#(it is actually) so i'm just curious what that means
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what kind of face do you think Barbatos would make if he learned I microwave my tea? i need a constant stream of tea usually and microwaving is the fastest way to get a cup of hot water, if the hot water kettle isn't already going. 1 minute and tea bag and it's already drinkable.
if he told me to wait and went to make me a proper cuppa id probably wither and just beg him to microwave water and a tea bag. do you think he would disown me?
Yes, anon. I do think he would disown you.
I mean, no I don't actually think he'd disown you, but it'd be kinda cute, right? He's so appalled that he just kinda has to take a time out. Can't think clearly about it until he has his own calming cup of tea. And then he feels better and starts brainstorming ideas to help you with this issue.
Now, when you say the hot water kettle are we talking the traditional stove top situation? Because you know they make electric kettles, right? They're muuuuch faster. You can also get a Keurig type situation.
Why does this matter? you may be asking. It all makes water hot, right?
Yeah, technically. But in order to steep tea correctly, your water has to be a specific temperature. And you can't really get a specific temp with a microwave. Whereas most Keurigs and electric kettles either automatically heat the water to the correct temperature or you can change their settings so they do.
This is so your tea isn't too bitter.
And if you want my honest opinion, I doubt Barbatos uses tea bags, either.
He strikes me as a loose leaf only kinda guy, maybe using a tea bag if he's in a pinch or something.
However, I think Barbatos is likely to just... make you a whole pot. He'll put the loose leaf tea directly into the pot, followed by the water already heated to the right temperature, then let it steep the correct amount of time depending on the type of tea. Then he'll have a little strainer for you to catch the tea leaves in as you pour the tea from pot to cup.
A pot will last you a lot longer than a single cup. And I'd be really surprised if he didn't have a spell for keeping the pot warm until the tea is gone.
And then he'd just make sure you never run out.
Of course, if you have any interest in iced tea, you wouldn't need to worry about any of this. Because you can cold brew any type of tea. Leave a pitcher of it in the fridge over night and bam - tea all day.
HOWEVER. Since you did ask me what kind of face he would make, I'm going to subject you to my terrible art skills to demonstrate how I think it'd go. Now you can all see why I'm not an artist.
He's upset.
I mean, I would be too if someone drew me so badly. I'm sorry, Barb. My MC is an artist, but I'm not, I'm afraid. I just realized I forgot to give him a nose. I MEAN that was totally on purpose, it's a style choice. Anyway, I hope the frown at least conveys how sad he is about you microwaving your tea lol.
#I mean he could potentially give you a more D: kind of face#but he would also be trying not to make you feel bad so I think it'd just end up as :(#anyway I suppose it also depends on what you're drinking the tea for#but I think it'll taste better if you use a different method#I've never tried the microwaving myself#so I can't actually compare them#maybe I should#now I'm kinda curious#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me barbatos#anon asks#misc answers
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just curious: have you ever made a tutorial on how you draw hair? it always looks so flowy and delicate and I'm immensely jealous
I just kind of go for it and if it doesn't look right it usually needs more volume lol. XD It would take too long to like... go step by step but here's the general shapes of each side. The secret: There's a lot of S shapes going on to give volume.
We'll start with the shortest to the longest:
Short and pushed up in the front because he's trying to keep it neat. Spikier looking strands. Less flowey and with less S shapes means less volume. Many much triangle for maximum pointy.
Shorter but his bangs are down like Virgil. Covers human side of his face more because that's fun. He and Virgil have the same hair but Virgil tends to have more volume covering his face and sometimes I shorten Janus's bangs even more than what I actually did here to make him look more put together. It's either that or make the top part flatter like Logan's to be more clipped.
Completely covering the side of his face of course- I usually hide his eye a lot. Much spook, very emo. As you can tell, volume usually goes off to one side as opposed to both for the way I do hair. Something something balance in the unbalanced or whatever.
Fluffier! Lots of S shapes this time! But it doesn't carry around the whole face like Roman's does. It's a higher kind of floof making him look more bouncy and approachable.
THERE HE IS THE FLOOF PRINCE HIMSELF! So many swoopy S shapes everywhere and they carry down past his chin giving him so many curls to work with. Still the floof is catered to one side over the other (I default to the side with the bangs), but Roman's is as swopy as I can make it. Usually I have to go back and adjust the volume because it goes out to the side AND up higher because it's meant to make him look flouncy and flamboyant. A kind of "I woke up looking this good" vibe.
Aaand Remus! Opposite bangs of all the sides, I did this on purpose because the consistency in his being off-kilter compared to the others shows up immediately with the visual switch. But it means the opposite side gets the heavier floof so his ponytail (when I draw it, I don't always) gets to show up on the opposite side to balance him out. He has such long bangs in my style that it feels necessary lol.
I don't know if this helps but maybe it does? XD
Here's some like.... general bangs variations??
If I'm doing long hair I just lengthen the S shapes and usually I curl them at the bottom because I hair does that.
#tashiarts#not really a tutorial but... i guess kind of???#sanders sides hair#i also betray my own methods all the time lol
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things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton
part one
word count: 9.2k
warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.
There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.
"Do you ever get tired?"
Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.
"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.
Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.
"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"
Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.
"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.
"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.
They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.
He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.
Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.
Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that.
What's cooler than an old lady?
"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."
It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her.
Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist.
Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.
"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.
Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."
She surely doesn't recognize him.
And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"
"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?"
"Yes, for the last four years."
"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"
"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."
"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.
"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.
"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.
"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."
As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night.
Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.
The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"
And the rest was history.
Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.
She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.
Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer.
He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her.
"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.
"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."
"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."
She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.
"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"
"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth."
From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.
"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"
"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound.
"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.
"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"
She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "
For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.
"You sure do have a way with words."
"I try."
Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.
"Do you think I'm annoying?"
"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"
"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."
"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"
"No, not really."
"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"
"Yes."
That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely.
"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."
And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?
"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."
"Okay."
"We can start now?"
"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.
"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"
She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate.
"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."
"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"
She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.
"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"
"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."
"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.
"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"
Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.
"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.
Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.
"What have you lost?"
"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.
He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.
"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems.
"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."
"Have you heard from him since?"
"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It must’ve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it must’ve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."
Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.
"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."
"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces.
"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.
"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."
"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."
Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.
"Shit."
She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest.
She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings.
When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.
She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas.
"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."
"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door.
"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently.
Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.
Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind.
Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.
Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.
And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.
Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.
Clementine was actually so fucking cool.
People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her.
Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.
Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.
He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume.
Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name.
He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.
She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.
She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.
He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.
Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly.
He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show.
Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.
Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.
"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"
The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect.
"Probably here."
As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.
Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.
"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.”
-
The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.
She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her.
When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.
Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities.
There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.
She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.
"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame.
"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."
She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.
"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.
"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.
His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.
"So it's a movie about eating people?"
Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry.
"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."
"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"
Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.
Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives.
He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit.
He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause.
He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.
Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.
Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him.
Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.
As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars.
"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"
-
When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France.
She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.
When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal.
If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows.
Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.
Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together.
Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex.
She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.
Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world.
Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each other’s presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.
Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.
In fact, she was fine with it.
She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.
It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself.
She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt.
She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered.
So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.
She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her.
She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.
He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.
When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.
"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him.
"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."
"You have been celebrating?"
"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"
Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."
His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"
"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.
Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.
He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.
"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.
"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.
"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"
"I touched down today after qualifying."
"No." Clem disapproves, "I could’ve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired."
Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted.
"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.
Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.
"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."
She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."
"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."
Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."
"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."
"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."
He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.
"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."
"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."
Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."
Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister.
He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"
He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."
Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth.
He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly.
Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony.
Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.
"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.
It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.
He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands.
"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."
"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."
"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.
"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."
He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.
"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"
Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"
"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."
Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly.
"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.
"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."
"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."
"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring."
"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.
Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."
Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing.
"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"
"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."
"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."
"Thank you." Lewis grins.
"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"
"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."
"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take."
"Shower?"
"With you?" She wonders.
"If you're okay with that."
"I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."
Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower.
clementine
liked by lewishamilton, tchalamet, and 8,898,465 others
clementine the best week, the most perfect week.
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lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.
tchalamet And she's done it again people.
badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️
pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.
user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.
-
As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.
Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights.
"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."
"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.
"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"
Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."
Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve."
When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."
He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night.
She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.
"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"
"About a week."
Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.
"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"
Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"
Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."
Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away.
"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch."
He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase.
"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"
Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head.
Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.
Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.
Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.
It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head.
He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?
She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance.
"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in.
SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city.
"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"
SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."
"You're the best, SK." she smiles.
"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."
-
Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry.
He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.
"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."
Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet.
He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.
When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.
He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.
thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.
- 🍊
He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.
Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.
Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.
He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.
-
#lewis hamilton x black fem oc#formula 1#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton imagine#poc reader#f1#black reader#black reader friendly#black female oc
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i read somewhere that, after the war, zuko at least hands hama over to the swt instead of keeping her in fire nation prisons 'till the end of her life. Which is nice, I think. But I'm also curious as to how that would work out.
Most notably: how do you think it'd go down if she were to meet Pakku? given they both have some sort of connection to kanna's life, the idea of them being forced to interact even once entertains me very much. like, old waterbending master pakku—white lotus member—who has grown up in a patriarchal society and actively forbidden women from training to fight, under the precedent they are somehow ontologically weaker, fragile, and belonging in the healing huts... THAT guy, meeting his former fiancé's old friend: (or current wife's if you go by canon, which, eugh) A woman who not only fought in the front lines but ended up becoming one of the most skilled, creative, and deadly waterbenders in history. How would he react when finding out that a woman came up with blood bending? How badly would Hama mind-fuck him?? Because I'm confident they'd hate each other's guts-- no way she'd tolerate him,,,
And on a similar note—how would Kanna feel upon reuniting wirh Hama and discovering what she put Katata through, in your opinion? Idk, I'm just full of puppetmaster thoughts today. Hama is incredibly interesting and I wish she wasn't handled so much like a Halloween Specisl creepy witch, (even though katara herself is handled and written pretty well in this episode, i think. but i digress.)
i mean obviously i think about this all the time. i personally think that zuko hands hama over to the swt upon katara's request, and she and aang personally deliver her on appa (sokka is not there, for the very deliberate reason that if he knew what they were doing he would very vocally disapprove). and so katara is sort of retraumatizing herself by doing this, but she also feels like it's necessary specifically because she needs to be able to look hama in the eye and tell her why they're not actually the same (especially now that she actually did bloodbend someone in cold blood). katara has the love and support and safety to step back from her anger and her pain and her grief and hang onto her own humanity and allow herself to be the bigger person even in moments of abject rage and acute trauma, and hama doesn't. hama is a victim of her circumstance, and that's part of what makes her so uniquely terrifying to katara, because katara has that same capacity to make people hurt, she has the same tools at her disposal, and she has the same justifications to exercise that power. but unlike hama, she hasn't actually been pushed past her limits. sometimes she can see the cliff's edge, and sometime she even teeters on the line, but hama was fully just shoved off without a parachute, and that's really what separates them above all. i think katara should be allowed to acknowledge that and forgive herself for that, even if hama doesn't directly apologize to her (although in my mind she does, and it's not enough, but it's also so much more than katara ever expected to hear). even if it is too late for hama, katara deserves to heal.
frankly, i don't really give a shit about pakku or his reaction to hama. i also don't actually think that he thinks woman are ontologically incapable of being talented waterbenders of whatever; he's a pretty worldly guy, the reason he clings to these traditions isn't born of the belief that they're grounded in logical evidence like sokka's is, it's because he believes in the preservation of a system that benefits and valorizes him. pakku thinks katara belongs in the healing huts because he comes from a culture that dictates that women belong in the healing huts. like, he might also subscribe to the bioessentialist logic that women are better healers and men are being fighters, but that honestly doesn't really matter, because (unlike sokka) his epiphany lies not in the fact that woman can fight, but in the fact that his role in upholding these systems has actively driven his loved ones away due to his cruelty. he decides to be kinder, to women and in general, because he realizes that being an asshole has negative consequences. but frankly, who cares what he thinks of hama. realizing that your sister tribe in the south deserves aid and protection after being subjected to a century of genocide is kind of too little too late imo. unlike katara, sokka, aang, or kanna, who can approach this situation from the perspective of being a genocide survivor who even remotely understands hama's trauma, pakku really has no place in this conversation to me.
as for kanna...... god. hama/kanna reunion is genuinely one of the most heart-wrenching concepts to me in all of atla. as a sidenote, hama/kanna fanfic goes so hard every time. there's a total of like 15 fanfics for them on ao3 (last i checked) but they're all sooooooo. fucking delicious. tide locked........... ugh. anyway. i cannot fathom kanna's reaction upon learning that her closest friend once upon a time is not only alive, but also a convicted felon, for crimes including but not limited to manipulating her granddaughter, violating her (and sokka's) bodily autonomy in cruel and perverse ways, and forcing her to participate in that mode of violence in a way that traumatized her forever. even if you don't read them as former lovers (although it is indubitably better that way) it's so gut-churning. kanna lost so many people over the course of her life, and to learn that one of them has returned but in the worst way possible must be mind-boggling and distinctly unreal. like how do you even process that. first, how do you process how much pain she must have went through to become the kind of person who is capable of doing this, and then, how do you process the knowledge that the person you once loved most in the world irreparably hurt the person you now love most in the world? obviously she would always prioritize katara's safety over anyone else's no matter what, but god. kanna has led such a fascinating and impossibly difficult life, and it's not over yet.
#kallianthi#asks#analysis#postwargaang#hama#katara#pakku#kanna#hamaxkanna#hama&katara#also i didn't mention it in the post itself bc i've talked about it before but yeah i very much agree that i wish hama had been framed#differently because i do feel like making her into a cackling witch kind of undermines the whole point of the episode#she's someone who is deserving of our empathy and understanding despite her violence and by reducing her into a caricature#we lose that nuance#but otherwise it's such a fascinating episode....#kataraaa.... katara i love you katara <33333
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if you're doing showoff submissions, this is my personal 3ds ! i'm in north america so i had to get it imported from japan to get it in a size that's usable to me.
i actually just got it earlier this year, and hacked it with a friend -- by which i mean, she did all the technical stuff and occasionally asked me to translate.
the games on it are mostly pokemon and metroid. oddly, i've gotten much more use out of this thing as an ereader than as a game console, and odder still, it's probably the best ereader i've ever used due to the size and form factor.
incidentally, did you know that you can install dsi camera and sound on a 3ds ? i have absolutely no use for them since the 3ds apps are strictly better, but i have them on there for the novelty of it.
black n3DS
what program do you use for the ereader? I'm really curious actually. I feel like the resolution would be an issue- wouldn't it make the text hard to read?
also no I didn't know about that- that's actually pretty funny.
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wasteland survival guide ( maximus )
summary: you didn't trust easy, but the unconscious man on your porch was way too pretty to let die, and you were way too curious as to why someone from that cult known as the brotherhood would have collapsed on your door in need of help and expecting you to help was an even more insane point of view.
contents: usual fallout shenanigans, violence, gore, black cat and golden retriever energy, max has a tooth lodged in his shoulder like he does in the show, reader pointed a gun at max, awkward tensions as max doesn't know what tf he's doing, fast burn, kissing, ect...
dedicated to: @fallout-girl219
You've learned two things about the man who you found collapsed on your front porch, his name is Maximus, Max for short, and he was a part of the brotherhood of steel, a cult, in your honest opinion.
Why you had helped him, you still weren't sure about that just yet, maybe it was the fact he was in the way and you would have to step over him every time you entered your house or exited it. You would have to listen to his cries of complaint, desperate for help as his sleeve became a red stain from the wound in his arm. So you decided to help, for once, you had plenty of stim packs and he would get better in no time with one of them. You had dragged him inside pathetically, nearly tripping on the final step when you finally got him into your house.
He had a tooth lodged in his shoulder, rotten and yellow, you had removed it with tweezers and stuck the needle from the stim pack into the open wound and then after seconds, he had woken up with a jolt whilst you turned your back for a mere second, too busy shoving the box back into your cabinet and locking it.
You had heard the thump and turned sharply, your gun pointed at the man who had fallen off your coach with a painful groan, clutching his arm as he sat up and stared at you with a look of worry when he saw the gun you're pointing right at his head. He held his hands up, as you continued to point your weapon, "If I lower this, you're not gonna try anything stupid, are you?" He shakes his head, staring widely as you lowered the gun and in turn held out your hand for him to take, he was surprised at your strength, managing to get him onto his feet with a single pull of his hand.
He was suddenly in your space and so you step back, a little cautious of his taller frame, he could win a fight if he'd chosen to be hostile, but instead he had held out a hand for you to shake to which you agreed. "Thanks for uhh... not letting me die on your porch." He says with a wave of awkwardness in his tone, "I'm Max, Maximus." You let go of his hand with a shrug, "I'm Y/N." You were quick to reply, and he nodded at you with a smile.
"Well, thank you, Y/N, for your hospitality... You don't get a lot of that these days, especially towards brotherhood of steel members." You shrug at him dismissively, sitting down on your worn out couch, "I'm not the biggest fan, no offence, but, I'm not that cruel, I wouldn't leave your ass to bleed out in my yard." He tried to laugh, but your dislike towards the brotherhood made him frown with a look of disappointment. "I don't mean to pry but why do you dislike them? Surely there's a reason." You shrug out of laziness, and turn to face him, "Well, for one, it is such a cult full of military wannabes who think they're gonna save the world or something like that when what they're actually doing is making shit ten times worse." Max was taken aback by your words, sure there were a few truths to your words but the first point made him forget what else had been said so far.
"The brotherhood isn't a cult."
The two of you grew silent, Max had a frown on his face, offended at your words, and then after fully letting it sink in what he had said, you laughed. Your lungs burned out from the breaths you inhaled, trying to get air as you had continued to laugh at his reaction and his words and the man in front of you went even further to prove how you'd offended him by crossing his arms. "What's so funny?" Is the first thing he asks when you finally calm down and it finally makes you turn to him with a shrug, "Most people who are in a cult usually don't know they're in one." Max's lips part to speak and then he falters, "That's a very good point but the brotherhood still isn't a cult."
"It definitely is." You reply bored, "No, it isn't!" He fires at you with an annoyance. "You know, considering I saved your life, the least you can do is agree with me." You're aware he's becoming a little annoyed by you disagreeing with him and so he stands up, "I'm gonna go now." You nod at him, "That would be great, thank you!"
He hovers in place, "I'm leaving now!" He says but still is unmoving, looking rather unsure when you crossed your arms and raised a brow at him, "The doors right there, I'd see you out but I gotta clean this blood off my couch." At your words, Max frowns and glances at the door, "I'll get going then!" He moves a few steps towards the door and then pauses when you scoff, "You've yet to get out of my house, you lost your sense of direction, pal?"
"Can I kiss you?" He asks randomly, "Excuse me?" You're quick to ask with a raised brow. "Can I kiss you?" He asks again, this time a little more awkwardly. "Thought there's some sort of rule in your cult, no sex before marriage or something like that?" He shakes his head, "We're allowed but the brotherhood doesn't exactly allow girls to join us back at base, it's forbidden." He explains and then stares at you suddenly with wide eyes, "Oh, my god, it is a cult!" He exclaims and you laugh breathily, "Told you so..." Max takes a step closer to you now, toe to toe, as he looks at you softly, "Can I still kiss you, even though I'm in a cult?" He asks unsurely and you answer by pressing your soft lips to his, catching him off guard as he suddenly rocked back onto his heels slightly when you parted your lips, a grin on your features at his flustered face, "That answer your question?"
"Yes, yes it does."
#fallout#fallout tv show#fallout tv series#maximus fallout#fallout maximus#maximus x reader#maximus#we need more max fics out here#he's literally a sweetheart
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i watched the toh pilot episode, here's my reaction
ooookay i so wasn't expecting what i just watched- I WANT MORE
(if you haven't watched it yet but want to do it without spoilers then don't open this)
alright alright i lost my shit actually
Amity stood up for Luz and the fact that she said this was the first time anyone had done that for her is just so sad...
and Luz gave her a drawing as a 'thank you' ( ꒦ິ ཀ ꒦ິ ) she's so sweet
oh and also!!!! first bigger change is that Amity was an exchange student in the human realm! i wonder why her parents sent her there and if there's any angsty reason for that (cuz yk yeah i'm a sucker for angst esp if it's Amity related)
my first thought when i saw this frame: "if i could picture how my mind looks like this would be it"
girly just casually grabbed a key and travelled between realms- do most witches and demons have a portal key or is it exclusive??
Luz met Eda!!! also they teleported later- so cool (ง ◉ _ ◉)ง
i heard that the Owl House was meant to be a shop first and now we can see how it would've looked like!
awww Luz is so excited!!! i love her (˶˃⤙˂˶)
that ceiling looks so prettyyy
Luz i have to say it again and i will never stop saying it: i love you you're amazing pls never change
another bigger change!! Lilith is headmistress in the high school!!! and everyone's afraid of her- shes's a boss bitch and ik she's evil but i love her
girllll--- (ง ͠ಥ_ಥ)ง why are you like this???? you had no business being this mean-
she threw away Luz's drawing from earlier whyyyy (·•᷄∩•᷅ )
side note: the demon on the left is Boscha's pilot?? yk 3 eyes and everything...
i loved this scene! Lilith is so cool and everything! and i absolutely love the sibling mocking between them it's priceless-
and said mockery pissed Lilith off sm that she turned into a beast ༼;´༎ຶ ༎ຶ༽ does she have the curse in this version? is it really a curse or can Lilith turn into that thing whenever she wants to??
soooooooo omg- i can't Lilith got trapped... somewhere!!!! and her hand is chopped off now
i am soo curious about this like what happens to her after this??? where does she go? how does she get back? will she seek revenge??
oh uhm all i wanted to say regarding this frame is that guys- yes. relatable
Luz is literally this emoji 🧍🏼♀️just in a lying position
noooooo this was sooo sweet!!! (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)♡
i love how it was Eda who screamed bc the drawing that Amity threw out the window hit her in the head-
Eda complimented Luz's drawing and omg it touched her sm (っ˃̣̣̥ -˂̣̣̥ς) she only felt accepted and understood by Eda i'm so sad rn
and the biggest plot twist happened
i am not okay
EDA'S WORKING FOR THE EC??????? since when? how? why???
i'm guessing Lilith is also working for the Emperor but like Edaaaaaaaaaaa
i can't get over this
i saw someone say smth about a betrayal and this scene but i wasn't expecting THIS
tho i'm pretty sure Eda wouldn't hand Luz over (but i do have some alternative ideas for how this could play out)
is Eda cursed here too? how would she get another key to send Luz back to the human realm? what happened to Lilith??? where's Camila? we saw Amity starting to change her mind about Luz but how different her arc would've been here from canon???
i am so fixated on this rn this will occupy my brain for a good few weeks i think
and i absolutely hate myself for wanting to write a fanfic for this- I HAVE TOO MANY PROJECTS AND IDEAS ALREADY!!
but guys pls if you see anyone writing a fic for this lmk!!!
so yea i'm crazy rn i loved this and will definitely watch it again
the lore, the questions...
#owl house#the owl house luz#eda the owl lady#toh pilot#the owl house pilot#king owl house#owl house lilith
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dialogue 7 trope 8 with tchouameni pls. so happy that ppl are finally writing for him 🥹❤️
- "ooohh you wanna kiss me sooo bad."
- Bodyguard au
happy to write for him! he needs more love enjooyyyy
word count - 800+
watch it - flirty tch and weapon mentioned like once enjoyy
You know you're not a very stereotypical bodyguard. Shorter than most, no rippling muscles that tear shirts apart. It does give you the advantage of surprise. No one expects you. Even more so for the man you've been tasked to protect.
You know they hired you specifically to blend in and so you do. Still keeping close but you look like you could be anything from a part of the crowd to a friend and whatever more. You've seen yourself on a few gossip pages and on news articles here and there.
They have yet to put the pieces together and you want to keep it that way. You have a job to do and a man to protect. A man that for the life of you you can't understand.
He's an enigma on a good day. Aurélien keeps a curious eye on you, eager to watch you. But yet so hesitant.
He doesn't talk to you all that much, but when he does he manages to squeeze playful words in between each sentence. Always catching you off guard. He goes from being honed in and focused to letting his shoulders loose in a laugh.
Today seems like no exception. You wait in the wings backstage of an event. It's just a rehearsal for the actual thing yet you're here. Its empty save for stage screws running about with wires and microphones tangled on the floor.
You stand arms crossed a few feet away from where Aurélien is being fitted with different wires and what not. He speaks, arms waving lazily and nodding along to whatever his agent is saying. You haven't talked to him today yet.
He spots you soon enough, giving you a wave while you respond with a curt nod. He gets shown to where you stand, told to “hang out” here for a second while they adjust the lighting.
“Didn't know they dragged you here too?” he says, hands resting inside the pockets of his jacket.
“I have a job to do.” you shrug.
“Does it even get boring? Being around the same person all the time. I know I get tired.”
Your expression remains neutral, though a spark of amusement flickers in your eyes. "Perhaps," you hum, "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm here to protect you, whether you like it or not."
He grins, gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before turning back to watch the lights cycle through the different settings. "Well, in that case, I suppose I'll just have to make your job as interesting as possible," he says with a lazy shrug.
You roll your eyes, but cant help the small smile that tugs at your lips. "I have no doubt you will," you reply dryly
Aurélien gives you a playful smirk before leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "You know," he says, amusement dancing in his eyes, "sometimes I wonder if all this protection is just an excuse to be close to me."
You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed by his attempt at flirting. "Don't flatter yourself," you retort, though you can't stop the smile that seems between your words. He's bold today.
Leave it to Aurélien to find a way to wiggle into your personal space and under your skin with his words so early in the day. And you have so many more hours left with him. How thrilling.
He chuckles softly, leaning even closer until his breath brushes against your ear. "Oh, come on," he murmurs, "we both know deep down, you wanna kiss me sooo bad."
You can't help but laugh, shaking your head at his shameless antics. "You wish," you reply, giving him a playful shove before straightening up, feeling the waistband of your pants for your weapon. Old habits die hard you suppose.
Aurélien grins, the playful glint returning to his eyes as he steps back, resuming his role in the rehearsal.
You don't know what game he really plays. If his words really hold any meaning. If you should listen. So you choose the safe route and brush them off and try to do your job. Even if he insists on making it near impossible.
He sends you knowing looks from the other side of the backstage area. Ones you know would easily strike up talk. But you can't talk your eyes off him. Partly because of your job and partly due to him being so- what's the word- dazzling.
You do want to kiss him, but he doesn't need to know that. Not now at least.
For now you watch him do his thing while you try to do your job and push away his voice from ringing in your ears over and over.
we both know deep down
#bahr footy#aurelien tchouameni x reader#tchouameni x reader#tchouaméni x reader#tchouameni#aurelien tchouameni#bahr 300 event#aurélien x reader#aurélien x you#aurelien x reader#YAY#footballer fic#football fanfic#footy fic
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Begging for asks, pretty boy? And nsfw ones at that~
Well since you asked so sweetly, let's run with that a little.
I wonder how long I could tease you before you started begging for me? Walking around the house in the lingerie I know you like. Sending you naughty pictures and voice memos while you're at work~ "Accidentally" brushing up against you while we're out doing errands. And acting all innocent the whole time, like I don't know exactly what I'm doing~ I wonder how much teasing you could take, and how exactly the tension would break~ Would you beg for me? Beg on your knees for me to let you go wild and wreck me? Or maybe after a long day of teasing, you'd just drag me to the bed and take what you want?
I'd be oh so happy with either, handsome, but you just got me so curious with that one little word~
little known fact about me is that my composure is fucking amazing actually, i think i could last a while and maybe that would be frustrating to you yk? so maybe you'd take things a step further and bend over right in front of me and brush your pussy against my bulge or sit with your legs open on the couch while we're cuddling watching movies or something. maybe you'd just start touching yourself with me sitting right there and trying so hard to not let it affect me because that means i lose this little mind game that we've got going on
but when i finally do break it's feral and i press you against the closest surface i can find so that i can devour you and fuck you until you're crying and begging me to stop🥰
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What Type of Villain are You?
Got tagged by @gatheredfates, let's see what result my golden retriever got:
Sportsmanlike
You may be a villain with selfish goals, but you recognize that there are rules to this back and forth between heroes and villains. You have honor. Morals. Some may call you old fashioned, but there's a tradition to this whole evil business and you'll be damned if you let yourself break it. You offer hospitality to the heroes when you recognize you must, even when it gets in the way of your plans. You play dirty only when absolutely necessary. You honor your word and if you lose, it is with grace and dignity. You consider yourself classy, respectable, and while you realize you may be evil, you're not gonna let that make you an asshole.
Mm, yeah, I could see villain Dusk really sticking to the idea that just because he's working at cross purposes with 'heroes,' that doesn't mean he has to be a dick about it. I can't ... see him ever actually turning into one, but stranger things have happened, I suppose!
And hell, let's do a bonus round. What did you get, Mercuriel?
No Moral Compass
You are cold, analytical, and you strive to be as objective a person of flesh and blood can be. Either don't understand the concepts of good and evil, or you understand it perfectly and think it's a load of bull. Some may call you selfish, some may call you unfeeling, but you're just doing what you believe will yield the best results, plain and simple. Why bother with petty ideals of right or wrong, when you can do what will actively help those you give a fuck about? Your goals may be selfish or noble or anything in between, but you will not let anyone make you feel like garbage for going after them. You couldn't care less about what people brand you as. You just care about getting shit done by any means necessary.
Mercuriel understands the concepts of good and evil, he assures you.
I shall tag @alixennial, @petitfarron, @joiedecombat, @eorzeanflowers, and @shamelessdisplay, although obviously I'm curious about pretty much anyone so if you wanna do it, do it, I say!
Quiz is here!
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Why are the riverlands stuck in early middle ages while the westerlands and other places are like already in renaissance fashion, what would be the in world explanation for that? I know that nobles from different southern regions probably don't have THAT much contact but still things like tournaments and intermarriages could be enough to bring influence from one region to another, no? So I kind of don't understand how fashions like of the stormlanders and riverlanders still exist and they didnt start to wear things like stiffened bodices and stays yet
not a critique, i'm only curious. your headcannon posts are always a feast for the eyes
I have a couple lines of reasoning actually
1. Straight up vibes.
2. Westeros is supposedly obscenely big (like South America size if I’m correct) and this is a pseudo-medieval fantasy, meaning that fashions travel and develop slowly. Though you are right some places should have adopted certain aspects of a fashion, but I imagine that they don’t either due to the climate or level of practicality. So yeah obviously people shouldn’t be wearing early medieval and high renaissance fashions at the same time, but I just try to give a vague guideline for my headcanons as to what people might wear, I don’t mean anything concrete by it! Again, since this is a fantasy, I tend to imagine these pieces of clothing as not exact expys of their historical counterparts, but inspired by them
#asoiaf hair and clothing#I think ab this a lot actually#but Westeros is fucking gigantic and things move slow and also different climate#or at least that’s my reasoning#though they should all have some similar base level of clothing
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I can't believe Will has the Justin Bieber. I haven't stopped thinking about it.
#It's NOT the bowl cut anymore guys#bowlcut =/= boy with bangs#it's the JUSTIN BIEBER#THEY GAVE HIM THE F*CKIN JUSTIN BIEBER#I mean 2010 justin was a hearthrob too so it checks out#justin didn't start this is what i'm learning actually a boy in a small town originated it 20 years earlier justin just claimed it#hair#will byers#stranger things 5#stranger things#they really said “we need mike to go out of his mind quick what heartthrob has a token hairstyle that would work in the 80s”#sarah hindsgaul i just wanna talk#genuinely i do though i'm curious about that hair video for season 5
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My braincells are once again running race-track style around a Flying Bark Studio production
#lmk#lego monkie kid#monkey king#sun wukong#monkie kid#mk#hokay srsly what is this kids name#very curious what sort of mouthful-but-coincidentally-is-perfect-cuz-he's-actually-the-monkie kid-now it is#sandy#sha wujing#sandy is best and mostest character#i wish i had a sandy figure in my life#designated driver who can build a whole-ass RV outta nowhere and has lots of cats but had to WORK to get this wholesome#i have no choice but to stan#he and uncle iroh would vibe and that's a damn high compliment to give#sun wukong needs to be super fluffy#for reasons#he does however get sopping wet kitten syndrome when it rains#also i love how i started watching this show now cuz i means i'm not suffering as much waiting for s5#i just got here :D so i have (some) patience to weather me thru the wait
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had an odd dream that i was reading a comic book. sketched a couple of the pages i could remember.
#i might adapt this into an actual story because i am SO SO SO mad that it isn't a thing i can go back to reading#oc#im definitely keeping the concept of save-bot i fucking love save-bot he's just doing his best. i love a robot who wants to help people#im not equipped to be writing about underground rebellions with any sense of real tact though#besides its in a superhero universe/story so you know it would just be so sucks lol#sketch#god the colors were so interesting. the teal parts were all very precisely crosshatched and the fire was this gorgeous brush pen looking#colored inks that just seemed like they were MOVING#and i mean some of that was because i was dreaming but god even in my halfhearted copy you can see some of the movement#it was a bad scene but a really really REALLY fun dream. i love when a book can *get* to me so i was really enjoying it#put it aside so i could take a break and woke up. instant fury at the universe for not having it be a real book instead#ill reblog with details if anyone's curious. i can explain this scene but i dont feel like it#the green people are in a secret basement though. hiding from the government. blue jacket guy is a speedster robot named save-bot who does#rescue stuff with every fire department so fire suppression technology is not very good because save-bot "can just save you''#however they're badly over their legal occupancy and the secret basement has One (1) exit so everyone is like really fucked here.#includinig save-bot who is going to do his job until he dies because he is an ai without any sense of self preservation and he cares#which i didn't even CATCH until i woke up and started tryin to frantically note everything down#and then i was like wait. the glitter on that last page before i realized i needed a glass of water to keep reading... what WAS that...#(it was tears suspended in midair because save-bot goes so fast and also knows he's so fucked LOL)#seriously i'm so mad someone else didn't make this.
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That recent art with Tim reminds me of the beetles interview when someone asked them if Ringo was the best drummer in the world and one of them replied "he's not even the best drummer in the beetles"
That joke is exactly what I was thinking of when I was drawing that art like I saw a description of a future Tim drakes Robin issue and my mind instantly went to "he's not even the best drummer in the beetles"
#Ask#Huntress-of-the-forest#But that is just me needing to bully Tim at all costs lmao#But now that I'm actually talking about it#I am curious why people say Tim is the best Robin#(not to sound mean at all for once I'm genuinely curious)#Like what makes a good Robin#And what would make any of the Robins the best Robin#Like it's not just the best hero#Bc that's dick you can't fight that#Best partner to batman#Well depends on the batman#Most helpful to Gotham can't really be measured fairly#Dc makes it sound so easy#To just keep repeating this ones the best#But should it even be a question#If anyone has any thoughts feel free to share#It's just such an interesting topic to me bc dc seem so adamant that it is Tim#Like they have to say it so there's a reason for Tim to still be Robin
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I have a request, if you haven't already done it before! How about your favorite of the made up stories from the Vargas parent teacher night sidefic? I like seeing them get along, haha
Day 15 - “Memory”
#My art#Requestober#Vargas#Scriabin#Edgar#You got me on two technicalities anon - I have already drawn one of the stories from Parent-Teacher Night#If you remember all the way back to the second sketchdump the very first picture is their first kiss ♥ Which I love very much!#Other than that one my favourite of the made up stories is actually Scriabin wishing he could set everything on fire lol#Not exactly one they constructed together but since it's impossible with his wings as they are ouq Doubly as they are!#Only in his own memories now ahh 💔#So picking one that I first of all remembered and then also enjoyed as much - ah that's a bit of a challenge actually lol#I'm still not rereading >:3c You can't trick me that easily! Haha ♪ But that means I pulled around from half-remembered images haha#I feel like I might've combined Christmas and rescuing Edgar from a party I don't remember if those were separate events lol#Ugly dog Christmas sweater?? Fuzzy fuzzy fuzzy brain lol#Pretty sure I had a different mental image when I first read as well but pfpshfsphpshsph it's fine lol#I mostly just wanted to draw them drinking happily together ♥ And I pulled the colours from their matching Christmas sweaters :D#It does make me curious what fake backstory scene resonates with everyone differently hmm ♪#Oh yeah and the two onlookers like ''Why are they arguing that sounds like a nice time but the tone they're telling it in...'' lol#Expectation vs. Reality haha#Oh I just remembered the proposal! Ahhh!!!#Well next time haha
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