#break each book into two smaller books

[littleeyesofpallas]

[canadiancryptid]

If the Train gave all the passengers grey jumpsuits before Amelia got involved, and it usually doesn't let you take stuff from the Train home... at what point did it give your stuff back? Did One send a Steward to give your clothes back when you got your Exit? Kez seems to know about the Stewards, but she seemed surprised when it brought gifts. Did it never show up to return Jeremy's stuff? We see him wearing normal clothes in the photo, but that was given to him by Morgan.

Where does the line fall between what you're allowed to keep and not? Jesse doesn't get to take the Apex harpoon pack with him. Lake gets to keep the clothes and the bank pen bracelet, but the handcuffs don't go through. They stay attached until Lake makes it all the way through, even after both arms are already on the other side. The cuffs only disappear after the door closes. The harpoon pack only falls dramatically after the last trace of the glowing doorway has faded away, even though Jesse was still wearing it when Lake last saw him. It almost lets you bring things up until the last second before snatching it back.

The determining factor seems to be if it could be used to prove the Train's existence. Maybe the handcuffs were left behind because they were from the Mirror World, which the Train seems to consider to be under its jurisdiction. It seems to let you keep the clothes on your back, but if the jumpsuits made it though then they could have been used as proof. In that case, would it just spit the passengers out with nothing? The exits seem to work like doorways, so it probably wasn't returning your stuff as you passed through.

Chances are, it lets you keep your outfit within reason. It may be a magical train that kidnaps people and forced them through therapy from hell, but it has STANDARDS! If it looks like something you could find on Earth, then there would be no reason not to let you take it. If its something completely inexplicable like a custom-made harpoon pack, then that has to stay. But some normal looking clothes you stole from an abandoned mall would probably be fair game. It also probably wouldn't let you say, throw a bunch of apples through the open Exit in an attempt to solve world hunger, as amazing as that could be. The Train doesn't care if you starve as a passenger, why would it care if you starve on Earth?

Random stuff in pockets or backpacks might be up for debate. Tulip probably still had the Donut Holer in her backpack, but someone who ran away for months coming back with a pipe for self-defense doesn't seem out of the ordinary. Nobody knows where she was, for all they know she could have needed it. It was confirmed in an AMA that if Jesse's phone had remained un-smashed, then his photos would have ended up blurry and worthless as evidence. It seems important that the Train keeps itself secret under most circumstances. There are reasons it wasn't willing to let Denizens get their own numbers. If everybody knows about the Train, then they won't want to get on.

But when the hell was One planning to give back their clothes? Did Jeremey not have any need for his stuff because Morgan and Kez took such good care of him? Or did One just say "Yoink! This is mine now!" every time someone brought something on board? At what point in the pre-Amelia process were personal belongings dealt with? How many people lost their keys in the process? How many passengers never got their stuff back?

[celestiallymar]

| September goals

1. Daily Self-Care Routine

Start small by adding one or two self-care habits to your daily routine, like stretching for 5 minutes in the morning or writing down three goals for the day ( like drinking more water ).

2. Be kind to yourself

Tip: Create a habit of switching your mindset and words. Try saying “I am capable of achieving my goals” or “I deserve to take care of myself.” instead of discarding your needs and feelings.

3. Add little challenges to your day

Try a 30-day personal challenge, like journaling every morning, starting a workout routine, or reading 10 pages of any book you like each day.

4. Dealing with burnout

Reserve one day of the week for self-care and doing things you enjoy. Even if you can't take the full day for yourself try to make it at least two hours for a good and relaxing shower, taking care of your skin, hair and body. Maybe you can even treat yourself to your favourite meal!

5. Productivity Hacks

Break tasks into smaller, manageable chunks, and set a timer (like the Pomodoro technique—50 minutes of work followed by a 10-minute break) to stay productive without feeling overwhelmed.

Tip: If a task takes less than two minutes to complete (like answering a quick email or tidying up your desk), do it immediately. This prevents small tasks from piling up and becoming overwhelming.

That's all!! Tell me if you'd like more tips.

Stay healthy, stay happy and be kind!

[slytherinshua]

ALL MY LOVE

genre. fluff. boyfriend headcanons. warnings. minghao dreams abt marriage and starting a family. not proofread and written while i'm sick and have half a braincell so i'm rly sorry if this is a mess. pairing. minghao x fem!reader. wc. 558. request. no. a/n. babe wake up slytherinshua is back skdjskd GOD IM SO HAPPY I WAS ABLE TO WRITE SOMETHING FINALLY 😭😭 thought this blog was literally gonna die cause writers block was so strong. also surprised it ended up being svt that broke through my block esp minghao but yk ill take it no complaints !!!!

boyfriend!minghao who’s a gentle, slow lover. he never rushes, but he also never leaves you with any doubt. he can read you like a book, and any concerns on your mind seem to be instantly resolved before you even have time to bring them up. he’s steady and true; your rock that you always know you can fall back on when things get tough. no matter what, he’ll always be there. he gives you a soft passionate type of love that you would never get tired of even after decades. 

boyfriend!minghao who’s always been ambitious. he has dozens of things he’d like to do and achieve, but he also knows how to take life slow and enjoy the present. he knows he has time to do everything he wants, and he reminds you that you also have plenty of time as well. sometimes you need that extra voice to tell you that it’s okay to take a break sometimes. it’s okay to breathe and think. no matter what, minghao will always be your biggest supporter— always rooting for you to strive and reach your goals, even if they are small.

boyfriend!minghao who helps you relax after a long day. warm tea and a massage are enough to put your mind and body at ease. his hands work like magic over your neck, shoulders, and back. it’s so good, in fact, that you feel guilty for not paying him for his service. he would never accept anything like that from you, though. once he’s done working out the knots for 20 minutes, he’d fall on top of you, giggling into the crook of your neck as he acts like your personal weighted blanket.

boyfriend!minghao who has a whole collection of couple items with you over the years. whether it be clothes, jewelry, or even mugs, everything he buys seems to come in a set of two. he can’t even imagine buying something for just himself anymore when you always seem to cross his mind whenever he spots something cute.

boyfriend!minghao who scolds you (but truly only out of love). his attention to detail and observant nature is both his strength and his flaw. he’s quick with his tongue— too quick— and will catch himself lecturing or correcting you when it wasn’t strictly needed. although it’s rare for his scolding to get on your nerves, as you know its a way he shows that he cares about you and loves you, it sometimes does. but he’s quick with his apologies as well, so no bickering between you two can ever last long. 

boyfriend!minghao who is so happy and secure in your relationship. he knows he’s found the one with you, and now that he’s been able to call you his for years, there’s no way he would ever be able to imagine his life without you. the overwhelming fondness he holds for you plants itself in his head and his heart and always has him thinking about your future together. he’d tell you randomly over tea how much he’s been thinking and dreaming about spending the rest of his life with you. whether it be big milestones like your wedding and starting a family, or smaller ones like waking up in each others arms each morning, he’s excited to experience it all with you.

↳ svt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @minholing,,

@shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,,

@wonwooz1,, @blossominghunnie,, @haecien,, @amara-mars,, @okshu,,

@parkjennykim,, @wootify,, @svtoose,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,,

@heavenfilm,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,,

@talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,,

@gong-fourz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny

[ardensregias]

his songbird

contents!! yingxing x female reader. prone bone turned missionary. reader is shy :3 dirty talk. lots of teasing!!! sliight dacriphilia. edging. praises. tummy bulge mmmm. petnames: angel, baobei, darling. yingxing gege !! ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა

my clit wrote this so this def sucks & not proofread & kinda selfship-coded . . ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა *runs away*

it's endearing, the way you tighten your hold on the silk sheets, buries the sweet face he's missed so badly into the feather-filled pillow, as if that'd help you to tone down the loud and obscene noises that escape your lungs.

"still so shy, hm?" he coos, slotting himself deeper into your aching cunt, "'s not like this is the first time we've done this, angel,"

too exhausted to form a coherent reply, a whine escapes your lips instead, giving yingxing all the answers he needs. the craftsman reads you like an open book. no matter how much you seldom admit to it, deep down you know that it's the truth—that he always knows what to do with you; the things you'd love to hear and feel, and all the right ways to turn you into putty for him with masterful ease.

such as right now; the way he brings one rough hand down from your breast to your hips, pressing down on the plush skin to stop you from squirming too much, pushing you into the edge and humming in satisfaction at each one of your adorable reaction. it fuels his ego to know that he's the only one who can mold and shape you into such a perfect doll for him to use and fold into any position he'd like.

"i can tell you're loving this. would you like me to go harder, baobei?"

from the mirth oozing from his words, you can already picture him wearing the cheekiest smirk that you so despise to see, waiting for any kind of response—which he's 100% sure will not be a comprehensible one.

"gege, i—please—nghh... i-if you do tha—haaah!" you cried out, hiccuping out little incoherent babbles and dragging your nails across the soaked sheets, seeking for any semblance of relief.

so predictable, he thinks. his lips curl further upward, grinning at your reaction, finding it difficult to resist teasing you further, "use your words, baobei, c'mon—or are you telling me that this is enough to break you?"

and as if to make it worse for you, yingxing rolls his hips up, pushing his pelvic bone flush against the swell of your butt until his leaky cockhead manage to kiss that soft spongy spot inside you, and your back arches alluringly in return, lips quivering in a struggle to keep your voice down—fearing the possibility of alerting the entire neighborhood of the debauched activities you two are engaged in.

your lover presses a series of chaste kisses on your shoulder blade like you are his revered goddess, seemingly unbothered by the sound of your wails and whines bouncing off the walls. if anything, he wants to show you off—after all, not everyone is lucky enough to have such precious songbird in their bed.

"still no answer, huh... need me to stop?" he queried, halting all movements as broad shoulders hunched down to loom over your smaller body, silver strands of hair cascading over your back—perhaps to purposely tickle the sensitive column of your neck, adding more stimulation and drawing out more of your sugary sweet voice he'd swallow like the wine he often shares with the quintet.

(your lover can be quite cruel sometimes.)

"g-gege!" you yelp, using the little energy you have left to find purchase in his arm and spoke between gasps, "no, nonono—don'... don't stop, gege, please... wan' you to go harder..."

(but he's never immune to your adorable pleas.)

he cannot help the chuckle that escapes his lungs, because finally, "that's my good girl—see, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" he croons, large hands finding purchase on your sides to maneuver you on your back, and you swore you felt his length twitches at the mere sight of you—mouth agape with a trail of drool running down the side of your mouth, tears clinging to your lashes and the apple of your cheeks, and—oh.

was that a little bump he's seeing on your tummy?

yingxing went silent for a few seconds, before he slowly—painfully so—slides his palm from down your torso, stopping atop your abdomen and pressing down on the slightly protruding flesh, successfully drawing out the most darling squeal out of your spit-slicked lips, followed by a subtle shudder of your body, "gege—! w-wait..."

the blacksmith pays you no mind as he begins moving again, battering your insides with renewed vigor, thrusting faster and shoving his girth deeper, relishing the sight of the bulge disappearing and reappearing with each jerk of his hips. you did beg for him for this, after all—he's just being a good husband and doing what his beloved wife wants him to do!

he gently cups your cheeks, admiring the cockdrunk look you have on your face before he shushes you with a light press of his lips against yours, "sshh, 's okay... cum for me, baobei—be a good girl and cum on my cock, will you?" the teasing lilt in his voice falters into a guttural groan as your walls constrict and gushes around his girth and triggering his orgasm. seeing how hard you're clamping down on him, it's safe to assume that you're trying to milk him dry, knocking the cockiness off his face as he pant on top of you.

once the blacksmith regained his composure, he brings his thumb down, rubbing hearts over your throbbing nub as he stills himself, gazing down at your juices mixed with his milky seed drivelling down your thighs and webbing his pubes. it's a sight awfully lewd and he can't stop the little aww it pulls from his lungs.

(you look your best when he's laid his claim on you.)

"are you alright?" he asks, keeping a close eye on your trembling form before he slather your smaller frame with his warmth, the plane of muscles serving as a shield and a reminder that you're safe with him, that he is here to take care of you.

you nod, dewed lashes fluttering up to meet his, "k-kiss—w'nna kiss, gege, please...?"

and of course he'd comply—when you're asking so politely even in this fucked-out state, colliding his lips with yours to devour the cherry-flavored drool that mingles with his own, eliciting a rather juvenile wish from the old man's heart; to stay this close for as long as forever.

[number8bciate]

I couldn't let myself forget you.

Set in season four, so spoilers ahead for that. This is based on episode five, I believe.

Cw: Lila and five in episode Five :P

You and five hadn't known one another long, a few years at most, but in that short amount of time, he had found himself growing quite attached to you. He wouldn't admit it outloud. That's just the kind of man he was. He didn't need anyone, but no one could understand him. He couldn't explain it either because he would sound just as insane as the people he had been investigating, but then there was you.

You were too nieve for your own good, but part of him loved you for it. It meant that anything he told you in your head made sense.

"Wait- that was our stop." Lila and Five spoke at the same time, pressing their hands and cheek against the door of the train as they tried to manipulate the train into going back but the platform that they needed to be on just got smaller and smaller and smaller.

Year one

Five thought about you all the time. When he was getting shot at, he thought of how you might bandage his wounds if he got hit or how you would scold him because he was in a dangerous situation. He sat down in the train station, watching Lila as she ate, wondering if she had been having the same thoughts about his brother, or if maybe she was thinking of her kids. He hated the fact that the memory of you was the only thing that kept him going, that kept him trying to get back home, not his family, but you... to be honest, you felt like his family now.

Year Two

"What's that?" Lila asked, peering over the older boys shoulder as she cut his hair for him, trying to catch a glimpse of what had been occupying his thoughts for the last few weeks. He shielded the book from her view, smacking it shut to ensure that she wouldn't see the contents. "Come on, Five!" She pressed, leaning over his shoulder, trying to grab his book, she thought it was harmless, he did not.

"Lila!" He yelled at her, with a different kind of tone in his voice, he was desperate, clearly, he was grieving too and she knew that but she was only trying to lighten the mood a little.

Year Three

Five had now filled three separate books with something in them, Lila wasn't sure what it was, but every time she tried to ask, she got a response not too far off a rabid dog that was protecting it's property, she knew it was important, which was why she wanted to know, which was why she waited until he was dead asleep to try and find out what it was one last time.

She skimmed through the pages that were mostly filled with useless words that made no sense put together, but Five's handwriting had never been the best anyway. She flipped through each page. Only one thing was recurring, and it was a random drawing of someone she knew but didn't know from where.

Year Four

The both of them were growing tired. It was hard to keep running and running with no sight of the end. Five knew Lila was fed up. He understood why, but he couldn't give up, not when he knew that you were still out there waiting for him because he knew you would be.

Year Five

"Hey Five." Lila leaned onto Five, both of them trying to find some sort of warmth between them as the cold metal of the train station dug into their backs. He hummed softly, looking around the room, trying to see if there was something they had missed. He knew there wasn't, but he thought he'd try anyway. "You know that greenhouse, the one with the strawberries?" She started, leaning her head fully on his shoulder now. He nodded, not willing to speak because he knew what her next suggestion would be. "How about we stop there for a few days? I- I know we've - I know we need to get home, I'm just... tired." He understood. Of course he did. He had been through this before, but the time before, he was all alone.

"Sure." He said softly, turning to look at the stacks of books that he had filled, he thought of you, and realized you'd want him to take a break, you'd beg him to, and so he decided he would go, but only for a few weeks.

Year Six

Five walked into the green house, looking at Lila and then the berry bush she was tending to. She tossed one strawberry at him, then another, then another. "If you keep that up, we won't have any left for the winter." He smiled as she threw one more and turned to her as she began walking towards him. She tripped up in a few watering cans that had been discarded on the floor, and he caught her just before she was able to hit the floor.

"Oh- sorry." He noticed the blush on her face, then felt his cheeks begin to heat. His hand rested on her cheek, cupping them and rubbing his fingers over her soft flesh, then he looked to the strawberries on the floor and pulled away, running to the stack of books on the table and joting down a few notes. "What just happened?" She walked over to him, her arms crossing as she leaned against the wall.

"What do you mean?" He asks, slamming the book shut and poking it into his bag. He turned to her, noticing that she had a slight pout across her face.

"Whatever that was." He stared at her for a while, shrugged his shoulders, and walked away.

Year Seven

"I'm going out to look for some more scrap metal."

"What happened to the stuff we already had?" Lila asked curiously, looking the boy up and down. He rubbed his fingers over the braclet in his pocket, the one he had made.

"I have no clue." He walked out of the house and back to the train station. He grabbed a few wires, tugging on them before he slipped and dropped his flashlight down onto the tracks. He looked both ways, just to be safe and climbed down onto them. "What's that?" He thought out loud as he grabbed a book he had never seen before. He climbed back up onto the train platform and opened the book. "That's my handwriting." He pointed out to himself as he read what was throughout the pages, figuring out that it was their way home.

"What's that?" Lila asked, sitting down next to him.

"A way home." He said simply, flipping through more of the pages, everything inside of his head clicking together like it had been obvious the whole time. He shook his head in disappointment in himself.

"Wait, what?" Lila asked, chasing after him as he ran back to their house and packed up his bag. "Should we think about this first?" She suggested.

"Think about what?" He asked, stuffing the books into his bag as he changed into what he had been wearing the day they had left.

"That- Maybe this is a trap of some sort? Set by the older, uh? Younger? You." She followed him around the house, trying to keep his pace as he charged out the door.

"I'm willing to take the risk, why aren't you?" He turns around. She almost smashed right into him.

"I am. I just think we need to consider the fact that this could be a trap." He understood her concern. Some people would rather not take the risk, there was a chance that this was a trap, and that they would die.

"Stay here if you want, I'm going." He decided and made his way back to the train station, her following closely behind him.

When they returned, it had only been an hour or two, you were sitting in between Allison and Luther and bounced your leg nervously, wondering where Five could have gone. Lila, walked in through the door followed by Five who's eyes searched the room until they landed on you. You jumped up out of your seat and ran over to him, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. He nearly cried, as much as he hated to admit it, his eyes welled with tears, feeling you pressed against him was something he didn't think he'd ever feel again. "I wasn't gone that long." His voice shook, but only slightly as you pulled away from him to check him for any injuries, because you knew how careless he could be.

"It was too long." You smiled though, no matter how pissed you were at him for not returning your calls or texts, you were just glad he was alright.

He looked around the room again and stuffed his hand onto his pocket, feeling the braclet that he had forgotten about. The two of you walked to the center of the room, you sat down where you had been and five remained standing, you glanced over to Lila who had a distant look in her eyes as she looked at her husband and then you looked back to five, who was now standing right infront of you, playing with something in his pocket.

Everyone's attention was brought to him as he cleared his throat, he knew it was sudden, and he knew he would jump off the side of a cliff if you happened to not reciprocate his feelings, but he dropped down onto one knee and pulled a bag out of his pocket. Allison, who was now sitting up straight with a face full of surprise gasped at the sight if her oldest brother on his knee.

"I- Jesus. Uhm." You looked to Lila who, unlike before, was now focused on Five, but it wasn't that unusual, right? Besides the fact that her face held signs of jealousy and sadness, it wasn't weird at all. Your heart fluttered when he held out his cupped hands towards you, his eyes pleading with you to take the bag that was in them. "Y/n.." He spoke carefully, as his cheeks began to redden as Allison's reaction threw him off the piller of confidence he was once standing on.

You nodded, ready to hear what he had to say, you hands grabbed the bag but remained in their place, trying to soothe the old man's nerves as he worked up the courage to speak. "Will you give me the honor of.. marrying me?" You squealed and jumped out of your seat, pulling Five to his feet and you kissed him. "Will you?" He whispered to you this time.

"Yes I will." You kissed him once more.

Once the excitement settled down, and the bracelet sat proudly on your wrist, you noticed the bag that your fiancé had brought in with him. "What's that?" You asked, pointing to the bag. He bit his lip nervously and pulled a few of the books he had filled up the bag. Revealing the contents to you. The words didn't make sense to you either, until you saw your face, the soft brush strokes that he used to draw your hair and your eyes, you had never looked so beautiful.

He kissed your cheek and whispered into your ear, his lips brushing against them. "I- I couldn't let myself forget you."

"You remembered I like strawberries." You pointed out, you ignored the way he flinched when you had mentioned it, but he ran his fingers over the words and nodded softly.

"Of course I did."

[cheriladycl01]

Hi!

Could you please write something for whichever f1 driver you want with a reader who's a children's books illustrator and author? Maybe they get to know each other because his niece is obsessed with her books and he took her to one of her events.

I'd like to see how the grid and the media would react to someone so bubbly, kind, and creative!

Thnx!! <3

My sunshine - Lewis Hamilton x ChildrensAuthor! Reader

Plot: Lewis comes home to find his niece and nephew obsessed with one lady’s books! Little did he know you’d end up being his whole future!

“What you reading there?” Lewis asked as he grabbed some fruit from the fridge and started to cut it up. Babysitting was one of his favourite free time activities.

“MAE THE MAGICIAN” they both yell at him, making him pause cutting the fruit. He knew his niece really enjoyed reading but to see his nephew so excited about this book was odd.

“Mmmm what’s it about?” Lewis asks as he starts to make little snack boxes for the two, ready to take them out to the park.

“This girl called Mae, and she helps Gaia and George using her Magic tricks, she’s funny” the girl describes to her favourite Uncle.

“Woah, what kind of magic tricks does she do?” He asks.

“She makes sure their homework is complete and their beds are made for when their mum gets home!” His nephew explains.

“Oh and then this book is good to. Can we show you our library uncle Lewis” his nephew begs looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes that he couldn’t say no too!

He follows them up, being taken to one of the smaller bedrooms that was being used as as playroom/ library. There was an expanse of books, but what caught his eye was how many of the same author there were.

It was the same one as the book they were reading from earlier. It seemed she had lots of kids books varying in ages from very young, basically just pictures books, to a series of books which reminded him of the Rainbow Magic Series that his brothers girlfriend had read when she was younger.

They all had titles of careers with a matching name. Both boys and girls.

Alex the Astrologist

Bianca the Brain Surgeon

Colin the Conductor

Daisy the Dragon Tamer

Ethan the Ecologist

Freya the F1 Driver

Who?

That intrigued him.

“Have you guys read all of these?” He asks with wide eyes.

“Of course! She’s the best! Our favourite” one of them exclaims as they re-order books that had been misplaced.

“Which ones your favourite?” He asks his nephew.

“She wrote one about me! Called Kaiden the Karate Master” he exclaims making chopping actions with his hands.

“And you?” He asks Willow.

“She wrote one about me to called Willow the Writer” she says shoving the book at him happily to which he looks through looking at all the cute little illustrations to which he later researched that they were actually drawn by the author as well.

Upon doing further research and trying to get some of her latest books on pre-order he went down a rabbit hole, finding her instagram which was incredibly cozy and just what he expected from an author.

There was a few posts of her charity work and what she did around her community. The links led him to her official website where she had her various charities, an about her page that he couldn’t help but browse but he also saw a part where it showed up and coming events.

“Willow? Kaiden? How would you feel about going to meet Y/N Y/L/N, maybe get a few books signed?” He asks the next morning, wondering whether that would be something they were into.

“YES!” They’d both screamed.

He sent you a DM on Instagram explaining that he was planning on bringing his niece and nephew to your book signing in London. You replied immediately which shocked him, explaining you’d be more than happy to do a private signing afterwards for him and his family and how you were a huge fan of his.

At the book signing.

You were pretty exhausted after the public signing and needed to have a break and just grab a drink where your throat was on fire for talking as much as you had.

But within the hour you were ready to see Lewis and his niece and nephew. They were so polite to you when you stood up to greet them and what shocked Lewis even more is how easily you communicated to the younger kids.. It was like second nature to you how you used your hands to basically animate everything you say to make you seem so youthful and energetic.

“Hi I’m Lewis and this is Willow and Kaiden” he introduced and from after that he was insanely smitten with you, everything you did he would watch with wide eyes.

You spent the time interacting with the kids and signing the copious amounts of books that they had bought for you to sign. You also talked to them about upcoming stuff that they would enjoy where they had really liked your career series for young children.

“Hey I know you might think this is a little soon but I’d really like to take you out some time, for dinner” he asked one his sibling had taken the kids outside to the car say that he could ask you some more personal questions. They ranged from what you enjoyed to how you got into writing children’s books specifically.”

“Well, I think I would really like that, I don’t think I’ve ever been out on a proper date” she smiles looking down and blushing lightly at the comment.

”Never been on a proper date, I’ll have to treat you right then?” he smirks looking over you.

“Where would we go?” You ask politely starting to collect the books left over from the signing.

“Out to a restaurant or a movie, maybe a picnic at some point when it’s warmer the weather isn’t great right now” he says stepping closer to her.

After the book signing you and Lewis went on dates, lots of them and to say his niece and nephew were excited was an understatement you would randomly turn up to family events and they’d start to get your books early and not published Waterstones versions that normally were gifted to them.

“Baby I really want you to come to a race with me, I want to show you off to everyone there and how cute you are. I bet the grid will love you just as much as I do. Actually scrap that, that’s impossible” he smiles and you can’t help but giggle.

“Of course I’ll come with you Lew” you smile leaning across him and kissing his check, before gripping his hands and holding them.

“You ready to meet everyone?” He asks with that soft chocolaty voice that could make you melt.

“I think so, I’m just kind of nervous what they’ll think” you say a light blush forming into your face wondering if you’d embarrass yourself on camera, or if they’d ask you questions … it was hard.

“Well, for the record I know they’ll love you. You want a run down?” And you of course nod wanting to know as much as possible.

“Well, there’s my teammate Charles who you’ll probably meet first in the garage. You’ll love his girlfriend Alex she’s a diamond and you’ll talk about fashion no doubt!” He grins and you not trying to take in the names knowing more are to come.

He talks about his ex team-mates George and Valtteri and how you’d get on with both of them pretty well. He also knew Lando and Daniel would love you, as you all had very similar bubbly people personality’s.

He was excited to show you off to not just them but everyone, you weren’t like the other Hollywood Stars and actresses you were just so … normal? NOT that he would ever describe you as that, because that almost felt like an insult to you.

“Are you nervous baby?” He asks looking over to you as he pulls into the paddock.

“A little, I’ve never been around this many people here before” you say looking over to him, grabbing onto his hand on the gear stick.

“You’ll be fine, and you’ll finally get to watch me in my job. I love watching you write and draw but I want you to see what I do” he nods and you smile, loving this side of Lewis.

He had this intimacy that you’d never experienced with anyone else. Little things he appreciated knowing that you’d never had with anyone else.

You walked through the paddock together scanning your little pass on the thing seeing an awful picture of you come up that Lewis must have submitted.

“Lewis what the hell!” You asked gazing at the picture he’d chosen.

“What! I love that photo of you!” He smiles happily gazing at you looking at the picture that slowly disappears.

“Come on, let’s get you to the garage so you can get familiar with everything” he smiles a hand sneaking round your waist as he guides you through the bustling paddock.

When you enter Ferrari Garage your greeted by all the mechanics, a lot of them with young children knowing exactly who you are and wanting pictures to show their kids when they got home.

Charles and Alexandra greeted you only 30 minutes later and you and Alex got along great, taking Roscoe and Leo for walks around the paddock while she tried to help you adjust to all the hustle and bustle of life in motorsport.

“So how long have you and Lewis been together now?” Alex asked with a small polite smile.

“Oh! It feels like forever! He’s only been so sweet and like to me” you grin, your voice getting louder and louder as you talk about Lewis. Alex notices and can’t help but smile at how you’re talking about Lewis.

After meeting Alex and Charles the next people you ended up meeting was Lando and Oscar. Lewis had asked you to grab his water bottle from the car which he’d left behind and you got lost on your way back the two McLaren drivers immediately noticing and recognising you.

They helped you back to the garage just as they were being called for the race and that they needed to get into the car.

Then next thing you knew as you were watching Lewis come round a corner, a little drift as skidded in the gravel but caught himself well enough that it didn’t lessen his time too much.

Then you were casted on the TV screens and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.

You gave a polite little wave and grin to the camera before it panned off of you and back onto the race.

“And that’s Y/N Y/L/N she’s the current partner of Lewis Hamilton and she’s a very well known author of children’s books, ones that actually my own children read and I just know they are going to be kicking their feet that I got to meet her today” the commentator offers with a little chuckle.

“Yeah what did you think of her?” The other commentator for Sky Sports asks.

“Ah she’s just so sweet, she wouldn’t stop talking about her writing and I was more than happy to listen and she was so polite and happy and god’s I want her in the paddock more often, she’s such a little ray of sunshine”

After all the excitement, you had this energy around you that you couldn’t describe and it gave you loads of writing juices. You got home to the hotel that night and you wrote down all your ideas, sat in Lewis lap.

You knew for sure you’d be coming back to way more races and you’d been missing out!

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[adverbally]

Think of the Tender Things

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “‘Keep breathing, please.’” | wc: 773 | rated: T | cw: hospital, premature baby | tags: adoption, new parent anxiety, hopeful ending | title from “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” by Simple Minds

———

The NICU has its own window, far enough from the regular nursery to seem intentional. It makes sense to Eddie, theoretically speaking— keep the preemies and the sick babies away from the healthy ones so the comparison isn’t so startling. It just doesn’t work that well if they have to walk past the full-term nursery anyway.

They pause to observe the fat, happy newborns who will be going home in the next day or two. They’re all chubby cheeks and chunky limbs, round little tummies swaddled tightly with matching caps on their heads, just like the parenting books advertise.

Steve’s hand squeezes his, and Eddie knows he’s feeling the same thing: that’s how it should’ve been, and all of the guilt and fear and bitterness that goes along with that line of thinking.

They keep walking down the hall until they reach the door indicating the special care nursery. The glass there is smaller, since fewer babies fit in a room when they’re surrounded with incubators and ventilators and monitors galore.

The second bassinet from the right has a card with a stork that says “Baby Boy Munson” and wow, that’s going to take some time to get used to. Eddie gets closer, almost pressing his nose against the glass, to get a better look.

“He’s so small,” Steve says beside him. “I figured he would be, but…”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. It says right there on the little card: three pounds, thirteen ounces. Sixteen inches long. Not the smallest baby there but noticeably smaller than the ones they just walked past. “A lot of hair, too.”

“Yeah.”

They’re quiet after that. There’s not much they can comment on before they have to acknowledge the fact that they’ve just become adoptive parents a full two months ahead of schedule.

Their son (holy shit) seems even smaller with the tubes and wires obscuring him. Eddie identifies an oxygen cannula, a feeding tube, chest leads, an IV, and a blood pressure cuff, plus a few other lines he doesn’t know the purpose of. When you factor in a diaper that seems to dwarf half of his tiny body, there’s barely any skin visible. And from what Eddie understands, they’re lucky that more serious care isn’t necessary.

“Thirty-two weeks. That’s not… it could be worse,” Steve said after they got the call from the adoption agency that morning. The whole drive to the hospital, he rambled about lung maturity and the suck/swallow reflex and birth weight, going into one of Eddie’s ears and out the other as he tried to focus on the road.

Steve was the one who read all the books. Even the parts about premature births and what could go wrong throughout the pregnancy. “I’d just rather know and be prepared,” he explained. “Just to cover our bases.”

Eddie had skipped those chapters. It felt like bad luck, like tempting fate or something, as if avoiding it would prevent anything from happening. In retrospect, he wishes he had more of a clue about what’s going on, what their future will look like.

Any future seems far away when the present is so uncertain. Eddie watches his son squirm, with his too-long limbs and his too-big head, and he watches his chest rise and fall with each breath. His tiny lungs are working and he’s moving and none of his machines are beeping, and that has to be enough for now.

Just keep breathing, please, he thinks desperately. Keep growing and getting stronger and we’ll worry about the rest later.

When Steve breaks the silence, his voice is small. “Do you think we can hold him? Or, or touch him, at least?”

Eddie doesn’t want to. He knows it’s just his anxiety talking, but he’s terrified that he’ll pull some essential line or do something wrong. He was supposed to have another two months to prepare for this. How do people prepare for this?

“Ed, are you okay?” Steve’s voice startles him back into awareness.

“Yeah, just…” He pauses to think about how to say it without alarming Steve. He settles on, “I’m scared.”

Steve throws his arms around Eddie’s neck and pulls him into a tight hug. “I’m scared, too,” he confesses in a whisper. “I think we’re gonna keep being scared for the next eighteen years, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do it.”

Eddie tucks his nose just under Steve’s ear and breathes him in, sweet shampoo and hints of spicy cologne in the collar of his jacket. They stay like that for long moments before Eddie sighs and pulls away with a decisive nod. “Okay. Let’s go meet our son.”

[reidmarieprentiss]

Love in the Details

Summary: Spencer helps you while wedding planning.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff & comfort

Warnings/Includes: wedding stress, reader is planning on wearing a dress

Word count: 1.2k

a/n: i don’t even want a conventional wedding but if spencer reid himself asked me to plan one i’d drop everything just to make sure i planned it perfectly

main masterlist

Planning a wedding is supposed to be one of the happiest times in your life, but right now, it feels like you’re drowning. Invitations, venue tours, dress fittings, cake tastings—the list goes on and on, and it’s all piling up, threatening to bury you alive.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Spencer’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He looks at you with concern, his warm brown eyes filled with worry.

You sigh heavily, sinking onto the couch. “I don’t know, Spencer. There’s just so much to do, and it feels like we’re not making any progress. I’m completely overwhelmed.”

Spencer sits beside you, taking your hands in his. “I know it’s a lot, but we’re in this together. We can handle it. Let’s break it down into smaller tasks and tackle them one at a time. What’s the most pressing thing we need to do right now?”

You take a deep breath, trying to focus. “The guest list. We need to finalize the guest list so we can send out the invitations. But every time I look at it, it just keeps growing. I don’t know how we’re going to fit everyone. Why did we invite anyone? I thought we didn’t have any friends.”

“Okay, well, we do have friends. And we have to invite them, and our families” Spencer laughs, pulling out his laptop. “Let’s go through the list together. We’ll see if there are any names we can remove or if we need to look into bigger venues.”

You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling a bit of the weight lift off your chest. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone. It’s supposed to be our special day, but I can’t help worrying about making everyone else happy.”

Spencer gently tilts your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes. “Our wedding is about us. It’s about celebrating our love and commitment to each other. Our family and friends are important, but this day is ours. We need to focus on what makes us happy.”

You nod, feeling stress tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "You’re right. I just need to remember that."

"Exactly," Spencer says, smiling softly as he squeezes your hand. "What else do you need to get done?"

You sigh, leaning back into the couch. "I need to book a couple of venue tours. No one is getting back to me or answering my calls. It's like they're purposefully ignoring a very stressed bride-to-be."

Spencer chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I'm sure that's not the case, babe."

"Feels like it," you mutter, frustration evident in your voice.

"I know," Spencer whispers, kissing your forehead tenderly. "What else?"

You groan, rubbing your temples. "I haven't picked an invitation style. I narrowed it down to two, but every time I think I know which one to pick, the other one starts looking better."

"Okay... anything else?" he asks, his tone gentle and supportive.

"A cake tasting with that bakery you like, booking the caterer, and fixing the—oh my god! The flowers!" you whine, tossing yourself back into the couch dramatically.

Spencer raises an eyebrow, his concern deepening. "Okay, deep breaths. What's wrong with the flowers?"

"I told him my favorite flowers, and he put in our whole order for the wrong ones! Our wedding is ruined," you exclaim, your voice breaking with stress.

"Oh, my love. Nothing is ruined." Spencer moves the laptop aside and grabs your hands, pulling you close. "Why don't I run you a nice warm bath so you can relax and reset? How does that sound?"

You nod, albeit a bit childishly, allowing Spencer to pull you up and guide you towards the bathroom. His touch is soothing, and you feel a glimmer of ease as he opens the door.

Spencer is so sweet and understanding, always knowing exactly what you need. He starts the bath, adjusting the water temperature to your liking, and adds some of your favorite bath salts. The calming aroma begins to fill the room, easing some of your tension.

As the tub fills, he turns to you with a gentle smile. "Why don't you get undressed and get in? I'll be right back."

You do as he says, slipping into the warm water with a sigh of relief. Spencer returns with a towel, a glass of water, and a small plate of your favorite snacks. He places them within reach and kneels beside the tub, his fingers trailing through the water.

"How does that feel?" he asks softly, his eyes full of love.

"Perfect," you whisper, already feeling the stress start to melt away.

Spencer's hands move to your shoulders, massaging gently. His fingers work out the knots and tension, and you close your eyes, leaning into his touch.

"Take your time," he murmurs. "When you're ready, you can take a nap. You’ve done so much already, you deserve a break"

You feel a wave of gratitude wash over you, sinking further in the tub.

—

When you wake from your nap, the house is unusually quiet. You stretch, feeling much more rested, but a bit disoriented. Spencer is nowhere to be found, which is odd. You slip out of bed and pad down the hallway, eventually hearing his voice coming from his office. Curious, you follow the sound.

“It has to be those flowers. If any other flowers show up, I will not hesitate to rain down on your establishment with the full force of the law for any and every minute flaw that I know exists… okay, okay. Thank you very much for your time, sir. Happy to do business with you too.”

You stand in the doorway, eyebrows raised. “What was that?”

Spencer turns around, a smile spreading across his face when he sees you. “Oh, nothing… just fixed the flower debacle.”

“No, you did not… how?”

Spencer coughs, looking a bit sheepish. “Uh, just charm and patience, baby.”

“So… that wasn’t the flower guy I heard you threatening?”

“Me? Threatening someone? Oh no, baby! You must be feverish! You’re hearing things! You need to lay back down!” Spencer flairs dramatically, pulling you into a tight hug.

You laugh, leaning into his embrace. “Okay, okay. Thank you, Spence. I appreciate you so much.”

“Of course. I know how much stress you were under. I just wanted to lighten the load,” he says lovingly, kissing the top of your head. “Speaking of… I finalized the guest list, ordered the invitations, we have venue tours and a cake tasting this Saturday. Might be kind of busy, and that caterer you really wanted is available!”

He rushes out all this information in one breath, his excitement and eagerness evident.

Your eyes widen in surprise and gratitude. “You did all that? Spencer, you’re amazing.”

He grins, looking pleased with himself. “I just want our day to be perfect, and for you to feel as little stress as possible. We’re in this together, remember?”

You nod, feeling a swell of emotion. “I know, and I’m so grateful for you. Thank you for everything. I love you.”

Spencer leans in, kissing you softly. “I love you too. I’ll do anything for you, my love. Now, how about we relax for the rest of the day? You’ve earned it.”

You smile, feeling the weight of your earlier stress lift completely. This is the man you’re marrying, the man who will threaten a florist just so your wedding day is perfect. You couldn’t be more in love.

[circeyoru]

Darkest Confession _ Part 2

[Human!Alastor x Serial Killer Enthusiast!Reader]

Part 1

Part 2 (here)

You’d say that it was a joke if you didn’t see those eyes and that smile. You’re not obsessed and addicted to serial killers without knowledge. No. You could only keep this self of you that hidden because you adapted some skills these serial killers use to blend in and be ‘normal’ like theyy haven’t killed, only you use it to hide your interest

You were attracted to serial killers, now there’s one that was holding you, presumably in his hunting and killing ground, confessing his love(?) to you and wanted to court you. Though the biggest question you had was, “Why did you confess?”

“My dear dear unusual soul, my feelings for you are like a raging ocean. What started as mere interest became fondness. Even now,” Alastor’s grin widened as his eyes narrowed to make way, “You have that spark in your eyes instead of fear. I love that about you. I love you.”

Was it Christmas or your birthday? Or was this April Fool’s? All in one? It was no sick joke. Alastor jokes and all, but this was a serious matter

This had to be your luck all put into one. Not only was he the serial killer that held your interest the longest, but you also cared for his civilian self. The previous killers that held your interest was over once the case was over or once you had figured them out from every perspective. Maybe it was because Alastor was the one killer that you connected as a person?

The tightened hold of your smaller hands brought you back to reality, your killer was waiting for your response. “My darling, your answer? May I court you? Will you be mine and in turn I yours?”

“Yes, you may.” Your voice came out firmer than your current rush of emotions. You hardly caught yourself when Alastor got up in the blink of an eye and twirled you around, dancing with you under the moonlight as he sang you a train of petnames and how he was glad there’d be no drastic measures taken to receive your interest

Changes were made, namely you had Alastor’s attention a lot more than the unspoken meet-ups you two shared. He’d be at your place, waiting for you by the door with a bouque of flowers and a poem to woo you, he’d back you home when you were done with work, all that romantic stuff. It had the jealous fans at a frenzy as they watched from somewhere or happened to see it

Though, you weren’t complaining

“Filthy thing, you better say away from Alastor! We’re destined for each other! You break of with him if you know what’s good for you! I’d kill you for him!” You merely keep your face neutral as you listened to the death threats, please, words are cheap and actions. Actions speak louder than words

“Darling! Sorry to kept you waiting!” Alastor burst through the front door with a smile, beaming happily like always, but more. You waved it off, saying you didn’t wait long. You had been sitting in the living room enjoying tea with a book on dissection, you recall Jack the Ripper had those skills. “Come, dear, I have something to show you.”

He’d lead you down a well hidden staircase to a soundproof basement, holding your hand like a gentleman so you wouldn’t trip from the darkness. He playfully covered your eyes, saying it was s surprise gift. You half joked if he was leading you to a room prepared to be your torture chamber to which he replied, “Oh heavens no! I wouldn’t even dream of it, dear. Your beauty is not to be locked up in this dingy place.”

When he finally removed his hand, he showed you with jazz hands at your gift

Alastor watched like a hawk. He debetted whether or not he should show something like this to you. But your case files you stored like precious family heirloom proved him otherwise. You weren’t afraid of blood and gore. He even once tested it when he brought you back into the forest, showing you how he hunted his favourite prey, deers. You were watching intensely as he cut the shot deer up, even whispering if that was how he did with his other prey

Your keen and observant eyes would catch onto details like no other. A skill even he couldn’t match to your degree and he considered and was praised for his preciseness. It was a skill you kept to yourself, you explained that’s why you’d return to previous crime scenes or where the bodies were found, because you’d find some clues that were missed

“Why didn’t you tip the authorities?” He remember asking when you added that you never phone the police even when finding something very very incrimadating. You answer saying you didn’t want to, you knew good and bad, right and wrong. It was right to tell the police, but it felt wrong for you to betray your interest, that being serial killers and their art. He fell for you all over again

However, he didn’t like that you gave so much of your time and energy to other serial killers. Sure now he had you, what if there was someone more interesting and you turn to that instead of him like you are doing now? He was lucky that he was the first serial killer you met during active moments. Hell, you were lucky you were never preyed upon

“There was one time where I tracked an active serial killer to his place. I was knocked out before I could investigate more. When I woke up, I was tied up and he wanted my eyes, wanted me to feel the pain and agony while I was tortured.” Oh how furious when he hear that but continued to listen. “As much as it’s a dream to be killed by a serial killer, I wasn’t feeling that ‘spark’ with that one and I escaped. After that, I phoned the authorities anonymously.”

“Why was he different? Won’t you feel like a betrayal?”

That look in your eyes when you remarked, it sent him a shiver while his smile widened at your words. “He wasn’t ‘the one’ and I didn’t like him. I look into every serial killer and he falls short. Can’t let him dirty my collection, so I had to put him out of his work.” When your eyes met him, there was interest and something more, “Have I told you your case is the most interesting and loving by far. There’s actually that ‘spark’ that I never felt before.”

That was it. He knew you were the one. The one for him. And him the one for you

Oh, how his blood boiled when some fan of his threatened for you to leave him. “This piece of flesh had the audacity to threaten the love of my life. My dear, my gift for you, is her life.”

You feel your face heat up as Alastor smiled brightly at you. As morbid as it was, you, a normal person off the streets, caught the attention of a serial killer that just so happened to hold your obsession and addiction for the longest time. Even having you to care and love him like a lover. Well, your family would be happy you have a lover, just not one they wanted you to have

Alastor hated physical touches unless he initiated it, but you were his exception to a lot of things. You ran up and hugged him, planting a kiss on his lips, a gesture he melted into and returned ten fold as the seconds passed

So this was love? A twisted and dark love

As Alastor got to work, you stood at a safe and suitable distance away to observe and note down everything. You wanted Alastor to be in his serial killer zone without outside interruptions. You wanted him to be in his element without a worry

This was the change you love and wouldn’t complain. You merely wish you met him sooner, so you didn’t have to waste your time and energy, as Alastor would phase it, on other unworthy serial killers

But all good things must come to an end. You were diagnosed with an incurable disease. Alastor used his fame and wealth to find you the best doctors and gave you the best treatment, yet you were getting no better with time. You didn’t have long to live and both of you can’t stand for that. The two of you were about to get married and everything would be all the more better!

“Love.” Alastor held your hand, the other held his signature weapon. “My Muse, are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You smiled up at him innocently. It was a request before you were killed by something you’d regret and detest. No way were you dying from that. “Please, show me your first hunt.”

Out of nowhere, Alastor took out a hunting knife and jabbed it into the side of your stomach, it didn’t hit any major organs or blood vessels. You instantly fell back, immediately gripping onto your side to keep the blood loss at a minimum. You looked up to Alastor, the loving look changed

“My father was my first prey. I stabbed him like so.” Alastor explained, then he pointed his shotgun in your face, “And then I gave him hope that he can escape.”

You kicked the gun out of his hold and got up, running deeper into the forest. A gunfire rang behind you and pain came to your left shoulder. You hit into a tree when your right ankle was shot through. Stumbling into the ground as everything became blurry. When you came too, the barrel of the gun was once again in your face

“I caught up to him and I did to you now.” Alastor narrated. “And fired.”

“And that was our love story.” You sighed dreamily as you finished the last of your tea, putting it down on your saucer. “Married and happy~”

The members of the hotel all stared at you with horrided looks, save for Niffty as she seemed to be taking notes for her own bad boy catching.

“But he killed you!” Vaggie exclaimed.

“I asked him too! He rejected it so many times that I loss count! Well, not really, but you get the idea.” You mused as you snapped your fingers, making a tea pot appear and refill your cup. Sipping it with grace and a small smile. “It’s my dream to be killed by a serial killer, you see, but none gave me that spark like Alastor. Honestly,” You lowered your tea, staring into the surface of the liquid to see your own reflection, you don’t understand what ‘look in your eye’ you got like Alastor does, “I’m forever grateful that Alastor made the first move to confess. Else I’d never have such a fulfilling life!”

Angel gave you a disgusted look, “That’s messed up on so many levels.”

Static came as pressure built in the room, while you sat comfortably in your seat, drinking your tea. The shadows twisted and rose to form your darling husbands enraged with radio dials for eyes and voodoo symbols around him. “Dear Angel, what did you say about my darling wife’s words?”

Angel hide behind Charlie and Vaggie as he peeked his head out, looking into your direction as if to beg for your help. 

You smiled, “He means messed up in a good way. You need to keep up with the modern terms, love.”

Alastor snapped to you, his demonic aura all gone as he took your hand and kissed it like it would break with the slightest force. “And forget the wonderful time when we met? Never.”

Note: Hehe, added a bit of more formal writing for the ending. That's what I usually write in, this bullet-point format is new to me but very fast to write everything I want with limited time~ (⚈ᴥ⚈)

Circe Y.

MASTERLIST

Taglist: (the people who wanted a part 2 for this)

@suya-x-syx

@speedycoffeedelight

@just-here-reading

[disabilityreminders]

Tips for Cleaning

Cleaning is one of those tasks that a lot of us find exhausting, overwhelming or just overall daunting for a number of reasons. It could be related to executive dysfunction, disabilities or just feeling overall burnt out. 

While it’s a good reminder that your space not being clean doesn’t affect your worth in any way, sometimes being in a mess makes us feel worse and we really want to fix it. The question is, where can you start when it’s already so overwhelming? 

Please keep in mind that a lot of my suggestions might not work for you personally. And if that’s the case, that’s really valid but hopefully they can help you come up with your own ideas! 

This might be more overwhelming for some, so don’t do this if you think this wouldn’t work for you. But for me personally, I like to go into a room and make a list of that room. This list might include wiping things down, sweeping, moving garbage, etc. I do this for any and all rooms I have the energy for. Having a written list makes it feel less overwhelming to me. I can just pick an item and cross it off. I tend to cross off the quicker/easier items first because making my list look smaller makes it seem more manageable. You can break the tasks down as much or as little as you want. I personally like to have “wash dishes”, “put away dishes” as two separate tasks while others might just want to put “dishes.” 

If you can’t think of things to put on the list, I find that googling some generic cleaning lists helps me get started and reminds me of what tasks to include. 

Now I’d like to share some general tips for cleaning when it’s overwhelming that help me! 

Break it Into Little Steps

There aren’t really any major rules for cleaning. Things got a lot easier for me when I realized I don’t have to do it all at once. When I’ve had the dishes pile up in the past beyond a point of manageable for me, I made a deal with myself. Every time I went to use a new dish, I had to wash that dish and one other dish (or a couple utensils). This ensured that the pile gradually got smaller each time I used a dish but made it a manageable amount for me. 

The same can be said for things like folding laundry. I would fold a piece anytime I walked into my bedroom. I would pick up garbage anytime I walked by it and toss it. Over time, it felt like it looked more manageable and I was able to just focus and get it all done. Sometimes we find this helps us jumpstart the task because for me, starting is the hard part. But once I start, I’m able to keep going. Telling myself I only have to do “two dishes” or “dishes for 5 minutes” made it seem a lot more manageable to look at it as a small thing. But often I’d find as I got going that I was able to keep going. 

Combine it With Something You Enjoy

For me, cleaning while doing something I enjoy has helped a lot! I love to fold laundry while I watch my comfort show. It’s one of those tasks that I can do while still doing something I love. I find I don’t focus so much on the folding and the pile is getting smaller before I know it. 

Some other ideas of things you can do: 

Listen to a playlist that makes you feel pumped up (maybe even have a dance party if you're up to it.)

Listen to an audio book or podcast

Have a show playing in the background that you enjoy

While it’s considered its own thing as “body doubling” sometimes, having company helps. Even if that’s just talking to a friend on the phone, or even texting with a friend while we both clean our own spaces. It’s kind of like an accountability buddy and leaves me feeling like I’m not doing it alone. 

Make cleaning a game! This might include things like picking a colour and then only dealing with things with that colour like only folding blue clothing, washing blue dishes, etc. This might include rolling dice and assigning certain tasks to certain numbers. Or it might be something silly like cleaning while pretending you're your favourite character or even something like a robot. You could use mannerisms or phrases that they would use and react to things how you think they would. (It might be fun to pretend to be a villain having to do your own chores because your "minion" disappeared for the day. How unimpressed would they be? What would they say while they folded laundry?)

Adjust the Tasks to be Easier for You

One thing that holds me back from cleaning is I’m in a lot of pain usually. Things got a lot easier for me once I realized that I can make adjustments as needed. For me, even though I can’t do it all at once, I found sitting to sweep was really helpful! 

Other ideas:

Use disposable cleaning wipes. There are even disposable options for toilet wands and things like that! I found the act of filling up a bowl with hot water and cleaner to be the thing that would freeze me. Just grabbing a wipe, or using a spray and paper towel was a game changer for me. 

While a lot of people do this already, I’ve heard others that don’t but I definitely recommend soaking your dishes in hot, soapy water. It makes them significantly easier to wash. 

Get a duster with an extendable handle so you don’t have to get up on chairs or things like that. 

Invest in a grabber tool. This is a tool that can be used to grab things in hard to reach places, or if you have difficulty bending. 

Get a chair that's easy to move around. This can allow you to do tasks like sweeping or wiping stuff down while sitting. I personally have a rolling chair!

Some General Tips 

If you’re finding it too overwhelming to start, try setting a timer for something like “10 minutes” and then see what you can get done in 10 minutes. You could start by grabbing all the garbage, or clearing a table or something that’s straight forward and can help you start. 

Don’t overdo it. It’s okay to pace yourself. In fact, you should. Take your time getting caught up, and once you do, try to do something small every day rather than trying to cram a lot into one day. 

It’s okay to just do one thing. This kind of ties back into how I caught up on my dishes. My friend has to pack to move and she’s having to organize her things into what she’s packing, donating, or discarding. She made a deal with herself that each day she would handle a set number of items. (A number like 5, 10, or 15). If you need to de-clutter, planning on finding just 5 items a day to get rid of might be a good place to start. 

Find some structure. I personally like printing a cleaning planner that breaks down my weekly, monthly and sometimes tasks that are every few months. It also helps me because I’m not sure how often I should be doing things like cleaning out my fridge, or bigger tasks like that. Having a check list and when I should be doing it helps a lot. 

It’s okay to ask for help! I know that we often feel ashamed of asking for help, or showing someone our space if we don’t think it’s clean enough. But it is absolutely okay to ask a friend for help. My friend regularly found laundry exhausting and overwhelming. When it fell behind on her, it paralyzed her. I would go and fold her laundry for her. And it helped her feel less bad about that when she’d do me a favour. (For example, she loves to cook and I’m often too drained to, so she made me some meal prep.) 

Find products you like! I love using certain scented products and while I never get excited about cleaning, there is something I enjoy about smelling them! 

Focus on one room at a time if you can. When it’s overwhelming, I even just pick a corner of the room and work my way out. 

Reward yourself! This might not work for everyone, but I love doing this. If I do this one task, then I get to do something fun. I’ve actually assigned tasks certain point amounts because I love seeing my “points” climb up and then I get a bigger reward at bigger numbers. (Also I always recommend cute stickers for your lists!) 

Take a before picture or video. Sometimes, we find that we can’t see progress despite being at it for awhile. It’s easier to forget where you started and seeing the progress can be really motivating! 

You don't have to follow a set of rules! What I mean by this is it's okay if you don't put away your dishes. Just because you've been taught that's a part of doing dishes doesn't mean you have to put them away. If it doesn't bother you, it's totally okay to leave the clean dishes in the sink and use them as needed! Try and get it out of your head that you need to follow a certain set of rules and do what's right for you.

Cleaning is overwhelming. While a cleaner living space can make us feel better mentally, I do want to remind you again that living in a mess is not a moral failure. You aren’t less worthy if you’re in a mess. You are still worthy, valuable and enough as you are. 

[babygorewhore]

Enter Sandman

Rafe Cameron x fem alternative reader!

After being hired by Rafe Cameron to be Wheezies music teacher, he asks you to give him his own lesson.

Hi so this is kinda short and I lowkey wanna burn it. And is it self inserted? Yes. But that’s fine. Anyway. Warnings! Oral! Male receiving! Daddy kink! Unprotected sex and praise requested by @gri959 I hope you like it baby!!! Dividers by @xxbimbobunnyxx and barely proofread please be nice to me I’m sensitive.

Getting the email that Rafe Cameron hired you to be Wheezies music instructor truly was the last thing you expected Monday morning after opening your computer. You scoffed and had half a mind to reject the offer. You’d known each other through high school and he was an asshole to you. Made fun of your pogue status, style and your role in the band you were in. You’d even slapped him across the face one morning when he’d really pissed you off.

But you were both adults now. And the pay wasn’t something you could afford to say no to. Wheezie was requesting singing and guitar lessons. You worked for a company that sent you to Kooks homes for hour sessions. Sometimes two if they doubled the offer. You were scheduled today at four to go to his house.

It gave a list of her experience in the email and it wasn’t much. She’d briefly been in choir before her fathers death completely changed her schooling. You honestly felt sorry for her. First the loss of her father and now she was apparently living with Rafe.

You sighed and went to your music room where you kept special instruments and books for students. You selected a small electric acoustic guitar, one with a smaller body and thinner neck to accommodate her size. It was smooth to the touch as you gently picked up the case as you slung the bag filled with beginner books across your body and made your way out of the door of your apartment.

The house was even larger than you’d imagined when you arrived and parked in the driveway. You swallowed to give your dry mouth moisture as your boots crunched the pavement as you walked the path to the front porch.

You square your shoulders and ring the door bell.

Wheezie answered and gave you a grin. Her eyes brightened as she swept them over your instrument and she ushered you inside. “You’re right on time!”

“Yeah! I try to be.” You smiled at her as she walked you to the living room, the large space immaculately clean. You felt nervous to sit down in fear you’d mess up a pillow or something.

The first twenty minutes you established goals, genre, her vocal type and finally a lesson plan. She was a willing student and picked up on the first round of exercises rather quickly. A spark of excitement went through you as you adjusted her fingers on the neck of the guitar, she wasn’t quite strong enough to make a lot of noise on the strings but it wasn’t bad.

“You can stop watching us, weirdo.” She says and breaks your concentration as you tune your guitar again and your head snaps to the right.

Rafe was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his expression intrigued as he studied your hands holding the neck and body as you absentmindedly strummed. “Oh, hey.” You forced a polite smile and he nodded.

You stand and gently place the instrument on the stand. You walk over to him, listening as Wheezie hums her exercise and attempts a power chord. “Thank you for hiring me. I was surprised to see the email.”

He shrugs with a little eye roll. “Yeah, well you’re good. I remember you playing back in high school.” You snort and cross your arms.

“Yeah? I remember you being an asshole to me.” You remark and he gives you a half smirk.

“How can I make it up to you? Wanna teach me a couple things? You can show me how to play Enter Sandman. Isn’t that what your band played at the competition?”

“And won.” You smiled and he chuckled. “You serious about me teaching you something?”

“Sure. I mean I’m going to have to hear it for months aren’t I? Might as well fuck around a little.” You bristle at the flippant wave of his hand before nodding. “We can go in here.” He gestures with his head before walking to the other room.

“Hang tight, okay?” You tell Wheezie who gives you a half hearted mhm.

You follow him after grabbing your guitar, trailing after his tall body as he meanders to the kitchen and sits down at the table. “What? You don’t want Wheezie to hear you?” You raise your eyebrows.

“She’s fine. Are you afraid to be alone with me or something?” Rafe challenges and goosebumps rise on your arms.

“No. Of course not. I just don’t know why you’d want to hide your poor attempt at playing a secret.” You snort and he scoffs.

“You think I’ll be terrible? My own teacher, doubting me? I’m hurt, baby.” He places a hand on his heart and your own flutters at the nickname before you clear your throat.

“Well, let’s get started.”

He takes the guitar and places it across his lap. Rafe runs his fingers along the strings, testing them as his rings squeak against them. You move to settle in the seat next to him before he bends his hand awkwardly, his wrist shifting and you quickly stop him.

“No, no, see if you do that, it’s going to hurt overtime. What you want to do is relax your wrist,” you step behind him and lean down, adjusting his hold. Your mouth inches away from his ear. “Okay…that’s better. Good job,” You mutter and you notice a patch of his skin heating.

Rafe moves in his chair, his legs spreading wider and you place your fingers on top of his. “Perfect. That’s great. Just keep the pressure there. Don’t strain your arm.”

“Mmm, sounds like you enjoy telling me what to do, huh?” He quips and you pause. You go to move around him but he catches your arm. “No, keep going. I like hearing you boss me around.” He winks.

You roll your eyes before settling behind him again, your chin rests on the back of the chair as you strum with him. Rafe’s hand strength allowed him to make more noise with the strings but you noticed his lap. The way his body shifted. He was fucking hard. And that’s when you had an idea.

“You know…I think we should make sure you’re really paying attention.” He half turns at your words.

“Yeah? How’s that?”

You shrug and trail a finger along his shoulder and arm before you sink to the floor in front of him with a smile.

“Play exactly what I showed you. And try not to mess up.” You tell him as your hands find his belt, you undo it and tug his pants down. You palm him in the middle of his boxers, feeling his cock against your hand and he inhaled sharply, hitting the wrong note.

“Rafe. Try again.” You pull down his underwear to his mid thigh, his heavy dick slapping against his thigh and you moan at the sight of precum leaking from the tip. “If you don’t fuck up, I’ll let you cum.” You order him and swipe your tongue along the vein before dragging it out. You spit on your hand and find his balls, massaging them as you kitten lick his tip.

You take him between your lips, his soft skin against yours as you dig your nails into his thighs and he huffs out a breath but he plays the correct chord. You take more of him down your throat, your tongue working the underside of his cock as you start to move your head around and he hits an incorrect one. You start to pull back a little but he quickly corrects it. “Mmmm,” you moan as he hits the back of your throat.

“Not-fucking-fair.” He hisses as he continues to shakily strum as you gag around him before sloppily pulling off him, arousal pooling out of your mouth and your core tightening from his dark gaze on your face.

“Who said I play fair?” You challenged with a smirk and he growls before setting the guitar down on the floor, reaching forward to haul you on his lip.

“You wanna fucking play a game? Fine. But don’t forget who’s in charge here, baby girl.” Rafe slaps your ass and lowers you down on his cock, your covered cunt soaked as you grind down on him, your hips moving in a slow rocking motion. His hand moves to cup your neck.

“Dirty girl. Wanting to ride my dick with someone in the other room? Making yourself my own little fuck toy.” He squeezes your throat a little tighter as your hands settle on his shoulders, gripping tight as he slides your panties to the side and sinks you down on his cock.

His shaft fills you to the brim as you settle onto him, throwing your head back as you jerk your pelvis and take him more, your lips finding the crook of his neck and you suck his skin, making sure to leave a little bite mark.

“Fuck-“ he exhales and his fingers find your hair, pulling tightly. “Gonna make you spill with my cum. You gonna take it like a good girl? Take daddy’s cum in that sweet pussy?”

You whimper against him as he guides you while you bounce, his grip sliding to your tits and he gives them a gentle squeeze, testing the waters before your climax approaches while he pinches your nipples. Your cum gives him extra slick as he jolts harder, his own release spilling into you and ropes of cum fill your insides.

It drips out of your cunt and onto his lap. You both tremble as he holds you close, brushing a few stray hairs out of your face. “So. How did I do for our first lesson, baby girl?” He smirks with a half laugh.

You shake your head and climb off, adjusting your fumbled clothes. “Not bad.” You look him in the eye and cast a glance over your shoulder. “But I need to get back to your sister.”

“Yeah. You will. And then you’ll come back to me. I really wanna test how good of a teacher you are. I already forgot all the shit you showed me. I think I need a reminder.”

As you walk away, you realize something. Your panties are gone and you half turn to see him pocketing them with a wicked grin.

@xxbimbobunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @drewstarkeyslut @redhead1180 @emsgoodthinkin @take-everything-you-can @drudyslut @slvt4jamesmarch @valeskafics @rafescurtainbangz

[astronomoney]

bookends, bestfriends, deadends

Pairing + WC: Jason Grace x reader, 1.6k Warnings: slow burn, once again and as always with my love Jason this is NOT canon-compliant, Jason may be a tiny bit ooc but I tired Summary: In the months between saving Hera and setting sail for New Rome, Jason finds himself making a friend Authors note: ok, y’all, here’s the deal; I took a nap and woke up with an idea, so I started writing; then I realized I needed set up, so I wrote this. Now I have a full fic that doesn’t include my original idea, so I will have to make pt: 2, but at least it’s already almost all the way written

Camp was far too busy this year; even for the off-season, it felt like there were campers everywhere. With all the bustle, it was hard to find a moment of peace. That’s why you’d taken to the woods that day. Following the path you’d walked a million times to a little outcrop of ruins not far from the beach, deep enough to not be disturbed. You’d taken a thick blanket and draped it over a vaguely couch-shaped block of stone ages ago to use as a reading nook. It was calm and peaceful and empty, usually.

This time, when you got close enough to see your little piece of peace, there was already someone there. A blonde boy with a scar on his lip sitting on your faux couch and squinting at the book in his hand. Jason Grace. Of course, you knew who he was, everyone knew of him and Piper and Leo, all working to get ready for the next great prophecy. 

Sneaking up on a former Roman soldier didn’t seem like the best plan, so you’d spoken out. “Guess this place isn’t so secret after all,” geez, what an opener.

Jason looked up with a start and got to his feet before you could say anything else. “Hi, hey, sorry, is this your spot? I wasn’t sure who’s it was, so I stayed to read some. I can go.” 

“Oh no, please, you don’t have to,” you were quick to put up your hands and stop him from leaving. You two hadn’t necessarily talked before, but he had always seemed nice at meals and campfires, if not a little awkward. “You were here first. I can leave if you want to be alone.”

Jason paused, it seemed he was actually taking you in now, noticing the book in your hand, Don Quixote as opposed to the copy of War and Peace he held. “I don’t mind company,” he offered you a small nervous smile, it was so pure you had to just stare at it for a second before responding. 

“Neither would I,” you finally said, returning the smile. You walked over and sat down tucking your legs under you and leaving plenty of room for Jason to sit on the other side. 

He joined and read next to you for what felt like both hours and minutes. Two days later, you had beaten him there, so when he arrived, you smiled and scooted to the left, giving him room again on your right. Over the next month, you crossed paths at the ruins what must have been a dozen times. There was never much conversation; it was more of a silent agreement to enjoy each other’s company, and each day, the distance between your shoulders seemed to get ever so slightly smaller. 

After a while, you got comfortable being directly next to him. Your shoulders would brush each time Jason moved to turn the page, and you couldn't help but notice how warm and strong he was. Silent meetings became small discussions about your current read, which turned into talks about other books you’d recommend to each other, which eventually morphed into a solid friendship. You would invite him to eat with your cabin since he had no one else at his. He would update you on the progress of the ship and the quest, you even got to know the other campers involved. 

Over the next few months, your lives became completely intertwined. You spent most of your day with each other. You watched him train for the quest, pushing his limits in sparring sessions until he was too exhausted to do much of anything. You would drag him out to your spot in the woods on days when he’d gotten so focused he had to be forced to take a break. You’d even tried to help him get some memories back. He would eat with you, read with you, help you with whatever chores you had around camp, anything to spend more time with together. 

He was the first person you turned to when you had something to say. He was the only one who remembered which campfire songs were your favorites or which books you’d reread depending on your mood. You cared about him so deeply, and you weren’t even sure how you’d come to feel so much in so little time. You truly hadn’t realized how much you needed him around you until you thought about just how soon he’d be leaving.

Of course, he would go back to Camp Jupiter; you knew that. This was never meant to be permanent; you were sure he missed his old life, his old friends, his old home. But part of you, somewhere in the deepest, most selfish part of your heart, wanted him to stay. You wanted him to forget about Rome, and Jupiter, and the quest. You wanted him to stay here with the strawberry fields and the books and the beach and with you. You wanted him to forget his sense of duty to a place that never cared and stay with someone who would give their whole heart away just to see him be happy for a moment longer. It was a feeling that filled you with guilt every time it crossed your mind.

It had occupied your thoughts nearly the entire day when Jason came to your cabin that evening. He knocked on the door until one of your siblings answered, and they called you over, muttering something about stupid and lovesick and so annoying that you hadn’t totally caught. 

You stepped onto the porch and closed the cabin door, leaving Jason and you alone in the dim light of the setting son. He was handsome as ever, a fact that you had resolved not to dwell on; plenty of people found their closest friends to be stunningly beautiful, it wasn’t a big deal. 

In fact, it was totally normal for someone to notice exactly when their best friend had skipped their usual haircut and started letting the military style grow or how their eyes exploded with color when the sun hit them just right. And, of course, there was no deeper reason for why you would pick up on every scrape or bruise he’d gotten from training. You were just hyper-observant, never mind that it only applied to one person.

As you took him in, scanning for the weariness you so often saw and he so often dismissed, you noticed more than anything how nervous he was. “What’s up?”

“Hey, um, I just wanted to, well.” He took a deep breath and let his words spill out a mile a minute. He told you that the Argo II would be ready to fly any day now. He told you how they were going to find Percy and how the first place they were going to check was New Rome. He brought up his old life, a life he wanted to remember, a life he thought he would remember when he got back there. These were all things you’d know and that filled you with dread, but you let him talk without interrupting. His rambling soon turned to a topic you haven’t expected, it turned to you. He told you how important you were to him, how much you’d helped him adjust to life at camp, and how much he appreciated everything you’d done for him. 

As he went on and on, you felt your heart begin to pound. The way he was talking lit a spark inside your gut, and the borderline desperation in his voice made you dare to hope. The emotion in his eyes made you think maybe, just maybe, he felt the same kind of connection that you felt with him. You could tell it was going somewhere important, somewhere that made him nervous and hopefully at the exact same time.

“I guess I just realized while we were planning in the bunker,” he began to close in on his point. “How important you are to me, and I can’t imagine what it’d be like without you. You can say no of course, it’s a lot to ask of anyone but,” he took another breath. “Do you want to come with me to New Rome?”

That wasn’t exactly what you were expecting. The funny feeling in your gut shifted and morphed, flashing through disappointment for a brief moment. As Jason waited for an answer, you had to process exactly what he’d asked. Going back to New Rome meant he was going back to his old life, a fact you were all too aware of, but now, maybe you didn’t have to lose him to it. He still wanted you by his side. He still wanted you to be a part of his life.

“Yes,” you finally replied. “Yes, of course, I’ll go,” you watch the relief wash over him, his nerves visibly dispersing as one of the widest smiles you’d ever seen etched itself across his face. 

In the next moment, he wrapped his arms around you. It was a bone-crushing hug that squeezed the air from your lungs, and you wrapped your own arms around him as tightly as you could. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispered to you as you tried to stop your heart from exploding. This wasn’t how you wanted it, but at least for now, this would be enough.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

There's pt1 :) part two is almost done already because I wrote most of it before I even started all this, but what I can say, the keyboard got away from me. let me know if any of y'all want to be tagged in pt2 or in my general Jason taglist.

[vivwritesfics]

Fake It Till You Make It

Chapter Three - First 'Date'

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

1.2K

Series Masterlist

Party Princess's Potential Prince

F1 fans are always delighted to see the Party Princess and her year's of friendship with Fernando Alonso. Every Monaco Grand Prix the two greet each other like old friends.

They were seen embracing upon the Princess's arrival to the paddock. Most fans thought nothing of it. It was normal for the pair. Ever since she first met him at ten years old.

Although interactions between the Party Princess and Alonso have been nothing but platonic, some if us are left to wonder if there is something more going on?

Princess Y/N is known for the string of lovers she had. Here at The Monaco Press, we have been lucky enough to interview some of these lovers. When asked for a comment, several of these lovers agreed that their is a high likelihood that the Party Princess has found herself a much older man.

The Monaco Press will bring you the latest on this story as it unfolds.

"Why the hell are you in my apartment?"

Prince Henri walked around the apartment. No matter how large he knew it was, the mess and the clutter made everything feel so much smaller. He kicked away a dirty, sparkly dress. "Can I not come and visit my baby sister?"

"You could have given me some warning," she said as she picked up the dress and the clothes that surrounded it.

Henri shook his head. "Get dressed. We're going out to dinner."

But she sat down on the couch instead. Henri rolled his eyes and stepped over the mess, walking into her bedroom. "Hen, piss off," she called over her shoulder. "I don't want to go to dinner with you."

A dress hit the back of her head. She grabbed it from the back of the sofa and held it out in front of her. It wasn't like the normal dresses she found herself in in the middle of the night, which were far too short low cut. It was black, went down to her knees, and covered up her arms.

"Seriously? Henri, I'll look like a nun."

"I don't care. Do I need to get you shoes as well?"

She glared and marched past him, into her bedroom. She slammed the door shut, quickly got dressed and ran a brush through her hair. She grabbed some flats that matched the dress and pulled them on.

When she was finished she opened the door and stepped out. "Jewellery," Henri said, turning her back around and pushing her into her room.

Her jewellery was all expensive and gorgeous. She picked out some stud earring that, although they didn't look like a lot, were worth more than her rent. Her necklace was simple, too, and she didn't bother with bracelets. Checking herself in the mirror, she walked out of her room. "Good enough for you, your highness?" She asked with a mocking bow.

Henri offered her his arm. She reluctantly took it and followed Henri out of her apartment.

It was a surprise to find no chauffeur waiting for them. Henri opened the car door for her before slipping into the drivers seat. "I've booked out the entire restaurant," he said as he began driving through the streets of Monaco. "Don't leave until you've given him a chance. Please."

"Wait, him?" She suddenly cried. "Henri, I thought we were going for dinner! You can't just set up a date for me and not tell me!"

Henri tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "I can and I have," he said.

She huffed as she sank down into her seat. "Who is it?"

"Charles Leclerc."

Charles Leclerc. She had only met him once before. He and his brother were meeting the Monaco family for some super formal interview. Charles had looked at her for most of the interview, and constantly brought up his girlfriend. It was big headed of him to assume she wanted him to the point where he mentioned his girlfriend every five minutes and she'd decided then that she didn't like him.

"Why?"

Henri slightly turned his head towards her while still keeping his eye on the road.

"Why have you set me up with Charles Leclerc?"

Henri shrugged his shoulders, and she could have strangled him. "You need good PR and he needs good PR. It just makes sense."

For the rest of the journey to the restaurant she was silent. She didn’t want to talk to Henri, not when he was such an ass.

When he parked up outside of the restaurant, she still didn't move. "Y/N, come on," Henri huffed. "Stop acting like a child," he said and opened his car door.

If there were paparazzi around, they definitely saw her getting dragged out of the car by the future king. "Henri! Stop!" She cried as she tried to fight her brother off. But he was bigger and stronger than her.

Her had her inside of the restaurant and sat down at a table in no time. She scowled, arms folded over her chest as she stared at the empty seat across from her.

"You have my permission to do whatever it takes to keep her here," Henri whispered to the hostess as he left the restaurant.

Keeping her there meant serving her drinks and bread. Twenty minutes later, the black Ferrari with the white and red stripe appeared.

Dressed in a black suit, Charles walked into the restaurant. He looked incredibly handsome, but that wasn't what she was thinking when she saw him.

"You're late."

"Sorry about that, chérie."

"Don't call me that," she spat as another drink was placed in front of her. "You know this isn't a real date, right? You know Henri only set this up so that we look good."

Charles nodded his head. "I'm aware," he said, playing with the rings on his fingers.

"Then why are you here? To waste my time?"

Charles shook his head. Taking his wine glass, he lifted it to his lips and took a quick sip. He placed it back down and cleared his throat.

"Your brother and I have been talking," he began. "Because of my recent trouble with the media after a messy break up, and because of your constant PR blunders and messy nights out, Henri and I thought it would be a good idea if you and I 'dated'. That way we could pull the media's attention away from our fuck ups and onto our seemingly perfect relationship."

She let out a dry laugh. "Do you really think that'll work?"

Charles shrugged his shoulders. "There's only one way to find out."

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something just outside of the restaurant window. "Let me prove it to you," he said, reaching for her hand with a blissed out smile on his face.

When she saw the flash of a camera, she placed her hand in his and painted a practiced smile on her face. Her laugh, too, was practiced, perfected after years of unwillingly being in the spotlight.

"Do you think it'll look like too much if I drove you back to your apartment after this?" Charles asked as the food was placed in front of them.

She rolled her eyes and just hoped the paparazzi didn't see. "Nothing is too much for the party princess," she spat.

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Taglist (OPEN): @charizznorizz @rafaaoli @myescapefromthislife @spilled-coffee-cup @janeholt3 @mamako23 @randomgirlnumber13 @booksobsess @chonkybonky @mindflay3r @ananyasr1bughead @sltwins @lordpercevalcharles @jaydensluv @life-of-a-lazy-girl

[animehouse-moe]

Ryoko Kui's Daydream Hour

I am moving at a glacial pace with tidying up and editing the images of this art book, so I'm going to take a break and talk about Kui's incredible character design on Delicious In Dungeon, using elves here as an example

So, first of all, race-defining traits. With the elves, it's obviously ears as the first. But, Kui plays around with that far more and in an incredibly natural way. The size of their ears differs, the angle at which they protrude from the side of the head can be different, their rotation in terms of where the opening of the ear faces can change, and even the "pointyness" is unique to each elf.

It creates incredibly varied views and "styles" of elf within the world, and complements a lot more of the physical traits that reflect ethnicity in our world.

Take, for example, the hair of elves. In the vast majority of cases it remains blonde or silver/white, and is straight. As you can tell with some of the images, it's not always smooth or silky like some exhibit, but in the vast majority of cases, for elves that are pure elves, their hair is straight (potentially with some shape/volume as you can see with the gray-haired elf with green markings on their face).

Similarly, elves are shown to have characteristically blue or green eyes. Which begins to draw your attention towards an outlier.

This elf. The one with purple eyes. Immediately, you might think "oh, they must only be part elf", but Ryoko Kui was only laying a trap with that idea. This elf is certainly 100% elf, it's just that they exhibit traits that are heterogenous to how Kui's defined elves as a race.

The biggest outliers being the purple eyes, but then also the ears. Here's the thing though, there's not a race that strongly exhibits purple eyes throughout Ryoko Kui's work on Delicious In Dungeon. It's just that elves exhibit strong homogeneity in regards to eye color. A similar thing can arguably be said about the ears which may make viewers think something's up. They're certainly the smallest of the bunch, and the most rotated, but other elves also see aggressively rotated ears, just not to the degree that this one does.

If you want to talk about how the traits of elves mix with that of other races we actually have two examples. Marcille Donato, obviously, as a half elf and half tall-man, but also this other blonde woman with blue eyes.

We know of Marcille's heritage so let's focus on the woman on the right. The first thing that you notice as a heterogenous is her hair: it's wavy. It's a trait that's very much separate from Kui's depiction of elves. Similarly, the shape of the eyes betrays that much more narrow and sharp style.

Then there's also the ears, which are larger, noticeably shorter, more round, and most noteworthy are thicker.

With that last piece I'm sure many are thinking, "Oh, she has to be half Gnome!". Yes, the shape and size of the ears does very much fit Kui's style of Gnome (as does her height, I'll say more later), but let me show you a (bad and unedited) image of how Kui draws gnomes.

Their eyes are far more slanted and downturned. It's a very strong trait of the Gnomes, alongside their very prominent noses and hair that isn't noticeably curly or wavy.

So no, it's not Gnome, and I wouldn't say it's Dwarf either. My guess is that this woman is part half-foot. The smaller stature (yes, the headshot shows that she's shorter than the other elves), the curly hair, the shorter yet more prominent and thicker ears, the rounder eyes, it all speaks to similarities expressed by Half-Foot characters.

And I think that's really incredible. It's just a wonderful highlight of how thoughtful and creative Kui is with their character design, and how unique they're able to make a race.

At a glance, you can tell who's what, but they don't all look the same by any means.

That's something that's really driven home with Ryoko Kui's Daydream Hour, and something I really want to talk about more. Though, as you can tell, I've got a lot of work ahead of me to get images that are actually good and presentable, so we'll see when I'm able to squeeze out a proper post.

[the-fo0l]

Spencer Reid x gn!reader hcs

Notes: lotta spencer content has him as an asshole, pregnancy, angst, smut, insecure reader...so here's some classic fluff

Warnings: fluff!, earlier seasons reid +he's kind of a simp (and a bit subby ;))

the way his eyes just absolutely light up whenever he sees you <3

the man's a total genius, but only in the book-smart way, socially, he's a little...stunted

he's very much not used to any proper form of love, so you're gonna have to be a bit patient with him while he gets used to it

but believe me he is trying his very best cause he does not want to dissapoint you

at first he thought your love of his rambles was just a way to make fun of him

but since you seem to actually like listening to him talk, he'll take the opportunity to ramble to you about anything and everything on his mind

which the team appreciates, he has an outlet to rant to, someone to attend his geeky events with, and most importantly, someone reliable to support him

(they are still annoyed when he's constantly on the phone with you, meanwhile there's an active crime scene a few meters away)

before you two started dating he probably already considered you his best friend who he totally neverrrr had a crush on (sarcasm)

he was blushing, stuttering, jittery mess when he asked if he may be your boyfriend

and yes, that's how politely he asked

or at least he tried to, you had to cut off his blabbering with a "yes"

how could you ever say no to such a charming, lovable, polite young man

plus yk...he's cute as hell

the type to go out of his way to wake up early to make your coffee and breakfast just the way you like

wearing matching rings, either with each other's initials or some nerdy inside joke

he absorbedly teases the ring on his finger when he misses you

whenever someone mentions you he gets visibly more engaded in the conversation, and the team teases him like crazy for it

like, sometimes the crew'll pretend to be talking about you and watch how reid immediatly perks up from whatever file he was buried in and turns to look where the he heard your name be spoken. and he falls for it every. fucking. time

gushes to you about any new interesting books, reseach, interesting statistics, facts, events etc

in a similar vein, he'll get caught in gushing to the gang about how cool and smart and funny his partner is

rizzes you up w magic tricks

but can't handle you flirting with him, he's smiling like an idiot and bashfully looking away, with his face all red

a lot of people say he wouldn't like pda, and i get it, but i think if you've been together long enough and he feels comfortable around you he's not shy about expressing it, verbally or physically

i mean yeah, it's not "all up in your face" pda, it's with smaller affectionate gestures

vents all his thoughts, concerns and emotions out to you, and listens attentively and patiently when you have to vent

falls in love with you all over again listening to you get caught up talking about your interests/opinions

man's capable of easily retaining encyclopedias worth of info, so anything and everything you tell him gets commited to his database of a mind

be it the most insignificant gossip or tiniest detail about your childhood, you best belive he's never forgetting that shit

tries his best to not profile you or try to explain your emotions to you, but really he dosen't need to be told twice when it comes to learing the intricacies of realationship ettiquette

he's never dated anyone before and he's about as nervous as he is excited

deeply fears disappointing you, hates the thought of being a burden to you, so hearing affirmations of your love verbally means a lot

more than anything he needs a solid positive presence to help him deal with his emotions

so if he's had a really bad day, or a rough case, he comes to your front door and just totally breaks down and falls into your arms, crying into your shoulder

if anything traumatic were to happen to him, you're the first person he needs to be there

and if he woke up in a hospital bed he'd immediately start asking for you, rather frantically too

and if the event is traumatic enough, he may become a bit codependent, at least for a week during the recovery process

used to get jittery around you from nerves, now it's from the uncontainable happiness he feels being around you

his kisses are so shy and inexpirenced but also so, so needy and desperate

he'd die if you ever custom made a puzzle or quiz with questions about your relationship, like he'd be so overjoyed, literally would never shut up about it

(he'd nail it ofc)

reid usually isn't one for physical affection, like, not at all

but it's completely the opposite with you, he can't seem to keep himself away

and the guy is starved for touch...or really affection of any kind, so whenever he can, he clings onto any part of you he can

sits on your lap facing you, it's like you guys' favorite relaxing position, it's so intimate

follows you around like a puppy, all giddy and stupid with love

always holds your hand or onto your forearm while walking beside you

cuddles very close, tightly intertwined with you

you'll have to squirm and push while he just pulls himself closer into the crook of your neck

or yk just tickle his sides when he least expects it

reads to you, odds are whatever book it is, he's already read it, dozens of times over if it's a classic or scientific. he very well could just recite it but if there wasn't a book to look at, he'd have to look at you which would make him get distracted and trail off

which you'd, of course, playfully tease him for

in conclusion, you're never allowed to break up with him, i don't make the rules, it's the law