#beginner driving guide

[diagnozabam]

Cum să pleci de pe loc cu mașina: Ghid complet pentru începători

Te pregătești pentru examenul practic auto sau vrei să-ți îmbunătățești tehnica plecării de pe loc? Nu ești singurul care întâmpină dificultăți cu această manevră aparent simplă. Plecarea de pe loc poate fi un obstacol pentru mulți șoferi începători, dar cu practică și răbdare, vei stăpâni acest proces fără probleme. Pașii esențiali pentru o plecare de pe loc corectă 1. Pregătirea înainte de…

[melissabtinker]

This video provides a comprehensive overview of navigating driving in a school zone, focusing on essential rules and safety tips to ensure the well-being of children and drivers alike. Viewers will learn about speed limits, the importance of stopping for school buses, and how to effectively anticipate the actions of pedestrians. Insightful commentary from driving instructors highlights common mistakes to avoid and best practices for safe driving in these critical areas. Watch now to gain the knowledge you need to drive responsibly in school zones.

[cavernstims]

A BEGINNER'S GUIDE TO FAKING YOUR DEATH stimboard

x | x | x x | _ | x x | x | x

[flightofthestorks]

jhariah thank you you mean the world to me please never stop

[blackmoreops]

How to Install Unraid NAS: Complete Step-by-Step Guide for Beginners (2025)

If you’re looking to set up a powerful, flexible network-attached storage (NAS) system for your home media server or small business, Unraid is a brilliant choice. This comprehensive guide will walk you through the entire process to install Unraid NAS from start to finish, with all the tips and tricks for a successful setup in 2025. Unraid has become one of the most popular NAS operating systems…

[bihar-ujala]

Car Driving Tips: सड़क पर अपनी और दूसरों की सुरक्षा के लिए जरूरी कार ड्राइविंग टिप्स, हर ड्राइवर को पता होने चाहिए ये नियम

Car Driving Tips: आज के व्यस्त जीवन में कार चलना केवल एक सुविधा ही नहीं बल्कि आवश्यकता भी बन गई है। चाहे ऑफिस जाना हो, बच्चों को स्कूल छोड़ना हो या लंबी यात्रा पर जाना हो कार हमारी रोजमर्रा की जिंदगी का अहम हिस्सा बन गई है। ऐसे में कार चलाते वक्त सुरक्षा और नियमों का पालनपुर करना सबसे ज्यादा जरूरी है। हमारी एक छोटी सी गलती जानलेवा साबित हो सकती है। इसलिए हर ड्राइवर को ड्राइविंग करते समय कुछ जरूरी…

[jennifercolvin321]

All Type SEO

All Type SEO is your go-to resource for mastering search engine optimization. Whether you're a beginner or an experienced marketer, we provide expert insights, tips, and strategies to help improve your website's visibility, increase traffic, and drive results. Explore in-depth guides, SEO tools, and the latest industry trends to boost your online presence and achieve higher rankings on search engines.

web: https://alltypeseo.blogspot.com/

[driving-tips]

Understanding Road Signs: A Beginner's Guide

Understanding Road Signs: A Beginner's Guide

Road signs are an essential part of driving, guiding drivers to navigate safely and efficiently. As a beginner driver in Melbourne, Victoria, understanding road signs is crucial to passing your driving test and becoming a responsible driver. DOS Driving School is here to help you master these signs and boost your confidence on the road.

Types of Road Signs in Victoria

In Australia, road signs are categorized into three main types:

1. Regulatory Signs

These signs enforce traffic laws and regulations. Ignoring them can lead to fines or accidents. Common examples include:

Stop Sign: Instructs drivers to stop completely before proceeding.

Give Way Sign: Requires yielding to other vehicles or pedestrians.

Speed Limit Signs: Indicate the maximum speed allowed.

2. WARNING SIGNS

These yellow diamond-shaped signs alert drivers to potential hazards ahead. Examples include:

Sharp Curve Ahead

Pedestrian Crossing

Animal Crossing (e.g., kangaroos)

3. GUIDE SIGNS

These signs provide directional and location information. Examples include:

Exit Signs on highways

Tourist Attraction Signs

Distance Markers

Common Road Signs Every Beginner Should Know

Here are some essential road signs to familiarize yourself with as a beginner in Victoria:

Roundabout Sign: Indicates an upcoming roundabout.

No U-Turn Sign: Prohibits U-turns at specific locations.

School Zone Sign: Indicates reduced speed limits during school hours.

Merge Sign: Advises merging traffic ahead.

Tips for Remembering Road Signs

Practice During Lessons - At DOS Driving School, our instructors emphasize road signs during your driving lessons to reinforce learning.

Use Flashcards -  Create flashcards with the sign on one side and its meaning on the other.

Online Practice Tests -  Take advantage of Victoria’s online road rule quizzes to test your knowledge.

Visual Observation - Pay close attention to road signs while traveling as a passenger to increase familiarity.

Why Road Signs Are Important

Understanding and obeying road signs ensures:

Safety: Prevents accidents by guiding drivers appropriately.

Efficiency: Maintains a smooth flow of traffic.

Legal Compliance: Avoids fines and demerit points on your license.

Learn with DOS Driving School

At DOS Driving School in Melbourne, our expert instructors make learning road signs an interactive and enjoyable experience. Whether you're preparing for your learner’s permit or need a refresher, we provide comprehensive lessons tailored to your needs.

[techtoio]

Best Fitness Gadgets to Boost Your Workout Routine

Introduction

Staying fit and healthy has never been more important, and with the right fitness gadgets, you can take your workout routine to the next level. These innovative devices not only help you track your progress but also keep you motivated and engaged. In this article, we’ll explore some of the best fitness gadgets available today, how they work, and why they might be the perfect addition to your fitness arsenal. Read to continue link

[techdriveplay]

Getting Into Kart Racing

Kart racing is a highly thrilling form of motorsport that serves as the gateway for many aspiring racers into the world of competitive racing. At its core, kart racing involves driving small, open-wheel vehicles known as karts around a track. These machines may look simple at first glance, but they offer an intense racing experience that requires skill, precision, and a deep understanding of…

[queer-ragnelle]

Beginner’s Guide to Medieval Arthuriana

Just starting out at a loss for where to begin?

Here’s a guide for introductory Medieval texts and informational resources ordered from most newbie friendly to complex. Guidebooks and encyclopedias are listed last.

All PDFs link to my Google drive and can be found on my blog. This post will be updated as needed.

Pre-Existing Resources

Hi-Lo Arthuriana

Medieval Literature by Language

Retellings by Date

Films by Date

TV Shows by Date

Documentaries by Date

Arthurian Preservation Project

If this guide was helpful for you, please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi!

Medieval Literature

Page (No Knowledge Required)

The Vulgate Cycle | Navigation Guide | Vulgate Reader (French)

The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle (Middle English)

The Marriage of Sir Gawain (Middle English)

Sir Gawain and The Green Knight (Middle English)

Sir Lanval (French) | Sir Launfal (Middle English)

The Welsh Triads (Welsh)

Le Morte d'Arthur by Sir Thomas Malory (Middle English)

Squire (Base Knowledge Recommended)

Owain (Welsh) | Yvain (French) | Iwein (German) | Ywain (Middle English) | Íven (Norse)

Geraint (Welsh) | Erec (French)| Erec (German) | Erex (Norse)

King Artus (Hebrew)

Morien (Dutch)

Knight (Extensive Knowledge Recommended)

The History of The King's of Britain by Geoffrey of Monmouth (Latin)

Alliterative Morte Arthure (Middle English)

The Marvels of Rigomer (French)

Jaufre (Occitan/Tagalog)

Le Bel Inconnu (French) | Gliglois (French) | Wigalois (German) | Vidvilt (Yiddish) | Sir Libeaus Desconus (Middle English) | Carduino (Italian)

Here Be Dragons (Weird or Arthurian Adjacent)

The Crop-Eared Dog (Irish)

Perceforest | A Perceforest Reader (French)

Le Roman de Silence (French)

Grail Quest

Peredur (Welsh) | Perceval + Continuations (French) | Parzival (German) | Parceval (Norse)

The Crown by Heinrich von dem Türlin (Diu Crône) (German)

The High Book of The Grail (Perlesvaus) (French)

The History of The Holy Grail (Vulgate) (French)

The Quest for the Holy Grail (Vulgate) (French)

The Quest for The Holy Grail (Post-Vulgate) (French)

Merlin and The Grail by Robert de Boron (French)

The Legend of The Grail (French)

Lancelot Texts

Knight of The Cart by Chrétien de Troyes (French)

Lanzelet by Ulrich von Zatzikhoven (German)

Spanish Lancelot Ballads (Spanish)

The Lancelot Compilation (Dutch)

Gawain Texts

Sir Gawain and The Green Knight (Middle English)

The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle (Middle English)

Sir Gawain Eleven Romances and Tales (Middle English)

Sir Gawain and The Lady of Lys (French)

The Knight of The Two Swords (French)

The Turk and Sir Gawain (Middle English)

Perilous Graveyard (French)

Roman van Walewein (Dutch)

De Ortu Waluuanii (Latin)

Valvens Þáttr (Norse)

Tristan/Isolde Texts

Béroul & Les Folies (French)

The Romance of Tristan (Prose Tristan) (French)

Tristan and The Round Table (La Tavola Ritonda) | Italian Name Guide (Italian)

Tristano Panciatichiano (Italian)

Tristano Riccardiano (Italian)

Tristan and Iseult by Gottfried von Strassburg (German)

Byelorussian Tristan (Russian)

The Tristan Legend (Norse)

Educational/Informational Resources

Encyclopedias & Handbooks

The Arthurian Companion by Phyllis Ann Karr

The New Arthurian Encyclopedia by Norris J. Lacy

The Arthurian Handbook by Norris J. Lacy & Geoffrey Ashe

The Arthurian Name Dictionary by Christopher W. Bruce

The King Who Was and Will Be by Kevin Crossley-Holland

Warriors of Arthur by John Matthews, Bob Stewart, & Richard Hook

Essays & Guides

A Companion to Chrétien de Troyes edited by Joan Tasker & Norris J. Lacy

A Companion to Malory edited by Elizabeth Archibald

A Companion to The Lancelot-Grail Cycle edited by Carol Dover

A Companion to the Gawain-Poet edited by Derek Brewer

Arthur in Welsh Medieval Literature by O. J. Padel

Diu Crône and The Medieval Arthurian Cycle by Neil Thomas

Wirnt von Gravenberg's Wigalois: Intertextuality & Interpretation by Neil Thomas

The Legend of Sir Lancelot du Lac by Jessie Weston

The Legend of Sir Gawain by Jessie Weston

[harrysfolklore]

driving lessons - op81

summary: oscar piastri teaches his girlfriend how to drive for the first time

MASTERLIST | JOIN MY PATREON

Life is full or ironies, and the fact that your boyfriend is an F1 driver and you don't even know how to drive is definitely one of them.

You always found it funny how someone who could navigate the most challenging race circuits with ease was dating someone who couldn't even navigate a parking lot, and was utterly terrified of being behind the wheel.

"I just can't believe you don't know how to drive," Oscar said while you were having dinner at his place one night.

"Excuse me, mister. Not all of us dreamed of driving cars for a living since we were kids," you teased, making him chuckle.

"Well, I guess I'll have to teach you how to drive, since that's what I do for a living."

You laughed at his enthusiasm, shaking your head. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm a lost cause when it comes to driving. I get anxious just thinking about it."

"Oh come on," he threw his head back, "I'll be a great teacher. We'll start slow, maybe in an empty parking lot. If it doesn't work out, we can stop anytime."

You thought about it for a second, you were at an age that it was downright embarrassing to not know how to drive, and maybe Oscar could actually help you face your fear of being behind the wheel.

"Okay," you agreed, "But you have to promise not to laugh at me, and we're not using a one of your McLaren luxury cars."

Oscar's eyes lit up with excitement. "Deal! We'll use something more… beginner-friendly."

"Beginner-friendly?" you raised an eyebrow, "Like what? A go-kart?"

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it," he laughed, "But no, I was thinking more along the lines of a nice, safe, regular car."

"Fine, but you have to be patient with me," you warned, pointing a finger at him, "I mean it, Oscar. One hint of frustration and I’m out."

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I promise. Scout's honor."

"You were never a scout," you narrowed your eyes playfully.

"Minor detail," he waved off your accusation, making you laugh, "Seriously though, I think you'll surprise yourself. You're tougher than you give yourself credit for."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," you retorted, but you couldn't help but smile.

"Maybe not, but it might get me dessert," he shrugged, leaning closer, "And maybe a makeout session before we head to bed."

You threw your head back in laughter, grabbing his cheeks playfully and pecking his lips a couple of times.

"You're a teenager," you said, shaking your head. "But fine, you get dessert, and you snogging session. Just remember, no racing techniques, I don't need to learn how to drift around corners."

"Drifting? In your first lesson?" he placed a hand on his chest in mock offense, "I'm hurt you think so little of me."

"When are we doing this again?" you said, moving to place your empty plates in the dishwasher.

"How about this weekend?" Oscar hoped off his stool, helping you clean around the kitchen, "I'll find us a nice, empty parking lot, and we can take it from there."

"Oscar Piastri, F1 driver with podiums to his name will teach his girlfriend how to drive in a parking lot," you said as you shook your head, "How ironic."

Saturday morning arrived and it was time for your first driving lesson. After breakfast, you and Oscar headed to the empty parking lot in a small, compact car for the lesson. It was far less intimidating than one of his sleek, luxurious cars.

"Alright, let's get started," he said, opening the driver's side door for you. You took a deep breath and slid into the seat, adjusting it to fit your height, Oscar got in the passenger seat and handed you the keys.

"First things first," he began, his voice calm and steady, "Let's go over the basics. Adjust your mirrors so you can see clearly, and get comfortable with the controls."

You nodded, following his instructions. Once you were settled, he guided you through starting the car and putting it into gear.

"Wait," you said before starting the car, "You're teaching your dummy of a girlfriend how to drive a regular car, okay? Don't expect some professional Formula 1 driver stuff from me."

"I promise, just the basics," Oscar chuckled, shaking his head, "We won't be racing anyone today."

"Okay, here goes nothing," you took a deep breath and turned the key in the ignition, the engine coming to life with a low hum.

"Great job," Oscar said with a small smile, "Now, put the car in drive and slowly take your foot off the brake."

You hesitated, feeling a wave of anxiety wash over you. "What if I mess up?"

"You won't," he said confidently, "And even if you do, it's all part of the learning process. Just take it slow."

You took a deep breath and lifted your foot off the brake. The car began to roll forward and for a moment, everything seemed fine until you pressed the gas pedal a bit too hard. The car jerked forward, causing you to panic and slam on the brakes.

"Whoa, easy there," Oscar said, "You're not at Silverstone, remember?"

"This is so much harder than it looks," you huffed, feeling your frustration bubble up, "How do you make it seem so effortless?"

"Years of practice and maybe a little natural talent," he winked, "But seriously, you're doing fine. It's all about getting a feel for the car, let's try it again."

Taking a deep breath, you eased off the brake and gently pressed the gas pedal. This time, the car moved forward smoothly, and you couldn't help but smile at the small victory.

"See? You're getting it!" Oscar encouraged. "Now, let's try a gentle turn. Just steer to the right."

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning it slowly to the right. The car responded, and you managed to navigate the turn without any major issues. But as you straightened out, you accidentally hit the windshield wiper lever, causing them to whip back and forth at full speed.

Oscar burst out laughing, and you couldn't help but join in, despite your embarrassment.

"Well, at least we know the wipers work!" he joked.

"Ugh, I feel stupid," you groaned, fumbling to turn off the wipers.

"It's okay, baby," he leaned in to peck your cheek quickly.

"Stop kissing me, I'll get distracted," you teased.

"Okay, okay," he said, composing himself, "Let's try another lap around the parking lot. This time, no wiper incidents."

You nodded, determined to get the hang of it. You practiced driving around the empty lot, getting more comfortable with each turn and stop.

As the lesson continued, you found yourself improving bit by bit, though there were still moments of frustration.

"Ugh, why won't this stupid thing go where I want it to?" you groaned, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"Hey, it's okay," Oscar said soothingly. "You're doing great. Just remember to relax your grip a bit. The car will respond better if you're not strangling the wheel."

You did as he said, and you found yourself driving more comfortably around the parking lot, improving with your turns and stops.

"You know," he said at one point, "If you keep this up, you'll be ready to join the grid next season."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Yeah, right. I'll leave the racing to you, thank you very much."

"Fair enough," he said, grinning, "It would be really hard to fight with my girlfriend for the championship."

"Is your girlfriend Max Verstappen and I'm just finding out?" you teased, making him laugh.

"That's a secret I'll never tell," he joked, causing you both to burst into laughter.

After a few more laps around the parking lot, you were feeling more confident behind the wheel. Until the final challenge of the day approached: parking the car.

"Let’s try parking," he suggested after a while, "Find a spot and take it slow."

You spotted an empty space and carefully guided the car into it, but misjudged the angle and ended up crooked. You groaned in frustration. "Why is parking so hard?"

Oscar laughed, shaking his head. "Well, parking an F1 car in the garage is definitely easier, no tight spaces to worry about."

"Ha-ha, very funny," you retorted, but couldn't help but laugh along with him, "Alright, let me try again."

You pulled out and tried parking again, failing to get the car neatly within the lines. "How was that?"

"Okay, so maybe parking isn't your strong suit yet," he teases, "Good thing you're not in a pit stop competition."

"Fine, I had enough for today," you said, unbuckling your seat belt, "I'm ready to go back to being your passenger princess."

Oscar laughed, getting out of the passenger seat and switching positions with you.

"You did great, really," Oscar said once he settled in the drivers seat, leaning over to kiss you, "I'm proud of you, you know. You really pushed through your fear today."

"And we're both still alive so that's a good thing," you joked, making him laugh, "Thank you for being a great teacher, baby."

"All I did was sit here and provide moral support, it's not like I know anything about driving or cars," he teased, "You did all the hard work."

You rolled your eyes with affection, leaning in to kiss him again.

"Maybe next time we'll try an actual road," he suggested.

"Or maybe you can teach me how to do a proper donut," you said, making him throw his head back in laughter.

"Only if you promise not to tell the team."

[number44newseries864962]

Need to rant for a minute because even though I have very much been enjoying the fruits of my efforts learning how to sew vintage style clothes, I just swapped out old fatphobia (nice plus size vintage clothes never making it to stores) for new fatphobia (trying to find patterns). Cause it doesn't end at what clothes you're able to buy already made.

I finally bought a Friday Pattern Company pattern the other day, and man it made the bare minimum feel like I was being spoiled. The sizes go up to 7X (that's XL, XXL, 1X, 2X, etc, so there's 9 sizes above L) they had a thin and a fat model on the cover! Usually I'm barely lucky enough to get an XL, and I'm just expected to guess how it's going to look on my body. The majority of their patterns have two differently sized models on the covers, and all of them have that full range of patterns inside.

It is so hard to find good plus size patterns, even if they're available, many companies just scale up their mediums and I can't guarantee they're actually sized correctly for a different shape. As good as Friday is, them and other modern indie pattern companies aren't easy to find.

Okay well what if I went another step deeper, what if I forgo patterns all together and decide to be completely independent and draft things myself?

Then I'll need a plus size dress form. I got lucky and found one at an antique mall for 50$ but these are incredibly rare and more expensive than smaller ones. I'll need to learn how to draft patterns, something that was taught to me on a XS form by my college and nearly every tutorial out there. Drafting close fitting clothes for fat bodies is a completely different skillset, because all that extra fat is much squishier and shifts more. Measuring yourself correctly and getting the shape you're looking for is far more important. Before I even got there I'd need to sketch out what I wanted to make, right? Well the patterning book my family got me only shows you how to draw tall, skinny people. A beginner would have to look up their own drawing references and tutorials because what what supposed to be a super accessible beginner's guide to fashion has decided their body isn't normal enough for the baseline tutorial.

We're expected to be the ones who put in the extra effort. Digging to find the pattern companies that fit our shape and actually prove they can, paying extra in shipping or driving farther to pick them up. Having to search specifically for plus size tutorials for drafting and sketching. It's always treated like it's not part of the beginner's experience to be working with a fat body, that's just going to make people more frustrated and lost and less likely to pursue something they're excited about! Especially if it's in response to already being frustrated about the lack of clothing options.

We need a little positivity to this post so to end on a high note, here's me modeling the blazer I just finished with a shirt I made a couple years ago!

Being able to finally wear clothes I really feel like me in has been an amazing confidence boost. It's not fair that there's so many roadblocks in the way for someone who looks like me who just wants to wear things they enjoy.

[jessiso]

"Let's pretend (we're not falling)"

A Criminal Minds one-shot | Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Spencer Reid asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a family wedding, but the line between fake and real begins to blur. Between slow dances, sleepy confessions, and soft smiles, something real quietly blooms.

cw: mild language, emotional vulnerability, light romantic jealousy, kissing and cuddling, fake dating, VERY FLUFFY.

w/c 4,812

(Longest one I've written yet - I could've kept going but felt like this was ENOUGH fluff for one fic!!)

...

You’re halfway through alphabetizing your bookshelf—again—when your phone buzzes with a name that always makes your heart skip: Spencer Reid.

"Hey, I know this is weird, but...would you be willing to pretend to be my girlfriend for a weekend?"

You freeze, a half-shelved copy of Pride and Prejudice in your hand. “I’m sorry—what?”

"Okay, so it sounds worse than it is," he rushes on, his voice tumbling over itself like he's tripping on his own thoughts. "There’s a wedding. My cousin’s. Everyone’s going to be asking questions about my love life, and I may have...kind of already told them I have a girlfriend."

You blink. “You did what?”

"I panicked," he admits, and you can picture him rubbing the back of his neck, eyes darting like they do when he’s nervous. "My mom kept asking, and it just slipped out. And then everyone was excited and asking when they could meet her, and—I didn’t want to disappoint them. I know it’s ridiculous."

You walk over to the couch and sit down, phone pressed closer to your ear. “So... your brilliant solution was to invent a girlfriend?”

"Technically, I didn’t invent you. I just… repurposed you. Temporarily," he says, and you can almost hear him wince at his own phrasing.

“Wow. I feel so honored,” you say dryly, but there's a smile creeping into your voice.

"No—I mean, you were the first person I thought of. You’re smart, charming, and we already spend time together. I figured if anyone could pull it off without making it weird, it’d be you."

Your heart does a little skip. “So this is your version of a compliment?”

"I think you’re amazing,” he says quietly, more sincere now. “But if this is too much or just weird or uncomfortable, I understand. I shouldn't have asked you like this.”

You let the silence stretch for just a moment, savoring the warmth in your chest. Then:

“Spencer,” you interrupt gently, smiling. “I’ll do it.”

He exhales in visible relief, and even over the phone, you can feel the warmth behind his "thank you."

"You’re sure? There’s a hotel room involved. And dancing. And my extended family. They’re a lot."

“Positive,” you say. “I’ve always wanted to go to a wedding where I can fake a romance with a handsome genius. Besides, it’ll be fun.”

He chuckles softly. “You might regret saying yes when my Aunt Patty corners you about astrology.”

“I can handle Aunt Patty,” you say confidently. “Just promise you won’t leave me alone with the bouquet toss.”

"Deal," he says.

You hear the smile in his voice, and it lingers in your chest long after the call ends.

...

Spencer picks you up in his vintage Volvo, nervously fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater.

His hair is a little messy in the way you like best, and there’s a stack of books in the backseat, including The Evolution of Marriage in Sociology and A Beginner’s Guide to Wedding Etiquette.

“You studied for this?” you tease, climbing in with your overnight bag.

He shrugs, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “I just wanted to make sure I knew what to expect. Statistically, weddings can trigger heightened emotions due to social pressure, alcohol, and romantic ambiance.”

You laugh. “So you're emotionally bracing for impact?”

He glances at you, sheepish. “A little. I also wanted to be the best fake boyfriend possible.”

“Well, that’s very noble of you, Dr. Reid.” You smile and buckle in.

The drive begins with your usual easy banter, but quickly shifts into something more comfortable.

Spencer starts reciting facts about the towns you pass through, pointing out obscure historical landmarks like he’s hosting his own nerdy podcast. You playfully correct him once, and he lights up.

“You’ve been paying attention when I ramble,” he says, sounding genuinely touched.

“Of course I do. It’s one of my favorite sounds,” you admit before you can stop yourself. The car goes quiet for a beat too long.

“Really?” he asks softly.

You clear your throat. “Yeah. It’s kind of like background music. But smarter.”

He doesn’t say anything right away, but you notice the smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

A little while later, he turns on a podcast about penguin mating rituals. “I thought this might be thematically appropriate.”

“Because of the wedding?”

“Because some penguin species mate for life. I thought it was... sweet.”

You blink, caught off-guard by the quiet sincerity in his voice.

Eventually, the road hum and soft voice of the podcast lull you to sleep.

Your head drifts until it finds his shoulder, and he stiffens only for a moment before relaxing.

When you wake up, your cheek still pressed to him, you find his hand resting gently on your knee.

“You were snoring softly,” he says with a smile, his voice low. “It was cute.”

You flush and stretch, not moving away. “You let me sleep on you?”

He shrugs. “You looked comfortable. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Your heart does a soft, silly somersault.

You look out the window and smile. “This fake boyfriend thing? You’re already really good at it.”

He chuckles under his breath. “Yeah. I might be in trouble."

You glance over at him, catching the way his fingers tighten just slightly on the steering wheel.

“In trouble how?” you ask, voice light, testing the waters.

He swallows, eyes flicking from the road to you, then back again. “Just… starting to realize how easy it is to pretend. Too easy, maybe.”

You don’t respond right away. The silence between you isn’t awkward—it’s soft, brimming with something unspoken. The kind of silence that only exists between people who are on the edge of something new.

Spencer clears his throat. “Also, your head is surprisingly heavy for someone so… not heavy.”

You snort. “Did you just call me dense?”

“I said surprisingly heavy. That’s different. Scientifically.”

You hum, mock-pensive. “I should’ve known you’d insult me with science.”

He smiles again—small and fond. “I wouldn’t dare. You’re very aerodynamic. Perfect for shoulder naps.”

You both laugh, and it breaks the tension just enough to breathe again.

The sun dips lower as the car winds through golden hills and quiet towns.

At one point, Spencer reaches across the center console and gently adjusts the blanket you'd haphazardly thrown over your lap earlier. His fingers brush your thigh, featherlight.

He doesn’t pull away immediately.

You turn your head, and for a heartbeat, you both just look at each other.

It’s not dramatic.

It's not a movie moment with music swelling.

It’s quiet.

Still.

But you feel it settle somewhere deep and certain.

You smile at him. “We’re gonna pull this off.”

He nods, but there’s something in his eyes that makes your breath catch.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I think we already are.”

...

The inn Spencer’s family reserved is charming in a way that feels almost too picturesque—wooden beams, soft lighting, flower boxes under every window.

It smells faintly of lavender and old books when you walk in, which feels on brand for a Reid wedding weekend.

Spencer checks in at the front desk while you take in the lobby, smiling at the framed photos of local landmarks and antique clock that ticks loudly in the silence.

The woman at the counter—Nancy, according to her name tag—hands Spencer one keycard and a warm grin. “We’ve got you both all set. Room 203, queen bed, garden view. Breakfast starts at seven, and congratulations, by the way!”

You blink. “Congratulations?”

Nancy winks. “You make a lovely couple. I hope the wedding goes beautifully.”

Spencer doesn’t respond—he just nods, thanks her politely, and practically power-walks you toward the elevator.

When the doors close, you look at him. “So… queen bed?”

He winces. “Apparently my cousin booked everything through a family rate package. She assumed we’d want one room since we’re…” he clears his throat, “a couple.”

You cross your arms, amused. “She really committed to the bit for us.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” he blurts, eyes wide. “I mean, or the chair, or—do hotel bathtubs count as beds if you’re desperate enough?”

You laugh. “Spencer. Relax. It’s just a bed.”

He hesitates, glancing at you sidelong.

"Right. Of course. Just a bed.”

The room is cute—floral wallpaper, a vintage desk, and yes, a single queen bed neatly made with a pale blue comforter. One bed. Right in the middle. No pullout couch in sight.

You drop your bag near the closet and sit on the edge of the mattress. “At least it’s fluffy.”

Spencer stands awkwardly by the window like he's unsure whether to sit, pace, or teleport out of the room.

You pat the other side of the bed. “C’mon. It’s not like we’re strangers.”

He walks over slowly, toeing off his shoes before sitting beside you, careful not to shift the mattress too much. “I know. I just… didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You glance at him, softer now. “Spence, you’ve read me bedtime stories when I couldn’t sleep, and once accidentally bought us a matching pair of Star Wars pajamas. I think we’re past ‘uncomfortable.’”

He smiles at that, eyes crinkling. “I forgot about the pajama incident.”

“I haven’t,” you tease. “Mine had little Ewoks.”

His voice is warm when he says, “You looked really cute in them.”

You both go quiet again.

Outside, the sun is dipping low, casting soft gold shadows across the room. It feels like you’re caught in a moment that doesn’t quite know what it wants to be yet—more than friends, but not quite labeled.

Not yet.

Finally, Spencer lies back carefully, folding his arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. “I’m just saying, if I roll over and accidentally elbow you in my sleep, it’s nothing personal.”

You slide under the comforter beside him, settling in with a little smile. “Noted. And if I steal all the blankets, you’re allowed to steal them back.”

He glances at you, eyes fond. “Deal.”

For a while, you both lie there in the dimming light, not touching but close enough to feel the warmth between you.

And even though the room only has one bed, somehow, it feels like just enough.

The room is dark now, save for the warm glow of the bedside lamp Spencer insisted on leaving on “in case you need to get up and don’t want to stub your toe,” which you’d teased him about affectionately.

You’re both lying in the bed, backs to each other at first—an unspoken, awkward little agreement made after brushing teeth side by side and pretending not to notice how close your shoulders were.

But now, a few long minutes later, Spencer shifts, and so do you, until you’re facing one another in the soft hush of the room.

“Are you warm enough?” he whispers.

You nod. “Mhm. You?”

“I think so.” He pauses. “The comforter is a little thin. But the proximity to another human increases shared body heat by at least three degrees.”

You smirk. “Was that your way of asking to cuddle?”

His eyes go wide. “No! I mean—unless—was it? I didn’t mean to. Unless you wanted to. Not that I’m assuming you do. Just, thermoregulation and all—”

You reach over and gently tug the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Spencer. Come here.”

He hesitates, but then scoots a little closer, tentative and sweet. You meet him halfway, curling into his side, your head tucked under his chin, his arm slipping around you like it was always meant to be there.

His heart is beating faster than usual. You can feel it against your cheek.

“You’re a very good fake boyfriend,” you murmur, letting your eyes close.

You feel him smile into your hair. “Thanks. I’ve been studying.”

You let out a sleepy laugh. “I can tell.”

Silence settles again—safe, content. His fingers gently trace circles against your back, slow and absent-minded, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

After a long while, just as you’re about to drift off, you hear him whisper:

“You smell like the lavender shampoo you always use.”

You hum. “You notice that?”

“Always.” He pauses, voice quieter now. “I notice a lot of things when it comes to you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, but before you can say anything back, his breathing shifts, slowing into the steady rhythm of sleep.

You don’t move. You just smile, curling in closer, and let the feeling carry you gently into dreams.

You wake to soft light filtering through the gauzy curtains and the distant sound of birdsong.

For a moment, you’re not quite sure where you are—everything feels too warm, too still, too perfect.

And then you shift, only slightly, and realize there’s an arm wrapped around your waist.

Spencer.

His hand is resting on your hip, fingers curled just enough to anchor you there against him.

Your back is pressed to his chest, your legs tangled under the covers, your bodies aligned like puzzle pieces.

He’s still asleep, breath slow and warm at the back of your neck. You can feel it each time he exhales, like a secret.

You should move.

You should, except… you really, really don’t want to.

Instead, you let your eyes flutter closed again, and for a few minutes more, you simply exist in the comfort of it.

The quiet, the softness, the way his presence fits so easily into the morning.

Eventually, you feel him stir behind you.

His fingers twitch slightly against your side before he freezes, like he's just realized where he is and what he’s doing.

“…Good morning,” he says, voice husky and sleep-rough.

“Morning,” you whisper back, smiling into the pillow.

He doesn’t pull away. If anything, he shifts just enough to get more comfortable. You hear him exhale, like he’s been holding his breath since waking.

“I didn’t mean to—uh—sprawl,” he says, sounding adorably apologetic.

“You didn’t sprawl,” you say gently. “You snuggled. It was nice.”

There’s a pause. Then: “You think I snuggled?”

“You absolutely snuggled.”

“…Did I snore?”

You laugh. “Not even a little. Though you did mumble something about echidnas.”

He groans quietly. “Great.”

“I thought it was cute.”

You turn slightly so you can look at him.

His hair is a mess, his eyes still heavy with sleep, and his cheek is creased from the pillow.

He’s never looked more endearing.

He gazes at you for a long, quiet second.

"This is going to sound strange, but… waking up with you felt really natural.”

Your smile softens. “It didn’t feel fake.”

“No,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Not at all.”

He reaches up, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear like it’s something he’s always done. His fingertips linger for just a moment too long.

You lean into his touch without thinking.

The knock at the door—his cousin announcing brunch downstairs—startles you both out of the moment.

But even as you untangle yourselves and climb reluctantly out of bed, the feeling lingers.

Something has shifted.

You both know it.

And maybe… maybe you don’t mind one bit.

...

The dining room smells like fresh cinnamon rolls and sunshine.

Golden light spills through wide windows, catching dust motes in the air and warming the linen-covered tables already cluttered with carafes of orange juice and scattered cutlery.

It's loud—but in that cozy, familial way that makes it feel like every voice has a place.

You and Spencer step in together, freshly dressed.

His sweater vest is just slightly crooked, and he’s fussing with his sleeves again—a telltale sign he’s nervous. You reach over and smooth the hem with a casual familiarity that catches even you off guard.

“Better?” you murmur.

He blinks down at you, nodding like you just saved his life. “Infinitely.”

His cousin—a woman with a messy bun, lipstick on her teeth, and an air of authority like she runs every group chat—waves from the far end of the room.

“Spencer! There you are! And this must be the famous girlfriend!”

A chorus of greetings follows. Chairs scrape. Someone makes room by scooting down with a dramatic sigh. You squeeze Spencer’s hand once before letting go and sliding into the empty seat next to him.

"Welcome to the chaos,” he murmurs, looking like he wants to sink into the floor and disappear.

You smile warmly. “Chaos is charming.”

"Spoken like someone who's never seen my family at a wedding."

Introductions come fast—half the table seems to be named either Julie or Dave, and every person seems determined to quiz you about how you met Spencer, what he’s like outside of the BAU, and most importantly, whether he’s always been “such a little know-it-all.”

“I heard he could recite Pi to, like, a thousand digits when he was eight,” one cousin says around a bite of blueberry pancake.

“I’m not that bad,” Spencer mutters, clearly mortified. “Just 1,022 digits.”

You bite back a grin and casually lace your fingers with his under the table.

His posture straightens immediately, his head turning to glance at you in soft surprise.

“Come on,” you tease gently. “It’s kind of impressive.”

“It’s kind of terrifying,” someone else says. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Spencer says automatically, but you can see the pink rising in his cheeks.

Later, the toddler brigade shows up—small children with juice mustaches and suspiciously sticky hands.

One of them, a wide-eyed girl with pigtails and a glittery dress, marches straight over to your side of the table.

She climbs into your lap like it’s her birthright and points an accusatory finger at Spencer.

“You! Tell me all your favorite dinosaurs. Right now.”

He blinks, startled. “All of them?”

“Just five. But the best five.”

Without missing a beat, he rattles off, “Deinonychus, Parasaurolophus, Therizinosaurus, Diplodocus, and Quetzalcoatlus.”

The little girl gasps. “The flying one?”

He nods. “Largest known pterosaur. Wingspan over thirty feet.”

She stares at him, awe-struck. “You’re like a real-life museum.”

You lean toward her and whisper loudly, “He even does the museum voice.”

“I do not—”

“He does!” you interrupt gleefully. “Give us your best ‘Welcome to the Natural History Exhibit’ voice.”

Spencer groans but plays along, deepening his tone with mock-solemnity. “Welcome to the Hall of Mesozoic Life, where the past comes roaring back to life.”

Laughter bubbles around the table. One of the uncles claps. The toddler claps. You beam.

Later, after she’s wandered off in search of more syrup, Spencer leans in close, eyes sparkling.

“You're really good with kids.”

You shrug, heart thudding a little. “You're really good with facts.”

“I didn’t mean that as a joke,” he says quietly, gaze lingering. “You just… fit in. Better than I ever expected.”

You try to breathe past the warmth blooming in your chest. “I like seeing this side of you.”

“What side?”

“This… soft, sweet, occasionally flustered side. And the dinosaur trivia doesn’t hurt.”

He ducks his head, hiding his smile in his teacup.

Halfway through brunch, a spontaneous toast begins—someone stands and clinks a fork against their mimosa glass, calling for “a round of love stories.”

“Oh no,” Spencer whispers, squeezing your hand.

“What?”

“It’s a tradition. Everyone shares how they met their partners. Every single couple. I didn’t think we’d get called on.”

You grin. “Guess we’d better improvise.”

When it’s your turn, you straighten your posture and beam at the table.

“We met in the library,” you begin, and Spencer exhales slowly beside you, relieved. “I was trying to reach a book on the top shelf—The Psychology of Collective Memory, if anyone cares.”

“She called me tall and intimidating,” Spencer adds dutifully.

“You were looming,” you say, teasing.

“She thought I worked there,” he says.

“You had a name tag!”

He leans closer, his smile lazy and warm now. “You asked me out a week later.”

You look at him, surprised—but nod. “I did. Best impulsive decision of my life.”

The table collectively awws. Someone mutters, “Get a room,” and someone else offers to officiate if “things escalate before the ceremony.”

Spencer’s hand is still in yours under the table.

His thumb strokes across your skin, soft and slow.

There’s something very real about it now—too warm to be performance, too natural to be coincidence.

And when the toast ends and you lean into his side just a little, he lets you. Quietly, easily. Like he was always waiting for the chance.

After brunch, as the family begins to scatter and the kids start racing up and down the hallway with napkins on their heads like superhero capes, you and Spencer hang back at the table.

He looks over at you, shy and fond. “Thank you for doing this.”

You bump your shoulder gently against his. “I’m kind of having fun.”

“I keep forgetting it’s not real,” he says quietly.

You meet his eyes. “Same.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his family and the leftover smell of syrup and orange juice, you realize—pretending doesn’t feel like pretending anymore.

It feels like something you don’t want to let go of.

The pre-wedding reception is held outside, under strings of golden fairy lights and the soft hum of a hired jazz trio.

Everything smells like lilac and freshly mown grass.

Tables are scattered across the lawn, twinkle lights woven through centerpieces of wildflowers and white roses.

You and Spencer arrive just as the sun dips low on the horizon, casting everything in a warm, golden glow. He's beside you, freshly changed into a deep navy blazer and that soft, nervous smile he wears like armor.

“You look beautiful,” he says, almost too quietly to hear.

You glance over, heart doing that ridiculous flutter it’s been doing all weekend. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Dr. Reid.”

His ears flush pink. You nudge him playfully with your shoulder.

The two of you are barely through your first round of canapés when Spencer is whisked away by an aunt determined to introduce him to someone she swears is a cousin but might actually just be her neighbor.

You’re left alone, sipping your drink, watching kids chase bubbles near the dance floor.

That’s when he appears.

Ryan. Spencer’s second cousin. Or third? You can’t remember. He’s charming, golden-tanned, and clearly two drinks in.

He plucks a champagne flute from a tray and slides into the seat beside you with a grin that’s just shy of too confident.

“So… you’re the famous fake girlfriend.”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

He smirks. “I figured. No way a guy like Spencer pulls someone like you without divine intervention. Or bribery.”

You stiffen. “Well, I guess miracles happen.”

“I’m just saying,” Ryan continues, leaning a little too close, “if this whole thing is just for show, maybe you’d want some… real company later?”

Before you can respond—or throw your drink in his face—a familiar voice interrupts, quiet but sharp.

“She’s already in real company.”

Spencer’s back.

He’s standing just behind Ryan, eyes unreadable but jaw tight. His hand finds yours instantly, fingers lacing through yours with more certainty than you’ve felt all weekend.

Ryan laughs, holding up his hands. “Hey, man. No offense. Just thought she might want some actual fun.”

Spencer tilts his head slightly. “Fun, statistically speaking, often involves mutual interest. And consent.”

You nearly choke on your drink.

Ryan mutters something and slinks off toward the bar.

You turn to Spencer, surprised, but he’s still holding your hand, thumb brushing across your skin in slow, grounding strokes.

“You okay?” he asks softly, eyes scanning your face.

“Yeah. Thank you. That was very… chivalrous of you.”

He shifts, a little embarrassed now. “I just didn’t like the way he was talking to you.”

“You didn’t have to come to my rescue, you know.”

“I know,” he says. “But I wanted to.”

Something flickers between you—warm and full of questions you’re not ready to ask yet. The music shifts to something slower, something sweeter.

And before you can overthink it, Spencer gently tugs your hand. “Dance with me?”

You let him lead you onto the grass, where a few couples sway under the fairy lights.

His arms slide around you, one hand settling at your waist, the other cradling your hand against his chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“You know,” you murmur, resting your head against his shoulder, “if you keep doing things like that, I might actually fall for you.”

His breath catches, but when he answers, it’s soft, honest.

“…Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”

The music plays on. The stars blink to life above you. And in his arms, nothing feels fake anymore.

...

The wedding ends in a blur of dancing, laughter, and sparklers flickering in the night air.

By the time you and Spencer stumble back into your shared room, shoes in hand and cheeks still flushed from spinning each other around the dance floor, the inn is quiet.

Only the muffled sound of someone giggling down the hall reminds you the night hasn’t quite ended for everyone.

Spencer sets your shoes by the door like they’re made of glass, then shrugs off his jacket, looking content and sleep-soft in his white button-down and loosened tie.

“That was…” you start.

“A lot?” he finishes, smiling gently.

You laugh. “I was going to say beautiful.”

He turns toward you, face lit only by the lamp you flicked on by the bed. “Yeah. It really was.”

There’s a pause. A warm, quiet kind.

“I cried during the vows,” he admits suddenly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know,” you say with a fond smile. “I noticed. You were blinking really hard and pretending to adjust your tie every five seconds.”

He groans. “I was trying to be subtle!”

“You were about as subtle as a fire alarm,” you tease, walking over to him and gently fixing the part of his tie that’s askew. “But it was cute.”

His gaze finds yours and doesn’t let go.

“I guess weddings are just… a lot for me,” he says softly. “So much love in one place. It’s overwhelming.”

You nod, fingers still at the knot of his tie. “In a good way?”

He hesitates. “In a way that makes me wish I had that. For real.”

The quiet between you deepens. Thickens.

You look up at him, your hands slipping from his tie to rest lightly on his chest.

“Spence…”

He exhales, eyes fluttering shut for a moment like he’s debating whether or not to say the next words.

But when he opens them again, there’s only honesty there.

“I thought pretending to be with you would be harder,” he whispers. “But it’s not. It’s easier than pretending not to want this all the time.”

Your breath catches.

“I know we said it was fake,” he continues, voice barely above a whisper now. “But every time I looked at you tonight—laughing with my cousins, dancing with me, kissing my cheek when my aunt got too nosy—I kept forgetting we were pretending.”

You feel the words sink into your chest, warm and weightless at once.

“I wasn’t pretending,” you say, quiet but certain.

His eyes widen just a little. “You weren’t?”

You shake your head, stepping closer.

“I wanted to hold your hand. I wanted to slow dance with you. I wanted to fall asleep next to you and wake up and do it all again tomorrow.”

Spencer looks stunned—like someone just gave him a map to a place he never thought he’d reach.

Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts a hand and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “You mean it?”

“I do,” you whisper.

He lets out a breath—half laugh, half relief—and leans his forehead against yours.

“I’m kind of in love with you,” he murmurs.

“Just a little. Or maybe a lot.”

Your fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt. “That’s good. Because I’m kind of in love with you too.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you—eyes shining, smile soft and disbelieving.

Then he cups your cheek like you’re something fragile and precious and presses the gentlest kiss to your forehead.

You melt.

The two of you change into your pajamas in a haze of quiet giggles and stolen glances.

When you finally crawl into bed—your bed, not just the one assigned to two fake lovers—you curl up beside him without hesitation.

His arms wrap around you instantly. Like he’s meant to be there. Like he doesn’t want to let go.

“You know,” you murmur as your fingers trace lazy shapes on his chest, “this fake relationship really took a turn.”

He laughs, a sleepy, golden sound. “Best plot twist of my life.”

You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, your hand in his, the weight of every unsaid thing now lifted.

And in the quiet warmth of that shared bed, everything finally feels real.

[tahbhie]

Effective Ways of Creating Relatable and Realistic Conflicts

As a writer, whether you're a beginner, intermediate, or expert, you've likely heard about the importance of creating "relatable and realistic conflicts." This advice appears in almost every writing guide. Yes, it's crucial.

However, this recurring statement might seem vague. Let's break down what these terms mean. We'll discuss how to create conflicts in your style that work, and what can lead to the opposite results.

✧✧✧✧

This is a flexible guide, not a strict set of rules. Let's begin.

✧✧✧✧

First, relatability is different from realism, at least in this context.

Relatability offers an experience that people have gone through before. They can easily identify it as something that happens.

Realism, on the other hand, can be a fresh experience or something entirely fantastical. Here's the catch: it must stay true to your setting and plot. For example, in a fantasy setting, your conflict could be the protagonist's dragon falling sick on the eve of a big race.

In the real world, we have no dragons. But in your setting, your situation with this creature feels real. Now consider an instance where we have intelligent insects with no apparent reason or explanation. This is an example of an unrealistic conflict that doesn't align with its setting. It's either you adjust a few things in the settings or adjust the conflict that stems from their intelligence or is solved by it.

Now that we've established that, let's consider what to keep in mind when writing conflicts.

Conflicts can be resolved instantly or extend further. They can begin your story, occur during it, or happen after a sweet moment.

Before writing a conflict, think about:

1. The Setting:

Where is your world set? This matters a lot! You can use our real-life world but still create your own rules, as long as you make that clear. Your conflict could come off as both realistic and relatable. However, where you have a total no is when your world is the normal world we know, with no changes, and your conflicts are unrealistic and unrelated.

You have such examples in some Bollywood movies. No offense to anyone in love with these movies. This is just a case study for clarification purposes.

Think of the fight scenes. The physical conflicts often stem from a grander conflict. You'll understand where I'm coming from.

2. Duration:

How long will this conflict last in your story? Earlier, I mentioned lasting conflict and fleeting conflict. The former helps create more meaning for your plot. The latter adds excitement that drives the plot forward.

3. Solvability:

Sometimes, the resolution to your conflict can render it meaningless, even after you've nailed the creation. Resolve your conflict in agreement with your plot.

4. Interesting Premise:

Conflict ideas sometimes come naturally as you write your story. I remember when I wrote high school stories, conflicts came to me as I wrote, but this doesn't happen every time. Sometimes, I knew I needed something more exciting and less predictable.

For example, it's common for a new female student to be rivaled by the school's most popular girl. This is usually because of the love interest—the most popular guy in school. But what if they become best friends, and the love interest turns out to be the popular girl's brother?

She mistakes the protagonist's friendship with a different guy as cheating, and the feeling of betrayal turns them against each other. This twist offers a fresh take on the usual antagonizing characters. It could make your story more interesting. This time the antagonist is doing what she feels is in her brother's favour not herself.

5. Character's Involvement:

This is slightly similar to the above. The difference is that it deals directly with the characters themselves, not just the conflict they face. The actions towards the conflict give the situation meaning.

6. Aim and Goals:

What do you aim to achieve with your conflict? Do you wish to entertain, hook the readers, drive the plot forward, or introduce a new object or character? It's best to aim for two at a time. Trying to achieve all in a single conflict could lead to complications.

Which conflict have you read in a book that made you wish you wrote it?

Aiming for a powerful plot? Check out this plot progression planner that helps you plan the aspects you often overlook. You get a free gift!

If you love what I do, support my work to enable more content production.

[digital-chance]

Neocities Websites for Decor (& Other Resources)

9/4 2:10pm

i've been working on my neocities website and wanted to compile a bunch of places where one can find decor. this is not an extensive list, but rather a bunch of places where you can start finding resources.

please note that various pages could strain the eyes, including flashing lights or colors. pages called 'blinkies' usually have flashing colors throughout. [* = prominent flashing lights]

all websites, resources, and thoughts are beneath the cut

decor

effects for mouse cursors, text, and sites - https://www.mf2fm.com/rv/

assorted decor, images, and more - https://shishka.neocities.org/shishka/toybox

* random gifs from the internet archive - https://gifcities.org

https://pinkukingdom.neocities.org/toybox

http://whimsical.heartette.net/material [has tos you need to follow]

https://cinni.net/?z=/toybox/ [love this website so much]

* assorted early internet graphics - https://www.glitter-graphics.com

https://graphic.neocities.org

https://strawberry-gashes.gensoukai.net/v2/

archived images - https://web.archive.org/web/20100211160439/http://neskaya.net/pixels.php

* https://kawaiiness.net/home.php [potential eye strain]

https://www.asterism-m.com/item/ [japanese site]

https://pixelsafari.neocities.org

https://foollovers.com/mat/index.html [japanese site. has tos]

* https://gothiclolita.neocities.org/materials

https://sozai.pooftie.me [pastels. very low contrast, hard to read warning]

https://scripted.neocities.org

https://arunyi.art/#goodies

https://nonkiru.art/resources

* https://animatedglittergraphics-n-more.tumblr.com / @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1eQx_UiPvEvI4ZZECoPOuRrLhIE_6XbBy [content guide here... 4k+ gifs and graphics by @topadie]

* https://cutewebgraphics.tumblr.com/directory / @cutewebgraphics

https://pngfarm.tumblr.com / @pngfarm

https://lostsozai.tumblr.com / @lostsozai

decor directories

https://directory.cinni.net/sozai/

https://pixelsafari.neocities.org/links/directory/

https://www.tumblr.com/gender444/680981849679511552/favorite-sozaiblog-materials-sites-fool-lovers

definitions

(for those who don't know and/or are just getting into website creation)

webmaster: person who coded/created the website

favicons: small icons or graphics, usually 16x16 pixels.

pixels: graphics either custom-made or found. i've seen this term used for favicons, adoptables, and other graphics.

emoticons: old term for emojis. typically custom emoji expressions

* blinkies: thin flashing or sparkling banners, usually with text, an image, and flashing lights. collectible.

toybox: collections of favicons, stamps, blinkies, buttons, and more. all up to the webmaster's discretion and preferences

* glitters: glittering or shimmering text or images

stamps: collectible rectangular images, usually 99x56px

buttons: images that are hyperlinked to other websites. often custom-made for one particular webmaster or site.

avatars: typically 100x100 pixel images

other websites

beginner's guide to html and css - https://webguide.neocities.org

dnd style character generator - https://harlekine.neocities.org

templates/themes - https://neothemes.neocities.org

photo editor - https://photomosh.com

rainbow text maker - https://www.glitter-graphics.com/generators/rainbow.php

various other resources - https://scripted.neocities.org

learn more about websites & neocities - https://sadgrl.online

assorted resources - https://www.tumblr.com/punkwasp/725206601551773696/neocitiesindie-webmastery-resources

get started with website creation - https://www.tumblr.com/oddmerit/685644129978499072/note-cause-im-getting-sick-and-tired-of-terfs

all types of resources - https://punkwasp.leprd.space/resources/

* = prominent flashing lights/colors

i suggest not linking back (aka hotlinking) to the resources on the website. instead upload it yourself onto either neocities or an image hosting site and include credit. this way, if the person hosting the image deletes their page or loses the image somehow, your website will still be fine. (i didn't do this and had to find everything all over again... )

i have found that the best websites to use as companions to neocities are w3schools, pinterest, tumblr, and any image hosting site. w3schools for coding tutorials. pinterest for inspiration or for graphics. tumblr for any type of decor and advice. to edit my code and have a live preview, i use codepen.io.

since you read through all this, maybe take a look at my neocities site and follow me! <3