#there before then. not that it makes much of a difference when it’s 100 degrees in the summer but you know. whatever

[nottskyler]

Dear President Russell M Nelson,

Congratulations on making it to 100. I know it was a significant goal for you and you worked hard both physically and spiritually to make it this far. I know there are a lot of things outside our control to having a long life, but it also takes work.

Thank you for the challenge to read the Book of Mormon before the year was out back in 2018. My life has been irrevocably changed for the better for following that counsel. I learned much about myself and the world and Gd’s plan for me and began a path of repentance that has brought me closer to Christ and brought joy into a life that was characterized by despair before.

And that is simply a personal way that I know you are called of Gd to be our prophet. It is very clear how you were prepared to lead the Church at this time, especially with how your responses to revelation prepared the Church for the pandemic. A pandemic following a change in policy that barred me from sharing the joy that I found by following your counsel. It is sometimes hard to reconcile the exclusionary policy that you have permitted to be put in place under your leadership with my testimony that you are a prophet of Gd because following your counsel led me to Christ and the good things that come from repentance.

It is the same juxtaposition of you having a medical degree and then claiming that life (when the spirit enters the body) begins at conception because a unique genetic code was created. Conception comes before the medical definition of pregnancy which is before the latest point identical twins can be formed. Identical twins are clearly two different spirits with the same genetic code. The truth we learn from science is giving a different truth than the one that you claimed in your press conference on the reversal of roe v wade.

Not to harp on something you said one time not even during General Conference, but I was finally pregnant after years of infertility and it seemed to mock my pain of late periods and failed fertility treatments. I came to the conclusion that you were wrong and speaking your personal opinion and not the thoughts and feelings of Heavenly Father or our Savior Jesus Christ. A conclusion that many would think contradicts my previous statement about believing that you are a prophet of Gd.

But to believe that the prophets can do no wrong is idolatry. To claim that the truth is only what prophets have confirmed first is priestcraft. This is not the Lord’s way who said: “If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself.” (John 7:17); “Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.” (Matthew 7:20). Or even Moroni closing his addition to the Book of Mormon “And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.” (Moroni 10:5) and “For behold, my brethren, it is given unto you to judge, that ye may know good from evil; and the way to judge is as plain, that ye may know with a perfect knowledge, as the daylight is from the dark night.” (Moroni 7:15).

Besides, how can we be fit for the Celestial Kingdom if we, as individuals of the Church, are to surrender our agency to you and never learn how to discern truth for ourselves. You set yourself up as the king of the Church when you say you are the only source of truth. Then all the sins of those who follow you without question become stains on your garments.

It is a difficult task to reconcile these types of mistakes with someone upholding a high calling that presumably has direct access to Gd, but then I realized that the traditions of our fathers was what made me ignore Gd telling me to repent much earlier than the 2018 Book of Mormon reading challenge. False traditions drain true intent and curiosity when you ask Gd because you feel confident that you know the answer and so you study with bias to confirm your worldview and you don’t have intent to do anything different if the answer isn’t what you expect. False traditions frame revelation so that you ignore key pieces because your mind fills in the default expectation instead of what actually exists in the revelation. In the end, I’m glad that I’m a nobody who only has to deal with the consequences of my own actions instead of being in your shoes where my same mistakes would’ve cause much more damage and would’ve been much harder to change direction when I learned I was wrong.

So I pray that your mind will be open to look past the false traditions of our fathers, to be open to the testimony of those othered by the Church organization. I pray that you realize that what you are doing is priestcraft so that you will swiftly repent and put effort into making sure you aren’t standing between us and Christ. I pray that you will repent in this life so you can share our joy.

Sincerely,

nottskyler

[seilon]

just sent a hastily-made new resume to a hiring manager at a place i might get a summer job at and realized after sending it that it still has “MONTH 20XX – MONTH 20XX” written for one of my past jobs’ durations fucking shoot me

[bengals-ix]

Sun-Kissed

Ted’s pool party turned out to be a lot more fun than you thought it would be…👀

Warnings: Joe looking like a beach babe, emphasize the BABE; smut; fingering if you squint; that freaking chain; etc.

Also this is like probs my first official time writing smut so hopefully it doesn’t bore you or make you cringe, if it does, I am so sorry :*)

Also, thanks to @balanceingrace for the encouragement❤️

Part Two is Here!

You and Joe arrive at Ted’s house for the pool party he was having for Memorial Day weekend. A lot of Joe’s teammates and their girlfriends and wives were going to be there as well, so you talked Joe into going so he could be social for once.

You sit down in-between Joe Bachie’s girlfriend, Holly and Sam’s girlfriend, Jess on the edge of the pool along with a couple of the other girls.

“That hair driving Joe nuts yet?” Holly asks and you giggle.

“Not yet anyway. He does mess with it constantly but I honestly think he likes it. We’ll see how he feels about it in July and August when its borderline 100 degrees during practice” you give her a smug look and she laughs.

“What do you think about it?” Jess smirks.

“I like it. It’s different. We were together for almost a year when he grew it out super long the first time and I didn’t mind it then but I’m curious to see what he’d look like with it now. That man has aged like fine wine so I’m excited to see some flow” you bite your lip and the girls giggle.

“You talkin’ shit?” Joe asks from behind you, standing over you.

“About you? Of course” you smile back at him and he just shakes his head as he hands you a cold bottle of water.

When you looks back at your man, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander.

Joe had come back from playing basketball with some of the guys, his button up shirt all the way unbuttoned, showing his tan, sweaty, toned chest and torso. His chest being your weakness. His hair that has gotten longer over the past couple months and you were becoming feral over this new style he was trying. His hair was more blonde than usual, all thanks to the sun. The dirty blonde becoming low lights while the blonde really shown through. His Cartier sunglasses sitting nicely on his nose and cheekbones along with his chain around his neck that glittered in the sun, the rays bring out the jewels perfectly. Good God, you thought, if he just bent me over right now-.

“Damn, when did you turn into a slut?” You dip down your sunglasses at him, trying to joke with him instead of pouncing on him like a freaking tiger.

“A long time ago. When I started dating you” he dips his sunglasses down, copying you and shooting you a wink, which just made you even more hot. He’s such a jerk.

“Jesus” you mutter under your breath. This was too much stimulation for you, and you was afraid that if you looked at him any longer that you would

1) do or say something that no one else around should experience in public or 2) melt; which you were already doing.

“Well you need to quit because all of your ‘girlies’ can’t handle all of this” you motions to the heavenly being that was him. You couldn’t even handle all of that.

“Oh this is just for you, pretty girl. No one else to impress but you” he looks smugly at you, that famous smirk making its way onto his perfect lips.

And…it was done. That did you in.

You turn back around, facing the pool. You look over at Holly who knew what you were thinking.

“I’ll cover for you, get ya some” she smirks and nods her head towards the house.

“Thank you” you whisper to her before climbing out of the pool and facing back towards Joe. He chuckles lowly and you place your hand on his lower back, turning him around and pushing him nonchalantly into the house.

“Something wrong?” Joe asks you sarcastically, knowing the effect he has on you. Knowing your weaknesses that easily make you all hot and bothered for him.

You push him down the hallway and into the guest room and shutting the door behind you, locking it without even looking, just watching your man stare at you with eyes that were once bright blue, now dark as the depths of the ocean. And you were about to go for a dive.

“You” you tell him plainly. You make your way toward him, your hands finding their way to his bare, broad chest and your eyes looking up at him through your lashes.

“You are what’s wrong…but so right” you whisper.

In seconds, his strong hands grab your cheeks and his lips are on yours. Hard, unyielding, but loving and passionate. He couldn’t get enough of you and that damn berry chapstick you wore all the time. Your lips have never tasted any different.

His hands slide into your hair, gripping onto your long locks, slightly tugging which makes you moan against his mouth, causing his lips to curve up into a small smile.

Joe wasn’t one for PDA, but you get him in a room by yourselves, he was on you in less than a minute. Believe it or not, the man was handsy. But you didn’t mind the feeling of his strong, veiny hands on you, touching you, holding you. It was ecstasy.

His hands grip your hips as yours slide up his chest, to his shoulders, around his neck and into his dirty blonde hair that was now longer, easier to pull. He moans against your lips, spinning you around and letting you fall against the mattress, him going to pull his shirt off but you stop him.

“No. You better leave that on or so help me god-“

“Okay then” he chuckles, “can I take my shorts off or do I have to leave those on too?”

“Off, smart ass” you roll your eyes as you reach for his shorts, unbuttoning them and shoving them down his legs.

“These too?” He asks smugly, snapping the band of his boxer briefs against this skin.

“Joseph, I swear to god-“

“Okay, I’m done” he laughs, leaning down to reattach his lips to yours.

He quickly rids himself of his underwear, also quickly pulling your shorts and your blue bikini bottoms down all in one go and throwing them on the floor. He reaches behind your neck, his fingers sending chills down your spine as he pulls one the strings to your top loose, causing the tie to come undone.

He kisses down your neck, latching onto the place under your ear that makes you weak. He’s careful to not leave a mark, knowing you’d have his ass for having to walk back out to his teammates and their girls with a bright purple and red mark on your neck.

He makes his way down the column of your neck, you becoming a moaning mess, wanting him to be inside you already. He eventually arrives to your chest where he grabs onto the cloth of your matching blue bikini top with his teeth and pulling it down to expose your “perfect” breasts; his words.

“I’m obsessed with you” he says lowly, looking up at you through those blonde lashes and instantly latches onto your right nipple.

“Mmm” you moan, holding onto the back of his head, your fingers tangling into his hair as he swirls his incredible tongue around the bud.

He knew the other one was getting jealous so he moved over to your left breast, giving it the same amount of attention as the right. Joe was neither a boob or a butt guy; he was both. If he had to choose between your boobs or your butt, he would surely die.

Joe pulls away from your chest and looks into your eyes. He takes his index and middle finger and brings it to his mouth, licking them and bring them down to your core. You gasp as they brush your clit, him slowly circling it just to get you more worked up than you already were.

He drags them down to your entrance, teasing you as he feels the mess you’ve already made of yourself.

“Just wanted to make sure you were ready for me” he smirks.

“Always ready for you” you whine as he pulls his fingers away and brings them back up to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them.

“I know” he smiles.

He spits into his hand and brings it down to his dick who was also always ready for you.

You reach down and wrap your hand around him, slowly pumping him.

“O-oh shit” he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder.

You pick up the pace, a bead of precum appearing on his tip, he was starting to become a moaning mess. You take your thumb and slide it over his tip and let go of him to bring your thumb to your mouth. Slipping it into your mouth, you swirl around it, tasting him to which he watches you intently.

“I need to feel you, now” he says, his voice low and raspy. He lines himself up with your entrance before slowly, almost painfully pushing himself in.

“God” you moan out, your breath hitching in your throat as he hit your cervix. You’ll never get used to him, it’s always a pleasant surprise.

“You feel insane, baby” he groans, his head dipping down to your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. Your hands still in his hair, obsessed with gripping onto and pulling on his now longer blonde curls.

He pulls out and pushes all the way back in again, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Joe starts to pick up the pace, the sound of skin smacking skin making the experience oh-so-much better and intense.

“Look at me” he breathes out, his face hovering over yours, that chain gently hitting your chin as he continues to thrust into you. Oh, that could make you come undone right then and there. God bless that freaking chain.

“You are so pretty, Jesus-“ he hisses, starting to fully pound into you, repeatedly hitting that soft spot inside of you, making your eyes roll back once again.

“Joe, I’m gonna-“ your eyes screwing shut as your hands go under the back of his shirt, gripping onto his muscular back.

“Let go, baby, let go” he grunts, his dick spasming against your walls as they clinch around him. He brings his lips back down to yours as you come undone, whimpering into his mouth as he continues to thrust into you, the oversensitivity starting to kick in.

With a couple more sporadic thrusts, moaning your name against your lips, he lets go, coating your walls.

He pulls out of you gently, both of you whimpering at the sensitive feeling. He lies down next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath.

“So the unbuttoned shirt is officially approved?” Joe asks, looking over at you and you giggle.

“10 stamps of approval” you smile at him and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Cool” he smiles back at you before leaning over to you and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“We should probably go back out there before they start to get suspicious” Joe sits up and pulls his underwear and shorts up his long legs and sets your bikini bottoms and shorts on the bed next to you.

“Joe, they’re not stupid, they know damn well what we came in here to do” you scoff and he laughs.

“Well, I’m going to blame it on you if they ask” He helps you stand up.

“Go right ahead and see what happens, you jerk” you narrow your eyes at him as you tie your bikini top strings back.

“Go pee. You can threaten me later, pretty girl” he winks and gives your ass a healthy smack as you make your way to the bathroom.

“It’s not threatening, it’s promising, JB” you tell him, patting his chest.

“Also,” you stop in the doorway, “you should wear that all of the time”

You smirk at him as he smiles at you.

“Oh I will wear it everyday if I get the exact same reaction I did today” he nods.

“Good” you wink and shut the door behind you.

After getting yourself cleaned up and fixing your sex hair, you walk back outside to where Joe was already sitting with the guys, chatting away.

You walk over to Joe and sit yourself on his thick thighs, your favorite seat to sit on, other than his face. Joe presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, once again, sending a chill down your back. You shoot him a loaded look over your shoulder and he smiles up at you, those blue eyes glistening behind his sunglasses.

“Love you” he mouths to you and you blush.

“Love you” you mouth back and turn your attention back to the guys.

One of these days, he will be the death you. But hey, that would be a great way to go out.

[thetriumphantpanda]

where you want your gift, girl? | Joel Miller

Summary | It’s your birthday and Joel, knowing it’s not your favourite celebration, is keen to show you that it‘s not always going to be a bad day, not if he can help it.

Warnings | birthdays, allusions to strained parental relationships, food & alcohol consumption, smoking of (1) cigarette, no/pre-outbreak AU, gift giving, explicit smut, rough sex, choking/breath play, brief spit play, oral sex (F Receiving), safe unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cumplay, literally just filth tbh, no use of y/n.

Word Count | 4.2K

Authors Note | Honestly? It’s my birthday today and all I want is for Joel Miller to fucking rail me to celebrate - we can’t have everything we want I suppose, so we’ll have to deal with writing our fantasies instead! Happy Birthday to me - Enjoy!

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You’d never really enjoyed birthdays. Other people’s, sure. The opportunity to treat your friends and make other people happy was something you’d always loved, but when it was you as the centre of attention, you almost hated it. The way people would train their eyes on you as you opened their gifts, the anxiety that you felt not knowing what it would be and whether you’d have to pretend it was the best thing in the world when you could think of a million things you needed above what they’d given you. It always made you feel ungrateful. Birthdays aren’t as exciting as you get older either, just another reminder of how far behind the rest of your friends you are, how little you seemed to have accomplished next to them in the same amount of years. 

It was no different this year, not really. Your mother had phoned you before you’d gone to work, asked if you received the card she’d sent in the post that had the customary $100 stuffed into it, before chiding you for not doing as you said you would last time you spoke and find a new job, something more challenging, related to that degree you’d spent all her money on. You sigh and hang up the phone before she can say anything else, a mumbled sorry that you were running late but thank you for the card. 

The only saving grace for your birthday this year was the fact it was a Friday, so you didn’t have to worry about drinking too much beer and having to go to work the next morning with a hangover. To their credit, your work colleagues had been quite nice to you - they’d pooled together to get you a gift card for you to spend on whatever you’d like, and Sandra from accounts had made you a birthday cake – red velvet because it was your favourite. Once everyone had eaten a slice, she put a Tupperware on your desk with two more generous slices in it, winking at you before walking away. 

“For your handsome boyfriend.” She’d said, giggling as she walked away. 

There was another saving grace for your birthday, you supposed. Joel Miller. Who had burst into your life in a whirlwind eight months ago when his beautiful daughter had spilled her hot chocolate all over your crisp new shirt in her hurry to get to the table so she could drink it. He’d been the most apologetic you ever thought you’d seen a man, helping you to wipe the worst of it off with napkins whilst Sarah profusely apologised next to you. You’d put a comforting hand on her shoulder, told her it was okay, and that you understood entirely, you’d have been as excited as her to drink hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Joel had insisted on paying for your dry cleaning, something you’re pretty sure only ever happened in films, and when you’d phoned him to tell him it really had been a minimal amount, he’d asked to take you to dinner instead, and the rest really was history. 

He’s phoning you now, his name popping up on the front screen of your phone, you smile as you answer it. 

“Hello, handsome.” You greet. 

“Good afternoon,” His southern drawl hits your ears, “Happy birthday, my darlin’ girl.” 

God, he makes you so happy, “Thank you, cowboy.” 

“You want me to pick you up and take you for dinner?” He asks, “Tommy is gonna look after Sarah tonight, so I’m all yours, whatever you wanna do.” 

You think for a second, sure, dinner out is a nice idea, but it’s been a long week, and you think what you want most is to be at home with him, “You think you could grill me a steak and let me drink beer on your couch instead?” You ask, slightly embarrassed that this is all you want for your birthday. 

“If that’s what you want, darlin’, then I’ll grill you the best steak of your life,” He chuckles, and then you can hear him cover the phone and speak to Sarah, who must be just back from school, “Sarah wants to speak to you real quick.” 

He passes the phone and it’s Sarah’s sweet voice that greets you next, “Happy birthday!” 

“Thank you, honey,” You smile, “You looking forward to some time with your Uncle Tommy?” 

“He’s gonna take me to the movies,” You can hear the grin on her face, “I already heard dad telling him not to feed me too much candy, but he never listens,” You chuckle, “I got you a present,” She speaks again, “I gave it to dad so you can open it later.” 

“Ahhh you sweet girl,” You coo, “I’m sure I’ll love it,” You reassure, “And I’ll be there tomorrow so I can thank you in person.” 

“Alright,” She replies, “Dad wants the phone back, but have a nice birthday with him!” 

You say goodbye to her, and then Joel tells you he’ll be waiting for you when you finish to bring you home. It’s only two hours until the end of the day, but you struggle to focus on the emails you’ve got to answer – you get through as few as is acceptable before the end of the day, logging out at exactly 5:30pm, box of cake clutched in your hand, handbag slung over your shoulder as you head out. 

Joel is leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed over his chest so his biceps are bulging in the flannel he’s wearing, he’s also got one of his ankles crossed over the over. He looks so casual but as devastatingly handsome as he always is. He slips an arm around your waist when you’re close enough, pushing his palm into your lower back to press your body to his, dipping down to press his lips to yours. He’s gentle with it, opening his mouth against yours so he can slip his tongue into your mouth, letting his tongue meld with your own, kissing you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world. 

“Get a room, you two!” It’s Sandra from accounts. 

Joel pulls away just enough to laugh against your lips, pressing his to yours once more before pulling away properly, opening the car door for you to get in, pressing a light swat of his hand to your ass as you hoist yourself up into the truck. 

Once he’s slipped into the driver's side and settled one of his hands on your upper thigh, he starts the drive from the city out to his house. It’s a quiet drive, Joel’s humming along to whatever is playing on the radio, you’re occupied with looking out the window. This is what you love about Joel, that he’ll sit in silence, won’t feel the need to make you talk, it makes you feel comfortable, knowing that he’s there when you need him, but he’s not going to force you to speak when you don’t want to. 

He’s pulled into the drive in no time, picking up the grocery bags from the backseat. You try and peak inside to see what he’s bought; you’re hoping he’s got the ingredients to make those mashed potatoes you like, and mushrooms that he’ll cook on the grill too. 

When he opens the door, you’re almost overwhelmed by the sight that greets you. There are gold and black balloons littering the floor, with one bigger helium balloon, weighted down so it doesn’t float along the ceiling, set in the corner with big ‘happy birthday’ lettering written on it. There’s a birthday banner pinned to the wall, and a selection of wrapped gifts on the coffee table. You have a sneaking suspicion that most of this is Sarah’s doing.

You giggle a little as Joel presses himself against your back, kissing at your neck, “How much of this was Sarah?” You ask, following him through to the kitchen. 

“She blew up all those balloons before she went to bed last night, and she did all the wrapping, but the banner and the big balloon, that was all me, baby.” 

You press your lips to his cheek, smiling as he starts unloading the grocery bags. Two ribeye steaks, and just like you wanted, mushrooms to grill, and potatoes to mash. He leaves you in charge of watching the potatoes whilst he grills the rest of the food outside. Whilst it’s resting, he mashes the potatoes with enough butter to clog your arteries, but when you sit at the table, and those potatoes are in your mouth, you can’t find it in you to care - it’s your birthday after all. 

“Everythin’ alright, baby?” He asks, cutting into his steak.

“It’s perfect,” You grin, spearing a grilled mushroom onto your fork, “Better than sitting in a stuffy restaurant anyway.” 

You finish your food in relative silence. Joel insists on doing the dishes even if he did most of the cooking, before he’s leading you back to the living room. 

Joel sits you down on the couch, treading as carefully as he can through the trail of balloons to get you a fresh beer. He kneels down on the floor between you and the coffee table, taking a glug of his beer, before reaching across the table for the first gift, setting it in your lap. 

“That one is from Sarah,” He explains, “She made me promise you would open it first.” 

“Rules are rules,” You shrug with a chuckle, carefully tearing open the wrapping paper. 

When you pull the paper from the material it was wrapped in you feel overwhelmed. It’s the exact same blouse that Sarah had tipped her hot chocolate over, just in black instead of white. The shirt had been a write off from the start, the chocolate leaving a stain that even the dry cleaner couldn’t get out. 

“She saved her pocket money for months to buy this,” He murmurs, pinching the silky fabric between his fingers, “Said if it was what brought us together, she wanted you to be able to wear it.” 

You can feel tears prickling at your eyes as you fold the material up carefully, “She’s such a special girl, Joel.” You whisper, watching as Joel leans back over the table to pick up another gift. 

“This one’s from Tommy.” He murmurs, handing you the largest box on the table. 

You rip the paper off and open the box, revealing an actual cowboy hat. You laugh, because Tommy has always said in order to properly fit in, you’d need a cowboy hat. Joel reaches into the box, pulling the brown Stetson out of its box, placing it on your head. 

“Suits you, cowgirl,” He growls, leaning under the brim of the hat to kiss you, nibbling your bottom lip as he pulls away, “Keep it on.” He demands when you go to take it off. 

“He didn’t need to get me a gift,” You mutter as Joel moves the two final gifts towards you, “And it’s a proper Stetson, this must have cost a fortune.” 

“Not that it matters, because everyone in this household thinks the world of you, but he thrifted it, mainly because you’ve rubbed off on him and he thinks getting a pair of Levi’s for half price because someone doesn’t want them anymore is the best thing since sliced bread.” 

You tilt the hat on your head a little so you can see under the brim, as he hands you an envelope this time, “These are from me.” 

You open the envelope and pull out a postcard with a from New Orleans. You turn the card over, Joel’s handwriting scrawled on the back. 

“Pack a bag baby, and let me take you away.” 

“Are you for real?!” You exclaim, “You’re going to take me to New Orleans?!” 

“Course I am, darlin’ girl,” He grins, “I know you’ve always wanted to go, and we’ve never been away together.” 

“Are you even real?” You ask, wiping your tears away, because you’re overwhelmed, no-one has ever been so thoughtful. 

“Last time I checked I was,” He chuckles, taking the postcard from your hands, replacing it with the last gift, a small box, “Go on, last one.” 

You take it from his hand, tearing the paper off it to reveal a small box. You open it, and sat inside is a silver necklace, a silver hoop, entwined with a smaller hoop. You’d recognise this anywhere. You’d spotted it in the window of the jewellery shop downtown. You’d spend so long looking at it in the window before deciding you couldn’t afford it, yet here it is, in your hands. 

“Joel,” You breathe, running your fingers over the delicate silver, “This is too much.” 

He presses a single finger to your lips to shut you up, holding his hand out for the box, taking the necklace out as he pushes himself up onto the couch, putting the delicate chain across your neck, “Do you like it?” He asks from behind you, mouth right at your ear, breath hot on your skin.

You turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling your hat fall off your head as he returns the embrace, “I love it Joel,” You murmur into the skin of his neck, “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’ girl.” 

You spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch together. You eat the slices of cake that Sandra had sent you home with, drink more beer, Joel even sits with his guitar outside, playing some of your favourite songs whilst you smoke a cigarette. When the sun has fully set and you’ve let out a particularly loud yawn, Joel closes up the house, takes hold of your hand, and takes you to bed. 

You’re led against the sheets, getting yourself comfortable, when Joel comes back from the bathroom, leaning against the door with his thumb resting on his belt. He’s lookin at you with those deep, coffee-coloured orbs as you turn onto your side, propping your head up on your palm to look at him. 

“How do you want it, baby?” He smirks, taking slow steps towards the bed. 

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, because that is a very good question. Do you want him to be soft and slow like he had been that first time? So concerned he was going to hurt you with his size and strength that he refused to go any harder or faster than was strictly necessary? Or the time he made love to you after you’d looked after Sarah when he had to work late. When he’d walked into his house and found you painting her nails for her, watching a film that he’d never had sat through, his heart bursting with so much love that he had to push it all into you, whispering promises into your ear as he did so. No, you think, that’s not what you want right now. 

“I want you to fuck me, cowboy,” You rasp, “Hard.” 

He’s stood at the foot of the bed now, eyes dark with lust, “Well, what the birthday girl wants,” He murmurs softly, wide, warm palm clasping around your ankle, “The birthday girl gets.” 

He tugs at your ankle, pulling you down the bed in one swoop, your legs dangling over the edge as his fingers work the button of your work trousers loose. You lift your hips up so he can drag them, and your underwear off your body, before he tugs you into a sitting position to work your blouse over your head. Your palms cup his face as you kiss him, your lips giving attention to his plush bottom lip as his hands reach behind you and work the clasp of your bra undone, dragging that off your body so you’re finally bared naked to him. 

He pulls back, trails his eyes over your naked body, before placing his hand on your chest, right between your breasts, pushing you back down onto the bed. He trails his hands down the expanse of your sides, coming to the meat of your thighs as he settles his face between them. Normally this is where he’d tease you, use that mouth to trail soft kisses up and down the inside of your thighs, stopping to nip at the soft skin every once in a while, but he surprises you tonight. 

Joel uses the flat of his tongue to lick a single stripe up the seam of your pussy. Then, he takes his hands, puts them on the backs of your thighs to push your legs back towards you, spreading them open further, baring the entirety of your spread, aching cunt to his face, before that tongue of his is diving into you, licking the slick that has been slowly gathering there from you, groaning at your taste. He drags his tongue up to your clit, using the tip of it to lightly flick at your clit, which has a quiet whimper leaving your lips as you tangle your fingers in his soft curls to keep his head anchored right where it is. 

You’ve never really known a man quite as enthusiastic about eating your pussy as Joel Miller. The way he groans into your cunt as he laps at you, the way his fingers dig bruises into your skin as he holds your legs open for him, it all adds to the way he has your teetering on the edge of your first orgasm of the night in minutes. You’re bucking your hips into his face, chasing that burst of pleasure you know is so close to you. 

You can hear the obscene sounds from him, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolls his tongue over it before letting it go with a pop, or the way he literally slurps the slick from your entrance. It’s when he slips two of his fingers inside your slick cunt that you’re really done for – fingers stretching you open, a poor substitute for what’s to come, but it’s good none-the-less. 

All of a sudden, that fiery burst of pleasure is setting your skin alight. Your body is arching off the bed, pushing your cunt further into Joel’s face as he sucks your clit through your orgasm. You can feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you let out as high-pitched shriek of his name as your body wracks with pleasurable aftershocks. You lie there, warm and pliant as Joel stands once he’s worked you through your orgasm. He takes off his shirt, and you marvel at that body, the one you get to enjoy, broad and strong for his work, but soft around the middle, just like you love. He’s looking you directly in the eye as he undoes the button on his jeans, belt from earlier seemingly lost in the bathroom before. You’re smirking as he drags his jeans and boxers down his legs, stepping out of them, stood before you in all his God damn glory. 

He is, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Especially when he’s got his cock gripped in his fist, pumping himself as you spread your legs for him, pushing yourself up the bed so he can settle between your thighs. 

You can feel the throbbing length of him slipping between your soaked folds as he finds a position, he’s comfortable with. You’re the one that reaches down between you and lines his cock up with your aching core, but it’s all Joel when he thrusts himself inside you, right to the hilt, in one go. He’s leaning forward, head rested in the crook of your neck, your name hissed out into your ear as he adjusts to the tight clench of your cunt. Your nails are already digging into the meat of his biceps when he drags himself out of you, before slamming back in. 

He revels in the way his rough thrusts make your tits bounce, dipping his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, gently nipping at the puckered bud with his teeth before soothing it with the pad of his tongue. He laves the same attention to the other, never once letting up the pace of his hips. 

“This what you wanted, darlin’ girl?” He chokes out, looking down at you writhing in pleasure beneath him. 

“More.” You gasp, hand reaching to grab at his wrist which is planted by the side of your head, propping him up. 

He puts most of his weight on his other hand, letting you drag his other palm to the delicate column of your throat, where the sheer size of his hand covers it in its entirety. He rests it there for a moment, continuing to pound his cock into your pussy, but then he’s adding pressure to the side of your throat, giving you that delicious dizzy feeling to your brain, before he’s releasing the pressure. You’re grinning up at him, moaning his name as his hips continue to slam into your own. 

“Like that, don’t ya?” He asks, “God you look so fuckin’ good with my hand around your throat, pretty girl.” 

“Always fuck me so good, Joel,” You cry out when he shifts his position slightly, cock brushing that sweet spot inside you, “Do it again.”

So he does, he squeezes his fingers around your throat again, your mouth dropping open as a crazed giggle leaves your mouth. You wish you could step outside your body right now and watch, watch what the two of you look like – his hand around your throat, the way he’s pounding into you so hard you’re sure you’ll be sore in the morning. 

You’re both breathing heavily as he trails the hand that was around your throat to grip at your jaw. He squishes your cheeks together, pursing your lips as his mouth claims your own, growling into you as his tongue licks at yours. He’s so fucking overwhelming right now, thick cock splitting you in two, strong body laid across your own, mouth on yours, and it’s still not enough. You want to peel his skin off and climb inside him, let him consume you whole. 

Joel pulls back, hand still on your jaw. 

“You my pretty girl, huh?” He asks, and you can only nod, his hand stopping you from talking, “Belong to me, right?” 

His hand goes back down to grip your throat, gently though, with no pressure, so you can talk to him now. 

“All yours Joel,” You purr at him, “Only ever gonna be yours.” 

“Open your mouth,” He demands, using his hand to gently shake you, so you do, “Stick your tongue out.” 

You do just that, staring straight into his eyes as he leans down, ever so slightly, and spits into your mouth. It’s warm, wet and utterly filthy, and you think it’s the entire reason that you can feel your slick dripping down onto his sheets now. Joel doesn’t even give you the time to swallow, chasing the saliva he’s just put into your mouth with his tongue, giving you the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever received. 

“Fuck,” He spits out, pulling back from your mouth, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, darlin’ girl,” He confesses, those rough thrusts slowing ever so slightly, “Put your hand on your clit for me, let’s do this one together.”

Your hand slinks between your bodies, seeking out that sensitive bud, still reeling from the orgasm he pulled from you, it doesn’t take much work from your fingers to have you teetering on the edge, but you want to do this together, you have to hold on for him. 

“Where d’ya want it?” Joel chokes out as your pussy flutters around him. 

“Inside,” Comes your begging plea to him, “Come inside me, Joel.” 

Your work your fingers across your clit a few more times before you’re coming around his cock, the nails of your free hand digging half-moon shapes into the meat of his shoulder. He manages three, maybe four more thrusts before he’s stilling inside of you, grunting out your name as the white-hot spurt of his spend fills your aching cunt. He fills you up so perfectly, holding himself there for a moment before he lets out a slightly pained sound, pulling himself out of your pussy. 

He sits back on his knees, watching the white trickle of him cum seep from your spent hole. He takes one of his fingers, scooping his cum on it before bringing it to your lips, where you suck it into your mouth, running your tongue over it to catch every bit of the taste of him. He falls forward, forehead pressed to your own, kissing your lips softly, before he moves to lie on his side of the bed. 

You push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning over to kiss him softly, mumbling that you’ll be back in a minute as you pad to the bathroom to clean up. When you come back to his room, he’s already under the covers, your side pushed back and waiting for you, so you clamber in, seeking out his torso under the covers so you can wrap your arm around him. He pulls you flush to his body, slick and warm from sweat, but you don’t care. 

His arm is draped across your shoulder, his fingers tracing slow and soft across your skin, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Happy birthday, darlin’ girl.” He whispers to you as he turns out the light. 

“Best birthday ever,” You mumble softly against his chest as you let your heavy eyes closed, “All because of you, cowboy.” 

[zivazivc]

What kind of nu metal music fits Les's band?

First of all I gotta clarify that I sent this ask myself because I accidentally lost the original through constant editing and drafting. I realize I could just make a regular text post but I'm quirky like that, and a question is a nice little attention grabber for those who are interested.

Anyway...

It's hard to point at one song and say this is their sound, because A: I'm picky, B: the band's style changes over time, and C: I don't know what I'm doing lmao

This answer is very long uhh I don't seem to be able to form short responses, mi scusi 😅

Back at home the brothers' music and then also the first year on the road with Flea the band sounds like the albums Music and especially Grassroots by 311. (Grassroots is such a banger of an album, I listen to it all the time, really recommend.)

Hed's the main influence on the band's sound because he's the main vocalist, songwriter and overall the most invested in the band succeeding (Les's main concern is making ends meet, and Flea is just enjoying the ride lol). At the start Hed and Les have had basically no contact with Rock Trolls so even though they're both more metal/punk than regular rock, their "rock side" is softer at this point. Hed also grew up with hip hop because of his peers so there's a lot of rapping in his lyrics. And he also incorporates reggae into his style a lot because of his favorite uncle, Kymani (one of the guys who live with Ish) who is a Reggae Troll. Hed is pretty much a sponge when it comes to music, much like Floyd. The closest I can come to describing his genre is a fusion of Rap Metal and Reggae Rock which are both already fusion genres jskksdjsk

(The band 311 has two singers and oddly they both sound like Hed and Les to me. SA Martinez (the higher of the two voices) sounds 100%, exactly like how I've imagined Hed's voice in my head. For Les I have a different voice claim because Les's personal style of music is much different from the band, but Nick Hexum (the lead vocalist here) is still in the second place when it comes to voice alone. Imagine my enthusiastic surprise finding voices for both brothers in the same band 😄)

examples from the two albums:

...

While driving around and performing small gigs they come in contact with the alternative and nu metal scene and meet a lot of Rock Trolls (mostly various Metal Trolls) and other mixed trolls, and in the following couple of years their sound gradually becomes heavier (Hed rediscovers screamo lol) and they go from rock to metal.

A year into their "touring" is also around the time Hed meets and starts dating Liv and gets her to join the band. Liv's genre has the heaviest sound of all of them (Industrial/EBM), which influences Hed and the band too. And with Liv on the drums, Hed takes over DJ-ing and is also able to put more focus on the vocals, which also makes Les step down and only sing backing vocals with the rest of the band if needed.

The band in this era sounds like the album Revolution by Insolence and to some degree Introduction to Mayhem by Primer 55.

examples from the albums:

...

Two years into the bands existence is when Floyd runs into them. At first he's more just standing there, observing their practices and performances warily, because he's had bad experiences with Rock Trolls in his one year alone and metal music still kinda freaks him out at this point. But he soon starts joining in in melodic parts and then it progresses into him singing longer and longer segments because he has the strongest vocals of everyone. And once he saves enough of his earnings for a guitar he starts playing the rhythm guitar too. (The guitar he took with him when he left the Troll Tree got stolen before he met the band.)

I guess I should clarify: Flea is the lead guitarist, Les is the bassist, and Liv and Hed switch on the drums and DJ-ing depending on the track. At one point they also get a keyboard.

It's also not that long before Hed and Floyd start actively writing songs together, sharing each others notes, and they start to split the singing parts more evenly. Hed even teaches Floyd screamo techniques, because he thinks Floyd has a great voice for them (He is correct, Floyd has a mean scream 😁).

During this time the band still pretty much sounds like Revolution by Insolence but with more melodic singing parts from Floyd (and screaming/shouting lmao). I think Verge of Umbra is another good band to compare, it sounds more clean and Floydy but still Hedy. (Man, I should write scientific research papers skjdkjf)

↑↑↑ song with the lyrics from the drawing at the top

From here on out I'm a bit unsure how the band's sound develops, but I'm pretty sure Floyd would unintentionally infect them with a mild case of radio friendliness (Pop trolls can't help their in your face nature lmao 😞). So for now I'm stopping here...

This took me days of searching and writing so I would appreciate to hear any thoughts you have if you've come this far and given some of the songs a listen. :)

[wittlesissyb4by]

ABC Degree - Chapter 1

Marianne clutched her books tightly as she made her way through campus. 30 years ago she would have felt right at home. Laughing with the other girls by the fountain, flirting with boys by the quad, or frantically studying before an exam. 

Now? She couldn’t feel more out of place, like all eyes were upon her. She imagined what people were thinking as they saw her: What does this woman think she is doing trying to get a higher education at her age?

She felt even more foolish about what she was here to study: Adult Baby Care and Development or ‘ABCD’ as the kids were calling it these days. She’d known for a while about these Adult Babies, and how they were becoming more and more common in today’s world, either by choice or by punishment. But she had no idea they would actually offer a class in a prestigious University about how to care for one. She had even less of an idea that her husband would be the one who needed caring for. 

It was a little over a year ago when Jack first came to her about his diaper fetish. Throughout their 8 years of marriage, she’d always known he’d been hiding something. The way he would turn his phone ever so slightly in her presence, the way he’d make 100 different clicks on the computer as soon as she unexpectedly walked into the office, and how flushed and flustered he would get any time she used that same computer. Like he was terrified she’d stumble upon his goldmine of a porn stash.

So when Jack finally came to her and confessed his longstanding affinity for diapers, she was actually a bit relieved. At least he wasn’t cheating on her like she’d suspected. But with this new revelation came a whole host of insecurities. She saw how vulnerable he was when he approached her, how terrified he must have been to tell her. He probably thought she would just up and leave as soon as the words left his mouth. But obviously she would do nothing of the sort. He was her husband, after all. One she still loved very much. Marianne wanted Jack to know that she was happy he told her. She remembered placing her hand on his knee lovingly as he tearfully confessed what he had bottled up for so long. 

That’s not to say she wasn’t a little taken aback, though. It’s not every day your husband tells you he’s been sneaking off to play with his penis inside a pair of Pampers. She certainly had her questions: how it started, when it came about, and any other girlfriends he may have told. 

He mentioned a girl in college that he had gotten the nerve to confess to. She apparently laughed her way out the door and he never saw her again. So it was understandable to Marianne why Jack had taken so long to tell her: he was worried she would do the same. 

But Marianne–like most wives in a happy marriage–wanted to please her husband. She can still remember how much he was shaking from being so turned on when she first wrapped that pair of AB Cushies around his leaking, throbbing cock. The pheromones coming off of him were almost tangible, and she even found herself getting a little turned on by how much it was fulfilling his desires. 

But alas, once the diaper was on, she was at a loss. What was she supposed to do now? She knew Jack liked her to be dominant. But it’s not like she could very well spank him while he had a diaper on. She was never great at the dirty talking thing, no matter how hard she tried, and she wasn’t sure she could stomach changing a grown man’s dirty diaper. Sex was pretty much off the table as well. Jack wasn’t the smallest, but he wasn’t the biggest either, so it’s not like his dick could really stick out of the diaper enough to do anything with. She was at a loss. She was fine with putting him in diapers, but she didn’t know what to do once the diapers were on. 

So she turned to porn. She tried finding videos to give her ideas, any little tips she could get on how to properly engage with him the way he wanted. But her research yielded very little. She found out the hard way that there was a surprisingly barren amount of Adult Diaper porn on the web. Or, at least, she wasn’t the best at finding it. Apparently a Tumblr wide purge of ‘explicit content’ didn’t help………………….

She didn’t want to turn to her girlfriends for help. She didn’t think it was her place to air her husband’s dirty laundry (or diapers) to the public. But, one night over drinks, her friend Cathy was talking about her daughter who was now in college, and that’s when she heard about the program. 

“She’s majoring in ABCD.”

“Like…the alphabet?” Her other friend Erica asked with a mixture of incredulity and amusement. 

They all laughed, but Cathy explained, “Apparently they teach them how to deal with those guys that are in diapers. I was a bit skeptical at first, but it turns out there are a lot of job opportunities that come with it.”

“So what does she want to do?” Erica asked. 

Cathy shrugged, “She wants to be a ‘Betasitter’. Supposedly these rich couples or wives will hire her to…take care of their husband while the wife goes off with another man. Something about ‘cuckolding’ or something like that…” Cathy sighed and shrugged exasperatedly. “I don’t really get it, but it’s something she’s really passionate about, so I guess all I can do is support her.”

Marianne sipped her wine silently, but her interest was piqued. The very next day she was Googling the program and getting details on the specifics. Still a bit unsure, she decided to talk to one of the counselors. 

“Yes, the Betasitting class will still be great for you. They will provide you with lots of resources and ideas to use on your husband, it will also open up more opportunities for you down the road if you want to explore it further,” the counselor explained. 

Marianne was skeptical, but ever since finding out about Jack’s fetish, she realized she wasn’t participating in it as much as he probably liked. After the initial fun of it, her anxiety took over, making it feel uncomfortable for her any time it was brought up. Not that there was anything wrong with the diapers themselves, it was mostly how uneasy she was in the dominant “diaper domme” role. 

So she enrolled, and that’s how she ended up here, in the ABCD building, trying to get the nerve to enter the classroom. 

She watched as flock after flock of 18-24 year old girls entered the room. Feelings of regret and anxiety rising to the surface. What would they think of someone her age taking a class like this? 

Finally she came to the realization that she didn’t care. She was doing this for her husband, for her marriage. She took a deep breath, clutched her books and readjusted the bag on her shoulder, grabbed the handle of the door, and entered. 

The room was a little bigger than your typical classroom. It had auditorium-like seating and rows that ramped downwards to the front of the class. Marianne felt like all eyes were upon her as she entered, even if they weren’t. 

She found a seat towards the back of the room, then looked around and thought better of it. She needed to be able to see the board. She gathered her things again awkwardly and moved up a few rows. Girls were still filing in, and Marianne tensed as she heard some sit down in the row behind her. 

“Originally I was in Early Childcare,” one girl said to the others, “I wanted to work with toddlers at a Daycare. Turns out, I much prefer working with Adults and treating them like toddlers. Still the same dirty diapers and tantrums, but at least with adults you know what they want...and you can tease them for it!”

They all laughed and must have nodded in agreement. 

“I’ve already got a job lined up” said another, “$1200 a week to betasit some rich loser that was caught cheating on his wife! She left him for another man, but still wants him in diapers 24/7. She’s gonna use his money to pay me as soon as I get my degree!”

Marianne’s eyes widened at that. Even with her business degree and healthy job she wasn’t making that good of money. 

“Is someone sitting here?”

Marianne looked up to see a young, beautiful blonde girl. Her stomach tried to escape through her throat when she realized who it was: Claire, the daughter Cathy was ranting about over drinks. The one who ultimately let her know about the ABCD program. 

Claire obviously recognized her too. There was that small, awkward moment of recognition before general social norms kicked in. 

“Oh my god! Marianne! Hi! How are you?” Claire asked as she sat down, it would be too weird for her to take off and find another seat now. Marianne reciprocated the uncomfortable exchange of “I'm good! How are you?” Before the conversation descended into silence. 

“So…” Claire finally said after what felt like ages, “why are you…taking this class?”

The elephant in the room was staring them in the face. Claire obviously knew Marianne’s husband Jack. But she didn’t want to out him in front of her and all these girls. So she said the first thing that came to mind: “I'm interested in the…business side of things.”

Claire nodded with narrow eyes, probably in disbelief, but she didn’t press further. 

Luckily, Marianne was saved from any further discomfort by the door opening at the front of the room. 

A woman in her mid-forties strode in, a couple years Marianne’s junior. Her salt and pepper hair tied up in a tight bun. Black, horn-rimmed glasses, fiery red lipstick, and a sharp jawline that jutted in the air as her pumps clanked on the floor rhythmically, like a Judge using their gavel to command order in the room. 

There was a sharp, collective intake of breaths as conversations ceased and pencils and notebooks were taken out. 

“Good afternoon, everyone!” the Professor announced with a sleek smile. Every girl in the room, including Marianne, replied back in unison “Good afternoon, Professor Peterson!”

“I trust you all have your essay on Yankevitz’s Psychology of Age Regressive Therapy, so please take those out, and pass them down the line if you will.”

Marianne gulped. There was a clamor of rustling papers as the women took their printed or handwritten sheets and passed them down the row for the T.A.’s to pick up. Marianne had worried she’d be behind on assignments after signing up for the class two weeks late. Hell, even 20 years after her first bout of college life, she still had recurring nightmares of showing up to Calculus 17 and not realizing there was a final she hadn’t studied for. The anxiety associated with being a full-time college student suddenly came rushing back to her. 

“We have a special lesson lined up for you today, it will be your first real ‘lab’ demonstration of this course.” Professor Peterson announced, she opened both arms wide and like clockwork the side doors on either side of the room opened. T.A.'s on both ends came in wheeling what looked like hospital beds into the room. 

The girls all gasped in excitement, apparently seeing something Marianne couldn’t. When the lady sitting in front of her finally hunched back down again to gleam excitedly at her neighbor, Marianne finally caught a glimpse of what everyone was ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ about.

Inside the bars of each bed, there was a college boy squirming underneath a blanket. 

******************************************************

“If you’ll all carefully make your way down so we can begin our demonstrations…” the Professor began, but the girls needed no further instruction. They already had their books and bags over their shoulders and were clambering down the stairs towards the blanketed boys. All 50 girls in the auditorium-like room were divided into groups among the 5 beds respective to their seated section. That meant Claire was in the same group as Marianne.

The 10 or so girls in the group circled around the crib-like bed. The boy inside was old enough to be Marianne’s son. He was around 20-22 years old. Further inspection yielded that the boy was, in fact, tied to the bed. His ankles and wrists strapped down with hospital restraints. He made a pathetic attempt to squirm and escape from under the bed sheet as the girls oggled and giggled. 

“Now, as you can see, you each have a Betaboi in front of you.” Professor Peterson called over the groups, “Notice their less than prominent jawline, their lack of much body/facial hair, their high-pitched whimpers, and their cowering nature.”

The girls nodded their heads in agreement. Marianne couldn’t help but see the same resemblance in her husband Jack. 

“Now, if you’d all be so kind as to remove the sheet, so we can see our Betabois in their appropriate attire…”

The girls all clapped their hands in excited glee, rushing to be the first to grab the hem of the sheet. Marianne seemed to be the only one interested in being a mere spectator. She watched as the girls looked around, nodded, and withdrew the sheet at the same time like a magician revealing their prestige. 

The bound boy clenched his legs as the sheet was removed, like that would do anything to hide the large disposable white diaper taped around his waist. The crowd of girls erupted in laughter and awes. The boy’s cheeks flushed a dark shade of pink. 

“As you learned from your reading last week, it is very important to emphasize the Beta’s attire. Remind them of their place, and that the diaper is necessary for their development.”

There was a chorus of chastising comments coming from each of the girls. 

“Awww!! Wook at the wittle beta baby in his diapurr!!”

“Aren’t you just the cutest?!”

“Look at the little loser in his Luvs!!”

“Don’t you wish you could use the big boy potty like an Alpha?”

The boy winced at every mocking remark as if they were lashes from a whip. He cringed and pulled pathetically on the straps. Marianne tried to jot down some of the things the girls were saying to remember them for later, but there was too much to keep up with. 

“Awww!! He went pee pee in his Pampers!!”

Marianne wasn’t sure if the boy’s diaper was wet beforehand, but it certainly was now. There was no mistaking the yellow tint forming in the front, and the big blue wetness indicator showing prominently down the middle. 

As if on queue, Professor Peterson continued with her lecture. “After you have properly acknowledged their attire, it’s time to focus on the state of their attire. Be sure to comment on any observations you see about it. Poke, prod, and question them about it. You can even have them talk about their situation. Remember: verbalization is one of the highest forms of humiliation.”

Again there was a slew of comments slung at the poor boy. 

“Did the wittle baby wet his diapy?”

“Beta baby went piddles in his diddles!!”

“The only wet thing your wittle clitty ever gets to touch!”

“Tell us what you did in your diaper, beta!”

The boy looked to be on the verge of tears. He screwed up his face and his bottom lip was quivering as he spoke in the most pathetic high-pitched voice “I…i went tee tee in my diapy…” The gathering girls erupted into laughter.

The boy tried to wipe his misty eyes on his shoulder, but the straps left him quite immobile. 

Marianne leaned over to the girl standing next to her. “Don’t you think this is a little…harsh?”

The girl’s face was bewildered. “What…him? Oh please! Don’t let those crocodile tears fool you! He is loving this! All of them are. In fact, they sign up for this!”

“Look! He’s hard!” one girl exclaimed as the girls leaned in to observe. 

“Awwww!!” They cooed. Pointing and laughing. 

“His wittle pee pee is poking inside his Pampurrs!!”

Marianne didn’t believe it was possible with how ashamed the boy seemed, but sure enough, there was a very noticeable bulge forming at the front of the swollen, sodden diaper. 

“And that brings us to our first demonstration!” Professor Peterson announced. “If I can have one volunteer at each station to perform a diaper change.”

Almost every hand shot in the air. Marianne chose to sit this one out. She was so overwhelmed by all the new experiences, the last thing she wanted to do was put her inexperience at the forefront of everyone’s attention. 

Mrs. Peterson went down the groups, choosing one girl seemingly at random. The girls not chosen groaned in jealousy, with the selected student grinning wickedly. 

When the Professor got to Marianne’s group, she pointed across the way. “Yes!!” Claire exclaimed excitedly when she realized she was picked. 

The rest of the girls groaned in disappointment, but parted ways and allowed Claire to clamber onto the bed and take her place between the beta’s legs. 

The boy squirmed and writhed at his bonds. Marianne wasn’t sure if he was pretending to be in distress, or trying to rearrange his bulging member inside his diaper. Either way, the onlookers found it hilarious. 

Claire looked a little more unsure now that she shared the center of attention, but she took a deep breath to calm her nerves. 

“First thing we want to do,” the Professor began, strolling back and forth amongst the groups, “Is administer the pacifier. This will immediately drop the beta into subspace. It is hard for them to argue or complain when they have something in their mouth, and it reinforces their regression.”

One of the girls in Claire’s group pulled out what looked to be a glasses case. Instead, when she popped it open, it was actually a very large pacifier. But instead of having a rubber nipple, it was an elongated rubber penis. Claire chuckled as she took the paci from the spectator, thanked her,  and pressed it to the beta’s lips. Marianne expected the boy to put up more of a fight, considering how humiliating and patronizing it must have been, but instead the boy opened his mouth and accepted the penis paci down his mouth without hesitation. Almost eagerly, in fact.

“After you have adequately administered verbal degradation and provided them with a paci, it is time to remove the diaper.” Peterson declared. “Make sure to place a firm palm at the front, between the decorative banner of the diaper and the blue indicator. You should feel their stiffness through the padding. You want to press this area so that they can feel the wet padding against their stiffy. This establishes dominance, provides slight stimulation, and gives you a solid grip to begin pulling off the fastening tapes. They can be a little stickier than normal baby diapers.”

Claire followed the instructions to a T. Smirking when the beta whimpered underneath her firm hand as she removed the tapes one at a time with a tssskk!

“Remember to take a deep breath before opening the diaper! I realize your babies aren’t messy at the moment. But it’s a good habit to get into. The fresh batch of air will save you from gagging more often than not.”

Clair pulled the front of the soaked diaper open, exposing the beta’s bits to the surrounding air. Some of the girls had to turn away, covering their mouths. Not out of disgust, but out of hilarity at the little 3 inch pecker pointing straight up in the air. 

“I always forget how tiny they can be!”

“That can’t be as big as it gets…can it?!”

“It amazes me that some of them think they deserve anything other than a diaper!!”

The beta had a fresh flush of blood rush to his cheeks. He tried to hide his face, but again the bonds kept him bound and exposed. 

“If you will take out your supply bags, you can begin the changing process…”

Claire looked around for help. In her excitement to get on the bed with the beta, she’d left her bag on the floor in the circle of girls. Marianne reached down and grabbed the infantile looking diaper bag. Claire side-eyed and shrugged innocently as Marianne handed it to her. It was a bit awkward for them both, but with everything going on, it paled in comparison. 

Claire set the bag on the bed next to her. Fishing for a package of wipes. She took them out and removed three from the container, which crinkled more than the beta’s diaper did. 

“Remember, take your time. You can never get them ‘too’ clean. Every little bit of stimulation gets them that much more desperate. Either for you or for the wife that is off having her own bit of fun.”

Claire laid the cold wipe across her palm and placed it against the boy’s inner thigh. He gasped, perhaps from the chill or from the anticipation. Claire slowly ran her hand up, closer to the beta’s bobbing balls, but stopped. Jumping over the area with the wipe and continuing to the other thigh. 

The boy’s breathing changed considerably, the head of his cock was swelling, his eyes were desperate. The other girls teased and pinched his nipples and cheeks, making him squirm even more from the intense stimulation. 

Finally, Claire laid a new wipe over his pulsing pecker. Making it resemble an actual tent, or a tiny little ghost. The girls giggled at the ridiculous display. Claire smiled before using her whole palm to twist and turn the wipe around the boy’s cock. Making it more painful than pleasurable. 

“Now, if the beta is uncaged, I always recommend a proper edging session.” Peterson professed as she strode back and forth amongst the groups, “Again, we want them as sexually frustrated as possible. It will make their eagerness to please and their obedience levels skyrocket. So if you will all carefully take your subject’s privates in your hand…”

Claire glanced over at Marianne. Neither of them really wanted to witness this in front of each other. Marianne had watched her friend’s daughter grow from a young age to the beautiful woman she is now. It was a bit abnormal to see her grasping another “man’s” penis right in front of her. 

“It is very important that you watch the beta’s visual cues during this portion of the change. As you know, betas have a very difficult time controlling themselves. We do NOT want them to achieve release, we just want them right up to the edge. Hence the term ‘edging’”

Claire looked down at the helpless subject before her as she applied liberal amounts of lotion to her hands.  Smiling at the obvious hold she had over him. Every single girl in this room with the exception of Marianne was here because they enjoyed that sense of power over those they found weak. Claire reached out her hand and grasped the beta’s already leaking member. Though, it was so small she couldn’t even palm it. Her hand ended up making the whole thing disappear. 

“Remember, you don’t have to use your whole hand. In fact, you only need to use two fingers! This will further emphasize the inadequacy of their equipment. Simply make a ring with your fingers, or a small gap between your thumb and index...”

Claire followed the Professor’s instructions, making a small circle with her hand and putting it into the air just above the head of his twitching clitty. 

The beta whimpered behind his pacifier. Raising his hips up and trying to poke his way between the tiny ring Claire had made for him. He managed to make the head slide through, but only for a bit. Falling back down on the bed and onto his used diaper. He grunted again as he summoned the strength to flex his abs and raise his hips again, pathetically humping at Claire’s stationary hand. 

“Good job, Claire!” Professor Peterson cheered, “As you can see, Claire here is letting the beta do almost all of the work, another great way to establish dominance and have the change go on your own terms. Always work smarter, not harder!”

The poor boy was practically pleading with his eyes. Sucking on his oversized paci with frantic intensity. His thrusts into her lubed up palm were eager and anxious. Like he hadn’t had relief for weeks. 

“Pay attention to the signs…” Peterson reminded, “See how his toes are curling? Perspiration building around the chest and temple? He’s close, when he starts to gasp, pull away.”

It was like the Professor was a fortune teller. Within seconds, the beta boy was whimpering and clenching and several quick, short, gasps later…Claire stopped. Opening her fingers just enough so that all the wiggly worm of the beta could feel was a cold breeze.  An almost angry grunt escaped around the paci in the frustrated beta’s mouth. 

“Awww!!!” The girls around the bed teased, “Somewon’s getting fussy and fwustwated!!”

There was an explosion of laughter, followed by shouts and jeers from the group next to them. 

“Professor Peters!! Someone had an accident…” they called. The older woman rushed to other group to assess the situation. Turns out the other girl was not as successful in edging her beta, as evidenced by the massive load of sticky juices covering both the kneeling student and the naked boy beneath her.

“Seems like we waited a bit too long to withdraw the stimulation. That’s okay! I won’t dock you points as you are still learning, just make sure you learn what you did wrong and what this particular beta’s tells were. Everyone has their little ticks that give them away, and sometimes it’s just a matter of learning each individual. However, if they do begin to ejaculate, ALWAYS remove your hand as soon as possible. The lack of stimulation at this precarious time will result in what is known as a ‘ruined orgasm’. It provides some of the relief the sub desperately wants, but without the associated pleasure of a full orgasm. Not to worry, dear. We’ll get ‘em next time! But just be aware that your future clients may not take lightly to having their husband’s achieve any sort of release. So keep that in mind.”

The girl seemed embarrassed as Peterson walked away without another word, the group of girls around her and the spent beta put a consoling hand on her shoulder.

Claire now seemed even more determined to do it right. Edging the beta 5 more times until his balls were noticeably swollen and aching. The poor beta could probably be heard across campus if it weren’t for the penis paci muffling his sobs.

“If you have made it this far into the edging session, give yourself a pat on the back!” Professor Peterson declared, the girls around Claire and one other group clapped and cheered. 

“The next part is where their preference sheet comes in,” Peterson continued after the room quieted down, “Again, every client is different, but some will have the box checked that allows for optional or even mandatory ‘milkings’. The wife or caretaker of the beta will often be specific as to how the milking can be administered, but I’ll show you one of my favorite ways: a procedure known as ‘milking the prostate’.”

Half of the room gasped, the other half looked around bewildered.

Peterson clicked the device in her hand, and a Powerpoint presentation detailing the specifics of the male ‘g-spot’, also known as the prostate, appeared on the screen. Through a series of slides the Professor explained that one of the best ways to stimulate this area is by using two fingers inserted into the rectum of the beta.

“It will be about the size of walnut, though some studies have shown that betas tend to exhibit a much larger sized prostate, which is why a lot of them are more prone to enjoying anal activity. Simply insert the lubricated fingers, point upwards just behind where the base of the penis is, and press lightly.”

Claire followed along with the Professor’s presentation by practicing on the beta in front of her. She put on a latex glove, lubed up her fingers with more lotion, pressed her palm against the pelvis of the boy, reached between his legs, found the hole, and pressed inwards.

Marianne will never forget the sound the beta made as Claire entered him. She was always hesitant to try things like this with Jack, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to hear those same sounds come from him.

The beta’s breathing was much more measured now. Like he wasn’t excited, but wasn’t being tortured either. One of the girl’s stroked his hair while another whispered in his ear to relax and ‘take it like a good boi’.

“OoooOOoohhh” the boy cooed as Claire worked her fingers inside him.

“That’s it, Claire!” Peterson encouraged, “right there! That’s the sound we want. Do you feel the walnut?”

Claire nodded and screwed her face up in concentration. Biting her bottom lip as she worked her hand and fingers back and forth inside him. 

The beta was moaning now. Like he was experiencing the most intense pleasure he ever felt. Claire had to use her other hand to hold him still while she worked her fingers in and out of him. 

“He’s close. Finish the job.” Peterson prodded, and Claire obliged.

The beta was rocking up and down on the bed, tugging at his bonds, moaning pathetically.

“Yes! Yesss! Yess!! I’m gonnNna..”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence, the puny penis pulsed and a projectile of semen shot into the air, then more oozed down the shaft and dribbled down his balls.

The crowd gasped and clapped. Even Marianne threw her notebook under her armpit and joined in the applause. 

“Well done, Claire!” Professor Peterson commended, “you have a bright future ahead of you!”

Claire smiled sheepishly as she pulled out several more wipes and began cleaning up the beta’s baby batter. 

“We are almost out of time,” Peterson announced, checking her watch, “so let’s all take out a fresh diaper and learn how to properly prepare it for application.”

Every girl in the room reached into their bags and pulled out a large, fluffy diaper of varying colors and designs. Except for Marianne, who must have missed it on the supply list. 

“Do you mind if I borrow…” Marianne asked the girl next to her. She smiled sweetly and obliged by handing her a pink, princess diaper with unicorns and flowers all over it. It was a bit of a strange design, she thought. Weren’t the people that wore diapers this size mostly males?

“It is very important when you have a new diaper to do what I call the ‘Fluffing Technique’” Peterson instructed, using a diaper of her own as a demonstration. “Most of them come vacuum or hermetically sealed, and they lose most of their volume. We obviously don’t want a flat, puny diaper, we want big, bulky diapers that force the wearer to waddle. So in order to fluff it up, simply open it up, and fold it down the middle, ‘hotdog style’ like this…”

She held the diaper aloft so all could see and follow along. 

“This begins the aeration process and creates a sort of channel for the messes to travel, helping to ensure you don’t have as many leaks. Once you have that crease, grab it on both the edges and wriggle it back and forth like this, almost like you’re activating a disposable heating pad.”

There was a cacophony of crinkles as the 50 women shook the sides of the diapers back and forth. 

“We are fluffing up the inner material and letting those layers breathe. Again, ensuring that we’re adding bulk and reaching peak absorbency. Your clients will thank you for going through less diapers, and for making their hubby’s look even cuter!!”

There were murmurs of agreement and awes. Even comparisons between the girls as to who got their diaper the fluffiest. 

“Now take those diapers home with you and practice applying them to a stuffed animal, your boyfriend, or anyone you can! That concludes today’s session! Have a great day!”

The auditorium rumbled as the girls grabbed their things and filed out. The betas in the beds were wheeled out by the T.A.’s. 

Marianne waited behind, stuffing the pink diaper into her bag that the girl graciously let her have. 

“Excuse me, Professor Peterson?” Marianne asked, approaching the desk where her teacher was rounding up her things. 

“Yes dear?” She said, without looking up at first. When her eyes rose to see the speaker for the first time, there was a look of recognition and sympathy in them. 

“My name is Marianne Olsen and I…I just wanted to say thanks for the lesson today. I’m sorry I didn’t get that paper in, and didn’t have my supplies b-but I—“

“How old are you, if you don’t mind my asking?” Peterson asked. 

Marianne was a bit taken back by the question. ”F-fifty-two” she answered, feeling self conscious again. 

Peterson smiled, nodded and removed her glasses. 

“And why are you here?”

“I…well my uh…my husband has an…ummm—“

“A diaper fetish.” Peterson finished for her without even blinking.  

“Yes.”

The Professor stared at her for a long while, then smiled. “I admire you, Mrs. Olsen” she finally said. 

“I…you do?”

Peterson smiled again “Yes. Few women, especially your age (no offense) would be willing to put forth the effort to accommodate for what is often seen as a very taboo and misunderstood fetish. Most women would run, but you stayed. Not only that, you signed up for a class to better understand and provide for your husband. I deeply admire that.”

Marianne’s eyes started misting. She had been so unsure about this whole thing and, up until that very moment, felt like it was all a mistake. 

“The world is changing, Marianne.” Peterson continued, “People are not only seeing diapers as a fetish anymore, but also as a very effective method of punishment, control, humiliation, and therapy. There are going to be many business and recreational opportunities in this field in the not so distant future, and I really hope you will see this class as more of a stepping stone rather than just a way to help get your husband off.”

“I…I guess I never considered—“

“You’re a powerful woman with a good head on her shoulders and the desire to learn and please. I am confident you will get more out of this class than you ever thought possible.”

“Thank you, Professor Peterson.”

“No, thank you. But in the interest of being consistent with all my students, I am going to need your essay by the end of the week.”

“Consider it done, ma’am!”

*******

By the time she got home, Marianne was exhausted. She placed her bag on the coat rack, went to the fridge to grab a bottle of wine, and sighed exasperatedly as she sat next to Jack on the couch. 

“Hi honey,” Jack said, “how was class?”

“It was good,” she said as she poured herself a glass of Cabernet, “Now go get your diapers and bring them to me. Then take off your clothes. I have some...studying to do!”

To Be Continued

Click HERE to read Chapter 2!!

[harmoonix]

♕ Mysterious Placements in your birth chart ♕

Oh, who is she?

♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕♕

➻ Sun/Moon in the 8th house/Moon in Scorpio or Moon/Sun at Scorpio Degrees (8°, 20°) are born with this mistery aura in them, they are secretive and savage in the same time

➻ Venus/Pluto/Mars in the 8th house or Scorpio, they are having this "Who are they" aura in them, everytime they make contact with someone, it will always bring their attention

➻ Venus conjunct/sextile/trine - Pluto = Not only misterious but tend to radiate some sexual and intimidating energy aswell. Very powerful placements when it comes to transformations

➻ Mercury conjunct/opposition/square Pluto, they are so intelligent and they can have this type of "dark mind" ans "dark thoughts", their voice aswell might be very attractive/sensual

➻ Jupiter conjunct/sextile/trine Moon - This might be an very underatted placement when it comes to being misterious but the truth is they can be very misterious when they make contact with people and when they met someone new, that person is always gonna have that impression of "I wanna know more about them"

➻ Lilith conjunct/square/opposition the ascendant can have this mistery aura inside them aswell, giving this "Shadows embrace" kind of mood

➻ Lilith conjunct/square/opposition Sun makes the native rebellious and secretive aswell as making them this "misunderstood" feeling and even judged sometimes. They have pretty misterious eyes

➻ Sun in Capricorn/Sun at Capricorn Degrees (10°,22°), Capricorns were always giving this vibe of "darkness and boldness" they are represented by the Ying element which is darkness and it makes sense so much. Capricorns are witchy aesthetic

➻ Moon in the 9th house is another indicator for underatted mysterious placements, they repsent the ancient/magic/past/history so many things that imply being seen as someone with a very mysterious flair

➻ Uranus or Neptune in the 12th house => Pretty mysterious when it comes to making a first impression, they can be connected spiritually and having this empath energy around them

➻ Mars in Sagittarius are very rebel and having this "rebellious" nature makes them to be seen as a mystery, they are having such a good personality

➻ Pluto in Sagittarius Generation [ 1996 - 2009 ] they change the worlds perspective, giving freedom to people and making them to be more spiritual than before, gives them really flair of mystery, when they want to change something they will do that. This generation is spiritual awaken

➻ Lilith in the 1st house can embody Lilith's traits pretty much and be seen as a mystery to people especially to men (no matter the gender), they can also be seen as someone very different

➻ Lilith in the 6th house is a very intense house to have Lilith in, because Lilith the dark divine meets with Virgo which is light divine, and they both create an mix of darkness and light

➻ Lilith in the 8th house can act pretty mysterious as they enter in a room everyone's eyes can switch on them

➻ Lilith in the 12th house is another underatted placement when it comes to mystery, they are having a very different vibe when they are near you and makes you wonder "What's with them"?

➻ Asteroid Hekate [100] in the 1st house/aspecting the ascendant, well this is Indeed the mystery itself, you are seen as a mystery and someone who can be a threat for some people

➻ Asteroid Hekate [100] in the 8th house are very intuitive when it comes to secrets and truth's they will always come to light, no one can lie to them

➻ Asteroid Hekate [100] in the 9th/12th houses are spiritual gifts, they can know so many things and been seen as someone very wise since a young age, a mystery surrounding

➻ Asteroid Hekate [100] conjunct/trine/sextile Moon=> very intuitive and in touch with everything that is around them is like they have the 3rd eye 👁️ open

➻ Asteroid Hekate [100] aspecting the North Node, embrace your own shadows and learn to stand for your power because this indeed is a very powerful placement, you are intuitive and creative use this tools in your life to feel better

➻ Moon conjunct/sextile/trine Pluto - gives the native this flawless energy of mystery. They are good at keeping others people secrets and can have a very dark humour

➻ Moon square/opposition/ Pluto is almost the same as the aspect above just more intense creating an sense of insecurities including jealousy and envy from other people. Dealing with people who have problems with you

➻ Neptune conjunct/sextile/trine Moon - Well this aspect is kind of mysterious as a siren song, they have a certain side of them who secretly wants to keep in the shadows and away from people

➻ Sun in the 12th house/Sun in Pisces - This placement is well known for being mysterious as being the "child of the universe", they carry with them this energy and got attention without them knowing why, is also an very empath placement

➻ Placements List of placements who are well known being seen as mysterious (already)

Scorpio Rising/Rising at 8°, 20° degrees

Aquarius Rising/Rising at 11°, 23° degrees

Capricorn Rising/Rising at 10°, 22° degrees

Pisces Rising/Rising at 12°, 24° degrees

Lilith aspecting the MC (Midhaven)

Lilith aspecting Neptune

Virgo Degrees on your planets (6°, 18°)

Jupiter in Leo

Jupiter in Scorpio

Jupiter in Libra

Jupiter in Virgo

Uranus in the 1st/2nd houses/7th houses

Pluto in the 10th/11th houses

➻ Having Pluto prominent in your chart gives you this baddie vibes, badass and mysterious someone with a very dark humour

➻ Having Moon prominent in your chart gives this "Moon child" appearance, someone with extremely beautiful eyes and you know how they say "Eyes never lie" 👀

➻ Having Saturn prominent in your chart gives "Boss is here" vibes, someone very admirable and respectable by the people

💋 The vibe is this post gives is so 🌃 Coquette and elegant 🌃 I love it honestly is such an mood

💋 May everyone who reads my notes have a good day with a good energy and good mood, and never forget to love yourself the most 💋

💋 H a r m o o n i x 💋

Harmoonix2023®

[captainuranium543]

Thing I've noticed about the Fairy tail fandom misogyny problem (I'm about to sound like such a nerd)

Not to be the loser of the year but the easiest way to see the bad treatment of women in the ft fandom is by imagining what would happen if you swapped the genders of gray and erza.

As we all know gray has a running gag of taking off his clothes, however while people clown on him for this it's also well known and obvious that he is more than that. He has depth and character beyond just that gag. In the more recent 100 year quest he really hasn't done that much by comparison to natsu Lucy erza or even Wendy. This has been (reasonably) upsetting to some fans arguing that he deserves better. I agree with this but I need you to imagine what the reaction would be if he was a women because it would be a completely different story.

If gray was a character who didn't get a lot of development and was always taking off his clothes as a women people would not be saying he deserves better then would be absolutely dog piling this dude calling him useless and fanservice only completely ignoring all his previous development.

How do I know this? Because that is literally what happened to Lucy. Back in the 2010s people WOULD NOT GET OFF HER ASS. people were constantly calling her useless (completely ignoring the fact that she's a brand new wizard being compared to guys who've been doing this since before puberty and NO SHIT SHES NOT THAT GOOD YET. THATS WHERE THE DEVELOPMENT COMES IN). It made sense for Lucy to be weaker than the others she was brand new to this and that was literally the point of her entire story to watch her grow as a wizard and become more independent and powerful. In some instances Lucy was written to be a damsel in distress character but rather then looking at her as an obvious victim of bad writing it was treated like it was somehow her fault. Gray and Lucy are very similar characters but gray is treated far more favorably right now than Lucy ever was back in the early days.

As for erza, people cannot stop calling her a plot armor character. All I see online is none stop hating, some people even claiming it's worse than natsu. The things is, to a degree they are right erza does have plot armor, the issue is that so does literally everyone else. As much as you don't want to accept it erza fights more so it's more noticeable with her but every single fairy tail fight outside of a few will have an element of plot armor ESPECIALLY for natsu.

The issue I have isn't that people are wrong it's that they completely ignore the fact erza is literally only being treated the same way male anime characters have been since the dawn of time but now suddenly it's a problem. Being overpowered and winning by punching things harder is fine as long as you're a dude ig.

It's even worse when people argue she's a Mary Sue because she objectively isn't. She not only has so many flaws that come to mind easily, she had probably one of the strongest character arcs I've ever seen. She's gone through more character development then 99% of the cast the only problem is that it happened very early and afterward Hiro didn't really know what to do with her.

That being said, even if she had no character arc at all I STILL WOULDN'T SAY SHES A MARY SUE. BECAUSE A MARY SUE IS A CHARACTER WITH NO FLAWS. AND NOBODY IN THIS SHOW IS MORE FLAWED THEN ERZA IS. I've heard people argue that all her flaws are comedic and, ignoring the fact this is just not true she has plenty of flaws that are genuine problems she needs to grow from (ie galuna island, tower of heaven and edolas), who cares if they are comedic? Natsu is also a very flawed person and has not had to change even a fraction of the amount Erza has and does that make him a Mary Sue? No. Do I still love him? Absolutely, he's funny as hell.

This post was not made to complain about gray or natsu btw Its not that I think they're useless or Mary sues I just don't think any of these characters are at all and I think people who do think that should all explode. Anyway this is just what I think feel free to disagree but don't try to argue with me because nobody is changing my mind on this one.

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

Hello! I always have daddy issue so could I ask for a masculine and silver daddy? Instead of turning into one I want to be turned into a loyal son inheriting daddy's characteristics and being more like him.

You said you want to inherit his characteristics. Well I think I can do that. I can even go a step further.

You wake up in a hospital bed with your face wrapped I. Bandages. A deep voice can be heard as he’s talking to what you find to be a nurse. You begin to stir and that’s when they notice you. The nurse comes to you and begins to remove the bandages and when she is done she gasps. “Never have I seen such a perfect outcome”. She holds her hand over her mouth and the man with the deep voice laughs “well he is my son after all!” The man is handsome. A silver fox of a man and he is grinning widely. He holds up a mirror and to your shock you look exactly like him. Only younger. This was phase 1.

When the nurse left your father told you how proud he was that you did this. Having surgery to make sure looked exactly like your old man. “Now we can really begin to share everything”. It wasn’t long before you were discharged and you fell into your new routine. You shared everything with your father. Clothes, shoes. Everything. He even had your birthday changed to his minus the 20 year age gap. Everything he did. You did. It’s not even long before you are both confused for each other since you look like the younger version of him now. Every so often you have to go for a routine alteration. Your father wanted you to be as much like him as humanly possible. Even if it meant having injections in your groin to plump things up just like he did several years ago. Now with both of you having your underwear off no one could tell a difference. Even the tattoos that adorned his body you soon got as well.

You both went to the gym and interchange clothes. You’re used to wearing sweaty clothes and wearing sweaty shoes now. Your father doesn’t like to wash them often and with you two sharing everything now you get used to it. The big surprise to you took take place when he gave you papers to sign. A few days later a new piece of mail came addressed to you and it was then official. You both now had the same name legally. You father grinned “your almost 100% me now son”. Even though it should have scared you how far he was willing to make sure you shared his characteristics it didn’t. Maybe it was the conditioning that you had been through making you know that you had to be like him in every way possible.

Then a day came where you dad met you in the kitchen shirtless.

“Son I think it’s time we go a step further. You have inherited all the traits I have. We share everything…” he explained how everything about you was a reflection of him. “The step further is a swap. You’re going to be me permanently and vice versa. Everything is already set in motion.” You didn’t know what we was talking about but as if a shift happened you were now staring at yourself. You and your degree shared everything. Clothes, looks, and now a body. He whipped out his phone. Took a picture. “Dad. This is going to be one hell of a ride. Take a look at your body now. We will share everything permanently now.”

[mecachrome]

hi! @ anon here is my lando accent infodump lmao:

so like landos accent is an ancient secret scientists worldwide have been spending centuries trying to analyse... but im gonna try to sum it up to the best of my abilities

his accent definitely changed with both private school AND international karting / single seaters but what complicates the matter is that his accent was weird to begin with

so using the reference clips k already picked out bc theyre actually rly good:

lando starts off (as far as we know, obvs by the time we have interviews of him he was already heavily involved in karting) with a weird accent

the main building blocks are definitely standard southern / londony working class. but there's also a distinct bristolian twang: notice the "foinal" and "mah mayn competition" and "jamie caroloine" lol (beloved). that bristolian twang is the first thing that goes away once he goes to secondary & is pretty much imperceptible today which is incredibly tragic to me

aside from all that is the weird foreign quality which has stayed in his accent to varying degrees over the years: these sort of flat, almost south african sounding vowels

part of it is 100% his mum & flemish roots. like, the reason i mention south africa specifically is bc i rmbr multiple ppl throwing it out as a guess, & it makes a lot of sense to me considering the dutch influence on the ZA accent. theres also his dyslexia, which often makes him trip over sounds / unsure of some pronounciations / simplify words in his head, and im almost certain that also contributes to his vague 'foreign' tinges

BUT if it was just those things it rly wouldnt explain why it fluctuated sm over the years. like we leave 11 year lando off sounding slightly european, but by the time we return to him at his formula 1 debut in 2019 i see ppl in the comments genuinely unconvinced that hes even british. he pronounces small 'i' sounds as long (think "a-nee-thing") and 'a' sounds flattened almost into 'e's (think "beck" instead of "back"). my reference for plotting where landos accent is at has always been how he says the name max (convenient that hes had by now 2 championship rivals and a best friend with that name) because at its most exagerrated it almost sounds like "mex"

i think what happened to get him to that point was like. as soon as private school flattened the regional twang his accent became even more absorbent than it had been before, and hanging out with so many international people brought out the european aspects of his own accent as well as had him borrow a few of their pronounciations

in 2019-2020 he was either living with sacha fenestraz (french-argentinian, has subtle and imo very charming argentinian accent) or alone & struggled to reconnect with old friends, bc of first the pressures of his rookie year and then the pandemic. this all changed massively in 2021 - at work he got an EFL teammate, at home he had max move in with him, in his social life he started hanging out more with tom bale and connor hughes and british youtube circles. 2021 is also when his accent solidified way more as 'standard southern' & i think it makes sense considering everything

nowadays his accent still varies & still carries some shades of his unique foreign pronounciations but it rests pretty consistently at 'standard southern'. what pushes it into different directions a bit is probably hanging out w garrix & other dutch ppl, as well as him adopting maxf's horrible little habit of mimicry which has him either pulling out the bankai bulgarian even out of context or, on the opposite side, placing the completely incongruous 'bunda' and 'man' into his vocabulary. OH and the even more baffling occasional brummie touches, also from maxf

tldr lando does have the ambiguous euro accent but its a bit more complicated than just spending time in international circles bc i think he is predisposed to speaking like that

as an addendum bc the english class police will come for me: by working class i just mean not posh

HLKSDFHLH kira this is such a dense text i don't even need to add anything!!! i've also seen people be like >WHY DOES HE SOUND SOUTH AFRICAN??? which mildly amuses me but yes all of this makes sense! and omg sacha's accent is sooo fun to me, i remember watching this interview where he talks about it (answering in spanish while his parents spoke to him in french 😭) and identifying as more argentinian than his sister etc. it was very charming. anw tl;dr as you put it i think a lot of it is just him and maxf possessing a natural inclination toward mimicry and a wide social circle LOL

[i-heart-hxh]

What if gon and killua and all the subtext r queerbait??do u think they might be

I've answered this kind of thing before, but why not do a refresher? I keep this image on my desktop for when someone doubts Togashi's intentions.

This was well before HxH was created, before even Yu Yu Hakusho was created. Note that he says he wanted to create this gay, crossdressing manga based on his own "personal interest" and that he grew "deeply attached" to it.

Togashi has noted himself to be a fan of Patalliro!, a BL series written by Mineo Maya--one of the few male BL authors, and Patalliro! was the first BL series to be adapted to anime. He has stated that Hiei's hair was inspired by a character from Patalliro!

Togashi has discussed enjoying putting "shojo manga elements" in his work as well. This can, and likely does, refer at least in part to all the gay subtext.

He put Sensui and Itsuki in Yu Yu Hakusho, who somewhat ambiguously seem to be in a romantic relationship. See this line:

He's even said Itsuki is one of his favorite characters in Yu Yu Hakusho.

He's also married to the Naoko Takeuchi, the creator of Sailor Moon, who famously has also included lesbian relationships in her manga.

Looking at how multifaceted and fully integrated into the characters themselves/the story the "hints" of romantic feelings between Gon and Killua are, I have trouble believing Togashi would just be doing this out of "queerbaiting," which is a complex topic in the first place when it comes to anime and manga, because the culture in Japan is different and the anime/manga industries have a long complicated history with queer themes.

He's grown up in a fairly conservative culture that has changed only gradually, and he has been working in decades in the most mainstream manga publication out there, which I'm certain has rules around what he can and can't portray (though the degree to which he's bound by those rules at this point is unknown). It makes sense, therefore, that he's accustomed to using subtext and ambiguity rather than portraying gay relationships in a way that is 100% undeniably canon. He's not writing for BL publications, after all.

To me, the romantic aspect of Gon and Killua's relationship feels very genuine and heartfelt. It's built into who the characters are and how they're set up as characters in the first place (like Killua's birthday, for instance), and what they mean to each other is one of the main emotional cores of the series. The way he weaves this concept into the series in many, many different ways has emotional weight and meaning. It does not feel at all like something he casually added as fanservice or for the hell of it as an afterthought. I think it's left ambiguous on purpose, but the repeated and sometimes quite blatant hints are there for those who want to connect the dots.

As time has gone by and I've read more of Togashi's own words and discussions of his influences as well as considering just how much queer subtext exists in the series (and not just with Gon and Killua by any means--Alluka, LeoPika, HisoIllu, PariGing, etc.) AND in his other series as well, it's only made me more and more certain that he includes all this stuff with full intention, and coming at least in a large part from his own personal desire to include these elements.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

ok here i go full hc prompt🥳🤩🤩

m6 in the ✨✋Future🤚✨ or at least to them, relatively, from their medievaissance-y mixed bag nonspecified time period to something resembling our times! i personally like to consider it still Their World, fictional, which just progressed to look like ours now (it literally makes zero difference to anybody except the inner machinations of my annoying ass but yeah ifykyk) basically yknow shooting a medieval peasant into 2023 & giving him mountain dew type beat

The Arcana HCs: M6 in the Future

~ @tetsuooooooooooo this was so much fun, thank you for sending it in and I hope you enjoy these!! ~

-- for headcanon purposes, MC is from the future and is tasked with taking care of M6 during their 24 hours there --

Julian

It takes him less than two minutes to figure out where (read: when) he is and his response is nothing short of enthusiastic

Please, he's been around the world, and he's got a delightful guide, and he really, really wants to know if his theories about leeches ended up being correct

He actually gets a little emotional when a quick google search shows him how wrong he was and you end up having to take him exploring to cheer him up and distract him from his failures

You have a really hard time explaining to him that clinics don't allow doctors without medical degrees to waltz in and observe random patients getting treatments

You take him to see a movie and he's transfixed

The screen is so big. The actor's faces are so clear. The drama is so much more than anything he could have imagined. And they come with music?? Hums the soundtrack for the rest of the day

If you show him that one version of Jurassic Park with Jeff Goldblum in it Julian will imitate him sporadically afterwards

Enjoys fast food way more than he should. Especially instant noodles. Will spend half an hour trying to pack some to take back

Fascinated by the concept of typing

You hit a button to make the next letter appear instead of writing it? But MC, this means that everything he wants to communicate through text could be easily readable. Imagine!

Freaks out a bit when you try to take him in a car. He's surprisingly comfortable in a metro, though, so you'll have to do with public transportation and bicycles

Oh yeah, he loves bicycles. He only crashed into three trees, a wall, and a stranger's parked car before getting the hang of it

He's convinced that earbuds don't actually play music, they just trick your brain into thinking that you can hear it

Almost exploded when you gave him coldbrew coffee

Asra

They know instantly that they're in a different version of reality. Sure, they've never traveled through time, but they've traveled through plenty of other dimensions

He's the least ruffled, and unfortunately, the least impressed. Don't get him wrong, this looks super cool, but this isn't any more otherworldly to him than the otherworldly places he's already been

Wants to go on a food tour immediately. Not the nice stuff though

No, they want the questionable food. The is-this-going-to-make-me-regret-existing food. The food that, if it was shown in an anime, would be pixelated and have threatening auras around it

So chill about what you tell him to do it's almost concerning

"Here Asra, climb into this four-wheeled hunk of metal that can travel over 100 miles an hour and hold yourself in with a single fabric strap while I pilot this through hundreds of other things just like it, driven by people we don't know and can't predict."

"Cool. Where do I put Faust?"

Don't tell them about edibles unless you want them to spend their day hunting some down and absolutely going to town on them

You swear you saw his hair stand on end the first time he tried popping candy

When you took them to get their radioactive meal (a.k.a. the closest fast food chain with the fewest ethical violations) they insisted on picking up one of every sauce packet to try them all

... and when he saw a nine-year-old mixing two different fountain drinks, he of course grabbed the largest cup available and went down the line so he could taste all of them at once too

You've never seen them this jittery and sugar high, so of course the next place to go is a trampoline park, with the bright lights and loud music and bodies hurtling through the air

He should not be getting the amount of air time that he does

Has a meltdown over modern fluffy blankets. They're so soft

Nadia

Gobsmacked. As in, she's a highly intelligent woman, and therefore able to really wrap her head around what she's seeing

The future!! She's in the future, Arcana help her

But she's got you and she adores you and she knows she can trust you so she's going to be okay. That said, start explaining. Now.

First things first: how's the infrastructure? She can't see any canals or aqueducts. Or fireplaces or lanterns, for that matter, what do you do for light? And cooking? (Cooking uses fire, right?)

Literally cannot walk past anything new without stopping to try to figure out how it works and if there's a way to recreate it herself

Bicycles on a rack? She's spinning the pedal and trying to figure out the balancing dynamics of two-wheeled movement

Almost lost it when she found out that it was possible to lift the hood of a car and look at the engine inside that makes it go. You decided to take her on public transportation instead

Which turned into all kinds of excited brainstorming about public carriages, and gondolas built for 20 people ferrying people along the aqueducts, and new and terrifying uses for the catacombs

Wasn't very impressed with the fashion she saw

She knows what good quality cloth looks like. This is a women who grew up in silks and fine linens, polyester does not impress her

Except for the stretchiness. She does like that

The perfume counter, on the other hand, takes up a good hour and a half of her time. She's smelled plenty of fine scents before, but she's never been in a shop where she could sniff so many at a time

This one smells like Prakra. This one smells like Vesuvia. This one smells like the beach. This one smells like the woods. This one ...

Yeah, it was an excellent opportunity to take a nap, if you're the napping sort. You wake up to her testing perfumes on you because she ran out of space on herself

Gets so frustrated when you explain your government setup to her

Muriel

Oh no, please be very gentle with him

He likes to live in the woods because it is peaceful and quiet and it's one place he doesn't stand out in

He stands out in this place very, very much and he doesn't like it

Refuses to leave the room he appeared in until his appearance is as unremarkable as possible (which is not easy to do, by the way, the man is a mountain. modern clothes in his size are hard to find)

Does not want to go in the car. It's way too fast and it makes him seasick when he closes his eyes to shut it out

Buses are somehow easiest - they feel the least claustrophobic when they're not crowded and it's rude to stare on them

You two end up going to a natural history museum in the middle of a weekday when hardly anybody is there, and he lights up

There are so many animals, and there are enough other people in the world who find those animals interesting that they gathered so much knowledge people had to make a building to hold it all

Has never heard evolutionary theory before and is fascinated by it

Once he starts talking, it's hard for him to stop

He's not being loud at all - you can only hear him so clearly because you two are holding hands so he can't lose you - but he's being quietly submerged in his own special interest and he loves it

He just wishes there weren't so many skeletons. But he's glad the species they belonged to aren't forgotten this way

Long story short, Muriel's inner Nerd is unleashed and he goes hoarse from the amount of murmuring he does all day

Does not like getting food in public. Does not like eating food in public. Does not like being publicly perceived. As soon as it gets into afternoon and it gets busy, he wants to go home

Which is where you show him what the internet is and he's in awe

People can work from home? People can make friends without leaving their house?? People can talk without being seen???

Portia

Spends five minutes hopping in place and squealing into her clothes to let out her nerves and excitement before you can decide what to do

Then insists on taking half an hour to hear you describe every single fun or interesting thing to do so she can make a list

Yes, she's determined to hit every single one in one day

First things first: food. Take her to a cafe and watch her sigh over all the baked goods and sugar-loaded caffeine beverages

Then (if there is one nearby) a mall, so she can see all the stuff that people buy so they can have the lifestyle they do. You have to drag her out of both Bath & Body Words and Bed, Bath, & Beyond

Please, it's full of fluffy fuzzy things and good smelling mystery goo, she wants to live in it also what do you mean "no stopping at the pet store", what even is a "pet store" -

Oh. OH -

You will have to physically pull her away before she adopts all the kittens. She does cry about it later, just a for a bit, they're so cute

Next is a library and cafe, of course, because she lives for books

This place is way bigger than the Palace library! The one in the Palace is just a large room, this is a whole building!! And people get to come here, whenever they want, just to read, for free?! What?!

You had to remind her about the "no loud noises in the library" rule several times. She's doing her best, she's just passionate

Completely demolishes her first chocolate croissant

Goes feral at the amusement park she has you take her to afterwards. This woman is an adrenaline fiend. You're cursing the pop up add for it by the fourth consecutive free fall ride

The only way to get her to leave is to tell her that one of her favorite stories was turned into a movie and that you'd have to go home to watch it. Don't take her to Target to get snacks. She'll disappear

Flicks the lightswitch 30 times in a row because she can

Lucio

He's immediately panicking. Not because he's in the future, no, but because of what it's done to his arm

It's changed. It's not running on magic any more. The only way to resolve his design is for it to be some kind of high-tech electrical prosthetic that even modern scientists would have difficulty with

Once he's adjusted to using it, you're good to go

Lights up like a firework the first time he rides in a car

MC. MC how fast does it go. MC that's a very high number. MC, he wants to drive. Please. Please! Pleeeaaaassssseeee

DO NOT LET HIM DRIVE.

Makes you pull over after seeing ads for Sephora because he's convinced that he could pull off that eye makeup even better

Tries every single makeup sampler and then gets offended when one of the poor employees suggests an anti-aging cream

Him? Aged?? How dare they - oh wait that really does brighten his eyes. He'll take ten, please, they're so small, they can't cost much -

You'll have to pull him out before he sees you use a credit card, because once he does he's going to keep asking to use it and you're not sure he understands why maxing it out is a bad thing

His arm does run out of battery at one point, which does cause some panic. All of a sudden he's stuck with a limp hunk of metal swinging from his shoulder, it's not ideal

You're able to find the retractable charging cable on the side and plug him in, but then he's stuck sitting in the same spot for two hours and a bored Lucio is a dangerous Lucio

There is a solution to this, of course. You can give him an iPad with games on it. He won't move a muscle after that

The caveat is that he will turn into an iPad kid and get glued to every single screen he sees afterwards. You don't know how to fix it

Falls in love with vending machines and tries Cheetos because the leopard on them looks cool. Develops an artificial cheese addiction

[goodluckclove]

I've been meaning to say something. (100 follower hot take)

Hey! Thanks for stopping by. I hope you've had a nice day. Why don't you rest with me for a while? I made some chocolate chip cookies - with shortening instead of butter, so they're very soft and very chocolatey. I made way too many and they aren't my wife's favorite, so I could use some help in eating them.

You're probably a writer, right? Or maybe you think about how you could be. Browse the tags here, or on other social media platforms. Maybe you used to write stories as a kid. I bet those were fun. Teachers might've thought they were impressive, or they dissected them line by line until the words didn't make sense in your head anymore. Either way, if you're here you're probably here for a reason.

(rant alert)

I dipped a toe in online writing communities on and off. My last attempt was forty-five minutes scrolling through the writing hashtag on Youtube Shorts (so TikTok, I guess? I don't know). I didn't like it. I really didn't. The thing that sticks out the strongest in my mind is one particular video where a woman claims that every story needs a second act plot twist.

Huh? Every story? All of them? Why? Since when? Who are you? What qualifications do you have to make a statement like that?

That's the common thread that makes a lot of writing spaces very uncomfortable for me. Successful writers are really only successful in their genre and for the given moment, so they don't have that much objective authority in the craft. And yet I see a lot of people deciding the things that you can't do in writing. Or the things you have to do, and how you have to do them. It was so much of Writeblr at first glance that I almost dipped out once again. I didn't, though, and I'm glad I didn't because now I get to watch some of the next great storytellers from across the world grow and examine and forge their way forward.

No one can teach you how to write. No, that's not true. Teachers teach literacy. Handwriting. Typing maybe - do schools still teach typing? Let me try saying it in a different way - no one, not one single person on this goddamned planet, has the right to tell you how to make a story.

I was supposed to get my MFA in creative writing before my first breakdown. My uncle stayed in the program I was meant to be in, and a few years after I dropped out he graduated. Recently I had the thought to look up his thesis novella, and as I searched I found myself regretting my decision to leave school. If I stayed and got to develop my writing in an actual class, with other writers and a knowledgeable professor, how much further along would I be than where I am right now?

It was bad. His novella was terrible. It was so bad I had a small existential crisis for, like, three days. He spent so much money on years and years of professional education and came out with a truly soulless story that read as if you prompted an AI to write the next Great American Novel. So if you think you need a writing degree to be a legitimate author, it could help connections-wise, but it ultimately won't be the thing that does the work for you.

Not all advice I see online on writing is bad. I find the people who are able to capture the "I" statements of therapy and phrase advice as things that have worked for them, or things that they personally enjoy, to be fine. Some writing advice can spark inspiration.

But if someone is the type of person to boil every story down to troupes and cliches, and then immediately say that every story that uses the trait they don't like is automatically bad for everyone? I'm dropping the kindness for a second - that's trash. That's a trash take and I see far too many writers use it as a reason to stop before they begin.

I don't like whump. I say my reasons in previous posts if you go back through my blog. But you will never hear me say that any story with whump in it is bad, because I don't know that. You might prove me wrong. I am an adult human being and I have the humility to admit that I can like something I didn't expect to. I genuinely enjoy the direction of The Human Centipede (only the first one) and if you cringed just now that probably means you haven't seen it.

There are so many types of books and movies and plays and comics out there. To enjoy a specific genre is fine, to ignore the existence of everything else is a really, really, really odd thing to do. Maybe someone will hate your story because they think everything should be Neil Gaiman, and therefore have no way to understand your epistolary high-Western. You are not the wrong end of that situation just for existing.

And at there is a definite threshold on how many writing tips you can gather before they stop being useful. If you find them interesting, that's one thing. That's fine. But if the culture of creativity online has made you feel like you need to educate yourself on every possible angle before you can write a story, you are actively harming yourself.

Imagine taking the level of structure you put on yourself in that way and putting it on children playing pretend in the backyard. Oh, Susie, don't you know that it's overdone for your Kitsune have dead parents? Xyler, shouldn't you ask someone else before you decide how Spiderman would react to this? It would make no sense and they do not need it. Kids will make a whole world out of nothing and it's the most fucked thing in my heart that at some point they get access to Reddit and dipshits start insisting that's wrong.

They aren't wrong and you aren't either. Your favorite creative influencer can't tell you your story, strangers on the internet can't tell you your story, your teachers and loved ones can't tell you your story. They can influence it, but they can't write it honestly the way you can.

You do that. That's the thing you do.

Man that makes me upset. I can't tell you how to make a story, either. If anyone sends me asks for writing advice the most I'll do is say what I've done before hopping into your DMs and starting a direct conversation. it's so personal to each individual artist, and I'd like to think that the people selling these classes and software and promoting these platforms haven't thought about that before. Otherwise it does feel manipulative. If you have a willingness to practice and imagine and really experiment with the possibilities, you are ready to write your story.

And if it doesn't work? Try again. That's what you do.

Stephen King has written roughly a thousand books and maybe five of them have decent endings. He is unimaginably successful.

I'm rambling now. I think I got that out of my system. I was really worried to say this out of fear of being too weird or somehow reverse-gatekeeping so hard that it circles back into also being a bad thing. I've just spoken to a lot of people who I still think of throughout my day, and I truly ache for them to get past the fear of creation. Because it's worth it. It's worth it and it's fun, even when it's messy and you're tired.

Let it Be just came on. Beatles. I haven't listened to The Beatles in a long time. Feels a little apropos.

I love you, reader. Reader, Writer, Colleague. Take care of yourself. Especially the little you, still sitting there in the backyard of your soul, bathing in the sun with their bare feet in the damp earth.

Consider joining them, maybe.

[primojade]

【 # 001 】 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

fallacy (n.) : are flawed, deceptive, or false arguments that can be proven wrong with reasoning.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : As a veteran AR60 player of Genshin Impact, you pride yourself as someone who knows the ins and outs of Teyvat, even studiously completing Spiral Abyss every reset, and having 100% exploration to some, if not all, of the released regions so far. Everything is fun and enjoyable, especially since Sumeru just recently debuted so you still have a lot to do!

All that ends though, when a mysterious passerby pushes you off the building of your university while playing Genshin. But instead of meeting your inevitable end, you find yourself waking up in the very world you were addicted to! 

It's supposed to be a fun dream, right? Something you could laugh at when you wake up? Right?! So, why is that you were back in AR1 with nothing but a dull blade in your inventory?!

…well, at least you still have those 700+ sunsettias and mints, Timmie's fowls…and surprisingly similar game mechanics you used to merely see on the screen before. But what should you do now? Flirt with the Genshin men??? Good lords...

"Welcome to Genshin Impact, Dreamer. Here, we can show you a happier ever after you've never had before…so, ready?"

𝐂𝐖 / 𝐓𝐖 : graphic depiction of violence; possible character death (on bad ends so choose your route wisely!); multiple endings (including good, bad, normal and secret ends); canon divergent, game mechanics, existential crisis, character study.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : isekai/reverse isekai, choose your own adventure (cyoa) with branching narratives, romance, comedy, angst (depending on the routes), hurt with/without comfort (still depends on routes), action, mystery, found family.

𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 : albedo, tighnari, zhongli, cyno, xiao, diluc, venti, ayato, kaveh, kazuha and tartaglia. Possible more love interest as the story progresses.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 : on-going

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 :

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 : that love is a fallacy.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈 : alea iacta est. (the die is cast)

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈 : argumentum ad hominem.

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈 : argumentum ad ignorantiam.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈: audentes fortuna iuvat. (fortune favours the bold)

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈.𝐈 : magister dixit.

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈.𝐈𝐈 : argumentum petitio principii.

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈.𝐈 : ignoratio elenchi.

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈.𝐈𝐈: cum hoc ergo propter hoc.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈 : veritas liberabit vos. (the truth will set you free)

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐕 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐈 : —

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈 : —

tba...

"𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅" 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒

𝐈 | odi et amo ; ( gn!reader × scaramouche ) ; in which scaramouche reveals you the reason why he hates you so much. But in the silence that comes after his hatred is revealed, and from the unspoken words that never leave his lips, would it be too selfish to ask for something more than this? 

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 :

reader here is gender neutral, so if I happened to have a pronoun slip by accident, please do correct me. I swear it was a honest mistake cause I don't really proofread my works :3

that being said, although reader should based off of you, as in you reading this, reader has their own background prior to their arrival in teyvat. Down below are some of the changes/characteristics I took the liberty to add to the reader's persona and history to fit in the story!

(i.) reader is a university student studying science or other related field (their specialisation differs in each route to make it interesting). though i did not specify their age, appearance and race (feel free to imagine them whichever), they were supposed to be in the middle of taking their college degree.

(ii.) reader has an adoptive older brother (who would be important in the storyline later on).

(iii.) reader is presented to be quite reckless, a bit ditzy, chaotic, an unhinge and lively character, rebellious, hardheaded, opinion oriented, and wouldn't bend to rules that they see as pointless no matter how the society dictates them to do so, but they were kind and carefree when you get to know them more. you'll see what I'm talking about in the first chapter 😂

before I forgot, although I'm a huge fan of the sagau presented in tumblr (the one with creator and cult themes; those are chef kiss btw), my take on the plot of sagau is very different. There's no divine creator here or cultish behaviours (i'm so sorry if that's what you're looking for 😷) my main focus here is all about the genshin characters' self awareness that they were in a game as they interacted with the isekai!reader, which is why I added the reverse isekai in the genre tags because it will be a huge turnover in the future chapters :>

also, the game mechanics I'm talking about above is what we see on the screen of genshin. Like the Paimon Menu, the inventory, the character archive, and so on! When reader is isekaid, it seems like they brought the whole screen with them? XD

I know stuff will probably be confusing for you and me later on because of the branching narratives happening in this hellhole of a plot, but please bare with me xD I will do my best to make it clear as possible.

This fanfic has four types of routes (or ends if you prefer it that way), There are good ends (romantic happy ending all the way!), bad ends (if you're unlucky that you fall in the dramatic hellhole then yes), normal ends (this could end in either being platonic, a cliffhanger or an open ending up to your interpretation lmao), and lastly, the secret ends (i'll keep whatever this is hidden for now because I planned something huge for this lol).

a "what if" routes are a series of one-shots, short stories or drabbles that was not really connected with the primary routes. It could be read as a standalone fics. Possibly just my word vomit and brainrotting lmao. They also don't have any branching narratives like the primary routes.

well! that is all, i guess! I'll add something later if I remember stuff I should be telling you beforehand but for now, i guess this would do xD also, if you wanted to be tagged for this, feel free to dm me or send an ask about it! Thank you for reading all the way and I hope you will have fun (and a good laughs!) while you were reading this trash of a fanfic lmao 🤣

Ps. I'll try to post the prologue tomorrow since its already half finished already <3

[chubs-deuce]

With your Chalastor with child AU (I think?), I have a few questions. How did Vox react to Alastor having a child? What do the other overlords think of Alastor being a father? Who is Dawn's god parents (if something happens to Charlie or Alastor or both)?

hi! :D the response here got a bit long so I put it under the cut woops

I'm not 100% sure tbh, but I like to think he had to reboot pretty hard, was then hella in disbelief and denial, then later decides he has to one-up Alastor and tries to find some unlucky brat to take under his wing as an adopted child :'D

Velvette and Alastor are actually friends to some degree, they meet once or twice a month for tea and gossip. Velvette thinks him having a kid is fucking weird and she doesn't like kids, but you bet she insists on being allowed some exclusive rights to design clothes for her when she's older as a form of hush-money for not spreading the news like wildfire immediately. She won't keep Vox from doing so (that's his business then), but she won't snitch either. Valentino couldn't care less unless it infringes on his business in some way :'D Zestial I think would be curious about the circumstances but wouldn't prod impolitely. Carmilla is first shocked, then confused. She half suspected he kidnapped the kid or that it's a trick of some kind, but soon enough changes from confused to concerned because overlord meetings are no place for a child like that and generally keeps judging the shit out of his parenting choices :'D. So she's kind of second-hand mothering I guess? Zeezi (I assume that's her name? We lack confirmation from the show) fucking loves the little stinker, mainly bc Dawn looks at her like she hung the moon and stars in the sky for a long time. Dawn loves any kind of animal that is big and has sharp teeth, so Zeezi's appearance fits that pattern perfectly lmao. She doesn't care for Alastor in any particular way, so she doesn't pay a lot of attention to his role as a father so much as the kid being an adorable little gremline. Rosie I've gone into before in a different post, but to summarize: she adores Dawn right away and ends up providing a lot of other things too like diapers and pacifiers etc. She does give Al a hard time over doing it all backwards, since he had a child with someone and didn't put a ring on her first.

I'm ngl I never had godparents of any kind myself so they were kind of a big mystery to me in terms of what the fuck that even meant, so I haven't put any thought into that concept applied to my AU either woops I guess it'd make sense for each parent to pick one? In which case I think the obvious choices would be Rosie and Lucifer? I'm half toying with the idea of Charlie picking Vaggie too, but I'm not sure where their mutual trust is at by the point such a thing would be discussed >_>

[dark-frosted-heart]

Mirror, mirror...Who will sink into lustful dreams? - Roger Barel

This is Roger's story from Alfons' route release event in Kate's POV. If I get Roger's POV, I'll translate that too

Nsfw, Illusion?Roger is his own warning. You know, the usual josei dubcon...but in dream form.

As usual can't guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Alfons: Are you ready? In that case: 3, 2, 1...

Following Alfons' rhythmic countdown, I opened my eyes—

—And found myself in the infirmary with Roger in front of me.

Kate: This suggestion's amazing...It's as if the real Roger's right in front of me!

Roger: The hell are you talkin' about?

The Roger before me furrowed his brows in confusion. Meanwhile, I was even more impressed by his reaction, as if it was actually Roger himself.

Kate: Um...I'll explain later. Do you remember when you and I had a fight last week?

~~ Flashback start ~~

What happened was that we had different thoughts regarding a mission. Roger wasn't listening to me at all—

Kate: I don't want to see you again!

After saying something so childish like a kid throwing a tantrum, I really didn't see Roger after that...

I lost my chance to apologize to him.

~~ Flashback end ~~

Kate: So I asked Alfons to help me...practice apologizing to you. He suggested that I see Roger in a dream.

Roger: So that's it... So we're in your dream, huh? You're earnest even with stuff like practicing how to apologize. I don't really care about what you said to me back then. I know you have your own thoughts, so don't worry about it.

Roger's illusion forgave me so easily. While it thought it was a typical Roger thing to do, I suddenly felt uneasy.

Kate: I wish the real Roger would say that same thing...

Roger: He did. It's me.

Kate: Just because Roger's illusion forgave me so easily, doesn't mean it'll actually turn out like this. I shouldn't just apologize...Should I prepare something...?

Roger: If you really wanna show your sincerity, then how 'bout you buy him a nice beer?

Kate: ...! You're right, I should!

Illusion Roger's suggestion was what finally gave me the courage to apologize to the real Roger.

(I'll apologize with this the next time I see the real Roger...)

Roger: By the way, little lady, why're you puttin' so much effort into making up with me?

Kate: Eh...

Roger: Hate to say this but, I don't mix business and pleasure. If you and I are fighting, it's not gonna affect your work, is it?

Kate: The reason why I want to make up with Roger isn't because of work...

Roger: Oh...?

Kate: I...I admire how Roger's researching curses and his diligent approach to treatment others. Though I think it'd be nice if you were less pushy or mean... I put my trust in Roger. That's why I don't want to stay on bad terms with him.

(I'd never say to Roger himself because he'd tease me...)

Roger: So you wanna make up with me cuz you like me?

Kate: L-like...That's not it.

Roger: Whaddya mean? Ah...not like, but love?

Kate: Why's it getting worse...!

Then, Roger's hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me in hard—

Kate: Nn...!

With practiced hands, he easily stole a kiss.

Roger: Any normal woman would keep her distance from a man who puts his hands on her. But you never run away when I do and you say you wanna make up with me. There's only one reason for that. You love me so much you can't stand it. That it?

Why does the degree of love increase each time?

Roger's confident gaze pierced through me and I almost nodded because of it.

Kate: I...

(Roger's right...I want to make up because of a considerable amount of fondness I have.)

(But...it's not because of romantic love or true love.)

I can't explain what's different, but I can't say I'm in love.

Kate: I do like you. As a fairytale write, Roger!

I fixed my gaze on Roger to emphasize that it was only a working relationship.

Roger: Oh...?

Kate: Roger's worth documenting, that's all I'm going to say.

I tried to attach some non-romantic rationale onto the reason why I want to make up with Roger.

Roger: Even so, it doesn't matter. If you like me for my humanity, then all you need is to like me as a man.

As soon as he said that, Roger pinned me down on the bed.

Kate: Why are you going in that direction? Let me go...!

Roger: Why...Because no matter how many times I bully you, you always come back with your tail waggin'. You really like me, but if you're gonna pretend that you don't...I'll expose you.

My hands were immediately pinned over my head.

I couldn't move because Roger was hovering over me.

Kate: Nn...

There was nothing I could do as Roger kissed me again.

Unlike last time, his tongue parted my lips and teased the inside, making my breathing ragged.

(Even though this is a dream and this Roger's an illusion, why does it feel so real?)

My kiss-addled mind couldn't comprehend it.

Kate: Nn...Nnn?!

I let out a muffled scream in Roger's mouth.

As expected, Roger's hand slipped beneath my underwear.

Roger: You're already so wet here...All this from kissing me?

A deep laugh rumbled in his throat and he moved his fingers, rubbing and pressing against my sensitive spot.

Kate: Do- Ahnn... Don't!

Roger: Not that convincing when you have such a lewd look on your face. Well, I'd rather be inside you instead of makin' you cum like this.

Kate: In...side? Ah...!

The fingers that had been stimulating my bud entered me and I let out a high-pitched cry.

Roger: Mm, you're tight here, little lady. Well, guess you'll get used to it.

Roger's fingers continued pumping his fingers in and out, making obscene sounds as he stretched me out.

Kate: Haa....! I can't...Nn...

Roger: I'm gonna need to use 3 or 4 fingers here if I'm gonna fit, you know?

Kate: You're not going to...put it...in...

Roger: You're stubborn. Your body's being honest though, look.

Roger's fingers pressed against a specific spot inside me and stimulated it relentlessly.

Kate: Ah...?! Not there...Nnghaa...

Roger: I know. Tapping this spot feels good, doesn't it?

Regardless of how much I protested and tried to wriggle away, Roger didn't let me go.

(This is my dream and Roger's an illusion... I was supposed to practice making up with him...)

(Why is this happening...?)

But what confused me even more was my heart...

(Even if the real Roger pushed me around like this too...I'd still want to make up with him)

(I know he's going to do terrible things to me...Have I gone crazy?)