#but that was with georges express instruction and ideas

[rodeoromeo]

I honestly like. I am so so tired today and I've had a bad and busy one and haven't had time to sit here and think about this. and I truly truly mainly think we lack enough information about this potential release to make any complete judgements on it. but as it stands right now I feel comfortable saying that I think constructing a new song, creating new pieces of it and releasing it now as a "Beatles song" does not sit right with me. I do not think the technology used is the issue here. this coming up in the same conversation as the AI discussion I think has created some confusion about exactly what its being used for- its just a form of remastering tracks. but the idea that this is something they've built up anew, for ME? isn't right. if it IS Now and Then I don't think its entirely right of them to use George's guitar from when they worked on it on anthology and put it out, and it wouldn't be right to do it without his work either.

George was insanely particular about his playing and would exhaustively rerecord his parts until he thought it was EXACTLY right. do you think he got there with a track he didn't think they should complete? whether or not he only didn't want to work with it due to the sound quality or not, using that recording now as a finished product doesn't align with that. as a rule of thumb I am very trusting of Olivia and Dhani's handling of George's legacy and all but something just feels off to me about this. I genuinely am asking because I don't know, but do we know how much of a say the Harrison estate has in things like this?

frankly the biggest thing bothering me about all of this is the way people have taken this as an opportunity to just be really openly shitty to George. he wasn't even mentioned in the interview and so many people are just framing this as an opportunity to stick it to George, or actively even saying pretty callous things about him being dead so thank god this could finally get made.

I do want to hear more about what this track is ACTUALLY going to be or going to look like but I'm really disappointed in a lot of people's reactions, whether it be encouraging MORE AI to be used in the production of music or if its jumping at the chance to talk shit on George and his position in the band. it's a sad sad day to look around at this community. I don't understand some of the people who call themselves fans here. I think we should put out old demo tracks fuckin all day long. Even if it is a recording of them playing here and now in the anthology session simply cleaned up, I don't see an issue with that. But finishing anything and changing it and calling it a new single? I'll feel a little strange about that.

[fastandcarlos]

Padel Queen : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: when max suggests couples padel with george and carmen, he worries about how good you'll be, little does he know though what a master of padel you are

“Are you sure that this is a good idea?” Max asked you one final time as you took the racket that he offered out of his hands. “It’s not too late for us to say no,” he reminded you, anxious eyes watching as you stood yourself up.

You looked the part, but playing the part? You weren’t too sure. When Carmen and George invited you for a game of padel you were keen to find out more about the game that Max seemed to love so much, but now that you were there, your confidence had diminished.

The noise of rackets hitting the ball continually made you jump as you put your trainers on, the speed that some of the balls were struck made you flinch in fear, and the groans of effort that echoed left you questioning how athletic you really were.

“I’ve got this!” You cheered, nudging against Max’s side, refusing to let him see just how nervous you were.

The two of you walked onto the court, picking the side you’d serve from whilst George and Carmen finished getting themselves ready. Max walked across and picked up one of the balls, taking you to the baseline at the back of the court.

“I’m going to teach you how to serve so you’re an expert in the game,” he informed you, turning you so that you were facing the right way.

You allowed Max to guide you, listening closely to his instructions, copying his movements whenever he demonstrated, constantly reminding you that he was an expert of padel.

The first time you served, you just managed to get the ball over the net, watching it bounce dejectedly on the other side of the court.

“How was that?” You grinned, spinning to face Max, his expression not matching your own. “What? What did I do wrong?”

Max scratched nervously over the top of his head, feeling his heart break as he saw how excited you were before him. “Well…you got it over the net, that’s a start.”

You could tell Max was trying to be kind as he went to fetch the ball, handing it back to you again. You stood sideways, like he said, body facing where you wanted to aim, like he said, arm holding the ball out, like he said. But Max wasn’t happy yet. The feeling of a figure right behind you made your body tense up as Max held his hands over both of yours.

“Let’s do it together,” he whispered, getting you to throw the ball up, swinging the racket back. You let Max guide you as the racket hit the ball, watching it go over the net with plenty more power the second time around. “And make sure you follow through with your swing too.”

The two of you practised a few more times before George and Carmen stepped onto the court. Max jogged over to you as you got yourself ready, draping his arm across your shoulders.

“We can beat these two easily,” he joked, trying his best to lighten your mood and fill you with confidence, “serve like I taught you and we’ll be just fine.”

You nodded in reply as George shouted for you to hurry up, taking your positions on the court. Whilst you and Carmen both stood relaxed, George and Max both looked up for the battle, determined to beat each other and earn themselves bragging rights.

George passed the ball to Carmen to start your game off, with Max easily reaching the serve and returning the ball. You found yourself a little lost on the court as Max raced around, almost forgetting as if you were there most of the time. After a bit of back and forth, mostly between the boys, Max lobbed the ball just over Carmen’s head giving you the point.

“That was perfect,” Max cheered as he turned around to approach you, offering his fist for you to fist bump.

You couldn’t help but admire the sudden competitiveness that appeared in Max, it didn’t matter if he was in a car, on the court, or just getting into the car with you, he wanted to be first no matter what.

“It’s your turn to serve now,” Max told you, placing the ball on your racket, “just remember what I told you and you’ll be just fine.”

You took the ball as Max offered you a reassuring smile, turning your body so that you were facing George. You could be forgiven for thinking he was a professional with how he stood, leaving you intimidated opposite him.

You remembered Max’s words as you swung the racket back, throwing the ball up into the air. You took a deep breath before swinging the racket forwards, watching on as the ball flew across the net, leaving a dumfounded George swinging and missing to return your serve.

“What the-“

“Babe! Where did that come from?”

George was frozen to the spot, feeling Carmen’s eyes on him. Meanwhile, Max ran over to you, wrapping his arms around your frame and twirling you around in the air.

“Have you secretly been practising or something?” Max chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “that was one of the best serves that I’ve ever seen in a game of padel.”

You weren’t quite sure where it came from, and truthfully, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to hit a ball like that again, but feeling the excitement that radiated from Max made it all worth it. He couldn’t quite believe what he had seen, laughing away to himself in disbelief.

“Turns out I might be better at this than you,” you teased once Max put you down, “I guess you can just call me the padel queen.”

“You told me that she’d never played before,” George called out, letting the reality of what just happened sink in.

Max shrugged in reply, unable to help George. “I swear, I’ve never seen her play like that before. If you want to quit now, just say. I think we know who’s going to win this game now.”

George brushed his hand through his hair as Max took a hold of your hand, leading you back to your positions on court again. There was still a wave of surprise across the net from you as Max took the ball to serve this time.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do it?” You joked, feeling Max’s eyes land on you, the corners of his smile turning up.

“Hey, you might be good, but you’ve got nothing on me yet.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[lick-me-lennon22]

Poly!Beatles X F!Virgin!Reader - Open Invitation

(HELLO AGAIN!!! my sincerest apologies for the short hiatus, I've been struggling with some heart issues and work troubles but I am back in business and rest assured, all of your requests WILL be filled !! ✨️ please enjoy this lovely request from anon :) 💕)

⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️!!! VERY NSFW!!!⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

You'd wondered about the strange look they seem to have shared, but thought nothing of it until reached your hand in your pocket to pull out a lighter, only to find a scrap of paper. The boys had slipped a special invitation into your pocket at your meet and greet, one they had been saving for a very special fan.

But here you were, standing in the hotel hallway and staring up at the door in front of you, glancing down at the slip of paper to make sure you have the right room number. You suddenly began to get cold feet, wondering if this was some kind of sick joke. Would you open the door, only to be met with bewildered expressions on unfamiliar faces? Or, even worse, would you be greeted by the four of them, cackling like a pack of hyenas at your gullible nature?

You push away those unwelcome thoughts, putting on as brave a face as you can muster and raising a trembling hand to the door. You knock thrice as instructed, waiting with bated breath. Until...

"Y/N! We were beginning to worry you'd run our invitation through the wash. Come on in!" Paul welcomes you, holding the hotel door open.

You sigh in relief and chuckle nervously, taking a few tentative steps into the suite, the scent of cigarette smoke and cologne almost overpowering. The other three all greet you, seated in various positions on the sectional sofa.

A voice stands apart from the others, clearer than the rest - it's John.

"We've been looking forward to this all week."

Your heart skips a beat and you look to him with innocent confusion.

"And... what, exactly, is this?"

The four men exchange shocked glances, having assumed you knew what was intended by the invitation.

"Well, we thought... you know, with us," Ringo begins, but John cuts him off.

"We want to shag ya. The four of us," he explains bluntly.

George gives him a swift elbow to the ribs.

"Knock it off, mate! You'll scare the poor thing." John only rolls his eyes in response.

You're taken aback by the proposition. You know no one in their right mind would pass up such an opportunity and, though not opposed, you can't help but feel intimidated. This would be your first time, and with The Beatles? All of them?!

Paul interrupts your train of thought.

"You really don't have to, we can just-"

"No, no! Believe me, I've dreamt about this forever. It's just..." you trail off, somewhat embarrassed.

"What is it? You can tell us, we won't judge," Ringo encourages, but John interjects.

"If we didn't say anything about that outfit you wore to our concert, you know we're good for it," he snickers.

George throws him another jab to the ribs with his elbow.

"Ow!"

You ignore his snide comment, too focused on the matter at hand to be offended.

"I'm... a virgin," you admit, bracing yourself for laughter. Instead, you're met with gentle nods and understanding expressions from the four men. They take a moment to process your admission.

"We wouldn't want to pressure you," assures George as you take a deep breath.

You take a moment to consider the idea. On one hand, this is an important part of someone's life, a milestone - not exactly a decision to be rushed. But on the other... it's The Beatles. I mean, come on. This is the opportunity of a lifetime.

"Well, if there was ever a good time... I suppose this would be it."

"You sure, love?" Ringo chimes in. "The last thing we'd want is for you to feel uncomfortable."

"I'm sure."

"Well, all right then." They share another look amongst themselves before John nods and looks to you.

"We'll start off slow then, yeah? C'mere," he says, patting his thighs. You approach, nervous excitement coursing through your veins.

You sit on his lap, your body tense. He places his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them soothingly.

"Loosen up, I wont bite."

"Yeah, right."

He shoots George a look.

"Unless you ask nicely," he says with a wink.

You chuckle, beginning to relax. The others watch intently as John shifts his hands to your waist, gently massaging your sides. He mumbles lazily in your ear, his thick accent intoxicating.

"Speak up, Johnny!"

"Share with the class, will ya?"

"Oh, piss off," John dismisses Paul and Ringo, returning to your ear for a nibble. You giggle at the unfamiliar feeling, his nose brushing against your cheek. He moves to your neck, starting off with gentle kisses before growing bolder, leaving love bites along the junction of your neck and shoulder.

You shiver as his hands wander lower - down to your hips, giving them a squeeze, then coming to rest on your thighs. The size of his hands and the warmth of his palms stir something within you. You inhale sharply, biting your lip as a familiar heat pools in your abdomen - the same kind you feel when you watch the lads perform. Judging by the growing bulge beneath you, it seems John is enjoying himself just as much.

"Is this okay?"

"Yes!" You reply breathlessly, a little too eager. "Yes. Keep going."

This earns a chorus of chuckles from the group, who have each begun to palm themselves through their trousers at the sight.

John's hands work their way to your inner thighs, caressing and squeezing gently. He mumbles sweet nothings in your ear as he parts them. His warm breath tickles the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"More, I want more."

At that, Paul stands and steps closer to you, twirling a lock of your hair around his finger.

"You want more, do you, pretty girl?"

You nod enthusiastically, whining in arousal.

"Perhaps she could use something in that pretty mouth of hers to muffle those whines," George suggests with a smirk. You get what he's hinting at, biting your lip and giggling nervously as you look up at Paul.

"I'm not sure I know how..."

"Oh, I'm more than happy to show you, love... if you would."

"Please."

"Eager little thing, eh?" George and Ringo tease, but Paul ignores them.

"Sweet girl... I'll give you what you want."

Paul undoes his trousers and drops them to his ankles, followed quickly by his briefs. You can't help but stare, awestruck, and Paul chuckles.

"Like what you see?"

You nod.

"Would you?" he asks, and it takes you a moment to realize he's inviting you to touch. You reach a tentative hand out in front of you.

"No need to be nervous," he soothes, stroking your hair tenderly.

You grasp the base of his length, hand trembling, and Paul groans at the contact. His skin is softer than you's expected, somehow, and you decide you like the feeling. You begin to move your hand up and down, pumping him cautiously as if afraid to hurt him. Your eyes flicker from your own hand to Paul's face, cheeks flushed and mouth agape. The sight of him this way, knowing what you can do to him with just a few simple touches, makes you feel powerful in a way.

Meanwhile, John's hand slips beneath the waistband of your knickers, traveling lower until he reaches your heat. You instinctively tighten your grip on Paul and the two of you moan in tandem. John trails a finger up your slick folds, drawing gentle circles around your clit.

"Mm... are you ready to open up for me, sweetheart?" Paul asks, his voice almost sickeningly sweet. By this point, Ringo and George have both unzipped their flies, tugging their trousers and briefs down past their hips. They're clearly enjoying this little show, pleasuring themselves as they devour you with their eyes.

"Go on, doll," John encourages. "Take 'im into your mouth."

You do as he instructs, eliciting another soft moan from Paul. He tightens his hold on your hair, using all of his willpower to keep himself from tugging you down onto him.

"Oh, good girl... further, if you can. I won't rush ya."

You pull back for a breath before obeying, slowly taking more of him into your mouth. He throws his head back, groaning in satisfaction. A string of curses tumble from his lips at the soft, warm feeling and you hear John snicker behind you. You really start to get the hang of things, falling into a steady rhythm and bobbing your head as if you were made for this.

All of a sudden, your focus is broken as John's fingers cease their movements and you feel them wander lower. He slides a finger inside of you, taking care to go slow - he's far more gentle than you had imagined. You moan around Paul and he growls, faced flushed pink and eyes screwed shut.

"Fuck... don't stop, doll. You're perfect," he praises and you continue as John's hand moves between your legs.

The friction of his fingers along with Paul's words of praise leaves you lightheaded - well, that and the lack of oxygen. As you pull away for air, George clears his throat.

"What about us, Macca?" He quirks an eyebrow, gesturing to himself and Ringo.

Paul hesitates for a moment before sighing, irritated.

"Fine... I'm getting close, anyway," he grumbles, tugging his waistband back up as you pout in disappointment.

Soon enough, Paul takes a seat on the sofa and George and Ringo take his place, pumping themselves idly as they gaze down at you with lust-filled eyes.

"Go on, doll," George begins, a wolfish grin playing on his handsome features. You comply, taking him into your mouth a little too far as you sputter and cough.

"Careful, dear," he chuckles. "Take it slow."

You try again, more gradually this time. John squeezes your hip with his free hand and you squeak, sending pleasant vibrations through George's lower half.

"That's it, love. Nice and easy," he groans, running his fingers through your hair. After a few minutes you gain momentum, growing more confident in your actions. A tight knot forms in George's stomach as he feels the others' eyes on the two of you, heat rising to his cheeks as he lets out another deep growl. You continue your work on him, but Ringo becomes impatient, scoffing and nudging George's shoulder to snap him out of his stupor.

"C'mon, mate. I think it's my turn - that is, if the lass'll have me." He turns to you, a hopeful glint in his blue eyes.

You nod, humming an "mm-hm" around George's cock. He relents, pulling away begrudgingly.

"Fine. Go on, Rich."

"Attaboy, Ritchie," John pipes up, a lazy grin on his face. Paul simply gazes at you through half-lidded eyes, mesmerized by the performance you've been putting on.

Ringo stands before you, trousers undone. He seems a bit nervous, but any reservations he has are quickly overpowered by desire as he sees your glistening lips and messy hair. You reach a curious hand up and Ringo takes it in his calloused one, guiding you to grasp the base of his length. You give him a soft tug, catching him off guard. He draws a breath through clenched teeth, eyes fluttering closed.

You take him slowly into your mouth, your jaw working overtime to accommodate his size. Once you've settled into your pace, you begin to experiment with your tongue, tracing the underside of his cock. He growls almost primally, tightening his grip on your hair and moaning your name as you bring him closer to the edge.

"All right, you've had your fun," George interrupts and buries his own hand in your hair, gently grasping and tugging. You go to work on him once again, in a daze.

"That's not fair, mate. I had her," Ringo retorts, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling you back in his direction. The two men bicker as they stand over you, essentially playing tug-of-war with your mouth.

"All right, all right, that's enough of that." John swats their hands away and they draw back, pouting.

"Yeah, c'mon, lads. We'll each have our turn," Paul chastises.

"In fact, " muses John, "I'd say it's about time Paulie and I take the reigns, eh?" He withdraws his hand from between your thighs, casually licking his fingers clean.

"Wait, wait... and? How's that supposed to work."

"Come with us, love. We'll show you." Paul takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, the other three following suit.

John places a soothing hand on your upper back, ushering you to the bed.

"On all fours, darling. Just relax."

You do as he instructs, getting into position as the others watch on with hungry eyes. John pushes your skirt up above your hips and tugs gently on the waistband of your knickers.

"Can I take care of these for ya?" he smirks.

You hesitate for only a moment before turning back to look at him over your shoulder.

"Yes. Please."

"Eager, are we?" They all chuckle and John slides them off, his trousers growing even tighter at the sight of you bare before him.

"Christ, you're soaked," he murmurs and you blush, somewhat embarrassed.

"Is that... bad?"

"Oh. Right." You bite your lip. John undoes his trousers and lines himself up at your entrance, stroking your hair to calm you.

John chuckles, amused by your inexperience. "No, sweetheart, not at all. It tells me you're excited - y'know, ready for me."

"Now - you're sure you want this, yeah?"

"Yes! Yes. I've thought it through, and..." you draw a breath, "this is what I want."

John groans, satisfied by your response.

"All right. Relax your body as much as you can, and keep your breathing steady. Don't worry, I'll be gentle," he reassures and you nod.

"Ready for me, love?"

You hiss and squeeze your eyes shut. John waits for your body to adjust to the intrusion before gradually sinking all the way in, using your hip as leverage while he buries himself inside you. The others look on with a combination of jealousy and need, wishing they were the ones to fill you.

"Yes! Yes. I want you, John," you beg and he takes your cue, pushing slowly into you.

"Fuck, doll. You're so bloody tight," John growls as you grip the bedsheets beneath you. The other three groan, imagining themselves in John's place. After a few moments, he speaks up.

"I'm going to move now, doll."

John begins to move, sliding in and out of you slowly, careful not to hurt you. You whine in pleasure, the sudden friction causing you to arch your back further. His breathing grows heavy, grunting as he increases his pace.

"Mm-hm," you whimper and brace yourself.

"Ah... fuck. Uh-huh," you manage as John continues to fuck you into the mattress.

"Mm... you're doing so good. Think you can take Paulie too?" he challenges and Paul lifts his head, pausing his movements.

Paul approaches, a sly grin on his boyish features as he stands in front of you.

"Yes, Paulie, yes! I need you all so bad."

"Sure you can handle it, love?"

You moan around him as he slides himself into your mouth, stilling when he hits the back of your throat. He pauses, composing himself before sliding in and out of your mouth, gripping the base of his length as he guides himself.

Your words elicit a collective moan from the men and Paul presses his tip to your mouth, eager to have you again.

"She's damn good, ain't she, Paulie?" he asks through his own pleasured grunts. Paul hums in agreement as the two men thrust in and out of you, the rhythmic push and pull scrambling your thoughts and dulling your senses.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, "Her mouth feels so good Paul groans as John chuckles breathlessly, increasing his pace to match Paul's.

"Feeling generous, love? You've got two hands, after all," Ringo points out. In your lust-filled trance, you raise your arms, offering your hands to the two men. They gratefully accept, thrusting into your fists as the four of them surround you.

Ringo and George, stroking themselves to the sight, begin to feel left out and approach the bed.

You take care of the men's needs surprisingly well considering your lack of experience.

"She's too bloody tight to have done anything before. Trust me, Macca," he groans, gripping your hips as he fucks you into the mattress.

"You sure you haven't done this before, doll?" Paul questions, but John interjects.

"Fuck... Christ, love. Where do you want me?" he asks and you consider your options.

Your whines increase in pitch and frequency, but you certainly aren't alone as all of the men approach their climaxes.

"On my ass," you reply and he pulls out near-immediately, spilling his load on your lower half. You revel in the warmth, moaning around Paul as he approaches his own summit. He pulls out of your mouth, unloading onto your pretty face while you lie as still as possible, drunk on the taste of him.

"Bloody hell, Y/N..." Ringo murmurs.

While John and Paul catch their breaths, George and Ringo increase the speed of their movements, driven by the sight of you drenched in their bandmates' cum.

"I-I'm going to-" he pulls out of your hand, covering your chest and shoulder with his hot cum as George does the same, groaning your name loudly.

The five of you take a moment to breathe, all of you sweaty and spent. You collapse onto the bed, none of them really caring about the mess.

"You should probably clean yourself up, love," Paul suggests. Begrudgingly, you rise from the bed and head for the attached bathroom. You manage to make yourself decent, dressing yourself in a t-shirt one of the boys left behind before stepping back out into the bedroom.

They all stare at you in disbelief, mouths agape.

"So, uh... can one of you drive me home?"

"Plus, you ARE wearing my shirt," John points out.

"You really think we're going to let you go back to your flat after THAT?" George asks, incredulous.

You chuckle in response.

"Guess not," you reply, flopping down on the bed. The men clean themselves up, returning to your side.

"So good for us," George adds, nosing into your hair while the others hum in agreement.

"Such a good girl, you are," Paul praises and kisses your forehead.

By the time they start arguing about John hogging the covers, you're already drifting off to sleep, the familiar chatter comforting you and quieting your mind.

"Aww. Look at that, lads. Guess we lulled her to sleep," Ringo snorts.

"Yeah, but I should-" John pauses, interrupted by your faint snoring.

They each lean over to place kisses on your cheeks, whispering their own "goodnight"s and finally shutting the light off to join you in your slumber.

[givemea-dam-break]

please, could you write something were the reader is part of kipps crew and lockwood is like obsessed with her. anytime they encounter he goes out of his way to be nice to her and kipps finds it so weird because she is like is best friend or sister even. that would be so cool! also love the new things you’ve posted earlier!!!

a/n: of course! I love this idea, and thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed them :) this is a mix between the books and the show (not overly obvious though)

warnings: language female reader (few pronouns used)

part two

"Seems like we've saved you again, Tony," Kipps says smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Maybe if you did your research properly, we wouldn't need to come and clean up your mess."

George Karim scowls. "Not all of us can press a button and have everything we need right under our fingers."

"Besides, you didn't save us," Anthony Lockwood, the face of Lockwood and Co, says. "We had it all under control."

You break off from Kat's side, inspecting the damage around the park, and make your way over to Kipps. "If by under control, you mean you were surrounded by fourteen Wraiths with very few salt bombs or magnesium flares left to defend yourself with, then yeah, you had it under control."

"(name) -" Lockwood blinks, then plasters on that smile of his. "How nice to see you."

Against your better judgement, you smile. "You seem to be making a habit of us saving your asses. I hope it's not some excuse to see Kipps' pretty face."

Kipps, your team's supervisor, frowns at the pair in front of you. Off to the side, Bobby Vernon is instructing a few other Fittes agents, disposing of the source of the horde of Wraiths. Kat, as blank-faced as always, stands on the other side of Kipps, and Ned Shaw... Well, he's somewhere. Probably glowering at some poor child.

"No, I can assure you, Kipps' face is the last thing I want to see on a case," Lockwood says, sending a charming grin your way. "It's perhaps even scarier than the Wraiths."

You laugh softly, earning a glare from your supervisor. It's hard suppressing your smile.

"I expect we'll see you more this week, Tony," he says. "It seems that without your little Listener, you're getting even worse than before."

George bristles, fists clenching by his sides. "We were doing perfectly fine on our own. Now, if you don't mind, we'd better be on our way."

Lockwood straightens. "You're right, George. But, first, we need our pay."

"Oh, no," Kipps says. "No, see, we secured the Source, so, by DEPRAC rules, the commission is ours."

"You can't be serious," Lockwood says. "This was our case."

Kat, face void of any emotion, says, "Well, it's ours now."

George moves a step closer, knuckles white with tension, but Lockwood pulls him back, murmuring something in his ear. Angrily, Karim storms past you and out of the park.

"Best be off, Tony. Don't want to stay out too much later. I'm not sure we can be bothered saving you from more ghosts."

Lockwood ignores him, casting his gaze on you. "See you around, (name)."

You smile again. "See you, Lockwood."

And, then he's gone, striding off to catch up with George. You watch him go, curiously, until he's past the hedge line of the park and faded into the darkness of the night.

"Stop it."

You turn to Kipps, frowning. "What?"

"Stop looking at him like he's God's gift to the world," he grumbles. "He's an idiot, and he's the competition unless you've forgotten. Stay away from Lockwood - it won't end well."

Nodding, you cast his words aside immediately. It only makes you want to know him more.

"I'm serious, (name). You're like a sister to me, and I can't afford for you to get sidetracked and then hurt because of him."

Too late, you think. You have most definitely gotten sidetracked.

--

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Scrounging around in your bag, your heart is pounding and your face feels hot with embarrassment. You can't find your purse, and there's a big long queue of people behind you, waiting for their turn to order with expressions of irritation. God, you want to melt into the floor and die. Someone groans behind you, their frustration seeping into your bones.

"Oh, my god, I'm so sorry. Just give me a minute -"

"Here you go," a voice says, and an arm reaches out beside you, passing a twenty-pound note to the cashier.

You take your coffee from her hand and shuffle out of the way quickly, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much. If I can find my purse, I'll pay you back."

"No, no, you're fine." That voice... Something about it is familiar.

Looking up, your jaw goes slack. "Lockwood! Oh, hi. How are you?"

His mouth splits in a grin. "Hey. I'm good. I'd ask how you are, but judging from how red you are, I think I can guess."

"I'm so sorry you had to pay, just let me -" You begin searching in your bag again, but Lockwood's hand closes over yours, halting the movement. Sparks run up and down your arm at the touch.

"(name), it's perfectly fine. My treat."

Your worried expression softens. "I can't thank you enough, Lockwood."

"Don't worry about it." He hesitates for a moment, eyes flickering over your face. "Do you want to come back to Portland Row with me? Chat over some doughnuts, maybe?"

Despite Kipps' warning, you want to accept, but you can't, as much as it pains you.

"I'm sorry," you say. "I've got to get back - we've got a case to get to in a few hours. I was just getting some sort of caffeine to energise me beforehand."

He looks a little disappointed, but he's still smiling. "That's alright. Maybe another time?"

You grin. "Sure. And, thank you, again, Lockwood. Really. You saved me from melting into a puddle of embarrassment back there."

"It hurt to watch," he jests. "Should I prepare my gear at home, just in case Lockwood and Co have to come save you Fittes lot for once?"

Laughing, you say, "No, but thanks. No offence, but I think we're a little more qualified for this job than you are, Lockwood."

There's a pause, one in which he only looks at you, smiling. Then, "Call me Anthony."

--

Before you lose confidence, you knock on the pale blue door before you.

Portland Row is quiet, despite it being mid-afternoon and summertime, but you don't really mind. With the sun beating down on your back, and a warm breeze that smells faintly like cut grass, you couldn't be more relaxed even if you tried.

The door swings open, revealing the face of George Karim, who doesn't seem overly pleased to see you.

"What do you want?"

You're taken back a little by his forwardness. "Oh, I just thought I'd come nip round and pay you guys a visit. I brought a bunch of doughnuts and biscuits and stuff from Arif's." You hold the box in your hands a little higher.

"George," a voice calls - Lucy Carlyle's, judging from the pitch. "Who is it?"

"(name), you know, Fittes agent? Kipps' crew?"

"I've brought treats from Arif's," you say over George's shoulder. "I come in peace."

"Oh, for god's sake, George, let her in!"

This time, it's Lockwood - Anthony - who speaks. He opens the door wider so that he and George are standing shoulder to shoulder in the frame. His wide smile is dazzling, and, as usual, his clothes are crisp and clean, as if he put them on right away after being ironed and hasn't moved in them lest they crease.

"Hey, (name). Thanks for bringing food."

He nudges George out of the way and gestures for you to come inside, which you do albeit cautiously.

The house isn't what you expected at all. With three teenagers living there, you assumed it'd be rather modern, but the wallpaper is old, and all sorts of decor and memorabilia hang on the walls. Masks, photos, and the likes. Straight ahead, Lucy Carlyle stands on the stairs, dressed in a comfy top and shorts, and despite the tension between your agency and theirs, she smiles at you before hurrying down the stairs and disappearing into what you assume is the kitchen. George follows her, frowning.

Deftly, Lockwood takes the large box of sweet treats from your hands.

"What's the occasion?" he asks, leading you down the hall to the kitchen.

"It's just a thank you for paying for my coffee the other day," you say. "Also, I wanted to see you, and I figured George wouldn't let me within ten feet unless I brought goods."

Lockwood laughs. "Well, you're right about that."

The kitchen isn't the largest you've seen, but it's cosy. Lucy is clearing space on the table which, oddly enough, is covered in a white tablecloth full of scribbles and writing. George is boiling the kettle over to the side, four mugs set out in front of him, though one is considerably smaller than the rest.

You can't blame him for not liking you. Although Kipps is like your brother, you know that he goes too far sometimes, and he's never been particularly nice to Lockwood and his friends. You're a part of his team, so their dislike for Kipps - or George's, at least - has extended to you.

"Please, sit," Lockwood says, gesturing to one of the seats.

Smiling a little awkwardly, you sit down as he separates the contents of the box onto different plates. Lucy takes the seat next to you, plucking one of the doughnuts straight out of the box and smiling.

Lucy has never had the warmest personality, or so you've heard, but the doughnuts have seemingly put you in her good books. That eases your discomfort a little.

George sets cups of tea down on the table before sitting down himself, just as Lockwood does, too. They all take their pick of the treats, grinning and chatting away.

"So, (name)," Lockwood says. "How did your case go the other day?"

Lucy raises her eyebrows. "You're keeping tabs on Fittes now?"

"We ran into each other a couple of days ago," you explain. "We stayed and caught up for a little bit."

George frowns. "Is that why you took so long getting back from your shopping trip?"

Lockwood sips his tea. "Yeah, I suppose. Anyways, how was it?"

"Fine," you say. "Some lady was murdered by her son a few decades ago, wanted revenge on the family - you know, the usual."

"Please tell me Kipps got a little injured," George says.

"George!" Lucy hisses, but something in her eyes tells you she doesn't feel much different than he does.

"Unfortunately for you, no, he didn't. Since he's just our supervisor, he stays within an iron circle and shouts orders at us."

"Surely that must get annoying?" Lockwood says. He's watching you carefully, and you can feel your ears growing hot under his gaze. "Having to take orders from someone who can't even see what's going on."

You shrug. "Yeah, it does, but there's not much we can do about it."

"Maybe, you could work with us."

Everyone seems to freeze when Lockwood says that. You slowly look up at him from the pastry you were just reaching for, your face the definition of pure shock. Lucy, bless her, just sits with another doughnut halfway to her mouth, eyes a little wide. But George, oh, George. It takes all your strength not to laugh at the expression of unadulterated surprise, mixed with a little bit of anger, as a biscuit hangs from his mouth.

"What?" you all say simultaneously.

Lockwood only grins wider. "I think it'd be a good decision. If we have one extra agent, it means if we get overbooked, we don't end up with one agent per case and can double up. And I don't think it'd hurt for Lucy to have some female company in the house."

"You can't be serious," George says.

"I am. So, (name)?"

The words are hard to find. "Uh, I mean, shouldn't you guys all talk about this together? I don't want to just be barging in, you know? Besides, I'd need to talk to Kipps, and that'll go down about as well as a magnesium flare in a forest."

"For once," George says, "I agree with (name)."

"Oh, come on." Lockwood waves his hand nonchalantly. "She's an incredible agent, and she'd fit right in. I don't think there's much to discuss."

In all honesty, you feel flattered that Lockwood is offering you a position within his company, only because you admire him so much. Fittes, and just about all of the big agencies, are too bureaucratic, in your opinion, and extremely controlling over cases. Lockwood and Co have free rein, within the rules set out by DEPRAC, and aren't hindered by supervisors or massive amounts of paperwork, all because he had the confidence to split off and set up his own company.

"Let's not rush into any decisions," you say, standing slowly. You don't want to move too quickly and elicit the rage of Karim. "I think I should probably head off. Enjoy the food, and, uh, have a good day."

Smiling awkwardly, you make your way out of the kitchen and hurry to the front door.

Footsteps sound behind you and, as you open the door, Lockwood says, "Wait."

You turn, sighing. "Before you say anything, Lockwood -"

"Anthony."

"Anthony, thank you for the offer, but I really think you should talk to Lucy and George first. I can't just accept without them wanting me to, and that's if I can accept."

Lockwood leans against the doorframe, looking down at you with those dark eyes of his. God, they've got you hooked.

"I will. I just - You're wasted at Fittes, stuck following the orders of someone whose Talent faded years ago."

You give him a look, but it's half-hearted. "Kipps basically raised me, alright? But I get it. Again, I appreciate it, but speak to the two of them first and then I'll consider it."

That seems to be a good enough answer. His smile is blinding. His hand briefly brushes yours, and your breath hitches.

"Give me a call in a few days," you say, "and we'll see where we're at, yeah?"

"Will do."

"I'll see you soon, Anthony."

If possible, his smile only grows brighter. "Likewise, (name)."

As you leave, you can still feel the brushing of his hand on yours, a sensation you hope will never fade.

[tokioangelic]

✧.* Skincare Georg Listing x Reader

(as usual repost from my wattpad, just a cute little fluffy mini fic thingy whatever)

Georg grunted in disapproval as you bundled his hair into a messy bun on the top of his head, making him look a lot like a pineapple. You leaned back to admire your work, laughing in amusement at how funny your boyfriend looked. Georg rolled his eyes playfully, lifting you up onto the Bathroom counter so you could sit on it. He stood between your legs, waiting patiently as you laid out all the skincare products on the counter. (Guys, I don't really do any skin care other than the little scrub exfoliation thingy, Face wash, Cleanser and moisturizer, so this little skincare thing is going to be basic.) "Okay, so first you need to wash your face" You instructed Georg, who stepped away from you for a moment to rinse his face. He held his hand out obediently, letting you squeeze a little Face wash onto his palm. 

Georg followed your instructions, washing his face thoroughly but gently. He stepped between your legs, his arms snaking around your waist as you carefully patted his face dry, Georg scrunching his face as you teasingly tapped his nose with your finger, laughing at his reaction. You reached for the face mask on the counter, Georg leaning forward to kiss your cheek. You turned back to face him, Georg peppering your face with kisses as his hands reached up to cup your cheek. "Georg, it's time for the face mask" You said between giggles, Georg not seeming to care about Face Mask time as he peppered your face with soft kisses. "I want to kiss you" He insisted, his lips sinking onto yours. 

"I Promise I'll let you kiss me as much as you want after the Face mask" You promised, Georg seeming to like that idea. He placed one final kiss to your lips before pulling away, letting you screw open the little Pot of the Fruity scented face mask. You leaned closer to him, focusing on applying the Mask to his skin, lathering it on generously and making sure not to get it in his eyes or mouth. Meanwhile, Your boyfriend admired you, only able to think about the Promise you had made to let him Kiss you to his heart's content. he shuffled from foot to foot impatiently, wanting to finish the little Spa session so that he could kiss and cuddle with you. "Stay still Georg!" You giggled, spreading the mask across his skin. 

"It feels nice and cold," He commented, standing still as you added the finishing touches to the mask. "All done! now you have to leave it on for ten minutes before you wash it off" You informed him, leaning over the sink as you washed your hands clean, putting away the little Jar of fruity face mask. Georg pouted, wanting the face mask to be off straightaway so that he could kiss you. You laughed at his childish expression, splashing him with some of the cold water from the running tap, the water spraying on his shirt that hugged his muscular torso. His jaw dropped in mock offense, his hands on his hips. You laughed, barely having the time to turn off the tap before Georg lunged forward, attacking you with tickles as you squealed. 

You squirmed on the Counter top, squealing with laughter as Georg tickled you all over, your shared laughter echoing around the bathroom. "Georg stop, stop it!" You choked out between giggles, trying to wiggle away from him as he laughed, pulling you into a hug as you giggled breathlessly against his chest, trying to compose yourself. You sneakily slipped his phone out of his jeans pocket, shuffling away from him and lifting the phone to his face, snapping ten photos of him with his face mask on, laughing as you sent it to the Band's group chat. 

"The Guys are going to make fun of me Schatzi" Georg complained, snatching the phone from your hands as you laughed, watching as Georg scrolled through the photos, Messages from The Guys already flooding in. "I think you look adorable" You grinned at Georg, who rolled his eyes, clearly not agreeing with your statement. Georg snaked his hands around your waist, pulling you against him. "Can I please take it off now? I want to kiss you" Georg whined, trying to give you puppy eyes as he batted his eyelashes, the expression making you crack up laughing. You nodded, still shaking with laughter. 

Georg washed off the Face Mask in double quick time, hurriedly wiping his face dry in his eagerness to get back to you and kiss you. "One last thing," You added, holding up your Moisturizer. "Don't worry, you can kiss me straightaway after putting it on"

Georg smiled softly as you massaged the Moisturizer into his skin, visibly enjoying it. "It feels so nice," He commented, his fingers reaching up to brush against his cheek, feeling how soft and smooth his skin was. "My face is so soft!" he exclaimed. You grinned, setting the skincare products aside and cupping his face with both your hands, pecking his lips. "See? Now you've got lovely skin- and you can kiss me as much as you want" 

[wordsarelife]

DAY 2: DRIVING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem!reader

summary: in which you come home for christmas surprisingly and lockwood can proof that his girlfriend is real

notes: this came to me suddenly, because i had to switch some things, don't worry: the regulus one will come, but paired with a similiar request, which i had forgot to connect to each other.

second note: i'm sorry this is so short, but i just had to find something to fill day 2, because of the before mentioned mishap, it's not my best work, but i hope it'll do

there had been times where anthony lockwood had wished upon good friends that could tease him and would keep him company. now he almost wished to burn kipps and george alive.

"so you want us to believe that you 'girlfriend'" kipps raised his fingers, drawing quotation marks into the air "couldn't make it home for christmas"

"that's what i said, yeah" lockwood rolled his eyes

"convenient" george whispered between coughs

"i have a girlfriend" lockwood said aggravated

"sure, buddy" kipps patted his shoulder, almost like he had sympathy for the younger boy

"i do" lockwood repeated more urgently "i literally just got off the phone with her, while you were all sitting here"

"why don't you just call her then?" lucy suggested and she seemed to be the one who was mostly believing right now, so lockwood nodded

"great idea, thank you, luce" he grabbed the telephone from the holder, rolling the numbers quickly. the group waited for someone to pick up, but the call didn't even get through. "oh"

"there was a point about five minutes ago, where admitting you had made her up would've been fine. and now" george paused "now it's just embarrassing, mate"

"i didn't make her up" lockwood protested once again, while kipps' giggle flew through the air. even lucy looked uncomfortable now

"ehh" she said "don't you have photos?"

"she has our photos on her camera"

"convenient" george and kipps sung at the same time.

before lockwood could cry out of sheer frustration, he heard a key turn in the door.

"hello?" a voice called into the hallway "anthony?"

lockwood's eyes lit up at the familiar voice. "huh" he said "you don't believe me? come and see this" he instructed his friends to follow him to the door.

and there were you, already waiting

"y/n" lockwood said smiling "i thought you couldn't make it"

"i wanted to surprise you" you smiled proudly, but you happiness quickly turned into confusion at the unfamiliar and watchful faces behind your boyfriend

"i'm so happy you're here, and" lockwood took a quick look at his friends "just ignore them"

you nodded. lockwood smiled even wider, before he planted a short kiss on your mouth.

kipps and george choked on their breath at the exact same second.

"meet my girlfriend, guys" lockwood smiled and pointed at you

"wow" said lucy giggling "she seems to be real. do you need further confirmation or can we eat the cookies now?" she looked at kipps and george, who still stood in place. "okay" lucy muttered. then she grabbed you gently and walked you around the boys while interlacing your arms. "i'm lucy, you must be y/n"

the three boys watched them walk off into the kitchen. lockwood laughed at the dumbfounded expression of his friends, before he followed you.

"what an unexpected turn of events" george mumbled

kipps nodded "quite unexpected indeed"

taglist: @twistedhistory @bakingintheshire @mqstermindswift @novelizt @mitskiswift99@starzortega

[okwritingandpain]

Penny Lane's Getting Better (The Beatles x Reader)

Chapter 3: Nowhere Man

English was boring. At least it should have been. Paul kept distracting you, he'd told the teacher that he would sit next to you to "help" you adjust to the class. The teacher allowed this, but the teacher had no idea that Paul just wanted to distract you all class. 

He would pass notes and whisper in your ear when the teacher turned her back. You wanted to stab his eyes out, but you restrained the best you could. When class was over, Paul follows you out into the hall. 

"What's your next class?" he asks with a smug expression. 

"Art," you reply, worried you might have to suffer another class with him. 

"Damn, I didn't take art. I think John has that class though. I'd love to be in a class with him," Paul stammers on endlessly. "He's a real great guy, you know? He just is this amazing person he--"

"I need to go," you cut-in, heading towards a random hallway. 

"Other direction!" he calls, making you turn around. 

You make it to Art just in the nick of time. John let's you sit by him as he smiles. 

"Did Paul bother you all of last class?" John smirks. 

"Yes, actually," you reply and he snickers as the the teacher enters the class. 

"It seems we have a new student today, class," the teacher says, looking at you. Everyone turns to stare at you, a thousand judgmental eyes, well except for John. He has a goofy, stupid grin on his face as everyone stares. He's basking in the fact he already knows you while everyone else doesn't. 

See, the more time you've spent with John and his friends, the more you've thought about how unpopular they are with everyone else. It makes you question if you should be hanging out with them, or maybe some of the other girls instead. 

The teacher clears her throat and class begins, she instructs the class on different artistic techniques and shading. Once again, you find yourself distracted by John who scribbles on his paper crude images of other students. He laughs and snickers to himself and the rest of the table. 

"Mr. Lennon," the teacher slams her hand on table next to him. John drops his pencil and looks up at the teacher with guilty eyes. 

"Yes?" he pretends to be unaware that he did anything wrong. 

"This isn't a good impression to leave on our new student," the teacher glances at you. You avoid her eye contact before she moves you to a separate table. The rest of class is boring, John steals glances at you and he smirks each time. Class ends quickly and you shuffle out, looking for John. 

"Hey." he grabs your shoulders, causing you to spin around. 

"Hey," you say back, trying to sound causal. John smirks at you, walking past you to where Ringo and George are standing. 

"It's time to get some food," John says, motioning you over. 

You looked around the boys, noticing George's shy behavior once more. Ringo snickers in his ear and pats him on the back. 

The three whisper to one another as someone comes up behind you. 

"There she is," Paul says, placing only one hand on your shoulder. He smiles at you, brightly and genuinely. He notices your distance from the group and pulls you over to them. "You have to get out of your comfort zone someday," he whispers and places his arm around your shoulders.

John glares at Paul who smirks back. George and Ringo act like nothing is happening, obviously wanting to avoid a confrontation. 

"You said we were getting something to eat?" you say, breaking the tension. John nods and grumbles something under his breath before starting down the hallway. He was like a quiet thunder after a bolt of lighting. George and Ringo follow closely behind. 

"Ladies first," Paul motions for you to step froward. You blush, charging after them with Paul at you heals. 

Sometime later, you and the lads ended up outside. Penny Lane was bustling with people as everyone rushed for items and luxuries during their short break. 

John didn't seem in a hurry, but Paul did. 

There was something so odd about the two of them. They felt so different, but yet they both acted the same sometimes. Like in class, they both distracted you with notes and whispers. 

You didn't get it, but something was going on between them that only George and Ringo seemed to get. 

Maybe that was for the better...

Paul kept near you, walking hastily ahead the group. From time to time George or Ringo would run up to walk with you both, but they usually fell back in line with John behind them. 

"So, are you going to tell me where we're going?" she looks to Paul, but expected an answer from someone else. 

Then the entire group stopped in front of a large red gate. It was surrounded by a large brick wall that read:

"Strawberry Field"

You raised your eyebrow. 

"Welcome to Strawberry Fields," John says, pushing past you to the gate. He pulls on it a couple of times before ushering George over. It was like they were in a circus act as George climbed on to John's shoulders, being lifted over the brick wall. 

"You know I think it says, 'Strawberry Field,'" you say, but everyone ignores you. Ringo is lifted up next, then John helps you over the wall. 

You sit at the top of the wall looking down at the boys like a queen to her knights. George and Ringo are already on the other side, conversing amongst themselves. 

They wait for you to join them, but instead you are more interested in what John and Paul are doing. 

They are whispering to each other, but it doesn't seem to be in quite a friendly way. 

"Back off, Paul," John hisses. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, I am simply being nice," Paul says, calmly back. 

"Bulls--" John gets cut off.

"You boys coming or what?" you call, looking down at them. 

"Coming!" Paul yells, pushing past John and jumping on to the wall. You help him up the rest of the way and he smiles as he sits next to you. John glares at Paul and jumps on to the wall. 

He gets up fine on his own before Paul smirks and pushes John off the wall. 

You cover your mouth in surprise as Paul laughs. John grumbles on the ground and George comes to his aid. You quickly get off the wall, afraid that Paul might push you off too. 

"John? Are you okay?" you help him up as he mumbles under his breath. 

"He's fine," Paul says, jumping off the wall and standing next to you. 

"What's gotten into you?" John snaps at Paul. He then storms away farther into the fields. To your surprise, the fields were covered in strawberries just like the sign had said. 

Paul huffs and you glares at him. 

"What has gotten into you?" you whisper, following after John with the other boys.

Paul stays where he is and sighs. 

You rush after John through the strawberry field with George and Ringo on your heels. 

"I can't believe Paul is acting so--"

"I can't exactly blame him," George cuts, probably being the most words he's ever said to you. 

"What do you mean?" you ask, stopping in your tracks. Ringo gasps for breath as George stares at him. 

"It's obvious that something is making them jealous," George says. 

"Or someone," Ringo adds.

"Jealous?" you ask, "You don't mean..."

Ringo and George exchange glances. 

"They both--" George is cut off as Paul runs out from the the brush of strawberries. 

"There you four...three are," he says, fixing his hair. George and Ringo continue walking away and leaving you with Paul. You turn to Paul, maybe confronting him was the best thing to do. 

"What's with you and John?" you ask, stopping him from following the others. He sighs, brushing his hair back. He looks as if he's trying to avoid the question. 

"It's complicated," he mutters. 

You glare at him.

"Fine," he hisses, glancing around. 

"Listen, John and I have been through hell and back, but neither of us can agree sometimes." Paul explains, pacing around the rows of strawberries. He picks one of the strawberries and eats it. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" you push, it seems nobody in this friend group could just be forward with their explanations. 

"John likes you, okay?" he crosses his arms. 

"He does?" you can't help but smile a bit. 

"Don't get all smiley on my now," he snaps, walking closer to you, "you don't understand. John likes you, but I...I can't have that." He frowns, holding himself like a hug. He doesn't face you, but you know that there is something bothering him. 

"Why?" is all you say. Your frustration was disappearing as you walk closer to him. 

"John and I are close. Terribly so, I worry about him all the time. His parents aren't around, he lives with his aunt, he's always getting into trouble...I need him to be protected. " Paul sits down surrounded by strawberries. "That's all I want for him, but sometimes I get a little greedy, I supposed. I just worry you'll take him away from me."

You sit next to him and lean your head on his shoulder. 

"I'm not taking him away from you, Paul. I just want to be a part of the friend group, you know?" you smile as his face brightens up. 

He take your hand. 

"Thank you," he whispers. 

"George said there was jealously between you and John...could you maybe explain that?" you ask. 

Paul blushes. 

"Well, I've never told anyone but--"

"Oh, look who it is," John hisses, walking out from the brush with the other guys. Paul let's go of your hands and stand up quickly. 

"John, I'm sorry about what I did--"

"Save it," John says, grabbing your arm and pulling you up, "Class is starting again soon, let's go." They walk towards the gate again. Paul sighs, nodding to you and following at the back of the group. 

"John, maybe you should listen to him," you whisper to him. 

"Shut it, he doesn't know what he's talking about. I can't believe I took his ass in sometimes, such a nowhere man..." he helps you over the wall again. 

You head back to school and wonder for the rest of the day what Paul was trying to say to you. 

@sabrielka-133

[jaye-of-the-glen]

[ @os-mapmaker ]

Greetings. You may call me the Mapmaker. I am on a mission to learn about all currently known timelines and their residents.

…Huh. I don’t think I have yet come across an Avian Character that resembles you in the other timelines I have visited.

Anyway, I hope you would not mind answering a few questions.

Interview: Jaye

[START]

⠀

So, I’ve heard you have a tendency to fall asleep for several days or even weeks. Is that something that is common of all Glenfolk in your world, or is that unique to you?

[Video Connection Available] [Engage Asynchronous Link?] [Initializing...] [You may now engage in asynchronous video interview. Video link may be paused at any time for your convenience. When paused, time will not pass for World Machine ███-████.]

A webcam flickers on. You see an avian with white feathers & a cracked yellow beak. She's wearing a shawl & tattered purple top bearing the symbol of the Sun. You note the tired expression on her face, visible even in her avian expression. You also notice that she appears to be in a wheelchair. The link appears stable, for now.

Good morning! A mapmaker, huh? That's new. I'm not going to lie, it would be very nice to have a better idea of all the differences between the worlds. There are wayyyyy too many Nikos to keep track of.

While cheerful, you note that Jaye cannot hide her fatigue. Every few sentences, she has to pause to catch her breath.

Speaking of, please tell me if you ever find another me! I'd love to talk to her. Maybe figure out more about my... condition. Jaye gestures towards her wheelchair. Also, I've never been called Avian before - that's a first. Mostly we call ourselves birdfolk or glenfolk.

By the way, why Mapmaker & not like, Cartographer or Archivist? Do the timelines have, like, a shape you can actually map out? Or is it just a figure of speech?

Oh, & I also wanted to mention, there are other blogs in my timeline, actually! Magpie was the one who set me up with a tumblr account to begin with. I know George & Kip are on here. Oh! And so is Niko! Here's the blog links: ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓

You attempt to examine the links but they appear to lead nowhere. Even the Niko blog returns no results. It seems those blogs cannot access your Singularity - to put it in simpler terms, you cannot see them from the Inversion. Yet Jaye says Magpie introduced her to the multiverse. Why is Jaye's blog in the Singularity but not the others? Are there other Singularities you don't have access to? Perhaps you are going about this all wrong. A better question: Is it Jaye's timeline that is unique, or Jaye herself? Querying Jaye more closely about the differences between her timeline & others may be instructive, in addition to learning more about Jaye herself.

Anyways, sorry I'm rambling. To answer your question, the sleep thing is a problem pretty unique to me. It actually used to be a lot worse - I fell asleep for over 2 years at one point. It's been a long-term issue, but the events leading up to the return of the Sun exacerbated it. It's... a very unusual & unnatural condition to say the least, & a long story that involves my World Machine. I don't have all the answers but... I think I'm ready to talk more about it, if you would like to hear.

[random-conspiracy]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I want to adress this concept in a deep way BUT 1) I have literally no time to waste and 2) I don't want to write right now, specially in english. My hsnds are so fucking cold and have been acting numb since the beggining of the day. But whatever. The topic is:

Irrational embellishments of a City.

Look, the group as we know it of the surrealist artists (Andre Breton + Gang) reported multiples experiments surrounding the possibilities of irrational knowledge. What would the mind express when there is no rational or concious effort that could change its outcome? Dreams were a fucking incredible area of studies for the surrealism group because it was the purest expression of irrational knowledge. Other techniques revolving around speed: Giving an answer or writing ideas as fast as you could was an accesible way to obtain information not contaminated by logical or rational thought.

NOW one of those games/experiments was giving answers to questions in that exact way. Sometime around objects, dates, etc. The one that I want to bring back to table is On certain possibilities for the irrational embellishments of a City, where they suggested changes and renovations for the monuments of Paris: The Arch of Triumph, the Justice Palace, the statue of Joan D'Arc, the Eiffel Tower, etc.

(REMIND ME TO ADD REFERENCES ABOUT THE WRITTEN REPORT OF THE GAME/EXPERIMENT)

Instructions: Every participant must answer the question regarding the architecture/urbanist changes to do in a certain monument. The players were Andre Breton, Paul Eluard, Arthur Harfaux, Maurice Henry, Benjamin Peret, Tristan Tzara, George Wenstein.

Doit-on conserver, déplacer, modifier, transformer ou supprimer : – 1. L’arc de Triomphe – 2. L’obélisque – 3. La Tour Eiffel – 4. La Tour Saint-Jacques – 5. La statue de Chappe – 6. La statue de Gambetta – 7. La statue de Jeanne-d’Arc (rue de Rivoli ) – 8. Paris pendant la guerre – 9. La Défense de Paris en 1870 – 10. La République (place de la République) – 11. La colonne Vendôme – 12. Le Sacré-Cœur – 13. Le Trocadéro – 14. Le Chevalier de la Barre – 15. Le Lion de Belfort – 16. L’Opéra – 17. Les Invalides – 18. Le Palais de Justice – 19. La Sainte-Chapelle – 20. Le Chabanais – 21. Notre-Dame – 22. La Nationale – 23. La statue de Panhard – 24. La statue d’Alfred de Musset – 25. La statue de Clémenceau – 26. Le Panthéon – 27. La statue d’Henri IV – 28. La statue de Victor Hugo (Palais-Royal) – 29. La statue de Louis XIV – 30. La gare de l’Est- – 31. La statue de Camille Desmoulins ?

(To concerve, displace, modify, transform or suppress)

THE FUCKING POINT: Is that the City is a maleable piece of shit. The city is the face of a society and a culture. The monuments and the streets can be read like lines in a hand, scars, moles.

The city shapes our undertanding of it, and we are the ones who shape it (usually). NOW, what happens when our monuments and buildings are changed? Think about protests and riots. Buildings in fire or demolished according to the way they represent a philosophy and philosophies are changed.

BUT BUT BUT BUT BUT, what happens when this change is irrational? What happens when the way we change the city is absurd, is nonsensical, is an anomaly?

Paul Éluard suggested "lay it (the Arch of Triumph) on its side and transform it into the most beautiful public urinal in France." Andre Breton suggested about Notre Dame cathedral: Replacing the towers with “immense oil and vinegar cruet, one bottle filled with blood, the other with sperm" and the cathedral itself into a “school for the sexual education of virgins.” He also suggested about the Tour Saint-Jacques (below) to demolish the surrounding houses and then prohibiting all access under penalty of death for one hundred years.

DO YOU THE POINT I'M TRYING GO MAKE HERE???

BUILDINGS ARE NOT INMUTABLE AS THOUGHTS. THEY CAN BE DESTROYED, THEY CAN BE TWISTED. We feel the oppresive and eternal presence of our monuments and towers, buildings, brindges, churches. But they can de changed and bended.

Let's make the Capitol a massive statue of balloons, the Palace Justice in Mexico a communitary pool. Let the Independe Angel statue in Mexico no longer be a roundabout, and allow the cars to go across it i any direction and take down the statue and run over it.

Let Nonsense be the apocaliptic monster that eats politics and religions, and faith and fear and rational blocks of concrete. Let it rot the chains and contaminate the walls, fuck the statues and eat the streets. Let architecture grow legs like moho and eoplod the featyres than never bringa back againts the one that atre chained and nevermore let them die aqnds eat and sleep and fuck ansd never o nevrenma ahwa am iI DON ITR NOR W AN D S;LEEP.

[beechersnope]

Welcome to My Island - Excerpt 1

I was going to wait until I finished this fic before posting any of it, but I accidentally made it like 90,000+ words so here is some of the first portion. This is super whimsical and self-indulgent, but above all: porny. Enjoy.

George/Max, girl!Max, public masturbation in a truth-or-dare-esque scenario, ~700 words

“So what,” Charles suddenly interjects. “You jerk off to the idea of getting P1?”

“Doesn’t have to be P1,” George replies without meeting his eyes. It’s not Charles’s turn, which means George doesn’t technically have to answer, but George can feel Max’s eyes boring into him, expectant, and he feels compelled to challenge Charles’s assumption even though the truth is infinitely more embarrassing than letting the misconception stand. “We just both have to finish.”

“With you on top,” Daniel adds with a smirk, evoking giggles from both Heidi and Charlotte.

Max doesn’t laugh, and when George finally glances over at her, she’s staring at him with a concerned expression—the sort that you might turn on someone whose face is literally melting. Fair enough, he thinks. That’s about how it feels with all the blood in his body rushing unbidden to his cheeks and ears, flushing him hot and cold all at the same time.

Thankfully, Charlotte transitions smoothly into her turn without any prompting. “Daniel,” she says quickly, clearly having already put some thought into her question while the rest of them went around. “Fuck, marry, kill: Toto, Christian, Mattia.”

Daniel scoffs loudly. “Fuck Toto, marry Christian, kill Mattia,” he replies almost instantly. “Easy.” He glances over at Charles and gives a faux-apologetic smile. “Sorry, mate.”

“There’s no need to apologize to me,” Charles replies with a laugh. “I would pick the same.”

He clears his throat and sits up a little straighter as the laugh fades, his eyes scanning the others with an uncharacteristic seriousness.

“My turn, then?” he says, waiting for Daniel’s nod of affirmation before alighting on Max. She sighs long-sufferingly but with a smile. “How many people have you slept with?” Charles asks with an answering grin.

The smile on Max’s face immediately fades. “I—well…”

“If you don’t want to answer, you can always take the hard way out,” Daniel reminds her with a smirk.

Max bites down on her lip until it goes white from the pressure. A few seconds go by as she deliberates, and then finally, she slips down into the water and turns to face the hot tub jet.

“Make sure she doesn’t cheat,” Daniel instructs George, who has absolutely no intention of following through.

George can barely look at her now, unable to see much more than the flex of her arm and shoulder as she maneuvers into a suitable position on her knees. It’s harder for her than it had been for Daniel—usually the girls hook their legs over the side to get the right angle, but George would rather throw himself off the cliff and into the ocean than suggest Max do that.

“I don’t cheat,” Max retorts, tossing a glare over her shoulder in Daniel’s direction.

To her credit, there’s no need for George to make sure of anything. It’s painfully obvious as soon as the stream of water makes contact with Max’s clit through her swimsuit.

Her fingers clench hard enough around the lip of the deck that George wouldn’t be surprised if she somehow managed to crack right through the tile, and her breathing abruptly goes ragged as she violently trembles and shakes.

George stares at her with his mouth hanging open. He can feel the blood rushing from his cheeks to his dick so fast it hurts, and he’s already half-hard in his swim trunks by the time Max stops coming.

“Fuck,” Daniel comments in an awe-struck voice as Max peels herself away from the jet and curls into the fetal position on the bench, still evidently trying to catch her breath. She doesn’t meet his, or anyone else’s, eyes. “Well, that was fucking—something.” He turns to George without warning. “Does she always have a hair-trigger?”

“Not your turn,” George responds automatically. His brain is still mush. He can’t think, let alone navigate the treacherous waters of Daniel poking and prodding at the nature of his relationship with Max.

“It actually is his turn,” Charles points out. “Technically.”

Daniel aims the full force of his smugness at George. “So?”

[artleaguemdcnorth]

DRAWING CLASS INSTRUCTIONS FOR FINAL ASSIGNMENT- 11/28/23

This class will be working on their Final Assignment starting this Thurs (11/13) right after class.

Next week, you will use one day of the week to attend a collection for Art Basel week. You are responsible for attending ICA and DeLaCruz Collection in Midtown.

You will document your visit via your threads account with a #Artweek.

You must include a selfie inside the venues suggested.

Today in class, you will continue to work with the figure for a second time.

Make sure you bring Bristol paper and paints to work in class.

FINAL ASSIGNMENT: 

Create a painting that expresses one of the 30 Articles of the International Declaration of Human rights.

There are three videos to watch in preparation for this assignment.

One is regarding how children are used in sweat shops around India and the world. 

The second video documents how the cosmetics industry works with slave labor as well.

The third video documents how your favorite chocolate brands are created using child slave labor. From Mars to Hersheys, M&M , Snickers all these brands are brought to you thanks to the use of child labor in Africa.

These children are usually abducted from their homes a three to four years of age only to be put in fields working 15 hour days for years. They are never reunited with their parents or family.

You will watch all videos and then look and review all 30 articles from the link included above  the class blog.

I will assign an article to each student on Weds in class . 

You will then create imagery that expresses the importance of that article.

You will begin brainstorming the idea for work on this assignment starting on Tues after class.

This assignment will be due  Tuesday 12/12 at 12:20pm .

We will have a critique on that day at that time.

Materials:

1) You will need  canvas board or canvas.

2) Acrylic paints

For the canvas board or canvas you can use any of the following sizes:

12 x 14 or 

16 x 20

When you start reading about these articles consider how these rights affect yourself and your community and the world at large.

One example would be article Article 4 ,

“ No one shall be held in slavery or servitude; slavery and the slave trade shall be prohibited in all their forms. “

When you think about this article , our first thought is maybe the american slavery of African Americans and Native Americans. 

Beyond that historical content, how can we understand this article in present terms?

Think about human trafficking or drug trafficking which brings countless of individuals who are suffering through poverty from third world countries into different parts of the world. 

Think about child labor.

This situation is still happening in parts of the worls.

In India children are used in sweatshops for cheap labor.

In Africa child labor is used to mine diamonds and for chocolate plantations.

Watch the video below the talks about how that Hershey’s kiss and our snikers chocolate bar is made through the sweat of child labor. 

These children are abducted from their homes at an early age and kept in servitude until they either scape or can pay their way out.

Below is a newspaper report from a couple of years ago about a truck which had over 39 bodies trafficked for the purpose of force labor in England.

These are two examples of seeing one particular article beyond past historical association.

Article 9  and Article 6 are two circumstances that conjure past and present association. 

We witnessed this during the summer of 2020 here in america with the unjust death of George Floyd and so many other minorities who die at the hands of crooked law enforcement agents.

As you approach this assignment think of your duty as a citizen of the world.

How will you work towards a more just and fair society?

These articles offer us a template to live by.

As artist we have an obligation to engage in art that promotes peace and wellness beyond our boundaries.

Think about this as you create your artistic contribution for these rights.

I will post a link to the document above this post along with the videos to watch for this assignment.

Review them before class this Weds.

Below see examples from previous classes.

  DO NOT USE ANY OF THE IMAGERY SEEN BELOW.

You must come up with your own ideas.

A

B

C

THERE WILL BE A POST TOMORROW REGARDING ATTENDING ART BASEL NEXT WEEK WITH ADRESS OF VENUES FOR STUDENTS TO ATTEND.

MAKE SURE YOU READ IT AND COMPLY ACCORNDINGLY.

[gravitascivics]

JUDGING CRITICAL THEORY, XV

[Note: This posting is subject to further editing.]

This blog, as a parting observation in the last posting, pointed out that critical theory has developed into two schools of thought.  The one is reconstructionism and the other is reconceptualization. [1]  Both share certain ideas and claims, but they do vary enough to be considered separately. This posting will address reconstructionism and the next will describe reconceptualization.

         Some credit John Dewey with the founding of reconstructionism and its heyday was during the 1930s – years that coincided with the Great Depression.  As it applied to education – which was Dewey’s main concern – it was/is based on the belief that learning should mostly emanate from one’s experiences.  Further, those recollections of experiences should be reorganized – that is, reconstructed – so that they provide students with added meaning and direction in facing current conditions and subsequent experiences.

         Paulo Freire, whose work was just reviewed in this blog, illustrates how this prescription can be implemented through school instruction.  That would be one approach, but as one reviews how this school of thought has been considered by others, there has been various approaches derived from reconstructionist ideas.  There are those who promote social reforms.  And these other efforts are targeted at those conditions that have rendered the working class being exploited by oppressive conditions.  Low wages, long oppressive hours, unsafe working conditions, child labor were among the conditions they would strive to change in the 1930s and beyond.

         There were those among the reconstructionist groups who encouraged teachers to work in organizing others to join socialist or communist labor movements.  They tended to argue that teachers should teach their students what they deemed to be the follies of capitalism.  And there were those who pushed for teachers to do all these roles, but they added that such actions, even in the days of hostile labor strikes and demonstrations, should be performed without resorting to violence – they believed it was not necessary.[2]

         The overall educational aim was to enhance the ability of students to change themselves so as to allow them to generate the insights necessary to understand their conditions – as being oppressed – and be motivated to work toward the transformation of society.  National figures leading this movement included George Counts and Harold Rugg. They expressed the belief that education could and should be a medium by which to create and promote a new social order.

         The curriculum for which they advocated conceived of education as a force to institute a new spirit for education, one that could be applied to the whole curriculum.  Yes, that curriculum would still teach the basics – reading, writing, math – and the academic disciplines – in the social studies that would be history, government, geography, economics – but to present them in such a way that it would promote this new social order.  In so doing, it would be characterized by a social/communal, as opposed to an individualist, focus.  That is, it would emphasize cooperation, not competition.

         Inherent with such an approach is its ideal vision of society.  That would be an organic (interdependent) view that calls for an interdisciplinary mode of research.  It would disfavor epistemology based on specialization that one associates with positivist/scientific studies that schools generally teach even today.  That is, in seeking reconstruction, one puts aside the use of detached disciplines – which the advocates of the natural rights view favor – and apply multidisciplinary lessons.

But what should be pursued should be done within the context of self-actualization or a proactive effort to have students discover who they really are.  What prevails, though, is something else, i.e., a younger generation – not exclusive to today’s youth – that is overly influenced by cultural and other forces – encapsulated in the prevailing discourses of the day and that affect them at subconscious levels.  Consider today the force of pop culture.[3]  

And added to that general aim in content is the utilization of instructional processes critical pedagogues call praxis.[4]  That praxis should be conducted through sensitivity and penetrating criticism where students actively evaluate what they experience.  And one can add that in relation to social studies – particularly civics – this approach, even if one does not ascribe to it, does offer a good deal of useful ideas.  

Advocates argue that the nation could stand for a good dose of “social self-realization” that could be assisted by adopting various instructional suggestions from the critical approach.  Yet, this school of thought did not enjoy much currency in the US in the thirties or since.  There was the adoption of texts written by Harold Rugg back in those years, but they ran into controversy during the fifties and were removed.

Why were they removed?  Business groups found them offensive.  This blogger can share a bit of firsthand information on this score.  No, he did not teach in the fifties but does have a copy of one of those books – America’s March toward Democracy – and judges it to be fairly mainstream.  As evidence, here is a passage taken from the beginnings of the book:

 ...[F]or at least two centuries and a half [before the Revolution] there was a more widespread spirit of individual liberty in America than in the Old World of Europe and Asia. By that we mean that the Americans were much freer to live and work as they pleased. The chief factor introducing this spirit was the frontier. … On the frontier men and women were forced to depend upon themselves for their living. There was no one else to rely upon for help. … We say that there grew up a spirit of self-reliance, of initiative, of democracy. And this frontier spirit of individual liberty played a most fit important part in changing the American government to the needs of the changing American civilization.[5]

 A passage resembling the Communist Manifesto?  Not really.

         It reminds this blogger of the natural rights construct which guides what is taught in history and civics classes today. In the introduction to the book, Rugg does claim that the text aims to encourage problem-solving activities, and a review of its content – way short of reading every page – this blogger does not find any open-ended problems students are called upon to solve.

         Reconstructionism’s advocates on college campuses during the ensuing years did verge on being radicals – at least some of them.  During the Cold War – especially during the “McCarthyism years” – they were actively hassled and subject to various punishments by the authorities – denial of tenure, FBI investigations, criminal prosecutions, etc.[6]  

More recently, while more success has been experienced by reconceptualization followers, one can find reconstructionist ideas filtering onto published works in professional journals – at least in terms of the topics being addressed.  And with this noting of reconceptualization, the other school of thought, this blogger brings this posting to an end and points out that that school of thought will be the topic of the next posting.

[1] William H. Schubert, Curriculum: Perspective, Paradigm, and Possibility (New York, NY: MacMillan Publishing Company, 1986). Most of the descriptive comments in this and the next posting rely heavily on ideas presented by Schubert.

[2] See Progressive Education and Social Reconstruction, Encyclopedia.com. Website: http://www.encyclopedia.com/doc/1/g2-3468301130.htlm .

[3] “Popular Culture,” Central Community College (n.d.), accessed May 3, 2023, https://libguides.cccneb.edu/popculture#:~:text=As%20the%20name%20implies%2C%20popular,conduct%20themselves%20and%20so%20on.

[4] See “Judging Critical Theory, VII,” Gravitas:  A Voice for Civics, April, 7, 2023.

[5] Harold Rugg, America's March Toward Democracy (Boston, MA: Ginn and Company, 1937), 8-9.

[6] Ellen Schrecker, “Political Tests for Professors:  Academic Freedom during the McCarthy Years,” The University Loyalty Oath (October 7, 1999), accessed May 3, 2023, https://www.lib.berkeley.edu/uchistory/archives_exhibits/loyaltyoath/symposium//schrecker.html.

[winetour2022]

Niagara-on-the-Lake and Wine & Cheese Party

Here I am on the microphone yet again giving everyone instructions as to what is coming up in the next couple of hours (since many of them were not great at reading my 12-page itinerary)...

Many of the gang enjoyed exploring the beautiful town of Niagara-on-the-Lake...

...except maybe these guys, Pat, David, James, and Gordon, who seemed quite content to sit on a bench and watch all the tourists go by...

Meanwhile, I have begun to organize my inaugural Wine & Cheese Party in the park at Fort George where we parked our motor coach...

Michelle and Paul, our bus driver, relax before most people get back from town...

Nice expression, BA...

The girls pose for the camera while Fred orders more cheese.  Not!

At one point, the police showed up and scared the heck out of me as I thought they might put an end to this new idea...but, thankfully, they didn’t!

With music, wine, cheese and lots of our group returning from town, this became a fun break before our next winery...

[policebanana]

Snow on tha bluff 2 release date

Many assumed her tweet was aimed mainly at Cole and Kendrick Lamar, both of whom had yet to post on social media about the protests at the time of her tweeting. niggas whole discographies be about black plight and they no where to be found". "Poor black folks all over the country are putting their bodies on the line in protest for our collective safety and y’all favorite top selling rappers not even willing to put a tweet up. In late May 2020, prior to the song's release and five days after the murder of George Floyd, rapper Noname made a tweet widely panning wealthy rappers who discussed the struggles of black people in their music but had yet to publicly speak out via social media regarding the protests or Black Lives Matter in general. Cole participated in, in his hometown of Fayetteville, North Carolina. Or you can just listen."Snow on Tha Bluff" was released in the midst of the George Floyd protests, which J. Cole did, and take them to task for the way they express the idea. When Black women say they don’t feel respected or safe, you can do what J. Salau tweeted about being sexually assaulted the day she was last seen alive. Cole released this song as Black women expressed their anguish across social media over the death of 19-year-old Oluwatoyin Salau, who went missing earlier this month, having fought on the front lines for the lives of Black men and women alike. It’s worth dwelling for a moment, too, on the specific context here: J. At a time when celebrities are facing scrutiny for their inaction and silence on matters of literal life and death, it’s important for him to speak up-and embarrassing that he used the moment to condescend to a woman about how she communicates with men. “Snow on Tha Bluff” suggests he feels like a fraud of sorts himself: someone who’s been placed on a pedestal he doesn’t deserve someone considering the idea that perhaps he isn’t doing as much for Black people as he can. Cole released “False Prophets,” a song in which he held Kanye West (who he idolized), among others, to the flame. Someone perceptive enough to recognize and contextualize other’s missteps should have some degree of self-awareness. And if you’re complaining about someone’s delivery, there’s a good chance the bigger issue soared right over your head. Men can’t ask women to hold their hands-and then suggest the best way to lead is to follow their instruction. Cole, who’s 35, says during the song’s lone verse. “Just ‘cause you woke and I’m not, that shit ain’t no reason to talk like you better than me/How you gon’ lead when you attackin’ the very same niggas that really do need, the shit that you sayin’?/Instead of conveying you holier, come help get us up to speed,” J. Noname aside, “Snow on Tha Bluff” highlights a pernicious kind of misogyny: Cole’s perspective is that of the man who’s happy to listen to the women in his life, provided they speak to him in a way that flatters his ego. But “Snow on Tha Bluff,” his first single of 2020, is an instance where saying less-or nothing at all-would’ve been ideal.īut the track mostly fails as an attempt to communicate. He’s erred in the past but gotten by, thanks to the same humble honesty that can get him in trouble-you could forgive him, because he at least seemed to be coming from a good place. Cole’s earnestness has largely shielded him from major criticism. His rap conservatism is so deep-rooted that it’s manifested conceptually too: The hip-hop community interpreted his 2018 album, KOD, as sweeping criticism of a new generation of rappers doomed to fizzle out because they aren’t married to the same values that guide him. Cole told this very magazine he’d grown tired of it. His last three albums, you may have heard, went platinum without any guest appearances-the impetus for a joke so worn out that J. He’s self-produced a significant portion of his discography. Cole’s less-is-more approach has made him one of the most successful figures in hip-hop.

[cleake]

HP Characters Reacting To You Drawing Them

Warning: I didn't read the books, these are my headcanons and personal ideas for the characters. It's just for fun. :)

Harry:

-"Oh! Brilliant! Yeah, sure." -He is a bit shy, but flattered, very flattered -He sits in front of you, with a nervous smile, sometimes adjusting his glasses or hair -You assure him that he looks great and he relaxes a bit, sitting more comfortably -While you work he asks from time to time some questions about your drawing journey and listens closely to your answers -He thinks about how you're going to draw his scar, are you going to make it a key thing, or represent him in another way? -When you finish and show him your work he's astonished by your talent -"Wow! This is really good! I can keep it? Oh! Thanks!"

Ron:

-"You want to draw me? I don't think I'm that special." -He's a bit hesitant at first, he feels like he doesn't deserve attention, since he is not "The Chosen One" -But you make him believe otherwise -When sat down Ron is stiff, looking away from you, smiling nervously -You tell him that he looks great and he smiles a bit more confident -He suggests ideas on how you can present him, and he comes up with some sick propositions -Once you're finished he's so happy that he has something made by someone only for him -"Bloody hell, it's fantastic! You need to show your skill more often."

Hermione:

-"Draw me? Well if it makes you happy." -She pretends that it's nothing, she may look annoyed, but inside she cares -She fixes her hair or clothes when you aren't looking -She sits properly, legs together, hands on her lap, head slightly tilted, and a soft smile on her lips -She is mostly silent but asks you questions about what you are doing at a certain moment, she's curious -She's patient, giving you time to make your art perfect, she knows how hard it can be -She's very supportive when she sees your finished work -"This is lovely!"

Fred:

-"Oh yeah? So my beauty captured you this much?" -He's so happy about it but can help not to tease you -"Are you interested in a more intimate portrait?" -He sits in a confident way, taking a lot of space -He gives you ideas for the drawing, like how he could look good on a broom, or fighting You-Know-Who -After he's done with his jokes he lets you work in silence, just sometimes giggling to himself because of your focused expression -When you sometimes look up at him, he sends you a quick wink -He's very happy when you finish the drawing, he'll show it to his friends -"Thank you, dear, we can repeat this if you want."

George:

-"You got the right twin? Because I am not sharing this position." -He's more mature about this than his twin, but he has it in his nature to make some not-in-place comments -He gives you control, you decide how he sits or holds his hands -He's intrigued by how you work, but stays silent, just looking at you -He hums quietly, gently moving his head, when you tell him to stop moving he winks at you with a smirk, but completes your order -He's moved when he sees your done work, he feels appreciated for him -"Thank you, it's beautiful."

Ginny:

-"That's nice of you." -She doesn't ask a lot of questions, just lets you do your work -She's happy to pose for you, it makes her feel seen -She smiles when you accidentally make a silly face but doesn't point it out -When you're finished she takes a while to admire your work -"It's amazing, thank you."

Luna:

-"I would love to, sitting can be fun too." -She's very calm, listens to your instructions, and is very patient -She asks you how you got to draw, or what inspires you to create, she's nice to have conversations with -She has her glasses on her nose, sitting with her knees to her chest -When you're finished she's very happy -"Oh, it's magnificent. I am so happy to keep it."

Neville:

-"Me? Are you sure?" -He's very self-conscious, and thinks you're doing it out of pity, but you assure him it's not like that -He's very nervous, he doesn't know what to do with his hands, you have to guide him a little bit -He thinks he looks bad at every angle, but you tell him that everything is perfect and that makes him feel a bit more confident -He is so grateful for this art piece, he keeps it close to him at all times -"Wow, that is so pretty, thank you Y/N."

Draco:

-"Why? For what?" -He doesn't feel comfortable with this and is suspicious you have bad intentions -But his pride wins over him and he lets you draw him -He sits proudly with a serious look on his face -He says nothing, just watches you, expecting your work will be not as high as his expectations -But he's shocked when he sees your done work -He keeps it in his room, away from others -"Well that's not as bad as I thought it will be."

Tom:

-"I can agree to that." -He sees this as an opportunity to capture his image for future -He wears his best suit, rings on his fingers, and in his hand a dark book -He sits with his head high, one leg on the other, leaning on the armchair -He doesn't talk but nods his head in approval when you stop drawing for a moment -He's very satisfied with the result and keeps the drawing well hidden -"That is good, thank you for your time."

[the99thfanboy]

Things we forget about in The Big Bang Theory:

(Updated whenever I feel like it because I use the show for background stimulation and randomly tune in)

Howard Wolowitz has gay thoughts towards George Takei (don’t we all)

Zazzles the cat and his clowder of Manhattan Project bros

Both Sheldon and Amy like cats

Will Wheaton is a playful little ass (I love him)

He led a mob chasing after Sheldon and the guys when they stole the Indiana Jones reels from the theater

Sheldon calls Will’s Wesley Crusher the Jar Jar Binks of the Star Trek universe

Howard and Raj have indeed kissed

Sheldon thinks Dick Grayson should be the one to take up the Batman mantle

Stuart thinks it should be Jason Todd

Sheldon, Raj, Howard, and Leonard slept naked together to keep their core body temperatures from plummeting during their North Pole study

Raj likes to think of it as a bonding moment

Penny went to see at least one of the Star Trek movies in theaters without the guys (they were on their North Pole study so she saw it on her own before they did)

Mary Cooper drinks Diet Pepsi but has a mild Dr Pepper addiction

Part of her prayers are for Leonard to get a girlfriend

Raj is scared of bugs

Leonard, Raj, and Howard once planned to ambush and loot a Boy Scout camp for food

When singing Soft Kitty Sheldon physically moves up and down with change in notes on the line “purr, purr, purr”

In Sheldon’s dream, Raj cuddled up to Howard after they all fell asleep on the couch. Meaning that Sheldon thinks Raj would really cuddle with Howard given the right circumstances

Sheldon has restraining orders against him for Stan Lee and Leonard Nimoy

Barry Kripke fences and is knowledgeable enough to instruct

Sheldon doesn’t care about money despite having a good amount of it saved. He lends it to Penny when she needs it and volunteers money for a college fund for Howard and Bernadette’s child

Sheldon has both a floor and wall safe for valuables

Sheldon is scared of dogs, including Goofy but excluding Pluto

Will Wheaton and Stuart play DND with William Shatner, Kevin Smith, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and Joe Manganiello

Leonard was invited to play when Stuart dropped out

After he’s kicked out for telling Penny, she, Amy, and Bernadette join

Sheldon's horse in Red Dead Redemption was hit by a train and he has to go through a grieving process before replacing him

His name was Chauncey

When Sheldon was fired he started going through hyperfixations. One of which was glow-in-the-dark fish which led to spin off ideas of glow-in-the-dark tampons and weaving clothes on a large loom

Sheldon built a death ray as a kid. According to his mother it barely slowed down the neighbor kids

Raj had dinner with and kissed a guy dressed in drag as an Orion slave from Star Trek

His name was Richard or Kimberly

Raj and Leonard agree that they are both Omegas

Leonard wears dresses or dress-like garments on several occasions and expresses that he likes how freeing and breezy they are (he also looks hella cute)