‏I Am Mohammed Ayyad, I Am 17 Years Old, High School Student, I Have 7 Brothers, Including 4 Girls

Arcane's odd quirks :]

Sfw fluff with gn reader :)

Warnings: Trauma, medicine, needles, bombs mentioned briefly

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Viktor- Doesn't like brushing his hair. There's no real reason behind it, actually... he just forgets to do it and then it becomes super tangled. When he was younger, he used to use those detangler sprays that smell like pear or green apple. Brushing his hair for him will probably become a daily routine since he's always working, and he's very appreciative of it too. Viktor makes sure to give you a big embrace and lots of kisses before you leave the lab.

Jayce- Doesn't like to wear shoes? Sometimes you'll walk into the lab and home boy just has his floor grippers out... Viktor will just be standing there in disgust and look at you- mouthing "this is your man". Sometimes he tries to lock toes with you if you don't have shoes on, and his feet are always super sweaty; not the ideal situation for you. Jayce is really romantic about it though; at least he says he is... You'll receive random pictures during the day of his feet

Vi- Really hates loud noises. It's connected to her childhood; she always feels like she immediately goes back to the factory where she lost everything. Vi will probably move out of Zaun because of this, and would love to move in with you if you live somewhere peaceful. Her dream as a girl was to move some forest or mountain where she could live more naturally, and there wouldn't be loud noises of the city

Jinx- Actually really good at administering medicine and shots if you need them. Since she grew up around Silco, she learned how to prep needles and measure medicine to the right doses. Jinx often jokes that she could've been an amazing nurse if she wasn't a crazy bomb addict; it becomes harder to deny after a while of seeing her work. She even gets super focused, which is rare for Jinx, if it happens at all

Caitlyn- Animals love her much, it's a little creepy. Once you two were on a romantic walk through a local park when a bird just landed on her shoulder. She didn't even look phased and just gave it a piece of bread from the picnic basket you were carrying. If you ask about it, Cait just says it's always happened, even when she was a baby. This makes it really hard to go on dates around the city; dogs and cats will walk up and demand all her attention

Ekko- This boy is a BEAST at crochet. Makes you sweaters in record time, and even makes some for your pets if you have any. It started off as just a hobby for when he was bored, but it quickly evolved into a mini business when he got older. Ekko once knit all of his workers gloves when it was super cold in Zaun; most of those workers still wear them when the winter months roll around. His favorite thing to knit though is little ducks, and he gives most to you as gifts

Silco- He draws a lot of architecture that he likes around Zaun. The first time you see him do it is during one of his days off; he was sitting on the roof of his apartment and just sketching everything his eyes could see. Silco normally likes to sketch alone, but he'll invite you do lay on his lap while he overlooks Zaun. It's a really peaceful moment for both of you and he asks you to join him again sometime soon

Sevika- Loves writing letters to you, even if you live with her. Everyday you'll find a letter on the counter where she expresses how much she loves you in a different way each day. Sevika finds it difficult to express how she feels in words, so she will usually write letters or notes in place of the words she can't say. Sometimes her letters detail how she just wants to leave Zaun behind and live with you somewhere across the sea. She knows it's a pipe dream, especially with her work, but she can always dream

Vander- Gosh this man is an amazing cook. He adds just the right amount of spice and seasoning, which always balance out the entire meal. Vander doesn't only make underground food; somehow he found a cookbook that details recipes from all over Runeterra. The first time he used a recipe from Shurima was an eventful time... since he wasn't familiar with the food, he added too much spice and Powder almost ended up in the hospital

If you have achieved something, please remember to observe a mandatory period of basking in the warm glow of your achievement like a lizard on a stone, lest you teach your brain that effort is futile, actually, because it didn't get to enjoy its happy chemicals, so, naturally, nothing good ever comes of trying. (And no, avoiding punishment is not a reward!)

I recommend, like, 5% of basking time in relation to whatever time you invested into achieving the thing minimum. And if you can't make your own bask, friend-brought is fine (= tell your friends!).

Tatoe.

Dearest Writer,

Oh hell yeah.

- Sincerely,

romance deprived maladaptive daydreamers.

Distracting

Synopsis: your usually rather easy to work with, but recently Viktor has found himself easily distracted by you..a lot of you. Especially tonight, when you decided to wear that dress.

WARNINGS; Viktor x F!reader, fluff, fluff, fluff, Viktor pining mostly, only a hint of sexual tension of you squint

I didn’t proofread this bc I wrote it on a plane, have fun though

Viktor has felt his hands shaking for the better half of an hour at this point, his cane held in a white knuckled grip as he watch you casually stroll about the party.

His amber gaze had locked to your spine as soon as you walked back him after a short greeting..despite the heaven it seemed to see your bare skin, that dress surely was from hell, hand sewn by the devils himself.

The dress itself was classy, high neckline, form fitting sure, but that long leg slip was a crime. It crept up your leg, if you sit just right it would likely show a hint of your hip (or so Viktor had expertly theorized). But what was causing the most pressure in his knuckles, was the lack of back on the gown..a large view of your bare skin exposed to the air, ending just under your waist, it had been a long few hours.

He sipped his drink, taking his planned break from watching you, but that appears to be an exactly when you decided to approach, just when he had let his guard down. He nearly chocked when his eyes open to find you approaching, the click of your heels echoing across the hardwood floors of the ballroom before you tilt your head to meet his gaze, amused by the sudden panic that you caught flash over his features.

“Hey..enjoying yourself, Viktor?” You ask, settling next to him against the wall, taking the brief pause in wait for his reply to take a sip of your own drink.

He takes his time alright, at this Angel he could see exactly how close the hen of your dress is from slipping off your shoulder if only with the assistance of an eager hand, a less shaken one. He at this point had also taken note of the deep shade of red on your lips, only a hint darker than the dress. He struggled through the thoughts, now registering the question and panicking at what must have been an eternal amount of time,

“Uh..yes..yes. The party it is,” he tried, he sure did, “lovely..” but his mouth failed him as did his gaze when it flickered over your exposed skin once more.

You give a light chuckle, turning further toward him and stealing away his view. He does a better job hiding the disappointment of not yet recognizing of that was indeed a freckle just above your shoulder blade.

“Well that’s a surprise, you hate parties don’t you?”

He offers you a light toggle of his head in reply, glancing away to find a new focus. God knows if he was to try and focus on you, his gaze would just find itself on the lipstick you wore again, and he wouldn’t risk you catching that.

He settled on the door across the way, sipping his drink again only to find his lips met with nothing. He lifted the glass to his eye line, inspecting to discover he had in-fact run out of his champagne. Viktor have a gentle huff of amusement, or disappointment, gesturing it at you as he would sometimes do in the lab with certain tools or noted when they had broken or been written incorrectly. And as always he found comfort in your light laugh.

You glance at the glass, confirming his suspicions correct.

“Poor thing..how will you ever survive the rest of the party without ur social crutch.” You tease, tapping his glass lightly with one finger and inspecting your own glass, still mostly full.

“I can socialize perfectly find without a drink” he insists, flipping the glass upside down in his hand to that he held it by the support now.

“Really? Because you have been standing here since the party began-“

“I’ve been distracted” he defends again, tilting his head at you lightly and swaying the glass. His gaze is calm until he sees yours change. Your eyes light up with curiosity and mischief as the weight of his reply fully hits you, and he feels the hit directly in his stomach as he does too.

“Distracted?” You ask, leaning closer to search his gaze for hints. “By what? Or who? Is it someone here?” You ask feverishly.

He’s screwed. You expect an answer and even in the event that there wasn’t one, which there most definitely was, you wouldn’t let up without one. And if he wasn’t careful his eyes would float back to your dress again, and he could not allow for that to happen. He had been so deliberate Bout his casual observation of you in the past few weeks. Ever since you had handed him those notes, and he had noticed just how pretty your hands were. Your nails painted in a deep red color, and the shiny gold rings on your fingers that only further complimented what he had noted was your soft looking skin.

After that it was your hair, you had been leaning back into your chair after about an hour of inspecting the current project, and you had ruffled your locks sending the tufts to flutter gracefully around the crown of your head. He had noticed how the movement reminded him of a butterflies wings, and that the stray pieces had fallen around your cheek, which he had earlier found were round like one of those old pinups he had seen in pictures as a teenager..and how they would get rounder when you smiled.

And Janna the smile, you smiled so much..you smiled at everyone, but every time you did he couldn’t stop himself from turning just for a moment to catch it, one day finding the lab so frustrating that he had decided to start noting whenever you smiled at him, just for mild entertainment. He counted twelve, mostly when you were joking or messing with Jayce and seeking his approval on the bad jokes, however number ten had been when you offered him the last bite of your lunch.

‘You haven’t eaten all day, come on I know you like sandwiches, eat it’ you had fought for fifteen minutes with him about eating the damned thing before he finally pulled off his goggles and gave you a tired stare before taking the simple pb and j and took the last bite dramatically in front of you. And you gave him that sweet smile..that soft smile. It wasn’t one of mischief or teasing, but if genuine satisfaction. That one was his favorite from that days count.

And now you were back to that evil smile, leaning closer to him then he had noticed and he could feel his heart rate rising to an unhealthy speed as he struggled to move, his body wouldn’t let him escape your warmth.

“No one..not- no it’s just-“ he struggled, he was struggling hard enough that he had leaned his weight off his cane and felt himself begin to tip over. His arms flailed, as his body attempted to keep him from falling, but found a new savior in your hand clutching his and tugging him up as you gave a sharp and fluttering laugh. He clutched your forearms, shuttering at the almost fall. But once his balance returned he couldn’t find it in him to let go just yet.

“You alright there? I didn’t mean to scare you that much” he panted through the finale of your laughing fit..he couldn’t help but notice didn’t pull away yet either. It was a divine moment, watching his settle your breathing and flicker your face up to face his. Your hair was out of place, curling over your round cheeks again..perfect.

You tapped his arm before he released his grip, swiftly attempting an apology before stopped him by tilting your glass toward him. His gaze flickered to it then you, as he adjusted his grip back to his cane.

“Have the rest of mine, I don’t like drinking much anyways” you offered, and without much thought he found himself taking the glass in his own hand, reading you for his empty one. For a second he had felt your fingers graze in the exchange, and as he thought you were soft.

You give him a a slight touch on his shoulder and then a tap on the cheek as he step away, “If you get bored of people watching, let me know” was your parting words as you strolled back into the social gathering, your back again becoming his main focus.

He watched you move away, again frustrated by how easy it was to get lost in how your spine moved before he glanced at the champagne in his hand. His cheeks flushed harshly at the presence of a dark stain kissed onto the glasses edge where you had drank from it. And with a deep shakily sigh, he checked for any spying eyes before hesitantly sipping from the abandoned lipsticks placement..he remained distracted for the rest of the party..and did in-fact lie when Jayce asked about why he still had the glass when they had returned home.

hot artists don’t gatekeep

I’ve been resource gathering for YEARS so now I am going to share my dragons hoard

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ok reverse the TROPE !!!!!! sugar-mommy!f!reader x retired!simon <333 (18+)

he got discharged on a medical injury. his knee flares up now, phantom pains that shoot up his leg and pinch his spine. he feels like a failure--a lieutenant in his prime, and now he has to acclimate to civilian life and grit his teeth instead of drown the voices in his head out with gunfire.

he's been deployed as much as he could be just to stay away from this kind of place. so he didn't have to get on a train, or take the tube. so he didn't have to think about looking over his shoulder in the shops or learn how to pay a wifi bill. he hates going to the doctor's office, and he hates learning how to properly open his bank account, just to learn that there's nearly nothing in it.

the numbers just dwindle before his very eyes. the rent is too high, even in his shitty studio. when did cable cost that much? why can't he go to the pub for just a few pounds anymore? where is the compensation for giving more than a decade of his life in service of his country just to have to wait in fucking lines to get his medication and argue over the phone about where all his fucking money went.

maybe he never had any. maybe it's all lost somewhere. he'd ask his former captain, but he's halfway across the world, and over his dead body would he hold a hand out and ask for charity when he's 36 years old.

"don't get that one."

simon turns his head, a snarl caught in his throat. there's a pretty thing standing beside him, also staring at the array of ramen packages in focus. you take the orange package out of his hand and put it back on the shelf before reaching for a different package. it's got japanese characters on it, so he can't read the label, but you smile up at him.

"this one is way better. good price for it, too."

"'s more expensive."

"yeah, but you get eight packets in this one. that one only gives you five."

at the till, you notice him subtly counting the notes in his wallet. you pretend not to notice, rocking back and forth on your heels, but just as he picks up his bag to leave, you speak up.

"you wanna get a drink? on me."

and fuck, he could use a bourbon. on the first one, he thought your presence was pleasantly tolerable. by the fourth, he's staring down your shirt, dark eyes mapping out what the curves of your breasts might look like in the palm of his big hand. by the sixth, you're pressed up against a sticky bathroom wall and holding on for dear life as he pounds into you from behind, knickers in his back pocket, manicured nails digging slits into his tattooed forearm.

you sink those claws in that night; and you do not let go.

the third night you ask him out, he sees your flat for the first time. in a nice building downtown, doorman holding the door open for you. the elevator ride is long enough for him to see the tops of buildings, and when you step inside your flat, he swallows hard when he realizes you are way out of his league.

gorgeous leather seats and couch. large tv with surround sound. a french kitchen with a gas stove. your flat is filled with knickknacks and candles, low yellow lights and wonderful collections of art and little glass vases and sculptures. your home is filled with warmth, and you don't belong with him.

just as he thinks about backing out of the place, you turn and grip the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer. you touch your nose to his over his mask, smiling, and you push the door closed behind him and press him up against it.

"so, which room do you wanna christen first? i thought we could start in the kitchen."

you're a woman that knows what she wants, he'll give you that; and he doesn't have it in him to say no.

the sun wakes him up in the morning. he doesn't remember falling asleep--he doesn't like to make staying over a habit. when he sits up on his elbows, he takes a deep breath, realizing his back hurts a lot less. the mattress of your bed is wonderful, much more supportive than the flat mess he has on the floor in his own place, and he blinks himself awake when you come out of the bathroom.

you're freshly dressed, makeup on, and you're putting on your jewelry when you see him. you smile at him, coming towards the bed, and you bend down to kiss where his mouth would be under the mask.

"good morning, simon. sleep well?"

"mmm..."

you take that as a yes, cupping his jaw, and you kiss him over his mask again before going to get some shoes from your closet. he doesn't comment on the fact that when you open it, he realizes the closet there is only for shoes...

"you hungry, baby? want some breakfast?"

"i--oh..." simon lays back down when his back tweaks, and you reach for him when you see him fall back in the mirror. you smooth a hand down the side of his body, frowning.

"why don't you stay in bed? i'll have my assistant bring you something."

"no, tha's--"

"i'm not asking, simon, i'm telling you," you coo. you pick up one of his hands and trace one of his scars with your finger. you have long, almond-shaped nails. there's pretty chrome nail art over the wine red color you wear, and he focuses on it as you kiss his knuckles gently. "will you wait for me to come home?"

"where y'goin'?"

"gotta work, honey," you wink down at him. "and i want you to be here when i get back."

"tha' so?"

"mhm," you smile. "right here. in my bed--" you lift the covers a little and peek, giggling as you put it back down after getting a glimpse at his cock resting against his lower stomach. "just like this, simon."

he doesn't remember if he ever goes back to his flat. he thinks he went one more time, to grab a few bottles of his medication, but the tick in his knee hadn't been so bad with the great physical therapy you started paying for and the warm massages you gave him every night.

and his back--your bed always contours perfectly against the muscles of his back, and he finds himself sleeping a full seven hours every single night.

not to mention his new work outs. simon hadn't been to the gym much since coming home, but he knows he must be burning hundreds of calories with you. you test his limits. as soon as you're home, you jump on him, and the stress relief your pussy brings him is just what he needs to get the edge off. you're a fiend, especially after a rough day, and the way you bounce on his cock in every room of your flat keeps him up at night sometimes with the most glorious wet dreams.

you're up late that night. you're curled up on the couch in one of simon's shirts and a glass of red wine, and there's a mountain of papers around you that you're focusing on reading. you have a huge presentation tomorrow, and everything needs to be perfect. simon comes into the living room, shirtless, and you smile when you see him standing there. he's wearing the new sweats you got him, but you can't focus on that too much when you're staring at his pudgy, toned stomach and his nice pecs. you bite your lip, taking a long sip of your wine, and simon hikes up his mask to take a bite out of his bowl of ice cream.

"gonna be up late tonight?" he asks, and you nod. "want me to sit with ya?" you nod again, lifting up your legs, and when he takes a seat next to you, you drape them across his lap. you lean over to give his scarred cheek a kiss, and when you turn back to your paperwork, a thought comes across your mind.

"we should get married," you say softly, circling a note over something. simon keeps eating, as if what you said doesn't phase him.

"why's tha', love?"

"tax benefits."

"mmm..." simon drops one of his hands and thumbs against your ankle. the flat is warm. his stomach is full. his body hurts less, and his heart aches with something nice. "olright then."

you smile.

"good. cause i already bought the ring."

Don't know if anyone here needs or wants to hear it, but really, from someone who's been born into Putin's reign and is still living it. Life doesn't end there. Dystopia doesn't knock on your door the next day after inauguration.

No, it's not gonna be all sunshine and rainbows, and they most likely will try to make it worse, but shit like this isn't done in mere seconds. I might not understand it fully, because for me elections never have been "the time to decide", but please, try not to let the panicking consume you. Take care of yourself. Form communities and networks. This is the shit we lacked and now it's borderline impossible to organize on lower levels here (people still do it. people still fight for other people.)

This is not the end of the world, and if you keep going, it won't be the end of the world tomorrow, in a month and in a year too.

Also please remember that they all are old as fuck and you have big chances to outlive them. Don't lessen your chances by neglecting yourself and your community.

Sincerely, your fucking Russian that is very much living the "dark future" some of you are panicking about. Key word is living. And others are too. Helping people avoid being sent to war, helping people avoid being deported, helping women escape all kinds of abuse. Distributing food and protecting animals they are trying to kill. Fighting against ruining environment. Keeping extincting languages of some minorities alive.

We are living. You'll live too. You have it in you to stand together. I absolutely believe in you.

Disco :)

ATTENTION

If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)

i just imagine simon to be so casual while balls deep… like toooo casual yaaa feeel??

like your legs sittin all hiked up n pretty on his shoulders, the insides of your calves being rubbed absolutely raw with the drag of his scruffy cheeks n chin against em.

“how was your day, mama?” he shrugs slightly, your thighs jigglin’ with all the movement as he presses himself to the absolute hilt within you, balls pressed against the crease of your ass.

“w-wha-… simon,” you’d gasp, fingers desperately reaching out for his. in which he complies real quick, tangling his fingers between yours and pressing em down to the mattress forcing your thighs to burn in a deep stretch with the way your knees brush against your perked nipples.

“how was your day, baby? cmon.” he smiles down at you, the bush of his thighs slapping against the back of yours. “ya’ went out with the ladies, huh? how much ya’ spend today?”