#I’m trying to make it a similar style to make it fit it

[ohno-the-sun]

Hmm wanted to try challenging myself to make an earth design for @oobbbear s celestial twins au (since they mentioned not really wanting to make one)

Not sure I’m happy with how they turned out, may do some tweaking

[sierrale8ne]

more smut with black reader but like jealous paige maybe?

paige bueckers x black!fem!reader

chat, the ellie williams fics was getting to me bc this one is a tad freaky not gonna yie!

nsfw // porn no plot, dom!paige, bratty!sub!reader, strap-on sex, strap sucking (for the dyke culture🙂‍↕️), sex tape, daddy kink, spit kink, degradation, humiliation if you squint, dacryphilia, squirting.

“We’re not togther, Paige! Quit fucking bitchin’ at me.”

Your words rang through Paige’s mind the entire drive to your apartment from the bar the two of you had gone to. You were right, there was no official title on what you and Paige were, but she thought there was at least a mutual understanding that you both weren’t to be seeing anyone else.

Apparently not though, because not only did Paige catch sight of you getting drinks from and flirting with quite a few girls throughout the night, she also watched as you dance on and exchange numbers with a girl that looked a little to too similar to herself.

“Shut the fuck up, bro. I’m not playin’ wit’ you.” She shook her head, forcing you to your knees as she sat on your couch. She had already threw off the black shirt she wore, as well as her sweats leaving her in just her boxers and nike sports bra. A strap you hadn’t seen before fit onto her hips.

She didn’t care a single bit about the pain that shot through your knees when you hit the ground, or the fact that the rubbing of your jean skirt against your thighs felt like a rope burn.

She gripped the girth in her hand, slightly slapping the side of your face with it before pushing the tip to your lips. “Get it wet for me. C’mon.” She instructed. Paige’s free hand sunk into your nicely styled hair, pulling you closer to her cock as you opened her mouth and let her slip it inside.

The silicone sat heavily on your tongue as your mouth attempted to get accustomed to the stretch. You placed your hands on Paige’s thighs, trying to set a rhythm but she didn’t like that one bit.

She sunk her hand deeper into your hair, tugging the roots and pushing your head down until you gagged.

“Keep fuckin’ playing with me.” She muttered. Paige leaned back against the couch cushions, watching you as you gagged, spit dribbling down your chin. “You’re never gon’ disrespect me like that again. You hear me?”

You were still pissed off. And your lack of muffled response let the blonde know that everything she was saying was going in one ear and out the other.

She pushed your head further, finding a pace she liked and making you suck her cock until your nose nestled against the base of the harness. You scratched at her thighs, eyes watering until they spilled over and tears stained your cheeks. The strapless top you wore now was for sure ruined, Paige didn’t even bother to pull it off you and now here you sat with saliva covering your favorite going out top.

Paige pulled you back, letting you catch your breath as you whined and tried to fight her grip on your hair. She leaned towards you, with your mouth wide she gathered her own saliva before spitting it into your mouth. She smiled at the way your eyes fluttered shut before opening again for more.

“On your back right here, baby. Hurry up.” She instructed, finally letting go of your hair. But here you were, disobeying yet again. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, frowning when you looked down at your shirt.

“Paige!” You whined. “Look at what you did.” You spoke, attempting to salvage what was left of the dirty lace material.

Paige responded with your name, she was very stern not finding you funny at the moment. “I’m tryna be nice to you right now, and you wanna piss me off. I don’t care about the fuckin’ shirt. Lay back.” She spoke through gritted teeth. Her hand gripped your arm, dragging you to where she sat on the couch and pinning you to it.

Her hands just barely rucked up your skirt, it still sat uncomfortably on your hips, but it gave her just the right amount of freedom to get a look at the crotchless panties you wore. “You were gonna let her see you like this? Gonna give my pussy away to some girl who don’t even know you like me?”

“You’re just mad because I’m right. We’re not together and that’s why— fuck!” Your sentence was cut off by the feeling of her cock slipping into you.

The size was so foreign, making your eyes go wide and your mouth fall slack. Your legs began to close and Paige pushed them open. “I’m mad at you, ‘cause you’re a fuckin’ whore.” She grunted, pushing her hips into you faster, forcing you to take every inch of the lengthy silicone.

“Wait, P. Fuck!” You moaned, reaching a hand down to her abs and she slapped it away.

She nearly laughed at you, “Nah take it, mama.” Her voice rang through your ears as she literally split you open, your legs stretched wide until you swore you could feel her hitting past your stomach. “You wanna act like a slut, you get fucked like one.

Everytime you and Paige got intimate she was so dedicated to making it a good time for the both of you, she loved being able to reach that high simultaneously. But with the way she was fucking you right now, she didn’t care. Your brattiness had been on a different level tonight and she was so angry with everything that went down, that she didn’t even think about her own pleasure.

“You’re mine. I don’t give a fuck about if it’s official or not.”

“Fuck you.”

You had effectively hammered the nail in the coffin with that one. Her cock slipped into you deeper, moans and cries of her name slipping past your lips jumbled together. Your head fell back onto the pillow behind it, attempting to claw at her nearby hand.

Paige reached for your phone by your head, effortlessly unlocking it and pressing the camera app. The flash that came from your phone illuminated your brown skin in a beautiful light. The sheen of sweat on your collarbones and an old faded hickey from a few nights before.

Her free hand abandoned your leg, heading for your shirt that you had seemingly forgotten about and tugging it to reveal your breasts.

“Look at them pretty fuckin’ titties. Play with ‘em for me.” She demanded.

For the first time tonight you quickly obeyed her commands, your hands moving to fondle your tits as an alternative to soothing the ache between your legs. Paige dropped her hand back to your knee, pushing it back slightly to give herself and the camera a much needed view of your cunt taking every inch of her lengthy strap.

“Who’s fucking you, ma?”

“You!” You cried out, gasping for something to fill your lungs and bring you back to reality. Tears slipped past your eyes and stained your cheeks. “You, daddy. Aww, fuck! I’m sorry!” You apologized, hoping that would ease her continued assault on your sopping wet pussy.

Paige laughed for real this time. The laugh so authentic and audible through the speakers of your phone. “No you’re not. You just want me to treat you like my girl again. Right? You want me to fuck you like you’re my baby, and not like the whore you decided to be tonight.”

“Mm gonna cum, Paige. That’s my spot— gonna cum!” You hiccuped.

Her thumb shamelessly zoomed in to where you covered the clear strap-on in a sheen of your cream. “You better hold that shit. I’m not playing.” She followed up her words with slowing down her insanely fast thrusts, stroking your pussy slow and deep as she gripped your chin in her hand.

“Tell the camera whose pussy this is.” She ordered. Your phone case came to view and you were nearly blinded by the light it shone in your face. “I swear to God I’ll make sure you don’t come for weeks.” She threatened. Paige knew you would struggle, in fact she was counting on it.

Your cries nearly drowned out your attempts to speak. You couldn’t focus with how slowly she was fucking you, your clit burned from lack of stimulation, and your were so embarrassed to be in this position in the first place.

“Yours, P.” You finally got out.

“Who? Say it again.”

You took a deep breath, feeling your orgasm approach fast. “Paige! Paige, it’s yours!” Your eyes rolled back and you attempted to push her off of you. She sat back a little, wrapping your legs around her waist.

Paige sped up just barely. Her focus was catching how you look on camera, just as much as she wanted to make you finish. Her hand dropped to apply pressure to your clit.

“Let me cum. Please.” Your voice came out in a hoarse whine as your covered your face in embarrassment. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“I’ll let you cum, ma. Let me see your face.” Paige’s tone was probably the nicest it had been all night. She was so turned on with the sight of your tits and your tears and the drool off your lips. She wanted to get it on camera so she could spend road trips touching herself to it. She needed it. “Fuckin’ cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

Your cum nearly shot out of you like a sprinkler, a loud moan of her name leaving your lips that you could only imagine the neighbors would hate you come morning. You wet her abs with how hard you came, the lewd sound of you squirting was picked up by your phone, even reaching the camera lens.

“Oh my God, Paige.” You breathed out, falling weakly against the couch.

She cut the video and dropped the phone, reminding herself to send it to her phone later. Paige pulled out of you gently, trying not to hurt you with how wide she just split you. The inevitable squelch it left you with made her laugh her way into your neck.

“Play with me again and I’ll send that shit to the next bitch who thinks it’s cute to buy you drinks.”

A breathy chuckle left your lips, knowing that she was joking but not knowing how much of it was really a joke. Even through your laughs, you still were focused on the cause of your argument in the first place.

“Ask me to be your girl first.”

author’s note pls enjoy this shorter post and don’t comment on any typos and shit bc i do NOT be revising… sorry 😅. got hella requests coming out so be ready guys ;)

[plussizefantasia]

More Body, More Money

Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

warnings: Allusion to smut towards the end, references to a female body and that body being bigger

an: holy shit sorry for disappearing for so long. I make no promises as to when I'll come back as I seem to have a habit of breaking those. I've been in a Bridgerton mood recently though and typed this on my phone in like an hour so no promises that it's all that good. I will say though that I've been working on a request recently and it's currently at 4k and counting which is by far the longest fic I've ever written and I'm not even to the good part yet. I've also finished outlining the rest of the parts for my Kili x reader fic. I think that's it though, thanks for reading this far if you did and for putting up with my bs.

“Darling, could you come here a moment?” Your husband called from his desk. Recently you had taken to reading while lounging on the couch in his study. It was a great way to spend time with your busy husband while also letting him get his work done. 

You didn’t exactly know what he was working on at the moment but apparently, your presence was needed to solve whatever issue he had stumbled upon. It wasn’t until you got closer to his desk that you noticed the receipts and ledgers sprawled across his desk. He was updating the families' books and tracking the spending that you and the rest of his family had done that month. 

“Yes, my love?” You moved to rest your hand on his back and traced it across his shoulders and on his neck. It was as if you two were magnets, unable to keep apart for very long. If you were close enough then you would feel your hands gravitating towards him. And if the way his arm moved to rest on your back as well, he had the same urges when in proximity to you. 

“I’ve noticed something odd in the charges from the modiste.” Anthony handed you the papers. Both you and Eloise had gone to the modiste at the beginning of the month to be fitted for some new gowns to prepare for her second season in the marriage mart and your first season as the Viscountess. 

“I’ll admit to not being the most knowledgeable about gowns and other frivolities my love, but is it normal for the cost difference to be this large? I mean when Ben and I get new suits the price is almost always similar.” He pointed to the two prices listed on the bill from Madame Delacroix. 

You didn’t know how to respond to this, you knew the reason behind the price difference between yours and Elioises dresses, of course, it was something that you had thought of already. After all, it was the same reason that your younger sister always got more gowns than you every season that the two of you attended growing up. You were larger, and as the modiste you had gone to grow up with had said “More body means more fabric means more money.” more money that your father had deemed unnecessary so you had only ever gotten one or two new dresses while your sister would be fitted for five or six of the newest and most flattering styles.

But how could you explain this to Anthony? That your dresses cost more than his sisters because you were bigger, and that meant more money.

You knew Anthony loved your body, he worshiped it often in fact but there was a difference between getting lost in the softness of your embrace and seeing the real-life sometimes the financial consequences of living in a bigger body.

“Oh, Anthony, it is uh- just a matter of resources I suppose.” 

He raised a brow at you. “I’m not sure I understand. What do you mean by resources?”

“Well dear husband, you and your brother are very similar in height and build which means the two of you have very similar resource usage, whereas myself and your sister are quite different in the… resource usage department.”

“My love, I need you to speak to me as if I am an idiot.” 

You deeply sighed and prepared yourself to have the conversation that you had been trying and failing to get out of. “Eloise is small, therefore it does not take as much fabric to make her dresses, whereas I am quite well endowed and my dresses require more material. More body means more fabric means more money it is as simple as that.” 

“That is preposterous, are you both not getting dresses?” His tone was getting more defensive, and it warmed your heart to know that he was willing to get upset at the simple fact that Madame Delacroix had charged you more because your dress was bigger. You had expected him to be embarrassed, and deep down somewhat afraid that he would realize that he had signed himself up for these extra expenses for the rest of his life by marrying you. 

“Well darling, think about it, would you expect to pay the same amount for a child as you would for yourself? Do you not pay more for your suits than you do Greg’s?”

“No, I see your point darling.”

“That is all this is my love, different sizes of clothing cost different amounts. If it is a problem I can just see about getting some of my old gowns altered to make them somewhat nicer for the new season, that way you would not have to spend as much.”

“What? No. Darling, this is not about the money, I was merely worried that that woman had tried to take advantage of you, charging you far more than Eloise for the same thing. I couldn’t care less about the money. In fact, I think you should get ten more gowns made, show everyone in the Ton that I am married to the most voluptuous, sensual, and desirable woman in the world.” He pulled you closer to him so that you were standing in between his spread knees, you still standing over him as he leaned back in his chair.

Anthony began training kisses up and down the arm that he had grasped within his hand. Turning your wrist over so that he could place one at the center of your palm. 

“I do not need ten new gowns, Anthony, that is far too much.” You giggled and protested, feeling more enamored with the man you married with every word out of his mouth.

“Perhaps I shall buy you ten diamond necklaces then so that I can have an excuse to stare at your chest as often as I’d like.” You snorted and gently smacked the back of his head. “Anthony Bridgerton, that is scandalous talk and you know it.”

“Nothing is scandalous between husband and wife, especially when the two are alone.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and lifted the corners of his lips into a sultry grin, one that had your knees feeling weaker by the second. 

“All I really need, dear husband, is you.”

A smile that you could only consider adoring spread across your husband's face.

“And I you, my love.”

“No Anthony, I need you.”

His grin turned to a full-blown smirk spreading across his face, “Well, what the Viscountess needs she gets…” 

;)

[marharheehee]

I made some silly sketch doodles of these guys for an idea that they were given a dance to learn and preform it by the end of the week.

Just now realizing how similar the designs are to @g00bergoo’s Skater Pomni design and @pikavsketch’s design of Gangle also being a Ballerina or Ribbon dancer I didn’t know about until literally 2 hours ago after I already made these concepts 😭

They’re both incredible and deserve a follow and love!! <3

• I made Pomni Hip Hop bc she’s the main character basically and I fr just searched up “most popular dance style” and Hip Hop was the first thing. Also I really wanted an excuse to make a design like hers lol. Her knee patches say “Pom Pom” btw and on the back of her pants it says “Pomni” on her booty bc I feel like it’s be a funny little design lol, might draw it later

• Gangles Ribbon dancer idea was obvious and tbh not very creative on my part but thats why I wanted to make her have a ballerina type style.

• Kinger was actually my brothers idea he gave me and Disco seemed to fit him as it’s on the older side and I felt like it would be funny tbh, might end up changing it if anyone has any good ideas for me!!

•Poor Zooble I actually made their concept first and realized I didn’t like where the design was going. Now I feel like it would be better that Caine tried to make Zooble a tap dancer but later made them into a Music composer/DJ because that would be the only way they would participate. They can tap but they dislike preforming it due to their limbs being so finicky, so them being a DJ or composer would be cooler imo so i’ll cook on that.

————————————————————————

As for Ragatha and Jax I have an idea for them but idk if i’ll end up making them (unless theres a high demand for them so lmk if ur interested ig ^^’)

Heads up: I wouldn’t say im trying to make this an AU by any means btw, more like a fun adventure idea than anything but either way i’m just trying to have fun with it lol :]]

[soleilnewspaper]

Broken promises

Series masterlist

Summary: Regulus reminds you of a promise you made to him in childhood and how you have broken it. You return from a weekend trip to find Remus in the hospital wing. Sirius knows he can’t hide Remus’s condition for you any longer.

Pairing: platonic Regulus x fem!reader, poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, fighting with friends, feeling inadequate, cliffhanger, talks of blood and bruises (from the full moon)

Word count: 1.9k

AN: I’m terribly ill and doc ordered me to say in bed, so sleep and write is all I have done today lol. Sorry it’s a little short. Thank you for your time :)

December 24th, 1970

Number 12 Grimmauld Place, North West of London, hidden from the eyes of muggles. The Black family took pride in the fact that they were hosting the Yule Eve dinner party. They were Pureblood royalty after all.

The house was decorated in festive decorations for the upcoming Yule celebrations custom of the sacred 28 society. The food alone could surely feed an entire orphanage.

A young Regulus, at a mere nine years old yet dressed far better than most adults. The scratchy material of his dress robes had been bothering him from the moment his mother had forced him into them. His black locs were combed back with magical gel to ensure he remained perfect for the night.

Clasped his small hand, you ran along with him. The frills from your pink dress made it difficult to much. It overwhelmed your body. You thought you looked like a large ball of cotton candy. Which your mother had scolded you for even thinking such a thing.

Trails of pristine white ribbons once worn in your hair now lay tossed on the freshly polished floors of the manor. Your house elf had been ordered by your mother to ‘tame’ your hair earlier that night. Hours of work had been in vain as your locs had bounced back only moments ago. Sliver jewerly adorned your neck sparkling in the candle lit hallway.

Kreacher had turned a blind eye to your ‘escape’ from the dinner. Neither of your mothers had noticed your absence yet. Something which both Regulus and you were beyond grateful for. Merlin knows what your punishment would be for daring to participate in such childish behaviour. For, being a pureblood meant you never were a child. You were simply an investment.

Regulus was the spare, the second choice, a precautionary measure that his parents had taken should Sirius prove to not be eligible. You, on the other hand, were born a girl. Which meant you were to be married off the moment you were of legal age. Although you had heard the stories of girls who had been forced to marry long before that. Your potential husband would be most likely related to you in some way.

Your mother would often gossip about how the Black Family ‘kept things in the family’ in reference to how cousins married each other frequently. However, truth be told, all pureblood were related in some way or other. Pureblood had been facing excitation for centuries. In order to keep their lines ‘pure’ they needed to dip their toes into the pool of incest. The sacred 28 all crossed over if you were to look close enough. Which is why you thought your mother to be a hypocrite.

Regulus pulled you into a nock in the attic. Whilst you were still in a fit of giggles.

“My lady.” Regulus pretended to bow, taking an old feathered hat on and then off his head.

“Why thank you, kind sir.” You responded through a set of giggles. Giving him a curtse in return, just as your mother had taught you.

Regulus took your hand and guided you to sit down with him on the floor, placing his suit jacket down to avoid you getting your dress dirty. You picked up the ends of your dress to try make it easier on you to sit down. A proof sound was heard the second you touched the floor. As you quite literally fell on your ass from the sheer size of the dress. Your mother was a beautiful woman but her style was eccentric to say the least. She had dressed your sister and brother in a similar fashion, both of who were being good children and still in the dining hall.

“Will you consider promising me something, Y/N?” The boy’s language was far better than most adults you knew. Pureblood society doing of course. You were both already fluent in Latin and Greek while Regulus knew French as well. It being his family’s main language after all.

“Whatever do you mean, Reggie?” You asked in the same tone. Frowning your small brows in confusion.

“Would it be to much to ask, if you could promise to be mine forever.” His statement confused you at first causing him to explain further. “We both know our mothers will marry us off one of these days, but please choose me, your friend first.”

“As long as you promise to choose me always and forever.” You smiled back at him.

“Best friends before lovers?” Regulus asked you unsure of himself.

“I would rather have live a life with no love, than live one without you as my friend.” You took ahold of his hand gently.

“I do not wish to condemn you to a love of loneliness, Y/N.” He dropped his hand from yours, fearing he was asking you too much with your friendship.

“Reggie, with you by my side, I could never be lonely.” That had earned you a smile from him, a one larger than you had ever seen before.

Present time

Regulus Arcturus Black would never be your lover. No, your bond proceeded that of romantic expectations. Your bond would always be platonic, but it would be the deepest bond you would ever have. For your souls wore bind together in no way a lover could understand. Even if it was a childish desire to ask for your loyalty forever. To chose him over everyone else in the world. You knew, that in truth, there was only one person he had asked you to never choose over him. His brother. Which is exactly what you had done. The one thing he had begged of you all those years ago, you had done without hesitation. Breaking his trust doesn’t even cover the cost your newfound relationship had taken to your oldest one.

He was not angry nor was he upset with you. Regulus felt hurt, betrayed even. In all his life, he had lived with the expectation that he would always be second best. Only this past summer had his parents began to pay attention to him after Sirius had left home. Officially disowning their eldest, made Regulus their heir. He was only valued once Sirius was gone. For once in his life, people had began to look at him instead. It had been a long time coming, since the moment Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor. The light slowly began to shift to the younger brother. Yet, never completely, not until now. Within the span of a few weeks he had become the star of the family. A fact which had only served to make him bitter because he knew the care of his family was conditional. For they had hardly offered him a look before he was proved to be their last hope of salvation.

The worse part was Sirius believed Regulus was the first choice. When in fact he had never been someone’s first choice in anything. That is excluding you. Regulus had always been your first choice. It was something which he had come to held dearly in the span of his fifteen years of life.

Despite being a few months younger than Sirius, and almost a whole year older than Regulus. You had chosen to be his friend. As children, your mother urged you to make connection with Sirius, but you never did. Regulus was who you chose to spend your time with. Up until Hogwarts neither one of you had any real friends besides each other. Barty did not run in the same circles as the two of you before Hogwarts. The rosier twins didn’t form a friendship with you until Regulus’s first year at Hogwarts which had been their first too.

He had only asked one thing of you, and you could not give him that. You now understood his anger. Yet you still felt defensive as you were in a vulnerable state.

“You do not get to held a childish promise over my head!” You yelled, your voice reaching across the common room.

“It is not about the promise, Y/N.” Regulus stated with lips pulled into a thin unreadable expression.

“Then what is it about, Regulus?” Anger severed through your throat as you spoke.

“Rage does not consume me for the mere fact of your entanglement in a romantic relationship. As one of your closest friends, I comprehend that it is beyond my jurisdiction to dictate the auspices under which you choose to allocate your precious hours. Yet, I implored solely that you not date my own brother.” Regulus paced around the room, his hand running through hair multiple times before he turned to face you directly.

“For it is your preference that leans towards him, and no longer me. He is accustomed to being selected first and foremost in all things. I am not. Barty, Evan, Pandora and you were mine; untill you chose me over me. The one thing you promised, swore, you would never do.” Regulus voice no longer held anger, it was filled with hurt. He pointed a a finger towards your chest to further his point. Breathless as he spoke.

“Reg…” You moved towards him but he flinched away from your touch. “My relationship with him does not change the friendship I have with you.”

“Liar.”

“You say that, yet you continue to be with him. To chose him.” Regulus walked away from you but you followed without hesitation.

“You are being over dramatic.”

“Am I, so am I to just discard the only person who truly understands me. In order to allow you to satisfy your desires.” Regulus used the boot of his shoe to kick the table lightly.

“You do not mean that.” Tears were beginning to form in your eyes.

“What other choice have you given me?” Regulus breathed out barely forming words.

“I never intended to lose you, Reg.”

“Oh, well then everything is sorted. Is it not. Far be it that I have feelings and reactions to your actions.”

“Please, stop, I beg of you.” Your voice was pleading with him now.

“Would you do one decency?”

“Anything.”

“Tell me why did it have to be him.” You heard the crack in his voice as he spoke. Arms at his side and legs planted on the floor.

You squeezed your eyes shut at his question. Knowing whatever your answer would only serve to hurt him further.

“I fell for him. I tried not to. Believe me I did, but I cannot ignore my feelings anymore. Please forgive me.”

“Forgiveness does not come easy, Y/N.” Regulus eyes roared with anger, but you knew there still lay hurt behind them. “But I don’t want to lose you.”

“Does that mean…” The steps you took towards him were careful and precise to not spook him with your actions.

“I would could never live without your friendship. It pains me so, but I know I have to forgive you, but do not ask me to forgive him.”

Tears pooled in your eyes as the words left his cold lips. Before another moment could pass, you wrapped your arms around his torso. To your surprise he accepted your affection. He had never been one to allow affectionate gestures, it simply was not his way of expressing himself. Yet, in the rare moments when he allowed himself to let another in, his warmth would be unlimited.

“Can I assume I have my best friend back?” Your voice was muffled by Regulus’ green Qudditch jersey.

He pulled away from the hug but kept physical contact with you by placing both of his hands on your sides.

“You never lost me.”

Sounds of students began to fill the common room as they returned from the pitch and great hall. Undoubtedly complaining and/or talking about the lack of victory Slytherin had acquired in today’s events.

“One last thing, Y/N.” Regulus spoke in a hushed tone to avoid being interrupted or ease dropped on.

“Anything.”

“If my brother hurts you, there’s not a place in the world he’d be able to hide from me. Blood may be thicker than water, but my loyalty for you will always outweigh my loyalty for him. Never doubt that for a moment.”

“I appreciate it, but that’s not necessarily-“

“Believe me when I say, negotiation is not an option here. You will lose this argument.” Regulus’s dark eyes were completely serious and his face showed no signs of amusement.

“Is your plan to treat me like a child of divorce?”

“Mmm, we’ll work on the arrangements later.” Regulus smiled at you, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You know you will always be my best friend, right?” You asked taking his hand in yours.

“Don’t tell Barty that, he might kill me.” Regulus leaned into you.

“Well we would’t want that, now would we.”

The life of a pureblood had taught you many things. None of which had seamed to prove helpful in any way shape or form for your current situation.

While you might have seamed to patch things up with Regulus for the most part. Although you still were treading in dangerous waters. At least you could sleep soundly knowing he was willing to come around to the idea. In time, of course.

Yet, you still faced another dilemma; your relationship. Secrets were being kept from you, that was obvious enough, but what the secret was remained a mystery to you.

It didn’t help that Sirius and Remus seamed to have no intention of letting you in on it anytime soon. Taking into consideration how much history the two had, you continued to feel out of place in your own relationship, and feared for how much long you could take it.

For the past three days, you had to be condemned to visiting your oh so loving family. Torture did not even begin to cover it. Though you knew there were pureblood children in worst situations. The Blacks were a prime example. Leading you to appreciate your dysfunctional family because at least they had never used an unforgivable curse on you. To say the bar was low would be an understatement.

So as you walked through the castle walls having returned from your trip. Your mind began to wonder. However, your moment of peace was short lived as you passed the Hospital Wing.

You couldn’t see much but you could see Sirius who was walking towards the door. Through a series of lies, excuses and distractions, the boys had managed to occlude you from Remus’s condition. Yet, your weekend away just so happened to be a full moon. A particularly horrific one in fact. No chance were they going to be able to hide it from you now.

Sirius’s sliver eyes were accompanied by purple eye bags from staying up all night with Remus. Hair fell in disarray and tangles were visible in his usual elegant locs. He appeared gaunt, almost as if the life had been drained out of him.

Upon seeing you, a serge of panic ripped through his entire being.

“Oh Salvar.” You rushed towards him in panic searching his face for signs of injury. It only worked to make him feel more guilty than he already was.

“S’m nothin’.” Tiredness and worry were evident in his voice.

“Sirius, do not take me for a fool.”

“I’m not, honestly, just-“ Whilst barely finding the energy to form words, you interrupted him with rage already approaching.

“What’ll be this time, huh?” Hands fell from his face leaving a cold chill. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, you were beyond rage, you were done.

“It’s not like that, baby.” His voice begged for sympathy but you refused to show the effort he had on you.

“Where’s Remus?”

Sirius’s eyes widen at the thought of you seeing Remus in his current state. You stepped forward to enter the hospital wing causing him to plant himself in front of you. Using his height to block your view. Your flight or fight activated. Making use of the large space of the room you tricked him by making him believe you were headed one way and then pushed past him in the other.

As soon as you had escaped his gasp, Sirius ran after you in panic. However, with our tired he was, he didn’t have the strength to carry through.

Remus lay curled up on the hospital bed. Bandages surrounded his body in multiple places. Most seamed clean but others had large red stains from blood. Bruises and cuts decorated his body like Christmas lights. The beautiful brown eyes that you had come to cherish so dearly had taken on a dull hue. With dark circles surround them and bloodshot eyes. His hair stuck up in all different directions filled with dirt and a sneer of blood.

A whine escaped the thin werewolf when he turned on his side to see who had entered. His eyes struggled to focus for a few moments to depict your figure, but when he did, he swore he felt just like he did before people knew about his secret. Ashamed, scared, horrified all mixed into self loathing.

“Remus?” You managed to choke out through the tears that had began to form in your eyes upon seeing him.

“Hey, dovie.”

Taglist: @maraudersforlife2005 @xlxnq

[platypusundercover]

May i request something for Argenti and boothill. For each of their scenarios, theyre being reckless on behalf of others as usual and get seriously injured. Their eyes closing, believing fully that theyre going to die. Only to open their eyes again to reader gently caring for their wounds and teafully scolding them.

@dragon-anon

Thank you for the request !! Went a bit crazy with Boothill here, it's like twice the size of Argenti's... First time writing reader-insert, I don't know if it fits well with my usual style but I tried my best. I hope this meets what you were looking for ! Please let me know what you think :D

Argenti

The chase for Idrilla brought him every corner of the Galaxy, from the most beautiful of villages to the war-ravaged plains. Beauty was in life, in the seed turning into a flower and in the first cry of a newborn. For as much beauty as there was in life, and equal amount could be found in death. In the leaves falling in autumn to the sweet smile of a loved one ready to depart.

Was he ready to depart? He didn’t think so. Yet it was not his choice anymore. He reassured himself with the fact that he wouldn’t fall to the Omen of Evil. He pressed a few buttons to enter your location before sitting in the command chair of the One and Only.  He could feel the warmth of his blood coating his shirt and vest, sticky under his fingers. Yet he could only think of one thing… How he wished to see your face one last time, to witness beauty once again before dying.

When he reopened his eyes, he met a vaguely familiar ceiling. His head felt like it was filled with fog and nothing made sense around him. As his mind processed all the sensory inputs one by one, a gasp caught his attention. You were sitting beside the bed, his arm in your hands, eyes alert, although they were red and puffy as if you had been crying. He looked at you without saying a word. His emerald eyes roamed your face, your lips, you nose, your eyebrows, then stopping on your eyes.

He sighed with a gentle smile and closed his eyes again. If this was to be death, then he’d accept it. He had seen you one last time, what a blessing.

“Argenti?” You whispered, voice cracking.

He reopened his eyes and moved his head in your direction. You exhaled shakily.

“Thank the Aeons you’re alright.”

You leaned and put your elbows on your knees, his hands still in both or yours. You had just finished treating the minor cuts. You leaned your forehead against the back of his hand.

“I thought you were dead…” Your throat was tight, chest heavy with tears threatening to fall again. Freely now.

Argenti blinked.

“Am I not?”

“Of course you’re not!” You looked up, alarmed. “I found you bleeding all over your ship and I’ve been taking care of you for the past 2 hours!” The tears finally fell down your cheeks. “When I received the ping from your ship as it got close to the station, I was so happy I went out to wait for you at the docks.” You swallowed a new wave of tears. “But you didn’t come out. So, I called for you and you didn’t answer. I forced my way inside and- You- you were-” You sob. “There was blood everywhere. Never do that again. Please.”

The knight took a deep breath, your tears somehow guiding him out of the fog of his senses. The hurt in your voice pierced his heart. He can’t begin to imagine how he’d feel if he had found you in a similar position. He turned his hand to grasp yours.

“I’m so sorry.”

Boothill

Well, fuck. He was sitting in an alley after a chase with some IPC goons, and usually it was to catch his ‘breath’ and celebrate. Now though… his vision was clouded with warning messages. Oil leak, low battery, low coolant level, stuck fans, foreign object in ammo tank. He recognized only a third of them but it was pretty clear, he was not in the best shape. His eyes unfocused and refocused on loop, trying to make sense of his surrounding. He looked down, one of his legs was clearly busted, by some kind of shrapnel round. Bastards.

Another error blasted his vision, this one larger and redder than all the others. The countdown made it obvious what this one meant. He was going to shut down, and in a back alley like this, hiding behind the trash cans, the math was simple. He was going to be tossed by the garbage bots like any other piece of trash and that’ll be the end of his tale. Fucking hell. He didn’t even get close to his goal… What does that make him? What about his promise? What about his family? No one will be there to remember them now… Well, not no one. There was still you. He smiled, content with the thought of you carrying some of the tales of his home and his daughter. Aeons, he missed her so much…

His systems partially came online. He could hear first. The noise of screws and metal and fluid pumping. Then he could smell. The hot soldering iron and motor oil. The he could see. You, running around, grease on your gloves and cheeks, goggles firmly posted on your nose, completely ignoring him. So, he hadn’t been trashed. Not yet. He was held upright hovering off the ground by the port on his back, supplying his body with all the energy it needed. He tried to talk but his voice box must have been removed or disconnected because no sound escaped his mouth but a quip of static. That’s what made you turn around from the soldering iron to face him.

You removed your goggles and the look on your face would have silenced him if he was talking. You were glaring at him, clearly mad, your eyebrows furrowed, eyes swelled. You stayed silent as you went to dig into his torso once again, putting in the fan you just finished fixing. He didn’t try to move and do anything, he knew why you were mad, and didn’t want to aggravate his case.

Once it was snug into place, you retracted and closed Boothill’s chest panels, screwing them back on. The silence was heavy. You ran back to your monitor and he kept staring at you, although it didn’t garner any reaction from you.

You typed a few things and Boothill could see the telltale lines of logs of a full diagnostic running in front of his eyes. He closed them. Then he saw a list of his systems in green, all online. That must include his voice box.

“Hey Doc.” He tried, voice still recalibrating after the shutdown. “Got a bit bruised up there, huh?” He joked.

You refused to look at him as you approached to reattach his missing legs; its hinges, reconnecting the compressed air tubes for the joint, then latching the cable for the captors. Your eyebrows were scrunched together still but not in anger anymore it seemed. You turned back to your monitor, staring at it for a few second as if the recompose yourself and before you could click to start the automated joint test, he talked again.

“Thought I was going to be tossed like garbage, honest. Glad I ended up here instead.”

You pursed your lips and approached again, checking the execution of the synthetic limb as it was responding to commands to bend, flex, and turn. All seemed to be working great. You reattached the metal panels there too to cover the joints and sealed it shut, like you did for the torso a few minutes before.

“Aah c’mon, you gon’ ignore me now?” You stopped in your tracks. “I know the gear’s expensive but I’ll pay you back I sw-“

“I don’t care if it’s expensive!” You blurted out, a mix of anger and sadness in your voice.

Boothill stayed silent and as you returned to the monitor one final time, you hit a key and the mechanical arm holding him afloat lowered, gently putting the cowboy down on the ground. You lowered your head and grasped the edge of the desk with your hands, tears finally spilling over your cheeks.

“I don’t care about how much your spare pieces cost; I don’t care if you scratch the brand new panel I installed 2 weeks ago.” You explained, voice strained, finally looking up at him. “What I care about is not having you almost die on me every month or so. Why are you so reckless?” Your anger wavered. “Why do you have to disregard your own life like that? I am trying my hardest every time to make you stronger, but you always manage to find more trouble.”

You breathed deeply and looked at him in the eyes. His face was painted in remorse.

“Aeons, and then what? What happens if I’m not here to scrape you off the pavement and piece you back together, huh? Then what? That’s it?” You sobbed.

He took long strides over to you and took you in his arms, in a hug. He had always been reckless, that’s true. He couldn’t just stand by when witnessing the shit some officers would let fly. He had to do something, damnit! But he didn’t expect this to affect you so much… His heart dipped.

“I promise, I’ll be better.”

© platypusundercover - 2024 || Request rules

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Jacket | Seth Jarvis

wc. 1.6k

Jarvy sees you in the wags playoff jacket for the first time

(not my best writing tbh. im sorry!)

Growing up, you never had an affinity for fashion. 

Your mom was the one who always dressed you and middle school was always that awkward fashion era of everyone’s lives. In high school the different outfits everyone wore had started to pique your interest, wanting to finally find your own style and make yourself feel more confident overall. 

By college you had hit your stride and everyone in your life was incredibly confused when you decided to major in fashion business. Your dad was over the moon that you added the business side of it, being a finance director himself, and while your mom was still confused, she enjoyed the new fashion advice from her daughter. 

You grew up in North Carolina, heading to FIT in New York for your undergrad before returning home. You spent that summer trying your best to figure out what to do with this new degree, when your life intertwined with Seth Jarvis. Through a mess of awkward run ins, late nights, and a final first date that sealed the deal, you were quick to realize that Seth was it for you. Three years later and you and Seth were closer than ever. He was on his way to another playoff run while you had been living your dream job for a couple of years now. 

As April loomed near and the season was coming to an end, the wag groupchat had started to pick up. The girls were discussing playoff chances and who should be planning the wag jackets this year and you were voted the number one choice. You tried to get out of it, worried that what you made wouldn’t be good enough but the girls shut you down quickly, knowing whatever you make would be iconic. 

You found yourself dreaming up ideas in the middle of meetings, doodling in the corners of your notebooks, looking up colors and fabrics, and finally caving to create a full fledged design when Seth had come bounding home with the news of a playoff clinch. 

The drawing you come up with is a high school varsity style jacket in black, the front saying Carolina in uppercase bold red letters, with the words cause above one pocket and chaos on the other side. One sleeve has the previous cup win dates while the other sleeve has the boy’s number and the original canes logo underneath it. Lastly, the bottom hem of the jacket is decorated with the storm warning flags similar to the boys jerseys and classic name and number on the back in the same color and font as the Carolina. 

Ever since finalizing the design, you instantly headed to the store and grabbed a blank black varsity jacket and started your work. You had fallen so deep into the job, focusing on each tiny detail for your prototype that you didn’t even hear Seth coming home. You had just finished on the front when you heard the door of your office creak open and you turn to see Seth with a tired smile on his lips. 

“Hey there pretty girl,” he says, sauntering his way into the room and your heart skips at the sight of him. You’re distracted for a moment just at the sight of him, but when you notice his eyes flicker over to your current project you flinch and get up. 

“No!” you screech, taking quick steps towards your boyfriend and covering his eyes with your hand. Seth freezes against you, concerned in his movements but when he hears a breathy laugh escape from your lips he knows everything is okay. 

“Uh why can’t I look?” 

“It’s bad luck!” you squeal, nudging your boyfriend out of your office and Seth rolls his eyes, his lashes fluttering lightly against your hand. 

“I’m sorry did I propose and forget or something?” he asks when you finally drop your hand from his eyes and shut your office door behind you. 

“No but if you are going to propose I’d wait till off season,” you respond cheekily and Seth grins. 

“I was making the wag jackets,” you tell him, slinging your arms around his neck and bringing him closer to you. 

“Mmm were you?” 

Seth leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, trailing one up to your cheek and then finally on your lips, his hips pushing you back against the door so you’re caged in his embrace. 

“Mhm,” you murmur against his lips and you feel his grin, the scruff of his beard scratching against your skin. “And you need to go so I can finish them.” 

“Or we could do this,” he says and before you know it, Seth has grabbed you around the waist, throwing you over his shoulder and marching his way towards your shared bedroom, your protests of work and prototypes deaf to his ears. 

The week leading up to the first playoff game was complete chaos. You hadn’t seen Seth at all, occasionally when he was slipping out of bed and you were just slipping in, bumping into each other when he was out the door and you were coming in and so on. 

You were finalizing all of the wag jackets, making sure the matching shoes had arrived and were in good condition as well. You had decided to add a pair of nikes with the players last name on the side to match the jackets and you couldn’t wait to see how each girl would style their outfit. One by one as each girl received their jacket you would be on the other end of a million texts and several facetime calls of the girls freaking out about the job you did. You couldn’t help it, you started to feel good about your work too after being praised so much. 

Unfortunately due to both your schedules, you couldn’t see Seth before the playoff game but promised to make it in time for warmups. You and a few of the girls head out together, taking pictures both at your place and when you get to the arena. You head straight for the front, your nerves getting the best of you and you’re bouncing up and down on your heels waiting for Seth to come out on the ice. 

Somehow even with the nerves you miss his initial entrance onto the ice. Normally Seth is all serious mode when he starts warmups, only deciding to relax and goof off towards the end of them but when he sees you first, he’s a complete goner. 

You’re facing away from the glass but Seth could spot you from miles away in a crowded area, it truly didn’t matter. Your hair was pulled up and out of the way so everyone could see his last name and jersey number plastered on the back of the black varsity jacket. Your smile is wide and he knows you’ve been nervously fidgeting by the way you twist and bounce as you stand. 

His heart is pounding twice as hard now, not even registering the world around him as he sees you in your heavenly state with his name on your back. His. His jacket. The one that claims you’re his. God, how did he get so lucky? 

He doesn’t know when he stopped paying attention to the movements he was making on his skates until he’s smacking embarrassingly into the glass just before you, startling both you and everyone around. You look up, Seth with an unreadable expression on the other side of the glass and you can’t help the shy smile that creeps onto your lips. 

Seth tries to regain some kind of confidence again, shooting a wink in your direction and mischievous grin before taking off on the ice again. 

You swear your face hurts from smiling and your throat is no doubt sore from the screaming you had done all of game 1. You and the girls make your way down to the tunnel and talk about the events of the game while you wait for the boys. One by one each girl disappears in the arms of her man, you smiling and bidding goodbyes while you impatiently wait for Seth. 

“Is that the future Mrs. Jarvis?” you hear from behind you and you turn to see Jarvy smiling like he just won the damn lottery. 

You rush forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing kisses anywhere you can reach. You exclaim your praise between each kiss and Seth grins shyly against you. 

“You did amazing,” you say leaning back to finally look into your boyfriend's big brown eyes and they shine with pride at your words. 

“Thank you baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling back and staring at you, his eyes roaming your figure, his fingers tracing the outline of his number on your shoulder and his name on your back. 

“What’s up lover boy?” you ask, nervous under his gaze. 

“You look damn good with my last name,” he murmurs and your face flushes further. 

What Seth doesn’t tell you is that from the first day, he’s known you were the one from him. He doesn’t say that since you had your first date he knew you’d be married one day. He doesn’t say how he wants to spoil his proposal right now and just ask you to marry him because he can’t go another second without having you share his name. 

He doesn’t tell you that one piece of clothing has made him imagine the next 50 years of his life in the matter of seconds. 

But you don’t need to know that. Not yet at least. So Seth settles for another searing kiss to your lips before slinging an arm around your shoulder and leading you home so he can take that jacket off of you and love you properly.

[lemonlimestar]

i absolutely adore your designs! id love to hear about your process for making characters who look similar in canon have unique and identifiable features!!

tysm :,) i’ve always been really into character design so it’s fun to translate that into characters i love.

as for making similar looking characters look different i drew up a little lineup.

this is gonna be a long one sjhdjsjs

cassie, steph, and mia are all beloved white, blonde, *skinny, teenage girls with roughly the same appearance so i decided to focus in on them.

(*they’re usually portrayed as being muscular/fit but nowhere near in same fashion as their male counterparts)

i wish there was a fancier way to put it, but honestly i just play around with shape language until i get a design i like. i try to lean into motifs/commonalities. (ex: the robins have larger noses to be sort of bird-like, cissie has a heart face to tie into the connection between archery & cupid, the house of el s-curl, cassie’s pigtails are shaped like stars) overall, doing lineups like these are really helpful when trying to make characters look different because it shows you a side-by-side of all the similarities & differences in how i draw the characters.

especially when they interact a lot (ex: wally & roy, kon & tim, cissie & greta) i don’t want them looking like siblings or to repeat the same features between characters who already look similar. unless i’m playing into that (dick & donna <3)

when changing race or body types, i try to factor in the actual character & their backstory. i tend to draw cassie stockier because of her more brawler-like fighting style + her being one of shorter yj kids. but also, i made greta chubby both because i thought it worked well with her shape language and i simply wanted to. the world is my oyster.

as for race, i’m a lot more careful about thinking about how being non-white would affect a character. i have to know a decent amount about a character before hitting them with The Self-Indulgence Beam. making a character black, brown, or asian shouldn’t be slapped on like a sticker without any care put into it. i feel like it’s a well-known point, but it’s worth mentioning especially because i’m black & i make so many characters non-white when i draw them.

back to canon portrayals, they’re some unique features given to them (ex: steph’s freckles aren’t always drawn but they do get featured a few times) so i try to make things like that a permanent physical feature. the curls were simply inspired by some other stephs i’ve seen :) i typically hc that she straightens & crimps them when she’s a teenager but i drew her with them for this example. i got very self-indulgent with my steph design because she’s my girl, but i also tried to keep in mind how she complements the people she interacts with the most (cass, tim, babs).

although i’ve enjoyed what i’ve read with her, i know the least about mia. so, i just gave her features i’d like to see more on teenage characters like acne. i pulled from some panels for the shape of her nose and adjusted the shade of her hair about a million times. i debated on giving her piercings, but ended up going against it because she doesn’t have invulnerability nor a full face mask & she doesn’t have piercings in any of the panels i saw of her.

although i’m not the hugest fan of the reveal of cassie secretly being a demigod rather than just having been given her powers, her being not entirely human gives me a little bit more leeway with her design in my head. hence the stark blonde in her lashes being inspired by fantasy design i enjoy.

one more thing i almost forgot was scars. obviously heroes with no powers would have more visible scars. just with the bats: they all have body scarring but i draw cass with more facial scars because of her history + she’s herself so she wouldn’t bother covering them v.s. tim, who doesn’t have visible facial scars bc he’s Very Particular about appearances, but he has a crooked nose.

scars can be fun to play with as far as trying to remember what happens to certain characters that would leave them scarred (cissie’s scar where the arrow went through her, any scars kon got from literally dying, wally’s or barry’s scarring from their “accidents”) they’re an interesting trait to add & reflects the whole vigilantism thing.

okay i think that’s all the thoughts i have. ik this got kinda rambley but i hope it was helpful 😭

here are some closeups, as a treat <3

[johannestevans]

Finding Your Style, Part I: Shape & Silhouette

A deep dive into deciding on your own personal fashion and tailoring your clothes to fit.

Also on Patreon / / Also on Medium / / Leave a tip.

Introduction

Before I start with the actual meat of this piece, I want to establish what this series of guides is not going to be. These guides are going to be about building and cultivating your wardrobe and accessories for you and your preferences.

I have no interest in and will not be going into how to look good (or revoltingly, how to look “slimmer” or similar), how to be fashionable or trendy, or alternatively, how to look unique or dress differently to everybody you know.

I often get frustrated when pieces about cultivating one’s personal style stumble across my dashboards and they advise the reader to pay attention to the latest trends, to make a moodboard, cultivate a capsule wardrobe, and leave it at that — a moodboard can be helpful if you’re a visual thinker, and there’s nothing wrong with a capsule wardrobe as a tool, however.

I have a particular style of dress, I like to play around with a lot of colours and fabrics, a lot of patterns, and a lot of the people around me tell me I dress well and that they enjoy my style: I have never read a style guide that is envisioning a man who dresses like me, or even a man who dresses even close to the way I dress.

When I think of someone’s personal style, I’m talking about aspects of their appearance and the mode in which they clothe and carry themselves that are distinctive to them.

Firstly, this doesn’t mean that they dress uniquely, and like no other person around them.

I know guys who basically dress themselves to match mannequins in particular stores, and they look good for it — when I see them around, even if I haven’t seen those mannequins and don’t shop in the stores they shop from, what makes them distinctive is particular colour palettes, brands, and also a clean-cut, neat style that works really well on a shop mannequin. What they’re wearing obviously isn’t unique, but it is distinctive, and it is a particular visual I associate with them when I see them.

Secondly, when we think of distinctive qualities, I might associate them with a specific style that isn’t inspired by a high street store or particular fashionable brand — people who dress in vintage clothes and are always kind of ’90s or ’70s, or people who dress in lolita or goth or emo or cottagecore or identify with another subculture that has a particular visual signature.

Apart from fashion subcultures, there might be other aspects — yes, specific high street brands, but there are all kinds of other visual signatures like particular patterns (someone who always wears stripes, for example), other brands or media (e.g. someone who wears a lot of stuff printed with anime characters), particular places or hobbies, et cetera. I’m currently fleshing out my wardrobe and trying to find a lot more pieces that are nautical or sailing themed, so there are a lot of anchors, compasses, helm’s wheels, and ships incorporated into my wardrobe.

And thirdly — this is one thing I want to impress very firmly, because far too many pieces that focus on fashion don’t take this into account at all — one of the most distinctive qualities is how much I might recognise a friend’s specific needs for comfort in their style of dress.

I, for example, have a lot of cardigans, jumpers, woollen vests and waistcoats, etc, and in winter will often appear in multiple layers of wool underneath another layer of leather because I get cold so easily; even in summer, I’m often wearing a t-shirt under a collared shirt, sporting a cardigan, or even wearing three-piece suits. I know other people who basically from spring through to late autumn will only ever be wearing one layer, particularly just a t-shirt or long-sleeved shirt, because they overheat so easily.

This is going to be a series of pieces, and I want to focus on a handful of specific points to focus on in cultivating your wardrobe and accessories:

Part I: Shape and Silhouette

Part II: Fabrics and Materials

Part III: Colours and Patterns

Part IV: Garments and their Construction

Part V: Accessories and Details

Part VI: Eras & Epochs, Subcultures & Alternative Looks

Part VII: Thematic Cohesion

Part VIII: Editing and Adding to your Wardrobe

A lot of style guides are written with people in mind who are trying to look good at work, especially at office jobs, and subsequently they assume a certain level of conformity with business casual or other “acceptable” styles in mind, where standing out to any degree is considered in poor taste, but more importantly, where things like personal comfort aren’t taken into account.

Your personal comfort in the clothes you wear, whether that’s to do with your resting temperature, if you feel most comfortable in any specific fabrics or textures, if you feel comfortable under multiple layers or only one, how many pockets you have and how accessible those pockets are, how exposed or free certain parts of your body are, etc, is far more important than virtually any other aspect in selecting your wardrobe.

There are absolutely garments or styles where you might either enjoy the discomfort or think it’s worth withstanding for the visual effect, but that’s really up to you to decide, and anyone who says that you should be uncomfortable on your day-to-day, or that it’s normal and therefore desirable to feel uncomfortable in your own clothes, is a prick.

As a species, we wear clothes to keep our bodies warm and safe from harm, and while we might enjoy looking good or projecting a particular image, our comfort, safety, and our feeling of security in the clothes we’re wearing is no less vital.

Especially if you’re used to dressing in uncomfortable clothes, it can be hard to figure out what you actually do feel comfortable in, and that’s okay, that’s a process.

A lot of us have basically had it embedded into us, after years of conditioning, that there is only one way to dress, one way to exist, and that this is in-keeping with what’s Appropriate or what’s Pretty or in line with any other expectation, and unlearning that is hard, but it’s a process, and it’s possible to work through it.

Shapes & Silhouette

The first thing we often talk about when it comes to fashion, and the first thing a lot of clothes designers sketch out and visualise, is silhouette — if you find that hard to envisage, imagine yourself in whatever outfit is a favourite of yours, that you’re behind a canvas, and you’re being backlit from behind.

Your silhouette is the shadow cast by the shape of your body and your clothes — when someone first enters into a room, when we take in their outfit, we take in the broad strokes of it and the silhouette it casts, the shape of their body.

You might want to cast an initial impression that emphasises particular bodily qualities you’re proudest of, makes you seem taller or shorter than you are, slimmer or fatter, curvier or squarer, softer or more angular.

The problem with a lot of silhouette discussion is that many clothing designers abhor and loathe clothing anyone who isn’t a white, thin cisgender woman: imagining silhouette becomes about imagining a base body that serves as a mannequin and clothes that are draped on her, rather than about imagining a range of body types and different silhouettes that might go with them, complementing or contrasting the base body on which they’re built.

Subsequently, when people talk about clothing for fat people, particularly for fat women, a great deal of emphasis is placed on a silhouette that attempts to disguise or hide the body’s natural shape, whether that means making them seem nebulously slimmer by increasing their perceived height or by some other method, or increasing or decreasing their curviness.

The problem with that, apart from the fact that it relies on a vociferous hatred of fat people, of fat people’s bodies, of body fat in general, an odious bigotry in itself, is that a lot of the time, it doesn’t fucking work.

It’s instead people writing pages upon pages of advice on how to make yourself appear smaller and lesser, capitalising on people’s taught and conditioned self-loathing, and a lot of it is just clickbait. I’m by no means saying it would be ethical or correct if a lot of this advice did work, but the fact is that it doesn’t.

Someone might take your outfit with lots of layers and rounded shapes to it and assume you’re fatter than you in fact are, because multiple layers make you look larger — it could also be that simply wearing those soft fabrics make people think that you’re rounder, which they associate with fatness. In contrast, someone might take an outfit with lots of angles to mean that you’re bigger than you are because when we drape our body with angular clothes, they often work by sticking out from our body and creating corners where they don’t exist — but, people might associate that angularity with a lack of body fat, either with bones or with muscle, and therefore think you are bigger, but less fat.

We live in a fatphobic society where people make a lot of judgements based on how fat they perceive you as being. Because of the aforementioned fatphobic society, we also live in a society where people might associate you with fatness (or some other physical trait they consider negative) because they dislike you.

If you speak loudly or “a lot”, people might perceive you as being fatter than you are — if you barely speak, they might perceive you as being thinner, because you take up less apparent space, no matter what you wear or what shape you present.

There is no way to win, is my point.

You cannot win against bigotry in a fundamentally bigoted society by trying to change subtle perceptions of angle or size or light or shadow, and the people who say that you can are lying. The point of those lies is firstly to sell newspapers and screentime, but the second of them is to make the reader think that a bigoted society’s attitude toward them is their fault, because they weren’t employing enough tricks to deter the bigotry.

When I talk about the varieties of silhouette you might want to attain or aim for in your clothing choices, or how well-fitting or loose a garment might be for you, it should be in line with your preferences and your desires, whether that’s about aesthetic, comfort, or something else.

Photo by cottonbro studio via Pexels, with guide lines added by me.

When envisioning your silhouette, the key points of your body might be:

your head

your shoulders

your waist and hips

your feet

This depends on your body shape and also on the sorts of outfits you’re wearing — it might change for you depending on the clothes you’re wearing on a given day, or you might cut a drastically different silhouette in boymode versus girlmode, or in summer versus winter, etc. 

Think of these as anchor points on which your clothing or accessories are draped over or mounted from, almost like you might envision armour slots in a videogame. When you envision your silhouette, it’s how your body immediately appears when lit from behind — your legs and arms aren’t irrelevant here, and the shape of sleeves, trousers, and skirts will absolutely contribute to your silhouette, but depending on your body in motion or how you stand, these won’t always be immediately distinctive, whereas your head and torso will be.

As well as being the place where your clothes drape from, these might be the points where your most important accessories might be placed — headbands or hats, shoulder clasps or shawls or collar pins and such, belt buckles or suspender clips, and your shoes or boots. These points become the focus to which the eye is drawn because they’ll be the most static parts of the body, whereas other parts in between might jiggle or flow. 

These points aren’t part of some sort of rule you have to follow — it’s more of a handy shorthand to help train your eye into seeing the particular shapes each part of someone’s body cuts, and what the overall effect is, and how much you like or dislike the effect. 

You might feel that some of these anchor points, when emphasised or de-emphasised, add or take away from your dysphoria or your general self-esteem, make you feel more feminine or masculine, just look really fucking cool or really hot, etc. Think about those when you start sketching out your shapes in your head and what you like best. 

When you really want to imagine a silhouette, do what I did with the first three images — there’s the outfit itself, I’ve drawn the anchors at the top of the head, the top of the shoulders, the waist, and then the feet. Contrast that silhouette with this image:

Photo by Becerra Govea Photo via Pexels, with guidelines added by me.

This person has a different hair style, but see how with the shape of the dress, the waistline is drawn in compared to their shoulders, and would be even if they weren’t posed with their elbows outward? See how their waist appears to be smaller in contrast with the wide sweep of the thickly layered, loose skirts?

A useful exercise when thinking about a silhouette you like is to draw these anchor points and then either draw in lines following the outside of the body’s / clothing’s shape, or you can separate into each section and think about the simplest shape that silhouette can be boiled down to: a circle, a square, a triangle, a straight line.

In the two images I’ve indicated, I’ve focused on the waist as an anchor point because it’s the base of the suit jacket and then where this dress is drawn in — on your body, you might find that somewhere else on your pelvis is better for you to draw the line.

Have a look at this TikTok and look at all these bodies in motion, the clothes they’re wearing, how much skin is or isn’t being revealed, how loose or fixed each piece of clothing is, how much contrast is or isn’t present in the different shapes on show. Think about each different silhouette and how different or similar they are to one another.

(A TikTok of an NYFW fashion show in September from Remi Jo on TikTok.)

Look for the motion in these garments and in these people’s bodies — the parts that jiggle, that flow, that have free motion — and contrast them with the bits of their garments or bodies that remain more static. Many of these garments bare skin or flesh, and many of them cover a lot up, depending on the garment’s design — look at shoulder pieces, busts, waists, skirts, hemlines, sleeves. If a garment stands out to you as pleasing, cut it up in your mind and look at each piece of it individually before you consider the whole again, see what stands out most to you.

Generally, for modern men’s tailoring, the focus is often on the lower-slung hips rather than on the higher waist. If you’ve got a squarer body, your waist and hips might be the same or almost the same width, to the point you have no big distinguishing angle between the two points — you might want to think of your anchor point as at the base of your hips, in line with your backside; you might want to think of it as at the absolute high point of your waist if you tend to very high-waisted trousers or skirts. 

If you’re fatter and have a significant overhang to your belly, depending on whether you like to wear your waistband underneath the overhang and have your belly rest on top / over it, or if you wear looser clothes or generally keep your belly within the waistband, for example under your dress or your skirt, this might change how you think about your silhouette too. 

You might still be looking from the tops of your shoulders, but then the end of that “shape” might be in line with your backside or your upper thigh instead because that’s where you can see the lowest part of your belly in your trousers or leggings, or in a maxi dress, it might be a straight (or mostly straight) line from your shoulder down to your feet. Alternatively, rather than focusing on your hips or specifically where your waist is, you might like to make sure your middle point is at the widest point of your belly — if you’re wearing a belt, you might like the belt buckle to rest in the middle point there, or have the waistband of your skirt there so that you have the maximum flow to the skirt. 

And remember, as I said about how the most key points might be different depending on what sort of outfit you’re wearing or what the occasion is, consider how much you’re going to be sitting down or from what angle you’re going to be viewed by others. 

If you’re generally going to be sitting down while wearing a particular outfit, your midpoints at the waist might be less important to you than your shoulders and your feet — and if you’re going to be viewed significantly from above or below (for example, if you’re on stage or performing in a theatre), or from a further distance, this might make a difference to what key points you want to focus on. 

If you use a wheelchair, depending on how big your wheelchair is compared to you in terms of its back and shape, you might like to take its angles and colours in complement to your outfit — if you use a cane or crutches, or if you wear a prosthetic limb for some events but not others, you might want to consider the asymmetry or the squarer shapes cut by your mobility aids. 

Similarly, if you’re in costume and you’re wearing or using a really important prop like a stave or wand, some sort of weapon in the hand or slung on the belt or worn in some sort of other holster, you might want to employ similar complementary or perpendicular angles. 

For example, if you’re wearing something that’s really angular and is going to make one shoulder, side of your head, or side of your waist/belly seem much higher than the other side, you might want to match that angular shift to the side you don’t have a limb or use a cane or have a prop to continue that exaggerated angle — you might want to make it go to the opposite way to offset the imbalance. 

--

I’ve talked a lot above about how to observe and identify shapes and silhouettes in outfits you’re observing, but only a little bit about how to actually construct and cast them. 

For a lot of people, the shadow cast by your head is going to be the same every day depending on your haircut or hairstyle: if you have shorter hair, you’re unlikely to change it much on the day to day in a way that will be noticeable at a glance.

If you do have longer hair or you change your style regularly, you can think about the shape that your head is casting in contrast to your outfit — if you alternate, for example, between having a big ‘fro and braids or twists that are much tighter to the head or are gathered at the back of your neck, those will be pretty dramatic differences to your silhouette; ditto if you go between different ponytails or braids and different up-dos, whether that’s a bun or gathered braid or similar. 

If you wear hats and/or wear headscarves, those will make a big difference too — a beanie casts a very different shadow to a Panama hat, different again to a boater, a baseball cap, or a bandana. 

A more structured hat or other garment for the head — a tiara or crown, for example, or more structured hair styles that come out from the head such as bantu knots or structured wigs and up-dos, will be more static; looser hats, scarves, and loose-worn hair will have more flow and wave when you move, and will stay in motion as you walk or even as you turn your head. 

How visible do you want your neck to be? The lines of your jaw, your chin, your ears (and earrings), your brow, the nape of your neck? Do you enjoy the sensation of fabric or your own longer hair touching the tops of your shoulders, or being a weight on your back? Do you need the shade from your bangs or longer fringe, or that a structured hat will give you?

From your head we can jump to the broader part of your actual outfit or the garment that covers most of your body. 

Your shoulders and your hips / waist / the widest point of your belly are where the garments you wear are going to rest — shirts, jackets, vests, coats, all of these are going to sit on your shoulders and either cling closely to your body or hang over it; loose fitting trousers and any sort of kilt or skirt are going to hang off your hips or the widest point of your middle. 

Depending on your outfit and how your legs are clad, your feet might not actually be particularly noticeable — if you’re wearing shorts or anything with a shorter skirt, more attention is going to be drawn to the feet in contrast to your legs, ditto any sort of skinny trouser, legging, or tights. This goes especially for bigger boots, trainers/sneakers, and various heels.

MSCHF’s newest crowd pleaser, the Big Red Boot, is distinctive because the Big Red Boots are extremely shaped like boots, but not particularly like feet.

And after this point, you might have different points entirely that you construct away from your body — big earrings can be a point of interest; the hem of a shorter skirt, for example, might stop at your mid-thigh or knee, and that might be at an angle with your shoes; if you wear flared trousers like I tend to, you might create another point of contrast at your knee or at the mid calf.

Some points to consider are: 

Which parts of your body or your shape do you enjoy most, want to most emphasise, or want to draw most attention to? Are there any parts of your body or your shape you feel less comfortable showing or emphasising, and would like to draw attention from?

Are there any silhouettes, for any gender, that you feel most drawn to and interested in? For example, do you particularly like the shape cut by certain styles of suits, robes, dresses, or other garments? What points do you like most, are most drawn to? What points are the same from outfit to outfit? 

Think of cartoons and other animated series you like or have enjoyed, which normally have distinct styles and place emphasis on certain body parts or shapes for each characters. Do any particularly appeal to you? Do any characters look especially fun or cool compared to others, because of the style they’re drawn in or what garments or armour they’re drawn in? Cartoons will show an extreme, but they might help you visualise something you’re particularly drawn to because the extremity makes it so visible.

Apart from the shoulders, middle, head, and feet, do you want to create any further points of interest? Draw attention to your elbow or knees, dangling earrings, shift the silhouette of your feet by elevating your heel or sole?

Do you want your garments to hang from your body and be loose, or do you want them to be more tightly tailored? A garment that “hangs” will generally rest on your shoulders or around your middle and then be looser or boxier — a more fitted garment will hug tighter to the lines and curves of your body, and the extent to which will depend on the fabric weight and the construction of the garment. 

How much is your silhouette different in motion, standing, seated, or otherwise? How much does it change with different mobility aids, or in different seats, while doing different activities? 

And that’s it for that piece!

I am going to go through the other parts of this bit by bit — originally I was going to do this as one huge deep dive, but it just became untenable in terms of length. Let me know what you think, which bits are most helpful, and please feel free to mention anything you’d particularly want me to cover in the other pieces as I go through them. 

[randomfoggytiger]

React: A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try (Founder's Mutation), Part II

This is gonna be quick and dirty because my keyboard’s acting up--

IT’S A CONTINUATION FROM MY STRUGGLE I?????????? NO WHY NO, PLEASE NO. 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO--

WHY do those glasses not fit anymore?? If Mulder lifts his eyebrows, they don’t even touch his cheekbones. But they were fine last episode, what happened. 

Mulder reminding us about William in yet another opening monologue. I may have the memory of a goldfish, Mulder, but I don’t have brain damage. 

I’m already so tired. 

Narration, narration, sudden voice change and drop, “Bringing Scully and I back together”-- okay, that’s straight-up David's voice. 

Oh, good. A bloody eyeball. How marvelous. 

If this is the brain Morse Code episode, I will throw hands. 

I’m Dr. Sanjay. We’re both too tired. 

WHAT’S WITH THE SHAKY CAM AS DR. SANJAY DETERIORATES. 

I’m not gonna be nit-picky… okay, I am. 

The X-Files has a certain style, aesthetically. Because of that, one has to operate inside the rules in order to cleverly bend them. Shaky cam AND close-up break two rules back-to-back.

This "modernization" isn’t a limbered stretch so much as a spinal dislocation. 

Ghost in the Machine and Blood 2.0, I see. But worse. 

The “Sanjay losing control” scene is… not too different from similar 90s ones.

But that’s the problem-- the visuals have updated, but not the method. And that leaves us with the impression that the director or screenwriter or both are either amateur or outdated. 

It’s also incredibly cluttered and confusing. Not confusing in a way that would expertly translate the meltdown in Sanjay’s brain, but confusing in a way that bombards us, the audience, with compounding “lost in translation” errors. 

Okay, welp, he’s dead. 

WHY do Mulder and Scully sound so old? Was it absolutely necessary to suck the life force out of the actors every time they walked on set? For Pete’s sake, I’ve heard more life in David’s voice while reading a Lexus ad. 

Okay, DD’s picking up a bit, and GA’s compensating with her expressions but none of this is engaging. 

Minor nitpick-- and I know both actors complained about wardrobe later-- but the second Mulder gets pants that fit him and Scully remembers to finish buttoning up her top, the sooner I’ll get a glimpse of the old show. Just sayin’. 

His pants will eventually swing to the opposite tragedy, copping a feel while forcing him to do a little Marilyn Monroe shimmy.

I shall call them Patriarchy Pants.

Scully knows Indian?

She really is the series’ language OC, isn’t she. 

Mulder got this informant to trust him by flashing his puppy eyes. I mean… it’s always worked on Scully. 

Speaking of which… where’s Scully? 

I’m wracking my brain, but I thiiiiiiiiiiink it’s consistent, even pre-S9 canon, for Mulder to sneak off and fill Scully in later. So, no complaints. I think. 

What is it about the comedy scene that didn’t work…? 

Hm. 

‘Kay, so, if this guy (Gupta, looked it up) is no longer a repressed homosexual-- like he chastises Mulder for being-- then why was he so skittish in the bar? 

He didn’t know Sanjay was dead, so therefore he didn’t know he was in danger (note from the future: he isn't in danger... which explains his skittishness even less.)

So, is his jumpiness because of repressed or hidden homosexuality? But he says he's out and urges Mulder to come out, as well.

Perhaps he's saying one thing and living another, i.e. pretending to be out and proud to save face in front of Mulder.

But then... that would be the comedy in this scene-- that he would have to eat his words (ex. another guy opens the door on them and Gupta makes a big fuss trying to cover up the homosexuality of it all-- “no homo” dialed up to 11, etc.) 

So, he was either scared to be on a hit list-- yet wasn’t aware he might be on one-- or scared of being outed-- yet didn't signal this in his actions or dialogue.

If this is Gupta’s only scene, it was a waste.

It was a waste of an introduction, regardless. But.  

Oh, Scully’s doing an autopsy, got it. 

Characters are playing by their strengths, got it. 

Also, forgot to note, Mulder sensing the guys in the bar were bad news points to his years spent on the job. A great touch.

…Unless, now that I think of it, Gupta invited him to a gay or hookup bar, consequently making Mulder look like an out-of-touch old buffoon. Which… fits his characterization in My Struggle I, but I hope for better things. 

I didn’t see any tension in Scully’s arms while pulling the instrument out of Sanjay’s ear, but, ya know, there weren’t perfect moments in OG canon, either. 

Gupta’s still here, okay. (DD getting away with a bit of humor by having Mulder act slightly out-of-place chuggin down in a bar-- I see you.) 

IT IS A GAY BAR. 

MULDER’S AN IDIOT, CONFIRMED. 

“He lived two lives.” Okay, that’s f-- “In two separate places.” NO, no, nonono-- get back over the unsubtle line before I whip out the broom, shooshooshooshooshoo.

Wait, why is Mulder explaining the autopsy results instead of Scully?

Even when he had a… siiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh. 

Even when Mulder had a brewing theory in mind, he always let Scully explain all her results before asking pointed questions, hearing her findings, then craft a theory and run it by her.

Here, Scully says, “Broke fingers to find words on palm/instrument went into these parts of the brain” and Mulder says “It went in at that angle then turned at this angle/insert theory.���

When it SHOULD be: Scully explains fingers and cause of death, Mulder points at the pics and asks why the instrument’s angle changed, Scully says “it went in 90 degree angle then turned 60 degrees”, and Mulder concludes “Like he was hunting for something.” 

The shots widen out or cut back for shock value, it seems. Sanjay’s body is shown obliquely until Scully says she “looked everywhere” for clues, which prompts the camera to cut to a wide shot and hang on his sawed-open skull. The timing’s oddly comedic, the music is light, and nothing about the scene meshes. It quickly pancakes, leaving us and the characters with dead (heh) air.

The dialogue leans “we’re gonna do this next” telling rather than natural conversation showing. 

And-- I’ve gotta be frank-- I’ve not caught an ounce of chemistry from DD and GA aside from the scene where they were talk about phone stealing and Indian languages. 

The car scene contributed nothing... except a kid accidentally fell over the hood. Reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal covert set-up, I tell ya. 

Sanjay’s other apartment scene was… weird. They walk around, find pictures of experiments on kids, barely react, trip the silent alarm so the police show up--

Sorry, no, wait. The police show up ASAP, in THIS part of town? NAH. Not happening. 

Okay, the scene where Mulder has a… brain… thingy WORKS because it uses just the right amount of “new trick”: closeups without disorienting lens action slapped on top. THAT’s how you integrate a modernized technique into an older show; and it fits seamlessly into The X-Files. 

SO WHY DIDN’T THEY DO THIS FROM THE GET-GO?

Also, Scully may have had cancer, but she never had migraines. Those seem to be reserved for Mulder. 

Oh, we’re in Skinner’s office now. I guess. 

The clips are so poorly paced, switching or holding or integrating at the weirdest times. It even undercuts Mulder’s quips or Scully’s reactions. 

On a side note, DD and GA probably had a hard time finding their characters-- as they mentioned for both IWTB and the Revival-- because all they had to work off of was plot regurgitation. ....What do you do with that? 

I love the touch of Skinner playing hardball until Corporate Interest Guy leaves, then immediately switching to, “I assume you’re going to need [classified] copies, right?” 

…

…..

…….

Scully really doesn’t have much to add, does she? 

OH, we’re in the basement now. We're just... here. The first scene of these two back down here and they're just. Here. ...'Kay.

Mulder and Scully talking over his experience is the closest I’ve gotten to mature MSR… and it’s ruined by Scully stating the obvious, “There were no sounds. I didn’t hear anything.”

LOOK, OKAY? Mulder became CATATONIC before with these exact same symptoms and was only saved by a secret science mumbo jumbo brain surgery, WHY ISN’T SHE WORRIED. It’s equivalent to her getting a nosebleed and just wiping it away, no big deal. 

“Mulder, what are you hiding?”

He’s not hiding anything, Scully, he’s telling you. 

But if he were, that’d be outta character even for Beanpole Sneakybritches. By this point, he’d have a functioning theory to share with the class-- which he did, lest we forget-- or developed a taste for Hercule Poirot drama while holed up in depressed isolation, I guess. (Which you left him to, Scully, so this is your fault, tangentially.)

Which would be stupid. 

 (Note from the future: He was hiding something, but it didn't make sense how he leaped to that conclusion, anyway; so, logically, he has nothing to hide from her in this scene.)

But when's that stopped the show before?

“What are you hiding?” 

“Sanjay heard sounds right before he died. It could be you, Mulder.”

WHAT. 

Scully and Mulder established in the lab that Sanjay heard noises right before he died. 

Mulder heard noises. 

Tells Scully in the basement. 

Scully: “I didn’t hear noises.” No reaction. 

Scully: “What are you hiding?”

Mulder explains his frequency theory.

Scully doesn’t see how it fits. 

Mulder: “What are you hiding?” 

Scully: “Sanjay heard sounds right before he died. It could be you, Mulder.” No reaction. 

PLEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASE END MY SUFFERING.

16 min. in. 

Been typing nearly an hour (a dying keyboard’ll do it to ya.) 

“This is dangerous,” Scully says, flatly. 

“When has that ever stopped us?” Mulder asks, brightly. 

He is quite literally trying to pump life back into her-- WHO directed GA this way? You can tell which scenes she is given freer reign in (more natural, less muted) and which ones she is more tightly “guided” (less alive, more dead.) 

How is she spry enough to be a field agent? How is Mulder? Skinner hasn’t aged a day but these two have been MOWED. DOWN. DD and GA aren’t like this in real life, so what gives? 

Our Lady of Sorrows, go away. 

It’s Karen Kosseff except it isn’t. 

Mulder and Scully sneakily scare the daylights outta a Conservative-adjacent medical personnel with the dreaded threat of an “Obamacare” witchhunt... and at this point, the social commentary seems performative rather than intelligent. 

I’m not gonna break it down by politics; but suffice to say, while Mulder and Scully were never above a little “campaign of misinformation”, but they've never stooped low enough to fearmonger-- in fact, they looked down on those who did. 

CC-- he wrote this episode, too, right?-- turned them from FBI agents with ethics into Secret Agents with a dose of Krycekian immorality. 

Just when I think I’ve “found” MSR, the writing snatches them back from me.

…And ANOTHER THING. 

Ever since IWTB, Our Lady of Sorrows has been an awful, horrible, no-good, close-minded facility stuffed to the brim with egos and bottom-of-the-barrel intelligence. At least they’ve been upgraded from “let the kid die” psychopaths to “OBAMACARE?? INVESTIGATING OUR SAINTED, CONSERVATIVE COLLEAGUE????” Which makes them stupidly impressionable and stupendously ignorant of the law. Which they would know… because it affects their hospital. 

There’s no hint (thus far) that Scully has some dirt on them and maneuvers them into compliance by hinting at certain shortcuts they wouldn’t want investigated. No. Instead, she weaponizes their faith-- calling the guy they want to interview a “godsend”-- despite sharing it, and despite taking all matters of belief very seriously; then lets Mulder slip in the Obamacare line because… Conservative medical professionals would cow in the face of that implication instead of, I don’t know, stonewalling to protect their ranks? 

It’s such a silly, nonsensical line. 

I just want old Mulder and Scully back, is that too much to ask for?

And the lady almost stonewalled, anyway. It was pure luck that Scully pulled the right emotional strings. 

UGH. 

“I’ll agree to relay a message,” Not-Karen says… then walks off before asking what that message would be. …Sure, fine, that makes sense. 

Pregnant teen or young woman and….

And….

WHAT, IS THIS A CONTINUED PLOT POINT???????????

ANOTHER PREGNANCY PLOTLINE?????????? DO THE POWERS-THAT-BE NO LONGER HAVE ACCESS TO TUBES OR JARS OR WHATHAVEYOU TO GROW THEIR EXPERIMENTS, OR DID THEY ALL COPYPASTE THE EVES' AND DR. PARENTI’S VERY SPECIFIC NICHE?????

Hate the camera angles, too, uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh. 

Used and abused women, dismissed young mothers, callous Catholic hospitals…. It’s so… vitriolic. And all so poorly handled. 

“Desire is the devil’s pitchfork,” oh, great, the Catholic nun? lady is eeeeeeeeeeevil, who would have knooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooown--     

WHY. DOES. MULDER. SOUND. SO. OLD. 

No wonder DD and GA think the series isn’t really about happy endings, they were shuffling around like geriatric Eeyores half the time. 

Scully pushing back against Mulder protecting her from the incubation theory right after he tells her the incubation theory: in a word, disjointed. She needed to confront him BEFORE he spells it out to her-- 

…My brain melted and I lost the thought…. Wait…. Nope, it’s gone. 

“Is this what you believe happened to me, fifteen years ago? When I got pregnant, when I had my baby?” WWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAT. 

“Mybaby”??????????? After all this time, MY BABY. 

WHY ISN’T GA ACTING APPROPRIATELY, SHE’S GIVING US NOTHING DESPITE BEING THE SOLE EMOTIVE PERSON ON THIS TEAM. 

IF THAT LINE IS MEANT TO IMPLY SHE’S CREATING DISTANCE WITH “MY BABY” BECAUSE SHE THINKS MULDER IS DISOWNING WILLIAM, YOU’VE NOT ESTABLISHED, AT ALL, THAT RETICENCE IS PART OF HER SELF-PRESERVATION-- NOT ONE TIME, SINCE THE REVIVAL STARTED. 

AND IF THAT WERE THE CASE, SCULLY WOULD HAVE ACCUSED HIM DIFFERENTLY: NOT FLAT AND TIRED, BUT FLAT AND ANGRY. WHERE’S SCULLY’S ANGER THAT SHE’S HAD FROM DAY ONE, THAT SHE LOST RIGHT AFTER EXISTENCE SAID HAPPILY-EVER-AFTER????????

GIVE ME GUMPTION, GIVE ME SPIT, GIVE ME FIRE, GIVE ME RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION!!!!

SO THEY ABANDONED THE INCUBATOR TALK TO TALK ABOUT HER REGRETS, I GUESS. 

THERE WAS NO POINT A TO POINT B, WE’RE JUST HERE NOW.

I don’t mind the rehash-- Mulder and Scully both had a habit of doing that, back in the day… but I’m not getting any of MULDER or SCULLY from these two… Revival robots. 

Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, this is the “what could have been” episode. Thanks, I’m gonna hate it. 

“Do you think he could have been an experiment?”

“I don’t know,” GET OUTTA HERE, ACTUALLY GET OUTTA HERE. 

MULDER’S WHOLE ARC IN ESSENCE-EXISTENCE WAS THAT HE KNEW THE MATH ADDED UP TO BEING WILLIAM’S FATHER (though the writers did their best to obfuscate that issue) BUT WAS AFRAID SCULLY’S BABY WOULD BE BORN WITH SURPRISES. INSTEAD, HE WAS A NORMAL, HEALTHY BABY; AND MULDER CALLED HIS SON A MIRACLE BECAUSE OF IT.

BEFORE SEASON 9 RETCONNED IT, ANYWAY. BUT EVEN THEN, WILLIAM WAS UNDENIABLY HIS MINI MULDER.

Even in IWTB, how many years later, Mulder still considered William theirs. 

Also, waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaait. 

Pause. 

Rewind. 

Stop. 

Mulder misses William but had to put that “behind him.” 

That. has got to be. The most. antithetical statement to Mulder’s character that I have ever. Ever. heard. 

You can’t have it both ways, CC: Mulder can’t be pushed by the ghosts of his past into wrecking his and Scully’s relationship, twice (IWTB and the Revival), while also putting HIS CHILD behind him. 

nnooooooooooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOnonononononNONONONONONONO.

THAT DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. THAT MAKES NO SENSE. 

YOU’RE A LIAR, A LYING LIAR LIAR FACE. 

THAT’S NOT MULDER. 

MULDER WOULD NEVER SAY THAT. 

SCULLY MIGHT, BUT EVEN THEN SHE’D STILL BE LYING TO HERSELF. 

Scully was shattered into a million pieces in My Struggle I, and Mulder is obliterated in this one. 

How. 

Absolutely. 

Lovely. 

Also, again, Scully isn’t emoting fear or terror for her son. At all. 

NORMAL SCULLY VOICE??????????????????????????????????

NORMAL. SCULLY. VOICE????????????????????????????????????????

WHAT. 

I’M, I’M, WHAT. 

FOR THE FLASHBACKS, BUT NOT FOR THE SERIES????????????????????????

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. 

The cutback from the flashback-dreamsequence-whatever to Scully just… sitting there. Not napping. Not dreaming, just. Thinking, I guess. 

But the sequence was obviously a dream, so. 

Can you imagine if she snapped upright from her dream, possibly at her desk? The gifs sets that could have been made mirroring this moment to Mulder’s nightmare in Paper Hearts. 

THERE’S THE SAME “OPEN THE DESK DRAWER TO SEE A PHOTO” MOTIF, TOO. 

...WHY IS THAT ASSISTANT WALKING LIKE SHE'S ON A CATWALK?

That actress said, “This is my big shot, I’m gonna stick out” (literally), and dressed to kill. 

…Or she’s a piece of commentary on the Evil Scientist Doctor and the male gaze, or something. 

Guys, no facility would have kids kept behind glass cages for their entire lifespan. 

That’s dumb. 

Scully tells the scientist he’s testing (trying to isolate) for alien DNA. He shows them out. 

Agnes (the teen or young mother) got killed and her baby taken, of course. 

At least Scully’s no longer pretending medical people aren’t stealing babies or creating mutants, I guess. 

I GUESS. 

Mulder had to wiggle his way over to the printer because his Patriarchy Pants (first sighting!) are too tight. (Told you his fashion swings in the opposite direction.) 

Mulder said, “This is my skinny jean era”, and I think I’m traumatized. 

Syndicate wanted to colonize the world with alien-human hybrids, says Mulder. And though it was unsuccessful--

(HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT)

--he doubts they stopped trying. 

So, that sweeps away the Supersoldiers, I guess. 

Since, y’know, the Revival said the aliens were never involved to begin with. 

So it was just the government making a hoax of the government hiding aliens but pretending they weren’t but really were but weren’t. 

Got it. 

What did Scully’s study about all European men being traced back to three individuals in the Bronze age (that’s a reference to Shem, Ham, and Japheth, isn’t it CC?) have to do with Mulder’s point other than for her to talk about her study. 

An illustrative hypothetical:

Mulder: “Everyone loves juice.” 

Scully: “I read a paper last year that found the three most favored juice flavors tie back to the Whirligig tastebud genome.” 

…’Kay.

I HAVE FIFTEEN MINUTES LEFT, LET IT EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEND. 

Jackie (Evil Scientist Man's “insane” wife) doesn’t like cats and threw an apple at it. …Why’s there a loose cat in the “mental asylum”?

They put in the spooky track from the original show-- the tinkling symbol sound-- when she recounted her daughter breathing underwater, but I liked that bit. 

Good filming, good bit. 

Jackie was being used for experiments, crashed her car, was forced via the brain thingy to cut her child out, the end. 

…Oh, right, this plot was supposed to be about Sanjay. 

My bad. 

You forgot, too, didn’t you. 

…Why doesn’t Jackie like cats again? 

(Note from the future: Jackie feared her biological daughter because she had supernatural abilities; and ran away hoping to save her son from the same experimentation and fate. ...But her son? (or her daughter?) already had powers and forced her to cut him out??? by manipulating her brain????????? to find his way back to his sister??????????????? Even though he was a baby??????????????????? (She still doesn't know this and wishes she could see him again...????????????????????????????????????????)

This is such a BAD. SCRIPT. 

It has no direction, it swings wildly from topic to topic, nothing really connects together, it’s all… nonsensical garbage. 

Mulder gets closeted at a gay bar, the Catholic lady hates men and thinks unwed mothers are damaged, women are made to cut babies out of their stomachs, Mulder put William behind him, Scully has a waking dream instead of a sleeping one, aaaaaaaaaaaaand… Jackie hates cats. 

No, you will not get a logical explanation for any of this. 

Awwww, look, Jackie’s talking about her missing boy because she thinks about him “every day” but hasn’t seen him since and so does Scully, of course, and Mulder can sense that so he, looks, too, and this case will make him cling to William’s memory again and--

One word. Riverdale. 

“All my training-- everything that I know about psychology--” WHAT. Scully, you’re a medical doctor, not a psychologist. Definitely not a psychiatrist. 

So Mulder can read x-rays with medical accuracy, and Scully can read Indian and diagnose someone’s psychological state. 

Great.  

Just peachy. 

By the way, if you’re wondering why Mulder keeps getting bumped into or keeps peripherally noticing janitorial staff at each location, here’s your payoff (NO, IT WASN’T HAMFISTED, YOU JUST DIDN’T NOTICE THAT THIS WAS A PLOT POINT AT ALL, IT'S SO CLEVER):

The janitors work for a larger company that also services the hospitals. And Sanjay’s company. 

….Eh? Eh? Clever isn’t it??

NOITISN’T. 

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, so the kids are dying and inadvertently killing… off… their… parent? Or something? Or the reverse?

(Note from the future: Jackie feared her biological daughter because she had supernatural abilities; and ran away hoping to save her son from the same experimentation and fate. ...But her son?-- or her daughter?-- already had powers and forced her to cut him out??? by manipulating her brain????????? to find his way back to his sister??????????????? Even though he was a baby??????????????????? And she still doesn't know this, hoping to see him again someday...????????????????????????????????????????

THAT DOESN'T EXPLAIN WHY THE TEEN/YOUNG WOMAN WAS ALSO FORCED TO CUT HER BABY OUT AFTER BEING HIT BY A CAR, per the baby's instructions. Because that's what the episode says happens.

DO THESE ALIEN BABIES HAVE SOMETHING AGAINST VEHICULAR MANSLAUGHTER OR WHAT????)

Guys, this is dumb. 

Mulder’s stupid sunglasses. 

But he looks goofy overall, so I’ll CHOOSE to be endeared rather than angry or petulant.  

(IchoosethisIchoosethisIchoosethisIchoosethis--)

Wait, why does Mulder keep getting affected by the brain thing?

More importantly. 

The episode is setting up a few, blatant parallels:

These parents are having brain problems.

Their kids are experimentation kids.

William's probably an experimentation kid.

Which is stupid, but would then prove Mulder is the biological father.

They will sacrifice this parallel to the plot but also because Scully, not Mulder, ends up being the one to communicate constantly with William.

Which would prove William-Jackson is still Scully's biologically.

(Note from the future: This complete theory is debunked in about two seconds; but will be recycled later for Scully's Morse Code seizure. Wonderful.)

It’s all. 

So. 

Stupid.

Stupid sunglasses. 

I…

I died laughing. 

Guys. 

I’m gonna include a clip because it’s so goofy. 

Context: Mulder’s brain thingy is acting up, so Scully has to run around to find a kid-- Kyle-- so he’ll… help? her partner. Hence, we have Gillian trying to keep up her Revival smoker voice whilst running off and shouting, “KYyyYYyyyyYYLLllelleleee”:

This is The X-Files. 

Weep and gnash your teeth in torment. 

This is old. 

Sorry, Mulder’s ears should be busted by now. Gimme fic where he now has to use hearing aids.  

They grabbed Kyle and stuffed him in the car. 

Ahh, this is the scene where Mulder looks back at Kyle and someone mentioned it looks like Mulder looking back at William in another, better universe (post here.) 

Okay, so, this kid doesn’t mean to hurt people by communicating with his mind, buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut was or wasn’t responsible for Sanjay’s death (who was helping him.)

Scully decides “LET’S PRETEND TO HAND HIM OVER TO HIS EVIL SCIENTIST DAD IN ORDER TO FIND HIS SISTER” and that sound and reasonable. As reasonable as a starving pig at a pie fair. 

Wait.

The kid was a janitor.

Sanjay was helping him.

Sanjay was working for Evil Scientist dude.

Sanjay was trying to figure out where the kid's sister was, or he knew where she was but wasn't telling the kid?

The kid-- Kyle-- accidentally killed Sanjay because his... powers were outta control?

And... the kid can connect with different people's minds and that's how he hacked Mulder's brain (which retracts my biological theory... until, again, Scully's Morse Code seizure reinforces it.)

But the kid attacked Mulder when Mulder and Scully questioned his mom... didn't he already know who Mulder was?

And the kid kept pressuring Sanjay to find his sister, so much so that Sanjay hadn't been able to sleep well or function in weeks?

So, this kid's... questionable, at best.

Evil Scientist, M.D., pretended to introduce the kid to his sister, but Kyle wasn't BAMBOOZLED nor FOOLED. 

Oh, btw, this kid is Jackie’s son. Looks an awful lot like William-Jackson... but anyway. (Jackson's storyline is brazenly ripped off from CC's own material, wow-- right down to the "never saw my son again" line. The writers have charming things to say about adopted families in The X-Files.)

Now he’s running around the hospital looking for Molly (the sister who scared Jackie because she can breathe underwater, etc. etc.)

Reunited with Molly.

Now the kids are throwing the adults with their minds and killing Evil Scientist Badman with the brain thing in order to stay reunited, I guess. Like the Eves. (Another rip-off recycle of their own source material.)

SO, anyway, the Evil Scientist Father died a very gruesome death. 

Cut to the place swarmed with FBI. 

Another guy said, “Skinner, keep your sfjfkfsdfksj behind the red tape.” I think. Can’t understand him. 

Guys, this is the first Mulder-and-Scully posturing I’ve seen since the series began. Praise be, they’re not mannequins. 

Here's the Mulder and William "could have been"s.  

See, guys? His faith is back. He’s choosing to remember his son and reengage with his past~. 

Yeah, and where did THAT come from. 

To recap:

Mulder had depression sometime after 2012, so bad that it made Scully… leave, I guess (which would have been a death sentence for someone with a temperament like Mulder’s.) 

But he shouldn't have had depression after 2012 because 2012 just reset the Colonization clock (according to he, himself, and his theory.)  

So, he’s got "no reason" depression, then disconnects from Conspiracies and shoves away memories of William. 

But he hadn’t had a breakdown or disconnect from reality before My Struggle I (which made Scully’s decision to leave even stupider.) 

And Scully worries he’ll have a breakdown in My Struggle I. 

And he actually didn’t leave Conspiracyville despite also leaving it and knowing things he shouldn’t and not knowing things he should. 

Following?

Conspiracy guy calls up Skinner who calls up Scully who calls up Mulder; and he and she don't hesitate to investigate despite putting “that life” behind them. 

There were no aliens, period, only men in government wearing suits or planting false memories or whathaveyou. 

He’s still got depression but doesn’t, actually, in My Struggle I despite Scully thinking he does and worrying he’ll have a breakdown despite knowing he left Conspiracyville but not coming home, etc. etc.

Both are let into the FBI.

Still following? 

He put William behind him but engages in conspiracies now (despite still engaging in them while not engaging in them-- you get it.) 

Let me reiterate: Mulder. put someone that he loved. behind him. 

Mulder makes peace with the thought that William’s his son regardless and daydreams about movies and rocketships. 

And that’s that on all his hangups, I guess. His crops are watered and his depression is cured. 

And now he and Scully are installed at the FBI... despite the unlikelihood either of them would pass the physical tests, let alone the training they'd need to requalify. To put them on the field otherwise would be very, very dangerous... right, Skinner?

The End. 

Just make this easier for me next time and beat a bat over my head. 

I do have another nitpick. 

Mulder is too downcast in his “happier times” flashbacks, especially compared to Scully’s buoyant, sweet, upbeat persona. So, basically, he has a stunning lack of imagination, I guess. 

Which, jokes aside, is an interesting thought: Mulder creating realities in his mind so convincingly mapped onto his current one that it’s even more devastating to snap out of them and face each and every unsatisfying day.

Also, both he and Scully have the same sort of nightmare....

This had BETTER be Jackson’s way of reaching out to them for help, or so help me I’m going to label these moments as narrative clickbait. 

EYYYYYY, we got an actual Mulder “NO!” It sounded like him, too! FINALLY! SPIRIT! SPUNK! THE MULDER ESSENCE. 

Oh, yeah, that William can get yeeted-- he doesn’t fit my headcanon, anyway. 

Mulder's sitting upright, too, without having woken from a nightmare.

…So this was a deliberate choice on the filmmakers’ part. 

So this is setting up for something. Like William communicating to them BOTH in waking dreams. 

We all know that won’t happen, but, anyway. 

CONCLUSION

YOU’RE NOT GETTING ME WITH THE HAPPY FAMILY TIMES, YOU MANIPULATORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

YOU CAN’T TAKE ME ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE. 

Also: very rarely do I like movie kitchens, but Mulder's... it's alright.

Lastly: again, I am so tired. 

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!  

[accio-victuuri]

time to make lemonades again 🍋🍋

inspired by a previous post i made because something similar happened and here we are. i think that the negative take on these similarities is that the other person/brand is “copying” the other. or one is trying to rub off the popularity of xx. which is a common source of conflict between fans, not just xz’s or wyb’s. and since the topic is trending we have more information of these alleged brand traitors who feed the cpf machine. lol.

this post made by jeanswest with the kadian 10:05 for xz even if their endorser is wyb. tho i went to their weibo and didn’t see this post all when i was trying to confirm. so maybe it was deleted? the next one is hilarious cause they are implying that JW is taking inspiration from xz for their designs like the little prince and tennis. even if the whole line yibo is endorsing have nothing to do with these styles. AHHHH! they are so much better in connecting things that have no relation at all. 😂

and it’s so embarrassing how confident they are that this is copying. xz does not own TLP or the sport of Tennis. no matter how much they associate those things with him. atleast with cpfs, we can give disclaimers but solos being so sure that there is just no other way that an international brand can come up with these designs — other than them wanting to leech from xz is next level unhinged.

but still thanks for the candy i guess?

next up is, p1 a li-ning cap that has 85 on it. but it’s actually a back to the future themed drop. a film that was released in 1985. tho maybe they are angry cause li-ning is a repeat offender. p2 is opening of li-ning’s store and the lottery includes a chance to win a casio watch which wyb was endorsing at the time.

for xz’s zwiling endorsement before, one of the things highlighted by the brand is this machine. idk what. but it said something about brewing coffee at 97 and tea at 85. lol and who are associated with those numbers? wyb!!!! hahahahahahaha!!!!

sometimes i wonder who is the real candy lovin cpf.

moving on….

p1 is by kaixiaozao brand, they posted about a product that has dandan noodles that will make you think of the ancient times. dandan being something that is nicknamed for wyb, and ancient times pertaining to lwj and wyb. p2 is absurd, they are so angry at mengniu cause they replied to a cpf. yes it was xposted on the supertopic, but the account was asking a genuine question of how to purchase. so they answered. as much as so/os want the loyalty of these brands, their main goal is money. they will follow the money. that means more people buying their products. they didn’t choose xx or xxx out of the goodness of their hearts, their teams do research on who to hire and who can bring in more 💰.

another problematic thing done by mengniu before ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

#strawberrymilkbobocup# I know this question! Strawberry and milk go together. It’s the most amazing combination. Let me tell you secretly, add some oats and the taste will be amazing. Someone: I want a strawberry custard cup, but not strawberry. No custard, just...

bobo cup 👀

and what that someone said. they don’t want the strawberry nor the custard/milk. so what does that leave us? Bobo 🤯🤯🤯

this post by i don’t know who that said for roborock, there are a lot of consumers, both peter pan and passion fruit. no lies tho. we do contribute to their sales. it has been that way for a very long time. all these talk of cpfs only love xx or xxx is brainless so/o agenda. they just don’t understand the fact that we can support both and we’ve been doing so for years now. they cannot comprehend it, so they twist it into a narrative that fits them.

lastly, p1 is by bubly and on the can has 85. p2 is zhenguoli and on the poster, they used lwj’s famous tagline ( i wanna take someone back… yep, the same one he said in ttxs )

i’m even seeing one shared the fact that xz allegedly rented a car that has 805 on the license plate. so he must be promoting cp right? 😂😂😂 idk.. maybe it caught his eye because of his boyfriend and didn’t think people will take photos of his car and license plate to speculate on. and their hateful interpretation of what we would say is CPN:

1. The license plate number chosen when renting a car is Wang Yibo’s birthday “805”

2. The name of the shoes worn has Wang Yibo’s abbreviation “Web” ( this refers to gucci re-web )

3. The photo XZ posted on that day ( when he was in Milan and only took photos of his shoes ) imitated Wang Yibo’s photo from last year’s GQ Gala.

Summary: If there is only a single factor, it can be explained as coincidence together, but so many "coincidences" gathered on the same day, it must be "intentional"! XZ has been using this method for the past 5 years … Hype male-male CP in a “both subtle and obvious” way!

I don’t usually post anti or solo rhetoric here unless it’s amusing and this is an example of that. lol. so they do believe those things are connected? that it’s too much of a coincidence???? it’s just that their conclusion is way off compared to a cpf’s. 🤣🤣🤣

that’s all i have for now. i skipped the others, and surprisingly a good number is how angry they are at li ning’s skateboard series. lol.

-END.

[darkwicks-secret-fanfic-author]

Hi there! I hope you are doing super well. I saw your post about you being a writer. I wanted to know if you can write a Tokyo Debunker HC of Mc being a fashion designer. They create clothes for women and men. How would Jin, Romeo, Leo, and Taiga react?

You can disregard this if you don’t want to do it. I’m just super curious and excited to read your work. Take care! 💙

Jin

Would absolutely put MC to work on customizing every dress shirt and suit they have.

Would want MC to autograph the work by putting their initials somewhere discreet, like the inside of a shirt cuff.

Absolutely makes MC measure them and take notes before every piece is cut and made. It's not that he thinks that his measurements have changed, more that he wants the direct attention and control of having MC do it.

MC would never have to want for anything because Jin would pay them 4x their asking rate and chide them for lowballing themselves.

MC would make them a custom set of pajamas for their birthday or Christmas present. Jin would act like it's expected of MC and not bother saying thank you or appreciating the gesture with words, but MC would come in the morning one day to deliver tea and notice that Jin is wearing them. Tohma would tell MC later that Jin wears them every night.

Would commission new suits for the ghouls of the house because no one expects the chaos twins to have fashion sense and they can't go around embarrassing him anymore after the Pit incident.

Romeo

"Excuse me?? Wear WHO?? WTAF, I'd never debase myself with something indie!!!" would be the initial reaction.

He'd wait until he saw Jin or Taiga in MC's designs before he'd realize what an idiot he made out of himself.

Romeo would be the most to treat MC like an actual designer. He'd go to MC's studio and look through pieces on the rack as well as MC's portfolio of sketches and finished pieces. He'd like bits from different shirts, blazers, ties, etc. and commission a suit that would look the best on him.

Would try to convince MC to only do clothing for himself and Taiga as a status symbol.

He would then immediately change his mind and get designs drawn up for the staff at the Casino.

Taiga

He doesn't actually care if he's covered in blood, let alone what he's wearing so it wouldn't be a big deal for him at first.

Taiga's first fitting would be scheduled by Fico so that he could get some new dress shirts that aren't stained by likedove blood or similar. It wouldn't be until he had MC's attention on him and noticed how comfortable the shirts were that he'd enjoy the clothing.

He would be the least demanding of the ghouls about the specifications of his clothes, but the most outwardly pleased by the efforts after all is said and done.

Would probably commission a couple sets of suspenders.

His new suit jacket would look amazing for all of probably 2 days before he ended up ripping it on a tree limb or something while hunting anomalies to eat.

A lot of his casual clothes would be loud prints that MC would secretly screaaaaaaaam about combining, but it would make Taiga smile and actually seem...happy? so it would give MC more reason to do it.

Fittings and other personal appointments would eventually show the difference in personality in Taiga; the loud forgetfulness would give way to quiet and charming.

MC should definitely not accidentally stab themselves with a needle though. That would maybe be bad. or hot. oops?

Leo

As soon as Leo found out about MC's passion for fashion, he would immediately start trying to make fun of them and claim they're frumpy NPC fits...

Which in turn would push MC to actually design something for Leo. They'd go all out on making a street fashion fit that would be in loud colors and a clash of styles and solids. After being taken aback by the effort put in it... Leo may actually love it. Not that he'd show it of course.

Would ABSOLUTELY hype MC up on Tiktok and insert himself in as manager for their work.

Would go Live for a fashion show that he didn't tell MC he was going to do.

Leo would probably start giving advice (in his own way) on MC's design choices to keep them more popular among streetwear and not just mode-kei.

Would bully Sho into buying MC's fits.

THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN THANK YOU BLUE! I didn't know how I'd feel about Leo and MC designing outfits but honestly I could see Leo getting super into it.

If I have the free time i'll do little shorts with each of them! Thank you for popping my prompt cherry.

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 12

Well, this story is complete. I finished it on Friday and will be fully uploaded in two weeks. With chapters 14/15 next week on the 31st and 16/17 on April 7th.

This has been one hell of a ride. I never thought I would ever do omegaverse. But this one just demanded to be written.

TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED

Eddie takes Steve shopping and they go the Grammy's.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

****

Steve loved shopping. It was his favorite thing in the world. He especially loved it when he went with Chrissy or Robin or sometimes even both. But he was finding out that shopping with Eddie was special.

“I’m going to rock your world, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured when they entered the shop.

It was all high end, naturally. But it was the type of stuff Steve would have bought for himself back in high school.

“Eddie...” he whined a little.

It was sweet, it really was. But he couldn’t wear the ‘uniform’ of a omega housewife. Not anymore.

“Just wait, darlin’,” Eddie whispered, “it’s gonna be good.”

Just then a man came over. He was short, barely 5’5”. He had warm brown skin and silver hair.

“Hello, loves,” he said, voice as warm as his skin tone. His accent was the vaguely British of someone who had lived in the United States for a long time.

“Hello,” Eddie greeted, kissing him on each cheek. “Steve, this is Raj. Raj, this is Steve Harrington, he’s a Starcourt omega.”

Raj clasped his hands together. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Steve.”

Eddie turned to Steve. “Raj is a professional stylist. He’s dressed me for many an event and he’s going to help you find your style.”

Steve smiled at him. Because of course Eddie was only trying to help and not make him feel inferior about liking a style that he couldn’t wear.

“Come on, love,” Raj said, “tell me what you like.”

And so Steve did just that.

They spent the afternoon trying on several different combinations and styles that Steve felt like he was a runway model to the crowd of one.

Eddie sat on a big, white, overstuffed armchair and made comments on everything Steve tried on.

Three hours later, Steve was walking out of the store in a navy blue striped polo and tight fitted jeans and several bags filled with clothes of a similar style.

Steve laughed when he exited the shop, twirling around with his bags. Just so happy.

Xander took the bags from Steve and put them in the trunk of the car to keep the bags from going flying.

Eddie pulled him in for a kiss.

“God, you are so gorgeous when you’re happy,” he murmured into Steve’s neck.

Steve hummed. “Well, it’s a good thing that the thing that makes me happiest is you, huh?”

Eddie looked up at him with a tender smile. “Back attcha, big boy.”

Steve wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.

“Will I get to see you before the Grammy’s on Sunday?” he asked, softly.

Eddie sighed. “Unfortunately not. I have so many interviews and shit that I just won’t have time.”

“That’s okay. I still have other work I’ve got scheduled this week.”

Eddie kissed him deeply. “You have fun, babe and I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“Bye.”

Eddie watched as the car pulled away from the curb. He had gotten to meet both Robin and Xander, the two people tasked with keeping Steve safe and he found that he loved them both.

And that fact settled one of the worries in his chest about Steve, knowing that his boy was being looked after properly when he wasn’t around.

****

“Troy’s coming,” Robin said, “I’m not asking, I’m telling you.”

Steve glared at her. “He’s creepy.”

“He’s really not,” she defended. “He’s very protective of the omegas in his care and I need a second pair of eyes on you tonight.”

“I don’t see why,” Steve said rolling his eyes. “I’ve done hundreds of events with only one handler in the past. What makes tonight so special?”

“The press.”

Steve huffed. “I literally when to an event for the press with Nancy, how is this any different?”

“Because these aren’t the civilized press, Steve,” Robin said menacingly. “These are the vultures. The bottom of the barrel. Sleazy, gasping, horrible people who will judge you, seek to tear you down, and humiliate you.”

Steve let out a long sigh. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” She kissed his cheek. “Eddie has his own security, but they’ve been coordinating with Troy and me all week. What’s your signal for needing to get out quick?”

“Moving my clutch from my left hand to my right,” he said.

She nodded. That was a good signal. Steve liked his right hand free to shake hands with people.

“What’s your signal if you need to get away from the alpha?” she asked next.

“I take out my earrings,” he dutifully replied.

Again, not something Steve would normally do, so she nodded.

“The code word to get both of you away from someone who is harassing one or both of you is ‘caveat’.”

“As in ‘one of the caveats for dating an escort is to be understanding when something work related comes up’?”

Robin grinned. “Perfect. All right, we’re good to go.”

Steve grabbed his black clutch and matching shawl. It was February in California, but it was still February.

He draped the shawl over his shoulders and walked out to the car.

Troy and Robin got into a white SUV with Troy at the wheel.

Steve slid into his car to find a waiting Eddie.

“Well this is a surprise,” he cooed, sliding up to press himself against his boyfriend’s side.

Eddie chuckled, lifting his arm to wrap around his shoulders. “Benefits of properly courting you, darlin’. Management is letting me know where you live. Ish.”

“Ish?” Steve asked, scenting along Eddie’s jaw.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “The windows were tinted so I don’t know exactly where we are, but I know enough.”

“Ah.”

Yeah, that made sense.

“You look so pretty, baby,” Eddie said, changing the topic. “You look good enough to eat.”

Steve chuckled. “So do you.”

And he did. He was wearing a black suit coat with black rhinestones embroidered into the lapels, with a white button up shirt that decidedly not, tucked into a pair of black slacks. On his neck were several necklaces and chains and his wrists were covered in bangles and more chains.

He had a single earring in his left ear which was an upside down cross.

Steve was enraptured.

“This is all for you, baby doll,” Eddie murmured into Steve’s ear. “I rarely dress up for these things, but I wanted to look good for you.” His hand reached around to cup Steve’s ass. “Especially with you looking like sex on legs in that short dress.”

Steve chuckled. “You keep this up and we’re going end up torturing poor Xander’s ears by having sex back here.”

Eddie’s eyes blew wide. “Shit Stevie, if we didn’t have to be there at a specific time, I would absolutely hold you to that.” And he pulled Steve even closer to him so that the omega could feel the reaction to his words.

Steve couldn’t stop himself from scenting Eddie again.

“Did I tell you that thing the attracted me to you second to you being the sweetest thing,” he murmured, “was your scent?”

Eddie licked his lips. “Right back ya. Together we smell of Christmas.”

Steve giggled. “A little bit, yeah.”

Xander caught Steve’s eye in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrow causing the omega to blush, ducking his head shyly.

Xander knew something that Robin didn’t as she couldn’t be in the car with him for things like this.

Despite a Starcourt escorts’ reputation for being sex pots, sex wasn’t allowed in the back of the car. Mainly because of the driver, but also because what they did was meant to be higher than just make outs in the back of a car.

It wasn’t a rule, like not giving out their personal number was a rule, but it was a guideline that Steve had adhered to almost religiously. So for him to even suggest jumping Eddie was completely out of character for him.

Eddie raised Steve’s head gently with his forefinger. “You look so pretty when you blush, baby, but there is nothing going on here that you need to be ashamed of, okay?”

Steve nodded.

Just then the car rolled to a stop, signaling that they had arrived at the red carpet.

Behind them Troy and Robin stepped out with Eddie’s two security members. All of them dressed in black suits and ties with pristine white button up shirts.

All of them pulled out their sunglasses and slid them on. Troy walked up to the door and opened it.

Eddie slid out first, waving to the crowd. Then he turned around and helped Steve get out of the car. Steve waved, too, then slipped his hand around Eddie’s arm.

“The first interview is with Vanity Fair, Kayla Brosnahan,” Troy murmured to them. “She’s very fashion orientated so she’ll ask about your clothes first.”

Steve nodded. He glanced at Eddie, who nodded.

They walked up to the beautiful alpha reporter in a long, slinky, red dress.

“Kayla, Vanity Fair,” she said to the cameraman, “here with Eddie Munson, frontman of Corroded Coffin who is up for three awards tonight, and Starcourt escort, Steve Harrington.”

She turned to them. “Wow! You two look absolutely stunning together. Who designed your clothes tonight?”

Steve smiled. “Omega designer, Lola Martinez and the jewelry is by St Giovanni.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “Those are some pretty big names. And how about you, Eddie? Who are you wearing tonight?”

“Jimmy Pantera.”

Jimmy was a known alternative style fashion designer. Chains, leather, denim, studs; basically the metal and grunge scene. What Eddie as wearing would have been very conservative for his collection.

“Very nice,” Kayla said. “I can see it now. Wow.” She turned to Steve. “Have you had any clients cancel on you because you’re being courted?”

Eddie bristled and was about to lay into her when Steve touched his elbow.

Steve batted his eyelashes with a simpering pout. “Oh, Kayla, you know all client information is confidential.” Kayla opened her mouth to say something snide, but Steve beat her to it. “Plus, I don’t kiss and tell. Not like a certain omega who’s been warming your bed.”

Suddenly she was sputtering and back tracking. “Eddie, you’re up for three awards tonight, what are your hopes for tonight?”

“Corroded Coffin and I are very happy to have been nominated for Best Metal Album, Album of the Year, and Single of the Year for ‘Hell’s Lookin’ Better Than Heaven’, but we were disappointed we weren’t nominated for more. Best Metal Performance is a prime example. Even though we made more money then any other touring band last year, we weren’t even considered.”

Again Kayla was forced to back track and try to start over but they had chosen that moment to move on. Kayla turned to her camera and made a slicing motion across her throat to tell him to stop taping.

All the interviews kept in the same vein. They would be chatty, ask about what they were wearing or who they were most excited to see perform and then drop shit like:

“Are you going to make Steve stop escorting once finish your courtship?”

To which Eddie replied, “I’m not so fragile that I need constant validation that my dick is big enough. Stevie is his own person and if he wants to keep working, why would I stop him?”

Followed by back pedaling and Steve and Eddie moving on.

Next asshole:

“Steve, are you angling for a bond to get out of being an escort?”

Steve and Eddie just blinked at him like he was too stupid for words. They just walked off.

Once Troy just moved them past an interviewer calling their name.

Steve looked down and a little behind him. “What was wrong with that one?”

“He’s been sexually harassing omegas that come through,” Troy muttered back. “Making lewd comments, making passes at them, touching them without their consent.”

Steve nodded and Eddie put a protective hand on his lower back. They made it through the gauntlet and into the Radio Music Hall.

They sat down at the table that already had the rest of the band and their plus ones and settled into enjoy the show.

****

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369

​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

@val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten

@vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @y4r3luv @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow

@yellowdevilkitten @eyehartart @mangoinacan13 @demolvr @ellietheasexylibrarian

@rememberthatiloveyou @slowandsteddie @r0binscript @alyelf @melodymeddler

@mogami13 @annabanannabeth @disrespectedgoatman @manda-panda-monium @maya-custodios-dionach

[eeechooo]

She Gets Me

Fandom : Lockwood & Co

Pairing : Reader x George Karim

Request : @thestrangerblog

George has a pen pal (Reader) with whom he feels a deep connection, sharing similar interests and ways of thinking. They decide to finally meet in person for a casual picnic. As George gets ready in his usual casual clothes, Lockwood and Holly question his outfit, suggesting he should dress to impress. George firmly replies, "That’s how I am. Take it or leave it."

You’d been counting down the days. After months of exchanging letters filled with theories about ghostly phenomena, discussions on obscure historical facts, and shared frustrations about the peacock types in your respective fields, you were finally going to meet George in person. The picnic was your idea—a casual, no-pressure setting where you could both be yourselves. You had carefully chosen a spot in the park, a place with a mix of sun and shade, where the two of you could talk for hours without interruption.

Meanwhile, at 35 Portland Row, George was in his room, staring at his open wardrobe. He rifled through his clothes, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Should he go for something a bit more polished? Maybe a shirt without holes? No, he decided, shaking his head. He pulled out his favourite band T-shirt, one that had seen countless adventures and cases. It was soft, comfortable, and familiar—much like how he hoped the meeting with you would feel. He paired it with his trusty worn jeans, the ones that fit just right.

As he glanced at himself in the mirror, he ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to tame it but ultimately giving up. It sprang back to its usual dishevelled state. George nodded to himself, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. This was him, and he wanted you to meet the real George.

Downstairs, Lockwood and Holly were waiting, their curiosity barely contained. Lockwood, with his usual impeccable style, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow as George descended the stairs.

‘You’re going like this?’ Lockwood asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and amusement.

George paused on the last step, looking down at his outfit, then back up at Lockwood. ‘Yeah, why not?’ he replied, shrugging. ‘It’s a picnic, not a gala.’

Holly, always the picture of grace and fashion, tilted her head and scanned George’s attire critically. ‘A picnic, George? Don’t you want to make a good impression?’

George rolled his eyes, feeling a mix of irritation and amusement. ‘I’m meeting someone who already knows me, Holly. They’ve read my letters, they know my thoughts. If they don’t like me for who I am, then what’s the point?’

Lockwood and Holly exchanged a glance. Lockwood’s stern expression softened slightly. ‘Just make sure you bring back some good stories,’ he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Holly sighed but smiled warmly. ‘Fine, but at least comb your hair a bit more.’

George laughed, running his fingers through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to neaten it. ‘Happy now?’ he asked with a grin.

‘Close enough,’ Holly replied with a chuckle.

As George walked out the door, he felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. He was about to meet someone who had become a significant part of his life through letters. Someone who understood his passions and frustrations. He hoped the reality would match the connection they had built on paper. Who understood him.

You arrived at the park a little early, your heart racing with anticipation. You chose a spot under a large oak tree, spreading out the picnic blanket and arranging the food with meticulous care. The sun bathed everything in a warm glow, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves above, creating a peaceful atmosphere.

As you adjusted the layout, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. You wondered if George would be the same in person as he was in his letters—thoughtful, engaging, and deeply passionate about the supernatural.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. You looked up and saw George, exactly as you had imagined him: dishevelled hair, casual clothes, and a warm, genuine smile.

‘Hey,’ he greeted, his voice as familiar as his written words.

‘George!’ you exclaimed, standing up to meet him. ‘It’s so great to finally meet you in person.’

He smiled back, a bit shyly. ‘You too.’

You both settled down on the blanket, and the initial awkwardness quickly dissolved as you began to talk. The conversation flowed naturally, just like in your letters. You discussed the latest happenings in your agencies, shared your most recent discoveries, and vented about the superficial people you had to deal with in your line of work.

‘I can’t stand those types at Rotwell,’ you said, rolling your eyes. ‘You know, the ones who think a charming smile and a nice suit make them experts.’

George laughed heartily, nodding in agreement. ‘Tell me about it. They’re more interested in networking than actual research. It’s infuriating. Holly used to work with them, the lunatic.’

You felt a deep sense of camaraderie. Here was someone who truly understood your frustrations and shared your passion for uncovering the truth about the supernatural. That's exactly what you needed and wanted.

As the afternoon wore on, George began to talk about his latest project—a discovery he had made about the origins of a particularly aggressive Type Two. His eyes lit up with excitement as he described the breakthrough, his hands animatedly sketching out the details on a napkin.

‘And the best part?’ he said, leaning in closer. ‘It ties back to an old Persian legend my grandmother used to tell me. I’ve been researching it for months, and I finally made the connection.’

You listened intently, captivated by his enthusiasm and depth of knowledge. It was clear how much he loved what he did, and it made you appreciate him even more.

As the conversation shifted, George started talking about his passion for cooking, particularly Persian dishes. He recounted stories of his grandmother’s recipes, describing the rich, aromatic flavours with a reverence that made your mouth water. You remembered him writing about it, but now you could smell the faint scent of saffron on him, making it real.

‘You’ll have to try my tahdig sometime,’ he said with a grin. ‘It’s a crispy rice dish, and I’ve perfected the recipe over the years.’

You smiled, feeling a warm connection with him. ‘I’d love that. It sounds delicious.’

The sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park. You both fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. The fading light painted a serene picture around you, enhancing the sense of intimacy between you—a shared understanding and mutual respect that went beyond words.

George glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. ‘This has been really great,’ he said quietly.

You nodded, feeling a rush of warmth. ‘It really has.’

As the sky turned shades of orange and pink, you knew that this meeting was just the beginning. There was so much more to explore together—more conversations, more shared moments, and perhaps even more Persian dishes to taste.

Back at 35 Portland Row, Lockwood and Holly were waiting eagerly for George’s return. They sat in the cosy library, Holly flipping through a book while Lockwood sipped on a cup of tea, both stealing glances at the clock every few minutes.

Finally, they heard the door open and George’s footsteps approaching. Lockwood set down his cup, his expression curious yet guarded. Holly closed her book gently, her eyes bright with anticipation.

‘Well?’ Lockwood prompted as George entered the room, a contented smile playing on his lips.

George grinned, the glow of satisfaction evident in his eyes. ‘It was amazing,’ he began, his voice filled with excitement. ‘We talked for hours. She’s exactly as I imagined—smart, funny, and so easy to talk to. We just clicked.’

Lockwood raised an eyebrow, his demeanour cautious. ‘And did you discuss any sensitive matters?’

George’s smile faltered slightly. He knew exactly what Lockwood was referring to—Joplin, the painful reminder of the dangers of revealing too much to those outside the agency. Too much, about the Problem, about him.

‘Nothing too sensitive,’ George assured him quickly, his tone earnest. ‘Just general discussions about work, our interests... you know.’

Holly’s eyes softened with understanding as she exchanged a glance with Lockwood. They both knew how cautious they had to be, especially after what happened with Pamela. Lockwood leaned forward in his chair, his expression serious yet supportive.

‘We’re glad to hear it went well,’ Lockwood said genuinely, reaching out to give George a pat on the back.

‘Yeah,’ Holly agreed, her voice gentle. ‘Sounds like you found someone who appreciates the real you.’

George nodded, feeling a sense of contentment settle over him. ‘I think I have,’ he replied softly, grateful for their concern yet eager to protect this new connection he had forged.

He knew he had to tread carefully, to not let his guard down completely. But in that moment, surrounded by his trusted friends who had become like family, George felt a rare sense of hope—that maybe, just maybe, this time things could be different.

After the first picnic with George, you returned home feeling a mixture of exhilaration and contentment. As you stepped into your shared apartment, your roommate greeted you with a knowing smile, her eyes twinkling mischievously over the rim of her teacup.

‘Well, well, well,’ she teased playfully. ‘How was your date?’

You chuckled, setting down your bag and joining her at the kitchen table. ‘It wasn’t a date,’ you clarified with a grin. ‘Just a picnic. But it was amazing. George is exactly as I imagined him—smart, funny, and so easy to talk to.’

Your roommate raised an eyebrow knowingly. ‘Sounds like a date to me,’ she quipped, taking another sip of her tea.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. ‘Okay, maybe it felt a little bit like a date,’ you admitted, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks.

She leaned forward, curiosity evident in her expression. ‘So, are you going to see him again?’

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. ‘I hope so. We really clicked.’

She grinned, setting her teacup down with a satisfied nod. ‘I’m happy for you. It’s about time you met someone who gets you.’

You felt a rush of warmth at her words. It was comforting to have someone who understood you so well, who supported your happiness without hesitation.

‘Yeah,’ you replied softly, gratitude filling your voice. ‘Me too.’

As you recounted the highlights of the picnic—George’s stories, his passion for the supernatural, and even his talent for cooking—your roommate listened attentively, sharing in your excitement and offering words of encouragement.

By the end of the conversation, you couldn't help but feel even more certain about the connection you had with George. And as you settled into bed that night, thoughts of future picnics and conversations danced through your mind, filling you with anticipation for what was to come.

Days turned into weeks, and George found himself eagerly anticipating each interaction with you. Whether it was meeting for coffee after work or exchanging late-night messages about the latest supernatural phenomena, every moment spent together deepened your connection.

Lockwood and Holly watched with cautious optimism as George navigated this new friendship. They could see how much George valued you, how your presence brought a new lightness to his demeanour. And while they remained vigilant, they couldn’t deny the genuine joy they saw in George’s eyes. After a month of bright eyes from their coworker and best friend with your name always on his lips, Lucy, Lockwood, and Holly decided that, perhaps, they could trust you.

As weeks passed, the bond between you and George continued to grow stronger. Every meeting brought new conversations, shared laughter, and a deepening understanding of each other's passions and quirks. Lockwood, Lucy, and Holly observed with cautious optimism, seeing how much joy you brought into George's life and how well you fit there, with him.

One evening, George received a rather unexpected invitation from Lockwood. ‘How about dinner at 35 Portland Row tomorrow night?’ Lockwood suggested "casually". ‘I thought it would be nice for all of us to spend some time together.’

George, surprised yet pleased, agreed. He relayed the invitation to you, and you gladly accepted, feeling both nervous and excited at the prospect of spending more time with George outside of your usual hangouts.

The next evening, you arrived at 35 Portland Row, the unfamiliar house exuding an air of mystery and warmth. You opted for a casual outfit—a comfortable jumper and jeans—but as soon as you stepped inside, Holly and Lucy greeted you with laughter.

‘Oh, you look absolutely adorable!’ Holly exclaimed, her eyes twinkling without an ounce of malice.

Lucy smiled warmly. ‘It's nice to see someone not dressed to impress for once.’

You chuckled, feeling immediately at ease with their playful banter. Lockwood appeared from the study, a gracious smile on his face as he welcomed you.

‘Welcome, please make yourself at home,’ Lockwood said, gesturing towards the dining room where the table was set for dinner.

The evening flowed smoothly as everyone settled in. Lockwood proved to be a gracious host, regaling you with stories of their recent cases and engaging you in lively discussions about supernatural phenomena. You found yourself drawn into the conversation, sharing your own insights and experiences, feeling a sense of belonging among George's friends.

During dinner, you found yourself seated next to George. He smiled warmly at you, his eyes reflecting the same joy and comfort you felt. As you talked, you realised how much you shared in common—not just your interests in the supernatural, but your values and perspectives on life itself.

‘I'm glad you're here,’ George whispered to you softly as you savoured his exquisite cooking.

‘Me too,’ you replied with a genuine smile, feeling a warmth spreading through your heart.

Lockwood and Lucy watched the interaction with subtle approval, exchanging knowing glances. After dinner, as you helped clear the table, Lockwood approached George discreetly.

‘I trust your judgment, George,’ Lockwood murmured, his voice low but earnest. ‘Both in your work and in your... friendships.’

George met Lockwood's gaze, a sense of gratitude and responsibility settling over him. ‘Thank you, Lockwood,’ he replied quietly. ‘I appreciate that.’

Lockwood nodded, his expression serious yet supportive. ‘You've both earned it,’ he added before returning to help Holly and Lucy with the dishes.

As you said your goodbyes later that evening, you felt a renewed sense of connection with George and his friends. And as you walked away from 35 Portland Row, you knew that you were becoming a part of something special, something that felt like home.

I AM SO LATE LMAODOSO HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY!!! I hope it was good, my laptop has been annoying the whole time I couldn't really get IN you know.

I love how george is just being like yes I'm gonna meet her and it's either she likes me or she can go home

I'm trying to get back to writing, the exams killed me but it's okay I'll fight back SO IF YOU WANT TO MAKE ANY REQUEST IT'S OPEN

Taglist :

@cielooci @neewtmas @35-portlandxrow

[what0smart]

All Jon Kent Absolute Power 3 Appearances!!! Spoilers

I really enjoy the writing how Amanda knew should would need a back up plan as the Amazo bots showed their flaws and the resistance was still a massive problem so her turning to other universes is really cool. It really fits how deep her planing goes always having multiple options or back up plans, she’s like batman in that way. Also love seeing how angry she’s getting over this, I adore it when extremely controlling or confident villains lose their cool, it’s so satisfying. She seemed genuinely offended by what Jon did so I wonder if that time messing with Brainiac Queen’s head also did make her think of her like a daughter, or if she’s just trying to sound caring to manipulate her. I’m leaning more towards she unintentionally got attached to Brainiac Queen since this event seems to have a focus on Amanda and what happened to her family.

As for the Jon content, oh my god I adore Dan Mora’s art style and how he draw Jon as the tech leaves his body was so good. Loved that Nightwing’s voice and the memories of his dad gave him the spirit he needed to fight back. I’m so glad that Nightwing has been acting like a guardian to Jon, it’s so cute and one of my favorite additions of Jon’s relationships with other characters. That panel of Jon hugging Clark is so pure I love it!

NOT TO MENTION HIS FIRST THOUGHT AFTER HE GAINING CONSCIOUSNESS IS JAY AND IF HE’S OKAY??? Would have loved to see Jon save Jay but I think the both of them have gone through enough to where I’m okay with seeing them reunite in a safe house. Also Jon probably won’t have scarring from this but it will be a forever headcanon of mine that he does have scarring across his body and chronic pain cause it looked incredibly painful how they had to remove it. I give Jay the same treatment cause him and Jon have so many similarities between, when Jon got all of the tech removed I kept thinking back to that panel of Jay on the table getting experimented on.

Overall I’m still really enjoying this event and after all the updates I’ve been seeing I can’t wait to see more JayJon and Nia in Superson!!!

[thewonyoungeffect]

how to achieve the “wonyoung” aesthetic !!

people make it seem like you have to wake up super early, eat entirely healthy, have a really long workout routine to have the wonyoung aesthetic, but i’m here to tell you that is not the case at all !! wonyoungism is basically just being your best self like wonyoung, not being wonyoung.

PART 1: MENTALLY

to really get into the wonyoung effect, you have to work on your mental state!! i’ll show you some ways to start thinking positive and such !!

• DECLUTTER: go through your phone and just delete anybody who you don’t talk to anymore, if they don’t benefit you, are toxic, something like that, delete them

• YOU FIRST: start putting yourself first, learn how to say no, set boundaries, don’t let anyone take advantage of you or treat you how they wanna treat you.

• JOURNALING: try journaling, you can experiment with journaling in an attempt to get to know yourself better like your strengths, weaknesses, values, etc !! if you don’t like journaling, you can try different hobbies to see what you like and don’t like to do !!

• CONFIDENCE: work on your confidence, you can do this by experimenting with different styles (if you wear things you like, it can help you gain confidence), have friends that are confident and positive, and try stepping out of your comfort zone (this one isn’t easy so take your time with it)

• YOU TIME: start making days to just hang out with yourself !! you can do anything (movies, food, books) anything that makes you happy !! hanging out with yourself can help you understand who you are inside :)

(if you need anymore advice about this topic, feel free to ask me in my inbox or my comments💗)

PART 2: PHYSICALLY

if you wanna glow up physically, this is the section for you !!

•DRINK WATER: i cannot stress this enough, please drink water !! not only is it good for you but it has MANY benefits .. (eg: clearer skin, flushes out bad bacteria in your body and bladder, regulates your body temperature, and more) if you don’t like drinking water, you can try getting a cirkul water bottle or something like that, it’s water but it taste like juice and they have many different flavors!! my favorite is fruit punch !!!

if you cant afford that, you can just try adding fruit to your water (i suggest lemon)

• SKINCARE: skincare is important, no you don’t need a twenty step routine!! all you need is cleanser, moisturizer, and some sunscreen !!

DISCLAIMER: dont just go buying any skincare because the label is pretty, it might not suit your skin, figure out your skin type and buy items that suit your skin type.

make sure you do your skincare both day and night, it’s okay if you forget, we aren’t robots, we don’t need to be perfect everyday !!

first you cleanse (at least sixty seconds, helps remove dirt in your skin), rinse and then put your moisturizer (helps keep your skin soft and hydrated), then you put your sunscreen (helps protect your skin from skin cancer, sunburn, aging, etc)

• HYGIENE: along with skincare, it is important to shower regularly!! make sure you get all the important spots , and this is optional, but you can get some body scrubs to exfoliate your skin!!

(i made a similar post about this next section titled “how to look your best at school” it basically just covers all of this, but i’m gonna go over it again!!)

• HAIR: try a new hairstyle!! it can really enhance your look, you can try and find some that fit your face shape better or just try any !! it’s your life :)

STYLE: find your style, find out what clothes suit you, what clothes you like, your aesthetic !! don’t forget accessories :)

that’s all i have for now, i can make in depth blogs about any of these topics, feel free to ask‼️