ilikeevilblondes]

Wide Open

18+ MDNI!

Summary: After a long day of work, Joel expects nothing more from the evening than getting some shut-eye. Fate has other plans, however, because the daughter of the family next door forgot to close her blinds again and is putting on quite the show.

TL;DR: Joel gets off watching you get off.

W.C: ~2.8k

Warnings: pervyneighbour!joel x reader, he's a tiny bit of a creep, accidental voyeurism (kind of…), mutual masturbation, dildo usage, lowkey a tiny breeding kink, implied age gap as per ushe (late-40s, early-20s), (no outbreak!)

Note: this is your daily reminder to close your blinds, y'all. unless joel miller is your neighbour. then maybe don't, and fuck with him.

Part One | Part Two

Joel always said he’d retire ‘soon’. 

Though as the years flew by, ‘soon’ remained ambiguously distant.

Presently, he had just come home from an unnecessarily hard day at work where some Einstein had misread the blueprint and cut every single piece of lumber half an inch too short. 

Joel was pushing fifty now. If asked toward his earlier adulthood, he’d have claimed that fifty-years-old balanced right on the precipice of retirement. And by sixty, he’d be golfing daily, attempting to read something other than the backs of DVDs, and not worrying about stupid shit like redoing an entire section of framing because of Romero’s shitty-fucking-eyesight.

“Fuckin’ Romero,” Joel mumbled to himself as he locked the door behind him and tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter.

With heavy footsteps, he ambled toward the fridge, praying he had the foresight the night before to leave a can or two of Modelo for his future self.

The unwelcoming sterile glare of the fridge light greeted him as he yanked open the door. Worse, it greeted him with its contents, or lack thereof.

No Modelo. 

Not even a lone, pitiful can of Keystone Light that Joel may have bought in desperation as a crappy substitute for literally any other beer.

Making a mental note to pick up a six-pack sometime tomorrow and, further down the line to maybe cut down on the beer, Joel trudged up the stairs to his bedroom.

His bedframe whined with a metallic creak as he sat on the edge, rubbing his hands down his face and feeling the scrape of his overgrown stubble on his worn palms.

Joel was more than ready to call it a night, he thought, as he leaned over to draw the curtains.

But he froze upon seeing you.

The two-story craftsman next door, formerly a ‘fixer-upper’, had been home to you and your parents ever since you moved in from the city a year ago. Your parents were mild-mannered neighbours who sent the street Christmas cards and kept the porch light on and took part in the neighbourhood watch patrol.

And you? You never made your bed, always had a book in your hands before sleeping, and more importantly, had a very noticeable habit of neglecting to close the blinds of your bedroom window.

Joel knew this, of course, because the bedroom of the two-story craftsman facing his house just so happened to belong to you.

“Shit,” Joel heaved a heavy sigh, still clutching the drawstring with notable tenseness.

Your cream-coloured blinds were slanted completely horizontally, allowing a direct view into your bedroom. And Joel found himself helplessly entranced, watching the back of your silhouette pull your shirt over your head and fling it across the room.

Fuck, you were very possibly wearing his favourite bra. The lacey ones that pushed your tits up real nice–

No. No, Joel, didn’t have a favourite bra of yours. What kind of neighbour would keep track of the family next door’s daughter’s bras? 

You turned around and, to his delight, confirmed that you were wearing the exact pair.

Him, evidently.

Joel squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back, running a hand through his greying hair and letting out a deep exhale.

You continued undressing, seemingly oblivious to the state of your blinds and the lack of privacy that state entailed. And further, oblivious of the old man next door watching intently as you unzipped your jeans and stepped out of them.

A thong. You had chosen to wear a thong that day. Because, of course, you had.

Bright red and stringy and covering virtually nothing, which left no part of your lower half to the imagination and Joel was able to see most of your perfect fucking pussy from the house over—

“The fuck am I doing?” Joel mumbled to himself and decidedly tore himself away from his window.

What was he doing? 

It wasn’t like you were strangers. He knew you. He came over to barbecues hosted in your back garden, fixed the leak in your kitchen sink when your dad had called, and watched the Superbowl in your living room that one year.

And, as much as he may have indulged in watching you before, he had never lingered as much as just did. Usually, he’d be sated with a few seconds of your half-dressed state, and would only later conjure up that image in the shower to fuck his fist to.

The tightness in his pants seemed to disagree with that plan, and Joel was overcome with an overwhelming need to settle his problem down south immediately.

Joel turned back to his window, determined to draw the curtains shut once and for all and then quickly jerk off to the mere thought of you (not that that was a noble action in and of itself), when he, for the second time that evening, froze at the sight of you.

Your bedroom was furnished in a way that had your bed facing your window. So, your wonderfully respectful neighbour could easily have direct views of you lying on your bed chatting on your phone, or reading, or spread out and running your fingers through your slick folds.

If Joel thought he was hard before, he was definitely, painfully, rock-hard now.

As careless as you may have been in the past, you have never forgotten to close your blinds to this degree before.

And, owing to that logic, you would never slip up like this again.

So, one would be incredibly stupid to not take advantage of this rare opportunity.

“Fuck it,” Joel inhaled sharply.

He scrambled to undo his belt and unzip his jeans and pull them down just enough to tug his raging erection out of his briefs, all while desperately keeping his gaze set on you.

Bracing one hand against the wall, he let the other wrap around his cock, fisting it leisurely as he watched you take open-mouthed breaths while your fingers traced up your seam to rub at your clit, your thong haphazardly pushed to the side.

You looked so pretty like that; lying on your bed and touching yourself as if you had pent-up emotions of need you desperately ached to satisfy.

You went slowly, dragging your fingers down along your wet cunt and against your throbbing clit, likely savouring the intensity.

Joel matched your pace, his fist sliding in a lazy tempo around his aching member.

Fuck, he’d do anything to grind his cock against your pussy; feel it shiver and clench around nothing and coat his length with your seeping slick. He’d bet all his money he could make you come without even putting it inside, too. Needy fucking slut.

And then you dipped a finger inside. 

Then another. 

God, with the way you seemed to be shaking around two of your own slender fingers, Joel was sure you’d be a mess riding his. 

Fuck, he’d even give you a third just to see you lose your fucking mind.

Maybe you’d beg him to stop, crying prettily and gasping in pitchy breaths that you just couldn’t take any more. But Joel believed you could, and he’d tell you so as he slipped his index finger to join the other two, feeling you clench around them—

Joel’s dick twitched in his hand and it was all he could do not to come early and let the show go to waste. Instead, he adopted a faster tempo, trying his damnedest to follow yours, however erratic it was.

Your mouth opened in a silent moan and you tossed your head back against your pillows as your fingers sped up in their ministrations.

Shit, you probably sounded real fuckin’ sweet, all overwhelmed with pleasure.

Again, your mouth parted, letting out a syllable of something Joel couldn’t hear, your tongue flicking out momentarily as you sounded it out.

Maybe it was Joel’s twisted imagination, but he was somewhat sure you had just moaned his name.

You probably didn’t, but it was a nice fucking dream, anyway.

He’d do just about anything to hear his name on your lips, whispered like a prayer or screamed like a plea as he relentlessly pounded into your tight fucking pussy. And, if given the opportunity, he’d fuck you so hard, a slurred babble of name would be the only thing you could say.

A familiar warmth began to pool at the pit of his stomach and his cock tensed even more.

Fuck, he was close.

And, he assumed you were, too, owing to the sheen of sweat on your body glistening under your lamp and the giant breaths you were heaving in.

“C’mon, babygirl.” He encouraged aloud despite being a good distance out of earshot, his voice coming out raspy and low. “Come for me,”

He watched you carefully, waiting for the moment your eyes fluttered shut and your hand stilled so he could close his eyes and imagine fucking his load into your spent cunt.

But no such series of events occurred.

Unexpectedly, however, you pulled your fingers out and flopped over on your stomach to reach for the bottom drawer of your bedside table.

What… the fuck?

Did you come already? Without Joel noticing? Shit, he definitely was too cocky in his familiarity with the female body if he didn’t clock your orgasm.

“Goddamnit.” Joel sighed, his hand coming to a complete stop.

Maybe it was better this way. 

Maybe Joel could still salvage what little morality he retained and beg for forgiveness from the higher powers above—

And no, actually, he couldn’t because, being the dirty fucking whore you were, you pulled out what he recognised to be a dildo from your nightstand.

You stopped fingering yourself to get a dildo from your nightstand.

“Filthy girl,” Joel tutted through a depraved smile, watching with hazy, lust-flooded eyes as you sat back down, spat directly on the tip of the sex toy, and positioned it in front of your weeping pussy.

Who knew that the sweet girl next door, the one who always offered to help carry groceries or to water his plants while he was away, kept a thick fucking dildo near her bed.

Not just any dildo, either, Joel realised.

It must have been his lucky fucking day, because, upon squinting at the unholy sight, Joel discerned that the shade of which the toy was painted almost exactly matched the rich tan of his skin tone.

In other words, it was now going to be much easier to imagine himself fucking you when a close replica of his cock was pistoning in and out of your pretty cunt.

“You gonna put it in, sweetheart?” Joel sighed, his grip tightening around his length as he watched your dawdling.

Fuck, he was going to get humanity’s worst case of blue balls if you stretched this out any longer.

“C’mon, baby. Jus’ put it in. ‘S not that hard,” He all but whined.

He, a man pushing fifty, basically whined. Good lord, what kind of fucking temptress were you?

Thankfully, it seemed as though you heard his words, because right after, you had slid the first few inches inside your walls, gasping at its girth.

“Yeah, there you go.” Joel sucked in a sharp inhale as he thrust up into his fist. “That all? Oh, babygirl, you can give yourself more.”

As if reading his mind, you slowly began feeding yourself the rest of the tanned dildo, throwing your head backwards and chanting that syllable that was so dangerously close to Joel’s name.

For the purpose of that night, Joel took the liberty of imagining it was, in fact, his own name as he fucked up fully into his fist.

When you finally took the toy to the hilt, its fake carved balls pressing against your ass, you started moving it in and out of your drenched seam at a steady pace.

Joel let out a string of incoherent curses under his breath, which quickly turned into strained groans as he mirrored your rhythm, practically feeling the way your pretty pussy clenched around that fake dick.

Your chest was expanding and contracting frantically now and you were no doubt releasing breathy moans from the sensation of fucking yourself with those eight generous inches.

Joel wished he was in that room with you to give you the same and then some. 

He’d kiss his way down to your tits and take a nipple into his mouth, tasting the sweetness of your skin as he bent you in half and made you see stars.

He wouldn’t even have cared too much if you passed out, as long as, when you woke up, he was still driving into you and kissing your cervix with each thrust, sending you barrelling into orgasm after unbound orgasm.

He’d hold out as long as it took to get you completely sated, and even a little more after. Maybe he’d even pop a certain little blue pill just to watch himself fuck his come deep inside you again and again after rounds of laborious exertion.

Joel’s dick twitched again at the mere thought.

And again, upon seeing the sight of you pulling the soaking dildo out of your tight hole and manoeuvering yourself to hover above the thing like you were about to sit on it.

Christ alive. You were going to ride your dildo.

“Shit,” Joel breathed, his eyes widening slightly. God, this would be a treat to watch.

Worrying your teeth on your lower lip, you began to slowly sink down on the toy, a silent scream leaving your parted lips as you steadily took it all the way to the fucking hilt.

Joel, he imagined you to have mewled. Joel, you’re so fucking big.

“‘S okay, sweetie, you’re doin’ real well.” Joel sighed, watching you adjust to the size. “Brave girl, doin’ so good. Now, go on and ride that cock. C’mon, baby.”

And so you did.

Bouncing up and down on the toy, your mouth opening in a steady stream of what seemed to be expletives, and your tits springing from your efforts.  

Fuck, in his forty-something years of life, Joel had never seen such a pretty sight.

And, there you were, repeating that mystery syllable like your life depended on it.

Joel, Joel, Joel, he envisioned you whimpering.

You were close again. He was sure of it. If it wasn’t already painstakingly obvious from the way you were eagerly swiping at your swollen clit.

And so, he finally gave in and began fucking up into his fist—his hips intensely chasing his hand—at the ferocity at which he dreamed to ram inside you, dragging against your velvety walls and feeling as you shivered uncontrollably around him.

He was close, too. Very fucking close.

“Come for me, sweet thing. C’mon. Be a good … fuck, be a good slut for me and come around that cock.” Joel breathed, eyes glued to the display of you feverishly riding the toy.

Then, suddenly, your mouth opened in a long scream as you nearly went cross-eyed.

Shortly after, your face scrunched up in pleasure and your body fell still on the dildo, the only movements being small rolls of your hips against the rubber length as your breathing began to even.

You came.

Fucking finally. 

Joel shut his eyes and pictured driving into your throbbing, dripping cunt, hearing your pitchy whines as he shushed you with little follow-through.

Gonna come inside, he’d tell you in between heavy, strained breaths. To which, you’d frantically alert him of the fact that you weren’t on the pill and the two of you had chosen to forgo the assistance of a condom.

But Joel’d come inside you anyway. Mark up his pretty girl with pearly ropes of his come. And he’d keep you filled up as long as he fucking could.

Before he knew it, Joel was coming hard and fast into his fist, wildly jerking in and out of his grip as he rode out his high.

It took a few more moments for him to slow down, and a good number more for him to stop fully.

“Fucking hell,” Joel sighed as he took a seat on the edge of his bed, reaching over to a nearby table and plucking a few pieces of tissue out of its box to clean himself up with.

Satisfied, he crumpled up the tissues, tossed them into a nearby trashcan and gently tucked himself back in.

His head hung low as he caught his breath and tried not to linger on the dubious ethics of what had just transpired.

While that had possibly been the best jerk in his life, it was undoubtedly very non-consensual. At least, on your side.

After all, you hadn’t explicitly given him permission to fuck his fist to the sight of you doing… whatever fucking marathon that was.

At least, he didn’t think you did.

Until, bing!

Joel angled his head to catch sight of his phone lighting up with a recent notification.

Unsure of who could be texting him at that hour, Joel took it in his hands and unlocked it with a quick swipe of his passcode.

It was a message from you.

You: you gonna keep jerking off across the street or are you gonna come over?

Joel’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. 

So, you had seen him. Possibly even orchestrated the whole ordeal; neglecting to close your blinds on purpose, wearing that bra, and, well, fucking yourself right by your window.

Shit. Well, he couldn’t just come over and fuck you silly … could he?

Then, another text came.

You: home alone.

Joel never put on his shoes faster.

[pwlanier]

Keystone View Agentur

New York / Berlin (ab 1935 Weltbild)

'Garconnes' à la mode. Um 1928

Vintage. Silbergelatineabzug

Grisebach

[couch-house]

Hopefully I'll remember to come back and add to this later, but in my agony over the way this franchise treats its main female character, I've been fomenting an idea for a dream game, which I just call Amy's Girl Adventure. The boys are all offscreen trapped in a cage or something, being NOT important, while Amy and the girls get center stage for a full adventure.

And ofc as part of this, I feel the franchise is sorely lacking in some kind of Rue to her Duck, a Homura to her Madoka, a third edgy aloof meangirl rival to her optimistic pink protagonist. Enter Anemone Black, the antagonist of Amy's Girl Adventure, who will continue to be Amy's cold and rude rival even after she is defeated; NO MORE NICE GIRLS!!!

I have a vision for Amy's Girl Adventure that I'd really like to compile in a google doc at some point, but here's the elevator pitch: a combat-focused platformer that borrows heavily from Battle and Unleashed's combat mechanics. While Sonic and co are off elsewhere, Amy decides it would be helpful to collect the Chaos Emeralds on their behalf, just in case. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a race to collect the emeralds against a mysterious girl named Anemone, who seems bent on using the Emeralds to change the world herself. Amy must work with her friends and allies to find all of the Chaos Emeralds before Anemone can.

Full image transcript below the cut!

Anemone Black (the Porcupine) 13 Cool rival for Amy Graceful, cool aloof, jaded When in possession of Chaos Emeralds, gains dark witchy powers Even when beaten, refuses to sacrifice her ideals Keystone species in girl character ecosystem: mean

Anemone's backstory is no more tragic than anyone else's in this world: powerless, she and many others have lost friends and family to disasters like the flooding of Station Square, the splitting of the planet, and Eggman's global conquest. Despondent and resentful, Anemone believes Sonic and his friends are too incompetent to stop these disasters before they happen. Anemone seeks the Chaos Emeralds to be granted their fabled Wish, which she will use to solve the world's problems herself. Ready to sacrifice the few for the good of the many, Anemone's Wish will kill Eggman and destroy his empire. And if anyone gets in her way, she'll show no mercy. Even when she is beaten, Anemone will not be swayed by Amy's rosy view of Sonic and what it means to save people. However, she will be compelled to attempt to change Amy's mind, above anyone else, just as Amy will attempt to change hers. The two recognize themselves in each other, as dark mirrors of naivete and cynicism.

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Boys, each holding a milk bottle, pose in a line beside a Department of Health poster reading "Give the baby milk" at the Madison Street Health Station on the Lower East Side, ca. 1925. The boys had collected the bottles for their mothers.

Photo: Keystone View Company/FPG/Archive Photos/Getty Images

[junkdrawerfan]

I have thoughts about Bruce & Parenting:

One of the reasons Jason runs away from home to find his birth mother (and eventually dies) is because Bruce benched him. Removing Robin from Jason made Jason think his time at the Manor was coming to a close, triggering his desire to return to his neighborhood which leads to him find out Catherine isn’t his birth mother. And all that heartache -- and the pain to follow -- stemmed from a misunderstanding that Jason thought he was “adopted” to be Robin while Bruce was just looking for a son.

This misunderstanding is never resolved. I would argue it is one of the keystones of the modern Jason-Bruce arguments. And it is never resolved because Bruce doesn’t know Jason didn't want to be Robin. After all, Jason genuinely enjoyed being Robin once he started and Bruce thought he was being a "good dad" because he was making Jason happy while protecting him physically. After all, Jason asked to be Robin just as Dick did.

But why did Bruce allow Robin to be created in the first place?

My hypothesis… my interpretation is as such:

One of the failings of Bruce’s parenting with Jason and Dick is Bruce allows the child to set the expectations in the parent-child relationship.

You can see this A LOT in Bruce’s biggest blunders with Dick. When Dick was young (NINE!), Bruce let Dick decide to be Robin, throwing himself into danger, and running lead on cases without a lot of oversight or boundaries from Bruce. This pattern of behavior carries over into their civilian life. This has lead to interpretations of their father-son relationship being more like brother-brother in the early years. All of which, Bruce allows because Dick is physically small enough that Bruce can protect him from danger. Weirdly it’s the same logic small dog owners use to avoid teaching their dogs: why bother training them to stop jumping when you can just pick them up and move them. The problem is kids, unlike small dogs, don’t stay small forever.

As Dick got older and Bruce attempted — most likely subconsciously — to course correct by setting expectations like Dick needs to take his safety more seriously and slow down on heroing to allow for a civilian life, Dick is shocked and insulted, seeing it as Bruce not trusting him. When in reality, expecting your child to pursue some kind of job/college post high school is a not an unrealistic expectation nor is questioning if that child really wants to continue heroing, a very dangerous profession, into adulthood where Bruce can no longer physically protect him.

The problem is these expectations are being set way too late. Dick and Bruce have been operation for so long under Dick’s desires that it is such a shock to the system/routine that when it all comes to a head after Dick is shot by the Joker (triggering Bruce’s PTSD) it leads to a massive falling out. Of course, Bruce goes way too far in attempting to control the situation when he takes Robin away in a misguide attempt to bench Dick.

And we know how well that works out.

Years later, once Jason is older, starting to push back against Bruce’s teachings, and is getting too big to hide under the cape, we see the same issue popping up. Bruce sees Jason acting out/getting angrier and is afraid Jason has killed a man (The Diplomat’s Son) and benches Jason. While Jason is used to following Bruce’s lead in the field, Jason definitely sets the expectations in their father-son relationship. So when Bruce attempts to take the reins by benching Robin — the one area in their lives that Bruce’s kids listen to Bruce — it, again, feels like a betrayal. This all culminates in Jason running away because he doesn’t feel stable at home (the same way Dick did).

(Side note: You could argue this is because Bruce’s biggest parenting influence is Alfred. Bruce views Alfred as a father figure but Alfred is never able to fully step outside his role as butler, no matter how much he wants to. This meant that Alfred the Butler enables Bruce a lot. That coupled with Alfred’s own violent past meaning Alfred doesn’t have a good frame of reference of what a child can handle in the first place, we end up with Batman.)

I don’t think Bruce really fixes his parenting until he gets Damian.

With Tim, Bruce provides stability — to the point Jack Drake feels threatened by Bruce’s presence in Tim’s life — but that is because Bruce is strictly the “mentor” in Tim’s life for the first few years, which helps establish a pattern in the relationship where Tim listens to Bruce’s expectations in and out of the mask. It also helps that Tim is less confrontational than Bruce’s other children. Tim is less likely to argue directly with Bruce and more likely to go around Bruce (feeling guilty while he’s doing it but doing it anyway lol).

Damian, from day one, is looking for a parent. And at this point — between Tim and Cass and fixing his relationship with Dick — Bruce has started to figure out how to manage his kids. This all culminates in a father-son relationship with Damian where Bruce, as the father, sets the expectations in and out of the mask. Bruce makes a lot of effort to bond with Damian in the Batman & Robin comics after he comes back from the dead. Bruce makes Damian go to school and expects him to socialize. Bruce initiates the friendship with Jon Kent for Damian while his other children found their own friends and teams. He sets the moral framework for how Robin operates (which Dick started). After Damian comes back from the dead, Bruce knows Damian’s friends and is involved in his romantic life. He engages in Damian’s hobbies and encourages them. He also scolds Damian when he breaks the rules or tries to lie without ripping away Robin (shockingly low bar I know!).

Of course, I wouldn’t say Bruce is earning any parenting awards and I’m still reading about Damian and Bruce’s relationship so I’m sure there is information I’m missing. But Bruce seems like a much more involved parent now than he did with Dick.

TLDR: Bruce’s greatest failings as a parent is his very permissive parenting style which leads to major fallouts with his older children that he only corrects with Damian after practicing a more proactive parenting style with Tim and Cass.

[theoi-crow]

Thank you for all Zeus support posts ♥️ everywhere I go, all my mutuals too, they blast Zeus for being an abusive father. I know it’s because of the modern books and games that’s depicting Zeus this way. But the misinterpretation and mistreatment still get under my nerves.

When it comes to judging Zeus, I noticed ethnocentrism is the biggest problem.

A lot of people judge the ancient world based on their own modern culture and what they fail to realize is that ethnocentrism is the same logic white settlers used against Native Americans. It's the same logic they used when they were kidnapping people from Africa to bring as slaves. It's the same logic used to justify destroying cultures and appropriating them. “We are helping the savages because they don't know any better.” This is the problem when judging a culture based solely on one's own culture. You kill the culture. You force it to follow your rules instead of studying it based on its own terms to better understand why it developed the way it did.

Zeus is a keystone part of the religion and I will always do my best to explain his importance.

I will always do my best to discourage ethnocentric talking points when people try to put him down because they don't realize they are using the same logic colonizers used against my people and every POC culture in history. They don't realize they are essentially calling the ancient Greeks “savages” in the same way white settlers called the same POC people they were killing while stealing their land and resources.

Zeus is the main figure in the Ancient Hellenic religion.

Everyone else is a part of his court but as the king of the gods, his part in the religion is essential and a key component of it is Xenia, hospitality.

When you start to judge the ancient Greek culture based on its own rules you will see that Zeus is order, that's why the theogony starts with chaos, in order to show how Zeus turned chaos into order. When you start to judge the ancient culture based on its own rules you will see that people used Zeus to justify their ancestry so of course he will have human children because, as the king of the gods, the ancient Greeks believed Zeus appointed kings via birthright because monarchies are by birthright. (He can't have them solely with Hera or they will just be gods, he needs to have them with a human to create demigods).

The idea behind him raping women stems from the misunderstanding of what was defined as rape in the ancient world. No matter the age or how willing they were, women back then were not able to consent because they were not in charge of their own lives. The consent needed to come from their fathers/husbands/whatever man was in charge, that's why it's often translated as rape, because there was no consent given by the men in charge because oftentimes they didn't know the child was a demigod until they were older and started showing signs of being different than other humans.

Just like how we have people who compete in the Olympics today, or people that are very talented or gifted, there were a lot of people back then who were also extraordinary humans and instead of thinking “wow, humans can be incredible,” the ancient Greeks believed an extraordinary human was the secret love child of a human and a god, depending on their specialty and which god that fell under, like Alexander the Great who was thought to be the son of Zeus, or Pythagoras (inventor of the Pythagorean theorem) who was thought to be the son of Apollo.

It's okay to acknowledge ancient views were different from modern views and progress for women has changed over time because these are stories that are older than the literal Bible so of course progress will happen and the ancient and modern world will be very different. But it's never okay to judge an ancient culture using the same logic that was used to destroy cultures and enslave people.

I defend Zeus because I do my best to destroy ethnocentric views whenever they pop up.

This is why research is so important and why I try to provide it as often as I can because once you start judging the culture based on its own laws and actual rules, you'll find that:

Zeus is incredible.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Backstory

Backstory - the history of the character.

It addresses the following:

Who the character is

Why the character is the way he or she is

It’s an origin story, pure and simple.

The most comprehensive backstories start from the very beginning of the character's life and ends the moment that your novel begins.

It’s generally in chronological order, but not necessarily written in narrative form.

It can be a collection of data, such as keystone events, names and dates.

The backstory doesn’t always need to be shared

Most backstories are just for your eyes only.

You can create a complex, rich, hauntingly beautiful backstory for your characters, but that doesn’t mean it should be in your novel.

Far too often, authors try to insert a compelling backstory into their novel. The result? It weighs down the story and slows pacing to a grinding halt.

Resist the urge to add your backstory to your novel unless it’s something that the reader truly needs to know.

You reader probably doesn’t need to know the names of your character’s parents, or other mundane details— but you do. You need to know everything that the character knows. This is how you can write from the character’s point of view effectively. 

Otherwise, you’re phoning it in and writing from sketch, not from portrait.

Depending on the scope of your novel, it may be a good idea to inject some of your backstory into the main story. You’re never going to give everything you know to the reader.

If you dump all of those facts without the benefit of context, it will overwhelm the reader and make it difficult for them to see the story.

As the writer, you take all of the facts you know, carve them into a beautiful work of art, and make the moral of your story obvious.

That’s what makes you the artist, and the editor an essential partner in the process.

Start with a present day character sketch

Even before you start writing, you already have a vague idea of who your character is currently.

Maybe he’s a crusty, old curmudgeon. Maybe she’s a optimistic, but naive, teenager.

No matter who your character is, start with what you know already and go back from there.

Ask and answer the following questions to start crafting a solid backstory:

What is this character’s biggest flaw? What’s the origin of this flaw?

Where is the character from?

Where are the character’s parents from? How did they come to have a child and under what circumstances? Was it a happy union or a chance encounter?

What is the character afraid of? Trace the answer back to the character’s childhood and explain why.

What makes the character happy? Trace the answer back to the character’s childhood and explain why.

What does your character believe about himself and how did he come to this conclusion?

What are his goals? Why does he have these goals?

Pinpoint a life changing moment

Everyone, your characters included, have select moments in their lives that completely alter their choices.

These times are rarely announced with fanfare.

Example: It’s not the wedding day that changes your character’s life, it’s the moment five years earlier when your character meets her spouse-to-be in the line at Burger King.

Thanks to the 20/20 vision of hindsight, you can see how the character’s present day life was shaped by seemingly random encounters and events that took place years ago. Remember that all of her previous choices take place in, and are a reaction to, her backstory.

Those choices made her into the person your reader meets in your novel. How did her life’s experiences shape her into the current character?

Explore the gray

No character is completely good or completely bad.

Resist the urge to paint any character as all evil or all angelic.

Even a villain is the hero of his own story.

Remove your black and white filters and look at the character as someone who exists in shades of gray. If he has experienced kindness along with pain, then your backstory should reflect that.

Use it as motivation

The backstory should always motivate the character - positively or negatively.

The character either stands on what he knows and has experienced, or he’s running away from what he knows and has experienced. Either way, it can make a compelling plot for your novel.

Creating a backstory takes time and thought, but you’ll find that the quality of your writing will improve. Knowing your characters inside and out will make them more real to you and, as a result, more real to your readers.

Source ⚜ Writing Worksheet: Character Backstory Writing References: Worldbuilding ⚜ Plot ⚜ Character

[kiame-sama]

Okay I have a couple questions it's been on my mind for a couple days now and I just have to ask first Kalim dad he's a genie too right doesn't that mean that he's experienced multiple childbirth like wouldn't that like hurt him a lot because how many kids he has or has it gone to the point he's just numb to it now.

Second I'm just curious what would happen if we die like I know they're probably going to lose their minds but like to what exact point cuz I know some of them are going to like overblot again but like do they like deteriorate mentally or is it like a gradual state and like what are the consequences to us dying does Crowley get like jailed or something.

Third this is also similar to the second question what if we like died after we had all our children for some reason like let's say we didn't connect to mal soul thing and we die and now he has to take care of eight children all by itself how will the others react to the death of their wife and how will children react to the death of their mother or we go down a darker path and both us and our children die for some reason you can decide how that happens would that be worse then just us dying I'm just so curious how this would happen I've been brewing on this for a couple days now and I just had to know.

Also love your work keep it up 🥰😍

Warnings; as the ask states, by selecting 'view more' you consent to view content and are of age to view content

Yes. Kalim's father has MANY children and experienced the agony of childbirth for every single one. Some of them even overlapped, so he was experiencing the pain of birthing a child and the intense cravings of his child in the second trimester. He has gotten used to the feeling now, but he does need to be sequestered and guarded whenever another child is born, as it leaves him catatonic for a long time following the birth. He sees it as one of his burdens to bear when it come to having so many children.

~•§•~

If the Human dies before having children, it causes a tidalwave of overblotting that likely cannot be stopped or halted. All the yanderes, platonic or not, will overblot and lose themselves to being feral.

~•§•~

If the Human dies after having their children, there is still the very real possibility of overblot among children and parents. The Human is the Keystone to keeping these monsters and Human-Hybrids calm. Without their soothing aura and addictive nature, the young will turn to one another for comfort. They are nowhere near as addictive as the Human, but they still have that emotional addiction to one another due to their half-Human aura. That aura of theirs soothes them but they will struggle to fully recover without the Human present.

Malleus is overblotting regardless and may even die of a broken heart. Several of the other Harem members feel the same and may suffer the same fate.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Very nice conversion, especially if you love exposed brick. It's a 1906 former carriage house in Norfolk, VA. 2bds, 3ba, 2,348 sq ft, $875k.

I love the brick walls and the fireplace. Putting shelves and cabinets on the sides of the fireplace was a great idea.

I like how they opened this area above the dining room up to make a mezzanine.

Large brand new kitchen, but I wish they would've given the counters and backsplash some color.

Lovely guest powder room.

This building was meticulously remodeled.

I guess that they made the primary this open loft. Love the fireplace and door to the porch.

Right now, it looks so new and perfect, but once it gets lived in, some color, etc., it should look much better.

Original doors down the hall. The doors are from Norfolk's historic Jefferson Hotel.

Brand new bath at the end of the hall.

Bedroom #2 is a home office.

This is very nice- 2 porches on the back of the house.

The fenced in yard is a keystone patio surrounded by a garden.

Over the garage is a huge rooftop deck.

Lovely views of The Hague and Smith Creek.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/425-York-St-Norfolk-VA-23510/79198254_zpid/

[reality-detective]

Where are all those people who were telling us there is no plan and nobody is coming to save us?

I used to be inundated with them telling me I was fool for following Q and it was a psyop to get us all to be complacent and comply with the globalists agenda of total enslavement.

They wanted us to rise up violently and remove the government.

They wanted a civil war.

We didn’t take the bait.

Instead, we are witnessing a complete dismantling of the insurgency in real time. Faster than ever.

How?

Q told us to “follow the money.”

That’s the “keystone.”

Q drop

5

“FOLLOW THE MONEY, it’s the key.

What is Pelosi’s net worth by way of one example. Why coincidentally is her memory apparently going?

Cover for possible future indictment to plead what?

What if John M never had surgery and that was a cover for a future out if needed against prosecution?

Why did Soros transfer his bulk public funds to a NP? Note this doesn’t include massive slush funds that are pulled by several high ups.

Why did Soros’ son have several meetings with Canadian PM and how is that related to Clinton’s?

Can you rely on being able to board a plane and fly away?

Why is MS13 a priority _ nobody got this.

Could people pay such gangs to kill opponents and why / how to insulate against exposure?

The truth is mind blowing and cannot fully be exposed.

Also many are thinking from one point of view, US only, this evil is embedded globally. US is the first domino.

Have faith.”

Following the money will reveal the entire web of corruption going back many decades. It has always been the KEYSTONE.

Q drop

167

POTUS opened the door of all doors.

Expand your thinking.

What is the KEYSTONE?

Q

DOGE was planned for a long time.

By making Elon and his data investigators “Special Government Employees,” it allows them to access every department and agency.

Trump knew that when all of this theft of taxpayers money is proven, the American people will scream for justice.

Trump’s team didn’t just hit the ground running, they have hit the entire insurgency with an offensive “blitzkrieg” that they never expected.

They have called Trump “Hitler” for eight years and now he’s hitting them with another boomerang.

Blitzkrieg

Military tactic calculated to create psychological shock and resultant disorganization in enemy forces through the employment of surprise, speed, and superiority in matériel or firepower.

Aren’t the democrats and RINOS in shock and don’t they look totally disorganized?

Why were they so unprepared for this complete dismantling of their entire corrupt system?

Q told us.

“She was never supposed to lose.”

Here’s a Q drop by Trump himself. Trump is Q+.

Q drop

1834

THEY NEVER THOUGHT SHE WOULD LOSE.

NOW THEY ALL LOSE.

Q+

When Trump won the presidency in 2017, the game was over.

Here’s a portion of

Q drop 2

“POTUS knew removing criminal rogue elements as a first step was essential to free and pass legislation.

Who has access to everything classified?

Do you believe HRC, Soros, Obama etc have more power than Trump? FANTASY.

Whoever controls the office of the Presidecy controls this great land.

They never believed for a moment they (Democrats and Republicans) would lose control.

This is not a R v D battle.

Why did Soros donate all his money recently?

Why would he place all his funds in a RC?

Mockingbird 10.30.17

God bless fellow Patriots.”

Trump chose to play the long game because he knew that just removing all of the insurgency, without first exposing all the corruption, would be a high risk for civil war.

The enemy desperately wanted a civil war because that would help them to escape justice.

This is why some of those big influencers on social media were attacking Q followers.

We “trusted the plan” and they were trying to get the American people to arm themselves and rise up to take on the government.

They failed...

I know a lot of people will call me crazy among other things because they think dates came and went with nothing happening... Well what people failed to understand is those so-called dates, we're NOT dates! They were chapters and paragraphs in the "Law of War Manual." I have posted about it before.

I can't change anybody, change is your job🤔

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

BNHA

something else to pretend by beeclaws

Bakugou apologies. Somehow, this makes things worse.

Retrograde by redrobin1989

Retrograde /ˈretrəˌɡrād/ adjective: directed or moving backwards noun: a degenerate person. verb: go back in position or time.

Seasoned pro heroes Midoriya Izuku and Bakugou Katsuki are mentally transported back to their younger bodies due to a quirk. All they have to do is wait for the quirk to wear off for everything to return to normal. But sometimes the journey is worse than the destination.

DC

dick move by konan_konan

Part 1 of batfam twitter shenanigans

dim trake ☑ @timdrakeceo・52min guys what if dick grayson IS batman. that’s why he thought he was getting cancelled. it all makes sense. 784K Views | 142 Retweets | 52 Quote Tweets | 63.9K Likes

tason jodd ☑ @jsntdd・49min ↳ replying to @timdrakeceo asshole last week you said i was batman 461K Views | 88 Retweets | 16 Quote Tweets | 18.3K Likes

or: a civilian overhears a conversation between batman and nightwing. twitter does what it always does: makes things worse

the rules of playing make believe by hoebiwan

“We can’t squat in some dead guy’s mansion, Damian,” Tim says. Damian, in the midst of packing all their meager belongings into grocery sacks, ignores him.

“Why not?” Jason demands. “It’s not like he’s using it. Finders keepers, losers weepers.”

Or: Homeless!Reverse Robins squat in Wayne Manor.

Nine Worlds

with a winged heart by celebros

"Cliopher. Cliopher. Cliopher." I blink. It's Conju, standing with his hands on my shoulders, and I go to answer him and realize that I am already speaking, babbling, and Franzel is behind him, wringing his hands and looking near tears. I try to focus on what I'm saying, but it's like a stream, light and splashing past me, too quick to hold, not enough to catch, somehow, somehow – A few weeks before the start of the viceroyship ceremonies, Kip finds himself the unwitting recipient of a truth serum.

Original Work

That Frightful Nest Inside the Throat by whereveryouroam

Part 1 of That Dreadful Clockwork Beats Below

Living horses were in vogue among the high and mighty of the great families, but Peter’s new owners had sent proud motorhorses, clicking over in a blur of cogs and wheels, to draw the carriage. It was a very nice carriage - plush and cushioned. He couldn’t help but think this was sinister. Masters didn’t transport slaves in finery. At least, not slaves like him.

Peter’s spent years under the cruelty of masters who want the Monster inside him to become their weapon. He is quite sure that Lord and Lady Arken will be no different.

Percy Jackson

Through rose-colored glasses (the past is perfect) by Mo13

Part 1 of Rose-colored glasses verse

Luke/Percy were in a non-consensual 'relationship' when Percy was twelve. Percy deals with the aftermath, while constantly convincing himself that his relationship with Luke was fine (IT WAS NOT). Mostly cooperates with canon up to the end of Heroes of Olympus.

The Goblin Emperor

A Complete Education by bomberqueen17

Preparing for the Emperor's wedding, everyone has some things they need to learn about.

Emperor's Best Friend by imaginary_golux

Ino and Mireän decide their cousin Maia needs a special present for his twentieth birthday.

a burning coal of kindness by egelantier for Morgan (duckwhatduck)

When Maia is kidnapped by a faction hoping to halt the construction of Wisdom Bridge, Beshelar, gravely injured, is by his side. It might just be their undoing.

The Stairs Beneath the Heart by hermitknut

Part 1 of Keystone

The reign of Varenechibal IV is over; the reign of Edrehasivar VII has begun. The transition, however, is anything but smooth, as the Alcethmeret household navigates grief and worry as well as adapting to the new emperor.

A series of missing scenes and unseen moments centering around the Alcethmeret household over the course of the first few months of Maia's reign.

[ftl-faster-than-life]

Flash Headcanons that are semi-canon: -Iris is autistic and low-empathy and her hyperfixations are crime and horror. -The revenue from the Flash museum and associated tourism and merchandising goes directly to improving Central City and Keystone. -Barry freaking hates cars and driving and that may have been one of his driving reasons for helping to push high speed rail in and out of Central City. Give him a train any day of the week. -To be fully connected to the Speed Force, your human body has to be destroyed. If you do not have a full connection to the Speed Force then you're subject to rapid aging and other issues. Being born a speedster means you are born with a partial connection but something is going to have to solidify it for you. -The warping effects of the Negative Speed Force are a product of self-image. The NSF asks "What does a monster look like?" and then holds up a mirror. Eobard Thawne shows minimal warping because he already views himself as a monster. -The Speed Force can also warp a conduit's physical body if their self-image becomes damaged, because a (fully connected) conduit is not really a human being, they're a collection of energy arranged to look like a human being. -The Speed Force's bonds are emotional and non-linear, meaning if you will be attached to someone one day, you are and have always been tied to them and will always be. To be loved by a speedster is to have always been loved and always be loved. -Iris and Linda sometimes proof-read each other's work but have sworn off making suggestions--they have very different creative visions, so they stick to writing mechanics.

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Existence Value: Why All of Nature is Important Whether We Can Use it or Not

I spend a lot of time around other nature nerds. We’re a bunch of people from varying backgrounds, places, and generations who all find a deep well of inspiration within the natural world. We’re the sort of people who will happily spend all day outside enjoying seeing wildlife and their habitats without any sort of secondary goal like fishing, foraging, etc. (though some of us engage in those activities, too.) We don’t just fall in love with the places we’ve been, either, but wild locales that we’ve only ever seen in pictures, or heard of from others. We are curators of existence value.

Existence value is exactly what it sounds like–something is considered important and worthwhile simply because it is. It’s at odds with how a lot of folks here in the United States view our “natural resources.” It’s also telling that that is the term most often used to refer collectively to anything that is not a human being, something we have created, or a species we have domesticated, and I have run into many people in my lifetime for whom the only value nature has is what money can be extracted from it. Timber, minerals, water, meat (wild and domestic), mushrooms, and more–for some, these are the sole reasons nature exists, especially if they can be sold for profit. When questioning how deeply imbalanced and harmful our extractive processes have become, I’ve often been told “Well, that’s just the way it is,” as if we shall be forever frozen in the mid-20th century with no opportunity to reimagine industry, technology, or uses thereof.

Moreover, we often assign positive or negative value to a being or place based on whether it directly benefits us or not. Look at how many people want to see deer and elk numbers skyrocket so that they have more to hunt, while advocating for going back to the days when people shot every gray wolf they came across. Barry Holstun Lopez’ classic Of Wolves and Men is just one of several in-depth looks at how deeply ingrained that hatred of the “big bad wolf” is in western mindsets, simply because wolves inconveniently prey on livestock and compete with us for dwindling areas of wild land and the wild game that sustained both species’ ancestors for many millennia. “Good” species are those that give us things; “bad” species are those that refuse to be so complacent.

Even the modern conservation movement often has to appeal to people’s selfishness in order to get us to care about nature. Look at how often we have to argue that a species of rare plant is worth saving because it might have a compound in it we could use for medicine. Think about how we’ve had to explain that we need biodiverse ecosystems, healthy soil, and clean water and air because of the ecosystem services they provide us. We measure the value of trees in dollars based on how they can mitigate air pollution and anthropogenic climate change. It’s frankly depressing how many people won’t understand a problem until we put things in terms of their own self-interest and make it personal. (I see that less as an individual failing, and more our society’s failure to teach empathy and emotional skills in general, but that’s a post for another time.)

Existence value flies in the face of all of those presumptions. It says that a wild animal, or a fungus, or a landscape, is worth preserving simply because it is there, and that is good enough. It argues that the white-tailed deer and the gray wolf are equally valuable regardless of what we think of them or get from them, in part because both are keystone species that have massive positive impacts on the ecosystems they are a part of, and their loss is ecologically devastating.

But even those species whose ecological impact isn’t quite so wide-ranging are still considered to have existence value. And we don’t have to have personally interacted with a place or its natural inhabitants in order to understand their existence value, either. I may never get to visit the Maasai Mara in Kenya, but I wish to see it as protected and cared for as places I visit regularly, like Willapa National Wildlife Refuge. And there are countless other places, whose names I may never know and which may be no larger than a fraction of an acre, that are important in their own right.

I would like more people (in western societies in particular) to be considering this concept of existence value. What happens when we detangle non-human nature from the automatic value judgements we place on it according to our own biases? When we question why we hold certain values, where those values came from, and the motivations of those who handed them to us in the first place, it makes it easier to see the complicated messes beneath the simple, shiny veneer of “Well, that’s just the way it is.”

And then we get to that most dangerous of realizations: it doesn’t have to be this way. It can be different, and better, taking the best of what we’ve accomplished over the years and creating better solutions for the worst of what we’ve done. In the words of Rebecca Buck–aka Tank Girl–“We can be wonderful. We can be magnificent. We can turn this shit around.”

Let’s be clear: rethinking is just the first step. We can’t just uproot ourselves from our current, deeply entrenched technological, social, and environmental situation and instantly create a new way of doing things. Societal change takes time; it takes generations. This is how we got into that situation, and it’s how we’re going to climb out of it and hopefully into something better. Sometimes the best we can do is celebrate small, incremental victories–but that’s better than nothing at all.

Nor can we just ignore the immensely disproportionate impact that has been made on indigenous and other disadvantaged communities by our society (even in some cases where we’ve actually been trying to fix the problems we’ve created.) It does no good to accept nature’s inherent value on its own terms if we do not also extend that acceptance throughout our own society, and to our entire species as a whole.

But I think ruminating on this concept of existence value is a good first step toward breaking ourselves out first and foremost. And then we go from there.

Did you enjoy this post? Consider taking one of my online foraging and natural history classes or hiring me for a guided nature tour, checking out my other articles, or picking up a paperback or ebook I’ve written! You can even buy me a coffee here!