#i hope that this response is encouraging in some fashion!!
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your blog is making me reconsider going to school for botany again...
This ask has sat in my inbox for a little while because I genuinely was too blown away to be able to respond. I think of any ask or message I've received so far, this is the one that has really blown my socks clean off. I couldn't have guessed that my rambling about plants could incite the responses that I've gotten from y'all!! It's incredibly humbling and encouraging.
I don't know the reasons you left school/stopped studying botany, so I can't in good conscience unreservedly encourage you to go back—your wellbeing is worth more than a college degree. What I do feel comfortable* to say is this:
Right now, we need people who are passionate and knowledgeable about plants more than we possibly ever have. And we need them in everything—not just in science, but in city planning and waste management and maintenance crews and construction and office jobs and customer service. For fucks sake, I know a lawyer who did his undergrad in botany and that knowledge still shapes the way he moves through the world. More than anything, we need people who care about the place they are in, pay attention, and try to do what good they can in their day to day lives.
There are a lot of paths to knowledge. College is one of them, and has the advantage of providing access to resources, connections to experts, and letting you spend almost all of your time diving deeply into a subject. But it has some incredibly severe downsides—the demands placed on the time and energy of college students are, frankly, unsustainable and unreasonable and the economic burdens are beyond words.
You can also:
Check out your local library/Audubon center/park to see if they already offer (or ask them if they could offer!) any programming with local naturalists/scientists for plant walks.
See if you have any nonprofits in your area that have educational programs — there's an institute near me that offers courses in scientific illustration, bryophyte identification, natural history, and more!
Sign up for scientific conferences! You can also frequently volunteer and get in for free or reduced admission costs. I adore conferences. They provide some of the most concentrated nature nerd excitement ive ever experienced; there's nothing most scientists like more than getting to explain their research and talk about their study area to an interested and captive audience.
If you have a botanical garden or herbarium nearby, volunteering there or attending education programming!
+ more that I'm not able to conjure to mind right now. The point is, keep learning. I cannot stress enough how cool it is to know that there are people like you out there who care about the plant world and want to keep learning. And that learning doesn't have to be from college. It is convenient when your whole life is oriented to learning it as fast and as thoroughly as possible, because the structure is already built for you. But you can build your own structure, too. One of the reasons all of my suggestions are offline is because I can gaurantee that there are people in your area you can learn from. There's some guy who has spent the last 50 years paying attention to mosses or grass or asters. There's a woman who knows all of the fungi around and when and where it will appear each year.
Find the people who are local to you who are passionate and knowledgeable. Make friends with them and go on walks. Ask them questions. Go on Google scholar (and then scihub) and find papers on what they're telling you about. Ask them more questions.
* also, though, I dunno man. Take this response with a fuckin slab of salt. I am literally just some guy. I'm excited you're here and I hope you keep being curious. That's the main thing. Take or leave the rest of this as you will.
#this ask made my day#thank you for being here my friend#i hope that this response is encouraging in some fashion!!#raincoats answers
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Hi! I love your account. Sm. Like a lot. Would you be interested in writing something for lewis where he casually mentions in his gq interview that he has a longtime gf or wife. Or he recalls a memory of them introducing roscoe to her dog or cat?
Thank you so so much for the ask bestie! I drabbled something short, hope you like it ❤️.
PS: I'm still not over that interview btw, he's such a complex person and I'm so glad he's letting us see this side to him (a LVFH type of thing is something only someone like him could pull it off)
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Lewis Hamilton’s drive to continually innovate and push the boundaries of his sport stems from a dual motivation. Firstly, he is determined to challenge and break the often conservative and traditional norms of Formula 1. Secondly, he is laying the groundwork for the latter part of his own illustrious career.
“I went through this phase of understanding that I can’t race forever,” he says, prompting him to cultivate those other passions. “Because when I stop, I’m gonna drop the mic and be happy.” “The difficult thing is I want to do everything,” he says, laughing. “I’m very ambitious. But I understand that you can’t do—actually, I take that back because I don’t believe in the word can’t. To be a master at something, there’s the 10,000 hours it takes. Obviously, I’ve done that in racing. There’s not enough time to master all of these different things.”
As our conversation progresses, Hamilton discloses that he has a kindred spirit who shares his compulsion to explore a myriad of interests. “I’m fortunate to have someone in my life who encourages me to embrace my spontaneous ideas and give them a shot. She might even be more adventurous than I am,” he chuckles. “She’s a bit of a jack-of-all-trades, and always so sure that you can dive into anything and learn as you go.” His eyes light up with admiration and affection as he speaks of her daring spirit.
The usually private Hamilton, who has been discreet about his long-term relationship, contrasts their differing approaches to life. “I need some more time to think things and really plan out how I want them to go. But she’s a jump now, ask later, so she’s most times hyping me to just try it. We balance each other. Sometimes I’m the strategist, and sometimes she’s the one taking the first bite.”
As for his future plans, apart from his endeavors in fashion and film, Hamilton prefers not to rush into anything. “She still has dreams she wants to pursue, so for now, I’m happy to be her supportive sidekick whenever I can. Perhaps in the future, when we both have more time our own family might be on the horizon, but not while I’m still racing.”
He quickly corrects himself though, referring to his bulldog, Roscoe, as his son, and introduces the adorable dachshund who frequently graces Roscoe’s Instagram posts. “My partner’s parents gifted her the little sausage dog a few years ago. Introducing them was a bit tricky as Tete is quite territorial. She wasn’t fond of me at first either, so Roscoe has a head start in winning her over. But now, Baguette gets along with everyone, and we can’t imagine our lives without her.”
Eager for more personal insights, I probe for updates on his personal life. However, when his response to my inquiry is, “Time will tell, when things happen we’ll make sure to update everyone when it feels right” I gracefully pivot to our next topic of discussion.
#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#elladrabbles#lewis hamilton imagine#ella asks#f1 x reader#f1 imagine
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The butterfly effect🦋
Pairing : Chris Hemsworth x male reader
Summery : Elated and thrilled to be able to start off your career in the fashion world, your first assignment is to help create costumes for superheroes. But this elation brings a sudden change in your life's trajectory when a chance encounter with none other than the Hollywood sensation-slash-hunk Chris Hemsworth transpires.
Warnings/tags : Explicit, SMUT 18+, resolved sexual tension, oral sex, anal sex, age difference (you're in your early 20's and Chris in his actual age), size difference, biting, Choking, dirty talking, manhandling, strength kink, body worshipping, Mature themes.
Word count : 6.3k+
A/N : Serving you, my first Chris Hemsworth fic. Despite being so underrated, CH fandom will live. I mean....who doesn't love our good ol’ Hemsy, right? So, here it is- a hot and spicey Chris Hemsworth smutty fic. I profusely apologize for all my mistakes and errors . Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing it and hope you enjoy reading it as well. And fyi, I envisioned Chris single in this fic. But it doesn't matter so you can pretend otherwise. Other than that, it's a legitimately sexy time. Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed. Enjoy <33
Never in a million years would you have thought of getting an oppprtunity like this. For as long as you can remember, fashion has always been a subject of fascination to you. The puzzle of fabric, needle and thread intrigued you so much so that you decided, at a very young age, that you'd be persuing fashion as a career. Your parents held no grudges on your choice of profession. They encouraged you even.
So here you are today, after 4 years of continuous study with utmost diligence and dedication, bagging your first ever job as the wardrobe supervisor of costume department in a 250Million budget movie. Which, also apparently, happens to be a Marvel Studios movie. The next THOR movie. Hence, to your inner superhero geek, it's a cherry on top.
Your interview with the head Costume designer and other production managers was pretty jarring as they encountered you with several complicated aspects of being a wardrobe supervisor. But you proved your worth with practiced ease although feeling a bit self-conscious of having no prior experience. All in all, your wit and knowledge saved the day. And you could tell from the look on their faces that they were pleased with your talent at such young age. But, today comes your first day at work.
Your list of to-do's for Day #1 is surprisingly not as overloaded as you expected. It just consists of a meeting with the whole crew and the director. It goes considerably fine, save for the revelation part where they delegate you the responsibility of supervising Chris Hemsworsth's entire costume fitting process. Thus, you get extra pressure of work on your shoulder. Nevermind that you are not nearly ready to face any of the stars of the movie and it's surely getting on your nerves.
Having been already moved to Australia, the production of the movie is continuing on full swing. It's the 4th day that the crew finally decides to start work on the costumes of the lead characters. As the supervisor of Chris Hemsworth's costume preparation, you, inevitably, have to accompany the rest of the crew (which is funnily of 3 members) to his trailer.
On the way to your destination, you feel the dread of meeting someone like Chris Hemsworth slowly looming upon you. It's no surprise to you that being gay you've always been attracted to particular alpha male like him. Sure, you had a small crush on him like the vast majority of world population, maybe you still do, but it's absolutely pointless, Isn't it? There's no way in hell he's going to notice much less give his undivided attention to some random guy like you. And he's straight.
Mind occupied with these gratuitous thoughts, you don't notice when the group suddenly comes to a halt in front of a wooden door, nameplate shining with the letters C-H-R-I-S H-E-M-S-W-O-R-T-H. You feel sweat slowly pooling at your neck and collarbone. You pull out your handkerchief to dab at the places and hear one of the crew member saying, “Are you okay, Y/N?” You look up at her and try to give your most calm smile, “Yeah, I'm okay”. She nods and waits with the rest of the crews for the knocked door to open.
God! Why am I feeling so nervous? It's nothing. I'm just going for a purely professional meeting with Chris Hemsworth. Big, handsome, hunk of muscles Chris Hemsworth. Nothing else. It's not like I'm gonna rip his shirt off and and worship him on my knees and then bend over for him at the first opportunity. No. I'm fine and I got this.
Realizing how ridiculous you sound, you pull yourself out of your stupid inner rambling and straighten your posture. When the door opens, you take one last deep breath and follow your teammates into the suit. The trailer finely decorated —as a star's trailer should be— but right now you can't focus on anything else but the man in front of you.
Chris Hemsworth stands before all of you in his all broad muscular glory. From the state of his physical appearance you can guess that he has just finished working-out and didn't take a shower after. Maybe he didn't have the time. However, his short dark blonde hair is disheveled and sweat stains forming all over the tight tank top he's wearing. You can see the outline of his chiseled abs through his drenched shirt. Inhumanly broad chest and fine crafted pecs are heaving in time of his heavy breaths. “Good lord” you mumble breathily at the sight of his arms and biceps that are the size of your entire head. Angry veins popping up from all over his biceps to forearms and you just wonder for a moment, how it'd be like to trace them with your tongue.
You immediately shake yourself off before your mind leaps up to dangerous territory and look over at the head designer who's now having a quick chat with Chris Hemsworth. Then, suddenly he turns his head towards you and beckons you closer. You visibly startle but head over to them nonetheless. “And this is Mr. (Y/N) (S/N). He'll be overlooking your entire costume fitting process” Your cheeks immediately flushes at the mention of your name and you try to make out if this whole ‘making acquaintance’ part is necessary as there won't be any business other than professional.
But, when you look up at Hemsworth you see his blue eyes already resting upon you. So blue you sigh inwardly as he steps closer to you and offers a hand, “Hello, mate”. His voice is so deep and resonant that you feel yourself swooning just from that. Clearing your throat, you take his offered hand to shake it and get instantly captivated by how strong and callused they feel against your soft palm. “H-Hello” you somehow croak out, feeling your cheeks and ear burn to the root. But looking up at him, you, for the first time get transfixed by just how handsome he looks up-close. His Bearded chin and jaw, strong-thick neck, and perfectly curved nose signify his classic but exceptional Australian handsomeness.
His eyes are a whole different story, that are now gazing heavily at you. You can feel the heat behind those deep sea blue eyes as an imperceptive wave of emotion flashes over them. There's a sudden fluttering in your stomache and the sensation is so new that the hairs on your neck stand at alert on their own accord as if detecting a danger.
However, the unknown spell is immediately broken when someone from behind Chris clears their throat and beckons the group to start the meeting. As the chatting progresses you start taking notes from each side of their own opinions and giving your own. But every now and then, you catch Chris staring at you from the corner of your eye. But when you try to look back, he turns his head immediately as if he's caught doing something wrong. I must be seeing things you think as you keep your track with the meeting and wonder just why Chris Hemsworth would be giving you the occasional meaningful glances. That's just too stupid and absurd.
By the time the meeting ends, it's already been 1 hour. After calling it a day, your team start to slowly file out of the room. Not wanting to be the last one to leave, you jump up to your feet in a haste and follow the others out of the room. You covertly take a glance over your shoulder to see that Chris is now talking —more like listening— to the head designer. But then his gaze shifts and locks with you for a moment causing you to jump in surprise and turn around instantly. You hurriedly make your way out without managing to trip over.
✯———————✯
It's exactly 6:30 a.m. when Chris' alarm goes off. Groaning sleepily, he shuts off the alarm and sits up. After waking up his first thing to do is to check the day's schedule. Today's list only includes a lot of workout and some interviews then script discussion with Taika and other cast members. Throwing the sheets off of himself, he climbs out of the bed and quickly grabs his towel to take a shower. Turning on the spray, he proceeds to rinse and clean himself.
As he does so, he can't help but shift his mind off to yesterday's events. He'd been notified that the costume team would be on his trailer to discuss some things. Which turned out to be total useless as the team was talented enough to handle things on their own. But he appreciated their concern of his involvement all the same.
But there is one thing from yesterday's occuring that possessed all of his rational thinkings. Well, not a thing but a person. A very beautiful and lovely person at that. (Y/N) (S/N). Yes, that was his name. (Y/N).
The man —more like a boy, he looked pretty young— had a very gorgeous appearance. With his beautiful (s/c) complexion, wavy (h/c) hair, a set of wide (e/c) eyes that he found himself lost in the moment he gazed on them, petal like lips that he knows for a fact that they would feel as soft as they looked. He also had an aristocratic body type. Very slender but sinuous and quite short at height. The sage green cardigan of his attire accentuated his beauty all the more.
Chris is sure he felt quite captivated by the young man and the desire he felt was also quite strong. He didn't feel such attraction towards someone for a very long time and he longs to feel that body beneath him, to hear all the sound he can elicit from him, to feel his heat engulfing him whole.
Not wanting to get hard, Chris quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and shuts off the shower. Then quickly toweling himself off he wraps the towel around his hips and goes to his suit to get ready for the day.
As expected, the day turns out to be quite uneventful but the meeting with the stars was pretty fun. After excusing himself, Chris makes his way towards his room but stops down shortly when a familiar voice calls out from behind “Mr. Hemsworth!”. Turning around, he catches the sight of the object of his sudden obsession making his way towards him. The young man is looking more delectable today. A cream colored hoodie accompanied with jeans making his appearance just as lovely. He's also wearing rounded glasses today which makes him look rather endearing as they highlighted his doe-like eyes and made them appear even bigger.
You stop Infront of him with a clipboard in your hand, allowing him to take in the scent of your cologne —fresh, and mouth watering sweet. He feels desire pooling in his stomache just being near you again. Having remembered you called him out for some reason, he smiles kindly, “Yes?”. His smile broadens when he sees a high blush rising on your cheeks and going down your neck to disappear under the collar of your hoodie, fully aware of the affect he has on you. You clear your throat and look down on the clipboard, “umm...ahem.....I’m just....here to inform you that we'll be taking measurement of your...umm...body...for your costumes so the team will be in your room in about an hour”. The full time you spoke, your gaze were anywhere but on him.
On the other hand, Chris was mentally devouring you the entire time of your forced rambling and without thinking, he blurts out, “will you be there?” He could've kicked himself for asking you that but the dumbstruck look on your lovely scarlet face, lips parted, eyed widened makes it million times worth it. But he immediately straightens up to make the conversation look professional. You peer up at him from beneath your lashes— a sight Chris is committing to memory— and nod, whispering, “Yes, I'll be there. It's under my supervision”. “Cool. I'll see you there, mate” comes Chris's jovial reply and because he can't help it and he really wants to touch you somehow, he grasps the exposed skin of your neck, squeezing it a bit.
Hand lingering there for a moment, He hesitantly retracts it but the softness of your skin on his rough palm left him craving for more. Images of him trailing kisses down your neck and leaving marks on the smooth expanse flashes through his mind and before he loses his composure, he flashes a wide smile and abruptly turns on his heels before striding away.
You stand there, shaking, eyes wide like saucers. The unexpected touch having made your rational thinkings go hayware. Head spinning thousand miles per second from the feel of his solid grip on your neck. Goosebumps still fresh on your entire body as you feel pulse throbbing on the side of your neck where moments ago his veiny hand rested.
How it'd feel to have those hands roaming all over your smaller frame? Holding you down as he pounds you onto the mattress? He could easily fit both of his huge palms around your hips
You shiver at the thoughts and immediately snap out of your reverie. Still blushing like a lovestruck teenager, you make your way towards the costume department's office, the interaction still fresh on your mind. Chris Hemsworth smiling at you, touching you. The same fluttering sensation returns like a thousand butterflies roaming around your belly. You shake your head again,. He isn't into you, you moron! He's just being friendly. Yes, he's just being his usual cheery self. Stop thinking otherwise. And Chris Hemsworth isn't gay for god's sake!! You mentally chide yourself, slapping at the back of your head once and twice.
It isn't untill one hour passes that you prepare for the impending visit to Chris Hemsworth. Just when you're about to gather your team, one of them walks up to you with an apologetic expression and you immediately know this isn't going to end up to your liking. “Hey, uh, (M/N), sorry to bother you but the other guys will be busy for next some hours with you know, set props and stuff. So, you'll have to take the measurements of Mr. Hemsworth alone” He rushes to explain again when he sees the shocked look on your face, “It's nothing difficult, really. You know how it's done, right?” You take a moment to collect yourself and nod unsurely. “Great! Good luck” He pats you on the back and hurries away.
“Shit” comes the first thing from your mouth and you know that you're gloriously fucked. But you also know that despite your current predicament, this work has to be done as soon as possible otherwise the pressure will grow on everyone. So, after releasing a long defeated sigh, you grab your things and head out. On your way, you pray to whatever higher power is up there to shorten your time alone with Chris Hemsworth and save you from the ultimate embarrassment.
Chris has just finished doing some light push-ups and weight-lifting knowing that it'll help broadening his muscles to make his body susceptible to perfect measurement. Just as he is about to grab a towel and clean the slight sheen of persiperation off his body, there comes a knock to the door. Musing it'll be the costume team, he walks over to the door, shirtless, and pulls it open. There, fidgeting like a nervous teenager, stands (M/N). But when those alluring eyes fall upon him, they widen almost comically. Never being able to focus on one thing, they shift from his face to his chest, abs, arm and every inch of his naked skin. He can't help but smile smugly at that.
Chris then sees you gulping visibly before looking up, face flushed so prettily and for the first time Chris wonders if you are a virgin. “Hey mate, I was waiting for you, come on in.” He moves aside to let you in. Seeing it just you, he asks, “You, uh, alone?” You nod, obviously more than nervous.
After an awkward amount of moment passes, you pull out the measurement tape from your back pocket and look up at him expectantly, “Shall we begin?”. He smiles, adjusting the ball cap he's wearing, “Sure, let me just clean off the sweat. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable” You nod and set down the notpads on the near table. After some moments, Chris comes out of his bedroom looking slightly fresh but the evidence of his chore is still fresh on his bronzed skin.
Unrolling the tape, you move closer to him and a wave of musky scent of sweat and ozone mixed with faint spicy cologne hits your nostrils. The man radiates musculinity and of pure testosterone which is practically overwhelming your senses, making your knees buckle. Trying to calm yourself down, you proceed.
Placing the metallic tip of the tape on his right shoulder, you measure out the length of his arm and then doing the same to his left arm. Following the same procedure you measure out the length of his upper body. Jotting down the numbers after immediately everytime.
Then you move to meter the width of his neck and collar and by the close promiximity you can now feel his hot breath down the side of your neck. Can feel his eyes boring onto the same spot and the delicious heat wafting off of him. You quickly dislodge yourself and move around to measure the width of his muscular shoulders, impressive at that. His eyes trailing your every movement. Gulping nervously, you shuffle around untill you get the measurement of his biceps, forearms and chest, eyes widening from the sheer size of them.
When it is time to get the measurement of his waist and lower body, you begrudgingly have to get down on your knees which seems to be only convenient.
Chris silently observes you getting down on your knees. The sight already having made his blood rushing south, cock thickening inside his shorts. He can feel your breath coming in contact with his crotch even with the barrier of thin fabric when you circle the tape around his waist. He is having an absolute hard time stiffling his groans. Multitude of lewd, pornographic images flashes through his mind, each one dirtier than the other.
You can clearly see the tan line on Chris's skin from where you're crouching in front of him. His low hanging shorts doing nothing to hide the trail of hair disappearing under the waistband nor the obvious swell of of a prominant bulge. You swallow thickly realizing you're eye to eye with Chris Hemsworth's very clothed manhood and how easy it'd be to just tug the ridiculous pair of shorts down and choke yourself on his huge Australian cock.
Chris is also having a hard time restraining himself to just smash your pretty face onto his crotch, fingers twitching from the effort. But when you look up at him suddenly with your wide (e/c) eyes and parted lips, he loses all the battles against his lust.
He picks you up in a flash. Ignoring your yelp of surprise, he smashes your lips together. The force of his kiss almost knocks you off balance. But you pull yourself together from the utter shock and wrap your arms around his neck. He wraps his huge arms around your waist and tugs yourself close even though there is not an ounce of space left between you, chests flush together. You try to kiss back as much as possible but you feel already delirious, mind hazy.
He eagerly sucks on your bottom lip. You moan in pleasure, making him groan and deepen the kiss. Soon his thick tongue seeks entrance to your mouth which you are very happy to comply. He licks the inside of your mouth, groaning from the taste. Tongues enterwining, you both lose yourself in the act. He bites your bottom lip and you whimper in response. His tongue is warm and heavy in your mouth, so as his body against yours.
He soon breaks the kiss and reluctantly pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting your lips. Both of your breath became heavier by now and he looks at you so intensely that you, feeling somewhat scrutinized, look down with your hands still clutching both of his meaty shoulders. Curling a finger under your chin, he tilts your head up and you notice for the first time, that his eyes are completely blown away, the blues of his orbs are blackened by what can be called as raw hunger. You can't help the shiver that wracks down your spine.
Wordlessly, he slowly backs you up against the nearest wall and once more kisses you so passionately as if trying to devour you. Involuntary tears gather at the corner of your eyes from the light suffocation. If it wasn't for him, you never would've known that kisses can be this much pleasurable to bring you to hardness in an instant.
Chris absolutely loves the taste of your mouth as he licks around every cravice. Your heavenly moans and whimpers going straight to his already engorged cock as it's leaking a steady stream of precome inside his boxers. He wants to hear you more, the sounds he can emit from your sinful lips as he makes you his. With this single thought in his minds, he pecks you on the lips one last time and slowly descends down the long column of your neck.
He takes a whiff from the juncture of your neck and shoulder before pressing his tongue flat on the skin. “You smell so good” he purrs in a husky tone and starts to suckle on your neck, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your skin. You bite the back of your hand to stop yourself from making any more embarrassing noises. But he's just making it so hard from his slow ministrations.
Feeling restless and too worked up, you slowly start to roam your palms around his strong back. Both your hands don't even come together from the wideness of his upper back. As he feasts upon your neck, you rake your nails on his sweaty scalp, making him groan into your skin. So far, you are completely ignorant about how things escalated since you step into his trailer. You just simply can't bring yourself to care.
Chris tugs at the hem of your hoodie, a silent indication for you to remove it. You comply without any question and as soon as it comes off, his touches become more bolder. Pressing both of your naked chests together, he kisses and nips at your collarbone, lavs at the dip of your clavicle all the while letting his teeth graze at the soft skin. He follows the same movement on your throat and jaw before taking your earlobe between his teeth and gently bites down. You whine at the sensation as he kisses behind your ear and issues one demand, “I want you”.
That's the moment you know you are utterly and entirely his to do anything with and you don't even try to hold back the Yes that leaves your mouth in a whine.
At your permission, he settles both of his large hands on your hips and marvles at how they engulf the entirety of your narrow waist. Still kissing, he sneaks his hands down your waist to rest them on your ass before squeezing both cheeks roughly that has you moaning in his mouth.
At some point, Chris aligns both your hips together and thrusts forward and your eyes immediately roll back from the hard press of his large bulge against your own erection. Yes, he is going to split you open and you will absolutely let him.
But first, you need to worship the Greek god in front of you. Trace each dip and swell of his muscles with your tongue, have that heavy cock down your throat and then let him wreck you however he wants.
Mind made up, you try and push him away to make enough room. He looks at you with a puzzled expression and then slowly realization dawns on him, perhaps your needy expression gave you away. But you can only care less as he grins and let his hands fall at his sides.
Having enough space, you move forward to press a shy kiss on top of his left pec. The muscle feeling hard on your lips as a low groan leaves from the person above you. Pleased with his reaction, you grow more confident with your touches and shower open mouthed kisses along every inch of his tanned skin, tongue darting out to chase the salty taste of his sweat leaving a wet trail of saliva in it's wake.
While your mouth is busy worshipping his glorious abs, your hands roam on his strong biceps and equally dense triceps. You can hear him panting lightly as his hands gently pushing down on your shoulders to get you on your knees.
Your knees gently hits the soft carpet and you look up at him wide wide eyes, flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Chris curses at the sight of you and combs his rough, thick fingers through your soft locks and buries your face in his crotch. You grip at his strong thighs for support and inhale his strong musky scent, making you moan and leak inside your boxers.
He's so hard and the press of his hard, long and thick cock against your cheek feels every bit the exciting and terrifying. You can feel the heat of his members even through the fabric of his shorts as you mouth at his covered shaft hungrily.
“Fuck baby, c'mon. Pull it out. I wanna feel your pretty lips wrapped around me”, rasps the man in his deep Australian accent, making you bite your lip from moaning out loud.
You scramble to obey him and tug his already unlaced shorts down to his thighs. And immediately, his engorged erection springs free and slaps you across the cheek. Your eyes widen at the sight in front of you as you take in the size of Chris Hemsworth's beast of a cock.
It's long and as thick as your wrist, the tip is swollen and an angry shade of red with precum beading at the slit, veins running around the shaft and a thick vein at the underside, a nice thatch of dark blonde pubic hair at the base. So big. You drool at the thought of having it in your mouth and look down to spot his heavy looking balls that are not surprisingly also large, hanging between his thighs. They look so full, I wonder how much cum they can produce. You think in awe.
In no time, Chris grips your soft (h/c) locks and tugs you forward. You comply happily and wrap your lips around the thick spongey head. Throwing his head back, Chris groans at the feel of your soft lips on his sensitive glans. So hot and wet.
Pleased with his response, you press your tongue flat on the slit and lick up all the salty-sweet precum constantly dripping from his cock. The taste is strongly exquisite and you double down your effort to taste it more. Swirling your tongue expertly around the head, you try to take him deeper all the while gripping his strong thighs for support.
Chris watches is amazement as you continue to deep-throat him. Occasional low grunts leaving his lips as you bob your head up and down on his thick shaft. Spit and drool covering your chin as you gag and choke on his length. Chris swears at your relentless pace on sucking his cock. Even if you can't take him all the way down to your throat, you compensate with wrapping both hands around the missed portion. Jerking in time of your head movement.
You can feel Chris' thighs shaking as he presses one palm on the wall behind you and you realize that he is close. Moaning loudly around his cock, you continue faster than before and with both hands on his hips, you urge him to fuck your face. Chris immediately starts thrusting inside your warm mouth, a litany of curses falling from his lips.
You choke everytime the tip bumps the back of your throat but you don't give him any sign to stop. Drool making his cock shiny and slick as it travels down the base of his cock onto his heavy hanging balls. Wet slurping and gagging noises fill the room along with Chris Hemsworth's groans of pleasure.
“Fuck baby, I'm close. You want my cum?” Chris groans out between heavy pants as he looks down to see you looking pleadingly up at him.
“Mmm” is all you can say with your mouth full of his incredible cock but it's all he needed to hear before urgently thrusting a couple of more times and finally you can feel the warm rush of Chris Hemsworth's cum on your tongue. The taste of his sweet and salty seed in your mouth coaxing you to moan in delight as you swallow every single drop.
After he stops coming, you pull out his cock from your mouth with an audible pop and lick the remnants off of it. Looking up at him through your lashes as you press your tongue on the slit and wrapping your lips around it to give it a fierce suck to draw out any left behind, already hungry for more.
Chris watches with lidded eyes as his lustful gaze travels all over your body, blown wide pupils zeroing on your face. Cheeks flushed, eyes puffy and glistening, lips parted around his already hardening cock, chin covered in drool and cum, hair in a tangled mess. You're the perfect picture of debauchery and he can't waste anymore time.
With a hungry growl, he picks you up from the floor. Strong hands gripping the underside of your thighs to hoist you up in his arms. Taking the cue, you throw your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom, lips on every inch of your neck, his coarse beard a delicious friction on your soft skin.
Once reaching the pristinely decorated room, Chris deposites you on the bed, promptly climbing on top of you and claiming your lips once more in a heated kiss. It doesn't take long for him to slide his lips and tongue down your jaw to hungrily mouth on your neck. You can't keep the whimpers of pleasure that leave you parted lips which seems to encourage him to continue with his ministrations.
One hand fisting on the sheets and other entangled in Chris' dirty blonde hair, you arch upward with a high pitched moan as he latches his lips onto one of your nipple. Biting and rolling the hardened nub between his teeth before gently tugging and blowing on it has you writhing in his hold.
“P-please”
“Please what, baby?” Chris growls around your other nipple. You shake your head, tears of sweet torture skipping down the side of your face.
Raising up on his forearms Chris grabs ahold of your face and leans down to whisper hotly, “I want you to say it”
“P-please t-touch me” cheeks aflame, you breath out. Chris smirks but complies. Sneaking his hands past your stomach to unbutton your jeans, tugging them down along with your boxers. His hand immediately wraps around your aching flesh, completely engulfed in his big, sturdy hand. Your eyes flutters shut as a long moan escapes your throat, Chris immediately swallowing it down by pressing his mouth to yours.
With his sure hand stroking up and down your cock, you find yourself running your hands all over his sun kissed muscular body. You can't get enough of off him. The way he dominates you, makes you feel good and the way he overwhelms you with his equally overwhelming figure is something you're sure you'll never find anywhere else again. He completely ruined you—ruining you—for any other man.
It takes a while for you to register that his other hand that wasn't occupied are now busy between you parted thighs. One thick finger prodding at your entrance, making you jolt up in surprise. “L-lube” you choke out, knowing that his big digits won't be comfortable for a dry intrusion and you want this as painless as possible. But the thought appears unconvincing as you watch Chris nod with a smile and gets up to retrieve lube from drawer, his big cock bobbing and swaying with his movements.
Chris returns with a small container of lube in his hand, squirting a generous amount on his digits before coating them nicely and dropping the container on the sheets.
“Relax. Let me loosen you up, hmm?” Chris says with his deep voice that immediately soothes you, allowing you to take a deep breath as the first finger approaches you. Chris rhythmically thrusts his index finger inside you and the initial discomfort fades away as you listen to him saying, “You're doing so good baby. Such a good boy, getting ready for my cock”
Hearing Chris saying those things to you doubles your pleasure but it compare to when his finger hit that sweet spot inside you that makes your toes curl and back arch, silent scream erupting from your throat, eyes wide from the sheer intensity of it.
Chris has a triumphant expression on his face as he thrusts on that spot repeatedly. And before you know, three of Chris' fingers are inside your ass, loosening your walls. Chris watched you as a string of pleas fall from your lips and he knows that you're close.
Suddenly, Chris pulls out his fingers, making you whine at the loss and the emptiness. Chris chuckles, “Don't worry baby. I'll fill you up with something much better”.
With that, you watch as he drops a generous amount of lube in his palm and coats his large flesh with the substance. Chris shuffles closer, pressing the tip to your entrance as he looks at you for permission. You nod without hesitation, aching to be filled with his monstrous cock.
As the fat head of his cock pushes past the ring of your muscle, you already find yourself breathless. Winding your arms around his neck, you encourage him to go on. And he does. Chris pushes the entirety of his large manhood inside you tight channel with one long thrust. “Fuck” Chris grunts from how tightly your walls are gripping his cock “You're so fucking tight”
Meanwhile, an actual scream erupts from your throat as you feel him reaching so deep inside of you, at the same time stretching you so wide. The pain and pleasure making your senses go haywire as a sob rips from your core.
“You're so- so big”
Chris can't response. Not when he feels this good. He can already feel the tingling in his balls, already churning and filling up with cum. He can no longer hold back. He needs to move. To pound into your tight- sweet ass till both of you can't remember your names.
“Fuck, baby. I need to move. Can I move?” Chris grits out, muscles straining from the effort of holding back.
Overwhelmed yourself, you lock your ankles behind his back and can only nod. But thankfully Chris notices as a sigh of relief leaves his lips. It soon changes into a look of determination as he pulls back till only the tip is inside before slamming back in with full force.
It jolts you from you position but soon after Chris' hand grabs your hips in a tight grip and his powerful hips starts thrusting without inhibition. It's like a dam has been broken the way Chris delivers each of his thrusts. Both of you are a moaning and groaning mess.
Chris hits every right spot inside you that makes you toe curl. You watch transfixed as his powerful body collides with your much smaller and petite one. Every single muscle in his body looks on overdrive with each snap of his hips. Sweat sprouting on his forehead, some of it gathering between the slope of his pecs making it glisten in daylight. Every fibre of muscle in his biceps bulging with how tightly he's grabbing your hips, sure to leave marks in it's wake. His abs also glistening from sweat, tightening with tension as a few drops gathering on his dark blonde pubes. In this moment of passion, you realize you have never seen a man so handsome, masculine and equally beautiful in you life. And said man is now giving you the wildest ride of your life.
“You feel so good, baby. So fucking good”
Your response in only a choked moan. But you somehow manage to let out, “Harder, Chris. Please, harder”
“Yeah? You want me to go hard, baby?”
Again, you can only nod. But Chris grants you wishes. With one swift movement, he flips you onto your stomach. Roughly pulling your ass up and smashing your face onto the pillow, he slides back in. Every inch of his glorious cock and starts to pound harder than ever.
You bite onto the pillow to muffle your sounds but Chris leans down and grabs you chin, murmuring in you ear, “Don't cover your sounds. I want to hear them. I want to hear you scream my name baby”
With that, he pulls his cock back slowly, letting you feel the delicious drag of cock inside of you before snapping back in and immediately hitting your prostate. Your eyes snap open as he makes you scream as promised, “Nnghh!!!Chris!!!”
After that, Chris doesn't relent. He jabs at your prostate with his cock mercilessly. His heavy balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts from behind and you push your ass back in time of his thrusts to meet him halfway. Yes yes please please Chris words fall from your lips like mantra.
“Yeah? You like that? You like my big cock inside your sweet ass?”
“Yes yes” you nod your head frantically
“Tell me how much you like my big fat cock”
“So much. Please”
“Yeah? And what do you want?”
“I want— oh yes —I want your cum”
“Fuck”
Chris again flips you onto your back. Pushing back in and setting up his rhythmic thrusts, he leans down and starts sucking bruises on your neck and shoulder. By the time both of your breath becomes heavier and pants starts to grow louder, you can't hold back anymore. Without even touching, your cock is ready to explode.
“C-Chris, I'm coming”
“Shit, baby. Me too. Cum with me”
And with one last precise thrust that hits you right in your sweet spot you're coming all over yourself. Cum landing on your stomach and pooling on your lower belly.
At the same time, Chris lets out a low growl and comes inside you in long spurts. You can feels his hot seed coating your inner walls, painting them white. There's so much of it that it starts to leak around his cock, still deep inside you. Your cock gives a weak little twitch from the sensation and then Chris collapses right on top of you. Your lithe body squished beneath his sweaty bulky one.
“That was fucking amazing” Chris breathes out, face buried in your neck.
“Yes. I loved it” you giggle, looping your arms around his shoulders and stroking his sweat drenched hair.
Chris looks up at you and grins. Dorky and satisfied. “Shower?”
You nod shyly. Chris tugs you up by the wrist and guides you towards the end suite bathroom.
On the way there Chris slaps one of your ass cheeks and smirks suggestively down at you. “Next time, I'm eating this out before doing anything else”
You feel your cheeks boil as he laughs his famous booming laughter. But neither you can contain the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.
Next time
A/N (2) : phew! At last. I'm sorry guys this fic is too much lengthy. I always feel the need to explain every single situation in my fics also very prolonged and detailed smut. And honestly it's so much tiring and mentally strenuous as fuck. So I swore to myself that I'm going to keep my thought process at minimum from now on. On second note, I don't know shit about a movie's costume making process, i just made the whole thing up. Guilty. Again, I'm sorry if the story longivity bothers you guys, I'm trying my best. See y'all soon with another of my groundbreaking fic Lol ;P
#chris hemsworth#chris hemsworth x reader#chris hemsworth x male reader#chris hemsworth x m!reader#chris hemsworth imagine#chris hemswoth fic#chris hemsworth smut#x male reader#male reader insert#smut#gay fiction#regalevansworthfic
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idk how to verbalise this idea properly so bear with me but: mc whose entire logic in life is 'fuck it we ball' including when it comes to romance, so they just completely go along with any attempts at flirting in a sort of "yes, and-" fashion
which probably only encourages said suitor and then mc has the Audacity to be surprised when it gets intense enough for them to realise they're actually being seduced lol
gn mc with just the brothers for now pls!! thank u for your services
Hopefully this request is what you were looking for. Honestly, I had a bit of confusion while writing, but I tried. I went with headcanons because that seemed like the best fit. Thanks for the request.
gn!MC who casually flirts back with the demon brothers headcanons
(and then has the audacity to be surprised that they're being genuinely pursued)
(Suggestive)
Word Count: +2700
Lucifer
Lucifer is an awful flirt, trying so hard to fluster MC and convince them of his dominance. (Where’s it at though? I don’t see it.) His flirting is so suggestive that it’s actually pretty easy to just assume it’s a bit of playful teasing between friends.
For MC, it plays out like those posts that say something and then escalate immediately – something like “Kiss your homies goodnight. Kiss them with tongue. Eat their ass.”
Having an MC who flirts back with him can be a bit embarrassing, and it gets Lucifer’s hopes up so much. (“Could you pour me another cup of coffee, MC?” “Third one this morning, Luci. Not sleeping well?” “I’m afraid not. Perhaps you should come over and help – but then again, we might not get much sleep if you do.” “Aw, Luci, do you want me to fuck you senseless to help you fall asleep?” “If you’re offering, who am I to refuse.”)
He’ll be frustrated that MC keeps flirting with him, but they never follow through.
Lucifer is so horny that it’s absurd. MC could be completely normal, and this man would be thirsting. (“I really don’t want to do this lesson. This chapter is so boring.” “Normally, I wouldn’t use positive reinforcement, but if you complete your work, I’ll reward you.” “What kind of reward?” “Come to my room tonight and find out.”)
Poor MC doesn’t realize they’re being seduced until Lucifer has dragged them into his bed.
“Sleep with me.” “I’m not really tired, Lucifer.” “Good. Then you’ll have plenty of energy to make out and maybe even fuck me – if you want.” His touch would be so intimate – rubbing their inner thigh or groping their ass. “IF I WHAT?!?”
Lucifer would turn pink up to his ears. Part of him thinks MC is just teasing him again, but he would quickly realize that they’re being genuine. He’d feel absolutely humiliated. Did they not want him at all? Did all of that flirting mean nothing?
Before he could die from the shame, Lucifer would manage to blurt out, “Do you want me or not?” He wants some honest commitment in return for his affection, and if MC won’t bring that, that’s unacceptable. Of course, there is some thrill in a chase, but in that moment, Lucifer won’t have it in him. It would be a battle to fight some other day.
If MC tells him no or gives a half-hearted response, he will ask them to leave his room with one hand covering his blushing face. He wouldn’t even be able to look at them as he closed the door – and he’d probably avoid them for a day or two. (Also, he might cry a little after the door is locked).
If MC insists that they do want him, he’ll be especially needy while also acting all sadistic – attempting to tease them to distract from his own embarrassment. This poor loser will require so many kisses to reinflate his ego.
Mammon
To be fair, Mammon would bring this upon himself. He loves to act like he’s uninterested – constantly interrupting his fawning and puppy-like following of MC to save himself from the absolute humiliation of being *gasp* honest about his feelings.
I can see Mammon regularly initiating flirting, but this man can’t follow through to save his own life (maybe to save the life of someone else, though). An MC who reciprocates his flirting would leave him a blushing, flustered mess. Most of the time, his embarrassment cuts the interaction short.
“Ya just can’t get enough of the Great Mammon, can ya?” “Of course not, you handsome devil~” “I- uh! Hmph! Damn right!” he’d say it, crossing his arms and avoiding eye contact while the blush rises in his cheeks. How is MC supposed to respond?
If they tease him further and flirt more, he’ll just yell and tell them to knock it off. If they just shrug it off and move on, Mammon will be too flustered to make another move on them that day. The flirtatious spark just kind of fizzles out like a defective firecracker.
It takes a lot of boldness on Mammon’s end to get MC to realize he’s being serious. And honestly, Mammon is so adorable, MC may have the opportunity to take the initiative and push things a little further first. (You want to tell me most MCs could just flirt with Mammon, reducing him to a blushing, aggressive mess, and go back to watching that movie or playing that video game upon Mammon’s belligerent demand, and not want to kiss his face? Okay, sure.)
But let’s ignore that thought and say MC follows Mammon’s flirting in the “yes, and” fashion. After Mammon continuously sabotages his own chances, eventually, he’s going to get so frustrated that he will smother his own shyness long enough to get what he wants.
He’ll get MC alone and string together some make-shift confession – a plea for more. “Ya know, if ya wanna kiss the Great Mammon or somethin’, I’m not gonna stop ya – like, I mean, I want a little more outta ya. So, don’t hold back just cause ya think I don’t want to or nothin’.” (translation: Please kiss me. I know I act like I don’t want you, but I really, really want you to kiss me. Please, please, please.)
His face will burn, and a blush will work its way up to his ears. It’ll be hard to deny the intensity of his feelings, and it will weigh down on MC – a truth previously held in a bag on their back, tethered to dozens of helium balloons that disguised its weight, and then suddenly found every string cut loose by Mammon’s admission. He really loved them. For his confession, all Mammon would get was a stunned but heartfelt “oh.”
He gets so upset and embarrassed that MC didn’t realize he was being serious before. He went on a rollercoaster of emotions; meanwhile, this whole time, they hadn’t even taken his advances in earnest. It’s practically offensive.
The only remedy for Mammon’s bruised dignity is for MC to immediately hold and kiss him until he’s temporarily satisfied. (“Ya owe me big time for not takin’ me seriously.”)
Leviathan
I mean, he kind of has to flirt before MC can flirt back – unless we’re going to count accidentally blurting out his innermost perverted desires as flirting. Sure, I suppose it’s basically flirting to tell someone “It’s sexy when you tell me what to do. I can’t stop imagining you doing that in other settings.”
He’s so bad at flirting that nothing will happen for a long time after he realizes he’s head over heels. Levi is fine spending the rest of his (or at least MC’s) life pining for them – or at least he believes that. But the longing and desire will start to creep in, and he’ll wonder how much he can ask from MC. Friends can hold hands and maybe even cuddle, right? Maybe even kiss? Could they even –?
The thoughts eat away at him until he can’t wait for MC to make the move anymore. It slips out of him like some mating request written by Dr. Suess: “Would you –? Could you –? With an otaku? A gross, disgusting one, too?”
Levi is so visibly flustered that he doesn’t leave much room for ignorance. Even the most extreme masochist wouldn’t subject themselves to the furiously blushing, trembling state that Leviathan had worked himself into. He’d be on the brink of tears. All his hope in the world would be precariously perched on a ledge, awaiting your response.
I can’t see MC not knowing that Levi was attempting to seduce them, but perhaps the timing of it came as a surprise. Or perhaps they had never taken his affection seriously. He has so many favorites that he can’t pursue; just because he has a massive crush on MC doesn’t mean he had plans to act on it.
He will get even more embarrassed and down on himself to know that MC didn’t take him seriously at first. He understands, but that doesn’t make it any less hurtful.
He will require physical reassurance – as much of it as MC is willing to give him. And honestly, if MC doesn’t end up kissing him until he forgets how to think after his confession, he’ll probably hide in his room for a few weeks purely out of shame.
Satan
With an MC like this, the back-and-forth flirting goes on for an inordinate amount of time. Satan is not a flirt by any definition, but when there’s someone he likes, he knows how to turn on the charm. He’s smart, passionate, and mentally quick on his feet; he’s a natural charmer for the right audience.
Satan moves pretty slow when romance is concerned. If Levi wasn’t such a hopeless cause (affectionately), Satan would probably be the slowest to escalate a romantic relationship. He and MC will have a dozen dates under their belts before the desire for more had become an unbearable burden for Satan to silently ignore.
Eventually, Satan would find himself reading in his room with MC, unable to hold back anymore. He would ask, “Would you mind if I kissed you?” “No, I don’t mind if you want to.” “Could I kiss you now?” “Eh, sure.”
Everything up to that point could have been misread as platonic or some casual interest – maybe even curiosity on his end.
But he was serious, and it was evident in the way he approached MC to collect that kiss. He would straddle their hips, set their book aside (face down to mark the page like a real gentleman), and lean down for the kiss. Then, his lips would move against theirs, and the smallest sigh would escape him like a quiet release of sexual tension that had pressurized his entire body. Then, it would all click for MC.
Surprisingly, he wouldn’t be upset or humiliated if MC hadn’t taken him seriously before. In fact, he sees it as more of a personal failing, and in a low, seductive voice, he would tell them, “Allow me to prove how genuine and deep my feelings are for you.”
Asmodeus
He flirts with everyone, so how was MC supposed to know??
He asks them on dates so often. He’s probably the only one who could make out with MC and they’d still think, “yeah, we’re besties” because when Asmo pulls away with a giggle and a grin, telling them how much fun that was, it doesn’t feel serious.
It would take a moment of angst – either Asmo feeling like MC doesn’t take his advances seriously enough (and they don’t) or MC getting down on themselves – for them to realize.
Asmo would pull them into his room and leave small kisses all over them, peppering in compliments. “You’re so gorgeous, and I adore looking at your face.” Then, he would kiss their cheek. “You’re such a sweetheart.” Then, the other cheek. “I always have so much fun when I’m with you. I don’t ever want you to leave my side.” He would kiss their forehead. “I want you to feel confident; you’re such a wonderful soul.” (He would probably add more compliments if MC was feeling self-conscious.)
His words would get sweeter and more honest. “I feel seen in your eyes – like every part of me is accepted. I don’t have to play it up or try.” He would work his way down their neck with soft pecks to their skin. “I want to share everything beautiful in this world with you.” In part to avoid meeting their gaze. “I want to make you smile with everything I have.” And in part so he could whisper the words into their ear. “I want to help you whenever you need me. I’ll sit right next to you through any pain and hardships you encounter.” No one else had earned the right to hear his praise and affection. “I want to be a comfort for you – someone you can return to like a home.”
Finally, he would face them with a striking affection. “You know I’m in love with you, right? It’s not just lust and fun. You’re everything. You matter the most – after me, of course. It’s me and you and everything else.”
Asmo seduces everyone. That isn’t shocking. But this was more than seduction. It was genuine courtship. He won’t fault MC for being surprised. It caught him off guard too.
Beelzebub
Beel is not super flirty, but he makes it known that he cares through his actions. So, there aren’t many opportunities for MC to “yes, and” flirt back with him.
He asks them out to get food often and brings them snacks, but that doesn’t signal any romantic intentions. Sometimes he might stare at MC affectionately or admit how happy he is to spend time with them, but it’s nowhere near intense.
Sometimes, he asks for something more selfish. It starts small: petting his head, holding his hand, hugging him. None of those register as seduction from Beel for MC, especially compared to the affectionate nature of his twin. In fact, no one would fault MC for thinking these were platonic wants. After all, Beel has been through a lot. Sometimes this sweet, big baby boy just needs physical affection.
Then, he would get a bit bolder with his requests: “Could you feed me?” “Can I feed you?” “Would you hold me?”
As innocent and platonic as Beel may seem, he makes a lot of off-hand remarks that sound a bit perverted. “I bet MC’s lips would taste good.” “I wonder what you taste like.” “MC has nice hands. I bet they would feel good…” These comments could open the door for some flirting from MC, though. “Wanna taste me, Beel?” “Should I give you a massage? Or maybe something more?”
MC flirting with him would make his heart race. Even if MC didn’t follow through with their flirtatious offer, it would encourage Beel to keep pushing his luck.
Finally, he would ask, “Can I kiss you?”
Beel would look so shy and embarrassed, holding his hands awkwardly to his chest, that it would be hard not to take him seriously. The question – and his desire – would be a slight shock. Beel wouldn’t mind that MC was surprised, although he would be disappointed if he was turned down.
If MC takes him up on that offer, they will come to realize that his ravenous hunger showed itself through a kiss, too – as if he had been starving for MC’s touch and affection.
Belphegor
He’s so affectionate and cuddly. In that way, he’s similar to Asmo; it’s pretty hard to tell how serious and intense Belphie’s feelings are. He’s just kind of like that.
It’s common for Belphie to ask to be spoiled with affection – head pats, feeding him, hugging him, sleeping together, going out with him, praising him, holding his hand, being his pillow, etc.
His need for attention doesn’t cover up for how flushed his face gets when MC is the one to give him affection. His neediness doesn’t explain how much he clings to MC or how he blushes and tells them not to stop touching him.
So, actually, he’s less flirty than he is demanding of attention. Going along with his demands only encourages him to vocalize and act on more of his desires. He’d even ask permission to kiss them and to be kissed.
MC probably wouldn’t figure it out until Belphie starts sleepily trying to make out with them.
“Belphie, are you half-asleep?” “What? No. I’m awake. Why?” “That was a really heated kiss.” “Of course it was. Can we keep going?” “I’m sorry, what?”
“Don’t you like me back? We sleep together, go on dates, cuddle, and you even let me kiss your face and neck whenever I please. Don’t you want to go further?”
It hits them. Belphie can read the look of surprise on MC’s face, and it makes him pout. MC really should have known how he felt by then, but he’s confident that his affection is reciprocated before MC even responds.
“Sheesh. You’re really difficult, you know? I’ve had to do a lot of the work here because you’re so dense.” Belphie would straddle MC’s lap and take off his shirt. “I’ll let it go this time, but you better start putting in more effort from now on.”
A/N: Only about 1 hour left to vote in the poll. And we just got to 100 so y'all are getting 2 posts this month. Genuinely, I typed this a/n up, talking about only needing one more vote, checked it again, and the one vote is no longer needed. Good job, y'all. I swear if there are ties...
#requests#anon#lucifer#mammon#leviathan#satan#asmodeus#beelzebub#belphegor#gn!mc#obey me demon brothers#obey me headcanons#obey me#ask#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor
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Playing pretend
Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x f!Reader
Summary: a simple mission turns out to be quite a challenge when you find out that you're partnered with Jack Daniels. oh, and that you have to pretend to be in love with each other. easy? not at all.
Tags: fake dating lets gooo!! idiots in love, fluff, some steamier scenes later on, reader is a tease and Jack is a disaster. equals mutual dumbassery
Warnings: jealousy, not smut but some steam for sure, a few ridiculous southern sayings i had way too much fun coming up with
Word count: 5.5K
A/N: i don't really know why i chose jack for this prompt but i think it fits nicely. @pedrostories i know i'm late but i wanted to do this for you ❤️ congrats again!! and for all the other lovely people who stick around, i hope you like this and happy reading!! 💕 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated and i love you all so much for the constant support 💗
This was supposed to be a delicate type of operation, which is why you were the first choice for the mission. It wasn’t a dig of any kind – everyone just knew you were good at handling tense situations and skilled at staying out of sight, not to mention your gift for making people trust you easily. Everything that was needed for this particular task.
Who wasn’t good at blending in, however, was Agent Whiskey. Which is why you were more than a little surprised when it turned out he’ll be your partner for the mission.
“I know he’s not exactly a subtle sort,” said Champ when you brought it up. “But we do need to get the target’s attention and… well, we can count on him when it comes to that. Besides, who knows,” he sent you a half-smile, though he seemed unsure of his own words, somehow, “maybe you two will balance yourself out. Maybe it’ll be good for you.”
So that’s how it happened. That’s how you got stuck with Jack Daniels.
It wasn’t that you disliked Jack. He was a handful, yes, an arrogant asshole and a show-off, but he also could make you laugh. He was very skilled at fighting and you knew you could count on him if things went south. And, though you would never admit it, he wasn’t the worst to look at.
The main problem was the combination of his stupid cockiness on this particular mission.
Because you had to pretend to be in love.
“C’mon, sunshine, it won’t be that bad.”
“Maybe for your dumb ass,” you murmured in response while walking to the table, squeezing Jack’s arm tightly and subtly looking around the hall. “I swear, Whiskey, if you try something…”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The man you were supposed to pretend to be dating leaned in, and your whole body tensed. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman, sweet pea.”
“I doubt it.”
“...For the remainder of the mission.”
“There you go.”
In his usual ‘Jack Daniels’ fashion, he started pushing your buttons to the extreme even before your jet plane landed, and you had to close your eyes and count from ten to zero several times already, ordering yourself to calm down. Sometimes, you had to admit, his confidence and cheekiness were quite endearing, making you think about that frustratingly beautiful face of his late at night, but this time he was treading on very thin ice and you didn’t feel like being understanding.
You used to pride yourself in knowing exactly how to handle him. Jack was the biggest tease and a diva, and as long as you balanced the thin line between not encouraging his antics and giving him just enough attention, he became as gentle as a lamb in your presence. But this… this stupid, stupid mission…
“Would you like a cupcake, my lovely tater tot?” Whiskey’s voice jolted you out of your thoughts, and you had to stop the grimace on your face at the over-the-top nickname and his smug smirk. Instead, you just smiled sweetly.
“Only if you have some, my little meatball,” you answered through gritted teeth, but his infuriating smile only grew. Great.
The problem wasn’t even Jack. It was you, and that was what was driving you crazy.
You used to have a small, tiny crush on the older agent, but you liked to think it was long gone, water under the bridge and all that crap. He was Jack Daniels, for heaven’s sake – he’d never be interested in someone as guarded and shy as you, and though it took you a few months to realize that his ‘flirting’ was actually how he talked with every woman, you made your peace with it.
But being here with him, watching him acting as if he loves you, as if you hung the moon and stars in the sky… Touching you as if you’re the most precious thing in the entire world, trying to be as close to you as possible (though still respecting your boundaries, just like he promised)... It was tearing you apart.
And you hated feeling so out of control of your own emotions.
“You okay?” Jack murmured after a couple more minutes of silence, doffing his hat to someone walking by. “You’re unusually quiet.”
You were sitting on his lap all stiff, trying to remember how to breathe, but it wasn’t easy with his hand on your thigh. His touch was soothing, as if he suspected how uncomfortable all of it was for you and wanted to help you relax, but for all you knew, he could be just looking for an excuse to feel you up.
“M’fine,” you answered, trying to ignore your closeness. “I can just sit next to you, y’know.”
“Never hurts to act a bit over-the-top,” he said, and then eyed you warily. “You’d better not be sayin’ that ‘cause of these women’s talks about ‘bein’ too heavy’. I’ll have you know, cutie pie, that these thighs are meant for a wilder rodeo than holdin’ a pretty little thing like you perched on ‘em.”
You ignored his frivolous remark. Jack waited a couple of seconds before he sighed and slowly leaned in, probably wanting it to seem like he was kissing your neck. But instead of his lips, you felt his hot breath on your skin, making you shiver.
“You look like a gazelle in a lion den, sugar,” he whispered worriedly, taking his eyes off of you to look around inconspicuously. “If anyone’s to believe that we’re a couple of lovebirds, you gotta stop acting like I’m holdin’ you hostage.”
“Easy for you to say.” You had to stop yourself from smacking his hand away from your leg. “You’re probably upset the mission doesn’t let you flirt with any of those women,” you said to draw the attention from your own emotions, but Whiskey just laughed quietly.
“Who said I’d want to? I have the most beautiful gal right here on my lap.” He sent you a wink. “Though she could be more handsy for ol’ Jack’s standards.”
You shook your head disapprovingly, but that didn’t discourage him, especially when he noticed a small smile on your face.
“I’m serious. Or as serious as you’re comfortable with me to be.” He smirked, the bastard, and glanced at you with his eyes half-lidded. “So what will it be, sugar? You have to do your part, too, no?”
As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. Ever since you got here, you were wary, avoiding his touch and teasing more often than not, while he didn’t have any problem with acting as if he was interested in you. You presumed it was nothing for him – he’d do a good job with any woman on his arm, but for you it was almost too painful to attempt.
But if you didn’t want to blow your cover, you had to get over yourself and your stupid heart.
“My part?” you repeated in a whisper, steeling yourself and lifting your hand to his face. Jack froze in place, his eyes wide when you hummed and stroked his cheek with your thumb. “How’s this for acting all lovesick, cowboy?”
“Uhm…” he cleared his throat. There was a hint of surprise and enjoyment in his eyes, but though he tried to hide it behind his usual mask of arrogance, you could also see that he was almost… nervous. “S’better, sunshine. You’d have m– anyone fooled.” You squinted, and then, as if the spell was broken, all the awkwardness disappeared from Jack’s face, and he took your chin in-between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you an inch closer. “Though you could still learn a thin’ or two from your dashin’ lover.”
“Watch what you’re doing, Jack.”
“Oh, c’mon, I don’t mean anythin’ bad.” His hand squeezed your thigh just a little, making you tense. “Just a bit of harmless fun. Our target isn’t even here yet.”
“Talk quieter,” you hissed, but he just chuckled.
“Wanna shut me up, sugar?”
His smile was positively shit-eating, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face. Jack always knew how much to push and prod at your usually composed self, all to rile you up just the right amount. Ginger told you several times that he hopes for your reaction and that’s why he’s doing it, but it didn’t change the fact that sometimes he was pissing you off so much that letting him win would be considered a dishonor.
You squared your shoulders and just as you predicted, Whiskey’s eyes strayed to your collarbone before snapping right back. You raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer, closer, closer… until you heard him inhale sharply.
Your chests were brushing against each other with every deep breath you took, but you didn’t pull back.
Harmless fun, he said?
Your fingers traveled up to the collar of his shirt, fixing it a little, and then slid down his chest. His heart was pounding under your palm, and finding this out brought you a lot of satisfaction, so you took it to the next level and whispered sweetly:
“Please shut up, or I’ll act out a messy breakup and you will have to explain yourself to Champ.”
Before you fully grasped what you were doing, your teeth grazed his earlobe gently, eliciting a low groan out of the agent. His arm around your waist tightened, and that’s what finally brought you back to reality.
In an instant you pulled away from each other. Your neck was hot with embarrassment at your sudden boldness, but at least you achieved your goal – Jack looked completely stunned and, for once, speechless.
Both of you stared at each other for a few moments before Jack mustered a tight smile and nodded.
“Gotta say, uh…” Your eyes met briefly again, and he swallowed heavily, all his bravado leaving him. “Actually, ‘scuse me for a sec.”
Not paying attention to your bewildered expression, he stood up, almost causing you to fall to the floor. His name died on your lips when he fixed his tie and turned around, heading to the restrooms.
It was so unlike him to act this way, that you started to worry you crossed some boundary even someone like agent Whiskey didn’t dare to approach.
You behaved unexpectedly, yes, but was it a reason enough for him to leave like that?
“Looks like my date isn’t the only one who bailed.”
With the strange voice came a man you didn’t recognize, but who sat down right next to you with way too much confidence for your liking. It took you a second to realize he was talking about Jack, and you summoned a small smile.
“Oh, no, no. He just went to the restroom.” You waved your hand in the general direction. “He didn’t leave leave.”
“Then perhaps you won’t mind me keeping you company?” The man – tall, blonde and in a damn expensive suit – offered his hand for you to shake. “My name’s Jacob.”
Jacob? Was it the same Jacob that supposedly planned to seal some dark deal during the reception tomorrow?
You opened your mouth, but before you could ask about his last name – or offer him yours, for that matter – he continued. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, sweetheart. Are you a friend of someone here?”
“Lillian’s old friend, actually.” That was the name of the maid of honor, the same one who had some connections with Champ and notified him about this whole business. “But I came a day before to see the city with my boyfriend.”
“Your boyfriend…” He nodded to the side with his eyebrows raised. “The Southern Sam?”
“That’s funny, cause his name actually is Sam,” you attempted to make a joke for Jacob to lower his guard, which seemed to have worked.
“And how long have you been together?”
Was that an interview? “Almost two years, why?”
“I’m asking ‘cause I saw the cowboy chatting with some ladies at the bar before.” He gave you a fake sympathetic look. “And you were nowhere to be seen.”
You knew about it, of course – Jack tried to get some information out of the singles gossiping at the minibar, but other than an offer for a ‘time of his life’, he couldn’t drag anything useful out of them. But still, Jacob was clearly looking for a reason to make you doubt your boyfriend’s intentions, so you went with it.
“What?” You changed your voice to be softer, and looked over your shoulder. “Oh… well, I’m sure it was nothing.”
“Sorry to say, babydoll, but it didn’t seem like it.”
Jacob shifted closer, now making you really uncomfortable, but you were careful not to let it show. He placed his hand on your thigh and draped the other arm over the back of your chair, sending you a flirtatious smile.
“But just to let you know, if, let’s say… things don’t work out with your cowboy, I have a beautiful mansion not far from here that I’d love to show you. There’s some things I have to take care of tomorrow, but after that…”
He trailed off, and his eyes suddenly strayed above your shoulder. You felt another, stronger arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer, and when you lifted your gaze, you were met with Jack’s brown eyes, full of well-hidden anger.
“Hi there, buttercup. Who’s your new friend?”
Though his tone sounded friendly, you knew it was anything but. You smiled tightly and turned to him.
“Sam, this is Jacob,” you said, giving the former a pointed look to let him know you’re in the middle of handling the latter. But the older agent seemingly didn’t take the hint and narrowed his eyes at their target. “We were just getting to know each other.”
“Well, hate to interrupt your chat, but I’ve got somethin’ I wanted to show ya, darlin’.”
Your eyes popped when you heard him, not believing that Jack was really sabotaging your work like that. But he didn’t back down, keeping his stare cold and hard.
“I think I’ll stay here,” you answered dryly. “We can talk later.”
“We’re talkin’ now,” he doubled down, tightening his hold on your waist. You glared at him angrily but before you could say something you’d regret, Jacob butted in.
“Maybe I should take my leave for now,” he said with a charming smile and winked in your direction. “I’ll see you later, doll.”
You watched in frustration as he walked away, and then faced Jack with barely concealed anger, but he didn’t even look your way.
“Found the conference hall,”he just murmured before standing up. “Follow me.”
An irritated huff was the only answer he received. You did as he asked, however, deciding to give him a piece of your mind in a more secluded location.
“So I think this is the place,” Jack said, stepping slowly around the table. He guided you through a closed off section of the building where you definitely shouldn’t be, stopping in a big, though quite narrow, room. “Had to break down the lock at the door, a pretty sturdy one. I reckon we plant the bug under one of the chairs and maybe somewhere on the other side, but I wanted to get a second opinion–”
“Aren’t we gonna talk about what happened there?” you interrupted him, crossing your arms over your chest. Whiskey paused and looked at you with his brow raised.
“What happened where?”
“With Jacob. What the fuck was that about, Jack?”
“You really wanna talk about this now?” he asked in response, but your unwavering stare spoke for itself, and he threw his arms in the air. ”Fine. Damn me for lookin’ out for ya.”
“He was eating out of my hand, and you blew it!” you accused him, which made him clench his jaw.
“If you didn’t notice, he was gettin’ way too close an’ personal–”
“He’s our target, Jack! The mission is to get close to him.”
Whiskey huffed and turned around, shaking his head. He adjusted his hat, angling it in a way so you couldn’t see his eyes anymore. “Look, sugar, I know the mission’s important and all that jackal’s shit, but we– you don’t need to let the bastard feel ya up to get the information outta him.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” you cocked your eyebrow, not believing him. “It’s my job, Whiskey.”
“Still–”
“And besides, it’s none of your business! What if I don’t mind it?”
He did look at you in that moment, with a gaze so cool and dark that it caused your confidence and resolve to waver. His face, so harsh in its beauty, looked like it was carved out of a block of marble as he slowly strode forward, walking around the long table. Not for one second he took his brown eyes off of you, and you had to resist the urge to hold your breath.
Jack was rarely someone who could be considered ‘intimidating’. Goofy, arrogant, smartmouth – sure. But not intimidating.
But agent Whiskey… Agent Whiskey was a different story altogether.
“S’that so?” he murmured lowly, making your insides tighten at the timbre of his voice. “I didn’t realize my girlfriend is the sort to throw herself into the arms of the first man she meets.”
“Don’t forget yourself,” you scoffed, done with his theatrics. “We’re not together.”
“Jacob thinks so,” he shot back, stepping into your personal space and – to your irritation – forcing you to take a step back. “And now he’ll think I’m neglectin’ a gem like you.”
“So that’s what it’s about!” A short, dry laugh fell from your lips, and you rolled your eyes. “It’s all about Jack Daniels’ precious, fragile pride that some stranger will think you’re not the sex god and womanizer you think you are.”
“I’ve no clue what you’re blabberin’ ‘bout, pumpkin.” That bastard dared to smirk, his chest colliding with yours when you refused to move away from him again. “Sam Brooks is a very faithful and attentive boyfriend.”
“Oh, screw you.”
“And…” he continued, ignoring you. “He doesn’t wanna see any chowderhead’s hands on his girl. Mission or no mission.”
“You’re forgetting yourself,” you shot back with a pang of both irritation and electricity from the way he said ‘his girl’. “This is an act and… and besides, who do you think you are to be telling me that?!” His expression didn’t change and it made the flames of your rage burst higher. “It’s you who has a reputation of jumping at every chance to fuck any female target–!”
The man in front of you moved abruptly, quickly as a whip he was so proficient with, and though your training prepared you for such situations, you still didn’t manage to block his palm from covering your mouth. His head was turned to the side, but returned to its previous position when you smacked his hand away with an angry huff and pushed him strongly.
“What is wrong with you?!”
“Shh!”
“Don’t shush me, asshole! You started it, so now–”
“For cryin’ out loud, shut it!” he hissed, lifting his hand to signal you to be quiet. He tilted his head again and held his breath, waiting. And then you heard it.
Someone was in the corridor, from the sound of it opening and closing the doors to every room one at the time.
You and Jack looked at each other.
“We need to get outta here, sunshine.”
You had to save your argument for later, but the quick search soon showed that the door you came through was the only exit route. There were no windows in the room – a sought-after thing when you don’t want anyone to spy on your shady deals, you supposed – or even any nooks and crannies one could hide in. You were screwed.
“Fuck!” Jack hissed, quietly going back to you from searching around the conference room. “We’re trapped like a pair of mice under the cat’s tail!”
The echo of footsteps was getting louder, more frantic, and you raked your brain about what to do to appear the least suspicious if someone were to nail you in the area you absolutely should not be.
Beside you, Jack sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment, before quickly shrugging his jacket off. Then he unbuttoned two of his shirt’s buttons and walked up to you, forcing you to draw back until your back hit the wall behind you.
“What the hell are you–”
“You’re gonna hate me even more, and m’really sorry,” he cut you off hurriedly and apologetically. You shot him a furious, questioning look, which turned to total confusion when he took off his hat and placed it on your head, ruffling his own hair. “Just go with it, sugar.”
The door on the other side of the room creaked, but you didn’t have a chance to turn your head because right in that moment Jack crashed his lips to yours, kissing you with such passion that it stole the breath away from your lungs. It took you a few seconds to get over your surprise, but you quickly understood what his plan was.
It was wrong and you could still come up with another way to distract whoever was at the door, but if you were honest… you didn't want to.
With the first fiery caress of Jack Daniel’s lips, it became clear to you that his touch was extremely addicting, and as improper as it was, you were already starving for more. It briefly crossed your mind to push him away, because that is not how you imagined this evening to go, but… you had to admit, this was a good idea for a distraction.
And probably your only chance to kiss this handsome, maddening cowboy.
So you reciprocated, your hands grabbing him by his clothes roughly, and poured into the kiss all the longing and feelings you had for your fellow agent, and which you tried to contain all evening. You let it all out.
Jack didn’t waste any time, and the second you returned the kiss, he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you up, pressing you harder against the wall and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The moan you let out was swallowed by his mouth, and he continued to kiss and caress you like a man starved, like he planned to devour you whole.
And maybe it was the alcohol you consumed, or maybe just that infatuation you never fully suppressed, but you didn’t fight your own desire to be as close to him as possible. You used to fantasize about wiping that stupid smirk off Jack’s face by stealing the breath out of him, but you never imagined how wonderful it’d feel.
God, the noises he was making when you tugged on his hair… the feeling of his hands on your bare thighs… and his mouth. On your lips, on your neck and collarbone, kissing every inch of your skin like there’s no tomorrow… Nothing could ever prepare you for how much you wanted him to keep going, to–
You pretty much forgot the reason this make-out session even started, and your heart almost jumped out of your chest when you heard someone clearing their throat pointedly.
Jack’s lips left yours in an instant and you had to stop yourself from pulling him back by the material of his shirt, your head still dizzy from what just happened. Instead you turned to the door, your nerves dying down when you saw a young and clearly uncomfortable man.
“Uhm, apologies,” he spoke up with a nervous smile. “Have any of you seen two little girls running around?”
He sounded sincere, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t calm down your pounding heart. Jack was still holding you up and for a second you worried that he’s going to drop you, but he supported your weight without breaking a sweat.
“No, buddy. Sorry,” your partner answered, and the man nodded.
“Alright… It’s just, they’re wrapping up the party for today, but my daughters ran off somewhere.” His eyes shifted to you and your bare thighs, the material of your dress rolled up where Jack had his hands on you. Before you could become embarrassed, the lost dad coughed again. “Uhm, the staff asked everyone to leave in the next half an hour, so… just so you know. Bye.”
The door quickly shut behind him, slamming a little too loudly in the sudden silence. The shame at being caught – and at your own eagerness to what Jack did – only now came crashing down on you. You didn’t want to face him, but knew it was inevitable.
Jack’s eyes were already on you, with his pupils blown wide. His expression showed the same desire as the one scorching your insides, the same unwillingness to pull away from you, but the special moment you shared was long gone. After ten seconds of silence, he cleared his throat and gently set you down. Your arms and chest felt cold without his body pressed against yours.
Whiskey sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. You slowly took his hat off your head, holding it in front of you awkwardly, and waited for him to speak.
And finally, Jack hung his head low and cursed under his breath. You watched in confusion as he turned to you, stuck his cheek forward and closed his eyes.
“Smack me.”
That was not what you expected him to say. “...what?”
“Smack me,” he repeated with confident readiness, not moving an inch. “I deserve it.”
“No,” you said, totally confused. “I’m not gonna hit you. You did it… only so we wouldn’t get caught…” Jack’s shoulders slumped, making you hesitate. “...right?”
“It’s not just that,” he spoke up quietly, opening his eyes but not looking at you. “If you knew, sugar… the things I did to–”
He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head at the words coming out of his mouth, but the sound wasn’t joyous at all. He ran his hand down his face, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to the motion of his thumb wiping the edge of his bottom lip.
“You were s’pposed to be paired with Tequila.”
This one sentence, which seemingly came out of nowhere, just made you even more confused. “Jack, I don’t underst–”
“I asked to go on this mission with you,” he repeated louder, looking almost irritated that he had to explain it to you. “Practically begged, like a damn fool. Tequila was s’pposed to be your partner, but I couldn’t… That is, didn’t want to…”
Whiskey let out another breathless chuckle, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I’m gonna sound like the most selfish asshole, though that’s probably not far from whatcha actually think of me…”
“I don’t understand a word you’re saying.” You went around him to look him solemnly in the eyes, but he avoided your gaze. “Just tell me, what do you mean by all that?”
“Look, darlin’, I’ve no clue what I wanted to achieve,” he spat with annoyance, as if it was your fault he wasn’t making any sense. “I just fuckin’ knew I didn’t want to see Tequila or any other agent act all lovey-dovey with ya, hold your hand and maybe…” he choked up suddenly, his gaze softening, “...maybe kiss you.”
Your eyes were wide and your mind struggled to comprehend what all of it meant, but Jack didn’t even give you a second to gather your thoughts.
“To be clear, I didn’t plan on that.” He gestured towards the wall against which you were pressed just a few minutes ago, and you understood he’s talking about the unexpected kiss. “I might be a dickhead, but it wasn’t all some grand scheme to suck faces with ya. I wasn’t thinkin’ in that moment.”
Oh.
Why did his last words hurt you more than anything else he said? Your thoughts kept circling back to the passionate kiss you two shared, and it didn’t seem to you like Jack was acting at that moment. Or just achieving a goal he pursued. It felt like he lost control. Just like you did.
But you knew now that you didn’t hate it. What about him, though?
“It wasn’t?” you asked after a few seconds of silence. Jack furrowed his brows, to which you clarified: “A grand scheme to get into my pants. It… wasn’t?”
“Fuck. No, f’course not.” The sigh that escaped him was so heavy with guilt and suffering, you could almost feel it in the air between you both. “It must be obvious t’ya that I find you attractive, sugar, and… I love talkin’ with ya. You’re sharp, funny, pretty as a peach, and I really… really wanted to do it right this time. Show myself from a better side, but…” He took a deep breath, then exhaled unevenly. “I blew it.”
He locked eyes with you, and smiled lopsidedly, but there were no emotions in the gesture.
“So I reckon y’know now why I deserve this smack. Probably not just one, but…” He closed his eyes and spread his arms wide. “C’mon, sweetheart. Bet it’ll feel better for both of us.”
You realized that, yes, Jack was really ready for you to slap him – because that, according to himself, was what he deserved. And maybe on another day, you’d even considered it. But after what you’ve been through tonight and after accepting that the feelings you harbored for the older agent never truly disappeared, you didn’t want to do that. You just needed to kiss him again.
So that’s what you did.
It wasn’t a confident display of affection. More like a shy, light brush of your lips against his, which almost immediately came to a halt when Jack pulled away, looking at you with wide, shocked eyes.
It must’ve been evident on your face, though, that you were equally – if not even more – terrified than him. You gulped and took a step back, but he caught your wrist before that could happen. His eyes were still unsure, but so bright and hopeful, it gave you a boost of confidence you desperately needed.
Jack liked you, you reminded yourself as you went in for a second kiss, which this time he eagerly reciprocated and melted into. He was jealous, you thought as your tongues naturally met and entwined.
He wanted you.
When you parted, breathless from adrenaline, and your lips swollen from the intensity of his kisses, his eyes stayed closed. You waited for any sign of regret on his face, but saw none, only raw wonder.
“I think you smacked me too hard,” he murmured, his eyes darting behind his closed eyelids in a weirdly adorable way. “M’pretty sure I’m hallucinatin’.”
“You’re such a dumbass,” you chuckled while shaking your head, and Jack snorted. “Now open your eyes and look at me.”
He obeyed, and a big grin spread on his face the second he laid his eyes on you. He drank in your bright smile and happy expression, and you let him – that is, for only a moment before you jabbed him in the ribs with your finger, causing him to grunt in pain.
“I like you, too, cowboy. Against all common sense.”
“Thank god for the bats in your belfry, then.” You scowled and scrunched your nose in a fake offense, but he just laughed. Then, very tenderly, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes warm and soft like never before. “You’re cute as a speckled pup, you know that?”
“I think you’re the lovesick puppy here.”
“Technicalities,” Jack murmured before leaning down to claim your mouth in a gentle kiss. You’ve never thought he could be so tender, and immediately longed for more of this side of him – but too soon, he pulled away, gracing you with that smirk of his you always found so irresistible. “I was thinkin’...”
“That would be the first.” Jack shot you a warning glance at that, and you yelped when he smacked your butt lightly. “You’re so fucking lucky I like you.”
“And I can’t fuckin’ wait to shut you up,” he whispered, making you giggle at the clear fondness in his tone. “As I was sayin’, I think we have a king-size bed waiting for us in our shared room.” Your face split into a wide smile, and Jack shrugged nonchalantly. “All to keep up appearances, of course.”
You tugged forcefully on his shirt and claimed his lips again, but in a deeper, more heated kiss this time. A sound similar to a growl escaped Jack’s chest, and one of his hands found its place in your hair while the other one squeezed your butt lightly. You couldn’t help but giggle into his mouth, which caused a similar smile to spread across his face.
“We wouldn’t want anyone to suspect we’re just playing pretend, right?”
His response was immediate.
“Of course not, sugar.”
#pedrostories1k#jack daniels#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#jack daniels x reader#kingsmen golden circle#pedro pascal fic
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The Beforus Ancestors
honestly, i didnt like how the drawings turned out. i searched for references for the ancestors but i didnt manage to draw them the way i wanted to. most of the designs are okay, though i still feel like some of them are missing something, like colors.
more info abt them ↓
The Treasure Huntress (aka. Beforan Aradia) She was a very skilled adventurer and loved finding historic artifacts. She had a special taste for East Beforan art and culture. During her adventures, she met a violetblooded sea dweller who also had a fascination for history and dedicated his life to study and learn more about it. Together, they traveled along each other with the goal of learning more about the history of their planet, and eventually, they developed feelings for each other. However, the warmblooded girl was pale, while the coolblooded boy was red. The unspoken tension between each other lead to a fight, which ended in surprise on both sides over the admittance of feelings. Not wanting to disappoint each other, they agreed to just stay friends.
The Guardian (Beforan Tavros) He he stood up for the rights of trolls in special needs, and by that, he was also heavily against culling (as in the Beforan meaning of culling), saying that nobody should be treated that way (as helpless and fragile, making them too dependant) and by doing that, they would be "hiding the truth of the world from the children" by basically being way too overprotective. He was a farm boy, living in the country sides with his moirail, who mainly took care of the stables. Their farm was open to public visits, and one day, a certain coolblooded visitor has caught his attention. He wished to re-encounter with the man someday. One day, he has suffered a very sudden mutation that made him sprout wings, with him finally being able to realize his dream of traveling the world to spread the word about the dangers of culling and the rights of trolls in special needs.
(please correct me if I got the wrong meaning of Beforan culling, as I will talk about it again)
Radiical Psygamer (Beforan Sollux) He was, perhaps, the greatest programmer that Beforus has ever seen. With his magnificent skills, he was responsible for massively improving trolls’ technology and has contributed to the creation of a few robots and helped with the coding of various popular games. He was, however, a terrible teacher, given his introversion and general social awkwardness. He was a big figure in the world of console games and was the first to actively encourage girls to play games too.
The Unculled (Beforan Karkat) Because of his rare candy red blood, no lusus wanted to raise him, leaving him there all alone. One day, he was found by a purpleblooded man who took him to his hive in hopes that someone would pick him. They waited, and waited, and waited… but no lusus came. Tired of waiting, the big troll decided to raise the grub himself. Because of his caretaker, the mutantblooded grew up to be loud, tough and intimidating, but had a big, friendly heart and cared for his loved ones a lot.
Sharpeye Furrline (Beforan Nepeta) She was a very skilled huntress. According to herself, she only killed what she ate, and if she didn’t eat, killing them would be mean. She could hunt creatures from a very small size to ones that were the double of her own. One day, while hunting for her dinner, she has killed a creature that was going to become a Lusus of a small wriggler. Therefore, she has accidentally unlocked the rage of a coolblooded troll. Terrified, she knew she couldn’t fight back, so she ran as fast as she could, far away from that beach. No one knows what happened to her.
The Seamstress (Beforan Kanaya) A rare jadeblood with a rare taste for fashion. She became known for her dresses with odd patterns, inspired by the landscapes around her. She also traveled in search of different sights and, consequently, more ideas for dresses. Her works have eventually caught the attention of the Empress, who offered her a job as her official seamstress.
The Attorney (Beforan Terezi) She was a blind woman who did not allow her disability to hold her back. She fought back against Beforus’ culling policy and became a excellent lawyer. Dedicating herself to fight against crime and bring justice to maintain the order and peacefulness of her planet, she chased a mischievous pirate lady who seemed to cause trouble everywhere she passed. She was The Unculled’s matesprit.
Arachnid Cap8tain (Beforan Vriska) A troublemaker who caused mischief together with her pirate crew. She considered The Attorney her rival, as she was the only one who insisted in chasing her and never gave up on her quest to capture the spider pirate. A completely platonic rivalry. She held a special interest for snooker and said that the Ball 8 was actually “her lucky ball”.
The Horseman (Beforan Equius) A STRONG man who really liked horses. He lived in a farm with his moirail and was responsible for taking care of the stables. Because of his interest, they ended up having way too many horses, which resulted in them having to build a larger stable for all of them. He loved every single one of them and took great care of each one. He said he occasionally had dreams where he was half a man and half a horse (basically a centaur), which is the origin of his title.
The Clownish Caretaker (Beforan Gamzee) He rescued lususless grubs and wrigglers with an absent lusus and took care of them temporarily, until a new lusus came to become their official guardian. Despite being tall, lanky and overall intimidating, he was a very sweet and cheerful man, and loved entertaining others. Just like others, he was also heavily against culling and said that “every motherfucker should know and be able to defend themselves.” One day, a lusus was coming to his hive to pick up a grub, but it was killed by Shapeye Furrline. The man never felt so much rage before. The pure platonic hate he held towards the woman was bigger than the amount of hate he thought he could feel. Despite that, and contrary to popular belief, he did not chase the lady and took him quite some time to calm down. He was responsible for raising The Unculled and made sure to treat him properly.
The Historian (Beforan Eridan) A seadweller with a huge fascination for history, he dedicated his life to learn more about the mysteries of his world. He read diares and looked for accurate informations, instead of believing in telltale stories. He studied ancient walls and occasionally collected some artifacts, purely for research reasons, and that’s when he met The Treasure Huntress. They decided to travel together, and it did not take long for him to become flushed for her. Unfortunately, she did not return the feelings, instead being pale for him. They agreed to stay friends, but very deep inside, he was still a bit disappointed.
Her Glorious Imperialist (Beforan Feferi) The ruler of Beforus. She was a very kind and sweet woman, undoubtedly one of the best rules Beforus has ever seen. She treated her people with fairness, yet despise that, she was pro-culling, saying that some should not face the dangers of the world. After offering a job for The Seamstress, she and the jadeblood grew close. Despite being the one in charge of the planet, she decided to take care of Arachnid Cap8tain herself, and being a seadweller, it wasn’t hard to find her. She still congratulated The Attorney for her efforts in chasing the troublemaker pirate.
#mareys dump#homestuck#hom3stuck#beta trolls#beforus#beforus ancestors#aradia megido#tavros nitram#sollux captor#karkat vantas#nepeta leijon#kanaya maryam#terezi pyrope#vriska serket#equius zahhak#gamzee makara#eridan ampora#feferi peixes
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Hiiiii! <3 been scrolling through your Ninjago masterlist and I saw there was no HC/drabble/fanfic about a reader who has a culture (or I'm just blind and didn't see it T~T ) anywho, it made me think....I hadn't seen any head cannon of reader x ninja (+ pixal my baby✨) who the reader had a Portuguese culture (and I'm just deprived to see no Portuguese babies in there).
Just the basic stuff like speaking the language, or the food? The habit? I don't know how to explain but it's not something really in research or deep, just the basic stuff.
Here some ideas to help ya if you got no idea ! <3 :
-men usually shake hands with men as a greeting
-we usually smile to anyone and anything in politeness
-We do small talks with anyone, also a sign of politeness
- family events are a somewhat must
-we like to dress nicely (sometimes fancy) to meet family
-PDA is appreciated and somewhat encouraged in public
Etc...
Also, if you feel like you can't write it because it's too complicated, ten thank you for reading! ✨
Of course!!! I really hope this turned out okay ^^ I’ll admit that I didn’t really know too much about this culture beforehand, so please let me know if I’ve gotten anything wrong!! It was fun to do research though, super interesting stuff!!
Ninjago - Ninjas With a Portuguese s/o
Cole
He LOVES hanging out with your family
Ever since he reconciled with his dad, he’s realized just how important family is
So of course he admires your family’s closeness!
Whenever you invite him along to a family function, he’s already putting on his shoes and a nice button-up shirt
He makes sure that you approve of his clothes before you leave
He has an okay sense of fashion, but he just wants to make sure his outfit isn’t inappropriate for the occasion or anything
He’s always super careful to make sure he doesn’t offend your family
Sometimes it’s kind of cute to watch him balk or scramble to correct himself
Even your family finds it amusing
Of course, he’s never actually said something offensive, but he’s still super cautious
He also just tries to have fun and get along with your family!
They adore him ofc, he’s the perfect balance between respectful and friendly
As time goes on, they start to ask where Cole is when you show up to family gatherings alone
You have to explain that sometimes he just can’t make it, especially because of his ninja responsibilities
That’s another reason they love him btw; he has the coolest stories
And he’s a great listener to their stories in return! :)
Jay
He is ALL OVER the PDA thing
He’s a very physically affectionate person, whether he likes to admit it or not
Actually, it was you and your family that helped him realize this
Of course he likes being affectionate with you, but he learns to be affectionate with others too
It started when one of your friends/family members gave him a hug
He was really stiff and awkward at first, but after it was over he realized how warm and fuzzy he felt
From then on he was hooked
He immediately transformed into this super affectionate person
Not just with your family/friends, either; he starts being super affectionate to his family/friends too
The other ninjas tease him about it at first, but he doesn’t care
He’ll hold hands, hug, sit shoulder-to-shoulder, anything that involves touch
He just LOVES being able to show his affection like that!! So much easier than words
(I headcanon that he’s not very good with words when it comes to showing love)
And he loves having the favor returned! (By you or your family/friends)
Makes him feel accepted :)
Congrats, you’ve found a way to finally validate our anxious boy
Honestly he might get a bit carried away with it, so beware
Zane
Zane’s more of an explicit learner than an implicit one when it comes to social culture
(Meaning he can’t really pick up on cues; you’ll have to verbalize things)
So you’ll have to explain your culture to him
But he really loves hearing you talk about it!!
His eyes literally sparkle while you speak
For one, because no one’s ever done him the favor of actually explaining social culture
But also because he can see how important it is to you, and he thinks you’re positively lovely when you’re impassioned
He’ll remember every word, and do his best to practice what you preach
Sometimes it comes off as mechanical or forced (it kind of is), but he gets the hang of it the more he practices
And he’s eager to get practice, which means…
More family time!!
Though it does make him nervous, he likes being around your family so he can practice your teachings and learn more
Your family probably thinks he’s a little odd, but he’s got the right spirit
Being accepted by them would be so validating for him… like all his hard work paid off
AND he’d be close to the people who are important to you!! Double win
Lloyd
He’s another one who really likes being physically affectionate
He’s a huge cuddle bug; this we know
So when he learns that he can hug your friends/family too, not just you, he takes the opportunity
(He still loves you the most, of course, he just likes showing others some love)
It’s mainly the hugs that he likes
Hand holding is a bit uncomfortable when it’s not you, but he won’t reject a hand he’s offered
Cheek kisses are great though :]
He always gets this dorky shy smile whenever someone (especially you) kisses him on the cheek, even if it’s just a greeting/goodbye
It takes everything in him not to giggle like a schoolgirl when he gives one back (for the first little while, anyway)
At first he was a bit awkward giving kisses back, but he warms up to the practice pretty quickly
He used to be just a cuddle bug in private, but by the time you’re done with him he casually practices PDA like it’s nothing
Kai
I’m going to be so honest with you rn. He is going to struggle with the politeness thing
As much as he tries to be cordial and put things gently, if he’s mad that’s all going out the window
If, for whatever reason, you or your friend/family member sets him off, he’s not going to waste his energy on being nice
Cold stares and crossed arms are the least of it; consider yourself lucky if that’s what he does
At the worst…. Be ready to hold this man back
This is pretty rare though, he does try really hard to stay positive
On the topic of trying hard, though, he’s really worried about your family liking him
He knows how important they are to you and he wants to be liked by them
So he’ll always try his hardest to control his temper and follow their polite customs
Unfortunately you will have to be the outfit police when it comes to family gatherings, though
His idea of “nice clothes” is very different from the actual definition
Like, you’re expecting a nice button up and slacks, then he comes out in a tank top and varsity jacket and jeans ripped like he got into a motorcycle crash
He is devastated to learn that, no Kai, those are not appropriate clothes
He’ll still change though, dw
And he’ll be happy about it if/when one of your family members compliments his outfit :)
Nya
Ohhh man….. she LOVES learning about your culture
She wants to know all the details
And she’ll go beyond what you tell her; she’ll do her own research
She’s super eager to test out what she’s learned
She impresses your family first try
Especially because she’s so eager to listen to them
She grows really close with your family, and she secretly starts to consider them an extension of hers
Totally not because she was raised with little to no actual family
She will cry if they start to think the same of her
It might be a little weird for you, with her being so enthusiastic to partake in your customs, but she’ll cut back if you let her know it’s weird
She’s just so excited to learn, especially about something that involves you :(
And she’ll be happy to teach you about her culture in return!
(I headcanon that she’s Chinese :) so if you’re interested she’s glad to share)
Overall she’s just super enthusiastic and supportive regarding your culture!!
She will fight anyone who isn’t
Thank you for this request!! And thanks so much for reading, take care doves <33
(divider by saradika)
#ninjago#lego ninjago#ninjago x reader#ninjago headcanons#kai smith#kai smith x reader#kai x reader#nya smith#nya smith x reader#nya x reader#cole brookstone#cole brookstone x reader#cole x reader#lloyd garmadon#lloyd garmadon x reader#lloyd x reader#zane julien#zane julien x reader#zane x reader#jay walker#jay walker x reader#jay x reader
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I’m starting to think Donald Trump is sounding like Hitler on purpose
Satirist Alexandra Petri hits another one out of the ballpark. ⚾😁 This is a gift🎁link, so anyone can read this column, even if they don't subscribe to The Washington Post. Below are some excerpts:
Sorry! I know! You are sick of hearing about Donald Trump! “Don’t worry,” people keep saying. Donald Trump did just promise to “root out” the internal enemies who “live like vermin” in our country, but he only might be the next president. I don’t mean to worry you, but people are running around with their hair on fire, saying they are suffering from intense, nauseating levels of déjà vu, and those people are historians. I don’t like seeing historians this stressed out. If something in my house has to emit an ominous beeping, I want it to be the alarm clock, not the smoke detector. “We pledge to you that we will root out the communists, Marxists, fascists and the radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country that lie and steal and cheat on elections,” Trump announced on Veterans Day. And when people complained that sounded like something Adolf Hitler would say, a spokesman responded that “their entire existence will be crushed when President Trump returns to the White House.” Which, to be fair, also sounds like something Hitler would say. When you say, “What you just said sounds very much like Hitler’s rhetoric,” you don’t want that to be taken as a challenge. The response you are hoping for is something more like: “Oh no! That was not how we meant to sound, and we are going to leave political life and rethink everything about ourselves and hope that by our final day, we can say we atoned a little bit.” This is not a problem that most candidates have! Ominous, dictatorial rhetoric is not a hard thing to avoid for most candidates. Except possibly for the ones who are running for school boards on the platform of “Let’s ban books,” which also, candidly, I do not love. I can see accidentally saying something like, “I love to stand on a balcony” or “I am interested to see more fashion by Hugo Boss,” but those are not the kinds of things we are talking about. You cannot just “oops” your way into dehumanizing huge swaths of the population. [color emphasis added]
I encourage folks to use the gift link above to read the rest of this column. These are frightening times, but I'm always grateful that when some of us get tired of screaming in fear😱, Alexandra Petri can make us laugh.😂
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Could you write some new Hera/Zeus headcanons?
okie i think i've actually managed to think of some new stuff!! hope it's okay, and sorry for the wait!!!!!!
first, let me link my previous Hera x Zeus hc's: (one) (two)
now. i wrote previously about how Hera and Zeus started off; essentially, after accidentally killing Metis (the ONE other goddess besides Hera whom i hc to be Zeus' "true" love), Zeus finds it impossible to let go of the past and decides that he needs to isolate himself from everyone so that he never gets close enough to someone to hurt them like he did to Metis.
BUT, Hera actually encourages Zeus to let go of that mindset, forgive himself and move on because he's the King now and he needs to take responsibility.
in this list, i wanted to elaborate a bit more on that.
so, Rhea and Zeus are very very close. i think Rhea has the best relationship with Zeus because, y'know, he's the hero. he's the only one she actually managed to save. she feels sooo proud and indebted to him. and, even though she tries very very hard to make that same relationship with her other children, it's very difficult because the others in the Big Six are already "adults" when they're set free from Kronos.
even between Zeus and his siblings; everyone is very cordial and everyone loves Zeus and thinks he's cool, but there's a bit of a clique between Hera, Demeter, Hestia, Hades, and Poseidon-- they're the ones who were trapped in Kronos' stomach. they're the ones who understand that trauma. Zeus, sympathetic as he is, just doesn't get it. he can never get it because he's never experienced it.
so, when the news breaks out that Zeus has done a Kronos and killed Metis and his first child (unborn, but still),, that's really unnerving for them.
i think the rest of the siblings are like, "uhhh too soon!". it's scary. he's supposed to be their brother and the guy who's King, but then he goes and does That and everyone's a little bit.. scared.
Rhea, of course, recognises that there's a rift now between the siblings, and i think she does her absolute best to squash it.
Kronos becomes mad because he gives into his paranoia and pushes all his siblings away. Rhea wants to avoid that by encouraging her children to stick together.. to forgive Zeus for his mistake and not make him feel like an outcast.
but, as i said, Rhea and her other children don't have that strong of a bond. it's not truly unconditional. they won't do just anything and everything she says.
Hestia, i think, was not a "newborn" when Kronos swallowed her, she was a few months old and she has memories of Before, so even though she does love Zeus, i think she just didn't have the strength to approach him directly after Metis' death.
Demeter, Poseidon, Hades feel much the same way.
Hera is unwilling at first. but i think she sees Rhea's exasperation, and she knows that Zeus would've done anything for anyone of them if they had made the same mistake, so that's why she's the First one to go, "yeah okay. i'll talk to him".
i like the idea of Zeus sitting in a forest, sitting by a lake-- he used to practice sparring with Metis by the lake (lake = water = Oceanus = Metis' dad). so the lake is like,, Zeus' connection to Metis.
and. because he's a weather god, the skies are very grey and gloomy only in this one place that he's sitting. and it's bucketing rain. he's drenched, but he pays no notice. he's just miserable.
when Hera first approaches Zeus, i think Zeus tells her to go away, and she insists on staying, and he argues more, and then, in a fit of anger, he releases lightning and sets a tree on fire, and that freaks Hera out-- it freaks Zeus out too because he didn't mean to do it. he has no control over his powers. Zeus' anger is a recurring theme in many later hc's i have hee hee... see: Prometheus, Hephaestus
but, scared as she is, she doesn't leave him. she stays with him, and in typical Hera fashion, she scolds him for acting miserable all the time and never doing anything about his problems.
i hc that Hera is the one who tells him to get his off his mopey ass and start training harder to get a grip on his lightning and his strength so that he won't make the same mistakes again.
and she gets through to Zeus.
in the Iliad and in some other myths, Hera is shown to be proficient in fighting-- she beats Artemis at archery and is quite a force to be reckoned with even though she's not the "goddess of war". but Enyo and Ares, her children, are gods of war. i think they get that from her.
i hc that Hera is brilliant at using swords and bows and spears. it's so natural for her. but Zeus, even though he has so much physical strength, he's not that great at being focused and precise.
but, he trains with Hera and she teaches him to do better. and it works. with raw power, speed, precision-- he's unstoppable.
now, like i've said previously, in all these interactions, they're really just friends. but i think that's where all the romance starts. their bond is like gold being tempered in the fire. each of these non-romantic interactions strengthens the romantic relationship they eventually develop; it gives them a strong foundation to stand on, and i think that's why they last in spite of the obvious highs and lows of their relationship.
much later on in their relationship, when Hera becomes pregnant with their first child, Eileithyia, i think this is a very important milestone in Zeus' life. it's not his first kid, but it is his first kid with a goddess that he truly loves. not a goddess chosen because Fate said so or because he thought it would benefit the future generations of gods, or because it was just a "happy" mistake with some goddess in a tryst... this is his first child with a goddess he would move the world for. there is no ulterior motive here; Eileithyia is born from pure love. just like Athena was with Metis.
so, for Zeus to remain calm during Hera's whole pregnancy-- the pain of losing Metis still fresh, Kronos' curse still whispering cruelly in his ears from the shadows-- it is a huge step for Zeus to remain in control of his fears. he is there for Hera when their daughter is born, she's the apple of his eye and he won't lose her, he won't accidentally destroy her like he did to his other unborn child (of course, time will reveal that he did not, in fact, destroy his other child hee hee but that's for another story).
and, Zeus' strength in this matter 100% comes from Hera being his rock. she's the one who put in the time to train with him and help him get over his fears.
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how would Aurelie have navigated Hogwarts and moving to Scotland in a au where Sebastian was never there? Do you think she’d befriend Ominis?
HI ANON BB!
This question is genuinely so good, but I accidentally wrote a total crackfic in response that only sort of answers your question so I hope that's okay 👉👈
Toast & Tribulation
A crack fic in which I explore an AU where Aurélie is a Slytherin, and she and Ominis are besties/Hogwarts royalty. Yes, there will be Mean Girls references.
Content warnings: aside from nonsense and total crackficery, N/A, SFW.
Word count: 1.4k
Image credit: Ominis found via pinterest by sallowfae. Aurélie generated by me that one single time I tried AI and decided never again lol.
When Ominis Gaunt had first introduced himself outside the Undercroft by threatening to have her expelled, Aurélie swore right then and there to hate him for the rest of her life. And for most of her debut year at Hogwarts, she did just that — vehemently.
Such was her pleasure at seeing the Heir of Slytherin scowl unhappily, she made it a point to purposely side with his best friend Sebastian in every ridiculous argument the pair had, until, quite to her dismay, she found herself on the receiving end of Sebastian's crucio to retrieve a book, trudging through scary underground catacombs in search of some weird old relic and, worst of all, an accomplice to murder when Sebastian's uncle Solomon found out about their misadventures and tried to intervene.
It was only then did she realise she'd perhaps been a bit hasty in inadvertently encouraging Sebastian's descent into darkness out of pure spite — but one didn't just threaten a French girl when she'd done nothing wrong and get away with it.
As it turned out, murder had a way of bringing people together (so long as you weren't the one being murdered), and she and Ominis quickly found themselves allied together under the common goal of covering up Sebastian's crimes and keeping him out of Azkaban. That allyship, as unlikely and bewildering though it may have been, was only strengthened when Anne, Sebastian's twin and the only witness to Uncle Sallow's death besides Aurélie, rallied against them, insisting that her brother deserved to pay for his crimes by having Dementors suck out his will to live for the duration of his life.
Anne Sallow had been a formidable opponent indeed; as stubborn as her brother and twice as clever, it had taken all of Aurélie and Ominis’ combined efforts of cunning and resourcefulness to convince her to spare Sebastian a fate worse than death.
Subsequently, their allyship morphed into friendship after Anne up and disappeared, feeling betrayed by her brother and her oldest friend (and decidedly not a fan of the New Fifth Year), and was only strengthened further when Sebastian withdrew into his own private pit of despair, shutting them out despite their best efforts to pull him out again.
Driven together by the absence of the Sallow twins and a burgeoning sense of camaraderie, Aurélie and Ominis — later dubbed Aurelis by their many admirers — found themselves with no one else to turn to but each other. By their seventh year, having realised they were far more powerful together than they were apart, the pair had become not only best friends, but Head Girl and Head Boy respectively, founders of la Société du Papillon Bleu (an exclusive club in which Aurélie passed judgement on the latest fashion trends and Ominis agreed even though he couldn't see any of it), leaders of the school choir, and the two most popular and influential students Hogwarts had seen since the original founders had walked the halls.
If they could cover up a murder together, they could do anything.
‘The toast is dry,’ said Aurélie one morning when Ominis joined her at the Slytherin table.
Today, being Wednesday, Ominis had foregone his usual Slytherin green and silver for a bespoke all-black blazer, waistcoat and tailored trousers; one of the many ensembles Aurélie had ordered for him especially from France.
‘That is unacceptable,’ he sniffed. ‘Hand it to me, let me feel it.’
A quick touch of the toast was all the confirmation he needed. Dropping it back onto the platter like a used handkerchief, Ominis wiped the crumbs off his fingers and declared, ‘Toast is out.’
Aurélie agreed with a fervent nod. ‘Toast is so out.’
Across the table, his mouth full of toast, Sebastian quietly rolled his eyes.
‘You two are ridiculous,’ he muttered. ‘You do know that toast is supposed to be dry, don't you?’
‘You do know that on Wednesdays we wear black, don't you?’ Ominis retorted, and then, as an aside to Aurélie, ‘He's not wearing black, is he? I can sense it.’
Dressed in his typical emerald and silver uniform, Sebastian's natural tenacity rendered him immune to the self-imposed fashion rules that dictated his friends’ outfit choices, but he knew better than to argue with their astute judgement of appropriate bread dryness, and by the end of the day, nobody at Hogwarts dared eat another slice of toast lest they be cast aside and shunned for the rest of their schooling days — and possibly even beyond.
And so it went: unchallenged in popularity, fierce and beautiful and vaguely terrifying, Aurelis were free to reign over the student body, revel in their infamy and walk in slow motion down the corridors between classes without consequence or reprimand.
One spring morning, struck by a sudden stroke of inspiration, Aurélie brushed Sebastian's hair so that it swept across the right side of his face instead of his left. The result caused a frenzy the likes of which hadn't been seen since Professor Weasley had been caught smuggling toast into the faculty lounge, and suddenly every student, male and female alike, were changing the parting of their hair in hopes of replicating Sebastian's natural good looks and easy nonchalance.
‘I saw Sebastian Sallow wearing his hair swooped over the opposite way, so I'm wearing my hair swooped over the opposite way,’ was a common phrase heard throughout the castle that week, and Sebastian enjoyed his newfound rise in popularity until Aurélie had the genius idea to let a lock of hair loose from Ominis’ usual slicked back hairstyle, and Sebastian's right-sided swoop was forgotten in the fever pitch that ensued thereafter.
When December rolled around, the subject of the approaching Yule Ball was all anybody could talk about. Rumours abounded about Aurelis, the King and Queen of Hogwarts, until the anticipation was palpable and the collective excitement simmered on the edge of frenzy: what would they wear? Who would they go with? Would they arrive as a trio, Aurélie, Ominis and Sebastian united as one terrifying entity, or would they bestow their company onto those brave enough to ask them as dates?
And what of Aurélie's dress? Had it really been handmade by a commune of Veela within the Palace of Versailles, who'd once, under utmost secrecy, made garments for Marie Antoinette? As the weeks wore on, the scrutiny over Aurélie's gown became so intense she had to hire a security troll to guard over her wardrobe day and night.
When the trio indeed did arrive at the Ball as one united front, and glided down the Grand Staircase together in coordinated outfits, a collective gasp of adoration arose from the rapturous crowd, and several people actually fainted; never in the thousand-year history of the Yule Ball — nay, in the wizarding world at large — had a vision of such profound beauty and perfection been beheld.
Aurélie's dress was an iridescent dream of shimmering gauze, as delicate as butterfly wings. Woven with unicorn hair and real fairy dust, the colours shifted from baby blue and sweet pink, to pastel green and pale lavender with every elegant movement and catch of the light. Several real butterflies fluttered in her long braided hair, and on each arm, in matching silk suits and unicorn hair bow-ties, Ominis and Sebastian stood tall and handsome beside her, enjoying their place next to the ethereal beauty that was Aurélie Genevieve Collins.
Once nothing more than a trio of misfits — an unknown French transfer student, a relucantant Heir, and an uncle-killing Dark Arts enthusiast — they'd risen above all adversity to come out on top. To come out as royalty. Overlooking the awestruck crowd, the three enjoyed their moment of glory until a great echoing bang sounded from across hall, and every head turned away from them.
Framed in the great entrance doors, a blinding vision of gold so bright they had to shield their eyes, stood a small figure, her dress cascading to the floor, glittering with what looked like pieces of pure sunlight woven into the silk.
Somebody screamed, but whether from excitement or terror, Aurélie wasn't sure, until a moment later the stranger turned, moving so gracefully it made her want to cry, and a familiar face came into sharp relief.
Their eyes locked from across the room. Beside her, Sebastian let out a gasp.
Anne Sallow had returned to Hogwarts.
#morelikeravenbore writes#ask morelikeravenbore#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy fandom#aurelie collins#ominis gaunt#sebastian sallow oneshot#ominis gaunt oneshot#hogwarts legacy oneshot#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#ominis gaunt fanfiction
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ATEEZ Song Mingi Tarot Reading - Ideal Type
Disclaimer: I do tarot readings for fun, so please read them with a grain of salt. Don’t take my words too seriously and just keep an open mind. Tarot is a divination tool that can’t predict the future, as every single individual has their own will and makes their own decisions. Tarot is not a fixed fate. It should be seen as a guidance and a good friend that just has your best interest and gives you advice when needed. I’m not putting anyone in my readings on a pedestal nor am I trying to harm anyone. One last side note, I’m not a native speaker, so please excuse any wrong spellings or poor grammar.
Date of Reading: August 6th 2024
Deck: Edgar Allan Poe Tarot
Their Personality - Queen of Wands, Three of Cups, III The Empress
Mingi is attracted to independent and hard working people. His ideal type should have no problem taking responsibility. He loves confidence, someone who’s secure in their own skin. He could also feel drawn to someone wealthy, they should earn their own money. It makes sense though, this way he can ensure that this person isn’t into him for the money or lifestyle. He wants a supportive and nurturing partner, could feel drawn to someone who has more of a motherly vibe? Like he wants to feel pampered and taken care of. They should be approachable, with a very calm and warm aura.
Mingi’s ideal type is a little social butterfly, someone fun to be around. I think he needs to friends with that person first as well, there already has to be a certain trust. He’s into someone with a lot of positive energy, a happy virus if you want. They should enjoy social gatherings as well, someone he can go out with to a party. He feels drawn to people who uplift others and spread confidence.
Creativity is something that Mingi finds extremely attractive. I’m also seeing an empath here and someone who easily sympathizes with others. He loves a person that encourages others to be their very best. I know we’re talking about personality here but beauty is a big plus for him. However, i see this more related to the personality as well. He loves someone who’s incredibly beautiful on the inside. This is someone with a very kind and good heart, who’s not afraid to spread unconditional love. He feels drawn to people with very strong feminine energy (i’m not talking about gender!).
Physical Appearance - Page of Pentacles, Knight of Pentacles (R)
Mingi’s ideal type has to look rich. He feels drawn to very well dressed people. They have to be perfectionists about their appearance. I see someone with a darker skin complexion, maybe green or brown eyes. For the hair anything is possible but he most likely likes dark hair the best. I also see him being into very prominent cheekbones. He could be into someone who’s younger or appears youthful. Fashion wise he could enjoy some classic, slightly conservative styles. Not showing too much skin, leaving space for his imagination.
Hope you enjoyed!
Love, Nicky 🫧
Masterlist
#ateez#ateez tarot#kpop#kpop tarot#mingi#ateez tarot reading#tarot#kpop tarot reading#tarot reading#mingi tarot reading#mingi tarot#song mingi
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hi! can i request seeker trine with seekerling/sparkling reader? i just need some good ol found family fluff. preferably headcannons ^^
thank you! have a good day/night!
For sure! Since you didn't specify I stuck with G1 ^^
G1 Seekers with a sparkling
Under the cut :)
Whoever gave them a child is a fool and is banned from Decepticon HQ
Starscream is shockingly responsible when handling them, making sure they're taking in enough fuel and are properly maintained. He knows how questionable the medical skills of Hook are, so he takes it upon himself to deal with any and all minor injuries that might pop up. His approach might come across as clinical to some
He makes sure they're educated properly despite the war going on. As a scientist, he enjoys teaching them about whatever interest them, showing a surprising amount of patience. But still, not as much patience as he probably should
In true Starscream fashion, he's not above manipulation and doing what he can to turn them against Megatron, or at the very least, have them loyal to him
Starscream tries his best to keep them at an arms lengths, however. He's worried about Megatron using them as leverage against him
Thundercracker is tired. He's trying so hard to keep them out of trouble but between Skywarp's antics and whatever Starscream has been putting in their head, he's got his work cut out for them
He does is best to make sure they grow up into a respectable seeker, teaching them basic manners and making sure they don't step too far out of line. The responsible caretaker, if you will
Lowkey worries constantly about them. He knows that growing up in a war can't be easy, and that living at the bottom of the ocean on an alien planet in a leaky metal tube isn't ideal for anybody. He does what he can to make sure their basic needs are met, sometimes snagging them something he thinks they might like when he's out on a mission
Skywarp is that one uncle that isn't estranged but you only see at family gatherings and is chill and funny and sometimes slips you a $20
Of the three, he seems to be taking it the least seriously. He encourages them to join him when he does his pranks, and is constantly trying to get them out of their duties
But, like Thundercracker, he knows that growing up in the current environment is hard, and he worries for them. He knows he's not the smartest and can't provide them support the way the other two can, so he takes it upon himself to try to keep them happy and content
He encourages any hobbies they might have, sneaking them supplies for whatever it is they want to do when he can
The three of them are rather rigid in their training. They make sure the sparkling is able to fly properly and hold their own in combat. They know that the sparkling joining the war effort isn't an 'if', but a 'when'
The first mission the sparkling goes on, the trine is on them like gum on a shoe. They get called out on their hovering, but it's not gonna stop them. They lowkey expect the coneheads to keep an eye out for them as well
Like Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp worry about Megatron using them as leverage in some way, and as such have a hard time showing open affection. It's easier for Skywarp, but Thundercracker only does it when he's sure there's nobody around and even then it's rare
Soundwave is the designated babysitter in emergencies. He hates this and has enough kids to deal with please god let him rest
Overall, they're decent caretakers if not a bit distant. They're working with what they have and hoping for the best
#transformers#transformers g1#transformers x reader#transformers headcanon#transformers headcanons#maccdam#starscream#g1 starscream#starscream x reader#thundercracker#g1 thundercracker#thundercracker x reader#skywarp#g1 skywarp#skywarp x reader
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i sorry for saying this but i have to be honest, i dont understand why the LnDs MC having a gender is a problem, i mean, i understand you making a gn OC for some kind of support or representation but not why the MC, who already have a female body (and with that i mean biologically, the old fashion way everyone would visualise in their minds at first when they hear "female body", after all even if we young ones think this patter is wrong it still a pattern old ppl and from different cultures, and almost everyone understand and learned at first at a very young age) and if im not wrong also refered as "she" im the game, cant be described with anything that isnt gender neutral, i also have no idea why someone would be offended or feel not included reading about a MC with a gender, we all are different and is impossible to include everyone, ppl can feel not included for things you cant even imagine would be a problem, and not being able to see yourself on a story once isnt a big problem, you can ignore or jump to the next one, or just see the character like a character or another person that isnt youself.
I hope you dont get mad at this (and was able to understand my point, i usually have problems communicating with others and since english isnt my native language it gets worst), its that i just dont see the point in all this, i understand having a preference or incentivating one but not feeling somenthing bad and being against the other...
I understand what you’re trying to say, nonnie, but I have to point out a few things first. First off, I shouldn’t have to explain my own boundaries because at the end of the day, they are boundaries and should not be discussed. When something makes me uncomfortable, I shouldn’t be negotiating why people should respect that and stick to it without questioning my motives.
However, I understand you have no ill intentions, so I will be answering you—not because I’m obligated to, but because I want to point out where your line of thinking comes to harm marginalized communities.
The very simple answer is this: Because I’m a fanfic writer.
I’m not creating the MC in a game where she physically has a body and an appearance. Otome games were initially made as fantasies for their players to picture themselves in romantic situations. But since most Otome games have female MCs with very stereotypical appearances, most people who do NOT look like that end up having to imagine an OC/someone else in their place. It’s a shitty feeling; to feel left out because game producers can’t be assed to create more diverse options.
Second of all, the “old fashioned way” was already fucked up from the start, because even female bodied people are much less likely to look like Otome game MCs—who are almost dauntingly pretty, have virtually no physical blemishes, have straight hair, big eyes, and are incredibly thin. Now think of all the people who do NOT fit that physical description and are almost always excluded. When I visualize a female body like you say, I don’t instantly picture a perfect-looking skinny fair-skinned girl who looks not a day past 18. Because female bodies aren’t just one thing or the other. It’s a beautiful spectrum.
Third of all, leaving “old fashioned thinking” as it is is already a harmful concept. Should we ignore white people’s racism because it’s how they were brought up in the old-fashioned way? Should we allow sexism & misogyny in our communities because it’s how they were brought up back in the day? Should we encourage fatphobia by not silencing people because being thin and encouraging EDs was acceptable? Should we let homophobic hate crimes keep occurring because that’s what used to happen?
The number one goal of our new generations should be to reconstruct society and dismantle all the harmful practices that were done by our predecessors. Ending the cycle is our responsibility and no one else’s, and to do that, we have to take active measures to undo what they’ve done and erase what is “the norm.” Just thinking it’s wrong isn’t enough; we must take action to cut that shit out.
And because these were the “old-fashioned ways” it’s still the default for almost every writer to create for a female audience. Imagine a fandom has 200 writers. 190 would write for female MCs, and only 10 writers would write for more diverse MCs. Should everyone else that is not female (and, by the way, gender-queer people represent a massive percentage of fandoms online, and males do exist within our fandom spaces) just keep living their lives having to picture other people instead of themselves, because not enough people care enough to include them in their writing?
Here’s a realistic representation of what you’re saying: let’s say there are 2 million LNDS players around the world. 1 million are female. 1 million are not. The second 1 million will never get to see themselves as the MC. Now they can’t even picture themselves in fiction? Should the second 1 million be forced to feel left out in their own fandom space?
The same also happens with race representation in fandoms. Less than 50% of the world population is white. Yet we don’t see except very few people in fandoms writing for Black people, Latinos, Arabs, South-Asians, South-East Asians, Inuits, Native Americans, etc. Why is that? It’s because fandoms are catered towards white people. So should we just let the entire half of the globe never feel included in the art/writing fandom creators make? Do they not deserve representation and comfort too?
So when I write, I write for everyone. And when I say everyone, I mean EVERYONE. Because I think everyone deserves to see themselves loved and cared for by their favorite characters. Because everyone needs that sort of comfort. Because I myself have spent my entire life looking for that comfort in fandom spaces and never finding it. Even if the game doesn’t allow them to do that, I’m giving everyone a chance to enjoy the game through their own eyes, without having to be a stereotypical skinny girl with sleek straight hair and a dainty face. Because we want representation, and if the canon content can’t give us that (even though they claim it’s supposed to be “us”), then at the very least our fandom spaces should provide this. I hope you understand why my rules are there now. They’re a protection for both myself and everyone else in this fandom.
Fanfiction was created by the people, for the people—not just for a certain demographic that fits beauty standards and “old fashioned thinking”—and it should always be for ALL the people.
Being as inclusive as is humanly possible is never a bad thing. Refusing to see why consistently excluding others is wrong IS a bad thing, though.
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Interest has been shown. The first page exists below.
Yet sacrificial beast take heed, for a crown cannot sit upon two brows.
It wasn’t like they hadn’t been warned, now that Lambert thought about it. What god wanted freedom without first maintaining the powers he already had? And truly, had Lambert expected to survive the conclusion of their deal? Certainly not, some part of them had already known that their fate would likely take a twist, from the desperate clings of survival to the turbulent unknown.
Still, they’d been…optimistic.
They’d let themselves become attached to their new life, as best they could in the throes of grief. Replacing distant cloudy figures of guardianship with their first mentor, Ratau. The giggles and games played with friends long past haunted their dreams, and yet they awoke to equally friendly faces, all praising their name, all overjoyed at their deeds. Lambert had grown fond of them, their little flock, built from the stragglers of those not unlike them; family gone, friends sacrificed to the old faith, and yet they remained. Scarred, yet alive, and given new purpose within their cult, to be whatever they wanted to be. It was their loyalty that kept Lambert living- for every lamb needed a flock to support them- and together, from one, to two, to three, to four, to five, to over 30, Lambert’s flock, faith, and power grew.
They’d let themselves become used to it. The clack of rolling dice during knucklebones, Ratau’s silly laughter each time he won a measly ten gold from them, the rowdiness of the shack as it slowly filled with Ratau’s most loyal, goading them on. The nights spent curled up in their tent, gazing out at their flock- cult, Lambert, cult- and watching their breaths rise and fall steadily in slumber. The warmth of the ovens, the steady flow of water onto the farm beds, the toiling of their followers as they collected resources for their leader to use whenever they pleased. Lambert had never fashioned themselves a chieftain in their mind, had left such fantasies to their older siblings, who had more hold on the title then they ever had. Still, when they looked upon their cult, met with awe-filled eyes and enthusiastic expressions, they wondered if maybe they would have been a good one. If perhaps, under their rule, their family might have survived.
They’d never know. Their family was dead, gone, taken from them by the bishops, and soon, they would be too. They’d gotten the revenge that they’d wanted, hadn’t they? Lambert had slain each of the people responsible for the eradication of their closest, had seen to it that they were brought low, their heretical cults diminished to scraps. This was the next logical step; they had traded all of this for the eventual freedom of The One Who Waits. And wait their master certainly had.
“Return the crown to me, and embrace the end that awaits you,” The One Who Waits had uttered, a decree and demand all at once. “With this last sacrifice of my most devoted follower, I will be freed!”
There was such joy on his face, disbelieving, hopeful. Lambert couldn’t stand to look at it.
Rather, they looked up at the cages on either side of The One Who Waits, where their followers stood, looking on with wide, tearful eyes. What other meaning could one take from such a being when they told your leader to lay their life down? Lambert could see they understood, even if the missing context was surely eating away at them. This was it. The end of Lambert’s life. But not, they knew, the end of their cult. The One Who Waits would need them to continue generating his power, at least for a time, and that would assure their safety, even when Lambert’s own was in question.
They gave their cult- their flock, oh, their flock- an encouraging smile. The same quiet comfort they gifted to each huddled creature awaiting their fate with quiet sobs, only to be met with a lamb whose hands brought only care. A gentle spirit, who led with mercy and joy before all else. They had never sacrificed a follower; their first and last would watch this spectacle, would witness their leader be brought as low as the bishops before them. The world held itself in silence.
Lambert obeyed. Met the eyes of the three before them head-on. Aym and Baal looked on as passively as they ever had, though they could see the held winces as their knees hit the middle of the sacrificial circle. It was an all-too-familiar position, and yet so different from their first encounter with execution. Here, they looked into the face of death himself, and their fate would be found in freeing him rather than keeping him chained. It was a worthy goal, one that they were sure their family would be proud of, when they passed to the other side. Hopefully, the world The One Who Waits imagined in his incarceration was one of peace, too. With blooming flowers, joy, plentiful food, and restful nights.
Lambert closed their eyes to the cries of their followers, a gust of air past their neck.
They awoke once more with a gasp, hands scrabbling on cold stone, shuddering in the brightness.
A gentle breeze flowed through the air, breaking the warmth of the sun. Quiet conversations and amusement reached Lambert’s ears, and when they squinted into the light, it revealed flowers of all colors, rolling fields blessed with a bountiful harvest, and the sight of their flock, dotted across the landscape, eyes darting over to them warily every once in a while. Waiting? Why would they wait for them? No, they couldn’t see Lambert. So, they weren't completely dead, then? Perhaps they’d been made into a ghost, trapped by magical energies. Was that even possible?
“No, it isn’t. You’re quite alive. At least, you are now.”
Lambert’s head whipped around, into the darkness, and they paused for a moment, eyes adjusting down into one focused point. There he was, their incarnation of death, their master. The same pride in his eyes, the same gentleness on his face as he once held when comforting a frightened lamb after their sudden death moments before. There. In Lambert’s temple, where they’d delivered sermons praising the name of The One Who Waits, insisting their followers direct more worship to him than themselves, though the sweet creatures hadn’t quite listened. The red crown- once a constant companion of Lambert’s that they’d treated with care and shown the beauties and horrors of the world- now sat on its owner's head, scarlet eye fixed on Lambert as it always had been.
“Why?” Lambert made their way to their feet, trembling. Aym and Baal, still at either side of their master, started forward to catch them before their legs could give out. “My sacrifice was meant to free you. It worked, right? I didn’t…I didn’t fail, did I?” It certainly didn’t look like Lambert had; The One Who Waits, once in chains, now moved with ease and grace. With the crown returned, and the veil removed, he looked entirely different. Stronger, assured, and lighter than the burdened shoulders of before.
“You did not fail.” The One Who Waits blinked, and Lambert found themselves taken aback. Why did their master exhibit such confusion? Was such a question so out of the blue, when they’d been about to die, and could still feel the air in their lungs, the beat of their heart? As if reading their thoughts- and Lambert gulped when they realized he probably could- their master flinched, the look of pain on his face a stab to Lambert’s heart.
“No. No, I would not…I was not specific enough.” He sighed. “I needed to sacrifice you as an act of ritualistic integrity. That wasn’t false to believe. However, nothing prevented me from bringing you back in the aftermath. Your end was to be brief. I needed your life force to break my chains; now you have it back, albeit in a less empowered position.” Before their eyes, he shrunk from the looming presence of before to something more familiar, alike to the cats they’d brought back to the cult from Darkwood. On either side of Lambert, Aym and Baal retreated, their closeness a comfort as Lambert struggled to remain standing. I was never meant to die permanently.
The lamb’s eyes darted up, meeting those of The One Who Waits-
“Your death was always meant to be short. And it’s Narinder. I no longer wait for anything.” It was a familiar smirk that danced across his features now, so similar to the one he gave them each time they returned to him, bloodied from fights with his siblings, and yet triumphant with their hearts in Lambert’s hands.
“What are your desires, my lord? How can I serve you now?” Lambert straightened, though their knees still wobbled. How pathetic they must look, wobbling in front of him now, as if they held any use to him. Ah, a dampening to his smile. They would need to be more careful with their thoughts than they ever had been before, if they wanted to obscure from him how- grassy fields, their cult’s delighted exclamations, grass covered in blood, the wails of their mother as her child left her side, forced away, lamp posts wrapped in leafy green glowing through the night, torches in a writhing dance, trees on fire, the eyes of their lord, The One, Narinder, exasperation pulling his muzzle-
“Don’t bother. Your thoughts are those of a mortal, even within your immortal state. Nothing you think should shock me more than any of your followers.” Contemplation, and then, “As for what you can do for me; you may build a cult in my name, as vast and great as any of the old faith, if not greater.” A weight settled upon Lambert’s brow; a temple window gave them access to their reflection, a golden crown resting atop their head, that had before been a sign of discipleship. Atop their head, it felt as tangible as the crown had. “Do we have a deal?”
Lambert gazed into four scarlet eyes, filled with pride. With a smile, whispered, “Absolutely.”
#the last sacrifice au#not trinket#cult of the lamb#cotl au#cotl lamb#cotl narinder#fanfic#fanfiction
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2023 Wrap Up
A strange year that was both long and short. The main lesson to learn from 2023 is the same lesson I have been learning every year since I was 6 years old: Things happen if you try!
I spent a lot of time this year hitting my head against a wall, or rather healing from an RSI that caused making art to become really fraught. I could bear the wrist pain in order to do my favorite thing (drawing!!!) but then the pain stuck around after I had clocked out for the day and was making dinner. It would go like this: I want to make pasta sauce using canned tomatoes, but using a can opener is so painful now that maybe I should just do something else. The onions and garlic are already cooking in the pan though, what can I pivot that to? I felt like the biggest dunce in the world. I worked my way into being cursed, I deserved it.
I have this craving to just commit to a big art project, like a graphic novel, and keep my head down working on it. Having all my time devoted to work feels a bit like doing penance, like earning my bread. But I look at the world and I know I cannot draw my way out of this. I can’t write my way out of this. I can’t post my way out of this. I am unprepared for what I need to do to earn a better tomorrow. But I am prepared to learn.
I changed up my desk ergonomics and my wrist healed. Thank you to the huge desk easel that I stole from my parents’ house. It’s ugly, heavy, stained, and I keep banging my elbows on its sharp corners. It sucks but it saved my life. Do not resist making your workspace uglier if it might help you!
Making The Influence and participating in the ShortBox Comics Fair was a huge work highlight this year. I’m so grateful I can make a work with dark themes and have it be understood and appreciated. The encouraging response to The Influence did a lot to kill the bad faith reviewer in my mind. Things are possible if you try!
I started painting again and I really love it. I’m trying to just follow the image-making. Painting is play to me and I want it to remain so. I feel myself itch to turn it into some kind of profitable thing, to make it palatable, but I’m trying to resist so it remains a place of experimentation.
I also wrote a short novel. It’s awful. I just re-read it and it’s so bad, but reading it makes me happy. It needs serious reworking to be a proper novel, but I did technically cross the finish line and write the whole story. It was very refreshing and informative to branch out like this, even if I don’t think this particular example is fit for human consumption. Earlier in my life I was so stubborn about ONLY working in comics but now I’d like to pursue whatever path I can to have a creative career. If you try!
I had a great time tabling at Short Run this year. Two different people came to my table and told me they came to the show specifically to see my table. One person said Bug Boys was responsible for facilitating “many special moments” with them and their niece. I don’t want to forget about moments like this. It means a lot to me.
It occurs to me as I type out this year’s accomplishments, they’re mostly things I did at home alone. I haven’t rejoined the world after COVID in a meaningful way, the way I hoped I would during lockdown. It comes naturally to me to make up excuses to stay home, keep my head down, watch how things play out before joining in. That attitude does me a disservice. It isolates me. When other people are only in the screen, they become hypothetical. It’s not right to live this way, but it’s comfortable to me. It feels “safe” after COVID, even though it’s not safe. I know I need to change this.
It feels sick and strange to be blogging in my safe little apartment during a time of bloodshed. To flip through my planner and think of my future while others starve is obscene. My entire life was obscene in this fashion. It’s my responsibility to sit with this feeling and do something with it.
Here’s to a better 2024. We can do it, we can try.
In love and solidarity,
Laura K.
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Thumbnail redesigns for The Chippettes and The Chipmunks!! (AKA some first drafts in a more simple style to my usual one- the same one I use for my warm-ups and doodle dumps!) I'll also be sharing a BUNCH of headcanons for these versions of the guys I made ♡♡
This is how I imagine they'd look if they got a new show or movie in the 2020s! I was mostly inspired by their 80s and LA looks for these, and modern fashion. In terms of storyline, I would place them firmly back into being celebrities, as opposed to standard citizens, but like the LA movies, students in High School. They are each in their respective bands, but collab often. The chipmunks are biological brothers still, while the chipettes are sisters through adoption.
Alvin, Simon and Theodore were adopted by Dave shortly after the birth of Theodore- Alvin and Simon are twins, while Theodore is their younger brother. An incident in their original home separated them from their family, landing them on Dave's doorstep, similar to the older shows. As a songwriter and composer, Dave would often write songs for his boys to sing, and when they were old enough to all consent to a contract, Dave helped them to begin their career in music- with the fact that they are talking, singing chipmunks aiding them greatly in their rise.
Alvin is similar to his live-action counterpart, and is a big troublemaker. I don't really like it when people soften Alvin's personality, and take away the troublemaking personality which he is known for. He is the lead vocalist, and plays the guitar. He has a big ego, and acts on impulse, and despite his troublemaker tendencies, he still loves his family and wants to do good by them deep down. Alvin is 15 years old.
Simon is the smart, sarcastic, and sometimes snarky twin of Alvin, with his personality resembling is 80s and LA counterparts. He is the older twin by a few minutes, and deems himself as the more responsible brother. He plays the Keyboard, as well as singing back-up vocals. Simon does well in school, despite the distractions that fame may offer. Simon is 15 years old.
Theodore is the youngest of the chipmunk brothers, bearing similarities to the personality of his 80s counterpart. The only brother who never knew his biological parents, Theodore is much more attached to Dave emotionally, and the most insecure of the brothers in his identity. He plays the drums for the band and Sings back-up vocals, and enjoys cooking outside of his music career. Theodore is 13 years old.
Brittany, Jeanette and Eleanor are not biologically related, but stumbled across eachother at a very young age, on a boat to Australia, where they were meant to be an exhibit. Together, they made plans to escape, ending up at an orphanage, where they were discovered and looked after by the girls who stayed there, growing closest with a girl named Olivia. Dreaming of stardom, the Chippettes would put on shows for the girls of the orphanage, who began to encourage them to pursue their dreams. Eventually, the Chippettes did leave, inspired by seeing the success of another Chipmunk band (this is Charlene and her band, who i hope to explore later!). After a rough year, The Chippettes made their way to the USA, where slowly, but surely, they built a name for themselves, eventually meeting the Chipmunks face to face. The Chipettes are eventually adopted by Ms. Miller, a retired opera singer.
Brittany is most like her Live-Action counterpart, as the sassy and determined leader of the Chippettes, with a bit of a mean streak. Despite these factors, she only wants to see the best for her sisters. She is hard-working and defensive, and has a love for K-Fashion. She is the lead singer of the Chippettes, and the only one not to play an instrument. Brittany is 15 years old.
Jeanette resembles her live-action counterpart, as a shy, and anxious bookworm. The oldest of the Chippettes, Jeanette takes up most of the worrying for her sisters' safety, especially in their darkest years. She is very clumsy, and isn't good at the choreography which is thrown their way. Jeanette is a trans girl. Jeanette plays the Violin, and acts as a back-up singer for the Chipettes. Jeanette is 16 years old.
Eleanor is the least like any of her counterparts from generations past. An activist, Eleanor stands up for what is right, fighting for her messages proudly, often wearing statement shirts to school and concerts. Eleanor loves to dance, coming up with all of their dance moves. Eleanor plays the bass guitar, and Sings back-up for the Chipettes. Eleanor is 14 years old.
I hope you guys like these, because I would LOVE to do more !! ♡♡
#thunderstomm#tomm talks#alvin and the chipmunks#alvin seville#simon seville#theodore seville#dave seville#brittany miller#jeanette miller#eleanor miller#mrs miller#ms miller#alvin chipmunk#simon chipmunk#theodore chipmunk#brittany chipette#jeanette chipette#eleanor chipette#the chipettes#chipettes#redesigns#my art#my doodles#thunderstomm art
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