#i will be incorporating this as much as possible now

[bueckers-sturniolo]

tiktok trends w/ p!

warnings : legit none, just a cutesy little fic i wrote

authors note: im back from the dead. senior year has kicked my ass.

you scroll through tiktok aimlessly, laid on the couch. paige is sitting at the end of it, your feet resting in her lap. she’s looking down at her phone, probably doing the exact same thing that you are. nothing really catches your eye or makes you laugh, until you scroll upon one video — it’s a girl and her boyfriend, and she’s adding ‘the fuck?’ after every sentence she says. question or statement.

you smile, then glance up at paige, trying to think of all of the possible outcomes and what she would think if you tried this on her. would she laugh? or, would she just think you’re an idiot? who cares, honestly? you think it’s funny.

you sit up on the couch, shuffling around till your head is rested upon her shoulder. she smiles a little, immediately moving to wrap an arm around your shoulders to bring you closer.

“whatcha watchin’, p? da fuck?” you say, in a sassy tone. you look down at her phone, cracking a smile almost immediately at the overall silliness of the term, but, you try to remain calm, cool, and collected. she’ll catch on too quick if you laugh.

“oh— nothing, baby. just this video of this girl ranking nba teams…” she says, her voice holding a slight bit of confusion. at least she was still being nice. you smile a little wider, biting your cheek to stifle any laughter while trying to find a way to incorporate the line into your next sentence.

“oh, that’s cool. what team’s has she ranked, da fuck?” you say, lifting your head up to glance up at her. she smiles a little, letting out a quiet chuckle. it was weird to paige, of course. she had never heard you use the phrase ‘the fuck?’ before. especially in such a funny tone.

“the bucks, celtics, heat, and the 76ers so far.” paige says, her tiny smile beginning to morph into a wider one as she awaits your next sentence. she’s just waiting for it, now. damn it, she caught on way too quick.

“who did she rank first, da fuck?” this time, paige glances at you with a ‘side-eye.’ she just stays like this for a moment, trying to think of how to respond to the repetitive phrase.

“the celtics, the fuck?” she says back, smiling, really emphasizing the ‘the fuck?’ this makes you both burst into laughter, her head thrown back like a little kid in her fit of giggles.

“paige— you weren’t supposed to copy me!” you say through your laughing, your hand moving to cover your mouth at how hard you’re laughing. she laughs harder at this, shaking her head.

“i didn’t know why you were doing it, i thought it was our new way of communicating,” paige says, shrugging a tiny shrug, sitting her phone down on the arm of the couch to rub her hands over her face as her laughter eases.

“no, it was just a joke. big idiot.” you say, smiling still, your head shaking side to side. she shakes her own head, her hand finding yours to gently tug you toward her lap. your body finds itself on one of her thighs, your back against her chest. her arm wraps around you, resting a hand on your stomach to keep you steady and close to her. paige was a toucher, for sure.

“i actually thought it was hilarious. maybe we should just start talking like that. everyone will think we’re nuts,” she says in a teasing tone, her hand gently patting your belly. she loved doing that, and you never knew why. this and rubbing it, she loved rubbing your tummy.

“everyone already thinks you’re nuts, p. they wouldn’t think too much of you saying ‘the fuck’ after every sentence.” you reply without missing a beat, smiling a little. truth be told, everyone would be like ‘what the fuck is wrong with her? she never says this.’ if paige started to add it after every statement she makes.

“hey— im not nuts, you’re nuts!” she says, her hand moving up to your side so start gently jabbing at your ribs, beginning to tickle you.

this makes you gasp loudly, hands moving to try and find hers as you begin shouting, ‘paige, paige— no! don’t do this!’

“no, too late. you called me nuts, im gonna show you nuts— not literally, just… figuratively.” she says with a smile, beginning to tickle both of your sides. she loved tickling you, hearing your laugh and squeals as she did so. she just loved touching you in any form, really.

hell, honestly, she just loved you.

a/n: hope you loveddddddddd!

[eldewinddolly]

Oh dear oh dear. So many things. Here's just a lil snippet : > Artemis still wears suits (sorry fowlblue), but more... vintage ones. I want him to acknowledge that everyone sees him as that "creepy ghost of a Victorian child" and go "oh? alright then" and show up at work looking like a full-on scary baby dandy, most notably ditching the tie for a lavallière (pinned down with a golden Celtic fibula, maybe?) and the loafers for leather laced boots. The vibes? Immaculate. > More acknowledgment that the fairies folklore is Artemis long-standing special interest/hyperfixation since early childhood that even his father's disapproval (bUt mAgiC iSn'T ReAl gRoW uP) couldn't shut down. That child is deeply autistic and it seems like a not too obnoxious and cute way to show it. > MORE 👏 ANGELINE 👏 AND 👏 MENTAL 👏 ILLNESS 👏 > MORE 👏 JULIET 👏 ARTEMIS 👏 FRIENDSHIP 👏 SIBLING-LIKE 👏 RIVALRY 👏 BANTER 👏 TOUGH LOVE 👏 Now for the fairies: > Half-goblin Holly for the win !! Already developed a bit of her backstory in a prev post, but so much fun stuff to alter in the books with that concept. She lives in a goblins neighborhood were only the kids like her, all the adults think she's a traitor and a sell-out. At work she's not as much harassed for being a woman, but almost all the officers hiss-hiss-hiss when they walk past her. Book 2 changes massively, because Holly is absolutely torn by the B'wa Kell rebellion, she feels like she should choose sides but doesn't want to. Artemis can bond with her on being branded as a criminal just because of your birth certificate. I repeat : Artemis can bond with her on being branded as a criminal just because of your birth certificate. > Let the fairies be just as judgmental, racist as they are in the books, but let them be called out on it and damn, just explore it. They call themselves pacifists yet they are are run by an all-powerful police-state. It's actually an amazing idea but it's just... left there. Explore it ! Corruption and immorality isn't just a humans' problem ! > Justice for the goblins. Everyone believes they are the stupidest fairy family? Fine. Maybe they are - but does that mean they deserve to be treated like inferior beings, only worthy of mockery and disrespect ? Nope. Also, according to who's standards are they the stupidest fairy family ? There are so many forms of intelligence. Maybe theirs just don't correspond to the golden standards of the elves and centaurs but nobody bothered to try and understand that. > More fairy and supernatural folklore from various cultures incorporated ! Banshees, selkies, onryo, aswangs, changelings... So many possibilities ! And bonus round, if I were to adapt AF to the screen (in an animated series because I do believe this is the way) : > Make it a mockumentary true-crime show, from the fairies' POV. Featuring interviews from all the main cast, video and sound archives (from the LEP ? from the Fowl family ?), reconstitutions... hell, even actual memories extracted from the Fowl gang after TEC. Not very ethical I know, but again - a true-crime show. > Controversial take, but I would majorly revamp dwarves. No more dwarves, they just are not a fairy species. Mulch would stay more or less the same character in terms of personality, but I would change his species from dwarf to troll - a nordic troll, the ones that change to stone when hit by the sun and change back at night. Make them a mineral species, that are literally made of dirt, rock and moss - how does Mulch because a burglar then ? Well, he's made of dirt and sand. He can sip through walls. He can shapeshift, maybe. That idea is still very much a WIP, but even though I know it's iconic, I don't thing a farting dwarf can actually translate from books to cinema. I don't see how it can't be anything else but extremely cringe. Let's stop there for now, but yeah. I have a lot of more or less unhinged ideas :D

Y’know what? I’m curious, and I wanna talk again-

Fellow AF fans, tell me how you would make Artemis Fowl if you were behind the writing wheel. It can be anything from “Juliet features more heavily in the plot” to reframing the LEP and fairies as a whole. I want to know!

I’ll give you mine- I’d make Artemis more interested in magical creatures than tech alone, and I’d have him wear suits less!

[crystallizedkingdoms]

now Listen to me johaviheads. this is the Win of the fucking century. Like okay look. there’s many things in this fucking sentence that Magnus is lying about but the underlying person he is pinning this excuse on— Avi— has to have Some kind of context for being in the vicinity of Johann’s room. there needs to be some believability in Magnus’s words because otherwise Johann would have to question why the hell Avi and Magnus were in his room in the first place.

so why does he pick Avi to be the scapegoat? SIMPLE.

Avi is one of Johann’s roommates!!

because why else would Magnus have a believable excuse of Avi not only being in Johann’s bed, but also inviting Magnus over? Johann and Avi HAVE to be sharing a room together for the lie to not be totally inconceivable, or worse, incriminating to Magnus. in conclusion Johann and Avi are literally roommates and this is the biggest johavi win since they stood next to each other in the Crystal Kingdom graphic novel. CERTIFIED JOHAVI WIN!!!

(also: roughhousing in Johann’s bed? what else could you be roughhousing in there big guy 👀)

[lanternlightss]

okay .. take two !!!

+ bonus doodles

[wombywoo]

hey! good morning/afternoon/evening. how's it going? hope everything's good.

that drawing you did of Ghost + Samuel (the one you posted on June 16) is one of, if not the most beautiful I've ever seen. seriously, no joke, on this website.

after that, I started following you and checking out your other drawings, and wow, you're so talented. like, seriously talented. just wanted to say that. 💞

Ahh thank you so much! This is such a lovely comment 🥰 Made my day!

I'm really glad to see people are enjoying my latest art, especially that Ghost piece, because I put a looot of work into it, lol.

Been having way too much fun with cod art, so you can expect more, haha <33

[vriendenboekjes]

giiiirll i hate this fucking thesis it's so impossible to do anything productive today

[miharuhebinata]

a lot was covered in this new trailer but i think we can all agree that the most important was that

YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR OUTFIT. YOU LITERALLY GET TO PLAY DRESS UP WITH ZELDA OH MY GOD ALL MY DREAMS ARE COMING TRUE THANK YOU GOD AND ALSO JESUS AMEN 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

[morninkim]

just remembered when I was planning a PokéRole campaign that took place in a version of Kanto that was 10 years after Gen 2, with a couple new towns and some map changes I thought were neat.

Cinnbar Island would have been rebuilt as New Cinnabar, a floating city utilizing thermoelectric power from the volcano and run by Blaine's daughter. She'd also be a new Steel-type Gym Leader and had a techy wheelchair that could also become an exoskeleton for her legs. Kinda a ItSV Doc Ock vibe to her, her ace was Magnezone.

A couple other fun locations were Russet City (North of Pewter), Patina Docks and Celeste Town (North of Lavender), while the Indigo Plateau was rebuilt, after a landslide took out Victory Road, as the Indigo Plaza with a massive Stadium in the vein of Wyndon in Galar.

Anyway. Found the map I made in SwSh-style that I still think came out so so sick. Here it is.

[celestial-toys]

been laying here listening to Lucky by Dermot Kennedy on loop for half an hour while thinking about Everything Stays and crying

[miodiodavinci]

i honestly think it's really neat how when it comes to MMD models there's a sliding scale of "uses raw untextured materials colored via diffusion/ambient/relfective values and relies solely on external shaders for definition" ala the original animasa models to "has highly specific specialized shading baked directly into the textures and may use a single toon At Most™ for flavor" and how most models tend to fall somewhere in the middle

[zapsoda]

obviously i think people can do whatever they want but i think its a shame to make up cool new neos and then not go into excruciating detail on their proper usage in every possible context

[godblooded]

honestly? craven’s death hit me, but losing kevin conroy hit me.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

The thing with the Mari Lwyd, though, is that it's being... I don't know, 'appropriated' is the wrong word, but certainly turned into something it isn't.

Thing is, this is a folk tradition in the Welsh language, and that's the most important aspect of it. I feel partly responsible for this, because I accidentally became a bit of an expert on the topic of the Mari Lwyd in a post that escaped Tumblr containment, and I clearly didn't stress it strongly enough there (in my defence, I wrote that post for ten likes and some attention); but this is a Welsh language tradition, conducted in Welsh, using Welsh language poetic forms that are older than the entire English language, and also a very specific sung melody (with a very specific first verse; that's Cân y Fari). It is not actually a 'rap battle'. It's not a recited poem. It is not any old rhyme scheme however you want.

It is not in English.

Given the extensive and frankly ongoing attempts by England to wipe out Welsh, and its attendant cultural traditions, the Mari is being revived across Wales as an act of linguistic-cultural defiance. She's a symbol of Welsh language culture, specifically; an icon to remind that we are a distinct people, with our own culture and traditions, and in spite of everyone and everything, we're still here. Separating her from that by removing the Welsh is, to put it mildly, wildly disrespectful.

...but it IS what I'm increasingly seeing, both online and in real world Mari Lwyd festivals. She's gained enormous pop-culture popularity in recent years, which is fantastic; but she's also been reduced from the tradition to just an aesthetic now.

So many people are talking/drawing about her as though she's a cryptid or a mythological figure, rather than the folk practice of shoving a skull on a stick and pretending to be a naughty horse for cheese and drunken larks. And I get it! It's an intriguing visual! Some of the artwork is great! But this is not what she is. She's not a Krampus equivalent for your Dark Christmas aesthetic.

I see people writing their own version of the pwnco (though never called the pwnco; almost always called some variant on 'Mari Lwyd rap battle'), and as fun as these are, they are never even written in the meter and poetic rules of Cân y Fari, much less in Welsh, and they never conclude with the promise to behave before letting the Mari into the house. The pwnco is the central part to the tradition; this is the Welsh language part, the bit that's important and matters.

Mari Lwyd festivals are increasingly just English wassail festivals with a Mari or two present. The Swansea one last weekend didn't even include a Mari trying to break into a building (insert Shrek meme); there was no pwnco at all. Even in the Chepstow ones, they didn't do actual Cân y Fari; just a couple of recited verses. Instead, the Maris are just an aesthetic, a way to make it look a bit more Welsh, without having to commit to the unfashionable inconvenience of actually including Welsh.

And I don't really know what the answers are to these. I can tell you what I'd like - I'd like art to include the Welsh somewhere, maybe incorporating the first line of Cân y Fari like this one did, to keep it connected to the actual Welsh tradition (or other Welsh, if other phrases are preferred). I'd like people who want to write their version of the pwnco to respect the actual tradition of it by using Cân y Fari's meter and rhyme scheme, finishing with the promise to behave, and actually calling it the pwnco rather than a rap battle (and preferably in Welsh, though I do understand that's not always possible lol). I'd like to see the festivals actually observe the tradition, and include a link on the booking website to an audio clip of Cân y Fari and the words to the first verse, so attendees who want to can learn it ahead of time. I don't know how feasible any of that is, of course! But that's what I'd like to see.

I don't know. This is rambly. But it's something I've been thinking about - and increasingly nettled by - for a while. There's was something so affirming and wonderful at first about seeing the Mari's climb into international recognition, but it's very much turned to dismay by now, because she's important to my endangered culture and yet that's the part that everyone apparently wants to drop for being too awkward and ruining the aesthetic. It's very frustrating.

[idiopathicsmile]

School Gymnastics: A Tragicomedy

So one day when we were in third grade, our P.E. teacher divided us into girls and boys. (I don’t remember what the boys had to do. Wrestling? Tackle football? I don’t know, probably not at age nine, but that’s not the point. Gladiatorial combat? I still don’t really understand kids’ sports.)

What matters for this story is that all the girls had to do gymnastics. Now—and I suspect this won’t surprise you if you know literally anything about me—I was always terrible at any form of school athletics. I am intensely, almost impressively uncoordinated. This doesn’t affect my life much at 36, but it was often a miserable way to be a kid. The only playground game I liked was playing pretend, because when you are playing pretend, you don’t have a bunch of people ostensibly on your side screaming in your ear, “Pretend faster! Pretend over there! Pretend with greater accuracy!”

Anyway, gymnastics and my clumsy, doughy little body. I couldn’t do a cartwheel. I couldn’t do a backwards somersault. I couldn't do any of it. We had an entire unit on this business and I literally did not learn how to even safely attempt a single move besides the log roll (lie flat and roll sideways on your belly). In retrospect, this seems like maybe it was in part a teaching problem, not a me problem, but that’s actually not the point either.

The point is, at the end of the unit, we were told to divide ourselves into little teams and choreograph a group gymnastics routine. My group, faced with my long list of limitations (more limitation than girl, really) decide my role will be to just forwards-somersault around the rest of the group as they do their moves. (This is itself kind of embarrassing but trust me, it is but the appetizer.) My friend Ashley has the Lion King soundtrack and we all agree that it is a great choice. The movie has only come out a couple of years earlier, and it of course features some funny, peppy options. 'Hakuna Matata'? 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King'? It's all coming together.

Carried on a wave of youthful enthusiasm, none of us even think to double-check which track Ashley has picked. Foreshadowing!

So the day of the performance comes. Another group goes right before us. They had picked “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, which was a huge hit at the time. I mean, it still is because it’s a classic, but then it was big and new. They step onto the mat and immediately begin to do choreographed dance moves, which they have worked into their routine. We had not thought of this. Oops. Dance moves, of course! So they incorporate the necessary gymnastics, it goes over really well, the energy is high, and now it’s my group’s turn.

I take my place at the edge of the mat, the mat we are required to stay on for the length of the piece. Ashley cues up the track she’d chosen.

A song starts up. Instantly, I recognize it from the movie. It is the very slow instrumental music that plays when Simba realizes his dad is dead.

‘Well, this is not optimal,’ I think. I've been on this planet for nine years; I can see that much. But it’s too late to change the track, and so I tell myself, ‘It’s okay. I’m a performer. I can sell this.’ I put on an extremely solemn face and begin to execute a series of the world’s saddest somersaults.

Friends, when I say “sad” I mean it, in every possible sense of the word. Picture a nine year old with the gravest possible affect, determinedly doing somersaults to the slowest, most serious music she can imagine, in a careful ring around her friends who have actually learned any gymnastics whatsoever. Okay, now as the music starts to pick up and get more hopeful, imagine she gets real dizzy and in front of everyone, she rolls all the way directly off the mat, careening dangerously towards the assembled students.

Somehow, I roll myself back onto the mat, we survive what feels like hours of humiliation, we stagger away, and I blessedly avoid adding “puking my guts out in front of all of my peers” to my very short list of gymnastics tricks.

Later, I asked Ashley what in the world possessed her to choose that song.

“It didn’t have any words,” she said.

(There was absolutely no rule against using songs that had lyrics.)

Anyway, that’s why being an adult is better than being a kid.

I may have to do laundry and make my own dinner and wrestle with more complex existential angst, but you know what I haven’t been asked to do in like 26 years? Somersault for three minutes straight to the musical shorthand for “this cartoon lion cub has no choice but to process the weight of unimaginable grief for his dead dad.” And you know what? If I live another 50 years, I can be pretty confident nobody will ask me to do it then, either.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I am not the asshole, and I think this whole thing is stupid, but I was promised that if I sent my side of things to this blog I could pick the hotel for our honeymoon, and I am marrying a man who once tried to take me BACKPACKING of all things, so this ask has become a necessity. In light of that:

AITA (I'm NOT) for planning the seating for our wedding in a logical way?

I got engaged in June, apparently in part because of my partner writing in to this blog (I don't know how to find or link to his posts, but I'm the man who got the cat to bite him, if that rings any bells?). At any rate, for the past ten weeks, I've been in the beginning stages of planning our wedding with my fiance, whom I have been secretly attempting to remove from the planning process as much as possible. I have ALREADY been given a list of his must-haves, and I AM incorporating as many of them as our budget allows. This has NOTHING to do with the emotional side of the event, and EVERYTHING to do with the fact that this is an idiot with no real planning experience or taste who thinks he knows more than me.

For the most part, this has worked very well. I'm the one who's been collating all the contact information for things, so I just replaced all the emails for the tacky companies with false addresses, responded to his inquiries as the companies to say the date was already booked or the price was outside our budget, and let him filter his way to the ones I DO like on his own. I also made a fuss about being "willing to compromise" on the few things he's picked I'm completely fine with in the hopes I can use it to make him compromise later, and have been humming portions of the songs I want on the playlist in the hopes he'll think he came up with the idea to include them himself.

None of this is the real problem. The PROBLEM is that he is deliberately ruining my seating chart, by moving our horrible friend's seat when I'm not looking.

The man in question dated both of us at one point in our VERY early 20s (both ended BADLY), is generally the messiest person we know, and will almost certainly get sloppy drunk and try to make a speech IF he does make an appearance. I'm banking on the fact that he won't, because he's also ridiculously wealthy, and will almost certainly send us some very lavish gift in lieu of coming.

He is SUPPOSED to be sitting beside my fiances aunt, at the same table as his grandmother, his work friend, and her girlfriend, because all four of these women are stone cold terrors who I believe are more than capable of keeping him in line on the slim chance he does come. My fiance INSISTS they won't be able to have any fun if they're running interference all night, and keeps moving him to sit at the head table instead. You know, where WE are. I finally caught him switching the label magnets on my planning board last night, and confronted him.

I tried leveraging how much I've been compromising already, that he's almost certainly going to RSVP no, and that I shouldn't have to deal with him on our big night. My fiance said he knew about all the fake emailing and such, and told me, and I QUOTE: "Look, the mind game shit was hot when it was just about the colour scheme or whatever, but I actually care about this. So you can suffer with everybody else, or you can do the normal thing and not invite a guy you hate to our wedding, you weirdo."

I said that if I did that, it would take out half his groomsmen, he called me an asshole and said I should go explain this to "literally any rational adult" so they could tell me I was in the wrong, and now here we are.

Would you recommend calling my fiance's bluff, since he doesn't want the man sitting near us either? Or should I focus on ensuring he'll turn down the invitation no matter what, so the matter of where he WON'T be sitting can be a moot point?

What are these acronyms?

Original post

The update

[matsunoluvr]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ the love and deepspace boys favourite body parts

warnings: characters may be ooc, some suggestive writing, limited knowledge on xavi and zayne (rafayel stan…)

characters: rafayel, xavier, zayne and sylus

link to master list here!!

information: these are based on the idea that the mc and LIs are either dating or very clearly romantically (and possibly more lol) attracted to one another!!

author’s notes: xavier’s affinity for physical affection infected me and now i can’t stop thinking abt it curse abyssal chaos and their stupid stories wdym we were cuddling w xavier ARGHH

more below the cut!! :3

as a painter, rafayel is, naturally, drawn to the whole figure - he’d say things such as “the body can show what words don’t speak” and such.

in the past he’s dabbled in figure painting, after all he is an artist at heart - he had to try everything - but he found that overall he much rather paint sceneries and landscapes. he just saw no appeal in the human body, it was all rather dull in comparison to the beauty nature held.

that was, of course, before he met you. ,and, well, every since then he found it difficult to paint anyone, anything, that didn’t include any aspect of you. from the exact hues of your eyes to the supple red of your lips after you two kiss, rafayel would incorporate your essence into any painting of his.

so it’s obvious that he loves your body, he loves every inch, but what was his favourite?

well… rafayel is obsessed with your hands… like so obsessed it’s insane. always wanting to hold them, kiss them, caress them, everything.

feeling your skin on his, no matter if your hands are soft or rough, large or small, fingers are long or thinner, he just loves the intimacy of intertwining his fingers with yours.

sometimes you can feel his gaze on you when you fiddle with them, if you run them through your hair or finger as a loose thread in your clothing - his eyes are fondly observing your every move.

if you ask what his obsession with hands were, he’d deny any specific attraction to them

“Hands? They’re just like any other body part.”

but then you ask specifically, what’s the obsession with your hands, and then his ears are turning red.

��Y-your hands? Nothing, no- I do not have an obsession with your hands…”

but then you grasp his chin, tilt his face up and trail a finger along his jaw and he’s shivering, flinching deliciously to your touch

tease him for it and he’ll get flustered - frowning but not denying anything at this point, because your finger is now trailing down his neck and gently brushing against his collar bones.

of course, his affinity for your hands can be exploited.

for example, when rafayel ignores you for sustained periods of time working on a painting.

“Wait a second, I’m painting.” and you get sick of waiting, so you decide to toy with him a little

he’s so engrossed in painting he doesn’t even notice you creeping up behind him, he doesn’t notice you until your hands are sneaking around his small waist, moving forwards until you’re toying with the buttons on the front of his shirt.

his small yelp of surprise is adorable, and the red that creeps up his neck to his ears is beautiful - you can tell his attention is now narrowed in on the way your fingers creep through the gaps in his shirt and your nails gently scratch at his abdomen

you can hear his breathing stutter and his heartbeat quicken, and if you turn him around to face you - well you don’t need to be a mind reader to tell what he was thinking when you looked at the tent growing downstairs…

“Please… I won’t ignore you I promise… so please keep touching me.”

we all know xavier can’t keep his hands off you, from purposefully pulling you a little too close to him when a wanderer seems too angry to cuddling into your chest when taking a nap.

he’s sly, sly like a little minx, and he knows exactly how to tease you.

with this in mind, his favourite part of your body is your neck - just like how his neck is his weak-spot

he is a very possessive man, and god does he love acting on it to prove to the world that you’re his (though with the glares he gives other men/women, I don’t really think he needs to make any other point that man is terrifying when he is jealous)

he shows his love by literally devouring your neck, sucking hickeys and giving little love bites all over your neck - if you tell him to stop he’ll definitely be giving you a petulant pout.

xavier just loves the fact that he’s the only one allowed to touch you there, that he’s the only one that’s allowed to nibble at your sensitive neck - the most vulnerable part of your body. the control he has over that area of your skin drives him NUTS

like seriously, you two will be making out (see this post for the lnd boys giving first kisses teehee) and all of a sudden he’s lunging at your neck and kissing it like there’s no tomorrow - all whilst sporting red ears and furrowed eyebrows.

xavier looks so concentrated, really dedicating all of his energy into making sure everyone knows you are his. also trying to focus the blood anywhere but south LMAO

by the way, you can exploit this by purposefully wearing low-cut v-necks, exposing your neck all for xavier.

even the opposite can work… wearing turtle necks or scarves, restricting his access when making out can get him riled up

one time he almost ripped your turtle neck with how far he was tugging it down so he could suck at your collar bones…

one time you and xavier went on a mission where you dressed undercover as a rich couple and went to a masquerade ball

when you and xavier split up, a man that you recognised as your ‘neighbour’ - who lived in the apartment next to the one you and xavier rented - approached you and started up a conversation - to be honest it wasn’t exactly flirtatious nor suggestive but you suddenly found yourself being yanked back into a solid chest

when you looked up you could see the seething possessiveness that simmered in xavier’s irises, and his grip on your waist was tight.

“Are you okay, dear? Is this man bothering you?”

his voice is much, much colder than you’ve ever heard it before, and there’s an edge to it that was so un-xavier like.

needless to say, the man scurried off as fast as possible

that night… well xavier made sure to pretty up your neck in lovely blotches of purpled-pinks…

his tongue is surprisingly skilled, swirling and caressing your sensitive skin in sensual patterns…

the next morning when you accidentally bumped into the man from the night before, you could definitely feel a sense of smug satisfaction come from xavier as the man’s eyes widened upon seeing your marked up neck

“What? I didn’t mean to… I just got carried away.”

zayne is a gentle-man, and his pure and innocent answer would be your eyes, and it’s not wrong. he loves gazing into your eyes - even though he doesn’t like it when you reciprocate the action.

whenever you’re lost in thought, or gazing into the distance, he finds himself searching your irises, or losing himself in your pupils.

but, if we really unveil dr zayne’s thoughts… he really loves your lips

like of course there’s the romantic and thoughtful side to it, he loves the little quirks and silent give-aways your lips can tell, such as the way they twitch a little when you lie or the way they look when you smile

he loves how you sometimes nibble on the bottom lip when deep in thought, and finds it especially cute when you sulk when he acts clueless to your flirtation

he especially loves, however, the way they glisten after you lick your lips with your soft tongue… or after he’s done having his way with you…

zayne loves when they turn swollen after a long make out session, or the way they pout when he teases you - leaning in for a kiss only to pull away and tuck some hair behind your ear

he loves the way your lips change colours, shades and hues, on warmer days they look velvety and on cooler days they’re more dry, and when he’s nipping at your bottom lip and kissing you deeply they turn a richer, more sensational shade of red…

sometimes he enjoys just watching you eat, seeing your mouth relax into a satisfied smile as you greedily swallow up your favourite dish

you can, obviously, use this to your advantage.

when he’s talking all mr professional-cold-hearted zayne mode, just draw attention to your mouth, whether it be by wetting your lips or by bitting your bottom lip, it’ll almost definitely cause him to hesitate

“…concerning your heart medication…” and then he drifts off ever so slightly before continuing his tangent on your health. it’s not a huge pause but coming from dr zayne? ANY sign of hesitation is a huge thing!

and sometimes, well he enjoys a little bit more…

the first time you really acknowledge his thing for your lips was when you two were out on a little date.

summer was at its peak and it was fucking boiling, even with your walking AC unit - dr zayne - it was still way too hot to handle

in response, you and zayne decide to take a trip to the local ice-cream parlour - he orders some form of ice drink - not too sweet - with whipped cream, whilst you order your favourite.

at one point - one thing led to another - and zayne ends up with some cream on his finger… and fuck if you were going to let this opportunity pass…

you grabbed his hand just before he could protest and took the tip of his finger in your mouth, wrapping your lips around him and gently sucking off the cream.

needless to say his rationality was lost, the only thought in his brain dissolved into the carnal need to claim you.

you can literally see the moment in his eyes, from confused to extremely, whole-heartedly, soulfully, biblically aroused - it’s actually a spectacle to observe

needless to say he took you to your apartment within the next 30 minutes and let’s just say… you didn’t get a good night’s sleep LOL

“I didn’t know you liked playing games this much. Let’s see how long you can play my game then.”

guys… i’m sorry… i can’t help it even if it falls into the stereotypical fuck-boy sylus core head cannons…

he’s an ass man.

sylus just loves a good ol’ ass, and unfortunately due to his unashamed nature he absolutely does not hide his admiration for your… assets.

gifts of form fitting leggings, dresses/suits, god sometimes even hunters uniform that flatter your lower half - he’s absolutely transfixed on your ass it’s actually concerning

“Your old trousers didn’t fit, they were too large. Wear these.”

if you did wear them sylus is going to explode. explode as in watch you with a starved look in his eyes, just begging for you.

when you’re out and around his residence - e.g. by the kitchen sink, don’t be surprised if you randomly feel a large, firm hand situate itself right on one of your cheeks, and i’m not talking about the ones on your face LMAOOO

and god if you bend over in front of him he’s going to be walking up behind you and observing very… very closely - at what you’re doing of course..

if you look up you’ll where his eyes are looking and it’s certainly not at what you’re doing (he’s appreciating your ass)

why he likes your ass, do i even need to explain?

does a man really need a reason to like ass??

he also likes love handles and tummies, i can totally see sylus absolutely adoring every part of your body tbh i wholeheartedly believe in love-sick loser boyfriend sylus who accidentally falls head over heels in love with you

love handles - he likes the look of them, he thinks they compliment your body, whether your body presents more masculine, feminine or neither!!

he also loves uh, grabbing onto them when he needs something to hold whilst… performing activities with you lets just say that

if you’re on the thinner side don’t worry, he doesn’t discriminate when it comes to ass, all shapes and sizes are sylus approved!!!

i can imagine how sylus would suffer if you acted oblivious, wearing tight trousers or wearing dresses/suits that clearly were tailored by his personal designer to compliment your figure

at balls that you were forced to attend with sylus in the n109 zone, he always stood suspiciously close to your back - either hiding/protecting your ass from creepy men or keeping it all for himself…

if not your ass, and if we are talking about more… appropriate parts of the body, he’d probably go for your hands.

he just loves how small they are against his, and especially loves biting them gently

speaking of which sylus 100% has a thing for biting that i don’t think people talk about enough - a lot? possibly, i haven’t seen much, but definitely not enough.

after your evol linkage ordeal and having to have his hands close to yours all the time, it really made him realise how much smaller your hands were

also, the idea of intwining fingers, holding hands… maybe even your hands wrapping around something else… yeah he can sometimes get carried away thinking about your hands…

in the café when you get all handsy on him, he definitely has one too many nsfw thoughts about you as he notices how warm and small the palm of your hand was in relation to his own body.

“Dont stop, keep touching me, kitten.”

AN: tl;dr the LND men are absolutely smitten for you and love your body no matter what. for the first 3 it was pretty simple for me, but i struggled with sylus. he seems to be a touchy man who doesn’t shy from physical contact so I got a little carried away… oops