Please have a moment of silence for the people who were killed instead of freed when news of emancipation finally reached the furthest corners of the american south.

have another moment for the ledgers, catalogs, and records that were burned and the homes that were destroyed to hide the presence of very much alive and still enslaved people on dozens of plantations and homesteads across the south for decades after emancipation.

and have a third moment for those who were hunted and killed while fleeing the south to find safety across the border, overseas, in the north and to the west.

black people. light a candle, write a note to those who have passed telling them what you have achieved in spite of the racist and intolerant conditions of this world, feel the warmth of the flame under your hand, say a prayer of rememberance if you are religious, place the note under the candle, and then blow it out.

if you have children, sit them down and tell them anything you know about the life of oldest black person you've ever met. it doesn't have to be your own family. tell them what you know about what life was like for us in the days, years, decades after emancipation. if you don't know much, look it up and learn about it together.

This is Juneteenth.

Everything Felix has done is ultimately a long con. All for the goal of gaining true freedom. With the Peacock Miraculous in hand, he’s nearly there. A week of very distasteful and distressing practice (he made the Senti as non-human, as non-intelligent as he could, but still, destroying it at the end made him feel sick) and he mastered his goal. Moving an Amok to a new object while maintaining the Senti-being. No discorporation, no loss of self or memory. Let Gabriel keep the Graham de Vanily rings, they’re just plain metal now. He and his cousin were as free and safe as they could be. In a fit of inspiration, he’d put his own in the safest place he could think of. After all, if an akuma can go into a Miraculous, why not an Amok? The Peacock was his now. And Adrien? Well, he’s always wearing that ring, he never takes it off. That should be safe enough… But, what happens when your soul is roommates with a god?

...and went down a bit of a rabbit hole, found a neat article/blog post about it (did you know these babies are from 1884???!?! ), went on the pronoun dressing room, et cetera...

and idk, I'm very happy with he/him and they/them, I wasn't really interested in searching for any other pronouns (neos are cool but don't do much for me, personally) but thon/thons has kinda snuck up on me and I'm just like

oh??? 👀

so I think I might add these to my collection, as a little treat! I figure they'll probably be more of an online special, at least for the time being, but yeah. kinda doing a test run with 'em. :)

aaaaaaand here's a bonus usage chart thing I nabbed off of the pronouns wiki !!

Please have a moment of silence for the people who were killed instead of freed when news of emancipation finally reached the furthest corners of the american south.

have another moment for the ledgers, catalogs, and records that were burned and the homes that were destroyed to hide the presence of very much alive and still enslaved people on dozens of plantations and homesteads across the south for decades after emancipation.

and have a third moment for those who were hunted and killed while fleeing the south to find safety across the border, overseas, in the north and to the west.

black people. light a candle, write a note to those who have passed telling them what you have achieved in spite of the racist and intolerant conditions of this world, feel the warmth of the flame under your hand, say a prayer of rememberance if you are religious, place the note under the candle, and then blow it out.

if you have children, sit them down and tell them anything you know about the life of oldest black person you've ever met. it doesn't have to be your own family. tell them what you know about what life was like for us in the days, years, decades after emancipation. if you don't know much, look it up and learn about it together.

This is Juneteenth.

Someone: how many kids do you have?

Bruce: legally, biologically, or emotionally?

The answer is 42 children

Key

bold = the "main" kids

* = at some point this timeline and/or universe was "erased" from existence

** = ambiguous universe (ex: was it a alt timeline or just a dream?)

Legally

aka adopted and/or fostered at some point in time

Dick Grayson

Jason Todd

Tim Drake

Cassandra Cain

Duke Thomas

Jarro

Alina Shelley (Batman: The Dark Prince Charming)

Lance Bruner* (Earth-One)

Turner Hayes (Gotham Knights)

Kal-El (Batman: Last Knight on Earth)

Roger Burnim Jr.* (Brave and the Bold #98)

Nyesha Burroughs Wayne** (Batman '89)

Stepchildren

Jackie Napier (mother: Harley Quinn) (Batman: White Knight)

Bryce Napier (mother: Harley Quinn) (Batman: White Knight)

Stephanie Trevor (mother: Diana) (Batman/Superman Generations)

Biologically

Mother = Talia al Ghul

Damian Wayne

Athanasia al Ghul (Injustice)

Tallant Wayne (Batman: League of Batman)

Ibn al Xu'ffasch (Earth-22)

Unnamed Son

Mother = Selina Kyle (Catwoman)

Helena Wayne (Earth-2)

Aion**

Bruce Wayne Jr.** (Batman ’89)

Tivali Wayne** (Batman ’89)

Mother = Diana (Wonder Woman)

Kull (Dark Nights: Death Metal)

"Batman" (JLA #90)

"Batwoman" (JLA #90)

Mother = Other

Bruce Wayne Jr. (mother: Kathy Kane) (Earth-154)

Bruce Wayne Jr. (mother: Unnamed Wife) (Earth-3839)

Kiki Wayne* (mother: Helen)

Genetically Engineered

Terry McGinnis (Batman Beyond)

Matt McGinnis (Batman Beyond)

Emotionally

aka other people Bruce has mentored/gotten attached to

Barbara Gordon

Stephanie Brown

Harper Row

Cullen Row

Carrie Kelly

Rui Aramiya (Batman and the Justice League)

Barbara Wilson (Batman and Robin (1997) movie)

Drake Winston (Batman ’89)

Mia “Maps” Mizoguchi

No. My main concern with someone who is schizophrenic is about them harming themselves, not anyone else. What the media has done to the public perception of ppl w psychosis is v damaging.

So

Y'all know the hit show Brooklyn Nine-Nine, right? And how they have a thing called a "Halloween Heist" episode that happens every season or so, right?

Good. Because that's all I know from the show. Anyway! Seeing clips on YouTube about it got me thinking

What if the Justice League did something similar? Just for fun in their down time while they're not out saving the world or helping little old ladies cross the street. Maybe some members would do it. But what would be a good incentive or prize to motivate them to play?

How about each member pools in what they could give as a prize?

Superman promises to gift fresh baked cookies by his mom

Black Canary promises doing their share of monitor duty

Other members promise other cool things, favors, etc. A good chunk of members are interested in playing, but not all. Batman still refuses to play, calling it childish

But

When it's Captain Marvel's turn to state what he's offering on the table for the winner, everyone's heads turn and can't believe what they just heard. Captain Marvel promised that he would reveal his secret identity to whoever wins.

Everyone is in an uproar and signing up to play. Batman included. He even gets his batfam to join the game. A lot of other members, too, are getting their sidekicks, friends and prodigies into the game.

Captain Marvel, the most extroverted and yet most private member of the league has never offered any information of his private life in the past four years he's been on the team, and now there's finally a chance to learn more about him

THROUGH A GAME?!?!

The Team knocks out a security guard and steals their radio. The team mimic can perfectly replicate the knocked out guard’s voice. They get caught because they pronounced the name of the company correctly.

The Team disables an alarm. The only way to do this is to rip it out of the wall and disassemble it until it physically can’t make noise anymore. This very loud process is clearly heard by the posted security guard nearby, who rolls their eyes and text their supervisor that the logistics contractors are fooling with the alarms again.

The Team breaks into the facility at night. There they meet a single security guard who is chanting potential names for NPCs in their DnD campaign out loud while they do their patrols. They encounter a fire extinguisher. They pause in their chanting to check that it is properly charged and to apply a sticker that reads, “Anal use only”. This guy is disgustingly good at their job. There’s no way around it, they’re going to catch you. And you’re going to have to deal with the fact that you’ve been had by someone who has a supply of stickers that say “Anal use only” and who unironically wanted to name their NPC shopkeep Mammogrammus.

The Team attempts to bribe a security guard. This is its own post but know there’s no way in hell that would work.

The Team breaks into the high security room and disables all the alarms. Security control sends several guards to investigate why there are no alarms going off.

The Team attempts to break into the high security room but can’t because it’s randomly decided not to let anyone at all in today.

The Team steals a keycard with “””””unlimited””””” access to the facility and gets caught because the computer system that manages keycards randomly revokes access for no reason.

Training consisted of a number of retired high ranking New York State Troopers very earnestly trying to convince a room of “dudes who desperately wanted to be a cop but couldn’t jump even that low hurdle” and also “one increasingly incredulous 19 year old girl who could only hear a loud high pitched note in one ear because she stood too close to her amps at the punk show last night” not to bring swords, shurukens, or butterfly knives into work.

We went over the “do not bring in your own weapons” lecture for the majority of day 1 of training. Day 2 was also “do not bring in your own weapons” for a lot of the day, then we moved onto “identifying the different types of fire extinguisher,” and wrapped up the day with “wasp stings.” Well, actually during “wasp stings” we had a sidebar when this one guard who looked like Ben Franklin raised his hand and shared that he, personally, took care of wasps by blowing their nests up with improvised gasoline-based explosives, so technically we wrapped up the day with “do not bring in your own weapons even if those weapons are to harm a wasp.”

Day 3 was a half day, where we reviewed everything we’d learned about no weapons, fire extinguishers, and wasps, and then we took a written test, which I finished with a perfect score in three minutes so Sargeant Minetti made me grade everyone else’s. After that, I was a full ass security guard; I picked up my fake cop uniform, badge(!!!), tiny notebook, strapped a walkie to my belt, and was given my assignment. My beat was very very literally the most public facing one that existed; while most of my colleagues were posted at gates that might never get opened for the entire summer, I had “the wholeass quarter mile of pavement abutting the chain link fence that separated the public from the ponies.” My responsibilities were simple:

1. tell people to move their rolling coolers out of the fire lane

2. take people with wasp stings to the nurse

and oh yeah

3. every time a clerk at a betting window in my section accumulated more than $10,000 dollars in cash, I had to escort them for ½ of a mile through the incredibly dense crowd of drunk people, any of whom might be interested in stealing more than $10,000 dollars, and get the money safely into the giant vault.

I remember the very first run i made. The betting clerk looked at me, the 19 year old responsible for protecting both them and $10,000. I looked back at him through the mirrored aviators that I’d bought at a gas station for 5 bucks because I thought it was very very funny and good fake cop cosplay. My walkie hissed ominously.

“…Uh, so if someone tries to take the money, what are you going to do?” He asked.

“Well, I get paid 12 bucks an hour, so… nothing.” I responded. “How about you?”

We quickly arrived at an understanding.

Two of the guards from my training group got fired that summer for bringing in their own weapons, and at least one of them had both a butterfly knife and at least one shuruken. Many more dropped out as they discovered that they would not actually be doing Die Hard shit. As for me, I did literally nothing to prevent crime all summer, but I also halfheartedly cleared a path through the crowd at the front of a very sad “St. Patrick’s Day In July” parade, which made me enough of a success story that they actually called me unprompted to ask if I’d come back the next year… with one caveat.

See, the next year I returned as a weathered veteran with a spotless disciplinary record, so they gave me three hours of additional training to get a certification to become a peace officer. As a result, from ages 20-23 (when my license expired) I had the same legal powers of arrest as a police officer.

Me. They just gave me that.

Also you can buy my Ref folder here 

"No," he really hopes they'll attribute his racing heartbeat and sweating face to nervousness and anxiety, and not because he's blatantly lying through his teeth.

"Who is he then?" He's sure that if he could see his face, Batman would be raising an eyebrow.

Or maybe not, maybe he's just as expressionless without his mask.

"Well..." Ok, Billy. You can do this. You've lied to police officers for harder things to hide. You have the excuse of magic this time. You can do it. "I guess you could say he's... My dad...?" That's surely not going to come back to bite him in the ass anytime soon.

Fuck Batman and fuck his face recognition software.

"You don't sound too sure yourself." Dammit Supes, you're supposed to be on his side, not poking holes in his story!

"It's kinda complicated. It's magic bullshit." He can feel the judgemental stares at his swearing, but he's freaking out too much to care about what the Justice League thinks of his politeness.

"Basically," he continues, not giving them the chance of asking questions again, "think about it this way. He's the one with the powers, and- and nothing actually happens to me if he gets hurt." Ok, technical truth. He can do this.

"So do you... Like... Switch places then?"

"Yes, that's exactly what happens." He thanks Superman mentally.

"What happens to you then?"

"Uuuhmmm." THINK THINK THINK. "It's like- well, basically... Only one of us can exist on any give plane of existence." Are those words too big for an 11 years old to know? Possibly. But he does learn a thing or two by being Marvel and constantly being surrounded by adults who spoke like they came out of a dictionary.

Or a court case.

"So you go... Where?" 'Flash if you don't stop asking questions,' Billy mentally threatens, 'I will make sure there is no food for you at the Watchtower or so help me Gods. I'll become the biggest annoyance you've ever had the displasure of dealing with'

"The Rock of Eternity." Probably his best lie yet.

"And it's.... Safe for you in the... Rock?" Diana, you beautiful, wonderful woman. Why would you do this to him?

Billy nods. "Yes, only we can go there. Well, and people we allow inside. But we don't do that." And Freddy doesn't count.

Neither does Darla.

And Mary.

And Pedro.

Eugene.

None of the rest of his family counts, let's leave it at that.

"As long as the Champion of Magic is there to protect it, it's the safest place one could be in"

'If you strong enough to resist the temptations of the embodiment of the Seven Deadly Sins, that is' he didn't say. He thought it, though.

Gosh he hopes Martian Man Hunter hasn't been reading his mind this whole time.

That would be awkward, to say the least.

"But why are you two like this- what happened?" Well Flash is not going to eat in the tower for a good while.

Billy fidgets. One last lie. Can he 'technically the truth' his way out of this one?

"Well... Marvel is not... Really my dad. He's more like...." C'mon words, c'mon. "His ghost or-or his... His legacy! Yeah. And a few years ago- there's a Wizard involved. We got the blessings of the Gods and- I don't actually know the details." Mostly because the details don't actually exists.

But they don't need to know that.

The other heroes share a glace.

He knows they're not happy about the whole situation. He doesn't even want to imagine what they'd say if they knew he was lying.

Vaguely, he remembers about a conversation Robin and Superboy had. Something that Nightwing and Hood brought on. Something about Batman and his tendency of pulling children under his wing.

Suddenly, Billy becomes self conscious of the holes in his clothes, the dirt-stained jeans, his hair that he clearly cut himself, the bruises and scrapes under the fabric that the other heroes can't even see.

He must really look like something alright.

"Can we talk to the Captain, kid?" He's surprised that throughout all of this none of them had even asked his name.

The Justice League!

Everyone is deaged to right before they got their powers or skills but they keep all their memories. Barry is right before the lightning strike, Clark is when he was a kid and his powers hadn't developed, Billy is before the Wizard hit him with a train and gave him magic, Bruce is before he became Batman, Victor is before he got his body parts replaced, Hal and the other Lanterns is before they got the rings, and Diana is the only exception and she stays the same.

"You were this young when you got your powers?" Barry asked Billy, eyes wide. Billy shifted and but his lip.

"I mean, yeah..."

"But you were only around the past two years," Diana said. "We're you somewhere for that time?"

"No," Billy sighed, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. It felt awkward in his Champion form.

They had all been deaged to right before they became heroes, however their memories remained in tact. Nilly was one of the last people to get their powers back, him having to go through the trial of Shazam once again.

Bruce, Vic, and Barry are all teenagers. Bruce won't let anyone else hold statue!Diana

Vic is... Okay. I'm sorry. Vic is holding his own hands and weeping quietly, breaking everyone's hearts

Hal is like 25 and the only adult in the room lmao. He's pretty okay with being in his prime again but is low key panicking over Vic and not making anything better

Clark is a sturdy lil squirt of a twelve-year-old. He's stronger than Barry, the human bean pole who has never hauled bales of hay in his life. He's the only one allowed to hold statue!Diana if Bruce can't. He's also a bit tearful bc he's a sympathetic crier:(

Then they all turn to the Actual Real Life Baby, Billy Batson (currently squeezing Vic around the middle)

"You were that young when you got your powers?" Barry asked, eyes wide and voice reedy with youth

Billy:

Billy, internally: don't tell them I still am don't tell them I still am)

Billy: "DID YOU KNOW I CAN GIVE OTHER PEOPLE POWERS"

Bruce: what

Clark: but not anymore, right? Seems like you're avoiding the question

Billy, backing away quickly: my powers actually come from gods not me sooo SHAZAM!

And they all hear Billy scream as though dying as lightning strikes—

(Vic surges to his feet. "CAP—!"

Hal's like, oh shit I lost one already

Barry grabs Clark to hold him back but is nearly pulled off his feet

Bruce is curled protectively over statue!Diana)

—then Captain Marvel is born again.

-----------

Bruce, seeing that Billy can turn into an adult at will and mentally reviewing every interaction he's ever had with him: He's been a kid this whole time.