#but i want this on my page so i always get to look at it

[coco-loco-nut]

Iconic

pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

summary: you make it your life goal to embarrass Oscar and annoy him, keeping things fun in his life

masterlist

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“He’s so cute,” a girl sighs in the McLaren fan zone.

“He really is,” you smile, leaning against the barrier.

“Oh my god, hi!” the girl gasps, recognizing you from your boyfriend’s Instagram. You haven’t had social media since you were cyber bullied in middle school, so you were a mystery to his fans. It also let you go to fan zone and have fun with them. You also run a fan page for Oscar on Instagram.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind that I am standing here?” you say, holding a folded poster in one of your hand and an arm full of friendship bracelets that Oscar helped you make.

“Not at all, oh my god. Sorry, it’s just that you are so iconic,” the girl says and you quirk your eyebrow.

“How so?”

“You don’t have social media which is iconic, but all the fans know how nice you are, and you are always hanging out with us here,” one of her friends say, you nod along.

“Of course I would be here, I gotta support Papaya boys,” you smile. “Wanna help me embarrass Osc?” you ask the group around you.

“It would legit be our honor,” the one laughs, you laugh with her.

“Here,” you take off some friendship bracelets and exchange them with the girls.

“You are the best WAG,” another girl says and you blush a little, dutifully putting on each bracelet.

“I really do try. I even run a fan account for Osc,” you laugh, not revealing more than that.

“No way, that’s actually icon behavior,” the first girl says and you grin.

“Want to see the sign?” you ask, excited to show your latest sign off. Oscar tried to look but you refused to even work on it until he left the hotel.

“Yes!” you are quick to unfold the sign. Your neat handwriting carefully placed each letter just large enough so Oscar could read it.

“Omg, I can’t wait to see his reaction,” one of the fans say, the area is brimming full now, ready for the drivers to come out in a couple minutes.

“Make sure you get pictures of his reaction, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed,” you giggle, getting ready to hold the sign in front of you as Lando walk onto the stage, excited to see what you wrote this time. He reads it and laughs, turning towards where Oscar is entering. You watch his brows furrow as he reads it. Oscar- I want to eat you up like a pastry :). The Australian’s face turns bright red as he laughs and winks at you, trying to hide his awkward embarrassment at the pickup line. It wasn’t your best, but it was the perfect amount of cringe. Lando gives you a thumbs up from the stage.

“You were right, his face was priceless,” the fan says as you watch Oscar push back his mousy brown hair before putting the hat back on. You swear you might be drooling while watching him, but you catch his gaze falling on you too.

“I LOVE YOU OSCAR!” you yell as he waves goodbye to the fans, giving you a wink. You make sure all of your friendship bracelets are given away before thanking the fans for being cool about you chilling with them. You head back to the paddock, scanning your pass, and beelining to the McLaren motorhome.

“Y/n, can I have that sign?” Lando asks and you happily hand it over.

“As long as you don’t use it to steal my man, have at it,” you chuckle as the Brit hugs you in thanks before walking away.

“Eat me like a pastry?” Oscar gives you an amused smile. “You do know my parents watch that, right?” His favorite thing about you his your playfulness, you can be serious when needed, but your teasing and jests keep his life fun.

“Oh, I know, your mom helped me with that one, the fans loved it too,” you laugh. “You did look so hot up there,” you slightly exaggerate checking him out.

“Why don’t we go back to my drivers room and you show me how you’d like to eat me?” Oscar whispers in your ear, trying to seduce you, but you resist.

“Oh, I’d probably start with the thighs, best muscle to fat ratio in my opinion. Hm, now I’m kinda hungry, what is in hospitality?” you ask, moving towards the food area. Oscar wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him as he picks you up to carry you to his room.

“Nope, don’t start things you can’t finish,” he says, clearly a little hot and bothered.

“Osc, I’m not a cannibal, I don’t actually eat humans,” you tease, not giving up on what you started. Oscar clearly had a different interpretation, maybe the right one, maybe not.

“Shut up before I make you shut up,” Oscar growls in your ear, quickly turning you on and making you drop the joke.

“Yes, Mister Piastri,” you say, knowing it’s affect on him as he drags you into his room, locking the door behind him. Oscar was a couple minutes late to his meeting, Lando holding back giggles as Oscar walks into the room.

“I see the fans aren’t the only ones who love Y/n,” Lando whispers to Oscar, who shoots him a glare. Meanwhile, you scroll Instagram using your fan page, laughing as some of them post the pic of you and the sign, the comments calling on your to reveal yourself via the fan page. You make a post about it as well just to blend in, thirsting over Oscar as well. You can’t imagine if he ever finds out about the account.

“Good luck, Osc. Drive safe,” you kiss him before he puts his helmet on.

“I am always safe,” he gives you his usual awkward smile, you smile back as he puts his helmet on. He squeezes your hand before walking over to the car. You take a seat in the garage, the headphones unflattering as always.

Your stomach drops as there is a crash late in the race, but you are instantly relieved when you realize that Oscar made in through and no one was hurt. He ends up in P2 for the race and you join the team in celebrating at the podium.

“Thank you for being my number one fan, even when you run a secret fan account,” Oscar hugs you in his drivers room.

“How? What?” you play if off but he just laughs, pulling out his phone.

“My private account follows you,” oscar laughs, and you just stare at him.

“That’s actually you? I thought it was a fan,” you quickly pull out your phone and request to follow his account, which he immediately accepts so that you can see all the cute posts he makes about you.

“Stop, Osc, you’re basically running a fan account for me,” you say, admiring his posts, including one from today of you holding the sign. You quickly type a comment that has the other drivers replying like crazy claiming that they found your secret account.

“You two decent?” Mark Weber’s voice says through the door, after a confirmation from Oscar, he lets himself in.

“Why wouldn’t we be decent, Mark?” you ask from the couch.

“I used to be a driver too, and after your fan zone sign nothing is off the table,” Mark shrugs causing you and Oscar to blush. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you great race, I will see you in a few days,” Mark tells Oscar before leaving the room again. You still aren’t sure how Oscar was able to bag the former F1 driver as his manager. Oscar yawns and you notice how tired he is, sleepy Oscar is your favorite version of Oscar.

“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel, first loser,” you tease, helping him gather his things to leave.

“Hey,” he groans at the jab.

“You could be Lando NoWins, my love,” turning your jests onto his teammate.

“That is true,” Oscar yawns, holding your hand as he leads you to his chauffeured car.

“Osc, would you marry me if I was a worm?”

“Who said I’d marry you at all?”

“Alright, that’s it, I’m deleting your fan page,” you pull out your phone. Oscar basically tackles you in the back seat as he lunges for the phone.

“I take it back, I’ll marry you right now if you want,” Oscar pleads.

“Who said I wanted to marry you? Do I look like a worm?” you retort, putting your phone away. Oscar just sighs in defeat.

“God gives is strongest people his greatest challenges, I’m not strong enough for this,” he groans a few seconds later, the tiredness setting in.

“Sorry, baby, I promise you will get unlimited cuddles when we get back to the room,” you smile softly, holding his hand tight.

“I love you,” he whispers, his beautiful brown eyes gazing into your eyes.

“I love you too.”

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris #unhinged behavior

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 60 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your bachelorette outing and Bradley's bachelor party are both hosted by the same person, but they couldn't be more different. Spending an evening at home with Noah is reminiscent of your babysitting days, but now he's asking you some pertinent questions.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, drinking, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Natasha was outside in her SUV on the driveway, ready to pick you up for your bachelorette outing. You refused to call it a bachelorette party since it was just the two of you going out for the evening, but Bradley made sure his best friend knew to spare no expense when it came to anything you wanted.

"It's just pedicures and pottery," you whispered against Bradley's lips with a smile as he held you close so he could feel your round belly against his body. "I'll be home in a few hours."

He grunted softly, kissing you a little deeper before releasing your lips. "We'll still miss you," he murmured, letting his hands roam along your hips while Noah sat on the area rug and worked on one of the new coloring books you picked up for him. "And don't overdo it." When Natasha started honking her horn, he let his forehead rest on your shoulder. "She's the worst."

You just laughed and kissed his cheek as you said, "She's the best, and you know it, Daddy."

It would have been impossible to dispute that fact. She was the one who took care of you when Bradley wasn't stateside. "Go have fun."

"Bye, Mommy!" Noah said, popping up to give you a hug when Bradley released you. He scooped his son up since he didn't want you lifting anything, and you gave Noah a kiss on the forehead.

"Have fun with Daddy," you told him, kissing him once more before heading outside to Nat's idling SUV. 

Bradley stood on the porch with Noah and waved until you were out of sight, and then Noah asked, "Can we get Mommy a coloring book?"

"Hey," Bradley said, nudging the door open while also making sure Skittles didn't get outside without her leash on. "That's a great idea, Bub. Maybe a Princess coloring book? You can give it to her for the wedding?"

His son looked so much like a tiny version of himself, and he had to stifle his laughter as Noah nodded stoically and said, "Yeah, she'd like that. I have so many great ideas."

Bradley took him back inside, and they ended up stretched out on the floor together. Noah continued with his masterpiece while Bradley started searching for options on his phone. After a few minutes, he found an independent shop that made coloring books with different themes based on photos that you send to them. "Do you like this?" he asked his son, holding up his phone.

Noah looked at the sample pages as Bradley scrolled through them. He nodded and said, "Mommy is prettier than that."

"She absolutely is," Bradley replied as he realized the wedding was in a week and didn't know if a custom book could even be completed in that short amount of time. "Let me see if we can get something like this for her. If not, we can always save it for her birthday."

His son started to pout at the mere mention of having to wait longer for it, so Bradley started typing up a message to the owner of the shop, hoping that he'd be able to explain that it was for his wedding. Once that was done, he checked the time and asked, "Do you need a snack before dinner?"

"Ants on logs," Noah replied without missing a beat. Bradley had no problem with the healthy snacks you somehow tricked the two of them into eating, but he was always told he never got the peanut butter proportions right.

"Yeah, okay. I can try to make them the way you like-"

"Mommy left some in the fridge."

Bradley chuckled as he stood up, coaxing Noah to abandon his coloring project for the time being. "Of course she did. She's the best." Somehow even when you weren't here, you had everything covered.

-----------------------------

"Okay, so if you could ditch Bradley and marry a celebrity, who would you pick?"

You burst out laughing in the pedicure chair next to Natasha with your hands resting on the roundest part of your belly. "Who said I would? Even if I could?" She gave you a look followed by an eye roll before you said, "You'll laugh at me, so I don't even want to say my answer."

"Just say it," she prompted as you dragged your foot through the warm water.

You groaned and said, "I like all the older, DILF-y actors."

Natasha started cackling as you covered your eyes with your hands. "You have a type!" she said amidst her laughter. "And your type is Rooster!"

You thought back to all the time you wasted with Greyson and other guys your age and grimaced. "I don't think that was always my type. It's a more recent development, and I'm not mad about it." You moved your hand on your belly and added, "Boy suck. Men are at least marginally better."

"Well," she said, leaning a little closer to you like she had a secret. "You found a good one. Or rather, I kind of found you for him. But regardless, he's a keeper. Kind of because he has Noah."

"Mostly because he has Noah," you told her, and then both of you were laughing.

After your nails were painted a vibrant purple, Natasha took you out for dinner and let you eat until you were full. You could tell your body and appetite were changing by the day, but you refused to feel self conscious about it in front of her. The two of you were sharing a slice of cake for dessert when you said, "He really did plan almost everything for the wedding. All I did was help him pick out matching suits for him and Noah to wear. And I picked out some flowers and my dress, but that's it."

Natasha hummed as she took another forkful of dessert. "I'm telling you, he'll always be good like that. He's a planner. Very responsible."

You felt silly telling her what was on your mind, but you said it anyway. "He pays my credit card bill. Not that I spend a lot! I try not to! I usually just buy groceries and things for Noah." She nodded like your words weren't as startling as you thought they were. "I kind of wanted to surprise him as a thank you, but if I buy something, he'll see it on the credit card statement."

Maybe you should have been wary of the smirk that found its way to her lips when Natasha said, "What if I rally the boys one night this week and take him out for a little bachelor party?"

"Oh," you said softly. "You'd do that? Just something lowkey?"

"Super lowkey," she agreed with a nod.

You could easily imagine them going to Top Golf or out for some drinks. "I think he might really like that."

"Or.... and just hear me out," she said, holding up her hands innocently after handing her credit card to the waiter. "Or, you let me absolutely roast him for the night."

You studied her face; how bad could it be? She was Bradley's best friend after all. Even if she was giving him a hard time, she'd probably make it fun. "What did you have in mind?" you asked as the two of you left the restaurant and headed for the pottery boutique down the block.

"A few things I'm going to need your approval for," she replied casually. And while you worked on making yourself a mug that said Noah's Mommy, you listened to Natasha's not-so-lowkey plans for Thursday night. By the time your mug actually looked like a mug, you gave her full approval.

"I almost feel bad about this," you told her with a laugh.

"I don't."

-------------------------------

The following evening after Noah was in bed, Bradley set you up for a nice shower while he cleaned up the kitchen from the chicken enchiladas you made for dinner. When Nat called him, he held his phone to his shoulder with his cheek and kept working.

He answered the call and asked, "Hey, what's up?"

"Your bachelor party with me and the guys starts at six o'clock on Thursday evening."

He laughed in response. "It's funny that this is the first time I'm hearing about it."

Bradley could practically feel her rolling her eyes through the phone. "Just be ready to go."

"Ready for what?" he asked, knowing better than to just trust her with this. The dating app was one thing, and that had turned out great in the end, but he wasn't going to blindly go with her on this.

"Uhhh... just some stuff."

"Natasha."

"Bradley."

"What did you do?"

There was a brief pause before she said, "Just be ready for dinner, booze and some strippers."

With a deep sigh, Bradley closed his eyes and said, "I'm going to have to check with my wife-to-be about the strippers, Nat." You had to know by now that you had nothing to worry about, and he wasn't even all that keen on going to a strip club, but he didn't want you to be upset.

"She knows the plan."

He froze as he loaded the dishwasher. "She does?"

Natasha laughed, and Bradley swore he felt his skin crawl. "She does. Be ready for six o'clock on Thursday."

"We have work on Friday-" 

She already ended the call. Bradley finished cleaning up when he heard you getting out of the shower. "God damn it, Nat," he muttered as he turned off the kitchen lights and made his way back to the bedroom where you were all wrapped up in a towel.

"Hi, Daddy."

He groaned at your words and your little smirk. "Hey, Baby. Can we talk for a minute?"

Your eyebrows shot up as you held your towel around you a little tighter. "What's wrong? Is it something about the wedding? Did the marriage license not go through? We only have six days."

"No, no," he promised, reaching for you. "It's not that. It's... I just got off the phone. With Nat."

You looked relieved as you leaned against him. "Good. I was worried for a second."

Bradley didn't quite know how to approach this topic now that he was here. Natasha would be as tenacious as a junkyard dog about her plans, so he had to say something. "You don't have anything to worry about."

You laughed softly. "That sounds nice."

He cleared his throat and said, "Nat called about my bachelor party night?" 

It came out more like a question than a statement, but you just nodded and said, "Dinner and drinks and the strip club."

"Yeah," he rasped. "You approved this whole thing?"

"Mmhmm. To be fair, it was all her idea. I just told her it was okay."

Bradley tipped your chin so you were looking up at him, your face fresh and perfect after your shower. "If this plan is not okay with you, then I'm not going."

"It's okay with me," you replied easily. "I trust you."

He studied your face. "I feel like I'm going to end up babysitting everyone on a work night. Two days before the wedding."

You snorted in response. "You'll have fun. And so will everyone else. You should go."

"Yeah, I'm going," he groaned. "Nat will just have the guys drag me out if I don't go willingly. But I don't really care about looking at strippers. I got you and your perfect tits right here at home."

You didn't stop him when he slowly tugged your towel from your fingers and pulled it open. And yeah, your tits looked perfect, but so did the swell of your pregnant belly and your soft skin. He was hard as soon as the towel hit the floor. 

"Daddy," you whined softly, shivering in his arms. It was December, and the nights were chilly in San Diego; you had taken to snuggling with him even more than usual in your sleep. "Now you need to warm me up."

"My pleasure," he replied, scooping you up and dropping you carefully onto the king sized bed that you picked out for the room. "Let me start right here," he whispered before he kissed you softly, covering your body gently with his. "Feeling warmer?"

You shifted beneath him, spreading your legs wider so he was nestled against your pussy, his cock straining against his jeans zipper. "A little bit," you whispered innocently. 

Bradley smirked, and when he brought his hand up to stroke your breast, he said, "I told you, I got these perfect tits right here."

"Bradley," you giggled as his fingers skimmed along your skin, but when he stroked his thumb across your tightly furled nipple, you arched your back and made a raspy gasping sound. Your eyes went wide as you looked up at him. "Oh my god," you moaned.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his hand away, but you were already nodding vigorously. 

"It felt really good." The words rushed right from your lips as you rolled your hips up to meet his. "Different, I guess. I can't explain it."

When he rubbed your nipple between his thumb and index finger, he smirked. You were instantly squirming and moaning, reaching for his zipper with one hand and his hair with the other. Your eyes were wild even though he was being gentle, and he dipped his head down to whisper in your ear. "You're extra sensitive right now. It's the pregnancy hormones." He plucked and stroked as you started panting. "God damn, Princess. You like that?"

"Yes!" Your voice already sounded broken, and he'd barely touched you.

"Shh. Keep quiet like a good girl." But his words and hand seemed to have the opposite effect on you, because you just got louder. Bradley reached down to where you had his cock free from his zipper and pulled your hand up to his lips. He kissed your fingers before shoving them a little rough into your mouth. "You have to be quiet if you want me to play with you."

You moaned around your own fingers but nodded your head, and at least you were quieter now as Bradley kissed his way from your neck down to your tits. He didn't know how he was going to manage you when there were two kids in the house trying to sleep, but at the moment, he didn't really care. You were going to be his wife in a few short days. That thought alone had him bucking his cock against the bedding as he ran his mustache along your peaked nipple, inhaling your wildflower scent.

When he pulled your nipple into his mouth and sucked, he could tell your breasts were already a little bit bigger than before. Soon you'd be bigger everywhere. Getting even more sensitive by the day. He was painfully hard right now, listening to your muffled screams and tasting you. He licked and sucked until your tits were both damp from his mouth and overstimulated from his mustache. 

When you started bucking up, Bradley eased his hand down to cup your pussy and found that you were soaked. He couldn't remember Meredith getting quite like this as he dipped his middle finger into your slick and easing it down to your hole.

"Daddy," you gasped as you pulled your fingers from your mouth. "I'm going to come."

You looked shocked by your statement as you sank down around his finger. He could already feel your tight pussy fluttering around him as he whispered, "You want me to make it so good?"

His only answer was a whimper as you bit your lip, and he knew he'd make sure you were always taken care of in every way. Carefully, he added a second finger and started to circle your clit with his thumb. You were shaking a bit, your pretty tits bouncing softly as he ran his nose down the valley between your breasts. 

"Be a good girl. You know where to put those fingers, Princess," he coaxed, watching you slip them between your lips. Then he let you have his mouth on your tits again, while his hand worked at your pussy. He carefully drew a shaking orgasm out of you as you slobbered on your own fingers, not stopping until he was afraid you'd be too far gone soon.

"Daddy," you whined around your fingers as he ran his tongue flat across your nipple.

"Let me fuck you," he begged, realizing he was already close and needing to be inside you. "Please, Baby."

You reached for his cock and guided him home, and he fucked you with his jeans barely pulled down, coming inside you after just a few strokes. You were the picture of sated perfection with his cum oozing out of your pussy and your wet fingers skimming along your swollen belly and breasts. You were his young, pristine babysitter and his pregnant wife-to-be and everything in between. "I love you."

"Keep me warm all night, Daddy."

---------------------------

As you sent Bradley off with Natasha, you shared a conspiratorial look with her. You only felt slightly bad for keeping the bachelor party plans to yourself, and ultimately it made you feel good when Bradley went out for the night in an old pair of jeans and an uninspired shirt. He didn't look the part of a man who wanted to try to dazzle some strippers, and you loved him for it. 

"Bye, Bub," he said, kneeling to kiss Noah where he stood at your side. "Be good for Mommy." Then he stood and kissed you deeply. "I won't be out late, okay?"

"Stay out as late as you want," you told him, running your fingers along his cheek as he pulled away from you. "Just don't have a hangover on Saturday."

He smiled and focused on your face even as Nat and the guys yelled at him from Javy's car in the driveway. "Our wedding day. It'll be perfect. Like you."

"Go," you told him with a laugh even as you had butterflies in your belly. "Have fun. We'll be here when you get home."

With one more kiss, he was off and jogging down the walkway. You watched him climb into the backseat, then they all waved at you as Javy backed out of the driveway with Natasha in the front seat. You were wondering how long it would be until Bradley called you to tell you he had in fact been taken to see a bunch of male strippers. The guys had apparently all been so excited when Natasha mentioned the strip club, she had a hard time holding in her laughter. The plan all along was that she'd take Bradley and the rest of them to dinner and then to The Tiger's Cage- San Diego's premier male review.

But you didn't hear from them at all while you and Noah ate macaroni and cheese together. You still didn't hear a word as the two of you took Skittles for a short walk to look at Christmas lights. You even let Noah dip his hands in green paint to make a Christmas tree art project to hang on the refrigerator, but nobody called or texted you.

"Mommy?" Noah asked as you got him changed into his dinosaur pajamas. "Are you going to adopt me?"

You smiled and kissed him on his chubby cheek. "I am," you promised. But when you looked at his face, his brow was pinched with worry.

"Is it going to hurt?"

"Oh, Noah," you said with a surprised laugh, pulling him into your arms and holding him against his growing younger sibling. "Not at all! It won't feel like anything."

"Then why are you going to do it?" he asked, face muffled by your shoulder.

You soothed his back with your hand, considering his question. For all intents and purposes, you really were his mom. Bradley added you to his will; if anything happened to him, Noah was solely yours. "I kind of want to have a little piece of paper with an official signature that says we get to be together forever. Does that sound okay?"

"That's adoption?" he asked. 

"That's adoption."

"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a little shrug before climbing into bed. "Can I sleep with Skittles again?"

The pup appeared in the doorway, always excited to hear her name. "She can stay in here until Daddy gets home." You set the dog in bed with him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead as he yawned. "I love you."

"Love you, Mommy." He was half asleep as you turned on his night light and left the room. When you checked your phone, you smiled, having finally received the message you were waiting for. 

Bradley Bradshaw: Nat brought us to The Tiger's Cage. My name is on the marquee. It says CONGRATULATIONS DADDY BRADSHAW

You were doubled over in laughter, holding your belly and trying not to wet yourself. Because he also sent a picture. All of the guys were lined up under the marquee sign, and you were pleased to see that they all looked like they were being good sports about the entire thing. Bradley was the only one who looked slightly mortified.

You texted back Go have fun, Daddy Bradshaw!

Natasha sent you some random photos as you got ready for bed. You were surprised Jake was there, given your history with him, but even he looked like he was having fun. You laughed at a picture of Bradley drinking something pink and blended, and then the photos stopped. 

You wondered what was going on, but you kept yourself busy. Bradley told you not to clean up, promising to take care of everything tomorrow night before the wedding in the backyard on Saturday afternoon. Since you had the time and the privacy, you tried on your wedding dress one last time, sliding the fabric along your legs and zipping it up your side. You grabbed your purple paper crown, which was looking a lot worse for the wear now, and set it on your head. 

When you looked in the mirror, you smiled. The dress fit like a dream and hugged your bump. The crown looked fun at the moment, but you wouldn't wear it on Saturday; you were pretty sure Bradley considered it a 'bedroom' item at this point anyway. Mostly, you looked happy. Like someone who was accepted in this perfect place. Like a woman who was needed here. And you needed the Bradshaw boys to be your family.

You wore the dress around for a few minutes before carefully unzipping it and getting ready for bed. It was late now, but you requested the day off tomorrow, and you wanted to see Bradley when he got home from his bachelor party. After you checked on Noah and Skittles, you curled up on the living room couch. 

Every time you stopped to think about the wedding, you got a little anxious. When you asked Bradley what he had planned for dinner for the reception, he just told you he had everything under control. He said all you had to do was show up with some sort of wedding vows, but he didn't tell you anything that he had planned. 

You dozed off on the couch, somehow still exhausted all the time, and you had no idea how late it was when you woke up to the sound of laughter and a key in the front door.

"You smell like Axe body spray. I can't believe someone is marrying you."

"Jesus fuck, Nat. I smell like Axe because you took me to see male strippers."

"Well, I know I had a great time tonight," Natasha cackled as she guided Bradley inside, and you stood up with your hand clasped over your mouth. He was a swaying mess, and he was holding a huge wad of cash and a bag from a convenience store.

"Princess," he crooned softly when he saw you, and your heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes.

"Hi, Daddy."

And then he was on you, so gentle in his overindulgence, it was almost surprising. He was looking around like he wasn't sure what to do with everything he was holding, trying to touch your belly.

"I'll see you on Saturday," Natasha said with a smile as she closed the door behind her, and then you were alone with him. 

"What's in the bag? Are why are you holding a roll of cash?" you asked as you guided him to the couch. 

He sat down hard and handed everything to you as you stood between his splayed legs. "The strippers were dudes. I made Nat and Javy stop so I could get you some Skittles. I'm really drunk. Can we get married soon?"

When you looked in the bag you found six packs of your favorite candy. "Wow, you must be very intoxicated if you bought a pack of Sour Skittles too."

"Did I?" he asked before stretching out on the couch. "Shit. I'll eat them. Come here."

You sat on the floor next to him and handed him the bag of Sour Skittles as you counted the nearly seven hundred dollars you were holding. "Bradley, where did this come from?" you asked in alarm.

But he just crunched on some of the candy in response. "Oh, these are fucking nasty. Baby, can we please get married?" he rambled, dumping more Skittles into his mouth.

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. "Were getting married in like thirty-six hours. Now can you please tell me where you got this money from?"

"Huh?" he grunted like he'd never seen it before. "Oh. Oh, that." Then he casually dumped the rest of the Sour Skittles and chewed them up while you laughed and shook his arm.

"Bradley!"

He swallowed and dropped the wrapper on the floor before pulling you up onto the couch with him. "Jake got tips for stripping, and Nat made him give me the cash."

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked with in shock as you tried to settle into a comfortable position on him.

"They tried to get Daddy Bradshaw up on stage. I pointed to Jake and said it was him."

You couldn't stop laughing now. "But you got the cash?"

"Yeah," he said, eyes drifting closed as he propped his arm behind his head. "A wedding gift. For the honeymoon."

Just as you settled your head on his chest, you popped back up again. "Are we going on a honeymoon?" You started to feel a little apprehensive about going away for an extended trip without Noah while you were pregnant, but Bradley brought his big hand up to settle on your back as he snuggled in a little more.

"Next year. After the baby's born. Anywhere you want to go."

He really did kind of smell like Axe body spray, and he definitely needed to take a shower, but you let him hold you for a few minutes while he slept.

------------------------------

Part 61 will be their wedding! Thanks so much for reading and letting me share this family with you! We're almost to the finish line. Thanks @caitsymichelle13 for the request about the coloring book; stay tuned. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #the younger kind

[amerricanartwork]

RW Headcanon: "Pebbsie Privilege"

Here’s a headcanon I’ve had in the works for a while, and now I finally want to share it! It's shorter than some of my others, but I hope you'll still find it amusing!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

So firstly (and I plan to expand on this more later) I headcanon Five Pebbles is someone who cares a lot about his appearance, though not in a prissy or snooty sense and more in a “likes being the smartest and most sophisticated one in the room” sense. That means, more so than the average person, he generally doesn’t like being teased, ignored, belittled, condescended to, or otherwise disrespected, and very understandably so if you ask me! But it also means there exists a very special ability when it comes to interacting with Five Pebbles that almost no characters have. 

It’s no more than the ability of someone to refer to Five Pebbles as “Pebbsie” while he’s in earshot without getting death-glares from him. Looks to the Moon, who first started using it, affectionately calls this ability “Pebbsie privilege”, and she ends up being one of the only characters who has it (besides Innocence, who in my portrayals eventually gets it too). Though even so, Pebbles originally got rather flustered when she called him that alone, much less in front of others, considering it's definitely a very cutesy nickname. In fact, poor Pebbles really didn’t like being called “Pebbsie” because one of his least favorite ways of being treated is like a child (which includes being thought of as "cute" in any way). This unfortunately happens to him a lot though since he’s part of the newest iterator generation and tends to have lots of uncommon ideas rarely taken seriously by the older models, and this treatment only amplified as he grew more stubborn and arrogant. 

To elaborate on the origin, Moon developed the nickname pretty much on an impulse — quite a rare thing for her to act on actually — of wanting to hearken more to her role as “Big Sis Moon” and show love to her little brother. Soon after she started using it though Pebbles would pull her into private chats and urge her to drop it to save his dignity. Not wanting to hurt her brother in any way, it didn’t take long before she apologized and stopped using it, and basically got her "Pebbsie privilege" revoked. In the current time she secretly still likes calling him that in her mind, but knowing how much he dislikes it she always feels pretty guilty afterwards, despite them being no more than thoughts at that point. While not a major issue in-and-of itself, this situation was actually a small step in worsening a long-time fear Moon has, though that’s a headcanon for another day…

On a (marginally) more positive note however, after Moon’s collapse and the worsening of Five Pebbles’s rot, along with him generally reminiscing about the things he used to have (as part of yet more character headcanons I’ll elaborate on some other time), he actually began to grow fond of the nickname more and more. Yet he also couldn’t also shake the growing heartache the memories brang, as he came to see it as a reminder of his sister’s never-ending love for him and the better times he now regretted taking for granted and trying so hard to escape. While I headcanon he handles it differently in Downpour’s canon, in the worm-off-the-string AU story I’ve got so far, Moon slowly regaining her “Pebbsie privilege” and Pebbles appreciating it and no longer taking it so seriously (though he still forbids its usage in public) could serve as a small, yet sweet indicator of character growth for both of them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Aaaand another RW headcanon done! I wanna mention, though, now that I’ve got more of an idea for the aforementioned AU I really want to start posting more of my headcanons for the Local Group, since the character interactions, histories, and ultimate character growth is perhaps one of the most important elements of that story so far. I’ve spent at least a couple weeks creating almost 40 pages worth of character notes, and while this particular one started out as just a little side-headcanon, I ended up tying it into all of that. Hopefully I can start sharing the main parts of these headcanons soon!

#art #artwork #sketch #drawing #digital #digital art #fanart #rain world #headcanons #rw headcanons #iterator #rw iterator #five pebbles #FP #rw fp #looks to the moon #LttM #rw lttm #quetzalli draws #quetzalli headcanons

[racinggirl]

furthest from truth

Lando Norris fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: I'm baaack! It's been a while, I have to admit. But after having 3 new requests today, I got motivated again and I decided to write the ones that were yet to be posted on my page. I hope you like it! I've added some spice to the end of the chapter 👀 Don't forget to follow me so you won't miss my other stories! 🫶🏼

Sun. Beach. Sand. Friends.

It might look cliché, but it’s what filled your hearts with joy.

‘’Norris! Give me a hand, will ya?’’ Your lips pulled away from those of your boyfriend the moment he got up to help one of your friends with preparing the jet skis.  

‘’Finally,’’ your best friend, Ava, laughed as she took a seat next to you. ‘’Now that your lips are no longer glued to his, what do you think of grabbing a drink, I’m in a desperate need for a Frozen Daiquiri.’’

She pulled you up on your feet after you agreed on getting drinks. It was your holiday, after all, and even though it was just your first day of the 3-week holiday here in Dubai, you were planning on making it the best holiday yet.

You and Lando had been together for a little over 5 months now, the two of you bumping into each other at last year’s Christmas Market in London. You spilled your bottle of water over your shirt, and he was determined to win you a teddy bear so he could make it up to you.

After that Christmas Market, you went on a ton of dates. In London, but also in Monaco, as that was where he lived. You attended 3 races before he finally asked you to be his last summer, and obviously you said yes, otherwise this story is kind of weird, isn’t it?

Anyways, you knew who he was when you met him, having watched a few races here and there, along with your friends.

The moment you told your friends Lando had asked you out on a date, they couldn’t contain their excitement and practically forced you to go out with him. So, you did. And here we are, almost a year later.

‘’Two Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri, please.’’ Ava ordered the drinks for the two of you and once you felt the cold glass in your hand, you immediately took a sip.

‘’Urgh,’’ you groaned, your eyes closed. ‘’Best drink ever.’’ You giggled.

‘’Lando! Oh my god watch out!’’ Your grip on his life jacket was tight as he was riding the jet ski with you on the back. ‘’You idiot!’’ You laughed, hands gripping his shoulders firmly when you felt him go even faster – if that was even possible.

‘’You’re riding a jet ski with an F1 driver, love. Did you really think I was gonna go slow?’’ You groaned at his reply, and you simply held onto him like you could fall off any moment, which was probably the case.

Everything sport related was a game to him, and he was very, very competitive. He hated losing, which is why he tried his hardest to make you his, with success.

‘’Okay, okay, enough speed for me, let’s go back to the shore and have dinner, I’m starving.’’ You breathe, Lando’s hand moving over your leg slowly. He lifted his hand till it rested on your outer thigh, whilst still steering the jet ski with one hand. Slower, though, thankfully.

‘’We will, love, we will.’’ He said, but you could hear the amusement in his voice, his tone, teasingly with a smirk.

‘’Lan-…’’ You couldn’t even finish your sentence before your boyfriend pulled the right handle towards him, the two of you flying over the water. He made sure to keep an eye on you, but he knew you enjoyed this, and he wasn’t wrong.

You might tell him to stop going fast, heck, even in the bedroom you’d tell him to stop, but it was always with that flirty and teasing tone. He knew that tone, and he knew it meant you did not want him to, in fact, stop. So, he kept going.

‘’I should have thought better before signing that contract about us.’’

You were fully drenched, Lando obviously pushing the strings too hard which caused you to fall off the jet ski. Nothing harsh, it was all playful, and the two of you were laughing when it happened.

‘’You’re an idiot.’’ You smirked, rolling your eyes playfully as you squeezed the salty water out of your hair.

‘’I know, but you like it.’’ He teased, slapping your ass lightly as his hand moved its way towards your hip, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. ‘’I love you.’’

Dinner, which was absolutely insane – mostly because you were starving, but definitely because it was one of the best restaurants here in Dubai.

‘’Ehm..’’ Ava shoved you her phone, and you immediately let your eyes wander over the tweets, the Instagram posts, and the articles.

Lando saw the worried look on your face, so he cut off the conversation with his friends and pointed his attention to you, causing his friends to do the same.

‘’What’s wrong, love?’’ He asked, his thumb drawing small circles on your knee as his gaze went from you to the phone, back to you.

You showed him the articles, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. You could see his jaw clench, the apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. ‘’They really need to make rumours about everything, don’t they?’’ He sighed and pressed a kiss to your temple.

‘’Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll fix it, we’ll post a statement on Insta, alright?’’ He said, his arms wrapping around you which caused you to relax.

You felt guilty, because you were aware of the eyes that were on him now that his contract with McLaren was coming to an end. You knew his contract was getting renewed, but the world didn’t, and you didn’t want to cause issues.

People blaming McLaren for not renewing his contract, and how this. People blaming McLaren for forcing Lando to be in a relationship with you, a PR relationship, which was the furthest from the truth. You loved each other so much, and McLaren had absolutely nothing to do with the two of you.

‘’Come here.’’ Lando’s arms made his way around your shoulders, his strong arms pulling you even closer to his chest. The bed was comfy, soft, but the tension in your face was apparent, especially to Lando.

‘’I just, I feel so stupid for saying that.’’ You sighed but Lando reassured you immediately.

‘’Babe, it’s not the first time we say this, it’s our joke, and people don’t get it, apparently. You know how the media is, they exaggerate everything to get those views and clicks, so they probably overheard you saying that, but did not see the look on your face, or your beautiful smile when you said that.’’ His voice was soft and calm, like he was not stressed at all about this.

‘’But the image McLa-..’’

‘’No, baby, no. That’s not your fault, okay? They should have probably announced the contract extension sooner, yeah, but that has absolutely nothing to do with whatever you said at the beach, okay?’’ He said, stern, but gentle. And you believed him. Of course you did, you believed everything he would tell you because you knew he was right.

‘’Now let’s make that post so people will stop complaining about things that are the furthest from the truth. That, and so I can take you tonight because I really, really want to.’’ He whispered the last thing with a voice so deep, you felt chills all over your body.

landonorris added to his story

landonorris & yourusername

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 1,273,710 others

I love you more than anyone imagine. Nothing can stop us, I promise you. Best decision I've ever made 🧡

view all 39,264 comments

user1 I feel ashamed

user5 as you should user3 we all should. how could we think it was just a PR. they are in love in love.

user2 You are so so so cute together!

‘’Lando, fuck, stop!’’ You breathe, hands pushing against his chest as he looked into your eyes, his bright ones a few shades darker than usually. He smirked, wetted his lips before thrusting even harder… Just how you asked.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando norris #f1 imagines #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fan #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #mclaren formula 1 #formula one fanfic #formula one fanfiction #lando x you #lando norris mclaren #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n

[tarotwithlove]

PICK A CARD ⭒ see yourself through the eyes of the person who loves you most

reminder that this is a general reading and messages found here may not apply to everyone. take what resonates, leave what doesn't, and don't force anything if it does not fit.

BOOK A READING WITH ME · LINKTREE · 18+ PATREON · SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC · TIPS ♡ tips, bookings, and feedback are highly appreciated!

GROUP ONE

cards · queen of swords, five of pentacles, the sun, the magician, the world, onyx: willpower, strength, protection.

channelled songs · call me baby by exo. coyote, my little brother by mitski. collide by howie day. beggin (original version) by magcon.

my dear group one ♡ the person who loves you most sees you as the standard. you are who they want to be, who they wish to be, and who they are working towards being. in their eyes, you are a role model, even if you do not see yourself as role model material.

this person sees you as disciplined, strong-willed, intelligent, and quick-witted. they think that every conversation with you is like a sparring match -- of course, in a good way. you keep the conversation alive, with ease. you push others to learn more and think deeply before speaking (and about what you’re speaking about) so that they can keep up with you.

though… it is not easy to keep up with you. you’re always ten steps ahead of everyone else. that’s how this person sees you.

they also admire your self-esteem, and find it almost enviable how you live so authentically and loudly when they find it such a struggle to do the same. how you confidently take up space when they find it easier to mumble, bow their head, and hide away.

this person greatly admires you. and they see that you do not do anything to be admired or looked up to -- which only makes them admire and look up to you more. to them, you’re just being your natural self, and there is nothing better and more admirable than this.

GROUP TWO

cards · king of pentacles, page of swords, six of cups, the moon (reversed), page of cups, shungite: connection, relief, calm.

channelled songs · beautiful girl by woosung & peniel. no choir by florence + the machine. bint elkhandaq by mashrou’ leila. angel of small death & the codeine scene by hozier.

my dear group two ♡ the person who loves you most sees you as divinely blessed and divinely protected. they look at you and wonder how someone can be so beautiful, so gifted, so talented, so kind… how someone can be as effortlessly loved as you are…

but, don’t get me wrong, there is no malice or jealousy behind any of this. when they look at you -- and make these observations -- it is all from love. it actually brings them peace that you get to navigate at least some aspects of this life easier than they have had to.

this person also sees you as someone who can not only be relied on, but who you want on your side. whether in an emergency situation or when playing a team sport/game or in an escape room situation, they will always want to choose you.

they think of you as an incredibly intelligent person, especially when it comes to the practical things. this person has more “book smarts” as compared to your “street smarts” so they feel like you work well together easily.

they also admire how compassionate you are. how thoughtful you are. and appreciate that you have never let the realities of life turn your heart cold or numb you to life’s beauty.

i just want to say that this person truly loves you. not only that, but they truly enjoy your company. they also see you as someone who makes the difficulties of life bearable just by being who you are.

GROUP THREE

cards · the sun, five of wands, four of pentacles, five of swords, the fool, tourmaline: focus, flexibility, clarity.

channelled songs · notice me by sza. i love me after you by mitski. so this is love by ilene woods. dreamer by nct 127. focus by ghost9.

my dear group three ♡ the person who loves you most sees you as a “happy pill” -- you make their day better, you make their day brighter, you make them happier -- all without much effort.

this person loves you so much more than you even realise. and, more than that, they respect and admire you more than you realise.

you are always teaching them and introducing to new things -- things which have shaped them in unnameable ways -- and, because of this, this person sees you as their point of reference for a lot of their interests, perspectives, and ideas. hand-in-hand with this, too, this person sees you as someone with whom they can freely share things with -- without judgement or shame.

this person sees you as someone who is trying hard. working hard. and wishes you would let go and let loose, just a little bit. they know how hard your life has been and understand that certain circumstances have jaded you, but they also wish you wouldn’t be so negative about life and the future.

this person thinks highly of you and wishes you would think highly of yourself, as well. they also have high high HIGH hopes for you and what’s in store for you, and, even when you do not see anything to be proud of, they are very proud of you.

GROUP FOUR

cards · seven of pentacles, queen of cups, the chariot, the fool, nine of pentacles, red spinel: action, courage, energy.

channelled songs · mack the knife by frank sinatra & quincy jones. vacation town by the front bottoms. lovely by minzy. c’mon marianne - 2006 remaster by frankie valli & the four seasons.

my dear group four ♡ the person who loves you most sees you as someone who, while they may not have always been handed the best circumstances in life, always somehow finds a way to make the best of what they have.

to this person, you have the midas touch. you can create good circumstances out of bad circumstances. you can make a dish that turned out horribly into something delicious, sew anything back together, fix anything that’s broken. you can save the whole day.

this person sees you as someone with whom anyone would be lucky to build a life. to start a community. in fact, this person sees you as someone they would like to build a whole life with, and who they would to live with and create a community with.

this person’s dream is to have a home with you. an environment in which you can both be safe; in which you can both be free.

and, just to note, this connection doesn’t necessarily have to be romantic. you can have a home, build a life, family, and community, with anyone. for some, it’s likely that this person who loves you most is a family member or close friend who cannot ever see themselves separated from you.

this person sees you as an old-soul and a free-thinker. someone who dances to your own tune and carries yourself in a manner that is so uniquely you. you are an inspiration to them, in many ways. but not only that, they feel as if you probably the only person in the world who truly understands them and the way that they see the world.

#** #tarot #pac #pick a card #tarotblr #witchblr #witch of color #tarotcommunity #tarotcreator #tarotonline #divination #channelled message #channeled message #channeled reading

[taeyongdoyoung]

end of beginning

summary: your perfectionist self can't settle and wants to improve your grades. no matter the cost... pairing: johnny x reader genre: smut warnings: professor/student dynamic, age gap (unspecified), dubcon, power play, neck-kissing, biting, spanking, fingering, slight dumbification, size kink (duh), unprotected sex, creampie, forbidden relationship, pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart) word count: 1.5k

You have never felt so foolish as you do now, standing outside of your professor’s cabinet, waiting for his office hours to start. This isn’t like you at all. You are usually at the top of each class, amazing students and teachers alike with your well-written assignments and outstanding participation in the discussions. You are usually the one that professors praise.

To say you feel embarrassed would be an understatement. You are not used to this, asking for help, admitting that you are falling behind, that your grades have never been worse. But if you want to graduate successfully, you have to swallow your pride and face the problem head on.

You don’t know what it is about Professor Suh’s lectures but you just can’t seem to focus. You try to take detailed notes as you do in your other classes, but you end up getting so lost in his beautiful voice, staring at his pretty face and thinking about his big hands as they flick through the pages that your notes end up being messy, incoherent and awfully inaccurate.

You have tried different strategies such as asking other students for their notes but nothing seems to work. So, in your desperation, you end up here, waiting for Professor Suh to put you out of your misery. You hope that no one else shows up during office hours ‘cause it would be too mortifying if other students find out and start making fun of you for being so behind on the material.

“Oh, Y/N!” Professor Suh exclaims in surprise as he unlocks the door to his cabinet, letting you in. “How long have you been waiting? Usually no one comes to these office hours so I’m a bit late. You should have emailed me.”

You stand nervously, your fingers digging into the tender skin of your already sweaty palms.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…” you start to explain.

“No, you don’t have to apologize, it’s just unusual. Take a seat, make yourself comfortable,” he tries to reassure you in his calming voice.

You take off your bag, putting it on the ground and sit in the chair against his. God, you feel so stupid…

“So, what brings you here?” Professor Suh asks.

“You’ve probably noticed but my grades have been plummeting,” you murmur awkwardly.

“Well, if that’s what you call a couple of B’s, then sure, I guess,” he laughs softly.

“You don’t understand…I know other students may be happy with such grades but this is unusual for me.”

Professor Suh looks at you over his glasses in disbelief.

“You do realize that in real life nobody cares about grades, yes?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time,” you reach to grab your bag but he stops you.

“I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to help you.”

You exhale in relief.

“What is troubling you the most? Is it the material?”

“I don’t know…It doesn’t make sense because I love literature, it’s always come easy to me. I just have a hard time focusing during your lectures, for some reason.”

“Must be my fault, then,” Professor Suh smiles knowingly. “My teaching method isn’t engaging enough.”

“N-no, that’s not what I m-meant,” you stammer nervously. “I’m just…easily distracted, I guess.”

“Oh? Are you like that in your other classes, as well?”

“Not really, no,” you admit, feeling even more embarrassed.

“See? Then I guess I need to improve. Find a way to help you focus,” Professor Suh insists.

“Please help me. I really don’t want to fail your class, it’s very important to me.”

“Is it important to you because you care about your grades or because you don’t want to let me down?” Professor Suh asks staring into your eyes.

The question is so direct that it takes you off guard. You want to look away but you are so captivated you don’t dare to blink.

“I…don’t want to disappoint you, Professor Suh,” you confess. “Your lectures are very engaging and I enjoy listening to them.”

“Do you enjoy the content or the sound of my voice?”

“Professor…” you break eye contact and you are far too gone to think clearly. What is this man doing to you?

Suddenly, he stands up in all his glory, walks to your chair and lifts your chin up with his finger.

“Answer the question.”

“What…what was the question again?” you ask dumbly.

He shakes his head in disapproval.

“Just as I feared. Helping you focus would be quite difficult.”

“I’m s-sorry, I’ll try harder.”

“You better.”

Grabbing a book from his desk, he opens it and puts it in front of you.

“Read. Out loud. Don’t stop unless I tell you to, understood?”

You nod eagerly and start reading.

“We like to think of the old-fashioned American classics as children’s books. Just childishness, on our part.”

Professor Suh starts playing with your hair gently, surprising you but you don’t dare to stop and continue reading to the best of your abilities.

“The world fears the new experience more than it fears anything.”

He is kissing your neck, biting even, eliciting soft moans out of you. How is that going to help you focus?! You feel like your brain is no longer working.

“Keep reading,” he reminds you.

“Cutting away the old emotions and consciousness. Don’t ask what is left.”

Professor Suh makes you stand up and then pushes you down abruptly so that your breasts and tummy are lying on the desk and your ass is up in the air.

“And you can please yourself, when you read the Scarlet Letter, whether you accept what that sugary, blue-eyed little darling of a Hawthorne has to say for himself-” you continue to read, voice shaky and lacking any confidence.

He lifts your skirt up, touching you in all the right places in all the wrong ways. You are so terrified of what is happening but you are even more terrified of stopping to read.

Professor Suh spanks your ass harshly the second you pause briefly.

“N-no, it h-hurts,” you cry out.

“Read,” he orders you and you have no choice but to obey.

“They didn’t come for freedom. Or if they did, they sadly went back on themselves.”

Professor Suh takes your panties off and slides his fingers inside your pussy easily, as you are embarrassingly wet. He assaults you vigorously, expecting you to keep reading.

“They came largerly to get away. In the long run, away from themselves.”

“You skipped a few sentences.”

Damnit, how did he catch that?

You go back to the parts you missed but your reading continues to be full of mistakes. Eventually, Professor Suh grows tired of that and takes the book away from you.

“I’m not sure this method is helpful,” he sighs and starts unbuckling his belt. “Might have to find another way for you to acquire knowledge.”

“S-sir?” your voice trembles, though you already anticipate what is coming.

“Stuff you full of it,” he explains calmly and enters you from behind.

You want to scream but you are so afraid of someone hearing that you bite your hand.

Professor Suh seems to notice your concerns, moves your hand away and presses his own against your mouth.

“Shhh, it’s okay, angel, I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers gently while doing the opposite of what he’s saying.

He is so big that you feel as if he’s splitting you in half. Miraculously, you are still alive.

“You’re not good at focusing in my lectures anyway so I might as well give you something to remember during them,” he laughs. Oh, he’s so mean. You deserve it, though. For being so greedy. Not satisfied with a B. Stupid girl.

He removes his hand from your lips, trusting you not to make any loud noises.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Why ask now? He’s already gone this far…

“N-no, p-please,” you whimper helplessly.

“No as in stop or no as in keep going?”

You genuinely don’t know what the right answer is. If this is a test, then you’re surely failing.

Apparently, Professor Suh does not care what you have to say. Perhaps it’s your fault for being so slow…He keeps fucking you, going deeper inside of you than any man has ever been. Soon enough, he paints your walls white as if he’s an artist and not a literature professor.

You feel so dizzy, so brainless, so silly.

“Are you alive?” he asks, scooping you up into his big arms.

“N-no?” your response comes out with a questioning tone.

“Take all the time you need to recover,” he tells you thoughtfully.

“Can I ask you something, Professor Suh?”

“You should call me Johnny when we’re alone.”

“Oh, um…Johnny, what if someone had walked in?” you ask fearfully.

“Relax, sweetheart, I locked the door,” he laughs gently.

“Ah, that’s good.”

“Anything else you’re worried about?” Johnny plays with your breasts lazily as you sit in his lap.

“Um, yeah…”

“I’ll write you all A’s from now on if that’s what…”

“I don’t care about that anymore,” you confess teary-eyed. “Was this a one time thing for you, Johnny? Will I have to pretend nothing happened during your lectures?”

He caresses your hair just like how he did when this all started. For some reason, it doesn’t feel like the end.

“Oh, baby, this is just the beginning.”

The End

#nct smut #johnny suh smut #johnny x reader #nct #johnny #johnny smut #nct 127 smut #johnny suh x reader #nct johnny smut #nct imagines #johnny imagines #nct hard hours #nct scenarios #nct reader smut #writing

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Any tips for picking back up in the middle of a revision without having to start over? I wrote a book in 2019 and started a major revision in 2021. I printed the book and tore it apart with notes and switching timeline events/chapters around. Now I look at all the notes that are good advice and I would like to apply this progress to the story, but it's so overwhelming and jumbled up 😵‍💫

I've also recently picked up a back-burnered project I've been dreading, only to realize the notes I wrote solved 99% of the problems I had. The only thing holding me back was me, and it sounds like you're in the same boat.

Draft A New Outline - Having a way to track what changes you need to make is helpful, like using an Excel sheet (I know, but it does work) or color-coding changes. This will help so much, especially if you need to track big changes.

Go Through and Highlight What You Like - You may have to throw out whole chapters, but there's reasons you don't want to. Note what you really like - a turn of phrase, a character moment - and see if you can fit it in elsewhere. Always keep that cut folder or document to dig through later.

Set Micro Goals (And Keep Them!) - It's easier to dive into a new draft than to revise an old one. Chunk your goals in easy to accomplish ways. Instead of tackling a whole chapter a day, tackle a scene or a page. Instead of revising 800 words a day, narrow it down to 500 or 300. I make a big chart with my revision goals on it, and you're damn right I slap a cute Daiso sticker next to each goal accomplished. It really helps.

Work Backwards, Revise Forwards - If you have an all new ending with bigger and better stakes, figuring out how to get your plot there may require stepping back, chapter by chapter, to see what subplots you should add or scenes that need to be moved around.

However - and this is just what works for me - working toward a revised draft means starting the rewriting/revising process from Chapter One. That way I don't accidentally cover the same ground twice, and catch when I need to start a subplot sooner or rework descriptions I've used more than once.

Move Past The First 50 Pages - Don't get stuck at the beginning! It's so tempting to revise the first act to perfection, but you might need two or three more drafts to get to the real end of your story, and that might mean tossing all that hard work out. Keep going, and if you find yourself getting caught into fixing Chapter 3 when you're not sure Chapter 30 works, make a note and move on. Finishing your second draft is just as important as finishing your first.

Good luck and keep going!

#revising #revision #writing advice

[sgiandubh]

Fuck this shitshow...This is it.

Dear This Is It Anon,

You mean this, right?

Lest they would think as they all collectively do, with the shared single braincell they use across the street, we are hiding shite under the carpet. Not my method, Anon, off - and online.

So, ok. He was there. We were on perhaps the worst case scenario, probability-wise, on that one: 50/50, which is sort of mildly excruciating, right?

I can only encourage you to watch that clip, Anon. There are always nuances in the worst of bullshit situations. Yes, she is smiling. Briefly to T (this page founds a lie beyond ridiculous) and then to the winner:

Yes, she looks relaxed enough. But never forget she is an actress, after all, at a professional event. What did you expect her to do, sulk? I know, it happened before, when she was perhaps way less thrilled, but people change and they learn from their mistakes. Narrative wise, her being awkward around McElusive was a PR mistake that had to be corrected/properly retconned. This seems to be the case, now, with a more natural attitude.

But you can fumble around and manipulate only that much of a given situation. The giveaway, to me, in this is TMcG (the hour is solemn, no jokes around, please) - still the same unkempt, DGAF, 70s called outfit, plus looking really, really strange. Unlike many on our side, I shall not elaborate - there is no need to. Yet it is plain to see something is unwell, especially when compared to the cortisone prosperity of the last sighting. Don't get me wrong: I have no ill wish towards this person. I just can't help but notice something is amiss, in all this forced, calculated, propagandistic Joy.

I am also fully aware there are many mean eyes watching me from the shadows across the street, Anon. I mean, seriously, BIF?

Of course, that is your page and you can write what the hell you want. Choosing to quote me was a rather successful ambush. Remember, however (really LOL, always LOL): wars are not won with just tactics. Ok, you have a questionable edge on this one - a wasted battle.

Wars are won with good strategy and a synoptic, not fragmented vision (making a huge affair out of each and every single detail), of the state of play. You may be a decent tactician, perhaps, but you are a lousy strategist.

Oh, and to think you are planning a get together at the Paris Landcon, too, eh? How nice and how copy/paste of you, folks. I wonder what you expect, a fucking remake of West Side Story?

I could say good afternoon and even shake your hand anytime, BIF. But I bet you wouldn't. You're a tiny, hateful person with an overinflated ego, like that.

Sorry, Anon, for the rant. I tried to be as objective as I could, under biased circumstance and harsh scrutiny. I just hope this brought more clarity.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

hi, saw that your Sdv requests are open. I currently have my dogs sitting on my lap and had a thought. How would the sdv bachelors respond/react if the farmer said they didn't want kids and would rather adopt some dogs (or cats or any type of animal if I'm being serious) instead of having children.

Love your writing. Hope you have an amazing week.

Hey hey 👋 Thank you for your kind words and for the ask, dear anon! I'm glad you like my writing and I hope you like this hc too. Have a nice week as well 🫰💕

SDV bachelors react to the Farmer when they said they wanted to adopt a dog/cat/other pet instead of having a children:

_________________________________________

Shane doesn't see any problem with this at all because he had previously sworn to himself that he wouldn't have children. Especially since Shane has already tried a few years as a father figure and realised it's... hard. Don't get him wrong, Shane loves his niece, but with his depression and alcohol abuse previously, he knew he wasn't the best godfather for Jas. But he has plenty of experience with caring for chickens, so Shane brightened with joy when his spouse suggested having more chickens instead of kids. Charlie would have more friends!

Harvey had always dreamed of a happy family, but the local doctor had never specifically thought about having children. He came to the conclusion that he would be happy with Farmer in any scenario. And recently, a friend of Harvey's from Zuzu City was looking for owners for three orphaned stray kittens... So after a conversation with his spouse and mutual agreement, Harvey now have the three furballs who greet him with chorus of meowing, climb up his pyjama, demanding food, and make Harvey and Farmer smile every day.

Sebastian was all for it. He didn't want to have kids either, and didn't have any particular reason. He was afraid that Farmer would take this rather negatively. But since they are both on the same page, how about expand their terrarium and get more cute frogs? Sebastian still remembers that the Farmer named the rescued frog "their son," so "they're already parents to green babies." Sebby will be happy about the addition to their frog family (and won't forget to lightly tease his beloved spouse again).

Sam holds up the Farmer's dog. "But we already have a baby!" And the pooch barked back, wagging his tail happily. Well, they're glad that Sam reacted to their words very calmly. But later the guitarist himself admits that he doesn't see himself as a parent. Especially since they are both so young, and there's still a lot to do and explore. But he also would like to have another puppy. Sam even called Marnie to ask about adopting a puppy. Or maybe two? How about three? All in all, Sam, like Farmer, would be quite happy without children.

Elliott had long since chosen the right words and the right place, for, as it turned out, he himself had wanted to raise the matter with Farmer. The writer decided that since they were both almost entirely devoted to their work and hobbies, they would not be able to pay proper attention to the child, and it would be unfair to the baby. What was the writer's surprise when Farmer told him that they also wanted to discuss the possibility of being childfree. And also the idea of having another cat. Elliott was fine with it, believing that their first cat would like a new friend.

Alex was a little discouraged by Farmer's question, as he was thinking of just discussing with his spouse about children/adoption. Not that he wants kids right away without prior preparation, of course not. But after listening to Farmer's opinion, Alex couldn't disagree with their reasoning. Perhaps he just wanted the happy family life he didn't have as a child. But he was already happy with Farmer. And he'd be even more happy if Farmer agreed to have a couple puppies. Dusty would definitely enjoy the new company!

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv shane #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #sdv elliott #sdv alex #sdv headcanons #thanks for the ask! #Come to think of it... The only person whose childfree life be a major blow to marriage is Penny #Because for her - children and family are the meaning of life #While others in the dialogues (although they are glad that they became parents) have never insisted on it so much. Only Penny

[jsprnt]

Americano PT. 8 | Jude Bellingham x Reader

What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?

A/N: this one is a bit on the shorter side, but I promise next chapter will be juicy! 😉

W/C: 3.086

part seven

"Wait- why am I actually kind of bitter about this?"

I mumble, looking up at Luis. He turns around, moving his camera away to look at me.

"Bitter about what?" He asks, fidgeting with the settings of the device.

"They literally crap out money- but get a free BMW?" I question, folding my arms.

"Oh, please. Will you stop being such a negative person?"

He gives me a nasty look, his hand coming to grab my arm.

"Or go sit in the car..?" He adds, pointing behind me.

"No, it's too hot to sit in the car.." I complain, adjusting my sleeve.

"Why did you even follow me here in the first place?" He asks, raising his brows.

"I was done with my to-do list and didn't want to stay cooped up in the office.."

Not to mention to avoid the insanely annoying looks I had been receiving ever since those stupid rumors and photos had been out.

"Okay, just stay back and watch then.."

I watch him make cinematic shots of each individual model and car. My patience begins to thin when he's still busy with it twenty minutes later.

I pull my phone out of my pocket to keep myself busy. I carefully scroll through my Instagram explore page, ignoring the thousands of follower requests to my account.

The internet was very quick, so within hours of my face being online, people had found both my full name and social media accounts.

"y/n!"

I freeze, holding my phone against my chest, and turn in the direction the noise came from.

I make immediate eye contact with Valeria, her obnoxiously fake smile burning my eyes instantly.

"Yeah? Anything wrong with the shoot?" I ask, shoving my phone into my pocket.

"No, the players have just arrived- and it's a better look if you're off your phone and look interested."

I fight the urge to snort at her ridiculous comment, and just nod before I lose it.

"Sure, any reason you're here today? It's only for some short clips..”

I watch her take a step forward, a hand reaching up to her hip. She moves her neck in a weird way, staring at me for a moment.

"It's always good to see how my juniors work, and how close they are to the players is really something I like keeping an eye on.."

Oh- surprise, she was here for something stupid!

I was already over her snarky remarks, especially those insinuating a romantic relationship between Jude and me.

The thought only makes me want to gag.

I shiver at the cursed idea, noticing a few players already walking over to check out the new car they chose, and look back at Valeria.

"Well, I'm sure some of the guys really need your presence and knowledge. Please, go and join them.."

I instigate, hoping and wishing she goes to bother Toni instead.

For some reason, he could handle her bullshit really well.

"Oh, don't mind if I do.." She chuckles, immediately turning her back to me and walking away.

I sigh in relief, rubbing my nape to try to release some tension from my body.

I begin walking up to the cars myself, reading off every license plate to see which player got what model.

I stop at the car chosen by Aurélien, observing the details of the 'i4 eDrive35'.

« Très belle, non? » I hear him say. I nod, pursing my lips.

« Le couleur- noir est parfait.. » I compliment, stepping back to get a better view.

I open my mouth to say something else- but I'm startled by a loud car horn, it almost makes my eardrums explode. I shut my eyes tightly, not reacting fast enough to cover my ears properly.

"What the fuck.." I mumble, looking to my left. An obviously aggravated expression on my face, because who the hell thought that was a good idea?

“Jude! Get out of your mom’s car, please!” I exclaim, seeing him stand at the driver’s door.

The man couldn’t even drive, but got to choose a car for himself?

Not even that- he also chose the most expensive model worth more than a hundred thousand euros?

Life is so unfair.

“You’re standing in the way!” He exclaims, walking around to sit in the passenger seat. Another staff member comes over to drive him around the parking lot.

I give him a nasty look, stepping aside and looking back at Aurélien.

“Why don’t you join him?” He suggests, an obvious smirk on his face.

“What? Why would I do that?” I ask, raising my brows and folding my arms defensively.

“You know- nice car and fun drive..” He trails off, glancing at the moving car.

“I would feel like I’m in danger without him even being the driver..” I state, shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand.

He chuckles, as if to mock the fear for my safety. I shrug it off, looking behind me to see where Luis is.

“Come on- get in the car and I’ll get Luis to do a little video..” I usher, walking away to get Luis.

The entire shoot takes us about an hour before we’re finally done. I quickly bid farewell and thank fellow staff members for their hard work before jumping into my car.

I go to start my car, looking up to see where Luis is. I roll my windows down, letting some fresh air into the car, hoping he’ll be here quickly.

“No- it’s just annoying because I’m trying to do my job properly and I’m getting the craziest stares. Like, does having a conversation with someone mean we’re married with three kids and a chihuahua?!” I exclaim, looking at Amira on FaceTime.

“And you attended his match, and you wore his name on your shirt and spoke to his family and-"

I cut her off with a loud groan, rubbing my eyes in irritation.

“You’re the one who set me up!”

“I thought you already knew it was his shirt! Should I have worn Jude’s while you wore Trent’s?” She defends herself, a smirk forming on her lips.

I shake my head, dropping my pencil on the table.

I had been studying all day and had stopped the instant Amira called me.

“The way I can’t even get mad at anyone about this- ugh..” I complain, shifting in my chair.

“And those follow requests are so annoying..”

I grumble, totally aware of the fact that I had been complaining about literally every single thing and then some.

“Girl, if you set your account on public again and accept those followers..”

“What? I’m going to clout chase being that douche's fake girlfriend?”

“Obviously?”

“I have to take over my dad’s firm one day, and you want me to be known for dating my coworker?”

“Too late-"

I stop paying attention to what she’s saying when the front door opens, my gaze moving to see my dad walking in.

“I’m going to call you back later.” I mutter to Amira, waving at her until she hangs up.

I close my laptop, standing up to walk over to the door.

“Hey, dad- you’re late.” I say, grabbing his laptop bag off of him.

“I had a lot of work to review. Did you have dinner?” He asks, hanging his coat up on the coat rack.

“I had some of the food auntie Carmen made. You?”

“We all had dinner in the office. Everyone has been going home late these days.” He says, washing his hands in the kitchen sink before loosening his tie.

“With what?” I ask, setting his laptop bag on the table, prying into his business.

“Can’t say, but- don’t you think you need to tell me something?” He suddenly asks, turning to me.

I freeze, looking at him with wide eyes.

What the hell would I be hiding from him?

“Uh- no? I’m not sure what you’re talking about?” I state, scratching my nape in confusion.

“Are you sure?” He presses on, coming to hold onto my shoulders.

“I’m sure. What am I supposed to hide from you?” I ask, getting rather defensive, a frown forming in between my brows as I keep staring at him.

He notices my irritation, letting go of my shoulders and holding his hands up in surrender.

“Okay- I understand. Don’t get all angry at me..” He says, smiling.

“I’m not angry- just confused..”

“Forget I asked- How was work? How about you tell me about that instead?”

I purse my lips, looking down at my laptop.

“Alright, the players got new cars, so we had to do a shoot for BMW..” I mutter, fiddling with my notebook.

“You look so down, y/n. What? Are you jealous? I got you your new Audi less than two years ago..”

“What do you mean, dad? I love that car, would not exchange an Audi for a BMW- I have some car knowledge.” I state, my expression changing as I explain to him.

“That’s right! Come to me when you really want to change your car. I’ll call up some people I know.”

I make my way towards the printer, looking for the documents I had sent over to be copied a couple hours ago. Finding them, I quickly read them through to confirm the pages are complete, until I’m stopped by Hugo.

“Are you ready for El Classico week?” He asks, making a copy of something.

Most people, as in football fans, would say an El Classico is a match you shouldn’t miss. The long-standing rivalry between the two clubs was always interesting to watch, and I would definitely agree a hundred percent-

Only, if it didn’t mean we had to ensure our match posts, interviews, and statements were properly prepared and triple-checked and approved days leading up to the match.

Of course, I loved watching the game- but the way it exhausted literally everyone involved was no fun.

What made it harder was the fact that we had a whole Champions League match to worry about first. To sum it all up, no one was getting sleep for the next two weeks.

“Yeah, just really busy with preparations.” I reply, folding the corner of the documents.

“Good luck, we’ve all been having sleepless nights. It will be worth it in the end- you’ve experienced this before. Just keep on doing what you always do.”

I nod in acknowledgment, smiling at him.

“You’re right, we will put our best foot forward.” I give him a thumbs up, chuckling.

“Good- I’ll see you at lunch. Work hard!” He encourages, patting my shoulder before leaving with his printed papers.

I sigh in relief when he leaves, making my way up to my desk. I place the documents on the table, before running down to the pitch. Having to finish some last-minute recording of the match preparations.

I walk over to the pitch, training is already in full motion, and I notice Luis already there. I look around for any other staff members, only seeing the creepy guy I ran into weeks ago standing across the pitch.

The guy was a walking, real-life jumpscare at this point. I’d only run into him at random moments, and the way he’d look at me had my heart leaping into my throat.

“You’re late.” Luis complains, bringing me out of my thoughts, fiddling with a black cable.

“Did those two minutes kill you?” I ask, sighing, and look at the players who were training.

“Of boredom, yes..” He replies, and I notice the small- very slight compliment in his words. A smile forming on my face as I chuckle.

“We would’ve been absolutely fucked if Kepa didn’t save that one..” I mutter, insanely stressed, as I eye the scoreboard in the Lluís Companys Olympic Stadium. A temporary stadium FC Barcelona had been using for this season.

“Don’t say that- you have no trust in this team whatsoever..” Luis complains, looking up at me.

“Who will score?” I ask, we loved guessing who would score and assist goals during every match.

“Jude.” He immediately says, not hesitating one bit.

“No- I’m guessing Vinicius..” I say, eyes darting back to my laptop screen.

“I will be right- just watch..”

“It’s his second El Classico and his first in season one. What is he going-” I immediately stop talking when I notice a chance to score, my hands tangle into my shirt as I see how much space there is to score.

I gasp, and my jaw slacks open when Jude scores an absolute screamer, which I’d obviously never admit to him.

“I told you!” Luis screams, celebrating like it’s his birthday. I scoff, secretly happy we were put out of our 0-1 misery, and search for the draft I’m supposed to publish.

A couple minutes pass, it’s almost full time, and extra time is finally announced. The away side is full of Madridistas, all sitting on the edge of their seats until Luca kicks the ball towards Jude and GOAL!

The away side celebrates happily, with another El Classico win in our pocket. I quickly manage and do what I have to do, before we both get up to go back inside.

I was both delighted and annoyed at the fact that we won. Of course, it’s always amazing to win a match like this, especially when we were doing so well this season. Also because it’s Luca’s 500th match, and an assist is pretty amazing to pull off on a day like this.

The only thing making me have bitter feelings was the fact that I had to interview Jude today. Normally, Man Of The Match interviews with him were already horrific to experience. An elaborate interview with him, after I’d been avoiding him like the plague, wasn’t necessarily something I would want to do.

“Can you go first? I’ve got to pee really badly..” I say to Luis, placing my bag down and running towards the restroom. Finishing my business up quickly and washing my hands thoroughly.

I look around me for a bit, knowing that sometimes players would use these restrooms as well. I had heard about instances where the players of the opposite team had raged against our team’s staff members. Which definitely had me watching my back in moments like these.

I had interacted with some players of FC Barcelona, and they hadn’t been disrespectful so far.

Thus, I’m not too fazed when the door to the restroom opens. I look up as a sweaty and tired Ferran Tores walks in.

We make immediate eye contact, and I nod in greeting, shooting him a quick ‘hello' before pulling some paper towels from the dispenser to dry my hands.

He seems to be seething in anger, so I break eye contact, looking away.

“This is a staff bathroom, are you aware of that?”

He suddenly says, water splashing from the faucet as he begins washing his face.

“Sorry?” I question, wondering what he’s getting at.

“Not for girlfriends.” He mutters, turning the faucet off.

My face twists into one of confusion, the words throwing me for a loop. Seems like he notices, and he opens his mouth again.

“You’re Bellingham’s girl, aren’t you? This is the staff restroom.” He enunciates every single word as if I’m a kindergartner, it makes me freeze for a second.

I struggle to stop myself from reacting thoughtlessly, not knowing if I should be crying or laughing.

My hand reaches for my staff badge hanging from my neck, waving it in front of his face.

“Do I look like a girlfriend?” I ask, dropping my badge and stepping out before he can apologize.

Asshole, losing doesn’t give you the right to be so damn rude.

How could I even get rid of these stupid fucking rumors?

“Okay, smile!” I exclaim, holding Luis’s camera up to take a photo of the squad. With the happiness of winning an El Classico and the celebration of Luca's milestone came a lot of excitement and enthusiasm.

I hold back a chuckle at the sight of Aurélien laying on the floor, instructing some of them to move a bit for a better shot.

We take multiple photos together, staff members taking photos with the squad while I force them to stand in front of the camera.

“y/n, come here, and we’ll take a picture!” Antonio urges, snatching the camera off of me and pushing me to stand in front of the camera.

I feel myself being pushed, until I find myself almost pressing into Jude’s side.

I curse to myself, forcing an awkward smile as I pose next to everyone.

“What? Surely, you don’t think I bite?” Jude whispers, his arm dropping to his side.

“Please, shut up and pose. We still have that interview, so don’t start now..” I mutter between a clenched smile, pretending I’m not fazed.

I hear a soft chuckle, a mocking and breathy ‘sure’ leaving his mouth.

It gives me shivers down my spine, and I fight the urge to step on his shoe, focusing on posing instead.

This will be a long, long interview..

“You should’ve told me you’re leaving.” I mumble, mouth full of cereal and milk.

“Sorry, been so busy, didn’t even come to mind.” My dad says, walking around the house as he gets ready for work.

“Where is that blue tie I just got?” He shouts from his room.

“I ironed it! It’s in the bottom drawer!” I shout, scrolling through my messages.

“Got it!”

I hum, chugging the leftover milk in my bowl before standing up from the dining table.

“When are you going? Will you be gone for long?” I ask, watching him put the tie on in his bedroom.

“This weekend. It’s a crucial case, so I’ll be back when it’s totally over. Don’t get up to mischief. I know how you get when you’re home alone.” He points, giving me a stern look.

“Yeah, sure, I will plan a house party or two..” I joke, but it doesn’t land as he continues staring me down.

“Okay! I will be a responsible adult and call you or auntie Carmen when something happens..”

“Good, I’m leaving to get to work. Will you be back on time for dinner?” He says, grabbing his paperwork and laptop bag.

“Yeah, can we order in tonight?” I give him a pleading look, walking him out.

“You know I can’t deny my daughter happiness in the form of burgers and fries...”

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #jude bellingham imagine #real madrid fc #jude bellingham fanfic #footballer x reader #football imagines #football fanfic #football #football imagine #bellingham x reader #real madrid

[yourdakg]

Donation Found 2!

It took a little while longer than expected, but we finally found an appropriate donor for Brick! Brick was in desperate need of a donation. As the owner of a high quality gym and something of a fitness influencer, he was catching a lot of shit for not showing any empathy to his clientele or, in general, people who weren't in peak condition.

Maybe that's what scared some donors off, the sheer ego of having to maintain a physique like Brick's. But, by God, he paid the $325,000 to get his new body. Did he read the contract? No. But he insisted the customer is always right and he demanded action from the team at Turnaround Technologies.

Not that he could help how he looked, he was always athletic as a kid. Football, wrestling, water polo, gymnastics. He hit the weights hard as soon as high school started. And now he's a fitness enthusiast's wet dream. Let's remind everyone where Brick is starting this journey:

But thankfully we were able to find someone who fit the bill for Brick. This is someone who has the ego, the drive, and... honestly, a lot of the same toxic masculinity that Brick has. Just in a different form. So honestly it's a perfect match. Which we were relieved to find. After all, Brick doesn't fully understand the permanence of this yet. So let's take a look at our donor plate:

Meet Lemmy Chungus. A man who is almost permanently online, a moderator for the r/gayincel subreddit, a prolific user of 4chan, and a man with a subscription to 12 OnlyFans pages and PornHub Premium. He has an interesting take on why this exchange should work.

Donor Statement: This world has winners and losers. I am naturally born to be a dominant male, and it's becoming clear to me that Brick doesn't understand the role he is supposed to have. It's not fair that some buff fuckboy was deprived of the body he needs to match his true, inner self. It's obvious he wants this, so let's seal the deal and make this exhange.

I have to admit, we hear at Turnaround hadn't thought about it like that, adjusting two men into their, perhaps, more honest selves. It really is a public service. Both subjects are being stripped down, injected with serum, and placed in their uniforms as our technicians prepare the chambers.

Just prior to taking Brick's final "before" photo, he was informed that the contract had been signed, this medicine injected, and that his fate was sealed. Of course, we expected him to fight us a bit when told it was one way, one trip per lifetime, and permanent. Instead we were shocked that the young man started to cry.

Patient Statement: What do you mean permanent? What do you mean *sniff* 'new lot in life'? I don't understand why you're taking my designer underwear. I'll never wear it again? Wh-why not? I'll be fit again! What do you mean role adjustment? Huh? I dunno what a gaycel is. I don't spend a lot of time on the Internet. Whadda ya mean that's gonna be most of what I do now? *Sniffsob* I'm still an alpha. I *sniff* wanna change my mind. I don't understand. This body isn't legally mine anymore? I'm *sniff* I'll be a good boy, please!

So docile! He's really sliding into his new role quite well, and we're all very pleased. Brick was injected again when he saw the donor body, and his eyes almost went cross from shock. There will be a stiff financial penalty for requiring several staff members dragging his muscular body to the chamber.

The process was a difficult one. As the waves started to swing back and forth, Brick was grabbing his dick and squeezing his own pectorals as if to hold onto them. The beams and serums and molecule destabilization took days. It's like his body didn't want to assume a new role. But we held out hope that eventually the assault of our technology and pharmacology would win out and he would be shoved, unalterably, into his new body. So I'm happy to report the following:

As you can see, both men are now secured in their new bodies, roles, and lifestyles.

Patient Report: Ohhh God. It's hard to move, it's hard to move. I heard some fat guys had power, but he's... got none. I have none. Oh fuck. I'll get back in the gym and... look at him. What a slut, strutting around in that thong with a muscled up ass. Like he's some hotshot. He's not! Why does it make me so angry???

Donor Report: Chances are there a lot of other losers out there who have hot, buff bodies. Cute faces. Huge dicks. Guys who look like they should be on top, but know they're a beta bitch at heart. Stop being selfish. Ask for a donation today and let the real alphas assume their natural position.

#body swap #male body swap #mind swap #fit to fat #fat to fit #donationbodyswap #muscle theft #permanent

[spacebarbarianweird]

Dadstarion prompt:

Caretaker takes the kid to a fair, playground, restaurant or shopping, just spending the day and having fun together

Ha! Take that. Pure fluff. What could possibly go wrong??

Synopsis: Tiriel and Astarion take Alethaine to a fair.

Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, fluff, a snippet into the future

Another fluffy thing I have written! And there is also a snippet into the distant future with adult Tiri who hasn't inherited her mother's macabre nature!

Alethaine's age - 12-years-old

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Guide on How To Skin Monsters

Tiriel stops at the daggers’ stall. All of them look rather dull and Tiriel decides to search for something better for Astarion. Besides, he prefers to choose weapons for himself and Tiriel can always get something else – a book, jewelry, or a shirt. He always huffs when she brings him gifts, but she knows he is grateful for those little reminders of her care.

“Looking for something?” A merchant, a halfling woman, asks.

“Nothing in particular,” Tiriel says.

The halfling is definitely in the mood for talking and starts gossiping about a feud between two noble human houses, a serious plague “originated by giants” and someone’s wife cheating with an ork.

“Oh, and have you heard? There was a murder in Secomber! The whole family was slaughtered and by whom? A dhampir!”

Tiriel takes her eyes off the daggers.

“Yes! A half-vampire! Can you imagine sleeping with a vampire? But I think their mother was assaulted. Anyway, the dhampir grew up and slaughtered the whole family! Those half-undead are merciless cruel creatures, and they say there are so many of them!”

“Yeah… cruel monsters they are,” Tiriel mutters.

She heard of the slaughter, but there were no dhampirs or vampires involved. Just a young man possessed by a dryad. He was hanged a week later, but someone started spreading rumors his mother fucked a vampire and that’s why her child grew up so bloodthirsty. 

Tiriel feels pale hands hugging her waist from behind. Alethaine presses her face against her back – she is 12 but she is still cuddly as a little child.

“Oh, is this your daughter? Such an adorable little girl. How old is she?”

“Alethaine,” Tiriel touches her fingers.

“I am twelve,” she says, trying not to betray her fangs.

“Oh… I am sorry… didn’t notice she was an elf.” The merchant apologizes and then proceeds  to tell other gossip.  

“Have a nice day,” Tiriel says, taking Alethaine’s hand.

“You too! And beware the dhampirs!”

“Beware the dhampirs my ass,” Tiriel says, moving further away from the obnoxious halfling.

“I can bite her,” Alethaine suggests. She is twelve, but elves mature slower than humans and half-elves and Tiriel notices her daughter sometimes behaves like a younger child.

“No, we are not biting people we don't like.”

“Dad wouldn’t mind if I bit her!”

“Hm, good thing it’s daylight then!” Tiriel rubs Alethaine’s ear. She knows her daughter too well not to notice the merchant’s words upset her. 

Cruel merciless creatures? Alethaine cries her eyes out every time someone dies in the books she reads! Well, she mostly sympathizes with dragons and monsters – but also with orphan children, victims of arranged marriages and curses. 

And little dead animals. 

Little dead animals are a whole different story. It’s been three years, but Alethaine still feels sorry about an albino kitten killed by a stranger. The dhampir accidentally resurrected the pet and now Tiriel and Astarion also face the issue of raising a necromancer.

“Hey, don’t be sad!” Tiriel leans to a little dhampir. “Do you want anything?”

Alethaine doesn't answer. She stops by the book stall completely enchanted by a huge black volume covered in leather. 

How to Skin Monsters.

Aletaine immediately flips the pages, and Tiriel sees intricate and creepy pictures of the insides of different beasts and monsters. She’d fought many of them in her lifetime (beholders in the Underdark are still one of her worst memories), but never ever did she want to look at their remains, let alone study them.

“Hey, don’t touch it!'' The merchant tries to take the book away from Alethaine’s hands, but the dhampir keeps holding it with her iron grip. “I think this book is rather dark for a little lady like you.”

“Mum, look, the cover is made of human skin,” Alethaine casually says. “No. It’s half-elf actually.”

“No it isn’t!” The merchant protests. “It’s… wolfskin!”

Liar, Tiriel realizes. She has good perception skills, and the merchant lies. And the dhampir necromancer has already passed the verdict. 

Alethaine puts the book away and takes another one – a green volume with letters in Espruar. 

“Is it just a collection of stories or the real guide on Feywild?’” Alethaine asks. “People who have never messed with fey write all sorts of fairytale stuff about pink unicorns and fairies who grant wishes.” She opens the book which is written with trembling handwriting. “Oh, I see. Looks like a feverish nightmare. So the writer has been there.”

The book merchant looks at Tiriel with a facial expression she knows too well. 

What crypt did you find this child in?

“I have some ballads and traveler guides. Maybe...it is more for your age?” he asks

“Travelers guide on what places?”

“Icewind Dale, but it’s a rather uncomfortable read…”

“I’ve read about Icewind Dale,” suddenly something else attracts her attention and she points at a small book with a dragon on its cover. “Show me this!”

The merchant sighs in relief and reaches for the storybook. Tiriel looks at the pages – even though she still experiences issues with reading, she sees that it's just an adventure story about knights, princes, dragons, and treasure hunting.

Something her daughter stopped reading when she was five or six.

“I will take this too,” Alethaine declares.

“Eighty silver for all three,” the merchant says.

Too much, Tiriel thinks. Alethaine frowns but doesn’t try to bargain. For some reason, she is very shy when it comes to arguments.

“Thirty silver,” Tiriel intervenes. “And we are not telling anyone about the half-elf skin you’ve bound the book with.”

“It’s not made of anyone’s skin!”

“I can hear her screams,” Alethaine whispers, flipping the book pages. “They flayed her when she was still alive!”

The merchant gulps. Tiriel chuckles. So, this is true and the merchant knew it.

“All right. Thirty,” he mutters and Alethaine happily gives him the silver coins. 

Alethaine puts the books in her black bag and wishes the merchant good night. The man mutters something not appropriate for children’s ears.

“Did you catch the scent of the skin or it’s more like your necromancy skills?” Tiriel asks, taking her daughter’s hand as they stand by the stall with needles and threads. 

She shrugs. “I-I don’t know. Maybe both.”

“Do you know if Dad needs something to sew?” Tiriel still can’t really tell apart shades of the same color and all needles look the same to her. 

“Take the black threads,” Alethaine says, touching the samples of fabric. “He’s always out of them.”

Tiriel nods. She doesn’t know why and when Astarion decided to make all his daughter’s wardrobe black, but here they are. Alethaine got from black onesies to black dresses, from black nappies to black skirts, gloves, and coats. Only her shoes and boots aren’t made by Astarion - and they are as pitch dark as everything else.

A few hours later, at sunset, they sit on the grass outside the market. It’s a beautiful summer sunset and Tiriel adores the light. Alethaine sits on her traveling cape and takes out one of her new books. 

“Interesting?”

“Uh-um,” she nods, completely taken away.

Tiriel smiles to herself. She’s never been a stranger to violence and dark things – if you faint at the sight of a blood sacrifice, you won’t survive in the wilderness. But having a child like this takes everything to another level.

Death, dark arts, corpses – they have  a special appeal to Alethaine, the same one Tiriel feels towards fights.

The sun sets and Tiriel sits beside Alethaine. Darkvision allows her to see in gray colors and Tiriel sees a picture of the monster inside.

“All right, now I understand who all these people were who hired me to bring them certain parts of the beasts I killed.”

“Dad is coming,” she says. “Or another vampire, but I think Dad scared all of them away.”

Tiriel smiles. “Good thing vampires hate the presence of each other.” She stands up and approaches the edge of the hill. Yes, Alethaine is right – Astarion has left his daylight shelter in the nearby inn. She can see his silhouette from the distance – white hair and black armor she can’t mix with anyone else.

She waves to him and he quickens his steps. 

“Hello, darling,” he murmurs in her ear the moment he hugs her. Astarion pecks her cheek and Tiriel rubs his left ear.

“Dad! Look what I’ve bought!” 

Tiriel thinks Alethaine will show him the anatomy book, but, instead, she hands him the adventure story.

Astarion studies the first page, then another. Tiriel watches them carefully.

“I just don’t get it,” Alethaine admits. “Is it about how to enter the thieves’ guild or how to smuggle drugs?”

“None,” Astarion returns her the book. “It’s about how to find a job as a bounty hunter in Neverwinter.”

“Oh, I misread the symbols then,” Alethaine pouts.

“Wait, the book is in Thieves Cant?” Triel asks.

“Yes. Hidden deep under snotty stories,” Astarion answers. “And what are these two monstrosities?”

Alethaine proudly opens the anatomy book as Astarion studies the Feywild one. Tiriel barely prevents herself from laughing as she sees Astarion cringing at the pictures. Vampire or not, he saw so many disgusting and cruel things he hated looking at them. 

Then Alethaine yawns. 

“Let’s go home,” Tiriel says. It will take them till sunrise to return to Daggerlake. If they don't hurry they will need to set up a camp for the daylight - or leave Astarion behind which Tirel absolutely hates to do.

It’s not like it’s a big deal right now – thirty-two years since he gained his freedom, he has nothing to fear. More than that, Tiriel is sure there is simply no other monster in the area who could be a threat to Astarion. He is a vampire, an undead, a skilled rogue, a dangerous assassin.

But when he is alone, the nightmares slowly crawl back. The loneliness fuels his memories and there are so many of them. Thirty-two years are simply not enough. Astarion can handle that too – he’s learned to. But Tiriel doesn’t want him to face mental struggles if it can be avoided.

Alethaine walks in front of them and Tiriel takes Astarion’s hand in hers. They are her little family – everything she’s ever wished for. 

She looks at Astarion and notices his lips are squeezed and there is some anxiety in his eyes.

Hunger.

“Go for a hunt, we will wait for you”.

“Nonsense, let’s return home sooner.”

Tiriel doesn’t push it. They agreed years ago that Alethaine isn’t to see him dining on her mother (because it’s absolutely a sexual thing and must remain behind closed doors) and also that she shouldn’t see him feed on animals (because her dhamprisim might get awoken – blood will tempt her and they don’t want their daughter to become more a vampire then she already is).

Of course, she isn't stupid, she knows her father drinks blood. She often sees bite marks on Tiriel when she forgets to cover them – but the process remains out of sight.

It’s already sunrise when they reach Daggerlake and Astarion walks forward not to risk staying in the sun.

By the time they return home, Alethaine rushes upstairs to prepare for sleep. She sleeps a lot, even more than a human would – and Tiriel wonders how much dhampirism affects her sleeping habits.

“So, is the book really about how to be a mercenary?” Tiriel asks closing the door to the bedroom

Astarion has already put off his doublet and now sits on the bed watching Tiriel.

He waits.

“Yes. It was a guide on how to find people who will give her a job as a mercenary,” he slowly answers as if he had to concentrate on speaking. His eyes are focused on her neck. 

“And can she read this book?”

“She thought it was about smugglers and thieves. Her skills aren’t that good.”

Tiriel approaches Astarion and he tugs her closer, forcing her to sit on his lap.

Astarion is no longer a sweet caring elf – his predatory side is on the loose and he pierces her skin with his nails as the fangs are looking for the vein.

Tiriel wraps her hands around his neck and lets herself drown in painful pleasure. 

“Take as much as you need,” she murmurs. “I love you.”

She feels like falling into the warm dark void and, when she almost crosses the border of no return, the tender hands let her go and she finds herself on the bed with Astarion carefully applying a bandage on her fresh bite mark.

“Thank you,” he says, kissing her with his blood-stained lips.

“Will you stay with me when I sleep?”

“Of course,” he chuckles. “Besides Alethaine has occupied the bathroom – she isn't getting out any time soon”

“Oh… and I forgot…” Tiriel points at her bag. “I’ve bought you some black threads and new needles.”

Astarion kisses her cheek. “Such a caring and thoughtful wild girl. Now I have something to occupy myself with while you are asleep.” He takes her nightshirt from the floor. “Do you have anything in mind? I noticed you’ve ripped it.”

“Me? Astarion, you rip my clothes all the time!”

He unfolds the shirt showing the ripped collar. “Yeah, I agree. My fault. So, what patch do you want?”

“Maybe a dragon? A black one?”

Astarion covers her with a blanket – the one she uses when she sleeps alone – and sits on the floor with the shirt and the needle.

“I have a daughter who likes seeing monsters’ inside-outs and a wife who likes murdering monsters. Can someone in this family enjoy nice and cute things?” He pouts.

“Imagine Alethaine having a child who enjoys such things. She will pout then, ‘no one in her family has taste for macabre’”.

Astarion chuckles, and Tiriel wraps herself in the blanket. 

Safe. She feels safe. 

And loved.

**

Sewing has always helped Astarion to concentrate. It’s been centuries since he needed to shut the darkness up. Memories of his enslavement, memories of the misery have faded away and feel like a distant nightmare. 

But habits never truly go, and Astarion enjoys sewing patches and repairing clothes even though the old purpose of that process has long gone.

“You know, for someone who is an elf and was raised as an elf, you are very messy,” Astarion says looking at the ripped cape. It looks like it was chewed by a tarrasque.

“It’s not my fault! I was careful!” Tiri objects. She is making new arrows (as she lost the whole quiver while running from a particularly nasty behir in the Underdark the previous day).

Astarion chuckles. Tiri, his granddaughter, showed up at his place deep in the Fairgheight Range five years ago. Red-haired like her grandmother, she was eager to see the world beyond the Isle of Evermeet – and she still doesn’t show any desire neither to return to her parents nor leave him be and travel alone. 

“What patches do you want?” Astarion asks and takes his sewing kit from the traveling sack. 

“Well, I am an adult independent woman…” Tiri starts.

“You are thirty and you are an elf. You are basically a child.”

“Hm, you were a magistrate and mum would work for smugglers using her necromantic skills. Barely a child activity.”

“So?”

“I want a unicorn patch,” Tiri finally admits. “Or a butterfly. Don’t laugh, ar’o’su!”

“I don’t, damia,” Astarion finds white threads. “Besides, Alethaine has never been fond of cute and nice things.”

“Mum has her own idea of what is nice and what is cute,” Tiri touches a thin tiara on her hair. While all Tiri’s clothes are made according to Wood Elves traditions, her father’s ancestors, the tiara is pitch black and with a small skull in the center. It definitely belonged to Alethaine and then she just passed it to her only daughter. 

Tiri puts the new arrows on the ground and lies on her bedroll to reverie. Her drake, Aurix, immediately nestles on her chest like a cat.

Astarion casts a glance at his granddaughter. She has a certain similarity to Tiriel – and Astarion knows she would have loved her. But half-elves have such an offensive short life span in comparison with elves she had no chance to see little Tiri. At the same time, her facial features are her mother’s and sometimes she speaks like her. There is something else, something unfamiliar – Tiri’s father and their ancestors.

And she loves cute and nice things - and cringes at the sight of monsters’ inside-outs. Necromancy scares Tiri and she admits she’s never been to her mother’s dungeons just because of how uncanny it was for her.  And elves would often joke that their “witch-queen” just kidnapped Tiri because no way someone like Alethaine could give birth to such a sweet young woman. 

Astarion pierces the fabric with the needle.

“Well, so be it, a unicorn.”

-- Tag list

@tugoslovenka  

@herstxrgirl 

@herdarkestnightelegance  

@vixstarria 

@not-so-lost-after-all  

@marcynomercy  

@theearthsfinalconfession 

@starlight-ipomoea    

@micropoe10 

@astarion-imagine-archive  

@veillsar

@elora-the-slutty-songstress  

@fayeriess  

@lumienyx  

@tallymonster    

@caitlincat-95  

@tragedybunny  

@valeprati  

@lynnlovesthestars   

@marina-and-the-memes  

@waking-eyes   

@ayselluna  

@connorsui  

@asterordinary  

@darkarchangel96  

@locallegume  

@brainfullofhotsauce   

@coffeeanddonutscafe  

@my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen 

@queenofthespacesquids  

@ednaaa-04  

@dajeong

@wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #alethaine ancunin #astarion being a dad #dadstarion #astarion fluff #spacebarbarian fics #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion brainrot #astarion fanfic #tiriel of the sunset mountains #tiriel the barbarian #astarion x tiriel #oc tav: tiriel #dhampirs of the sword's coast #snippet of the future #elves #baldurs gate 3 astarion

[firexima]

YOUR ART IS INCREDIBLE DO YOU HAVE ANY TIPS /nf

Thanks so much!! I’m so grateful to hear you like my work :)

And boy oh boy I could go oooon and on and on about tips, like genuinely pages upon pages or talking hours upon hours but I’ll share a few things!

1: Put your drawing in black and white to check the values

TLDR: It helps check that your drawings are clear and helps figure out what needs to be brighter/darker.

-> First if all, I want to explain what value is. Value is how bright or dark a color is. Every color has value even when fully saturated and those values change depending on the color. Red for example is naturally darker in value than yellow but naturally brighter in value than blue. You want to be aware and therefore deliberate with how you use value in your art.

Push your darks and push your lights— unless there’s a deliberate reason as to why you don’t want to, you want a fairly large range in values: that means that if you were to put your drawing in black and white only, you would be able to see a large range of greys going from very dark to very bright, black to mid/light grey, mid/dark grey to white depending on the mood of your drawing.

This helps to give your art more depth and volume and generally helps to read better and is nice to look at. When you’re creating art it can be difficult to keep track of everything, so by putting your art in black and white you are only focusing on value and it helps you see what’s getting lost and what you can push and pull more to make brighter or darker.

You can do this by either taking a picture of your drawing and editing it in your camera roll to remove the saturation or set it in one of the black and white filters or if you’re working digitally you can create a new layer above all the ones you already have, fill it with black/white/grey and set the layer to “color”. With your layer, you can turn it on and off whenever you want

2: Do multiple small thumbnails!

TLDR: It helps pushing yourself to brainstorm other options and it helps finding out if your composition works before you spend time on it.

-> Obviously not a complete necessity whatsoever and I don’t even do this with all my drawings especially if they’re just to have fun and de-stress but if you have an idea for a drawing and you really want it to get to its full potential, sitting down and forcing yourself to do more than one sketch can be really great! It doesn’t have to be good at all, just enough for you to know what it is supposed to be.

Often when I come up with an idea I’m excited about I already have a vision for how I want to do it but making myself brainstorm other ways I could draw the same idea and forcing myself to make them noticeably different has helped me come up with some of my proudest works! You are deliberately considering all options for how you can execute the same thing and realizing ways you could do it that you hadn’t initially thought of. In my experience by doing this I realize that the first idea I thought of isn’t always the best possible one or I merge it with another one and therefore end up making it better. (This can also be applied to other creative processes)

Another good thing about it though, is it helps focus on just the composition. Again, there’s a lot of things that go into making an art piece so isolating just the composition helps you figure out a plan and checking to see that it looks good before you spend hours and hours on it. It’s as if you were to build a house and spend days of work and loads of money on making it beautiful but it isn’t structurally sound and falls apart. You don’t want to spend so much of your time on all the details only to realize it just doesn’t feel right all because the composition itself is off.

3: Remember to have fun and don’t be discouraged!

-> I know it’s something nearly everyone says and at first I kind of always ignored it because it felt like it was something people just added to be nice but it is just as important as anything else. Art takes so much time, even just doing a single piece— let alone time to keep building up your skills over time. We don’t have unlimited time, and what you choose to spend your time on matters. Honing your craft and even wanting tips to help you improve means you care. The reason why is one of the most important things of all, don’t lose sight of that. Whether it’s to have fun, to decompress, to express yourself, to depict something you care about— whatever it may be: remember that and don’t beat yourself up or stress yourself out if you aren’t where you want to be or stressing yourself out to meet certain expectations. It really does impact both your art and your learning process whether you’re having a good time or not.

A few last quick tips:

- Don’t be afraid to start over or completely redo something that isn’t working!

- When drawing from reference, trust what you see and not what you know! Drawing what your eyes are telling you is there instead of what your brain thinks should be there will usually always give you better results.

- Step back from/Zoom out of a piece regularly! It also helps to squint your eyes.

- It’s great to make a folder of pieces/artists/pictures that inspire you!

- When studying other people’s art, be aware that they can also make mistakes so that you don’t repeat those.

- You don’t have to take every tip/rule by heart, as long as you understand why they’re there, you can also deliberately choose to go against it if it enhances what you want to do with your piece. Most rules artists teach can be broken, just make sure it’s a deliberate choice to not do those things and why you’re choosing to do that instead of just not knowing about it!

Hopefully these are helpful! I have way more but this is already long enough as is. I wish you the best! <3

#this is so much longer than I meant it to be #I am so sorry for anyone reading #I doubt anyone will read the entire thing #but hopefully this makes sense !!

[rauchendesgnu]

"Would you like a seat?" Gerry asks over his shoulder as Sam follows him deeper into the apartment. "Only if it isn't a bother," Sam says despite the throbbing in his hip. "Oh, it's no problem at all. Let me just--" The young goth rushes ahead into some sort of studio, clearly expecting Sam to follow. Every spot in the room is either occupied with a painting, or painted on, or splattered, or filled with utensils, tools, and other stuff that is necessary for art. Gerry sweeps a pile of pencil sketches from a chair and offers it to Sam, who sits gratefully, eyes still wandering over the atelier in overwhelmed amazement. "I can make some tea?" Gerry offers. "Oh," Sam says with an awkward smile. "I'm more one for coffee." "Do you mind if I make one for myself, then?" "No, go ahead." The sounds of an electric kettle being filled and switched on reaches Sam, whose eyes fall onto the sketches. He leans a bit closer to get a better look. It's not very polite, to go snooping into the drawings of a potential friend, but he can't help himself. He's always been so damn curious. The first sketch shows a short, thin man with dark hair that is starting to go grey despite his young but tired face. His brown skin is covered in scars and his eyes are glowing. Sam blinks, and for a second he feels like the drawing blinks back at him. He quickly moves the sketch to the bottom of the stack and shakes his head. It's the sleep deprivation. He's not starting to see movement in traditional sketches. The next few sketches show the same man, over and over again, eyes blazing, mouth set in a thin line, exhaustion weighing down a face that could once have been called handsome. He's not the only one, though. There's a second man, tall and broad, with red hair and a dusting of freckles on his nose and cheeks. He's barely recognisable in the fog that surrounds him that gets thicker with every new sketch Sam discovers. The last one is that of a man who wouldn't have looked out of place in Pride and Prejudice (as written by Cassandra Austen), with a neatly pressed collar and a cravat, as well as jewellery in the form of eyes. His grey eyes are intense, piercing Sam through the page. Sam is about to put the sketches back when a piece of paper slips, and his heart stops. The woman on the paper is a detailed pencil drawing of Celia. It's almost scary how perfect that sketch catches her likeness. Surely Gerry would have needed more than one look at her to draw her so realistically? Sam fights the wave of jealousy that wants to overtake him. It's none of his business who Celia meets in her free time. There is only that one sketch of her, and as Sam finds the last page, he's a bit disappointed to discover that there is just two sentences scribbled in nearly illegible handwriting.

The maze is sharp on my mind. The angles cut me when I try to think.

They are underlined with so much force that the pencil nearly broke through the paper. In the kitchen, the kettle turns off, and Sam quickly places the pages back in order. "Gerry," he says when his host returns, mug of tea in hand, "who are these people you sketched?" Gerry glances over his shoulder, then shrugs. "Now that you say it...I have no idea. These are from a while ago. Why, did I accidentally draw someone you know?" He says it with a smile, like it's a joke between artists. Did I accidentally draw you? Sam's gaze drifts back over the man with the glowing eyes. "I don't know," he says softly. "I don't know."

#the magnus protocol #tmagp fanfic #sam khalid #gerry keay #gerry delano #disabled character #tmagp #tma episode 65: binary #tmagp chester #tmagp norris #martin blackwood #jonah magnus #jonathan sims #jmj error #my writing #ficlet #alternate history

[writingquestionsanswered]

Ok I have a bit of a specific question about pacing. When Im writing, the story flows naturally enough but when im rereading it, it feels too choppy (?) Like, the scenes feel like they’re happening too fast one after the other, the sentences feel too disjointed. Ik i shouldn’t be too harsh on my first drafts, but I’m not entirely sure how to edit it either. Thanks so much, you’re blog is super helpful btw!! <33

(Not me rereading this ask to see if it’s badly paced XD)

Struggling with 1st Draft Pacing

Scenes happen one after the other... that's how scenes work. :) So, that in and of itself isn't an issue. But if you find every single one of your scenes are consistently long, short, or otherwise the same length, it might be an issue.

Ultimately, all that matters is that each scene does the work it needs to do. Scenes are sort of like mini stories. They should have a clear beginning, middle, and end. They should create or advance conflict/story elements, develop characters or setting/world, deliver important information such as back story or off-page events, or some combination of the above.

So, looking at each of your scenes, ask yourself the following questions:

-- What is the character trying to accomplish in this scene, and how does that move the story forward or give the reader critical information?

-- What is my goal for this scene as a writer? What do I want the reader to take away from this scene as they head into the next scene?

-- What is the central conflict of this scene? Or in other words, what are the opposing elements that create a question for the reader? (For example, which belief will the character choose to stick with? Who will win the argument or fight? Will the character get the thing they're after? What will the character do since a thing is being denied to them?)

-- What would happen if you removed this scene from the story? Would the plot still work? Would the reader still know what they need to know in order to understand the story?

Your answers to these questions will help you better understand whether or not the scene could be doing more, what more it could be doing, and maybe even whether or not the scene can be cut.

Once you make sure you're writing strong, necessary scenes that pull their weight in the story, you should find that your pacing improves. You may still end up needing to tweak the pacing (see: Exposition, Action, and Dialogue, and How to Pace Your Story; Slowing the Pace within a Chapter, and Pacing Feels Too Fast for more help.)

Happy writing!

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[not-goldy]

What do you think about this? Almost 1000 Armys did not know the most touching and important moment that Jimin shared with us. If they were Jimin Solos, would the voting result be like this? I don't sympathize with them, but I think their presence is very important in Jimin's career, especially at this stage . and all the members should have their strong solo Fandom To carry their solo career .

Sigh

Not gonna lie at this phase in my life I hate PJMs. all of them won't leave a single one of them out.

I'd shoot to kill if heard them wrestling in the dark.

And I think at this stage in Jimin's life he doesn't need the toxicity and the constant in house fighting and if that's all they can bring to the table then Jimin is better off without them.

Also, Jimin's actual fans show up when the need arise. They are not either Army or Solos. No. A lot of the support he gets comes from those silent stans with dormant social media accounts who barely say anything on the internet or partake in these polls- but let Jimin put out any content or show up anywhere. I call them the deep pocket Jims DPJ. deep Park Jimins if you will. They show up with the big guns to his knife fights sell him out spend so much on him like damn go off.

Those fans I like. Hell I will kiss their ass and polish their shoe part their ass while they fart 🤣

I don't know whether he needs those toxics.

He does have plans and goals however and I don't care if I sound crazy for saying this, but Jungkook is at the heart of those plans.

Everything he's done from day one to this day is to try to merge his fans and his. And if they not catching his drift they never will. Off with their heads.

So yea, if he has independent plans that is not intertwined with his band or Jungkook then sure he needs to cultivate a solo fanbase. A purely solo fanbase. Which is not possible. Those solos would always have other celebs they stan besides Jimin even if those idols aren't necessarily or remotely connected to Jimin.

But I hate solos for now. A. They are not really solos they just assholes 🙄

Pjms and JKks are like two toxic annoying intolerable distant cousins you want to shove to the ground each time you see them.

Just for no reason, stuff their face with dirt and feed them to the coyotes.

On that particular Jimin moment- it traumatized me and affected my mental health so bad I had to work through it with my therapists.

People have no idea how mentally impactful his words are.

I bought into this narrative that he struggled the most and was at his worst ever when he was running around bench pressing and carrying weights to look hypermasculine.

Everyone knows this, I had a mental breakdown on the internet when a few years ago he started working out again. To me it felt as if he was experiencing all that he'd experienced in the past all over again. When I tell you it wasn't a fun moment for me.

It's the only moment in my life I thought of unstanning Jimin. It felt like a betrayal to others but I needed to detach from his trauma so bad.

It took therapy for me to understand how enmeshed i was and how much I had overly empathized with him to the point I was taking on his pain and struggles and trauma without knowing.

It's also the period I learned how dangerous parasocial relationships are.

I get that sharing this vulnerable moments with us helps them bond with us and that's what they think when they share these things but some of us are more susceptible than others and it's reckless of them to dump such heavy stuff on us traumatize us with it and then turn around and indulge in those triggering activities for the sports of it without warning ⚠️

So yea, that moment is burned in my memory.

How can I forget.

And I don't know if you've been following the discussions on my page lately.

But these reckless parasocial attachments some of these idols inadvertently foster is to me as problematic and perhaps even more so than an Idol broadcasting a live naked or calling his stans his girlfriends.

Like I said, there are certain uncomfortable conversations these solos aren't prepared to have about their faves. It's easier to point a hand at someone you don't like and say this shit you do is questionable. What's most challenging is looking inside and putting yourself or someone you love on the same scale.

And of course some of us are more comfortable with doing that because we like to turn everything into an intellectual discourse but for the annoying immature stans you can't reason with them beyond their feelings.

I hear you Anon. But today is not the day I defend any solo.

I can stan Jimin all on my own with Jungkook behind me🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃