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John William Waterhouse, Gather Ye Rosebud While Ye May (details)

1909

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In love with pretty stained glass designs🪻༉‧₊˚. ‧࿔

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First thing you see after you zoom in is how you die

How you dying 👀

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She Sleeps, He Races, and the Internet Falls in Love

Charles races on Twitch while Y/N naps in his lap—one forehead kiss sends the chat spiraling into romance-core chaos.

Disclaimer: This is a fictional story created purely for entertainment and imaginative purposes.

Charles Leclerc is live on Twitch.

The chat’s buzzing. The screen shows the iconic F1 track layout. Charles, laser-focused, hands gripping the controller, brows slightly furrowed.

But in his lap—her face is not fully visible—is Y/N.

She's wrapped in a plush, pastel blanket with tiny embroidered race cars and little stitched strawberries. She's curled up on his lap, arms tucked around his waist like muscle memory, head nestled into the crook of his neck. Her breath is soft against his skin, and her feet are peeking out from beneath the blanket.

The chat catches on.

“WAIT IS SOMEONE ON HIS LAP???” “Charles blink twice if you’re holding a human burrito.” “What is that blanket, and where do I buy one???”

Charles glances at the comments and chuckles quietly.

“Ah—yeah. She’s asleep,” he says, nudging the mic aside. “This is her racing blanket. She made it.” His voice dips instinctively softer, protective. “It’s got little strawberries because they’re her favorite. She’s the creative one.”

Then someone in chat notices the forehead kiss.

Charles botched a corner—too wide, lost grip. The game penalized him. Instinctively, Charles leaned back, pressing a quiet kiss to the top of Y/N’s head, murmuring a “désolé” under his breath like she could sense his mistake in her dreams.

The chat breaks.

“HE KISSED HER HEAD BECAUSE HE MISSED A TURN I’M GOING TO CRY” “THIS IS THE SOFTEST FERRARI CONTENT SINCE HE FED THE BIRDS IN MONACO” “Charles Leclerc winning boyfriend of the year and it’s not even close.”

Then he nails a sector. Fastest lap.

His fist pumps silently. He smiles and whispers, “C’est pour toi,” to the girl on his lap who’s still sound asleep.

At one point, Y/N stirs gently—he pauses mid-turn, shifts just enough to help her resettle, adjusts the blanket around her shoulders, and whispers, “Sleep, mon ange. You’re safe.”

She murmurs something unintelligible and presses her cheek tighter into his neck.

And every viewer watching? Emotionally obliterated.

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Alan Lee - Castle Chariot

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Werden, Germany 1920s

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britpop’s angels 🪽

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Ballet Barbies 🩰🩷🦢

Barbie as Odette from Swan Lake and Genevieve from The 12 Dancing Princesses!

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Scream Queens 1.12 | Dorkus

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happy birthday ray toro guitarist of all time. i bought a piping bag for this.

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sound off everyone what’s the worst texture. just in anything. for me it’s ground beef not even a question

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The funniest part of the “ummmm actually ☝️🤓 birth control can be REALLY bad for you” responses on my ‘hey I think the current health fad demonization of hormonal birth control is right wing propaganda’ post is that I can’t take hormonal birth control. It reacts badly with my body’s chemistry. But I am wise enough to understand that it is a lifesaving medication for many people and encouraging people to get off birth control if it is working for them with no adverse reactions is bad. Birth control is bad for me and it can have terrible side effects but the potential of pregnancy and periods are worse for many people.

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a warm cup of tea 🍵

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Did jk rowling have even one unique thought or was literally everything lifted from Tolkien