#((reblog for the morning people))

[savebylou]

A day to remember, Larry reunion [14.07.24].

[paintpanic]

Res AU Joronia drawings. Character rambling and bonus doodles under cut.

This AU takes place a good while after the events of Triple Deluxe happened. Since then, Taranza's mostly recovered mentally from everything. He was able to move on from his grief and (somewhat) forgive himself. Now that Joronia's in his life again, seemingly back to her former self, some of those wounds he'd thought were fully healed have started to ache again. He still feels ultimately guilty for what happened to her.

He's thrilled that Joronia's been given a second chance at life, but is somewhat wary deep down. This feels to good to be true, that she's just back with seemingly no strings attached. The other shoe could drop any day now, and he could lose her all over again. Fearing this, he wants to make the most out of what could be a short time to be together again with his friend.

Joronia senses that there's a distance between the two of them now that wasn't there before. It shouldn't be surprising; he's probably still hurt from what she did. Other people definitely are. She's determined, though, to work hard to make it up to everyone she's hurt, and to prove to them (and herself) that she's not really like that, that she's capable of being better.

The Mirror's influence twisted her mind and her perception of reality. It made her feel like she was inadequate, and that everyone else were enemies to be subjugated. Now, she's supposed to be normal and better, but she still feels like there's something wrong with her head. She still doesn't feel good enough, and it still feels like everyone hates her. It's hard to trust herself. She's not sure if it's some lingering effect of the Mirror, or if there's just something inherently wrong with her now. She's scared.

She's afraid that something will happen, that she'll revert to how she was as Queen, and that she'll hurt Taranza again. Someone who'd always helped her, who'd stuck with her even when she was absolutely horrible to him, and who's kindness she's relying on again now, staying at his home as she worked on getting her life back together. She's a burden on him, and she always has been. She hates it.

Still, her deepest, most selfish wish is that they could be real friends again.

---

These two need to have a long, honest discussion about their feelings toward each other and themselves. Both of them are absolutely terrified about that prospect, though, because they each think that the other secretly resents them to some degree. If they actually talked through it, they'd quickly realize that they both want the same thing.

[romanticatheartt]

You know why I love Feysand? One of the reasons is because there's a balance between them. In a way they complete each other.

Feyre is all forgiveness, love and a pleaser.

But Rhysand on the other hand is all revenge, hate and never forget.

Whenever he's drowning in hatred for himself, for people who wronged his loved ones, she's there to pull him up and shower him with love, respect and reminding him of goodness.

And whenever she is being too forgiving to the point she's forgetting herself or to put herself first, he's there to bring justice and be a shield for her from the injustice of it all.

That's why this is one of my favorite scene of them:

He's saying he can't forgive anyone who wronged her. But she remembers the ones who wronged him and notices he doesn't care about himself, his hatred for himself won't allow it.

She's saying he has to forgive at some point. He's there to remind her that maybe it's okay to admit that some people have made her suffer.

It's this back and forth between them. It balances them.

He's always self sacrificing himself to keep his loved ones safe, to make them comfortable, to be a shield. And Feyre came to his life, saw right throw all of them and let him to burden her with some of those duties he put himself up for them.

Sometimes it's a wrong trait but it's never out of malice.

And she is always too forgiving, putting everyone else first, always backing down when some times she needs to back up for herself and she let herself to forget them. But he won't, he will remember, he'll defend her if it's needed and when someone crosses a line, he's there to remind them to back down.

Sometimes she let people take too much from her and it might hurt her in the process. A wrong trait of her.

They're the definition of "I will give my love for the both of us" and "I will give my hatred for the both of us"... does that make sense?

[rewritingcanon]

jily

[sun-e-chips]

Sorry for all the spam rebloging but I literally can’t get enough your water park au-

HANBSBSN

take some rainbows and may your days be merry 🌈🌈🌈

Tell the boys I say hi!

Never ever apologize for spam reblogging!!! You are a legend!

And the waterpark boys cannot get enough of you!!! Accepting the rainbows and sending Sun after you because the boys love accepting hi’s in person!

(Sun also believes no hi’s should go unaccompanied by a hug) :)

[zackprincebooks]

🥘Feast Day 🥘

As a kitchen serf in the fortress-monastery, you love feeding your lord angels. If your meager work is one of the few pleasures they can enjoy in their endless war, then you are happy to serve. But your decadent meals are not the only pleasure they seek, and you will come to serve in a different way. (Gadriel x Reader, explicit. 2nd person PoV, Reader is not addressed with a name or gendered pronouns.)

Want to read this on Ao3? Click here!

-------------------------

Fragrant steam rises from the kitchen, fogging up the glasses of the head chef as you open the oven to remove your roasting pan. Some juices dribble off the saber bear roast and splash into the oven, making a sizzling sound and producing even more steam.

“Careful! We still need to braise the grand chestnuts in the sauce, so don’t lose too much jus.” The Master of the Refectorium cleans his glasses on his apron and puts them on, groaning as they immediately fog up again. You take a knee to remove the roasting pan, huffing as your sweaty, mitted hands struggle to lift it onto the counter. 

“I need an extra pair of hands here!” Immediately three people rush to your side as the roasting pan threatens to tip over, pushing it back with their hands wrapped in dish towels. Together, you hoist the roasting pan onto some trivets waiting on the counter. Your fellows clap you on the back and one of them offers you a towel. 

“Many thanks.” You wipe your glistening brow with the proffered towel before throwing it over your shoulder. “If I dropped this and wasted eight hours of roasting, I couldn’t show my face around the monastery.” The thought of explaining to the Lord Angels that they would go without dinner was enough to make your knees weak. 

You didn’t fear them; you loved them with every inch of your weak, mortal heart. Feeding the Emperor’s Angels was a holy duty in and of itself, and you could not meet their disappointed gaze if you had to tell them you ruined one of their few pleasures in life. 

The saucier takes the pan of drippings over to the stove with a bottle of wine and a sack of chestnuts, and you are forced to wash the pan’s rack as you let the roast rest on the counter. It’s watching you, teasingly, begging you to cut into it to check if the inside is done. For such a powerful animal, saber bear meat was notoriously finicky. One minute over its extensive roasting time, and those delicate proteins would start breaking down into gray, unpalatable mush.

“Are you trying to kill it again?” Your saucier teases, giving the chestnuts a little flip. Drops of wine sauce glitter in the air like precious garnets, but your focus is directed towards your precious roast. Every time someone walks by, your breath hitches for fear that they would accidentally knock it to the floor—despite the roast being too big and heavy for anyone but a Space Marine to nudge it off the counter.

Finally—fucking finally—you can cut into it. It’s a thing of beauty; adorned with spices and herbs and the carving knife cuts through it like butter. Each plump slice is a beautiful ruby red, adorned with glittering pearls of fat. More juice spills from each cut, flowing over your knife like reams of crimson silk. You swallow the desire to fawn over the individual slices; it will be almost dinner time, and serving the lords cold, flaccid meat would be a bigger disappointment than serving nothing at all! 

You’re halfway through slicing the roast when you hear the distant sound of a bell ringing, heralding the approach of the Lord Angels. Despite that, you hold off on cutting faster; the roast needs to rest for a second time before you can serve it, and you will have plenty of time during the first course. Nothing but the best for your angels.

The metal window opens up to the dining hall, and you briefly look up from your work to admire the gathered angels.  Many of them have come from the baths with hair still damp and cheeks flushed red from steam. Sometimes you envy the bath serfs, who tend to the lords at their most vulnerable, but you would never relinquish the joy you feel from filling their bellies.

Their first course is an array of broiled root vegetables, many of them slathered in cheese, erdripper bacon, or both. While you bemoan the sheer amount of grease and fat, reaching the ten-thousand calories required to keep a Space Marine fed and running was no easy feat. At least they were getting their vegetables, and not fully subsisting on nutrigruel and amino-porridge. You shudder to think of what your angels eat on the battlefield without your spoon and pan!

Lord Gadriel glimpses you cutting your roast, and his blue eyes light up. “I hope that’s for me later,” he says with a smile, nodding towards you. His blond hair is damp from the baths and the light glances off it, giving him a true halo. You blush and look down, continuing to cut.

From behind him, Lord Chairon lets out a deep throated chuckle that rattles your ribcage. “Don’t be greedy, brother! Leave some for us! That’s a prize of a roast.” He thwaps Gadriel on his bare bicep with a powerful fist and you watch it bounce.

When Gadriel takes his first course, he levels his gaze at you and the warmth in your lower belly tells you he’s not thinking about the roast. -------------------------------

If your fellow cooks knew you wanted to stay late to get a slice of the saber bear roast to yourself, they didn’t show it. The master bids you goodnight, tossing his soiled apron into the hamper as he leaves.

To your credit, you do wash, chop, and wrap the chimera fruit and cobblemoss in preparation for breakfast tomorrow, and you’re in the middle of cleaning your workstation when you hear footsteps down the hall leading to the kitchen doors. The bulky shadow on the opposite wall makes your heart throb in your chest and you abandon the washrag on the counter to approach the double doors.

“Lord Gadriel, may I assist you? Was tonight’s dinner not enough to satisfy you?” While mealtime was over, the kitchen was open to anyone who needed food.

He smiles at you, his head tilting to one side. “I am quite satisfied by tonight’s meal; it was delicious. Thank you for your hard work. I have never gone hungry, so long as you are in the kitchen. But I feel as though you have gone unsatisfied…”

Your breath stutters as your gaze drifts down to the bulge in Gadriel’s sweatpants. It felt too obscene to see that part of an angel; to know that they lusted and wanted just as a fragile mortal. It feels even worse to stare at it, but when you drag your gaze up to Gadriel’s face, you find his expression is as hungry as his body. Your legs clench as though you can feel his tongue against the apex of your thighs as he licks his lips.

“I would never demand you to feed me, my lord,” you protest weakly.

“Nor would answer your demand,” Gadriel counters. You try to hold your ground as he advances, but Gadriel's oppressive weight eventually pushes you against the steel wall behind you. It cools your sizzling skin but doesn't temper the flame of your arousal.

One of Gadriel's hands reaches out to touch the meat of your bottom lip, skimming the bite marks in the soft flesh. You can smell the nourishing oils from his bath earlier, making his skin soft and tender. You resist the urge to lick it, even though your mouth is watering.

“I want you to beg for it.” His growling voice makes your belly clench. Suddenly you feel horrifically empty; starving to feel Gadriel inside of you even if he would shred you alive.

“Please feed me, my lord. Fill me with your need and allow me to sate you.” Your lips brush against Gadriel’s thumb with each word, and you punctuate your pleas with a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb.

“Open wide,” is his only warning before Gadriel pushes you to the floor. He's gentle about it, but for an angel, it means you're lucky that your knees don't break when they impact with the floor. He winces when you do, and whispers “sorry,” as he runs his fingers through your hair as penance. With his opposite hand, Gadriel slowly pulls down his sweatpants until his cock manages to pop out. He's not as long as you expected him to be, but he is deliciously thick and veiny, with a large, red head. The dusting of golden hair on his crotch is well-groomed…had he been expecting you? 

Waiting for you?

Wanting you?

This is a delicacy to be savored. Opening your mouth, you press a sucking kiss to the head of his cock before sticking out your tongue to wet his slit. He's still too long for you to take him wholly into your mouth, so you use one hand to stroke what you cannot reach as your mouth slowly engulfs him.

Gadriel's primal groan is sweet on your ears, as is his hand pushing your face further into his groin. The head of his cock bumps the back of your throat and your futile attempts to relax your throat to take more only make you gag sloppily. A dribble of saliva is forced out from the corner of your mouth with his next thrust.

If looking at Gadriel's bulging cock was obscene, this is a blessing. Your only lament is that you cannot take the whole of his cock into your mouth so that he could properly fuck your throat. But you take some sadistic pleasure in watching the tremble of his hips as he valiantly holds himself back.

The hallway behind the kitchen is soon filled with the wet noises of your sucking and Gadriel's deep moans. Your muffled whimpering joins in as your free hand dives under your apron and into your pants to touch yourself. It feels wrong to take your pleasure when Gadriel hasn't finished, but the burning between your legs is only heightened by his noises.

Your sounds do not go unnoticed by his sensitive hearing, and his chuckle sends shivers down your spine. “Does this make you feel good? I can make you feel even better than your mere fingers. Would you like that?”

With your eyes watery, your lips puffy, and your face red with exertion, you're sure you look like a mess. But Gadriel's blue gaze is soft as he watches your mouth contract around his cock.

“Would you like that?” He repeats, gentler this time, and you nod, unintentionally bobbing around his cock so his breath stutters. “G-good.”

Your whine of pleasure turns to one of disappointment as Gadriel pulls his cock from your mouth, glistening with your saliva. You don't even have time to wipe your lips before Gadriel tugs you to your feet with one hand on your shoulder.

Lifting you against the wall until you're at eye-level with him, Gadriel pulls you in for a kiss. It muffles your initial “mmph!” on impact, but Gadriel's lips coax softer sounds out of you. You can taste the slight sweetness of cream on his mouth from tonight's dessert. Pressed between the bulk of his chest and the unforgiving wall, you just barely fit your arms around Gadriel's shoulders to run up and down his back. Under your hands, his broad shoulders flex and bulge.

Your kiss breaks with a quiet smacking sound and Gadriel steps back for a moment. He takes the time to step out of his pants, though he doesn't remove his shirt. There's a thin sheen of sweat gathering at his collar that you want to lick, but it dawns on you that you’re in the middle of a hallway behind the kitchen.

“My l-lord, should w-we really b-be doing this?” Gadriel’s hand pauses as he reaches for the strings of your apron.

“Do you want to? If you are afraid of the consequences, then I will cover for you. It is no trouble,” he says quickly as you open your mouth. “I want this.”

“I want this, too. I just feel a little…” You gesture to the hallway. “Exposed. And we are not fucking in the kitchen.”

Gadriel chuckles, pressing his powerful arms against the wall. His head tilts downwards until you are fully boxed in, sheltered by his body. Occasionally, you can feel his breath feathering the top of your hair. “Still feeling exposed?”

“Not anymore, my lord.” You smile at him, which he returns.

You meet again for another kiss; gentler this time. Gadriel's jaw rubs yours and you can feel the stubble under his chin where he missed shaving in the bath. His hands slide down your body, spanning the entire length of your ribcage before dipping down to cup your ass and lift once more against the wall. He breaks the kiss and tilts down to kiss your neck before nibbling. It's almost ticklish, and you giggle for a second until he bites.

“Oh, oh,” one of your legs attempts to kick out but Gadriel holds you firmly against the wall. Almost as if he's showing off, he holds you with one hand while his other unties the strings of your apron.

“Are you a virgin?” He whispers into your skin. You manage a trembling no, and he nips underneath your right ear. Gadriel lets go of your legs again and backs up by a half step.

“Turn around for me and put your hands against the wall for me...yes, just like that.” Gadriel presses a fleeting kiss you the back of your neck before his weight leaves you. You feel his bulk settling somewhere behind you, under you, and his hands reach around to your front in order to unbuckle your belt and pull down your pants. The cool air hits your bare skin, but even as Gadriel pulls down your underwear, you still don't feel chilled. Not when his warm hands are caressing your ass and spreading your cheeks to reveal your tight hole.

“Now this is a treat,” he murmurs under his breath before leaning in and licking a stripe up your crack. The warmth and wetness of his tongue on your most intimate and vulnerable place makes you melt and moan. Your breath fogs up the steel wall as you pant from his questing tongue.

Not only is he skilled, but he is also relentless. Gadriel assaults your tight pucker with licks and sucks; if anyone dared to walk down this hallway, they wouldn't need to round the corner to hear the lewd noises that bounce off the walls. You hide your burning red face in your folded arms against the wall, but it does nothing to quiet your moaning and whimpering.

Once your hole is properly wetted, Gadriel sits back on his heels to admire his handiwork. You dare to look over your shoulder down at him. His expression is so fucking smug that it would be almost insulting, if it weren't for the fact that you were both naked from the waist down.

“You're being very good,” he murmurs, giving your ass a squeeze, “just a little longer, all right? I don't want to hurt you.”

“All right.” You turn your face back into your arms, but not before you watch Gadriel insert three fingers into his mouth. There's a soft sucking noise, akin to the sound he made while he ate your ass. He wets them thoroughly and pulls them out of his mouth with a pop.

Though your previous experiences with anal were few and far between, you know enough that you don't flinch when the first of Gadriel's thick fingers breaches your asshole. He's loosened you enough so there's nothing more than a brief pinching sensation before he's able to start pushing in and out.

“You're very tight in here,” Gadriel muses, “has it been a long time?” When you hesitate, he kisses the swell of your ass cheek. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”

“It's been a while,” you hedge, “with, ah, work and everything.”

“You work so hard,” and Gadriel thrusts more forcefully on the word hard, making you gasp, “let me help you relax.” He adds a second finger, and you moan at the stretch.

You attempt to raise a counterpoint, “I-I serve...the angels...”

“Then let me serve you, for a chance.” Gadriel spreads his fingers apart to scissor you open. “I wasn't lying when I said I'm always satisfied with your meals. You feed me so well.”

When he adds the third finger, your vision goes white. Your moaning has turned into sobbing, tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. You could cum like this if not for the larger prize awaiting you.

Gadriel seems to notice, and he slowly withdraws his fingers from your hole, making a lewd, squelching sound. You don't know whether you're more turned on by the sound or by what it means when Gadriel stands up. You attempt to brace yourself against the wall for the punishing pounding you're about to receive, but Gadriel grasps you by the waist and turns you around one final time.

“I want to see you when I take you.” You lean on him to untie your shoes and take your pants off all the way, and when he lifts you in his arms one final time, his blue eyes fill you with warmth.

“Thank you.”

This is a familiar position for you by now, with your thighs bracketing Gadriel's sides and his chest pressed against yours—only this time, the head of Gadriel's cock rubs against your stretched, wet hole. You rock your hips until it catches the rim of your ass. You're not sure who gasps when the head sinks into you.

You scrabble for purchase on Gadriel's back and he holds you closer, sinking in little by little. “Angel,” you choke into his ear, and he responds with a cracked moan of your name.

He's so big. That's the only thing running through your mind. Though you held Gadriel's cock in your mouth not ten minutes ago, it somehow feels longer and thicker as he sinks you down onto it. When you feel his balls on the swell of your ass, you can't help looking down to make sure there's not a bulge in your stomach.

“It's in?” Gadriel pants, and you nod.

“It's in. A-all of it. Oh, Throne, I took all of it...” He chuckles weakly, kissing your temple. 

“Do you think you're ready for me to move?”

“Yes!” The word is barely out of your mouth before Gadriel thrusts, pushing you upwards against the wall. You scrabble for purchase on his back, rucking up his shirt and exposing some of his ports.

“So tight, am I hurting you? You feel...so good.” Gadriel pants directly into your ear, his warm breath cascading down the collar of your shirt.

“No, doesn't hurt, but—” Gadriel fucking stops and you muffle your scream by biting his shoulder. “It feels like you're splitting me in half!”

“That's the plan,” he huffs, and resumes thrusting. The positioning is a little awkward; you almost wish Gadriel took you from behind. But on a particularly harsh thrust that makes your toes curl, you watch Gadriel's lips part softly and his eyes roll back into his head.

That alone makes everything worth it.

Despite your best efforts, you cum first. Gadriel holds you through it, continuing to grind his cock into your asshole so you can ride it out. When you pull back, you stammer your apologies at the wet spot your orgasm left on his shirt.

“No, don’t apologize. It was beautiful.” Gadriel kisses you, gently wiping your tears with his thumb. “Do you want me to cum in you?” When he grinds into you again, you swear his balls feel fuller than before.

“Please, Gadriel,” you whimper, and his next kiss devours your mouth. You can barely breathe even through your nose as your oversensitive ass is pounded by Gadriel’s cock, molding your hole to its shape. When Gadriel pulls away, the long string of saliva connecting your mouth snaps as his head throws back with a deep moan. You seize the moment to pounce and bite down on his exposed neck, relishing in the whine Gadriel makes as he pumps your ass full of hot, sticky cum.

After all the sounds you’ve made, the hallway is silent as you both come down. You nibble on Gadriel’s neck and rub his back, careful to avoid his ports lest you overstimulate him. His hands squeeze your thighs in appreciation before lowering you onto the ground. Both of you wince as his cock slips out of you.

“Oops,” Gadriel laughs sheepishly, reaching beyond you. Looking over your shoulder, you watch Gadriel touch a dent in the wall made by his forceful thrusts.

“It’s all right; nothing important is on the side of that wall,” you reassure him with a kiss. Gadriel helps you put your pants and shoes on, sneaking kisses and copping feels as he ties your apron.

“Did you at least enjoy it?” The shy expression on his face is so cute, you want to kiss him—so you do.

“It was amazing. But I think I would enjoy it more in a bed.” You lean back and stretch, wincing as your back cracks.

“That can be arranged, if you’d like?” Gadriel pauses in the middle of pulling his sweatpants back on. “I understand there is a stereotype of Space Marines sleeping on slabs of rock, but my bed is quite comfortable.”

“I’m very tempted,” and Gadriel’s nigh rakish grin is enough to make you reconsider, “but I have other plans for the rest of my night. Though you’re welcome to join me?”

It takes a few minutes to reheat the sauce, as it has coagulated since dinnertime. But soon, the kitchen fills with the sounds and smells of simmering red wine sauce and grand chestnuts. You let the sauce go while you prepare the roast. Gadriel’s patience is adorable; keeping his hands to himself as you occasionally pass him with hot pans and sharp knives.

The kitchen is quiet as you both eat, hunched over the counter. You savor every bite, letting the tender flesh fill your mouth. With the tender sweetness of the grand chestnuts breaking up the robust flavor of the roast and the acidic quality of the sauce, it’s the perfect dish.

Well…

Your eyes cut over to Gadriel. He catches you staring and gently nudges you with his elbow, eyes twinkling.

Almost perfect.

[bruhstation]

[scribbly-artist]

Too Hard on Yourself

Summary: You’re working on an assigned project at Piltover Academy, and while most of the time you pick up new things quickly, this time, you haven’t. You’re frustrated with yourself, crying at your workbench. However, you old friend Jayce Talis is here to make you feel better.

Author’s Notes: Thanks to the anon for submitting this request!! They had asked for ler!Jayce and lee!reader platonically, and I was happy to deliver. This was my first time writing for Jayce, so I hope he doesn’t sound super OOC. :) I locked in so hard writing this one which I’m surprised with, as I’m dead tired from travelling this weekend. I hope you enjoy! If you’d like to see a fic from me, feel free to send in an ask request and I’ll see what I can do!

Words: ~2,000 | AO3 Link

A very long, exhausting day looks like it will end in tears for you as you lay your head straight down on the workbench, droplets escaping from your eyes that you couldn't control. 

Why did everything have to be so hard? You were trying your best, but things just weren't going your way lately. 

You've been enrolled into the Piltover Academy starting this year. It took everything within your mind and body to pass the exam to even get into it in the first place. You wanted to push yourself to do better, for yourself and for your city. For the most part, you enjoyed being here. The classes, the people, the teachers. 

Though, sometimes, information and topics went way over your head, making tasks a lot harder than they should be. Usually, most subjects and instructions just clicked with you - you thought of yourself as a fast and efficient learner. But when you really didn’t get something and tried hard to combat the issue, your failures and lack of understanding really, really upset you. This project you were assigned was one of those difficult times. 

Your class was handed blueprints to build this device. From the visual alone, it was quite complex, even for your class to handle. Some people started their tasks effortlessly, some had stayed back to try to get as much of it done before they left for the day to try again tomorrow.

Except for you. 

The sun was setting, the orange glow bouncing off the walls and the pieces of machinery some students had left on their work benches. Fragments of light ricocheted off the countless shiny pieces of metal in just the wrong places, blinding you as you raised your head up to wipe at your eyes. 

There were a lot of delicate and small parts concerning this device. You didn’t want to break anything accidentally, or screw it up at all. In your mind, everything had to be perfect. If it didn’t turn out perfect, to you it meant that your skills were severely lacking, bringing your self-esteem and self-worth way down. 

Your mind was foggy, it was hard to think. Your anxiety was at its peak, you were so frustrated with yourself. Your head felt like it was spinning as it pounded, your eyes hurt from being wide open for so long, and you were so, so tired. Reaching up to your face, you rubbed your eyes, trying to will the tears away so you could attempt to calm down. 

However, there was an echo of footsteps coming from the entrance of the room. You quickly attempted to clean yourself up, swiping the tears on your face and whipping your head around to see who it was. 

It was Jayce Talis, your long time friend from way back when. Oh no. He was fast approaching with a smile on his face, as usual. 

You didn't want him to see you like this. Despite knowing him for so long, you don’t want him to think of you as weak. You snapped your head back around, picking up the blueprints in front of you so that you could maybe use them to hide your face, or make yourself look busy. “Hi, Jayce…” you managed to croak out, trying to not let your emotions spill over. 

“Hey, I see you're burning the midnight oil,” he commented, sauntering over to your bench, placing a hand down on the edge as he leaned his weight against it. His head craned over, trying to get a look at your face. “What do the professors have you doing this week?”

“They've just assigned us to build this thing…” you muttered, not engaging much in the conversation. You hoped that maybe if you were stand-offish enough that Jayce might leave, as awful as that sounded. 

But Jayce noticed.

You never acted this way around him, you could light up a room with your presence and charm. Jayce knew something was up. “Is everything okay?” He quizzed, concern laced in his voice. 

At first, you didn’t know how to respond. You were never one to really open yourself up when you had problems - you absolutely never wanted to bother or worry your loved ones. You wanted to stay silent, but from his question, emotions already started boiling like a pot on a stove inside you. “It’s fine, Jayce, really…” you mumbled, holding the blueprint close to your face, the paper nearly touching your nose. “I just need to brute force through this, I’ll get it eventually…”

He raised an eyebrow in suspicion, not believing your words. Then his expression softened as he saw your face. You were holding back tears, the liquid pooling right along the edges of your eyes. They looked red and puffy, same with your nose, he got the hint that you were probably crying way before he came into the room. He frowned at the sight, shifting his weight so he was now standing up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“There’s something obviously wrong,” he started, placing his hand on the back of your chair. His voice was soft as he spoke. “You can tell me anything… you know that, right?” 

That was the moment your tears started to spill, flowing down your cheeks. You dropped the blueprint back onto the table as you buried your head down into your hands.

“I don’t get how any of this works, Jayce - I’ve tried so h-hard to understand, I… I should know how this works…” you breathed out between quiet sobs, muffled from your hands being latched to your face. Jayce placed a comforting hand on your shoulder as you shook. “Maybe I’m not cut out to be here… I should have just gone into the family business like m-my parents wanted…!” 

“Don’t say that!” Jayce cut in, quickly going to another bench and pulling up a chair so he could sit next to you on your level. He placed his hand back on your shoulder. “It’s okay to not understand things - I know you pick new things up quick, but it’s okay to be confused. You can’t be a perfectionist at everything, no one can.” 

You slowly turned your head to look over to him, the sight of your tear-stained face breaking his heart. “If I can’t get this right, then what’s t-the point? Everyone else seemed to know w-what they were doing… I don’t want people to think I’m stupid…”

“You’re far from stupid!” Jayce’s eyebrows furrowed together at hearing your words. “I’ve seen what you can do - all the amazing things you managed to make when we were kids! You impress me so, so much with your skill and creativity! There’s some things even I can’t do that you pull off effortlessly! Hell, you’re probably one of the smartest ones here!” 

You sniffled and wiped your nose with the back of your hand. You opened your mouth to speak, but Jayce spoke up once again, your mouth snapping shut.

“I won’t allow you to beat yourself up - you have so much potential! I know you do, because I’ve seen it first hand! Sure, sometimes things won’t click straight away. But I’ve seen how hard you work. If I believe in you, I know you can do it. You’ve got a brilliant mind you need to use for good!”

Silent at first, you weren’t sure how to take all of this in. Your eyes looked up at Jayce’s face, he looked so confident in his words. While you didn’t one hundred percent believe what he was saying just yet, his little speech did make you feel at least a little bit better. But only just a little bit.

“Thank you, Jayce… and, I’m sorry for ugly crying in front of you,” you let out a cough as you sniffled, using the back of your hand to wipe your face. “I think I just bottled up the frustration and it just… exploded.”

Jayce released his hand from your shoulder and pulled out a white handkerchief from his back pocket, bringing it up to your face to swipe at your eyes and cheeks. “I can’t bear to see you pull yourself down like that - you can do so much, and I want to see you do your best. You have so much potential you haven’t acted on yet.” The handkerchief was embroidered on its edge, the frills fluttering gently against your skin. The soft touch was starting to feel ticklish on your face as you scrunched up your nose, leaning back in your chair. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle.

“Jayce, seriously - I can clean myself up,” you spoke as you waved a hand in front of your face in dismissal, but Jayce’s face started to light up with a happy grin. You could see the gears turning in his head. “No, no Jayce, don’t get any ideas.” You warned, but your tone wasn’t serious by any means. 

“Sorry, it’s a bit too late for that.” As soon as he spoke, his hands darted to your sides, ticklishly wiggling into your skin. You let out a loud laugh, hands gripping onto his wrists to stabilise yourself. 

When you got upset when you were younger, tickling you was always Jayce’s way to make you feel better. He would tickle you silly, until you couldn’t even recall what made you upset in the first place. Though, he hadn’t had to do it in a long time - since you’ve just been letting everything negative emotion bottle up inside you.

His fingers continued their onslaught on your sides, scribbling up and down, up and down. You cackled as you threw your head back, hitting it against the back of the chair. Jayce let out a laugh of his own, a bright smile on his own face. “You needed this; I just know you did.” He teased you as he switched things up, one of his hands moving to prod at your stomach. You burst out with more laughter.

“Jayce— ahahaha!! Quit it!!” You exclaimed through your laughter, your cheeks growing red. Jayce just shook his head with a smirk etched on his face.

“Not until you’re feeling better. After all, isn’t laughter the best medicine?” Jayce commented as his wandering hands switched things up once again, managing to slip between your arms to attack your poor ribs. Your grip on his wrists tightened, nearly digging into the skin with your nails. You shook your head about, you were extra sensitive on your ribs.

The laughs that Jayce drew from you started to grow hiccupy, making you sound similar to a hyena. Jayce couldn’t help himself and laughed alongside you. But you were hitting a limit, and Jayce could tell, as tears — tears of happiness and joy — started rolling down your face to replace the tears of sadness that stained your face mere minutes before. “I-It’s— hehehEHEHE! Too much, Jahahahayce!” You begged through your laughter.

Jayce didn’t want to push you any further than what you were comfortable with, so he slowed to a stop, placing a hand on top of your head to ruffle your hair. You reached up with your own two hands to place on top of his, groaning with a laugh. “See, what wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Ugh, shut up,” you mumbled as you pushed his hand off of your head, standing up from your seat, Jayce doing the same. “Well, staying here anymore won’t do me any good.” You spoke up, getting an idea as you looked at Jayce. “If I still can’t figure this out tomorrow… would you maybe come and help me if you’re not busy with your research?” 

Jayce’s eyes crinkled up with joy as he nodded his head. You very rarely ask for help, so knowing you’re coming to him of all people for assistance made his heart swell. “Of course - I’m glad you’re asking for my help,” he placed a hand on your back, and with a little push, you both started to walk towards the room’s exit. “Hey, let’s get something to eat before we go home. My treat.” His shining smile beamed down onto you as you looked up to him.

“Sounds like a plan.” You responded with your own small smile and a laugh as you both walked out. You felt much better already, you decided you’d ask for help much more often. It felt better to let everything out.

[classicslesbianopinions]

oh by the way my tumblr classics community got approved and i literally didn't have the mental energy to do anything about it but if you want to join it reply here and i'll add you. it maxes out at 500 people because this is a functional website but i'll add everyone i can.

[cinnabuncrumbs]

if trump wins this election i WILL personally be regarding everyone that told me they weren't going to vote with distain. because of the system or whatever . you dumb fuck. you arent going to break the system by not voting youre just gonna make it worse for everyone else because not voting is not overthrowing the system. people who try to argue that "not voting isnt a vote for trump" are fucking stupid and im sick and tired IT IS !!! TRUMP VOTERS ARENT GOING TO NOT VOTE FOR TRUMP. if you disagree with harris on her views of israel thats fine because i do too but good lord letting trump win wont help. because he'll make that worse and also literally everything else. if you didnt vote and you couldve i dont like you

[camthecatchameleon]

heh heh heh heh heh

i have no idea what game they’re playing but it’s probably not chess

[hiimcanadia]

It really is crazy how terfism has made people so suspicious of feminism as a whole. You can literally make a post saying something as basic as "it is bad when women are sexually assaulted" and some people will immediately start investigating you to see if you're a transphobe. terfs have successfully worked their way into people's minds and made them, either consciously or subconsciously, associate feminism with transphobia. They've convinced people that the only way to be a feminist is to be a transphobe as well, and that all feminists are therefore the enemy. It's almost impressive, for how terrifying it is.

Idk really what the solution to this is, because I do think it's important to be proactive in shutting down transphobic sentiments in leftist spaces. I have definitely seen posts that are very carefully worded and filled with the right buzzwords to slip under the radar, that nonetheless carry deeply harmful implications if you examine the trail of thought for too long. But I've also seen people get put on blacklists for not making their point perfectly clear, despite a long documented history of supporting trans people (or sometimes even being trans themselves!) Its just a really fucking tough situation to be in, I think

[pinkyjulien]

I love seeing peoples VP style blooming through the year(s), I deadass legit think everyone has their own distinctive style in the way they take and share VP 🤌

[isa-ah]

watching twitch go back on their new regulations on content warning streams that discuss "politically sensitive topics" to say it won't affect "lived experiences" and is only applicable if it's the "focus" of the stream ..... I'm sure nothing could possibly go wrong with that. 👍

[iholli]

me when all my selfships are very popularly shipped with other characters (I hate canon sharing)

[unironicallytes]

Ch03 of Dear Brother is up~

In this chapter: we explore Lucien and Zath's very messy dynamic, we learn about a Saint in the Brotherhood faith, and we understand a tiny bit more about why that Hand meeting was really, really stressful.