#these are just me trying to concept something

[russellsppttemplates]

We don't know anything about girls! (Oscar Piastri)

Lucas and Jack take the job of protecting their sister very seriously

Note: english is not my first language. Another Oscar piece, and this time it's dad!Oscar 🥹✨️🤍

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is pregnant, childbirth, postpartum

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Daddy, we have a question for you", Lucas said as he and Jack sat at the table, ready to have lunch.

"Sure, what is it you want to ask me?", Oscar offered as he served up their plates with some broccoli, pasta and salmon.

"Mummy is the one that had us, right? We were both on her tummy - not at the same time though - and then she had us", Lucas wondered.

"Yes, mummy was the one that grew you in her tummy", Oscar smiled as he remembered both of your pregnancies. He knew it wasn't comfortable all the time, and there were many instances where you didn't feel so good, but he would spend the whole time in awe at you and what your body was doing for your family.

"Okay, so we have to talk to mummy", Jack reasoned with Lucas, who nodded back at him.

"Why do you need mummy, was my answer not enough?", Oscar wondered.

"It was enough, daddy, don't worry! But if we want a baby brother or sister, we have to talk to mummy first", Lucas stated as if he was saying they were going to ask you to change their bedroom curtains.

"You want a sibling?", Oscar questioned them both, wondering if they had been eavesdropping on you and him.

When one of Oscar's sisters had her baby a couple of months ago, you and Oscar both felt like adding another one to your flock, discussing it in bed that night. It wouldn't be so bad, especially now that both your and Oscar's careers were settled and your schedules were far more predictable. The boys seemed to think the same.

"Yes, do you think mummy will like the idea? She always said her feet hurt a little when it was towards the end", Lucas tsked, "and you, daddy? Would you like to have a another baby?", he wondered.

"Yes, I would - I'll tell you what, when mummy gets home from work, we can ask her about it, okay?", Oscar suggested, seeing the boys agree before eating the food in their plates, smiling to himself at the possibility of your growing family.

By the time you got home, you were just about to catch Oscar putting the boys down for the night, "night night, boys, I hope you have sweet dreams", you kissed both of their foreheads.

"We need to talk to you tomorrow, mummy, we have something to ask you", Lucas offered.

"Okay, it can wait until tomorrow, buddy - sleep tight!", you combed his hair with your fingers.

Closing the door behind you, you walked up to your bedroom, starting to get rid of your work clothes, "Osc? Can you help me with these buttons, please? I can't even lift my arms", you groaned, "I'm so tired".

Your heard your husband's feet pad out of the ensuite bathroom and approach you, his fingers undoing the buttons at the nape of your neck so you could take the shirt off.

"There you go, love", he offered, leaving a kiss in there.

"Thank you - both for this and for doing the nightime routine with the boys, I'm sorry I couldn't be home earlier, but the last lady had this nasty contracture that wouldn't go anywhere no matter how much I pulled and worked every trick of the book", you sighed as you grabbed your pyjamas from under your pillow so you could put them on.

"Don't worry - it was all fine", Oscar assured, "you did miss the quesion they wany to ask you tomorrow though".

"Is it something for school?", you wondered, getting up from the bed with only one leg of your pyjama pants on.

"No, it's not - you can't do anything about it, not now anyway", your husband chuckled as he watched you quirk your eyebrow.

"Do I want to know what it is about? You're scaring me a little", you mused.

"The boys want to ask you for a little brother or sister", Oscar stated, "they checked with me to know if you were the point person they should go to".

"Because I'm the only one?", you giggled, adjusting the sleeves on your shirt so you could wash your face and brush your teeth.

"You grew them in your tummy, and Lucas remembered how much your feet hurt so they want to know if you would be comfortable with having another one", Oscar offered, getting in the bed and pulling the comforter up to his waist.

"You're saying that as if it only takes me to make a baby", you spoke after spitting the toothpaste on the sink, wiping your mouth on the towell to get rid of the remnants.

"They said it like that, not me - but to be fair, they did ask if I would like to have another baby", he added.

Rubbing the cream on your cheeks, you walked back to the bedroom area, turning the light off with your elbow before you sat down next to Oscar, "it's cute, though, that they don't want to just go and ask for a sibling because they understand it's not like that", you said as you snapped your fingers.

"Would you? We talked about it a while ago, but then you had the check-ups and the doctor advised us to not go for it yet until we knew for sure you were all good", Oscar mused, grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers on his lap.

"Yes, I think I would. We know I'm all good and all my parts are working just fine, so I'm in if you are", you replied back.

"I'm in too, I miss having a little baby and the sight of you carrying our baby", he smirked, "and the process of making a baby is very fun".

"Oscar!", you swatted his chest.

"We're always telling the boys they should always tell the truth - was I supposed to lie?", he defended himself.

.

"Don't fall asleep, Jack, okay?", you said as you noticed your son nearly falling asleep on his car seat, "we're almost home, love!".

"I wasn't falling asleep", he admitted, blushing at having been caught with his eyes closed and his cheek on his shoulder.

"I know you weren't, but I just wanted to check anyway", you winked through the rearview mirror, playing along with him.

On the days Lucas had violin practice, Oscar was the one to take him there from school and then back home, which meant you only had to pick Jack up from pre-school before going home, which also allowed each of the boys to have one on one time with you.

Encouraging Jack to stick to his routine, you watched him hang his jacket and leave his shoes on the wardrobe by the door before he took hi backpack to the kitchen so he could empty the snack box.

"Are you not feeling better, mummy?", Jack asked you as he walked inside the kitchen, noticing the bag from the pharmacy on the counter, "did the doctor give you medicine to take?".

"I'm feeling so and so, but the doctor at the pharmacy told me something else", you crouched down so you could be at the same level as your son, "can you keep a secret?".

Jack nodded eagerly, showing you his ear so you could only tell him the secret before he realise you two were alone, "Oh, we don't need to whisper, and this way you won't tickle my ear", he admitted with a blush, "tell me, mummy!".

"Mummy hasn't been feeling well, and when I spoke to the doctor at the pharmacy, she seemed to think that maybe I have a baby in my tummy", you smiled, "I need to take a test to know for sure".

"A baby? The one me and Lucas asked you and daddy for?", he beamed.

"Yes, that one - should I take the tests now?", you grabbed the boxes from the bag.

"Yes, mummy, yes! How do you do it?", he wondered.

"Mummy needs to go to the bathroom", you tapped his nose, "I'll open the door as soon as I'm done, okay?", you offered before stepping inside the service bathroom by the stairs.

"Are you okay, mummy? Do you want help?", Jack asked as you could hear him walk along the corridor.

"I'm nearly done, Jack, just need to clean a little mess up I did here", you offered, doing what you needed to do and complying with all the instructions.

"It's okay, mummy, I also make a mess sometimes and you always tell me that as long as I clean up after myself, it's okay", he comforted you.

Giggling to yourself at his words, you washed your hands again before opening the door, revealing Jack waiting for you.

"When do we know?", your son asked as he looked at the plastic tests by the sink.

"In a few minutes", you answered.

"Will you be sad if it says you're just sick?", Jack muttered.

"Well, you and Lucas asked for a sibling some time ago and it would be nice if it was actually the case, right?", you tested the waters, now wondering if it was the right move to tell Jack what you were doing. You felt like you could deal with the negative result should it be the one to come up, but maybe your little boy wouldn't.

"I really want a baby brother or sister, and I know Lucas also wants one a lot, but we can wait", he offered, almost sounding like a grown up while he grabbed your hand.

Once the timer on your watch beeped, you turned the tests around checking for their validity before looking at the result.

"Are you pregnant or are you sick, mummy?", Jack questioned, looking at the tests on your hands, "what does it mean?".

"This means I'm pregnant, Jack", you smiled before setting the tests down once he jumped on your arms.

"I'm going to be a big brother!", he squealed, hugging you tightly.

"You are, buddy - are you excited?", you mused.

"I am! I can't wait to tell daddy and Lucas!", Jack smiled back at you.

Setting him back down on the floor, you grabbed the tests, "we could surprise them with something funny - what do you think?", you suggested, heading with him to the playroom so you could get started on it.

Oscar and Lucas arrived just as you were finishing the last touches of the surprise, calling your names.

"We're upstairs in the playroom!", you called back before turning to Jack, "you have to wait for Lucas or daddy to read your t-shirt, okay?".

Lucas was the first to get to the room, coming up to you to hug you and kiss your cheek, "and the teacher said I did really well!".

"That's amazing, buddy!", you congratulated after he told you all about his day.

"Hello, guys!", Oscar greeted, and judging by the bottle of water on his hands, he has stopped by the kitchen before he joined you, "how was your day?", kissing Jack's cheek.

"We didn't do anything special - it was like every day that mummy picked me up while Lucas was at his lessons", Jack told in a nonchalant way, earning a wondering expression on your husband's face as he looked you.

You shrugged your shoulders and kissed Oscar's lips, letting him press his lips on your forehead right after.

"Do you feel better? You don't look so bad anymore", he reasoned as he rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs.

"Geez, thank you, Oscar", you chuckled, "but I feel good now", you smiled.

Lucas looked intrigued as he looked at Jack, "why does his t-shirt say he has an expiring date? What's an expiring date, daddy?", he asked as he pointed.

"I'm no longer the little one!", Jack yelled excitedly, leaving Oscar and Lucas a little lost.

"We know you're grown up, buddy - It's when something is not good anymore or when it has an end date...", Oscar offered.

"No, daddy, you're not getting it! I'm no longer the little brother of the family because mummy has one inside her tummy!", he clarified.

Lucas gasped before he ran to you, hugging your legs and resting his cheek on your tummy, "is it true?".

"Yes, love - we're going to have another baby in the family!", you smiled, brushing his hair with your fingers before you felt Jack hug your side.

"I guess there's only me left then", Oscar gestured, hugging you from your back and resting his hands on your tummy, "we're having another baby, Y/N, I love you", he kissed your cheek, hugging you tightly.

Once Jack pulled away, Oscar finally got a proper glimpse of the t-shirt that stated the announcement, reading at the "Little brother: expiring date in some months!" t-shirt the little boy wore.

"Did you do this just now? Since when do you know?", Oscar mused, now finally getting ti hug you properly since the boys had let you go.

"Mummy took the tests when he got home, and then we came here to cut the print and iron letters", Jack offered.

"Yes, not long, I'm not sure it has settled in yet", you mumbled, "another little one, Osc, I love you", you kissed his lips.

.

"Boys, remember what we told you, okay? People are healing and resting, so we have to be quiet and be on our best behaviour, okay?", you checked with them as they got out of the car.

"We will, mummy", Lucas assured you while he held his hand with Jack's, keeping him close as he held Oscar's hand with the other one.

You registered yourself in and then were led to the right exam room, following the orders to lay on the bed and lift your top.

"The bump is bigger, isn't it?", Jack asked as his curious hands touched your skin, stroking it and taking the opportunity to leave a few kisses there.

"It is, little one is growing very well!", Oscar offered.

A knock on the door alerted you to it, seeing the technician step inside the room, "Good morning! How is everyone feeling today?", she asked.

"Hello! We're here to see if we're getting a baby sister or a baby brother!", Lucas offered as he swung his legs on the chair.

"That's right! Are you ready, Y/N?", she asked you with a rub on your shoulder before pulling the kart with the ultrasound machine and laptop with her and sitting on the stool next to your bed.

"Yes, very ready and very excited", you smiled.

"Which one do you think they are, baby brother or baby sister?", the technician asked your boys while squeezing the gel on your tummy.

"Come here, sit on daddy's leg instead of mummy's lap so we can see the baby on the screen there", Oscar explained to Jack.

"I don't know, we're both boys, what is that thing that nana always says? It's like there's always a third", Lucas tapped Oscar's arm as he sat next to them.

"Nana always says that there isn't a second without a third", Oscar clarified, "usually means that when there is a second one, there's always a third one".

"So you think it's a boy?", the technician hummed, moving the wand around, "well, your mummy will still be outnumbered by you guys, but she'll have a little friend to help her! You're having a babygirl!", she smiled, showing you the screen.

"A baby sister?", Jack looked at the screen, "wow, she's so tiny - is that her nose?", he pointed.

"Yes, that's her nose, then these are her legs - they look really strong!", she showed him while Oscar winked at you with a big smile on his face.

"Woah", Lucas mused as he looked at the screen, "how long until she comes out of mummy's belly?".

"That is still many weeks away, Lucas - she needs to stay inside to grow healthy and happy!", the technician explained as she wiped the gel from your belly, "I just sent the scans to the printer down the hall - if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to get them".

After she closed the door behind her, the boys jumped on the bed, hugging your sat up body.

"Can you believe we're having a little girl? A mini you?", Oscar stated as he followed your kids, standing up in front of you so he could kiss your lips.

"These two look like you - I deserve a mini me", you giggled, "Oh My Goodness, a little Piastri girl".

"Uh oh", Lucas said, making you look for any issue or trouble.

"What is it, Lucas?", you wondered.

"We don't know anything about girls!!", he said in a concerned tone.

"We're both boys!", Jack followed in agreement.

"You know Tilly and Lottie pretty well, it's not like you haven't been around girls", Oscar reasoned, not wanting them to feel dismissed as you tried your best to contain your laughter.

"We have to ask Fraser the next time we are all at a race - he definitely knows what to do!", Lucas pointed out.

.

"At least she's comfy - one of us is, anyway", you sighed as Oscar's hands helped you settle in a better position on the examination bed.

"I know we've discussed this with you before, so you probably know that this is the time we talked about. Little one is fully developed now, and she seems like a big girl from our calculations and scans, so I think that now, more than ever you should really think about inducing", your doctor stated.

With Lucas and Jack, the birth was pretty straight forward. The waters broke at home, you went to the hospital when the contractions were closer together and after some pushes, you were happily holding your baby boys.

Your baby girl seemed to have other ideas.

"We wanted to wait for her in her timing, but we understand that that option is no longer viable", Oscar nodded. The team had gone over your exams and they all agreed that induction was looking like the best option so both you and baby Piastri could be happy, safe and healthy.

Squeezing your hand in his, Oscar gave you a reassuring look before you spoke, "we've talked about it, but at the end of the day what matters is that we are both okay, so we'll do the induction. When can we do it?", you asked.

"Well, since it's early and you've only had breakfast, if you go up now, we can settle you in and start the process while your husband gets your things from home if you'd like - your baby is in a good position and we don't foresee any issues to a vaginal delivery", she smiled soflty as she signed a few papers, before handing them to you to sign too.

"Might as well get this show on the road, hm?", you looked at Oscar, "I'll call my parents to let them know".

"Okay, sweetheart", Oscar said before he kissed your forehead, "I'll meet you upstairs, okay? And you, little miss, don't show up before I'm back, okay?", he left a kiss on your baby bump.

"I think it's established that she isn't in any sort of rush", you chuckled, kissing his lips one last time before you parted ways.

While Oscar went home to grab the hospital bags you had prepared, you went up to the labour ward with your midwife Lisa, who happened to be on shift that day.

Checking you in your room, she helped you get comfortable before starting the induction process, "like we talked about, for some women this is a quick process and for some it is a long one. Any way this goes, though, we are all here to help you", she smiled soflty.

Someone knocked on the door, making Lisa look at all the supplies she had and checking if anything was missing until she noticed it was Oscar.

"Hi Lisa, how are you?", he greeted her with a hug before he came to check on you, leaving the bags in their designated area.

"Hello! I'm good, excited to help your little girl come into the world", Lisa smiled.

"And you, my love, are you doing okay?", he asked, looking at the monitor on your bump.

"I'm good, so far so good, and better now that you're here", you pointed a finger on his chest as he approached you.

Chuckling, Oscar kissed your forehead before sitting in the room you made for him, mindful of all the wires connected to you, "did everything get sorted out with your parents?".

"Yes, they'll pick the boys up and look after them - dad told me not to worry about anyone else but me and little princess", you smiled. In the last two births, the first person your father looked for when he stepped into the room was you, claiming that he looked for the person that was already there from before and that he needed to know his daughter was okay.

"I can't believe that this is happening soon, that we're going to have our baby girl in our arms", he said as he did his best to rub your bump despite the wires and monitors that were ensuring you were both doing well.

"Seems like it was yesterday that I was taking a test with Jack on the other side of the door asking me if I needed help", you giggled, "but I'm very excited to have our baby and see who she takes after - I may be too hopeful, but I have a feeling that she might look a little bit more like me", you snickered, "I did all the hard work for nine months and a bit - three times now! I think it's about time this baby comes out looking a little more Y/L/N-y and a little less Piastri-y".

"My genetics have proved to be quite strong, if we are being honest, but I'm also hoping for a little you", Oscar offered as he felt your tightening taut skin under his hand, "was that a contraction?", he said looking at you.

"I think this is the water breaking, do you remember that prickle feeling I told you about in Lucas'? It's like that - oh!", you gasped, "there it goes".

Oscar helped you get up from the bed so you could dry yourself before removing the disposable liner Lisa had laid down for that purpose.

Helping you change into the hospital gown, your husband called the midwife like she had asked you to do, "the waters have broken already? This is good news, means everything is going like it's supposed to, especially ", she said when she looked at the graphs for the CTG machine, checking your vitals too before she left the room again once everything was fine.

When contractions started picking up, Oscar was quick to tend to your every need, walking with you when you felt like movement would do you good before you settled in swaying your hips, your back against his chest while you almost danced around the room, "this is like that time Lando made us dance at the McLaren party", you muttered in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"We're much better now, I think - and you look even more beautiful", he mused, kissing the top of your head.

"Oh, there's another one", you said as you felt the tension on your bump, making you stop and somehow turn around before it got too bad, the new position allowing you to face Oscar as your arm stretched around his neck, your hands lacing at the nape of his neck so you could drop your hips to relieve the pressure from the intense feeling on your torso as you waited for it to pass, your husband's kisses and words of encouragement doing a good job at distracting you from it.

"Do you feel comfortable here or do you want to move to the bed, love? I don't want you to tire yourself more than you are", he expressed his concern as he held you.

"Can I stay here? I like being on your hold and standing up helps, I think", you looked for his approval as you felt his arms ease some of your weight on his neck.

Oscar nodded his head as he kept swaying you around, "Of course, I'm here for you, whatever you need I'll help", he prompted as your neck stretched slightly so you could kiss his jaw, mumbling an I love you to him before concentrating on your breathing again.

Knocking on the door, Lisa excused herself inside and asked how you were doing before checking your dilation, "You're doing really well, Y/N, you're 6 centimetres dilated already! This is going quite quickly I must say", she said and you smiled.

Oscar placed a proud kiss on your forehead while you heard Lisa tell you what to expect in the next few hours, "Do you want an epidural?", she asked.

"I think I'm doing fine without it, but I'll call if it gets too bad", you replied before she nodded and left to tend to the other birthing patients.

Hours later, Oscar had now turned to apply pressure on your lower back with his hands when it started getting a bit harder for you, your elbows on the mattress as you rocked your hips side to side, the interval between contractions now so short you barely had time to rest between them, "I feel like I need to push, my body is telling me to push", you said to Lisa and the nurse that were checking you.

"Why don't you sit on the bed so we can see how things are progressing?", one of them offered as your husband helped you lay down, his hand never leaving yours, "You're crowing, Y/N! It's time to meet your baby!", Lisa announced as she got in position.

"All good, Y/N? I know it hurts, but I also know you have got this", your husband whispered as he positioned himself so he could be right by your side.

"Y/N, when you feel the urge to push, do it okay?", the health professional urged you as you nodded, "your babygirl is ready to come out and everything looks good for her!".

Holding Oscar's hand and squeezing it, you cried and grunted slightly, hearing Lisa announce that the head was out and you needed to do a big push for the shoulders, "this could be a good sign for mini me - my mum always said I had a big head", you groaned.

"C'mon, Y/N, big push", the nurse encouraged as you felt Oscar's lips by your ear, "I know you can do this darling, just two more pushes and our baby girl is here", he said and you did what your body told you, pushing and breathing until your baby was out in the world.

Sitting back against the pillows, the nurses lifted the little girl and after a few taps on her pink cheek, she let out a high pitch scream both you and Oscar were sure to remember for the rest of your lives.

"She's here, Y/N, congratulations mummy and daddy", Lisa said as she placed the baby on your chest.

The baby girl your's and Oscar's love, along with the one from your family, produced was finally here. Pushing your gown to the side, you uncovered your chest as they placed her down, the skin to skin contact soothing her cries immediately, "Hello my love, I'm your mummy", you said as tears gathered in your eyes, your finger coming to stroke her pink chubby cheek as you admired her.

"She looks a lot like you, I think we've nailed the mini you, love", Oscar said between tears.

"That is daddy, I'm sure you recognise his voice too", you cooed, "we've been waiting for you for so long, and you're finally here".

Oscar kissed the top of your head before kissing the top of the little girl's head.

"Hi princess Isabella, we're so happy you're finally here", he said tearfully as he stretched his finger so your daughter could grab it between hee much smaller ones.

"Now we're gonna need to take little Isabella - such a beautiful name - to check everything while you deliver the rest, okay?", one of the nurses said and you extended your arms so she could grab her.

Oscar looked over to the nurses' station as they measured and weighed the baby before he looked down to you on the bed, "Thank you for making me a father again, I love you both so much, my love", he said with loving and still a bit teary eyes, grabbing your hand in his and kissing them before touching your forehead lovingly.

"I love you so much, Oscar", you whispered and you kissed his hand that was caressing your cheek, "there's no one else I'd be a parent with".

After delivering the placenta and having your baby girl back in your chest, Oscar couldn't stop the overwhelming surge of feelings in his chest. He was so happy and grateful for you and at the prospect of the life he had yet to fill with memories with your family.

.

When you were finally able to bring Isabella home, the boys were the best behaved you had ever seen them. They weren't troublemakers, and from what you heard the other parents share whenever you waited for the kids outside the school gate, they definitely were a breeze compared to the stories you heard, but this was new.

"I'll fill this up for you, mummy", Lucas stated, grabbing the water bottle you kept near you ti make sure you were drinking enough and helping your milk supply.

"Thank you, buddy", you smiled, adjusting Isabella's head so she could have a better latch.

"Here are the nappies for Isa", Jack offered as he carried the unopened packet he offered to get from the nursery so you could refill the caddy you kept in the living room.

"Thank you, Jack, that's very helpful", you smiled as Oscar sat next to you, "they're being so helpful, it's so cute", you mused.

"Before you came home, they helped me and your parents tidy up and they promise your dad they would be on their best behaviour", your husband mused, kissing your shoulder and looking at your daughter as she suckled on your nipple, never getting tired of watching her beautiful face.

"At what time did Lando say he was coming to visit?", you asked, squinting to look at the time on the TV.

"He said he'd be here in an hour or so, and then his wife and the kids would come later after she got them from school", Oscar mused, "here, let me burp her", he said.

Wiping the corners of Isabella's lips, you kissed her forehead before letting her go to Oscar's arms, watching his tap her back to get all the wind out before she looked ready to fall asleep.

"Mummy is going to have a shower, so you two be good, okay?", you told the boys before you headed up.

Oscar was resting his eyes when his phone alerted to who the car he heard outside belonged to, making him get up and open the door to find Lando.

"Well, hello there, Oscar, and little Isabella, hello darling", he cooed, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

"Uncle Lando!", the boys cheered quietly, hugging his legs and letting him ruffle their hair.

"Where's your mummy?", Lando asked, "I brought this goodie bag with all things for postpartum fun! We got one of these from my sisters when we had Lottie and it helped a lot".

"She's upstairs, she said she was going to have a shower and my bet is that she's taking a nap", Oscar added, letting Lando sit before he could pass the little bundle of joy to his arms.

"Hello, little princess, aren't you a cutie", Lando said as he looked at the youngest Piastri.

"You have to support her head, like this", Lucas advised the father of three - soon to be four.

"I know, buddy, thank you for your help", Lando smiled at his protectiveness, letting the boys sit on either side of him.

"She doesn't like when her hands aren't covered - let me fix it", Jack offered before he pulled on the blanket around his sister's hands.

"They're both like this all the time?", Lando wondered as Oscar nodded.

"They don't let anyone else touch her without them being near - only me and Y/N get to keep her to ourselves", Oscar chuckled.

"Oh, she's fussing, daddy!", Jack alerted him.

As if on cue, you walked downstairs and into the living room as Lando was up, trying to soothe the little girl, "it's alright, uncle Lando is here, Isabella", you heard him tell her gently.

"Hello", you greeted as all eyes landed on you.

"Yeah, that's your mummy, babygirl", Lando assured, "and you want her, don't you? I can't compete with your mummy, can I?", he said as he walked closer to you, giving your daughter back so she could cuddle into your chest before he squeezed your arm.

"Thank you", you smiled, "you met uncle Lala, babygirl?", you mused, stroking her cheek and feeling her cries soothe down.

"Just about, yes - your boys surely have the protective older brother thing down", the british driver giggled.

"They're already the best big brothers and she has only been with us for a couple of days", you smiled.

#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fluff

[reiding-writing]

AHHHHH UNSUB READERRRR such an elite concept, could I maybe request soccer calling her post transfer just to talk to her?? of maybe the team catching wind that he's been in contact with her after the case??

THE PHONE CALLS

spencer & gn!unsub!reader || 0.9k || bloodied roses event!!

WARNINGS: just morgan prying and getting absolutely nowhere with it

a/n — ik it was just a typo but calling spencer ‘soccer’ had me laughing for like five minutes thanks for making my day 😭🙏

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ unsub!reader masterlist!!

Spencer had spent a lot of time on his phone recently.

An abnormally long amount of time for somebody who’s sworn off technology in favour of the more ‘traditional’ methods of doing things.

5PM. On the dot. Every single Wednesday. Rain or shine, office or case, Spencer Reid was talking to somebody over the phone.

There were a few theories floating around.

A hidden partner? Almost immediately shot down with how rigorously timed the calls were.

His mom? She had just as much of a hatred of phones as he did, and everyone knew he sent her letters every day anyway.

A doctor maybe? A therapist? A librarian from somewhere in rural Russia that had the singular print of some random piece of literature that Spencer was trying to get his hands on?

It was honestly anyone’s guess.

The fact that he was being oddly secretive about it wasn’t helping anything either.

It was like he was scared of the team finding out. What was there to be ‘scared’ of? They we’re practically family, he surely knew that they wouldn’t judge him for whatever it was, so why was he keeping everything under lock and key?

Hotch told people that they should just leave it, that he’s entitled to his privacy and doesn’t have to tell anyone anything that he doesn’t want to. But that doesn’t exactly fair too well when you’re talking to a group of people who analyse human behaviour for a living. And Hotch wasn’t even following his own advice.

And Hotch wasn’t even following his own advice.

“That’s good, that’s great news,”

Spencer wasn’t exactly quiet either.

He’d practically barricaded himself in the break room to be able to take the call privately, but his voice was still easily heard through the glass, and it wasn’t exactly helping to dim the over-active curiosity of his teammates.

“You know what I mean, it’s progress, it shows that they’re trusting you,”

His pacing also left something to be desired, rhythmic and almost mechanical like it was a way for Spencer to blow off whatever nervous tension had built up during the course of the phone call.

“Alright, yeah, I’ll speak to you next week okay?” A small pause. “Okay, bye,”

Most of the team scrambled to make themselves look busy as Spencer pocket his phone and emerged from behind his self-imposed glass wall, but there was always one who didn’t know how to follow a crowd.

“Alright, you’ve kept your secrets long enough, who is it genius?” Morgan’s voice wasn’t accusatory as it was curious, and he gestures outwards for Spencer’s answer. One that doesn’t come.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I talk to a lot of different people,” He re-takes his seat as his desk with a small shrug, lips awkwardly pressed into a line.

“You take the same phone call every single week at the same exact time, that’s not ‘a lot’ of people pretty boy, it’s one,” Morgan leans forward in his chair, elbows on the table. “So, who is it? A girlfriend?”

“No—” Spencer shakes his head almost too quickly.

“A boyfriend?”

“No it’s not—” Spencer sighs exaggeratedly. “It’s nothing like that, it’s just an acquaintance,”

“An acquaintance you talk to every single week no matter what, even when we’re in the middle of a case,”

“I like having a fit schedule,”

Morgan shakes his head with a laugh. “Nothing about this job is ‘scheduled’ Reid, you’re telling me you only keep a schedule when it comes to this specific acquaintance of yours?” His raises his eyebrow unbelievingly, but Spencer doesn’t back down from his stance.

“They have a much stricter schedule than I do, we talk when they’re available,”

Morgan gives a small breathy laugh and a slow, almost mocking nod. “Right, sure,”

“I’m telling you the truth, I don’t know what else you want,” Spencer shrugs again, this time with a small air of exasperation.

He wasn’t technically lying. You did have a strict schedule at the facility you’d been moved to, and you used the one phone call you had a week so that you could speak to him. He wouldn’t want you to waste it by him not picking up. That wouldn’t be fair.

“Whatever you say pretty boy,” Morgan fiddles with the pen in his hand before pointing it across the bullpen in Spencer’s direction. “But rest assured, I will find out who you’re talking to, even if it means having Garcia hack into your phone records,”

Spencer hopes for both of your sakes that Morgan doesn’t find out who he’s talking to.

Although the threat of Garcia didn’t really hold any value, not that Morgan knew that. All they would find was a psychiatric institute, and for all he could’ve been speaking to absolutely anyone there, patient or staff.

So for the time being, your weekly talks remained something kept held close to his chest, something that would hopefully stay that way indefinitely.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #bloodied roses 🥀

[snixkers]

Pre-Heating

Pairing: Spencer Reid × GN!Reader

SUGGESTIVE CONTENT

Fluff

For: Anonymous Request

Content Warnings: Suggestive, mention of a hypothetical house fire, touch starved Spencer

Summary: Your boyfriend puts dinner on hold when he gets home.

Author's Note: I love him so much, literally want to cook for him (I can't cook). Thanks for the request!

Feedback is always welcome!

Requests are OPEN!

The second you heard the key turn in the lock, you knew your boyfriend was home, so you (momentarily) left the pasta dish in the oven to greet him. He smiled broadly as he stepped through the doorway. You waited patiently as he hung his messenger bag and coat, slipping off the beat-up Converse you were sure he’s had since his first PhD.

“Welcome home, baby.”

He finally turned to face you, pulling you into a giant bear hug. His hugs were the best part of coming home. Spencer hugged like the world would end if he didn’t hold you tight enough.

Maybe some irrational part of his brain thought he would.

He smelled like a strangely comforting mix of bergamot, leather, and stale coffee.

“Is there something in the oven?”

You nodded, glancing back at the kitchen.

“Mhm. Chicken pesto with noodles.”

He got distracted by his favorite dish, and you took the opportunity to disentangle yourself from his arms to check on dinner.

Spencer, however, was not known for taking hints. He trailed behind you like a lost puppy, hovering a few feet away as you turned on the oven light. Once he saw you were satisfied with it, he wrapped his arms around you from behind and pulled you close.

“Baby, dinner will burn if you don’t let me go.”

He pressed a kiss to the crook of your neck, his voice a low murmur.

“I have homeowners insurance.”

You snorted, checking the timer to make sure you still had a couple of minutes.

“Are you trying to seduce me using insurance?”

His lips curled into a smile against your skin, a bit of humor seeping into his tone.

“Maybe. Is planning for the worst attractive?”

Your cheeks heated up slightly at his proximity, and he spun you around to face him.

“Yeah, talk nerdy to me.”

He leaned down, pressing a slow kiss to your lips.

“The concept of insurance dates all the way back to 4000 BCE.”

You snaked an arm out of his grip, turning off the oven.

“We can probably reheat it later, right?”

He shakes his head. “Chicken left out like that would fall in the danger zone of bacteria.”

"Just take me to the bedroom already."

#criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #writers on tumblr #fanfic #reqs open #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #tooth rotting fluff #suggestive

[capacityfornirvana]

”Tommy can only be a stepping stone for Buck. Buck needs to explore his sexuality more, before settling down, especially if it’s with a man.”

Whoa, the biphobia is strong with this one. You also wouldn’t be saying this if Eddie had been Buck’s first same-sex partner, let’s keep it transparent here.

“Tommy ending his first date with Buck early is a sign that Tommy is rude and doesn’t care.”

No, it’s a sign that Tommy is a grown ass man who isn’t afraid to advocate for himself and call a spade a spade.

Buck was all over the place during that first date. He was also rude and inconsiderate. But that’s alright, because going out with a man was something completely new to him, and it’s understandable that he struggled to navigate that, especially when his best friend, who he wasn’t out to yet, showed up out of the blue.

But… that doesn’t mean Tommy is in any way obligated to be okay with that. He has every right to observe that things aren’t going well, and he has every right to (correctly) determine that Buck wasn’t ready (at least, at that moment), and remove himself from the equation.

He also extended a lot of grace by finishing dinner and letting Buck down gently outside. And furthermore, he extended a lot of grace by agreeing to meet Buck after the fact, let him explain and advocate for himself—and then take him at his word— and even agree to be his date at his sister’s wedding. That should all speak for itself, but some people are committed to winning those gold medals in selective amnesia and bitter nitpicking.

“Tommy couldn’t get a day off for his date’s wedding? WOW, yeah, what effort….”

Tell me you’ve never worked without telling me you’ve never worked, especially in a public safety job like firefighting. And tell me you have no realistic concept of what being ‘on call’ entails… because you don’t (and if you do, then, congrats! You’re at the bitch eating crackers level of angry and petty when it comes to Tommy). And yet, Tommy still showed up. To the bachelor party, and to the hospital after a long and brutal shift. Would you look at that! And Buck, being the adult man he also is, noticed that, appreciated that, loved that.

“Tommy couldn’t even dress up? WOW, what effort.”

Now you’re just desperate to hate a character. And if that’s the best you’ve got, you already lost. And let’s be honest, you don’t actually give a shit about this. If Eddie had been the one to not dress up, you would be showering him with praise about how ~quirky~ he is, or how Buck loves him anyway because ~it’s Eddie~, and “they don’t need something as silly as themed clothing to gauge how unbreakable their relationship is!” Yeah.

“B-but! Tommy was rude about Buck’s coffee order!”

If something like that genuinely upsets you and feels like grounds to determine that someone doesn’t care/is not a good partner, then… I’m genuinely sorry, and I hope that you develop a healthier perspective, and get to partake in fulfilling adult relationships as you advance forward in life. That’s all.

In conclusion…

It’s a good thing some of you don't write the show. And it’s a good thing you’re not Buck, who seems completely smitten and quite arguably the most content he’s ever been while with a partner. Because unlike some of you, Buck is an experienced, generally mature adult, who is capable of recognizing and appreciating when someone makes an effort while still having to navigate real world concepts like work and communication and just general adulthood. You’ll have to navigate all of that, too, and I hope you try to do it with some actual perspective.

#911 abc #bucktommy #text

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Girl Next Door

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Simon is a simple man who doesn't ask for much. Just a bit of peace to come home to. When suddenly you pop in to interrupt his tranquility. Maybe he doesn't completely hate it...

A/N: This is fluff if you squint. Slow burn?? This will probably just be part one if y'all dig it the concept. Let me know what you think.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Simon loves sitting on his balcony in the evening. He loved it before his new neighbor moved in. He wasn't the type to be overly concerned about the actions of other tenants. If someone was too loud, he'd just turn up the television. Banging from upstairs, he'd play some music. Smoking pot outside, that's fine he smokes cigarettes. And he was never one to meddle in others personal lives. He sought sanctuary in his alone time. 

While unlocking his front door one day he couldn't ignore the soft grunting coming from down the hallway behind him. He turns to see someone coming out of the stairwell with a box so big he can only make out a pair of hands on the sides and little legs coming out the bottom. He watched as you waddled all the way to the door right next to his own. You drop the box with a huff, leaning forward on the cardboard to catch your breath. 

"Hi neighbor," you greet between pants. You're wearing some baggy clothes and a beat up baseball cap, wide eyes staring up at him from under its brim. Just a hint of sweat speckling your temples. "Sorry for the noise, I promise I'm not a normally noisy person." you smile. 

"Hope not," he grunts and enters his own residence. Closing the door firmly without a second look. 

𝜗𝜚

The next day while he's drinking his morning coffee and going through his emails he is disturbed by a politely quiet knock on the door. When he looks through the peephole he sees you again. This time with your hair down, wearing a sundress. Looking a lot more put together. You're holding a tray in your hands. He opens the door but does not release the door chain, leaving only a crack in the door to reveal himself.

"Can I help you," he grumbles in a flat tone.

"Hey neighbor!" You don't let the small allowance of space dampen your spirit or at least you don't show it. "I made some cookies. I'd like to think it's good luck to christen a new place by making something sweet in it. The recipe ended up making way more than I planned for so I figured it would be the neighborly thing to do to offer you some." You give your brightest smile hoping to win him over. 

"I don't like sweets," he states.

"Oh, really? I thought everyone liked sweets..." Your shoulders slump the smallest bit as you pause for a moment in thought. "Well, I've got a baked ziti in the oven. It should be ready in about thirty minutes. I could pop by and drop off some when it's done, if you'd like?"

"Yeah, no thanks." He doesn't allow you to respond when he closes the door in your face. Simon is a distrustful man by nature and he won't let a sweet girl with a tray of goodies change that. They did smell really good though. He can't help himself when he looks through his peephole to watch you leave. You let out a defeated sigh and shuffle back to your apartment next door. 

𝜗𝜚

A few days later he runs into you again. He steps into the elevator, presses the button for the lobby, when he hears a familiar voice calling. 

"Wait, hold the elevator please!" You shout down the hallway. You jog towards the lift, trying to get your purse on your shoulder with one hand while balancing your phone, keys, and a travel mug in the other. Your jacket is only half on and the straps on your shoes are undone. Simon groans under his breath but, out of a second of sympathy, he holds his arm out to block the doors from closing. 

"Thank you," you say breathlessly and duck underneath his outstretched arm. "I'm a running little behind this morning." 

"No problem." His eyes remain forward, watching the doors slide shut as the two of you start descending. You finish putting on your jacket and run your fingers to settle your frazzled hair. 

"Can you hold this for a second?" 

"Uh.." He doesn't get a chance to answer when you're thrusting your warm cup into his hands. He watches as you shove your phone and keys into your purse then bend down to finish buckling the straps on your shoes. Unbothered when your skirt rides up your leg exposing your upper thigh. 

You stand back up, straightening your blouse. "Thanks again" You take the cup back allowing him to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Hey, I'm sorry if I came off as strong the other day."

"It's fine"

"I'm not the best with first impressions." He doesn't respond so you continue. "I didn't mean to intrude either. I'm sure you're a very busy man. Me too, I'm pretty busy with work and stuff. I write for the paper. Well, I am writing the cooking column right now but I'm hoping to get bumped up soon. Maybe something like crime would be cool. What about you? What do you do for work?"

The elevator's ding signals you've arrived at the lobby. As the doors open Simon turns to his head slowly to look at you and nods towards the open doors. 

"Ladies first" 

He wasn't fooled by your clumsy persona, he could feel an ulterior motive in you. He watched as you sauntered off. You are much more professional now, as you pull out a pair of sunglasses and slide them on. He watched the way your hips swayed in your tight skirt. You looked over your shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. Simon waits until you're pushing open the glass paneled double doors before he heads out of the lift himself. 

As you make it onto the city sidewalk, a man runs right into you, causing your coffee to spill down the front of your shirt. You gasp as the hot liquid splashes onto your freshly ironed blouse and down your chest. The man hardly pauses before redirecting around you looking irritated. You spin back around with a huff and shove back into the lobby, pacing to the elevator. 

"Hold the door, please" you groan, marching back while Simon blocks the doors again, containing his laugh into a tight smirk.

𝜗𝜚

Whenever you caught a glimpse of Simon you were quick to skip over and start a conversation. Which was quite a bit. It seemed he was always running into you. The elevator, the apartment gym, while taking out trash, in the parking garage, as he unlocks his door. Most of the conversation being one sided. He was starting to learn more about your life, all the information against his will, of course. 

You were a recipe columnist, also a great cook. You liked dogs but really wanted a cat. You were a single child. You moved here to get a fresh start after a bad relationship. You don't have many friends, that one is pretty obvious.

Then one night, while Simon is trying to enjoy a smoke outside on his balcony he's disturbed by loud shouting in your apartment. Not in your usual bubbly tone, no you sounded angry. He couldn't understand the words you were saying through the glass of your patio door. Then a deep voice is shouting back at you. After a few minutes of listening to the back and forth, your front door slams and then there is stillness. The moment is interrupted when you storm onto your own balcony, slamming the glass door shut behind you.

You brace yourself on the railing edge. He watches your shoulders heave with a few heavy breaths then start to shutter. Your head falls weakly into your hands and you begin to cry. Cry hard at that, sobbing that shakes your whole body. You cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet but your pathetic whimpers still slip though. 

For a moment Simon actually feels bad for you. In fact he feels angry, angry at whoever could have made you feel that way. Sure, you could be annoying at times. Okay annoying all the time but he has never heard you say a harsh word about anyone before. He can't fathom what you could have possibly done to deserve such harshness. You are a sweet girl. He considers saying something to comfort you in some way but after another minute of watching you cry meekly into your hands he thinks maybe not. It would be better to let you be alone. His own patio door is still open, perhaps and can slip back inside with you noticing...

Then he drops his lighter. 

Your head turns sharply to the direction of the clattering plastic against the floor. You lock your watery eyes with Simon and he feels an unexpected pang in his heart. You swiftly wipe your eyes and brush your ruffled hair in place the best you can. Even in the dim lighting illuminating from the city below he can still see how flushed your cheeks have become. 

You draw in a shaky inhale before speaking. "How long have you been out here?"

"Not long," He sees your eyes flick down to the half smoked cigarette between his fingers, giving away his lie. "You want one?" He asks, unsure how to comfort you. 

"I don't smoke," then a pause. "Can I just have a bit of yours?" Your voice is so feeble it's almost a whisper. As you look at him with big round eyes and pouty lips, he can't deny your request. 

He passes the half burnt cigarette over the small stone wall separating your balconies. You're shaky fingers brush against his, careful not to drop it. You bring it to your lips to pull a slow drag. Your eyes flutter shut before you release the puff of smoke, carefully not to blow it in his direction. Simon watches the cloud drift out of your mouth, disappearing into the chilled night air. You lean on the wall connecting your balcony to Simon's. You stare down at the glowing red ember emitting a thin plume of smoke. 

"You alright?" It's him this time who breaks the silence.

"Yeah," you mumble, not lifting your gaze. 

"You sure?"

"No," you release a tired sigh. 

He waits a beat before speaking. "You told me you weren't gonna be a noisy neighbor."

A smile begins to creep onto your face. "I'm sorry, I broke my promise. How can I make it up to you?" When you look at him now, he sees a shimmer return back to your eyes. 

You pass the cigarette back over to him. It's basically down to the filter when he brings it to his own lips and takes a final drag, blowing the smoke between the two of you. It disperses around your features while you watch him. He stubs it out in an ashtray on his little patio table. The cool night dries his chapped mouth. He licks his lips and tastes an unfamiliar cherry flavoring. He looks down at the butt in his ashtray and observes the faintest red ring of lipgloss on the smushed filter. 

"You know, I could go for some baked ziti."

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #call of duty #cod #cod x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley fic

[sugar-coat-it]

Know It's For The Better

If this has already been done I apologize, the concept is probably not super original LOL

CW: Girlie is drunk!!

Fem! Reader

Contains: George’s younger sister! Reader, Matty taking care of drunk girlie, mutually secret pining, SICKLY amount of yearning, they’re so in love but so stupid :(, reader is turned down because she’s drunk, sad sad sad 

WC: ~4,300

—----------------------------

You get too drunk and Matty comes to take care of you. The lines of a longtime friendship are blurred. 

—----------------------------

“C’mon…” Matty mutters, keeping you supported with an arm under your shoulders as he leads you out of the bar. 

“Matty? Matty, what are you doing here, you’re supposed to be… doing music…” you giggle, almost tripping over your own feet as you lean into him. 

“Yeah, I should be doing music, but right now I’m looking out for you,” he says, shaking his head as you laugh at nothing in particular, “you really got yourself into a mess tonight, hm?”

“What do you mean?”

Your brows furrow as you look up at him, pouting like you still don’t fully understand why he’s here. Matty uses one hand to open his car door, the other firmly wrapped around you. He shoots you a look, his eyebrows almost raising high enough to meet his hairline. There are a few beats of silence like he’s allowing you a moment to realize how ridiculous the question is. Your blank stare tells him all he needs to know. 

“I mean you’re plastered,” he sighs, helping you into the car seat, your lack of balance making it somewhat difficult. 

“Ohh… yeah,” you nod in agreement that you are in fact plastered, shitfaced, sloshed, and whatever he’d like to call it. 

You slump back against the seat as your eyes flutter shut, smiling to yourself as you relish in the warmth of being so totally wasted, the world spinning just slightly. Matty is silent as he rounds the car to get into the driver's seat, now reaching to strap in your seat belt. You crack your eyes open just enough to catch the clench of his jaw. 

“Andrea told me on the phone that you begged her not to call your brother to come and get you. Which is why I’m here instead,” he explains, not seeming too impressed. 

Right. Your brother, George. That was the last person you wanted to come and get you, already knowing the lecture that would come with it. You vaguely remember insisting that Andrea call Matty instead, knowing he’d take good care of you like he always has. He glances over at you to make sure you’re still upright as he starts his car, the engine rumbling to life with a purr.

 The drive is quiet as you stare out of the windshield, watching the street lights streak across the night like they’re melting. His hand moves across the center console to turn on the radio, the station already being set to his favorite, indie classics. He never did like silence, Matty fills it any way he can. 

“What were you drinking anyways, darling?” he asks, sounding more curious than patronizing.

You love that about Matty. He’s older than you and certainly protective of you, but he doesn’t always fault you for wanting to act your age, for doing something on the wilder side. Some might call it a bad influence, he prefers “learning from the best”. 

“Umm,” you squint like you’re trying to remember what was in the shots, “tequila.”

“Tequila! Wow, you really went for it, didn’t you?” he chuckles before clicking his tongue, knowing damn well that you only drink tequila when you’re trying to crash and burn. 

You frown, sensing a slightly frustrated lilt in his voice. Maybe you had actually gone too far this time. You shift your body to face him, your cheek smushed against the headrest. Your stomach lurches at the idea of him being upset with you, especially since you’d been tying yourself in knots since you were a teen to appeal to him, to be the kind of girl he would want. Suddenly, you’re 17 again and you’re staring at yourself in the mirror, picking apart every piece of yourself that you think he wouldn’t like. Over and over. Anything for him to notice you. Your face is illuminated ruby by the traffic lights, the car rolling to a stop. Matty drums his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the soft beat of the radio. 

“Are you mad?” you mumble, your chin tilting down slightly as you struggle to keep your head up. 

“Mad?” Matty echoes, his eyes snapping to you with a newfound softness, a vastness of gentle, honey brown, “No, no, I just- what got into you tonight?” 

Relief washes over you like the gentlest wave, you know even if he was mad, he couldn’t stay that way, not when you’re draped over his passenger’s seat. You’re proudly self-proclaimed to be his weak spot, it’s always been that way. A dazed smile pulls at your lips at the confirmation, and he just playfully rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the road. 

“I dunno. Was just having fun,” you shrug, toying with the strap of your seatbelt. 

Matty knows better, but he doesn’t push for more details. Not yet anyway. You can practically see his thoughts racing as he stares at the yellow lines of the street, his lips pressed into a thin line. But, he can pick your mind about why you got so drunk later, right now he’s trying to focus on the main task: getting you home and safely in bed. He’s already mentally mapping where you keep your Tylenol so he can leave some on your nightstand for you before he goes. Now comes the fun part as he parks his car in front of your apartment building, he gets to take you up the stairs. Joy. 

It’s a slow process, Matty instructing you to hold on tight and “don’t fucking let go, you’ll crack your pretty head open”. You laugh like it’s the most well-crafted joke he’s ever told but still abide by his word. Your giggles ring through the stairwell, a bright sound like a melody to Matty’s ears. One step at a time, you make your way up the stairs, successfully keeping your head in one piece with his hold keeping you steady. When did he get so strong? You almost wish there were just a few more steps so his hands could stay on you, ringed fingers firmly pressed into your skin. 

“Stay with me here, we’re gonna get you to bed, okay?” he reassures, looking over at you every couple of seconds.

“Nooo, wait, I don’t wanna go to bed. I’m not tired,” you complain, protesting with pursed, glossy lips.

“Not tired, huh? You were about seconds away from nodding off in the car,” he chuckles, giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze. 

He doesn’t bother with letting you aimlessly fish through your purse for your keys once you reach your front door, taking the bag from you to stick his hand in and retrieve them. Matty keeps you steadily at his side as he unlocks the door, slinging the strap of your purse over his shoulder. The door pushes open with a creak and he ushers you inside, the hand on your lower back sending a shiver skittering up your spine. He follows behind you, watching as you wobble your way to the couch instead of to your bedroom. He rakes a hand through his curls streaked with gray before pressing his fingers into his temples, knowing this night was going to be longer than expected. You drop down onto the cushions with your head tilted back, a lazy smile plastered on your face. 

“Darling, bed is this way, you can’t sleep on the couch,” he says gently, placing your purse down on your coffee table.

You ignore him as he approaches you, instead frowning as you reach to soothe your fingers over the red marks marred into your heels from your shoes. Without missing a beat and without a word, Matty drops to his knees in front of you, batting your hands away from your feet. He carefully undoes the straps of your heels, nimble fingers grazing your skin. You can’t help but stare at the spectacle of Matty Healy being on his knees before you, his muss of curls shadowing his tired eyes as he works. He places both heels to the side after sliding them off, giving your knee a pat before he stands up to his full height. Immediately, you grasp the sleeve of his button-down shirt, like the thought of him being any further away is unbearable. 

“Stay? Chat with me. I’d like to chat,” you suggest, your fingers curling into the crisp fabric. 

“You’re unbelievable, really,” he mutters, shaking his head, “Fine. But we’re not falling asleep here, okay?”

You nod eagerly, you’d agree to any terms he set as long it meant he’d stay. Matty sits down next to you, allowing you to curl up against him with your head resting on his shoulder, your arms loosely around him. A tentative hand snakes up your back to your arm, holding you there as he stares forward, knowing his heart might burst if he looks down at you all cozied up to him. His thumb gently strokes up and down against your skin, like he’s confining himself from touching you any more than just that. Matty asks if he can get you anything, but you decline, not needing anything other than this moment. Who were you to ask for more? The gentle rhythm is lulling you into a bit of a daze, but you force your eyes to stay open to have the privilege of gazing upon him when he’s so close. So warm. So real. You find yourself studying his features, half-lidded eyes searching his face. 

“I think I’m jealous of you,” you admit, your voice low. 

Matty lets out a gasping sort of laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth. What on earth were you on about? 

“Jealous of me? Why?” he smiles, an amused glint in his eyes.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Matty’s expression changes, shifting into something you can’t quite read. His lips part with surprise, but his words catch in his throat. You move your head off of his shoulder to get a better view of him, reaching out slowly to cup his face as you shift your body. His hand on your arm keeps you steady, knowing you could easily topple over. You’ve never been so bold as to touch him this way in your whole life. Matty clears his throat, a crooked smile forming on his lips. 

“Guys can’t be beautiful, sweetheart,” he says. 

Oh, but they can. You’ve been quietly admiring his beauty for so long, how could he say such a thing? You’ve watched him change over time, seen him grow from a gangly, unsure, freckle-faced thing to a confident man who slicks back his unruly hair and wears button-down shirts instead of faded band tees. You thought every version of him was beautiful in his own way. 

Silently, you take one of your hands and begin to trace the features of his face, delicately drawing your fingertips along the bridge of his nose, the slope of his forehead, and the slight rosy hue of his cheeks. Every bit of him is perfection to you. He opens his mouth like he’s about to question what you’re doing, his eyebrows drawing together, but he doesn’t make a sound. He just stares back at the focused look on your face, noticing your quiet wonderment, your gentle, sparkling adoration. It’s like you’re dissecting him, and it’s making him feel so exposed to you like you’ve stripped him of everything right to his very soul. He tells himself that you’re just drunk, you don’t mean any of it, but that doesn’t change the way his heart is intensely thrumming against his ribs faster and faster. No one had ever touched him that way before, so delicately, and he certainly hadn’t expected to like it so much. He feels like he could melt right into the cushions. He loves you. Loves you loves you loves you. 

You let out a satisfied hum as you finish, sliding your hands off of his cheeks and down onto his chest instead, absentmindedly drawing little swirls with your nails against his shirt. His body shudders just slightly at the feeling, a tingly sensation erupting under your touch. 

“You done feeling up my face and shit?” he teases, trying to play off how you’ve just flustered him to his bones. 

You just beam at him, haziness written all over your expression as you let your head drop to his shoulder again. You chat a little longer about trivial things, Matty keeping the conversations simple so you can keep up. He asks you if your favorite color is still the same as it was when you were younger. When you mutter out a “yes”, suddenly, it’s like his whole world has been painted with it. You smile to yourself that he even remembered. His fingers gently trail up and down your arm, almost like his fingertips are ghosting over your skin. A few beats of silence pass before Matty goes for the heart of the issue, the question like a bucket of water over your head. 

“Are you gonna tell me why you actually got so wasted?” he murmurs, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. 

“... Was just feeling… sorta lonely, or something. Sorry for myself, and all that,” you sigh, not entirely sure why you’re telling him something that sounds so pathetic, but your words are tumbling out faster than you can process them. 

Matty hums thoughtfully, feeling as you bury yourself further into his neck, like you’re trying to hide from him, from reality. He knows he’s dampening your fun a little, reminding you of why it all happened, but he just couldn’t leave it alone, not when he knew you were hurting. You distract yourself by drawing small, languid swirls on his chest, the beat of his heart keeping you grounded.

“What happened? I thought you were fiercely independent. A one-woman show,” he snickers, thinking back to the exasperation he was met with when he’d asked why you were still single (“I don’t need a boyfriend to be happy, Matty. I have aspirations, you know. I’m focused on more important things,” you’d preached.)

When you say nothing in response, the realization creeps up on him that teasing you isn’t the right approach at the moment. Clearly, even you weren’t above the lamentations of the heart. You didn’t need a jab at how your fierce independence was what led you to bed alone every night. He swallows thickly, as if literally swallowing his pride before he speaks again, his tone laced with what you could only label as tenderness from the normally brash man.

“What’s been on your mind?” 

“I’m gonna fucking die alone,” you groan, covering your face with your hands, having totally forgotten that you were wearing makeup. 

He stifles a laugh, both at how you’ve smudged your eyeliner and because of your intoxicated overreaction. Obviously, this wasn’t a joke to you, and he needed to get this right. He raises his hand slowly, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face. Your stomach swoops, you swear you’ve seen this in a dream before. 

“You’re a lovely girl, sweetheart. Anyone who doesn’t see that is either stupid or blind. You’ll find what you’re looking for, and you won’t die alone, silly,” he says, punctuating the word “silly” with a poke to your side. 

A lovely girl. He thought you were a lovely girl. One that wouldn’t die alone. That’s… comforting, you suppose, even if it’s in an odd way. Part of you wonders if you’ll die with your feelings for him held close to your chest. The other part isn’t sure if you could truly hide it that long, or if your devotion would spill from your clutches like water between your fingers. Would he drink it from your palms if it did? 

“Do you ever get lonely, Matty?” you ask in return, your words slightly slurred. 

Matty pauses. Seemingly, he didn’t expect this to be turned around on him. He makes an awkward “erm” sound as he evaluates the question. With countless adoring fans, many of them being gorgeous women, how could he ever feel alone? It wouldn’t make any sense. So why does the void never go away? Why does coming home after throwing himself into his work at the studio feel so totally melancholic? He’s supposed to be living his dream.

“I suppose sometimes I do. But that’s just being human, innit?” he shrugs, ignoring the pang in his chest. 

Your fingers pause their patterns, stilling on his shirt. You allow your hand to press flat over his heart, feeling it thrum under your palm. What if this was it? You’re both lonely and after all, he just said he thinks you’re lovely. Urges rattle at the back of your mind, you’re replaying every single moment that he’s looked at you a little too long, every time that his touch created sparks from a lingering brush. It had to all have been real, you weren’t crazy. Your head is swimming, you’re moving before you can even fully process it, and it feels like the room is tilting with your body. With your hands on his shoulders, you wobble as you lift one leg over his lap to straddle him. Matty’s eyes go wide, he hastily reaches out and grasps your hips, trying to keep you steady. You feel like you’re burning up from the inside, you can only think about him, his cologne, his calloused fingertips, his mouth, his tattooed skin. Hot, liquid need is consuming you, eroding any bit of rationality left. 

“We could help each other, y’know?” you suggest, your voice dripping with implication. 

Matty glances down at your lips for a moment, but he tears his eyes away just as quickly as if he’d been burned. He looks stunned, his body totally rigid against the couch as his fingers dig into your hips, his blunt nails biting at your skin through your clothes. You look like a wet dream perched on his lap like that, but the very idea of this continuing when you were in this state made Matty’s stomach churn. He shakes his head, swallowing hard as he starts to speak, his voice strained as he tries to reason with you. 

“Darling, listen to me-” 

“No one would have to know. George wouldn’t know, it could be… it could be a secret,” you interrupt, biting your lip as you speak in a hushed voice.

The reminder of your brother’s existence just added to the urgency of getting you off of his lap. Hell, he’d probably wring Matty’s neck just for not immediately taking you to your room and promptly leaving. He didn’t want you to be a secret like you were some kind of dirty indulgence for him. No, you didn’t deserve that, and it frankly broke his heart that you would let him treat you that way. 

“No. We can’t,” he asserts, his tone coming out much firmer.

Many people think “heartache” is just an expression, but they’ve never felt the actual squeeze in their chest. A sobering rush goes straight to your head as your heart clenches, shame flooding your body. You loosen your hold on his shoulders, letting your hands drop to your sides. You take a shuddering breath, stammering something that neither of you can decipher because of how scrambled your thoughts are. Part of you wants to beg, to tell him you’ll be the best he’d ever had if he let you. But you don't, you let everything come crashing down around you. 

“You’re drunk, you’re not thinking straight. I absolutely will not take advantage of that,” Matty says softly, watching your face drop. 

“But- but I… I just wanted to… wanted you…”

“I know.”

Matty gently slides you off of his lap, feeling like the biggest monster in the world. He knows he’s doing exactly what he should, but the look on your face has guilt gnawing at his insides. Silence settles over the two of you like a layer of snow, you wrap your arms around your body to shield yourself from its frigidity. He’s about to apologize, to tell you how much he’d love to quell your loneliness another time but you speak first, your voice shockingly even, like you hadn’t had a drop to drink. 

“Can you just take me to my room?” 

He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, sensing your almost palpable embarrassment and regret. Matty gets up off of the couch first, reaching his hands out to you to help you up. It feels bittersweet to take them as you stand, finding his touch both comforting and sickening. You want him near but also want him as far away as possible, it’s like the push and pull of the cruelest magnet. 

He helps you sit down on your bed, your little black dress starkly standing out against your soft white sheets. You have a faraway look on your face, and Matty has no clue what to say or do to make any of this better. He knows he can’t pick up the pieces, but he slowly reaches out to rub away some of the mascara that’s smudged under your eyes. You’re trying your hardest to bite back tears, shaking your head as he asks you if you want to change or take off your makeup. You don’t know how to describe the feeling in your stomach as anything other than disgusting. You just want to sleep and forget. 

“Oh, my dear…” he murmurs sympathetically, “I’ll let you get some rest, okay?” You find yourself a little panicked at the idea of him leaving your side, automatically grasping his arms. You coax him closer, despite the shame biting at your ankles, nipping at your skin. Quietly, he understands. He eases himself into your bed next to you, letting you curl up at his side, your head on his chest. You feel it rise and fall under your cheek with each breath. Slowly, your body becomes less rigid as you let yourself melt into him. Exhaustion is seeping in, but this time the physical kind.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” you whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle at your expense. 

“And why wouldn’t I be here?”

“Because I’m a mess. And I threw myself at you.”

Matty smiles softly, letting out an amused exhale through his nose. You’re laying there wondering how he isn’t repulsed by you, and he’s gazing down at you thinking about how beautiful you look in this light. 

“You’re just drunk and a bit lonely. Nothing to kick yourself over, sweetheart, we’ve all been there. You were only bein’ a little affectionate.”

“Affectionate? I was trying to jump your bones.”

He laughs at that, a loud, uproarious noise that’s completely unmelodic, and yet it’s your favorite sound. His chest rumbles with his barking laughter under your cheek and you find yourself smiling, just a little. You can’t help it, even when it almost hurts to breathe. As his chuckles subside, he begins stroking your hair, running his fingers through the unruly strands. Your eyelids are getting heavier, it’s as if time is moving in slow motion, dragging on to an unceremonious stop. You’d daydreamed about falling asleep in his arms, but not like this. On the brink of slipping into sleep, your heart begins to pour out in a delirious confession.

“I know you'll never see me the way I see you. But that's okay. I can quietly admire you. I just want you to be happy. Even if that's with somebody else," you mumble.

You don't know why you’re doing this. You can hardly think straight. You just love him. You’ve loved and wanted him for too long. Longer than anyone should have to bear. 

“What are you talking about?” he whispers, his smile fading. 

"You know what I mean," you continue, the stream of consciousness making you feel somewhat lighter, "you're gonna... you're gonna marry a model... and be happy... and I'll find something... and I'll be fine.”

What you’re saying doesn’t make much sense to him, but it pulls him apart regardless. He can’t help but feel sick to his stomach that you don’t see yourself in his future. Matty gives you a soft squeeze, staring at the top of your head as you barely cling to consciousness. He wants to tell you how he feels so badly, it’s killing him. Everything inside is screaming at him to confess, but he can’t, not when you might not even remember it. He decides this will have to suffice. 

“Sweetheart, I promise you, I would not be happy in that scenario. Not without you.”

“What?” you mutter, sounding dazed. 

Well, sure, you’ll be there. You’ll go visit him in his house that’s far bigger than necessary and force a smile when you greet his impossibly beautiful wife. But… the way he said it… no. You shouldn’t delude yourself any further. 

“Look, you need some rest. We can talk about this later, yeah?” Matty sighs, burying his nose in your hair as he kisses the top of your head. 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

You feel sleep’s forgiving embrace wrap her arms around you. If you’re lucky, maybe you've drunk enough so you won’t remember any of this in the morning. Blissfully unaware, you wouldn’t have to carry this weight. Whatever happens to you, you know it’s for the better. 

Before you truly drift off, you say one last thing. Barely audible, but just loud enough to drive a dagger through Matty’s heart.

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

It’s like the air has been crushed from his lungs. You’ve left him alone with his rampant thoughts, his regrets. God, how he wishes this could have gone differently. After some time, he hears your breathing slow into a quiet steady rhythm, signaling that you’re sound asleep. Then, and only then does he softly speak into the silence of the night.

“I love you too.”

——————————————————————

… sorry?

Thank you to my lovely birthday twin Mads (@toomuchracket ) for previewing the early draft of this!!! Dedicated to you, I hope it’s half as good as your angst <3 <3

#matty healy x reader #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy imagine #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 x reader #matty healy x you #matty healy x y/n

[bambi-slxt]

I’ve been feeling really down lately so would you mind writing something real fluffy with either chris x reader or matt x reader and it’s about how playful they are together and they’re always teasing and tickling each other and stuff like that.

Just something real cute, love your writing btw!!

of course, honey <3 a/n at the bottom

playful!matt & playful!chris:

✨a concept✨

making dinner -

chris: definitely dancing around the kitchen and being exactly zero help. "come on," he yaps, grinning his cute stupid little grin, "dance with me, pretty girl, the pasta can wait." "chris!" you can't help but giggle at the kid. "wanna dance with my lady." his smile is almost too big for his face, and your heart feels tight.

matt: does everything he can to distract you while simultaneously assuming an air of utter and absolute innocence. "i don't know what you're talking about," he says, slipping behind you and pinching your side, rolling his eyes at what he believes is an incredible overreaction from you.

going thrifting -

chris: tries to scare you by hiding in the racks like you haven't been watching him the entire time, only to be disappointed when you're not startled in the slightest. "but...but..." he grumbles, hanging off your shoulders, arms wrapped dejectedly around your neck, "i tried so hard."

matt: "what do you mean, 'don't get the grand-dad shirt'? this is the peak of fashion!"

the shirt in question:

movie night -

chris: resorts to assailing you with tickling when he doesn't get his way. "i wanna - mmfh - watch The Lion - fuck! - King, so we're gonna fuckin' watch - you motherfucker - The Lion - GET BACK HERE!"

matt: keeps trying to drown his face in your tummy instead of watching whatever's put on the tv. "it's just so cozy." his words are incredibly muffled. "you begged me for three days to watch this with you." "mmfh. gimme head scratches." "you're such a baby." "i love youuuuu."

beach day -

chris: insists on playing mermaids ("wait how come you get the sparkly tail. i'm the merman king, i should get the sparkly tail."), lifeguards ("okay, okay, pretend you're like, drowning, yeah. why? so i can be a hero and save you! duh."), and terraforming the beach itself ("it'll be good for a tiktok, yeah, just dig the trench all the way up there by the towels, and then we can divert all the water away from here and-").

matt: hunts all morning for shells for you and teaches himself to braid so he can string them in your hair. he ends up tangling things more than he produces actual results, but is very careful to undo his mistakes and reapply sunscreen on your shoulders. "and here i thought you hated the beach." "i despise the beach," he says cheerfully, closing yet another ziploc baggie filled to the brim with shells. "can't wait to go home." "liar." matt smiles against your neck, his chest pressing into your back. "yeah, maybe."

farmer's market -

chris: conveniently forgets how much he hates fruits and vegetables because, "they just look so, like...anasthetic. that's the word right?" "nope." "anta...antacid? anna..." "aesthetic?" "that's the bitch, look at these strawberries, they're fucking huge-" "you let the strawberries nick bought last week grow mold in the fridge!" chris grins. "what's your point?"

matt: more focused on petting the dogs people brought with them than looking at the actual stalls with products/goods. "who's a good boy, yeah you are, hey babe we should get a dog, oh my god, you're just the sweetest lil' guy-"

night out:

chris: never lets you walk on the outside of the sidewalk and always stops to listen to the musicians through the bars' flung-wide windows. "baby, look, his guitar's got flames on the side. oh shit, you cold? hey, come here, kid," he chuffs, gathering you under his arm, dulcet harmonies flowing from the bar into the soft night air. "i love you," he murmurs, his lips fluttering against the shell of your ear. "i love bein' out here with ya."

matt: gently hands his finger from the belt loop of your jeans, guiding you lightly through the crowds, watching your face light up at the sights and sounds around you. "holy shit, they're so drunk!" "yeah," he says softly. he couldn't care less about a single other thing in this moment - how would he, when the sparkling neon of the nighttime scene washed over your features?

ice-cream date -

chris: plans to get something to share and refuses to hear anything to the contrary, grinning at all attempts to sway him. "yeah, she'll have - quit it - that one over there, please - i'll tickle you right here in public, i swear to god i will - yeah, thanks - miss lady you better watch it-" "...okay, this is pretty good." he scrunches his nose quite cutely in lieu of a verbal response, shoveling spoonfuls into his mouth.

matt: does literally everything he can to get you to make a mess just so he can do the cliche 'wipe ice cream from your lip' move. "i'm a classy guy, alright, leave me alone," he says with a grin.

cleaning day -

chris: CAUTION- may actually flat-out refuse. "we could just stay in bed though," he grumbles, holding your arm hostage. "we gotta cleannnn..." "nahhhh, come back to me." in a sudden burst of energy, he tugs you all the way back onto him, rolling you onto the mattress and under the blanket in one fell movement.

matt: shuffles your favorite playlist, turns it up, and dances with a feather duster you didn't even know he owned. "WHERE THE HELL DID THAT COME FROM?" "STOLE IT FROM NICK'S ROOM. COME ON, WE GOTTA DUST!"

grocery shopping -

chris: has a cart and a dream, and is infinitely more focused on you than actually locating the necessary items. "you want it? yes, mamas," he chuckles, "get whatever you want. yeah i mean it. that's what you want for dinner? okay," he shrugs, his downturned smile making his dimples show up and show out, "i'll make ya whatever you want."

matt: has a list and a plan, both of which quickly crumble as he finds it impossible to resist your impulse-purchasing. "no, baby, we gotta..." - long-suffering sigh - "we already have...yes we do, they're at home in your drawer...what do you mean, 'they're all gone', how did you...okay, well chris isn't SUPPOSED to eat your fucking snacks-"

vlogging -

chris: "okay guys, so i'm gonna take her to build-a-bear but it's gonna be a surprise so don't- HEY YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE OUT HERE YET-" the camera falls onto the couch as a blurry image of you and chris rolling around on the floor fades into view. his hat flies off and his weird, goofy laugh fills the living room.

matt: "hey guys >:|" "tell them :)" "i'm fuckin' getting there. so i said last time that i would never do this stupid wheel of punishments again, but someone convinced me-"

makeup/facials -

chris: "this feels colllld. i'm only doing this cuz i love u. what's this one supposed to do? the last one said it was gonna clean out my pores or something, and this one...'just looks cute', huh? i'm gonna fUCKING-" he launches off his bathroom counter and tackles you onto his bed in a flurry of kisses and tickles

matt: "i think i look great with eyeliner actually. what is it larray says, cunty? do i look cunty? why are you laughing?"

cuddle time -

chris: "absolutely not. come here mamas. you're not goin' anywhere, it's rainin' outside, an' i know you're still tired...come on, i miss ya already..." he smiles as you oh-so-reluctantly nestle back into the covers he holds up for you. "atta girl. stay here til' you die." "chris what the fuck." "that was romantic!" "...sure it was honey. sure it was." his laugh makes you roll your eyes, but the peppered kisses that follow make you smile in spite of yourself. "i love you...you know that, right?" "i had an idea, yeah." he tugs you into his body with a playful growl. "shut up."

matt: simply locks his legs around yours so you couldn't leave even if you wanted to. he traces lazy shapes on the back of your hand and his breath fans down over your neck. "miss girl..." "hm?" "were you aware that i loved you?" "ohmygoddoyoureally?" matt's hold tightens and his low chuckle rumbles through your skin. "you're terrible."

request to be on the taglist under this post right here

tags: @pinksturniolo @malirosee @st7rnioioss @nonat-111 @cindylcuwho @evie-sturns @h3arts4harry @fanficsbymia @dazednmatthews @sturniolo-rat @mattsmad @sturniolo04 @bellasturn @blahbel668 @yomamaslays4lyfe @stasiesturn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ariqolyx @wh0resstuff @krissy4gov @coochiedestroyer1 @solarsturniolo 

notes from bambi:

thank you for the request anon! i'm so sorry this took so long but i hope it was at least somewhat worth the wait, and i hope things get back on track for you soon <3

#the sturniolos #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #the sturniolos fluff #sturniolo triplets fluff #the sturniolo triplets fluff #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic fluff #matthew sturniolo fanfic fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic fluff #christopher sturniolo fanfic fluff #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x you

[vigilskeep]

I'm curious what you don't like about dao Leliana? If you've got any posts about it could you please point me in their direction?

i probably have posts somewhere but god knows where they are now. i will present a little overview

and to be clear, because i know this website, this is completely a matter of personal taste in writing and character, i am not, um, cancelling leliana dragonage or having anything but appreciation for those who like her, i am saying i probably wouldn’t want to hang out with her. i am also not attempting to convince anyone or justify anything, i am explaining my own feelings since i have been asked about them. i am going to use language that sounds a little overly harsh because i am trying to express those feelings succinctly without making this post very long by apologising and minimising with caveats about when i do like her

i find her a little grating. i find her characterisation based on her backstory irritatingly inconsistent, with genuinely confusing naivete for someone with a supposedly hardened backstory. she’s a literal bard, and she’s always always on the back foot in dialogue with quicker thinkers who can easily shock and scandalise her, and she believes horrors are too ugly for anyone to write about (literal bard!). i’m also vaguely baffled by the amalgamation of vibes they went for visually, like, idk for example, repeatedly mentioning the supposedly ragged boyish hair of someone incapable of understanding a lack of interest in high fashion and who expresses friendship by talking about nice shoes and hair specifically. it makes me struggle to buy into her as a character, and i find her hard to picture.

i think her compassion for others rings fairly false, possibly just on a poor voice acting level; if they wanted me to believe in it from listening to her dialogue when she chimes in during side quests, they got it wrong, i don’t. those bland comments, as cloying on the tongue as artificial sweetener instead of real sugar, are a let-down when i could have someone more entertaining in the party. i hear her talk and think: i wish i’d brought someone else. and her kindness is often shallow, buying into prejudice easily when left unchecked. which is again, weird for a character whose entire concept is being more worldly than she appears. part of that backstory is also definitely growing up mostly surrounded by elven servants, which makes those biases in that direction even more notable to me than they otherwise would be. she’s someone who’s absorbed in her own internal struggle yet who has never noticed the struggles of those around her until directly confronted. i am constantly disappointed by the missed opportunities with her character, like her mixed cultural identity barely being discussed in a game where the backdrop of the ferelden-orlais conflict being under-explored is to me one of really very few big storytelling mistakes, or like her mechanic where you can ask her about wherever you are—a really fun idea, for a bard!—and she literally never not once has anything interesting to say. like, come onnn. im the worldbuilding enjoyer. hit me with something

some of this is going to be affected also by me having spent the most time with her as my surana, who happens as a character to be a natural born hater, and also predisposed to share some of these feelings. i do find dao leliana much more fun to hang out with when playing a non-elven, non-mage character, but given the in-world context, that in itself is perhaps not a glowing recommendation? (obligatory note again, i am not up in arms that this fictional character has fictional prejudices against fictional people and i in fact think this part is good writing that suits the world. the version of her i adore is, after all, in dai when she has done significantly more wrongs including against elves and mages specifically.) it’s more that kindness should be what leliana has going for her as one of the most prominently good-aligned companions, and i don’t believe in hers. if i’m committing to this being me disliking the character rather than disliking some writing flaw, i could say that i read her compassion as a performance, and that’s something i happen to never really like in a person or character: when they act because they want to look like a good person, and feel like a good person, rather than because they truly care about the impact of their actions. maybe i don’t prefer her in dai because she’s somehow better written; maybe she just drops that mask i don’t care for. hard to say!

also her personal quest has some of the worst writing and acting in the game i never want to hear marjolaine again. please.

#and now for a childish addition: also i cant believe i get leliana and maric gets katriel. i shouldve had katriel #i wouldve treated her right. #leliana enjoyers please dont hate me for this i love your work. i love that you love your girl shes just not for me #top ten posts i am going to regret in the morning. hits that post button

[cinnamonest]

With this whole 'rape fantasies are a result of misogyny as they allow women a guilt free sexuality cos they have no autonomy'

Surely that means your writing and fantasies are contributing to misogyny? Adding to it and normalising it?

Like isnt the answer to write and encourage fantasies of empowerment? Not abuse and rape?

Just seems crazy to me like 'we do this because of misogyny. And we'll keep doing it'

Obviously some behaviour come from misogyny and exist to combat it. This... really doesn't

I just don't think it's a feminist win when your writing is indistinguishable from that of a misogynistic man's.

This isnt an attack on you it just really seems like common sense that if something exists because of misogyny the last thing we should do is feed into those ideas

(I assume this is coming from this post, so I might reference that a bit here)

No worries, I fully understand how this can come across negative to those who do not have the same experiences and I appreciate you approaching the matter in a non-attacking way with genuine desire to have dialogue on the subject. I'll do my best to address these points individually.

>Surely that means your writing and fantasies are contributing to misogyny? Adding to it and normalising it?

In the past few years fandom culture has become a bit obsessed with the idea of "normalization" to the point that the definition of the term has been a bit skewed, which creates issues with these discussions.

There is no concept of which existence of content containing it alone constitutes normalization, by the actual definition of the word. Normalization is the process by which it is distributed and way in which it is presented, and intent of its creation.

Normalization via fiction is a process in which a creator, generally intentionally, creates content that presents a concept as, well, normal. That is, not reprehensible or problematic to replicate, and presents this to a population with the intent of them accepting the idea as something acceptable in reality. Generally it also necessitates that the creator will try to ensure the media is viewed by mainstream general audiences who would not normally seek the content out, since the purpose of normalization is to make an idea acceptable amongst a population.

That is the opposite of what I am doing, which is creating a private space filled with warnings. I am going out of my way to ensure that people who do not want to see this content, have the foreknowledge to opt to avoid it.

By definition, if you’re creating content and ensuring that it is heavily warned, and marketing it as such that only a niche group who likes such content seeks it out, that’s not normalization by any reasonable metric.

>Like isnt the answer to write and encourage fantasies of empowerment? Not abuse and rape?

For some people, I’m sure that would help them, and in that case, that is a great solution for them.

But people are different, and certain things that help some, don’t help others. The types of fantasies that would probably be called “empowering,” personally do nothing for me but make me uncomfortable, in the same way that the sort of content I write makes some people uncomfortable. It does not have the same positive effects on my mental health that this form of content does.

>Obviously some behaviour come from misogyny and exist to combat it. This... really doesn't

That's fair — but it doesn't have to.

It is not intended to directly combat misogyny in any way, there are other ways to do that, and this does not have to be one. It's primary purpose is catharsis and the ways in which it benefits me and, as is my hope, those who choose to consume it.

>I just don't think it's a feminist win when your writing is indistinguishable from that of a misogynistic man's.

Again, I never had any intention for it to be a "win" — misogyny is the reason for why I have these desires, but in making what I make, my purpose is to provide catharsis for myself and others.

But also, I would heavily contest that it is indistinguishable from male fantasies. As someone who has seen actual men's misogynist fetishization fantasies, they are very different.

Female disposability and the complete worthlessness of women’s very being — that is, women being non-human objects that are interchangeable, and made to be used temporarily and replaced — is the core defining characteristic of male fantasy/sexuality. Male fantasies almost always involve multiple women to one man, largely because he does not have any actual bond with women, they are items to be collected, no interpersonal relationship actually exists.

The lack of interpersonal connection and lack of personableness itself is fetishized by men, what men get off to is the power they feel from completely disregarding the woman as a person in any way. The very act of the woman being thrown away after being used is fetishized.

In male fantasy, there is no interpersonal connection or affection of any kind, whereas that is one of the defining themes of content like mine.

Tl;dr — while misogyny impacts all women, the severity and form of it in different upbringings, environments and cultures can create misunderstandings and strong reactions when different people react so differently to the same content and thus form misconceptions about each other's perceptions and intentions, but I believe both sides of this argument are usually coming from a place of good intent.

While I fully understand how it would be difficult for those who do not have the same experience to grasp mine, I just ask for mutual understanding that some forms of content help some people, in the same way entirely different forms of content help other people.

[pomegranate]

I rewatched “Hanky Panky”, an episode I don’t revisit very often - in my opinion, it’s not a very good exploration of BJ and his faithfulness, and the concept kind of falls flat for me. The lovely @captainhunnicutt explains it perfectly in this post.

What it does do, however, is provide a fascinating depiction of Hawkeye reacting to his best friend being unfaithful. This turned out way longer than I wanted it to, so:

We see Hawkeye go through several phases, re: BJ and cheating. First, he teases him about it and the viewer is reminded (clumsily, see Shan’s post) that BJ is the ultimate family man - directly contrasting the charmingly lecherous Hawkeye.

Then we see the scene in the mess tent where they all get mail (BJ gets three letters! what a family man). BJ notices Carrie getting upset and leaving the tent, and he follows her, while Hawkeye silently observes BJ getting up from the table and leaving.

We don’t see Hawkeye again until the mess tent the next morning, where BJ shows up and Hawkeye plays up the worried parent angle before saying this. Note his posture during this scene; he crosses his arms when BJ shows up and when he says the line below, he shifts ever so slightly closer to BJ.

When BJ says he was sitting up with a sick friend, Hawkeye gleefully says “tell me all about it”, still enjoying getting a rise out of BJ. And then Carrie shows up and it’s obvious to everyone that something happened between her and BJ.

I know other people have talked about this scene so I’ll try to be brief, but Hawkeye is suddenly more awkward than we normally see him.

Hawkeye: “Donovan, you look like a new woman! Not that there was anythingwrong with the old one.” Carrie: “Thanks, I feel better.” Hawkeye: “Well, why shouldn’t we all feel good? Our work is so rewarding. Always lending a helping hand. Doing unto others.” BJ: “Hawk, your mouth runneth over.” Hawkeye: “I'm just teasing. I mean, do I know what I'm saying? Whatever it is, I don't mean it. Should I go?” BJ: “Just stop talking.” Hawkeye: “I will as soon as I get my foot out of my mouth. I think I'll put it someplace else. Ah, I'm being paged at the pool! Well, you two carry on. [laughs nervously] Strike that. This is me leaving. Here I go. Bye. So long.”

Hawkeye flees the mess tent and we don’t see him again until the Swamp, where BJ is writing a letter to Peg about what happened. He shows up and makes himself a martini before sitting down to be the comforting friend that BJ needs him to be.

(btw: in trying to goad BJ into opening up, Hawkeye says, “Pour your heart out. I'm a doctor, I can fix it.” Which is a line that makes me go nuts but anyway.)

So BJ opens up to Hawkeye and vents about how he doesn’t want to be unfaithful to Peg! He loves his family and is lucky to have what he has! Hawkeye is, of course, soft and sympathetic.

He realizes BJ was busy when he came in and asks him about it, and is immediately outraged when BJ explains that he’s confessing to Peg.

Hawkeye then makes BJ take a vow: “I promise to be a good and faithful husband, to write nice, cheerful letters home, to think of Peg often, and to keep my fat hands off Nurse Donovan.”

and then makes a vow of his own: “I, Hawkeye Pierce, vow that some day, I will take a vow just like his.”

Then we come to another awkward Hawkeye moment, where he finishes making his little vow and throws on a scarf, saying he’s “a little late for a very important date”.

Idk but Hawkeye didn’t seem like he had any plans when he entered earlier, and I know the obvious Doylist answer is “well they didn’t really think this scene through and we are simply meant to assume Hawkeye is going on a date”. But to me, it comes across as though he’s once again uncomfortable about the whole situation and has to flee BJ’s presence again.

It’s interesting to see how Hawkeye was very much having fun teasing BJ with the theoretical idea of him being unfaithful at first, but when he realizes that it’s actually happened - that BJ is not infallible and can & will have sex outside of his marriage if he lets himself - Hawkeye becomes incredibly nervous.

To go full Beejhawk in my interpretation of this episode, it feels like Hawkeye has been harmlessly flirting with BJ and enjoying having an unattainable crush on his best friend, knowing nothing could ever happen. And when he realizes that BJ can be pushed to be unfaithful, it rattles him. He has BJ make that vow and then vows to make his own version of the vow BJ made (not even touching that) and that’s that. What's the point of this post? I don't know tbh but I had to dump these thoughts somewhere and I've already done enough shouting at my pals on Discord. TL;DR: Hanky Panky is a weak episode in terms of exploring BJ's brush with infidelity but it's so interesting to look at with Beejhawk goggles on.

#beejhawk #mash #m*a*s*h #hunnihawk #mashposting #hanky panky #typed a lot of this while walking + on the bus + missed my bus stop & had to walk more. so sorry if it's not as clear as it could be

[charcoaldustonmyfingers]

Kinda oddly embarrassed to send this but oh my god your art is so pleasing to look at for some reason

I think it's just the soft shapes you use and how amazingly 3D everything tends to look?? Like the angles and proportions are just so perfect that I find it easy to imagine most of what you draw as a 3D model or something

And like I don't think I could nail it like you (maybe with time!!) But I am definitely taking inspiration from it because it DOES get me thinking about how you use shapes and angles and wonder if I could practice that because oh my god I wish I could absorb your art

Do you have methods or techniques to make it look so 3D? if you know what I mean? I tend to use grids to try and map out the shapes in a vaguely 3D plane, so I was wondering if you had tips kinda like that to share with the class? or if you're just winging it and it's a lot of practice?

Thank you so much!!! It really means a lot to me when others take inspiration from my art, it reminds me of all the artists I used to look up to and emulate when I was first starting out on MSPaint with a broken trackpad for a pen, you don’t have to be embarrassed! You’ll definitely be able to harness 3D space and create fantastic work, you’re already well on your way! Having passion and a desire to learn will take you far :)

My biggest focus whenever I draw is to make the characters feel real, as though you could reach out and enter the space they’re in to sit next to them on the couch. I’m so glad that I’m able to pull it off! Thanks for the rose, I’ll be sure to cherish it :)

As for my methods and techniques…

Drawing on a 3D grid plane is definitely something I do! Its perfect for comic panels or storyboards, to set the scene and ground characters or props to their environment.

I did a lot of classical study, that is life drawing and still life drawing, but simply using reference for buildings and anatomy also helps a lot and is a lot easier to find. I’d also sketch my hands, plastic animals, and my surroundings, as well as people watch for inspiration for character mannerisms or fashion. It’s useful to know a little bit about the inner workings of anatomy, as there are places were bone makes a person inflexible, while places with more muscle or fat are affected by things like gravity or pressure that change their shape. Drawing a flour sac to act out different emotions is a great way to practice weight and character acting!

Having studied animation, I did a lot of turnarounds to get characters consistent and able to be rotated in 3D space. It can be pretty tedious for some people, but it really does help solidify the characters’ shapes and design, and serves as great reference to look back on if you need it! If you don’t want to do something so stiff as a turnaround, simply drawing expressions and poses from dynamic angles helps too. I’ve found that breaking a character down into basic shapes that are easy to draw in a 3D plane also can help my anatomy and foreshortening be more accurate.

Most importantly, find something that brings you joy to draw! Every “traditional” method of study can be applied to things you like, so don’t feel the need to burn out thinking you can only draw the Mona Lisa or whatever. I’ve done anatomy studies on the Rise turtles to figure out their skeletal structure, and friends of mine have painted some mind blowing concept art inspired by Sonic and D&D!

I hope this helps some? Best of luck, and have fun! :D

Below are a couple of examples of some of my studies:

#ask #art tips #thank you! #it’s also definitely a lot of practice and winging it lol #i still don’t know how thighs and calves work sometimes

[ladyamanda123]

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus - My Analysis

Your hologram stumbled into my apartment

Hands in the hair of somebody in darkness named Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

And I just watched it happen

This line SCREAMS Kaylor! Karlie lived with her. She had a Karlie room in her apartment. I can absolutely picture a scenario where before they are “together” Karlie is bringing people home to Taylor’s apartment and Taylor is lying in bed just dying inside listening to it happen. It calls back to Hits Different with “I hear your key turn in the door” and Cornelia Street with “But then you called, showed your hand” line where there has clearly been an argument. That argument could have been Taylor losing it about Karlie bringing people home and then Karlie calling Taylor and confessing her feelings for her and the rest is Kaylor history!

As the decade would play us for fools

And you saw my bones out with somebody new

Who seemed like he would've bullied you in school

And you just watched it happen

Its quite literally been 10 years since the start of Kaylor. They officially met in 2013 and this album drops on 2024. Now Karlie is stuck watching Taylor beard with 🏈….the perfect representation of the dickwad football bro that would bully kids in school.

If you want to break my cold, cold heart

Just say, 'I loved you the way that you were'

If you want to tear my world apart

Just say you've always wondered

Years of bearding, distance, lies, etc HAS to have taken a massive toll. If they’ve been together this whole time there’s no way to that hasn’t been hard AF. If they split and then eventually came back together this will have still been all hard AF. Either way, whatever you think the reality might be, this decade has sucked! The idea of them looking back and who they were before this all blew up and saying….what could our life had been like if we hadn’t made these decisions. If we had been brave. If we had had control. If we had done this different. The hindsight must sting something horrible!

You said some things that I can't unabsorb

You turned me into an idea of sorts

If so much of this was out of their control but they decided to try and make it work, the buildup of being together someday….the fact Covid probably played a huge roll in delaying it….over time that distance will absolutely lead to this concept…. “You turned me into an idea of sorts”. Anyone who has been in any sort of long distance or forbidden relationship knows exactly what this is saying. When we don’t have the object of our desire and it builds up over time in our heads to be something it’s not. The pressure that puts on the relationship and the person to meet those unreasonably high expectations that have been swirling in your head all that time. If you’re not careful, if you don’t pivot those expectations, that shit can be insanely toxic to the relationship.

You needed me but you needed drugs more

And I couldn't watch it happen

I think this is a red herring line to make us think Matty, but I also think this could be a line from Karlie’s perspective and the drugs needed is Taylor and her fame and her mastermind plans. It could explain some of the anger at the fans she’s showing now. You wouldn’t accept us. You wouldn’t accept me. I chose you over the person I love and over myself. I played this part for you and now I’m wondering what if I had chosen the other path. What if I had picked her and picked us and picked myself over the drug of being who you wanted me to be for you. This brings to mind the line in Miss Americana where she talks about the addiction to the applause. It also ties in to the 🎃 anon message…. “You’re a selfish asshole….but you’re finally choosing her”

I changed into goddesses, villains and fools

Changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules

All to outrun my desertion of you

And you just watched it

More of the same theme….I made myself into this thing that everyone wanted…the fans, the labels, the media, my dad, etc. All in an effort to justify pushing us back in the closet and you just had to take it and now I think I chose wrong. I should have picked us over them.

If you want to break my cold, cold heart

Just say, 'I loved you the way that you were'

If you want to tear my world apart

Just say you've always wondered

If the glint in my eye traced the depths of your sigh

Down that passage in time

Back to the moment I crashed into you

Like so many wrecks do

Too impaired by my youth

To know what to do

Again, hindsight…looking back and realizing you made a choice and that choice had major consequences on your life and on the life of the person you love and you can’t go backwards and that breaks your heart now.

So if I sell my apartment

And you have some kids with an internet starlet

Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon

like it never happened

We aren’t those roommates from Cornelia Street and Maroon anymore. Everything has changed now. You’re stuck in this marriage/life and that apartment life we shared is gone now…did our choices back that lead us to a place where your feelings have changed? Have you forgotten who we were? Have you moved on? Is that version of us gone now because we’ve come to far from it?

Could it be enough to just float in your orbit

Down Bad reference…also could be asking if it could be enough to glass closet like before. Can we do the friend thing our whole lives and be okay with that? Or do we need to actually “come out” and be openly together for real?

Can we watch our phantoms like watching wild horses

“Dancing phantoms on the terrace” Very clear reference to Kissgate. Can we go back to that? Being “friends” and having the world openly speculate etc etc. I feel like this song is them finally coming back together and going “Okay, this is another cross roads for us. We fucked up last time. How do we fix this? Do we break up and let each other go? Do we go back to how it was…together but technically still closeted? Or do we do what we should/could have done back then and just be who we are and be together openly? Can we rewrite this ending? The prophesy ties in here too as well as the Manuscript. Looking back and wishing you had made different choices and examining if it’s possible to get your life back on track.

Cooler in theory but not if you force it

To be, it just didn't happen

The idea of us that we have been clinging to for 10 years, the expectations, the mastermind plans…are we holding on still to just a dream or an idea that no longer exists? It’s been 10 years and it hasn’t happened like we planned. So now what? Again this screams of a cross roads. They’re looking at each other saying we can’t keep doing this. We need to make a new decision or we will destroy ourselves.

So if you want to break my cold, cold heart

Say you loved me

And if you want to tear my world apart

Say you'll always wonder

Cause I wonder

Will I always

Will I always wonder?

The song ends with the desperate and vulnerable question. In Lover Taylor was exploring those vulnerable early questions in a relationship…..can I go where you go? Can we always be this close? Can this relationship go the distance? Are you my person?

Now they’ve arrived at the vulnerable possible end questions. Stop. You’re losing me. Is this the part where you break my heart? Are you going to tell me I fucked it up to bad and you’re leaving? Are you about to confirm what I fear? That I chose the wrong road and now I’ve lost you?

Ending on the question that way shows the decision wasn’t made yet at this point. The song leaves us in that desperate silence between the question and the answer.

This also calls back for me to Mine. When she runs out and braces herself for the goodbye. That’s what history has shown her. That’s what she expects in these moments. But this person is different. This person called and showed their hand. This person took you by surprise and said I’m not leaving you alone. Are they still that person? Or have you finally fucked it up enough that even they are about to leave you?

I think given the shit that’s dropping now, the TTPD lyrics, the massive cracks in the facade, we can figure out what choice was made…..”You finally chose her” ❤️

Hopefully, now at the end of this part, they can have their do over (Come one come all) and regain what was lost. Hopefully they can change The Prophecy moving forward.

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #chloe or sam or sophia or marcus #lyric analysis #karlie kloss #karlie ❤️ taylr #kaylor #gaylor

[angelofsmalldeaath]

Hiii, same anon that requested the bath time with Andrew here…I loved it so much, thank you for taking the time to write it!!

I don’t want to bother you with requests and all but I just came with this concept/idea and felt the need to share it with you.

Andrew is a big dog lover (we have proof of that) and so is his s/o. They have Elwood from time to time but after he returns to his parents the house feels different so they adopt a new dog. After a few weeks, his s/o thinks that another one won’t hurt them…Andrew thinks otherwise. She doesn’t listen to him and brings another dog to the house. The man can’t say no to her so they live happily with two furry friends. But that’s not the end, she keeps seeing dogs around the property and brings them with her. She tries to find good houses/owners that could keep them but some doggies are too old or very wounded so she prefers to keep them around. Andrew has been on tour for the majority of the last adoptions 😅 and when he gets home he founds his s/o with the two “”original”” dogs and three more. He witness how she bakes something and the dogs are around her keeping her company…making his heart melt at the same time he accepts she’s going to keep them coming and he’s not that mad about it 🥺❤️

Sorry this is so long!! You don’t have to write it or anything, I would love if you do but please don’t feel pressured to…I just needed to share!

oh my god!!! my heart!! 😭

i tweaked this a little and this is much shorter since this is only a continuation of your ask, hope you like it tho!!

cw: very brief mentions of animal cruelty but absolutely nothing in detail

he comes home to an unexpected dog barking at him.

he knows their dogs know him, they would never do that—but this is not "their" dog. and before he can say anything, she comes running out the door, smiling sheepishly, guilt written all over her face.

"sir meatball!" she scolds him gently and the old dog whines like a puppy would, all sweet and gentle and nuzzling her leg. she pats his head.

"sir meatball?" he asks, about to say something more when another (unfamiliar once again) dog comes running out. this one's bigger than the last, this one's got crazy eyes and a loud bark and an almost feral face when she crouches down and scratches his head.

like magic the dog calms down and yips—chirpy little puppy yips that sound so odd coming from a dog his size.

"and this is bruce," she says, wringing her hands.

"bruce and sir meatball," he raises an eyebrow, utterly clueless. "have i...did i come back to some alternate universe?"

"no i..." she scrunches her eyes shut, shaking her head. "right, i have a good reason, i promise!"

"oh no..."

"oh yes!"

and then he has no choice really...he leaves his bags by the door, follows her inside and settles on the settee, waiting for this explanation, trying to maintain a poker face (which does freak her out a little bit more and makes her ramble before she can launch into a proper explanation.)

"so i found sir meatball—and i didn't name him, it was on his collar—abandoned. i called the number too and talked to the most vile man ever," her face twists into an expression of disgust and he tries to hide a smile. "the man, ugh, the man said, and i quote 'you can keep him for all i care, my son don't want a useless, fat, old dog anymore.' can you imagine?! he's not useless! he's a sweetheart!"

he tries not to show it on his face, but his heart melts then. "and bruce?"

"he's a rescue, from a dog fighting ring—"

"why were you at a dog fighting ring?!"

"i wasn't!" she protests, "someone at work told me about him, they rescued him and couldn't keep him and he needed a loving home and i couldn't let him go back to the shelters! they would have put him down for being 'too aggressive'. he's not, he's a sweetheart too, i prom—"

"darling, breathe..." he moves to sit next to her, places a hand on her knee in an effort to calm her down. "i—"

"you won't make me send them to other families, will you?"

her eyes are huge, shiny too like she's three seconds away from bursting into tears and oh if he were even capable of saying no to her in the first place, that one expression...that would have got him.

"i won't," he sighs, "of course not, baby, i'd never do that."

"i love you, i love you, i love you," she hugs him tightly, mumbling i love yous and thank yous until he laughs and hugs her back. the she pulls away and bites her lip. "there's lila too...she's a little shy..."

"oh god, have you adopted an actual child?"

"no!" she giggles, "lila is a golden retriever, she's very old but she's so shy. she's loves our first two dogs though. they're probably in the backyard. do you want to meet them?"

he sighs deeply, closes his eyes for a long minute. "do i have a choice?"

she doesn't answer...she just grabs his hands and pulls him off the settee. and without asking any more questions, he simply follows.

#hozier #hozier x reader #andrew hozier byrne #andrew hozier byrne x reader #requests #hozier fluff #writblr #writeblr #writers on tumblr

[freedomfireflies]

Ooh yes need a Faerry concept, like him doing something mundane humans do with y/n like ride the hot subway and grumbling about it the whole ride and she's trying to placate him with promises of ice cream and wing strokes later🤣

"This is dumb."

"No, it's not! It's...fun! Like a carnival ride!"

"Right, and carnivals are dumb. Just like subways. Why would I take a subway when I can just fucking fly?"

You roll your eyes and lean your should against his. "Because people would notice you if you started flying. And the whole point of being here is to blend in, remember?"

Harry huffs. "Doesn't make it any less dumb."

"I know." You grin and lace your fingers with his. "But this is how I've been getting around for years. You get used to it."

"Even though it's hot and sweaty and stupid? And the people are loud and they shove you and the directions don't make any fucking sense? Yeah, I don't want to get used to that."

"Well, tough," you retort. "Like it or not, you're stuck with us dumb humans for a bit. I'm just trying to help make it a little more bearable."

"Mm." He glances over your face and you can see a smile threatening his lips. "If I do this for you, I expect you to do something for me."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"You know." He dips down to subtly brush the tip of his nose against your cheek. "I wanna see you. I wanna touch you and taste you. Wanna feel you."

Your lashes flutter and you bite the inside of your cheek. "You saw me last night."

"Don't care," he murmurs. "You don't know what it's like, little star. To never be able to touch someone else. Or taste them. Or know them in any other form. You're so...soft. And fragile. Fae's don't get to be soft and fragile. But you...you fit in my hands like they were always made to hold you. And I think they were."

You suck in a sharp breath and grab a fistful of his shirt to brace yourself. "Harry..."

"I just wanna hold you," he says gently. "Wanna feel your fingers on my wings. Wanna show you that I can deserve you. That I can be better for you."

You glance up and meet the dark, stormy green that manages to talk you into more things than it should. "Okay," you whisper.

He smirks. "Okay?"

"Okay." You take his hand. "Show me."

I HAVE NO IDEA IF THIS IS WHAT WE'RE THINKING FOR THEM BUT THIS WAS SO FUN AND CUTE, THANK YOU FOR SENDING IT 😭💞💞💞

#harry #harry styles #faerry #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles concept #concept #blurb #fae!harry #faerry concept #harry and little star

[utilitycaster]

Just caught up with the latest cr episode and wow. You’ve mentioned previously that you would like to see more conflict in Laudna and Imogen’s relationship, and i wholeheartedly agree. Which is why I’m obsessed with the fact that Imogen was the only who saw the repercussions of Laudna absorbing the dagger.

Having seen this, Imogen will not be able make excuses for Laudna’s behaviour in this instance. Whatever benefit of doubt Imogen may have desperately wanted to give Laudna was destroyed when Delilah showed up. Imogen can’t lie to herself about the fact that Laudna DID want the sword to feed Delilah. Laudna attacked a member of the party and even took precautions like casting magical darkness, so as to not be caught. I also feel like it’s important to highlight that while Laudna was manipulated by Delilah, she acted with FULL agency, she wasn’t possessed or anything of the sort. Laudna CHOSE to steal the sword for Delilah’s benefit and Imogen will have to grapple with that information.

It’s going to be so fun to see if Imogen keeps Delilah’s increased presence a secret from the party, OR how she will go about sharing this information if she chooses to do so. Because technically not saying anything is not only deeply irresponsible but could also be deadly, especially given their impending venture into Aeor.

Great points, and I agree entirely.

The thing about Imogen is that, as I've mentioned before, she in particular sees concealing information to be bad and deceptive, to the point that she specifically took off the circlet of the hidden eye after Ashton's shard absorption incident. Of all the things Imogen has said that are insensitive or hurtful, none have struck me as malicious; they've all struck me as coming from a person who, due to uncontrolled psychic powers in early adulthood, has a particularly intense and hypersensitive idea of the concept of white lies or lies of omission. Even when she accuses Laudna of lying in episode 89 it's interesting because I wouldn't personally phrased it as such - I'd say "why didn't you tell me," or "why didn't you say something," not "why did you lie."

Imogen takes lying to one's full allies pretty deathly seriously, and so I don't think she's going to feel okay lying even to protect someone she loves. Imogen also hates Delilah and has repeatedly said so. She's tried to love Laudna around Delilah, but I think as you say this makes it clear that is not possible: Delilah isn't going away without intervention, and her grip on Laudna is getting worse. She can't pretend anymore, and, to her credit, I don't think she will try.

#answered #jestersloverre #cr spoilers

[arcaneafterhours]

i drew the sbg characters if they were in my comics magic system heres a long post talking about their abilities

i somehow did doodles of all of them in one day lol. THIS IS GOING TO BE A VERY LONG POST BE CAREFUL ABOUT CLICKING READ MORE THIS IS JUST ME YAPPING ABOUT MY COMIC AND ABOUT SBG

ok so the magic system of my comic is basically this: your eye color aligns with a “concept”, and each concept turns into a very unique super power for each individual. it can be anything, as long as it fits the concept. literal or metaphorical. i designed this power system to be very vague so you can be super creative

ill explain each concept as i go down, but i basically switched the sbg cast with my cast, so all of them are called “duo ranked” and have heterochronmia, and their concepts have mixed together to create a new, entirely unique power that fits both concepts in its own creative way.

i also kept one color for every character except for aiden. i kept his red eye, because if i didnt i would be doing FOUR BROWN RANKS and i want to show off this system so ill only do 3 lmao

heres how it went:

starting off with ashlyn, her ability came pretty easy. i kept her green eye(the concept of growth) and gave her a white eye(the concept of enhancement(typically of ones own values or senses)), and they mixed together to give her control over sound, more specifically its volume and frequencies

its very useful for her, she avoids being overwhelmed way easier now and can switch off whatever is bugging her if it gets too loud. coincidentally, eavesdropping is INCREDIBLY easy, since she can just turn up a specific conversation she wants to listen in on. and she can manipulate frequencies so she makes tyler voicecrack all the time because its really funny. very simple power and its perfect for ash. her drawing turned out okay, i kinda rushed them all just to have them done dont expect high quality

I had a VERY fun time coming up with aidens power. he has his red eye(the concept of creation(self explanatory)) and i gave him a purple eye (the concept of perception, like illusions and such) and the two mixed together to allow him to turn duplicate illusions into reality (if he has enough strength to do so). he can create illusions that are specifically duplicates of objects, and they are only temporary for the time being until he actually ‘creates’ it, then of course it just permanently exists. he is limited to only a single duplicate, and one at a time. actually creating something is very draining

the only human duplicate he can make that will function correctly is himself, and he cannot make it more than a temporary illusion. he can make decoy human illusions, but he cannot make them real.

i had a lot of fun trying to draw his stupid hair it was good practice, im very happy with his drawing

next is tyler!! i put “pursuance” in the drawing because i never know how to describe it but tracking or pursual(is that a word??) is a better word i guess?? its in the works

I kept his brown eye(the concept of pursuit(being able to track things basically)) and gave him an orange eye (the concept of healing) and i gave him a pretty literal power of being able to track how far along the healing process an individual is. in turn, this also gives him the ability to sense when someone around him is hurt.

also, since he can track the healing journey, physically touching him will speed it up ever so slightly. if you have a stomach ache just go hug tyler and eventually you’ll feel better

now for possibly my favorite ability, TAYLOR :D! (featuring me forgetting the word pursuit exists and just putting ‘persual’ which may not be a WORD google LIED TO ME HELP DONT LOOK AT IT

ANYWAY just like tyler i kept her brown eye, and then i gave her a pink eye (the concept of connection), which gave me the idea of her being like tylers opposite. i wanted their powers to reflect each other, so where tyler can track physical injuries and how they heal, taylor can ‘connect’ with others and sense their mood and how it has recently been. almost like a graph!! sometimes she accidentally does it and gets overwhelmed trying to keep track of other peoples moods when she isnt prepared to handle it.

and just like tyler, physical touch from taylor will make you happy and calm (hugging taylor does that anyway) so she is like that scene in big hero six where they all lay on baymax because hes very warm and i love her

I HAVE NEVER DRAWN HAIR LIKE BEN PLEASE DONT ASK I DID MY BEST ON THESE LIYTLE DODLES

anyway

for the last time i kept bens brown eye because why does everyone have brown eyes, and then i also gave him white because i got a really really funny idea ok.

ben can track movement of people around him specifically, and he can enhance his own power. if he enhances it enough for one person, he can predict what their course of movement is about to be. its very immediate, so when hes trying to process it the action could very much already be happening. its very useful actually!!!

ITS TIME FOR MY FAVORITE ABILITY RAJGEJR FINALLY NO MORE BROWN ABILITIES

I kept logans blue eye (the concept of movement) and i gave him yellow (the concept of light) because yk yk hes a dlorist photosynthesis WHATEVER

he can basically control the movement of anything in bright light. the control on it he has depends on how bright the light is, so he finds it useful to keep a flashlight on him

THATS ALL, I HAD A LOT OF FUN FOJNG THIS I STARTED AT 10 AM AND FINISHED AT ABOUT 1:30 PM LMAO MY WRJSTS HURT A LITTLE :] If you like the magic system, i post all about the actual protagonists in #comicsafterhours if you want to see more idkffkjmdnfm,,,,,, anyway

if you actually read all that tysm?? love you lots?? ill probably draw my ocs in the sbg situation soon

#sbg #school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg (webtoon) #aiden clark #taylor hernandez #tyler hernandez #ashlyn banner #ben clark #schoolbus graveyard #comicsafterhours #oops