#I know it’s very different now from when I first checked it out

[a-pute11as]

Softie - Alexia Putellas

warnings - none?

words - 1.3k

Game day was your favourite, the build up of emotions, the performance anxiety mixed with the joy you felt every time you stepped onto the pitch. Nothing could ever beat the highs you felt when playing the sport you loved so much. Today was one of those days, well it was meant to be, yet the difference was that a very discoloured and swollen ankle caused by a dodgy tackle during international break meant you’d be missing out. The Barca medical team had decided it would be best to miss out on the upcoming away game, advising you to stay home and focus on rehab for the couple of days that your teammates would be away. 

Alexia had always been overprotective, both as your captain and girlfriend, she always had your best interest at heart and wanting her squad at full fitness meant she was quick to agree with the medical advice, even if that meant a couple days of prolonged separation. At first she did try her best to figure out a way you could successfully rehab whilst traveling with your team, but given the amount of walking an away trip often endured and the crutches you were temporarily restricted to, she decided against it. 

“Lo siento mi amor, we both know it’s for the best” Alexia hummed, her hand pressed against her cheek as you were saying your goodbyes at the front door of the shared apartment. Your body half limped against the wall as your crutches had been abandoned next to the sofa in your bid to say a proper goodbye to Alexia.

“Can you change your mind? It’s not too late for me to pack some things” You muttered, leaning into her soft hand as her thumb rubbed back and forth along your cheek. 

“Cari, you know what my answer is” She whispered, planting a small kiss on your forehead, leaving you to mumble in defeat.

You said your goodbyes and Alexia was soon gone, leaving you alone with the lack of comfort from your favourite person.

The next few days were full of rehab at the training center, consistent check ins from your girlfriend and a couple of facetime calls when she didn’t believe that you were doing your at-home recovery, something that Alexia often had to bribe you into doing.

You were now more stable on your ankle, meaning you could get around without the reliance on your crutches, allowing you the extra freedom of moving as you pleased. Ale was due home in a couple of hours and you knew she’d be tired so you set about the task of tidying your apartment. It didn’t take too long but the slightly limp in your step did somewhat slow you down and drain extra energy. 

After finishing you were quick to take a shower and put on a change of clothes, consisting of a pair of Alexia’s Spanish national team shorts and her hoodie. Stumbling back towards the sofa, you planted yourself on it comfortably, waiting for the door to open to embrace the person you’d had been missing. 

It didn’t take long for you to adjust yourself into a comfier position whilst the time seemed to drag. You searched for a questionable English reality show, one that Ale would ridicule you for whenever you asked to watch it together, she never got the appeal of British humour yet it made you feel at home. Your phone pinged as you made another adjustment to your leg to seek some kind of peace from the discomfort of baring weight on it had caused. 

*amor - get some sleep, the plane has been delayed slightly so i will be late home and i know you’re tired already*

You furrowed your eyebrows at her suggestion of sleep, determined to greet her with wide eyes and a smile as soon as she entered the room. 

*you - ale i’m wide awake, i’ll be here when you’re up so you can tell me all about it*

In reality you already knew all about it, you had watched the match with Ellie, who was also kept back from traveling due to recovery, you had been receiving updates from both Patri and Pina about the ‘cute’ things Ale had said in passing conversations about you. As well as a message from Kiera asking if my girlfriend would ever not make up excuses for the time when we snuck away from a team celebration to cuddle. Her usual excuse was to blame it on me, but in reality she was tired after a big win and didn’t want to look too soft to the rest of the team. 

*incoming FaceTime call from amor*

“Hola cari” Alexia smiled, as the phone lit up your face.

“Hi babe, everything okay?” You smiled back, stifling a yawn that tried to expose your tiredness to your girlfriend. 

“Just thought I’d check in before the flight, make sure you’re as wide awake as you say you are” Her smile shifted into a smirk knowing exactly the type of person you were. 

“No confias en mi, amor?” You questioned, tilting your head to the side, teasing her intentions. 

“No cariño, confío en ti, pero siempre estás cansada y siempre te quejas." She responded, mocking your head tilt with similar teasing intentions. 

“Ale who’s that?” Patri said, peering her head into the screen, a smile appearing on her face as she realised who it was, “It’s lover girl!” She added, using the nickname she had given you when you first let her know about your relationship. She was quick to take the phone from Alexia’s han for herself. 

“Patri, give her the phone back” You laughed, knowing she had every intention of causing some kind of trouble.

“No, venga, say hello to everyone” She held the phone up, announcing your presence causing you to wave at your teammates that had now focused their attention on the phone.

“Are you staying up to give your girlfriend a goodnight kiss?” Pina laughed, as she began to blow kisses towards the phone.

“Oye, dámelo” Alexia said, standing as she grabbed the phone from Patri’s hand swiftly, “The flight is boarding now amor, go to sleep”. You mumbled in response before saying your goodbyes and hanging up.

Even though you were determined to stay awake, it didn’t take long for your eyes to grow heavy as the comfort from Alexia’s borrowed clothes took over your senses.

“Mi amor, wake up” Alexia cooed, her hand running through your hair to stir you through your sleep.

Your only response was a few very tired grumbles as your eyes opened to the sight you’d been waiting for. It took a couple of seconds for you to realise what was going on before a sleepy smile overtook your face.

“Ale, you’re home” You smiled, pushing yourself up off the sofa and wrapping your arms around her quickly.

“Si, I thought you weren’t tired huh?” She laughed, placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

“It was an accidenttttt” You whined, “I got comfy in your clothes and they smelt like you so it made me tired”. 

“Oh nena, vamos a la cama” She suggested, taking hold of my hand and leading me towards our bedroom. 

“I’m not even tired amor” You announced, as if there was any use convincing her that you were telling the truth. 

Within 5 minutes both you and Alexia were settled in bed, your head resting on her chest as her fingers made their way through your hair slowly. Your hands ran up and down her chest as you both sleepily talked through how you spent your days and the parts you missed each other the most.

“Patri and Pina didn’t stop teasing me about you staying awake for me to get home” Alexia laughed slightly, “They don’t think I’m tough anymore”.

You sleepily laughed in response, “You’re a massive softie, I think they already knew that”. 

a/n - not sure how i feel about this one, so v sorry if its a lil shit x

[mynameismad]

What have I been up to?????

Hey all! I'm sure you're all cycling rapidly through the stages of grief like I am, but I thought I'd just check in and let everyone know what's going on with me and when they can expect more comics!

GOOD NEWS: I got a concept art job! I've been working freelance for a client for about two months now and things are going great! Honestly working on short assignments with weekly deadlines has been an amazing break from the slow, constant march of longform comics. I am surprising myself every day and haven't been this excited to learn and grow as an artist in a very long time. Moving forward, I would like to find a full time job in games and stay there, rather than continuing to hustle full-time in comics. I've paused my Patreon for the foreseeable future.

THAT BEING SAID: I will always be making comics!!!!!! I love them a lot, they've been good to me, and I have all these ideas in my head that NEED to be let out. I want to start making them in my own time, rather than as my main source of income. We'll see how long it takes to find true stability in concept (maybe never, lol) but in the meantime I will keep drawing my silly little guys and posting them online for everyone to see. I have to! I have to keep going and making the art I want to see in the world! We have to keep going!!!!

SAKANA: hoping to get back to the fish boys sooner rather than later. I've been stuck on whether to end the latest chapter right away or get a few more pages in there. We're moving into a HEAVY part of the plot, which will be trickier to write, so I've been procrastinating lol. Please don't take my extended absence as proof that I'm walking away from the story: I've just been busy with a new job and I don't know exactly how to get to the next chapter yet!! (also, jsyk, the Webtoon mirror is something I was doing for fun! not a priority!!)

RR: I actually have a few different projects started for RR! Chapter 2 is like 9 pages in, but then I paused and started work on a 20ish page minicomic, which is like 7 pages in. I'm going to finish the mini first and hopefully upload it to itch.io. For Chapter 2, I created this really elaborate environment in an effort to force myself to learn Blender, but then I got a job....so I have no time to learn Blender lol. Still trying to figure out whether to simplify or push forward.

OTHER: yeah...I am a comic artist at heart so obviously I have a million things I want to do. But SAKANA and RR are the highest priority right now!

UPCOMING: I am pursuing other freelance work for shorter, more manageable projects! If you need somebody to redline all your thumbnails, critique the first draft of your synopsis, or make a 20-40 page comic, please keep me in mind!

In closing: I'm locking my twitter accounts tonight and moving away from the platform for now. I'll be here, Instagram (@/mad_rupert), and BlueSky (@/madrupert). Thanks for sticking with me, let's hold onto and support each other in the coming weeks, months, and years! Let's keep going!!!!! I love you all so much!!!

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 4

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: swearing, drinking/alcohol, mentions of sex, mentions of blood, violence, killing, angst, i hate the pacing of this but i rewrote it like three times and then gave up

series masterlist │my masterlist

after sharing your first kiss, logan becomes much more clingy. he’s attached to you at nearly all times. if you’d thought he was affectionate before, you had no idea what you were getting into. his favourite thing is to press his face into your neck, licking and biting the skin there, but it’s not just your neck. you’ve become a chew toy for a 400 pound man.

he’s never too harsh with it, always gentle with you. he knows you’re not as strong as him. it’s affectionate nibbling, like dogs biting their owners, and you love it because it’s such a clear sign of logan’s happiness.

it reminds you of the early days with logan, where he couldn’t stand to be in a different room as you, though now it’s no longer out of fear but out of a deep desire for closeness and companionship.

and things are good for a while, like that. you enjoy the ease of your unlabeled relationship. he’s yours and you’re his, in every capacity. there’s no need to put an arbitrary, man-made label on your relationship when most of it is quiet, unspoken. you’ve never really had a conversation about what you are, but it’s obvious.

you had thought yourself happy before meeting logan, at peace with the life you’d made for yourself, self-sufficient and doing all the things you loved. you weren’t slaving away at a corporate job, making hardly enough money to support your hobbies, leaving you with hardly any time to enjoy them anyway. it was good.

this is a different kind of happiness, one you’d thought was only real in fairytales. you feel as though he has some sort of six-sense telling him how you’re feeling, when you’re tense or unhappy. he makes you feel like a princess.

but all good things must come to an end. 

he starts to have more nightmares, takes to sleeping in the guest room because he doesn’t want to keep you awake all night with him. more often than not you’ll hear him shouting in his sleep, deep grunts of pain that have you rising from your bed and joining him, hoping your presence will soothe him.

and you like to think that it does. you never get too close to him when he’s tossing and turning restlessly, claws out, metal gleaming in the low moonlight streaming from the gap in the curtains, but you know that logan’s senses are enhanced, heightened, and so you hope that he can feel your presence even while stuck in a nightmare, that you can drag him out of it. eventually he always either settles or wakes up, though both are better alternatives than watching him struggle against an invisible enemy.

you’ve had a few more close calls, where his claws get a little too close, where you let your guard down and lean closer towards him even though you know better, because your heart aches for him.

he becomes more human by the day. he doesn’t tell you when his memories start to come back to him, but you can tell.

you can tell when you get home to find him on the couch with a bottle of whiskey that he must have gotten from the cellar, the one you’d never shown him how to find. it belonged to your grandfather, so you’d gotten it along with the house, but you don’t drink very often and so you haven’t made much use of it.

he takes large swigs of the half-empty bottle, the smell of whiskey on his breath and the taste of booze on his tongue when you go to kiss him. 

you can tell when he becomes less expressive with you, no longer sharing his emotions on his face or with his behaviour as easily as before. he doesn’t bound up to you and sniff you to check where you’ve been, to check if anyone’s gotten too close, their scent clinging onto your clothes. he doesn’t growl when he’s upset or annoyed, just grits his teeth and clenches his jaw tight.

you can tell by the way he holds back his little noises when you pull his head into your lap, scratching at his scalp and tugging on the longer tufts of his hair that you’d jokingly started to refer to as kitty ears. you miss the soft purring, the knowledge that logan was happy and comfortable with you.

sometimes you’ll plan out conversations in your head, acting out how you’ll talk to him and the words you’ll use and how he might reply. but when you try to ask him if he’s alright, placing a hand on his trembling one, sitting down in his lap so he can’t escape, he always shrugs it off. he tells you you’re sweet for worrying about him and kisses you until you no longer remember what you wanted to say.

there’s something happening in his mind that he’s not telling you about, but you chalk up all his odd behaviours to him needing time to deal with remembering his old life.

if his constant nightmares tell you anything, it’s that the memories returning to him aren’t positive ones. there’s a pain in him that wasn’t there before, a darkness that lingers behind his eyes, haunted by things he’s seen. you can’t imagine anyone would deal very well with the onslaught of traumas returning with a vengeance.

he doesn’t stop kissing you, doesn’t stop hugging you from behind, doesn’t stop surprising you by sneaking up behind you and picking you up out of nowhere, making you shriek and giggle. so you tell yourself you’re being dramatic, it’ll resolve itself in time.

it doesn’t.

he goes out to run through the forest, to hunt as the natural predator he was always meant to be, but when he comes back he won’t speak to you. he shrugs you off, locking the door to the bathroom so you can’t meet him in there.

it’s a small thing, but it’s a crack in the routines you and logan have been building together, the wordless nature of your relationship crumbling around you because all of a sudden it no longer feels like the two of you are on the same wavelength.

you cry silently on the couch, head in your hands, feeling like your world is collapsing. the perfect bubble that had settled around you and logan had popped, and now reality was coming in to destroy the fantasy you’d grown accustomed to. you should have seen it coming - in fact, you had, with every night he spent in a bottle instead of on your lips, but you’d chosen to ignore it.

he doesn’t seem to be as in-tune with your emotions anymore, and you wonder if it’s because he simply doesn’t care enough to try.

the through wrenches you in two.

you had given logan your heart, placed it in his rough, calloused hands and asked him to hold it for you. and now you could feel that very same hand, once so gentle and careful, squeezing tighter and tighter, a physical ache.

you need time away from him, away from the house where every corner has memories attached. so you journey into town.

you’re out for a while, walking aimlessly. the streets grow dark, the sun setting in hues of orange and pink behind the horizon, streetlamps turning on to replace the sunlight, though their dim glow is hardly an effective replacement. and still, you don’t return home, not quite ready to face logan.

it’s as you’re preparing to head back, muttering reassuring words to yourself under your breath, that someone grabs you from behind, a hand against your mouth so you can’t scream. you’re shoved into an alley, thin and dingy between two shops that have already closed for the night, their employees gone home to rest, no one around to hear your struggles.

you scream, though the sound is muffled, and cry and kick at your assailant, but he won’t let go. he’s stronger than you.

you think about logan, who doesn’t know where you are, who probably walked out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist, stray droplets of water tracing down the grooves of his abs. you think about how on any other day you would have kissed down his chest to catch the water on your lips, not yet venturing below his waist, though you’ve done other things.

you hope you don’t die tonight. there’s still so much you haven’t done, so much you haven’t said.

and then the body holding yours is gone and you fall to the ground, knees scraping the pavement on your way down. you cry and cry, fear and anger and relief all washing together into a mess you can’t name. you barely notice the sounds of your assailant begging for mercy, or the low growl from your saviour. but you can smell the blood in the air, the tang of iron.

“what the fuck were you thinking?” strong arms lift you up and instinctively you squirm to try to get away, until a hand grabs your chin and forces your gaze upwards. logan’s furious glare stares back at you, his eyes narrowed and jaw tense.

“i- i’m sorry,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out, and you collapse against him. because even if he’s covered in blood and his claws are still out and he’s just murdered a man, even if he’s clearly angry and dangerous, you’ve never felt safer.

he’s quiet the whole way home. he doesn’t speak to you as he carries you inside the house, refusing to let you walk on your own, doesn’t speak to you as he cleans the cuts on your knees, doesn’t speak to you as he settles you down on the couch with a soft blanket fresh out of the dryer, doesn’t speak to you as he makes your tea the exact way you like it.

and then, “wanna tell me what you were doing out there? you know it’s unsafe for a pretty girl like you after dark, you don’t need me telling you that.”

“i just needed some air,” you argue, though there’s not much heat behind the words, staring down at your steaming mug of tea, watching the unmoving liquid as if it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. logan scoffs, and you can see him in your peripheral vision, looking so unlike the man you thought you knew.

“there’s plenty of air here, we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

“you know what i mean,” you sigh, and he stares at you with his hands on his hips until you roll your eyes and continue, “i needed to be away from you! is that what you want to hear? you’re different lately and it scares me because everything was so great for some time and now you’re…”

“different?” he laughs sharply, “yeah, i’ve got my memories back. i remember every awful fucking thing that’s ever happened to me, every time i’ve been tortured. you know how many times i’ve been tortured? you think i’d act the same after that?”

“it’s not that,” you argue, placing your mug down on the coffee table, “we don’t sleep in the same bed anymore! you refuse to let me see you when you come home after hunting! you don’t cuddle up to me like you did before! you used to kiss my neck all the time and now you don’t! you’re just… pulling away. and i know i’m being selfish, fuck do i know it. but every time i’ve tried to have a conversation with you about this you shut it down so what was i supposed to do, logan?”

“you wanna have a conversation?” he shouts, “fine, talk.”

your breath is coming out in ragged pants. there’s a fire in your veins, a fury you haven’t felt in a very long time, it’s intensity paralysing you. you watch logan’s face, the way he stands before you, his imposing figure stretched above yours.

and there’s nothing you can say. the words you’ve been preparing every night before bed for days and days flutter away in a breeze. all you can do is watch his chest rising and falling.

“i wish you would talk to me,” is the only thing you manage to choke out.

“you’re not getting that version of me back,” he says, voice finally softening into something resembling his usual gruff but not unkind tone, “i remember who i am now. so you gotta let go of this shit, or you gotta let go of me.”

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist @scorpiosaintt @akasha157-blog

if your name is in white it means i couldn’t tag you for some reason. i’m very sorry :(

[mythicalmaven]

Beyond Boundaries - Oscar Piastri (PART TWELVE)

I'm sorry in advance for the angst, i promise you, they'll be fine lol! Next chapter will be very angsty as well (which ill post later tonight), but I promise you that after the next one, it will get better! <3 Just trust me lol

Sorry btw for the long update wait, I fell ill sadly. Just got a bit better, so immediately took the chance to update lol. Upcoming Thursday I'm getting surgery for a chronic illness I have, so i've written a few chapters in advance to give you some updates. Would you want me to upload them asap? or prefer it to be spread out more?

Masterlist ↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!norris!reader ↳word count: 3.2K ↳chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, ↳chapter warnings: friends to lovers, brothers teammate trope, kissing, talking about feelings, angst

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, you both realize you might be feeling more a little more for each other than just friendship

It was the morning of the Japanese Grand Prix, when you stood by the window of your hotel room, bathed in the soft glow of the rising sun, when the faint sound of a rattling door handle reached your ears. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips, knowing there was only one person it could be.

When you had checked in, you’d handed Oscar the spare keycard, giving him the freedom to visit whenever he wanted. It had become second nature, the quiet understanding between you two—no need for formalities.

As you continued to gaze out at the horizon, you felt a familiar warmth as two arms wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you into a gentle embrace. His chin came to rest on your shoulder, and you heard his soft voice, warm like a summer breeze. "Hi," he whispered, the sound sending a ripple of comfort through you.

You leaned into his touch, feeling your heartbeat quicken, but in the best way. "Hello to you too," you whispered back, your voice almost lost in the quiet of the moment.

The scent of his cologne, something undeniably him, drifted over you as he shifted slightly, his lips brushing softly against your cheek. "I missed you today," he murmured, his breath warm on your skin, the tenderness in his voice making your chest tighten.

Turning slowly in his arms, you faced him, your eyes catching his as you looked up through your lashes, teasing a bit. "Oh? Did you now?" you replied, your hands moving to circle his waist, fingers idly tracing delicate patterns on the fabric of his shirt.

"Yeah," he breathed softly, as though the admission was a weight he carried all day, now finally let go. His hand moved gently, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear with such care it made your heart flutter. His eyes flickered to your lips, lingering for a moment before lifting back to meet your gaze. There was a silent question in his eyes, one you had both answered many times before, but today, it felt different. Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and the world seemed to still.

His lips brushed against yours, feather-light at first, as if he was testing the waters, savoring the moment before fully sinking into it. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant, but filled with such tenderness that you felt your whole body tingle with warmth. He kissed you like he was rediscovering something he’d been longing for all day.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, your senses filled with nothing but him—the soft press of his lips, the faint scent of his cologne, the way his thumb gently caressed your jawline as he cradled your face in his hand. Every nerve in your body came alive, responding to the gentle way he moved against you, slow and deliberate, as though he had all the time in the world to cherish this moment.

You melted into him, one of your hands slipping up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. The kiss deepened ever so gradually, the gentleness of it leaving you breathless. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t filled with the electric tension of your earlier kisses—those had been urgent, as though you were afraid the moment might slip away. But this… this was different.

Oscar kissed you like you were precious, like he wanted to memorize every second. His lips moved against yours with a softness that made your heart ache in the best way. When his tongue finally brushed yours, it was slow, careful, an exploration rather than a demand, sending a wave of warmth flooding through you. The butterflies in your stomach turned into something more—a heady rush that made your knees feel weak. The kiss was languid, unhurried, each movement filled with an intimacy that spoke volumes, as if you were the only two people in the world.

When you finally pulled away, the air between you crackled with the quiet intensity of what had just passed. Oscar’s forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with your own, both of you a little dazed by the experience.

He blinked, as if coming back to reality, and a small, breathless laugh escaped his lips. "Wow," he murmured, his eyes soft and filled with something that made your heart skip a beat.

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth in your cheeks. "Yeah… wow indeed."

The moment stretched between you, neither of you in a rush to let it slip away, both basking in the afterglow of the kiss, hearts pounding, completely in sync.

Oscar absentmindedly twirled a lock of your hair around his finger as he spoke up, his voice still hoarse from your earlier kiss. "Since I can’t really take you out on a proper date… I was thinking we could maybe order room service tonight after the race," he suggested, his tone soft and tentative. "And, maybe watch a movie together? If you’re up for that?"

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through you at the thought. The smile that had been playing on your lips since the kiss only deepened. "That sounds perfect," you replied, your voice light but filled with affection.

Oscar smiled, leaning in to give you a soft, chaste kiss before pulling back. "We’ve got to head out in about 30 minutes, by the way. Lando’s meeting us in the lobby," he added, his eyes twinkling as he mentioned your brother.

"Right, sounds good," you responded, but hearing Lando’s name tugged at something in the back of your mind—something you still needed to tell Oscar. Taking a deep breath, you began, "Speaking of Lando…"

Oscar raised an eyebrow, settling himself on the edge of the bed as he looked at you curiously. "Hmm?"

You shifted slightly, scratching the back of your neck, feeling a flicker of nerves. "Well… Lando knows. About us, I mean. That we’re, you know… trying to give this a shot."

Oscar's expression softened immediately, and he reached out, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your skin. "Okay," he said simply, his voice calm, encouraging you to continue.

You exhaled slowly, glad for the comfort of his touch. "We were having dinner yesterday, and you know how brothers can be. He just… knew I was hiding something. I didn’t want to lie to him, so I told him—about how I feel about you, and how we’re figuring things out, no labels or anything."

Oscar’s grip on your hand tightened, but it wasn’t in discomfort—it was reassurance. "It’s okay," he whispered, his voice so gentle it made the tension drain from your body.

You glanced down at your intertwined hands, the weight of his acceptance making you feel lighter. "You’re sure you don’t mind him knowing?" you asked cautiously, meeting his eyes again. "I know we agreed to keep things private, and I didn’t want to disappoint you…"

Before you could finish, Oscar gently pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around you. "Of course I don’t mind," he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. "Honestly? If it were up to me, I would’ve called you my girlfriend already."

A soft sigh escaped you, the complexity of it all pressing down again. "It’s just… complicated, Osc," you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder.

He pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, his breath warm against your skin. "I know you feel that way," he replied, his free hand coming to rest on your thigh, his thumb stroking you with the same tenderness as before. "And that’s okay. I’ll wait for you—for as long as you need. Even if it takes years."

A single tear slipped down your cheek, the weight of his patience and love overwhelming you. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

Oscar’s thumb gently wiped the tear from your face, his smile soft but unwavering. "Don’t be sorry, love," he said, his forehead coming to rest against yours, the warmth of his presence grounding you. "You’re here, with me, and that’s all that matters. Label or no label."

The sincerity in his words melted any remaining doubt, the comfort of his arms around you making you feel like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊ ⁺⋆⁺

You made your way from to paddock to the garage as you saw Oscar's call pulling into the pit lane, making his way to his designated garage. Normally you looked forward to this moment, Oscar climbing out the car and having your little post race debrief.

This time it was different, it was time for the plan that was made. You leaned with your back against one of the walls near the entrance of the garage, looking at what was unfolding in front of your eyes. Ava was standing in the garage, close to Oscar's car, taking the headphones of her ears, fixing her way too beautiful hair.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, your brother Lando. When you turned around you saw him looking at you with a caring look on his face "You sure you want to see this?" he whispered, low enough that only you would be able to hear.

You swallowed, hard. You shook your head "No, but I don't really have a choice, do I?" you replied, sighing softly "I'm always here after the race, it would be a bit unusual if I'm suddenly not there"

Lando agreed wordlessly with you, squeezing your shoulder "You struggling more with this plan every day, aren't you?"

You nodded, your hands fiddling with the hem of your McLaren team shirt "Yeah, but I'll be fine. I'll get over it"

Lando tried to keep talking to you, tried to keep you distracted so you wouldn't see the whole happening, the stupid media plan, but he saw the ways your eyes shifted to Oscar as he climbed out of the car, taking of his helmet. Lando noticed how you were watching Oscar making his way over to Ava, gently grabbing her hand, squeezing it softly. Purposefully making it seem as if he was trying to avoid the camera, while he made sure the cameras were pointed at him.

Ava send Oscar a smile, she looked genuinely taken away by how good Oscar looked getting out the car. Everything in you hoped it was just proving how good of an actress she was, but somewhere in you you were scared. She was pretty, in your opinion way prettier than you.

Your breath got stuck in your throat, a pang of jealousy stinging in your heart as you saw Oscar leaning down a little, pressing his lips to Ava's cheek, before moving his lips to her ear, clearly whispering something in her ear, something you couldn't decipher.

You felt yourself drowning in feelings you couldn't explain. You felt hurt, even though you knew this was totally planned & not Oscar's choice. It wasn't much, nothing more than a kiss on his cheek, but you wanted it to be you.

You wanted to be the one in his arms after the races, and not just being his behind closed doors. That's when you realized, you wanted to be his, and not in the way you were now. You wanted to be his girlfriend, something you could ethically never be.

You felts tears pricking in the corner or your eyes, as you turned on your heels "I-I can't do this" you stuttered to your brother, trying to rush off.

Lando grabbed your arm "Y/n.. don't go.. I want to be there for you, but you know I can't leave now" he uttered.

You knew he couldn't leave, since he still had some obligations he had to do, so you definitely didn't blame him in any way, but you just couldn't stay here any longer.

"It's fine, Lan. I-I.. I just gotta get out of here"

With those words you rushed out of the garage, making your way to somewhere quiet, leaving Lando dumbfounded in the garage, watching as Oscar made his way over to him.

Oscar looked in the direction you were walking, his eyes shifting back to Landon "Where is she going?" he asked, his voice a little timid.

"She had to.." Lando started, trying to come up with a lame excuse, not wanting to snitch on his own sister "meet up with someone from the medical team, something unexpected came up"

Oscar was a bit skeptical, but seemed to buy it. He wanted to speak up, asking Lando when she'd come back, but was cut off by the feelings of a hand grabbing his upper arm, specifically Ava's hand.

"Hey" Ava greeted to Lando.

"Hi" Lando spoke, a bit stoic. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. It wasn't as if he disliked Ava as a person, after all, she was just doing what was told, but he just didn't like to see his sister this way.

She looked up as Oscar, giving him a small side hug, so she could whisper something "I think that was enough for the camera's, I'll be in the hospitality when you need me"

"Y-Yeah.." Oscar whispered, awkwardly hugging her back "Sure, I'll see you later"

Lando shot Oscar a knowing look as Ava disappeared from their sight, leaving the boys alone again. Oscar threw his hands up in the air "Please, don't even say anything" he whined desperately.

Oscar sighed again "Did she see it?" he asked, carefully.

Lando nodded, pursing his lips together "Oh, yeah, she definitely did"

Oscar felt himself freeze. His chest tightening, his voice quivering "Honestly, I don't think I can do this". The whole PR thing, I hate it""

Lando sighed, resting against the wall "Then why did you agree?" he asked.

Oscar looked around him, making sure no one would be able to eaves drop on their conversation "I didn't want her career to get screwed over because I couldn't keep my feelings in check"

Lando took a step forwards, moving closer to Oscar's ear to make sure he could whisper his next words soft enough "I honestly think this is destroying her as a person more, than you two going public would destroy her career"

It had been that same day, that Oscar had decided he couldn't do this. He didn't want to and he was going to talk to Zak about it. Tell him that he was to socially awkward for this, that he didn't feel comfortable. He wanted to say that he could come up with a statement explaining what exactly had happened between the mystery woman and him when those pictures of the two of you had leaked.

Though it seemed that luck hadn't been on his side. Every time he even got close to talking about it, something else came in the way. If it wasn't Zak, it was someone from the media team. All in all it had been over two weeks and he still hadn't spoken to Zak about it.

It ate him up inside, but instead of talking about it, he did what he always did. Pushing it away. Pretending like it didn't bother him. Convincing himself that he could do this for you, to protect you. Because that was what it all seemed to be about for him, protecting you from the media.

Every time he had confronted you about it, asked if you were still okay with it, you had lied to him that you didn't struggle with it. Trying to convince both him and yourself that it did you nothing. Oscar could sense that you were lying, but didn't want to press too much.

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊ ⁺⋆⁺

A few race weekends had passed since the whole PR stunt began, and you found yourself lounging on Daniel’s bed, playing video games with him. You and Daniel had always shared a close friendship—he was like a brother to you. Lately, since everything started with Lando and him, your bond with Daniel had only strengthened.

Today, as with so many days before, you’d turned to him for advice. Letting out a deep sigh, you shifted your gaze to the ceiling. “I think I might need to end things with Oscar.”

Daniel mirrored your sigh, understanding the weight of your words. “It’s getting to be too much, isn’t it?” he replied gently.

Your breath caught for a moment; he’d hit the nail on the head. You had spent weekend after weekend watching the guy you loved cozy up to someone else. You knew it was staged, but that didn’t make it any easier. It was taking a toll on your mental health.

“Yeah, something like that,” you muttered, fiddling with the controller in your hands. “I just don’t think I can keep this up much longer.”

“Why not?” he asked softly, careful not to press too hard, just enough to let you get it all out.

“Don’t get me wrong—I’m completely in love with him. That’s not the issue. It just hurts seeing him with someone else, even if it’s all for show. I know the whole thing will wrap up in a month, but it’s not like everything magically fixes itself after that,” you confessed, the words spilling out in a rush. “I’ve been sneaking around with Oscar for weeks, lying to everyone but you and Lando. The grid knows the PR relationship is fake, but they don’t know about me and Oscar. And even after the stunt is over, I’ll still have to hide everything. I can’t share photos, go on dates in public, or even hold his hand.”

Daniel’s expression softened as he listened, searching for the right words to comfort you, but nothing seemed quite enough.

You looked over at him, a tear forming in the corner of your eye, threatening to fall. Pressing your lips together, you tried to keep your composure. “It’s just… Oscar and I can’t ever be official. They wouldn’t have started this whole PR stunt if it were okay for us to be together. As much as I love my job, I regret taking it sometimes. If I’d chosen something else, maybe I wouldn’t be in such a difficult position.”

“If you hadn’t taken the job, you and Oscar might never have admitted your feelings in the first place,” Daniel pointed out gently, turning on his side to face you. “And they only started the PR thing because you two hooked up at that nightclub. It would’ve looked unprofessional if it was just a one-time thing. But it’s not; you love each other. Honestly, I don’t think anyone would be against you and Oscar being together. You two are practically made for each other.”

“I don’t know… it’s just so complicated, and there are so many ‘what ifs,��” you replied, more to convince yourself than anyone else. “Besides, we don’t even know if things would work out if we made it official. What if it all falls apart?”

“You need to talk to him,” Daniel urged. “Tell him how you feel about this. Don't give up on something magical. Don’t break things off just because it seems complicated. All paths lead to Rome, little Norris.”

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊ ⁺⋆⁺

After your conversation with Daniel, you’d finally made up your mind. You were done hiding, done sneaking around in the shadows. You wanted to be with Oscar—fully, openly, without pretense. The decision had settled inside you with a reassuring certainty, and today was the day you’d tell him. The plan seemed clear: head to his driver’s room after qualifying, catch him before he left for the hotel, and let him know how you felt.

Heart pounding with nervous excitement, you navigated the bustling hallways, each step drawing you closer to Oscar. You could still hear the faint echoes of post-qualifying chatter and laughter from nearby rooms, mechanics and drivers cooling off from the adrenaline. Reaching Oscar’s door, you lifted your hand to knock—only to notice that the door was slightly ajar, just enough to offer a sliver of the room within.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you leaned closer, peering through the narrow opening. There he was—Oscar, standing close to Ava, his hands resting gently on her hips. Her slender arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. Your breath hitched, freezing you in place as the scene unfolded. For a moment, your mind scrambled, searching for any explanation. But as her lips pressed deeper against his and their kiss grew more intimate, the truth hit hard and fast.

You tried to look away, tried to step back, but it was like your feet were cemented to the floor, your heart dropping with every second that passed. Silent tears began to slip down your cheeks as you watched. Oscar still hadn’t noticed you—but Ava’s gaze flicked briefly in your direction, a glint of awareness in her eyes. She saw you there, knew you were watching, and her hand moved up to cradle the back of Oscar’s neck, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, almost as if she were putting on a show.

The shock held you captive for a moment longer, but the pain soon snapped you free. Stumbling back, you turned on your heel and hurried down the corridor, every step growing faster until you were practically running. The people passing by shot you curious glances, but you couldn’t care less. You just needed to get away, far from the image now seared into your mind.

Blinking back more tears, you found yourself searching for the one person who might understand. You spotted Lando in the paddock, looking relaxed as he chatted with a couple of engineers. Noticing your approach, his smile faded, concern flashing across his face.

You came to a stop in front of him, breathless and barely holding back the sob that threatened to spill. “Lando…” you choked out, struggling to keep your voice steady.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” His expression turned serious, his voice gentle as he pulled you into a hug.

You swallowed hard, the words coming out in fragments, voice as soft as a whisper. “I thought… I thought he was mine, but… he was with her. I saw them… kissing.”

The realization dawned in Lando’s eyes as he pulled away from the hug, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You didn’t need to say much more; he understood. With a quiet nod, he guided you away from the bustling paddock, giving you the space to let the tears flow freely.

"I am going to kill the asshole.." he mumbled, the anger in his tone evident.

⁺⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⁺⋆ ☾⋆₊ ⁺⋆⁺

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Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28 @il0vereadingstuff @silentreader128 @edixttor @sugakookie132

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Good/Complicated Mom Deirta

This week, we've got ten fics that feature a Deirta Thelyss as either a good - or at least complicated mother. Check them out underneath the cut, and comment and kudos if you like them!

What Luminous Worlds Await by essektheyless (divinationwizard) (178674, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

After a thousand years of sleep, the Luxon's Champion reawakens to a changed Exandria. The memory of Caleb is ever present, the soul of his mother is tucked in the beacon he carries, and Leylas' madness is tumbling the world toward war again.

Reccer says: The second person narrative gives this such an immediacy! This fic makes me wish I could temporarily forget everything I know about CR so I could try reading it completely fresh; I think it would hold up and be a very cool way to be introduced to the world.

some things time can't fix by Chrome (25930, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek is arrested for treason. The Dynasty severs the daemons of prisoners before executing them so they can’t be reborn.

Reccer says: great hurt comfort and an AU, but also a nice depiction of a caring Deirta

Lay Your Bones by LadyOrpheus (53578, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Thinking only of justice and restoring his family's honor after Essek's betrayal, Verin Thelyss finds something he never expected, an Essek he never expected. A mission for justice turns into a race against time and a family finds their world upended.

Reccer says: I love how complicated Deirta is in this fic - that she's bound by her station but still finding ways to act on Essek's behalf

Not the Needle, Nor the Thread by Operafloozy (2149, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Consecuted Deirta is forced to live with her son from another life, it's Essek, things are complicated.

Reccer says: It's part of a series and I loved the series so much, this installment really focusses on Deirta and Essek and also the hurt they caused eachother and how to continue on now that they are both different people.

(and) i'll come running if you call by vagabondfirelily (6489, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

Essek goes to Bazzoxan to save Verin. Doing that, he runs into his mother.

Reccer says: It is so bittersweet and so realistic. A very good portray of a complicated relationship between two very similar people. And Verin is there!

until it doesn't hurt by breitweisergallery (3.8k, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

5 times Deirta sends to her sons and one time they send to her

Reccer says: I liked it!

When Broken Shells Make Christmas Bells by LuckyOwlsFoot (12348, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Rape/Non-con, Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent, Non-consensual arranged marriage, threats of rape (nothing explicitly happens)

Essek gets forced into an arranged marriage to avoid execution and Caleb rescues him at the altar.

Reccer says: Lots of Essek angst and comfort and support from Deirta and Verin

a star in your sunset by Laeveteinn (2200, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Discussion or implications of a suicide attempt

When I find you at the foot of the stairs, my first thought is that a stranger is wearing my son’s face, because there is a standing call for Essek Thelyss's arrest the moment he is seen this side of the Ashkeepers.

Reccer says: It's from Deirta's point of view - which feels rare, and the way that the author shows how well Deirta actually knows and loves Essek - how much we can figure out about Essek's emotional state and probable motives - is amazing, especially with how little is said.

And then we have multiple recs for these last two fics!

And After the Scripture (Your Mother Beside Me) by SaltCore (9531, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death

Essek is so very loved - so much so, that when he dies, his mother enlists the Nein to smuggle him out of Rosohna so that he may live again.

Reccer 1 says: What isn't there to like? Deirta gets explored as a mother, as a leader, and as a person. The Drow society gets examined and sketched out, painted with a history that reaches back before the Calamity. We get to see more of the Thelyss family, and we see the respect that these strangers give to the Nein solely based on the fact that Essek loved them. The interactions Deirta have with the Nein (mostly Caleb) highlight how shrewd and savvy she is, completely zooms in on what it must be like to be an Umavi, even from the Nein's POV. It's such a stunning story, both in craft and content! Reccer 2 says: the characterization in this fic is incredible. for a character who never appears on screen, deirta has a real tendency to haunt the narrative for a lot of shadowgast writers. the version of her who appears here is a completely convincing—and heartbreaking—portrayal of both one of the most powerful people in the dynasty and someone who is fundamentally essek's mother in spite of that. it makes me cry every time i read it, in the best possible way. mind the warnings—but even as someone who has a hard time with major character death fics, this one is completely worth the read. Reccer 3 says: Genuinely my favorite depiction of Deirta Thelyss I’ve seen. Incredibly complicated but so clearly loves her children in a way that makes sense for a woman that old.

Starburst Hearts by kaeda (4805, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Told from Deirta’s pov. A meeting between mother and son while Essek has been on the run.

Reccer 1 says: One of my favorite characterizations for Deirta as a complicated person who loves her son but struggles to show it and doesn’t understand him well. Also a lovely outsider’s perspective on the dynamic of the Mighty Nein as well as Caleb/Essek. Reccer 2 says: It's so wonderfully bittersweet! Also the outsider perspective on the rest of the Nein is very funny

Want more fics with Deirta? Check out our reclist themed with featuring another Thelyss!

This is one of our weekly communally-generated shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. 

And hey, anyone includes you, if you're so inclined!

Next week, we'll be featuring fics with Astrid and/or Eadwulf in them. Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

[mizuki-foreshadowing]

Kamiyama High Festival, Episodes 6 & 7

Feeling hurt from the two students from earlier, Mizuki retreats to the rooftop, an old habit. There she sees Rui. Their middle school days were defined by these lonely impromptu hangouts. Rui knew Mizuki before she became Mizuki, and he had been the one to help her back then.

We learn that the context of the flashback to Mizuki and Rui with Mizuki in the boys uniform, is that it's the first time the two had met.

Their first introduction is very worth delving into. Rui introduces himself and asks Mizuki's name. She refuses to give it, but Rui already knew it. He says the reason he asked anyway was to hear what Mizuki would say. Under the reading that Mizuki is a closetted trans girl, this interaction makes perfect sense; Rui picked up on Mizuki's self-loathing and wanted to be considerate and kind to a fellow loner. It was an invitation for Mizuki to give him her real name [Mizuki].

Likewise, the metacontext is that Colorful Palette wants to be kind and considerate to people like Mizuki; they're telling her story in a sincere way. The first and easiest way they do this, made even easier by Japanese grammar, is to not refer to her with a masculine pronoun. Japanese allows the omission of a pronoun if it's clear from context, which combines well with the depth that can be conveyed with [name]-honorific, as well as simply using either the first or the last name. Akito, for instance, who's heard the rumors about Mizuki, exclusively calls her Akiyama in this event story.

It's a little harder to do this in English, which requires a subject for its sentences, and only really offers the use of first name or a pronoun. In English, students who know Mizuki's secret, at worst, refer to her in the text of the game with 'they'. The dialogue of N25 members, at least from what I've seen, is careful to only use 'Mizuki' or some other wording to refer to Mizuki. (as a trans woman, I'm very sensitive to when 'they' is used for us) They don't know her secret after all, and would otherwise use 'she'.

A more difficult way than pronoun usage, for the team to be respectful of Mizuki and players who they want to reach out to with her story, is to not deadname her. If they ever gave a birth name for her, it could be used by hurtful fans as a more correct way to refer to her, doing only harm. Rui and Mizuki's introduction is meant to be read as Rui asking for a different name from Mizuki. She refuses to give any name. This would otherwise signal the conversation as being over, so Rui skips the introduction for her, saying he already knows her name.

Is this all enough evidence to support that 'Mizuki' when used in flashbacks of her in a boys uniform is a way to respectfully censor out her deadname? Maybe, but there is one more piece of evidence, in the next episode. Episode 7 opens with a timeskipped flashback. Mizuki and Rui have been having their loner hangouts on the school roof for a while now.

It's not something I can capture in a screenshot, but Rui refers to Mizuki in this line with "Mizuki-kun". This is clearly still Mizuki before she transitioned, and she's still just as icy and bitter in the way that she talks as she'd been in Episode 6. But more than that, [I checked and] Mizuki is an unambiguously feminine name. It means 'hope', and the only suggested spelling for it is with the kanji that Mizuki's name officially uses. Conversely, -kun is typically reserved for a male addressee. While Rui also uses -kun for Emu and other members of the cast younger than him as part of how he talks, he no longer uses -kun for Mizuki. At the end of Episode 5 and all throughout Episodes 6 and 7, Rui in the present uses just Mizuki to address her, which acts to respect her in the same way friends avoid using 'dude' or 'guys' when addressing a trans girl. Rui using -kun in the flashback may reflect that the name in-universe it's spoken with was not actually 'Mizuki' and that we the players read it as 'Mizuki' as part of the writers respecting her character.

This is the Mizuki who Mizuki talks about when she tells people about how she used to feel confined by people's expectations, always wondering how much she should change herself not to inconvenience those around her. That Mizuki can't understand why Rui refuses to act more normal and try to fit in, even as herself doing so is the source of her own misery.

Rui's response is there are many things that are very much worth finding in solidude. Among them, Mizuki herself, with the silent hope that Rui is also that for Mizuki.

Mizuki understanding that getting rejected by the other people around her isn't the end of the world, and that she can still find meaning even if she does so alone, is the first step toward the person she'll become, of somebody who does things her way and is so much happier for it.

[sammyluvr]

sweet smile — sam winchester

cw : fluff, gn!reader, detective!reader, transfem!sam, barely any dialogue, mentions of death/violence, not proofread, also definitely not my best writing but that's okay, no y/n, 1.9K words. requested !

summary : it's almost startling how quickly you develop a small crush on the most gorgeous fbi agent you've ever seen when she comes in to help solve your case.

on nearly any occasion, sam stays out of the local police stations during cases as much as she can. and usually, with her pantsuit and fake fbi badge, the police are as glad to see her go as she is to leave. but sitting next to you and your meticulously constructed evidence board, she doesn’t mind spending extra time here.

you’re the lead detective on this case, and sam finds you both sweet, cute, and clearly very intelligent. sam’s pretty sure that she and dean are dealing with a wraith this time around, but even without the knowledge of the supernatural, you’ve managed to compile an impressive amount of evidence and string it together in a way that actually makes sense. she thinks that this might be the first time that normal detective work might actually lead her and dean straight to the killer.

so, sam sent dean off to go check out one of the crime scenes while she stays here, listening intently as you carefully explain each and every detail of your evidence board. she can tell that you’ve gathered enough information to actually start seeking out suspects. of course, you’re still unable to fully explain the cause of death, but otherwise, sam can’t help but be highly impressed with your work.

not only does she get extra help in searching for official suspects—you’ve cleared her a spot on your desk across from your own seat and offered your help doing research—but she’s also blessed with the pleasant sight and sounds of you explaining everything to her. you’re rather endearing as you talk, and the blinds in the office are open wide, letting the mid-morning sunlight cast a bright line along your profile each time your head tilts to a certain angle.

she gives you a sweet smile when you're done explaining. any other day, with any other person, she’d give a kind, polite smile. there’s a difference. and, of course, you wouldn’t know that, but the smile sends your heart racing anyway.

“thank you, detective,” she says, sincere and unrushed. now that you’ve given her all the information that you have, she doesn’t need to stay any longer. but she wants to take you up on your offer. she wants to sit right across from you on your small desk and whatever excuse she can get to keep watching the way your fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt or hear your impassioned voice as you do everything you can to be sure that the victim’s families receive closure and justice.

“of croup se,” you smile back, hoping that you at least look like your composure remains intact. internally, you’re undeniably freaking out about how absolutely gorgeous she is. “thank you for making the trip over to help us out with this case. i really can’t help but feel like we’re missing something big. this cause of death is driving me crazy.” 

normally, you hate the feds. but she’s so pretty and sincere that you can’t do anything but love the fact that she’s here. and she smiles at you in the most lovely way that it makes your cheeks heat up.

“just doing our job,” she says. her smile isn’t quite as life-threatening this time—your heart only skips a beat or two—but she says those words like she’s less concerned about the job part than the part where she’s helping you out. from the way her partner acted early, it seems like they don’t really spend all that much time with the local police on cases. which means she’s staying longer than necessary, for one reason or another. and she says that she’s just doing her job when her job doesn’t require her to be here and looking at you like you’re the reason. it almost feels like she’s flirting. you might go into cardiac arrest if that’s the case.

you tell yourself that she’s too beautiful to be staying behind just for you. then she grabs the chair from you that you picked for her so that you don’t have to carry it any longer than necessary. and then when she sits across from you and her long legs keep brushing against yours in the cramped space, she looks up from her computer with a pretty, bashful smile and a sweet, murmured apology.

making eye contact with her is like that tiny, pleased, and slightly childish rush one gets when quickly running a finger through a candle’s flame. it’s simple, not some overwhelming surge of exhilarating adrenaline, but you find this to be just as effective in making you feel something for her. it’s softer, like the melting of wax and slight singe on a fingertip. it’s unwise to keep putting skin to flame, even for a split moment, but her gaze doesn’t burn, you just know it. it’s too kind and well-meaning, so you figure it isn’t fire, but something akin. some sort of warmth and light that couldn’t possibly do any harm. you’ll keep locking eyes with her because everything about her feels safe and pure.

her presence is a lovely contrast to the gore and death and confusion of this case. funny, she’s been thinking the same about you. neither of you are unused to violence or dead bodies, but a pretty face to ease the eyes never hurts.

it’s a bit hard to concentrate with her right there, but you make do. there’s enough motivation in being some sort of help to her. 

the shadows cast by the open blinds shift as the sun rises to its noontime peak in the sky. it’s one p.m. before you know it, then you’re hungry and most definitely distracted by her pretty face.

you softly shut your laptop to subtly grab her attention, your gaze already waiting for hers when she looks up. your lips quirk up into a light smile, tired of frowning at police records and endless files and reports. there must be something in the air today, because the moment you have her attention, you rest your chin on your palm and manage not to break eye contact as you speak.

“i’m hungry,” you say simply, “we should catch lunch and a break.”

sam feels guilty. you look at her with this soft sort of hope, as if it would make a difference in your day to spend more time with her. there’s not really any expectation along with that hope and sweetness, like even just being friendly with each other while she’s in town is perfectly nice enough for you.

but sam knows that being around her any more than that could never be good for you. you’re looking to her for a sense of reprieve within all this death and stress of the case. she understands; she’d love to have lunch with you, preferably somewhere outside the precinct so that it can feel a little more personal. it’s just that she’s convinced that she most certainly isn’t any sort of real respite. sure, she smiles at you when she thinks you’re being cute, but her presence here represents a worse, more violent, and darker truth about your case, about the world that she hopes you never come to know of.

and yet, the look in your eyes is enough to persuade her that lunch can’t do any harm.

“that sounds like a good idea,” she smiles. she should be allowed to push down that constant guilt every once and a while, right? she hopes you suggest eating somewhere else.

you have to keep your smile from growing too wide. you hope it’s not too much to suggest eating somewhere else. “there’s a great cafe down the street, as long as you’re okay with the city’s best sandwiches.”

sam thinks it’s quite adorable the way that you come across shy and forward all at once. you look bashful while you speak, but are playful and simple without stumbling over your words. it gives her confidence, lets her wonder if flirting with you would make your cheeks heat up.

“i definitely won’t say no to the city’s best sandwiches with the city’s best detective,” she says, closing her own laptop. it was a bit of a fight to maintain eye contact throughout the whole line; her felt confidence doesn’t really remedy her inherent awkwardness. but she made it through her little quip and indeed, she’s pretty sure that she’s succeeded in making you a bit flustered.

“you flatter me,” you refute after a moment, trying to sound cool, but laughing awkwardly. if you weren’t lost in her damn gorgeous eyes, you’d cringe at yourself. she just finds it endearing.

“i’m serious,” she says, and the way her voice turns all sincere proves just that, “you’ve done some really great detective work. half the time when we show up, the police have almost nothing to go off of. usually it’s not their fault, but most places i’ve seen would have been about ten times more clueless than you are.”

heat rises up your neck, but you can’t help but feel proud to hear it. she sounds far too sincere to just be flirting. “thank you,” you murmur, smiling softly.

she pulls on the brown knee-length overcoat that she wore when she first came in, and you’d probably start drooling over how good she looks in it if you stared a second longer. so you pull on your own jacket and walk into the crisp november air with her.

the walk is short, just across the street and a few businesses down to the right. even so, you think you’d like to keep walking with her, maybe do this sometime again. it feels like wishful thinking, but maybe you’ll have another chance before she goes. it’s startlingly easy to imagine holding her hand or sharing an umbrella or fixing her scarf. she’s not even wearing one, but you know she’d look all soft and cozy if she did.

in the cafe, she orders a coffee that sounds nice and a simple caprese sandwich. tomatoes aren’t really any good at this time of year, but when her eyes skim the menu, they skip over the options with meats and you wonder if she’s vegetarian or if she just prefers not to eat deli meats.

when you sit, you call her agent, and she says to just call her sam. it rolls off your tongue so nicely, makes your cheeks feel a little warm. you insist that, if that’s the case, she’d better call you by your first name as well. when she does, you nearly choke on your hot drink. if you weren’t aware of this little workplace crush on her, you’d think you’re beginning to develop a fever.

sitting and talking with her, sharing looks out the window to people watch or sharing looks to secretly think of how pretty the other is, and wasting time to avoid going back is all soft and sweet with her. considering your nerves, it’s much easier than expected, too.

unfortunately, you can’t dawdle forever. she walks back with you, but doesn’t sit. instead, she gathers her things and tells you with a regretful smile that she has to meet back up with her partner to continue on their end of the investigation. you don’t show it too much, smiling back and nodding in understanding, but you’re certainly sad to see her go.

maybe she’ll be back.

[eschergirls]

November 2024 Escher Girls Updates & Patreon Thank You!

Hi everybody!  It's November, so it's time for a monthly update and to thank all our wonderful Patreon subscribers!

For a quick update about Tumblr, if you've been following the blog you probably noticed that in late September/early October, the Escher Girls Tumblr ran into the infamous "shadowban" bug, which is not actually a shadowban but just a bug that happens to random blogs on Tumblr (more info here). After bugging Tumblr about it a few times, they finally fixed it, which means everything is back to normal and I can send and receive DMs and messages as normal on Tumblr (just in time for the Caption Contest which was handy for giving out prizes to the winners!)

I appreciate everybody who helped me figure it out and especially @haveievermentioned who messaged me to let me know that they weren't getting updates from the EG Tumblr! In the future if you run into any issues with Tumblr or the main site, please don't hesitate to let me know!

Also, if you missed it last month, I've been fixing up the main site and I updated the submission guidelines and also the submission form which now lets you choose a name to submit with and also let me know if it's okay for me to reply to your email address if I need more info about your submission. The new and improved form can be found here: https://eschergirls.com/form/submit-content

And, all new posts on EscherGirls.com now link to the corresponding Tumblr post so site users can easily navigate to the Tumblr cross-post and see what Tumblr users are saying. And when I fix up old posts, I'm now fixing up the Tumblr version as well and adding a cross-post link. It's twice the work but given that many people still view the site on Tumblr, I figure it's worth it to everybody. :3 There are some posts without a Tumblr cross-post link because the Tumblr post has been deleted/hidden because of Tumblr's mercurial algorithmic flagging which can't tell the difference between stuff like a coloured body suit and nudity.

As usual I've spent a lot of time this month working on fixing up old posts, restoring broken images or finding higher res versions of old images, and fixing broken links, etc, also fixing all the formatting of older posts and finding sources.

Here are some of the posts I fixed up this month (for any that want to check them out, the links to the Tumblr versions are included in every post):

This "How To Draw" book depicting women's waists as a ball joint (which explains a lot about why artists think women can just swivel around like rotor blades), and an associated post with that infamous Jennifer Blood cover

The infamous "muscleboobs" how to draw page depicting women's breasts as muscles 

Two different Soul Calibur posts: one with Talim in a boobs and butt pose (and a redraw fix of it), and another with Xianghua, Talim and Ivy in various states of rubberization

Black Canary described by my friend as a miracle of modern plumbing

War Goddess giving up War Goddess-ing and instead going into the butt-selling business

The infamous Glory/Avengelyne cover (the first time I posted Liefeld on this blog after the first 800 posts without him to prove a point that it wasn't just him putting out the insectoid women art) and an associated post

And a caption contest with Avengelyne and Ravyn in pretty hilarious poses and also the winners of that contest

And now I want to give a big thank you to Escher Girls' Patreon subscribers for October!

Thank you so so much to:

Anne Adler Cat Mara Chris McKenzie Em Bardon First Time Trek Greg Sepelak Ken Trosaurus Kevin Carson Kim Wincen Kristoffer Illern  Holmén Leak  Manuel Dalton Mary Kuhner Max Schwarz Michael Mazur Miriam Pody Morgan McEvoy randomisedmongoose Rebecca Breu Ringoko  Ryan Gerber Sam Mikes Sean Sea SpecialRandomCast  Thomas 

And a very very special thank you to JohnnyBob8 for buying me a coffee on Ko-Fi!!!

Thank you so much for helping to keep the site running! The Tumblr technical issues and algorithmic flagging are reasons why Escher Girls has a dedicated self-hosted site, and why I appreciate the support on Patreon and Ko-Fi so much as it helps me pay for hosting, domain costs, and site upgrades and keep the site running.

And thank you to just everybody, all of you interacting with the blog on both Tumblr and on the main site, and who participate in caption contests, and submit things to me, or just generally send me kind words. Thank you all! You make running the site so worth it. :)

Ami

PS: As a reminder, we added a button that links to the Escher Girls Tumblr and to our RSS feed for those who want to follow that way. (For newbies, RSS stands for Really Simple Syndication and is basically a feed you can read using an RSS reader. Simply copy and paste https://eschergirls.com/rss.xml into an RSS reader and it will keep you up to date on Escher Girls!)

Make sure it is eschergirls.com and not eschergirls.tumblr.com, as that is Tumblr, and not the self-hosted site.

If you have any issues with the site or suggestions to improve it, please do not hesitate to contact me and let me know!

If you wish to support Escher Girls, you can subscribe to our Patreon at: https://www.patreon.com/ami_angelwings or donate through Ko-Fi at: https://ko-fi.com/amiangelwings.

[spotaus]

Okay. So Killer (New Age) lore post! Putting it immediately under the cut, because I get the feeling this will be longer-

Killer! He's the first one Nightmare takes in! He's the 'Average' one. The silver-tongued common street rat, literally snatched away from the gallows. He's obnoxiously loyal.

His story is going to be (hopefully) loosely based on his canon, but still follow a lot of the New Age conventions.

So, Killer was a straight up orphan. Like, abandoned as a babybones on the steps of a temple. Temples would often double as orphanages, if you dropped a kid at the right one. (Killer had a malformed soul from birth. Didn't affect him at all, just looked weird.) So Killer? He was raised religious, basically. Worshipping the deity which was most prominent at the time (which for this era, Nim was largely the one being worshipped as though a god. Like Rome worshipping the Emperor), a very strict environment, a very lonely one as there weren't many other kids, and a fairly violent upbringing. The people there were Not proper caretakers. But it was all Killer had, and running away never crossed his mind, because beyond the market, there was nothing for him that the temple couldn't give. At least, that's what he was taught. Until, of course, he met Chara (just going by the normal ut name tho I do think they're called the Player in Something New?). (Note: Killer had a different name before he left the temple.)

Killer was only 11 or 12 (he didn't really keep track) when Chara started coming with their parents to the Temple. Their parents would ditch them to talk to the adults, and Chara would try to find other things to do, to get out of their parents sight, and one day they spotted the Orphans. Killer in particular (the oldest) was their target, about their same age. And they would talk to him. At first he was hesitant, but, you know how it goes, kids are kids and they'll talk.

And over the course of several visits, Chara told Killer about the outside world. All the places and the animals (Killer told Chara that the sacrafices were all animals, very unique) and the ocean, they told him about the mountains and the towns and ships and the guard and all of it. And it got to Killer. He started wanting to go beyond the walls of the temple (he always had, but never had reason to understand that urge).

One night, Chara showed up at the temple grounds after dark, while Killer was doing his final cleaning checks, and they encouraged him to leave. to run away with them. And... well, he did. He stole a cloak from the doorway and ran off with Chara. While they were on the run, Chara from their parents and Killer from his temple, they had to do what all street-rats did. Steal, cheat, and protect themselves. Killer was the first of them to kill. it wasn't much different from sacrificing the animals on the altar, anyhow. It was just another way to get what he wanted, since the god, Nim, never had any answers to his prayers. The person he killed had recognized his name, other sects were after him now that he'd run with Chara (unbeknownst to him, Chara was meant to be a sacrifice once they were old enough). He changed his name to the skill he was good at: Killer.

And they stay like that for a long long time, never settling down, always on the move, never leaving the kingdom because doing so would make it easier to find them, two red marbles in a sea of blue ones. And Chara never got their hands dirty. it was always Killer. it was his duty to back-up Chara. he 'owed' them for getting him out of that Temple. Out of that boring life. Chara, in some way, became the center of his world, something beyond his grasp and beyond poor judgement. Beyond the flaws of any living being. And they were fine. They still did normal teenage things, they laughed, they joked, they played, they lied, they got sweet treats and split big loaves of bread. But it wasn't healthy. A parasitic relationship where Chara took and Killer gave, weighed down by an impossible debt to repay.

Then, years and years later, Killer was finally taken down by the guard. Now wanted for several counts of murder, theft, and other bad things, he was caught. This time, unlike several others, instead of breaking out like he normally did, h decided to wait and see. How long would he have to be gone for Chara to seek him out instead? And Chara left him. And left him. And didn't ever come back for him. Gone, fully, 100%. His faith broke, along with his hope. The one thing that motivated him in life had abandoned him, and he couldn't seem to bring himself to do anything anymore, because he had sacrificed all he was and wasn't enough to keep his only friend around.

In prison he talked with other people. Prisoners aren't all bad, you know, especially when they saw Killer, a young guy, looking so downtrodden. Even though he was an objectively horrible person, hearing others try to cheer him up, expecting nothing in return, was helpful.

And then, ofc, when he met Nightmare he decided he could have a ticket out of here. A weird guy who would give him a place to stay, and pay him, and he could just go and then escape like he always did? Go live his own life for the first time ever? Yeah, sounds banger.

But then, you know, he ended up finding Nightmare's situation much too interesting, and Ccino way too handsome, and his gig just a bit too cushy. But he never had blind faith again. Nightmare is unaware, but that fake faith act Killer started with quickly morphed into a faith earned through action, and care, and kindness. Killer saw and felt that Night would be willing to risk himself just as much as Killer would. (Maybe that's why he became so loyal. maybe that's why it's important that Killer came first and set that expectation for the other Knights. Maybe that's why Killer faced off against Dream and almost died, and why Nightmare ran infront of Killer to spare him that final blow and proved exactly why Killer followed him in the firstplace-)

[itneverendshere]

hii! just wanted to drop by this message to say I’m currently obsessed with the series of ‘loved you at your worst’. It has dragged me to pull out all folklore songs again 🥲 I just loooove your writing style and it amazes me how you can redact so amazingly <3 can’t wait for more chapters to see what’s next. Quick curious question: can you give us some more context on how invested was Rafe in the relationship with y/n? I’m curious how their dynamic was when both were stable lol. (I’m sorry if there’s misspelling, English is not my first language hehe).

your english is perfect don't worry, it's not my first language either!

im gonna try to summarize their relationship pre-big break up: rafe was SO obsessed with her, like genuinely all-in on this relationship. when things were good, they were perfect, they just clicked in this undeniable way—emotionally, physically, spiritually, they were just meant to fit. he wasn’t just invested; he was borderline consumed.

but it wasn’t just love, it was also their shared trauma. both of them had been through so much, and that’s partly why they felt so seen by each other. she got him in a way no one else did, and he craved that understanding (that's why shit hit the fan when she didn't coddle him when ward died). when they were stable, he actually put in effort to be open with her (his version of it), and she was his safe place and vise-versa. you’d look at them and think, “they're meant to be" yk??

but when things went wrong...it was a shitshow.

neither of them knew how to communicate their needs properly, so they’d just explode instead.

they’d go on those “breaks,” but they were still obsessing over each other, stalking socials, making each other jealous with a little flirting, just overall trying to be mean and hurtful but also checking in, very much toxic.

if they want any chance at real happiness together, they’re both gonna have to do some serious inner work, “heal your childhood traumas” level of work.

therapy? mandatory.

individual and couples counseling. they’d both need to face all that baggage, which is a LOT, honestly, given their history. 

i know everyone’s mad at rafe for dumping her just because she called out his father—even if she wasn’t wrong—but remember, he was not in his right mind. he was drowning in grief, numbing himself with alcohol, desperate for any sense of validation, so yeah, he filled her space with someone else just to feel needed. it's messy as fuck and desrespectful, but it wasn't a calculated choice.

and here’s the thing: it’s been from reader's POV so far, so we haven’t seen everything. yes, she’s hurting, but she’s not entirely blameless either. there were so many situations she could’ve handled better, and you’ll get to see those moments from a different angle soon.

honestly, both of them need to grow up. while i love my baby reader to pieces, part of why she feels so isolated now is because she put all her energy into rafe and rafe alone. she never took the time to build friendships or let others in, assuming he’d always be there and she’d never need anyone else. so yeah, she’s alone while he still has people around him, but that’s not entirely his fault, either. they both need to work on themselves if they want to heal.

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

> make us look back on our HOF, Hawke, and Inquisitor and see them in the same lens that we see Loghain through

A POINT THAT SOLAS ALLUDED TO THROUGHOUT ALL OF INQUISITION AND HIS FINAL CONVERSATION WITH YOU IN TRESPASSER.

At the start of the game, the very first conversation he has with you in Haven is him remarking that you’re now in the position of being a hero, and he’s “curious” to see what path you will take with his newfound purpose, importance, and power. He tells you he saw the Battle of Ostagar where Cailan died and Loghain retreated. He very POINTEDLY does not pass judgement on Loghain. The lingering feelings imprinted on the Fade regarding Loghain’s decision—necessary sacrifice, betrayal, etc.— are valid to him.

So unknowingly but knowingly you are granted the opportunity for deeper self awareness of your Inquisitor’s role in this adventure as pointed out by Solas. As a third party he is quietly watching you carve out your story. He is positioning himself as that observer, that future archivist who will quietly hold onto that firsthand experience for the rest of his life as history is made (Varric operates similarly here, except Varric is with the written word). It’s an act of loftiness, since he can never help his habit of counseling and advisement (Wisdom personality remnants).

And then the theme of ‘the story of the hero, the mythical legend’ is circled back when you come to realize in Trespasser that Solas was not simply speaking philosophically, but from personal experience.

Veilguard should have been a further deconstruction of this theme of the hero’s story. The concept of Solas, unmasked and prideful and single-minded, has become a corruption of that very force of power he cautioned the Inquisitor against. Solas thinks he’s doing what must be done. He thinks he is the only one who should, can, must do it and that the ends will not absolve him of the casualties he has stacked up along the way, but that they had been sacrificed for a purpose. Their deaths, his betrayals, his loneliness was not for nothing. Mythal’s death was avenged.

But he’s so far gone, he’s so devoted to this path that he is a villain. He knows he’s a villain to others, he recognizes it, but he endeavors so that he remains the last one standing because if he does succeed he will still have done the [right] thing. The Right thing. Right, correct, righteous, justified, moral.

This play with Solas deluding himself as being the Byronic hero saddled with purpose and duty is so very good. And what did they do with it? Nothing so nuanced. Bioware can’t write a Big Bad villain to save their lives. As soon as an antagonist is elevated to Big Bad we lose all capacity for interacting with the villain with any nuance or subtlety. It happened with Corypheus, it happened with the Arishok, it happened here with Solas.

There is no excuse for this lost opportunity because Solas is “in Rook’s head”. There should have been frequent check-ins, frequent conversations, a steady reporte built throughout the game where Rook’s actions in the material world and dialogue choices to Solas either affirmed Solas’s decision to tear down the Veil, didn’t change his stance, or gave him a second of pause/even greater sense of sorrow in having to sacrifice this new almost-friend when the time came (i.e. the Romance/Rivalmance meter in DA2).

They tried to subvert the hero story with Solas’s memories in this game but without the access to Solas to speak about them at length like, I don’t know, a freaking RPG, it’s a weird case where the [Show] was not enough. [Tell] wouldn’t have been good enough on its own, but somehow they made the “here’s the footage of what really happened” as unfulfilling as a half-assed codex entry.

I am in absolute love with the painful tragic nature of how heroism and “go on the adventure, save the day” can in fact cause a different but equal amount of destruction, no matter your intentions and the moral implications of how to contend with and rectify pain and suffering unwillingly and unintentionally inflicted. I am in absolute love with the heart-aching, rueful nature of sunk cost fallacy versus cutting your losses, and when to make that decision, and if it is ever acceptable to do so. I LOVED that Solas was posed as the embodiment of that question. And they just… turned it into jerky. They just shredded it.

Rook isn’t a Dragon Age protagonist. Rook is designed to be a stand-in for people who never played Dragon Age, don’t care about diving deep into the lore, and aren’t interested in the romance mechanics. Rook is designed to be said bland avatar so that non-DA fans (who for some fucking reason decided to pick up and play Dragon Age 4 FIRST) have a pawn to control and navigate through the world in the most superficial and rudimentary manner possible. The way Solas is positioned in this game—which was originally pitched as him being the central antagonist all those years ago,—is evidence of this. Your Rook is deeply unconnected to Solas emotionally, mirroring how disconnected and uninvested a newbie player would be coming into this story blind at the climax of this decade long story. Even non-Solasmancers had a deep connection to Solas, whether as a friend or annoying thorn in their side.

The way that Rook is set up—someone who has no connection to Solas and can thus ‘do what’s necessary because sentiment is not clouding their judgment’—is coincidentally reflected further in the meta in that Rook, you, also end up functioning as having surface-level shallow connection to everything else in the game and world. You exist technically, you interact with it, but the world is rendered so bland, the dialogue so basic and repetitive and uninsightful, the roleplaying so limited, you might as well not truly exist in the Dragon Age world.

For a character so layered and so intriguing, Solas is sidelined and all greater access to him cut off. The golden opportunity to truly give us that Bioware levels of character exploration we saw in Trespasser by having us interact and speak frequently with this ‘Dread Wolf’ Solas—to interrogate him, to converse, debate, question— was never adopted in favor of…I guess flashy combat and pretty set dressings.

Elden Ring pulled off this angle of “late to the party” gimmick because Elden Ring did the heavy lifting of jamming several games’ worth of history and world-building into it. Veilguard plays both sides: “Eh, you’re a returning player so we’re not gonna go into much detail. You know how it is.” and “Eh, you’re a new player. Don’t sweat yourself on the actual in-depth history and nature of things established by the prior media. We know you’ve rotted your brain with a pure diet of MCU and tiktoks for at least a decade, so we’ve gone and removed the thoughtful nuanced spices and unique properties of the story so you can dive right in to the generic fantasy action rpg moba-like slop’.

Rook is the least real protagonist I have ever encountered in a supposed RP-heavy RPG. There are faceless boys in harem anime with more personality and weight and presence in their worlds than Rook.

[gothic-mothic]

*look at Swap!Stanley* Boy, you ugly! Mandala Catalogue looking ass. 😑😑😑

He will fool the protagonist

Or something

[spaghett-onaplate]

depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 6!!!

[seenthisepisode]

~~~

[duskerot]

Hey… Do you know the song sung by the voice actor from the pilot Hazbin Hotel? Called Thank you and goodnight. Weirdly this song reminds me of Mystic Messenger, despite being a new fan and having been into this game until this year 2024 I already felt a connection, seeing old posts about this game from an old fan somehow makes me tear up. Despite I'm a fan of 2024, I somehow feel nostalgic about this game despite never actually experience it before

i don't actually, i've never seen hazbin :0 i just looked up the lyrics tho and i see what you mean!

absolutely no shame being a "new" fan, actually i'm really happy to hear new people are finding the game in 2024 !! i first downloaded it in 2016 and only recently redownloaded it last year for the nostalgia actually :') it's silly but this game and others by the same devs actually mean a lot to me lol