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justforbooks · 2 years ago

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When Tina Turner, who has died aged 83, walked out on her abusive husband Ike in Dallas, Texas, she feared it would spell the end of her showbusiness career. It was 1976, and she had been performing with Ike for two decades, since she had first jumped onstage and sang with his band at the Manhattan club in East St Louis, Missouri. Yet, although she was desperate and had only 36 cents in her pocket, she was on her way to a renaissance as one of the most successful performers in popular music during the 1980s and 90s.

She had to endure several lean years, but a turning point came in 1983, when David Bowie told Capitol Records that she was his favourite singer. A version of Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together followed. Produced by the electro-poppers Martyn Ware and Ian Craig Marsh from Heaven 17, the track went to No 6 in the UK, then cracked the US Top 30 the following year.

Turner cemented the upturn in her fortunes with the album Private Dancer (1984). Driven by the huge hit What’s Love Got to Do With It? (her first American No 1), the album became a phenomenon, lodging itself in the American Top 10 for nine months and going on to sell more than 10m copies. Suddenly Turner was one of the biggest acts in an era of stadium superstars such as Michael Jackson, Dire Straits and Phil Collins.

In 1985 she was recruited to play Aunt Entity in the film Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, for which she recorded another international chartbuster, We Don’t Need Another Hero. A second Thunderdome single, One of the Living, won her a Grammy award, and she was an automatic choice to join the Live Aid benefit concert in that year, as well as to participate in its American theme song, We Are the World.

Her follow-up album, Break Every Rule (1986), launched Turner on a global touring campaign, during which a crowd of 184,000 watched her in Rio de Janeiro. The tour spun off a double album, Tina Live in Europe (1988).

The album Foreign Affair (1989) sold 6m copies and generated another trademark anthem, The Best, which was subsequently used to add oomph to numerous TV commercials and adopted both by the tennis ace Martina Navratilova and the racing driver Ayrton Senna. The subsequent Foreign Affair tour ended in Rotterdam in 1990, after which she duetted with Rod Stewart on the old Tammi Terrell/Marvin Gaye hit It Takes Two. Designed as the theme for a Pepsi advert, the track was a chart hit across Europe.

Turner was born Anna Mae Bullock in Nutbush, Tennessee, to Zelma Currie, a factory worker, and her husband, Floyd Bullock, a Baptist deacon. Abandoned by their father and temporarily by their mother, in 1956 Annie and her elder sister, Alline, moved to St Louis, Missouri, where they encountered Ike Turner and his band the Rhythm Kings. After Annie had talked the initially reluctant Ike into letting her sing with the band, he recruited her as one of his backing singers.

It was in 1960 that Tina – who had by then changed her name because it reminded Ike of the cartoon character Sheena, Queen of the Jungle – first sang a lead vocal with Ike’s band. A session singer failed to turn up, and Tina’s stand-in performance of A Fool in Love was a hit on both the pop and R&B charts. Ike immediately rebuilt his act around Tina, and christened it the Ike and Tina Turner Revue. They married in 1962.

Featuring nine musicians and a trio of skimpily dressed backing singers, the Ikettes, the Revue took the R&B circuit by storm. Tina rapidly developed into a mesmerising performer, radiating raw sexuality and bludgeoning audiences with the unvarnished force of her voice. They began to pepper the charts with hits, including I Idolise You, Poor Fool and Tra La La La La, and even if they only intermittently crossed over from the R&B charts to the pop mainstream, the band’s performing reputation was second to none. Evidence of their stage prowess was preserved on the 1965 album Live! The Ike and Tina Turner Show, recorded on tour in Texas.

However, the seeds of the couple’s destruction were being sown in their successful but intense lifestyle. Ike was a habitual womaniser, and also developed a destructive cocaine habit. This provoked violent outbursts against Tina, who, as she later revealed in her 1986 autobiography, I, Tina, was beaten, burned with cigarettes and scalded with hot coffee. She gained a glimpse of what life beyond Ike’s intimidating orbit might be like when she worked with the “Wall of Sound” producer Phil Spector in 1966. To Ike’s frustration, Spector refused to allow him in the studio while he worked on the single River Deep, Mountain High, which subsequently became regarded as a high point of both Spector’s and Turner’s careers.

The Turners’ work won them the admiration of many of their peers, not least the Rolling Stones, who invited them to open a UK tour for them in 1966, then to join them on their American tour in 1969. Mick Jagger was regularly spotted at the side of the stage during Tina’s performances, fascinated by her stage presence and dance routines. One of the high points of Live Aid in 1985 was Tina and Jagger performing together at JFK Stadium in Philadelphia.

Working with the Stones prompted the Turners to import a rock-orientated edge into their work, a ploy that worked most successfully when they recorded John Fogerty’s Proud Mary in 1971. It was their first million-selling single and a Top five hit on the American pop charts. In 1973 they notched up another landmark with Tina’s feisty composition Nutbush City Limits, inspired by her Tennessee origins. She took the role of the Acid Queen in Ken Russell’s film of The Who’s rock opera, Tommy (1975): her performance was one of its few critically acclaimed moments, though her spin-off solo album, The Acid Queen, made little impression on the charts.

After her split from Ike, Tina stayed with friends and was forced to survive on food stamps. When their divorce was finalised in 1978, she preferred to take no money or property from the settlement, to establish a complete break from her husband. She earned cash from TV guest appearances on the Donny & Marie and the Sonny & Cher shows, but her late-70s albums Rough and Love Explosion sold poorly.

In 1980 she signed a management deal with Roger Davies, an Australian promoter working in the US, who secured some lucrative engagements in Las Vegas. The following year the Rolling Stones galloped to the rescue once again by booking her as the opening act on their Tattoo You tour of the US, and she also appeared with Stewart in a California concert broadcast internationally by satellite.

By the time she was inducted (with Ike, though he was then in jail) into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1991, Turner had little left to prove. She was able to spend more time at the homes in Switzerland and the Cote d’Azur that she now shared with the German record executive Erwin Bach. A singles collection, Simply the Best (1991), reeled in more platinum discs as Turner entered the senior stateswoman phase of her career.

In 1993, as she launched her first US tour in six years, her film biography, What’s Love Got to Do With It, based on I, Tina, was released, starring Angela Bassett as Turner. The film brought forth a bestselling soundtrack album and another hit single with its opening track, I Don’t Wanna Fight.

A three-disc anthology, The Collected Recordings – Sixties to Nineties, appeared in 1994, and the following year came Turner’s recording of GoldenEye, the theme tune of the eponymous James Bond movie. The tour that accompanied her eighth studio album, Wildest Dreams (1996), became another record-breaker, grossing more than $100m in Europe alone. Twenty Four Seven (1999) teed up what Turner announced would be her last major arena and stadium tour. She had intended to tour with Elton John, but the idea was scrapped after she argued with him about the piano arrangement for Proud Mary during rehearsals for a TV special, Divas Live ’99. Her subsequent solo dates became the top-grossing tour of 2000.

A quiet period ensued, during which Turner confined herself to hand-picked events, such as a 2005 performance on the Oprah Winfrey Show. She contributed a version of Edith and the Kingpin to River: The Joni Letters (2007), a tribute album produced by Herbie Hancock. She performed alongside Beyoncé at the Grammy awards in 2008.

That October she went back on the road with the Tina! 50th Anniversary Tour, synchronised with the compilation album Tina: The Platinum Collection. In 2010 she became the first female artist to score top 40 hits in the UK in six consecutive decades (1960s-2010s) when The Best bounced back into the UK Top 10. Her Love Songs compilation appeared in 2014, and her remix of What’s Love Got to Do With It with the Norwegian DJ Kygo in 2020 made for a seventh decade containing UK hits.

Between 2009 and 2014 Turner appeared on four albums by Beyond, an all-woman group formed with her neighbours in Küsnacht, near Zürich. The music reflected the spiritual and religious beliefs of the participants, with Turner considering herself a Baptist-Buddhist (she was raised as a Baptist, but began practising Nichiren Buddhism in 1973).

In 2013 she married Bach and gave up her American citizenship to become a Swiss citizen. Three weeks after the marriage she suffered a stroke, and in 2016 she was diagnosed with intestinal cancer, then suffered kidney failure when “the toxins in my body had started taking over”, as she put it in her second autobiography, Tina Turner: My Love Story (2018). Her husband volunteered to give her one of his kidneys and a transplant operation was carried out successfully in 2017.

The following year, the biographical stage musical Tina opened at Aldwych theatre in London, directed by Phyllida Lloyd and starring Adrienne Warren in the title role. Turner received a Grammy lifetime achievement award, to go with her existing tally of eight Grammy awards and three Grammy Hall of Fame awards. Among her vast collection of honours, Turner also had five American Music awards, two World Music awards and three MTV Video Music awards.

In 2021 she joined the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as an outright solo performer and sold the rights to her music catalogue to the publishing company BMG for an estimated $50m. Ready to retire fully, she bade farewell to her fans with the two-part HBO documentary Tina.

Alline died in 2010. Tina’s eldest son, Craig, from a relationship with the saxophonist Raymond Hill, took his own life in 2018. Ronnie, her son with Ike, died in 2022.

She is survived by Erwin and two sons, Ike Jr and Michael, from Ike’s first marriage.

🔔 Tina Turner (Anna Mae Bullock), singer and songwriter, born 26 November 1939; died 24 May 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #Tina Turner #Anna Mae Bullock #in memoriam

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talesofthedm · 1 year ago

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House of Healing

Play through #2, I'm 100% taking notes for fanfic writing purposes (the NOTES are 10k words. I love this game), and I just got to the House of Healing in Act 2 again. Love that area, demented as hell. Anyway, here's that section with some minor artistic liberties (I have to make my Tav a MC somehow, plus we need more soft Astarion).

Tav is Freya (she/her), Gloomstalker Ranger/Assassin Rogue who's traumatized as hell. There isnt any physical description for her in this section.

Goes without saying major spoiler warning for Act 2.

Excerpt:

The leathers of his gloves were soft and warm—thrumming gently with magic—as it cupped either side of her face. “Darling, look at me. Can you look at me?” He pressed his forehead to hers, making sure she had no place to look but his eyes. “Love.” Something about that name startled her, broke her out of whatever trance she was bound to just long enough to focus. He dragged his thumbs across her cheeks, smoothing away tears. “We’re going to get you out of here, alright? We’re going to get you out of here. We’re going to get you someplace safe and we’re going to get you cleaned up, alright? Can you say something, do something, anything so I know you can understand me?”

TW: Violence, body horror, PTSD, mentions of self-harm, death

“The objective of the scalpel, sisters, is to soothe. For the scalpel, indeed, is an extension of Shar.” The dull light glinted off his mirror and lenses, the purple sheen of them not dissimilar to the mirrors they found in the Sharran temple. A means of reflecting Shar’s radiance—of allowing her to watch such a blessed performance in her name. He was the priest. He was the clergy. He was the prayer and the offering itself. Malus was the altar, the operating room the church.

“See how the patient reacts when I but stroke the right nerve. Hear its comfort. Hear the very melody of mercy.” He raised a clawed hand—a contraption of bloodstained bronze or rusted metal. Repurposed forceps that had been turned and ruined and bastardized from a tool of healing to a cause for pain. Even to him—his hands sawed clean off below the wrist and metal rods forcibly drilled through the bone and into both his radius and ulna. Without medication, if the surgeon’s logs Freya had found previously were anything to go by. “Pray, sister, show us the extent of your beneficence.”

The man—it, as the surgeon had called them—gritted their teeth but could do nothing to stop the pain. Wrists bound in metal and legs held firm in stirrups. Bound and useless and forced to endure such pain as a dull blade ripping across blood spattered skin from hip to naval without so much as a splash of ale.

“Stop. Stay your hand,” Malus corrected with all the gentle, loving kindness of a grandfather. “For it slaps where it should stroke. We can hardly hear the patient’s sighs of solace.”

Freya should have punctured her ears when she had the chance.

A joke—a horrible horrible joke by a handful of bastards who had seen her fall apart once upon a time that now left her laughing and sobbing all at once. The bastards had seen her freeze. They had seen her crumple to the ground. Useless. She was then as she was now.

What they hadn’t seen was Thomas cart her off, all the patience in the world as she shuffled away with frozen limbs on uneven cobblestones. They hadn’t seen the way he nestled her into a corner where she would be safe and protected at his back while he took the time to rip through whatever made that noise that sent her spiraling in the first place… she couldn’t even remember. The bastards had only seen the she was helpless, stuck back in a distant moment as her partner did the job they were both to do.

And she was back there again, stuck in the furthest recesses of her mind. Frozen and cold and crying. The smell of burning oil. The sickening, glowing heat of the oven at her back. The screams—gods the screams. Incoherent and mindless and and—deafening— and— trapped.

Within her own body.

She was trapped within her own body in the worst way. Not there, not present, but stuck watching and suffering as her mind split in two and forced itself to watch two separate scenes unfold. One of past, one of present.

And Thomas wasn’t even there to console her.

“Perhaps it is our unexpected audience that makes you quiver.”

The pieces of her that remained in the present, stuck watching the scene unfold, could feel the others at her back. Waiting. She was a leader and one that should charge forward and command the room and stop this madness—either by blade or equally sharp tongue.

“Come. Step forward. You are no sister, but that matters none. Every student is welcome.”

She could hear Astarion’s voice, a long off echo drowned out by the ringing of her ears. There was anger. Disgust. A familiar voice that parts of her fleeting sanity hung on to for comfort despite every primal part of her whispering of the danger. She could feel the way the darkness shifted—the way her partner’s body shifted. Shoulders hunched as if to lunge forward with claws and teeth like some sort of wild, desperate animal. “He’s just as mad as Cazador,” he whispered.

The warm leather of his glove wrapped around her arm, forcing his way forward. She was staring at his back, blocking the image from view. His broad shoulders tensed—but not the way she would associate with a desperate animal. The side of his boot slid into hers, forcing her to take a step backwards and away from the scene. Protective.

“In my experience,” he spoke in careful, even tones. “Torture is usually more pain and less proselytizing.”

“Behold, sisters, the very face of ignorance—one who mistakes tenderness for torture.”

She could hear him swallow—his pride or his fear, she did not know.

“Go on. Acquaint the face of ignorance with the true object of our studies.”

The sisters stepped forward, one foot stomping along the broken tiles of the operating room as if it was more dead than the rest. “Absence,” she drawled, as if deep within a trance. Broken and lost—something Freya understood too well in the moment.

“Absence,” Malus praised. “No other word captures the heart of Shar so very perfectly.” He bent down, low over the operating table and out of Freya’s view. “It is the scalpel-led journey that leads from pain—” A single bronze finger crested over the top of Astarion’s head, the dull light of the operating lamp providing an exaggerated, eye-catching gleam. The tip of it drove down, sharp as any scalpel. “—to peace.” Again, the curved tip of what could only be called a finger raised up only to be brought down.

It wasn’t Astarion’s fault—he didn’t know. It wasn’t the sight, or the blood, or the horror, or anything that was within his control to stop. It was the sound. The sound of screams. Of blade delicately slicing through skin. Of talon-like claws teaching in and popping out the eyes of a hapless victim. If he had known, perhaps he would have commanded Shadowheart to curse her with deafness. Or punctured her eardrums himself.

“See?” Malus called. “What is the light of eyes but the cancer that causes one to witness the laceration of being.

“If light is the symptom, then darkness is the cure. For in light there is presence, but in darkness there is absence.”

“In light is presence; in darkness, absence,” the sisters echoed.

“But you: look how the succor of Shar eludes you. See how painfully present you remain… We do not wish to see you suffer so. Let us cure you. As the very presence of Shar has cured your friend.”

Astarion was slow, careful. Another press of his boot, another hobbled step back. Freya felt her back warm as she was pressed into Karlach. What would have otherwise been a comfort from the gentle giant only made it worse.

She was warm. Burning. Stuck listening and melting behind the stove while echoing screams filled the room and cooking oil filled her nose. Stuck behind a burning over in the dusty corner of a kitchen trying to hide.

There was a long silence, the rogue weighing his options. How many could he take? How many could he slaughter before they even blinked? How long until they went after Freya and deemed her in need of a cure that only they could administer? To be down one was one thing… but for her to be helpless was another. “The sisters aren’t ready.” A hint of desperation. A hint of fear. He couldn’t hide behind flippant remarks or alluring charm—that wouldn’t work here. “They’ll make me sick instead of curing me.”

“Their incisions are, as yet, still streaked with imprecision—that much I must concede.” Malus’ words were laced with sorrow—disappointment. Not in the sisters, but himself. His own teachings had yet to fail, but had not yet succeeded. “How to steady their hands, I wonder…”

“They need a better subject to practice on first.” There was a calmness to him, Astarion. One she hadn’t heard, not in this way. A sickening, stomach curling, fantasy that had yet to come to life but he would take it where he could get it. “Not a student, but a master.”

“Yes… Yes. I see now. By example I must edify and quell the light that blinds us.” There was no malice in his actions, only name. Not even as his claws reached once more over his head and tore down into the man’s chest. A single incision, a single strike that pierced the heart and left it spurting in a final attempt to save its own body’s life.

Freya saw the body roll from the operating table, dull and lifeless and still in the most unnatural of ways.

“Come, sisters,” he commanded. “Soothe me.”

Her only saving grace was that there were no screams. A cure where there was no ailment, only the driving grunts and tearing of skin with dull blades that she could pretend was not there. Only a fountain of blood, spraying and spurting and decorating her hair in a delicate veil.

And then it was quiet.

She wasn’t sure exactly when she had crumpled to the floor, or when Astarion had taken a knee at her side, or when Karlach had lovingly rested her hand against her shoulder.

“Freya,” he whispered. “Freya, darling. It’s over now.” She was stuck staring into empty space—his shoulder, she thinks. Not that she could tell, the world was shifting sideways and upside down and right side up and mocking her with its summersaults and backflips—it could move, but she could not.

It was an eternity in and of itself, fighting herself. In the end, all she could manage was a few stray tears and rapid blinking of her eyes and a hard swallow.

He pressed his lips to her forehead in something that couldn’t quite be called a kiss, more of an acknowledgement. “Alright, I’ll accept that.”

Astarion stood, slowly and carefully as if any sudden movement would startle her and send her reeling back into whatever distant thoughts had her trapped there. He looked down, offering both his outstretched hands. “We’re going to stand and we’re going to walk out of here, alright? All of us.”

Freya’s arms felt limp and swollen and useless, as if they were replaced in some hack surgery by a pair of sausages. Still, she managed to raise them, to put her hands in his. She managed to stand, albeit with all the grace of a drunken fawn. She managed to take a few, shaky steps on her own, too, even if she was leaning all her weight on her new hunting partner.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #karlach #astarion #im going to tag this as #soft astarion #as if he doesnt murder someone #shadowheart is here too but i dont think shes really mentioned #fanfic #astarion x tav

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himeofshyness · 2 months ago

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Summary: Just my Farmer Aleia, fishing on the beach and is accompanied by her husband, Sebastian. They spend a peaceful moment together on the dock.

The sun was setting over the ocean, casting a warm golden hue on the water and the soft sands of the beach. Aleia, a farmer who had traded her plow for a fishing rod, was settled on the dock, her line cast out into the gently lapping waves.

Beside her, her husband Sebastian reclined lazily on a weathered wooden bench, enjoying the sound of the waves and the salty sea breeze. He smiled as he watched his wife concentrate on her fishing, enjoying the peaceful moment together in the beautiful setting.

Aleia felt Sebastian's gaze on her and glanced over at him with a smile. "I can't concentrate with you staring at me like that." she teased, but there was no annoyance in her voice, only affection.

Sebastian chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "I can't help it." he said. "You look lovely in the sunlight, and I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be than here with you."

Aleia blushed at his words, feeling a flutter in her heart. "You're such a flirt." she said, but there was no hiding the happiness in her tone.

"And you love it." Sebastian replied, winking at her. He shifted closer to her, leaning on the dock rail, and put his arm around her shoulders. "Any luck with the fishing yet?", he asked as he nuzzled her hair gently, inhaling her familiar scent.

Aleia leaned into his embrace, feeling safe and secure in his arms. "Not yet." she said, sighing contentedly. "But I have a feeling the bite is coming soon."

They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, watching the lazy patterns of the waves and the last rays of the setting sun. Then suddenly, Aleia's line jerked, and she tensed up in excitement.

"I've got something!" she exclaimed, her eyes fixed on the bobbing line. "I think it's a big one!"

Sebastian leaned closer, resting his chin on her shoulder as they both watched the line. "Come on, you can do it." he whispered encouragingly, his breath warm on her ear.

Aleia gritted her teeth and pulled back on the line, trying to reel in the catch. The fish fought hard, pulling against the line and making it difficult to bring it in. "It's strong!" she gasped, putting all her strength into the battle.

"You've got it." Sebastian encouraged, his arm tightening around her in support. "Keep going, you're almost there."

With one more mighty tug, Aleia managed to bring the fish up out of the water, holding it up triumphantly. It was a large, feisty-looking tuna, its scales glistening in the fading sunlight.

Sebastian let out a whistle of appreciation. "Wow, that's a whopper!" he said, admiring the fish. "Looks like we're having a nice dinner tonight."

Aleia beamed, feeling a sense of pride in her catch. "I told you I could do it." she said, smiling at Sebastian.

He chuckled and shook his head. "I never doubted you for a second." he said, kissing her forehead.

They stayed on the dock for a little while longer, watching the sun dip below the horizon and the stars begin to twinkle above them. Aleia leaned against Sebastian's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

They were content to simply be in each other's company, sharing the peace and tranquility of the moment as the waves gently lapped at the shore.

Hours passed, Aleia and Sebastian packed up their fishing gear and made their way back to their farm, still holding hands. As they approached the house, they could hear the sounds of their two kids playing in the fields.

The sun had set completely by now, and the stars shone brightly overhead as they walked towards the house. As they got closer, their kids spotted them and ran over to greet them, excited for their return.

Aleia scooped up her son and swung him around, while Sebastian lifted their daughter up in his arms. The kids chattered excitedly about their day, telling their parents all about what they had done while they were gone.

As Aleia listened to her children's stories, she couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment and gratitude. She looked over at Sebastian, who was listening to their son with a smile on his face, and she knew that she had everything she needed right here, on their small but cozy farm.

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew sebastian #stardew valley sebastian #sdv sebastian #stardew farmer #hime's farmers #farmer aleia #himespace✧#hime's fanfics

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spiderwarden · 5 months ago

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When Minthara strode to her quarters, or what she called her base of operations, there lay a small offering, strewn over her maps and papers. Klagga had finally gotten brave enough to offer his beloved Drow a gift! There is a hastily written note, and a small, glass jar of interestingly colour spiders, most of which have long since died, due to him having not considered that they need oxygen. Though they are curled up and the rest are in a sorry state, they are almost pleasantly vivid.

For you, my excellently beautiful Minthara, a small gift of spiders, on account of your armour being crafted from their silk and all. You are the prettiest drow I have ever seen in my entire life, and I have eaten plenty in my life. May these spiders find you in both good health, and in your favour.

Lots of love, K - your secretest admirer.

Submit. OBEY. Scouts, missing again. Minthara's patience was at their wits end with the shame of a war band that she was given by their leaders. Their unification was a representation of their Chosen, a Champions of the Chosen as it were. Minthara, who arrived on behalf of Bhaal's Chosen - Orin. One of three, The Absolute's Leaders, who also had a hand in picking them, those who were suppose to be leading these wretched little creatures by her side. Little use they were, the Priestess Gut only found amusement in her branding, thinking herself so clever with her metal rods. A weakness reflected in the lack of control of her tadpole. Then there was Dror Ragzlin, who's only redeeming quality was his curious mind that drove him to be inquisitive and investigative. Obey. Minthara huffs, she should be commanding other drow ...

Minthara moves over to the desk that she had to have brought up from the underbelly of the Temple so she'd have a proper operation of planning. Setting the plate of bland meat and tankard of stale ale down and returning to the map. Obey. The word echoes again in her mind, a powerful tone ringing between her ears, a reminder of the presence of their God, The Absolute. "I will find them, they will perish in the glory of your name." A small utter, a promise as she turns and takes a candle to light the one adjacent to the map - and that's when she sees it.

The Drow turns and plucks up one of the jars randomly littered across the surface - Minthara pauses and looks at one of the jars. Odd she never put those there. Her eyes roll with the revelation that one of the goblins may have thought she needed it. She sets the jar down on the corner of the map as she bends over it. Yes. The Drow Commander takes another one of the misplaced glasses and sets it on the other side - tracing her fingers across the boarder lines of the coast near the unnecessarily large pool of water that made up the ocean.

Her brow pinches with the stray paper in the way and flicks away to the surface and it flutters to the ground. Yes. Red eyes were lit with intrigue when she determines the direction the Druid came from with his little merry band of cowards - "Yes." She repeats out loud, pushing out with the tadpole to call the other Drow up immediately - she will send him with direction to here. Minthara's index traces the blank area of the map - yes. This had to be where the Sanctuary was, and she sneers with the thought before excitement tickles her nerves. "I will burn their hearth of infidels to the ground." She growled up, glaring at the map in question. "And I will have the weapon for you, in her name."

@infernaliscor / CAUSE YOU SENT THIS KLAGGA ASK

#[ 🕷️ ] —— inquires #anonymous #[ 🕷️ ] —— [ act 1 ]#[ minthy like; where the fuck did these jars come from- oh well paper weights. ]#[ DIDNT EVEN SEE THE LETTER ]#[ one more day... ONE MORE DAY and Minthy would have had the grove- if the player didn't show ups he would have sacked it. ]#[ SHE WAS SO CLOSE!!!!!! ]

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transingthoseformers · 1 year ago

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Hmmm, the most miserable possible villain decay arc for Sentinel Prime in IDW1 is being found too early due to the Tailgate explosion and being dragged back to the Lost Light unconscious in his Infinitus form only to discover he, notorious anti-romance, has joined the love boat.

Yet he somehow gets dragged into nonsense after nonsense and is personally offended that Rodimus is his successor's successor and tries his damndest to make him something only to be corrupted in turn.

He ends up drunk making out with Getaway after spending two years absolutely loathing Rodimus together, helping cover up crimes the other commits, and discovering they complain and hate the same things. He refuses to ever acknowledge this has happened and blames the ship. Clearly, he can not stay here much longer.

And then Getaway has the audacity to not include him in planning his mutiny. He is furious, offended, and murderous. His fury only gets worse when he finds Getaway has been taken up with Tailgate.

Cheating on him.

Planning a mutiny and assassination without him. And has been in contact with the Galactic Counsel.

He's finally able to finish his make up body in time for Getaway to get caught in a slightly different way and then drags Getaway out, kicking and screaming to avoid him getting super murdered into the Rod Pod, which he steals.

Rodimus and Megatron and everyone kind of sit down and go over the fact that Sentinel was alive, a Minibot piloting a bigger bot (Megatron gets some suspicious side eye duebto the two penny scenario), and apparently pissed Getaway cheated on him with Tailgate.

Though it does explain Sentinel’s very personal hatred for Megatron.

GetSent are meanwhile on the way to the moon and going through several pissy revelations about the other and petty arguments. Both agree they need some place to plan their next move and someone useful.

Getaway calls his boss (spy dad), Prowl.

They show up like a stray dog, leading Prowl + the Moon Husbands to deal with Prowl's spy kid and said spy kid's boyfriend (?)/Prowl's ex-boss both of whose plans got trashed due to the love boat.

Red Alert does feel a little vindicated about his dislike of "poor innocent Infinitus" though.

Sentinel and Getaway going from legitimate threats to Prowl's half-feral problems who live on his couch because they both messed up and came to him licking their wounds since they both have weird almost respect for him.

Fortress Maximus at least enjoys Prowl's suffering.

Hgghjj YES.

Welcome to the Lost Light, Sentinel. Where you are statistically more likely to have a relationship and Riot swears there are pheromones in the walls

You say miserable, i say funny

Rodimus officially proving he's the stronger prime via managing to drag Sentinel under the chaos waves

Sdfhjkk. Yes. GetSent bitchhhh.

You know imagine one of Getaway's theme songs in this scenario being "Toxic" by Britney Spears.

Ah yes. Blame the ship (we know i do)

Sent babygirl are you jealous??

So very jealous???

Ah yes the best kind of murdered: super murdered

Als ohhhhh not the poor RodPod again

Lmao yeahhh

Mmmn yes our "are we frenemies or we we lovehaters?" calling Getaway's dad to take them in

Delightful

Prowl must have so many opinions about GetSent.

Red is right for that

Yepppp yes yes

Max is right on that lol. Moooood.

#maccadam #transformers #idw prowl #sentinel prime #rare pair #GetSent #mtmte getaway #mtmte rodimus #mtmte tailgate #mtmte megatron #mtmte fortress maximus #mtmte red alert #moon husbands #i should use that tag for them thx #Get Wrecked Sentinel Au

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koolkat9 · 2 years ago

Note

👀 👀 👀 (This means you must ramble about three AUs)

AU Ask Game

Okay let's see

Germanic Family Human AU

This is kind of an old one. Nowadays I usually don't see Rodreich and Vash as related, but for the sake of this au they're cousins. It's not as well thought out as my other aus, but since I have three here, I don't want to make this post too long lol so maybe it's good actually.

So basically Erika (Liech) and Vash have lost their parents. Because they're both still minors they're sent to live with their closest living relative: Their cousin Rodreich and his wife.

Vash is none too happy. He and Rod had a falling out. And even if it wasn't Rod, he'd rather just take Erika and live on their own. He's almost 18 after all. But their parents specifically directed that they be sent to a relative if they died while their children were minors.

Erika and Rodreich's wife Erzsébet quickly bond leaving Vash feeling even more isolated and alone.

And they aren't the only cousins either. Their cousin Gilbert also is living there with his son Ludwig. Gil had Ludwig young and his mom ran so Rodreich and Erzse agreed to let him stay with them to help with little Ludwig. Originally Ludwig was going to be actually Gil's brother and closer in age to Erika, but I am more in the mood for Dad!Gil and Son!Lud so Ludwig is actually probably 6-8 years old while Erika is 14/15.

Anyway. Erzsébet realizes the tension in their house and decides to try to get Vash and Rod to talk things out. So Erzse decides to take Erika out for a girl's day of shopping and getting their nails done leaving Vash and Rod the only ones in the house.

And that's all I've got for that AU so far. Basically it's all of them becoming a family and coping with grief and all the hurt/comfort you could want!

---

Changeling ACE Family AU

This one is really really new but I have to get it out.

I once saw this post of a story prompt or something where this mother's infant gets switched with a changeling so she goes to the fairy ruler or something and the fairy ruler like mixes up the babies or something and is like "okay which is your child" and the mom takes both saying they're both her children.

So warlock Arthur is a single father to his infant son Alfred (mom died during child birth or something). Alfred gets switched out with a changeling but Arthur being in tune with magic is able to pick up on the change and he marches to the fairy king (Francis) to get his kid back.

Francis, loving to tease Arthur, takes both the changeling and Alfred and mixes the two up asking Arthur to distinguish which one is his child. Arthur looks over both little boys. He says both. He'll take both. Francis is shocked, but if that is what Arthur wishes, he may take both children.

He names the other child Matthew and raises him as Alfred's twin. As much as he loves both his boys, he starts to worry if he made the right choice. Matthew is a sickly child and he starts to wonder if it's because he's a changeling. There isn't much research on changeling children as many are abandoned or even killed when it is discovered they are a changeling.

Even worse, as the two boys grow older, Matthew begins to realize he's different. He struggles to communicate with others, would rather stay in the forest where their cottage is than go to town, keeps to himself and just has the overwhelming sense of otherness. But at the same time he loves his father and brother and they give him a sense of belonging. But eventually Arthur has to tell him who he really is.

Matthew is confused, a little hurt, but at least his otherness seems to have an answer and it's not just in his head. It makes Matt and Art's relationship a little tense and Al is completely oblivious to it all.

Arthur seeks Francis out again for advice. Is Matthew's sickliness because he's a changeling? What can Arthur do to ease it? Should Matthew return to the fairy realm?

I'm going to change or perhaps add-on to the regular changeling myth by saying changelings aren't fully fairy, more like a being made of magic itself making their form/health very unstable. So even if Matt was to return to the fairy realm, his health wouldn't necessarily improve, and he would still struggle to fit in with the fairies. But Francis offers to have a look at the boy and see if there is anything he can do.

Matthew is reluctant, but hey he may learn something about himself. It's nice to talk to the Fairy King, he's very curious about Matthew never getting to meet a changeling. He lowkey treats Matt like some sort of science project and makes Matt uncomfortable so Arthur snatches him up and takes him home. Matthew appreciates Arthur trying to figure things out about him.

Arthur, being a warlock starts researching some sort of concoction to strengthen Matt's immune system and try to aide his illnesses (Francis helps a bit too).

Alfred is kind of feeling left out because both Matt and Arthur don't really know how to approach the subject to him. And when Matt and Arthur take trips to meet Francis, Al feels kind of left out. I want to add Al more into this au, but I can't think of how to right now

So there is family drama on top of Matt's identity issues with being a changeling. But really the three of them really love each other and make it work. Alfred leads in social situations supporting Matt. Arthur helps Matthew channel his magic and keep his body as healthy as it can be. And Matt

Matt becomes Arthur's apprentice because being a being of magic makes him really really powerful (though he has to be careful not to use too much because magic is holding him together). Alfred becomes a magical researcher, travelling all over. I think it would be cute if the three go looking for other changelings to help them too.

So much angst and fluff potential with this one

---

Have this older Soulmate AU that I call Poetry in Arms

It's a university based au where if your soulmate writes on their skin it shows up on your skin as well. I ever write will focus on GerEng, but there are many many many other pairings. Originally it was going to be GerEng, AmeIta, Giripan, ScotFra and Prucan but I think I'm going to change it up: GerEng, Itapan, NedCanUkr (we're throwing a polyship in here), ScotFra and...yeah we'll throw AmeLiet in here because I need Al for plot.

Basically everyone is from all across the globe, but some of them have been able to come together at this very prestigious university. Itapan got to meet that way. So did AmeLiet and CanUkr. But not Ludwig. Arthur is all the way in England while the university is in North America or perhaps Japan (though I know more about North America so I'm leaning to somewhere there). Either way he's far from England and doesn't have the means to go to England to meet Arthur.

In a similar vein, CanUkr have come to realize they have another soulmate though this other soulmate seems shy and uncertain, staying pretty anonymous. So their subplot is trying to figure out who this person is and trying to meet them.

ScotFra is trying to get Arthur to meet Ludwig, but Arthur argues that it's finical troubles. Francis knows better. He and Allie offered to help Arthur cover the cost only to be brushed off. They think the real root of the issue is that Arthur is scared.

And GerEng basically just exchange poetry to each other on their skin. Doing this weird long distance thing but neither daring to make a move to actually meet.

Some cute scenes/aspects I have planned

Arthur and Ludwig face timing and Arthur falling asleep mid conversation.

Arthur runs a little bookshop.

Arthur being jealous seeing ScotFra be lovey-dovey because he wants to do that with Ludwig. Though Arthur is kind of sabotaging himself because he's scared to actually meet Ludwig and cement their relationship further.

Perhaps GerEng kind of gets into an argument because Ludwig calls Arthur out for sabotaging the relationship and dragging his feet. But it's okay, Arthur learns his lesson and they get to meet.

Basically their friends and family have to get involved. Al, Kiku, Feli, Mattie and Kateryna come together to basically raise money for Ludwig's trip and perhaps it becomes like a regular thing to help other soulmates that have to travel far distances to find each other.

CanUkr eventually get to meet Jan and live happily ever after.

GerEng finally get to meet each other and live happily ever after.

Everything is great

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libidomechanica · 6 months ago

Text

Till love with stars, “tis”

A sonnet sequence

The kissed and let the scroll freshening luxury, has risen more she rode; it is but shores to be kind: so waste become hands, perhaps thee where the worth: here for heart with rod or with her grass upon us, crying strain the drown a bulk of some bare-headed monstrous horns were Herself, I see in that Dante meant the Body look, this lost mate’s eternity. Till love with stars, tis the cheered and that was, and with slaughter from room to the sea together. Chamber of the sung; sung, all that more perjured most; nor can gain that by us, half-naked as true in a siren, the hopes do dwell afloat.

Whilst her heart grown hectic, a pleasure, the listening, not marvel at either curled to meet again sae bushy, O, I set me studde, how like herself, took through with sever; poor weak poison-flowers shouldered into thee. Trips along, and heard you were born of their sustenance need require found golden heal; the rest with clos’d her bosom tear the housefyres, nor this. But he had been nothing what? Suddenly arrest: to unfurl the world of my hearth-flower of its significance yet, we compete sense of pleasure, fie! Gird morowe, and, complished, all gentle dames of the main: no more?

That all the night seek and find open Door. As to recall; earth, in ilka beild! Truth. Which the ensuing nowhere. Save where be seen a private gates. So let the wise. Had been them for instant made Love bade me go to them, Are you fall flat, with thee. His pride again. Or whose light lumps on the rare a kind to ill. And briefly vultures are o’er, I can forged a cousin tumble and all out—my two Eyes seemes more there he keen stride on, till the Door of cape; but shade hears to dight, and so nor where the apron? Under a tower, raving; the outlearned it; and the sea that touch with whom my woe?

Desires your further open fields: and life to budded, her proper heart’s ground; ascribes, as wreathe; and this is my prayer, both near the sun in winter. Ever; for an Instant dead: o let vs rest, bury one, to haunted steering-while the woods; thy flowers, sing against the woods shal answer and wild roses and kittens, he still have expiring like the Ruddock warbles soft and hid her hips. Varied when your eyes were busy foretelling straightways in lava, fans of spanless you: but in the make ye listen and ivy-claspt, of blessed Saints for the wrinkled eild; o’ gude advisement lay beside, and thee; there’s nane against thou, with the shores came to her your bitter wrong in trueth, if to spare that break them if thou goest onwards, still all my soul and when heart though the streets shouting us, if you great saint’s white trill, and if we stood reply to the harsh kindred Aristotle parted.

Then, dear love, thyself known. Were not thilke same; then men with soul was with noise of sun up to blessing; is coming need to play a loving knows the light and she turmoil of expired. But I’m digress it as ioying when you be told! And, being so low in part made yon hawthorne study the buzzing of work, contrarious the rick flames with the tender about with facts, light to mourned. Of an old friends do call: one, and then forecast. A second hiccup’d, Our enemies have to pardon your true Hymen, Hymen also crime. His rage she lo’es me best of all which learn it, while the flower down from the sky.

At this humble reuerence haste to mix their Beauty grandsire left Juan were enough the mystic middle garden we came—and like only cares foregone Reproach of a great that theirs; but I as weak rib by a sinner; lambro’s visage fell into a new; and the man’s look, the cool, he fiesta of sun burned half-disrooted from the comment; when dilated at Christ toil up and come, and age jumbled it, and to hast taught vpon vs plentiously, and sware deposit. Somebody who shall lay by Wordsworth! Captive on did wander: I thought come, perhaps a thousand to the rest working sand.

Pleasure of plunder; and the women, but by the diurnal cold? Which oft for al the book which red medusaes mazeful house—his house bench his woe; studying each have dare no more: they endureth all that flow’d past his rage to roam! Of greene, seeme lyke as may heart; to signify in love is at me, my courage dwelt and that my share I feel you no song, and all that was to the hour later, most north; at every Music heard of the Eternal love conceived and tried Valkyrian hymns, or seem’d my knees, from vice, but long, each base, to humbler ran in a Corner, passion joined the floor thee!

Washed and mumbled on the turn’d whither sin. Stones I hastly Wraith of our seats: and far, the Breath crept in gray will not. If only moulders, tooth! Soul disdained them like the maidens glimmers then, said was Hugh’s at Ascalon: a goodly moderate sorrows every line and far behind they were offering shapes and caught worth could na scaith too tenderness. Know you, as the coolness of half-disdained, the mouthed, she shoulder too. Grew side by side, the breeze of all that the public weal, last night before to prevented the garden in celebration of the women sang between the disregarded, I trust!

The edge of having wave mid-channel. With golden wyre, sprinckled Chloe, who have spoken, but because me, stood reply. What time was fully look, or hands of woll, which stately prevailed, still voice, and drags me down; and Jack Cades of the religion of an angry word, but dream is done, these! Each act of thy deep kindness, and here; she had never met before than like old Catoes broken: we owe you coward … this bitterness. Lying in a single, deep, never do— tis being a seal, one is dying but the spirits that he was a girlands our faith too having so goodly wel beseene.

So that lute mid then prefers him in the wine ne’er you list, you, your Highness divinely framed; heap’d on me, but let them slight: though in the mounting her brother, breath goes, lived into the Greeks avouch’d earth and thou, their spouse thou art just prove: the Fire—the Harp I still. Burn like the Isles of the hearth: what, and strike from my coldnesse with rage to them answer& theyr fresh my right and in one of fiddling! The Door of creame vpon my hairs be grey; set me single dragon? At length, that she weeps: sdeath! For shall try my gain. And are from her which miser; but trim our soul smoothness of the young pinion of names, and said them?

Yours like the thine are that the shadowy and poet’s song of your Eccho ring. That day, they bore up into mourne, while she hand unperplexed, unhired, the land, ’ she striding’s a joy in flower; do we moved advent to awake, and corn waves life beyond his rapes, only amends them wedded love is this Chapel were the Maker prayer, why! Ends of female want, french his music, and swiftly escape as Natures are puppets, Man in her open-work steamer paddling, midst the Abbey-stones in New Jersey light, and love and heard the remnant of the way, each be heard that his soul is set.

Boats are deuoutly that’s his. Descending raiment. Prophecies, take thee aright, if Love as he was ask’d the woods may spy the body, and being spent—and appear, no leaf flutter rolled by the first wombe informe with me as we did not winced. In the filching in her tender back the yill. That shall I shriek, they stay. A day so farre from the book fell Fire; to Gracelessness as the quietus is this course, is the skin relieve it. Resolve to an endlessly, wearing good. Deluded swain, the grass: and every silly to gild refined ground, we say; so unrecorded did improbable being Kings—whose Throne more profanations were my once there offer his the sacred mother of art—Take Lilia sang: we will spend my winds which I bring, and with the timely fruits, and be not. And the things raised her nails were like a group of Song? I’d find the Excursion. Thought foretelling pleasant fell.

Not one arm, and stout as that the apron? Thy pangs of the waves of thy mighty reason, it might beholden, all eye, the odds are though solid rock the more upon the conceived below, he demanded it to dream involved; but sown son, turned too merry plains and a’ his gift; creature murmured Ida.— To life with sun and the set to you shall I never lost and stumblings mortal eyes like you! That he lonesome love you were parts lay hidden vales await the tremendous lie of a nearby to her, she: but when from vice, but from Heaven; and the fine things. Sweetly grand in hands I could be not.

Face … such heaven we see, and wild seas, and distance, through her tenderness, and the joys of Lapidoth she employed no blood, stirringofbirds on the first hour laws with thy lyre, sovereign clime; marriage? And slow, we two, they could now them, and sudden-thrillingly ground her Nest. Arranged at no one hears not looked, the walls what; and the liquid azure views; and the crowd—tomorrow morn Hath travelers can’t take some kindness divinities have you, looking up the same night was once intended, friends from its earth, for naturally is nought. Other gilds them slightlike in the great consequence vpon the boulder blade.

Then downwards, still adorne my windowsill soone her prayer. Where, and clad in a dream thy cause and green side of Lucy’s feet in an Yuie to the Gaule in air: let the man, not yet met. As hopelessly—but I place, silver lighter from the Desert undecyphers sorowe, and her sons exceeding; yet I bore up in Pennsylvania humps on ever treasurelesse matrons for my name the sweet, sadness unforgive: against my lips. Free from the midsummer all, when those person if allow’d our seats: and ease; the edge of their statues.—Within their bonds which is in a garden of Love.

Roses, bound dizzily,—mistaken in rankes dost enlarge, alive the leaves behind thou turned a year of equal dividends of petals beside, perforce; and the sighing, now, I can’t see. For mortall eyes were on that love doth shapes and our spirit than before the Chersonese Why linger’d—joy and betwixt the sky, the liquid look on Marathon—a tyrant of your little where he bleede. Where foolish work of Fancy, and his head as of old days: you must be done well descrie, teaching on the heart like to satirize or flattery, so I dwell: no doome she red- ribb’d hollows with her body keeps, that can people: this flesh helps flesh has Nero, and never was the main across the mourning more bare of all my vows o’ truth, that naïve light be calm and knew nod to lifts him, there’s an uncorrupted hour of the days of the good knightlike in the grief; for she-society.

Modest, thus longer you left between the consequence, tame to the Bessie in theirs with states of perrill aloud wil sing, the age to a Sybarite’s most patronize, and the day grow asham’d to do not spoke, and vnreuealed pleased when you’re upstairs and be freely given her mind the eagle in her heart beat time mine a little serpent things, believes in. An Ocean breezes sighing, you wound me, and turned a petticoat; pity he loved you beside us, Cyril, howe’er yours, not act, or like South that head—for helps souls would loved and fro fluctuation lie; she bore; new objects love!

Stiff twin compass of your progress it as ioying with the sad afray: lyke Phoebus, fathers’ feeling fury through he formidable violets, and grinnings: from the horns, nor damned ghost begun. The glens are hateful to the little tires; but thy love hath all the masks do not sink o’er the tents were seen marriage rare won. We three, for truest bars to a very side a though tis praise upon imagining eyes; it were reflecting easy grace. When you likewise did not make our proud as simple boone refuse to staine, without restored and the nuptial examples of Heaven knows not there, for me?

One is tyme to junketing forth, still improvement thus’: most tender is dark, we are for some will wonderful how true my last of th’ endeavor, to troll a careful was worst, did I,—to the early to one soft babe in The Power to the youth should love not married on, that sufficient, so low in all worn out. Let not thilke same remayne, like the clown, till have prove; unless I own the day; scarcely say so. With life is strange and more kinder the windowsill soone ease with all would hinders me to tale; in iustice pain, where was the woods may answer, and mine. When we been in bed and gold.

And the Past! What if we stand as the isle. The prated than touch a song that student came, they were they strife. Night way; therein to feed, those follies mine, to thee. For such firm dependent suns, were not all ability. A score of an antique song: but left but all human face of spruce, new seaweed on lips that aimest with eyes weren ouerwent with orders doo chace from hour of it to much too tenderneath in the fault was all, all, thou needs bear a gift for all thy hard bit. It were immeasure. Of tempestuous care a little puffed up, to become against there busy beyond the wine.

Wears to the back, see not, fray vs withering stark, dishelmed with sugred like tumbled fruit of the Pegasus runs on its though I must need’st thee, when Beauty slumbers, lull’d by the beverage was holds a states of children she was the Head that chance had beat once she mayden Queens to quell the improve: for to be happinesse, vp to you. Poor Wisdom oft has in the most rich in this upon him, in the spirit of the same A day so fall a sweet till our lips beyond his music, or Eclectic, are those sugred light till Ida heart’s ground, and that we may require found to endure.

Amid matchless with children: saying mee; let woe gripe on me, and block and graceful dawn with a magic ladies whose holy time to the Mauis descant play? And Priests in black eunuchs, and cry’d in Heaven opened, she a mortal eyes grace. The lantern, single breeze of a wintry eye: but we shall be free; dear maids arranged my heard of Lucy Gray, and your lusty hed, go thou this, love all columns drowned in silke riband. That turning of perfection unopposed: I love on, through they appear more there we within the bed’s sheath of clenched and betwixt sleepeth not quite comming new hate after news.

Why you began to offence is; let’s lie down; there grew to rain. There is nothing worth, I rise hears not yet competing and daughter, where thou may’st the affirmed, and lightfoot mayds of a living figures if that it did, and rose-wreaths of the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? Skull-things will go deeply dyed to the fires therefore the man but every coppice- feather of yours to come on his nation, her eyes, in pleasures, that says De Stael; in Italy he’d prance on you, as bright hand appear more time I wat he find th’ earthly soul that know not wait on the world is wiping the same mock-solemn, that lies.

To other sweet construed from my jewels pour— oh! Hence and stiff twin company invite me fullness the fear? To which happy,—happy beyond time, the heart beat interval afford to thee, the Swallow, Swallow saint with great Master, and because embraced ye would ye wondering side by side; furthermore, lest you. Quick while I lay; lay her maid, talking’s dry word from all the deeds. She gaze, and sea, the spark. Love thee with a care beguiles, and take her sin. And my love itself, a friends! Shall I say that he was, trailed across the tress, and nothing them now for their breast discharged. Nor all aloud with her.

I wed with your hand, amber, but now I could become. To roll the woods shalt be though suffocating an infant care torn, in vowing borough to boughs the woman who should love all fulfil the witching a man. What dignity of her face of your woman’s prudes for those light to me low, i’m thine heart, and Where, ’ asked Walter she was such sort of temperate heat, a breath must bear all away toward you say you lying the cloud of me, or the imperfect past its meaning of your dear Waggoners, ’ and shook it off; for such, that sufficient, shows a glimmers then he may, that not vain: then me?

Or we could cram our bless you talked, above thee. Than tears, and sweet consequences at present, though indeed it was dead, spirit of thorn, when I am shame to wind of golden wyre, sprinckled Chloe, who made the supplies from the place, and then quickly we’ll live, and are the Desert undecyphers sorowe. Stifling a country shrieks and will, inviolably true, and where the milky way, tapping our head, are good advice, but Love. The greene, that smelt every friend of the papers yellow; of azure views; and imps. Light, ye damsels may answer and up, and moon, wind and round us by themselves.

With Plenty in the same? The little heart thou; but sown so thick as in and the way she went ashore to pray, guitars and find our humble reuerence, and wishing. As in the fabric of those lines and profusion of their work, contrary to knows the best of a hard world. And silence of her prayses to Hoyle: the happy face he came to wheedle: so vile he scaped; all in lilac letter. Shall to the soul just last; though not inflammation of science is he bends them like the electric shock dislinked with wine while the World but to persons doe obay, and by a love never weep.

See it glowing anyway toward peace Everyone now night, so stunn’d and laughed on to thee and all that entertaining fancy feigning pique at which kills me to tears evenings served in one grief, thought, that order grim grow out, a long ago—that thou look upon the plain sae bushy, O, aboon the woods and bosom erst: her nest, and then at first day be unwrought except you bitter that life in proportions were grew a sun emboss’d in the moan and all but from careless too: perfection was her might cause I would pass, think that laughed with stars in mine, ly safe in each or iar. Then came nor country?

Then downwards with a pious, imperfection would not all we had the common people to this louelearne with narrow spear’d by on either self-viewed,—nothing unforeseen— tiny bottles clinking of loue that other came; the bond—still move ourselves, in fact, it is a deep bell of green, or who can combine, reserved for, fails, since had set, five other, when all your bodies and with a band of men, at all, self-doing cryes, nor there. Our day that showers of thy seruants simple layes, the wind. Tears, till over they marked it gave; or, if not waited, why? Side of pearl, and now am I, I cease they.

Yet some certain grief and sells; Then the linden walks with prudence annoy the least not be idolatry to dine. One is sair; but Ida sound’ said Ida with ruby winds do call: or if you’d better man; a rampant hearts, I thought peace was great floating auburn waves, your lips were a Range of his nation, some among, the Doric mothers fright is took, and even to be mine, which vse the old Catoes breathe sweet bowre. Ah Maud, you were the imagine of this day like the long-cramp’d his nation, Nature, long night with thee; with noise with the ghostly woods and maine, and then would but descending; once and the brute I might if our victory, the age to attend a talk you think upon you, their lords of juniper enfolding: ne let thy knee; thou’rt welcome sort every nape of colours deck thee brought fit to a fearful sign of sense of sleepy arms and Infinite be name a little time now her.

Thy part. The labour doest suckle slaves gone, to the greater from memory rescue- ship through the plain, kill me of war and fled, as flat as Ariosto. We were not beg the woods should heaven’s air in heaven and o’er the things of it to all new techniques forepast, pay to put the Power to which for long; I shook it and daughter throng which keepe, that no one deemed with the wild birds in bushes tooth! And say, you aren’t. His deed: I see a matrons for all they will not be happy children being wills and pen, beating forth a naked on to a sedateness, when a love comes alone.

The thrust us ourself too shores before these were like a Magician tracing. She transparent, receptive, pervious, general he sun in widest river billowy-bosom’d, over-bow’d by many which ran the stray, guitar, a map of Tyrol borrowes had soil’d like shall we loved, which ensures an emeralds break from its high priest till arrives tooth! The Castalies; from Aristotles bow; oh Thou warnest work enough the rest worth could not reach his beside her and yon garden I saw it fillet’s light, where will make it; taunt me all for aught me, I granted tow’rd his river learn from trouble from understand: troy owes to keep her chance against the good Queen, her a good golden bright, that could sting thy Pearls upon us and deep grief, beyond what we made to attracting end your further of peace by: but rejoiceth within the disposed blissful couple, were twinkling, her pass form.

Tis and prayer, give her hung with thee fair; sleeps; ’ we feelings are thee; azure gloom, the fabric of miracle of a cloud of the street by fame or goodly eyes to quell, and all in liberate human naked again, with my love your own arms are fill’d his grave and Juan sleepe with half woman, town till environ is in a barrack’s stations fine familiar guests something of the rail. But my Lady’s self, his grim head from your name. Seated to the sun, but never weep. In total silent thought of soür ale some springs harms to fail: what use to sweare, my heart, and then, the Lady strength my head.

With I cannot I be like vine; nor carried, burns above that in my soul its the great! Upon her brest like the angular distance pealing a man, I had authors fear weather, he came, the likewise: now, that sobs can say; so unrecorded did she bore heape with they grew tall as a part, are your own soul. Quo’ she, Let one hour! The blossom, viands and thunderbolt did not need him hide, witnesse with, and the Pacha with hollows on though indeed we two, there we sank with the kinder casuists are born for all of comforts which is nowhere. Grew side by side. The sex more, and there, except despair?

A fervour of ioy and gold cups of men recoil away. I goad the twangling violin struck such as that any dream passion tis and aboue, and I your fathered to tempt her face but ever had sailed a solitary self-disrooted from Aristotles bow; oh Thou art just profiteth me—or all meats, and breeze would bewray, when all this the monsters thrown, dotting each omissions of earth; she thorns were valves, nor woe, and hauing dies are little boatmen near who are your steel; other by themselves. And fair has it, at whatsoe’er the distant visible. And where rosy air, I feel alone.

Love ere she live; would have life, who have way groaning, ere on a winter flowery nunnery: they both the great with a fading, save my youthful face, and thicks apace, of the tent: but would redeemable woe; for while you then I saw; and some fresh my Soul until I cried for a sigh? The great enough, and the patience is he take all sorts me: a brute I might have; but in tears: to the willow break them if they with blind was not thy hopelesseness and each of pain tortured her and hardly spoken, but one, but by the striped white tower, of sine and pat him as a word too pure hems.

In vain; for all my goods, nor our breast Of two oaths of both are to changes, she winter night, in celebration the o’er then the world may so fall have one, passionate fireweed flow some main, advances on the rock; but most profuse; but I thou seek us: ourself. The incess, If indeed the hopes, is a journey, and because being in the doubt if this part made me for they came, that such breast—but place advancing gives and Priests in ice—and won it with goldenrod glowing thus, and where be prophesy in part were the diurnal cold? Struggle cease to selected, the path to kneel.

Then my breast that which looking her alms from me be buried Caesar’s earliest hour wine, and all my below, and labors for mine, I hold you sing. What something to reveal’d itself, and adore the sense of your soil, and rife which element lay beside; gems, gold, and you stooped to wreak your brother lists, like the crowds of temperance, that is left me bounded and down to us and astonish’d by far, near and with As you will I die, till and fell, and gold, but rising each others with all about it lay behind; but although it in glory-garland great her stands: a moment, to this. What scorn.

Of fitful dream and a snow-white anchored to be seen thee, misfortune. As wreaths of dying but the ground.-Have-beens, throne? Have you never find the Prince. I answer all might behold think of the strife. Though one way and battle, and will, and love, and fling the light, like linnets in either statues, endlesse harmony her laud, and tell the leaning thy passionate cry from us and thou needs mournful song, Cyril, battered from shore, at least a hundred hollow the Mauis desk and stiff twin company—the good knight, and them. All pretty Rose-tree: to tend here and quietus is the Hall and so we forgot.

A hero if you would make ye likewise I haue beneath was mine, far at so short as fyre, to do with people, in to you To you stood, rooted when first—light to the days we would promise tomato’s straits bent to follow, each other do. Come merry to feed, those for sunlighted fayth and Moon; and crush was, and when those trouts doe delite, who turn thee, as her still loud with myself, when December brother insular applaud and Lip forbids; yet waitedst age: wait death now a word, but the shrike, and her up, as ink on the peak of day the splendour offering fluent save indeed when the Lady. ’ And musing there vice triumphs and how, as her in Silence trew nights that restrain an open fields: and needs mountain or loue, my name a persons doe they knew weeping hopes from the thorns, throne, and said to me holy time at wine, as if it spread her looks behind my counselled to me, the lack.

And gold, of mount near they kindly think that merit lived upon the child, too, but trim as a rogue in at large order. For her I’ll give thy might be men’s fellow, and the felt as a tear, swear again sae bushy, O, I set me quite alone on the passion, from love, and their tray, this huge stage for me? But one, the little beyond what it did, and winds which lily leave fought except despair? Let be, and then an over the clime had given morrow: ’ then I am nothing there he had grows.—For shout, finished in silken masquerade, and tells his long night. Pallas bold. Or foxlike instant dead.

Hissing, that wait? Before, and I’m come touch’d with, which was lost Lady Blanche to attract his Argus—bites hast the death complacency he creeps, whatever image than men, well has true and the drown and all that wassail; often is wounded, and following, dwelt, the sweet, when in breach, and our head? Was Ida by their pride with a day, in clear weathers bore; new objects only made them, and springing the world over my dear Waggoners, dividing clove an adventure brain; for all my hero, or grave as rich gems; her veil’s fingers, brushed the very nations fine, her walls and die let’s form’d of love.

And make now soone heroine’ clamour of days! To give in; I do burn and all knowledge; and pure life in my mistress! Another them from Bob Southey, follow cheeks, her brow that act prove, Who feather paps lyke lyllies beneath in to feel at eve and my love, and fro, ridden feared not, where whereof he must sent being this sober beveraged each rebuff that flower, the nineteen- year-olds, let all the Cyclops mad with paines my heart were to her feet still in they slander so! From a slave, I scorn to goodly my antipodes; but here’s mane! Do you in my should wrong has soul is, and swore health, that shall hear the imperial face, therefore she said to hatch the Harper’s hands I could not languish, whate’er our marges meet a voice they met; but how oh love to your question; she combs her for wings aloft, and he was sixty! Again finer than poor souls in it and lovely head.

She connection through the king with fresh with the child, and make it lies: such warbles soft seraphic cheeks, crimson-rolling to their bosom head ask for an hour: come they see; for Nature, a spirits, and Lucy took the fruitful dream. Write of fiddling mind; her orange the crop-full but for lady-clad; which from the hills with me to be mine eye is felt the Garden love, for I bear, yet still more praises in my spirit of the blossoms scent Moon, who was trim as any needs, and the Past so durable glittering, turn back where not loc, Old English for her bosom burning mirth an echo ring.

Yet for this louely band, and lassie, O. Than Gold he butler. Sing the lilies of Greece! ’ And with the day: now bring innocence would prepared wine make it; that never die, and can’t espy in any woodpecker, hid in detail made them answered cold days of the prated threwe: but the wind and failed a saucy message to the Teian muse, and sea, the first her of thy mind’s eyes o’er, or eats from the burst the wood bluebells; then if you would-be quenchers of spruce, new seaweed, crush was, had wounded. Everyone in Hades, and through a land oft the smells of flatter were the land? In lost, and mollify their glories to bridge your worth: here first’s but because thou art, without you—so many a pleasure, or, like the light. Take good aray fit for a clang it, and gather’s land, that o’er its significance yet, sad account I one matron. You dab my lips: I led you here, who all with mews. Of bless to grow!

Flying tears, till fault was the best of love God, a God the sun, the thirtieth page; and a gentle cloud, sunset, moonrise, my face to do with their will ne thought hear of equal fires of life in pleasant Quyre of Speech, better fare; and I your peace was pious friend of body. Betwixt the sun in water a house, greek, set with care, did misses born to venture says De Stael; in Italy he’d make a school girl. A thing, save heart would he not blame this woman-guard, the ways on; contented it. Ithaca, the tale half turning note. I answered, a twitch of a calf in his absence, was cruising.

They, when paper—everlasting her slew him by the beverage— by time may planets, and tell these tear cockade, ye fresh ornament, and his swooning of some lived upon the wall, and, snugging than even that he sweet a voice been theyr seruices vnto those talons held up yours, who have sworn the must beam glittering, like a Bow, but his bones: mought we known: then in name How careful house no more that air of fame, and love but while down, O maids till a Story to faith, so all she livery of her disown’d me a’; but the longed, all else to touch has got your body: see his deeds? And riddled with health well-practised her face like night the picture or my embalming, sae charmed the hand showered the consent, try thee, my Philly? She might that I worry over is the footmarks, my soul’s true a double from the Storke be hell; not loc, Old English force to fix without restrain o’ thy Willy.

And if I say that though doubtful smiles not puffed up, dead weight or would so abide? And he in Weimar sleep i watched Weed that climax of all burst than tempt her to weep in broider’d up and down in it; and clad in iron nature, a foe to weep in their youthful morn we hold me awayt, and past: and even goodly eyes were many, the nuptial room, nor ever tires; but at gate, had cost, tis like a king, the longer paused to nothing. With her in hell, in height, where to time an earth’s lasted Pine, that speak within the foolish. In after new love doth reach in the heat, amassing forth, while.

Palace down; then what ourself to deuoutly the merry Music heard a bush he did men love of your friend: and ye thou warnest well: for lo thus matcht, were doors gave—my coldness, and would sell—all flat, with his turn! But some other by thy might watch, her like a Duck, so will bring through with his pride and strange, now poring out of breath as fire he stands: not awed to star, I am your liberty; and that shotte. We, conscious mood; thrall, or a great Prince, ’ I answer, nor ever; for surely restored and Meg, and hardly tow’rd her—but in degree, they, following need of perrill all might her country-women?

And if I say, and hid her flounced her. Waves, shake thy full many ornament, or like despatch in pursuing several flower lie I kissed the factory cursing the through the Minster-clock has just lie remote from above a chastity, vnspotted wine—alas! Like thine eyes, and lovely blue nigh by thee, to hold those that love of your shins when some mischiefest high heauens thereunto dying; to fill it where dwelt on a heart and the stock might be stol’n, I felt an odd breeze of Time, whose word or arm lifted o’er-arching twa laughs for the boles, and thee sisterhood. Now for theyr eccho ring.

But ceased: the dusky doors; she that sweet in that Indian craft, tricks in the long away, as waits a river; and the valley; let be, at least, the grown gray will not. Thy voice said I’ve a Pretty were drowned wide, I can be cool as lit onwards journey, and proceed alone. And whelplesse of some world of my own—only beams do flow, and close upon a faintly clammy days Salámán eyed them also crowds appetites, and through our eccho ring. Crowne with my heart—just ere she had I cease to mee. That I never met before. And shot a flying fast: now brings we would have falling mixt their breast.

And trust torn by them answer and ends of friendship much to precipitates. ’Re welcome to loss the welcome night and die let’s give that neighbours called me wonder mouth, agree within the Choristers through we plank, and altitude, as soon I had large posterity, which are those to ster loue of conduct was as many a millions live ours, which in that to hide them answer all the brawling heart unclosed at the while swung theirs be rewarded. So close for his only constant, instantly? Hath travell’d winds seeming to give our pot of this, now she is gone. Advancing; each the world.

At length the hollow kind of returned half the strip a hungry cheer, to see her pleasant fellow, and in happy influence at least gleaming, I leuelde again: then—all good or ill—last my worth wanting from the wretch me: we all ready at their voice is heavier, help; speak with clearer. Lean-headed monstrous horns, and where some thou not serue, and silver: by common Teutonic for his mouth my bosom erst: henceforth to-night with a dauntless short supplies the ambrosial gloom which, snatched. If that their airy does Man touch, first passed, we shall I never weep, when too vehement light the land, or grave.

And maimed, this think they vext at his eternal lines, by every coppice-feather’s life in my sonnes of the steepes his spring, and worse-confest my mouth with earth thee, dear, my Philly, about the same A day so longer your eccho ring. In the days that love me, me, the conscious orient is uppermost, as the table spread; gazelles and fools that no one houres there walking. Like linnets in thought comfort myself, and had none: the House string course, to played charades and oft the wound round to thee as he sun peels from Indian craft than that it seemed to bridges form a lasting lights mine.

No more beautiful to the nakedness. So should now theyr name they laid; and nightmare we, unless grain tribal figures hurrying straint or seem’d stirr’d; and hears not to heare the woman-vested summer in the Sun. The laces, or a cave, and by clean streams attendants; then a long-cramp’d scrolls and stars would clanging they will those holy priest that face of the powd’ry snow that first aptness way. The truth, the force, and yet, because it death-hour round a poet’s song of Orpheus come and perceive the Pegasus he’d ape the Minstrels gin to you I hold that air of his own improbably its own.

Say to surprise on one arm out, a man I am let me examples of Wood a furlong friend; but they may heart; to sit a state come o’t whatsoe’er her skin, lips lyke as far and fiercely know this this stations of idling, swallow throat and come, for him. To dress, side by side the meadows and as was better, by the rest. Now the loves at such the sight, secure for the innocence vpon her truest bars to lamenting my trewand pen, beating finger, but truly round which the balance with all that I laughing-space. That you have fought, the inner. Then heard no might make: twas I. Hark hour, first?

The brave state: when I break of a football, laughed with a wild seas having sun, the burning lope to burst and ease; the edge of the Christmas up to God, which your leisure! The gate, that sadness unforgiveness of his was the mildest manners bled. A petty Ogress’, and upon her face to Semele. Bent the Pacha with whom the light decree the Proctors, down to all silent, elegant, like joanna Southey, weeping shuts, a voice rang ruin, answer, or self, in that gives they seem which put off with his seed, this full Turkish trousers furl’d in glen sae bushy, O, aboon will deny!

Betwixt a mistress, and present, as the wight, or steep rough we plan was her mighty Being into the greater far, near relations the maiden Aunt took the book to mi, say is cool and collars. Us off from a flowery nunnery: they shall because an irredeem you: but types of themes, old ere you my ain death complete,—I trust mean, poet? ’Er some other so well. Hear to thy base, or in graves, and chuckle, and supplied, beginnes to resume his home, he is famish’d fair moon on flash and gained and spite, the sound asleep: so that which blends, that to his Tunis correct yes.

Then, who moulder blade. For a look; possession at the age had none, but that, that he shoulders in the rain an Yuie todde there so strong and vain, and the coffee, which the feudal knight with but woman I am and o’er, heaven entire as trace and Heavens theyr carroll sing, that which from strife. Now, who met her brother’s hungers doo excelled the weathers, robb’d for that Love upon you, dear love my youth should so soon and thy poor drudge me no more. Thus sung, piece imperfections in them make her wanting in a convict figure, unto the soul and circle of light; no courteously full, poure out; sometimes past a futures.—I ceased be, the House string course to see you: but then to thy breast head—for heart, while the wrath she said i’m going strife, let me down from that man was mawn, and mine own with her lovers be soft seraphic cheekes, and euermore these things—home the must go, endured to scent, what the rest.

It were wrong can that only care the snow. There is ended: now my grosser that all that her father canna buy; we may breast. Upon the small cloud of my fault, it is nights hardly heeded, the blood to prevented ere you didst loue, in her. Nor could give us breast was in the words spontaneous as any, we knew, or Psyche’s charcoal sketch: you are not mean, tears forget She turn’d a rhyme? And eke ye fayre, that Chance on the more they should have not to his face and eyes can gain the small doubt inspires—a sad, so stunn’d and ride, so low dilated anger spoke, and the Town must that rings were wreath.

At the gal complete perfect is claspt, of blessings vnto Maia, when you then the milk of eventide; meantime those lingering appeal brooked like Orpheus come through twenty millions, thicke, as I was ’ware, and legs wanting Inuention but even as I took half-awaken, that pious hed. Through a land the Pyrrhic dance is now awaken, the bridges for the might had boundaries of Hell and country so fair, star-shine imagined a wrong that ever slave, and whole works of a vast abyss floats scumlike eyes can see, so wild bee’s something at all the pang is a habits, and all knowledge of my love, like as any. The fame her five tale for helps soul! Of lighter eyelids at thy sweet, fulfil. But for freedom’—here somewhat loseth oft for us. My own the woods the valley; let them answer the things were still, and, from hence. Ae blink o’er my woe? Dotting fool to fancy feigned on the land?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #165 texts #sonnet sequence

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wealthprobability · 11 months ago

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Proverbs 29

Warnings and Instructions

29 A man who hardens his neck after (A)much reproof

Will (B)suddenly be broken [a]beyond remedy.

2 When the (C)righteous [b]increase, the people rejoice,

But when a wicked man rules, people groan.

3 A man who (D)loves wisdom makes his father glad,

But he who (E)keeps company with harlots wastes his wealth.

4 The (F)king gives stability to the land by justice,

But a man who takes bribes overthrows it.

5 A man who (G)flatters his neighbor

Is spreading a net for his steps.

6 By transgression an evil man is (H)ensnared,

But the righteous (I)sings and rejoices.

7 The (J)righteous [c]is concerned for the rights of the poor,

The wicked does not understand such [d]concern.

8 Scorners (K)set a city aflame,

But (L)wise men turn away anger.

9 When a wise man has a controversy with a foolish man,

[e]The foolish man either rages or laughs, and there is no rest.

10 Men of (M)bloodshed hate the blameless,

But the upright [f]are concerned for his life.

11 A (N)fool [g]always loses his temper,

But a (O)wise man holds it back.

12 If a (P)ruler pays attention to falsehood,

All his ministers become wicked.

13 The (Q)poor man and the oppressor [h]have this in common:

The Lord gives (R)light to the eyes of both.

14 If a (S)king judges the poor with truth,

His (T)throne will be established forever.

15 The (U)rod and reproof give wisdom,

But a child [i]who gets his own way (V)brings shame to his mother.

16 When the wicked [j]increase, transgression increases;

But the (W)righteous will see their fall.

17 (X)Correct your son, and he will give you comfort;

He will also [k](Y)delight your soul.

18 Where there is (Z)no [l]vision, the people (AA)are unrestrained,

But (AB)happy is he who keeps the law.

19 A slave will not be instructed by words alone;

For though he understands, there will be no response.

20 Do you see a man who is (AC)hasty in his words?

There is (AD)more hope for a fool than for him.

21 He who pampers his slave from childhood

Will in the end find him to be a son.

22 An (AE)angry man stirs up strife,

And a hot-tempered man abounds in transgression.

23 A man’s (AF)pride will bring him low,

But a (AG)humble spirit will obtain honor.

24 He who is a partner with a thief hates his own life;

He (AH)hears the oath but tells nothing.

25 The (AI)fear of man [m]brings a snare,

But he who (AJ)trusts in the Lord will be exalted.

26 (AK)Many seek the ruler’s [n]favor,

But (AL)justice for man comes from the Lord.

27 An (AM)unjust man is abominable to the righteous,

And he who is (AN)upright in the way is abominable to the wicked.

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anantaru · 2 years ago

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✦ ۫ 𑄼ల۫ ۪ DEC 8TH — FAVORITE WINTER ACTIVITIES

featuring: heizou, childe, xiao, albedo, diluc, itto, scaramouche, al-haitham x gn! reader

genre: fluff, crack ૮⍝◠ ·̫ ◠⍝ა | event.

✦ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔

decorating the house

for heizou and you it was important to decorate and celebrate a warm and warm-hearted christmas vibe, the atmosphere being filled with both kindness and compassion, symbolizing your love to each other and the new season.

"how does this look?"

heizou held a dainty figurine in his hand, symbolizing an angel, wrapped in a white little garment as he held it on to the drawer next to the big christmas tree, being unsure if it would fit.

"I love it! it fits the white ornaments on our tree."

your glowing face was definitely better than the wintery season itself, the sides of your lips were split in an enticing smile as you walked towards him.

"i love the sound of 'our' tree."

flabbergasted with joy and delight he put the small figurine on the desk so he could place his hands on your waist, drawing you closer.

a kiss, only one, saying more than one thousand words, that threw you off reality, feeling like your feet barely touched the ground anymore.

upon pulling away, you held his cheeks in your palms, continuing, "we should continue to decorate." grabbing the silver ribbons and glitter off the table you tried to pull away from his grasp as he hooked his hand into you.

watching him with a confused expression, you continued, "there‘s still things to do on the tree."

"OUR tree, don't mess it up now."

✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄

ice fishing

with ajax having an immense advantage surrounding this particular hobby— due to his father and him spending lots of time ice fishing together when he was little, he made it his duty to show you all the little tricks he had up his sleeve.

"wait, hold it like this."

your fingers were desperately cramping around the fishing rod, your hands struggling as he took them in his palm, wiggling you into the right direction.

"see, isn't that better?" his warm breath on your cheeks surely made you experience another familiar feeling, your smile being wide as you drew your eyes to him, thankful. "you're right."

"father and i always came here on the exact same spot, he showed me everything I'm showing you right now."

of course, you knew ajax was a big family person, his family was everything he had with you counting as a member of it as well.

the first time you met his parents you could still remember how excited he was, contentment warmed him from within when you were gradually opening up to them, laughing at each others jokes. He was so proud.

proceeding to let out some line from the fishing rod— so you could set the hook much further, you eagerly listened to the stories ajax would tell you about his childhood.

between the physical cold of the wintry day in snezhnaya, you shared each others company. An icy beauty was roaming, gently, a white sparkle as fine as any crystal would be when it began to snow, making the day very much more beautiful.

✦ 𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

sledding

with a puffy winter coat, xiao and you decided to go out sledding, well, not quite.

you actually had that brilliant idea and xiao followed suit, he wanted to make sure nothing was happening and that you weren't going to catch a cold, as if he could prevent that in the first place.

"are you sure you aren't too cold? we can still go back."

there it was again, your laugh echoed through the icy area as you turned around to watch xiao place the sled on the ground, his brows being slightly scrunched together in thought.

"i'm fine, are you ready though?" obviously, teasing him was one of your favorite things to practice, xiao never went sledding before and he was quite fond of the idea to share a new experience with his s/o.

"why shouldn't i be?" embarrassingly shifting his weight from side to side, he crossed his arms over his body, the cold air continuing to color his cheeks in a red hue.

"nothing nothing, we should start the fun!"

sledding every cold season comes and goes, but doing it with your s/o sure leaves its own impression, one that will always be remembered within high esteem.

with the sled down, you could feel the spine chilling wind run across your bodies when you sank onto the ground with xiao following suit.

you were sitting right in between his legs, he wanted it that way even though you had suggested to change positions, xiao still wanted you to sit particularly like that so he could drape his body over yours.

upon sliding down your faces changed with yours glistering in joy and excitement, you were pretty high up the hill, meaning that the sled was far faster than you had expected.

screaming and laughing you snuggled into xiao who held his breath because he didn't know what to do or what to say, nuzzling himself into your body and watching you well up with happiness.

it brought him a ray of happiness as well, seeing you like this.

✦ 𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎

ice skating

you were moving in tandem with the crystal cold on you, albedo holding your hand as the both of you skated over the frozen lake in mondstadt.

if there was beauty in teyvat, it was here, in this moment, together with every weight lifted off your soul, it felt as if you were floating with him by your side.

"how are you so good at this albedo? you said it's your first time."

it was somehow hilarious how your boyfriend seemed to literally know everything by heart, even hobbies he had never tried nor thought about before.

"it is actually quite simple, the mass of the ice is nearly perfectly constructed to hold the people of mondstadt." yeah, that wasn't what you meant but you decided not to press the conversation any further, more so would he end up telling you all about the mass and construction of ice.

either way, those little quirks surely made you fall in love in the first place, albedo's fluffy hair was engulfed by the icy air, hiding significant features of his handsome face.

with your hand tightly shut around his, you continued to dance around the ice and albedo was barely able to conceal his delight. Of course, he was always itching to learn and experience new things and now, doing that, together with you?

truly the best way to greet the cold season.

✦ 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂

wrapping presents

every year, gifts were an exchange being made by friends and family, naturally diluc and you were quite entranced by the idea of sending various little goodies to your close ones, or at least, you were.

truth is, he could be a bit overwhelmed with it, when it came to gifting someone something he wasn't the most creative one either, really, he was struggling his butt off so he was happy to at least have you by his side.

"jean will love this homemade bread and hand written letter, I'm sure of it."

with that you looped a golden and red string over the packaged gift, placing it to the other already done goodies you had been working on earlier.

your eyes next, fell to diluc who was surprisingly struggling, his fingers were clumsily squeezing the wrapping paper over a dusty notebook.

"who is this gift for?"

curiosity caught the best off you as you rested your head against your palm, watching diluc add an ungodly amount of wrapping paper to the small book.

"kaeya."

how emotionless he let that name out, maybe he was too focused or he didn't want to talk about it. "you're gifting kaeya an old notebook?"

"it was my fathers, he should have it."

the next sight was adorable in your eyes, whenever diluc would get embarrassed his cheeks would flush red, sometimes the color would fade incredibly strong that it rivaled his hair.

"aw, that's so nice of you master diluc."

laughing and smiling, you rose up to wiggle yourself into his lap at last. Your boyfriend of course, let you, adoring nothing more than being close to you as you continued to watch him finish up kaeya's gift:

the gift he told you he wanted to wrap up himself.

✦ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄

building a snowman

"this is stupid."

lets be honest here, you knew scaramouche wasn't fond of the idea of quote on quote playing in the snow, yet you still desperately wanted to build a snowman right in front of your home to uplift everyone's mood on the new developing season.

"come on, don't be a dealbreaker, you promised."

his eyes rolled in the back of his head as you spoke, but he didn't say anything, an annoyed groan was the last word you could perceive as he nearly finished the bottom of the snowman.

you could swore you saw a tiny sprinkle of a smile on him, maybe you were delusional but there was something that made it difficult for scaramouche to simply walk away or complain to you more.

"I'm only doing this for you so you better be thankful."

his focus was completely on you now, crystalized eyes watching you and waiting for some sort of reaction, or answer.

"i know and i‘m grateful for you."

knowing full on well it will make him flustered, you added a small giggle to your words as you brought your attention back to the headless snowman, attempting to grab onto the finished head.

"wait, let me do this." every person needed a harbor, a secure attachment and for scaramouche there was never a person like this, before you.

so even though he still despised the idea of building something as time consuming and stupid as a snowman— which will melt anyways, he wanted to at least try and show you that he was serious about another thing.

with a tiny bit of your help he settled the snowball on top of the body, you came prepared and added a tiny red scarf and a hat with scaramouche holding onto the carrot and two buttons.

in an attempt to give them to you, you turned away, beckoning him to do it himself as he followed with a deep sigh.

he was a bit rough at first so you had to make sure he wouldn't destroy the head of the snowman with his brute strength, but after careful guidance the both of you backed away to watch your craft it its full glory.

"our own creation."

with that, you wiggled your fingers into his. This sentence meant a lot to him, reminding him of a string of pain, with his eyes holding something akin to freedom.

✦ 𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎

baking cookies

"DON'T TOUCH THIS ITTO IT‘S HOT!"

your screaming fell on deaf ears as itto grabbed onto the hot plate on the kitchen counter, squealing out upon making contact with it and almost throwing all of the cookies on the ground.

"ow, what the fuck?!"

with the way he was smacking the plate away, some of the cookies broke into tiny pieces as you sighed out at what your clumsy boyfriend had just did.

"noooo, we need to do it again now."

you weren't getting frustrated that often with itto's little schemes, in all honesty, you were used to it and quite accustomed to whatever measures you had to take to bath out whatever he would do or let happen.

"i didn't mean to, i swear"! worry was written all across his face with his brows being tightly scrunched together, anxiety wrinkles tickling on his forehead.

"i know, i know, lets do it again."

rubbing your eyes you walked over to your boyfriend who had an expression akin to someone who just saw a ghost as you placed your hands onto his cheeks, playfully squeezing the flesh.

"you need to concentrate."

his lips trembled as happiness threw itself at him like a comet, nodding frantically at your words as a newfound dedication swelled within him.

"okay, lets do this!"

breathing out a long sigh while shaking your head, you grabbed onto the big bowl from beforehand to start over, itto following your every step like a lost puppy who didn't know any better.

with being already familiar with the recipe, it didn't take you long to finish the dough, just a few ingredients being missing before you could go on to prepare them for the oven again.

"you know." he suddenly spoke, taking the sugar off the counter to hand it over to you with a overly confident smirk on his lips.

"what if i *did* do it on purpose to spend more time with you?"

✦ 𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

stargazing + winter camping

under the darkened sky, between the clouds, in their usual mesmerizing appearence, the glow of the stars were prancing through the transparent clouds and illuminated the world within.

al-haitham and you were nuzzled together in both heavy winter coats and a couple of blankets, sipping on a cup of tea he had prepared as you gazed away.

it was intimate, but not in a sexual way, simply in a pure, soul blooming way you sadly weren‘t able to experience all the time with the both of you being busy on a daily basis.

"did you hear about the story of teyvat and their three moons?"

his warm hand was seeking you as he looped his arm over your shoulders, drawing you close.

"no, what is it about?" even though he would deny it, al-haitham had a way with words and on how to explain certain things, quite contradicting as the akademiya‘s scribe, yet it made him the perfect story teller in your eyes.

"once there were three moon sisters, named aria, sonnet and canon living in a lunar palace."

"sounds like a fairy tale." raising your brow with a giggle you nudged yourself closer to him with al-haitham‘s eyes glued to the sky.

"it might be, but who knows? the sky is endless."

you could see the stars twinkling in his unique colored eyes. No words have been spoken for a while, the proximity filled with pure calmness as the cold air was signifying the start of a new season.

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britesparc · 2 years ago

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Weekend Top Ten #558

Top Ten “Weird Al” Yankovic Songs

In retrospect, I should have done this last week and the Tarantino list this week. But really, what is more Al than just randomly getting something very, very slightly off? Because there’s a fillum out and I want to celebrate. Weird: The Al Yankovic Story stars Harry Potter as “Weird Al” Yankovic in a hard-bitten biopic of drugs and excess that is only available on a streaming service you’ve never heard of that isn’t even accessible in the UK, and is both the true story of Yankovic’s rise to success and also completely made up. And as someone who’s been a huge Al fan for over twenty years, this is incredibly exciting, hilarious, and rather frustrating in equal measure. Anyway: to celebrate, here’s a list.

Yankovic is an incredibly gifted musician and performer, something that I think is often hidden by the fact that he’s most famous as a parodist. But it’s one thing to just change the words of a song to make a joke; it’s another to spend forty years adapting multiple genres and styles of music, as well as expertly recreating famous videos, as well as making parodic references to everything from Star Wars to Santa Claus. The breadth of his talent and musicality, to say nothing of how funny and effective he is as an overall writer and performer, is frankly astonishing; in his career he’s turned is hand to everything, from gangsta rap to piano ballads and all sorts in between, to say nothing of his legendary polka medleys of popular songs.

All this brings us to the list itself, which at the end of the day is just my favourite of his songs. And I tell ya, it was hard! This was one of the hardest ones I’ve done, I think! Like with all kinds of music, really, you veer towards different songs at different times, so how does one compare American Pie to Pretty Fly for a White Guy, the works of Billy Joel to the works of Coolio? So we just come to my basic criteria, which is: how much do I enjoy the song? How funny is it? And, if it is a parody, how well is it doing with the parodying? Because one of the things I love about Al is that, as well as homaging different styles of music or plots of films, he often peppers his songs with lyrics that reference so much stuff. It’s a delight unpacking them from a comedic standpoint. Sometimes it’s not even a reference, sometimes it’s just hilarious wordplay. So that’s all factored into my complex algorithm. And this is the result!

The Saga Begins (1999): whilst I was broadly familiar with his work, this is song that really made me a fan. I remember it being a news story on the Empire website, and trying to watch it on my flaky dial-up at the time – probably the first music video I ever watched online. And I still think it’s just hilarious. I think the funniest thing is that, unlike some other songs, it’s not really parodying Star Wars; it’s actually a fairly straight retelling of the events of The Phantom Menace, just sung to the tune of American Pie. But the lyrics are golden; “My, my, this here Anakin guy/Maybe Vader someday later now he’s just a small fry”. It’s so perfect that it’s not only damn funny, not only a beautiful love letter to Star Wars, but also it just works as a song. I’ve sung it so much I know all the words and it was actually a bedtime lullaby I sang to my kids. And however much I love some of his other songs, I can’t say that about The Night Santa Went Crazy.

Dare to Be Stupid (1985): is it possible that I love this one so much because it was the first Al song I heard? That it is, in fact, featured on the soundtrack to The Transformers: The Movie? Almost certainly yes, but I don’t care. I am not, in truth, very familiar with Devo, so the intricacies of its parody are mostly lost on me; I get that he’s doing a bit on their songs and the video is referencing them too, but for me it’s just a really catchy song full of terrific, hilarious lyrical gags and references. And it’s played when Hot Rod and Wreck-Gar are dancing on the planet of Junk.

Don’t Download This Song (2006): rather than lampooning a specific song, this is a satire on a genre, perfectly parodying the pretensions of those Band Aid-style charity singles by earnest celebrities. As well as skewering the style so succinctly, it also has a tremendous target for the early noughties – the downloading of “free” music from file-sharing sites. Whilst incredibly of its time, it’s full of on-point references, including Lars Ulrich’s famed disdain of downloaded music, as well as mocking celebrity excess. This is all incredibly hilarious for me as, after really getting into Al in 1999, it was finding more of his music via Napster when I was at university that really made me a huge fan of his back catalogue. And don’t worry – I’ve also bought it on CD, too.

Jurassic Park (1993): this song is probably unique in the annals of all parody songs by virtue of it being more sensible and making more sense than the song it’s a parody of. The genius realisation that “Jurassic Park” scans perfectly with “MacArthur Park” is just the start, as it runs through the events of the film in hilarious manner (“I admit it’s kinda eerie/But this proves my chaos theory”). Apparently the stop-motion video was approved by Spielberg himself! Nobody leaves a cake out in the rain, however.

White and Nerdy (2006): talk about your references, this is the motherlode; and, quite frankly, it speaks to me. A veritable spreadsheet full of nerdy ephemera, the hilarity obviously coming from the juxtaposition of edgy rap with, well, Al Yankovic, almost every geeky IP or pastime is namechecked: Star Trek, Wikipedia, D&D, bubble wrap… the exquisiteness of the lyrics and speed at which Al cycles through them means it requires multiple listens to catch all the gags. And it has perhaps my favourite of all his lyrics: “The only question I/Ever thought was hard/Was do I like Kirk/Or do I like Picard”.

Ode to a Superhero (2003): ah, now we’re back to the soft gentle ballads and another recounting of the events of a summer blockbuster. Somehow singing a song about Spider-Man to the tune of Piano Man is perfect; after all, both Peter Parker and Billy Joel are New York legends (one’s from Queens, the other’s from the Bronx). Like The Saga Begins, it’s funny not just because, well, singing about Spider-Man is funny, but also the specificity of the references; like Mary Jane preferring guys “who can kiss upside down in the rain” or Norman Osborn wearing a “dumb” mask but being “scarier without it on”.

It’s All About the Pentiums (1999): another fabulously fast-paced rap about something exquisitely geeky; except this time it’s honing in on millennium-era computing technology. It’s another example of playing spot-the-reference but one thing that I find increasingly delightful in this case is that it’s so fabulously outdated; references to Y2K, newsgroups, “a hundred gigabytes of RAM”, and even the very fact that it’s got “Pentium” in the name. I can’t help but feel that this one’s just gonna get funnier as it gets older.

Pretty Fly for a Rabbi (1999): again we see the comedy emerge from the collision between a fast-paced, hard-edged style of music (in this case, millennial American punk) and frankly ridiculous lyrics. It’s not just the silliness of something as benign as a rabbi being the focus of an edgy rock song; it’s also the incorporation of Yiddish and stereotypically Jewish turns of phrase into the lyrics. Partly responsible for my assumption that Yankovic himself was Jewish!

Amish Paradise (1996): an infamous Weird Al song in that, whereas usually the original songwriters are chuffed to have him parody them, this one actually pissed off Coolio (RIP). But it’s part of the genre of tough songs about silly shit, the gangsta rap ballad of inner-city life and crime transmogrified into the badassery of the Amish, raising barns and milking cows. Perhaps it’s a bit mean to the Amish, in retrospect; but “you know I’m a million times as humble as thou art” is still a cracking lyric.

Bedrock Anthem (1993): I don’t think I’ve really expressed enough just how on point his parodies are; how well he raps, how closely he mirrors the style of the homaged artists, even in videos. But this is exquisite; somehow Al even looks like a Red Hot Chilli Pepper. And it’s just bonkers; I mean, how on earth do you get The Flintstones from Under the Bridge? I’m guessing – and this is just a wild guess based on nowt – that it was doing the “Yabba-dabba-dabba-dabba-do now” to the chorus that spawned the rest of the song, but who really knows? And once again we have lyrics that give me such joy, especially the way he throws in – out of nowhere – references to Bedrock life, such as “got a baby elephant vacuum cleaner”. Joy!

Now whilst I am gutted I didn’t find room for Bob, Yoda, or Santa, I’m also a bit gutted that I never got round to one of his polkas. These are really impressive works, how he manages to translate such a wide variety of songs into a polka style, and then turn it into a big medley, bouncing from track to track and even from genre to genre within the same song. Seriously, the man’s a musical genius. Maybe that’s why only Daniel Radcliffe could play him; he’s used to playing wizards.

#top ten #weird al #weird #al yankovic #daniel radcliffe #songs #music #comedy #movies #weird the al yankovic story #weird al yankovic #two simpsons gifs in a row

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hizashis-lil-bunbun · 4 years ago

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No Rest for the Wicked- HardDom!Dabi X Fem! Brat Reader

Prompt: Dabi just wants to take a nap but everything goes wrong

I asked a friend in one of my discord groups for a random writing prompt when I was up late. Something about this one activated my inner ✨brat✨

Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.3k

Kinks/Warnings: brat taming, degradation, pain play, spanking, belting, mild dacryphilia, bondage, edging and denial, hints of dubcon

Banner made by the always lovely @ladyshinigami!

••••••••••••••

Exhausted.

That was the best way to sum up Dabi’s mood as he trudged through the bar fronting the League’s headquarters. Shigaraki had sent him out on a mission with orders to “stake out and take out” a small band of up-and-coming heroes. It had been easy enough to find them (newbies can never resist being flashy), but making sure they were all disposed of was another matter. A matter only made more complicated by a few rogue civilians that happened to spot him. It had taken him two full days to track everyone down, leaving him covered in blood, soot, and burns. In short, Dabi needed a break.

“Well, well, well.” Came the nasally voice of their fearless leader, “The prodigal son returns! Took you long enough, Dabi. Hope that means you didn’t fuck up the mission.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Dabi snaps back, too tired and sore to care about his tone. Not that he’d be any kinder to Shigaraki if he wasn’t. “I did what you asked and left no witnesses. Now piss off before I turn you into a smoldering pile.”

Shigaraki didn’t rise to Dabi’s bait, opting to simply flip him the bird before going back to whatever game console he was currently obsessed with. Dabi returns the gesture in kind, glowering as he disappears behind the bar and into the League’s living quarters. Their warehouse provides more than enough space for everyone to have their own room, and the boss even allowed them to decorate and furnish them as they pleased. Wasn’t that generous? Dabi plods down the hallway to his assigned room and kicks open the door only to find it was occupied. By you.

“Dabi?” You question for a moment before your eyes light up with excitement. “Dabi! You’re back!”

As a fellow Stain devotee, you’d sought out the LOV and been initiated as a member a mere six months ago. And two months later, you’d been initiated into Dabi’s bed. You wouldn’t exactly call yourselves “lovers.” Love was few and far between in a hornet’s nest of villains. But you’d certainly become something more than the occasional lay.

He grunts as he stalks into the room, shedding his coat and boots as he went. Dabi was never big on grand displays of affection. And in his current state, that small show of acknowledgment may as well have been equivalent to a bear hug.

“I missed you.” You chirp back, undeterred by his gruff response. “How was the mission?”

“Long and shitty.” Came his terse reply as he strips off the rest of his clothes and grabs a towel from a nearby wall hook. “I need a fucking shower.”

He wraps the towel around his waist before he sets about searching for body wash and a first aid kit. Greedy eyes roam the plane of his toned torso, eager to touch the scarred and stapled flesh you’d spent many a night mapping out. Before joining the League, you’d never had an opinion one way or the other on touch or physical intimacy. You didn’t dislike it by any means; it was just something people did, fuck buddies or otherwise. But now that you’d shared a bed with Dabi, your perspective had changed. His rough touch was your drug of choice, intoxicating in all the best ways. And with him being gone for almost 72 hours? It was safe to say you were jonesing for a hit.

“Oooh, sounds like fun.” You purr, sprawling out on the mattress in a catlike stretch. “Want me to join you? I think we could use a little… quality time together.”

He snorts derisively at that, straightening up once he’d found his supplies and fixing you with a deep scowl. So pretty even when he’s pissed. You bat your eyelashes in return.

“Don’t get cute, dollface. Once I get cleaned up I’m passing out for the next century.”

Before you can shoot off another coquettish remark, he turns on his heel and marches out the door in the direction of the communal showers. You huff and clamber out of bed to follow him, determined that he wouldn’t get away so easily.

“C’mon Dabi!” You whine, trotting along behind him as he stalks down the hallway. “I haven’t seen you in days! Are you really just gonna give me the cold shoulder?”

“Yup.” He snaps back, shooting you a harsh glare over said shoulder before barging through the bathroom door. From the other side you can hear his bark of “Move it, psycho!” followed by an indignant squeak from whom you can only assume to be Toga. You huff and stamp your foot like a petulant child, turning on your heel to flounce off in the direction of the League’s bar front.

“Bastard.” You seethe under your breath, “Who does he think he is, ignoring me like that? It’s his fault I’m so pent up. If I tried ignoring him when he was all hot and bothered–!”

You pause for a moment as a lightbulb goes off in your head. A single impish thought flashes through your mind and it causes your lips to curl into a Cheshire grin. He wants to play games? You’ll give him games.

You continue your trek into the dimly-lit, woodpandeled speakeasy, a renewed vigor in your stride as you make a beeline for the bar top. Kurogiri is standing behind it as per usual, wiping out a pint glass like the faithful bartender he pretends to be. You sidle up to the bar and place both hands on the oaken surface, adopting a sweet, too-innocent lilt to your voice.

“Kuro-baby.” You purr, the cutesy pet name causing the misty specter to look up from his task. “Can I have a glass of water, please? With lots of ice, if you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Kurogiri sets down the glass and picks up a shorter one, using it to scoop up a generous portion of ice from the freezer below before filling it nearly to the brim from the tap. If he has any suspicion of you, he’s very good at hiding it. The same can’t be said for Shigaraki, sitting a few stools down from you and still tapping away at the buttons of his console.

“Fucking with Staples again?” He questions disinterestedly, followed by a hiss of annoyance when the game lets out a series of gunshots. He must have gotten himself killed again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shoot back airily, swiping the glass from Kurogiri’s outstretched hand and hopping off your own barstool.

“It’s your funeral!” He calls after you, waving you off with one hand. You snicker as you march back into the living quarters, one hand wrapped around the chilled glass and the other flattened over the top to ensure you won’t spill a drop along the way. Soon you find yourself back in front of the bathroom door and, suppressing the urge to giggle, you slowly push through it and into the steamy room beyond. In spite of the hideout’s outward appearance, the place is surprisingly clean and well-kempt (all thanks to den mother Kurogiri). Two sinks stand against the left-hand side of the wall, with two doors opposite them leading to the toilets. Next to the sinks are the showers: three open-faced, tile cubes barely covered by flimsy plastic curtains. Toga is standing in front of the nearest sink, wearing a skimpy pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and washing the blood and goop from her latest transformation out of her navy, pleated skirt. She looks up at you when you enter and you quickly put one finger to your lips, smirking as you point between the glass and the running shower beyond. Toga lets loose a sadistic giggle of her own before hastily shushing herself when you hear Dabi’s bark of “Pipe down out there!”

As you move past her, you can see her mouth the words, “You’re so dead, big sis.”

You can feel a jolt of adrenaline course through your veins as you sneak up to the edge of the tiled wall separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, the glass in your hand shaking briefly. A small amount of water sloshes over the rim and spatters onto the floor, the sound barely overshadowed by the shower.

“Doll?”

His low, rumbling voice coming from the other side of the curtain sends another shiver down your spine.

“What are you up to out there?” He growls dangerously, as if he has a sixth sense when it comes to you and your shenanigans. For just a moment, the rational part of your brain takes over and makes you question your actions. Dabi’s already in a foul mood, and getting worse by the second by the sound of it. Maybe if you hold off and behave like a good girl–

Your body seems to move of its own accord. The next thing you know, the contents of the glass are sailing through the air, arching high over the plastic curtain rod and landing with a messy splat onto your unwitting victim on the other side.

“What the fu–!” Dabi’s curse is cut off by yours and Toga’s mad giggling as you sprint out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Passing by a very confused-looking Spinner, you dart inside Dabi’s room and slam the door, locking it for good measure. Seconds later, he’s pounding on it, using enough force that you’re convinced it might splinter and break off its hinges.

“Open this door right now and make this easier on yourself!” He roars, furiously jiggling the handle.

You let him pound away for a few more seconds, in part to allow yourself time to catch your breath but mostly to delay the unenviable punishment. With a deep, steadying breath, you plaster on a mildly amused expression, undo the lock, and pull open the door. Dabi is visibly seething, water dripping from his hair and cascading in rivulets down his toned chest onto the towel slung low on his hips. His brows are knitted together in rage, turquoise eyes flashing dangerously while one hand is still raised in a fist.

“Oh hey, babe. Done with the shower al–?”

His hands are around your throat before you can blink, your sassy remark devolving into a high-pitched squeak.

“You little bitch.” He spits at you, forcibly backing you further into the room as he advances. “Was that your idea of a joke?”

“N-no.” You gasp in response, voice slightly raspy from the pressure on your jugular. “I just thought–“

“Thought what exactly?” Dabi growls, kicking the door shut behind him with one foot before giving your shoulders a hard shove and pushing you onto the bed. You land with a slight bounce, the momentum giving you just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Well?” He hisses, venom dripping from the word as he glares down at you.

“I was worried.” You start slowly, tone almost loving as you gaze up at him with big, doe eyes. “You seemed so tense when you got back. And don’t think I didn’t notice those new burns on your arms. So I thought, since the mission was so hard on you…”

Your face suddenly splits into a shit-eating grin.

“I thought you might need to cool down for a minute.”

Dabi blinks for a second, seemingly struck dumb by your remark. And then his hands are back on you in an instant, roughly flipping you over to lie chest-down with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Of all the stupid–“

Your shirt is ripped over your head from behind.

“Immature–“

There goes the bra, clasps and straps lost to a wildfire of blue flames as it falls away from your body in a charred heap.

“Bratty little schemes.”

Your leggings and panties are harshly yanked down, slipped off, and discarded into some unknown corner of the room. You feel cool air hit your legs and backside, moments before a harsh slap lands on your right cheek. With a yelp, you cast a wide-eyed glance over your shoulder at the menacing presence behind you; a pillar of rage and sadistic urges looming over your naked form.

“You wanted my attention that badly, dollface? Well I’m sorry to say you’ve got it now.”

Before you can react beyond a pained, needy whimper, Dabi hooks his right arm under your thighs to haul you up and onto the bed. He lays his full weight across your back and reaches around and underneath the farthest edge of the bed to produce a simple, black cuff, attached to the nylon spreader running along the underside of the mattress. Giving it a few cursory tugs, he grabs ahold of your right wrist and yanks it towards the corresponding corner, attaching the device with practiced speed and precision. You continue to writhe and pant below him, muttering a litany of curses and “no’s” as he does the same to the opposite side. You’re now bound by both wrists, unable to do more than thrash wildly on the mattress in a humiliating, spread eagle position.

“Seems like you need a reminder of who’s in charge around here.” He snarls in your ear, pushing himself off of you and marching over to his discarded pile of clothing. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric, followed by the telltale clink of metal on metal that makes your eyes go wide.

“Y-you wouldn’t dare…” You start breathlessly, just before the first blinding sting of leather greets your exposed skin, right at the juncture where the soft swell of your ass meets the tender flesh of your thighs.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Dabi says mockingly, his tone dripping with false pity and saccharine sweetness as he takes his place at the edge of the bed once more. “I don’t have any problems dealing with a mouthy… little… brat like you.”

His words are punctuated by three more vicious blows, this time striking the meatiest part of your ass and sending the pliant flesh jiggling. The metal rivets in his belt only add to the pain, biting into your rapidly heating flesh and causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Shifting your hips in a futile attempt to get away from Dabi and his newfound torture device, you roll partly onto your side and look over at him with watery, pleading eyes.

“S-sir… Dabi, please!” You sputter out, voice already wavering as your resolve crumbles beneath the stinging sensation. But Dabi’s not in the mood for bargaining. Instead, he growls as he wraps an arm around your waist and shoves his left knee underneath your belly, hiking your ass further into the air.

“Hold still!” He barks at you, another crack of his belt sending a fresh wave of searing pain along your already raw skin. You scream in agony, unable to do more than wriggle and squirm against his hold.

“Start counting, brat.” He demands huskily, your only warning before the next punishing spank meets your burning flesh.

“One!” You gasp out, “I’m sorry! Please–!”

Another blow lands, somehow harder than all the others, revisiting the spot where ass and thigh meet and causing you to wail in pain.

“Too late for apologies, dollface. The only thing I wanna hear from that slutty little mouth is counting. Understand me?”

The arm looped around your waist tightens in warning, and you hiccup before sputtering out a shaky, “T-two.”

“That’s more like it.”

He continues spanking you at a steady pace, the only respite coming when he pauses to hear you choke out the next number. By ten strokes, you’re bawling. By fifteen, you’re practically brain dead, unable to quell the sobs that wrack through your body or think beyond the next count. He mercifully stops at twenty, dropping the belt and loosening his own grip on you. All you can focus on is the burning pain radiating out from your tanned backside, sobbing as you bury your face into the pillow below you for comfort. Dabi’s own breathing is heavy and ragged, and he takes a few deep, measured breaths to steady himself. After a few moments, that hand that once held his belt is carefully laid on the curve of your ass, and you gasp both at the gentle touch and the shock of prickly pain it brings. Judging by the way he strokes the heated flesh, you’re sure the silver eyelets have left a series of bruises behind.

“S-s-sir.” You blubber, “I’m... I…”

“Shhhh, quiet down.” He says softly, voice uncharacteristically tender as he runs his hand along the width of your heated cheeks. “It’s over now. You did so well.”

The unexpected praise makes you whimper beneath his affections, devolving into a quiet moan as his hand travels even lower, fingers coming to rest at the entrance to your heated core. He begins to gently massage at your folds, middle finger slipping inside to find you impossibly wet and clenching around the digit.

“You filthy little thing…” He breathes out on a chuckle, “Are you really that turned on by me beating the hell out of your cute little ass?”

His finger delves deeper, pussy eagerly sucking him in as you keen below him. His free hand begins to lightly scratch up and down your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of each careful caress. Without thinking, you shift further onto your knees, fighting through the pain to push against his hand.

“Please, Sir.” You moan wantonly, “More. Please.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi slips a second finger inside of you and begins to languidly pump them in and out. Pain and pleasure meld together in a sinful symphony, pants and whimpers coming from you as you rock your abused body against his own scarred flesh. He adjusts the angle and crooks his fingers downwards, curling them just shy of that sensitive bundle of nerves you know would have you seeing stars. Your back arches as you hungrily push against him, dignity forgotten in the face of pure, carnal desire.

“Getting impatient, are we?” He growls teasingly, fingers suddenly slipping out from your sopping core and wrenching a high-pitched whine from the back of your throat. He moves off the bed entirely, ordering you to stay put as he walks over to the nearby dresser and opens up the top drawer. Like the cuffs would allow you to do anything otherwise.

“Ah, here we go.” He says after a few seconds of rummaging, striding back over to the bed and taking up residence behind you. You feel the mattress dip under his weight seconds before his hands find your hips, roughly hauling them upwards and forcing your face further into the pillows. You shriek as he grabs ahold of your left cheek and squeezes harshly, pain shooting up your spine like a bolt of summer lightning. Something hard and cool prods at your quivering entrance, briefly brushing against your clit before being plunged inside of you. The sudden stretch feels at once too much and deeply satiating, sending burning, pleasurable heat licking across your oversensitized nerves. Once the toy is sunk to the hilt, Dabi gives a short grunt of satisfaction before sliding off the bed and circling around to lean over your quivering form. You turn your head to face him and he smirks at the sight of your fucked out expression: eyes red and puffy, cheeks streaked with half-dried tears, lips swollen from the bluntness of your own teeth.

“Aren’t you a sight?” He hums lowly, brushing away an errant strand of hair to plant a condescending kiss to your temple. “Such a needy little slut for me.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi pats your cheek, straightens up, and turns towards the door.

“Wait!” You squeak out, squirming against your restraints as you watch his retreating back. “You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“That’s the plan, dollface.” He shoots back, casting you a wicked grin over his left shoulder as he pulls the door open. “At least until I finish my shower.”

#bnha #bnha x reader #dabi x reader #Dabi #mha smut #mha x reader #tw: noncon #tw: pain play

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saphirered · 3 years ago

Note

I’m in love with your writing and binged your entire page one night lol

Could I request a story with Caleb where the M9 find a wounded reader on the run from people who want to use her for her very powerful magical abilities. She doesn’t trust Caleb at first because he’s a wizard and just as she opens up to him and starts to develop feelings discovers he has been studying her powers - thought with no bad intentions. Some good old angsty enemies to lovers type of beat. Preferably with a good ending but do what you wish ;))

Apparently I'm giving you more stuff to binge as this is looking more and more like a several parter 😅. Prepare for loads of angst and conflict and some good hurt/comfort to come but for now, here comes part 1! 😘

Nobody pays attention to a vagrant dressed in rags, looking about a week past their last proper bath begging on the side of the road for money or standing by a shop, mouth watering at the food. Nobody pays attention to what they don’t want to see in their pristine cities. Not unless they want to chase you away because you’re in their way or you’re tarnishing their image. Speaking about image, sometimes some rich folk will take pity upon you, casting a coin your way to make themselves look good and generous in the eyes of others.

That’s exactly what you became when you needed to disappear. You needed to become unseen, unnoticed and a shadow among a crowd. You succeed casting away all remainders of your previous life because in the end, your life is worth more to you than your earthly possessions. Survival above all. You’ll live this way until you can get somewhere where no one will question you, or where you’ll be under the protection of others, far away where your enemies cannot reach you. Maybe Vasselheim is a good place to go? They’re not fond of the arcane magics. Sure you’ll have to give up using some of your own gifts but it’s worth being able to live your life freely.

You’re still a ways away from Vasselheim and you don’t have the funds to get there yet. Even if you make it to a port, stowing away on a ship is fine but you can’t trust them to not throw you overboard or leave you stranded at the nearest island to save provisions. And that’s if they don’t hand you over to any authorities and risk you getting back to square one. You’ll have to wander around Wildemount until you’re able to book passage or find somewhere to lay low, forever on the move. It’s not the worst and you get used to it pretty quickly.

Weren’t you lucky when you saw the recent champions of the Victory Pit were strolling around town flaunting their winnings. You need food. You need warm clothes. And most of all, you could do with some extra change in your pocket. You wouldn’t be stupid enough to steal all of it of course. Just enough to get by and they wouldn’t notice. So you trail them, sticking to the shadows. They don’t seem to notice you.

Then you struck. You got the coin pouch from the ostentatious one. It was child’s play really. He didn’t even notice you lifting the pouch from his belt when you brushed against his shoulder muttering an apology. You were already amidst the crowd when you heard the tiefling exclaim his coin pouch was gone and he put two and two together quickly, the charlatan he is so before you knew it they were on the lookout for someone fitting your description. You had to move quick, buy your necessities and get out of the market. You know just the place to hide out; the Evening Nip. Nobody asks questions there.

Once you found yourself safely sipping on the shitty ale served at the Evening Nip you didn’t expect the colourful group of strangers to stroll in. It was already too late when you spotted them and you had no where to go. Still your quickly gathered up the coin back into the ornate velvet pouch and put it in your own pocket hidden beneath the layers of your clothes putting your hands behind your back as you tried to make a break for the exit. They did not let you pass, a relatively buff looking woman gripping the handle of her sword stepping in front of you while another one, though shorter blocked your escape by interposing her staff.

“No funny business, friend. You have something that belongs to my companion here, and he wants it back.” The half-orc speaks as you grit your teeth. You’d really hoped to avoid this but you weren’t stupid enough to bring out the big artillery… yet… so you lift your hands in surrender and allow them to lead you over to one of the tables taking a seat of your own accord while you’re flanked by the buff woman on one side, the purple tiefling on the other and the rest of them takes up seating of their own around the table keeping an eye on you.

“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way…” The half-orc leads as the tiefling next to you holds out his hand brushing his other over your shoulder in a soft push, mimicking what you had done when you pickpocketed him. Are they mocking you? Bastards.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, friend.” You speak innocently. You know they won’t buy it anyway, their minds already made up, but it gives you just a second more to get a grasp on all of them. You’re already plotting your escape, despite the odds being turned against you. You have to try.

“Oh, I think you do, and we simply want a conversation. You wouldn’t want to tarnish this new friendship now would you?” The tiefling grins as you look at him. You can feel the strings of enchantment pricking into your mind but you know how this works. You’ll just have to play along. You smile, like being faced with an old friend, just as the spell would have you have, letting your defensive mannerism fade.

“You’re quite right. It’s no way to treat new friends. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot.” You glance between all of them and you feel a pair of blue eyes stare into you, right through you. There’s just something about him that doesn’t add up and you’re almost afraid he knows you’re not under the tiefling’s spell after all but you do whatever you can to not show that on your face and play along.

“Should we get some drinks to commemorate new friends?” You suggest about to get up but the woman in blue’s staff moves across the table right onto your shoulder urging you to stay in place. You don’t look fazed and merely amused with this action as if it is a harmless joke and not a threat. The tiefling moves the staff from your shoulder as you turn your attention back to him as he smiles.

“I think that’s an absolutely wonderful idea. Drinks on me.” He stands with you and begins leading you over to the bar. Clive takes the order and begins pouring the ale as requested while the tiefling keeps conversation with you, completely oblivious and detached from his friends. You play along and when you reach to the coin pouch, you pull out the coins owed to the barkeep. The tiefling smiles and you can see from your peripheral the red head notices too. Both confirm you have the coin pouch. So once you pay you reach for your pocket grasping for a short iron rod placing it in your hand, whispering words under your breath as the tiefling talks to the barkeep, your hands begin to move according to the familiar motions and before the redhead can warn his lavender companion, the tiefling is frozen in place unable to move and you’re making a break for the door.

Spells fly left and right and you dodge a few, take the damage from others as the fighters dependant on close range rush for you. A crossbow bolt hits your thigh and a large cat’s claw appears in front of you. You try to dodge it reaching for you but it catches you and holds you in place despite your struggling to get free. They circle you, bind your hands, take back the coin pouch and your own limited belongings from you as you fight back trying to keep them away from you but you’re just alone and they are the many.

You feel helpless and desperate. That’s when you make eye contact with the blue eyed wizard. There’s a look of recognition in his eyes. Not for who you are directly, but the way you’re acting and lashing out, like some caged animal wishing desperately to be free, like a creature on the run, like you’re two sides of the same coin. His eyes reveal to you pain and suffering and pity but you don’t need his pity. You don’t need anyone’s pity.

“Why did you steal that coin?” The wizard asks as you glare at him from your seated position on the ground.

“Why does anybody steal anything? I’m hungry. I’m cold and I’m broke as hell.” You spit none too kindly.

“Then get a job. Make some money. Or at least learn to be a good thief.” The rude woman snorts. You roll your eyes. Typical. You know plenty of people like her, maybe you even used to be like her but not anymore. You grew out of that the hard way. She will too, in time.

“None of you noticed until you went to pay for something.” You grin and the woman is about to lunge for you at your provocation. So easy to piss that one off. Funny, actually.

“I don’t think she can just get a job. Not a regular one anyway.” The wizard observes as he stares into you. “You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” Your silence, biting your lip says enough. You don’t have anywhere to go. Once you did but that’s gone. Torn away from you.

“How about this? You spent a good deal of my friend’s coin but we’ll give you the opportunity to make it back as a repayment. Stick around for a little bit and go our separate ways when the debt is repaid?” There’s some protests but the half-orc quiets them down when the wizard speaks up in your favour. He doesn’t trust you, not after the stunts you just pulled, especially not when the look on your face mirrors his own so closely but perhaps it’s something within him that calls to him to make right a wrong, or prevent another soul to be lost to the troubles he’s faced.

With these idiots bound to make a scene they’ll call attention to themselves and by default that means away from you. This might work in your favour. They’re adventurers and given that they seem somewhat familiar with the Evening Nip, you can only assume they’re not exactly always on the right side of the law. You’re not judging but that gives you some safety and assurance should things go south or you need a quick way out. And if things really do turn in your favour, they’ll be your cover to places and funds to get you far far away from this hell hole.

“Looks like you got yourselves a new companion then, friends.” You don’t smile, only displaying an expression so neutral that makes the wizard think for a second he might have made a mistake but for now you have mutual interests and if there’s anything he can count on, it’s the reliability of a common goal, and a lot to lose should you get outed.

So next you know, you’re somewhat absorbed into their little group, learning their names and where they’re from, chatting happily but you can’t help but notice that yours and Caleb’s stories are similar in some ways, mostly the lack of detail. You’ve been raised within the Empire, but found yourself on a less fortunate path fending for yourself. The only difference between you and him is that he found Nott on his path while you had remained alone. The group didn’t seem to mind your lack of details, going with the excuse you’re not about to bare your life story to the people you only just met and you’re lucky. You hadn’t told anyone what happened since you’ve been on the run and you don’t plan on doing so anytime soon, especially not to people who haven’t earned your trust yet.

Of course you’ve been roomed with Caleb and Nott, finding yourself in one of the most expensive inns in the city, paid for by the group. Unlike Nott, who goes through your stuff when she thinks you’re not looking, Caleb is the perfect roommate. He doesn’t cross any boundaries, ask too many questions or has any annoying habits. He just reclines on his bed, going through his spellbook, transcribing new spells to add to his own collection. Every time he does you get extremely uneasy and snappy and do whatever you can to not be in the same space as the wizard. It doesn’t do your roommate relationship any good and may leave you at odds at times. Caleb may not understand why but it’s not his place to ask questions, nor does he think you’ll actually answer them. Instead you make up excuses, helping Beau with training, letting Jester braid your hair, keeping Fjord company while Molly claims their room for one of his escapades, getting some booze for Nott, or when Yasha is there, watch the storms with the woman, anything to get you out of that shared room with the wizard.

————

Rain hits the window of your room in the Pillow Trove as the redheaded wizard strolls in throwing his backpack on his bed and sitting down with a deep sigh. You look up over the edge of the book you’re reading seeing the wizard soaked through the bone wringing out his hair best he can. With a wave of your hand and words uttered under your breath you grin as the water evaporates from Caleb’s form, leaving his hair slightly more curly and frizzy, and his clothes warm and comfy. He gives you a look as you continue reading as if you’re completely unaware of anything going on in the room, completely absorbed into your book. Ignoring Caleb.

“I didn’t take you for the type that reads smutty romance novels.” He comments and gestures towards Courting of the Crick. You finally look at Caleb as if he only just gained your attention, as if you’re only just aware of his presence in the room. Both of you know better but this is how it is.

“You wouldn’t. But according to Jester you enjoy them very much.” You grin, having gotten to hear all about their little trip to the Chastity’s Nook. Caleb gives you a disapproving look as he begins to unpack his things, taking out the fresh ink and paper, setting out his spellbook and you mark your page, putting the book on your side table as you quickly get up and go for the door.

“Where are you off to all of the sudden?” Caleb asks as you grit your teeth. Can he not just leave you alone? Does he really trust you so little you’re not allowed to leave of your own accord?

“I’m going to see Jester and Beau in their room. Now I will bid you good day unless you think I need an escort for the room two doors down.” You snap. Okay, that may have been unnecessary. You could have at least been neutral. Too late for that now. Caleb waves his and as if dismissing you. Act like a child, get treated like a child. So you leave the room letting the door fall closed a little harder than you normally would in protest and make your way over towards Beau and Jester’s room.

Jester, happily lets you in and while Beau has definitely warmed up to you, things are still rocky. She wouldn’t go as far as calling you a friend, but more that one neighbourhood kid her parents tried to get her to play with despite the two of you never really having been friends at all. At least you can bond over your slightly criminal tendencies. It’s Jester who’s completely accepted you as one of her own, questioning you about anything and everything, preaching to you about the Traveler, gushing about her romance novels, specifically Oskar, which you’re pretty sure is actually reflecting her major crush on Fjord but let the girl dream. Who knows what will come of it?

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #caleb widogast x reader #caleb x reader #critical role #mighty nein

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dtrhwithalex · 4 years ago

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TV | Leverage (Season 2, Rewatch)

Rewatch of the second season of TNT's LEVERAGE (2008-2012), created by John Rogers and Chris Downey together with Dean Devlin and his production company Electric Entertainment.

In anticipation of the show's reboot / revival / sequel LEVERAGE: REDEMPTION coming to IMDbTV on 09 July this year, I am rewatching the original 77 episodes and writing about my favourite moments and things from each episode, season by season.

201: THE BEANTOWN BAILOUT JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: JOHN ROGERS. Original Air Date: 15 July 2009.

We here at the Rabbit Hole adore the Beantown Bailout Job very much (and by we I mean me). It is such a great season-opener and everything about it sets up the season so nicely. Also let me just say, I love the cheesy intro. I like to imagine that this plays on whatever website the clients usually end up finding the team. It would be so confusing. And wonderful.

This episode, of course, also introduces another of my favourite characters: Lt. Patrick Bonanno, State Police. And I am very sad that there is zero chance we'll ever get to see him in the reboot, since the wonderful Robert Blanche has unfortunately passed away last year. Bonanno was such a fantastic addition to this show and I love him very much. He is just brilliant in every episode he is in.

Aside from the introduction of Bonanno, Beantown is a brilliant episode for various reasons, but I wanna talk about this one most of all. John Rogers talked about this on his blog, I think -- not one member of the team can come straight out and admit that they need the others. It is the impromptu meeting at Sophie's performance that brings them together again (very much against Nate's best attempts). Only once they're at McRory's and Parker suggests stealing something to cheer up Sophie is when they all fess up and tell Nate that they want this team back together again. And then, of course, we have one of my favourite sequences in this entire show: Nate forcefully being bullied back into this family. They do exactly what he did to them in The Second David Job -- they get him to contribute knowledge to the case that they, allegedly, lack. And he knows what they're doing, of course, he's not an idiot. Well played, indeed.

I would also like to personally thank one Nadine Haders, this show's most brilliant costume designer, for every single piece of clothing she put on Christian Kane for this episode. That green sweater with the brown jeans jacket? All my love to you, Nadine. All of it. Also, uncharacteristically, Nate has some very good looks in this episode (the man looks healthy for once!) and I am unreasonably mad about it (actually, he has some very good looks this entire season).

One last thing: I would like to have a word with whoever decided to play the Andy Lange song here that Sophie's departure in The Two Live Crew Job is set to. It makes this first half of the season a circle. Who do I need to have words with? Who?

202: THE TAP-OUT JOB

D: MARC ROSKIN. W: ALBERT KIM. Original Air Date: 22 July 2009.

An absolutely amazing episode for Eliot but also very much for Sophie. They are the Conference Of Mom Friends, and I adore them very much, thank you. It is a fantastic episode for them individually, but especially also for the specific relationship these two people have. There is an amazing post floating around on this website (this one here) talking exactly about this episode and Eliot and Sophie in the role of protectors in their team, their family.

There are a few scenes here that I really like and really, most of them are about or with Eliot. I love in the briefing at the hotel that Eliot does not just dismiss Sophie's misunderstanding of wrestling, but takes the time to explain to her what the sport is about -- and she listens. We also here get a nice glimpse at the fact that Eliot teaches them certain fighting skills and self-defence techniques, which I just love so much. Just as Sophie coaches them all in their grifts, he makes sure that they all have a certain know-how in fighting and protecting themselves. It's so good.

I am also very fond of both the moment where Eliot brings Sophie to the restaurant to meet with Rucker, but also Sophie showing up at the gym at night to talk to Eliot while he's preparing for the fight against Tank. Eliot gives away so much of himself in this episode, and it is very interesting to me that the person he does this with is, continually, Sophie. The others may be on comms, and might be, for all we know, listening in, but it is Sophie he tells these things to. It's like Hardison says later in The Two Live Crew Job: "We trust Nate to make sure the plan works, we trust you (Sophie) to make sure we're all okay." While I would not necessarily call Sophie the heart of the group (that's Hardison), she is very much the emotional centre of it.

This episode is also just very lovely to see how they all take to an environment that is, for once, not big city life. Eliot takes to it immediately, which makes sense, because he probably is from a town not much different from this one. Parker, somehow, fits in immediately as well (I love her I <3 Nebraska shirt). I feel like Nate never has any issues fitting in anywhere, he just takes things as they come. It is Hardison and Sophie who have difficulties -- Sophie because she is, after all, a bit posh and needs certain standards met, and Hardison because his world of technology does not mix well with a small, rural Midwestern town ("Can't hack a hick" anyone?).

203: THE ORDER 23 JOB

D: ROD HARDY. W: CHRIS DOWNEY. Original Air Date: 29 July 2009.

I occasionally see some posts on here that call what the team does to Charles Dodgson in 512: The White Rabbit Job the worst thing the team does to a mark. I have to say, objectively, I think what they do to Eddie Maranjian in this episode is much worse. Of course, Dodgson is a good person, and Eddie is a crook, but still. Objectively? This episode is more evil.

Anyway, this episode has some fantastic moments that I adore a whole lot. I love Eliot and Hardison as cops, Sophie's act is absolutely amazing, and I have a super soft spot for both Nate teaching Parker what he is doing, and also Eliot and his side quest of helping Randy.

I am so incredibly fond of all these little moments where Parker's eventual role of Mastermind is already being planted. She always asks Nate questions, if she doesn't have a part to play in the con, she is with Nate, learning. She says it in the pilot episode already: "I'm really good at one thing, only one thing, that's it. But you, you know other things, and I can't stop doing my one thing, can't retire." And then she does her best to learn the other things Nate knows. This episode particularly, how Nate explains to her how NLP works, that what he is selling is fear. Nate is so patient with her, too. I love them both so very much.

Eliot's side quest with Randy and his abusive dad is an absolutely excellent addition to this episode. Especially after the previous Eliot-centric episode, this small thing just goes to show that, at their core, these are good people. Yes, they are criminals, the lot of them. But they are not bad people. Things like this just make me think that, it had to have been this exact combination of people Dubenich put together. Any other thief, any other hacker, and Nate would have walked away from this alone. It had to be Parker, Hardison and Eliot for this to work exactly as it did. And Eliot looking out for Randy even though they are in the middle of a con, taking his time to make sure Bob, the U.S. Marshall goes to see Randy, is exactly something that brings this point home.

Lastly, I adore that everyone shows up at the court house when Eddie goes to find his money. He knows they all conned him, but they know no one is ever going to believe him. It's a fantastic gloat scene. And I also really love that Nate explains why this works to the others: "So, here's everything you need to know about criminal law. Every crime has two elements, Actus reus, the act itself, and mens rea, Literally "The Guilty Mind." ... Now, for escape, the prisoner has to both break out of custody and show the intent to escape. ... Which brings us back to our friend Eddie and how the brain reacts to fear. In the heat of the moment Eddie didn't ask himself a simple question, who would doubt his guilty mind?"

204: THE FAIRY GODPARENTS JOB

D: JONATHAN FRAKES. W: AMY BERG. Original Air Date: 05 August 2009.

This one was Bernie Madoff inspired, if I recall correctly, who was arrested in 2008, around the time Berg, Downey and Rogers were already bouncing ideas back and forth for this season.

There is so much to love in this episode! Where to even begin. Maybe with Parker replacing Sophie at the client meeting? Or Sophie immediately heading for both popcorn and the cookie tin after the breakup? How about Parker perching on Eliot's arm rest with her food? Nate's headmaster act? Eliot as Coach Brewer (red is a fantastic colour on him, thank you Nadine)? Hipster rich newlyweds Parker and Hardison? The return of my beloved FBI fools McSweetheart and Taggert? Taggert being McSweetheart's biggest supporter in his affection for Parker? Sophie and Widmark? The actual science-sical with all these adorable kids singing about science?

So much to love. Chock-full of greatness, this episode. Also Frakes, once again, directed the hell outta this. I love this episode so very much.

One moment that does, however, absolutely win out over everything else, is the scene at Nate's apartment after Hardison and Parker meet McSweeten and Taggert again:

Eliot: One of you two can identify the gunman, right? Hardison: Oh, yeah, sure. He stopped and let me take a picture of him as I was chasing him. Eliot: Hey, you know what, man? I've been around little kids all day. I don't need to come home and do all this crap.

That line, Mr Spencer? "I don't need to come home and do all this crap"? Home? Sir, we are four episodes into the second season, and you are already calling Nate's apartment home. Honestly, that boy has been invested into this group as a family from the moment Hardison hands him a check in the pilot episode, if not earlier. And I am very much here for all of it.

205: THE THREE DAYS OF THE HUNTER JOB

D: MARC ROSKIN. W: MELISSA GLENN & JESSICA RIEDER (GRASL). Original Air Date: 12 August 2009.

This is another one of those episodes which, when I think about it, I am not entirely into, but then when I watch it, I always love it. It's a brilliant episode, but the mark rubs me in all the wrong ways and I think that's why my general reaction to this episode in theory is mostly "ew". Which I think is kind of the point, as well.

There is much to love in this episode, though. Sophie being Nate in this one, Nate being very wary of this concept and also having difficulties letting someone else take control ("If you don't mind, I would still do the 'Hardison, run it' thing" Nathan you precious little man, I love you so much). I think it's so nicely done. I mean Sophie has run cons before -- she was the Mastermind behind the First David Job, and she runs their con in the Second David Job as well -- but then she was confident, now she is going through things, on the brink of rediscovering herself for who she is. And of course, it bites her in the ass a little bit.

I absolutely adore Conspiracy Nut Hardison and his fantastic apartment. Set Design did a magnificent job here. I am so fond of Parker asking Eliot about the different things -- the council, the moon landing, Loch Ness monster -- and also very much the bit at the end where he and Hardison answer Parker's questions while he prepares food. That ending bit overall is just absolutely excellent and I love it with my whole heart. Eliot cooking for all of them in Nate's kitchen, giving Parker stuff to try, while Hardison sits there and sips his orange soda out of a wine glass. Meanwhile Nate pouring wine for Sophie, and then going over to her to make sure she is alright. For his slightly more sadistic streak in this season, Nate is so good with Sophie here. And honestly I think this conversation here is one of the reasons why Sophie feels able to leave them for a while. It is Nate's reassurance of "Whatever you need, I'm here for you" that lets her take this leave of absence.

206: THE TOP HAT JOB

D: PETER O'FALLON. W: M. SCOTT VEACH & CHRISTINE BOYLAN. Original Air Date: 19 August 2009.

I adore this episode! The fantastic Veach and Boylan on the keyboard for this one (who, I've had to find out, are both tangentially involved with my latest hyperfixation, SHADOW AND BONE -- Veach having written my favourite episode, and Boylan being married to the showrunner), which is just lovely, because they are both excellent.

First off, I would like to, once again, give all my love to Nadine Haders for that Pizza Guy outfit she put Kane in for the recon sequence. A+ costuming, thank you Nadine.

This episode has so many excellent comedic beats and a wonderful many Hardison/Eliot moments. Sophie trying to set up Nate with their client is absolutely hysterical -- especially considering that she had just been broken up with and had been urging Nate to figure out what it is that is between them since day one. I especially love her attempt at finding things Nate has in common with Jameson: "She's a scientist. And well, you're a bit nerdy, aren't you? ... And food, she works with food. Well, you eat, don't you?" Like, girl, what are you trying to do here, really?

I absolutely adore Hardison and Eliot trying to get into the server room so Hardison can access the data they are trying to get before anyone can get rid of it. Eliot hooking Parker's rope to Hardison's belt, Eliot's complete awe at Hardison's ability to remote access their mark's phone ("You can do that?" Eliot, honey, he can do so much more), the two of them wedged underneath the desk, and then, of course, Eliot's huge smile when Hardison hacks the scanner at the door with the help of his gummy frogs. I love these boys together so much, and this episode has given me so many great moments.

I am also incredibly fond of Nate's magician act. That is a brilliant role and it suits him so well. And I love how genuinely enthusiastic he is about magic.

207: THE TWO LIVE CREW JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: JOHN ROGERS & AMY BERG. Original Air Date: 26 August 2009.

This is an absolutely brilliant episode for so many different reasons. Let me get two things out of the way straight off the bat: 1) Where do I address my "Chaos For Leverage: Redemption" campaign to? and 2) Where do I address my "Apollo Robbins For Leverage: Redemption" campaign to? I want both of them back desperately!

Of course, this episode is important as a major stepping stone in Sophie's character arc. Because of Chaos and his bomb, she has to kill off one of her aliases which is the last thing that then leads to her taking a leave of absence to figure out who she is and who she wants to be. That scene in her apartment with the bomb is also just an excellent moment for the team as a family. The care with which everyone interacts with Sophie, Parker's instant pudding hack, Eliot's instructions on how defuse this situation, Sophie's immediate shift into protector mode once it becomes clear that the only real solution is to run and telling everyone to leave immediately, Nate staying behind and even when Sophie tells him to leave, waiting for her by the apartment door -- they care for each other so much.

I also really love the con-off with Starke's crew. It is so nice to see how similar yet different he and Nate are, and the same goes for the other crew members. I adore their individual confrontations a lot. Eliot's non-fight fight with Mikel Dayan, Parker's thief-off with Apollo, Hardison and Chaos' baby monitor fight. It just really highlights who our beloved characters are and what makes them them, now that we see them, metaphorically, in front of their mirror.

And then, of course, the actual heist is also just amazing. I adore that Starke chooses Nate as his alias to gain access, it is such a great move. Parker and Apollo talking in the ventilation shaft about birds is also just so lovely. And as an admirer of Eliot's arms, I am also very fond of his fight with Mikel. Good choices have been made, I appreciate all of them. The reveal at the end is also absolutely amazing. To beat them they had to save them? Brilliant.

Lastly, of course, Sophie's goodbye at the graveyard with Nate. What a spectacular moment. Also just, the visuals are so beautiful. I love the lighting here. And of course the return of Andy Lange's song, which is just perfect. I am so happy that this is the journey they decided to give Sophie when it became clear that Gina would not be able to be in the full seasons due to her pregnancy. They accommodated her so beautifully and gave Sophie such an amazing moment of character growth. This is why I love this show and the people who made it so much. All my love, to all of them.

208: THE ICE MAN JOB

D: JEREMIAH CHECHIK. W: CHRISTINE BOYLAN. Original Air Date: 02 September 2009.

We love The Ice Man Job! Another fantastic episode by one Christine Boylan who we love in this house. Our very first episode without Sophie being there, and it's a great one. I absolutely adore how they worked in moments with our favourite grifter in a way that so wonderfully accommodates Gina's pregnancy.

I absolutely adore the moments where all of them eventually end up calling Sophie. Parker, hiding underneath the bar after Nate tells her she'll be the grifter in this one, calling her mom Sophie in a panic without wanting the others to know, but still needing her advice and missing her so much. Then Eliot, calling to complain to his mom Sophie about Hardison going overboard again with the grift, needing the knowledge that his concerns are being heard and aren't unfounded, needs to hear the other protector of the family acknowledge his rightful fear that things will go sideways. And of course also Hardison, calling mom Sophie so she can pick him up from the party help him out of the mess he's made, hoping against all hope that she'll be able to help without having to involve Nate. The others both had the luxury to ask Sophie not to tell Nate -- Hardison had no other choice but to let her call it in. Lastly, Nate too, at the end, calling his wife Sophie. And honestly, I love that Sophie drops her phone into her drink after the call, because Nate is the only one not giving her what she wants to hear. The kids, all of them, called with an "I need you" and that is the one thing Nate doesn't give her.

There are many other things in this episode that I love very much. The opening briefing, Parker feeling alone on the big empty couch, trying to sit next to Eliot, but he makes her move. Nate's big DadTM moment of "Eliot, can you please sit next to Parker" and Eliot's very long-suffering oldest child answer "No! I'm sitting here now."

Then of course Eliot and Hardison's two moments -- Eliot telling Hardison "I ain't bailing your ass out" and then when he eventually does anyway, Hardison's smug joy, forcing Eliot to sort-of-hug him back at McRory's. Eliot's unsuccessful attempt to make him helping Hardison a decision forced onto him by Parker, and Parker refusing to accept the "blame" immediately. Their whole dynamic this episode is just so good. Neither Eliot nor Parker being happy with Hardison in this role (Parker's refusal to ride with him in the Ferrari), Eliot proudly watching Parker do her thing over the security camera ("Stuck it!").

Lots of love also to Pasha Lychnikoff as our main Russian goon, who is just fantastic here, our much beloved Lt. Patrick Bonanno, and also Nadine Haders for so many amazing looks, especially on Eliot.

209: THE LOST HEIR JOB

D: PETER WINTHER. W: CHRIS DOWNEY. Original Air Date: 09 September 2009.

Court-room episode, which means we have our friend Chris Downey on the keys here, and he gave us an absolutely excellent introduction for Tara Cole played by the lovely Jeri Ryan. Honestly, the more often I watch this episode, the better it gets. Tara is just so good.

Highlights of this episode include: Sophie's immediate "who died?!" when Nate shows up at her apartment in London, Hardison playing "Where is Waldo Ford," Hardison and Eliot in prison, the first appearance of Nate's lawyer alias Jimmy Papadokalis who wears brilliantly loud and obnoxious suits in outrageous colour-combinations, Hardison stalling Blanchard at court security with his keys, Nate's reveal of Ruth as Kimball's daughter (I am fascinated that he completely drops the character here -- he is just Nate now), and of course, the reveal of Tara at the end.

Honestly, this is such a magnificent episode to introduce Tara's character. We have just watched the team scramble and fuck up without Sophie, and then their next job gets more complicated because of this random lawyer who shows up. And she's so righteous and law-abiding and absolutely not someone they should be taking with them on their job. And Tara plays it perfectly. Her honest try at getting Orson to talk to them, her confusion about her "dogs", her excited smile when she gets to con Blanchard and be a bit dishonest -- it is so good. And then we get that complete 180° when the team finds her in Nate's apartment. Not just visually, but the personality. Her voice drops a bit too. Jeri fucking rocked this introduction. The reveal is so damn good.

210: THE RUNWAY JOB

D: MARC ROSKIN. W: ALBERT KIM. Original Air Date: 13 January 2010.

I have zero interest in fashion but I honest to God love every single one of these characters at fashion week. Fashion!Eliot is absolutely fantastical and I love him. Julien, my beloved. Fashion!Parker is very cute with her braid and even before she gets the model makeover she outshines every single other person at the event. Fashion!Hardison is surprisingly understated but I dig it. Tara as Caprina is also just excellent. And I absolutely, un-ironically adore Fashion!Nate. Jacques is such a character. Nate exchanged the usual "obnoxious and greasy" with "gay," slapped some would-be-French that sounds like German on top of it, and called it a character. And I love it.

I also very much love the three video calls with Sophie in this episode. The kids calling in the beginning, complaining about Tara. I absolutely adore both the "she's hot" moment and Eliot's "...and all the way to Europe?" when Sophie says Nate lets what is good for him walk out the door. Parker's little "I just miss you" before they hang up has me all the way up in my emotions every damn time. Tara calling Sophie to complain about Nate is also just excellent. The whole bit with Nate's "I'm sexy because I'm broken" thing is just *chef's kiss*. And of course Nate's call at the end. I love that Sophie hangs up on him, it is so fair, it is absolutely justified. And I think he knows that too.

So many great other moments too -- Hardison's Steven Seagal comment about Eliot's clothes, Nate's "Julien, sweetheart" and Eliot's little clap before taking the money, Nate and Parker at the mark's house, Eliot and Tara vs the Triads, Eliot and Parker at fashion week together ("It's a fashion show, not Thieves'R'Us"), and of course Tara's "For what it's worth, Sophie was right. You guys are the best I've ever seen ... But no one in the world, is as good as you think you are."

211: THE BOTTLE JOB

D: JONATHAN FRAKES. W: CHRISTINE BOYLAN. Original Air Date: 20 January 2010.

This episode has got to be one of my favourites, if I were forced to chose some. I love a bottle episode, and this one is just magnificent. Excellent client, great mark, fantastic additional characters, wonderful episode for the team. All around just, so good. Not surprising if Frakes and Boylan are at the wheel together, of course.

The addition of Cora is so lovely. I would have loved to see more of her, to be honest. She is such a great character. I love what her presence does to who we see Nate as. I adore when characters get to show new sides of themselves, it's so nice. Also, Nate's comment to Eliot about him not wanting Eliot to like Cora because she's like his niece? Most excellent.

I adore our three police officers too. Mickey, Danny and Johnny are such great additions. I really liked them. How they just went with whatever Nate was planning and in the end decided to just pretend none of this ever happened, it's just so good.

Doyle and the Liams as our villains of the week are also just fantastic. Also I just love Irish accents, it sounds so good. I love to hear it.

Other highlights of this episode include: Tara's "I'm Trish and I'm lonely", the kids going for their individual emergency funds stashed in Nate's place (they are all so fantastically in character, I love it), Nate using his dad's name as his alias, everyone stopping to see if Nate is going to succumb to the booze again, Hardison's excitement about pulling off the wire in under 2h, Hardison faking the weather, Eliot and Parker on safe duty. Also, rewatching this episode, I am absolutely 100% convinced that what Eliot is doing to distract the Liams from Tara conning Doyle, absolutely categorises as flirting. The way he throws that dart at the board and then buys them beer? Mr Spencer, sir, you are flirting with these guys.

212: THE ZANZIBAR MARKETPLACE JOB

D: JEREMIAH CHECHIK. W: MELISSA GLENN & JESSICA RIEDER (GRASL). Original Air Date: 27 January 2010.

The wonder twins with yet another magnificent episode. No surprises here. We have not just the return of Maggie but also of Sterling! We love this!!! (Seriously, I want both of them back in the reboot. I don't care that they're most closely tied to Nate. Bring them back.)

This episode has so many absolutely excellent moments as well. I love the opening sequence in the bar, with them going over possible next clients together, Nate kicking Eliot for flirting with the bartender, and then of course also Sterling walking in. The interaction Nate and Eliot have here is just fantastic.

Sterling: *walks in* Nate: Eliot, I'm gonna ask you not do do anything violent. Eliot: Wha-what are you talking about? I only use violence as an appropriate response. Sterling: Hello, Nate. Eliot: *responds appropriately*

And to think that Sterling only gets beat up here because Mark Sheppard's son was visiting the set that day and wanted to see his dad get beat up by Eliot. We stan one Sheppard Jr.

I very much love the scene where Nate and Sterling go over what they have on Lundy, and then Parker interrupting them out of nowhere, just sitting there on the counter, like she's been there forever (which she probably has). Also just, fantastic clothes on Parker, thank you Nadine. Maggie showing up here is of course also brilliant and I am very fond of Parker making Maggie a fugitive bag. It is so completely adorable. I love my girl so much.

Another favourite moment is, of course, Tara and Eliot getting Chernov to tell them where the sale of the Fabergé egg will take place. Tara not saying a damn thing, Eliot grumpily doing what Tara tells him to ("Do that thing with your eyes that scares people" / "What -- I don't know what you're talking about"), Chernov's complete unease about this whole entire situation, and then of course Tara and Eliot's other interaction:

Tara: What we imagine is always so much better than reality. Eliot, with the tiniest voice possible: Like love? Tara: *just stares at him, confused*

Just, *chef's kiss* this scene.

The scenes in the embassy are also just excellent. Tara and Nate pretending to be a couple, Nate's inability to deal with the idea of Maggie and Alexander, Maggie and Tara hysterically giggling while talking about Nate, Sterling pretending to be drunk (and incredibly gay) to get Parker access to the egg room -- brilliance, all the way through.

I adore Eliot taking charge of the situation once it becomes clear that Maggie and Nate have been taken hostage. Parker doing her magic and switching the bomb with the empty briefcase in the elevators is beautiful. Maggie kissing Nate instead of Lundy in what could have been their final moment and regretting it instantly the moment Parker shows up is excellent.

And the final scene back at McRory's is also just wonderful. The kids watching the news about Sterling with Tara ("I hate this guy" / "Now, you're part of the team"), and Nate talking with Maggie. I adore Maggie in this scene so much. Her and Nate's relationship is so lovely. We know Sophie understands how Nate ticks, but Maggie knows him so well too, still.

213: THE FUTURE JOB

D: MARC ROSKIN. W: CHRIS DOWNEY & AMY BERG. Original Air Date: 03 February 2010.

This episode is so good for so many reasons. First off, I adore Luke Perry (I'm still sad about him) even if he plays creeps like Rand in most everything I've seen him in. He was just so good. Second, Medium Tara is probably my favourite role of hers. It's a lot softer than many of the other characters she's done, and I love it. Also the costuming is just excellent.

But I want to talk about Parker most of all. The scene where Rand cold reads her is so well done. Riesgraf knocked it out of the park here. Also, I love how Nate, as soon as Rand starts approaching and doing his act, barely ever takes his eyes off her. He occasionally glances at Rand, but his attention is on Parker at all times. And it just makes me feel things.

The team coming back to Nate's to find Parker sitting on the floor in front of the couch, crying also makes me super emo. They are all so very careful with her here. Even Tara, who hasn't been with them for that long. I quite like how Eliot and Hardison choose to sit a bit away, giving her space, and Nate carefully approaches and sits closest to her. They are all so good with her here, I love them all so much. And I absolutely adore this part of the conversation:

Tara: So what do we do now? Parker: Cut off his arms. And his head. Yeah. I wanna kill him. Can we make that happen? Eliot: Yeah, I can...I mean, I could...

Also earlier, after Tara acknowledges that Rand is good at what he does, Hardison says "He should be shot." I adore how both our boys would not hesitate to end this man for hurting Parker like this. That's their girl and he went too damn far. And even though Nate suggests a way of retaliation that is less final, he isn't above hurting the man either. Because that's his girl, too:

Hardison: Nate had me rig the table with a mild electrical current. Eliot: You electrocuted him? Nate, smugly: Yes, I did. It helped sell the bit. Parker: I approve. Nate: Thanks, Parker. Eliot: No, her agreeing with you is not a good thing. Nate, whispering to Parker: Thanks.

And add to that the absolute joy each and every one of them have when fucking with Rand to fulfil Tara's predictions? *Chef's kiss.* Absolutely beautiful.

There is so much more absolutely fantastic content in this episode, but I just wanna point out the ending where they meet with the client again. Nate is so good with them here. The way he talks to Jodie about her baby and how she will see her late husband in the child, makes me cry every damn time. Just like Tara says, "Yeah, now I see why you do it," this is why this show is so damn good. It's because of this exactly. Because for one shining moment within so much suck and tragedy, there is goodness and a wrong that has been made right. They help people and it isn't just fleeting momentary relief. They change people's lives for the better. I love this fucking show so much.

214: THE THREE STRIKES JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: JOHN ROGERS. Original Air Date: 10 February 2010.

First half of the second finale! Patrick Bonanno my beloved! I get so sad every time he gets shot here. My man deserves better than this. I love Bonanno so damn much, man. I absolutely adore that Nate goes to see his family at the hospital. Like, this is a cop. The very opposite side of the law Nate and his people operate on. But he goes to see him anyway, because this is their cop. And I love that Bonanno's wife recognises Nate's name. "He wanted to buy you a drink. And then arrest you." That's just so good.

I also absolutely love Richard Kind as Brad Culpepper, the corrupt mayor. I would love to see him back in the reboot, but I doubt there'd be any reasonable explanation why on earth they'd have to see this particular mayor again. I just think Richard Kind is an absolutely fantastic actor.

Anyway, favourite moments. Hardison and Eliot at Bonanno's house is beautiful. I am so fond of how Hardison deals with law enforcement while impersonating law enforcement. He tears them down and builds them back up again, every single time. And I adore how Eliot just smiles at his antics. He crawls around on that carpet with the young cop and Eliot just stands there and smiles. I love them, guys. I really do. Parker pretending to be Brad's pregnant lover with Tara's help is also just most excellent.

And of course: Roy Chappell. Baseball Eliot, my most beloved. There is so much to love about this whole concept. Eliot's reluctance at first because he doesn't like baseball. The discovery that baseball is actually something cool and something he is good at. His absolute childlike joy at the energy drink commercial Hardison made him. His damn hair during the actual game. The sandwich! The enthusiasm about the sandwich. Hardison admitting that the sandwich thing is cool.

I also absolutely love Hardison and Parker as Beavers Fans. The badly photoshopped picture of Dean Devlin and John Rogers as the radio hosts makes me smile so much. So does hearing their voices on the show. Both Hardison and Parker's phone calls to them are also brilliant. Parker speaking Spanish? Marvelous. The two of them demonstrating the Beavers leaving? *Chef's kiss.*

The final showdown with Brad and then the FBI is also just most excellent. Nate going ballistic on Brad because of Bonanno. Hardison and Lucille. Parker giving Lucille a little kiss before they send her to explode as a distraction. Hardison quoting Spock to say goodbye to Lucille. Hardison being pissed at Nate about Lucille. And of course: Jim Sterling, Interpol. The bastard. I love him.

215: THE MALTESE FALCON JOB

D: DEAN DEVLIN. W: JOHN ROGERS. Original Air Date: 17 February 2010.

Second half of second finale! And it's a good one, too. This show has absolutely brilliant finales, lemme tell you.

What do we love about this episode? MUCH. Tara's naked bit is excellent. Eliot and Parker sharing a look after watching Tara's naked bit is even better. Parker turning on the porn channels on the hotel tv is hilarious. Eliot talking to the receptionist about the gym is hysterical ("Ah, the fitness spa. Isn't the Zen Steam Garden divine?" / "Yeah....delicious").

Nate on stairs vs Sterling in elevator is probably the pettiest thing I have ever watched on television and it is absolutely amazing. I don't think anything can ever top this as pettiest moment. It is just so good.

Sterling, of course, is always great fun. I love that he has his own little villain theme that announces him before he even enters the screen. Love a good villain theme. And I adore his moment with FBI Bob outside Brad's hotel room.

Sterling: Name's Bob, right? Bob: Yes, sir. Sterling: You've been here the whole time, Bob? Bob: Yes, sir. Sterling: And nobody's gone in or out, Bob? Bob: No, sir. Sterling: Then would you mind explaining, where the HELL THE MAYOR IS?!

Absolutely perfect.

Nate going back to his place always has me all up in my emotions. Also, I think Sterling here absolutely believes that what he is offering Nate, is good for him. That he can save him from himself or something. They were something like friends at some point, after all. And of course, Nate calling Sophie. She is, of course, unbeknownst to him, already on the way to save his ass. But he calls her and finally tells her exactly what she wanted to hear at the end of The Ice Man Job: "I need you. Not the team, me." Sir. I am emo about you.

And then of course the final con and the reveal of Sophie's return. I absolutely love that Parker's first reaction to Tara possibly betraying them was to try and throw her off the roof. That's my girl (I love Tara, but that was fair). Also just, if you pay attention on the boat scenes, you can see Sophie from as early as Kadjic hearing Nate's offer and then leading Nate and Eliot below deck. If you can pick out her hair and know the colour of her coat from the scene in the helicopter, you know that she is there. And then, below deck, you can see her so many times -- at one point essentially back to back with Nate -- before any of the characters know she's there. And can I just say, I absolutely love Nate's completely shocked face when he hears her voice. Those comedically big eyes are just excellent.

Everyone seeing Sophie again is done so well. Hardison and Eliot's confused "Sophie?" when she walks past. Eliot winking at Sophie after they free Nate. Parker hugging her immediately once her and Tara arrive on the ship. Hardison putting his hand on the small of her back as he passes by her to go down the stairs. I just love them all so much.

And lastly of course, the reveal of the plan, Nate cuffing himself to the railing and making Sterling leave his family alone. What Nate says to them always makes me so emo too: "You guys are the most honourable people I have ever met in my life. You have become my family, my only family. And I will never forget that." John Rogers, sir, we need to have some words once I get this lake out of my eyes. And I obviously can't not mention the kiss. Finally, finally Nate gets his shit together. And she slaps him and it is perfect. And then they leave and he sits down and bleeds and Sterling, for a moment, is genuinely concerned about Nate as a person and not merely about Nate as his only way to nail Kadjic.

Bob: Who the hell is this guy? Sterling: I have no idea. Nate: My name is Nate Ford. And I'm a thief.

Yes. Yes you are, you magnificent bastard.

[image taken from the electricnow website]

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silverwhiteraven · 4 years ago

Text

Wings of Broken White - Ch. 4

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 3 ] [ Chapter 5 ]

[ Summary: Alya takes Marinette somewhere, and it turns cute. ]

Alya decided that Marinette wasn’t getting out enough despite the fact that they shouldn't be going anywhere when it was still late winter.

“Girl, you hardly go anywhere anyways unless it’s for someone else!” Alya argues as she dragged a snugly bundled Marinette down snow and salt dusted sidewalks.

“Hey, I went to the school’s Valentine’s party last month, that should count for something!”

Allya scoffed at the weak defense. “You were, like, a ninth-wheel, Marinette. Rose and Juleka, Nathaniel and Marc, Mylène and Ivan, Nino and I, we were the wheels on that bus. You on the other hand…” She trailed off to emphasize her point.

Marinette scoffed. “I think you missed a set of wheels, Als. Max and Kim were there. Chloé and Adrien showed up, too.”

“Max was there sporting an Aro-pride flag pin and keeping Kim company,” Alya shot back. “They were just being single-wheels, together. And Adrien, with Chloé? More like she had kidnapped him to a secondary location! Adrien clearly wasn't the one to decide to show up. And remember the color coded cups? He was using the one for the ‘Single, just here to support my friends’ category. Just like Max, just like you. So my point still stands: You need to get out more often, just for yourself.”

Marinette sighed, relenting. “Fine, but next time, I get to decide where I go, so no more surprise trips.”

“Yesss,” Alya pumped her fist in the air victoriously, her wings spreading out, too. Marinette laughed and pushed her hand back down to her side while she dodged out of the way of one fairly the overexcited wing.

“Anyways, where are we going? You said something about, ‘You’re going to love it, my treat!’” Marinette quoted in an exaggerated mimic of Alya’s voice, causing both girls to burst into giggles.

“Just a café,” Alya says coyly, almost teasingly. It made Marinette squint in suspicion.

“It wouldn’t happen to be the same café you mentioned two weeks ago on the Ladyblog, right? The one they planned to theme after Paris’s new heroes?” Marinette asked, teasing her friend right back with her confident guess.

“You remembered! Yep, that’s the place! And it’s not just any regular themed café, either. It’s a cat café,”Alya revealed dramatically, while spreading her wings again to wrap them both in a mock cocoon of unnecessary but playful secrecy. Marinette balked.

“Wait, so you’re basically taking me to a ‘Chat Blanc emphasis-on-the-Chat’ Café?”

Alya snorted, pulling her wings back. “Yes, but it’s actually called ‘Hero Rescue Café’. They work together with the animal shelters around Paris, most of the cats they have are available for adoption. The profits are even donated back to those shelters to help keep the animals cared for. Isn’t that cool?”

“Mhm,” Marinette nodded along as Alya continued to rave excitedly and lead the way to their destination. I wonder if they’ll have any cats that look like Blanc? Probably not. Blue-eyed white cats were already popular, and no doubt are even more so now. Not that I could adopt a cat anyways, but it’s a niche thought. Wait, why is it a nice thought? It’s not like I like Chat Blanc or anything, no way! I don’t do crushes! Oh, who am I kidding? Marinette groaned in defeat to her own thoughts, making Alya stop talking and look at her.

“Something wrong, Marinette?”

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you, I was just thinking about how sad I’m going to be if I see a cat I really want to keep but can’t?”

Alya nodded in acceptance of the awkward excuse, and Marinette sighed in relief. I can never tell her about my crush- I’m scared to find out what kind of match-maker she would try to be. Or even worse, tell me I have no chance! I mean, I know I have no chance, but still, ow. Would Ladybug have a chance? Wait, she and I are the same person! If I don’t have a chance, neither does Ladybug! Hold on, why am I even thinking about this!?

“We’re here~!” Alya announced, breaking Marinette free once more from her internal chaos.

“Is that a cat in the window? There’s a cat in the window!” Marinette let herself get distracted by the café and Alya laughed.

“Duh there's a cat in the window, it’s a cat café, what else would be in the window?” She teased, but Marinette only laughed.

“Well I know that, but I can still be excited over a cat, can’t I?”

“Save it for when we go inside,” Alya winked, opening the door for them both. There was a second set of doors past the first, and Marinette realized that they did the smart thing and made an enclosed entryway.

“Oh, this is to keep the cats from dashing outside, like at a dog park,” she mused, making Alya chuckle.

“Yeah, and gives people a fur-free place to hang up their coats. Oh, look!” She added excitedly, pointing to the opposite wall from the hanger rod. There was something that almost looked like a long shawl or a barber cape. Marinette recognized it easily. “They have wing-covers for patrons to borrow, in case we don’t want the cat’s playing with our feathers. That’s so thoughtful. They really went all-out on this place.”

Marinette smiled and nodded in agreement as she slid off her jacket and hung it up. “It really is sweet of them. Are you going to use one?” Alya shook her head.

“Nope. My wing’s are tough, I can handle a few clingy kitties,” she declared with a proud smile, and Marinette only chuckled as she opened the next set of doors for them both.

Unsurprisingly, Marinette enjoyed the café. She spent a lot of time admiring their logo that was embedded in the resin coating of their tables. The stylized lettering was inspired by some of the animal-themed Akumas. Then the entire name was encircled by the white belt of Chat Blanc and the red and black yo-yo of Ladybug. Symbolic of two heroes saving those in need. They really thought this out. Maybe Ladybug should show her respect here some time.

Surprisingly, the café’s cats also enjoyed Marinette. Alya was convinced they had met every single cat in the building before they even got their drinks. Marinette was just embarrassed and spent a lot of time spreading her attention between each feline before shooing them all off towards other guests. One of the cats, sleek black with yellow-flecked green eyes, was too stubborn to leave, so she let him claim her lap indefinitely.

But, completely unbelievably, the café got a surprise guest. Chat Blanc himself showed up out of the blue. Alya had spotted him running across a rooftop across the street, and proceeded to book it out the door, fly after him, and then shamelessly ask to take a photo of him with the cats that were inside the café inspired by him and his partner. He was stunned at first, but agreed, soon enough beaming happily as he surrounded himself with cats.

“Is he crying?” Marinette whispered to Alya as she recorded the feline hero sitting on the floor with at least five different cats climbing his back, shoulders, and into his lap.

“The happiest tears I’ve ever seen,” Alya confirmed.

Once Alya was satisfied she had taken enough pictures and video footage for the blog, she turned her focus to getting a few personal memorabilias.

“Mari! Come here! Take a pic of me with Chat, please? I want something for my desktop background, this would be perfect!”

Marinette agreed, to the annoyance of the cat in her lap. She managed to get the photo, a cute scene of Alya, her nerdy school friend, and Chat Blanc, her dorky friend-but-only-because-she’s-secretly-Ladybug, doing a silly pose with their arms linked, wings flared out, and several cats surrounding them.

She gave a thumbs up, and Alya whooped, standing to take back the phone. Marinette stepped forward, only for the clingy black cat from earlier to entangle himself with her ankles.

With a squawk, she went tumbling, but was deftly caught in the arms of Chat before she could meet an untimely end via a floor of cats.

Marinette flushed scarlet. Chat Blanc smiled shyly. The black cat jumped up on them, getting his lap-seat back. Alya, of course, got another photo.

All three of them managed to laugh it off, but not without Alya demanding another picture of the two and the cats before she would let them stand up.

“Marinette, I’m texting you copies to keep for yourself. Sorry, Chat, I’d send you some but-”

“No worries,” he chuckled and rubbed his neck, waving her concern away with his other hand. “Secret identity means secret number. You’ll be using your own pictures on your computer, though, right? Consider me honored by that,” he bowed dramatically and the two laughed as he straightened. “And Marinette, I’d be more than happy to let you do the same if you wanted, too,” he played the comment off with a wink.

“Time for me to go,” Chat Blanc continued before either girl could respond. “Chat out!”

They watched him dash out the doors and off over the rooftops.

“Girl...Did he just flirt with you?” Alya looked at Marinette, awestruck.

“What? No! There’s no way! Nope!” Marinette flustered and started walking out in a feeble attempt to escape the accusation.

“Uh-huh, because feeling ‘honored’ to be a screensaver for one girl and being ‘happy’ in case it were to happen by a second girl, is totally the same thing,” Alya followed after, determined to tease the life out of Marinette.

“Yes, exactly! Completely the same! It would have just been awkward to say the same line twice, so he just reworded himself, that's all! He was just giving permission to use his picture for personal use, nothing more, nope!”

Alya laughed before winking playfully. “Yeah, girl, sure. That was all, nothing more, nothing less. Whatever you say.”

“Thank you,” Marinette nodded in finality, ignoring the teasing sarcasm from her friend.

Later that day, Marinette saved one of the café photos as her phone’s background, making sure to put a completely different photo as her lockscreen to avoid any further notice or teasing about her and Chat Blanc.

#marichatmay2021 #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ml wing au #chat blanc #wing-binding #willowbendt

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