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[niceandaccurategoodomensanalysis]

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Religious trauma in Good Omens: Aziraphale's case

We talk about religious trauma and the state of constant psychological abuse and manipulation experienced by those who suffer it, using Aziraphale as an example.

DISCLAIMER

This post is about painful experiences and the different ways you can react to them. This may affect you in particular and be difficult or stressful to deal with.

Here I intend to speak to you about the trauma of Aziraphale. I use the singular not because it is a single event, but because it is a very specific type of trauma to which ours has been subjected continuously since the beginning of time: religious trauma.

WHAT IS RELIGIOUS TRAUMA

Religious trauma is a complex type of trauma that usually has its greatest impact during the period of development: a person grows up in a social context that is regulated according to the dictates of any sect, which greatly influences the way they approach reality and, above all, themselves.

Often, this trauma begins to affect the existence of the victim even before they begin to speak and thus have the capacity to articulate the memories associated with it. It is not necessarily this trauma that is marked by significant events: very often it is its impact on everyday life that literally conditions the people who experience it, placing them on a well-trodden path of conventions and moral imperatives from which they must not deviate.

We are all (obviously, given the fandom) familiar with the concept of original sin. When a person is brought up with the view that we are all born sinners because we have literally inherited that sin and must spend our lives making amends for what is in our nature, several things happen:

_we live with a constant sense of shame and fear of not making it, of not being enough; _we blindly trust those who raise us and show us the way, and we may not want to see the inherent hypocrisies and contradictions because that would bring us into conflict with reality; _as a result, we have an incredible fear of authority and will tend to respect hierarchies even when they do not make much sense to us, and also try not to question what we are told; _we want at all costs to be 'part of the herd' and conform to the group, so we will suppress anything that we feel is different and might cause us trouble.

Now let's consider that, growing up in such a context, we become aware that something is not quite right for us. It could be anything from realising that we have sexual urges, to being attracted to someone of the same sex, to feeling uncomfortable in our own bodies, and so on.

In response to all of this, we experience feelings of shame, self-loathing and a desire to repress that which takes us away from what is the right way to be.

All these things are cruelly represented in our beloved angel Aziraphale.

AZIRAPHALE'S TRAUMA

It is really difficult to talk about Aziraphale's pain, although it is probably the most obvious and easiest to explain in the series. Because it is tangible, it is realistic, many of us experience it all the time and can relate to it.

Aziraphale has won us over with his almost childlike tenderness and joy, with his tenderness for the little things, with his tendency to take to heart the well-being and happiness of every human being in front of him. He is pure, genuine, sensitive and always on the side of good. But behind his façade of a happy and enthusiastic little creature, there is a frightened, abused, insecure child full of shame and self-reproach. This will always condition his actions and will lead him to the painful and, as we shall see, inevitable epilogue in which he rejects Crowley's love to follow Metatron to Paradise.

TO DO WHAT IS RIGHT OR TO DO WHAT I MUST?

We immediately see how Aziraphale lives in a state of perpetual contradiction due to his strong sense of morality: in the series, the first thing we see of him is the moment when he gives Adam and Eve the flaming sword he received as guardian of the Eastern Gate, so that they would not be completely helpless in their escape from the Garden of Eden.

As well as entertaining Crowley (and winning his immediate admiration), the episode shows us from the outset that Aziraphale has a moral compass that always points in a very precise direction: the good of others. This will often lead him in the series to act on impulse, only to have to face the consequences of constituted authority, and create in him an everlasting sense of remorse: almost immediately he is asked by God himself to account for the sword, the very sword that was in danger of becoming an instrument of destruction in the hands of one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse - except that it was then the key to preventing it.

Unable to fight his nature, Aziraphale finds himself repeating the same actions over and over again: in the miniseries about the life of Job, his tenacity to save innocent creatures at all costs leads him to confront Crowley head-on, discovering his plan to circumvent the orders he was given and not kill anyone. But the web of lies he and the demon have woven tightens around him as Gabriel, Michael and the other angels descend to give Job the good news that he will be able to have more children in exchange for those who have been killed.

Aziraphale is thus forced to make a choice: tell the truth, exposing Crowley's deception and leading to the presumed murder of Job's children, or lie, saving everyone but tarnishing himself with what he sees as an unforgivable guilt. Our angel, as we know, chooses to lie. This causes him tremendous pain and leads him to believe that his fate is sealed and that he must fall. Despite having made the right choice.

Fortunately, as we know, none of this happens. But the fear of doing the wrong thing is always with him.

NATURAL ENEMIES

Aziraphale never makes it a secret that he despises Crowley's demonic nature. Never.

It is painful to compare the admiring look he gives him in S2E1 when he meets him in his angelic version, intent on starting the nebula he has been working on since the beginning of time, with the veiled look of shock (not to say a little disgust) he gives him in S1E1 when they meet again as an angel and a demon, on the walls of the Garden of Eden.

However, as soon as it starts to rain and Crowley gets close to him, Aziraphale immediately takes him under his wing. Aziraphale is an angel, and as such he loves no matter what. It is his peculiar and almost poisonous trait that leads him to help and to forgive even those who have wronged him.

Aziraphale believes that Crowley should be forgiven and loved, but he cannot accept that he has feelings of love for him. This leads him to reflexively despise himself for what he feels, and to push Crowley away whenever he gets too close: think of the argument under the gazebo, or when, confronted with Crowley's suggestion that he take him for a ride after giving him the thermos of holy water, he tells him that he "runs too fast".

It is already obvious to us viewers, and to Aziraphale himself, that he has feelings for Crowley that go far beyond camaraderie, but he cannot let go of them: the fear of retribution and the contempt he feels for anything that is not angelic leads him once again to flounder in contradictions and adopt that yo-yo attitude that characterises all his interactions with Crowley.

THE FINAL TEMPTATION

Crowley is a demon sui generis: he is not really evil and does not mind harming others. In fact, if he can, he actively avoids doing so. However, he does enjoy temptation, and one of his favourite targets is our beloved angel. Still during the miniseries on the life of Job, we see Crowley's first successful temptation of Aziraphale: while the two are patiently waiting for the storm to pass in the cellar of the mansion, Crowley offers him a drink, but Aziraphale refuses, not wanting to succumb to the intoxication of the wine.

Crowley then suggests that he try some human food. The angel is initially disgusted, but makes no objection, and is so impressed by what he tastes that he devours the entire roast beef on the table. Crowley is delighted, and this gag of temptation for an invitation to dinner is repeated throughout the series. Whether the invitation comes from him or from Crowley, each time Aziraphale eats contentedly and our demon watches him eat with satisfaction.

Crowley can therefore be said to be initiating Aziraphale into the pleasures of the flesh, which he will indulge in to the fullest. Aziraphale is a hedonist who loves refined and special things: from antique books to bespoke clothing, passing records, tea and sushi. He loves the objects he surrounds himself with and treats them with care: remember the white gloves he wears before leafing through the only existing copy of Agnes Nutter's Prophecies!

Aziraphale delights in touching his surroundings, and we have already talked about how his predominant love language is physical contact. As much as he can control himself, he touches our demon every time he gets his hands on him. He cannot help it. He desires it, and while Aziraphale has not realised this for the better part of 6,000 years on Earth, in the last century he has come to acknowledge it openly.

This leads Aziraphale to experience another contradiction: he wants to have more physical contact with Crowley, but he cannot. Crowley is a demon, he is the enemy, he is everything he abhors, but the angel he was is always there, alive, before his eyes, and it is out of love for that angel that Aziraphale accepts Metatron's proposal, faced with the prospect of being able to take Crowley back to Paradise with him. So they could be together, in the sunlight, with the approval of God and all, in an angelic way.

But Crowley unexpectedly, desperately, refuses.

Our angel feels betrayed, but has no choice but to accept Crowley's will.

Here is the irreparable, the ultimate temptation our demon could offer: a kiss, a last desperate cry for love, a plea for help, a series of meanings too great to be expressed in words. Crowley grabs Aziraphale by the lapels and for a few very long seconds their lips meet.

Aziraphale has never experienced anything like this before (probably not even Crowley) and feelings stir inside him that he has never even been able to name. Feelings that frighten him, feelings that bring back his contempt for himself and his being far from angelic nature. Aziraphale desires Crowley, discovers that he wants to be kissed by a demon (as the writers of the show themselves have revealed to us), and all of this clashes with everything he has ever been. He has just witnessed the contempt of angels and demons for the love of Beelzebub and Gabriel, he has just risked extinction for helping the fugitive Archangel, and yet Crowley tempts him with a sweet and terrible kiss.

But Aziraphale is an angel, and as such he loves and forgives.

So he forgives Crowley.

But Crowley, by definition, is unforgivable: disappointed and embittered by his beloved's rejection, he leaves.

Aziraphale does not really want to go to Paradise, but his desire to be part of the herd, his need to be loved and accepted by his faction, drives him to go, to do what is right, what is expected of him as an angel.

As he gets into the lift and asks Metatron what his task will be, he discovers that he will have to deal with the very thing he had already averted in the past: the Second Coming, the Last Judgement. He realises his mistake, realises that he is trapped, and once again wonders if he should do what is right or what he must do.

This time, however, it wins what he must: after one last look at Crowley, watching from afar, Aziraphale climbs into the lift with Metatron that will take him to Paradise. His trauma is so deep and ingrained that it has removed any prospect of being worthy of love except in the light of divine approval.

Although leaving everything he loves - Crowley, Earth, the Library - causes him enormous pain, Aziraphale must return to Paradise and fulfil his destiny.

More infos at Religious trauma syndrome - Wikipedia

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[paper-mario-wiki]

"no art is good bc it's a misconfiguration of the natural world to suit man's vanity" Is an extremely misanthropic take on art. Is humanity not part of "the natural world"? Can one not make pigments from flowers or minerals? You say that the universe would never align so that a piece of art is made without human intervention, but the universe did align so that it could be made, you just assume humans aren't part of it. I understand that this is some faux-deep shit I'm on, but I love art and while I think good is kind of useless adjective when talking about art in general, to compare the concept of art to a tumor is a pretty bad faith take. Sorry if that was like, ironic or something and I just sent a rant into your inbox for nothing.

your faux-deep shit could never reach the faux-depths of my even shallower faux-deepness.

i think the main problem when establishing this argument in the first place was saying "all art is bad" because someone asked me if i liked any bad art, and i answered using "bad" as a shorthand for "not good". if i had known i'd be getting into this pedantic of an argument about it i definitely would have changed my wording, because things that are "not good" are not inherently "bad", which seems to be where the majority of the misunderstandings of my stance come from.

i'd ask you this: what could be considered "good" outside of something that affects humanity in some capacity? to be clear, you're absolutely right, humans ARE natural, humans ARE part of the world. but the idea of something being "good" didn't exist until humans came up with it.

100,000,000,000,000,000 light years away, two planets crash into each other, each with their own forms of biological life so different from earth's that we would find it difficult to even classify it as life if we were given the chance to observe it, but that doesn't matter because we would have never been given the opportunity to reach those planets anyway under any circumstances. is this a good thing? is it a bad thing? i don't think it's either, it's just something that happened.

because "good" and "bad" are code words used to reflect the societal values of the person using them, they cannot exist in a vacuum.

so if that's the case, and "good" and "bad" only exist to us, what does it mean to us?

well, something "good" is something with objective benefit or subjective enjoyment-- but subjective enjoyment of something can also contradict the nature of its objectivity. soup can be considered "good" because it sustains us and is therefore beneficial. soup can be considered to "taste good" because someone might enjoy the flavor. but "torture" can only be seen as "enjoyable", but it benefits nobody-- even if the person doing it enjoys it. that's just them subjectively enjoying it.

conversely, something can be objectively good but still subjectively unenjoyable, like having a soup that's healthy in a way you think tastes bad! you'd still benefit from it, even if you didn't enjoy the experience. but regardless of whether or not you enjoyed it, what has the greatest bearing on something being considered "good" is its objectivity, as it's something fewer people can debate.

now, all of that being considered, what can "art" do that is objectively good, without it serving some secondary purpose? something that is objectively good can be artistically created, like a children's hospital designed by a genius architect-- but its goodness in that case would be derived from its benefit, with the subjectivity of it being something that only enhances its good.

a piece of fabric, stretched across a wooden frame and painted using colorful oils, creates no benefit objectively, it exists solely in the world of subjectivity. how can something be "good" if the only thing it does is hold the potential (not the guarantee) for a person to look at it, and enjoy looking at it?

more importantly though, is that bad? it's not.

but it is superfluous.

^ please forgive me for typing all of this. im so sorry. it's just so easy to be pedantic. i promise im not a stick in the mud and i love art, i just also happen to be someone who is personally deeply concerned with rhetorically whittling communication down to the bare knob of its meaning (XRA style).

because it is something i find subjectively enjoyable.

[lusmeitli]

But like of each thing that in season grows

Summary: How a kind gesture can lead to something more. One shot.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Christmas fluff, mention of off screen assault, some swearing, lots of snow, books, poetry, smutty smut.

A/N: Okay, look. It just wanted to get out. You’re thrown in without a warning, nor a floatie. Apologies for the liberties taken to interpret and manipulate characters to dance after my will once more. Obviously don't read if you're a minor.

9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9~9

The greatest ideas were conceived in the shower. That was a scientific fact.

You liked facts. You did not like uncertainties or speculation. The feeling of being in limbo was something that didn’t sit right with you.

So as you were in the shower, working the conditioner in your hair, the idea was just there. It was simple, humble, but beautiful. Your hands slowed and stilled. And then your mind rebooted and went at lightning speed, planning things out. You needed to write things down.

You stepped out of the shower hurriedly, towelling down your body, before realising that your hair felt different. Cursing, you stepped back under the water to rinse off the conditioner.

*****

You hated staff meetings. Particularly third Thursdays staff meetings, because they dragged on and on. The weekly mission reports were presented and Fury insisted on inviting some guest speakers. He called it “Horizon Thursday”.

In your opinion it narrowed rather than widened it. Today’s guest speaker was Quinn Harris, cyber security specialist. You suspected self-proclaimed, but you hadn’t bothered doing a deep dive on him.

You were sat on the increasingly uncomfortable chair, rows of employees in front of you, the Avengers at the very front. Rogers had delivered his usual military style mission report, the other members of his team trying to look alive, though you suspected Romanoff and Banner were asleep, as they were both donning sunglasses.

“What you need is a quantum computer and it’ll solve all your problems with encryption.”

“They might as well propose using block ciphers,” you murmured under your breath, turning the page in your book.

Meanwhile, a hand shot in the air at the front. “Excuse me, Mr Harris.”

The man smiled. “Mr Stark, do you have a question?”

“Well, not so much a question for you, but I would very much like the opinion of another expert on what you just said. You know, before anyone here thinks about investing in your product, which, let’s be honest, would be me. I’d like to be sure it’s the right thing.”

Fury rolled his eyes and sunk back in his chair.

There had been talk about getting that dude in? You must have zoned out for that part.

Harris’ face fell for a second, but he honed his features and forced a smile. “Of course.”

“It just so happens that we have an inhouse expert,” Tony got up and scanned the crowd. “Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Everyone uniformly turned to look at you. Everyone.

You felt the moment one particular pair of eyes set on you. The amount of times you had spoken to one another had been limited to the missions you were needed on, for hacking. You’d had his voice in your ear a few times and it did things to your body that made you feel like a system overheat. You never really saw him during missions though as your job was very much office-bound.

Today, he wore the damn leather suit. Whilst Fury didn’t give a fuck, Rogers very much was all about the professional appearance of the Avengers. What you didn’t understand was why everything looked better on him. The black and green possibly was the best colour combination there ever was. The other day Bucky had worn a Slytherin pullover and even though it very nicely accentuated his physique, it looked nothing like the colours did on Loki.

You swallowed hard when you felt his eyes on you. They seemed to see right through you, even over the distance of the seven rows of chairs.

And then you felt the weight of all the other pairs of eyes on you. That was a lot of people. You gulped and pushed your glasses back up the bridge of your nose - a habit you couldn’t break. 

“Y/N,” Tony called, bringing you back to the matter at hand. “Stand up and look at me.” His voice was gentle. “Start breathing again. Good. Now tell me what Harris is not telling me about the quantum computer.”

You adjusted your glasses again and cleared your throat. “It’s a solid proposition, I suppose,” you started, “however, one I would expect from a college freshman, certainly not from a cyber security expert specialist.”

Murmurs erupted, but you ignored them and rattled off your thoughts.

“Can a quantum computer crack asymmetric encryption algorithms? Yes. And yes, we all know that thanks to Shor’s algo the maths problems are only polynomial. Also, we know this applies to discrete log problems, too, therefore, all we’d need is a large enough quantum computer. Of course, he,” you gestured to Harris, “would have to build one first, which as you can guess is very costly. However, this entire presentation is based on the assumption that quantum computing is the end of asymmetric cryptography. And that is such a blatantly ignorant approach, with complete disregard for the safety of the members of our staff that are entirely reliant on the encryption cracking working on all their devices during operations and missions. And this whole quantum computer only works if you have a network connection.”

“So you’re suggesting there are hard problems that a quantum computer can’t solve?” Harris said, chin jutting out, arms crossed defiantly.

“Don’t be silly, of course there are,” you huffed. “I coded new post-quantum asymmetric encryption algos three years ago and tested them on several sites I am not authorised to disclose that have quantum computers. Not one of them cracked the simplest of those codes, in any of the over 5,400 attempts they ran over the past three years. So this presentation is… rather embarrassing in its sloppiness.”

“Well,” Harris’ lips were a thin line now. “I’m sure you have a ‘much better’ suggestion then?” He actually raised his hands to add the quotation marks.

“Actually, I do. I developed our own version of a quantum computer, at - and I’m only guessing here - a fraction of the price you’d charge Mr Stark, which can crack both symmetric and asymmetric encryption, works on all of our staff’s devices, portable and stationary, works offline and is about the size of, uh, a thumbnail.”

You pointed to your thumb, because in your humble experience men like him struggled to accurately size things.

Tony smiled and turned to Harris.

“Okay that concludes today’s meeting.” Fury got to his feet and patted Harris’ shoulder. “Looks like we’re good, but thanks for coming.”

People around you stood, some nodding at you as they passed. Tony caught up with you in the hallway. Before he could say something you blurted out: “Did I say something wrong? Was I rude again?”

He smirked and pushed the button of the lift. “He needed putting into place. Totally fine by me. You did great.”

“Stark!” bellowed Fury from down the hall and Tony winced.

“Excuse me, mother’s calling.” He turned and left.

You sidled into the lift with several other people. The cabin stopped a few floors up and people got off. That was when you noticed Loki on the other side of the lift. Up you went and after another stop you were alone with the Asgardian god. The cabin seemed to shrink.

You both watched the numbers climb, the lift hummed, Loki’s leather suit creaked softly as he crossed his hands behind his back.

“Could you please enlighten me about Shor’s algorithm?” he suddenly asked, looking at you.

You had a heart palpitation. Surely that was what it was. He was so impossibly tall and sculpted and… here.

“Um,” you pushed your glasses back up, “it’s a quantum algorithm for finding the prime factors of an integer.”

Loki’s face looked blank.

“It, er, essentially it finds the prime factors of large numbers a lot faster than conventional computers do. Which we use in encryption. The large numbers, that is. So it cracks codes faster.”

“Ah,” he said, head turning back to continue staring at the number display. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you croaked out.

The urge to facepalm burned under your fingers, but you resisted. As soon as the doors slid open on your floor, however, you fled and sought asylum in the ladies’ toilets, banging your head against the wall of the stall.

*****

Operation Great Idea was in full swing.

So you’ve had a little personal setback, but that didn’t deter you from the objective. You had compiled a list, one you were confident was accurate based on your intel and research. That very list was neatly folded in the deep pocket of your coat as you walked through the cold rain on this late November afternoon.

Yes, you did something you’d never done before - take an afternoon off - and were trying to evade puddles on your way to the bookshop. Could you have ordered the books online? Most of them, certainly. But your late mother, an independent business owner, had ingrained in you to support local shops. You liked bookshops, they reminded you of her and of simpler times.

Your timing was excellent - of course you had researched when the shop was least busy - and you practically had the shop to yourself. And so you walked, dragging a pull-along basket behind you as you searched the shelves for the books on the list.

Sometimes, there were different editions there and you stood for a while, feeling the weight of each book in your hand, the feel of the embossed letters on the spine, the scent of the pages. You wanted it to be just right, so you took your time.

Some of the books you would only be able to get in a little second hand bookshop, tucked away in a side street. You had called beforehand and the owner lifted a box from under the counter to show you what she had reserved for you. As soon as your fingers made contact with the books you felt absolutely giddy.

Back at the Tower, you spent two entire evenings wrapping books after work. When you were finished, you leaned back, looking at the neatly organised stack. Yes, you were ready. Now all you needed was an exorbitant amount of luck for the next 24 days.

*****

You watched Loki stare suspiciously at the first parcel. He was sitting in the communal kitchen, Thor next to him. 

“Why would it be hexed?” Thor asked. “Simply because the sender is missing?”

Loki just gave him a pointed look.

“Come, brother, aren’t you curious to find out what is in this gift?”

“Loki got a present?” Steve asked as he pulled a bowl out of a cupboard. “Did I miss his birthday?”

Before Loki could say anything, Thor shook his head. “He’s worried it has been tampered with.”

Roger’s brows furrowed. “How did it get into your possession?”

“It was on the floor outside my door this morning,” Loki complied, sighing.

“FRIDAY would have picked up on any foreign substances or intruders in the tower,” Tony said between gulps of coffee. “He now can detect traces of magic, too. ‘Course, he went apeshit over your magic, but we got it under control, eventually.”

“That’s what all this ‘Alert, alert, magic detected, caution advised’ blaring at five in the morning was?” Scott bustled in.

A slight tinge of red shaded Loki’s complexion. “I have to practise some time.”

“Thought you were born with it?” Scott interjected, helpfully.

This earned him a glare. “I was born with the aptitude for magic and sorcery. It takes a lot more than mere talent to achieve this level of proficiency.”

“Several centuries, in fact,” his brother supplied. “Now then Stark here says it’s safe. So open it, brother!” Thor clapped his hands together. 

Loki indignantly and very reluctantly slid the parcel towards him and pulled on the simple string that held the wrapping together. The paper fell open to reveal one of the books you had picked.

From your vantage point of, well, your computer screen, you zoomed in to get a better look at him.

“Oh, a book,” you heard the onlookers muttering disappointedly, quickly losing interest and going about their business once more.

But Loki just sat, staring at the book. It took him a good few minutes to pick it up. And he did what you had seen him do many times before. He weighed it in his hands, fingertips running over the cover, the spine. Then he opened the lid. To anyone else it might not have been noticeable, but to you it was: he inhaled the scent of the book. And finally, there was the smallest upturn of his lips.

You exhaled, relieved. One down 23 more to go.

*****

Over the next week you were too busy testing the new firewall you had developed to check on Loki’s reaction. Sometimes you felt a little self-conscious, scared even that he might not like the books or think this was from a stalker. Which technically you had indulged in, stalking that was, but only to find the perfect books for him. And then sometimes you would get worried that someone else might have found the presents.

But you knew he had received every single one of them, for every evening, when you passed the common area you saw him sitting on the couch with the latest offering in his hands. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but it looked as if his tense shoulders had started to relax a bit.

Another couple of days went by and as the decorations started to pop up in the Tower and the first snow fell that didn’t immediately melt or turn to mush you felt happy. Perhaps it also had something to do with the fact that a certain someone walked differently. Maybe it was your imagination. But he seemed even taller these days.

*****

“Did it work?” you heard his voice in your ear a couple days later.

The data set was streaming on the screen in front of your eyes. “It did. Give me a moment to inject the virus, then you can disconnect the USB cable.”

“Can I still talk to you?”

Your fingers on the keyboard stilled for a moment, surprised. “Of course. The program runs through your phone, not through comms.”

There was a little pause, before he said: “I have a question. About a Midgardian tradition.”

You wrinkled your nose, scanning the code rushing over the screen. “I’ll try my best, but I’m rubbish at traditions.”

The audible outbreath sent shivers down your spine. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“What’s your question then?”

“Tell me about the Yuletide calendar.”

45% done. “You mean the Advent calendar?”

“Precisely.”

This was dangerous territory you were treading on. “Oh, it’s a fun thing for kids, really. To make the wait for Christmas a bit more exciting and I guess more bearable. It’s nice to get a little something like a toy.”

“Is it always toys?”

69% now. “Well, no. My mum used to get me an advent calendar that had these lovely drawings behind each door. I hung it up in the front room and we’d open it together every morning.”

“I suppose it’s a nice custom,” he said, before asking, “What about grown ups, do they have advent calendars?”

83%. “Sometimes. There’s all sorts: beer, wine, beauty products, chocolates - you name it, it probably exists somewhere.”

“Books, too?”

The question threw you, did he know it was you? A light was blinking on your screen.

100%.

“That’s it, Loki, the virus is uploaded, you can unplug the cable now and get out of there.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

You heard a crackle and the comms was handed over to operations again. As you finished running the decryption programme on the data Loki had extracted, you kept hearing his voice in your head.

“Books, too?” Were you busted?

*****

Security breaches were both an insult as well as an admittedly welcome challenge to you. Someone had tried to flex their fingers - and you had a very good idea who - to break into Stark’s network. They had managed to pierce a little hole into the outer layer of the firewall, but they didn’t know that you had several back up plans in place and you enjoyed watching them work. However, as you scanned over the intruder’s code you devised a new security strategy.

You were in the middle of coding a nice little primer for a new layer - unexpected because of its simplicity, but a tough little nut to crack - when someone cleared their throat next to you. You looked up to find Loki, his eyes fixed on you. You blinked, looked around, but no one else was there, and back up at the god.

“Can I, uh, help you?” Smooth. You facepalmed internally.

“I realised I have never been in here,” he said, looking around the room, then back at your desk. “You have a lot of monitors.”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Just the standard three.”

“What are you doing now? Or is it a secret?”

“It’s not a secret at all. So we’re currently under attack. Relax,” she said when she noticed him tense, “cyberattack. Someone’s knocking at our backdoor, trying to see if they can get in.”

You motioned to one of your screens. “This is the intruder’s code. He’s trying out lots of keys to see if he can get in. And this,” you pointed to the screen next to it, “is our defence mechanism.”

“Extraordinary.” Loki’s low voice murmured. He was close. You turned your head and nearly had a heart attack at just how close. His sharp profile was illuminated by the blue glow of the monitor, his hair falling to his shoulders, one hand splayed on the desk, the other resting on the back of your chair. He looked beautiful. Perfect. He was leaning closer to the screen so he could see what was going on. Your breath hitched.

And then he turned his head.

Something that sounded an awful lot like a squeak escaped your throat.

Loki lifted an eyebrow. “Am I making you nervous, Agent Y/N?”

You pushed your glasses up your nose and leaned back, just an inch. “No?”

Loki’s eyes drifted over your face, before they met your gaze again. “Is that a question or a statement?”

“A… a statement,” you mumbled and, for good measure, added, “sir.”

His eyes darkened, a smirk curling the left side of his lips. “Are you scared of me?”

You tilted your head ever so slightly. “How can I be scared of you?”

“You’ve heard the stories, undoubtedly.”

“I did. And if I believed everything people told me and not looked beyond I would be incredibly shitty at my job.”

He smiled at that. It was small, but there, and it made him so attractive you felt your stupid heart starting to pound in your chest. Could he hear it?

“Do you like to read, Agent Y/N?”

Another adjustment of your glasses. “I do.”

“What would you say is your favourite book?” His voice was low and smooth.

His hand moved from your desk to the side of your face, where he gently pulled on a tendril, before he brushed it behind your ear. The back of his fingers skimmed your cheek for less than a second, but it sent you reeling. It was as if an electromagnetic pulse was slowly wiping clean your hard drive. You couldn’t think.

“Um, err, Jane.. Jane Eyre.”

He hummed. “I wonder why? Is it because she’s abandoned and rejected all her life?”

You shook your head slowly. “No. Because she’s forced to leave home, into a life she didn’t choose. But when she is given the freedom and space to grow she learns to be the master of her happiness.”

His eyes followed the curve of your neck and back up again. It almost felt as if he was touching you. “Interesting.”

You swallowed again, before he stood upright, nodded at you, turned and left. 

Your heart was pounding. And then your computer beeped and your attention was back on the screen.

“Oh pants…” Your fingers started flying over the keyboard. “Not today, Harris. Or any other day.”

Nine more books to go.

*****

He was onto you. Of course he was. After all, he was the God of Mischief and Lies. If anyone would find out who was behind this, it would be him. Personally, the preferred outcome was that he never would find out.

You had asked yourself often over the last 18 days why exactly you wanted to do this for him. But that was just it. You really had no other motive than wanting to do this for him. Maybe because you sympathised with him, being stuck somewhere far from home, feeling lonely and not really integrated. Maybe you had projected your own feelings onto him a tiny little bit. Possibly considerably. However, it was done with the best of intentions. You wanted to make this nice for him. The run up to Christmas. A little bit magical. He must like magic, he was a sorcerer after all, wasn’t he?

So what if you had started dreaming of him at night. He would lean over you as you sat at your desk, in all his tall- and broadness. This time his hands would be touching you. And he’d lean in to whisper into your ear. Admittedly, not words you would necessarily associate with such a situation.

When you would wake up you knew where to place the things he said to you in your dreams. He’d said them to you during missions. And yes, “how much longer till the download is complete, Agent Y/N?” was not remotely as sexy as “I’m going to ravish you now, thoroughly” would have been, for example. But your brain only had so much to work with and it worked for you.

You noticed a few things, however. Loki was around more often, probably just a silly coincidence, or you had started to pay more attention. He looked at you now. You’d look up and find him already looking at you, sometimes a little smile crossed his lips, but mostly it was just something with his eyes, they seemed… warmer, maybe?

However, to your horror you discovered that you had started to blush. Every single time this happened. So you spent a lot of time in the ladies’ toilets, splashing your face with cold water, only to see it even more flushed than before. Apparently, all the books you had read lied about that ‘splashing your face with cold water to calm down and not make people notice’-thing.

But it all boiled down to the fact that he was onto you. Maybe he was humouring you and seeing where this was going. Maybe he had found out already and you made him feel awkward. Or he was waiting for the opportune moment to expose and humiliate you. You weren’t sure which.

Right now it didn’t matter. You were so tired you could hardly see properly anymore. So when you decided to crash on the sofa in the common room, because it was halfway to your room, you didn’t think to check if anyone was there.

That was mistake number one.

You collapsed onto the sofa with a groan, eyes closed, head leaning against the back of the sofa.

“Fuck. My. Fucking. Life,” you complained to the universe. “Can you please make the appendage of that misogynistic wanker fall off already? For fuck’s sake!”

Mistake number two.

Someone chuckled. It came from rather close to you.

Dread filled you. Foul language was not tolerated in the workplace. To be fair you could argue that the common room was not your workplace per se, however, you did not want to start arguing with HR because they were absolute savages in the art of word twisting. Or just savages full stop.

Carefully, you cracked your eyes open. And there, on the sofa right next to you, sat Loki. One leg was stretched out in all its glorious length, the other bent at the knee, his forearm resting over it, the book in his lap now closed, one of his slender fingers acting as bookmark. For a moment you wondered what it would feel like to be the book.

“I hope it’s not my appendage you’re asking to be removed,” he said with a smirk.

You grappled to sit up, horrified. “Of course not! That would be awful… I mean, a terrible thing to wish for… you’d… err… such a loss of such a beautiful… I mean, I can only guess… but… um, err… heavens, please make me stop talking…”

You hid your head in a throw pillow, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

Mistake number three.

The sound of a low, rumbly laugh made its way to your ears. It entered your system like a virus, leaving your limbs feeling weak and yearning. Was Loki laughing? You lifted your head and watched him, highly bemused at your idiotic display.

It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard. You felt a hard tug at your heart. Goodness, if this man wasn’t already a god, you’d have to declare him one. If he were the head of a religion you would throw out your atheist views and follow him to the end of the multiverse. He looked absolutely breathtaking. Then again, when did he not?

“I’m so sorry,” you started to apologise, “I don’t know what-”

With superhuman speed he moved and sat next to you, his finger on your lips. The feel of his digit on your mouth felt more intimate than any sexual intercourse you’d ever had.

And then he leaned in.

He was so close your cells were basically breathing him in. His eyes were locked onto yours and nothing would have been able to make you look away right then.

“Do you want to know what book I’m reading right now?” His quiet words did things to your insides that were not legal.

You just about managed to nod, his finger still in place.

“‘The Remains of the Day’ by Kazuo Ishiguro. Do you know it?” He waited for your affirmation. “It’s about a man who is in love with a woman. But he doesn’t tell her. When they meet again after decades, she tells him her life would have been different if she had married him. And you know what he does? He still won’t admit his feelings to her. He walks away from her. The first time he lets her go, the second time he walks away.”

You remembered the book very well. You had picked it out for him, after all.

“It’s a cruel story, Y/N. A love that is never acknowledged, nor consumed.” Loki’s eyes drifted from yours down to your mouth. His finger slowly traced the outline of your lips. It was too much, your eyes closed.

“Do you think love is this cruel?” Loki asked quietly. You felt his words as he spoke them almost onto your skin. So close.

“It-it can be,” you whispered. “But maybe, maybe that wasn’t the point of the story.”

“No?”

You opened your eyes to find him looking at you. He’d moved away a bit, giving you some space, waiting for you to elaborate.

“Maybe the point was to show that he chose his job over love. Twice. You can call it dignity or pride, but at the end he’s alone. Without love.”

“What about you, Y/N? Do you have love in your life?”

You weren’t able to look into his eyes. Slowly, you got off the sofa. You turned back to him to respond to find he’d stood up, too.

You looked down at your shoes. His shoes were black, of course, polished, perfect, like him. Yours were several seasons old. Worn. A bit of the shoe sole had started to peel off at the top of your toes. The bit you always kicked into the floor when you worked.

Your eyes wandered up his trousers, black, to the belt, his pullover, also black. He looked effortlessly elegant, poised. You, on the other hand, looked a mess, even in your work attire. Your heart grew heavy at the realisation. Your dreams were stupid. Turned out your heart was even more stupid. And suddenly you felt incredibly small in more ways than one next to the tall, powerful god.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you said: “I have known love, once. A long time ago.”

With that you pivoted on your heels and left, leaving Loki alone in the common room.

*****

Harris was an absolute tosser.

He just couldn’t leave things be. He insisted on trying to show you up, so he tried and tried to hack his way through your firewalls. Of course he had tried to hide his identity and it had made you chuckle, because you seriously had no idea how he could ever dare call himself a cyber security specialist if he covered up his tracks like a novice hacker.

In a way it was cute, but it was getting to the point of obsessive stalking and you frankly were rather tired of this little game by now. Particularly, since it kept you from your nice, warm, comfortable bed well past midnight.

However, Harris seemed to have changed tactics and started to badmouth you in the industry. Even Fury had called Tony and asked whether he should be worried, because Harris had dug up some hacking you’d done when you were much younger and much less ethical. Really it was unhinged, but everyone worked through teenage years in their own way.

You only knew this because you happened to be in Tony’s office and he had Fury on loudspeaker. Tony had pacified Fury without batting an eye, then hung up and asked if you’d be okay with him paying Harris a little visit, preferably as Iron Man. You had both laughed it off. But it bugged you.

So when you were on your way back to the tower from the compulsory (for all employees) counselling session and someone grabbed you, you weren’t surprised to come face to face with Harris. He didn’t lay a finger on you. No, he got two goons to do that for him.

Later, as you stumbled out of the lift and along the corridor, trying to make your way to your room, someone blocked your way.

“Speak of the devil! Y/N! We were just talking about you.” Tony. Other voices around him.

You kept your head down, thinking of how to get out of this unnoticed.

“We were just wondering if– Y/N? What happened?” You saw Tony’s hand reach out for you, but you flinched away.

Silence fell for a long moment.

Then a movement. Shoes appeared in your line of vision. You knew those shoes well. They had been on display on the couch for the past 22 days, attached to an Asgardian god.

He slowly held out his hand, palm up. An assurance, no harm. You gave the slightest nod. He moved the hand up and placed a finger under your chin so carefully you wanted to sob. The faintest of pressure had you lift your head to look up at Loki. His eyes scanned your appearance, stopping at your bruised hands that were trying to hold together your coat, taking in the blood splatters on the fabric, your busted lip, the lopsided glasses, the badly bent temple dangling off its hinge.

You never understood the expression ‘his features darkened’. You did now. Loki’s face transformed and you saw for the first time what a dangerous man he could be. Power radiated off him. You were glad it was not directed at you. His nostrils flared and you almost heard how much he was clenching his teeth.

“Names,” he ground out.

A hot tear rolled down your cheek and now that it started it didn’t want to stop. His eyes softened, something akin to vulnerability flitting across his features.

“H–Har…”

“Harris?” Tony asked softly. You nodded, still looking at Loki.

Loki rolled his lips in his mouth, his thumb swiping ever so lightly over the skin of your chin, before dropping his hand and walking to the lift in long strides.

“Nat?” Tony asked, the spy already by your side.

“Hold up, Reindeer Games!” Tony hollered behind you, as Romanoff led you down the corridor to your room. “I’m coming, too…”

It felt as if you were having an out of body experience as you were peeled out of your bloodied coat, your clothes and body assessed quickly but gently. She pulled out her phone after she ushered you into the shower.

“Tony? No forced intercourse, but lots of bruising…,” was all you heard before the hot spray of the water ran into your ears, blocking all noise out.

*****

Your glasses were fixed and you could see properly again. That was important, otherwise you wouldn’t have been able to see Harris’ face on the news as he was escorted - handcuffed - from a courtroom and shoved into a police van, followed by the two goons who had helped him.

When you turned from the screen above the cashier, you saw Loki next to Tony across the canteen, looking at you. You walked over, clutching your sandwich.

“So, um… thank you,” you said, gesturing to the screen, “for that.”

Tony put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently, before his eyes gazed behind you. “Is that a double cheeseburger I see? Excuse me.”

And off he went, leaving you alone with the Asgardian god.

You shuffled your feet, studying the floor.

“Thanks again-”

“Are you okay?” 

You both said at the same time. You laughed quietly, looking up at him. He smiled. You’d never seen Loki smile.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you said.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

You wanted to say so much more, do so much more, like hug him. But he was a god. You weren’t exactly sure what the protocol was for hugging gods. The awkward silence thickened.

“So, I’ll see you around?”

He was still smiling. “Yes. See you around.”

You were fairly sure you were blushing as you scampered off, back to your office.

*****

Bryant Park was one of your favourite places to be in New York. For one, it was right behind the public library - your heaven. For another, it was close to the Tower and you could wander the paths under the lovely trees. The park was very busy as it was Christmas Eve and people wanted to while away the time in the Winter Village until the big day. But as the ice rink closed down and the skaters came off, noses and cheeks red from the cold, the park started to empty.

You sat on a bench under one of the trees, gloved hands deep in your coat pockets, a woolly hat and scarf keeping you warm. Your head was tilted back and you watched the snowflakes dance and twirl in the cold wind.

“Y/N,” someone called.

Loki stood a few metres away from you, a black coat making him look even taller. He was not donning a hat or a scarf, he looked comfortable with the cold. The snow clung to his dark hair, a soft dusting was on his shoulders. You envied the snowflakes.

You got to your feet and he took a few steps closer, looking down at you.

“Were you enjoying the activities?” Loki asked, nodding to the ice rink.

“No, I just… I just like to sit here,” you said, feeling a bit silly. “I like the trees and the snow. It’s… peaceful.”

He nodded.

“How about you? Fancied a turn on the ice?”

He laughed and you watched the cloud mix with your breath. Now you envied your breath.

“Actually, I was looking for you.”

“Me?”

He took another step towards you. “Yes.”

“Why? Did something happen at the Tower?” Worriedly, you fumbled your phone out of the coat pocket and checked it.

A large hand covered it. You looked up. “Nothing happened. I wanted to talk to you.”

Nervously, you glanced down at his hand that still covered your phone. If you hadn’t been wearing gloves your hands would have had actual skin on skin contact. He dropped his hand to his side.

“Am I in trouble?”

He shook his head. “I… I wanted to thank you.”

“What for?”

His hand pulled a book out of his pocket. “For this.” He slid it back in the folds of his coat.

“Oh.” You didn’t really know how to feel or react. You knew he’d been onto you, so it was no surprise he’d sussed it out. He was, after all, the God of Mischief and Lies. But you had to give him kudos for letting it play out.

“Um, you’re welcome.” You bit your lip.

“You don’t know what this meant– what this means to me.”

It was impossible to look at him.

“I was dreading this time of year here on Midgard. But your incredibly generous advent calendar made it feel… like when I first visited here with my mother.” He grasped your gloved hands in his. “I miss her dearly, so thank you. For giving me this.”

You were too choked up to say anything, so you just nodded.

“Can I enquire what your reason was?”

It was so cautious, as if he was worried it might scare you off. And yet, the question threw you, most likely because you had been asking yourself the very same thing from the moment of its conception in your shower. It was just there, a need, an urgency you didn’t know where it came from or why it existed. It was something you had to do. Like breathing.

But over the course of the last few weeks, particularly the last few days, it had become painfully clear why you did it.

“I wanted, no, I needed you to be happy.”

He squeezed your hands gently. The tips of his shoes, his shiny, polished shoes, now touched yours.

“Please look at me.”

So you did. He looked different… vulnerable maybe.

“Why do you need me to be happy?” The question was another cloud and you breathed it in, let it fill your lungs.

“Because…” You were afraid to say it, to admit it. But something in his eyes made you courageous. Either that, or foolish.

“Because I watched you, during missions and in briefings and ops planning. You started to believe what they said about you. And it’s not true. There’s so much you don’t share, don’t tell them and I see it. It’s right there in your eyes. And I didn’t want you to lose yourself. And it’s selfish, I know, but I need you to be happy… because if you are, so am I.”

“If you think that’s selfish, then I am guilty of this notion, too.”

Loki raised his right hand to run the backs of his fingers over your cold cheek. “I knew after three days it was you. I wanted to see where this was going, what your motivation was. And I… when I saw you after Harris… I was filled with so much rage and fear. That I would lose you. Before I had you.”

He leaned his forehead against yours, you closed your eyes, heart beating out of your chest at what you were hearing. Was this a dream?

Loki’s voice was just above a whisper. “Can I? Have you?”

You moved away slightly to look into his eyes. “Yes.”

He leaned in, his hands splaying on your back, as you stood on your toes. The moment his lips touched yours, you felt a current run straight to your heart. It was as if your brain rewired, the missing piece of the primer clicked into place and unlocked everything.

Snow was falling as Loki kissed you under the tree. You didn’t hear the whistles and hollering of passerbys. You didn’t feel the cold wind. You felt elated, buzzing even.

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki murmured against your lips.

“Hm?” you said dreamily. 

“Your phone is buzzing,” Loki smiled, “someone’s calling you.”

Quickly you pulled out the damned device. Before you could even say your name, you heard Tony say: “So sorry for disrupting, Y/N, but we got a slight issue here that needs your expert skills pronto.”

You hung up, burying your head in Loki’s chest. His laugh rumbled in his chest. “We’ll talk more later.”

Breathing in his scent and holding onto him, you weren’t ready to let go. “Promise?”

*****

“Oh god, yes,” you sighed in absolute bliss. “That’s the spot, right there.”

Your groan sounded through the kitchen. You deserved that after three hours of extra work on Christmas Eve.

“Here?” Nat asked.

“Yes, yes! Please don’t stop,” you begged, putty in her hands, eliciting more noises from you.

“Maybe you should try yoga. Your shoulders and your whole upper body are so tense and full of knots. There’s a class I go to tomorrow at lunchtime, if you want to join me?”

“No time,” you murmured. “Heavens, Nat, what else can you do with those hands?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Banner interrupted, grabbing Nat by the hand and dragging her to the door. “I’m happy to share my girlfriend’s masseuse skills for a severe case of muscle lock, but I’m afraid I have a personal request now.”

You opened your eyes to catch Nat winking at you, a slight blush on her cheeks as she was pulled out of the room. “So I’m your girlfriend now?” you heard before they disappeared down the corridor.

You laughed and turned in your stool. Thor, Scott and Loki stood staring. Thor at the ends of his braids, Scott at his fingernails, Loki at you. Eyes intense and dark. You swallowed.

“Y/N, a word, if you please,” Loki said, before wrapping his fingers around your wrist and marching out of the room, with you trying to keep up with his long strides, your coat and shoulder bag in your other hand. 

He didn’t say a single word until you reached his room - it was closest - and the door shut behind you, locking the outside world out. He pushed you against the door, arm placed against the wood above your head, body leaning into yours, not quite touching.

“That was… a rather interesting display,” he remarked quietly, his breath puffing against your face as he spoke. “In future, I would prefer if your keening was reserved for me.”

Your hands found the buttons of his shirt. “That sounds like an exclusive right to me.”

“It most certainly is.” His lips hovered over yours.

Your index finger slipped in the space between two buttons. “A right that needs to be earned,” you whispered, your finger grazing his skin.

His breath hitched ever so slightly. “Do not challenge me, darling,” he leaned in, his body moving against yours teasingly. “It might be,” his mouth brushed against your earlobe, “too taxing for you.”

You scoffed, but his lips silenced you. His stance shifted as he picked you up and placed you on the nearest surface - a sideboard - and stepped between your legs. He broke the kiss, to cup your face. For a long moment he just gazed at you. The heat in his eyes seemed to intensify, turning you into a needy mess. He made a show of taking off your glasses, folding the temples and carefully putting them on the side board next to you. Your core clenched.

He held out his hand for you to hop off the furniture. You took it and he took to your lips.

It was quite possible that several things fell off on your way to Loki’s bedroom. When you pushed him into the wall to open the damned buttons of his shirt, a picture might have fallen. A vase, perhaps, when he picked you up and spun you around so your back was against the doorframe next to the fragile ornament. Your head hit the heavy frame of a painting, rendering it lopsided, when Loki feasted on your throat, and you tilted your head back to allow him better access.

Kissing, licking, nipping, sucking - he was intent on leaving marks. Your fingers somehow were in his hair, keeping his head in place. Soft, his hair was so soft. A sharp contrast to the teeth you felt pulling on your skin. His ministrations drew a long moan from you.

Loki smiled against your skin. “Yes, my siren, sing.”

Your back hit the mattress and he crawled over you. His hair a curtain, screening you off from the rest of the world in your own sacred space. His shirt hung open, your hands reached out, tracing each line, each dip. His tongue against yours mimicked the motion of his hips that rolled into you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, meeting each movement, as if you had practised this dance many times before. He pulled away to tug off your pullover. His fingers pushed up your bra and then he sucked your nipple into his hot mouth, making you arch your back.

“Loki, please.”

You didn’t really know what you begged for. More, probably. More of this, more of him.

He pulled you up so you both were kneeling on the bed. Shaking hands fumbled with clothes and fastenings and then you were both naked. Your breath hitched at his beauty.

“Can I…,” you started, voice sounding hoarse. You looked up at him. “Please let me worship you.”

Something flickered across his face - surprise? He gave a curt nod and then watched every single one of your movements.

You took his right hand, tracing each finger with yours, the veins on the back of his hands. You brought his hand up to your face, cradling it to your cheek, before kissing the palm of his hand. One finger at a time, you sucked it into your mouth, to the knuckle, your tongue swirling around the digit, before releasing it and pressing a kiss to the tip, before moving on to the next.

Your hands traced the skin of the inside of his arm, his veins, the rise and fall of his muscles, and up over his shoulder, across his chest to his left arm, which you gave the same treatment. Each birthmark, each scar was kissed. Your hands skimmed over his chest, your lips followed the path. Loki’s breath stuttered when you sucked on his left nipple, before you released it, softly blowing on it. It puckered. You bestowed the same treatment upon the other nipple.

“Please, lie down,” you whispered and he complied.

You lay next to him, kissing his forehead, your fingers running through his hair along his scalp, gently tugging. Onwards, to kiss the curve of each eyebrow, the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones, his chin, along his jawline to his ear. You felt his body shiver when you breathed: “You are so beautiful, inside and out.”

Then your teeth closed around his earlobe, gently pulling. A deep moan sounded through the room. Up until now he had let you do whatever you wanted to and not touched you. But his restraint waned and his hands splayed on your back, pulling you flush against his body. You kept going, your lips now worshipping his delectable throat. He tilted his head back to give you better access.

“Herregud,” he rasped as you kissed, licked and sucked on his sensitive skin. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard, his hands growing slack on your back.

You kissed the dip between his collar bones and worked your way down his torso, lips kissing, hands caressing. Further and further you went, along his abs, dipping in his belly button, following the trail of hair below. You leaned back a bit, to look at him. He was fully erect, heavy, swaying slightly. The purple mushroom head gleaming with pearls of pre-cum, thick veins running down the shaft to his pubic hair.

You licked your lips, curling one of your hands around his base, the other cupping his testacles. Then you looked up at him. He was up on his elbows, staring down at you hotly, biting his lips as he watched you in anticipation. You made sure to have and maintain eye contact and then you took him into your mouth.

He hissed, his head falling back, a loud moan following when you hollowed your cheeks to apply suction, the salty taste of his precum on your tongue.

You moved your hand up his length, still sucking, giving his testicles a gentle yet confident squeeze. Up your mouth went, your tongue circling his slit, before sucking him back in. The third time you did it, his hands clasped your shoulders.

“Stop.”

You looked up at him. Loki was breathing hard and you let his cock slide from your mouth with a wet ‘plop’.

In an instant your back was on the mattress and he hovered over you.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” he explained, voice rough, “I loved it, but I have plans.”

He settled between your legs, eyes locked on yours, hand on your thigh, pulling your leg around his waist. His hand slid up, splaying over the fullness of your ass, before giving it a firm squeeze, then sliding over the globe and dipping between your legs. When his slender digits made contact with your aching centre, you cried out. Your whole body was throbbing with need.

“All this nectar is for me?” he rasped. 

You nodded.

“Oh, I have to see this.” And in one fluid motion he sat back on his heels, spreading your legs with his hands, looking at your dripping wet centre in amazement.

“Wait a moment,” he said, before he scrambled off the bed and disappeared in the corridor, only to come back a few moments later to resume his place between your legs. He handed you something with a smirk. Your glasses.

“I want you to see me.”

You put them on, your heartbeat accelerating. You bit your lip in anticipation. He looked up at you, his hot breath puffing against your wet core and then his flat tongue licked you all the way from your entrance to your clit. Your fingers fisted in the bedsheets, eyes falling shut in ecstasy, mouth open in a silent cry.

“Look at me.”

You did. He started a rhythm of licking, sucking and lapping that had the coil inside you wind up and tighten impossibly in no time at all. You fell back onto a pillow. Then he slid two fingers inside you and your hands dove into his hair, tugging, scraping.

What a visual. Loki between your legs, eyes burning into yours, humming and moaning against your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you, curling just at the right time, at the exact angle you needed. It was as if you were a book he’d read a thousand times before. Your toes curled and then you fell into the abyss. You moaned out his name over and over as the orgasm washed over you, leaving your legs shaking.

Loki moved up your body, placing kisses on your thighs, your tummy, your breasts, before he brushed some hair out of your face. You took your glasses off, he placed them on the bedside table. His eyes searched yours.

“I need you, Loki,” you managed, pulling him down.

He kissed you deeply, slowly, the taste of you on his tongue. His hips rocked forward and he slid inside you all the way to the hilt. Loki stilled and broke the kiss, resting his damp forehead against yours.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

Your fingers caressed his back. Unable to form words, you nodded. Then he moved. His hips rocked into yours in slow, deep thrusts. He filled you so well, stimulating places inside you you didn’t know existed. Your hands ran over his back, down his sides, making him shiver. He watched you, eyes dark but warm. One hand found your swollen clit and his fingers circled and rubbed, applying the pressure you needed to fall into oblivion again. Your feet pressed into his ass cheeks to bring him closer, deeper and his name fell from your lips over and over.

He rocked inside you as you rode out your orgasm. You opened your eyes to look at him in wonder. Never had you seen anything as beautiful as Loki. He seemed to glow from the inside. Maybe it was your imagination. You lifted your head, cupping his face to pull him in for a kiss. His tongue moved languidly against yours, savouring the intimacy.

Then he started moving faster, pulling one of your legs up to rest the calf against his shoulder. Deeper, you wanted him deeper. You couldn’t get close enough. His mouth was devouring yours in a needy kiss, all tongues and teeth now as he pistoned faster into you, your hips meeting each of his thrusts. His lips found your nipple, sucking, pulling on it, moving to its sibling. You couldn’t believe you were on the verge again already. Never before had you been able to orgasm more than once during intercourse.

The room was quiet but for the moans, the heavy breathing. You were so wet that your coupling’s noise was wonderfully dirty, edging you both on even more.

“Look at us,” Loki commanded and you did.

Nothing had ever been so erotic as watching him fill you, stretch you, sliding out, covered in your juices. His fingers were on your clit again, rubbing, circling.

“I don’t know if I can…”

“One more, darling, give me one more,” he insisted, breathlessly.

His hips moved faster, as did his fingers and you were there, on the edge. Loki’s eyes met yours and he knew. His movements stuttered, pupils fully blown, jaw slack, a drop of sweat sliding down his temple.

“Cum with me,” you whispered, your fingers dragging down his back, possibly breaking skin, squeezing and pulling his ass into you.

And he did, propelling you into bliss with him. Your name fell from his lips in a string of Norse profanities. His cock pulsated as the hot ropes of his seed marked your insides as his, your pussy eagerly clenching around him, making sure every last drop would be spent inside you. His movements slowed and then he stilled, buried inside you.

Loki’s lips pressed onto yours in a tender kiss. You stayed in the embrace until you both caught your breath. Then he pulled out of you, your mixed juices running out of you. He could have cleaned you up using magic.

But Loki got out of bed, got a wet flannel from the bathroom and gently cleaned you, kissing your tired body, before sliding back into bed. He pulled you into his arms, your hands joined over his heart, legs intertwined and you both lay there, in your bubble of utter and complete happiness under warm covers, watching the snowflakes dance outside the window in the early hours of Christmas Day.

Christmas Day!

“Oh, wait here!”

You scrambled off the bed and ran to the door, forgetting about your nakedness, pulling your shoulder bag from under your coat. You pulled something from it and brought it back to Loki. He was sitting up, forearms resting on his knees, an intrigued look on his face. 

“Merry Christmas,” you said.

He looked at you and then at the present you held out to him. He cocked an eyebrow as he took it and pulled the fabric ribbon off. His hands parted the paper and then he grew completely still.

“Where in the nine realms did you get this?” he asked after a few moments, voice sounding rough.

“A friend of mine got her hands on this a while back. I thought you might like it.”

He stared at the book, transfixed. His slender fingers caressing the embossed letters on the front and then he lifted it to take in the scent of the pages. His eyes closed.

“Do you? Like it, I mean?” You were worried about this book. It had cost an arm and a leg, but you thought it would be worth it.

“Like it?” Loki asked, finally looking at you and pulling you on his lap. “My mother used to read me his poems when I was a child. I rediscovered it later. This is…”

He was searching for words, failed to find them and instead kissed you, hard, hand fisting in your hair. After a long moment, he broke the kiss.

“Thank you, love.”

Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, stroking his pulse point.

“Will you read it to me?” you asked, a bit out of breath.

Nodding, he sat against the headboard, you curled up against him with his arm around you. He made sure you were both tucked under the covers. Then he opened the book and cleared his throat.

“Kormákr Ӧgmundarson ‘Sigurðardrápa ‘Drápa’. This is one of my favourites, he wrote it for the love of his life.”

His fingers wandered up your arm.

“Brunnu beggja kinna

bjǫrt ljós á mik drósar,

oss hlœgir þat eigi,

eldhúss of við felldan.”

His digits absently stroked your ribcage, skirting over the side of your breast. The rhythm and intonation of his deep voice made you clench your thighs.

“Enn til ǫkkla svanna

ítrvaxins gatk líta,

þrǫ́ muna oss of ævi

eldask, hjá þreskeldi.”

He paused, closing the book and brushing his lips against the skin of your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut.

“What-what does he say?” you all but stuttered.

Loki kissed along your collarbone. Humming against your skin.

“The bright lights of both

her cheeks burned onto me

from the fire-hall's felled wood;

no cause of mirth for me in that.”

His hands cupped your breasts as he sucked and teased one of the nipples. Your hands tugged on his hair, desperate for him again already. You felt his need hard and heavy against your thigh.

“By the threshold I gained a glance

at the ankles of this girl

of glorious shape.”

Loki moved to lie between your legs, hands sliding over your breasts, your tummy, your thigh, down to your ankle, lifting it to wrap it around his hips.

“Yet while I live

that longing will never leave me.”

His voice faltered as he rocked his hips forward and your bodies were joined once more.

“That longing will never leave me,” he repeated like a vow, eyes serious and warm.

“Nor me,” you pledged, before you lost yourselves in the physical expression of your feelings once more.

~ fin ~

[beautyofaphrodite]

Homeric Hymn to Aphrodite

Translated by Gregory Nagy

Muse, tell me the things done by golden Aphrodite,

the one from Cyprus, who arouses sweet desire for gods

and who subdues the races of mortal humans,

and birds as well, who fly in the sky, as well as all beasts

5 —all those that grow on both dry land and the sea [pontos].

They all know the things done by the one with the beautiful garlands, the one from Kythera.

But there are three whose phrenes she cannot win over or deceive.

The first is the daughter of aegis-bearing Zeus, bright-eyed Athena.

For she takes no pleasure in the things done by golden Aphrodite.

10 What does please her is wars and what is done by Ares,

battles and fighting, as well as the preparation of splendid pieces of craftsmanship.

For she was the first to teach mortal humans to be craftsmen

in making war-chariots and other things on wheels, decorated with bronze.

And she it is who teaches maidens, tender of skin, inside the palaces,

15 the skill of making splendid pieces of craftsmanship, putting it

firmly into each one’s mind [phrên].

The second is the renowned Artemis, she of the golden shafts: never

has she been subdued in lovemaking [philotês] by Aphrodite, lover of smiles [to whom smiles are phila].

For she takes pleasure in the bow and arrows, and the killing of wild beasts in the mountains,

as well as lyres, groups of singing dancers, and high-pitched shouts of celebration.

20 Also shaded groves and the city of dikaioi men.

The third one not to take pleasure in the things done by Aphrodite is that young Maiden full of aidôs,

Hestia, who was the first-born child of Kronos, the one with the crooked mêtis,

as well as the last and youngest, through the Will [boulê] of Zeus, holder of the aegis.

She was the Lady who was wooed by Poseidon and Apollo.

25 But she was quite unwilling, and she firmly refused.

She had sworn a great oath, and what she said became what really happened.

She swore, as she touched the head of her father Zeus, the aegis-bearer,

that she would be a virgin for all days to come, that illustrious goddess.

And to her Father Zeus gave a beautiful honor, as a compensating substitute for marriage.

30 She is seated in the middle of the house, getting the richest portion.

And in all the temples of the gods she has a share in the tîmê.

Among all the mortals, she is the senior goddess.

These are the three [goddesses] that she [Aphrodite] could not persuade in their phrenes.

As for all the rest, there is nothing that has escaped Aphrodite:

35 none of the blessed gods nor any of mortal humans.

She even led astray the noos of Zeus, the one who delights in the thunder,

the one who is the very greatest and the one who has the very greatest tîmê as his share.

But even his well-formed phrenes are deceived by her, whenever she wants,

as she mates him with mortal women with the greatest of ease,

40 unbeknownst to Hera, his sister and wife,

who is the best among all the immortal goddesses in her great beauty.

She was the most glorious [kudos-filled] female to be born to Kronos, the one with the crooked mêtis,

and to her mother, Rhea. And Zeus, the one whose resources are inexhaustible [a-phthi-ta],

made her his honorable wife, one who knows the ways of affection.

45 But even upon her [Aphrodite] Zeus put sweet desire in her thûmos

—desire to make love to a mortal man, so that

not even she may go without mortal lovemaking

and get a chance to gloat at all the other gods,

with her sweet laughter, Aphrodite, lover of smiles,

50 boasting that she can make the gods sleep with mortal women,

who then bear mortal sons to immortal fathers,

and how she can make the goddesses sleep with mortal men.

And so he [Zeus] put sweet desire in her thûmos—desire for Anchises.

At that time, he [Anchises] was herding cattle at the steep peaks of Mount Ida, famous for its many springs.

55 To look at him and the way he was shaped was like looking at the immortals.

When Aphrodite, lover of smiles, saw him,

she fell in love with him. A terrible desire seized her in her phrenes.

She went to Cyprus, entering her temple fragrant with incense,

to Paphos. That is where her sacred precinct is, and her altar, fragrant with incense.

60 She went in and closed the shining doors.

Then the Kharites [‘Graces’] bathed her and anointed her with oil

—the kind that gives immortality, glistening on the complexion of the gods, who last for all time.

Immortal it was, giver of pleasures, and it had the fragrance of incense.

Then she wrapped all her beautiful clothes around her skin.

65 She was decked out in gold, Aphrodite, lover of smiles.

She rushed toward Troy, leaving behind fragrant Cyprus.

Making her way with the greatest of ease, high up among the clouds.

She arrived at Mount Ida, famous for its many springs, nurturing mother of beasts.

She went straight for the herdsmen’s homestead, up over the mountain. Following her came

70 gray wolves and lions with fierce looks, fawning on her;

bears too, and nimble leopards, who cannot have their fill of devouring deer,

came along. Seeing them, she was delighted in her thûmos, inside her phrenes,

and she put desire where their hearts were. So they all

went off in pairs and slept together in shaded nooks.

75 She in the meantime came to the well-built shelters

and found him [Anchises] left all alone at the herdsmen’s homestead,

that hero [hêrôs] Anchises, who had the beauty of the gods.

All the others [the other herdsmen] went after the herds, along the grassy pastures,

while he was left all alone at the herdsmen’s homestead,

80 pacing back and forth, playing tunes on his lyre that pierce the inside.

She stood before him, the daughter of Zeus, Aphrodite,

looking like an unwed maiden in size of length and appearance.

She did not want him to notice [verb of noos] her with his eyes and be frightened of her.

When Anchises saw her he was filled with wonder as he took note

85 of her appearance and size of length and splendid clothes.

For she wore a robe that was more resplendent than the brightness of fire.

She had twisted brooches, and shiny earrings in the shape of flowers.

Around her tender throat were the most beautiful necklaces.

It [her robe] was a thing of beauty, golden, decorated with every sort of design. Like the moon

90 it glowed all around her tender breasts, a marvel to behold.

Seized with love, Anchises said to her:

“Hail, my Lady, you who come here to this home, whichever of the blessed ones you are,

Artemis or Leto or golden Aphrodite

or Themis of noble birth or bright-eyed Athena.

95 Or perhaps you are one of the Kharites, you who have come here. They are the ones

who keep company with all the gods and are called immortal.

Or you are one of those Nymphs who range over beautiful groves,

or one of those Nymphs who inhabit this beautiful mountain,

and the fountainheads of rivers and grassy meadows.

100 For you, on some high peak, in a spot with a view going all round,

I will set up an altar, and I will perform for you beautiful sacrifices

every year as the season [hôrâ] comes round. And I wish that you in turn may have a kindly-disposed thûmos towards me.

Grant that I become a man who is distinguished among the Trojans.

Make the genealogy that comes after me become a flourishing one. And make me

105 live a very long life and see the light of the sun,

blessed [olbios] in the midst of the people. And let me arrive at the threshold of old age.”

Then Aphrodite, daughter of Zeus, answered him:

“Anchises, most glorious of earth-born men!

I am no goddess. Why do you liken me to the female immortals?

110 No, I am a mortal. The mother that bore me was a woman.

My father is Otreus, famed for his name. Maybe you have heard of him.

He rules over all of Phrygia, with its strong-walled fortresses.

But I know your language as well as my own.

The nursemaid who brought me up in the palace was a Trojan. Ever since I was a small child,

115 she brought me up, having taken me from my philê mother.

That is why I know your language as well as my own.

But then, the one with the golden wand, the Argos-killer [Hermes], abducted me,

taking me from a festival of song and dance in honor of Artemis, the one with the golden arrows.

There were many of us nymphs there, maidens worth many cattle as bride-price.

120 We were having a good time, and a crowd so large that you couldn’t count them was standing around us in a circle.

Then it was that the one with the golden wand, the Argos-killer, abducted me.

He carried me over many fields of mortal humans

and over vast stretches of land unclaimed and unsettled, where wild beasts,

eaters of raw flesh, roam about, in and out of their shaded lairs.

125 I thought that my feet would never again touch the earth, grower of grain.

And he [Hermes] said that I, in your bed, the bed of Anchises, would be called your

lawfully-wedded wife, and that I would give you splendid children.

But once he [Hermes] pointed this out and made note of it, straightaway

he went back, that powerful Argos-killer, to that separate group, the immortals.

130 I in the meantime reached you here, and there is an overpowering compulsion that I have in me.

In the name of Zeus, in the name of your parents, I appeal to you as I touch your knees.

Your parents must be noble, for base ones could never have conceived such a one as you.[12]

Take me, virgin that I am, inexperienced in making love [philotês ],

and show me to your father and to your caring mother

135 and to your brothers, those born from the same parents.

I will not be an unseemly in-law for them, but a seemly one indeed.

And send a messenger quickly to the Phrygians, trainers of swift horses,

to tell my father and my mother, however much she grieves.

They will send you plenty of gold, and woven clothing as well.

140 Take these abundant and splendid things as dowry.

After you have done so, prepare a lovely wedding-feast

that gives tîmê to both humans and immortals.”

After she said these things, she put sweet desire in his thûmos,

and Anchises was seized with love. He said these words, calling out to her:

145 “If you are mortal, and if a woman was the mother who gave birth to you,

and if Otreus is your father, famed for his name, as you say he is,

and if you have come here because of the Immortal Conductor [of psûkhai],

Hermes, and if you are to be called my wife for all days to come,

then it is impossible for any god or any mortal human

150 to hold me back, right here, from joining with you in making love [philotês],

right now, on the spot—not even if the one who shoots from afar, Apollo himself,

takes aim from his silver bow and shoots his arrows that bring misery.

Then, O lady who looks like the gods, I would willingly,

once I have been in your bed, go down into the palace of Hades below.”

155 So saying, he took her by the hand. And Aphrodite, lover of smiles,

went along, with her face turned away and her eyes downcast,

towards the bed, all nicely made, which had already been arranged for the lord,[13]

all nicely made with soft covers.[14] And on top lay skins of

bears and lions, who roar with their deep voices,

160 which he himself had killed on the lofty mountainsides.

And when they went up into the sturdy bed,

he first took off the jewelry shining on the surface of her body

—the twisted brooches and the shiny earrings in the shape of flowers.

Then he undid her girdle and her resplendent garments.

165 He stripped them off and put them on a silver-studded stool,

Anchises did. And then, by the will of the gods and by fate [aisa],

he lay next to the immortal female, mortal male that he was. He did not know what he was really doing.

But when the time comes for herdsmen to drive back to the fold

their cattle and sturdy sheep, back from the flowery pastures,

170 then it was that she [Aphrodite] poured sweet sleep over Anchises,

sweet and pleasurable. She in the meantime put back on her beautiful clothes, which covered again the surface of her body.

Now that her skin was again beautifully covered over, the resplendent goddess

stood by the bed, and the well-built roof-beam

—her head reached that high up.[15] And beauty shone forth from her cheeks

175 —an immortal beauty, the kind that marks the one with the beautiful garlands, the goddess from Kythera.

Then she woke him from his sleep and called out to him, saying:

“Rise up, son of Dardanos! Why do you sleep such a sleep without awakening?

See if I look like

what you noticed [verb of noos] when you first saw me with your eyes.”

180 So she spoke, and he, fresh out of his sleep, straightaway heeded her word.

As soon as he saw the neck and the beautiful eyes of Aphrodite,

he was filled with fright and he turned his eyes away, in another direction.

Then he hid his beautiful face with a cloak [khlaina],

and, praying to her, addressed her with winged words:

185 “The first time I ever laid eyes on you, goddess,

I knew you were a god. But you did not speak to me accurately.

Now I appeal to you by touching your knees, in the name of Zeus the holder of the aegis,

don’t let me become disabled [without menos],[16] don’t let me live on like that among humans!

Please, take pity! I know that no man is full of life, able,[17]

190 if he sleeps with immortal goddesses.”

He was answered by the daughter of Zeus, Aphrodite:

“Anchises, most glorious of mortal humans!

Take heart, and do not be too afraid in your phrenes.

You should have no fear of that I would do any kind of bad thing to you,

195 or that any of the the other blessed ones would. For you are philos indeed to the gods.

And you will have a philos son, who will be king among the Trojans.

And following him will be generations after generations for all time to come.

His name will be Aineias [Aeneas], since it was an unspeakable [ainos][18] akhos that took hold of me—grief that I had fallen into the bed of a mortal man.

200 And yet, of all mortal humans, the closest to the gods by far

are those who come from your family line,[19] both in looks and in constitution.[20]

Why, there was blond Ganymede, whom Zeus the master of mêtis

abducted on account of his beauty, so that he may be together with the immortal ones,

as wine-pourer for the gods in the palace of Zeus,[21]

205 a wonder to behold, given his share of tîmê by all the immortals,

pouring red nectar from a golden mixing-bowl.

Tros [Ganymede’s father] was gripped in his phrenes by a penthos that is beyond forgetting. He did not know

where the miraculous gust of wind took his philos son, abducting him.

He [Tros] mourned him [Ganymede] without pause, for all days,

210 and Zeus took pity on him: he gave him a compensation for his son,

a set of high-stepping horses whom the gods use for their travels.

These horses he [Zeus] gave him [Tros] as a gift to keep. And he [Tros] was told all the details of what happened,

at the behest of Zeus, by the Argos-killer, the Conductor [of psûkhai].

He was told that he [Ganymede] would be immortal and ageless, just like the gods.

215 And when he [Tros] heard the message of Zeus,

he no longer lamented but was happy within his phrenes,

and merrily did he ride around, in a chariot drawn by horses with feet swift as a gust of wind,

In much the same way was Tithonos abducted by Eos [the Dawn Goddess], she of the golden embroidery.

He too belonged to your family line, looking like the immortal ones.

220 Then she went with a request to the Son of Kronos [Zeus], him of the dark clouds,

asking that he [Tithonos] become immortal and live for all days to come.

Zeus nodded yes to her and brought to fulfillment the words of her wish.

Too bad that her thinking was disconnected! The Lady Eos did not notice [verb of noos] in her phrenes

that she should have asked for adolescence [hêbê] and a stripping away of baneful old age.

225 Well, for a while he [Tithonos] held on to adolescence [hêbê] ,

enjoying Eos, the one with the gold embroidery, the one early-born.

He lived at the streams of the Okeanos, and the ends of the earth.

But when the first strands of gray hair started growing

from his beautiful head and his noble chin,

230 then the Lady Eos stopped coming to his bed.

But she nourished him, keeping him in her palace,

with grain and ambrosia. And she gave him beautiful clothes.

But when hateful old age was pressing hard on him, with all its might,

and he couldn’t move his limbs, much less lift them up,

235 then in her thûmos she thought up this plan, a very good one indeed:

she put him in her chamber, and she closed the shining doors over him.

From there his voice pours out—it seems never to end—and he has no strength at all,

the kind he used to have in his limbs when they could still bend.

I would not choose that you [Anchises] be that way, amongst the immortal ones,

240 immortal and living for all days to come.[25]

If you could only stay the way you are, in looks and constitution,

staying alive as my lawfully-wedded husband,

then akhos would not have to envelop me and my sturdy phrenes.

But now wretched old age will envelop you,

245 pitilessly, just as it catches up with every man.

It is baneful, it wears you down, and even the gods shrink back from it.

As for me, I will have a great disgrace [oneidos], in the eyes of the immortal ones,

a disgrace that will last for all days to come, without end, all on account of you.

My trysts and stratagems [mêtis pl.] with which I used to get all

250 the immortal gods mated with mortal women,

used to be feared by them [the gods]. For my power of noos used to subdue all of them.

But now my mouth can never again boast

about this among the immortals. I have gone very far off the track,

in a wretched and inexcusable way. I have strayed from my noos.

255 I got myself a child beneath my girdle, having slept with a male mortal.

As for him [the child], the moment he sees the light of the sun,

Nymphs, living in the mountains and wearing low-slung girdles, will raise him

—Nymphs that live on this great and fertile mountain.

They associate neither with mortals nor with immortals,

260 they live for a long time, and they eat immortal food.

They put on a beautiful song and dance, even by the standards of the immortals.

They mate with Seilênoi or with the sharp-sighted Argos-killer,

making love [philotês] in the recesses of lovely caves.

When they are born, firs and oaks with lofty boughs

265 spring out of the earth, that nurturer of men.

Beautiful trees, flourishing on high mountains,

they stand there pointing to the sky, and people call them the sacred places

of the immortal ones. Mortals may not cut them down with iron.

But when the fate [moira] of death is at hand for them,

270 these beautiful trees become dry, to start with,

and then their bark wastes away, and then the branches drop off,

and, at the same time, the psûkhê goes out of them, as it leaves the light of the sun.

These [the Nymphs] will raise my son, keeping him in their company.

And when adolescence [hêbê], full of loveliness, first takes hold of him,

275 the goddesses [the Nymphs] will take him here to you and show you your child.

As for you, in order that I may tell you in the proper order everything that I have in my phrenes,

I too will come back to you as the fifth anniversary approaches, bringing you your son.

And the moment you see this young seedling [Aineias/Aeneas] with your eyes,

you will be happy to look at him. For he will be very godlike.

280 And straightaway you shall take him to windy Ilion.

And if any mortal human asks you

what mother got your philos son beneath her girdle,

keep in mind [root mnê-] to tell him as I command you.

Say that he is the offspring of one of the flower-faced Nymphs

285 who live on this beautiful mountain, shaded over by forests.

But if you say out loud and boast, with a thûmos bereft of phrenes,

that you made love [philotês] to the Lady of Kythera, the one with the beautiful garlands,

then Zeus in his anger will smite you with a smoking thunderbolt.

Now then, everything has been said to you. You take note [verb of noos] in your phrenes.

290 And refrain from naming me. Avoid the mênis of the gods.”

So saying, she bolted away towards the windy sky.

I wish you kharis [‘I wish you pleasure and happiness from our relationship, starting now’], goddess, you who rule over beautifully-colonized Cyprus.

Having started with you, I will now go on to the rest of my performance.

[happylittleshrub]

Rocket Plushie Review

My thoughts on Rocket plushies! I only own some of these so for those I'll go into a little more detail, but most of this is just based on vibes lol

This isn't in any sort of ranking or order

I love this one! His fur feels so soft and he sits on my desk and keeps me company. Reminds me of Pokemon's "Sitting Cuties" line of plushes. Sometimes he'll fall over a little but that's really only if he's sitting on a more uneven surface like a bed or sofa, on my desk he sits fine

This one looks like one of those Littlest Pet Shop toys. So many of the other Rocket plushies look good I don't know what happened here.

Sweet, sleepy boy I love to cuddle him ❤️ Both huggable and snuggable. My sleep has improved 120% since getting him 10/10 would recommend

This is my son my precious little child I love him I want the world for him he is the greatest thing in all of existence. He is so very soft and the perfect size to hug and to hold. ❤️

This is the first Rocket plush I ever got he is very special to me 🥹 I like the chibified design, very adorable! He does have a hard time sitting up on his own because of his disproportionately sized head, I usually have to lean him against something. His ears are velvety soft!

Tiny gremlin, an actual creature. He is full of bad ideas. I like that he comes with a tiny gun

This one looks kind of like a dog more so than a raccoon. Maybe it's just this picture. Idk he still cute tho

This one is good but something about his eyes feels a little off. I don't know if I trust him

Absolutely adorable! He has Animal Crossing vibes. I would buy him but he's over forty dollars 🙃

This one is cute but uh... this is legally distinct off-brand Rocket Wolf not Rocket Raccoon

He is 100% friend shaped I love him I want to give him a hug

"I can't believe I'm taking orders from a hamster." -Some Nova Corps Guy. I like this little dude, he's smol and squishy like a marshmallow!

This one is cute, but I do kinda wish his face wasn't so flat, otherwise no notes

This is so adorable wth you can carry Rocket around on your back like he's a sleepy little child I love it

Bro's lookin' like a finger puppet. He's very small and cute!

This Rocket looks like he needs some love. Well, that's all Rockets but especially this one. Looks like he'd be standing alone a street corner somewhere. Someone needs to bring him home and make him soup

I feel like this one should be the reference image next to the word Blorbo in a dictionary. This is the embodiment of blorbo and all other blorbos should bow to him

Shadow the Hedgehog wannabe. Gritty 90s reboot edgelord

This Rocket is smiling but I feel like he's screaming on the inside while this rando pulls on his ears

Football Head here stares into my soul. He can and will beat me up

Cute but not the best. I'd probably put him in a B-Tier (Shrub, you said you weren't going to do rankings!)

Adorable little guy! He has tiny magnets in his hands with which to hold batteries and other stolen items. You can also buy little outfits for these types of plushies so 20/10! During the colder months I let him ride around in my hoodie ^-^

This one is up to no good I love the mischief in his expression lol

I love Disney Tsum Tsum so this little peanut is an absolute winner in my book

"Until a second ago I thought you were a build-a-bear."

"MAYBE I AM"

He's so sweet and adorable would absolutely bring him home and love him forever (would be even better if he came with sound like some build-a-bears do)

WHO PUT HIM IN THE DRYER???

The way they did his eyes reminds me of Spiderman

He's a sweet boy he just needs someone looking out for him and to be his conscience and stop him from stealing batteries 💛

FERAL

Bro's got them sparkly anime eyes. Also sideburns

Alright I've reached the photo limit so that's all for now. If you read all the way down here thanks for checking out my silly ramblings!

[sass-ruby]

Gosh- THIS EPISODE

For me, it felt like there needed to be something more.. I dunno, it just felt empty? And by empty, I mean what nexus said. Like his insults and actions.. it's kinda weird to me. You're telling me this is the SAME person who hijacked moon's head and tortured him, making him relieve his worst memories? He sounds so pathetic, and cringe at the moment, ESPECIALLY with his "I AM GOD!" complex.

Though, the "I'm sorry" from sun was HEARTBREAKING. In my opinion, it isn't sun's fault. He went through so much, and had no time to grieve because the new moon already showed up. Just imagine being in sun's place, a close family member you've known more than 10+ years dies and you get no time to grieve? It'd be fricking difficult. Also, I believe nexus is still a moon. He may claim that he's different but, he's almost the same stubborn, hateful moon. (Not talking about sun's moon, most moons in general). That's why sun said, "you're not worse than moon- hell you're not even better!"

Another thing I noticed, he seemed way more vulnerable with sun. Yelled at him for dealing with him wrongly (him being a replacement) and such. He is definitely hurt. To me, he seemed like a hurt, angry teenager yelling at his parents for doing him wrong and making him hateful, vengeful, a monster. It genuinely felt like a cry for help of some sorts

It's interesting to me that moon was scared of Nexus, and of death. Before his death, he didn't care. But now, he's scared which his reason was that he didn't want to put his family through the same thing. I think it's because of the qna episode.. Sun confirmed that when moon died, he just cried. It probably made him feel guilt of some sorts.

Oh, a thing to mention, I LOVE HOW RUIN TRIED TO KEEP SUN SAFE. In my eyes, ruin being scared is all an act. He has been through SO much worse, as well as destroying 5000+ dimensions so why would this scare him? I think he's trying to help sun and moon, because if he acts scared, no one would suspect him, right? He did leave a hint, which helped sun and moon find sun's² dimension. And he even told them "I'm not scared for me, I'm scared for you."

Ruin is a clever character, who has many tricks up his sleeve. He's great at tricking people, he is the world's greatest actor after all! (Get the reference?)

He surely has some sort of plan, or at least an outline of it.

EEEEEE I LOVE HIM SM, I CAN'T WAIT FOR WHAT HAPPENS IN THE FUTURE

5 more days until october

[randomfoggytiger]

1998: Gillian Anderson and Her Family

Gillian Anderson is strongly protective of her 4-year-old daughter, Piper. Says Anderson’s mother, Rosemary, “Motherhood has been enormously healthy for her. She’s more secure.”

Five years ago, a 24-year-old Gillian Anderson walked onto the set of The X-Files a virtual unknown....

No longer the sidekick, Gillian (pronounced “Jillian”) Anderson has watched her popularity propel her to the top tier of her profession, financially and artistically....

At the same time, she is struggling to maintain her balance, with a non-stop workload, frenzied fans and a 4-year-old daughter. “The only thing I care about,” she says, sitting in her trailer one evening during an X-Files shoot, “is that I’m perceived as a hard worker. This is what I love to do. This is my job.”

...“She certainly has established herself as an equal partner” on The X-Files, says her mother, Rosemary, a computer specialist who lives in Grand Rapids, Mich. “When she first started, I think, she was more frightened than she tried to show. But I also think her talents meshed with the writers’, and it’s becoming more of a vehicle for her. For a while there, she used to joke that she didn’t have much to say except, ‘What do you think it is, Mulder?’ ”

...Her daughter, Piper Maru, is a fixture on the X-Files set, and on this day is being carried around piggyback by the actress. The cherubic child, with her straight bangs and tiny rain boots, has been adopted by the cast and crew and often raids the prop truck for bloodied fake hands to wave about.

Anderson shares custody with her estranged husband, former X-Files assistant art director Clyde Klotz. The actress herself admitted she was difficult to be married to — it lasted less than three years — because of her strong will and fierce ambition. There is no doubt that Anderson is focused, and single-minded. On the set, she is highly professional and self-protective. While gossips would love to play up a feud between her and Duchovny, the truth is more complex. They seem to have a symbiotic, if somewhat strained, rapport, and they retreat to separate trailers during shooting breaks....

Born in Chicago to Rosemary and Edward Anderson, Gillian accompanied the family to Puerto Rico before settling in London, where her father studied film production. Her mother says she was adventurous and welcomed “new experiences.”

“One of my very favorite stories happened when we were in London,” Rosemary Anderson recalls. “It was her first day of nursery school. Her father was taking her down the stairs and she looked back up at me, saw my face and said, ‘Don’t cry, Mom.’ She was fine. I was not.”

After nine years, the Andersons returned to America and settled in Grand Rapids.

“By the time I was 11, I had been on 40-some planes,” the actress says, lighting another cigarette. “I remember my parents taking me to parties a lot. Running around, then falling asleep. Having my pajamas on and being carried to the car. … Some of my greatest memories are of them shoving me in the back of a VW Bug and sleeping on the way home.”

Now, her mother says, having a child has changed Anderson. It’s been “enormously healthy for her. I marvel that she can juggle that insane schedule. And she’s definitely become more secure, as an actress and as a parent. I think it makes her more serene.”

Anderson confirms that. “Your life lands on a plateau of seriousness all of a sudden, and things become more weighty. Since I’ve had Piper, I’ve been a much happier person. She is the most important thing. That’s what I think of first.”

...Doing the show, which requires 16-hour days 10 months of the year, has been grueling, and Anderson says her biggest fear is “insanity.” (She was previously quoted as calling her stint in Vancouver “a death sentence,” which did not go over well with Carter.)

She takes a sip of bottled water. “I think a big fear, too, is experiencing pain that will not end. I know pain, and I also know that it passes. But I guess when I’m in that, one of my fears is that it won’t end.”

Another real fear is being adored to death. Last summer, while shooting the X-Files feature film — reportedly a $60 million project — she was stalked by paparazzi trying to snap her with Piper at a playground. “In one area,” she says, “there were so many converging on me at once that the whole shopping area got together and talked to the sheriff’s department, and they were no longer allowed in that area. It makes me furious.”

Another fear is more insidious: self-destruction, as exemplified by her faux pas at the Emmys. Or her reluctance to fully embrace her current stardom. “I have to look at how I may have been involved in creating situations in my life,” she says. “How much can I not accept good things in my life? That I have to perhaps subconsciously create something that immediately shows me I’m not …”

Her voice trails off. She seems smaller, and more fragile, than her X-Files character.

A nagging sense, after all this time and hard work, of not deserving her current success?

She exhales a stream of cigarette smoke and lets a small smile cross her face. “Ultimately,” she sighs, “it probably is.”

-February 1998

[leclerc-s]

mastermind - part one

series masterlist // next

MONACO 2024

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton, logansargeant and others

aurorabutton a little pre-monaco grand prix dump featuring father dearest being a menace and saturn being the best boy ever

tagged: jensonbutton

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fernandoalo_oficial your father has never looked better than he does in that picture

aurorabutton that's what i said but he complained about the horrible photo for an hour fernandoalo_oficial que dramático 😂

user1 aurora what driver are you rooting for this weekend?

aurorabutton the hometown hero of course! logansargeant so fuck me i guess? aurorabutton tell james to stop being a pussy and give you the same upgrades as alex and then we can talk about me rooting for you logansargeant williams admin, she's joking i swear aurorabutton no, i'm not williamsracing 🤨🤨

jensonbutton have kids they said, it'll be great they said, turns out they lied.

aurorabutton i'm a delight to be around father!

user2 saturn, leo, and roscoe meet up when?

user3 the three most spoiled pooches in the world becoming besties would be iconic.

user4 aurora, what do you think about lewis moving to ferrari?

aurorabutton it's about time someone got rid of that fraud at ferrari user5 close enough, welcome back untrained pr charles leclerc aurorabutton that may be the greatest compliment i've ever received

maxverstappen1 do my nights of babysitting you mean nothing? you can't even cheer for me?

aurorabutton YOU WON ALMOST EVERY RACE LAST YEAR EXCEPT FOR 2? STOP WHINING? mickschumacher yeah max, stop whining maxverstappen1 i hate both of you user6 love that she's choosing to ignore singapore. aurorabutton singapore never happened last year?? what are you talking about?? i don't remember that race happening??

user7 poor max catching strays from aurora and mick

aurorabutton poor max cries to marley and me maxverstappen1 shut the fuck up? jensonbutton don't speak to my child that way verstappen maxverstappen1 SHE JUST SENT ME A TEXT CALLING ME AN UGLY RAT? aurorabutton snitch.

natalia_leclerc so this is my fellow 55 hater?

aurorabutton oh my god. it's me! i'm a carlos sainz hater! natalia_leclerc jenson, i'm stealing your child. she's mine now oscarpiastri wow, in a hurry to replace me already? you just got me? jensonbutton please, take her. aurorabutton wow dad. just say you hate me or something

aurora button so who's the kid hanging out with charles leclerc?

mick schumacher kid? what kid?

aurora button the one that looks like a lost puppy?? wearing a bright red shirt?

max verstappen that's literally just ollie?? why??

aurora button why is he wearing bright red shirt?? he does know this is the red bull garage right?? not the ferrari garage?? max verstappen he drives for prema in f2?? why do you care?? aurora button i was just confused?? i was going to accuse him of espionage for sainz

mick schumacher wait a damn minute

mick schumacher YOU KNOW WHAT PREMA SHIRTS LOOK LIKE! YOU USED TO WATCH ME RACE!! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS ABOUT??

aurora button i did?? i don't remember that??

max verstappen now hold on just a fucking minute... aurora middle name button...

aurora button what?? mick schumacher i may be an idiot but i'm an idiot with a girlfriend max verstappen i also have a girlfriend but i'm confused if we're thinking the same thing aurora button you have a mom not a girlfriend. max verstappen STOP CALLING HER THAT! aurora button the entire internet thinks so too...

mick schumacher don't change the subject!!

mick schumacher i know what you are aurora button

aurora button what?

max verstappen enough of this cryptid shit. you like oliver.

aurora button what the fuck? who the fuck is oliver?

mick schumacher deflection.. interesting..

max verstappen OLLIE!! YOU LIKE OLLIE!!

aurora button wow all that from a text asking who the fuck that was?? he could be pulling a spygate??

mick schumacher you're an idiot.

aurora button fuck you guys. i'm never talking to you two again.

max verstappen okay sure. we'll see how long that lasts. i give you two hours.

mick schumacher i give her one

aurorabutton posted new stories

someone clearly ruined his childhood if he's doing this shit as a grown man oh great, it's the american weirdo might be surrounded by weirdos (logan and max) but at least my shoes look cute

lewishamilton replied to your story

lewishamilton be honest, did you force him to do that? aurorabutton i'm flabbergasted you would think that lowly of me lewis lewishamilton i know you aurora. you used to put fish in my drivers room when you were a kid aurorabutton okay fine, i did do that to you, but no i didn't force him to do that. he did that all on his own actually. i don't why. must have something to do with the childhood trauma he has or something.

alex albon replied to your story

alex_albon why is logan like that? aurorabutton i don't know. my theory is that he was dropped on his head as a child alex_albon hmm, that could be it. aurorabutton by the way, is lily available to grab lunch? alex_albon i knew you were going to steal my girlfriend this weekend at least once. aurorabutton oh albono, it'll be more than once

natalia_leclerc replied to your story

natalia_leclerc cute shoes, where'd you get them? aurorabutton excuse me while i go scream... natalia_leclerc i'm sorry?? aurorabutton i literally love you. you're my favorite wag. natalia_leclerc thank you. love you too? aurorabutton holy shit, i can die peacefully.

SPAIN 2024

liked by oscarpiastri, natalia_leclerc, olliebearman and others

aurorabutton españa, i came, i saw, i yelled at (1) annoying spanish man. oh and i met this weird guy in red bull gear who said he drove cars in circles?

tagged: maxverstappen1

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user7 acting as if she didn’t break f1 twitter with her revelation

user8 serving cunt must be a button trait

user9 alternate caption could be: españa, i came, i saw, i exposed (1) annoying spanish man for being in love with his ex-teammates wife and how hard he tried to break them up so she could run to him. oh and here's max verstappen i guess ❤︎ by pierregasly, aurorabutton, alex_albon and others

user9 oh these guys are so messy and i am here for it

maxverstappen1 fuck you too i guess. that's the last time i ever let you crash in my room because all the hotels were booked up and your lazy ass couldn't decide if she wanted to go to the spanish gp or not

user10 damn max no need to expose aurora like that aurorabutton we both know that's a lie maxie taxie user11 did you guys share a bed or something? maxverstappen1 i slept on the couch, i'm not weird like that aurorabutton i've known this nerd since i was kid, kelly can keep him... user11 i can't tell if this is a diss towards kelly or not

jensonbutton i see we're excluding the text message where you told me, 'that ugly spaniard is going to catch these fists.'

fernandoalo_oficial that better not have been about me? aurorabutton i can't believe you would think this way about me fernando? you are the handsome spaniard my father is in love with. jensonbutton as the children say, why am i catching strays? aurorabutton YOU'RE THE ONE WHO ADMITTED ON THE INTERNET THAT YOU WERE IN LOVE WITH HIM?? I'M JUST REPEATING WHAT YOU SAID??

user12 she lives for reminding us that she hates carlos sainz

user13 has she ever said why she hates carlos? other than the shady as fuck shit he and his family do? aurorabutton he used to be apart of our nepo-babies group chat, but after we (max, mick, and i) realized he always blamed other people for the shit he did we (i) kicked him out and we haven't spoken since. cut to a year later and all this shit with charles is happening at ferrari. user13 oh. that explains it

oscarpiastri not pictured is her jumping on logan's back and clinging like a koala

aurorabutton good times. 10/10 experience logansargeant it may not be pictured here but boy is it doing rounds on twitter and tiktok

olliebearman the weird guy in red bull gear kicked me out of his drivers room for 'stinking up the place' whatever that means

maxverstappen1 YOU WERE EATING A RAW ONION IN MY ROOM?! olliebearman listen there was 50 pounds on the line. mama didn't raise a bitch verstappen. maxverstappen1 what kind of idiot would bet you 50 pounds for that? paularon_ jeez, i wonder who would do that... maxverstappen1 you're both idiots

AHEAD OF SILVERSTONE 2024

liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and others

aurorabutton the world's biggest carlos sainz haters finally met and in the words of kendrick himself, "it's always been about love and hate. now let me say i'm the biggest hater. " i bet that jobless guy just shit himself seeing this on instagram

tagged: natalia_leclerc, carlossainz55

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jensonbutton is this what the kids call messy?

aurorabutton yes father, this is me being messy jensonbutton i've never been prouder to call you my daughter aurorabutton so fuck my academic achievements i guess jensonbutton you know what i mean

user14 tagging him is a new level of messy

user15 no one knows messy like aurora button. she grew up during peak brocedes civil war, she knows messy the best

user16 SEB LIKED THIS??

user17 of course he did, he's team charles all the way

natalia_leclerc i don't think i've ever had a gossip session quite like ours and i know pierre and esteban

pierregasly we are not that messy estebanocon we ARE that messy

user18 oh that's mother and daughter. i'm sorry jenson, she's no longer your daughter, that's a leclerc now.

user19 jenson button losing his daughter to the leclercs was not on my bingo card but honestly seems about right.

carlossainz55 very mature

aurorabutton oh now you wanna talk maturity? weren't you the one telling the media i was a nepo-baby when EVERYONE knows that move you pulled on charles in spain was stupid? logansargeant maturity is not trying to make a move on your teammate's girlfriend oscarpiastri maturity is knowing to take no for an answer patriciooward maturity is not crying to the media when your teammate races better than you olliebearman maturity is not trying to break up your former teammate and his girlfriend all because you can't take no for an answer. good thing robert doesn't have a girlfriend for you to try to manipulate or steal charles_leclerc can you just shut the fuck up for once in your life? natalia_leclerc what can we say, we really are the biggest haters. go tell that to the spanish media arthur_leclerc this is new levels of embarrassing carlos. bensantos_ruiz go cry to your dad about that user20 the leclerc-ruiz family gagged him

ollie bearman-leclerc betrayal doesn't even begin to cover what i feel

ollie bearman-leclerc mother hates me

ollie bearman-leclerc i've been disowned in the cruelest way

oscar piastri-leclerc what is this guy yapping about now??

logan sargeant-leclerc oh my god he's so dramatic

pato o'ward-leclerc it's okay, we know he gets it from dad

charles leclerc what's wrong ollie?? and fuck you pato

natalia leclerc ollie, what happened? charles, don't speak to our son that way

ollie bearman-leclerc YOU HAPPENED!! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!!!

natalia leclerc me? what did i do??

ollie bearman-leclerc you know what you did pato o'ward-leclerc ollie, i don't think she does that's why she's asking. ollie bearman-leclerc oh

natalia leclerc por dios, igualito a su papa

logan sargeant-leclerc update, i figured out why ollie is salty

natalia leclerc wait, IS THIS ABOUT AURORA?!

oscar piastri-leclerc oh my god. all of this over a girl?

ollie bearman-leclerc SHE'S NOT A GIRL! SHE'S THE LOVE OF MY LIFE! logan sargeant-leclerc you tell jenson that yet?

ollie bearman-leclerc i don't understand why i couldn't be invited to hang out with you two? i feel excluded

charles leclerc to be fair, they didn't invite me either? aurora said it was a 'girl's only day lechair' which is quite rude but okay

ollie bearman-leclerc YOU TALKED TO HER? DIG THE KNIFE IN DEEPER WHY DON'T YOU?

charles leclerc you are so dramatic oliver

ollie bearman-leclerc YOU LEFT YOUR DREAM TEAM BECAUSE YOUR ASS WAS GOING THROUGH A MIDLIFE CRISIS!

charles leclerc MIDLIFE CRISIS?? HOW OLD DO YOU THINK I AM??

pato o'ward-leclerc at least 69. i have to say, you aged beautifully. logan sargeant-leclerc thought you were at least 38 oscar piastri-leclerc 50??

charles leclerc fuck everyone here but my wife

ollie bearman-leclerc i mean, you have done that, that's why she's pregnant. natalia leclerc OLIVER! logan sargeant-leclerc let him speak 🗣️ oscar piastri-leclerc you're booing him but he's right??

charles leclerc you're all grounded.

pato o'ward-leclerc I DIDN'T EVEN SAY ANYTHING?? charles leclerc i know your ass laughed patricio pato o'ward-leclerc this is why i am so glad i'm an indycar driver

aurora button max emilian verstappen. who the fuck is the room next to you??

max verstappen charles is? i think? please tell me he's not having sex with natalia again. i've suffered though that enough

aurora button no, but there's screaming?? and i think they're watching bluey? i heard the themesong

mick schumacher you think or you know?

aurora button i don't appreciate the sass schumacher

max verstappen just asked charles, nat and the children are in their hotel room. they are in fact watching bluey

aurora button great, i'm going over. i want to watch bluey and i'm alone.

mick schumacher why are you rooming with max? you could've gotten your own room?

aurora button i tried, but they were all booked up. max's room has two beds, so i'm crashing with him.

mick schumacher oh, so are you going over because you're lonely or because you like ollie?

aurora button i don't like him. he is cute but i don't like him.

max verstappen is this- this is the first time aurora sophia button is admitting she finds someone cute?

mick schumacher your middle name is sophia? aurora button no...

max verstappen you don't know her middle name?

mick schumacher i'm sure i do know it but i always forget it? half the time i think your full name is maximilian and not max emilian aurora button we can only blame jos verstappen for that name max verstappen my mum named me.

aurora button everything is always jos' fault. sophie is an angel.

mick schumacher preach sister

max verstappen both of you can go die

aurora button aww, i'm telling my dad

max verstappen die.

mick schumacher are you two sure you aren't siblings?

aurora button bitch please, i'm way prettier than sid verstappen over there.

max verstappen shut the fuck up barney

mick schumacher i think she's more of a blues clues

aurora button i'm definitely a power ranger you fake bitches

max verstappen no, you're the one little alien in that movie with the boy. the one with the long fingers.

aurora button I AM NOT FUCKING ET YOU BITCH!

mick schumacher oh my god. one day of peace is all i ask for.

ollie bearman-leclerc WHY IS SHE HERE? WHO INVITED HER??

natalia leclerc max is in a meeting and she was alone oliver. be nice.

oscar piastri-leclerc HE'S ACTUALLY STUTTERING?? SOMEONE RECORD THIS SHIT!!

charles leclerc RECORD HIM! I WANT TO SEE THIS!! I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M MISSING THIS!!

pato o'ward-leclerc RECORD HIM! SEND THE GOODS OVER PIASTRI-LECLERC!

logan sargeant-leclerc HE'S BLUSHING! HE'S REDDER THAN A TOMATO!

natalia leclerc i think it's adorable.

natalia leclerc and he just ran out of the room.

ollie bearman-leclerc all of you are fake, except for mom.

charles leclerc the fuck did i do?

ollie bearman-leclerc YOU ASKED FOR VIDEO PROOF?!

pato o'ward-leclerc ▸ ı|||||||ıı||||ııı||ı

ollie bearman-leclerc IS THAT AN AUDIO OF YOU LAUGHING AT ME??

logan sargeant-leclerc actual tears in my eyes right now. this shit is hilarious

natalia leclerc currently questioning what the fuck is wrong with you boys??

ollie bearman-leclerc they're fucking bullying me. oscar piastri-leclerc it's the least you deserve as the youngest. ollie bearman-leclerc i'm not the youngest, leo is logan sargeant-leclerc we're not going to bully a dog ollie, we're not that cruel

aurora button i'm like 90% sure he hates me?? i never did anything to him and he hates me??

mick schumacher and what gave you that idea baby button??

aurora button he ran out of the room when i got here?

max verstappen charles has been laughing at his phone for 5 minutes. and i'm pretty sure he just played an audio of someone laughing like a maniac.

mick schumacher do you think the leclerc family has a groupchat?

max verstappen i know they do. natalia added us to it and i'm like 95% sure she made a new one after. aurora button AND YOU DIDN'T ADD ME TO IT?! max verstappen you're not even close to being a leclerc mick schumacher yeah aurora, he's charles' mistress

max verstappen maybe if you dated ollie i could add you to the group chat

aurora button oh my god i don't like him!

mick schumacher then why do you care what he thinks?

aurora button i have this thing where i need to be universally liked by everyone

max verstappen what about carlos??

aurora button carlos can go stub his pinky toe on every possible surface he can. aurora button i hope both sides of his pillow are always warm.

mick schumacher why do you have such an intense hatred for carlos?

aurora button the question is why don't you??

max verstappen he called her dad a mid-driver one time in a conversation. he tried to play it off as a joke but aurora's hated him ever since.

aurora button that shit wasn't a joke and at least my dad is a world champion. you don't see me joking about how jos verstappen was a shit driver and max is better now do you?

max verstappen you do that constantly. you tell me that all the time

mick schumacher in her defense, your dad was a shit driver compared to you. like me with my dad aurora button you were stuck with fucking haas, nikita, and gunther. how the fuck were you expected to improve?? max verstappen you were shit because you were with haas. if the car was the way it was this year i'm sure you would do great

mick schumacher you guys are great when you aren't yelling at each other

max verstappen i've become reluctant to the fact that she's never going away.

aurora button he secretly likes me

¡taglist!

@lesliiieeeee @kissesandmartinis @vellicora @blushmimi @scuderiadevils @moofli509 @girlbossnessa @scarletwidow3000 @hopenshaw

¡leclerc-s speaks!

part one to mastermind let's go!! hope you guys enjoy this story. now, ollie bearman is a menace to society, pass it on. yes i did use tweets from karma because they were important to the plot.

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[sxftkxssxs]

How would the main5 reader being related to Lucio? As I would have a field day with that information

I tried to balance lighthearted and serious thoughts in this one, it likely doesn't come across as well as I'm seeing it at the moment since it is late.

I hope you enjoy anyways!

Asra

Asra is appalled by this information.

You, the absolute love of his life, who was killed, albeit indirectly, by Lucio, are related to him? That's fucked up.

He's absolutely not happy. Lucio's somehow managed to screw with every part of Asra's life. His parents, Muriel, and his partner.

If you decide to play protagonist and try to make everyone get along, they'll tease Lucio to hell and back five times over with this.

It does not help that Lucio doesn't like Asra the most. Why'd his relative pick the worst one?!

He holds it over Lucio's head the rest of his life. He'll find so many ways to say the same thing over and over again.

"This is karma for throwing my parents in the magical realms."

Julian

Yikes, this one is a little hard to grasp for me.

He'll likely make some sort of joke or jab at the information but don't be fooled. He's processing.

He decides he doesn't really know what to feel, except for a reasonable amount of lingering anger, like any normal person would.

Lucio force-fed him a plague beetle, they aren't exactly on, "sorry we cool?" terms.

If you don't mind that you're related to Lucio he'll tease you about it, if not he'll leave it alone.

He's not gonna be very happy go lucky with him, but with you he's all teasing, especially if you indulge in his scheming.

Nadia

This woman cannot get a break, can she?

She's internally trying to see the resemblance but her ability to depends on your personality.

If you're an absolute menace to the living breathing world, she absolutely sees it. If not, she's at a loss for how the two could possibly be from the same family tree.

She doesn't see you or your relationship any differently, whatever she had with Lucio is in the very far past, but Lucio is throwing a fit.

Why are you with HIS ex-wife?? MC??? Hey! He's talking to you, MC!

Muriel

Yeah, no. sorry.

We all have to remember what that man put Muriel through. Muriel obviously held every single action that happened in that colosseum against Lucio. As he should!!

If we're talking about early Muriel he's immediately running from the MC. Get away, shoo!

If we decide to talk about late or even post-upright Muriel, we can have a different outcome.

He'll be upset, confused, and likely very apprehensive. Inanna is there as a bridge between the both of you.

He doesn't want to see you any differently, and he doesn't. But how can one relative be the absolute worst person to grace the earth and the other be the best thing to ever happen to him?

Portia

She's surprisingly only slightly bugged about it.

That is the man who force-fed her brother a beetle and gave him the red plague.

But if her brother can put it in the past then she supposes she can too. (But you can swear she gives Lucio the nastiest look when he isn't looking..?)

She still has some trouble fully letting it go, but instead of a full on grudge its more like when your friend doesn't pay something back. She'll just bring it up every once in a while.

Teases you about being considered royalty, even if Lucio isn't count anymore.

Lucio

He's having a field day, greatest day of his life even! He's sorta got a mini him!

...Until you start out-menacing him, even if its only in certain ways.

who knew that ran in the family tree? Morga is losing her mind in the background

[wikitpowers]

help even my tumblr ads are kitty coded 😭

[bigassbowlingballhead]

L is for the way you look disrespectfully at tzp’s thighs

O is for the only one I know who can tag everything nick

V is very very extra-slutty for men’s holes

E is even more than Evan Buckley/Ryan Guzman/the tennis movie

(passionate anonymous homosexual love letter 🫦)

THE TENNIS MOVEI NFKDHFKSHFKLDSHF

[doctorsiren]

I loved your headcannons about inukawa, reigen and reigens sister and I would really like to see what you think would happen if mob and reigens sister met and I was wondering if you could possibly draw them :D

hello yes I accidentally made a comic after seeing this ask yesterday 😁 bro psychoanalyzed her 😨

[charlieconwayy]

Favorite Character Meme [3/5 Relationships]: Shawn & Cory

"I always thought Topanga was the one person I could never live without, but she's gone, and you're here, and I'm alive so it must be you . . . Shawnie, I love you."

[anonfromtheflight]

(X)

[usersyd]

will you still want me, when im nothing new?