#very different things! one of them is still art school!
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how long have you been drawing for ? your art seems so confident (that seems mean but it’s a compliment i promise) like your strokes and stuff just seem so… educated? like you don’t need to sketch you already know what you want to do ?
my whole life!!!!! ive been drawing since i was a little childdddd like the second i could hold a pencil i was drawing! i got put into art classes very young as well cause i liked to draw so much. i started formal classes at like? 6/7 years old probably? and i did some form of either art class at school, out of school, or some combination from that age until i was an adult. So i've had a decent amount of formal training as a kid and have always just genuinely loved drawing so on top of that i was always drawing for fun too.
I think things really shifted for me when I was like?? 21/22 ish and i got very very into portraiture specifically- i really honed a lot of my skills in that department and honestly just became so obsessed with form. I would draw so much realism, tons of studies, i loved to work backwards- draw the shape/form of a thing first, usually in paint or marker, and then add the lines/details on top. i generally during this time also completely stopped working in any erasable mediums. i became and still am to this day a pens only artist, i cant stand to draw with a pencil.
Doing this gave me what i think is one of the best skills to have as an illustrator- a very confident stroke. Being able to attack a piece, not be afraid of the marks you make, working with what you have rather than fussing until you think it's perfect, made my work much more striking and made me a lot more comfortable with messing up and figuring out a way to fix it. or even start over.
i think generally heavily and meticulously sketching in pencil is what leads a lot of artists to tons of frustration. the linework never looks as good as the sketch, you sketched for hours and only now you realized something is off, takes forever to go back, etc etc etc. I find it to often be very demoralizing- so i always advise just to get as comfortable as you can with as few lines as possible. focusing on FORM and PROPORTION rather than the skeleton method or going over with tiny little pencil strokes. everyone has different methods that work best for them, but that was one thing i taught myself that really changed art for me!
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seeing how some greens act like rhaenyra being groomed by her uncle, and subsequently being unable to let go of him, is HER personal failure turned me into a rhaenyra extremist when i simply enjoyed her character beforehand.
im really glad you're speaking about it because even though it's fiction, it still perpetuates a very dangerous rhetoric
wait this gives me an excuse to ramble, pls excuse me if i phrase things maybe a little crassly here, it’s a delicate topic i’m speaking indelicately about but also, i think i should be allowed bc [redacted] BUT-
obviously i don’t like, love, some of the changes to the show but i think the first half does a great job of setting it up to where you can see both alicent and rhaenyra are surrounded exclusively by much older men who want to fuck them, and have just no way of knowing who is being genuine with them. because no one is really! so you have episode 4, where alicent is sleeping in a room with pornographic art on the wall and being called to her husband’s bed and she can’t say no, and he’s not going to do anything to make the whole thing even marginally easier for her. and then you have rhaenyra, pulled from her bed by her uncle to a brothel, and she’s completely exposed, and she’s experiencing new things, and he’s purposefully trying to make this feel good but also overwhelming for her, then abandons her drunk & confused & half naked. this is The Same Thing - they’re both being used and manipulated by a much older man, but because that manipulation looks different, they react different. but it’s still manipulation.
yes, the type of abuse is different when it’s like, your ugly ancient grandpa grooming you vs a handsome 30 year old stranger you met online that you tell all your high school friends is your boyfriend, but ultimately, both the grandpa and the 30 year old boyfriend are abusers but more importantly, the granddaughter and the high schooler are both victims!!! i think a lot of people when analyzing this whole thing, will pin daemon as a groomer but then completely forget that this also makes rhaenyra a victim. some people will even hee hee haw haw over it because “oh your feminist icon would rather marry her groomer uncle than her gay cousin in the book” DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF. could it possibly be that rhaenyra prefers daemon to laenor because daemon has manipulated her into thinking she is only free with him? she is only safe with him?? could it possibly be that he has been giving her gifts and taking physical liberties with her for her whole life, and being the Good Cop, Sweet Confidant to her parents Bad Cop her whole life, that she feels taken in by him because he is all she knows???? in the same vein that alicent just swallows all the poison and bullshit from otto because that’s her father, and his protection is all she knows????
honestly part of like ~the discourse~ that’s most frustrating is that most greens just refuse to see rhaenyra’s pov or see that she’s also a grooming victim grasping for power to protect her own children, again just like alicent, but on the flip side, most of the analysis from the blacks side is like “if you think nyra is a victim of grooming you are just as bad as the people calling her a whore for having children out of wedlock” and like, how do you even engage with that. with either of those opinions. you can’t wksjd so if youre, ya know, like a normal fucking person who can see how both girls are being manipulated, but you have like a fondness for nyra specifically, it’s just constant bad takes. there’s nowhere to go to escape the bad takes.
i thought we had already hashed out this idea that being aware or unaware of your victimhood doesn’t suddenly mean you’re not being oppressed during the main show with arya and sansa but no, we’ve actually just taken this exact same annoying fandom discourse about which teenage girl is dealing with being abused in the most acceptable way and made it a thousand times worse.
#and like the ~analysis~ side will be like ‘nyra is a dumb bitch for trusting daemon’ but if you said that about ali and larys you’d get shot#and i’m not even exaggerating the way people talk about her it’s always this ‘she should have known better’ HOW#if u get that ali couldn’t have ever known better when it comes to her own kids. why does this not apply to nyra.#perhaps………….it is bc you cannot concieve of her as anything but the aggressor.#asks#anons
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pspsps people who did/are doing an mlis. what bachelors degree did you do and what are some of the degrees you know other people in your program did? I am trying to figure out. college stuff (also feel free to tell me any other experiences/advice you have related to an mlis!)
#master of library and information science#master of library science#library science#library#banana made a post#HELP.#i was gonna do a photography degree just bc its the one thing i was like#yeah i like this enough to be able to do four years of it#but now im like. do i really want to do four years of art school lmao#trying 2 figure out options#im possibly considering a management degree or a printmaking degree#very different things! one of them is still art school!#society if i could do a statistics-focused math degree w/o having to do all the other math i dislike
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Creator Spotlight: @camberdraws
Hello! My name is Camber (any pronouns), and I’m a mixed media illustrator located in the southwestern United States. I love drawing everything, but I have a special interest in depicting strange creatures and environments, often accompanied by abstract imagery and mark-making. Professionally, I’ve worked creating concept art and 2D assets for museum exhibits, but currently, I am engaged full-time as a software developer and make standalone illustrations in my free time. I’ve been posting art on Tumblr since I was a teenager, and the site has been very welcoming towards my work to this very day!
Check out Camber’s interview below!
Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?
I’ve had an interest in drawing since I was barely sentient, but at thirteen years old I decided to become “serious” about art. I was all about reading tutorials and doing a ton of studies. I would tote my heavy instructional art books to school every single day (my poor back!) Despite all this, I decided to forgo art school in favor of a bachelor’s degree in Computer Science at my local college. Alongside my major, I received a minor in Art Studio with a specialization in fine art, which totally changed my views on creating artwork and drastically changed my style.
How has your style developed over the years?
As mentioned previously, my style did a 180 after I studied under some very skilled fine art professors! As a kid, my drawings were very realism-heavy and inspired by video game concept art. I mostly worked digitally, too. During college, I was thrown for a loop when we were instructed to do strange things like, for example, make a bunch of marks on paper using pastel, WITHOUT looking, and then turn said marks into a finished piece of art! I quickly and deeply fell in love with abstract work, and especially appreciated images that are not easily parsed by the viewer. Since then, I’ve made it my goal to combine abstract mark-making with more representational subject matter.
What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?
Hmmm, one habit I really enjoy as an artist is strictly tracking the amount of time I spend drawing! I currently work a full-time job wholly unrelated to art, so I have to be careful with my time if I want to spend enough hours drawing each week. I created a spreadsheet that allows you to enter the amount of minutes you’ve drawn each day and calculate how much drawing time you still need to reach your weekly goal (I aim for 20 hours a week.) Having such a clear, numbers-based objective keeps me motivated to work like nothing else!
Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?
I know this is a common inspiration, but Hayao Miyazaki’s work has been rewiring my neurons since I was a child. Seemingly all of my artistic interests can be summed up by the movie Princess Mononoke: it has strange/abstract creature designs, a strong focus on nature and environmental storytelling, and a mix of dark and hopeful themes. Additionally, I’ve been deeply inspired by video game series such as Zelda, Okami, Pikmin, and Dark Souls. But arguably, none of these have influenced me more than Pokemon! I’ve been drawing Pokemon since I could barely hold a pencil, and I haven’t stopped since! I believe my love of designing creatures originated with my endless deluge of Pokemon fanart during my childhood.
What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
I’ve always been fascinated by 3D mediums and am so tempted to try them out! Whether that’s 3D models created digitally or sculptures made from clay, I profoundly admire artists who have this skill. Oftentimes, it feels like I don’t have time to delve into a totally different artistic paradigm. However, I feel very strongly that learning new skills can enrich your current work. I should take that advice and someday give 3D mediums a shot!
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
I am in the process of creating an art book (a dream of mine!) and have been executing smaller drawings of concepts I find interesting from both a visual and storytelling standpoint. A recent drawing for said book is that of a snail made of ink with an ink bottle as a shell, and it went absolutely viral! I’ve never had an experience like this as an artist before and it has been spectacular! I was able to open a shop using my newly acquired art printer and sell many prints of my snail. Creating something original, directly stemming from my interests, and having that resonate with so many people has been unreal. I couldn’t ask for more as an artist!
What advice would you give to younger you about making art that’s personal or truthful to your own experiences?
I would tell my younger self to chill out and experiment more! I was so caught up in the idea that I needed to have a realistic style to be considered “good.” I also believed that technical skill was the only measure of how worthy my art was. That’s not to say technical skill doesn’t matter, but I now firmly believe the creativity and voice of your ideas far outweigh the skill of execution in terms of importance. Technical skills should elevate ideas, not the other way around. Once I began to revel in strange ideas and stories for my work, depicted oftentimes in odd styles or mediums, I truly found my voice as an artist.
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
My peers here on Tumblr inspire me more than anything! Sharing my work with contemporaries and giving each other support brings me joy like no other, and keeps me motivated to continue creating. I wouldn’t be where I am today without them! @beetlestench, @theogm-art, @trustyalt, @ratwednesday, @phantom-nisnow, @svltart, @mintsdraws, @mothhh-hh, @jupiterweathers, @thesewispsofsmoke, @picoffee, @fetchiko, @kaisei-ink, and @pine-niidles just to name only a few!
Thanks for stopping by, Camber! If you haven’t seen their Meet the Artist piece, check it out here. For more of Camber’s work, follow their Tumblr, @camberdraws!
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Forced | Charles Leclerc ver.
WC: 16.2K (It started as a 5K word and then I said okay 10K and things went from there)
Charles x reader
Summery: Being threatened and forced into a marriage wasn’t on your mind when you got invited to dinner by your parents.
Warnings: Cursing, forced marriage, bad parents, alcoholic parent, bad childhood, brief suicidal thoughts, half edited. tell me if I missed anything.
A.N: If you’ve read this before, no you haven’t I tried to save it to my drafts while I was at my part time job, and it showed network familiar fast-forward 2 hours and I don’t find it in my drafts, but I see it posted, It wasn’t all uploaded yet.
A/N2: If there has been a one shot I was nervous about positing, it’s this one. So many ups and downs, at one moment I thought about scrapping it but this idea has been in my mind for so long. I feel like I could’ve added so much and I have to remind myself this is a one shot and not a multiple parts series. CARLOS ver. IS COMING, not this week but I’ll start it once I have an outline.(send me ideas if you have any)
Masterlist
In the heart of Monaco, where all the rich, glitz and glamorous people live, the sun dips below the horizon casting a golden hue over the famous skyline of Monaco. The city is intertwined with the rich sport of Formula One. Many of the world's richest people live there, and so does your family. The famous Italian Morelli family, the rich of the rich. Generational wealth, very old money.
The family has been close with the Ferrari family for decades, and so Morelli has invested in the company very early on and has been receiving the benefits for years now. All of the children of the Morelli are born loving everything about cars and racing cars. However the new generation, not so much, they're straying from the driving and going into different ventures, trying different things. Yourself included, maybe when you were young but as you got older you never found yourself interested in cars or any of Ferraris teams in any motorsport, the last time you were at a race was when you were 10 and your parents had to force you to go, after that your older brothers stopped going so you said why can't I stay like them and that was that.
You defied your parents when you went to your choice of university, if it wasn't for you grandfather they would've cut you off, and so you went to art school and graduated with honours, but your parents still weren't there. Your grandfather passed away a few months later making your dad the head of the family.
Since then you've stayed in Italy after going and finishing university there, just the thought about going back to Monaco was out of the question, you have only stayed there during breaks from boarding school in Switzerland, both never feeling like home to you.
However here you are on a plane to Monaco for a mandatory family gathering, apparently something big is happening. the Youngest daughter to the family, the polite and elegant girl of the family, the least disappointment to your parents.
Your father had a driver waiting for you at the airport, not bothering to come himself even though it's been a couple of years since you saw him. Nothing has changed.
Getting ‘home’ yet again no one greeted you at the door but the maid who took your bag to your bedroom, you sighed and walked into the house looking for any sign of your family. You didn’t have to look for long, you found your mother on the balcony nursing a glass of some alcoholic drink, it was just a little after noon, a sight that you’re used to since you were young, your mum always being borderline alcoholic. Your guess is that she turned to the drinks to cope with living with your father, whom she chose to stay with for the glitz and the glamour of being a Morelli.
”Mother.” You greeted her, her head snapped to look at you, some of the liquid spilling as she placed her drink down and stood up, coming up to you with very wide arms pulling you in for a hug, your arms lay limp by your side for a moment before you returned the hug with one arm.
”Oh my baby, I didn’t know when you’d be in.” She said and pulled back to look at you.
”I sent you the details.” You mutter and she waves her hand waving you off.
”Come, come sit down, want a drink?” she asked, walking over to the drinks set on the side, you grimace and shake your head.
”No thanks, it’s a bit early for me.” You sit down across from her and look at the view, the view from the penthouse overlooking the pier, as much as you don't like Monaco the views there are breathtaking. “Where’s father?”
”He’s in a meeting.” She mutters and sips from her drink.
”It’s the weekend.” You reply but she just shrugs, unless he changed, your father never had work on the weekends, he hated them, he hated working anyways so for him to do so is something out of character.
”Your brothers just went out, sadly they didn’t come with any of their children.” Your mum pouted and you rolled your eyes, your mum is so out of touch with everything regarding her family, or anything in general, she acts so oblivious to the dynamic of the family, how all of her children live in other countries have their businesses and don’t want to be associated with the family name, the name she fought so hard to have.
”Okay, well, I’m going to my room to change.” You say and walk off leaving your mum on the balcony, texting your brothers in the group chat that you arrived, you laid down on your bed and scrolled through social media to pass time, you didn’t want to be here at all.
Once your brothers came, they made it to your room, the eldest taking the spot beside you on the bed and the second taking the sofa. It’s been a couple months since you saw them, but they’ve been texting you every now and then. The eldest, Matteo, is 8 years older than you, the second, Marco, is 6 years older, and you’re all at the age now where this difference isn’t that big.
You’ve all lounged around, your laughter ringing in the otherwise silent house. When the sun sat down you were called by the maids for the anticipated dinner. Hopefully everything will go smoothly and you'll be out of Monaco by tomorrow night. When you got to the dining room your father still wasn’t present, but you each took your place at the dinner table, with your mum at the head of the table across from your father’s empty seat and your brother’s each taking a side to your father and you between the oldest and your mum. It didn’t take long before your father arrived, he didn’t bother with pleasantries or hellos, he just took his place at the head of the table and food was served. You all ate in silence only the sound of the silverware hitting the plates is heard, something your mum tried not to grimace at each time.
“So… why are we here?” Matteo asked when the silence stretched for a bit too long for his liking, and he as did everyone minus your father wanted to escape this dinner.
”I have something that I wanted to talk to y/n about and I thought it’s best if you’re all present, as it’ll affect everyone.” Your father said, placing his knife and fork down, he took a sip from his wine glass and ran his eyes over the three of you like a predator, no ounce of love in him, you held your breath in curiosity and dread as the air hummed with anticipation, whatever is about to come can't be good. “As you know, our family has ties with the world of cars and motorsports, and Formula 1 has been a cornerstone of our family’s legacy for decades.”
”Not this again.” Marco mutters and your father gives him a warning look that has Marco clenching his jaw but saying nothing.
”In recent years, and since you three refused to have any hand in the family business or racing of any kind, our influence has waned, our presence diminished.” Your father continued, his voice carrying over the silence with determination, he speaks like you're in mediaeval times Matteo rolls his eyes. Dread fell onto you, you had no idea where this is going since it has to do with you. “I believe it’s time for us to take action.” His gaze sweeping across the room. “To reclaim our rightful place among the elite of Formula 1.” His eyes fall onto you and you forget to breathe, Matteo looking from you to your father. “I just came from a meeting with a Ferrari representative and we’ve come to a conclusion, y/n, we’ve arranged for you to marry Charles Leclerc.” Your fork clatters ringing in the air, your siblings and you are in shock. “This union will restore our family’s honour and secure our place at the top of motorsports history once more.”
As the implication of the head of the Morelli family proposal, no not proposal, fact, words, order, yes his order sank in, a palpable tension hung in the air, uncertainty and apprehension heavy.
And then your brothers were shouting, waving their hands, rage filled them. As for you? You felt betrayal, this is a death sentence to all your aspirations and dreams. Your eyes filled with tears, your throat closing in on you, your eyes fell to your plate and hadn’t moved. You have no idea who Charles even is, you have no idea who any of the Formula 1 drivers are at the moment, you haven't been in that sphere in so long.
”Come one, y/n, we’re leaving.” Matteo says and pulls you up, you stand up emotionlessly, your father still silent as he watched, you followed Matteo when your father spoke just as you were about to leave the room.
”If you don’t agree, then you can all kiss your futures goodbye.” Your father said and he dapped at his mouth with the napkin before he placed it on the table, that stopped you in your tracks along with Matteo and Marco stopped his shouting. closing your eyes, you let go of Matteo’s hand, of course it wouldn’t be that easy, your father wouldn’t just tell you and let you refuse, he had another thing up his sleeve.
”What are you talking about?” Marco asked his glare speaking for itself.
”I mean that, if your sister refuses or if any of you say anything or try to stop this marriage, you Marco will find that your company is suddenly without business and thus you’ll go bankrupt and you have two girls at home and a wife to take care of, and you Matteo, your stocks will plummet and you won’t be able to find a job as long as I live, all your inheritance gone and no trust fund to rely on anymore.” Cruel, he’s so cruel, how can he be your flesh and blood, how can you be related to this man? He’d basically kick you all to the street and his grandchildren as well, he has no heart that’s for certain.
”You can’t do that.” Matteo said but his voice was weaker, he knows his father is capable of doing this and much worse.
”Oh but I can.” Your father said with a smirk, his eyes settling on you once again. “So what will you do, y/n, would you let your brothers go bankrupt leaving them and their families with no money or future? Could you have this on your conscience?”
”This wouldn’t be on hers, it’s you, you’re doing this, don’t act like an innocent by standard when you orchestrated this, this scheme.”
”You know what? go at it, do the best you can, we’re not letting y/n marry someone she doesn’t even know, who the heck is Charles Leclerc anyways, I swear to god father if you make her do this I’ll-“
”I’ll do it.” You said and all eyes snapped to you, a tear left your eye before you whipped it away not letting another one leave your eyes.
”Wh-what?” Marco asked confused by your words.
”I’ll do it, but you have to write everything down, make a contract, that if I go through with it, you’ll leave them alone, the inheritance, the trust fund, everything.”
“No, no, y/n, what are you doing?” Matteo asked shaking his head, he doesn’t like this, he doesn’t want you to do this, his baby sister.
”I’m doing the only thing I can to keep you and your family safe.” You say to his, your eyes leaving your father’s to look at him. ”You just had a baby girl, and Marco, you’re about to have a boy, I can’t let this affect you.” You say to your brothers, Marco falls in his chair in disbelief. “Do we have a deal?”
”We sure do.” Your father says with a wicked grin on his face.
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Earlier that day in Monaco, Charles was on his way to what he assumed was a friendly meeting with some of Ferrari’s officials. His mind was somewhere else, he was thinking about the upcoming race, race strategies, how to secure a spot on the podium, he’s reached a point where he just wants to stand on the podium not win, just be in the top 3. He’s been struggling with the team the whole season and his personal life took a turn since the middle of the last season, it seemed to him that everything is taking a horrible turn. Little did Charles know that what’s about to come is so much worse.
As Charles enters the office, he’s met with a Ferrari executive whose name eluded him at the moment and a man he never met before, but a sense of unease crept over the monegasque man as he took in the seriousness of the situation.
”Charles,” Greeted, the man he didn't know, Charles shook his hand ever the polite man. “I’m Antonio Morelli.”
Charles recognized the name instantly, he knew the history of Ferrari and their ties with the establishment of Ferrari. “Mr. Morelli, it’s lovely to meet you.”
After they finished the introduction and sat down, Antonio sitting across from Charles started speaking. “Charles, this meeting has been set up because we need to talk.”
Confusion flickered across Charles’s features, his brow furrowing in apprehension, he had no idea what Antonio Morelli could ever want with him.
“Of course, about what?”
”It’s about your future and the future of Ferrari.” His heart sank at Antonio's words, this conversation is about to change the trajectory of his life. “As you’re well aware, your recent… actions shall we say, have caused considerable damage to your reputation and more importantly the reputation of Ferrari and the team’s standing in Formula 1.” A wave of irritation surged through Charles at the implication of Antonio’s words, but he had to bite back his tongue and stop the retort that threatened to spill from his lips. He knows this is not the time to argue, and it would only serve to worsen the situation further. “In light of these circumstances, and to save your reputation and your career.” Antonio held eye contact with the driver, his tone cold and unwavering. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to present you with an ultimatum, and you can choose whichever you like, it’s up to you.” Charles’s heart skipped a beat as he braced himself for the oncoming crash, he knew that whatever was in store for him wasn’t good. “You’ll marry y/n Morelli.” He stated as if he wasn’t just offering his daughter up to a man he didn’t know, yes he knows who he is but this is his first time meeting Charles. “Or you will find yourself without a seat in Ferrari and with no future in Formula 1.”
Silence filled the room as it seemed to spin for Charles, his mind is struggling to grasp what was just told to him, it felt like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him leaving him without air and leaving him reeling with disbelief.
”I uh- but I…” Charles stammered struggling to come up with something to say as his voice is barely a whisper.
”There are no buts, Charles.” Antonio heard him loud and clear, his voice cutting through the turmoil going through Charles and reaching him. “This is your only option to keep your seat, your only chance to salvage and save your seat and career in Formula 1.”
Charles thought about all he went through to reach where he is now, racing in Formula 1 was his lifelong dream and he achieved it, but he hasn’t won a championship yet, he still has so much to achieve, so much to do.
“This isn't just about you Charles, this is about Ferrari as well, its about the fans and how they view you as il predestinato.” The executive said and Charles felt a surge of resentment rise within him, his fists clenching at his sides. How dare they blame him for all their problems? How dare they use him as a scapegoat for their own failings? He knows it's not just about him, it's to distract the fans from the failed car, the tractor he and Carlos are made to drive every week.
But as he met the unwavering gaze of Antonio and the executive, Charles realised that there was no escaping the reality of this ‘predicament’. He was trapped, caught in a web of deceit and manipulation and it looked like there was no escape for him.
With a heavy sigh and his head bowed, and broken spirit he nods his head in acceptance, knowing that he had no choice but to accept. No matter how much it went against everything he believed in, he had to agree, his sense of pride taking a hit. And as he left the room, his footsteps heavy with the weight of his newfound burden, Charles could only wonder what awaited him on the other side of the impossible choice that lay before him.
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Matteo and Marco both took your bag and booked you a hotel room. You had set your mind to the marriage and weren't backing down as long as your father was threatening your brothers, the only family, you count, that you have left.
It took a lot for you to make them stay back when your father called you to tell you to come home to sign the contract and to tell you what the next steps will be like. You get there and the maid greets you as usual, taking your coat, before you make your way to the office. There's a meeting table with 6 chairs placed to the side in the office, used when your father has business meetings at home, so not so often.
You place your bag on the table and sit down, your father soon walks in with a man following him. It turns out to be the lawyer, they sit across from you.
“As we've talked there's two contracts, one for the marriage, you'll share with Charles and the other for your conditions. You can start with that one.” The lawyer stated and you start reading, it takes a while as you focus on every word not wanting to miss a thing. You do find yourself getting emotional as you read, this is all becoming so real, it's actually happening. It takes a lot for you not to show the tornado of emotions swirling inside of you.
“Where do I sign?” You ask meekly and the lawyer points you to where you have to. You sign all the lines and hand him the contract.
“Okay the next one.”
“I need to go to the bathroom.” You mutter and stand up.
“Let's take a break.” Your father excuses you and you head out to the bathroom furthest from the office to hide in there as you're trying to fight the tears. You're literally signing your life away, tying yourself to a man you've never met before. Closing the bathroom door behind you, you splash some cold water onto your face to calm your racing heart. But seeing how weak you look, makes you want to cry more. A few tears manage to slip down your cheeks but you pat them away, trying not to ruin your makeup. Don’t let him see how much this is affecting you, you can’t.
Charles makes it to the address sent to him, he's led to a penthouse so big and fancy it surprised him even though he's been in many expensive houses. You can tell this is owned by a billionaire, everything is a step above all the other places he's been in, yet it looked cold, unloved and un-lived in. Charles couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, he had greed to this, this arranged marriage out of desperation to keep his career, to keep his name out of the public’s mouths, however the idea of entering a marriage with a complete stranger left him feeling uneasy. When he makes it to the office, he sees Antonio and the lawyer sitting down, the chairs across from them empty, but there’s a purse on the table. Antonio and the lawyer greet him and point him to the seat across from the lawyer, and just as he sits down, the door he closed behind him is opened, and his future wife walks in. Charles looked up the Morelli family but there weren't pictures of the adult children anywhere, when they were young there’s plenty, some at F1 races even, but after a certain point, he found absolutely nothing. What he found is the parents of the family pictured at parties and lavish ad luxuries events and trips.
Charles looked starstruck when he saw you walk in, he doesn’t know what he expected but you look absolutely nothing like your father, you look elegant, soft and so innocent. He reminds himself that you’ve also agreed to this, that you’re the daughter of the man that’s forcing him, how different can you be from your parents?
You saw him in pictures, you’ve read about him, everything you could get under your hand you’ve read. From his beginning in karting to F1, to the scandals he’s been getting into for the last year or so, how much it had affected him and his sponsors. On track he’s still doing good, the best he can in the car he’s given at least, but off track he’s living the life of a fuckboy, all that after he came out of a long time relationship. To you however he’s just the man that agreed to this marriage, to further his career to get to your family’s money, be connected to Formula 1 forever even, you don’t know but you don’t like him and dread the thought of being tied to him just like your mum is to your dad.
With heavy steps you make your way to your seat next to Charles and sit down, you refuse to look at Charles, but he kept glancing at you taking you in, your father had a smirk on his face that just irritated you to no end.
”Okay, let’s go over the key points in the contract together before you both can take it and sign.” The lawyer said. “Charles and y/n, you are both not to be seen in any romantic or intimate position with anyone but each other.” This was mainly for Charles. “The public needs to think that you’re both single for now.” Easy enough you think to yourself. “In a month's time, you’ll start being spotted with each other, but confirm nothing after about 2 months, y/n you’ll be seen at a race.” You already hated this so much. “From there you have to sell that you’re actually in love, we’ll then release a statement saying that you’re in a relationship and things look to be going good. Now, in 9 months you have to get married.”
”That’s not going to be believable, getting married in under a year of knowing each other.” Charles stated wanting to scoff at the stupid plan they had set up, you take the contract and flip through it reading all the conditions the things you have to do.
”And that’s why you’ll say that you’ve known each other for a long time, and you’ve just started dating recently.” Antonio said and gave a challenging look, that shut him up straight away.
“Why do I have to move back to Monaco?” You ask frowning, you hate this country, it may be small but you hate it, you’ve just gotten out of it permanently not even five years ago.
”Because this is where Charles lives-“ You cut your dad off.
”But he can move to Italy, it’s not that far.” Your dad wasn’t happy about you cutting him off but you didn't care, your life is in Italy not in Monaco. “And he races most of the year so he’s not in Monaco most of the time.”
”y/n, Monaco is the home of Formula 1, it wouldn’t make sense to move to Italy, keep your house there if you want and go there from time to time, but you will live in Monaco.” You huff but say nothing else, wanting this hell to end already. You’re both given pens to sign the contracts and before the ink even has time to dry you leave the room, leaving the three men watching after you.
Charles asks himself what he had gotten himself into, to him you sounded like a brat throwing a tantrum, because she couldn’t get the smallest thing she wanted, and now he’s stuck with you. Now your fates are sealed, intertwined. And you’re both losing hope.
➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳
In the next month you don’t see Charles, he was off racing, and you were back in Italy, you’ll postpone your move as much as you can, your life is all in Italy, it’s where you’re living, working, that’s where your friends are.
Both you and Charles were sent booklets with all the information that you may be asked about for the other and you had to memorise it. You took the booklet and never bothered to open it, you weren’t about to make this easy, just because you signed doesn’t mean it’s all smooth sailing from here. Charles however read everything, he wanted to know who you are, he hadn’t gotten the luxury of finding a wiki page or an article about you.
The media and everyone around Charles notice a difference in him, he doesn't go out or sleep around anymore, but he’s also quieter and more reserved than before. Whenever he was asked about his mode or why he’s changed, he’d just deflect the question, change the subject or simply just shrug. Charles did find himself thinking about his future all the time, regret and second thoughts clouded his mind, but it was all too late now.
It was between races when you flew back to Monaco to meet Charles for your first ‘date’. In your time in Monaco you’ve booked a hotel room to stay in, not wanting to see your parents if not needed. You met Charles at the location sent to you by your father, you still don’t have Charles’ number.
It was a small and cosy cafe, where you’re both to sit and eat for an hour or so, there will be a paid photographer (paparazzi) waiting to snap pictures of you both. You arrived first and took a table near the window, but had your back to it, not wanting your face out there straight away. You tapped your fingers on the table as you waited for the Formula 1 driver to arrive. This ‘date’ to many would be a dream, but to you it had kept you up at night, dark circles under your eyes were covered by layers of concealer.
”Uh, hi.” Charles says and takes the seat in front of you, you give him a small fake smile in return.
”Hi.” You greet him back, and then there’s a long stretch of silence, that is so awkward you wanted to kill yourself, what do you say to your future husband that you’re forced to marry on your first ‘date’? Thankfully a waitress comes by and places two menus in front of you, and so you take your time flipping through, Charles has been here many times before, he knows what he’ll order so he takes the time to shamelessly look at you. He does admit that if it weren’t for the whole marriage thing, if he saw you somewhere he’d ask you out, too bad you’re a Morelli that he’s forced to marry. “Do you know what you’ll order?”
”Yeah, do you?”
”Yes.” You both order what you want before falling into silence. Charles clears his throat, searching for something, anything to break the awkward silence.
”So… how was your day?” He asked eventually, cringing slightly at his own words, you blink at him not expecting him to talk to you at all, you hesitate for a moment before you find your voice to respond.
”Fine, thank you.” Your tone is a little guarded, on edge, not trusting Charles, but you decide to play along and return the question. “How was your day?”
”It’s way okay.” And that was the end of it before your food arrived, you eat in silence both glancing at the other from time to time. This is suffocating, it just dawned on you that this will be your life from now on.
”This is awkward, maybe we can, I don't know, try to talk maybe?” You were uncertain and admittedly very awkward, but you have to get over the silence, you hate silence like this, you’re very talkative by nature, the only time you’re silent is when you’re uncomfortable.
”Okay, we have to act like we like each other anyways.” Charles muttered and took a sip from his water. “Did you come from Italy?”
”Yeah, early this morning, you were in Spain right?” You think you’ve seen that they were racing in Spain somewhere online.
”Yes, a couple days ago.” You nod to his words and fall silent again. “Nice weather today.”
You couldn’t help yourself but laugh, nothing is truly funny, but look at you talking about the weather and nonsense, trivial things, the irony of the situation is so funny. Charles smiles as he sees you laughing, he didn’t expect it but it’s his first time seeing you do more than a fake smile, you’re usually stoic, no emotions at all.
“I’m so sorry, it’s just this whole thing is just so…”
”Weird.”
”Yes.”
”Believe me I know.”
This breaks the ice a little, you still talk about trivial things, nothing personal at all, you talk about Italy he tells you about Spain, what countries you both think is better than the other, trivial, not important talk. But talk you did. As an hour came to close, you both paid for your part of the late lunch, Charles didn’t put up a fight when you said you’ll pay half of the food, he felt like you’re not at the point where he can offer to pay.
Walking outside you look up at him and give him one of those small smiles, that to him looked practiced and not genuine.
“I guess, I’ll see you at our next scheduled, uh ‘date’.” You say doing air quotes at the date part.
“Yeah, sure.” You turn to leave before Charles stops you. “Wait, let me get your number, so we don’t have to go through people to schedule something.”
“Great idea.” You mutter and take out your phone and you both exchange numbers. “Okay, bye.”
“Bye.”
With that you both went on your own ways, you went to walk around and get to your hotel, the weather is nice after all, and Charles went with him in his car.
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You and Charles went on a few more ‘dates’ each one with more pictures online, no one has figured out who you were yet, something you were forever thankful for.
F1Gossip
Liked by username5, username320, and 302,582
hear me out! I think charles is over his hoe era, in the last month he’s been seen with the same girl in Monaco, Austria and Hungary. I repeat it’s the same girl.
No one knows who she is but or what she does but could this be Charles new girlfriend?
More comments
username234 honestly good for him
username20 FINALLY!! I was over him with a different girl each week 💃
username083 I wonder who she is
username72 not good enough for charles that’s for sure 🤢
username294 i bet it’s just another girl who he flies around w/ him so he wouldnt have to go out and look for one
username498 come one guys we don’t even know who she is
username903 it’s giving me gold digger vibes
username465 Charles be careful
username983 seriously these comments are not it 🙄
username438 shut up no one asked you
username983 and I don’t remember charles asking for your opinion
username438 stop asking like you know him when you dont
username983 says yyou
username474 I don’t like this 😒
username832 me neither
username094 this is whey drivers dont post their relationships because you people dont even know who the poor girl is and you’re already attacking her
username873 Olivia was better
username384 girl they ended over a year ago get over it
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You’ve seen the photos and you’re impressed with how much you and Charles managed to sell it, one thing you didn't like is the comments, you’re dreading the moment they find out who you were. You and Charles would usually meet up somewhere for half an hour, once you got the okay that the pictures were good you’d both go your separate ways. Now he has his summer break which he’s spending in Monaco, so once more you fly to Monaco to start the next part of the ‘plan’. The soft launch.
Your socials are all private, but soon you’ll have to make them public, another thing you have to change. You made it to Charles yacht in Monaco, he was already there waiting for you.
”Hi.” You greet the Monegasque, with a wave of your hand and a small smile, Charles returns your greeting and helps you get on the yacht. You settle down as Charles gets the yacht out in the water for a good spot. You brought your sketchbook with you, you’ve had a few ideas about some paintings for a gallery you wanted to be part of and inspiration just hit you that morning, so as Charles sailed for a bit you sat at the table and brought up your supplies. You’re the kind of artist that likes to sketch things out before putting them to the canvas.
”What are you drawing?” Charles asks you when he comes in.
”Just a sketch for a painting I want to do.” You say and look up at him to see him handing you a drink. “Thank you.”
”I never saw any of your work before.” Charles stated and you smile taking out your phone, you always love showing off your work. Not many people in your life were interested in art besides those you met in uni so when you find someone you just want to show them.
”I’ll show you.” Charles sits next to you and looks at the phone, and suddenly he’s seeing a side to you that he’s never seen before, your face is bright and the smile on your face is true, this is your passion. you’re explaining to him what each piece is about and what they mean, the colours, the composition, what inspired it. In the next 30 minutes he’s heard more from you than he’s heard in the last month. Charles is smiling at you when you realise you’ve been ranting for a while. “What?”
”I just never seen this side of you before.” He shrugs and you sigh leaning back in your seat, angled slightly to his side.
”We don’t know each other, I only know what I’ve seen online.” You tell him, your smile is long gone, and you find yourself needing to talk to him about the arrangement, you both have never talked about it before.
”You haven’t read the booklet?” He asked confused, he’s read his over and over again.
”Just the first page, it’s all stuff you can find online anyways, besides I bet you mine is just filled with things my parents think they know about me, but aren’t true.” Charles is confused by your words, he’s been under the impression that you wanted this marriage to happen, that this was a part of your plan. It seems to him now that your relationship with your parents is a bit rocky.
“I feel like there's a lot of things we should talk about.” Charles said as he got the feeling that maybe you aren't as welling as he originally thought.
“True, I actually hoped to talk to you.” You said and were Facing Charles fully, he also turned to face you, your knees touching lightly. “Look, I know you that we don't know each other, and that there's things that we both want to do that this marriage wouldn't allow us to do, so I have a proposal.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“I wouldn't mind you being with other girls, we'll be married in a few months and i know I'm not your type, so do whatever you want just keep to discreet.” Charles was dumbfounded by your words, he cant believe that this is what you think of him. He's also a bit irritated. But what can he say, his attractivities haven't been the most private as of late. “But, I'm Keeping my house in Italy and I'll go Monaco if I have to and nothing else.”
“Sounds fair.” Charles said and you put out your hand for a handshake, which he returned. “There's no reason for us not to be friends.”
“True, I mean we're stuck together for life now.” You say and shrug. “We should take some pictures for Instagram.”
You both go out and begin the small photoshoot you had to do. Posing and taking pictures to choose one for Charles to post on his stories.
By the time the Yacht docked the sun was nearly down, Charles got off first and helped get off.
“When are you leaving?” Charles asked as you both walked to the parking lot, you rented a car this time around.
“As soon as I find a plane, I usually don't book my return flight until I'm sure we have everything we need.” You explain and he nods. “Why?”
“Well, you see…” Charles rubbed the back of his head nervously, he didn't want to bring it up but he's been putting it off for so long. “My mum wants to meet you.”
“What? Why?” you're confused why his mum would want to meet you, unless. “She thinks this is real?”
“I couldn't tell her, it would break her heart, she would feel guilty and upset and I can't do that to her believe me I tried but everytime I couldn't.” Charles went on a mini rant, now this a side to him you never saw. You can tell how much he cares and lives his mum, you couldn't say you understand his feeling but just from hearing him you can sort of empathise with him.
“Okay, I'll do it.” You say and he stops from talking and looks at you, with wide eyes.
“Really?”
“Yeah, it means alot to you, I’ll play my part.” You shrug, not thinking much about your choice. “Practice anyway, we haven’t acted as a couple in front of anyone really.”
“Thank you.”
”No worries.”
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The next day, you got dressed and headed to Charles’s house where his family was gathering for an early dinner and a night together, enjoying the time where the three Leclerc boys had nothing to do. When you arrived, you could hear the laughter from inside, making you pause as the nerves came at full force, your hands started to shake and you had to pause before ringing the bell a few times. Taking a deep breath you pressed the bell, and waited. The door opened and you saw Charles, he must’ve been laughing before he opened the door because he had a big smile on that showed his dimples, and they didn’t dim when he saw you. You gave him a nervous smile.
”Hey, come in.” He greeted you and walked in seeing some of his family, this must be the reason behind the smile and the friendliness. Yes Charles has never been rude to you but you wouldn't call him friendly or loving or caring. Neither have you to be honest, so you wouldn’t blame him. You give Charles a quick hug and press your cheek to his in greeting. You put on your diplomatic smile that you had perfected when you were in boarding school, and look at the Leclercs, thankfully it wasn’t the whole family, just the boys and their mother. “Maman, this is y/n, the one I told you about.”
”Ah, y/n it's lovely to meet you.” Pascal comes up and pulls up in for a hug, that you clearly weren’t expecting, your eyes went wide for a bit before you returned the hug. Her smile and hug came in as a relief amidst the lies and the unknown tension between her and Charles.
”It’s lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Leclerc.” You say in perfect french, and pull back to see her grinning face, all your words and smiles felt hollow, meaningless , you know the truth behind all this and it isn’t easy to lie to someone who’s so affected by it.
”Oh please call me Pascal, Charles didn’t tell me you speak French.” Pascal says and pulls you behind her to the living room where the other other Leclerc boys are.(after this point everything is French between the French speakers)
”Must’ve wanted to surprise you.” You say smoothly and smile as you shake hands with Arthur before you do the same to Lorenzo, who seemed reluctant, but you think nothing of it. His brother did sleep around with lots of women recently, and you’re the first one they’ve met in a while as well.
”I wonder what else he didn’t tell me.” Pascal gives Charles a look and he shrugs with a smile, he didn’t know you could speak French, it wasn’t in the booklet, it said you speak Italian, English and German.
“Maman, I just wanted you to find out from her.” Charles says and sits down next to you on the sofa.
”y/n, you’ve come at a good time, I was finishing the food.” Pascal said and went to go to the kitchen before you stopped her.
”Do you need help?” You ask standing to follow her but she refuses your help and tells Arthur to come help her instead. With a groan the youngest follows his mother to the kitchen and you’re left with the oldest two.
”So what exactly do you do, y/n?” Enzo asks, the way he said your name left a bad feeling in you, you looked at Charles and he gave you a nod in reassurance, but it did nothing to ease you at all. You’re in the lion’s den right now.
”I’m an artist.” You say with a polite smile.
”So you don’t work.” He said simply and your smile falls.
”Enzo.”
”What? I’m just getting to know your wife.” Enzo said and you freeze. His tone is sarcastic, your heart sank and your facade dropping. “Oops not yet I guess.”
“Come on, let’s eat.” You’ve only just met Arthur but you've never been grateful for anyone in your life. Enzo leaves the room first and you turn to look at Charles with fire in your eyes.
”You told him.” You hiss glaring at the Ferrari driver.
”Yes, I had to tell someone, and he won’t tell anyone.” Charles defends himself and you roll your eyes. “Your whole family knows.”
”Yes, but you know that, why didn't you tell me?” You huff, not liking how he didn't tell you.
”I just didn’t have the chance.”
”How convenient.” You walk away from Charles and to the dining room, where they were all sitting down, the polite fake smile was back on your face. You sat down in a chair and Charles sat next to you. You were back to playing boyfriend and girlfriend, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of Enzo’s eyes on you. Another thing you’ve noticed is how loving the family is, even Enzo’s anger is justified and comes out from a place of love. Your brothers love you but you weren't raised with love around you and it shows in how people act and interact with each other. You did get to know the family a lot that day, with good food, good wine, and amazing company. But at the end of the night when Pascal made Charles drive you home/hotel since he didn’t drink and you did, you sat in silence as the guilt ate at you slowly, you were looking out the window from Charles’s Ferrari watching the scenery lost in thought.
”I didn’t know you spoke French.” Charles said breaking the silence and bringing you out of your thoughts, you turn to look at him.
”Yeah, I’ve been speaking it since I was young.”
”It’s not in the booklet.” You laugh at his words and little pout he had on his face, looks like someone took reading the booklet to heart.
”Told you it’s not all true, I refused to speak French to my parents after the age of 9.” You told him and he gave you a questioning look filled with curiously, your family dynamic alway puzzling him and leaving him utterly confused. “They always wanted me to do this or that, and at home we always spoke Italian and then suddenly they wanted us to speak French, I learnt it but never spoke it in front of them, I speak six languages fluently, and know the basics of a few more.”
”SIX!” Charles is impressed, he speaks three and that was hard for him, imagine six.
”Yeah.” You chuckle at his surprise and bring out your hands to count them down. “Italian, because I’m Italian, French because Monaco, duh, German because of my school in Switzerland, English is a language everyone just learns, Spanish because I went to a trip to Spain in 8th grade and loved the language and then Dutch cause why not, and it has some similarities to German when it comes to vocabulary.”
“Wow, I’m impressed, and surprised more impressed though.” Charles says and you smile a genuine smile.
”I’m glad to impress, and if you ever need a translator you know who to find.”
Charles came to a stop in front of the hotel, he never asked why you never stay with your family when you’re here but he could only guess. “You know, you don't have to stay at a hotel, every time you're here.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.” You say unbuckling your seatbelt.
”You wouldn’t.”
”I don’t know, maybe you’d have some company, I’m okay here seriously.” Charles sighed and here it is again your thoughts of him.
”I haven’t been with anyone since I’ve signed the contract.”
”Why.”
”Because no matter what, I’m not a cheater.”
”But we’re not in a relationship.” silence
”Have you been with anyone?”
”No, that’s not what i meant, I just mean that you can live your life how you want it.”
”Well, I don’t want to be a cheater we’re getting married in a few months.”
”Well, I’m not with anyone and haven’t been in almost a year.”
”Okay.”
”Okay, see you later Charles.”
”See you.”
➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳
Charles_leclerc
Liked by Landonorris, Maxverstappen1, your username and 3,380,394 others
No place like Monaco ❤️
More Comments
username93 we saw the last slide charles
username24 Charles in his soft launch era 🔥
username37 does this mean the end to his hoe era for real
username76 I’m going to miss fuckboy Charles
username37 You’ll be missed charles 💔
username83 you all think its the same girl from the paparazzi pictures 🤔
username69 I think so, same hair and everything
Landonorris 👀
Carlossainz55 when did this happen?
username28 lol not even his friends knew
username86 I bet @/pierregasly knows what up
Pierregasly not this time
username08 can’t believe there’s a day where Pierre is as clueless as we are
username90 I bet she’ll be gone in a week or two
username87 Uh who is this?
username48 Charles be careful there’s a gold digger trying to leach of you 🤮🐍
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Charles posted a few more times, without bringing your face in continuing the soft launch part of the ‘plan’. you’ve met his mother another time, and like the first time, seeing her so happy for Charles and being in love with you left you with guilt that kept you up at night. Alas it was time for you to make your appearance at a race, your dad had talk to you on the phone and told you to hurry up, he also tried to arrange for a ‘family dinner’ that you’ve refused over and over again. With that being said you texted Charles and you both agree for you to go to the race in the Netherlands. You’ve arrived separately from Charles in, coming from Italy. Charles’s room was a suite at the hotel, with a big sofa and a king sized bed. Charles arrived a day before you and was already out for media duties for quite some time, you had a work obligation that you couldn’t get out of and you haven’t really tried.
By the time you arrived and were out of the airport and at the hotel it was already getting dark out, you got into Charles’s room with the key he left for you at the reception. The room was clean, you've noticed with his suitcase open on the side, the first thing you did was shower and get into some lounge clothes, it was an oversized set that you wore around the house when you had guests over usually, not the usual boxer shorts and bralette you enjoyed.
Your phone has been going for a good 15 minutes now, making you sigh and go to the balcony to get fresh air with your phone in hand as you willed yourself to pick up. It was night time, and you had only turned the side lamp on in the room, making very faint light come out to the outside. after staring at the screen for what felt like eternity and with a shaky breath, you finally muster the courage to pick up his latest call. Your heart was pounding in your chest.
”y/n, finally, I’ve been calling you for days now.” Your father’s voice rang through the line, it was laced with irritation and anger, all directed towards her, as always leaving her shaky and scared.
”Sorry, father, I’ve been busy.” Your voice is barely over a whisper, a strained silence hung in the air for a moment, your hold on the phone tightened.
”Look, I’ve been patient enough with both you and Charles, but if you keep ignoring me and not doing as I asked, then your brothers will bare the consequences of your action, or none there of.” His tone was serious and unyielding, making you feel like a child once more.
“We will, I promise, tomorrow I’m going to the paddock.” You tell him straight after, and you hate how you want to please him just to get him off your back, the fear in you not lessening with age, he still has a hold over you.
“Good, that’s good.” He hummed and you hear your mother talking next to him for a moment before he’s speaking again. “Your mother is asking when you’ll be over for dinner with Charles.”
”I don’t know, we’re both super busy and-“
”And nothing, you come here as soon as you can, I’ll have none of this busy nonsense.” Your father interrupts his tone firm. “It’s time for the excuses to stop, I’ve been letting you handle how you get it out to the public on your own, but what I say goes.”
”I’ll talk to Charles, we’ll-we’ll figure something out.” You mutter and tears gather in your eyes, you try to fight them but like always when it came to your father they just fall freely. No matter what, you have no choice but to complain with his wishes/demands. For some reason after meeting his family, the thought of Charles seeing yours is leaving you with a sense of dread and despair. soft sobs leave your mouth in waves, you look out at the view, you’re high, the street looks far away, and you wonder, just for a second, if you jump would you die instantly or would you be in pain, is that kind of pain better or worse that the one you’re in. shaking your head away from those thoughts, you turn to go inside.
Unbeknownst to you Charles has made it to the hotel room, just to catch the last of the conversation, and he’s heard you cry. He stood in the bedroom just watching you crumple under the weight of your emotions, a few times he had to stop himself form going to you and pulling you in for a hug.
When he sees you turning to come back inside he makes his way to the door of the room and acts like he just came in.
”Hey.” Charles greets you softly, he couldn’t act happy when he just saw you falling apart.
”Hey.” You put on a brave smile but he could see your wet cheeks and red eyes, your nose red as well. “How was today?”
”It was okay, tiring, but good.” Charles says and his eyes don’t leave your figure as he watched you escaping to the sofa where you practically had your back to him.
”That’s good, I’m tired as well, I think I’ll go to bed now.” You say and pull on the extra covers you found in the closet.
”Now? did you eat?”
“No, but I’m tired and not hungry.”
”Oh, okay, sleep well then.”
”Thanks, you too.”
Charles walks into the bedroom and closes the door lightly, you’re not sleeping and you won't find sleep for a while, your mind is swirling with emotions and thoughts that are hunting you down. You don’t cry but a few tears slip as you try not to think about what tomorrow will hold or all the things you have to do.
The next day, you wake up bright and early, before Charles’s alarm goes off, you don't need to shower since you did the night before, but you slip into the bathroom, and start on your makeup, and get dressed. You know that every single thing about you will be all over social media and criticised and analysed by thousands if not millions of people Charles has over 10 million followers on Instagram after all. When Charles was up, you were just finishing up your hair, the door was open. You heard movement from behind you and looked up through the mirror to see a shirtless half asleep Charles, his sweatpants low on his hips, your hands stopped mid air with your curling iron. You’re just a woman, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wonder, starting with his messy and tousled hair moving to his chest and arms and his abs.
“Morning.” His morning voice made you blink and look away, you had to swallow before you were able to regain your composure and your voice.
“Morning, I’m almost done.” You say and focus on not looking at him and just looking at what you were doing.
”That’s okay.” Charles says and goes to the second sink in the bathroom next to you and starts brushing his teeth, you both were doing your business in silence but your eyes wonder to him every few seconds, his eyes was half closed and he was half asleep still, so for you it was a blessing, being able to look at him as much as you wanted, so you admired him without him seeing.
You’re finished before him and leave the bathroom, it didn’t take long for him to be ready, dressed in his Ferrari team kit and a pair of skinny jeans, you bite your tongue not to comment on it, you’re not close for you to say anything about his choice of clothes.
On the ride to the track, you felt a sense of anticipation and excitement, your eyes looking outside the window taking in the city, after today your life as you know it will change. Every single thing you do will be under the microscope, you felt like a teen again but this time it’s not going to be just your parents watching, it’s going to be thousands of people, all with their opinions that they’re not afraid of saying, online at least.
”It’s going to be okay.” Charles said and you turned to look at him only to find him already looking at you. “You don’t have to be nervous, after we go inside, you can stay in my room if you want.”
”No it’s okay, I can do it.” You tell him with a grateful smile, as far as arranged marriages go, Charles isn’t the worst option, if you met in other circumstances you wouldn’t have gone for him simply for his career choice in F1 but you’re glad it’s not someone worse.
When you make it there and park, Charles gets out first and walks to your side opening the door, all with a smile on his face, he helps you out of the Ferrari and you get out and take your first look around, there’s fans everywhere all screaming and shouting his name. Some of his team are already waiting for him, and when he goes to sign caps and merch, one of the females introduces herself and stands with you. you ask her about her job and make small talk, while you’re waiting. She also gives you your pass that Charles requested and you put it around your neck.
“He’s signing a lot of things.” You observe your ‘boyfriend’ as he’s going from one person to the other.
“Yeah, he’s known for singing anything.” You hum and watch how nice Charles is with everyone. “We usually have to pull him away.”
They did pull him away and inside the paddock you guys went. Charles let you walk a bit behind him, knowing that photos of him will be taken and you’re nervous enough, he didn’t want to make it worse for you. it’s been so long since you’ve been at a race it feels like a life time ago, you forgot the sheer magnitude of the event, the air was alive with the hustle and bustle of people around you, creating an atmosphere that’s charged with excitement, and anticipation. After a long walk you make it to Ferrari’s motorhome, Charles introduces you to a few people who you can stick with when he’s on duty. His hand was on the small of your back when he was leading you through the crowds, but other than that you both weren’t showing any signs of affection at all. That didn’t change the fact that once he was in his race suit and it was hanging but his waist you were looking, it was today that you’ve realised how fit he is, he doesn’t just have a good face but a fit body as well.
Watching FP1 brought back all your memories of when you enjoyed racing, I mean how could you not, you’re a Morelli it’s in your blood. Maybe if your relationship was different with your parents who knows where you’d be today. In effort to distance yourself from your parents you’ve strayed from a lot of things that you enjoyed that they loved or wanted you to do.
Between the practice sessions Charles took you with him to get lunch at the cafeteria, he had to stick to his diet and you choose whatever you wanted. sitting down you’re soon joined by Carlos Sainz, you haven’t met him yet, but you saw him when you were looking up Charles online and his face is everywhere along with all the other drivers.
”Hey mate, you haven’t introduced us.” Carlos said and sat down across from the two of you, Charles was telling you about what to expect during the rest of the day and the next two days before he was cut off by his teammate.
”Carlos meet y/n, y/n meet Carlos.” Charles introduced you and you gave the Spanish driver a smile and offered to shake his hand.
”Hey Carlos.”
“Hello, I didn’t know Charles was bringing anyone with him today.” Carlos said before he started eating.
“Yes, I had work and we weren’t sure if I could make it or not.” Half a lie, you knew you’d be here for a while but you did have work.
“Ah, so what do you do?” Carlos asked and he was expecting to hear a model.
”An artist.” Carlos was surprised and proceeded to ask you about what kind of art, where you studied and about living in Italy. The three if you walked back to the brahe together that’s when Charles informed his teammate that you speak Spanish.
”You know y/n speaks Spanish, she says fluently but I’m not good enough to verify that.” Charles said and you gave him a look that had him laughing.
”You don’t believe me?” You ask him and he shrugs innocently.
"No need to worry, I can verify it for you." Carlos fake comforted his teammate and turned to you. "So where did you learn Spanish?"
"I took online classes when I was in 8th grade." You told him and he was impressed, you laughed at his surprised look, you are fluent and your accent is good. "I went to Spain once and just loved the language."
"Mate, she's fluent." Carlos turned to look at Charles who laughed at the two of you, Carlos then turned and continued talking to you. Charles was needed for something and so he left the two of you talking, Carlos was asking you about where you went in Spain and if you want to go again, he recommended a few places and then he learnt you spoke six languages, and so you were made to talk to him in all of them and his face was priceless, had you laughing. He may not have understood everything but he
knows enough to know you're fluent.
"Charles, where did you find this one?" Carlos joked with Charles when he came back, and that had your smile faltering and for Charles to freeze a bit, if Carlos noticed he said nothing.
“It’s a secret.”
“Fine, have your secrets.”
The rest of the day went by nicely and seamlessly, the Ferrari boys did good, no one was beating Max but they've done good. You haven't checked your phone all day, when you made it back to the hotel, Charles went to shower and you laid on the sofa to scroll through. Your Instagram account has gained over 10K followers, you had pictures of your work more than ones of you, but the secret is out, now everyone knows you. You didn't dare check Twitter; the app always scares you.
You heard the shower turn off, when you got a call from your father you contemplated not answering but knowing this would make it much worse you just picked up.
“Hello.” you say on the phone and close your eyes tight, your head on the pillow.
“What do you think you're doing?” Was the first thing you heard, he was angry very angry at what you have no idea.
“Wh-”
“Shut up I'm not done talking, do you know what you've done, why are there more pictures of you and Carlos than with you and Charles. Do you want to ruin the family reputation, do you not take this seriously?”
“What are you talking about?” Today was good. You had fun today and you've done everything he asked you to do, yes reluctantly and you push it off but you do it nonetheless, you sit up as you get agitated. “I've done EVERYTHING you asked me to do, I was just talking to Carlos, there's nothing to it.”
“Don't you fucking talk back to me young lady, haven't done anything good your whole life, you never listen, tomorrow I better see you and Charles selling this or you'll feel the consequences to your actions.” He hangs up and you throw your phone away, cursing under your breath your body shakes with sobs, your head in your hands. Nothing is ever enough for your father, you're never enough.
Charles sighs and this time he doesn't think about it he sits down beside you and pulls you in for a hug, you let him, your face hiding in his neck. Charles shushes you and holds you, you're clutching his shirt in your fist. Charles has a good heart he
doesn't like seeing people crying and he's come to see you as a friend now, a new friend that he's getting to know. It makes him angry that a father would make their daughter cry this much and wouldn't care, he feels blessed for having his parents and makes him feel bad for you. Your childhood must've not been easy. He whispers words of comfort in French and lets you let it all out, your body is shaking for a while
before you slowly stop, when Charles looks down he sees you sleeping. He moves you slowly not wanting to wake you up and carries you bridal style, and he manages to get you to bed before you begin to stir.
"What?" you say confused.
"Hey, just sleep." Charles says and pushes your hair out of your face, you look around and realise you're in his bed.
“No, this is your bed.” You tell him and try to get up but he stops you.
“Just sleep, it can't be that comfortable on the sofa.” He says and you lay back down.
“But you have work tomorrow.” You mutter and rub your eye, it's a bit sensitive from all the crying you've been doing.
“It's fine, a night on the sofa wouldn't hurt me.” Charles says with a smile but you're stubborn, you’re not about to let a man that drives fast cars for a living sleep on the sofa and wake up with back pains.
“Well the bed is big, we can share.” You say and Charles looks at you, he takes you in, you're half asleep, your eyes puffy and bloodshot with tones of worries and things to think about but here you are wanting to make sure he's okay and comfortable.
“Okay, yeah.” Before Charles could make it to his side of the bed you're already asleep, he lays there and wonders how many times you've cried yourself to sleep, how many sleepless nights you've had, how many times you went though restless days by yourself. He knows you have two brothers, he knows they're kind to you that they're not like your parents, but they're not in your life, it seemed to him that they moved out once they were old enough and forgot about you a little, both with their own lives now.
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The next morning Charles asks you what your father wanted and you didn't really want to tell him at first but he managed to get it out of you.
"Just tell me from now on, we're both in this not just you." Charles tells you as he drives to the circuit.
“But this is your life, and this is your career and I just don't want to be a burden or for you to have to think that you have to be stuck with me all day or something.” You tell him, angling yourself to face him.
“y/n, we're a team, okay, for this to work we have to be always on the same page and I consider you my friend now, so just let me help you where I can and you help me where you can okay?” You smile at his words, a team, you have someone on your team.
“Okay.”
When you make it to the circuit, it's a repeat of the day before, you stand to the side while Charles does his thing and he walks in front of you, but half way through he stops and holds his hand out for you with a smile, you blink a couple of times before you take his hand. When you get to the garage Charles is whisked away for debrief and you're left there, you were looking at his car admiring the Ferrari, when a mechanic sees you and walks over.
"It's beautiful isn't it?" He asks and you look up at him with a smile.
“Yeah, it's been years since I was this close to a Formula 1 car.” You tell him, there's rumours around that you're a Morelli and everyone in Ferrari knows of your family, so it takes him by no surprise that you've been close to one before. “It's so different from the ones in the early 2000s.”
“Much different, we have done a lot of changes, look…” And he begins showing you what has changed, why cars nowadays are faster and stronger, the aerodynamics and mechanical differences, some things go over your head, but you know the basics of a formula 1 car.
When Charles finishes up, he sees you talking with the mechanic. He's leaning over the halo as he's showing you something, Charles smiles and walks over.
“Do you want to get in?” Charles asks and you turn to look at him startled, and excited, giddy even.
“Can I?” You ask with a grin and he nods, one of the PR crew takes out his phone to video this while another takes pictures, you're a Morelli and you're getting into the car and Charles is now back in a committed relationship so he's back in his good boy era, all things that made them want to document this happening.
“Place your foot here.” Charles says and points to a spot, you do as he says and he holds on to your waist as you wobble a little before you push yourself up and over the halo, he removes the steering wheel before you sit down and watches you as you get comfortable in his car. His smile is big on his face as you get excited.
“This is amazing.” You say and Charles puts back the steering wheel. You put your hands on the wheel. “So many buttons.”
“Can you reach the paddle?” Charles asked amused, he can tell that the seat is a bit big for you, you wiggle your leg and shake your head no.
“You should be thankful I'm shorter or I would've taken your seat.” You tease him and a few people laugh.
“You like the view from the car?” Charles asks and you nod looking up at him, he's leaning over the halo to look at you.
“Yeah, last time I was inside one I was like 6 or 7.” You tell him and he hums to himself, always finding something new about you, you were right about the fact that the booklet had many wrong things, it missed a lot as well.
At one point in the day Fred came over to say hello to you, he like everyone found out who you were.
“Ms. Morelli, it's nice to meet you.” You shake his hand and smile at the team principal.
“Please call me y/n, it's nice to meet you too.”
“It's been a while since we saw one of the Morelli's in the paddock.” Fred said and you felt Charles move a bit beside you. “haven't seen your father as well.”
“Yeah, well me and my siblings went to school and then uni and just were so busy.” You say and don't mention your father, he has a lot of influence in Ferrari. Charles has a hand on your back in comfort, it seems that after yesterday he's taken the role of comforting you, there's something that has definitely changed in your relationship, you've grown closer and you feel comfortable around each other.
“Yes of course, who knew it'll be Charles that'll bring you back.” He commented and you looked at Charles and smiled, he returned the smile with one of his own. You both knew the truth behind everything and it was killing you both to have to be lying to everyone like that, but why is it getting easier, why is it that since you've grown closer and find more about the other that it's not necessarily all lies.
The rest of the weekend went along great, you met a lot of people and as expected your name and your family's relation to Ferrari was everywhere. Those calling you a gold-digger have now turned to calling you attention seeker. You did post pictures of you to Instagram and the Ferrari team posted the video of you getting in the car, and somehow they found pictures of you in an F1 car from the 2000s, you've never seen that picture before but here it was. Charles texted you saying how you've been in a Ferrari way earlier than him, making you laugh imagining him pouting a little at the thought. After that weekend you've been texting more, talking more and just discovering everything about the other.
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A day before Charles has to fly to Monza you've both in Monaco for the 'family dinner' you've been dreading so much. You've made it to Charles's house to meet there before you head 'home'. Charles was in his bedroom finishing getting ready and you were on the sofa scrolling through your social media and texting your brothers to see when they'll be there.
“Is this okay?” Charles asks, coming out of his bedroom you look up from your phone and see him in a tan dress shirt, a blazer with a pair of dark pants, not skinny, he has one of his watches on and no other accessories. He. Looked. HOT.
“Yeah, just lose the jacket.” You say and stand up, he takes his jacket off and places it to the side. He holds his arms out for your opinion and you smile. Oh if you were a normal couple going to see your normal family, this would've been perfect. Instead you're going to see the man that's been threatening you both. You left your small carry-on at Charles' house, planning to head back to his, so you could fly out to Italy together.
Charles drove the small distance to your family house and parked in the space that's meant for you. You got a text from your brothers Telling you they're already there.
“Are you ready?” You ask Charles in the elevator.
“Yes, are you?” He doesn't want to see your father ever again, but this is much worse for you, you're related to that man.
“As I'll ever be.” You hesitate for a second before you say. “I’m sorry for what’s about to happen.”
“you don't have to.”
“I feel like I should though.” You both don't say more on the topic, as always a maid opens the door for you, and you both step inside, you're led to the formal living room, where the guests are always hosted, can't show everyone we're normal and have normal looking living rooms, oh no what will they say about us. The looks are where formal ends, because once you walk in you smile seeing how Matteo is sat with
his legs spread, and Marco is slouched in his seat, they're both being extra with it and you and your parents know it but it doesn't mean it's not funny.
"Oh y/n, dear I haven't seen you in so long." Your mum says and walks up to you kissing both your cheeks before she moves on quickly to Charles. “You must be Charles, it's good to finally meet you.”
“It's uh, it's good to meet you too.” Charles doesn't know what he expected but it wasn't this, his eyes moved from your mother to your brothers who had their sights on him, making him a bit nervous. They're protective of you, but so is he and they might not like him for marrying you, but he doesn't like them for not taking good care of you. He shakes all their hands and you exchange hugs, you don't bother saying or doing anything with your father other than a quick hello, before you both sit on a sofa together.
It's been four months since the start of this whole thing, and here you are all gathered together, the people affected, threatened, forced and orchestrated by this marriage.
"I heard you haven't won any races this season." Marco said and your eyes snapped to him, his tone is hostel, not friendly at all.
“No, RedBull has been dominating for a while." Charles says, shaking the dig thrown at him.
“He's been on podiums though.” You find yourself sticking up for Charles, he gives you a grateful look, which you return with a smile.
“So he hasn't been winning.”
“No one has been but Verstappen.” You roll your eyes at the childish behaviour your older brothers gained suddenly.
“And you grew up in Monaco?” Matteo then asks him.
“Where are you going with this?” You ask him confused by all the questions.
“What? I'm just getting to know my brother in law.” Matteo tried to act all harmless and innocent but you know your brothers well enough to know there's more to it than that.
“No you're not, please cut it out, it's not like we're all here because we want to anyways.” Your mum gasps, you give her a look, why is she acting like this is normal? You're all been forced to be here and as innocent as she likes to act, she's always in on what your father is up to. She knows everything.
“Let's move to the dining room, why don't we?” your father says and stands up, he thrived on chaos so he's happy how things are right now, split and concur is his favourite method. Charles takes your hand in his, making you pause and look at him he mouths 'it's okay,' and you nod and try to return the smile but you’re not confident and it shows.
Your mum made your brothers sit next to each other so you and Charles sat next to each other, he's closest to your mother and you're next to your father. Food was already laid out for all of you, the start of the meal was silent.
“You know y/n, I'm so happy you're finally in a relationship.” Your mother suddenly says and you stop the fork from reaching your mouth to look at her like she's crazy.
“What are you talking about?” Did she mean you and Charles or something else?
“I'm talking about you and Charles, you silly girl.” You scoff and place your fork on the table.
“You do know that we're forced right? You were here when your husband told me.” Your father sighs not liking where this is going, he's okay with you and your brothers doing whatever to each other but for a twisted reason that is not love he hates when you speak back to your mother.
“Yes mother, and besides, Charles isn't really a golden boy to be proud of having as a son-in-law.” Marco takes the chance to bring Charles in again, he's showing him that he doesn't approve of him.
“You know if you didn't like it, why didn't you stop this?” Charles asks Marco, he's tired of being blamed and the one taking the hits when the person responsible for all of this is sitting two seats down from him.
“Because he threatened to cut us off and stop us from working.” Marco was getting agitated and angry.
“Marco shut up!” You exasperated.
“And what? You let your sister take the fall for you, so you could live happily.” Charles shot back, anger for you cursing through his veins.
“Everyone calm down.” Your mum tried to reason but everyone ignored her.
“Oh so you think you care more about her than we do, now?” Matteo sneers and you groan, this testosterone fight is only going to lead to chaos.
“I wasn't the one who left her alone.”
“Okay, you all shut up right now!” your father shouted and everyone fell silent again. “This is unacceptable, Charles and y/n will be married, and you're all going to be happy about it and that's the last I'll hear of it.”
“So now you're telling us how to feel?” The words leave your mouth before you realise, Charles takes your hand in his, and you slowly look from the plate you had in front of you and up to your father, there’s not going back now. “You've dictated our lives, and even now we're all adults you're making us do what you want, we've done
everything you've asked, but you've never been happy, we were never good enough for you.”
“Don't talk back to me.”
“No, it's not fair, you sold me to someone you don't know, I'm your daughter.” You say and turn to look at your mother. “And you keep acting like you love us, when you know everything and just do nothing, you've never stood up to us.” She takes a sip from her wine glass. “Yes, that's all you do, drink.” You stand up and throw your napkin on the plate. “Let's go Charles.”
Charles stands up and follows you out, as your father shouts after you. “You stop right there you stupid girl.”
“I'll get married, okay, I'll do it, I'll do everything in the contract, anything other than that is none of your business.” You say not turning to look at him as you spoke those words and leave your hand clutching Charles's tightly.
Charles doesn't let go of your hand, and it gives you comfort, you have someone on your side at all times now, looking at Charles you're happy it's him you'll marry and not someone else.
“Thank you.” Your voice is just over a whisper, the dinner took too much out of you.
“Why? I don't think I've made it better.”
“No, you made it all so much better.” Charles sends you a questioning look, tightening your hold on his hand. “You were by my side.”
“I'll always be on your side.” Charles says and your heart skips a beat, there, he's done it, Charles Leclerc has done it, he has your heart, it belongs to him now and there's nothing you or anyone could do to change this. Charles doesn't let go of your hand when you arrive, he just holds your hand when you're walking off to his house, not in the elevator, not until you walk in. “Come on, I think we need to talk.”
You sit on the sofa with your legs under you and Charles also sits down facing you.
“I think we should've had this conversation a long time ago.” Charles starts, your heart beats faster in your chest as your eyes meet and you both don't look away. “Why did you agree to this marriage?”
“Because my father said if I don't he’ll cut us all off, he'll make sure none of us ever find work again, and my brothers, they have families and children, I couldn't let him do that to them.” you tell him and push your hair back. “I was happy the last couple of years in Italy and then he just dropped the bomb on me, and… here we are.”
“Here we are.”
“Why did you agree to it?” You've had your theories at the start of this relationship, but as you've gotten to know Charles you realised how wrong you are.
“I know you've read all the articles about me, it's a long story but I've been with my girlfriend for almost five years when I found out she was cheating on me.- Charles said his voice soft, making you take his hand in yours and give him a squeeze. “I spiraled after that, other than racing which isn't going great, I was always drinking and sleeping around, it affected me her cheating more than I thought it'd ever way, it just shocked me and left me not knowing what to do, my reputation was going down and the sponsors were getting anxiety so your father told me if I don't agree to this I'd kiss my dream goodbye, no future in Formula 1, and I couldn't, it's been my dream and I promised my father I'd do everything I could to be world champion and..."
“You haven't made it yet.”
“No, not yet.” You smile before you laugh, Charles looks at you like you're crazy and you shake your head. “Sorry, it's just so messed up, this whole thing is just so messed up.”
”It is.” Charles chuckles and you sigh, this is all a bit too much. “But I’m glad it’s you.”
An involuntary smile makes its way to your face, you just melted, heart skipping a beat and butterflies in your stomach. the whole shebang.
“I’m happy it’s you too, Charlie.” Hearing you call him Charlie makes him smile, your gaze not straying from the other, basking in the moment, a moment you could ignore everything and everyone, a moment that’s just between you too. Maybe this whole arranged marriage thing will be okay in the end.
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Next day you both fly out in Charles’s private jet with his family and team, Lorenzo is still standoffish, but now that you know that he’s in on everything you don’t blame him. He’s not rude to you at all, but he’s cold, something that you attributed to how he was raised. Even though he knows his brother is forced into it, he hasn’t been rude after the first time you met, when he just found out the truth.
The plane landed in Milan where you live, but you went with the family to Monza for the race, promising to take Charles to your studio after the weekend.
The first two days, media and FP1-2, go like how all the other races go, this time you’ve met more drivers, you met Pierre and Kika are one of the ones you met and was found talking to. You and the model exchanged details and followed each other on Instagram, you all went out to have dinner after media day, and you and Kika sat together talking all the time, with Charles and Pierre sat on each side of you not understanding how two people who just met could have this much to talk about and how you talk about everything.
pierregasly posted to their story
caption[ I think i lose my girlfriend @/charles_leclerc]
Charles_leclerc reposted to his story
Caption [looks like it mate]
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Lorenzo was watching the both of you with hawk eyes, he felt like things have changed between the two of you or you’ve become better actors, because why does Charles have his hand on the back of your chair, why is your hands laced together a lot, why are you leaning into him, are do you have inside jokes and share those knowing looks. You’re having deep conversation, a closeness and ease that hasn’t been there before. So he takes the moment you went to Charles’s driver’s room to leave your bag there and took his brother to the side.
”What’s going on with you and y/n?” Enzo asked Charles, his brows furrowing.
”What are you talking about?” Charles asked, his breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding, he’s been denying his growing feelings for you, but it seemed like his brother picked up on it. “We’re just trying to make the best of a… difficult situation.”
Lorenzo wasn’t convinced he knew Charles, he knows there’s more to it.
“Don’t lie to me and don’t lie to yourself, Charles.” Lorenzo said his tone leaving no space for argument. “I can see the way you look at her, the way you care about her, you like her, and I think she likes you too.”
For a moment Charles was silent, his mind racing with emotions and he’s thinking about the time you’ve come to share together and how he’s been enjoying it. he had spent so long denying his feelings for you, burying them down, he tried to tell himself that no he doesn’t find you the prettiest most beautiful woman he has ever met, he hates when you go on rants about the things you love, he hates that you’ve picked up on so many habits he has and have come to understand him, he hates how you’re passionate and warm and kind and soft and elegant, he hates it, he just hates it. But here he is standing in front of his brother, the walls that have been down for a while are just made apparent to him, he just realised them. He nods, and a smile slowly appears on his face.
”Yeah, I do, I do like her.” Charles says his eyes are not meeting his brother’s as he’s lost in thought, his brows move slightly together and then he’s shaking his head no. “No, actually I love her.”
Lorenzo’s expression softened at his brother’s admission, a sense of understanding coming over him. “Then just embrace it, and let her know.”
”I just wish we met under different circumstances.” Charles confessed, his voice tinged with regret. “But either way, I’m just glad that fate brought y/n into my life.”
And as they stood there in the hustle and bustle of the garage, Charles knew that he’s ready, he’s ready to tell you what he feels and maybe start dating for real this time, have a samples of normality in your relationship before you get married.
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After Sunday, Charles’s family flies back to Monaco and the Ferrari driver comes with you to Milan.
“Promise me you won’t judge.” You say to Charles after you turn to look at him, your studio’s key is already in the door waiting for you to twist it.
”I promise, mon amour.” Charles says and your face lights up at his pet name, you couch and turn to face the door.
”Didn’t have to say that.” You mutter and feel your cheeks turn pink, you open the door and lead Charles in, the big windows let in so much light but you go and turn on the light as well. The studios was spacious with high ceiling, paintings where leaning on the wall, a couple were covered, there was pain stains on the ground on the walls, there was a small kitchen to the side and a bathroom, there’s a pull out sofa against one wall with a few chairs littering the place and table with wheels, a table with no wheels, drawers of supplies and easels. This place truly looked like an artist's dream, it was messy but organised, it was all you.
”Wow.” Charles says and walks to the wall that had paintings on it, you follow him, keeping your eyes on him as you take in every little reaction he has. “You’re so talented y/n.”
”Thank you.” You reply softly. “You can flip through the paintings if you want, I'll make us tea.”
Charles has seen a lot of your work on your instagram and you’ve shown him a lot but seeing them in real life he realised they weren’t given justice with the photos, there’s so much detail in the work you’ve done, each brush stroke pressed with intention. Charles moved to the two covered ones, they were on the big size, his curiosity got the best of him and he pulled the fabric down.
”Wait Charles-“ It was too late, he saw them, his mouth hanging open as he stared at… himself.
“That’s-that’s me.” You sigh feeling embarrassed, your face turning red.
”Yeah.” You mumble and cough.
”Fucking hell, mon amour.” Charles turns to look at you and you’re looking away refusing to look in his direction, his eyes soften at your embarrassment. Charles walks up to you and you’re refusing to look at him, so gently cups your cheeks and your eyes meet his, getting lost in the shades of blue and green in his eyes. the shades you know from memory, the colours you painted and brought to life on your canvas. Charle’s breath gets caught in his throat, the words he was planning to say slipping from his mind, so he just presses his lips to yours, you gasp a little before following his lead, your hands clutching his shirt. It’s a moment of vulnerability, the product of simmering feelings that bubbled to reach the surface. your kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and desperate with each passing moment, as you’re trying to pour all your pent-up feeling, emotions and desires into this single electrifying moment. You move closer, your bodies pressed together, holding to each other’s curves, the intensity bordering on desperation.
When you broke apart, gasping for breath Charles’s hands are still cupping your face, his eyes ablaze with fire that threatened to consume you both.
”I love you, y/n.” He whispered, his voice raw with emotion, your heart swelled with joy at his words, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reaches up to caress his cheek.
“And I love you Charles, with everything that I am.”
With a shared understanding and longing and love you sealed the moment with another searing kiss, letting together us a oissionate embrace that seemed to stretch on forever. In that moment, amidst the quietness of the studio, you were no longer bound by a contract, but by the pure and unadulterated love for each other. In each other’s arms you’ve found the only solace and sanctuary you’ve ever needed or wanted.
➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳
It’s not to say that everything turned out to be what you wanted, in a couple months and while Charles was on his winter break your wedding was set. There was no talking your father out of it, but you weren’t dreading the moment anymore. You know that fate was going to bring you together in the end, one way or the other. Yes you’d still be dating, but in the end you’d get engaged and then married. Speaking of engaged, Charles did propose to you, it was a private event, only the two of you on his yacht away from prying eyes, with soft music playing in the background. The monegasque got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. Ignoring the fact that you’re bound by a contact you agreed instantly, tears in your eyes and a smile on your face.
But here you are now standing across from Charles, your eyes locked in a silent exchange if understanding, the weight of their circumstances hung heavy in the air. The officiant, cleared his throat and said his words singling to you to start your vows.
Charles took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he spoke his voice steady yet laced with emotions.
”y/n, I know that our beginning is not the one we would’ve liked for each other, but I’m glad that it did. But I know that fate has intertwined our future together, one way or the other I would’ve made my way to you. In you, I have found a companion, a confidante and a source of strength. I vow to stand by your side through everything that may come our way, to support you, to cherish you and to love you with all that I am, for as long as we live.”
Your heart swelled with emotion as you listened to Charles’ words, your eyes shining with unshed tears. You took a moment to compose yourself before speaking your voice soft but unwavering.
“Charles, Charlie.” You begin and your voice starts to tremble with emotion the more you speak. “When we first met I never imagined that our paths would be so intertwined, that I’d reach a point where I can’t imagine living without you. In you I have found a partner in crime, in life. You’ve showed me so much love that I never experienced before and for that I’ll be always grateful, I vow to stand by your side to be on your team, to lift you up when you falter, to love you unconditionally and with every fibre of my being.”
In that moment, those who doubted you, those that thought they won, those that wished your relationship would end, all knew that as you shared your first kiss as husband and wife, that you’re a team, a family, and that nothing can bring you down. You made each other stronger, you made each other happy, and you had your whole futures in front of you to heal all the wounds you had in the past, you’ll both grow and heal and live together.
Your journey is far from over, there’s so much that you’ll face. But you’ll face it together in each other’s arms, where you felt the purest kind of happiness.
#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 scenario#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles x reader#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc#charles xreader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic#charles leclerc fic#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot
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I hope I’m not bothering you with my ancient greek mythology stuff my little brain is going into overdrive👉👈
Just…sculptor/painter reader using the gladiators as her nude model…running your hands over their muscles and gushing how strong they are and how amazing your latest piece is going to come out!
You don’t even notice they’re getting hard as you run your fingers over their adonis belt commenting how they’re your new muse for your art
I almost (s)creamed the moment I saw this ask nonnie dear you're a genius ;;
Also I feel the need to mention this; please do keep in mind that this is only my silly au and most probably will have historical inaccuracies so if you're a true history/ancient greece/roman enjoyer, please go mild on me ;;
But back to the drill...You are so right??? Like...I imagine that reader would be a young, aspiring artist with a knack for painting. Maybe she doesn't come from a wealthy family so any true school for it is out of the question, your own parents only came along when you started selling your painting and doing commissions for nobles and it actually started to bring in money. Your road to success is still long but you're managing! Plus you're 'stupidly determined like your father' as your mother says so you try to stay positive!
The one problem you had was something you believed many artists suffered from; inspiration and models. Specifically human models. The human body and physique fascinated you from an early age, the moving muscles, facial expressions to different stimuli and so much more but...the problem were the models, or rather the lack thereof.
You could probably hire someone but the money spend on that would be way too much for your limited budget so the next best thing was the coliseum! It was a blessing in poor disguise, the gladiators trained there almost daily and luckily the head keeper of the arena begrudingly let you stay there and practice in exchange for a satchel of money but to be honest...the practice wasn't the only thing you longed for when visiting the coliseum almost daily, it was the gladiators.
They were huge, burly men in their prime, all of them looking like they were born with a sword or spear in hand and to grow up to become warrior and you'd be lying if you said that warmth didn't spread through your body and centered in your lower belly whenever these big, loud and boisterous men didn't call out for you and purred in dripping, low voices how pent up they are and what they wouldn't give for a pretty soft thing like you :((
The worst (or best) part was when you were practicing nude drawings which were equally fascinating and hard to draw, especially with all these men being so...shameless with it. You loved the human body, all artists do but still you were a young lady and watching all the gladiators walking around the barracks all naked and proud was...an experience to say the least and brought a pang of warmth between your thighs, especially when they were so happy to parade themselves like proud stallions in front of you :((
Strong, toned bodies glistening with sweat and water, their hardening cocks proudly on show whenever you run your soft hands over their toned torsos to study the way muscles move and twitch whenever you run your fingers over a sensitive spot, the most reactive being two of the many foreign gladiators, Johnny or like he insisted to be called 'Soap' and Kyle or 'Gaz', like he wants to be called.
These two are always purring low withing their chests to you as you look all over them, their backs, chests, stomachs, making you promise to do a special commission only for them but you're just nodding dumbly because you're too transfixed on the god-like bodies to draw :(
Another gladiator you're very fond of is a huge, blonde foreigner named Simon, or 'Ghost'. A formidable warrior, a veteran for sure, it looked like Ares himself send this one here to grace the people with a demigod of war. He was always incredibly patient with you, letting you roam your hands over his body and all the numerous scars decorating his skin. Once you saw Simon up close you immediately realized why people called him a demigod-he was beautiful. A strong and powerful man in his prime, his muscles jumping and twitching beneath his thick skin and a layer of fat, power and virility was literally radiating off of this man, and you insistently tried not to look at the long and thick cock hanging between his legs, twitching and pulsating with arousal whenever you marveled over his body and your fingers ran over his adonis belt <3
#kin speaks#asks#interactions#THANK YOU FOR THIS#i could go on for hours ;;#gladiator au#gladiator!ghost#cod x reader#cod mw x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#gaz x reader#soap x reader#soap mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish#john soap mactavish x reader
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Steve has a secret, well “secret” may not be the correct way to describe it. He has something for himself, thats what. Ever since he stopped playing basketball and doing swim competitions once he graduated he's had way more free time, which at first he filled with shifts at Family Video, or bothering Robin.
Then, when she started school he started doing art more. Which, may come a surprise to many, as he never really talked about his interest in paintings and old art.
Greek sculptures that are able to show life in a still ethereal way, while still being able to twist it at their will. Renaissance oil paintings, capturing tragedy yet still being able to portray it as beautiful, in their own terrible twisted ways.
He likes sketching on paper, painting on canvas. His paintings aren't usually too different from the things he sees around him. Honestly thats the only things he paints, people, his friends, places he goes, things he sees that stick with him, dreams, moments that play on repeat in his head.
Around his Junior year, after the Demogorgon, Steve had turned the sad basement in his sad empty house, into his own space. A place where he can go and do his art, hang it, play music on his walkman, or using the record player he got from a pawn shop a few months prior. Somehow the basement is the only space that actually feels like his in his house, not even his bedroom.
Steve’s art was not very consistent to be honest, mostly the kids and Robin, landscapes that he liked, the Demogorgon/dogs, the Mindflayer (he needs some way of getting those out of his head, and somehow drawing them down feels freeing.) He does have a few paintings of Nancy from when they were together, she’s become less of a model for his work after everything though.
The last time he painted her in a painting alone, was one of that bathroom in a girl he barely knows’ house, a spilled drink on Nancy’s dress, and red solo cups littering the counter.
Steve’s art shifts though, after a moment that will never leave his mind. He knows who Eddie Munson is, obviously. How could he not? Honestly Steve isn't that surprised Henderson and the others befriended the guy, he does run a DnD club.
But then, Henderson needs a ride home after their club meetings because his mom is working late, and then Lucas and Mike’s parents are also asking Steve to pick them up too. Babysitting duty, as per usual.
Steve arrives a bit earlier than he planned. He didn't have any project to consume himself into, hitting an art block begrudgingly. But then, Steve sees Eddie Munson, sitting on a fake throne, watching the kids and other club members argue, he has his chin rested on his fist, and he's wearing a white tank top, showing off his shoulders, given the fact it’s still September.
The lighting of the small theater room captures Steve’s interest like a moth to the flame, and he is regretting having left his sketchbook at home, even though he never draws around the kids or anyone he knows.
Eddie Munson’s face and curly locks fill up the pages of Steve’s journal and some canvases for months after, and Steve rarely genuinely complains about coming to pick the kids up.
Afterwords, months later from that day. Chrissy Cunningham dies, and Eddie Munson almost goes with her. God, or whatever deity that was looking down upon him, was on Steve’s side in that moment, when he was able to revive Eddie and then drag him out of the Upside Down.
Steve gets closer with Eddie after that, they become actual friends. Steve was so used to witnessing his muse from afar, it was so…exciting, to see Eddie in all his glory, just a few feet away, and his smile being directed at him.
“Do you even have any hobbies, Harrington?” Steve blinks. Him, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and the party, are all hanging out by the pool. Steve is lounging on one of the chairs, sunglasses over his eyes as Eddie talks beside him.
“What?” Steve responds.
“I mean…I like barely ever see you do anything besides sort Movies at Family Video, or boss around the kids. Like, what do you do when we're not all together?” Eddie asks, moving his hand a little as he talks. Steve thinks for a moment.
“Funny,” Steve answers instead. Eddie scoffs.
“I'm being serious, man! What do you do?” Eddie laughs a little, most likely at the ridiculousness of it all. What would Steve know, Eddie is like a puzzle, and Steve has to take every minute slowly, deciphering everything he lays out for him, via tongue or action.
“I don't know, what do you do?” Steve says, almost carefully.
“Band stuff, DnD, Writing,” Eddie lists. “And I guess saving the world now, but thats a bit of a side hussle.” Steve scoffs.
“Whatever, man.” And thats that, they don't talk about it again. But it sticks with Steve, because his friends really do think he doesn't do anything with his life. It's not like he has college classes to study for, so what does he do?
Later, maybe two or three weeks after, Steve decides he wants to show Eddie his space. The two of them are alone, Robin is in Nevada, visiting her grandparents, so the trio’s usual movie night is cut down to a duo’s movie night.
Although Steve finds himself mostly focusing on Eddie and his beautiful hair sitting next to him, than watching ET. The little alien scares him a bit anyway. Eddie notices him staring though, his eyes flickering to meet Steves, then a smirk spreading across his lips.
“We are watching a movie, lover boy.” Eddie says. Steve goes red, his gaze shifting to his lap. Steve furrows his eyebrows then stands and shuts the TV off. “Woah! Hey!”
“I want to show you something.” Steve says, it's a bit quieter than he meant it to be, but his tone indicates something to Eddie, which has him staring at Steve, starstruck.
Steve walks out the room and hears Eddie follow him. He gets to the basement door and opens it, flicks on the stair light.
“Basement- woah- okay, guess I'm getting murdered. Thought I’d go out in a more metal way than this.” Eddie says as they walk down. Steve laughs a little and shakes his head.
“I just think you should see this.” Steve says. “Nothing life threatening, I promise.”
“Alright, I trust you, Stevie.”
“Good.”
Steve turns and flicks on the light as they step onto the concrete. The lights flicker on, revealing the paintings on the walls and art supplies on the tables and counters.
“Woah-” Eddie says. “Is this, all your stuff?” Steve sighs, he folds his arms and faces Eddie. He looks shellshocked.
“Yeah.” Steve says. “You said I don't have any hobbies, I do, actually.” Eddie looks around, walking slowly.
“Is that Henderson? Why is he wearing yellow gloves?” Eddie asks. Steve walks over to a painting of Dustin from Steve’s angle while they were walking on the train tracks, a bucket of raw meat is in one hand and he's wearing the headphones for his radio.
“D’Art,” Steve says. “That was when we were leading him away. I made that one after everything happened. I was trying not to think about the Demogorgon stuff and everything, so I just drew him. I have one of Max from that day I never finished painting in a stack I think too.” Eddie doesn't say anything for a minute after Steve is done explaining.
“You can paint.” Eddie says, though not like a question. “These are beautiful…” Eddie looks around and walks to another one he sees. It's one of the Byers and Hopper’s, all hugging while laughing. El looks the happiest. Steve had painted that after they had all gotten together after everything. “Why…didn't you tell anyone?”
“About what?” Steve asks, folding his arms as Eddie brings up a hand to touch the painting.
“This- Steve, you're amazing at this. These are…” Eddie trails off as something catches his eye, he slowly starts to walk towards a big painting propped up behind one of the tables laid out in the middle of the room. Steve walks to him to see which one he's looking at.
An angel, knelt over a puddle, crying as it stares at his reflection, which is blurred and dark. He stands in a forest, his wings are long and huge, sprawling out above him.
It’s one of Steve’s bigger ones, the inspiration came from a dream he had after they had read about Icarus in his english class back in Highschool.
“It’s… magnificent.” Eddie whispers. Steve smiles gently at Eddie’s reaction. Eddie backs up a bit and looks away from the painting. “Is that me?” Steve follows his eye, to the painting. Eddie walks towards it, Steve stays behind him. It’s the first one Steve ever made of Eddie, the one of him on the throne.
“Yeah, it is.” Steve says. “I made that the first night I came to pick up the kids.” He says. “The first time I met you, actually met you.” They share a look.
“You are incredible, Steve Harrington.”
#this was way longer than i meant it to be#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#stranger things#stranger things 4#steddie ficlet#sock meister drabbles#hope yall liked this cuz it got kinda stuck in my head after i had a whole class on art and the renaissance so
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My Adventures with Superman EP 4: Design Works
My goodness it feels so strange to see these designs two years later but I actually had a hand in Clark, Lois and Jimmy’s gala suits in episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman!
This happened WAY back in Sept 2021 but during my first week on the show I jokingly sent a piece of art to one of the design leads and well, one thing led to another:
This is kind of running gag with my work, but I somehow always predict things when I draw fanart haha. I truly didn’t know there was gonna be a gala episode and now I was tasked to do a pass for the main trio’s gala outfits.
CLARK KENT
Naturally since it started with Clark, he was the first one I did a pass on. I actually really like men’s suits design so this was the most fun to design out of the three. Overall, I drafted up four different suits that gave 4 different feels for our soft boi. Option A was a full 3 piece with slick backed hair (which honestly now feels very Bruce Wayne than Clark haha). Option B had a high school prom feel, Option C was more business casual (hence why his dress shirt was unbuttoned at top) and finally Option D was sleek turtleneck & suit combo. Honestly, I was rooting Option D ‘cause I’m a sucker for a turtleneck but if I remember correct they went with Option B ‘cause it felt the most Clark. But just know I tried haha.
LOIS LANE
Lois’s outfit was quite challenging since I had no clue until I was given the assignment that she’s Korean (yes, Lois is canonically Korean in the show). I remember the design leads Jane Bak and Dou Hong showing me a rough concept of a modern hanbok. I spent so many days researching hanboks and the construction behind them...it truly was a learning experience for me haha. It was quite challenging trying to create and outfit that spoke to Lois’ heritage while still keeping her energy. This was my very first pass but I think ultimately the team did a great job to hone in the final look and balance both elements for her outfit (the backless top is just chef’s kiss). Also yes, I did try giving Lois slick back hair haha.
JIMMY OLSEN
There isn’t much to say about Jimmy’s outfit (sadly I left the production to work on Spiderman Freshman Year before seeing what they decided on). But from what I remember, I specifically was looking at men’s outfits from the Met Gala from that year and before (I think Chadwick Boseman was the biggest influence for me at the time). Though I think his final suit design aren’t like too far off from my initial thoughts, it’s still super cool to see how it evolved into the final look!
But yeah! Just a little behind the scenes on the work I got to do on the show. Again, super brief since Spidey was calling my name but I truly had so much fun getting to design for this show. MAWS was my first ever time doing design work (since I primarily work as a 2D animator and board artist). I was so nervous but the team was welcoming and taught me so much! I really have to thank Dou Hong and Jake Wyatt for taking a chance on me and allowing me to draw hot anime characters for a DC show haha.
#long post#my adventures with superman#maws#maws spoilers#superman#lois lane#clark kent#jimmy olsen#digital art#character design
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Collection of Free Art Tutorials
I don't usually make text post on this blog, but a nice artist I know was asking for tutorials a while back and I forgot to send some to them while in school. So here's a post on it since it's easiest to grab and go this way. :)
This list focuses on the basics. I'm focusing on the foundations of art, so medium is generally irrelevant and you can use physical or digital with these. You'll have to google more specific tutorials on things like character design and such.
One of the biggest pieces of advice I can give to you is strangely, introduce things to yourself one at a time. In art class, we took whole topics week by week. For high school, we did a few exercises then spent a week drawing/painting and doing your piece(s). For basic art 1 & 2 in college, we did 1-2 exercises and then did 1-2 drawings, followed by HW (which we turned in next week) and sketchbook practice (which she'd check at midpoints). For basic art lessons with a tutor, we did practice then our own art. You can see the pattern here - the point is don't be distressed if you don't get everything at once, or the lesson in 2 weeks, or the lesson in 3 years - we practice and do a lot over time, and you'll pick up on things you need to improve naturally and through help with others. Take time to be proud of your art in mini steps too, even if it's not the best! You tried and attempting to climb an obstacle over and over again before finally leapfrogging it is still progress to it.
Overall tutorials:
DrawABox.com is a site that's dedicated to art exercises and practicing when you can. They talk about the basics of art as well as how practice is important. It can get tough at times and it's ok to stop and do a balance of say those practices and doodles if you choose to try and do all of it's stuff - but you don't have to either. It's just a nice basic education done by some art nerds who like going hard.
Ethering Brothers - these guys are famous for their 40billion tutorials. If you need help on a specific idea, search their gallery and you'll likely find something.
Thundercluck's Art Fundamentals - She did a good huge ass tutorials on how things work, and it's the least overwhelming of the 3 I got in this section, so I suggest it as one of the first to look at for digital stuff.
Art Instructions Blog - Another good & simpler website that goes great into fundamentals. They focus more on traditional art but if you're digital, you can replicate most of the techniques - art fundamentals and subjects cover all mediums. Very important
Drawsh - Particularly notes on Construction: construction is the basics of building an illusion of a 3D image on a page. Figuring out how to build shape gives depth to your work, and learning how to see in 3D lets you be able to draw an item then move it around in your head (sometimes, when you're good enough, don't be afraid to pull out a reference or use live subjects). Construction is how to figure out the foundation of your drawing, and good planning = better picture!
This link starts at the back, hit newer post to go forward.
There's a lot on anatomy and other nitty gritty details for when you want to practice those as well.
Griz and Norm's Assorted tips - Long time artist talk about various tips and tricks they use in art and how to avoid certain pitfalls. It's eclectic but great to look through.
James Gurney's Blog - He's got a lot of thoughts, a lot of tips, and a lot of adventures he catalogues. It's the least organized out of these but fortunately he has plenty of tags and most post have something neat going on. He's fantastic!🥰
BEFORE ALL OTHER BASICS….
How to Make Your Art Look Nice: Mindset
There's a lot of artist with different perspectives on how to approach art and your mindset while doing it, but the general consensus is that it's a process and sometimes you have to remind yourself to enjoy art!
Line
How to draw straight lines without a ruler. …but for the love of all that's good do NOT feel bad about using one! This talks about how to hold your pencil and how to do some good freehand stuff, some good practice.
5 grips for holding a Pencil for Drawing - This goes for pencil, pen, tablet, etc.. Get comfortable and figure out what's right for you and your pictures. I'd like to note that paintbrush holding will overlap, but some will differ.
A few line drawing exercises that help with line confidence.
Types of line drawings & what they are.
Contour Line & exercises with Mrs. Cook - Contour lines are one of the first art exercises I do in all the drawing classes I've taken. The good news is that they're surprisingly fun & look neat, even the blind contours!
Good deep thoughts on lines and how to use them.
Line Weight Tutorial
Lineart Weight Tips!
How to show variation in your line art: part 1 & part 2.
Some teacher's Drawing 1 & 2 lessons put online.
Light, Shadow, & Value
An introduction to tonal values.
Why values are important. The main reasons are that they give depth to a piece, and values literally shape our world.
Tonal Values: Everything you need to know
How does light work & the basics on Light
Light & Shadow in Art - much more in depth of the above! Highly recommended if you have time to spare.
Understanding grayscale/monochrome art. Great for shading & planning.
A guide to Cross Hatching (and hatching in general) - As a side note, crosshatching is one of the early things taught as it marries Line + Value into a nice neat package and helps add form with just a pen.
Crosshatching for Comics
Learn more about coloring by working in grayscale
How to Make Your Art Look Nice - Contrast!
Using lighting to make your art look nice.
Some light & shadow classifications.
Edges - notes on how they work in shading.
Color
A side note - color theory doesn't differ much, but color MIXING will change between mediums. If you're doing traditional colored pencil, you're overlapping 2 or more pigments on top of each other. If you're doing traditional paint, you're mixing & creating a solution/emulsion (depends on the pigment and binding) of pigments with the particles reflecting light in different ways. In digital, overlapping colors & blending colors depend on how the program you use calculates it if you're not just putting 2 color side by side. This just means you have to adjust your mixing when you switch between them. :)
Slawek Fedorczuk's Light & Color Tips - also shows how to guide through a scene.
The Color Tutorial Part 1 & 2 by Sashas - A personal favorite.
Color Studies 1-6 by Sheri Doty
Amazingly nice breakdown on how color works in simple terms.
Sarah Culture's Tips on Color
The value of underpainting
A few notes on reflective light.
Experimental color techniques with Alai Ganuza: first post, second, & third.
Color zones of the face charts
Composition
Good Tips on Composition
Here's an example of how you can search the Etherington Brothers' stuff and get like 10 tutorials and tips on one subject. Composition & Cover Design, Shadow Composition, Two Line Composition - plus more.
How to make your art look nice: Thumbnailing!
And don't be afraid to make silly thumbnails or sketches.
Composition Examples - charts like these are great when you can't think of something yourself. There's no shame in using them.
Flow and Rhythm
Formulas for landscape composition.
Perspective
Perspective Drawing Tutorial by Julie Duell
Linear & Atmospheric Perspective Guide
One Point Perspective City Tut by Swingerzetta
Niso Explains Perspective - these are great for drawing figures in perspective!
Putting characters into scenes and drawing backgrounds
Backgrounds that make your character stand out!
Using background detail to guide the eye.
Odds and Ends
I shit you not, probably 1/3rd of my color, value, & structure knowledge comes from pixel art since I've done so much of it and it is all about challenging yourself to do the most you can with limitations. Check out lospec's tutorial database for fun and see how it compares to art techniques you're doing - even if you never try a medium, it's always interesting to see how it works. :D
How to Make Your Art Look Nice: Reference Images & Style, Pushing Proportions, and developing style.
Foervraengd talks about how he expanded his comfort zone with concept art & landscape drawing.
Luna Art talks about what they're thinking when doing concept art.
Repeating visual motifs in character design looks cool.
Eric's Thoughts on Drawing Backgrounds and Props.
Show vs. Tell: Why Visual is Not Optional in comics.
The Lost Vocabulary of Visual Story Telling Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, & Day 4.
Traditional Animation's 2 Digital Library books, The Know-How of Cartooning by Ken Hultgren & Advanced Animation by Preston Blair are two books from the golden age of animation they have up on their site for free viewing!
Animation resources dot org has a lot of cool stuff. Here's Nat Falk's How to Make Animated Cartoons (part 1). Their pages on Instruction & Theory are a good start.
Books
Good news: the internet archive has a TON of resources. Make sure to check around and toggle filters, it's a bit weird with organization. For example, a book can be under art or drawing - techniques, depending on who catalogues it.
Andrew Loomis is someone artist tend to die-hard reccomend. His work is collected here & here on the internet archive (one is Andrew Loomis, the other is Loomis, Andrew - thanks). I own Figure Drawing for All It's Worth and I recommend checking all of his stuff out, especially if you're having trouble with bodies and hands.
The Animator's Survival Guide by Richard Williams is mandatory in animation classes for good reason - it's fantastic!
Perspective for Comic Book Artist by David Chelsea is great for any type of artist. So is Extreme Perspective & Perspective in Action.
Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics, Reinventing Comics, & Making Comics. The first one is on the internet archive, the second two are likely avaliable at your library or at a bookstore as they're pretty popular.
Speaking of comics, Drawing Comics the Marvel Way has been a favorite of comic artist for years no matter what comic book companies and artist you like, it's a good introduction.
Anything by or endorsed by James Gurney, Color and Light: A Guide for the Realistic Painter is one of my favorites (this is his official page but you can get them elsewhere for cheaper too).
Art resource blogs with good tagging systems: @artist-refs , @help-me-draw , @helpfulharrie , @art-res , @drawingden , & @how-to-art
Lastly, I suggest if you find something you like online for free, SAVE IT! Whether it is through the Wayback Machine, screenshotting a whole webpage, reblogging/retweeting something, or putting it on pinterest, digital media is fickle and tends to go up in smoke when you least expect it. I have a partially organized Pinterest board that helped me find most of the stuff I wanted to keep. Figure out what works for you and save what you can.
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Midnight Muse (Part 20)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 4,679
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Masterlist]
Notes: Some of this might seem familiar hehe
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You look so beautiful, lying in his bed like that, nothing but your bare skin on display.
The evidence of last night is still marked on your skin; bruises littering your body from your neck to your breasts, from your hip bones to the inside of your thighs. Azriel had gotten over eager at all of the different noises you’d made as he’d explored your skin into the early hours of the morning, and after another round of raucous sex, you’d fallen asleep in the warmth of his arms.
Even with your comforting presence beside him, sleep evaded Azriel.
Last night must have been some sort of dream. There was no possible way that he had taken out the one person who’s been a pestering annoyance all year, and somewhere along the way that irritation became infatuation.
And you’ve seen through his harsh exterior, the barrier he puts between himself and others. He hasn’t allowed anyone to touch him like this since after the accident. Hell, he still flinches sometimes when his friends come up behind him and slap him on the shoulder. It was that same motion his step-brothers had given him before they beat him into the ground and drug him in his fathers backyard.
But you are a whirlwind of fresh air, infatuated with the scarring of his hands, before you even knew the harrowing story, the trauma that came with them. You never shied away like other girls. No, you had kissed them and touched them and…and it means everything to Azriel.
He held you for a while, long after his fingers began itching for the familiar feel of his pencils in hand. Wide awake, he snuck out of his bed and over to his desk, flipping the sketchbook filled with images of you—the very same one that had your eyes tearing up—to a fresh page.
He had gotten lucky that you didn’t react poorly to what is essentially a shrine to you. Pages upon pages of drawings of you, in this one sketchbook he normally keeps hidden on his shelf. How had he been so stupid as to leave it out? Right, because he’d be so fucking nervous to pick you up for his exhibition that the only thing that could ease his racing mind and shaky hands was drawing you.
The apartment is silent, had been all night from what he can remember. He doesn’t care if his roommates hear anyway, they’ll all figure it out eventually and tell him that they told him so.
He can’t fucking wait.
Sleep wears on his body, trying to pull him down, but his mind is wide awake. Creative, is what he calls it, insomniac others called him. He won’t dare sleep a wink when you’re there to draw his attention. You sleep so prettily, the morning sun cascading across your body as it rises, casting shadows across your skin in the most interesting way, highlighting those marks he’s left on your skin…
For now, the marks are hickeys, but his head is already filled with tattoo ideas for your body.
He takes his pencil to his paper. He has minutes to get you down in his book, if that. He doesn’t know when you’ll shift, if the sun will wake you or if everything that happened will come flooding in like a nightmare. He wonders how you will react, if it will be poor or if you will pout, telling him to come back to bed. He shoves the thoughts from his mind and focuses on his sketchpad.
Azriel snags a kneaded eraser, blackened with use. There are shards of charcoal strewn about his desk, brushed to the sides for a cleaner workspace. The chalk clings to his skin instantly and he breathes out a sigh of contentment at its familiar texture. He rolls it between his fingers and looks back up to you, the sudden urge to press his sooty fingertips against your skin barreling through his thoughts.
His heart skips a beat at that, the idea of you covered in the essence of his art, of him, on you.
The drawings in his sketchpad are both rushed and not. Lazy, languid strokes when he has all of the time in the world to recount how you’d glared up at him. Quick, harsh lines of a fleeting look, your gaze brushing across his.
The smooth, cream paper is fresh on both sides, a blank canvas inviting him to soil with his charcoal. The blankness, like the void of night he often shies away from, instead of letting it cocoon him with sleep. Azriel’s eyes ache to fall shut but his mind won’t allow it, a thousand different images of you from the night he has yet to add to the rapidly filling book propped up on his knee.
Azriel takes a deep breath, lets himself bask in the picture of you again, sheet twisted around your body, barely covering your sex. He hasn’t been so fortunate that you kicked off the thin sheet while you slept. Maybe next time.
He’s quick to get your form down. Your face, a quick circle for your skull, a tinier one following for your cheek where it’s pressed into the pillow. A line marking the bed. A box for the window so he can draw the rays of sun washing in over you. Maybe he’ll even add a halo to your messy hair.
The curve of your body is drawn in such a fluid motion it surprises him for a moment, but after last night, he knows the dips of your silhouette better than he knows his beloved bike. The drawing spans across both pages. One wouldn’t be enough to capture the raw beauty of you this morning, though he might have five other sketches of you sleeping from when he’d found you in his bed that night.
Azriel draws the swell of your breasts, your hand, relaxed at your hip, sketching the general shapes of you down before you shift. Realize that he’s missing from next to you.
And his hands don’t shake.
With two quick drags of his chalk there are your eyelids. His hand moves on its own and he does nothing to stop it. He almost doesn't’ draw the lines of the sheet, instead there’s a fleeting moment in his exhausted brain where he thinks about drawing that sweet little cunt of yours but it’s gone as fast as it comes, even if his dick does twitch in response. Instead, he drapes the bending lines across your hips before filling it in with the flat of his stick. Azriel uses his eraser to make the highlights and smudges the lines with his finger until they’re buttery smooth.
He loves the way that the chalk sticks to his skin. The onyx dust coats his hands and covers the blemishes adoring his fingertips. It feels like a second skin, a plate of armor against unwanted stares, except for yours, of course.
Tracing the lines of your fingers, Azriel begins to add the finer details now that he has your base. His mind always tends to wander through the self hatred shadowing the corners of his mind when he’s tired. The loud music only helps on some nights, but in your presence, it seems as if you’ve scared them away like a beacon of light.
He studies the way the light highlights certain areas of your body and hides others, filling in the paper with the thick stick of charcoal. The eraser is in his other hand, ready to really pull out those highlights from the chunk of black he’s just colored in.
Occasionally, he blows the soot off of the page. It lifts, swirling around in the rays of the morning sun and he’s distracted by how pleasing it looks. Reminds him of the whorls of swirling black in twining between the tattoos on his shoulders.
He scrubs the powder into the grains of the paper. His hands are a mess, and the medium sticks to the eraser he’s kneading into a point so he can carve out your nipples tight from the chilly air. He looks back up to you and then back at the page, his tongue poking between his lips as he focuses on the important task at hand.
It’s a shame that you haven’t woken up yet. He’s done with his picture and he doesn't know what to do now, what to draw because you haven’t yet shifted in your sleep. Azriel thinks about climbing back into the bed behind you because every blink feels like there’s sand in his eyes.
He knows that he needs to sleep. Knows that there are dark circles around his eyes and his skin is getting that sickly look his mother used to scold him about when he was young and stayed up all night studying anatomy on the internet.
Instead, Azriel pulls the chair closer to the bed. He could move behind you and draw your backside, but he thinks better of it, wanting to sketch the more intimate parts of you like your face or where the crook of your arm barely covers the curve of your breast.
He focuses on one thing at a time. Your hand. He draws your breast and the hickey he’d left surrounding it last night. Chalks up that scar on your shoulder that he has yet to ask you about. So many things he doesn’t know yet, but your body is not one of them. He draws the curves of your ear and the piercings shoved into them. Sketches the column of your throat, also mottled with marks from his mouth.
He wonders if you’ll be upset with him when you look in the mirror and see those, knowing that you have class tomorrow.
Azriel smirks at the thought of that copper haired fuck getting a glimpse of those. He hadn’t sucked them into your neck so high because of Lucien, but the thought of him seeing them anyway makes Azriel’s chest puff a little. You hadn’t had sex with Lucein, no, your tight cunt is all for him. Only him.
He peers down at you again. Watch you for even longer, hand frozen over the page. He’s staring again but you’re not awake to catch him.
From somewhere behind him, the buzz of his phone goes off. Azriel places his sketchbook back on the desk and rubs his filthy hands on a tissue he pulls from the box on the shelf. Black streaks the thin material but it’s not enough to clean his skin. Uncaring, Azriel crumples the tissue and tosses it into his trash can.
He finds his pants haphazardly discarded on the floor. It’s too early for Cassian or Rhysand to be texting him, and all of his notifications for social media are set to off. It’s a Sunday, so he’s not entirely sure who it could be.
The screen of the phone lights up with the text and the floor falls from beneath Azriel’s feet.
It’s his father, demanding to meet.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“Here you are boys,” Rita says with a kind smile. She sets a large stack of pancakes with extra butter in front of Cassian and a breakfast special before Rhysand. Azriel’s hands haven’t stopped shaking enough for him to be able to pick up a fork yet, nor the hot mug of black coffee in his hands. Rita offers him a consoling glance—she’s always had that mothers instinct—that Azriel ducks away from. “Nice to see you around here again.”
Azriel is thankful that Rita refrains from asking any questions. He hasn’t shown up to her diner with Rhysand and Cassian since after their freshman year when Cassian figured out he could pull almost anyone he wanted and Rhysand found other places to frequent, more sophisticated to the trust fund he’d inherited for his high grades his first year away.
It feels like he hasn’t seen them in ages even though they live together. Rhys has been too busy with Feyre and Cassian’s been chasing tail as usual, but the both of them had formed a group with you and your roommate, and since Azriel has been so stubborn as to not force himself into your presence, he hasn’t seen much of his best friends as of late.
Little do they know that he’s more than acquainted with you now.
Azriel had used their special code this morning after reading the text his father sent him. The one that would ensure both Rhysand and Cassian would drop anything at any second and meet him here, at Rita’s diner.
It still looks the same as it did two years ago, with its funky neon boomerang pattern adorning the tables, straight from the 80’s. The bright blue booths and barstools have been replaced since then, but some of them are still worn, pleather ripped open and showing a yellow foam inside.
The food is just as good as it’s always been, and he doesn’t understand why they’d stopped coming here, but he always found solace in the quiet diner and the company of the owner. It became a safe haven for Azriel, when he had a bad day and needed a milkshake to make him feel better and he couldn’t ride his motorcycle. He could barely grip the straw in the cup after the accident, his hands so burnt up he’d been almost embarrassed to leave his apartment at all.
A jukebox sits on the far side of the restaurant, and he remembers shoving loads of quarters into it and setting a queue so long that it had the other patrons moaning and groaning on Friday nights while he, Cassian, and Rhysand sat in this very booth and had the time of their lives.
These days, he feels like he doesn’t know a thing about what’s going on in their lives. He doesn’t know how they’re doing in their classes, what Cassian got on his sculpting project. He doesn’t even know if Rhysand still works at the art supply store. He’d steal Azriel a kneaded eraser every other week, but since he’s met Feyre, nothing.
It’s not that he needs the eraser, but Azriel expects his friends to check in on him, and he knows that these things go both ways, that he’s been an irritable prick the last few months, kept his own secrets from them, but they’re all best friends, damnit, and he wants someone to ask after him, too.
Cassian doesn’t seem to notice any of the tension keeping Azriel’s shoulders rigid, glancing behind him with a slight furrow in his brows, but Rhysand’s violet eyes are tinged with the only worry Azriel’s emergency message could cause, and he hasn’t touched his meal.
“What’s going on, Az?” Rhys asks.
“Is this about those noises we heard last night?” Cassian tacks on, stuffing a bite of pancakes into his mouth.
“What?” Azriel coughs. Chokes, really. He manages to take a sip of the hot coffee, but it does little to soothe the lump in his throat. He hadn’t known they’d been home at all.
“Cass,” Rhys scolds, elbowing his friend. “I told you not to bring that up.”
“A whole fucking year since Azzy’s been laid and you want me not to bring it up?” Cassian shoots back, “That’s impossible. I’m only a man, Rhys. I need details.”
Rhysand rolls his eyes, shooting Azriel an apologetic look. He spears his fork into the fluffy eggs on his plate, looking expectantly at his friend for an answer as to why they’re all here at the asscrack of dawn.
“I can, uh, explain that part later,” Azriel scratches his head awkwardly. “But that’s not why I called you here.”
“Is it because of everything that’s been going on recently?” Rhysand asks, and he seems almost ashamed as he sets his fork down again. “Look, Az. I know we haven’t been best friends as of late, especially with the whole (Y/N) thing, and I want to apologize for that. I hadn’t realized how my relationship with Feyre might be affecting you and—”
“And we fucking miss you dude,” Cassian interrupts. “Where are you always running off to? Is it to that girl’s place?”
Azriel shakes his head. So they’ve noticed what’s been going on with him, how he’s always having to find something to occupy himself with while they’re hanging out next door. The last time he’s properly hung out with either of his roommates was when he’d heard you through the wall as you touched yourself.
Fuck, just the thought of you has Azriel shifting in his seat, his cock stirring at the thought of you lied up in his bed, your bare skin on display. He had left you a note with his number and an excuse so lame he cringed as he wrote it, regretting it as soon as he fled the apartment.
He hopes that you text him, or that you’re still asleep by the time he is done with this. He could use some comfort after this.
“No,” Azriel sighs, playing with the handle of his mug. “She’s not the only thing I haven’t been completely honest with you about.” He waits for a reaction from his roommates, either Cassian to start guessing what he’s been up to or Rhysand’s touch of betrayal, but nothing comes. His roommates stare at him, waiting for an explanation. “I’ve been, ah, interviewing for apprenticeships.”
“What? That’s awesome Az,” Cassian grins widely, but it’s not awesome.
Azriel shrugs. “Nothing’s come of it yet, but maybe soon.” He doesn’t tell them about how many times he’s interviewed and failed to score the job. It’s too mortifying. “And I had an exhibition last night. At Opulence.”
Rhysands eyes nearly bug out of his head. His father is an investor in that gallery. If Azriel wanted a showing, he could’ve pulled some strings.
But Azriel didn’t want that. He wanted to earn something on his own, knowing that it isn’t his art that’s keeping him from chasing his dreams. He has a backup plan if tattooing doesn’t pick up, and this is the first step in that career path. Drawing is still something that he loves, and it will be nice to have some sort of income until he can hone his tattooing enough for someone to take a chance on him.
He wants to shrink under his friends’ wide-eyed stares. They’re looking at him like he’s just announced he’s having a child or something, and the silence is making him a little uncomfortable. He checks the time on his phone, cringing, and notices that there isn’t any message from you yet.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Cassian asks, tone low. He looks like a kicked puppy right now, with a wounded look on his face.
“I thought you guys might be too busy,” Azriel answers, just as soft. His throat tightens and he doesn’t like the feeling, doesn’t like the looks on their faces, the hurt in their eyes. “I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Fuck, Az,” Rhys says, pushing his plate away from him. “We’ve been shit friends lately, haven’t we?”
“It’s not that big of a deal, Rhys—”
“It is that big of a deal!” Azriel can tell that Rhysand wants to explode, but he’s always been too good at keeping his composure. It’s a trait he got from his father. “We’ve been parading around, leaving you to your own devices all semester and now we don’t even know what’s going on in your life anymore? Fuck, I feel like the shittiest person in the world right now.”
Rita swings around to check in on the three of them and senses the tension immediately. Azriel sends her an apologetic look for all of the commotion and Cassian’s avoiding everyone’s eyes altogether, craning his neck around the owner towards the counter. Rhysand’s heavy violet gaze doesn’t leave Azriel’s.
“Are you boys doing all right over here?” She asks, brushing a strand of graying brown hair behind her ear. She stands closer to Azriel’s side of the booth, a protective wall should he need her.
His chest warms.
“I’d like to put in an order for blueberry waffles, please,” Rhysand says, “To go.”
Azriel deflates a little in his seat when Rita walks away. So this is how it’s going to be, then.
Cassain takes the reins because Rhysand seems too worked up to continue. “When those waffles come, we’re going to the store and buying ice cream, and then we’re going home to talk about everything we missed,” he says, and Azriel finally looks up. They ordered the waffles for him. They remembered that? When he said his ultimate comfort food was blueberry waffles and ice cream when they’d all gotten a misdemeanor for spray painting one of the buildings on the outskirts of town. They’d only gotten a fine for it, and an escort back to town, but it had spooked the three of them enough that their reign of spray painting started and ended in one night. Azriel thought his father would kill him when he found out and they found themselves right in this very booth, with enough waffles and ice cream to feed a small army. It turns out, Rhysand had called his father and pulled some strings, and the incident was cleared from their records. “We’re sorry for being such pricks lately.”
“I’m sorry too,” Azriel admits, and even though he hasn’t called them here for this, he feels lighter. “For not telling you.”
“I’ll forgive you if you tell me who you were with last night,” Cassian shrugs, stuffing another bite of food into his mouth. “She sounded like she was having fun.”
Azriel’s spine straightens and his grip around his mug tightens. He knows the walls are paper fucking thin but he doens’t like the idea of his roommates hearing the noises you make when he fucks you into his bed.
“Later,” he answers again, and it comes out sharper than he’d intended. Rhysand’s brows furrow and Cassian’s grin widens. Instead of allowing them to ask any more prying questions, Azriel blurts, “My father texted me this morning.”
“Fuck,” Cassian spits, then shouts over his shoulder, “Rita, we’re going to need two more orders of waffles!”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Azriel sits across from his carbon copy, and he doesn’t like it one fucking bit.
He hasn’t seen his father since before the accident, when his new step-sons had lit his hands on fire in an attempt to fuck with his art career. He knows that his father doesn’t want him to be an artist. It’s business, the man across from him would rather see him in. Following his footsteps, however…small they might be.
Azriel’s hands are clenched tightly in his lap. Rhysand and Cassian sit at the bar only a few feet away. His father either hadn’t noticed his two friends or didn't care, calling for a black coffee as he slid into the booth, a crinkle of disgust to his nose.
Azriel had almost smiled at that.
Neither of them have spoken yet. His father is typing something on his phone, his thick gold ring catching the light shining in from the window. His gray suit is pressed perfectly and his sunglasses are pushed up into the dark hair styled perfectly on his head.
Azriel waits.
He doesn’t want to be anywhere near his father, thought he made that clear with his lack of responses to phone calls and texts. He thought that they were on the same page, actually, when his father hadn’t visited him in the hospital after the incident that happened by his step-sons in his house.
Azriel’s hands tremble with rage.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, only because he knows his father will wait him out, and he wants the fucker gone as soon as possible. He has things to get back to, like you and his artwork. Mostly you.
His father doesn’t bother with niceties. No greetings, no ‘nice to see you’s’ because it would all be a lie, anyway. They’ve merely put up with each other their entire lives, and that doesn’t stop today.
“I’ve found an opportunity nearby,” His father says, finally slipping his phone into the interior pocket of his suit jacket.
“And?” Azriel asks, boredly. He doesn’t fucking care, but the idea that his father might be in this town more often should he invest makes him want to squirm.
His father pins him with a scathing look. One that used to terrify Azriel when he was young. Now, it only makes him hate the man more.
“And,” his father taps that thick gold ring against the ceramic of his mug impatiently. The sound makes Azriel’s teeth grit. “I want to know about the area.” His gaze lingers on Azriel’s hands. He sucks his teeth, “If you’d consider it profitable.”
“Take a walk around,” Azriel waves lazily towards the windows. There aren’t many people milling about this early in the morning, and he hopes the lack of them drives his father away from this town. “I certainly don’t have the time to do it.”
“You don’t have the time to do it between drawing those stick figures and nonsense you ruin your body with?” His father quirks his brow and from the corner of his eyes he watches the way Rhysand and Cassian’s spines lengthen.
Oh, he knows that Azriel’s still not taking the classes he wants to force him into. Azriel doesn’t want a fucking thing to do with his father’s business, even if he’s owed it by name when he retires. He wouldn’t dare give it to those step-sons of his, they’re not his by blood. Azriel knows that the fucker won’t.
When Azriel doesn’t answer, his father continues. “I’m looking at the 3rd street apartments,” he says, and Azriel’s world stops. His breath catches in his throat and he’s lucky that he hadn’t eaten anything. That’s his apartment building, and by the smirk on his father’s face, he knows it too, even if Azriel’s been paying his own rent through odd summer jobs and tutoring. “It could use some updating, and when summer rolls around and there aren’t as many students on campus, it will be the perfect time to renovate the building. My assistant just told me about the elevator getting trapped with some students inside. Have you heard about that?”
Of course, he knows about that. He was one of them. But he doesn’t say anything.
Azriel’s stomach shrivels. If his father buys the building and is wanting to renovate during the summer, that means he, Rhysand, and Cassian will be out of a place to live. Not only that, but you and Feyre will be thrown out too.
He doesn’t like the thought of that.
But his father doesn’t care. He’s already taking a final sip of his coffee and grimacing at the taste. He looks around the diner as if he might just buy this place next. If he does, Azriel doesn’t know what he’ll do.
“If the deal goes through you might be seeing a lot of your old man around this summer,” his father taunts, standing. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Azriel glares. He throws every ounce of hatred at the man who fathered him because there’s nothing that he can do. If his father is talking about buying the building that means that the plans are already in the works. He’s truly and utterly fucked.
His father throws a twenty down on the table. “This should cover that. You can keep the change too, Azriel. Spend the rest on some paint, or something.”
Gods, does he want to fucking bare his teeth at the fucker.
His stare doesn’t leave his father’s back until he’s settled into his sleek, black sports car. His breathing is heavy, fingers clenched so tightly he knows they’ll ache when he uncurls them. Rhysand and Cassian slide back into the booth, deep frowns on their faces.
And his phone is still empty of notifications.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut
@cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @homeslices @quinzzelx @carlandonorri-s @juniper-july19 @ssmay123 @blackthorngirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl
#midnight muse#acotar#azsazz#acowar#acomaf#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel/reader#tattoo artist!azriel#art school au#artist!azriel#azriel series
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On Being Well Spoken
I recently received a request about posting something regarding being well spoken.
Something you need to realise is that you’re not going to become well-spoken overnight. You need to practice on people. You need to SPEAK.
I used to stutter so badly that I could barely speak a whole sentence.
Flash forward a few years. I pitched my start up in front of a crowd, I joined Model United Nations in high school and college, I’ve been invited to speak on my entrepreneurial experience by some top universities in my country. It’s taken a lot to get here. And I’m still not where I want to be.
1. Apps to track progress and help you get better at public speaking
An app that you can use: “Speeko.”
I used to use this, it is beginner friendly and you can improve your public speaking skills as well.
2. Use topic generators
Go online and look up a topic generator. Generate a random topic, video yourself speaking on that topic. Don’t give yourself time to prepare anything - read the topic and start speaking. Set a time limit - you’ll realise that speaking for even 2 minutes can be quite difficult at times.
Not only does this make you realise that you may have limited language skills, but it will also make you realise exactly where you’re falling behind. Note down things in a journal.
- is grammar the issue?
- Lack of vocabulary?
- Too many filler sounds?
- Knowledge gap?
This is also a great idea if you’re at an intermediate level of learning a language/ polishing a language. Do this everyday and maintain a diary on your improvement.
3. Reading out loud
Select a news article or any article. Read out loud, slowly and steadily. Pronounce every syllable calmly.
A two minute read should take 5 minutes to read out loud. That’s how slow you should go. Not more than 4-5 words per breath.
Your tongue needs to get used to different syllables and sounds. Practice will help.
4. Talk in real life
Talk to anyone and everyone whenever you can.
Ask your barista how their day is going.
Ask your work or university security if they’ve had a good day and if they ate today.
Chat with your taxi driver about their life. I always start with asking them if they are from the city we’re travelling in. Even if you’re from that city, act like a tourist. Where are the best eateries? The conversation eventually goes to personal questions. How many children do they have, and what do they do? What do they like about the city?
You’ll learn the art of small talk only through practice. No book or guide can actually prepare you. You have to practice, practice and practice.
5. Diaphragm breathing
Diaphragm breathing is very important. Look up some YouTube videos for reference. You essentially breathe from your tummy (stomach goes in and out; not chest going up and down). This is a great calming exercise too.
6. Stuttering tongue/ jaw exercise videos
These are great because they really do prep your jaw and tongue well. The videos could include tongue stretches, placing your tongue on your palette correctly, etc. Search on YouTube.
7. Body posture
You really need to work on your posture too. Sit up straight. Back, STRAIGHT. Chin up, shoulders relaxed. Something as simple as posture can change your level of confidence.
8. Pranayama
A yoga exercise for breathing. You can find a guided video on YouTube for sure.
9. Vocabulary
Invest your time in expanding your vocabulary. There’s enough apps and games that can help you with that, if you aren’t fond of reading. A sign of being well spoken is having great vocabulary.
Start by looking up the synonyms of everyday words.
“I’m upset”
- how many different words can you find for upset?
“I had a crazy day today”
- one can easily use “hectic”, “chaotic” “lively” instead
10. Idioms
Idioms, phrases, sayings - look up common idioms in your language of choice. Aim to use at least 3 new idioms on 3 separate occasions in a week while you speak. You need to understand when and where you can use the idioms in your vocabulary.
11. Knowing when to switch
You can’t talk like a 50 year old heiress to a 10 year old child; you need to get down to their level.
If someone is clearly not a native speaker and is struggling to put words together, don’t use difficult words around them.
If you’re meeting with someone high profile, refrain from using slang.
The best speakers know when to switch their level of language.
You can’t use one singular type of speaking with everyone. You need to understand that there is a time and place for everything - and you’ll be able to switch like a pro only when you actually speak and start gaining experience.
#c suite#powerful woman#ceo aesthetic#personal growth#that girl#productivity#strong women#getting your life together#feminine energy#balance#speaking#public speaking#speech#speaking tips#speech tips#stammering#stammering tips#practice#debate#MUN#speak out loud#how to speak confidently#being well spoken#well spoken#talk to me#how to talk#how to talk to people#small talk#conversation#conversationalist
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(Edited and slightly better developed! Will be updated until further notice)
Hey, neighbors! I am alive! XD
AAAAH! I finally managed to finish Tom's sheet, but for Au "Actors," the author of this AU is @frillsand. I've been wanting to create drawings related to this AU for a while now, and there are still comics that I want to share.
Wally won my heart -cries- 😭💘, of course, haha. I'll be sharing with you all the comics that come to mind regarding this AU.
WARNING: Before proceeding, this may contain sensitive content, you have been warned. I hope you enjoy the extended blog and the extra mini-comic to lighten the mood.
Well without anything else to say about it...let's start with Tom Unlucky, the stylist!!
Tom Actor's Story:
In a town called "Titirilquén," Thompson (Tom) Lucky grew up alongside his mother and brother Jack Lucky. They depended on each other for everything. They didn't own a television, but they would find TVs on in stores where mostly there were news and interviews with celebrities. Both of them dreamed of becoming actors inspired by the experiences shared by those celebrities on television. Their school further fueled their interests, as it offered a theater subject and a variety of art-related courses.
At school, Jack exhibited a captivating personality in his school theater performances, earning admiration from everyone. However, Jack felt uncomfortable because nobody paid attention to his brother, who was also improving with each performance and costume. Therefore, Jack decided to involve his brother in everything to make him stand out just like himself...
Over time, the school grants Jack a special scholarship that involves working in one of the largest studios in Titirilquen despite being very young. This news greatly delights Jack, so he mentions it to his brother about this opportunity to become what they wanted to be at that time. Unfortunately, those who gave Jack the opportunity were very disappointed when he brought Tom to work with him, so they reluctantly accepted Tom only because Jack requested it.
When Jack was not around Tom, they assigned him different tasks than what an actor should do, completely deviating from the agenda that Tom had planned for the week. This led him to become overloaded with tasks, but he didn't complain because he thought it had to happen when living the life of an actor.
Jack and Tom were the first young actors in the Titirilquén studio. They initially performed in a few presentations for a museum, and then the director decided to create a program with them. Both did their best until they became somewhat more known thanks to the news in their town, and Tom was no longer as ignored as when he first joined. They reached a broader audience, leading them to want to learn more about the people in their town. So, they started learning sign language and refining their voices for musical sections to begin a small program aimed at families.
Both were directed by the same assistant, "Ron," but due to unforeseen circumstances, he had to retire because he had to move to another country for another job opportunity where he could earn more money to support his family. They had a new assistant, a woman named "Cherry," and from this moment, problems arose. The new assistant was serious and easily stressed when the director had to tell her what to do. As a result, she left the job of directing to the two young actors.
This assistant was starting to have too many problems with the brothers, she envied that both brothers mentioned the previous assistant's actions. However, they did not say this with bad intentions but rather so that he could do his job well, since the director was demanding regarding what should be on the schedule of both brothers. Over time, the work environment between them improved, but something was missing in the assistant's life, the brothers did not say many things to her or chat with her, but instead spoke only among themselves.
One day, Cherry overheard a conversation between the two brothers about the previous assistant. Cherry misinterpreted this as a threat to her job and felt worthless to both brothers. He decided to come up with a plan with his fellow students. The plan was to put one of the brothers in a problematic situation so that she could do something to help them and get recognition for it because according to her, the brothers did not value her.
The chosen target was Tom, as Cherry considered him weak and incapable. After finishing his singing section of the show, Tom left the studio to take a break and have a drink.
He noticed that his co-workers near a restaurant were calling him to chat, Tom without noticing any suspicion in them, approached them with great joy, because he admired what his co-workers were doing in the studio.
And being recognized and starting a conversation by them was a great joy for Tom, since he always lived underestimated as just a simple doll who cannot stand out among humans.
Unfortunately, there were ulterior motives. While they were talking to Tom normally, they took him behind the studio, which looked like an alley, and there a cruel scare developed. These coworkers mentioned negative things when they entered the alley and Tom felt uncomfortable by his coworkers' sudden mood swings. He tried to back away, but was easily caught. While saying negative things, they gradually destroyed parts of his body, including arms, legs, wrists, and fingers. They showed no concern for the little puppet's screams and fear because, to them, he was just a doll that couldn't feel pain, or so they claimed, they made fun of him for being too dramatic when he screamed.
When this situation came to an end, the group of companions left, leaving him alone, Tom remained on the ground, crying without understanding how the situation took such a sudden turn. Just a few moments ago everything was fine and now he was helpless on the ground, motionless. He could only see the cotton sticking out of his body and his limbs outside his body, he could only move his head at the moment, he felt completely useless. He prayed that his brother would find him and help him, but then Cherry appeared, pretending to be worried about Tom. She helped him in this terrible situation and took him to the emergency tailoring service.
Now, with Tom recovered, he was mentally depressed and shattered. He looked at his stitched-up body and felt very insecure about venturing into the streets inhabited by humans. He didn't want to go through a similar situation again, so his only support rested on Cherry.
Tom was immensely grateful to her for helping him in this terrible and stressful situation. After a few long minutes of silence, he told his assistant that he didn't want to continue his acting career. This surprised Cherry, but she said nothing and just listened, offering ideas. She felt quite good about helping Tom in these moments of stress. She informed the director about this decision, and of course, he was very concerned and saddened, especially when Tom requested not to inform his brother.
When Tom was discharged on the same day as the accident, he didn't want to go home because a thought crossed his mind: he had always depended on his brother and was only causing him problems. So, with a heavy heart, he decided to distance himself from his brother. The assistant supported all of Tom's ideas, including the idea of complete separation. She was happy that Tom depended on her, so she found him a job outside the country without consulting him.
From Jack's perspective, after the accident, he found it strange that his brother didn't appear on the show. He asked the director why there were sudden changes in the program and why his brother wasn't there. The director decided to be tough with him, saying they hired him and not his brother. He gave Jack new rules for the new direction of the show. Jack was devastated by this news. He considered quitting his job but thought better of it; he wanted to see his brother at home.
When he arrived home, there were no traces of his brother or his belongings. He tried calling him, but there was no phone coverage. In his desperation, he contacted the authorities to inquire about his brother, but they only started working after at least two days of being missing.
This situation was stressful for Jack and his mother. They were very worried and considered various possibilities of what might have happened. Tom decided not to tell them anything when offered a call by the authorities and declared that he wouldn't return home. His family was concerned because they heard a weak voice through the phone, but it was all they could do as the studio was too secretive with the information.
Both brothers remained separated for a long time. For Jack, nothing was the same without Tom, and the show looked depressing. Despite this, he maintained a forced smile for his audience. Children asked a lot about his brother, leading him into deep depression.
Tom, moved to another country, working in a new studio as a stylist. He adopted a fearful, anxious, and panicked attitude, afraid of everyone. To distract himself, he overloaded himself with work, trying to maintain composure by breathing deeply. He couldn't stop thinking about his family, and he knew what he was doing wasn't healthy, but he wanted to stay away for a while.
Well, that's roughly the story. It's long, but I feel that now it's better understood than before. Thanks for staying to read and loving Tom Actor! -cries-
Curious facts about Titirilquén today:
Lately, I've been hooked on a series called "31 minutos," so I included some things from that series. I highly recommend it, it's in Spanish, but there are English subtitles available. Titirilquén is from that show.
Titirilquén doesn't have hospitals because literally no one gets sick there. However, there are places like Mrs. Juanita's service, who takes care of the damaged puppets in this town.
Titirilquén was a town of only puppets but tired of being anonymous and as an unknown town, they decided to include people in their town, building a civilization, the negative of the town only benefits the humans that its own puppet inhabitants.
Facts about Tom:
(Jack's data was deleted to create his respective sheet)
He is 27 years old now.
He speak spanish but he learned English thanks to Cherry.
He is very naive, and that works against him, as he decides to trust everyone.
He has a puppet friend in this studio and his name is Lulu but he affectionately calls him "Wolfy"
When he first arrived at the studio, the studio people confused him with Wally, so since that day, some just call him "Pink Wally." (This is due to his height, skin tone and hair shape, so Tom changed his look to messier hair to not look like Wally)
Tom is a very good worker, but he always hides after finishing his work and doesn't get distracted by anything while working. If a human talks to him, he ignores them, but if it's a puppet, he takes time to chat.
Despite hiding, he is found by children, most of whom are human.
He misses being an actor but is very afraid.
Alongside his brother, they worked on a children's educational program called "Sing until Counting to 3." They taught children songs that included sign language. However, when they leave, the program is completely forgotten by the director.
Tom and Jack are not the same height, Jack has to bend down to hug and talk to him.
Tom usually wears makeup, always in pink or fuchsia, which is his favorite color.
Tom often sees little due to his poor eyesight, so he sometimes needs glasses to see clearly, but he usually doesn't use them because he finds them unnecessary.
Tom has fallen in love with Cherry due to her concern for him (friend, realize...).
As you can see, Tom is afraid of humans, and you rarely find him crying in studio places where people don't live, or even paranoid. If you find him in this situation, make him feel comfortable because he is completely unstable at that moment.
People consider him strange and curious because he often hides and is fearful, and they don't understand why he behaves like that. (It doesn't mean he avoids bad situations with the studio's humans; some of them respect the puppets, while others decide to hate them.)
Tom in this Au has a human brother, in the style of muppet protagonists. His name is Jack Lucky and they are both very close and have achieved many things together by working as a team. Jack is very attentive to his puppet brother, caring for him and trying to understand him as best he can.
Will Tom manage to become an actor again? Will his life improve? Will his brother Jack locate him after a long time? Will Tom continue to call himself unfortunate? Find out in the next episode... *Felmonth bids farewell to the viewers watching the video.*
NOW, COMIC! YAY!!
Title: "First unlucky day"
Reference movie: "White Chicks"
I don't know what Janet's design is like, I didn't find any reference, so I made it with what I found.
And well that was all, I hope you liked everything, I did the best I could and as always if there are questions ask without problems.
Bye byeeee!
Extra: It is assumed that in this unplanned part, Wally told Tom "Consider yourself unlucky for working with me from now on." (No canon for me xD but extra)
Bye uwu)/💐
#draw#drawing#art#my artwork#welcome home arg#welcome home#welcome home fanart#wh wally#welcomehomeproject#welcome home oc#welcomehomeau#welcome home artist#welcome home actor au#actor wally au#wallydarling#wally darling au#wally darling fanart
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hello!! I was hoping I could request gn!reader (aka Yuu) who loves dancing (and is actually really good at it, preferably something like contemporary dancing?) but hasn't told anyone in nrc. basically, the boys' reaction to stumbling upon them dancing one day!!
(requesting for cater, lilia, riddle, jamil, malleus, rook and vil!!)
thank youuuu <3
characters: riddle, cater, jamil, vil, rook, malleus and lilia x gn!yuu
tags: relationship not specified, fluff, imagines format; grim mention in riddle's, cater's, malleus' and lilia's. vil mention in cater's. kalim mention in jamil's. vil's is set in book 5
warnings: use of the word "dear" as a term of endearment in lilia's part
author's notes: i tried making them stumble yuu in different places so if they seem random thats why lol also i almost forgot about the "hasn't told anyone at nrc" part i get so carried away sometimes help 😭
Riddle Rosehearts
He has a deep appreciation for dancing and consequently, he respects anyone who is a connoisseur of the art
He would tell you everything he knows about the art and comes to you to inform you on any new things he learns about it
You would tell him that you’re a dancer yourself, especially contemporary dance; the freeing nature of your favorite form has proven to be an effective way to relieve stress and express yourself
…But you’re a bit too shy to admit that to someone as amazing as Riddle - so fate takes the matter into its own hands
You were dancing in Ramshackle’s lounge, all by yourself since Grim is napping, a luxury you don’t get to afford too often
You simply felt like it; you put on some music and suddenly your body grows a mind of its own
You were so absorbed in your performance that you didn’t manage to hear knocks rapping on your door, let alone the sound of footsteps leading up to it
Sensing no answer from you and immediately growing worried, whoever was at the door bursted in to search for you… only to be met with a you in the middle of a dance move
It takes you a few seconds to notice him standing there in awe of your movements. When you do, you instantly ran over to the source of your music and switched it off in embarrassment
He asked you why you did that and would love for you to continue dancing but you only shook your head and tell him you weren’t fully ready to show off your moves yet and that you were simply going with the flow
“I mean, that’s kinda the whole point of contemporary dancing, just going with the flow? But still, I need to choreograph some parts of it to actually look like a form of dance.”
He chuckles at your response and doesn’t push you to resume if you feel uncomfortable. You thank him for respecting your boundaries
Though everything between you goes smoothly after the incident, you’ll never forget the look on his face when he laid his eyes on: the pure wonder in his eyes told everything you needed to know.
Cater Diamond
He thinks dancing is super cool and he sometimes try to demonstrate that - and in your opinion, he’s not half-bad at it despite what Vil would say
You would show off your own moves but you don’t wanna kill his vibes, even if he’d think you’re super good at it
But one day you’ll tell him how much you love contemporary dance and the fact that it can convey every human emotion and experience; and then that day comes, though very unexpectedly you would say
It was late in the evening; the school hallways are mostly empty, save for you and Grim casually having a conversation while walking your way back to your dorm
But one glance outside gives you all the inspiration you need for an impromptu dance session - the sky is bleeding orange, blazing yellow bandaging it
Your movements shift. You are now a tribute to the sunset. Grim stands aside and watches you with a sigh but he holds back his witty comments for after you’re done with your performance
Little did you know you have another person in your audience - Cater also had late evening classes and only now he’s heading back to Heartslabyul
At least, that was his initial plan. Seeing you dancing in the hallway caught him off guard, firstly because who in their right mind would dance in the hallways but secondly (and mainly), the way you move enchanted him
Could it even be called moving? Your limbs bend and flex so smoothly that he thought they turned into water somehow
By the time you’re done, you’re given a standing ovation by both of your spectators - one of whose you jump at in shock
“Yuu, that was like, crazy good! Are you secretly some pro dancer or something?”
You blush a little at the fact that he saw you and at the compliment; after that event, it’s impossible to hide anything from him so you simply tell him everything you know
You’d give him pointers and you’re happy to see his improvement from day to day but most importantly, his shining, genuine smile is something you wouldn’t miss for the world.
Jamil Viper
You know he’s very passionate about dance and you truly admire his skill for it
Although he’d be the perfect dance partner, you feel a little self-conscious sharing your own passion for dancing with him
He seems to sparkle when he shows off his skills and you think you lack that type of shine to your own - he begs to differ though, you’ve come to learn
The two of you were hanging out in his room, music pouring out from his stereo and you drowning in it, your limbs spread out on the floor
Then your room is shaken by some unknown noise, though you can assume it’s Kalim-induced, to which Jamil sighed and excused himself to go check out and possibly fix up
You lay there on your own then, nodding your head to the music, until a song you liked dominates the speakers, taking you by surprise
You don’t know what happened but as soon as the first note hit, you’re on your feet and your body was swaying side to side
Losing your mind and body to the music felt good, but then Jamil entered the room when you were mid-dance. You would’ve stopped if it weren’t for him joining in, but not without a taunt
“What, too scared to dance with me? Come and show me what you’ve got, Yuu.”
You accepted his challenge and continued where you left off - the two of you twisted and turned and ended up on the floor lying on your backs once again, gasping for breath
The two of you laughed breathlessly. He then praised you and your dancing abilities and wondered why you never showed him how skilled you are
You shrugged, thinking it wasn’t a big deal, but then he put a hand on your shoulder and offered to have more dance-offs. You didn’t hesitate to agree
When dancing with him, it feels like the most natural thing in the world, as if you were born to do this. And maybe, just maybe, you were born to meet such a wonderful person too.
Vil Schoenheit
You were a bit let down when you couldn’t actually participate as a dancer for the VDC but at the very least it allowed you to give yourself a bit more time to truly showcase your dancing to others
And hosting a training camp for the actual competitors isn’t too bad if it’s for your dorm and for something you’re passionate about
Ramshackle Dorm is lively, what with everyone there. Conflict was inevitable in this school but it did drive you crazy somewhat
One particular day, everyone was taking a break from Vil’s scrutinous training and you can feel the tension in the air
At some point, everyone left the ballroom. Only you remained seated on the floor, your back to the wall. You stared up at the ceiling and sighed. You couldn’t take this anymore
You got to your feet and simply started dancing, as quietly as you could. No music, nothing - you didn’t want to risk garnering attention by being noisy
It definitely served to alleviate some of your stress. You even smiled to yourself and at some points, fought the urge to laugh out of joy
The ballroom seemed different then. The images of your friends came into your mind - all their smiles, their frowns, the determined looks on their faces. You felt your movements growing more fluid at the thought of them
Once you’re done and panting, bent over your knees gasping for air, a loud clap reverberates in the room. Then another. Then a third. Then a figure emerges, their hands clasped
“What a pleasant surprise. You’re not bad at all. Though it’s a bit too late to recruit you, I surely hope you continue to hone that skill of yours.”
Did… did Vil Schoenheit just praise your dancing skills?
Let’s just say you took his advice to heart - it’s hard not to when it’s Vil Schoenheit himself
You also helped the others with some of your advice after the confidence boost and you’re happy to see their improvement. Seeing Vil satisfied also brought a smile to your face.
Rook Hunt
After the VDC, you found yourself more exhausted than usual by the events that occurred and you begged for a break from whatever deity is there in Twisted Wonderland. Dancing was the last thing on your mind
And for a while, that’s what you got - you were able to simply attend classes and watch your friends bicker with each other like a normal student. It was a well-needed break for everyone
Sometimes you’d chat for a bit with any familiar faces you run into and these days, you found yourself chilling by yourself in the courtyard
One day, you suddenly felt a longing to dance once more. And luckily for you, you had the courtyard all to yourself
It went from being some regular courtyard to your stage and the sun was your spotlight; you shone and you twinkled. You were like a star
And that was what you were told by the end of your performance, accompanied by applause from a singular person
“Très bien, Yuu… your performance has moved me to tears!”
Rook exclaims as he makes his way over to you; that certainly wasn’t your intention. You didn’t even think it was worth watching
But then Rook continues to comment on certain aspects of your performance, elaborating in very vivid detail. You’ve never felt so seen before
He would shower you with compliments, as if to say that you shouldn’t have a single doubt in your mind
And you hardly ever do after that since he very much threatened you to be kind to yourself or else
He would tell everyone about your wonderful skill (with your consent, of course), as if you’re his child who he’s been watching grow up over the years
He may be a bit loud about you at times but when you look over at him and see how proud he is of you, you only sigh fondly and hold back a chuckle.
Malleus Draconia
He doesn’t know a lot about the subject but he appreciates it as a form of art and expression of the people
And so you would tell him all about it while being careful to not let on that you’re one yourself which is surprisingly easier than you thought, considering how oblivious he is sometimes
He merely sees you as some sort of dance scholar and as if he doesn’t respect you a lot already, he definitely holds you in higher regard now
And somehow, that elevates to an even higher level when he suddenly finds you out
He was on his routinely walk around Ramshackle; it was a windy night, weather as pleasant as his conversations with you
Coincidentally, whilst his thoughts were on you, he spotted you in the backyard of your dorm with the ghosts and… hm? It’s brightly lit for once
Curious and wanting confirmation, he changed his route to suspiciously festive-looking Ramshackle instead
Meanwhile, you and Grim were dancing to some music the ghosts were playing for you. You all were having a simple party to forget your worries
The ghosts would comment on how you should stop outshining Grim so much, just to mess with Grim. But they had a point; you had a certain glimmer to you when you dance
Malleus saw that much when he reached your party. He stood within the frame of the backdoor, watching your every movement, entranced
After a few minutes did you notice him there, unmoving. Your steps trace their way to him instead. You extend a hand to him
“May I have this dance?”
And you may - the two of you danced, him slipping in flatteries in between moves. Maybe it was just you, but the party seemed to feel much more lively with him. No, not just the party; the whole world was.
Lilia Vanrouge
He knows a thing or two about dancing from all his adventures and he’d love to show you proof of it
So he does - he's definitely got the moves and you definitely want to show him some of your own… someday
You feel a little self-conscious about your own skills after his show but that doesn't stop you from working on your dancing. You're determined to make your skills worthy of Lilia’s attention!
Little did you know. It's futile to really hide anything from this sneaky bastard (affectionate)
You were on your way to class from Ramshackle with Grim and unfortunately for you, you had a little earworm stuck in your head that day
It started off as a skip, then two skips. By five skips, it turned into a full on dance. You felt alive, like you were a main character in a musical
Grim was making fun of you at first but then he started linking his arm with lampposts and swinging himself alongside you
Lilia was watching this all happen from afar, as one does. A student dancing their way to class is no everyday spectacle after all. And it's you too! All the more reason to play peeping tom
Just when you're about to reach the main building did he finally give you the jumpscare of a lifetime
“Why, you didn’t tell me what a wonderful dancer you are, my dear Yuu! I must admit, I feel quite offended.”
He was jesting of course - he was merely glad that he got to witness such a sight. And you’re glad that you’re not as unskilled as you thought you were
He tries his best not to boast your skills to others but you know he can never keep such hidden talent, well, hidden from his beloved Diasomnia family
You got the Diasomnia stamp of approval - not only that, but you’ve definitely impressed someone you hold dear.
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x gn reader#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#cater diamond#cater diamond x reader#jamil viper#jamil viper x reader#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#rook hunt#rook hunt x reader#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader#lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader#twst x yuu
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A Guide to Mastery: Finding Your Life's Work
Mastery is what we hope to attain. We hope to get a point where we become master of our fields, experts of our work, and mentors to younger people. But the big question we ask ourselves is "what should I do?" "what can I do?" "what is my purpose in life?" and that is a very big question that we might spend our entire lives trying to figure out.
It is difficult now, especially when we hear people talk about their careers, we see updates on people's career changes on LinkedIn and everyone is vying for a job in big tech, big law, consulting, Wall Street and you feel left out, not good enough, in fact discouraged.
However, you can find fulfillment by taking this self-discovery one step at a time, at a pace that best suits your skills, and still rise to the top.
Here is how to find your Life's work:
Look back to your childhood
Often to figure out what you want to do or who you want to become you have to look back to your past, your childhood. What made you tick? What classes were most fun for you? Who did you enjoy watching or spending time with growing up? The answers can give you a peek into the kind of life you want. Growing up I enjoyed reading biographies of people. I was obsessed with how they became successful and how they set themselves apart - now my writing mirrors that.
2. Find your niche
The uncertainty or discomfort you feel could be caused by not fitting into one field. You feel like you can do a lot more than there is out there. This is a great feeling. if you feel this way do not be discouraged. It is your life's journey to figure out the intersection of your interest. It is a sign that you should try out multiple things. Your career may become an amalgamation of your interest, ideas, disciplines, and fields. Here are some intersections that I found in people I admire:
Design + Technology - Steve Jobs- Apple Co-founder, Brian Chesky - Airbnb Co-founder
Food + Technology - Apoorva Mehta; co-founder Instacart
Culture + Commerce - Most architects, designers fit this category
Science + Art - Trip Hawkins; founder of Electronic Arts
Community + technology - Whitney Wolfe Herd; Founder of Bumble
Food + business: Kaspar Basse; founder of Joe & The Juice
Sportsmanship + design - Phil Knight; co-founder of Nike
Environmentalism + Sportsmanship - Yvon Chouinard; founder of Patagonia
These people are at the top of their fields. You can start by having a double major, or minoring in a totally different field (Art + Finance, Biology + Sports management etc)
3. Resist the pressure of the majority
There is always a group of people on the other side of your interest and skills - parents, friends, professors, peers who want something different from what you aspire to. You love art but they remind you that the pay is meagre, you want be a lawyer but they tell you, you are not good enough for law. You see, the salary you get paid for doing something you love should not stop you from getting started. You will eventually become so good that the value you provide will eventually command a huge compensation but for now bend down and learn.
4. Find a mentor
Once you get a glimpse of what you feel like you want to do. Find a mentor, your mentor could be distant or imminent. A distant mentor could be a renowned expert, a person you stumble upon through a book, an interview etc. Their story inspires you and you somehow you feel seen, you goals aren't so impossible anymore. The imminent mentors are the people you meet through school, work and whose work has some skills you need to learn for your Life's work. Your relationship with them or experience with them is the closest to reality of your Life's Work. Learn as much as you can in this process.
Welcome to my A Guide to Mastery series inspired by the book Mastery.
#self improvement#self love#growth#mindfulness#self development#beauty#education#classy#self care#self help#study motivation#mindset#mind control#emotional intelligence#booklover#book review#biography#motivation#self discipline#self worth
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Can I request something where Azriel has to pick up Nyx from school one day and thinks his teacher is cute & is very flirty with her?
Yes! Love this idea so much!
When I Kissed The Teacher
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary - Feyre loves Nyx's teacher but loves playing matchmaker even more. After sending Azriel to collect Nyx from school one day after feigning a studio related emergency, she's very happy to learn that Azriel's affections are completely in the palm of your hand.
Warnings - none really, just cuteness all round
Feyre had always been worried about sending Nyx off to school, even though she believed Rhys when he told her that the schools of Velaris were the best in Prythian, she couldn't help but feel anxious that he wouldn't thrive.
Then she met you, and all of her worries faded away.
You were everything Feyre wanted in a teacher for her child, it had taken a lot of weight throwing to get him into your class, it was full to the brim of children from higher born families, only wanting the best for their offspring. Feyre wasn't even surprised.
It was clear how much you cared about your children, in nurturing them into intelligently creative creatures. Other teachers focused solely on the academics, but you had a passion for the arts, you said creativity helped children to find their passions and grow into more compassionate and joyful souls.
Nyx had run into her arms when she had come to collect him that first day, babbling on about what a wonderful time he had with you. Miss Y/L/N. Feyre had never seen such wonderment in his eyes when he told her in that broken infant language how great you were. Everyone's worries about Nyx becoming a shell had vanished.
The little thing had returned home with paintings, reciting poetry from your favourite passages; he had the desire to read, making different voices for the different characters like he had learned from you. Nyx was well and truly flourishing.
Feyre had insisted that you walk home with them one afternoon, since you only lived five minutes from the River House and it was on your route home anyway. From that walk, Feyre had learned much about you, that you were from Spring but left after being disowned by your family for wanting more from life than being married away to be used as a breeding tool. After that you had travelled the continent, making many friends along the way and opening your mind to the world before settling in Hewn City, only to be brought to Velaris on Rhys' orders because he had heard of your talents and passion and wanted it taking root in the children of his city.
The more you spoke, rambling on about art and books and theatre, did Feyre come to the realisation that a certain someone would be absolutely besotted with you. When you had hugged Nyx goodbye, ruffling his hair and telling him you'd see him in the morning, did Feyre begin to hatch her plan.
Azriel wasn't one for sunshine and rainbows, but even he had to admit that Nyx's and Feyre's gushings about you had him intrigued, even Rhys had commented on how sweet you were, seemingly very fond of how Nyx was excelling under your wing.
"Az, would you mind grabbing Nyx today? I have to head to the studio, delivery emergency," Feyre floated past him toward the door, a thin cloak fitted around her shoulders to protect her from the afternoon summer breeze that drifted along the Sidra.
"Uh, yeah. Sure," he waved Feyre from the house as she dashed down the path shouting over her shoulder what time to be at the school for.
The sun was beginning to dip in the sky but warmth still flew through Velaris, Azriel walked along the winding paths and up the hill to the school, the skittering sound of children's laughter filling his ears as he approached. Parents parted as he walked down the cobbled stone path, not wanting to graze against his wings with slight unease in their eyes. Azriel was used to it by now, the looks of disapproval, the slight fear in the people he passed.
The bell rang and birds shot to perch on the branches of the trees that surrounded the plush gardens teeming with bright flowers and wildlife. Children began to file out from the open door, grabbing their bags and running to their parents with wide smiles, excited to tell them what you had taught them that day.
Azriel spied the inside wall littered will paintings and cards, all addressed to you, as well as a wooden table filled with the gifts the children had no doubt made their parents purchase for you.
Then he saw you, and the Shadowsinger audibly gasped. There you were, dressed in a loose white blouse with stringed corset, an earthy brown skirt that fell to the floor covered in colourful handprints that reached your thighs, your hair was unbound and baby hairs whispered along the sides of your face.
You were sunshine. You were radiant.
Nyx's hand was curled in your own as you led him out of the classroom and Azriel could have sworn he'd never seen a brighter look on anyone's face as the little man searched the crowd, "Uncle, Az!"
Your gaze had also fallen on him and you drank in his smile as Nyx left your grip and hurtled to the Shadowsinger, his grin was large, showing off all of his teeth as he bent down and wrapped Nyx in his toned arms, laughing loudly and asking about his day before standing up.
"I don't think we've ever formally met," you held your free hand out, your other carrying Nyx's bag, "I'm Y/N, well, Miss Y/L/N."
You were as soft as summer rain, adoration in your orbs, and you radiated purity and grace. Azriel glanced at your outstretched hand, sliding his own into it and feeling a force of gravity will him closer to you, "So you're the one that has Nyx ready for school at the crack of dawn," he felt relief when you didn't recoil at his hand in yours, the hands that usually made people grimace, "Azriel," you giggled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your pointed ear.
High Fae.
"Guilty as charged," your voice was like butter, smooth and rich, the perfect balance of femineity.
"Can't say I blame him," he smirked at the heat that rose to his cheeks, at the sheepish smile that tugged at your lips.
"That's very nice of you to say," one of your students walked past you, waving goodbye, and Azriel watched you bend down and fix her jacket to her body, telling her to have a lovely weekend in the sun, "Nyx has had a lovely day today. He just keeps on flourishing, it's remarkable," you had told him once you had risen again.
"I'm sure anyone could flourish with you around. Must be the Y/N effect," he cocked his head to the side at your giggle, just happy to be able to examine the woman who had Nyx all excited every morning. Feyre and Rhys were right, you were remarkable. Like a rainbow rippling in a storm.
"Must be it," the birds jumped from branch to branch around you, like they wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as possible, flitting to the bird houses you had erected by the pond of ducks and in the trees.
"Would you like to walk home with us? Feyre mentioned that you didn't live too far from the house?"
Your mouth fell into the perfect o shape, "Oh, I wouldn't want to impose-"
"You're not," Azriel smiled, looking down at Nyx, shaking his little hand and asking, "Is she, Nyx? Would you like Miss Y/L/N to walk home with us?"
"Yes!" Nyx shouted and you laughed, a laugh that made the edges of your eyes crinkle, you disappeared into the building, returning a few moments later with you satchel, locking the door and taking Nyx's free hand in your own after handing his bag to Azriel.
Azriel was positive that he'd never seen Nyx shine so brightly.
The walk home was full of light chatter, you made Azriel laugh more times than you could count, and Nyx was pointing out random things along the way, looking up at you for approval and tapping his feet on the ground when you nodded and smiled.
From the house, Feyre watched through the curtains as Nyx ran up the path, and kept watching as Azriel lingered behind, she wished she could hear what he was saying to you. But as you smiled, and blushed, and then nodded at the Shadowsinger who was kicking his feet like a schoolboy, she knew it was going well.
Strong arms wrapped around her midsection and her back hit a hard chest, his deep chuckle vibrated through him and his warm breath fanned against her ear, "Playing matchmaker again, darling?"
Feyre hummed with a gentle smile, accepting the peppering kisses over her shoulder as she watched you walk away, looking back at Azriel and waving before turning the corner, "I think this is my best one yet," she told Rhys, noticing the pursed smile on Azriel's lips and the faint pink tinge to his complexion as he followed Nyx up the path.
"I'm inclined to agree."
SO CUTE!
Thank you for the request! x
#fanfiction#imagine#acotar fanfiction#acotar#acotar imagine#maasverse#rhysand#azriel x reader#feyre archeron#feysand#feyre cursebreaker#feyre x rhysand#rhys acotar#azriel fic#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel x you#azriel#shadowsinger x reader#nyx archeron#acotar oneshot
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blue christmas |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|
prompt: a look at two very different christmases in eddie's life.
apart of munny's merriest masterlist which you can read here!
contains: sad!eddie. parent guilt. divorce. gina. mainly just very lonely christmas angst but some fluff at then end.
Fourteen Years Before
“Hey, have a good one, Munson!” Phil waved a gloved hand, locking the body shop for the night. “Have a Merry Christmas!” Even Christmas Eve held its fair share of wrecks, cars breaking down in the snow, plenty of business even on the holiday.
“Yeah, you too!” Eddie waved back, hands shoved deep in his utility jacket, heavy and warm for the colder months. His hands fiddled around with the cigarette carton in his coat pocket, pulling out his keys with the cigarette, letting it hang from his lips as he slid into the truck.
The roads were empty, cleared of any traffic on his way to his apartment. The twinkling lights in the yards, strung merrily and proudly for all to see mocked him, a dull reminder of what wasn’t waiting for him at home.
Home. He used that term loosely.
The apartments were cheap for a two bedroom, close to Brielle’s school and Eddie’s work. Gina had got the house in the divorce. Eddie didn’t want it, couldn’t afford it on his own after she’d cleared out what little he had. His thumb rubbed over his ring finger out of habit, meeting the calloused skin there instead of the gold band he wore for eight years.
Eight years. Eight Christmases spent with Gina, with Brielle. They were far from perfect. He and Gina usually fought from Thanksgiving to New Years Eve, but at least he had a tree. At least it was decorated, and there were presents under the tree.
At least he wasn’t alone.
Eddie’s heart ached, a jabbing pain that spread through his chest, leaving his throat stinging with an uncomfortable burn. He knew the divorce was the right thing to do, when your seven year old asks Santa for her parents to stop fighting, it’s time. Still, he didn’t think it would hurt so badly, that it’d be this lonely.
That he’d miss it this badly.
Maybe he should have toughed it out, should have ignored Gina so he wouldn’t be sitting here, in a pitifully empty apartment, in a deafening silence, nursing a beer on Christmas Eve.
Eddie had put up a ‘tree’, a lighted spiral cone shape he found at a second hand store, after Brielle commented on his lack of decor. “You don’t like Christmas anymore?”
She’d made him an ornament in art class, which he couldn’t hang on the spiraled lights of the tree, so he taped it on. She was happy with it regardless, grinning and telling him about how her art teacher let her make two. “Since you and mom are divorced.” Eddie’s stomach turned. There was something so sickening about hearing his little girl say those words in such a cheery tone. Made him feel like a complete sack of shit.
Eddie looked at the clock on the stove, flashing bright, green numbers back at him. He worked later than expected, it was nearly eight, but knowing Brielle she was far from ready for bed- Santa's coming tonight. Eddie’s chest tightened at the thought- he was missing that.
He grabbed the phone, punching in the numbers carefully, he knew them by heart. The phone rang, and rang.
“Hello?” Gina’s huffy voice came over the other line.
“Hey, Gina.” Eddie said awkwardly. “I, uh, I just got home. I was gonna talk to Brielle if she’s still up.”
“Yeah, she’s still up.” Gina huffed, and he could practically see her eye roll, snarled lips. “You were supposed to call at seven.”
“I know, I know. I just- I got busy at work. Had to stay overtime.” Eddie ran a hand down his face, knee bouncing.
“Great. She’s gonna be even more wild now. She’s already losing her damn mind- Brielle, get out of your stocking or I’m throwing it away!” Gina pulled the phone away, shrilling. Eddie’s lips curled, hearing the cackle in the background, she was his daughter.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-” Eddie started.
“-Just, whatever. Don’t get her fucking wild, Eddie, I swear to God.” Gina snapped. The phone rustled. “Here.” Gina’s voice was muffled, before the phone settled.
“Hello?” The little chirp on the other end had Eddie’s heart swelling.
“Hi, Munchkin.” Eddie grinned softly, voice lilting higher. “Merry Christmas.”
“It’s Daddy!” Brielle shrilled. “Hi, Daddy. Merry Christmas.”
“Are you still up?” Eddie sighed softly. “You’re supposed to be asleep. Santa’s coming soon, Brie.”
“I’ll sleep in a little bit.” Brielle huffed lightly, she sounded like her mother. “When are you comin’ home? I saved you one of the Snowman cookies before Santa eats them, and I have reindeer food to put on the roof. It has glitter in it this time so they can see better.”
Eddie paused, words choked around the lump in his throat, heart sinking low into the pit of his stomach.
“Daddy?” Brielle asked, pulling the phone back. “I think it got undone-”
“-No, no, I’m here, Brielle.” Eddie’s voice was tight, hand pressed into his eyes. “Um, I-I’m not coming home tonight, remember?” A ragged breath shook out of his chest, and he hoped she didn’t hear it. “I’m coming to get you tomorrow afternoon, and we’re going to Grandpa’s.”
“Oh,” Brielle’s tiny voice was filled with disappointment, it tore Eddie’s heart right out of his chest. “Even on Christmas?”
“Yeah, baby. Even on Christmas. Remember me and mom told you, you’d get two Christmases. One with each of us.” Eddie tried to keep his voice steady.
“But not together?” Brielle muttered, a complete turn around from her previous excited tone.
“No, not together. I’m sorry, Brie.” Eddie pulled the phone away, taking a deep breath in to keep his emotions in.
“That’s ok.” Her tone told him otherwise.
“But I’ll see you tomorrow, ok? And you can tell me all about what Santa brought you, and then we’ll go to Grandpa’s and you’ll have even more gifts to open.” Eddie hoped his tone was convincing.
“Ok.” Brielle muttered sadly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Daddy.”
“Yeah, you will, I promise.” Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat, nose burning with tears. “Good night, Brie. Dream of those sugar plums, alright? Love you.”
“G'night. Love you.” Brielle repeated solemnly.
The phone rattled for a moment, Eddie clearing his throat lightly. The line settled for a moment and he waited for Gina’s voice. A harsh dial tone came instead.
Eddie tried to ignore the hurt that pounded in his chest. He felt grimy, gross, and disappointed in himself. He felt alone, most of all.
Shaky fingers punched the buttons on the phone, knee bouncing as he lit a cigarette, pulling the ashtray closer to him on the kitchen table. “Hello?” Steve Harrington’s accommodating tone came through the line, a loud screech of children’s laughter in the background.
“Hey, Steve.” Eddie cringed at the shake in his tone, swallowing. “Sorry to bother you, I, uh, I just wanted to-”
“-Daddy! One present, please?”
“Yeah! Just one! One!”
“Hang on,” Steve huffed. “No, ok? Mom said no, and you know she’s the boss. You better stop, alright? It’s not too late to get on Santa’s bad list. I’ll call him right now and tell him to skip the Harrington residence-”
“No!” A chorus of cries in the background made Eddie smile, his chest aching even more with an unfamiliar feeling.
Tiny stampedes of feet cleared in the background. “Sorry, it’s a zoo over here, Ed.” Steve snorted lightly.
“Yeah, no, I get it.” Eddie laughed lightly, stopping himself gently. “Well, actually, I don’t. That’s, uh, that’s actually why I was calling.” Eddie exhaled deeply, rubbing his forehead. “I, uh, I just called Brielle, and she’s-”
“-Steven! I need help in here!” Nancy’s voice pierced through the phone, sharp even in the background.
“Fuck. Hey, Ed, can I call you back? We’re trying to make cookies, and they’re decorating the baby.” Steve sighed. “I’m telling you, these kids are insane. I’m about to rip my hair out, and I still gotta make a fuckin’ dollhouse.” Steve’s voice dropped to a low whisper.
“Yeah, no, I get it. Don’t worry about it, man.” Eddie felt his waterline flood. “Go be with your family.”
“Alright, I gotta go. Merry Christmas, Munson.” Steve hummed over the line.
“Merry Christmas.” Eddie muttered, the dial tone cutting him off again.
He leaned back in the dining room chair, cigarette burning between his fingers. Alone.
Present
“Eddie!” You called, wrangling the squirming one year old in your arms, Delilah was determined to get to the shiny presents, squealing and cackling. She was just crawling, thankfully, toddling but not as sure, but she was fast.
“Ed, get the phone!” You yelled, the trill of the landline Eddie still had around filled the house. Brielle in front of you, in pajamas that matched her little sisters, phone dangling from her grasps.
“She’s gonna open a present tonight.” Brielle giggled, recording her sister happily.
“Yeah, or tear the tree down.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes. “I told you a candy cane was too much.” You glared at Eddie playfully. He’d snuck her tastes of a candy cane earlier at your parent’s house, laughing at how her eyes lit up.
Eddie grinned, snagging the phone off the hook. “Hello?”
There was a silence, the tiniest hitch of a breath on the other line. Eddie frowned, looking down at the caller id. “Hello?”
“Is Brielle there?” The huffy, snide of a tone that he’d know anywhere. Gina. Why she was calling him on Christmas Eve, he wasn’t exactly sure, but he had an idea that it was due to Brielle’s silent treatment towards her after Gina’s rage filled rant about Lilah’s birth.
“Hello, Gina. Merry Christmas to you.” Eddie clipped, eyes rolling. “Yeah, she’s here.”
Gina paused, and Eddie could picture her even now, nails tapping against the table furiously, anxiously. “Well, can you- can I talk to her?”
Eddie’s head turned, his gaze meeting Brielle’s. She shook her head, brows raised nearly in offense at the suggestion. “Uh, Gina, she-she’s kinda busy right now-”
“-Right.” Gina scoffed, tone harsh but Eddie could hear it, the traces of hurt lingering in the defensiveness. “Guess she likes the child bride more than her actual mother-”
“-Alright, Gina.” Eddie huffed. “You have a good one. Merry Christmas.”
“Wait!” The shrill in her tone, desperate and alarming.
Eddie waited, holding the phone back to his ear. Gina huffed, taking in a deep breath. “Can you… Can you talk to her?” Her voice was small, quiet. “Just-Just tell her I want to see her, and I have gifts for her, and-and,” There was a pause, a shaky breath. “Tell her I miss her and I love her?”
Eddie’s chest ached for her sympathetically. He knew she deserved it, that Brielle was probably in the right with her cruelty. Still, Eddie sympathized with her. The bitter loneliness of being alone during the holidays.
“Yeah, Gina. I can do that.” Eddie nodded slowly, his voice dropping. “I’ll, uh, I’ll tell her.”
“Thanks.” The word was clipped, drowned in disdain and followed with a sniffle.
“Have a Merry Christmas, Gina.” Eddie sighed softly, hanging up the phone with a final click.
He turned back to the living room. You and Brielle were still desperately trying to distract Lilah from the shining ornaments with her toys, rattling and shaking them in front of her so she squealed, only to turn back to the tree.
Eddie smiled, scooping up the baby, tossing her in the air gently so she screeched in laughter. “She’s never going to sleep.” You grinned warmly, starry eyed watching Eddie cuddle your baby.
“Nah, she’ll sleep in a little bit.” Eddie shrugged, snuggling her close to his chest. Delilah turned into his touch, face pressing into his chest, rubbing her face sleepily into the soft cotton of his Christmas pajama shirt that matched with his girls.
His brows shot up, grinning triumphantly. You snorted, rolling your eyes lightly. “Alright, Santa. What kind of cookies do you want?”
“Whatever kind you wanna make me, bunny. ‘M not picky.” Eddie hummed, rocking Delilah against his chest gently.
“I bought the Snowman sugar cookie ones.” Brielle smiled brightly. “I can make them.”
Eddie’s chest filled with warmth, looking down at the tiny girl in his arms, heavy lids pulling shut with sleep, knuckling at them. The lights on the tree seemed brighter and brighter as the years passed. A real tree this time, filled with ornaments and memories hanging on the branches, room for more as the years went on.
#oneforthemunny#munny’s merriest#munnysmerriest#older!dilf!eddie munson#older!eddie munson x reader#older!dilf!eddie#older!eddie munson#older!eddie#dilf!eddie munson x reader#dilf!eddie munson#dad!eddie x mom!reader#dad!eddie munson#eddie munson x reader angst#eddie munson x fem!reader angst#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson fluff#older!dilf!eddie munson angst#tw gina#eddie munson au#eddie munson au#steve harrington#nancy wheeler#eddie munson christmas#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#oneforthemunny blurbs#eddie munson blurb
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