#something that I Also once aspired to do full-time

[theladygazingatemptiness]

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[n0tamused]

Jiyaaaan request coming your way~

While training his soldiers, one of them accidentally calls him 'Dad'. This leads to the reader teasing them but Jiyan teases back by calling them 'Mom' (or the gender neutral for it?)

(Was reading tv tropes and Jiyan had the 'A Father to his Men' tropes in his character tab lol)

A/n: Anon this request was so sweet, thank you sm for sending it in! Jiyan the father of an army fr.. I do hope I executed it well. Enjoy!

Content: Jiyan x F!Reader, fluff and playful stuff, nothing more

The morning sun had long since shifted its axis towards the center of the sky, blazing down through cotton clouds that sailed the azure skies. Below them, in the open fields, west of the main base cacophony sounded, consisting of commands, groans and other sounds of effort as the Midnight Ranger performed their training. And today Jiyan had come to overlook the session himself, although it wouldn’t be the first time. He was often so preoccupied with tasks at the front lines that he didn’t have the time to be leading drills too frequently, but when he did get the chance to do so he would take it. While it wasn’t a full reprieve from the battle, it was still a stark contrast to the grotesque and twisted fates he’d see daily on the battlefield.

Jiyan was noticeably more disheveled by the end, hair messy and hanging in strands and clinging to his sweaty forehead, hands on his hips as his voice rose to meet all ears present. You have just been passing by, helping carry supplies that just came in, and loading old and empty boxes back to be refilled in the city. For once there was no rush that would make your legs ache or your lungs hurt, allowing you all the precious time to bask in the views, the soft chatter and, of course, your dear lover.

The sun caught his figure and formed a golden aura around him, his skin glistening, and you couldn’t help but take a seat at one of many big boxes at the side of the training grounds after you had finished your task. In passing you caught a few looks, and a few smiles of the soldiers you knew from before. They looked much  more lively, despite the rigorous training they just went through. It made your heart warm seeing them in better spirits, wishing nothing more than to see them prevail and be happy. And just as you had recognized a bunch of familiar faces did Jiyan conclude his small speech, about to dismiss everyone with advice of rest hanging on every word. He had spotted you from the start, when you were going by with supplies in arms and soon he’d have a chance to speak to you too, he thought.

“General Jiyan! General Jiyan, a word or two- if I may?” 

It was a voice of one of the new recruits, Jiyan noted as he gazed at the face of the youth, a boy of twenty or so years by the looks of it, and eyes full of curiosity and admiration. He had come up to Jiyan just as he had turned towards you, prompting him to stay rooted in his spot a little longer. A few more young rangers came up behind the recruit, sharing the same curiosity but also being aware of whatever the recruit had on his mind.

“Yes? Is there something you need?” Jiyan questioned, looking at the young man. From his peripheral vision he spotted you moving down from the boxes and joining his side, staying quiet after a short word of greeting towards his Rangers, but your presence felt like a cool breeze under this sun, and he appreciated it all the more.

“I just wanted to say how great today’s training session was, we learned so much more than we did with our drill sergeant” he praised, smiling up at Jiyan all the while, “And I just wanted to ask whether or not you’ll be leading our training session tomorrow as well? Or any other day that is, we would really benefit from your teaching. I mean, you've seen it all for yourself at the front lines!"

The other few with him nodded along, prompting a small smile of pride to form on your face from seeing their fascination with Jiyan. To them he was everything they aspired to be - strong, enduring, tough but not lacking kindness or knowledge. There were times where they were scared to approach him, not knowing how he’d react to their questions, but from observing his interactions with others they warmed up to the idea and plucked all their courage. 

A polite smile curled up on Jiyan’s face as he regarded the youth with gentle golden eyes. His presence as the drill sergeant today wasn’t due to his availability, but a simple coincidence and necessity to fill the shoes of their drill sergeant that had been injured due to Tacet Discords, and Jiyan just happened to be able to be there. “Ah, you have my thanks, rangers. If a replacement for your drill sergeant does not arrive tomorrow and I am not required to be at the front lines, then I will be leading your training tomorrow as well” he told them, which pleased them greatly to hear.  “Although I’m sure Sargent Jin’xi has much more to teach you, something much more important for your sound development in this profession. You cannot take his method lightly. He has seen everything I have, as well. His knowledge is as valuable to your growth, and even more so than mine. You need the good foundation he can give you” He was aware of how confusing or hard it could be to listen to Jin’xi, as the sergeant had quite the eye for details and slow progress in lessons due to his meticulous nature - but that also made him all the better for his station. He was observant and could pluck out bad behavior and mistakes like weeds, and that is better to be done here, than in the middle of battle.

“We know, general, but sergeant Jin’xi is just so hard on us.. sometimes it really seems like he has no limit” one of the women standing behind voiced, earning a look from Jiyan that spoke of his understanding but also his disagreement with the subtle message they were trying to send - please, replace sergeant Jin’xi, or, save us.

“Yeah! One time I accidentally mixed up the weapons in the storage room and he had me do everything on my own again, saying how such mistakes can’t happen on the front lines, how it all means life or death” the first young man said, brushing his fingers through his hair and sighing. “I understand it, but we just got here..” he added and looked at his comrades. 

What was supposed to be a short chit-chat turned swiftly into a gossip galore about Jin’xi. Had Jiyan been any different from the man he was currently, he would’ve scolded them, taken offense at how they spoke about his colleague, but he was in their shoes once, always on edge around the higher ups, and he wished not to bring that same unease to them. He didn’t fail to remind them to not speak like this in front of everyone, and to respect sergeant Jin’xi when he does eventually return, and they gave him their word.

The first young man that approached looked at Jiyan after their discussion, both hands on his hips and looking more relaxed. “We won’t forget that, I promise on my last name! Still, we appreciate your kindness, and one more thing dad- I MEAN- GENERAL!” His entire face crumbled into a look of terror, and all eyes of the group shot to him, looks of surprise and amusement appearing before several of them erupted into laughter after taking a wary glance at Jiyan - who was not offended.

“General Jiyan! Oh god- I apologize, general, I don’t know where that came from-” he stammered, shaking his head and his hands, face flushed from sheer embarrassment. More choked words tumbled out of his mouth, desperate to excuse himself and forget about this. 

Jiyan can’t help but chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching in a failed attempt to hold back his smile. “At ease, recruit. You have not done any crime” he nods at the other, his eyes softening and not showing any sign that he’s about to dish out some punishment - that’d be ridiculous. 

You can’t help but crack a laugh too, covering your lips with your hand as to stifle the sound, but your mirth was evident in your eyes. “Have I missed a chapter? I didn’t know you had kids, general Jiyan” you teased, earning a few shocked but heavily amused looks from the group. Giggles erupted once more, all stifled as they waited for Jiyan to respond to the quip.

Jiyan turns his head to look at you, his eyes boring into yours and questioning your intentions - you can read the thoughts going through your head and your smile only widens in a silent call to a challenge of wits. He didn’t expect you to say something like that, but he could only huff, hiding his amusement under an abrupt guise of confusion.

“Kids?.. Why, I had hoped you’d recognize your own kids, Miss (L/N)” he shot back instantly, making your jaw drop at his rebuttal, a gasp flying past your mouth. “General” you said, accusations plenty heard in your tone as the atmosphere melted into one of jest and play.

Many eyes flickered between you and him, taking in the easy way you conversed with one another.

“Yes? What’s the surprise for? The recruits look up to you too, if you fail to notice. You can confirm with them right now” he is shifting the spotlight to you, and the recruits are quick to jump in too. “It is right, miss. Personally I haven’t been around you for long, no longer than I interacted with the General, but you two are alike, you treat us new ones with a firm but kind hand” a young woman said, smiling at you, and you feel your heart climb into your throat. 

“Can we really be surprised, they’re always together too-” "Aren't they married?" Whispering is heard amidst the group, and Jiyan looks amidst the faces to catch the one that said that but fails to do so, or refuses to weed out the individuals, and his eyes go back to you to catch your response. It’d be a lie to say your relationship with him was a secret, everyone knew there was something deeper between the two of you, something you didn’t show in public due to the war and status, but it was undeniably there. Still, hearing it loud and clear like this was like a splash of cold water. Despite their chatter, the group remained respectful, sweet in their musings.

“Ah, quiet, I do not want to hear it. This is about you, General”

“Ah, don’t run from it now. You’re the one that started this” he commented, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest. “Anyway, you’re all dismissed. I have a word with.. mother over here. Off you all go. I will see you all in the morning for another training drill. Get some rest” he speaks to the group, gazing upon their faces, only to see how they looked at him with some sort of childhood wonder, and that’s when he realized he must be flushed too. A sheepish smile bloomed on his face. 

“Alright! Awesome-” “Yes, sir!"

“Have a good day, General! And you too, Miss!” 

He watched them leave, bidding them all farewell, and when he turned to face you again he saw you pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding away the biggest smile of the day, the apples of your cheeks redder than before. The Midnight Rangers were undeniably close in connection, having spent so many nights and days huddled together for warmth or laughs or protection, and this small exchange only warmed Jiyan’s heart, to witness how positively they felt around him - and you. 

“Didn’t think we’d become parents so soon. Have we gotten that old already?” Jiyan commented, tone softer in a way he only addressed you when you were alone, and there was no one near the training grounds to hear you.

“Oh, shut up, Jiyan-” you playfully snapped, biting your lip as you looked up at him, stifling a giggle. “You are unbelievable!”

“Hm? Did you expect me to stay quiet today or ignore your quips?” he smiled bigger and you have to admire the little dimples in his cheeks as the smile reaches his eyes, making them squint at you softly.

“I don’t know what I expected, but your response was certainly the last thing I expected” you replied and shook your head, as if that would shake off the redness tinting your skin, imitating him now by crossing your arms. The two of you were looking at each other, wordlessly admiring your red faces while throwing these little quips at one another. 

“Ah.. you’ll get used to it, dearest wife”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[pomefioredove]

okay after reading all the goth hc, I gotta ask. how do you think the guys would react (any of them but preferred Floyd and Idia ) to playing them goth music/show them a trad goth outfit/makeup look (suprise them maybe? For example: I hc Leona to just have the least slay music taste to mankind (beastmankind?) so you play him- idk let’s say Lebanon Hanover, and he’s like “wtf is this herbivore?” But then he kinda gets into it. no pressure to write for it btw!

-✨♥️✨

ANON I was literally thinking about making a post like this a few days before this ask... you have my heart. I'm doing a full post

summary: nrc boys and goth type of post: headcanons characters: nrc students additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, half-headcanons half-x reader author's note: I'm assuming that goth as a subculture and a music scene already exists in this world. this post is also mostly about the music scene

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Riddle is essentially a baby bat

he's like, two bad life choices away from going full victorian goth at any given moment

he flat out refuses to listen to anything "vulgar" but secretly adores the dark, poetic side to goth

he's also morbidly obsessed with death, being a sad victorian boy and the child of two doctors. it works

as much as I hate to say it, Ace starts out as the kind of guy to say he wants a "goth gf" on multiple occasions

he proudly announces it to everyone at an unbirthday party once and Riddle almost kills him for being annoying for interrupting

thinks the music is too sad

...but he mellows out eventually (your influence)

both Deuce and Trey are not particularly interested

(Deuce leaned into punk music as a preteen but has since "given it up" because it's too unruly for an aspiring honors student, in his opinion)

Cater inexplicably already knows a lot about goth

won't talk about it unless you bring it up first but if you play him something semi-popular

he'll be like "oh yeah I know that one"

he has a few songs on his playlist he listens to when he's alone

is a goth magnet himself. pulls many hot goths. no one knows how

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jack is also not really into it. not his thing

however I can see him secretly being into emo

make of that what you will

and Ruggie will never pass you the aux again. he calls it "halloween music"

Leona acts thoroughly uninterested for a long time

like, he'll listen to the music you give him, but doesn't really say whether he likes it or not

says he doesn't care about the scene (thinks it's too pretentious)

and pretends to be annoyed when you give him more song recs

but he gets into it. he starts listening on his own

he has a definite preference for gothic rock

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jade is already goth (to me at least)

and very eager to talk about his favorite bands

loves giving recommendations

apparently the coral sea has its own goth subgenres and bands, which sound... much different from land ones

Floyd will listen (has listened, thanks to his brother) but he doesn't particularly care

he much prefers the aesthetic, it reminds him of home

...being that he's from the deep sea, where it's dark and cold

the flowy, dark, elegant looks are just enchanting to him. he can't keep his eyes off it

Azul couldn't be bothered

he's willing to learn, but isn't a huge fan of the general... strangeness

(he doesn't really understand why anyone would want to be perceived as strange in the first place)

and the music is so unmelodic to him

"that was just a man moaning and a gate creaking for seven minutes" and then he bans you from his office

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim literally listens to goth already

I don't know how to explain it but I know he does

it's so funny because he never ever dresses goth or acts stereotypically goth but every once in a while he'll be like "who wants to hear my new favorite song? :D" and it's like, alien sex fiend. and no one can say anything about it

Jamil is an appreciator

depending on what you show him, he could really get into the lyricism and general mood

...if only because he finds goth dancing absolutely mesmerizing

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rook is goth

he only dresses the part sometimes, but he's always been very passionate about the poetic elements of the music

...really into french coldwave

in terms of fashion he leans romantic goth

it just makes sense to me. he could find beauty in absolutely anything, and the dark and macabre are no exception

will talk your ear off about his favorite bands if you give him the chance

Vil is really more into the style than the music

he's dabbled in a little bit of everything; trad goth, romantic goth, medieval goth. he pulls all of it off

honestly, if anything, the gothic style compliments his features and tastes more than anything

he has such a respect for the subculture and the dedication that goes into the visual elements

Epel doesn't get it. sorry 😔

he will listen to the music you recommend because he cares about you, but he just doesn't like it

he's in the same boat as Azul. "was that a slide whistle?"

absolutely baffled, but he likes you and it's a small price to pay for your happiness

(and he thinks the fashion is too androgynous for his tastes)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I feel like Idia also used to think he wanted a goth until he saw the e-girl vs goth discourse, freaked out, then spent two weeks reading about different subcultures

...still wants a goth partner

but now he actually knows what that means

will listen to any music you give him out of respect (fear) and won't say anything about whatever weird taxidermy-related hobby you have

he's surrounded by death all the time anyway who cares

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you could get Silver to listen to the cure's entire discography and he'd come out of it really enjoying just like heaven and nothing else

it's just... not for him

(plus the slower songs put him to sleep)

Malleus somehow hasn't even heard of goth as a genre when you approach him

he is. a little disappointed it's not music about the architecture style

but he still warms up to it, especially as someone who enjoys finding the beauty in the dark and misunderstood

you can fix him. you can goth him.

Sebek joins only after everyone in Diasomnia gets in on it with you (he doesn't like being left out)

he loves it because silver doesn't and malleus does

peepaw Lilia is an old goth

he was around when the music scene started, and he also remembers the literature movement it was named after, and the popular architecture style that was named after, and...

...you get it

still, he's always pleased to learn about new bands and subgenres and styles and the like

could and will talk about it for hours and hours with you

he dresses the part, too

we love him

[solkara]

❛ 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘 , alicent hightower and rhaenyra targaryen ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , as the eldest and only heir to viserys targaryen naturally you were born with more responsibilities than you could count your sister being one of them

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , alicent hightower x male! targaryen! reader x rhaenyra targaryen

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , omg this took forever to write but I think it was worth it hehe also this is quickly becoming one of my fav headcannons to write so def gonna do at least 2-3 more parts so stay tuned !!

previous part , house of the dragon masterlist

⌗ after the death of your mother everything around you seemed to change. you stopped fooling around with rhaenyra. instead you decide to throw yourself into your duties to ignore the pain you feel. which she did not enjoy. though you couldn't bring yourself to care. your father also declared that he would not wed another. which was a silent relief for you as you did not wish to play house with a woman who wasn't your mother. but your father also said he was looking to find you a match. which brought attention to you for all the wrong reasons.

⌗ the following weeks were nothing short of painful. as women from all over the realm flocked to king's landing to throw themselves at you. in an attempt that you would take to them and make them your wife. your future queen. but truth be told none of them sparked your interest. which annoyed your father and delighted your sister. who had yet to convince your father to marry you to her. much to your relief.

⌗ now here you were. wandering the hallways in the dead of night to clear your head. you had expected there to be no one else awake at this hour but it seemed you were wrong. "my prince?" and there stood alicent. who you had not spoken to since the funeral. as it seemed that whenever the two of you were within distance of each other rhaenyra would step in and drag the other girl away.

⌗ "alicent what are you doing awake at this hour?" you asked slightly surprised to see the hightower girl wandering around at this hour. "I could not find sleep my prince" and for a slight moment. you wondered what could be troubling such a seemingly unshakeable woman. but you decided not to press the matter.

⌗ the silence lay over the two of you like a blanket. comfortable and soft. as the two of you ended up sitting next to each other on the floor. until you decided to speak. and from their the two of you spoke freely with each. freer than perhaps either of you had been before. as you two talked about everything and anything.

⌗ sharing everything from deepest secrets and fears to future plans and aspirations. and though this was the first full conversation the two of you had it felt like you had known each other forever. and it showed during the following moons as the two of you spent more and more time together. much to rhaenyra's dismay. but not even she could get in the way. as it was clear between you that the chemistry you shared with alicent was nothing short of electric.

⌗ and your father began to notice too. as one day after a small council meeting once again brought up the conversation of suitors and marriage. much to your annoyance. "and what are your thoughts on the lady alicent?" he asked watching your facial expressions very closely. as your features softened at the mention of the girl you had become so close with.

⌗ "what of her?" you asked unsure why your new friend was being brought into the conversation. "I think she would make a good wife for you as I can't help but notice the two of you have gotten closer in recent moons" you couldn't help but look at you father with a look nothing short of bewilderment.

⌗ alicent. as your wife. the thought had never crossed your mind but now it certainly had. as you wouldn't deny that she was beautiful as well as polite and kind. to you at least. you would be honoured to have her as your wife. but the last thing you wanted to do was force her into something she does not want. as her heart may already be taken by another. the thought made your heart clench slightly. as your chest was filled with an unfamiliar feeling. jealousy.

⌗ "I have talked to her father and he thinks it will be a wonderful match what do you think my boy?" your father asked once again. "may I have time to think about it father?" to which the king nodded. and with that you left to see alicent. to know that if this union were to happen. would she be happy with it or not. if she would hate you for the rest of your life or not. and you prayed to every god that ever existed that the answer was no. as the thought of her hating you. hurt in ways you didn't know you could be.

⌗ arriving in front of alicent's room. you were short of breath. knocking on the door. you enter once you hear a small "come in" from the other side. entering with haste you were then stopped in your tracks by the beauty that had been your rock for the last moons. the only person you felt understood you truly. "what's the matter is something wrong?"

⌗ "our fathers want to marry us off to each other" to which the girls expression went from concerned to shocked. "and what did you say?" alicent asked her eyes shining with something familiar. hope. "nothing yet I want to marry you but I came here because I wanted to ask you if you wanted this as I will not force you into a marriage you do not want beacuse I do not want you to hate me" you blurted out. now barely holding back tears.

⌗ approaching you quickly alicent cupped your face with her soft dainty hands. "I could never hate you" she said looking you dead in the eyes. "I too wish to marry you and it would make me the happiest woman on earth to be able to call myself your wife" and with that the two of you crash your lips onto each other in a passionate kiss. and once you broke apart the two of you walked hand in hand to your fathers to tell them the good news. to bad not everyone could be happy for you.

[fluideli123]

I've watched the DP&W movie twice in theaters and three plus times on a pirated site, and I wanted to grant my analysis on Wade and Logan's relationship that not only respects Vanessa--because Vanessa was literally Wade's Soulmate until shit hit the fan and you can pry that fact from my cold dead hands. But also explains how Logan and Wade actually represent a a-spec experience and relationship that I feel like no one has really gotten into. Am I saying they're a-spec? No. But that doesn't mean queer relationships that are fairly normal in a-spec spaces doesn't mean they don't exist outside of them as well.

First of all, the only two reasons I believe Vanessa and Wade broke up was 1) Wade went back in time to save Vanessa and he told her after his usual routine of jokes and lies and 2) Wade finally believed he could be something more, a hero, only to be turned down by the people who are known for their heroism, leaving him lost.

I genuinely believe Vanessa had a hard time taking in that knowledge, but knowing Wade and everything they've been through she would get through that like the badass she is and work through it using her plans A-Z, as she always does. But I think to really stop that woman from continuing to start a family with Wade like she wanted to in Deadpool 2, is if Wade was no longer within the right mindset to do so.

Deadpool 1 introduced Wade as someone who believed he was a bad guy who got paid to fuck up worse guys, he refused the term hero, and the moment he even tried to reach for something selfless. An act that would hopefully spare Vanessa from the pain of cancer, it all got fucked up and he got turned into a monster. Someone he deemed even lesser than he was before. So far gone and completely removed from what he was loved for (his looks and personality, but how could his personality stand alone when he looked so ugly? As ugly as he always felt on the inside?)

So he turned to what he's always known: Tracking people down and making them pay. In his mind this only confirms that he's a monster, he isn't deserving of Vanessa, of anyone. Which is why he finds comfort in Blind Al, a woman who will only have to deal with his personality and not be able to see how ugly he actually is. Symbolism for showing only half of himself and not him in his entirety (not that he can hide it from her, she's too wise, knowledgeable, caring, and knows Wade better than he knows himself at this point.)

Eventually, he finishes his hunt and is still loved despite what had transpired. Vanessa still chose him, still loved him. So maybe despite how ugly he is, he can still be loved. This grounded him, solidified his self worth, have him such stability that he had a thriving relationship with Vanessa that they were SO ready to start a family, aspired to live that dream. Another act of selfishness. Only to, once again, be met by pain. Get his dream taken away, once again resorting to what he knows: revenge.

Wade wants to be a hero? He gets forcefully mutated. Wade wants a family? Vanessa gets killed. Both are immediately solved by death, but that self-loathing and sickening hatred towards himself do nothing to cure that same confirmation he had once thought he got over: That he wasn't a monster, he could be loved, be something else.

So of course Vanessa is who, even in death, looks him in the eyes and tells him he cares, he has always cared. He cares so deeply about the people in his life he meets who unconditionally love him for him as time passes, despite all his flaws.

Wade wants to be a hero? Colossus believes he can be. Wade wants to save the 13-year-old abused kid? Vanessa knows he can. He saves lives by sacrificing himself. He scarified his comfort to show Vanessa the full truth of his ugliness, he sacrificed his life for Russel to give him a better life. Maybe he isn't a complete monster, maybe he can believe again. He can be selfish, he can be reckless. So he goes back and saves more people. Heroes do that. They save the people they love. You don't hold the whole world on your shoulders, no, like Miles learned in ATSV you think of one person of the few people you want to fight against the world to protect. And he did just that.

With Vanessa back and a big family he can finally chase after what he wasn't meant for. Because it's only happened twice, it wouldn't happen again-

Rejection. He can't be a hero because people don't need him. He is the needy one, the one who wants to be needed, needs to be wanted. So, it's the crash. The final straw. He breaks. He breaks so hard because what the fuck is the point to trying if every time he is met with failure? Rejection? Pain? Loss? He becomes so stuck in figuring this all out he neglects his relationship with Vanessa, causing issues. They go separate ways, but still so close, because you don't just lose your best friend like that, even if you're no longer partners. They're always meant to be together one way or another.

So you have this broken man who is searching for purpose, years later still harboring this tiny flicker of hope that he can be greater. He can be great. He can be a hero.

His world is in trouble, he doesn't think twice saving it. He accepts he isn't perfect for this, not like all the big guys back in Avengers headquarters, but he can't let his loved ones die because of someone he's had a vendetta against the last two movies.

He literally fights and fights and fights to find someone to help him, Wade can't save who he loves he has to find someone else you can, anyone else.

Than a broken, desperate man walks into a bar to see another broken man who has since long given up.

The thing about Logan and Wade is that they don't need words. Wade blew himself up in order to die in the second movie, Logan drinks himself away, both knowing they can't die no matter how much they want to. How much they believe they deserve it.

So Wade sees a Wolverine who has potential, who hasn't hurt him (unlike the others, he gets hurt so much, guys) and places his faith in him without hesitation. From that moment on he has never truly doubted Logan's abilities nor his heroism, because he knew his Logan and if his world was anchored by a Logan than all Logan's are built with something he isn't. They're made to be heroes, made to be important. Yeah, they fight, but I strongly believe that's how two broken men say everything words can't possibly describe.

I mean what words could describe the way they go all out on each other, knowing the other can't die, the way Wade looks up at him, not wanting to regrow his entire body because he needs to save his world and understands Logan and has to decide to say something that'll convince him to help. Wade doesn't know if stopping the machine will completely save his world or if a new Logan will patch it up too, it's his own educated wish he passes onto Logan. Because just like Russel, he cares. He understands. He wants to help.

It's that faith, hope, and resistance and face of humor despite it all that causes Logan to stick by that dumb asses side. He lost everything, he is seeing someone like himself before he stumbled home drunk from the bar to find everyone dead. Someone who is capable of doing something he wasn't able to. He wants to help, more and more for Wade and less himself, a silent journey of healing following Wades steps everywhere they stumble into.

Because Logan was just drunk at a bar before being told he was needed to save a world, told he was the worst before being offered help anyone, getting praised over his capabilities, and than told again and again how he is able to be someone he never thought he could be. Much like Wade was and is.

Logan sees it. Wade most likely ignores it, much like anything else. He isn't very open with anyone other than Vanessa as we've learned.

So just- of course Wolverine is the honest one, of course he hits low, he sees himself and Wade and wants to hurt him. Wade wants to hurt him back, but only when he's directly attacked by his words and threats, a way of not taking shit. Logan took shit from the world and than didn't from Wade and his emotional rollercoster right. And I think without whatever happened in that Honda Odyssey things wouldn't have been the same. They needed that fight, that release, that hatred from themselves to burst into the form of someone else who could take it just as much as the other could.

Logan listens to Wade's home at the borderlands. Logan is given kindness and tough love. Logan joins. Logan begins to understand how most linger by Wade's side despite everything. He sees why. He's a force, he doesn't give up, he doesn't quit, not for others. It grants strength, though imperfect and messy.

Logan believes Wade deserves better. So he plans on sacrificing himself only for Wade to once again show how much of a Hero he wants to be and could be. Only for those two idiots to hold hands to madona and come to a mutual understanding and comfort that has Wade making room for Logan in his and Al's apartment.

And there is something so inherently a-spec about not being explicitly sexual with each other, having an understanding that goes beyond direct words and full truths. They they can hurt one another and it feels so good, so wanted and cherished. How they support one another by being fucked up and sloppy. They're wrecks and they help the other heal, do what they're too afraid to do.

What is more a-spec than two people looking at each other with adoration and trust? To be two people who cannot be placed within a single both because their relationship and meaning to one another isn't so neatly cut and within expectations? To love in a way that blood and standing side by side is a comfort? A steadying point in which everything becomes clearer with time?

They make me so fucking sick, they make me so FUCKING SICK.

[duke-daemon]

hazbin hotel redesigns wooooooooo

okay so. i'm gonna discuss my thoughts about them n shit, putting under a readmore bc it's gonna get long and rambley. sorry in advance for the shit formatting, i'm on mobile </3

just some general shit about how i would rewrite it. i think the premise of redeeming sinners is entertaining but is executed horribly. i also am a fan of the "heaven isn't great either" idea but again, executed horribly. i'd make the hierarchy of angels more accurate because it's cool as hell and i have autism about it. the characters from hell would swear still (albeit not as much), but the angels would outright refuse to swear or make vulgar jokes ever. this would be partially to further the gap between heaven and hell and make the differences more stark.

hell would also be more like dante's inferno (again because i think its cool). the ars goetia would get a full redesign and would be more prevalent in demonic society.

now for the characters!

---

VAGGIE VALTIEL:

starting off with vaggie, or Valtiel as i've renamed her because let's be honest her original name sucks. Valtiel (Val for short) was an aspiring power angel who wanted to be an exorcist. she looked up to lute and thought the idea of killing demons was really cool and badass. however when she actually was on the field for the first time she discovered how awful this actually was. she tried to help a few demons but lute figured it out and felled her right then and there. the rest of her story is relatively the same. personality wise she's more stoic and less prone to all-out aggression. she still get angry, sure, but it's in a quieter and more menacing way. you DO NOT want to fuck with Valtiel.

CHARLIE:

next up is charlie! i had two ideas for her. the first one (unsettling drawing) has her as a mannequin/doll type demon. lucifer and/or lilith was unable to conceive and as such they built a kid from scratch. she's overall similar to og charlie personality wise, very kind and cheerful despite her unsettling appearance. she struggles with empathy sometimes but really does mean well. her motive for rehabilitating sinners is so they get to see their family again. being able to see heaven from where they are in hell must make them sad, so she wants to help make them happy again!

the second idea for charlie has her as an angel. specifically i casted her as a dominion angel due to their reputation as holy judges. she was once a demon but has been rehabilitated and has risen into angelhood! she now wants to help her former kin do the same and redeem themselves in heaven's gaze. again, similar cheery personality, but a bit more prudish in this rendition

tangent time!

as a side tangent, valtiel and charlie would have a different relationship in this rewrite. their relationship felt shoehorned in in the original show, like it was just there for the hell of it. we didn't see much development between them and it just felt kinda bland. so in my rewrite, charlie and valtiel are amiable exes. they tried dating when valtiel first fell (when charlie was still a demon in the charlie-angel version) but realized their feelings for each other were much more platonic than romantic. they ended things off on good terms, deciding they were much better as friends. they are still besties to this day! later charlie ends up with emily (or 'ellie' as i plan to rename her)

back to the characters

Alastor:

note: i made alastor mixed-race, which could be seen as bad by some due to vivzie saying he's black. however, as many have pointed out, he has no ethnic features whatsoever and i honestly wouldn't be surprised if she said that just to get away with using voodoo symbols (a closed religion) in his imagery/design. like viv, i am incredibly white and have little to no knowledge of voodoo, and even if i did i would not use it for something like this anyways due to the stigma the religion already has and (again) it being a closed practice. as such i removed it from his concept altogether, but made him mixed race (white passing) because.. why not i guess, i forgor my actual reasoning

with that being said...

alastor is by far my favorite of the redesigns and i'm honestly tempted to turn him into a legally distinct oc. i imagine he's somewhat reserved, along the lines of norman bates albeit a bit more extroverted. during his life he was a serial killer with a day job as a radio announcer. he took pleasure in reporting about his own murders on the radio, but that is eventually what got him caught (ie accidentally letting slip info that wasn't released to the public). as a result he was sentenced to death. upon arriving in hell, he quickly rose through the ranks to borderline overlord status and is a feared presence by demons and sinners alike. why is he bothering to assist in the hotel project? who knows... his motives are a mystery, like the rest of what he does

(he isn't actually alastair crowley i just thought the naming convention was ironic. however he may have also dabbled with satanic magic in lifetime..)

Angel Dust:

TW: brief discussion of SA

this is definitely my second favorite redesign. i loooove insect themes and wanted to do more than just Extra Arms, so he now has fucked up legs and a lot of eyes too! story-wise, angel used to be a criminal mastermind, hated by both the mafia and the feds. he was a gentleman thief, arranging massive heists under the cover of night while also partaking in the occasional drag show. he ended up a cocaine addict later in life, which caused his work to become sloppier. eventually he was killed in a heist gone wrong, specifically shot by the police.

i'm not gonna go too in-depth on the SA part of his story, but he is hypersexual due to being assaulted in both his life and afterlife. it would be something he'd be working on in the rewrite. his reason for coming to the hotel in the first place may have even been for help with this trauma. underneath his sultry exterior is a broken guy who really just needs someone to care about him for who he really is and not for what his body can do.

LUTE:

so lute and adam are some of the characters i have the most gripes about. the biggest one being why viv chose adam as the leader of the exorcists in the first place. if she wants a biblical figure tied to demon killing, Archangel Michael is RIGHT THERE, aka the one destined to kill satan during the events of Revelations. if she wants the first human to die, that would be Abel, not Adam. and i kinda doubt abel would want to do the stuff that HH!adam has been doing. if she wants an angel related to torture, Dumah is her guy! an angel that rules over wicked souls and tortures sinners every day except sabbath. so many better options...

with that out of the way, Lute is still the lieutenant of the exorcist, who are a specially chosen group of powers sent to purge hell once a year. think navy seals. she's pretty much the same as in the show, albeit more muscular and visually different from other exorcists (seriously why do they all look exactly the same?????) she's a very repressed lesbian who hasn't had time to work on that due to her duties

i also redesigned the exorcist uniform/armor because those LED purge masks are fugly as hell and their clothes don't even look remotely like armor.

Adam + Final Thoughts

i did start a redesign of adam but got bored of it. regardless, i think he'd be the head of C.H.E.R.U.B. instead of the exorcists. he doesn't want his children to make the same mistakes he and eve did, so together they started C.H.E.R.U.B. to help lost souls stay out of hell

final thoughts uhhhh i'm tired. show sucks, it had so much potential but viv ruined it by being a shitty writer and an even shittier person. the designs are fine i guess but they all look exactly the same and are in desperate need of variety. the humor is dogshit, saying dick and balls and penis over and over and over again doesn't make it any funnier than the first three times you made that joke. anyways that's it, i hope you liked my inane ramblings. gonna go vanish for another forty years or so, adios

[assexpansion]

"Take a look at that! Wow! Those supplements really did a number on you." Jay's workout buddy said with a whistle as he felt up his friend's feminized ass.

He finished his assessment on whether Jay was indeed slowly changing into a plushy-assed twink with a hearty spank. Jay hated that his new body, especially his jiggly, slappable ass loved the attention. Before his buddy had offered him the workout supplements, he was a conventionally-minded, normal man, and now...

Now, the aspiring gym bro looked like a full-blown femboy, still carrying some of the masculine features from before but undeniably changed. Jay's shoulders were trimmer, and his waist had somewhat thinned along with a dozen other small, individually imperceptible alterations that together left him looking much girlier.

"What am I going to do?" Jay asked, pulling on his curly brown hair, hoping someone else could take control of the situation he'd gotten himself into.

His buddy inhaled deeply, still staring at Jay's bottom. He pried his attention away and scanned the gym.

"See that group over there?" He asked, using his chin to gesture to three women using the ellipticals. "They used to show up once or twice a month. But, since you started... blossoming. They've become regulars."

Jay's gaze drifted to the group. They were already looking in his direction and spontaneously began giggling amongst themselves at his attention. In turn, Jay began blushing. His friend clapped him on the back and whispered into his ear.

"If you keep it up, you might make a friend or two, or three. Also..." He grabbed Jay's slutty little waist and spun him around, placing his other hand on his stomach. "You could use some core training."

Jay gulped, looking down at the man's hand on his small potbelly. It was true. Despite other areas slimming down, his butt and this pesky pooch were more apparent than ever. In that moment, Jay thought it looked kind of cute, especially when his buddy's big hand was rubbing it ever so gently.

"O-okay, I'll keep it up and see wh-what happens." Jay resolved, eyes fluttering.

He continued taking the supplements, mixing them into his pre-workout shakes, and focused on doing exercises and using equipment that would shrink his stomach and his plump ass. Unfortunately, the complete opposite happened.

The next month showed a steep escalation in the young man’s transformation. Jay's bubblebutt and belly only grew from one day to the next. He had a wide, milfy ass and his once-lean stomach rounded into a softer, pudgier belly that jiggled like a bowl full of jelly with every movement. One part of his friend's plan did work, though, getting closer to the trio of women who had become his new workout partners.

They had taken Jay under their wing, half in jest and half in genuine admiration, always encouraging him with flirty comments and playful teasing.

“Look at those cute cheeks, Jay! You’re basically the hottest guy in the gym!” One would say, winking at him after each set.

“Honestly, I wish my butt looked that good,” another chimed in, eyeing his rear with a smirk.

Despite feeling a little embarrassed, Jay found himself blushing and laughing along with them. Jay began to embrace his identity, flaunting his newfound curves in snug workout attire that highlighted his figure. He loved the way his stretchy shorts clung to him, especially his belly. Every slight brush from one of the women sent tingling pulses up the young man's pregnant-looking form.

Eventually, the teasing culminated into something more thrilling. During a cooldown one afternoon, the most daring workout bunny of the three nudged him and said: “You know, we’ve been talking, and we think it’s time you joined us in the girls’ locker room. You’re practically one of us now!"

Jay’s heart raced at the prospect, both excited and nervous. He glanced at the other women, their expressions were bemused, yet there was an undeniable spark in the air. “Okay,” Jay said, feeling bold. “Let’s do it!”

The atmosphere in the locker room was entirely different from the gym floor. As the three women began to change, Jay stood awkwardly at the edge, feeling an accute shyness. With a little poking and prodding, they coaxed him into the showers' warm water.

“See? You belong here,” One said as she stepped closer, her fingers grazing his chub lightly. Jay felt a thrill run through him. “You’re really cute in that top, but you should take it off.” she added, causing Jay to blush profusely.

For @ghostypancakez!

He stripped down and joined them in the mist just before she pulled him closer, her lips crashing against his in a surprising but exhilarating kiss. Jay melted into it, feeling a rush of warmth spreading through his body. She began feeling up and squeezing his fattened ass as they made out in front of the others. As one pulled away, another would join in, kissing him softly and exploring the curves of his waist, rubbing his distended belly.

"You have such a pretty, little cock." One breathed into his ear, reaching around to squeeze his soapy member.

"And the most perfect tum!" Another agreed, bending down so she could caress and wobble his belly.

"There's just not enough of you to go around!" The third say, grinding herself into his Kardashian ass.

The feeling of their bodies pressed together in the warm shower was intoxicating. Jay felt a rush of emotions, a heady mix of thrill and vulnerability. He was coming close to a whimpering orgasm as the girls whispered sweet nothings, fingers entwined in hair and caressing soft skin. With a newfound assuredness, Jay melted into the moment, secretly thanking his old workout buddy for pushing him further.

[himasgod]

Neuvillette x Reader arranged marriage!

Where you are forced to marry Neuvillette, but your dream is to be a blacksmith

The sound of rain echoed on the roof of the workshop, accompanying the monotonous rhythm of the drops hitting the glass of the windows. The workshop was a sanctuary that you had built with your own hands after months of effort, finally free of the restrictions you had endured during your marriage to the Supreme Judge of Fontaine, Neuvillette.

“A marriage of convenience,” that’s what everyone had called it. And they were right. When the Supreme Court had decided to unite the sole heiress of an ancient lineage—you—with Neuvillette himself, it had all been cold, calculated. A political decision to strengthen the stability of Fontaine, or so the decree had said.

From the beginning you had hated the idea. Your heart was in fire and iron, not banquets and fancy dresses. Being forced to abandon your dream of being a blacksmith to become the wife of a man you barely knew was like putting out a living flame with a bucket of ice water. For your part, Neuvillette was not enthusiastic either. While he was always polite and courteous, his coldness and emotional clumsiness only made the distance between you widen.

Mutual respect was the only thing that kept everything from falling apart faster. But respect was not love. Or so you thought.

The first few months were full of awkwardness. You refused to say more words to him than necessary and he, with his eternal patience, accepted your slights without reproach. His way of speaking was so calculated that sometimes you felt he treated you like a colleague at a business meeting rather than his wife.

There were attempts, that was undeniable. Small gestures that might have gone unnoticed by others.

Once, noticing your frustration with etiquette lessons, he brought you a book on the philosophy of art and left it discreetly on your desk.

Another day, you had heard rumors that he had spoken to the local master blacksmith to allow you to work clandestinely. But every time you tried to thank him, he denied it with a clumsiness that only fueled your frustration.

“I just wanted to be useful, nothing more,” he said, without looking directly at you.

Your frustration came not only from the situation, but also from him. He was a complicated man, shrouded in a cloud of mystery and repressed emotions. His eyes, always filled with an inexplicable melancholy, seemed to hide a pain that you never quite understood. You tried to ignore it, to focus on your own aspirations, but his silent presence was always there, reminding you of the cage in which you were both trapped.

The real turning point occurred one rainy night. As usual, Neuvillette was locked in his office, reviewing court cases until the wee hours. You had decided to confront him, tired of the coldness that seemed to consume everything.

"Why do you try, if it's clear that we both want this to end?" you snapped. Your words were harsh, but also sincere.

Marriage was a cage for both of you.

Neuvillette looked up, his eyes filled with that melancholy that you never fully understood.

"Because I believe that, even if we don't fully understand each other, the respect we have for each other is worth preserving" he answered calmly. His words left you frozen. There were no reproaches or sadness, just a raw and honest truth that you didn't know how to respond to.

The divorce came silently, like the tide receding after a storm. Neither of you fought it; it was simply what had to happen. You returned to your dream of being a blacksmith, while he continued with his life of duties at the Supreme Court.

You thought there would be relief. But with each blow of the hammer on the hot metal, you realized something you’d tried to ignore: you missed his presence, his calm, even his clumsiness. The little things you’d taken for granted—the way he’d tilt his head when he listened to you talk about your passions, or the way the rain always seemed to fall softer when you were near him—began to linger in your mind like a lingering echo.

For his part, Neuvillette felt the emptiness, too. Though his face remained as impassive as ever, his heart carried a heaviness he’d never felt before. He’d lost something important, something he didn’t know how to value until it was gone.

On the loneliest nights, you’d find his gaze fixed on the rain, searching for answers in the drops running down the glass. He’d remember the moments shared with you, no matter how insignificant. A fleeting laugh, a conversation about something trivial, or even the sound of your hurried footsteps as you left the office in a huff. All of this was part of a mosaic that he now wanted to be able to reconstruct.

Fate, capricious as always, he brought you together months later. In the middle of a downpour, your paths crossed near Fontaine streets. You had taken shelter under an awning, your hands stained with soot after a day of work in the workshop. When you looked up and saw him, a mixture of emotions ran through you.

Neuvillette looked at you with that same melancholic expression that you had so hated and learned to love at the same time. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The rain fell between you, erasing the distance but also the words.

“You look happy,” he finally said, his voice as soft as the murmur of the rain.

“I am… for the most part,” you answered, not daring to look him in the eyes.

The silence stretched on, laden with unsaid things. Perhaps you would never recover what they had lost, but in that instant, both of you knew that the respect that had been born in your marriage had evolved into something deeper. Something that, even if you couldn't name it, could never be forgotten.

The moment you put down your towel to wipe the soot off your hands, and took a deep breath to let your feelings out, you heard your words come out of his mouth as well. Exactly the same.

"I think it would be nice to try something again."

You said in unison. Your brow furrowed as you looked away.

"Don't copy me."

"I said it at the same time, excuse me. I didn't copy y-."

"Shut up."

However, you set the hammer aside as you lowered your head slightly before muttering.

At the same time as him, again.

"I've been missing you."

You felt a drop of sweat fall down your forehead as your teeth ground together. Neuvillette gulped.

The rain continued to fall, but for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel like a weight. Maybe it was a promise, a chance to start over,

even if it was as two strangers who once shared an important chapter of their lives.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[deramin2]

Matt Mercer's Impressive Voice Acting

Critical Role Presents: Winter's Crest (A Holiday Album) really hits home what an incredible voice actor Matthew Mercer is. Once in a generation talent.

Voice Acting legend Mel Blanc was known as "The Man Of A Thousand Voices." (Probably an underestimate.) Matt Mercer's voiced around 2,250 voices in the Critical Role campaigns alone (not counting sound effects), many so distinctive the audience can tell a recurring character from voice alone before they're formerly reintroduced.

And now the Holiday Album shows that he can also belt out singing very well in some of his goofiest accents and have then fully come through. Which is so incredibly hard. The rest of the cast did a great job as well, but Matt's parts were harder and more exaggerated.

Everyone in the voice acting/TTRPG performance professions around him seems very impressed by his skill, but I don't see as much acknowledgement from average viewers. Like, "Oh yeah, he's that guy who can just talk in any voice that he collects like a parrot and hold full on conversations with himself and make a lot of mouth sounds. Pretty immersive!"

Meanwhile if you actually run the numbers it's like saying that once a week you get to hear someone improvise voice acting as difficult as Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto No. 1 or Violin Concerto (which are so difficult they were both considered unplayable in their day). Do not feel bad if you can't live up to Matt's performances at your table. You probably can't play pickup basketball like LeBron James either, or do gymnastic flips like Simone Biles. That's part of why Matt himself tells people they don't need to be like him to run games well because everyone has their own special skill.

Just gotta sit back and appreciate an artist working at the height of their ability to do something very special. Admiration and aspiration can drive new artists to develop their own incredible skills, but the statics of reaching that skill level are against you. It's the end of the Bell Curve, not a minimum to have fun. Treating Matt's skill as a mark to measure everyone else against will just make you perpetually and unreasonably disappointed. You can be much happier just cooling for everyone's different skills and strengths instead.

We get to see something very special and difficult every week done so well in looks easy. I love running that math from time to time to remind myself just how cool it is and not let normalcy diminish that awe.

[imshymorph]

Happy valentines everyone, here’s some more Death!Ghost x Life!Reader for your enjoyment. Here’s Part One in case you haven’t read it. And now, Part Three

He doesn't wait for an answer, his hands moving from the side of the mask to the eye sockets, fingers fitting in them to pull it away. Out of pure habit you quickly drift your eyes, looking away from him to honour his privacy. His heart seems to fill his chest when he notices.

“It's okay.” He murmurs, his voice raspy but also a more clear than usual, making you realise that the bone usually muffles his voice. “I want you to see me.” He encourages, his hand dropping the mask between the two of you.

- - - - -

You still feel a little hesitant, but let your eyes move back to him. Taking in the sight of his dark robes covering his chest, the hood he usually dons now loosely covering his shoulders. And when you finally reach his face you take your time, like an aspiring artist studying a piece in a museum.

His skin paler than most, although you already expected it from the few peeks you had gotten as his sleeve rode up. The veins that moved up from his neck and onto his face showed through the white tone, combining along the scars that littered his skin. The lines and shapes they created reminding you of Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas with gold.

Despite the sharper edges on his jaw and nose, there was something soft about his features, something reminiscent of when he was first given life. His pale eyes, a foggy mix of greys and blues being highlighted by the dark edges around and under his eyes. Just as if the shadow that the mask produced was permanent around them.

What managed to surprise you most was his hair, with soft curls and waves and with a blond tone that reminded you of the first sunbeams to illuminate the earth in a summer morning.

“Didn’t think you’d be blond.” You say after a moment, your usual sweet smile returning to your lips. “Expected it to be a rich brown, like soil after a full day of rain.” You admit, your eyes scheming over his blond curls once more.

He felt his whole body relax, a soft sigh leaving him as the tension did. It must’ve been the first time someone saw him since his beginning as Death, since he could pretty much remember.

A soft chuckle escapes him at your comment, his expression going soft and a smile lifting the corner of his lips. It was strange to see Death smile, but also a welcome sight. “So, you did wonder about how I looked?” he dares to say, his smile pulling onto a grin.

You chuckle, being the one to have to drift your gaze away this time, fighting to hide the heat that is gathering on your cheeks at his teasing comment. He chuckles as well, being the one to give you space now.

“I might have been curious.” You murmur after a moment, a small grin on your lips as you still avoid looking at him. You still can see the way he looks at you through the reflection of the creek in front of you. Feel his eyes on you.

“Have I met the expectations, then?” He pushes lightly, that teasing tilt still on his tone. He wasn’t going to admit it, but he surprised himself with how easy it was to make the change. To be more open, to show himself to you.

You don’t answer for a moment, looking at the landscape surrounding the two of you before nodding. You turn your head, facing him once more. “Look imposing enough without the mask… Although that smile it's like an open invitation to befriend you.” you say, returning the light quip back.

“We aren’t friends already?” He asks, his tone sounding surprisingly offended but the small smirk on his lips reassuring you that he was just playing along. “Maybe I should just leave then.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be good. You can’t have Life without Death. What would I do without my other half?” You ask, raising your brows as you put the ball on his court.

He chuckles, looking back up to the sky once more, letting his body fall back and rest against the combination of grass and moss under your bodies. “Have no purpose i guess… Just as if I were to be without you.”

[10thmusemoon]

saw your omega yqy post and i must know, if yqy and sj had another baby after shen yuan (after they officially get together and openly COMMUNICATE about their feelings) how would that go? how would sj feel about it knowing that yqy loves him? how would yqy feel knowing (or at least suspecting) that sj is actually looking forward to their second child?

CW: omegaverse, jiuqi, 97

Despite a breeding kink definitely being present I don’t think SJ would want another kid! But that’s not how omegaverse goes so of course there would be another!

There was so much trepidation with the first child, so naturally he’s anxious at the beginning. Jealousy and hunger are such an integral part of who Shen Jiu that he is that he puts himself in a box of how he should feel, how he expects himself to act like he did the first time around. It was such a resentful and miserable time for him that he’s not looking forward to it at all.

SJ is so used to planning for the worst that the good always blindsides him.

A stable relationship means that this time around he doesn’t have to restrain himself at all. SJ can scent yqy as he wishes and bury his face in the sect leader’s neck for hours, getting drunk off the smell of a happy pregnant omega knowing “I did this, qi-ge is this happy because of Me.”

He can enjoy the changes this causes in yqy this time around instead of thinking it’s a parasite changing him into something unfamiliar.

There was a very real fear in yqy that SJ wouldn’t want anything to do with them after Shen yuan was born that just isn’t an issue this time around. Yqy would have been overly independent the first time around, partly because of not wanting to bother SJ but mostly because that’s who he is. When he tries to pull the same shit this time around SJ gets to gleefully bully yqy into resting and being spoiled. For once yqy can’t ignore him to stay up and finish more paperwork because SJ will immediately weaponize the baby’s health against him.

(SJ becomes a menace on Qian Cao peak and MQF morns the time when he knew less about his shixiongs sex life and they used to avoid medical care)

The pregnancy sex is filthy, but more body worship than degradation happening for once. (We’re not talking about the lactation kink but it’s real.) SJ looks at YQY flushed and full, pressed against a nest of the softest most expensive materials available and thinks, “I won. This is mine, mine, mine.”

Pride and smug satisfaction define the second pregnancy.

This is the life Shen Jiu was owed, all the years of hell were for this. Everyone that ever looked down on him was wrong, they would all eventually die with their aspirations on their tongues while Shen Jiu lives as a powerful immortal with a spoiled Qi-ge on his arms.

(The barefoot and pregnant omega fantasy is strong this time around and if only yqy could just stop giving a shit about the sect for two seconds to make it a reality!!)

YQY is over the moon with all this, similar to Shen Jiu there’s less restraint going on and he allows himself the full range of emotions. On more than one occasion he finds himself tearing up with a silent joy that sends SJ into panicked spirals that typically end with a flustered “we could have had this earlier if you weren’t an idiot about things!!”

Not only that but also with jealousy, he isn’t just a thing that belongs to SJ (though he is!) this time around but also someone that has just as much a claim to his beautiful husband. There is a certain smugness to his status a a powerful pregnant omega with an ethereal husband when they have meetings with outsiders. Also he fully milks (lol) his rights as an omega to have his alpha come everywhere (lol x2) with him “for his safety.”

(If YQY wasn’t the sect leader they surely would have been thrown out for public indecency.)

If with Shen Yuan SJ had been a reluctant father with his first pet, then with baby 2 he is suddenly the obnoxious show dog owner that thinks he’s better than you.

The difference is that Shen Yuan was Qi-ge’s baby, and the goodness of him was because of that association, it was the saving grace from the poison he would inherit from SJ.

Baby two is his, they’re all his, because it’s what Shen Jiu deserves. They are his victory and his pride and he radiates condescension for his superior family that he built.

(YQY is so into this baby 3 might be a given)

[5starwitch]

Astrology Observations

I do birth chart readings for $10!!! Message me for more info

Capricorn placements usually have a timeline for themselves of certain things they want to accomplish by certain ages. I've noticed if they don't reach their goals by a certain age they can be superrr hard on themselves. They are often plagued by thoughts that they aren't doing enough or they're not where they should be in life.

I've noticed that couples whose sun signs are co-rulers of the same planet usually work really well together. For example, aries and scorpio (mars) or sagittarius and pisces (jupiter).

Pisces mercury is a placement that relies on their intuition rather than logic. They somehow just know things but may not be able to express how they know it. These people are extremely creative and are usually talented artistically.

Aries moons are much more emotional than pisces moons. Pisces moons are very go with the flow and allow things to just play out. Whereas aries moons have strong feelings and reactions to everything.

Pisces mars have a difficult time expressing anger but they are very skilled at manipulation. They are pretty passive-aggressive and use manipulation to get people to do what they want. They are usually really sweet people though and they only manipulate when they feel like they have no other options.

I've noticed that virgo placements have a deep love for their pets (more than the average person). Having a pet really brings them comfort and happiness during difficult times. Animals are also very fond of them!

Mercury trine saturn grants someone mental agility. Once this person decides they want to learn or do something they have the willpower and dedication to really see it through. I really see a person with this aspect writing a book because they have the grit to get it done!

This is just my opinion but it's usually not a good idea to date your sister sign. I've seen sister sign couples have very tumultuous relationships that are full of passion but also A LOT of serious fights.

Mercury square mars can come off as aggressive even if that is not their intention. They can also be very impulsive with their words which can lead to misunderstandings in conversations. People with this aspect should slow down and really think before they speak.

Sun trine moon aspect in synastry is very harmonious. The moon person feels like home to the sun person and the feeling is usually mutual! The sun person encourages the dreams and aspirations of the moon person and makes them feel free to be themselves. They both find emotional security and comfort with one another.

Having a stellium in the 1st house or aries gives a person a very bold personality that might intimidate other people. These people are usually very comfortable being themselves and can be trend setters when it comes to fashion.

...

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[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 6

So ever since my last update, I've gotten a new laptop because deadass the same day I posted chapter 5 like "oh hopefully I'll get it back soon," they told me my old acer aspire is so old they don't even make the parts for it anymore. This has nothing to do with the fic, I just thought it was funny.

Notes: still sfw, semi dysfunctional/controlling family dynamics (I assure you they will get progressively worse), ableism in the form of reader being coddled and patronized by his parents. Check masterlist for previous parts, will eventually make an actual masterlist for this fic.

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

You did not immediately tell your parents about your interaction with Pantalone when you finally returned, as once again they were in the midst of an argument. Your mother’s scoldings about how your father knows better, and your father’s arguments about how you’re a grown man who should fend for himself by now could be heard the moment you stepped through the door. Colleen gives you an awkward, sympathetic smile as you shuck off your coat. Before the maid can hang it up, you fish the letter from your pocket, and seeing your name in the Guuji Yae’s handwriting fills you with nervous excitement once more. 

You can’t really hear the fighting from your study. If you try to listen, you can, but otherwise it is very peaceful. You open the letter again and set it next to your typewriter, while also tucking the briefcase with your manuscript under your desk. You proceed to load your typewriter, ready to type a response, when it occurs to you that maybe you should hand write this letter. Would it be disrespectful to just type a letter? Maybe. A handwritten letter is more personal, after all. 

By the time you finish your letter, there are six other letters crumpled up in your bin, and you hear your mother’s voice informing you that it’s dinner time. The tense atmosphere of dinner keeps you from talking, let alone telling your parents about Pantalone. You really don’t want to set off yet another argument with how much these two have grown apart. As horrible as it is to think or say, you will not be surprised if the word divorce comes up in their next fight, and that next fight is probably tomorrow. 

This tense silence continues the next day, and the day after that, until a full two weeks have passed where you have not heard a single argument. Not because your parents made up, mind you, but because they have barely spoken to each other. Nothing beyond standard small talk or informing the other person about meals or receiving something in the mail. The air is oppressive, and you try not to let it show how much it is starting to stress you out. Instead, you have been waiting patiently for a letter back from the Guuji, hoping to surprise them with some good news for once. 

(You’ve also been replaying your last interaction with Pantalone in your head, because you know you did not mishear him.)

The silence breaks when your father throws your bedroom door open one morning, when you are in the midst of getting changed out of your sleepwear. 

“You!”

You jump, having just put on your pants. Your face heats up in embarrassment. “Would it kill you to knock?” you snap. It’s not even ten. 

You hear your mother somewhere behind your father. “Darling, calm down.”

Your father storms inside and an envelope is shoved in your face. “Do you care to explain this?”

You step back and take the envelope. You rub your eyes, shoot your dad a dirty look, and read the envelope. That’s your name and address, but you don’t recognize the return address in the corner. The name, however, you do recognize, and your father does too.

“Why is it that I haven’t had contact with the Regrator in two weeks,” your father asks, “but when I finally get a letter back, it’s for you?”

“Yes, why is Pantalone writing to you?” your mother asks in turn. 

Your brow furrows, and with your father glaring daggers at you, you break the seal on the back of the letter. Before you can actually open it, your dad snatches the letter from you. He tosses the envelope aside and unfolds the paper within. 

“Hey!” You grab your father’s arm. “If you’re going to barge into my room, at least let me read my own mail!”

“There has to be some mistake,” your father says. “There’s no reason for the Regrator to talk to you.”

“While I disagree with his approach,” your mother says, “your father has a point.”

“Maybe if you let me read my mail, I could tell you,” you reply sarcastically. Your father rolls his eyes but hands the now crinkled letter back to you. You straighten it out and let your eyes scan over the words.

Your father’s voice is impatient. “Well?” 

You squint. “It’s an invitation.”

“An invitation?” your mother asks.

“What the hell for?” your father asks.

“An invitation for tea,” you answer, “for… tomorrow, at two.”

“Anything else?”

You flip the paper over. It’s blank. You flip it back over. “No, it’s just tea at two at his estate.”

“No, you fool,” your dad says, pulling the letter out of your hand again. “I meant if he mentions your sister or myself, because I find it hard to believe he’d invite you to his estate.”

You cross your arms. “Why’s that?”

“Your father means it’s odd that you would be invited over when you are not, ah, working with him,” your mother says, making up an excuse on the fly. “You’re not working with your father and sister, so if you were to be invited over, then that would include the rest of the family.” Though she’s out of your limited line of vision, you know she’s glaring at your father based on the way he averts his eyes from you.

“Then why is it addressed to him? It doesn’t address anyone else in the family.”

“I’m not sure, dear. Perhaps there’s been a mistake?”

“Pantalone would not make a mistake like this. Perhaps the post office lost our invites, but not his.”

“Or he just invited me,” you butt in.

Your father gives you a look. 

“Think about it,” you say, “if we all got an invite, surely mine would have said something about it, right? Hope to see you and your family, or something along those lines.”

“Perhaps mine would have it,” your father retorts, “as he’s my business partner.”

More like marriage partner at this point, you think and know better than to say. “You’re also assuming this has anything to do with work,” is what you say instead. “What if it’s just tea?”

“No, a man like him wouldn’t invite someone over for just tea,” your mother says. 

Your father goes to put your invitation in his pocket, but gives it back to you when your mom gives him a look. He clears his throat. “Well, we’ll have this sorted when we visit tomorrow.”

You blink. “Wait, what?” 

“We’re not going to just turn down this invitation,” your father says, as if you’re an idiot for not understanding what he was getting at. 

“We? We?”

“That’s right,” your mother chimes in, “we really shouldn’t go if we don’t know his intentions.”

“That’s not…” You groan, annoyed. You point at your father. “You aren’t on the invite.” You turn and point to your mother. “And we’ve talked about the coddling.”

Your mother shakes her head. “That was about when he visits us, I don’t want you alone at his estate.”

“No, no, we’re not getting into the semantics,” you say, “I have told you time and time and time again to stop treating me like I’m seven! I should be allowed to go have tea with someone else by myself.”

“Watch your tongue,” your father snaps, “and our decision is final. If you want to go to the Regrator’s for tea, then your mother and I are going as well.” He turns to walk off, and stops in the doorway. “And put a damn shirt on.”

The door slams shut, leaving you and your mother in your room. She offers you an apologetic smile, and gets the hint you want space when you pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. Her exit is much quiet, a soft apology and a gentle closing of the door. 

It takes you a moment, but you manage to find the envelope your father carelessly tossed aside. It slid most of the way under your bed, only the corner of it is immediately visible. You pick it up and feel your heart thump in your chest.

So this is what your name looks like in his handwriting.

----

While the novelty of Pantalone’s social status has worn off, the estate that comes into view through the snowstorm is a reminder of his intimidating wealth. It’s a beautiful building, and significantly larger than your family home. Your eyes are glued to the sight of it through the covered sled’s window. You can also just see your mother looking at it as well through the reflection of the glass. 

“Remember what we talked about,” your father says, and you make a face of annoyance similar to the face your mother’s reflection makes. “Hey, are you listening?”

“Don’t touch, trip on, or break anything,” you reply, “and only speak when spoken to. I’m aware of the whole routine.”

“And watch the attitude.”

“And you remember what I told you,” you reply, not bothering to turn your head. “If it turns out Pantalone didn’t invite you over, you need to leave.”

“Look at me when you talk to me.”

There’s a thump. Your mother most likely gave your father a nudge with her foot. Silence takes up the last few minutes of the ride as it slows to a stop right outside the snowy steps. You slide over to the opposite end of your seat and open the door, sucking all the warmth out of the sled. You make no effort to wait for your parents before you step down from the stairs. The snow pelting you in the face diminishes your vision, so you only make it a few steps before you trip on the first step. You catch yourself before you tumble forward and smash your teeth into the stairs. 

You hear your mother’s voice from the sled. “Please be careful!” 

You shout back that you’re fine, and climb up the stairs. Pantalone must have just had the steps cleared off before the blizzard hit, as there’s no crunch beneath your feet, merely the puff of snowflakes puffing out of the way with each step you take. Your father calls for you to wait for them as you stand before the door. You grab one of the large knockers and give it a few hard knocks on the door.

You feel your father’s firm hand on your shoulder just as a gust of heat rushes out and envelops you. You find yourself standing face to face with an older gentleman dressed in pristine servant’s attire. The two of you lock eyes, and for a moment he offers a welcoming smile before he notices you’re not alone, then it becomes confusion.

“Oh, hello there,” he says, “this is a little unexpected.”

“We’re here for tea with the Regrator,” your father butts in before you can even open your mouth.

“I had assumed as much, but I was told we were expecting a single visitor,” the man says. He brings his gaze back to you. “Now, you fit the description, but these two–”

Somewhere behind the man, you hear Pantalone’s voice. “Fyodor, what’s going on? Why have you not let our guest inside?”

The man turns around to address his master. “Apologies, my lord, but there seems to be some sort of… misunderstanding?”

You hear heeled footsteps descending a flight of stares and across the floor before your host comes into view. You feel yourself salivate and swallow it down quickly. You’re so used to seeing him in mostly black clothing, so the white lace up shirt with puffy sleeves immediately catches your eye. It’s tucked into a pair of black corset pants, which you make a point to not look at either. His hair is not tied back, and the chain on his glasses seems different. Though he still has his rings, he’s not wearing his gloves. Even in more “casual” attire, the Regrator is the pinnacle of wealth and beauty.

This very beautiful man tilts his head at the sight of your parents, namely your father. “What are you doing here?”

“You… You invited us to tea,” your father says.

“No I didn’t.”

Your father is quiet, and you turn yourself to see the confusion on his face. “You sent an invitation, i-it had our address on it.”

“Yes, and I believe I put your son’s name on it, did I not?” Pantalone asks. When you turn back around to him, you find he’s looking right at you. 

“You did, b-but I presumed you… you forgot to mention us, or maybe the invitations for my wife and I got lost in the–”

Pantalone lifts his hand, silencing your father. “If that were the case, I would have either addressed it to your family as a whole on the envelope, or I would have mentioned it in the invitation itself. Likewise, I did not send this through the post office, I had one of my staff deliver it personally.”

“But, b-but I’m your business partner!”

Pantalone turns to you. “Did you invite them with you?”

You stumble on your words, feeling too humiliated to answer honestly. What’s worse, saying yes, or saying no, but your parents wouldn’t let you leave unless they came along like they were chaperoning a child’s first field trip or playdate? You manage a shake of your head, and fortunately Pantalone seems to understand your plight after having many interactions with your family.

He sighs, and steps aside. “You’ve already made the trip, and the weather is taking a turn for the worst,” he relents, “you may come in.”

Your father pushes past and marvels at the interior of Pantalone’s estate. Your mother gives you an assuring pat on your shoulder. Pantalone whispers something to Fyodor, who nods and goes to help your parents with their coats.

The door shuts behind you, and you turn to Pantalone. You clasp your gloved hands together and lower your voice. “I am so sorry, I tried to tell them–”

“I know,” he replies in a voice as soft as yours, “perhaps I should have seen this coming, but I didn’t think I would need to be more specific in the invitation.”

With that, Pantalone stands up and claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Once you’re all settled, please follow me for a short tour on the way to the tea room.” He turns to Fyodor, who is carrying your parents’ coats. “Fyodor, please be a dear and let the chefs know to prepare some extra refreshments for our unexpected company.”

Fyodor nods, and you give him your coat before he leaves. Your mother is already hovering right next to you protectively, and Pantalone gives you a subtly sympathetic smile, which your mother seemingly interprets as an underlying threat judging by the way she wraps her arm around yours. You imagine your father is rolling his eyes.

The tour is short as promised, only staying in any given room long enough for Pantalone to state what the purpose of it is. You pass through the dining room, where Pantalone points out the doors to the kitchen, before you’re in a corridor passing by a ballroom entryway. You try to have a look at the oddly macabre paintings your host has displayed on the walls, but your mother is practically dragging you along so she can get this event over with quicker. You want to ask questions about what the chandelier in the foyer is made of, but your father already asked that in his never ending ramblings of praise for Pantalone and probably isn’t going to stop so you can actually ask the man anything.

Your father finally shuts up and your mother lets your arm go when the four of you step inside the tea room. Something you notice immediately is, while there are paintings on the walls, a table in the centre of the room, and a large cabinet with various tea sets, there is actually very little decor and furniture here. You passed by some sculptures and house plants and other miscellaneous extravagant pieces on the way, but the small room is oddly empty compared to the corridor just outside. 

When Pantalone takes a seat, your parents end up taking a seat on either side of him. Your father is immediately praising the barely furnished room, while your mother acts as barrier. As such, you end up seated across from him. On cue, you hear two people come in through the door behind you. You hear a soft squeaking, and a servant pushing a cart with a tea set on top of it. The porcelain teapot and cups have a vaguely floral pattern, with the handles shimmering with gold leaf. You jump when the second person, another servant, comes up beside you with a tray of food to place on the table. Your father marvels as they get to work setting the table, your mother politely thanks the staff, and you just sit still as your cup of tea is poured.

“This is quite lovely, Pantalone,” your father says for the millionth time, “really, I expect nothing less from you!”

Pantalone gives your father a smile, a polite gesture that does not reach his eyes. “I’m flattered.” When he looks your way, his smile seems fonder. “How about you? You seem to have something on your mind.”

“Oh! Um…” You lean back and glance around the room once more. “I was just… curious about your decor.”

Pantalone tilts his head curiously. “Oh? And what would you like to know?”

You hesitate to answer out of fear you would offend the man.

“Well? Out with it,” your father remarks.

“This room is a little bit… um…”

“Bare?” Pantalone finishes. “Yes, I had some of the furniture moved around in preparation for your arrival.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your eye condition,” he answers, “you said you used to trip on furniture because you didn’t see it, correct? I figured with a room this size, it would be safer to move some of the decor out of the room while you were visiting.”

“Oh, that’s… actually rather sweet,” you say, “b-but unnecessary. I’m not as clumsy as I used to be.”

“Ah, yes, my suit can attest to that fact.”

You chuckle.

Your father chimes in. “Yes, it’s better we avoid any more expensive accidents.”

Pantalone hums. “While I would rather avoid paying for a replacement or repair job, I was more focused on ensuring your son’s safety. I would hate for my guest to get hurt at an event I invited him to.”

You pick up on his passive aggressive comment, and your father does not. That, or he’s elected to ignore it. “Ah, that too,” your father says. He gestures to your mother. “I would have never heard the end of it if that were the case!”

Your father was expecting someone to laugh. He is ignored by Pantalone and gets glared at by your mother. You just grab a couple pastries, honestly wishing you had just turned down the invite altogether.

Your father clears his throat. “So, about that thing I-I had proposed a few weeks ago–”

“How is the book deal?” Pantalone asks you.

“O-Oh,” you stammer, not expecting him to bring up your book, “well, I’ve decided to go for it, and I’ve written back saying I would like to move forward with the deal. Now I’m just waiting for them to get back to me.”

Pantalone smiles and nods. “That’s lovely to hear.”

Your mother looks at you, confused. “What is he talking about?”

Fuck. You swallow, and nervously, sheepishly smile. “Right, um… I was, ah, saving this for when the deal was finalized, but my book might be getting published now.”

“By who?”

“... The Yae Publishing House.”

Your mother’s squeal could shatter porcelain. “The Yae Publishing House?! Sweetheart, that’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

You awkwardly laugh, avoiding Pantalone’s knowing gaze. “They’re just s-such a big deal, you know? I didn’t want to get your hopes up before I knew for certain they were going t-to publish the book.”

“Still, you could have at least told me you sent your book to them! Oh, goodness, I’m getting all worked up now. My sweetheart, being published by the Guuji Yae…”

Pantalone chuckles. “Yes, quite exciting. It warms my heart to see hard work being recognized.”

“I’m very excited,” your mother says, “he hasn’t told me what his new book is about, he keeps telling me to wait until it gets published. I was worried I’d never get to read it when your first deal was cancelled!”

You sheepishly rub the back of your neck. “This one’s kind of, well, different from my usual writing. I wasn’t sure how people would react to it.”

“Your stories are lovely, sweetie,” your mother insists, “you should never worry about what your mother thinks because I will always support you.”

You hear your father lean over in his chair towards Pantalone, and in a room of four people, his whisper is very audible. “He was worried he would have to get a real job, haha.”

“Which would be difficult given my disability,” you add, “seeing as most jobs require you to have awareness of your surroundings, and my eyesight is only going to continue degrading.”

Your father glares, and clears his throat. “... It was a joke.”

“And it wasn’t very original.”

“You’re also one to talk, considering our little deal,” Pantalone remarks. Your mother looks at your father for an explanation, to which he just sips his tea, embarrassed. 

The rest of the afternoon isn’t less awkward. The momentary embarrassment does not stop your father from badgering Pantalone with questions about what he’s been doing the past two weeks (settling some financial matters in Liyue), and praising him for the pastries he’s provided. Pantalone answers out of politeness, but his responses grow shorter and shorter every time your father opens his mouth. Your mother just silently eats, disinterested in conversing with the Regrator. You try to engage in conversation with Pantalone, but despite glares from everyone at the table, your father continues to interrupt you or answer questions Pantalone could not have more clearly directed towards you. You also just keep your answers short, not wanting to divulge too much about your book or true thoughts in front of your parents. 

Your father pops the last cream puff in his mouth. He’s already eaten most of them. There is no more tea, bringing the meeting to a close.

Pantalone claps his hands together. “Well, this has been a meeting!”

“We appreciate the invitation, Lord Pantalone,” your father says.

“What invitation?” Pantalone asks. “Remember? You two never received an invite.”

“... Right.”

Pantalone leans forward, propping his head up in his hands. He’s looking right at you, and he smiles so sweetly. “Would you care to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly overstay our welcome.”

Pantalone nods, acknowledging your father. He then looks back at you. “So? Would you care to stay?”

“We just said no,” your mother says.

“That’s fine, you two are free to leave. I’m talking to your son.”

Your mother and father lock eyes, before your father turns back to Pantalone. “Wait, why are you asking him if he wants to stay, but not us?”

Pantalone sighs, and grins at your father. “Well, I think I’ve played host to you two long enough, so I’ll tell you honestly.” At that, Pantalone drops his smile. The atmosphere immediately grows tense as he speaks, his voice cold. “I invited your son to my home because I wanted to discuss his upcoming book over tea. I did not invite you over to discuss work matters on my day off. Now, I would like to have the discussion I cleared my schedule for, and I would like to do it with the guest I actually invited.”

Your father balks, while you feel your jaw drop to the table and your eyes go as wide as saucers. You slowly turn towards your mother, and she is immediately seething. She stands up, her chair scraping on the floor. Pantalone smiles at you once more.

“So will you be staying for dinner? I have many questions about your writing process.”

“I–”

“Absolutely not,” your mother snaps. She grabs your arm hard and attempts to pull you up to your feet. Your father is torn between being shocked over being called out for his behaviour, humiliated for being scolded like a child, and incensed that your invitation did not extend towards him. Your mother tugs your arm again, and you stand up so you can better shake her off your arm.

“We’re leaving,” your father says. “Come along, you two.”

You brush some crumbs off your lap and sit back down.

Your father shakes your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me? I said we’re leaving.”

“Have fun,” you reply dryly, “I’ll be home late.”

Pantalone absolutely beams. “Oh, wonderful!”

You flinch at your mother’s shrill voice. “No, you’re not! I am not leaving you with this disrespectful–”

“Violka, he has made up his mind,” your father growls. You feel him glaring daggers into the back of your head, and do not move. You hear your mother start to protest, but then the door shuts behind you.

Pantalone lifts a small plate up off the table. On it is the final little piece of cherry bublanina. He offers it to you with a sly smirk, like forbidden fruit. 

With this in mind, you take it.

[goodluckclove]

On Not Writing

Hi! I'm back. i had a fun two days of doing absolutely nothing writing related, including scrolling this blog. Wife and I played a lot of Valheim. Took a lot of bike rides. Watched Interstellar for the first time - pretty good, kind of silly at the end. It was my first two-day weekend in probably three months, so it was much-needed, hard as it was.

And it got me thinking of some things I wanted to say to the community here. It's especially targeted towards younger writers, of which I used to be one, but I think it can apply to anyone who finds themselves despairing over how much they aren't writing.

Let's imagine you're sitting with me in this coffee shop. It's an overcast Portland morning and I just inadvertently vivisected a croissant. And as we sip our drinks (I ordered a lavender latte), you lament to me. I don't know what to do, Clove. I just haven't been writing!

You know what I say to that?

Good.

This is a new hot take of mine that I, once again, worry about upsetting people with. Because I see a lot of guides here about how to write, or how to write consistently, or how to write through writers block. But I haven't seen a single person talking about the inverse - how to not write. Or - perhaps more accurately - how to exist as a human being separate from your identity as a writer.

This is a problem for me.

Listen - I started young. I was 12 when I wrote my first novella, and 13 when I completed my first novel the next year. Adults in my life were impressed by the big-eyed child writing so many words. They encouraged me. I wrote two more novels, and they continued to encourage me. Because of the potential, right? I could be successful. I could be famous.

People stopped pushing me to try other things. I saw I was getting validation as a writer, so that only pushed me to continue fixating over something I was already enjoying and getting pretty good at. Dad had me writing two thousand words every day, because that's what Stephen King did. At 16 I finished four full-length novels, which everyone thought was really cool and interesting. I was also sporting dual hand braces every day throughout the winter to cope with the carpal tunnel I still struggle with to this day.

There is encouraging a person in their passion. There is also poisoning them with the belief that their self-worth comes from pursuing that passion. This is entirely, absolutely, even more true for younger writers and artists.

I am enraged for the young writer in my heart and in my head. Because they worried about a lot of the same things I see people worry about on here. Oh, if I don't write I'm not a writer! And to an extent they're right, as to be a writer you need to at some point write some stuff.

But here's the fucking thing, Young Clover - a child should not strive for the work ethic of a professional adult. You did not need to write 2k words a day to be a writer. You were a writer as soon as you updated that terrible Invader Zim fanfiction you wrote when you were 10.

And more than that, though, the most important thing to a person should not be their job and aspirations. If you don't write every day, you're still a writer. If you've never written anything, you aren't - and that's fine. You might write something later down the line, or you might not. Either way you are still entitled to exist on the planet and capable of living a full and passionate and wonderful life.

Hear my words: being a writer is not more important than being a human being.

If you aren't writing right now, maybe you're not supposed to be. Maybe you're meant to be nurturing your relationships, or nurturing yourself. Maybe you're supposed to be volunteering. Or meeting new people. Or gaining a new field of knowledge. Or getting really good at making focaccia bread. Or watching every Mark Wahlberg movie.

I don't like to hear this any more than you do. If I was told that I, for some reason, was not allowed to write for the rest of my life, I would be miserable for maybe a long time. After that passed it's my hope that I would move on and do other things, because my worth is not dependent on being a writer. I like doing it. I like being it, and I hope to be one for the rest of my life. But I never want it to be the first thing people see when they look at me. I don't even like bringing it up in conversation with people I don't already know.

So yeah, if you have "writer's block", maybe consider putting down the pickaxe and getting some rest. Step away entirely from the large boulder that stands between you being the next Stephen King or Brandon Sanderson or Teen Dystopia Writer no. 2321. Take a break, and I mean an ACTUAL break, not the kind where you spend the whole time sulking about work.

I am legitimately begging the writers on here to have developed lives and interests outside of writing. I am begging because I do not have that and it has consistently been one of the hardest things of my life.

You prioritize living outside your writing and it will improve the quality of your writing when you get back to it, as it'll allow you a frame of reference that extends beyond our niche industry. Or it might make you realize that, while you enjoy writing, what you really love is ceramics. Or game developing. Or mutual-aid activism. Or the movies of Mark Wahlberg.

It is not your job to treat yourself like you already have a dozen deadlines and an audience teetering on the edge of disappointment. That's ultimately not going to help you. Your job on this earth is to exist fully, for the sake of the universe that wants so desperately to live vicariously through you.

So breathe. Breathe and calm down. You aren't a failure and there's nothing you have to prove. All you have to do today is drink some water and have a nice snack while you look at a cloud.

Please be kind. All of us need to be kinder to each other and to ourselves.

That's all I want to say. I love you dearly. Please let me know if you need anything.

[lesbiansovereverything]

EVERLYN

A female family member of mine got married to a man in the middle of the COVID pandemic. So I watched the heterosexual coupling via Zoom. She wore a white dress with a long flowing train and a veil that hid her face; a spectacle of patriarchal heteronormativity. After the vows were said, and just before kissing the bride, her husband turned to the camera and announced with glee, “This is the first time we will be kissing!” They had been dating for three years.

In that moment, I saw the future and person my family had envisioned and engineered for me. One that I had escaped by coming out. The box and script that I was supposed to fit into and follow was made visible in the person of my relative and I mourned for her – wishing that this was what she genuinely wanted and had chosen and not the script that she was unconsciously following in order to win the approval of her parents and her community. But I’ve also known her since birth and I mourned because I knew different.

I’d escaped the same fate by coming out at 19. My rebellion had begun long before that in small ways, easily dismissed by family and community as eccentricisms that would be corrected once I followed the “plan.” But coming out as a lesbian sealed the deal for my family – as it was THE scarlet letter that could never be erased from my forehead. For me, however, it was a joyfully revelatory catalyst that embedded in me the surety that I could eschew scripts, jump from boxes, carve a life without templates of heterosexism, gender conformity, and sexual confinement – a knowledge that I had the freedom to choose something other than the life that had been set out by society and family.

My brother reacted by saying, “I feel as if you’re getting away with something. I just don’t know what.” I didn’t either – not then. But now I do. Somewhere deep inside, without having the words for it, I knew that what I wanted as a child–to be a Renaissance Woman who felt free to pursue a life of intellectual, physical, and creative freedom–was impossible under the regime of heteronormativity and female sexual subjugation that I saw all around me. And so many years later, having come out publicly at age 19, I look back and can honestly say that I am that Renaissance Woman I envisioned myself to be when I was seven.

*Everlyn Hunter immigrated to the US from Jamaica at the age of 14. Her educational accomplishments include Masters and Doctoral degrees in Psychology, as well as a diploma from Vancouver Film School in Writing for Television and Film. Concurrent with her professional work, Everlyn has held numerous leadership roles as a board member of non-profit human rights, Jewish, and LGBT organizations. Dr. Hunter currently lives in Los Angeles where she works as a Psychologist. In her spare time, she is a student pilot who loves flying, and an aspiring jazz vocalist. She is currently working on her first full length novel.

[unhinged-diaries]

Business Guide:

How to get started

When you have a business name in mind look up the domain name to see if it’s taken. You don’t want to spend money on an LLC just to find out that your name is taken. Thats a waste of money because you also have to pay to dissolve it.

If the name is not taken, great, don’t file an LLC yet. Go online and get a virtual business address. Why? If you’re running your business out of your home like I am, just know that it’s public information if you use your address to file your LLC. A virtual address should cost like $10-$20 a month. Use that to file your LLC.

Once you’ve filed that LLC get your Ein. That’s your Employee Identification Number. It’s your businesses tax id. It’s free to file on the IRS website. Don’t fall for the scam websites you guys.

Once you’ve gotten your EIN go to Google domains and get your website name aswell as 3-4 emails. An email for your social media accounts, an executive email for yourself, an ecomm@businessname.com for things like your business bank account, Shopify account, etc; and maybe a customer support email. I use the social email as a customer support email. All of this should be like $50/month.

Once you’ve don’t that get on Canva and make that logo bookie. Personally I paid someone on Fiverr to make mine because I’m a “soft business life” kind of girl and I’d rather pay the professionals. Thats just me though.

Once you’ve got your logo go ahead and get them social media accounts going. Instagram, tiktok, Facebook.

Alright now this is where it gets specific to clothing brands because that’s what I own.

Time to find a manufacturer. Head over to alibaba and search what kind of product you want to sell. Be sure to add “oem” if you want a manufacturer that customizes. Look for the amount of orders they’ve gotten on that product. If it says zero orders that’s ok. Some styles are new and thus haven’t been ordered yet. Check any reviews they have for other products. Also check the total revenue they’ve done. It’s on the store profile. I can’t tell you what the sweet spot is yet bc I’ve only used one manufacturer so far but I’d look for mid six figures and up if you wanna be real safe.

Chat with them and order a sample. Even if you buy from a vendor list you’ll need your own sample to make content with. I suggest buying one and first. It’s worth the wait because if you buy multiple and end up not liking them you’d have wasted money that could’ve gone into testing a different manufacturer.

Do not launch with more than 2 products. Even 2 is a stretch, wallai start with one.

This is because if you’re doing the preorder, which I suggest, you’ll be depending on customer orders to pay for the bulk order. Manufacturers do their moq by color or style. If you have too many options in your website and customers order a mix of things, you better pray you have enough money to cover the bulk for all those different styles. Stay safe and give them 1-2 options to choose from.

Pre order method is great if you don’t have a lot of cash to start with because the orders pay for themselves. Bulk orders start to wrack up. Especially if it’s a custom style or material. You don’t want to break the bank for something that might not sell.

Once you’ve gotten and approved your samples choose a launch date. 2-3 weeks before that launch dates post consistently. At least once a day but remember quality over quantity. Now don’t be tricked. Quality doesn’t mean a full cinematography. It means connecting with your audience and relating with them to a point where they’re like “this business gets it”. Either that or attaching yourself to an identity they want to have. “It girl ig influencer”, “feminine soft life babe” “clean girl Pilates princess” whatever the fuck it is embody ur as best as you can. When customers attach your product with an identity that is aspirational to them they will buy it without rationalizing. It’s why the luxury market makes so much off of ppl who can’t afford to buy it twice.

Focus on the backend

If you have a goal of getting an influx of orders and making a lot of sales, be sure that your business is structured in a way that can handle it happening at any given time. You know those tiktok businesses that get one viral video and sell out over night? That could be you but if you’re not prepared ppl are going to be upset. I suggest working backwards:

A customer service platform/inbox so that you can answer them right away with frequently asked questions.

Have stock so that you have something for customers to buy once they finally land on your website.

Have a well presenting website so that ppl don’t think you’re a scam. I’m going to do a post on this bc some of these business websites drive me fuckin nuts. Color theory ppl, color theory.

A social media page with some kind of social proof ie reviews from customers in some way shape or form. Ppl are going to be looking for what others have to say about your brand. Hire UGC creators to make videos that you can post on your page. They’re cheaper than influencers but still know how to convey the message well. You’ll have to have extra samples and items on hand to send them. Also check out their usage rights. Some will allow you to use their videos in ads but you have to pay extra and it’s only for a certain amount of time. But if they do it right, you’ll get a great return. Scared money don’t make no money.

A social media page that shows the products in movement and different lighting. I need to be able to imagine myself in the item before I buy it. Where would I wear it, how will it fit on me. Even when I’ve already ordered something I stay going back to the businesses social media page just to see the clothes again. I might even search it up to see other ppl wearing it.

Packaging

No need to go crazy with the packaging in the beginning. Don’t get me wrong, branding is important but as a beginner you may not have the money for that yet. You need to focus on spending money on what will give you the best return. Just get regular poly mailers from Amazon in your brand colors. You’ll also need:

A stack of 6x4 shipping labels

A thermal printer

A scale

When your manufacturer sends you the clothes they will most likely be in their own little bags. If not you can get those from Amazon too.

Later on you can go to alibaba and find a manufacturer to print you custom poly mailers for that extra edge. Put your logo, a cute message, and your social media handles on the bag and that’s it. Good to go.

You can also design your own thank you cards as well. I won’t be doing that.

Little things to remember

Don’t feel like you have to keep up with big brands. You don’t need to launch something every two weeks. As a matter of fact I advise against emulating super fast fashion brands. I only launch a new item once the pre ordered items have been shipped out to customers.

Be nice to your customers. You’d think this was obvious but it’s not. Some ppl are rude, ghetto, and uncouth. If you hate authority and have a smart mouth I think you should either take a customer service course or hire a virtual assistant from the Philippines to do your customer service for you because no customers = no money.

I’ll update this as I learn and grow:

12/18/2023

Influencers

Not every influencer with a mass follower base is going to be your influencer. It’s possible that you pay $5000 for an influencer with 75k followers to post your product on her page but that post makes you less than $3k. That means you’ve net negative $2k. What a fuckin waste of money.

This is why it’s important to develop a persona for your brand. What is your brand identity? Who is your target audience? What are their psychographics?

Where do currently shop? What are there favorite social media apps?What is their race? Their age? Their ethnicity? Are they in college or highschool? Do they have parents that support their lifestyle or are they hustlers? Are they concerned about price or quality more? Are they married? Do they have children? Are they environmentally conscious?

You need to embody Joe Goldberg and peer at them through their window. Acquaint yourself with every part of their life.

Also, you might not be your target demographic yet and that’s ok. The girls that shop with my brand have social lives. They go out with their friends and need outfits to wear. I don’t have a social life. The only clothes I wear are my work clothes to go to work and my robe when I’m at home.Or a sweat set and a bonnet to run errands.

Don’t think to yourself “ I would never wear that.” “I would never buy something at that price point”. That’s fine cuz someone else will. A lot of people will.

Another thing is your demographic could change once you start your business. It might be that you create content that attracts a different type of person than what you originally planned and that’s cool too. We don’t live in a perfect world. As long as they’re close enough to what you had predetermined it’s ok. Sometimes our business comes out different than we hoped but it’s just as good if not better. It’s like child. Don’t destroy its greatness trying to turn it into something it doesn’t want to be.

User generated content

Love, love, love her down. She’s that sweet spot between making content yourself and having an influencer with a large following make the content for you. UGC is a form of social proof which is something you need for an e-commerce brand especially. Ppl can’t just pop into your store and try on your stuff so they need the opinions of “regular” people to sell them on it. They want to see that person try it on, do a close up of the fabric, wear it to a social setting, etc;

What I like about UGC is that I can pick someone who fits into my brand persona to represent my brand even if I don’t. Someone that appears aspirational but still relatable. Like I said previously, you yourself might not embody your brands persona but you can pay someone who does.

A little translate for yall: I do not live in a nice apartment. My room is small, and dark, and filled with boxes. My living room has mix matched decor and I myself am not the body type I’d like to be (pls don’t hit me with body positivity babe). What I can do is pay a girl with the opposite of all those things and knows how to sell a product.

I have a girl right now that I’ve inquired to make posts for me and she’s got it all. Her rate for one video is $100 with an extra $30 for 90 days of usage in ads. $100 is the new 50 and for the return I’ll get on her, THATS A STEAL.

If you need to find a UGC creator search it up on tiktok and Twitter. Most of them have a portfolio of past work they’ve done. If you feel like they match your brands vibes, keep their info for when you’re ready.

I suggest to have a roster of them because if ppl keep seeing the same person over and over, the thought that that person is just a regular degular customer leaves their mind and you lose the magic of UGC.

Update 12/21/2023

I’ve been sick but yall ain’t paying me so it’s ok. Here’s the update.

Website

Your website is your home babe and when you’re preparing for guest you can’t have your home looking any type of way. Not only does it need to be clean but it needs to be cohesive and inviting.

You know how many times I’ve opened someone’s booking page on Instagram and I click off. Not only am I not reading through all of that small ass text but my head hurts cuz you’ve got a black font on a hot pink background.

Some of yalls websites to not comply with accessibility guidelines so pay attention to that bc you can be sued. Ppl should be able to read what you have on there without getting a headache.

Good rule of thumb is to have one primary color, and then black and white. Don’t over complicate it. Your primary color will be your logo, think twitters blue, then your secondary colors should be black and white, for your text. You might have an accent color like gold or silver, this should be used sparingly for a little dazzle.

If you’re a clothing brand like me, keep the text short and sweet. Think about it, when you go shopping on your favorite website are you bombarded with a soliloquy on how the collection came to be? And even if you are do you stop and read the whole thing? I don’t bc I don’t care. That’s what your Instagram story is for.

All I want to see is the attention grabber and a short,but convincing, tagline.

Example: Ski Resort 2023-“Stun the slopes and stand out on the ski lift with best sellers spotted at St. Moritz”

Let you images tell the rest of the story.

Don’t overwhelm them with options

Guys this is so important. The more options ppl see the less they buy or the less likely they are to buy. Why? This is the thought process.

“Omg the stuff on this website is so cute! Let me go through their catalog and add to my cart as I go”

5 minutes of scrolling

“Ok I have too many things in my cart let me just save to a wishlist instead”

Another 5 minutes of scrolling

“Ok I’ll just stop here and go back to my cart and decide what I’m going to get rn”

Goes to cart

Spends 10 minutes deciding what she’s gonna get bc there’s so many good options

Takes 10 items out of her cart and only buys two basics bc she knows those are less likely to disappoint.

And scene

That is if she didn’t leave after the second five minutes of scrolling. Nowadays five minutes on a non stimulating website is a lot, don’t let it take that long.

Obviously this also depends on the customers budget. Some people have the money to just buy everything in their cart (I wish- one day), but most are just window shopper you hope to convert with your nice styles, images, and prices. Don’t make it harder for people to give you their money.

I have more but I’m tired of writing so I’ll update yall tmrw.