#an unprompted reflection

[finalset]

I love drawing <3 I just bought some rainbow pencils that I’m excited to use and incorporate in my art. I’ve been having so much fun since I let myself do smaller artworks in my sketchbook instead of big fully shaded pieces or nothing.

[jils-things]

me when i stop caring too hard

[fullscoreshenanigans]

(TPN Light Novel 2: Moms’ Song of Remembrance - “The Starry Sky and Leslie’s List”)

Something of interest to me is how it seems like there’s a 50/50 divide on whether Ray would ever sing Isabella’s (/Leslie’s) lullaby after leaving Grace Field; enjoy seeing everyone’s different stances on it.

[sapientiiae]

Once again, they found themselves in the gardens, watching the sun set over the horizon. Again, his hand twined with hers, fingers lacing together warmly and keeping her close. But this time, Clive turned to her, cupping her cheek with his free hand, tilting her head up to his ever so gently. And then he pressed a gentle kiss upon her lips, letting it linger for a short moment before pulling back just a bit, his nose gently nudging hers.

While the castle gardens had always been a place of serenity for the Princess of Hyrule, a place visited in solitude so she could breathe and clear her mind, it was nice to not always be alone when visiting a place she favored. To know the gardens was no longer a refuge solely for herself but instead for them made something stir in her chest she could not quite describe. 

The pair sat perched on the edge of the stone fountain, watching as the sun began to bow below the horizon, a cloak of coral, lilac, and buttercup billowing behind it to shroud the sky.

Clive’s hand was warm within her own, the male having reached for it again once they stepped out into the fresh air to begin their stroll through the gardens. They’d walked with their fingers intertwined, the warmth of his skin radiating into her own, providing a level of comfort that only the gardens themselves had ever done. It was this comfort and the way he’d held her hand that encouraged the Hylian maiden to sit so close, nestled into his side when they’d stopped at the water fountain to watch the sun set. 

His body was like a protective wall that she leaned against, firm and secure, allowing the princess to feel safe at his side. Luckily, he hadn’t seemed to mind the close proximity — Nayru no, he seemed to encourage it by keeping his hold on her hand, the two sitting in a comfortable silence as the sun dipped lower and lower. 

It was out of her peripheral that Zelda noticed the man move. She’d been about to turn and face him, perhaps even ask what it was he was thinking, but his free hand reached her cheek before she could turn or say anything. The caress of his hand was gentle, his calloused touch soft against her smooth flesh. He moved so carefully, not applying too much force as he coaxed her to look towards him, guiding her to lift her chin. 

Briefly did her blue topaz eyes meet sapphires, gaze softening just before Clive leaned in, pressing his lips to her own. It was such a delicate kiss, though the touch left butterflies dancing in her stomach despite how light and fleeting it was. That kiss, however brief, made her heart slam against its cage, and while she would have liked for that kiss to continue, she instead settled for still having him close. 

Inhaling a shaky breath, Zelda’s forehead pressed to his as she felt the tip of his nose brush against the side of hers. 

“I shall forever thank the Goddesses for bringing you to Hyrule…” 

[pumpking64]

anxiety logic is a weird thing.

i have this problem where if i’m lying in bed in the evening and hear a helicopter or a plane flying relatively low outside i will be convinced it’s an air attack and the only thing that works is to wait it out until the sound is gone.

and that’s one of the reasons i want to move out of the city centre. because why would an air attack be on a village instead of a big city?

like logically speaking there shouldn’t even be an air attack in the first place, we’re not at war. but that logic doesn’t work for me. the completely made-up hypothesis, however, that air attacks wouldn’t be on the outskirts of the city? that logic works

[ariveth]

honestly tho, Ariveth is an extremely flawed woman before and even after Solstheim.

she prioritises her own goals at times even over human life. she almost always rushes in headfirst without considering consequences to herself or others. she will manipulate others/situations for her own gain. disregards criticism even when she knows it's the truth, because it's more comfortable and less confronting to simply agree but never actually apply a change. her compulsion to keep friends and lovers at arm’s length almost always hurts them and damages the relationships irrevocably. she’ll usually take the path of least resistance when ‘solving’ problems, which often causes a new problem in the original’s stead.

even when her intentions are good, her execution usually sucks.

[snistr]

I think I've had a weird sort of epiphany.

I think I've come to the realization that I'm not so much into race play, but just generally degrading relations between interracial couples. Like, degradation and humiliation is all well and good, and like some of the power dynamics could be interesting... but beyond that, I can't really vibe with it. Dirty talk is fun, but like... slurs? Nah, I can't go there.

I guess the best way I can abbreviate this is... I can do mild race play, but not like overt or aggressive racism.

[andivmg]

My experience with Luke (Punz)

CW: toxic relationship, racism, dubious consent

I know in the past i said that i would no longer speak about him publicly, and when talking about my experiences with abuse and emotional mistreatment i begged to keep it anonymous but after reflecting on this for a week and seeing so many incredibly smart and strong women tell their stories. they have given me the strength to say his name.

this is really scary to talk about because of the copious levels of harassment i have received from his fans in the past so if this spreads or gets out of hand i will simply log off.

If you read my last post, i nicknamed him 1.

So aside from everything i said there, there were a lot of things i didn’t include because they would’ve made it obvious that it was him and it could potentially backfire on me so, i’m very afraid to post this. but i’m going to do it scared anyway, because it’s not fair that he gets to just go and live his life worry-free as if he didn’t practically ruin mine.

Because I already made a very lengthy post about him, i won’t include everything i said last time to avoid being redundant but if i repeat myself, please bear with me.

In our year long relationship i had to endure emotional neglect, gaslighting, verbal abuse, one instance where there was dubious consent, and much more.

Starting off at the beginning of our relationship, that’s when i was getting copious amounts of hate and harassment from his fan base (warranted or not), he decided that our relationship must be kept private. he said it was to “protect” me from his fanbase when in reality it was to protect himself. it was so he wouldn’t get all the backlash i was getting. this is funny because one of the things i got called out for was saying the B slur (derogatory term used against mexicans/latinos). I won’t get into the nuances of if i could say it or not as a puertorican because that’s discourse that does not pertain to this specific situation. But you know who definitely can’t say it? A white boy from Massachusetts. When i was getting cancelled for this and getting thousands of tweets calling me names, he decided that was the perfect time to say “I mean you are a b***** aren’t you? my little b*****.” Now, he said this completely unprompted. I was in the process of writing my apology and he just said that. I tell you this because i immediately shut him down and told him that there was no universe in which it was okay for him to say that word and especially not one where he could just call me that. While i was reprimanding him, he was smiling and laughing. he apparently found it amusing to call me a slur. regardless, he gave me a half-assed apology and said he wouldn’t do it again. and he didn’t. but this wasn’t the only time he was weirdly racist to me. this was my first time being in an interracial relationship so i was led to believe that this was normal by all the white people around me at the time. But, sometimes my spanish accent would come out and he would make fun of me and the way i pronounced some words. He also refused to visit me in Puerto Rico when i lived there or come meet my family when i really wanted him to because he “didn’t like the heat” or “it’s dangerous there isn’t it?”. Once, while we were watching season 2 of Bridgerton, he implied that the Sharma sisters were “too dark” for him to be attracted to them. This hurt me because they are brown skinned girls. I am a brown skinned girl. Then this, combined with the fact that he told me once he wasn’t attracted to me made me feel like my skin color was unattractive. These are only a few examples i can think of at the moment, but i’m sure there were more. Our relationship ended in 2022 so some of my memory is a bit hazy. But, I do remember feeling inferior to him throughout the relationship because he was white and I was not. I chalk that up to all the micro aggressions i had to deal with because i had never felt that way around white people before.

Another thing i had to endure was him constantly making me feel like he was embarrassed to be with me. Because i was cancelled, he didn’t want to associate with me too much. He did defend me on multiple occasions, I’ll give him that. But, he only did it because his name was getting dragged in the mud along with mine. Excusing my actions made him look better for being around me. In reality he didn’t really care. Because he was such a big content creator and someone i looked up to professionally, I took his advice as law. He told me to tone down my personality, to keep a low profile, to change things about myself to be more palatable to his audience. The same audience that spoke about me like “The pussy can’t be that good punz please stop defending her”. So i changed a lot of things about myself and my content to better suit what his audience liked. He made me feel like if his audience liked me, he would be public about our relationship and stop hiding it. He told me the reason why he wanted to keep our relationship a secret was because he didn’t want to get hate for it. But this wasn’t true. On my 20th birthday he went to Las Vegas for a twitch rivals event. That night i asked to facetime him to say goodnight and he refused because he was at a hotel room with his friends and he didn’t want them to know that we were together. It was as if my mere presence or the utterance of my name was a source of embarrassment for him. And he didn’t let me forget it. It wasn’t just a public thing at that point. He didn’t want people to know we were together, period. This was devastating to me because I would talk to all my friends about him. I was so proud to be with him and I was just one more problem to him. He made me feel so small and insignificant just because his fans didn’t like me.

He would berate me a lot. Not just due to getting heat online, although he did do that a lot. But in general whenever we would get into an argument or a disagreement he would always call me names like annoying or weird or stupid. He would raise his voice at me if i did something he didn’t like and call me an idiot. And that really hurt, i felt like i couldn’t bring up anything or do anything without getting insulted. If I hadn’t seen him in a few days because he was too busy streaming and i asked to hang out he would call me needy, clingy, and annoying. Granted, he might not have been wrong, but that is not something you say to someone you claim to love. He also insulted me when i was in depressive episodes. I have BPD and at the time i was not being treated properly for it. So, I was all over the place emotionally and he was what i clung to for validation, reassurance, and love. I talked to him when we first started dating about my disorder and told him that if it seemed like something he couldn’t handle that he could opt out of the relationship. I guess he didn’t think it was that bad or something idk because whenever i had really bad depressive episodes, he would tell me I was too sad to hang out with. He said that my sadness was a burden to him. Which would be fair. But, once my mother had a conversation with him about me. She told him that i am someone who needs a lot of love and caring. She said that if he wasn’t willing to put in that kind of effort into a relationship to just leave me alone. He reassured her that he would be there for me no matter what. He told my mother that he would protect me and my heart. He did not. He took all the warnings I gave him and ignored them and then made me feel like I was the problem. And even worse, he would say that i was pretending to be sad to get his attention when he would neglect for days at a time.

There were also some smaller things like the fact that he made me feel really guilty whenever he would spend money on me. Also, he would be really mean about my eating habits. For context, i used to suffer from an eating disorder. I was anorexic and had a really unhealthy relationship with food during high school and my first year of uni. This relationship began when i was recovering from my ED. For me, eating was really hard. So i had certain comfort foods that, while sometimes unhealthy, at least it was something to eat when i didn’t feel like eating anything. He knew this. Yet, whenever i would crave some of these foods he would call me fat. Constantly told me I’d gain weight from eating all that junk food. Saying that to someone with an eating disorder is crazy. Other smaller things were that whenever I would post tiktoks where i was lip syncing or just looking good he would yell at me and say i was looking for attention. Same with Instagram or Twitter whenever i would post photos where I looked hot. He never planned out a single date for us. I would beg him to get me flowers and he did maybe once but i’ll get into that in a bit. He would make fun of me in front of his friends to make himself look better. He let his friends say really degrading things about me in his presence. For example, once when i was showering, i overheard him on a discord call with George and Sapnap and i heard George say “if you don’t go in the shower and have sex with Andi, i will”. Once, when i was really struggling with my legs (for those of you who don’t know, i have arthritis and it’s very painful. at the time i wasn’t diagnosed but i was in a lot of pain) I literally could not walk. I had to beg him to take me to the ER because i didn’t know what was wrong with me. He didn’t want to take me but eventually i convinced him, and while we were there all he did was complain about how long it was taking and that he would have rather been at home streaming. Whenever I would talk about my interests that i was excited about like shows or books he would be incredibly uninterested and say that those things were stupid and he didn’t want to hear about them. I know all of these seem very silly or superficial but cumulatively it was awful.

Now for arguably the most serious thing i’m going to talk about. I want to preface this by saying i am just telling my side of what happened. You can come to your own conclusions about this.

On April 25, 2022 it was our one year anniversary, and i had made a dinner reservation for us. I expected him to plan something throughout the day for us to do. He told me he was going to spend the whole day playing Valorant so I got upset and cancelled the reservation. After a very heated argument, we calmed down and i asked him to come over. He came over about an hour later with flowers and drinks (I was 20 at the time so I couldn’t buy the drinks myself). He brought Smirnoffs and Trulys. For context, I am a lightweight. I always have been. I literally get tipsy on half a cocktail. And that day, I hadn’t eaten anything because i was in distress over our argument. So we get to talking and drinking. I blacked out after my second Smirnoff. Apparently I drank 3 but I genuinely cannot remember anything after finishing the second one. The next morning i woke up naked in my bed. I woke him up and asked him “Luke, why am I naked?” and he said “Because you didn’t want to put your clothes back on.” When I clarified to him that that was not what I meant, he got defensive and said that he didn’t realize how drunk I was. He proceeded to tell me that I initiated sex with him and that i was very enthusiastic about it. He said he didn’t know i could black out on three smirnoffs. He made fun of me for being a lightweight and continued to make light of the situation. Then he mentioned that i fell off the bed at some point in the night and that it was funny how drunk I was. I then questioned him. Because if he thought that me tripping and falling off the bed because i was so drunk was funny, how did he not know that i was too drunk? He responded by saying that i fell off the bed only after we were done. That day I broke up with him. I’m still really confused about what happened that night. I don’t remember anything and all I have to go on is what he said to me. We were in a relationship at the time and he says he didn’t know how drunk I was so I’m not sure what to call what happened. A while after that day, his friend that hmu while we were broken up and I started talking again and i confided in him about that night. He told me to be careful saying things like that because they could get me into trouble. I spoke to some of our other friends about it and they told me it was no big deal and that it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know how drunk I really was. Because I don’t remember, I have been led to believe that this is not a serious matter. You can think what you want, come to whatever conclusions you want. That is just my side of the story.

I want to add that I’m not proud of how I acted after the relationship ended. I felt really angry at all the shit he put me through and I guess a part of me wanted him to hurt even a quarter of how I did. So I started talking to his friend and got involved with him. This backfired on me because his friend ended up really hurting me too so ig i got my karma. But the thing that hurt the most is that because of what I did, some of our friends took his side in the break up. I was told that I did something terrible by getting involved with his friend that he was already insecure about and that he didn’t deserve that. These are the same friends who were witness to the dumpster fire of a relationship we had and all the things he did to me. They turned their backs on me because of this one thing I did. But stood by and watched as he treated me like garbage for over a year.

I will conclude this by saying that while this relationship has been “over and done with” for almost two years now, I carry a lot of trauma from it still. I still talk about him in therapy and have had to put in a lot of work to heal from what he did and i still cannot say that i am okay. I am very blessed to now have a patient and understanding partner who has helped me heal from that trauma and i just want to quickly thank him for that. Nobody deserves to go through what I did. While yes, it was a toxic relationship, and I had a part in that, it does not excuse all the awful things he said and did to me. This is my truth, thank you for taking the time to read it.

[parfaitblogs]

persimmon ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you wake up to your first morning on your honeymoon. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: oral (f receiving). praise. he loves you you love him!!! newlyweds. word count: 1.2k a/n: couldn't tell you where the fuck this came from tbh. very short + very simple little thing i wrote instead of doing assignments after seeing a tweet about persimmons :)

You were beautiful. Maddeningly. Iridescent, as sunlight reflects off your skin and golds the room in which you lay with him. Gentle breaths that lift and deflate your chest evenly, bringing you closer to him, ripping you away soon after. He ached to hold you closer. To the point of your chest never cutting contact with his own. He knew better; knew to let you sleep.

The things he feels for you seem too demanding for a human being. Too overwhelming. How can one man hold so much adoration for another person? His heart was always so full when he woke up like this; before you did.

Things were more beautiful today, though. The ring around your finger, for you had refused to take it off despite his efforts, sparkled amongst crinkled white sheets. Legs entangled with his own, skin resting against skin, warm enough to provide an enormous amount of comfort. 

Never one to curse unnecessarily, Spencer Reid was. Yet, all his thoughts were consumed with, fuck you were beautiful. 

It seemed too inconsequential of a word to describe you. Every word did. A thousand adjectives and he would still believe he's not loving you as much as you deserve. 

You stir, and his entire bloodstream burns. He couldn't count on his hands how many times he had watched you wake up in the morning, but this morning was so special, and before you had even fully fluttered your eyes open, he was kissing you. Gently, for he wanted to take his time with you. 

You're smiling. He can feel your lips stretch against his, and he's proud to have enough self restraint to pull away from you so he could see it. He's sure the sun could develop a rivalry with you when you were this happy. 

"Good morning," you murmur, a little breathless from the half asleep kiss you were still trying to recover from, "husband."

He relishes in the way the word leaves your lips, and it takes a considerable amount of strength to not kiss you once more. Though, he wants to. Desperately. 

Then again, he wishes to do a lot of things this morning. So many different activities he yearns for (many of them not very appropriate, if he's honest), and he is quite content to cancel the schedule you had developed for today to complete them. 

He knows better than to do that unprompted. So, he asks, "How much time in bed do we have?"

Perhaps it was the way he looks at you while he's above you, hair falling down and gently tickling your face from how close he was. Perhaps it was your own personal desires seeping into your strong willed mind. Whatever it was, you were probably on the same wavelength as him, and you were discarding whatever else you wanted to do that day. 

"As much as we want," you reply, and it's a shit-eating grin on his face that promises you a good morning. 

"Thank God."

Never one to be religious, you know he's wanton if he's thanking a figure he doesn't believe in. You bite down a remark about it. 

Amongst all the doctorates he had attached to his name, you were sure worshipping your body had to be one of them. For the way he kisses down your body is practised, and it is a trail of flames he leaves on your skin. Benign kisses on every patch of skin he can find, paying extra attention to the pulse point on your neck that drags whimpers from your lips. 

Fingers find your thighs to push them apart, hands sliding up and down the skin and encouraging goosebumps to lift. He is breathless as he laughs at you, but then he is pressing kisses into your hip bones, and you truly forget how to argue with him. 

"I love you," he says, lifting his gaze up to you, breath warm against your skin, all whilst his head lowers further down your body. He presses a kiss to each thigh, repeating the adoring phrase in between. 

Wasting no time to put his lips on you, he's teasing with his tongue licking a stripe up the centre of your folds, before he's attaching them to your clit. 

He probably mumbles something about how good you taste, as he usually does, but you're too overwhelmed already to actually register the words. For you had been inside the cabin David Rossi had gotten the two of you less than twelve hours, and he had drawn four orgasms from you already. Something about spending your honeymoon loving you in every way he can. 

You're writhing beneath him already, and he's sure if he focusses any more on that, he'd lose his mind. His tongue flicking over your clit elicits more moans from you, and the broken sound of your voice. 

"Spenc—er—oh," your head digs into the pillow beneath it, back arching. "Please."

Usually, he would force your hips back to the mattress, and he would concern himself with keeping you still. Then again, usually, you aren't this sensitive. He lets you lift yourself off the mattress, though he moves with you, and you're provided no respite from his mouth.

He's never once eaten you out with this much tranquility; he likes to devour you like you are his first meal in months. But today, he is taking his time, and he is dragging out every quiet moan and cry from your throat that he possibly can. 

Persimmons can sometimes be so incredibly tender they split themselves open. The osmotic pressure that is built up by the sugar tends to cause the skin to burst. When he touches you like this, you consider whether or not you are but a tender persimmon, splitting under the duress of how good he feels. 

"My beautiful girl," he breathes out against you, and God if you believe nothing else in this world, let it be how much this man loves you. 

His hand reaches up to find your left hand, interlacing your fingers with his own and bringing them both down to your stomach, where he finally pushes you back down onto the mattress. 

You are too tired to even warn him, but your moaning becomes incessant, and your fingers are digging into the knuckles of his hand within your own. You're sure you don't need to say anything.

He coaxes you through your orgasm, obscene praise leaving his lips every chance he gets, his eyes so fixated on your face you can feel it, even through your now closed eyelids. 

He's pulling away and kissing his way back up your body, each kiss more drawn out than the last, until he's got his lips back on your own, and he's swallowing the gentle moan that leaves your lips. 

"I love you," you finally murmur, and he pulls back to bury his face into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin there so delicately you wonder if you could fall apart all over again, for an entirely different reason. 

"I love you," he punctuates his words with his hand squeezing your own, which he still had interlaced with his. 

"Can I cut our bed time short for a shower?" you ask him, quietly. 

"Mm," he considers it, or pretends to, hair tickling your jawline. "No, I'm not done with you here yet."

"You're insatiable."

You squirm when he nips at your neck. "You married me."

He pulls back to look at you, eyes sparkling, and you breathe out a quiet huff of amused laughter. 

"Yeah, I did."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[sulfies]

I do think Altair, Ezio and Connor be mortified by the concept of Animus but At first they would probobly think that its funny, like Ezio would be going "so you just lie down, watch us go about and wake up with our skills?.... Thats cheating!!!" Altair would be prob a bit salty. Connor would wish he had that of an easy time training.

Then they learn its not like "lying down and resting while animus does the work" at all;

Desmond wakes w muscle spasms and phantom pains from injuries he never got. He has chronic insomnia because his sense of time has been blinded so much he is basically jetlagged 24/7. He doesnt remember how long a day is supossed to go, how slow a month passes, how decades indeed take decades. He has backpain from lying down all day without being able to move, then his muscles protest when he has to move out of animus because thats the only time he used them. He forgets to eat, sit, drink, shower till someone tells him because he didnt have to in animus. He is shocked when people speak to him unprompted because there was always a reason for someone to talk to him first in animus.

Then they learn about his bleeds, how he became a puzzle of their skillset but also their minds. How he forgets his likes and dislikes because he has been others daily, longer than he has been himself in a while. He forgets where he is, if he is supossed to be there, if what he is seeing is supossed to be there. He forgets his name sometimes, replies to anything but his own even if the person is in the room as well. How he freaks out when he sees his reflection sometimes, remembering it as a strangers face. How he sees and talks to things that arent there but maybe was or will be.

They learn he isnt even himself sometimes, cant remember how to be. He doesnt know if he is mad at someone because he doesnt like them or if its Others feelings bleeding. They learn some of his own memories been forever replaced by their own and he doesnt even realize he never met that person only Connor has met before. He cant remember the day his mom got him his 5th birthday gift but Ezio's 5th birthday and his new gift of a carved horse figure is fresh in his mind. He doesnt remember his girlfriend from when he was 19 but he remembers Altaïr's one crush that lasted a week. He cant remember if he ever tried a dish but knows if one of them would like it based on the ingridients. He cant remember faces of his classmates at the farm but knows the novices names by heart.

They learn while they might have sacrificed their bodies and years for their training Desmond has sacrificed his whole self for it.

And it doesnt seem like cheating anymore.

[jupiter-letters]

I can't stop thinking about Dad Jayce

(Modern-AU sort of)Jayce Talis x Fem!Reader TW: Pregnancy-mention

A/N: I've held this in for 4 days now I need to get it out. He'd be such a fantastic dad omfg, I'm giving him at least 10. This is gonna be kinda quick and not really proofread sorry y'all.) Divider Link

Jayce is already a pretty touchy guy while you're dating but imagine what a monster he turns into when you guys get married. He acts so sickly sweet with you every moment you're together. He likes to jokingly treat you like royalty, doing a slight bow when you enter a room.

The theatrics get worse when he finds out you're expecting, he won't you do anything till you tell him off. You get up in the morning? He's bringing you breakfast. You just wanna walk around the house, he'll carry you around instead. You're not moving around without him he just acts like a lunatic about it. This is your pregnancy it's OUR pregnancy. If you have nausea, it's OUR nausea. If you're feet hurt, OUR feet hurt, he stops what he's doing to rub your feet and ankles.

Now when the delivery date comes you're relatively calm about it but Jayce is actively losing his mind. Along the course of your pregnancy he has created a very detailed plan on how everything will go. In that moment thought he's floundering, he forgets all the steps and counter measures. He eventually abandons the plan and calls his mom to coach him through everything.

Once the hard part is over it's relatively smooth sailing from there. Jayce ends up completely whipped, regardless of the child's sex he's locked in. Whatever they want he'll get it for them. It makes him so emotional seeing them get older and they start looking more like you. Even though they are a new person he still loves them because they're a piece of you.

Jayce prefers the baby be in your shared bedroom just to keep a closer eye on them, 9/10 he's the one to put them back to sleep when they get fussy at night. During the day he'll always have them in his arms, talking to them about his job or some article he read the other day. He loves just talking to the baby, he likes the baby talk but seeing him have a full on conversation with the baby is hilarious.

He loves showing off the baby to his friends and literally anybody who gives him the time of day. He's got a bunch of pics of you and the baby in his wallet. Sometimes he'll just do it completely unprompted, "Viktor check out this new onesie I got for my son/daughter." He'll post pics in the groupchat with Caitlyn and Vi, he'll send them at least 5 every day.

The child does end up becoming a tiny bit spoiled, Jayce can be firm but the sight of one tear will make him fold. Over the years he gets better at it but when they hit him with the "I hate you daddy!" He gets so depressed he'll sit in his room like this:

Fortunately being the good parents you are, they don't get super bratty very often and are pretty chill. They inherited that go getter attitude from Jayce and it's interesting for him seeing that reflected back at him.

[maxlarens]

pairing(s): lando norris x driver!reader

okay haven't teased this anywhere but i needed a little warm up to get back into writing as i basically haven't written a full sentence in a week. it has felt like so much longer tbh😭 (hmm also this is a driver!reader AU? like rb driver!reader)

Lucky. Lucky.

You��re supposed to feel lucky that you’ve been accepted into this apparently exclusive boys club. That’s what people tell you (unprompted) at least. You’re supposed to be glad that Mad Max Verstappen has accepted you as one of his own. Hasn’t shunted you to the side in favour of a more experienced teammate.

You’re supposed to be glad that he’s also accepted you into his social circle. This place you were never supposed to be, that no one ever expected you to be.

And you are. You are.

Max is a good friend. Charles, Alex, George too. You’re a fairly fresh rookie, you’re a girl, and it’s nice to be accepted so readily into this space. It’s not all smooth sailing, but they’re kind, supportive, always ready to offer advice, for the most part.

It’s just—

well, Lando.

You’d not quite realised the depth of his friendship with Max. The amount of stuff he’d also be invited to. Nights out, dinners, Discord calls, late night iRacing sessions, pádel—

Always pádel,

and here’s the thing. You have to go.

It’s competitive, you’re keeping score. You’ve never ever been any good at backing down from a fight. It’s simply not an option to flake or give up entirely just because you hate Lando Norris’ guts. That would be showing weakness, that would basically be rolling over and showing your fucking belly.

You’re not weak. You’re not a coward.

So you’re here.

Knees bent, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Padel racket discarded on the court next to you. Lando and his Max have won. You’re tired and you’re sweaty and you’re pissed. Honestly, you’d rather not have your Max as a teammate. He sucks. Plain and simple. He’s four lanky limbs bouncing around the court with utterly no coordination. He’s too focused on the ball, so much that he forgets about the walls and the net and you. You’d taken at least two tumbles after he’d knocked into you today. No harm no foul, but you’re too competitive to be happy with him currently.

If you had to pick anyone as a teammate it would honestly have to be

Lando.

You can see his sneakers, somehow McLaren branded, in your peripheral vision. You sigh, tip your head back to look up at him, trying to stymie the scowl on your lips.

“Good game,” he holds a hand out to help you up, a tight little smirk on his face because he knows how you feel about losing.

You roll your eyes, take the hand anyway. Not bothering to wipe your hand free of sweat and letting him heave as much of your weight as possible.

“Yeah,” you bite, “Might’ve won if playing with Verstappen wasn’t like dragging dead weight.”

He lets out a laugh, rare from him when he’s around you. Looks at you, almost through his dark eyelashes, green eyes bright, reflective in the light, like he’s—

You stifle that thought before it can bloom into anything that might get away from you.

His particularly long canine pokes out from his upper lip, you watch him suppress a smile. Think for a moment about how you might not mind if one of his smiles were directed at you. You bite down on your tongue, curl a hand into a fist, your fingernails digging into your palm.

“Y’know,” he says, shoulders rolling with a kind of nervous energy, his face betraying nothing of it, “I reckon we’d be a good team. Especially against the Maxes’. We’d thrash ‘em I bet.”

You raise an eyebrow, stare at him a little dumbfounded for a little too long. So long that he opens his mouth to backtrack, to make a snide remark, something.

You shake your head, shrug, “Yeah. I guess. Might work if we didn’t hate each other.”

“Dunno,” he answers, rubbing his chin, “Might work anyway. Wouldn’t hate you so much if you made me a winner.”

You feel like something sharp hits you in the chest, leaves you a little winded. You try to let it roll off your back, hum evenly in response, “Mm, touché, Norris.”

He sends you another smirk, a punchy thing that makes you feel like your insides are on fire. Leaves you burning.

short i know! but it was just a warm up😭 hope u guys enjoyed anyway, i’ll def write more of them one day!!! rivals to lovers is delish🥰 also ugh it felt so good to write something ive been missing it

[justblades]

┈── ⟣ tracing their tacet marks! scar, jiyan, & aalto

notes: fluff & slight crack, reader is rover, gender neutral! reader. inspired by this tweet, not proofread.

SCAR : with feather touches, you trail the lines of the tacet mark on his neck with your thumb, drawing zig zag lines to follow its outline. his lips were sewn shut the first second, but gradually lets loose as he realizes what you were doing.

"having fun, rover?" he queries with a growing smirk carved on his lips, heterochromic eyes of solferino red and slate gray hues carefully watching yours as your vision anchors to the end of the mark on his neck.

the male then wraps his dominant hand around your wrist, much to your surprise and proceeds to inch closer, rubbing his scarred, sunken cheek on the back of your hand. the same smile still carved upon his features, a tranquil atmosphere envelops the two of you. as if you were put in a trance, his ivory colored locks ripple along the gust of the wind that blows. "i've always known you were a curious one. don't worry, you can always do whatever you'd like to me."

his tone insinuates something different from what he says, as always, he likes to dawdle around words that are more than what meets the eye. yet still, you couldn't help but indulge in a passing moment where silence runs through your system and revel in the fact that you get to do this to scar, who's always, for some reason, unpredictable at times. grateful for your status as a rover, this is a privilege you had come to appreciate in each day that elapses.

you can tell for certain this part of his doesn't receive that much attention, nor affection - evident enough from his expression. he simply closes his eyes, letting everything at the moment unfold naturally with no more unnecessary remarks to be told. "feel free to do whatever makes you happy."

JIYAN : the general gazes solemnly at the vista of infrastructures in the jinzhou city, getting lost at the view as petals of emortia brush softly back and forth on his legs. a strong, gelid wind blows upon your dewed skin, you notice how he hangs his head low, now admiring the bed of flowers where his efforts brought him - a sudden thought lighting up his mind.

he sits down on the field, one leg up and the other resting on the ground. the teal haired then calls to you, "come, sit beside me." voice laced of resolution and velvet, his tone was not of command, but an honest request. you tread towards the general's figure, his broad back and the tacet mark exposure befitting the view in front of you.

curiosity piques your mind, when suddenly, your index finger ghosts a touch on the middle of his mark. a jerk movement erupts as a bodily reflex, his lips part wide from the unanticipated gesture - tassel earrings dangling along his movement as he looks at you with a confused expression painted on his face. "apologies, that was unexpected . . ." he pauses, golden eyes anchoring from your hand to your face. "but i'd like to ask why."

a short silence with no sound but the wind blowing ensues, "your tacet mark's bigger than those i've previously seen. sorry for the unprompted touch like that." you display an apologetic smile, eyes squinted with a hint of begging for the general's mercy. he turns his attention back to jinzhou's breathtaking scenery, feeling the breeze once more with his guard let loose, at least for now.

jiyan flashes you a small smile in return, "no problem. i don't mind." he simply answers. as if you could see every glimmer of light from the city reflecting in his amber eyes, you could get lost at the imagery inside as you proceed to draw the outline of the tacet mark on his back.

a darker color in stark contrast to his fair skin, the view becomes even more beautiful: the general simply lives in the present tranquil moment, perhaps these light touches will serve as a soft reminder that it is alright to rest once a while. after all, being a general is being a bastion of hope and resolution. amidst having a solid, hard resolve, perhaps soft moments and touches will surely melt the toughest heart of depths.

AALTO : "can i touch your tacet mark?" you delve straight to the point and reach out to the side of his neck even though you haven't received an answer yet. goosebumps ride on his skin as he feels the delicate contact follow along the mark's bizarre shape. he feigns composure and turns his head to the opposite side, just so you wouldn't witness him at his vulnerable state.

although the slower you traced on the tacet mark, the more impatience gnawed at his bones and his sensitivity heightens. "w-wait! why are you doing this?" he inquires and takes a step back for a moment, one eyebrow raised, obviously confused at your actions as of late. "i was just wondering if it was sensitive." you reply and step closer to him once more, driving him to a corner where he'd find no refuge from whatever you're planning to do.

suddenly, a gust of wind leaves a silhouette in front of your eyes in a wink, the pseudo figure of him doing a heart pose with both his hands feel like he's poking fun at you. "come on, aalto, just one!" you purposely exclaim. emerging victorious the moment he comes back to the spot, he heaves a dreary sigh. "i suppose it can't be helped."

he stands still and waits for the teasing episode to come to an end. you reach out your index finger and trail your fingertip on his soft skin, paying attention to his body language all at the same to see if there could be any information you could get out of the man - even if it did not appear to be beneficial at all.

the intel broker then peers at you with a bashful look cast on his flaxen irises, feigning obliviousness but the bit lip was clearly an indicator that he's not used to this. watching his poorly stifled expressions, you could not restrain yourself anymore and a chuckle slips from the margins of your lips, "that was surprisingly entertaining." you state as a matter of fact, comical tears about to well up in your eyes.

"shall i trace your tacet mark again next time?" you ask in a rhetorical manner, heart brimming with wonder. "that'd be the last." he says bluntly and takes a swift turn around, proceeding to put on his tinted glasses as a last resort to upkeep his cool guy style.

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

So we all know Hua Cheng could fill thousands upon thousands of pages describing the beauty of his dianxia, how ethereal and perfect he is, and shamelessly tells it to his face, part to tease him, but more to declare his love amd admiration over and over

But Xie Lian is just as down bad, he just gets so embarrassed to say it out loud and he doesn't think he has the skill to put it in writing but he has so much to say about how attractive and perfect Hua Cheng is - and he knows Hua Cheng doesn't think that at all.

Perhaps he has a particularly bad day about his appearance once, and Xie Lian decides this can't do.

But in true Xie Lian fashion, he just. Says it. Unprompted. Out of the blue. No context.

They're cleaning around the shrine? "San Lang, you look so beautiful today, i love what you're wearing."

San Lang nearly trips on his feet and drops a bucket of water on himself on accident.

Taking a stroll through Ghost City? "The light reflects so beautifully in your eye, San Lang."

He almost stepped on a little ghost and he's pretty sure the monsters at the stall across the street are laughing at him.

Cuddling in bed? "Your touch feels so soft, San Lang."

Took all he had not to burst into butterflies.

Hua Cheng turns as red as his robes whenever this happens and becomes so flustered he can't speak - but Xie Lian makes it a point to keep randomly saying it. And doesn't let Hua Cheng off the hook if he says anything but "thank you" because he won't let San Lang sweet talk him and not acknowledge how beautiful he himself is!

[roll-of-royces]

How Hazbin Hotel Characters Respond to Walking In On You Changing:  

(Reader and Character aren't currently in a relationship.)

The door opens unprompted, you shout, reaching for something to cover yourself with. Alastor takes one glance, pivots on heel, muttering, "Disgusting." And closes the door behind him.

"This is why people knock!" You shout after him.

Angel opens the door, pausing in the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the door frame, "Awh baby, for me?" He presses a single hand to the swell of his chest, unbothered by the way you scramble for your clothes.

"Get out!"

He sighs, "I promise I've seen it all before, but if ya' insist." Angel closes the door as he leaves.

"What the fuck is taking you so - " Vox pauses as he bursts through the door. He blinks, a glitch starting in the corner of his screen. "Hurry up and get dressed."

He slams the door closed behind him before you can get so much as a word out.

There's a knock on the door but before you can answer, it opens Charlie poking her head around the edge. Her eyes go wide when she sees you standing there startled. "Sorry!"

She jerks her head back closing the door, "I swear I didn't know you were changing!"

You laugh and call back, "I know, it's okay."

A portal appears in front of you and before you can call out Lucifer steps through and gets an eyeful of your very naked form. He lets out a startled noise that rivals your own.

"Oh Hell! Fuck!" He dives back through the portal as you both shout in horror.

When you don't hear the knock on the door it opens, and Rosie steps inside. She takes a glance at you, and turns her gaze to the wall, politely not looking, "Best hurry up darling or we're going to be late."

You flounder to finish getting dressed as she stands there, eyes caught on the window, that has your fucking reflection.

The door opens abruptly, you squeak throwing your hands over yourself. Sir Pentious shouts, "No! I didn't mean to. Flee! Flee!" He rushes off, leaving the door wide open as you rush to close it, pressing yourself to the wood as you catch your breath.

[physalian]

Introductory character descriptions

Friendly reminder about introductory character descriptions, especially those at the beginning of the book: To avoid it sounding entirely like an exposition dump, give a reason to why the narrator is noticing what either they or another character is wearing.

For example, worked on this first draft last night: 

Iris hauls up her pack and smooths her clammy hands down her skirt. At the time, the pleated corduroy seemed both durable and multipurpose. Her boots, too, knee-high but thick-soled, and her leggings—warm, flexible, already scraped up at the knees. Clothes she could have hanging in her closet without her mother getting suspicious of why they were so different from the rest of her wardrobe. Clothes that are not sprinting-through-the-Sakartan-wilderness attire.

First draft, so, you know. But! Character isn’t just describing what she’s wearing, she’s describing it in relation to how impractical it now is for her environment. It’s motivated exposition.

Shortly thereafter, Iris meets a new person, and describes them as follows:

Did she stumble into an unassuming temple, whole house left in sacrifice and worship of some celestial she can’t begin to name? They don’t look Sakartan, not just in coloring, but in stature, too. Lithe, frightfully thin with gaunt cheeks, a discoloring across their nose like tiny yellow lesions, and Iris has never known a Sakartan with curls. They’re not even dressed like one, wearing something that kind of looks like a high-collared robe, except it’s split up both sides to a wide belt. Leggings, like hers, adorned with leafy lace, and more of it on the edges of the belled sleeves. The black and gold fabric only serve to make them look even more ethereal. Iris flies through her catalog of fashion across the realms, trying to find a home for this displaced god in vain…

I might still trim it down later but it’s 8am on a workday and this is an example post. It’s still a lot of description to throw at the reader, at least in my opinion, but all of it is anchored to the narrator trying to figure out who and what they are and if they’re a threat, not just taking an aside to describe their features unprompted.

—

So whether you’re describing the narrator or someone the narrator is observing, giving the narrator a reason to give this description at this time and some reaction to it pulls double duty: You’re giving exposition, but still telling the story as you tell it. She’s not just describing clothing, she’s describing why it matters right this second and how both serve to hinder the conflicts of the scene.

It's not just clothing, it's impractical clothing, or it's far too bougie for this side of town, or far too fancy for an average school day, or it's all stained and ripped, which reflects the wearer as either destitute or on the run, perhaps. It's motivated.