#Rick is a touch starved human being and he loves you

[spamwmona]

Rick Sanchez X Reader Through A Screen pt. 1

Rick is literally a walking trigger so I guess beware. Been obsessing over this old fuck more than he obsesses over Prime Rick, so this might be a series. I'm open to ideas and changing things up if anyone wants to recommend shit, I'll do smut too if it makes you all happy. I'm bored and finally have my laptop fixed so I'm back on my shit again. I also work full time, so sorry if things are uploaded late.

He worked quietly, a few belches escaping his throat, never breaking the comfortable silence that filled his lab beneath the garage. You were above ground with his family, making small talk, he was sure, because that was the kind of person he found you to be. You clouded his mind as much as Prime Rick did these days, and he was sure it was sickening. He hadn’t looked in a mirror in weeks, but he could feel the stubble on his face as he dragged his hand down it hopelessly.

He knew taking you would bring Prime here, it was only a matter of time, and he knew he was risking his family's lives, but he was selfish. There were other Beths in the universe, other Jerrys, and Summers, he didn’t need these ones, right? All he needed was You and Morty. There was no one like you two to be found, even if there were multiple Mortys in the universe, this one made him feel something. This one made him feel protective.

What about you? He couldn’t figure out how you made him feel.

Using a piece of your hair he found in his ship, He searched each dimension for another version of you, any version of you, yet there was none.

That's what made you special to Prime Rick, but how did he get you? In a galaxy full of universes so vast, it didn’t make sense unless you died in all the others.

He asked you question after question for the first week, getting nothing but a cold shoulder and glare unless others were around. He scanned your brain, traveled into your memory without you knowing and what he found kept him up at night. That's what led him down this path, deciding to keep you here and search for Rick once more. He hoped Prime valued you as much as he led Rick to believe. 

He had to, why else would he kidnap a strange teenage girl off her world and keep her hidden in an invisible lab, drugging her with love hormones? Morty was the one who found you as Rick tried to chase the possible clone of Prime Rick down a sliding tube. He was mocking Rick, just like he always had.

You were banging on a door when you got Mortys attention. Rick didn’t care until the door opened and you fell out. At first, Rick thought Prime was using this as a distraction, but if the clone was a distraction, why have another? Something in his gut screamed this was more serious andbto take you and ditch the place.

So that’s what he did. It took you a lot of time to get adjusted, you were used to being there only to validate Prime. He would often be very loving towards you, leaving you feeling high off of oxytocin, then just as soon as you felt good about the relationship you two had, he’d criticize you, blow up on you, leave you for months without so much of a “HI”. 

That was the part you knew, you didn't know he was watching you, making sure you didn't get a scratch on you unless he permitted it. 

It was his elaborate scheme to make you feel powerless unless he was around, because more often than not, you were isolated, touch starved and deprived of human contact. It led to delusions and paranoia on your part, along with feeling cold and shut off to the rest of the world.

Rick discovered he was drugging you with a chemical that forced you to feel like you were in love with him, so after a couple days of being away, you started to feel yourself again and realized you had a strong hatred for all Ricks, including the one who “saved” you. You knew it was for his own benefit, that's all Ricks ever cared about. 

Rick grumbled and slumped in his seat, defeat washing over him at another failed attempt in locating Prime Rick. 

Above ground, the Smith family gathered into the car, realizing they forgot to grab a few things for christmas dinner and decided to have a family trip to the market, leaving Rick and You in the living room setting up more Christmas decorations. You hummed, hanging the garland where the ceiling met the wall, entranced by the beautiful shimmer.

It had been so long since you celebrated anything besides Prime Rick's success at making technology you never cared for.

Rick stood nearby adding snowflakes to the tree. He couldn’t help stealing glances at you, thoughts of your beauty and how nothing could compare to it filled his mind. He was programmed to abide by your every wish, and to keep Morty happy, to think and act like the real Rick but to care twenty two percent more than the original. He felt guilty not being able to tell anyone the Truth, but Morty had already found out, and he knew it wouldn't be long before you did too. 

Leaning over a little too far to the side, you gasped feeling the stepping stool wobble, and before long you were squealing out in shock as you collapsed on a pile of pillows Rick shot out of his hand. Rushing to your side, he quickly scanned you with his eye, then let out a deep breath of relief when the scan came back negative for any injuries.

“R-Rick… Thank you.” You mumbled, glancing up at him, then looking down shamefully. You felt a pain in your chest, waiting for him to call you stupid, or make fun of you, a reminder of how superior he was, something all Ricks seemed to have in common. Memories of Prime Rick filled your head, knowing he would have mocked you for making such a small mistake. 

“Y-yeah *brugghbb* Are you okay?” He asked, helping you to your feet, eyeing every move you made. He knew the answer already, but your body was tense and he could tell something was bothering you.

“Yeah- no, no, I'm completely fine, thank you.” You smiled forcefully at the pointy haired man. You hated looking at him, it felt patronizing. You were tortured by this man, maybe not this exact one, but by a counterpart of his. You stood up, and began to walk away while dusting yourself off, but before you could take a step forward, he grabbed your wrist, and in turn, you looked back at him, hate filling your E/C eyes.

“Something’s bothering you- y-you were fine before you fell, what's-what’s wrong?” Rick dully stared into your eyes. Keeping a firm, but gentle grip on you.

“Fuck off.” He was caught by surprise by your sharp tongue, not having ever dealt with your bipolar mood swings and only seeing the facade you put up around others. This was the first time alone with the Rick Bot, but in your head,you thought  it was just Rick. You weren't aware your savior was beneath ground haunted by his past and drowning in depression and whiskey. You didn’t know enough about Rick to know if that was him or not, you never cared to pay much attention to him, in turn making him angry because he was so used to having all eyes on him, he was so egotistical, and full of himself. 

Maybe that's what caught Prime Rick's attention. You couldn’t care for enabling self-centered assholes who believed they were on par with God, even if you didn’t believe such a thing existed, which is funny because more unbelievable things than an invisible man filled your life. Hell, traveling through dimensions is possible, who's to say God isn’t?

Rick let you go, and you rushed off to your shared room with Summer. 

[glassbxttles]

thank you sm for opening requests! could you poss do a blurb on rick being super needy and touch starved? (could be smutty or fluffy, it's up to you)

My requests are always open, my love! Send in stuff whenever you feel like it!

Thank you for requesting lil baby Rick! I loved writing this! It’s a bit fluffy, a bit of non descriptive smutty mentions, and Idk I just really like this one!

Word Count: 347

Rick knew all too well what it was like to be alone. But when he did come home, he knew you’d be waiting. You’d be there to hold his hand from room to room and hug him tightly as he dropped his bags.

You’d be there to kiss him and play with his hair, to clean his glasses with that little cloth you kept in the case in your purse. You’d be there to squeeze his hips when he was in your way at the sink before bed.

You’d be there to lay on the floor with him because the bed was too soft at this point. You’d be there to wrap your arms around him, use his shoulder as a pillow. You’d also be there to settle between his thighs, rub knots out of his sore muscles and kiss his skin.

To take him into your mouth and melt all of his cares away. He wouldn’t have to worry about not touching you, not feeling you, not having you. He’d get to watch your body, the moonlight hit your bare skin from your seat on his lap. He’d get to run his hands over all of your curves and over the expanse of your back. Every little brush of finger tips, of lips, of skin on skin— fueled a memory in Rick.

He wouldn’t have these tender moments forever, going weeks upon weeks without feeling you against him, on top of him. Without him in you. You always pressed up against him, never complained that your back hurt the next morning after sleeping on the wooden floor.

But for now, Rick had to dream of those moments, just twenty minutes away from seeing you— from getting his big hug. From getting those crying and tear filled kisses. From feeling your hands on his cheeks and your body fully against his. He was twenty minutes from wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his face into your shoulder.

Twenty minutes felt like a lifetime, when all he wanted to do was have your body against his.

@sacklerscumrag @mrs-zimmerman @fizzywoohoo @candycanes19

[stanleyb-art]

Have some of my Stan twins headcanons!

Both:

They are trans men! (This one and any attached HC to this, is not ALWAYS included in my fanart/fics but it's still there)

When either man has a nightmare, they go to each other for comfort, that includes just keeping each other company, cuddling to fall back asleep, whatever they need

They draw together while travelling and show those and the large scrapbook they make to the kids when they visit next

Stan:

He 100% has ADHD

Bisexual w/masc preference

Got top surgery and testosterone from a really shady back alley surgeon/doctor until hrt became normalized

Had PTSD before weirdmageddon but that + the memory wipe worsened it in multiple ways

Actually super cuddly and affectionate but went so long without physical contact that he hates to initiate it

He knows sign language (because in canon he's HoH and doesn't want to risk not being able to communicate if he loses it fully)

Listens to rock and folk-punk

Really creative and artistic (which is obvious considering his line of work) and has endless amounts of sketch books just lying around

Was never actually failing school, he wasn't doing great but he had D's, C's and even B's (only in gym and art but still they count) but his family didn't care

Teaches Mabel and Dipper how to box the next summer they come down

Never admits it but he is incredibly insecure, but wants to seem confident and unbothered when everyone is around

Dated Fiddleford for a bit while he was still somewhat lucid (in their early 30s), but then when he got worse, he forgot Stan was Stan and started referring to him as Ford and he couldn't handle that anymore and tried to distance himself from him

Everytime he gets a new memory, he goes to Ford, because it's really scary and Ford somehow always knows how to help

Has an ACTUAL tattoo on his back, its Ford's hand, he got it when he was sixteen as a surprise for him, to hopefully make him feel better

Actively dating their universe's Rick Sanchez and has been since their late forties (knew him since his early twenties though)

Ford:

Created his own testosterone for himself, and eventually for Fiddleford, Stan and Dipper as well

Also got his top surgery from a back alley surgeon (sort of, they were in training to be a real, certified doctor but wanted MORE practice than they were getting)

Gay through and through

He's autistic AND has ADHD

Dated Fiddleford in college and after weirdmageddon is over (I also go back and forth on thinking he's Tate's dad as well which is it's own little post)

Loves playing cards against humanity while drunk

Has played not so child friendly campaigns for DD&mD (if you catch my drift)

Monster fucker

Learned multiple languages after going through the portal, and then learned sign language for Stan when he came back

Touch starved for sure and will soak up literally any affection given to him

Likes reading to people

Got used to cussing while he was away and slips up in front of the kids constantly (which leads to MANY occasions of one of them saying it and him getting yelled at by Stan who does NOT slip up somehow)

Has ptsd and nightmares due to what happened while he was away and weirdmageddon

Mabel made him a princess unattainabelle dress to wear while playing DD&mD (which he in all honesty adores and does wear multiple times)

Has over 100 tattoos, and is a part of why he wears sweaters (but also because of his scars)

TW Self harm/suicide attempts for the next few

Ford tried to have his extra fingers removed as a teen and then tried to cut them off himself when the doctor's wouldn't do it for him (Stan caught him and stopped him before he could)

Ford attempted suicide 5 times, the first was the night Stan was kicked out and he got rejected by WCT, he tried to overdose but didn't have enough pills to do it. Next was during college, he was stressed out from the work load he had taken on and tried to overdose again, but Fiddleford caught him and saved him. Third time was while he was working with Bill, the demon made some off comment about his family, and Stan, and that set him off, so he tried to slit his throat, once again being saved by Fiddleford. The fourth time was right before Stan showed up, he was going to hang himself if his brother didn't show up, but he did. The final time was about 10 years over on the other side, he lost one of his few friends he had made and was going to shoot himself, but fell through a portal before he could and met Rick Sanchez

While most of Ford's scars are from fighting, there are a lot from him cutting and burning himself when he was younger (and the one on his throat from the one attempt)

Stan also attempted to kill himself, 3 times. First was the night he was kicked out, he tried to drown himself but was pulled to shore by an incredibly worried old man (who he ends up crashing with until he was banned from NJ). Then the second was a few months after the portal incident, he felt hopeless and scared and guilty so he tried to overdose but couldn't keep the pills down and puked them up almost immediately. The last time was the morning the kids were going home, he tries to hang himself, kicks the chair over as soon as Ford comes in to talk to him about the anomalies he found, so luckily he doesn't have the chance to succeed (the kids never find out, Stan made him swear not to tell them)

Stan also has self harm scars, but his are on his stomach and chest, so nobody but Ford, Fiddleford, and Rick know about them

Let me know if anything is spelled wrong/worded oddly and I'll fix it, too much to proofread at the moment😭

[miridiums-writing]

Hm, how about a... Thranduil dating headcanon? Pretty please.

Woohoo I love Thranduil, I bet he is a total softy and I will happily die on that hill.

Im just assuming your an elf too, dont wanna deal with the sad reality of him dating a human

I believe wholeheartedly this man is a drama queen

Anyone who even so much as mentions your name gets a legit list from him about everything he loves about you

He cannot keep his mouth shut when it comes to you

His advisers and him were gonna have a meeting strategizing to get rid of the spiders for good

Someone stupidly asked where you were and the meeting went on for three hours because he was busy talking about you

The people of Mirkwood KNOW you make him soft

So you get extra protection

Even walking through the streets of Mirkwood some of the common folk would walk beside you keeping you safe

It was rather endearing

So you can probably tell he is really overprotective

If he isn't with you he was guards to go with you

The guards are pretty good company though

Just talk to them, y'all become friends

Then its just three friends hanging out

:) 👍

After every day without fail

After he's finished all the work and is read to wind down

He comes up to the room, kisses your forehead and wraps his arms around your waist

If your sitting he'll just pull you onto his lap

If your standing he'll just pull you to a seat so your on his lap

He will have you in his lap

He doesn't care about weight

Doesn't faze him

He's a fucking elf, why would your weight be a problem

For the people insecure about their weight out there, HE DOESN'T CARE

Then you both will sit and cuddle while you both speak about your day, until you both realize the time and go to get read for bed

You are always little spoon

No matter what you are little spoon

He likes feeling likes he's protecting you

It just helps him sleep at night

Plus being little spoon is awesome because cuddle

I may or may not have made this headcanon because im always big spoon even though im 5"1 and I just want someone to cuddle me. Im sad

He will kiss you at least another 15 times before he falls asleep

He is a legit simp for you

Holds doors open for you

Helps you up the stairs

Is no joke at your beck and call

You could whisper his name in your room and 30 seconds later he's at your side asking what wrong, what he can do to help

He's just really receptive to your voice

He is not afraid of PDA

He will always pull you onto his lap on his throne during long meetings

It helps him stay calm

He also enjoys playing with your hair during this time

Cause he's soft

He does get jealous but is pretty good at hiding it

Just slyly comes over and puts his arm around your waist

Kisses your cheek and asks who this was

If you've dated him for a while you will know what's going on

He seems to always have a hand on you

Always.

He never wants to let you go

Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around or desert you

HAHA RICK ROLLED

Whenever you are ill he has only the hest treat you

Doesn't matter if its just a wee cold

Or whatever is similar since your supposed to be an elf

Then he just fusses over you

As if he didn't already

He would clear out his schedule to make sure he can take care of you for the day

If he is sick

Even more clingy

Only lets you go if you need the toilet or something

Other than that you in his arms till he feels better

Most likely gets you sick too

Then the cycle continues 😂

IF YOU HAVE PERIODS

He happily cleans up the sheets

Gives yoy lots of cuddles if you get bad cramps

Tbh doesn't this even if you don't

Gets you that weird sandwich your suddenly craving

This man is just a simp

So he will do ANYTHING for you

Even allows you to yell at him if you have mood swings and suddenly decide your mad at him

He just looks you in the eye and takes the insults

He's kinda demeaning when he doesn't this and makes you feel like a bit of a bratty child but he doesn't mean to

THE END OF THAT, Y'ALL CAN CONTINUE

If your touch starved

Your not.

Full stop

Period

How can you be touch starved with him?!!

Impossible

He has hugs, kisses, cuddles, sweet words galore

No he doesn't care who is watching

If you have any skeletons in the closet or things you've bottled up over the years he would be honoured if you told him

Tell him about that time you stole a chocolate bar from the candy shop because you didn't have money when you were ten

He's just glad you trust him so much

He will be apprehensive to showing you his large scar

But he will do it if you ask

Simp

Loves if you kiss it and call him pretty

Who

Ego boost

You are his queen and he is your king

This is such a sweet relationship

I wish I wasn't so alone 😂

[nerianasims]

Billboard #1s 1988

Under the cut.

"So Emotional" -- Whitney Houston -- January 9, 1988

It's either a song about cheating or about being hung up on an ex. She's got a love of her own, but she's "so emotional" with this other guy, and keeps a picture of him by her bed. Um, does the other guy know this? Maybe she needs to have sex with the other guy so she stops being obsessed with the touch of the previous one. It's a dance song, and I like the beat, but it's painfully repetitive in the second half. Also, while I've known the chorus to this song very well since it came out, I thought it was a normal love song until I looked up the lyrics just now. Houston doesn't sing it like she's in any pain -- well, except I bet her throat hurt from the oversinging.

"Got My Mind Set on You" -- George Harrison -- January 16, 1988

Super repetitive lyrics. But the music's really fun, and I love what lyrics there are. I wish there weren't so few, though. "It's gonna take a whole lot of money" harks back to the many Beatles songs where they sang proudly about spending money on women they loved. Still, this is an example of how George was the best solo Beatle eventually. The video's cute, too, and obviously lampshades the idea of George Harrison doing backflips and dancing.

"The Way You Make Me Feel" -- Michael Jackson -- January 23, 1988

Michael Jackson was no Janelle Monáe. On so many levels. In this case, he wasn't anywhere near her artistic standard. This song does have the lyrics "Oh I'll be workin' from nine to five/ To buy you things to keep you by my side," but it sounds more like a Beatles rip-off than a tribute. I actually didn't remember this song at all, and the video is one of those annoying 80s ones that takes an entire minute to start the song. Then Jackson does a whole bunch of "woos" and "ows" and all that stuff he did that worked in moderation. But "moderation" was not what he was doing in 1988. In any way. He actually oversings in this. I turned it off halfway through. And immediately turned to Janelle Monáe's "The Way You Make Me Feel," which I adore.

"Need You Tonight" -- INXS -- January 30, 1988

This is one of my favorite songs. It's incredibly sexy, obviously. I didn't really notice it until I was around 15, and then I NOTICED it. As I got older, the song got better. The lines "You can care all you want/ Everybody does yeah that's okay" have meant so much to me ever since I started dating seriously. Because caring was not what you were supposed to do.

Anyway, this song is phenomenal and I love it.

"Could've Been" -- Tiffany -- February 6, 1988

This song was #1 for two weeks, and all the previous ones from 1988 have been one week. How? It's a heartbreak song that starts with the lyrics "The flowers you gave me/ Are just about to die," which is painfully on-the-nose. They'd probably work in a country song, but this is lite pop, not country. Tiffany occasionally seems to be trying to do some country stuff with her voice, which is smart. But that's not enough. It's not a terrible song, but it does nothing for me. I don't remember ever having heard it before.

"Seasons Change" -- Exposé  -- February 20, 1988

Speaking of songs I haven't heard before. I like this one though. The music's pretty interesting, especially the melody. The singing's excellent. And the music behind "seasons change/people change" sounds exactly like some of the music from Persona 4, so I wonder if Atlus' composer was influenced by it, unconsciously or not. It's just a couple notes, though. Lyrically, the song is about being in love now but realizing it might not last. It's good. I'm gonna look up more of their music.

"Father Figure" -- George Michael -- February 27, 1988

The music for this song is great, and George Michael as usual sings wonderfully. But um. There are some kinks that make me run screaming even when they're really mild. "I will be your father figure/ Put your tiny hand in mine" are two of them. So if you enjoy this song, I'm happy for you, it's musically lovely. I will be going to take a shower now.

"Never Gonna Give You Up" -- Rick Astley -- March 12, 1988

There was a time when I would have easily been able to have an opinion on this song. That time was long ago. It's hard to hear as a song now, rather than an internet meme. But I will not give up. (The video has almost 9 million views, sheesh.)

Okay so they're friends and now he wants a relationship. He says "You wouldn't get this from any other guy," which is a total jerkass line. Other than that, the lyrics are -- oh who am I kidding, I can't do this.

"Man in the Mirror" -- Michael Jackson -- March 26, 1988

I try to separate the art from the artist. That's in both positive and negative directions. If I love someone's art, that doesn't mean they're a good person. If I hate it, that doesn't mean they're a bad person.

This song, though -- "I'm starting with the man in the mirror/ I'm asking him to change his ways" -- uh yeah. Liar. And it's wedged in with all this "oh you should care about all the starving kids and homeless people" self-sanctification that Michael Jackson always protected himself with. This song disgusts me.

"Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car" -- Billy Ocean -- April 9, 1988

Speaking of disgust. Yay street harassment!  I've never heard anything bad about Billy Ocean as a human being though. But I'm not listening to more than 5 seconds of this song. Gross.

"Where Do Broken Hearts Go" -- Whitney Houston -- April 23, 1988

She's singing to a man she wants to get back together with after they decided they needed some "space." There's a lot of naivete in the song -- "And if somebody loves you/ Won't they always love you?" No. Even if they do still love you, that doesn't mean it will work. But maybe it will. I've never gotten back together with someone after a breakup, though I've been asked to many times (percentage-wise.) I've always had an allergy to it, both because my parents got back together after divorcing and should not have, and because I had a friend who broke up with her boyfriend and got back together with him at least 8 times in the space of a year and I had to keep hearing about it.

So this song doesn't really speak to me. But it's pretty good. Houston sings it well too, reigning in the oversinging until near the end.

"Wishing Well" -- Terence Trent D'Arby -- May 7, 1988

That's an awesome name. The writer of this song said he wrote it when he was half-asleep, which makes sense. "Butterfly tears", okay, just poetry, but you want to fall in love near a well of crocodile tears too? Doesn't that mean you're faking? I like the song though. It's sort of funk, but softer than full-on funk. I like the way D'Arby sings it. The whistling part (keyboard whistling) is very enjoyable. It's a fun song, and one I do remember from the time.

"Anything for You" -- Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine -- May 14, 1988

A pretty breakup song. But, of course, I have an issue. "I can pretend each time I see you/ That I don't care and I don't need you/ And though you'll never see me cryin'/ You know inside I feel like dying." Well that makes his life a lot easier, doesn't it. The whole song is about how she'll do anything to make him happy. Urgh. She needs to tell him to get out of her life so she can make a brand new start.

"One More Try" -- George Michael -- May 28, 1988

Yet another heartbreak song. It's not surprising that I remember so few songs from this year. I feel like I'm back in the 60s before The Beatles again. Though this year is musically better, I'm still bored. Anyway, in this one, the narrator doesn't want to try again, and he keeps addressing the person he doesn't want to try again with as "teacher," which is... a thing. The only time he seems willing to try again is the very last line, which is "Maybe just one more try."

It's slow, it's pretty enough, it would be unbearably boring if George Michael weren't such a good singer. I'm bored anyway. No wonder we ran screaming from anything smacking of this kind of thing in the early 90s. I feel stupid and contagious.

"Together Forever" -- Rick Astley -- June 18, 1988

He certainly had a brand, didn't he? The song title tells you everything you need to know about the lyrics. The song sounds a lot like "Never Gonna Give You Up," but much more boring. A massive drum machine intro can't carry this. I do recognize the chorus, but that's it. The song is fine, really. But that's it. It sounds like a lesser knockoff of "Never Gonna Give You Up."

"Foolish Beat" -- Debbie Gibson -- June 25, 1988

Heartbreak song. Sigh. There's a nice cheesy saxophone that I like, at least. She left him and she regrets it and thinks "I could never love again/ The way that I loved you." Nope, it's never the same. That doesn't mean it's worse. It's often better. I'm not listening to the whole thing, not even in case the sax comes back. The song's too dull.

"Dirty Diana" -- Michael Jackson -- July 2, 1988

It's about some groupie trying to seduce poor widdle helpless Michael. I don't remember ever hearing this song, and it's musically whiny too. Yuck. So much yuck.

"The Flame" -- Cheap Trick -- July 9, 1988

Heartbreak. Song. Again. "You were the first, you'll be the last" oh no they won't. I entirely approve of being honest about heartbreak, but this year is just crushing with the monotony of it. At least there's a beat to this one.

By the way, in the video, the lead singer's hair appears to be made of straw. Ah, the late 80s, when people thought cooking their hair was the way to go.

"Hold on to the Nights" -- Richard Marx -- July 23, 1988

A heartbreak song in disguise. He's in love with this woman but they can't be together. Are they cheating? I don't know. I don't care. It's so boring, words and music both. Even the piano is blah.

Speaking of late 80s hair, it looks like Richard Marx used an entire can of Aqua Velva on his in the video.

"Roll With It" -- Steve Winwood -- July 30, 1988

This was a #1 hit for four weeks, and I know why. It's not boring! Or depressing! It's got kind of an old-fashioned soul sound: Horns, groove, lyrics. When life is too much, roll with it baby. Not profound, but this is a really good song. One I've heard quite a lot, too, on purpose and everything.

Also, Steve Winwood's hair would work fine today. Coincidence?

"Monkey" -- George Michael -- August 27, 1988

This is actually kind of a heartbreak song, but not really. The one he loves has a "monkey" on their back and he wonders if they love it more than they love him. Addiction is my guess. It's a high-energy dance song, though -- it sounds a little angry, not sad at all. I find the melody sort of dull, but at least there's a beat. But I'm sorry, "Why can't you set your monkey free" is an absolutely hilarious lyric, and I can't take this song seriously in any way.

I think I had the hat George Michael's wearing in the video.

"Sweet Child O' Mine" -- Guns N' Roses -- September 10, 1988

Okay, yeah, sort of a heartbreak song, the relationship sounds like it's a mess with "where do we go now?" sung a zillion times. But it's so good. SO good. And it's rock. It's no wonder that it's one of the few songs that have stayed around from this list. It's not some kind of mass-produced pap without personality. Only Guns N'Roses could do this. Great song, I love it, and I love it more knowing what came before it. Man, Slash can play.

"Don't Worry, Be Happy" -- Bobby McFerrin -- September 24, 1988

Yeah, I'm guessing people were horribly sick of all the overproduced depression on the charts this year. A lot of music critics, and other critics, were really nasty about it because of the simplicity of its lyrics and its earworm-ness. And we made fun of the phrase plenty as young teens in the 90s. But now? I think it's pretty good. Philosophically, it's a mess, but the music isn't serious so I don't think we're supposed to take it seriously. And I like a-cappella. It was played way too much back in the day, though.

(Robin Williams is in the video, which made me tear up. Oof.)

"Love Bites" -- Def Leppard -- October 8, 1988

Technically about heartbreak I guess, but I feel like they're lampshading all the songs from this year which may as well have had the same title. Probably not intentionally. I can't take this song the tiniest bit seriously. It's rock, but not with a lot of personality. Any hair metal band from the time with interchangeable bleached blond frontmen could have done it.

I think this guy used an air fryer on his hair.

"Red Red Wine" -- UB40 -- October 15, 1988

One is supposed to hate this song, or was I don't hate it. I was a kid when it came out, the pop reggae appealed to me, and I still find it fun. Neil Diamond, the original singer, likes it. I certainly find it more interesting than anything with Neil Diamond singing on it.

"A Groovy Kind of Love" -- Phil Collins -- October 22, 1988

It's a cover of a 60s song. "Baby, you and me/ Got a groovy kind of love." This version is incredibly slow, and doesn't have any interesting drum work from Phil. It doesn't make me angry, but it doesn't make me anything. It's there. My brain wandered off and I started looking at stuff on the internet while trying to listen to it.

"Kokomo" -- The Beach Boys -- November 5, 1988

I loved this song as a kid and no one is prying it from me. It makes me happy when I feel down. I got the Cocktail soundtrack this is on for Christmas in my stocking 1988 -- me and seemingly every other kid, I think the tape was massively on sale. I loved the soundtrack, and I especially loved this song. I will never see the movie. I always felt that the song was a middle-aged man singing to his middle-aged wife ("pretty mama".) Which I thought was sweet. I figured that's what middle-aged people did, went off on vacations to tropical islands sometimes, even though my parents never did. I want to though.

"Wild, Wild West" -- The Escape Club -- November 12, 1988

"Heading for the nineties," hm? Well one of the lines is "give me, give me safe sex," and safe sex messaging being absolutely everywhere was an early to mid 90s thing. It's always funny to hear someone with an English accent sing about something extremely American. This song does sound like it's heading for the nineties musically, which is good. Only heading toward though. It's okay, but not very interesting. The music is repetitive. I got bored halfway though.

"Bad Medicine" -- Bon Jovi -- November 19, 1988

Your love is like "bad medicine" and he's addicted. Like a monkey on his back. What's with that phrase this year? I don't recognize this song. It's overproduced, it's shouty, there's too much going on, and it feels like it's trying too hard. Nope.

"Baby, I Love Your Way/ Freebird Medley" -- Will to Power -- December 3, 1988

I'm used to the 90s cover of "Baby, I Love Your Way" by Big Mountain. And I don't think I'm being biased when I say the Big Mountain version is significantly better. The lead singer of this one, a woman, is way too breathy and mannered.

The "Freebird" portion is bad. Just plain bad. The man singing is also breathy and there's absolutely no oomph. Also a lite, bouncy pop song in which the woman is singing how much she loves the man and the man's like "no I gotta be free" is blech. It does not work.

"Look Away" -- Chicago -- December 10, 1988

This was Chicago's biggest single. The narrator's ex called him to tell him she's with someone new, and he pretends to be happy for her, but wants her to look away so she doesn't see the tears of a clown -- er, no, that's a better song. Same idea though.

A heartbreak song, but I don't mind it, because it's got some blood to it. It's not slow and there's a real beat. Also Peter Cetera wasn't with Chicago any more, so Bill Champlin's the lead singer here, and he's so much better than Cetera it's ridiculous. Champlin brings some guts to the song, he doesn't sing through his nose, and he sounds truly heartbroken. Worlds better than Cetera. So it's a good enough song, if you're in the mood for that kind of thing.

"Every Rose Has Its Thorn" -- Poison -- December 24, 1988

I never minded this song before at all, but I am so sick of this kind of song at this point. Whine whine whine every cowboy sings a sad sad song. You're no Johnny Cash, dude. He said something wrong, he doesn't know what it was, they broke up and he still doesn't know why -- okay, who does this? Actually wait, I know one person who did this, and he keeps saying he has no idea why either of his wives broke up with him and I do because I was there and they told him they would break up with him if he didn't change. Over and over and over and over. And now he's like "poor me, I don't know why this happened. " He probably doesn't, either. He cannot admit fault.

Anyway, projections of my own personal trauma onto a hair metal band aside, the narrator’s ex is now with someone new and he thinks "I never meant that much to you." Maybe, maybe not. Cowboy, change your ways today.

BEST OF 1988 -- "Need You Tonight" by INXS and "Sweet Child O' Mine" by Guns N' Roses. WORST OF 1988 -- "Get Outta My Dreams, Get Into My Car" by Billy Ocean

[tinydooms]

#30 (“There are souls that you feel to lean forward to, like a sun-filled window”) for Rick/Evy?

#30 “There are souls that you feel to lean forward to, like a sun-filled window”

The Western Desert, October 1922

An hour out from Hamunaptra, night had finally fallen over the Western Desert. Rick sat on his camel, rocking gently back and forth with each step, the girl he loved snug and warm in his arms.

Holding Evelyn Carnahan to him, hugging and kissing and being kissed by her, felt like the best thing that had ever happened to Rick. And it just kept getting better. For the last little while they had shared quiet kisses, lips meeting and clinging with wonder and affection or brushing each other’s faces and brows and hair. There was a wonderful moment when Evie pressed her lips to the hollow in Rick’s collarbones, tasting the smooth skin there, a sensation that gave him a delicious full-body shiver. Evie looked up at him with amusement in her glowing eyes. 

“All right?” she whispered.

“Yes,” Rick said, bending his head to kiss her again. “You’re perfect.”

Evie grinned at him, her face crinkling up in pleasure, and squeezed him a little. “Good.”

She tucked her head into Rick’s shoulder, idly stroking his arm. It was wonderful to be so entwined, arms around each other. Evie was so soft in his arms, so cozy and comfortable. Rick dropped a kiss on the top of her head and felt her smile. This really was just the nicest feeling. The camel’s gate rocked them together, soothing them both after the chaos of the past few days. Little by little Evie stilled, hooking her thumb into the turn of his sleeve, and after a while Rick felt her go heavy as she fell asleep. 

Rick took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and rested his cheek against Evelyn’s dear head. He had read stories where the hero had cradled his beloved to him like this, but had never really believed it would happen to him. Before the War, maybe, but since then he had seen and experienced and participated in the absolute worst that humanity had to offer, and there had been no place for love or romance in it. And afterwards...Rick pushed the memory of Afterwards away, not wanting to dwell on how lost and hopeless he had been. Focus on the present. Focus on this remarkable gift. Rick was no stranger to physical pleasure, but this was something different. He burned everywhere Evie touched him, where her arm rested around his waist, her hand on his hip, the fingers of her other hand tracing patterns into his forearm, and yet there was something different in this pleasure than the other times he had been with women. This was permanent. He wanted to take Evie to bed, sure, but he also wanted to go places with her, to listen while she explained the past to him, to watch her dig things up out of the dirt. From the way she held him, looked at him, Evie wanted that, too. She was safe and alive despite everything, and she loved him, and Rick didn’t want to ever let her go. She was a bright shining light; she warmed his soul. He shifted the reins to one hand and reached up to cradle Evie’s head, letting his eyes close in relief. He had been so afraid that he would lose her. 

A camel’s snort jolted Rick out of his reverie. Jonathan had brought his mount alongside them and was fussing with a blanket roll strapped to one of his saddlebags. 

“Here,” he said, “take this. Is Evie asleep?”

“Yeah,” Rick said, taking the proffered blanket, a little embarrassed. “Has been for a while.”

Jonathan didn’t seem at all phased. “Good, she needs it, poor kid. Here, I’ll hold your reins.”

Rick handed them over and shook out the blanket, shifting to wrap it around Evie’s bare shoulders. The temperature was falling fast; at least he and Jonathan had long sleeves to offer a minimum of protection against the nighttime cold. Evie’s sweater was long gone. She did not wake as Rick snugged the blanket around her, but mumbled a little before subsiding again against his chest. Rick smiled, resisting the urge to brush his lips against her hair, and took his reins back from Jonathan. He wondered what the other man thought of it all, if he would say anything. But when Jonathan did speak, it wasn’t about Evie. 

“How long, do you think, until we reach the little oasis?” 

Rick looked around at the moonlit landscape. They had come a good way along the trail, but he had only been paying partial attention to it. 

“Uh, four or five miles, I’d say,” he said. “An hour, tops. You holding up okay?”

“Oh, yes, I’m fine. A bit sore and sleepy, but I’ve had worse.” 

“Yeah, me, too.”

Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Rick was beginning to feel the after effects of battle. He hurt all over his body, and his throat was sore where Imhotep had choked him. He reached up to touch it, his fingers meeting the last of the rope burn from when he had been hanged. Rick swallowed. It could all have ended so badly. He drew in another deep breath, feeling his chest expand and release. He was alive. They were alive. 

“Thank you,” Jonathan said abruptly. “For all this. For saving my sister. Couldn’t have done it without you, old chap.”

“You’re welcome,” Rick said, giving him a small smile. “Thanks for having my back.”

“Well, I’ve never left a partner in the lurch yet,” Jonathan said with a shrug. “I’m no hero, but I’m not that bad.”

“Heroes only exist in fiction,” Rick said. “The rest of us just do what needs to be done, even when we’re shit scared. Besides, I couldn’t live with myself if Evelyn had been killed.”

“No, I’d gathered that.” Jonathan chuckled. “You’ve been making calf eyes at her almost from the beginning.”

Rick felt himself reddening. “Am I that obvious?”

“Oh, Evie’s just as bad. Ardeth Bey thought the two of you were married.”

“He did?” 

It came out a squawk; Evie stirred in his arms and Rick struggled to contain his laughter. He couldn’t help it; they were alive, and he was so happy. Jonathan, too, was chuckling. It was the sort of laughter between friends, the giddy delight of having survived an impossible situation. Rick knew that when they returned to Cairo all sorts of conversations were going to have to take place, but for now he was content to just be here with Evie, with Jonathan. They rode on in silence, Jonathan dozing in his saddle, until they reached the little oasis and dismounted for the night. 

A second wind restored all of them then, as Rick found that the saddlebags were not loaded with the expected camping gear and supplies, but rather the wealth of Hamunaptra, and Evie learned about that scarab that had burrowed into Jonathan’s arm. Rick looked over their food supplies as she fussed over her brother, feeling kind of guilty. He had completely forgotten about the scarab incident in all of the tumult that had followed. The wound looked awful, purple puckers all the way up Jonathan’s arm and a neat stab where Rick had dug the thing out. He shivered. 

“Are you all right?” Evie asked, looking him over. “Have you got any awful injuries that you haven’t told me about?”

“No, ma’am,” Rick said.

“Are you sure? Because if I find that you’re hiding any manageable hurts from me because of manly pride, I’ll-”

Rick held his hands up. “I’ve only got bruises.”

It wasn’t quite true; he was pretty sure he’d cracked a rib or two, but he wasn’t about to let Evie strip him to the waist. They weren’t there yet. Instead, he focused on dinner, dividing up their meager supplies, cutting up the stale bread and spearing it on sticks to toast over the fire. They could have some of the jerky now, and an apple each. In the morning they’d finish the bread, and there were date palms at the other end of the pond, so they wouldn’t starve, but it would be a long, hungry day until they reached the cultivation and villages to barter with. 

“We’ll manage,” Evie said, turning her stick to toast the bread evenly. “As long as we have water, anyway.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Rick said. 

“It’ll be nice to be back properly,” Evie said, settling back with her toast and apple. “Do you think the house was damaged in the firestorm?”

“I’d be surprised if it wasn’t,” Jonathan replied. “We’ll call up Daoud as soon as we get back to the fort and check.”

“I hope they’re all right,” Evie said. “You know how Fatima hates thunder and lightning. She was probably terrified.”

“Well, we won’t tell them that we had anything to do with, what?” Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t think they need to know that we’ve been conjuring afreets.”

Rick looked from one to the other. “Who’re Daoud and Fatima?”

“Our reis and housekeeper,” Jonathan replied. “They’ve been with us forever; Daoud was Father’s foreman, and then he had to retire from that because of an injury, so Father asked him to manage the household instead. Fatima’s his wife.”

“So you’ve known them your whole lives?”

Evie and Jonathan nodded. 

“Our parents had rather a magpie approach to family,” Evie said. “Father and Daoud knew each other as young men and considered each other brothers, and Fatima and Mum were dear friends. Simple, really.”

Rick grinned. The magpie approach seemed to run in the family. “Where’s your house at?”

“In Zamalek, on Gezira Island,” Evie said. 

Rick blinked. “I know where Zamalek is. Swanky place.”

Evie and Jonathan glanced at each other. Rick felt a sudden worry. 

“I mean, it’s not Garden City…” he trailed off, uncertain. He knew Zamalek to be a nice, safe, quiet place; it was where the nice restaurants and the opera house were. 

“It’s an old house,” Evie said, her voice hesitant. “It’s been getting a badly-needed new roof. It’s not fancy. But I think you’ll like it. It has a little courtyard and plenty of space.”

“‘Course you’ll want to let your own people know you’re alright,” Jonathan added. “You mustn’t let us monopolize you.”

“I, uh--” Rick rubbed the back of his head. This was going to be awkward no matter how he went at it. “I don’t have anyone. Any people. I mean, I don’t have a family or anything. It’s just been me since I was thirteen. My mom died and she was my only family, so...”

They stared at him. Embarrassed, Rick poked at the fire with his stick, avoiding their eyes.

“How old are you, Rick?” Jonathan asked. His voice sounded funny, kind of soft. 

“I’m twenty-eight.”

“So you’ve been all alone for fifteen years?” Evie’s voice was soft, too, and horrified.

“Yeah. I mean I had friends in the army, but I guess...yeah.”

For a moment there was silence only broken by the crackling fire. Rick stabbed at it, memories of the orphanage beginning to swim in the back of his mind. 

“That’s...that’s awful,” Evie said. “I’m so sorry, Rick.”

Rick stabbed at the fire again; these were not memories he wanted to dredge up. 

“It isn’t fun,” he said, trying for a light tone. “Anyway, when we get back to Cairo, I...I’d like to stay.” He swallowed and looked at Evie. “With you. If that’s all right.”

She met his eyes and Rick could see that he understood what he meant. She began to smile. 

“I think that sounds wonderful,” she said, reaching to take his hand. 

“Plenty of room for you,” Jonathan added. “Happy to have you.”

Rick looked from one to the other and back to Evie. Warmth filled him like he had stepped into a sunlit room. A magpie family, wasn’t that how they had described themselves? And now they had collected him, too. Rick squeezed Evie’s hand and kissed her fingers, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. He could stay. She wanted him to stay with her. It was going to be alright. 

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

The Remembrance Of A Kiss

I was feeling nostalgic for a fic which I wrote almost three years ago called Zeta-7 and The Kiss; it was written back when I first started writing Rnm fics. While, I don't write how I used to, I am fond of it. So, here's this finished wip. I think I'm running on nostalgia these days, for things are changing faster then I can keep up with. Anyway, I hope you guys like it. It's guaranteed to be fluffy :3

In this fic the reader thinks about a past momentous moment.

_____________________

The trouble and light anxiety you had felt about the occasion had been insignificant compared to his. Back then you had been searching for an answer or rather a solution to a predicament; the problem at the time being that you weren't sure how to broach the subject of a certain display of affection. It was neither a lack or an abundance of affection, and it seems silly now when you thought of it, which was often, but when and where had your inclination to kiss him first begin? It might have always been there, but that statement in itself seemed like a lie, for you didn't want to kiss him when you initially met him, but he had been influential; recognizing you from another time, another life, but that wasn't what you came here to talk about. No, you wanted to think of that fateful day.

That day he had been in his usual delightful mood, the kind that came about because he got to see you and was genuinely having a good day; although, with him, he tended to find good in every day and as expected he was deliciously cheerful and had a smile which could last for days upon his thin lips. Oh, how you had loved that smile for it followed you everywhere, even when you couldn't seem him; that haircut which had been copied from an old clothing catalog advertisement and moved about when he spoke; buck teeth which dentists could only dream to keep as trophies, and the hint of lip bite when he'd finished talking; it was part of the draw. You fought, swallowed, and bided your time as you thought of the ways in which you could show him you loved him. For you, there was a momentum, a force which couldn't have been stopped; beginning with his hellos, and would build as you continued to be so affected and had been desperate to satisfy the longing and affection which pulled and drowned your senses whenever he was near; it made you reason that it was the right thing to do; to express and ask if it was alright to move forward; it was and he agreed, but he never quite recovered from being kissed. 

No, you didn't mean all the kisses which occurred after and had taken place up to the present per se, but from the first one you had given him around the start of your relationship; having made such an impression, it was as though you had branded his heart and soul; that a string was tied to one of your ribs and to one of his ventricles which kept him alive only by his sheer will to withstand the forces and madness that threatened to tear him apart daily; he could never recover. You would say that he grew a little more mature that day; in mind, spirit, but not in age. To be sure, things had been so different then; Rick had been so shy when it came to romantic sensibilities, naive to others advances or otherwise natural attraction to him, believing he was unworthy of such while you had so much to learn about the mysteries of men; neither knew what the other had been going through. You hadn't known about his otherworldly adventures yet, his loneliness, or uniqueness, and he knew almost everything except your personality quirks, but as to how he knew was a different story.

Still, that was then, back when there was so much yet to be known, and you thought him to be human. You remembered how for days, he walked as though in a daze, bumping into things and hardly able to look you in the eyes without being lovestruck and tongue-tied; you were sure to watch after him to make sure you hadn't given him a stroke and assured him that he shouldn't deny his worth. Why it seemed even now he could barely function without being a little goofy after a kiss, but it was endearing; you hadn't known then about how he had been starved for affection due to lack of family and circumstances. Yet, if you had any doubts, they certainly were lessened by his attentiveness and wanting to please.

You were sure others might've tired of this behavior long ago, and you had your days in when you thought you weren't capable of managing it all, but for every time you came crashing down, he was there to help you even when you didn't want him to; for every tear and moment of grief, there was his affection which he returns out of love, gratitude, and fear all at once. Oh, if you knew then what you knew now, you would've confessed earlier; let him know how much you had cared, and tried harder to be a better friend. Still, you were making it up to him and doubted you'd ever finish making it up to him. And because he was forever grateful and happy when you kissed him, you decided to ask him one day what it was that he found so dazzling about it and to your shock, his answer endeared him to you all the more. "It's like saying h-hello." he answered matter of factly.

"Really? In what way?" 

"Gosh," he wondered, scratching the back of his neck. "it's uh - it's like touching hands, but instead of the formality of a-a handshake, you touch lips to greet and exchange not only DNA but affection. Culture or whoever happens to partake in this ritual may affect its meaning, but in such an awe-inspiring way I believe it's a reminder of trust and union; albeit more intimate."

Was that how he had felt back then? Had it been a social experiment or a daydream that had come into fruition? Perhaps neither. Maybe, he was concerned that you'd be disappointed if that so-called spark wasn't there, but the good thing was you relied more on just sparks. "So, what you mean to say is that in a sense those who kiss are bonded?"

"I th-think so."

And you believed him, for when it came to such matters, he was sincere. Why it must've hit him harder than it ever will with you, but you blamed being a creature of natural circumstance for that; your childhood and life had been happy and general for the most part, while his had more loops in it then the Whirly Dirly. Thinking of it now, the consequence of your affection was that he took to you so strongly, you were sure that if something happened to you, it might kill him; the thought being burdensome in its own right.

You had never thought of pairing the word passionate with him, but his sensibilities to and of the world in which he existed in as well as to interactions with the beings in it made you wonder if there was anything or anyone he could truly hate; himself perhaps for that was who he was most affected by. 

"Rick," you started, pushing away the unsettling thoughts as you set down the book you had been reading. "I think that's sweet. You certainly have a knack for seeing the poetic nature behind the reality, but what are your thoughts on the people who kiss for fun?"

He ruminated for a moment. It might've occurred to him that people didn't always kiss with the intention of forming serious relationships, but he would be sure to make a note of finding out later. "Gosh, I'm sure there are some benefits t-t-to it, though I haven't done much research on the matter."

Who knew where one would begin on such a subject. There were books on both physiology and psychology, but did any of them go into the happenstance of a kiss? You hadn't thought of checking, but knowing the intelligent man that he was, perhaps he had looked into it. "Research huh? Dear," you explained, "people don't just research kisses as though they are studies or hypothesized."

"Th-they don't?"

"At least not that I know of. I mean, people simply see and do. Don't they? Is there more?"

"Y-yes and no. It depends on the species."

"Hmm, I guess it does."

Again, you wouldn't know. There must've been planets, realities, and universes whose signs of affection transcended that of action, but while it was a fascinating thought, you were glad that in your reality that wasn't the case in its entirety. Searching his face, you found that his brow was scrunched up together, wondering if there was more to it. You had thought the question innocent enough, he, on the other hand, wouldn't be satisfied until he found the truth behind your inquiry. Not being one to try to disappoint him, you turned towards him and nodded. "However, I have my own answer. If you come closer I can show you what I mean."

Removing his glasses, he scooted closer; curious to see if the answer was somehow in your pocket or hiding on his face. The trust which allowed him to focus on you with conviction as you approached him was palpable. Lightly, you brushed back his bangs and passed your fingers lightly over his frown lines. Silly man, he thought too much for his own good, but if he had been unsure earlier, then the blush which dusted his ears and cheeks said otherwise. Stretching up, you pressed a light kiss on his forehead; not unlike the ones he'd give you when he thought you were asleep. And you smiled at him from the bottom of your heart. In turn, he chuckled in happy amusement; boyish in the way his eyes glimmered as though he had gotten a new toy. "Gee, that was - that was swell, but I-I don't understand. Wh-what was that for?"

"I see you and I must kiss you. It's practically the law." you giggled before repeating the action.

"Are y-y-you sure?" he wondered, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. 

Pulling back a little, you nodded. "I'm positive. Especially since it's what you deserve."

The light chuckle which escaped him only fed your joy as you peppered him with kisses. And before you could see it, you felt him smiling and glowing with happiness as his goofy grin returned with a vengeance. 

"Gosh," he sighed with contentment, "I-I learn something new everyday."

"I bet you do, but really a kiss is nothing to think too hard about."

"I-I know."

"If anything, I think it's based on a feeling. For example," you paused to give yourself a moment to gather your thoughts together. "the reason I kiss you is the same reason I've always had and it's because I care about you. In my own way, it's like I'm saying, 'Hello, I missed you, come here, I love you. Oh, I love you so very much. Thank you, for simply existing and being here with me.' Maybe we both have the same reason as to why words sometimes aren't enough, and while a kiss is simple, it's not always so easy to execute, but nothing is wrong with that. It's all done in its own time. In its own way. I am happy you let me kiss you way back when, because I adored you so much that it hurt. I still adore you, and you'll always be precious to me."

Glancing at you in wonderment, he played with his fingers then searched your face again. In his soul, he knew you weren't lying, but since you've first known him, he always seemed to be searching, as well as fighting his self-condemning mind and heart especially having been injured so many times. As though you had a world of answers for some of his simple questions that he would've otherwise been too embarrassed to ask, he'd open his mouth just to close it again. You had assured him on multiple occasions that he could ask you anything, but his bashful nature gave allowances for this; endearing in its own right. Once he seemed satisfied, he took out his notepad and wrote down some notes; if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was writing a thesis by the way the words slanted and blended into one another as he concentrated on the details, all the while sporting that lovestruck grin. "What are you writing dear? Is it a love letter? Is it about the trees, or bees, or whatever goes about in that wonderful head of yours?"

"I'm updating my notes."

This much you knew. "But on what? Not on kissing, right? That would be something." you teased.

"N-n-no," he answered softly, "but on you."

"Is that right? Is there any particular reason?" 

"Mhm," he nodded. "so I won't forget."

What a silly man he was, you thought. "It's ok to forget things, but I'm sure you won't. Besides, who forgets the first person they kiss?"

"N-not me."

"Of course not, especially with all the reminders that come after. I doubt I will, but reminders are appreciated. I wouldn't want to forget how happy you make me."

Slowing down his note-taking, he mentioned. "I like reminders too."

Of course he did. From years of journal keeping to the multiple watches and small computers that were scattered about the house, for there was so much going on in his head he needed help keeping his train of thought straight. It was just another way of saying in so many words, how much he loved you. "So do I. And trust me, I'll be sure to remind you a lot. As much as you need, and as often as I can. Hopefully," you winked at him. "I'll be reminded soon."

Giving your hand a squeeze, he softened. "I um - I don't mind reminding you. I-I really like reminders."

"I know, but do you like them more than adventures, or as far as that ship in the garage will take you?" you teased.

Replacing the notepad in his pocket, he nodded. "As far as 238,855 miles w-will take me."

Miles or kilometers were but measurements and distance, but that distance you were sure was not on Earth. "Do you mean to the moon?"

Pressing a light kiss to your temple, he answered. "Por supuesto, y-y más allá de eso. Please, don't forget"

Forget? Why would you forget? If there was a prelude, it was the flutter and happy giddiness which occurred when you caught him off guard, but to whatever came after, it was effervescent, sweet, and addictive. And while it could be said about a lot of things, he was far more complex. You see, you never recovered from being kissed, because you were enticed by his charm, and won by his goodness, but a kiss sealed the deal; for now and forever you belonged to him and you weren't going to let him forget it. Cupping his cheek, you replied. "I won't and I never will Ricky. You can bet on that," as you leaned forward, you whispered. "and seal it with a kiss."

Fin

[underatedcharactersunite]

Beauty and The Scientist; The Saviours

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Chapter Summary; Eugene has a question pondering on his mind, but he’s terrified to ask you. The Courage is there, the perfect setting is finally set but the moment is forced to a halt the second Negan and the Saviour show us days early for their first pick up. With Negan and the Saviours around nothing is ever good...  Paring; Eugene Porter X Female Reader. WordCount; 1,999 Warnings; Dwight being forceful, Angst, fluff A/N; You don’t need to have to read the previous chapter to understand what’s going on but if you could it would be brilliant.  Tagging; @eugenessix​

Arriving back home, everyone should have been in high spirits. Everyone should have been gathering around welcoming people home as you successfully got Maggie to Hilltop. However, the scene you imagined from your head was far from that, instead, everyone was consumed with grief and sombreness. Suddenly, the high morals of Alexandria had been blown to smithereens. Two incredible people had been lost by the hands of the Saviours. It felt everywhere.

The Saviours had made their presence known to Alexandria in the same manner as they had with Hilltop. They point had been made they wanted to control everything. Negan wanted to be the King of the new world.

Except they had never encountered a group like Alexandria, we had faced many battles already, and the Saviours would one day be just another story. It was natural that everyone in Alexandria was currently petrified by the new threat, and what it would eventually bring. Another fight. More death and destruction coming their way. The Saviours might have already killed Abraham and Glenn, but they couldn't stop Alexandria from regrouping.

With Negan's pending collection, everyone gathered around putting supplies in place. Every time anyone went out, people were going the extra mile to bring back more than we needed to survive. Terrified they might lose someone else.

You and Eugene had been in sort of trance. The two of you had spent considerable time apart with Rick needing you on different things, but when the two of you came together, it was like the vacuum.

As the early hours of the morning came, the sun played peek a boo behind the walls of Alexandria. You sat on your porch enjoying the quietness, that seemed to surround the place. There were no secret discussions about Rick's role of leadership, no looks of fear plastered on the faces of adults and children alike. It was peaceful, it felt like it was as if the world wasn't ready to mess with Alexandria just yet.

"You know it's an ungodly hour to be up and outside in such cold temperatures." Eugene's voice broke your concentration from the scene that currently surrounded you.

"Sorry I didn't mean to wake you. It's just so peaceful. Like nothings wrong and the Saviours won't be here in a few days, taking whatever they please." Eugene wrapped his arms around your waist, nustling his head into the curve of your neck.

"Everything's going to be A-Okay, as long as we comply with Negan's needs. I've started repairing a radio so they can at least listen to some tunes while they do whatever Saviours do." Laughing, maybe some of the Saviours found comfort in music like you used to. Perhaps there was a part of them that held human emotions.

"Perhaps Negan will appreciate some tunes it might put him in a better mood." Eugene seemed to appreciate the idea as you felt the rumbling of his chest against your back. Eugene would never admit how scared he was of the thought of losing you. So he decided he was going to hold onto you for as long as he could. When he remembered he could have forever as the perfect symbolism was sitting in his bedside table.

"Come on, let's get back inside and I'll make you a cup of coffee while we still have it." Eugene twisted you around before going back into the house that the two of you shared. Flipping the switch of the coffee machine, you observed Eugene's hunch over. This wasn't how he wanted to propose but with the Saviours looming over everyone's head.

"What's wrong, my love?" You questioned as you walked up behind him, this time you were the one to wrap your arms around him. Eugene adored whenever you came up behind him, to comfort him. The relationship was purely equal, and the two of you balanced each other out, and he liked that. Eugene knew that you wouldn't care about a fancy proposal. However, he wanted to make an effort. He knew that at times he wasn't exactly great at showing emotion especially, of the romantic kind, but he wanted to give you this. Yet the Saviours were forcing his hand it was now or never.

"Would you make the coffee? I'll be right back." Eugene sped off, leaving you speechless, was something wrong? Trying to ignore your mind beginning to overthink, you pulled two mugs from the cupboard and prepared to make the coffee.

Moments later, Eugene came back downstairs, running over to you passionately melding his lips with yours. Unexpecting the kiss, your eyes widened in shock but quickly melted at his touch reciprocating the kiss with matching eagerness.

Eugene began to question why he didn't kiss you like this more often. The sensation running through his body was pleasurable, and he could tell you were enjoying it too as you run your hand through his Tennesse top hat. Never had he found a woman who found it as intriguing as you had.

Eugene never meant to get caught up in the moment, but you were the only person in his life who ever treated him in such a way. As his hand went under your shirt, you suddenly stopped.

"I never meant to-" You pressed your hand to his lips softly, with you closed your eyes. Eugene had seen that look on several times you used it whenever you had thought you heard something.

"Sorry I thought I heard something." Leaning in for another kiss, this time Eugene stopped you.

"We can finish this afterwards, but before I get distracted by your beautiful body and your delightful touch. There's something I need to say first."

"Is there something wrong?"

"Far from that, we've been together for a while now, and I wanted this to be romantic, but with everything going on. I don't know if we're going to get a moment where the two of us are not running around like headless chickens. Which is a technical-scientific impossibility? This is the biggest thing I have ever thought about doing in my life-"

"They're here." Rosita came bursting in through your front door, your eyes widened. They were early. Too early. The two of you were forced to pull away from each other, as you grabbed your coffee cup and headed outside. This was probably going to be the last one you had for a long time.

You took two steps outside of the house to see them already going through houses, procuring furniture and food. They were savages. Unrespectiable savages, who thought they could take whatever they pleased. Someone barged past you and Eugene as you entered your home.

When the world ended, for a long time you didn't have a lot. You starved and struggled to survive. Until you got to Alexandria and they gave you a place to call yours, a base you called home. Now it was being ransacked.

"Go on and find Rick. You don't need to see this." Eugene pressed a kiss to your temple as you walked away. You were well aware that wherever Rick was, Negan would be. You would gladly punch him in the face, a hundred times over until he resembled Abraham or Glenn's bashed-in skull.

Meeting Rick and Negan, you knew immediately that Negan was going to say something. You had to prepare to grit your teeth through the entire encounter. Knowing that one day, Negan would be the one suffering, regretting the day he ever decided to mess with any of you.

"What's in that cup gorgeous?" Negan asked you as you took a sip the still scalding hot coffee.

"Coffee. Take it if you want." You offered your mug to him, anything to keep him sweet.

"See. Rick, I like her. She immediately offered her stuff to me. Just like that, I didn't have to ask. Now because of that, she gets to keep her cup of coffee. Tell me Sweetheart are you currently with anyone?"

"I have a boyfriend if that's what your asking?"

"Well, that's a dam shame. Sweetheart, if your boyfriend and you ever decide to part ways. Just know that you can always share my bed back at the Sanctuary. I've heard break up sex is great, especially when it's not with your ex." Your eyes widened, at Negan's bluntness. He had most definitely come onto you.

"Y/N, can you go and do that thing I asked you to do earlier." Nodding, you walked away rather quickly. You couldn't believe that Negan dared to hit on you. Just days after he bashed two of your dearest friends skulls in.

Strolling through Alexandria, you realised Rick didn't give you anything to do. So you observed the Saviours taking everything from your friends and family. You've never met a group of people who would just take everything from everyone.

"You looked pretty relaxed, for someone's world who has just been smashed to pieces."

"You would know that, wouldn't you? I really do not understand why Daryl ever tried to help you. It makes me wonder, how you can stand by a man like Negan." You snarled, recognising Dwight. You would never forgive him for what he did to Denise.

"You know I like my woman feisty. Perhaps I could see if Negan will let me take you back."

Dwight pushed you up against the house. The touch of his skin made your skin crawl. He was just as bad as Negan was. The feeling of his breath on your skin, the closeness of the two of you was all wrong.

"Get off of her!" Rosita snarled pushing Dwight off of you. You were relieved, which was an understatement. Standing up to Dwight, the two of you stood side by side.

"You are here to collect food and furniture. Not people, now get away from here, and if you ever touch her again, you'll be the one dead. Do I make myself clear?"

"The last time I checked I wasn't a piece of property, now go."

"This isn't over."

Dwight pretty quickly scrambled away, leaving you and Rosita standing together. She put an arm on your shoulder as you thanked her. She knew where you needed to be, who you needed to find. He was the only one who made you feel comfortable after anything happened.

Running all over Alexandria, searching for Eugene, you eventually found him passing something to a Saviour. He didn't notice you at first until he was further away from the Saviour, you ran into his arms, catching him off guard.

"Hello to you too." When you didn't reply, he immediately knew something was off. At first, he didn't push it, rather than that he cradled your head reassuring you.

"What happened?" Pulling away from him just enough so you could face him. You kept your arms wrapped around his neck, playing with the loose hairs at the bottom to comfort you.  

"Dwight just came onto me. He pinned me up against the house. I didn't know what to do- I just froze."

Eugene's stomach sunk. They thought they could do that? Trying to force someone into a situation like that, Eugene brought you closer together letting you, nuzzle your head into his neck. He knew you needed to feel close to him right now. Slowly rocking you back and forth, Eugene realised something.

The Saviours were going to attempt to destroy all of you by destroying the world that you had built for yourselves. They didn't want a world where they weren't in control of it. Most importantly, he realised that now the Saviours were calling all of the shots, there would be no right time to propose to you. He needed to let them all know that you were with someone, and if you wanted him to let them know so was he. He would gladly wear a ring on his wedding ring finger. Now, however, time wasn't on his side. So he would propose, tonight.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

An Olive Branch

Negan x Reader

A/N: angst/fluff - commission by @xlavenderseas THIS IS MY SECOND TIME WRITING NEGAN, BE NICE.

Summary: Negan gets hurt during a confrontation with Rick and you are there to tend to his wounds.

AS ALWAYS, I DON’T OWN ANY AMC CHARACTERS, BITCHES.

Things had not gone as planned, they usually do, at least when Negan’s calling the shots; and he always was. The truck rumbled down the road, creaking and clunking under the dirt road, your gun was hung at your back and sweat beaded your forehead as your fingers attempted to control the bleeding. No one had seen it coming, not even Negan. When the crew went to Alexandria to punish Rick and his group, none of you even had an inkling that the Kingdom and Hilltop would come to their rescue, and worse with a goddamn tiger and bullets. It had taken everyone by surprise, and from the look on Rick’s face, who was about to watch his son’s head get bashed in by Lucille, he was taken aback too.

They won, even if Negan had not wanted to admit it, they did, but not without sending a message to your fearless leader; a bullet to the right shoulder. It scared the shit out of you, to see Negan falling back to the ground, cursing in anger and pain. Simon had grabbed him, but the bullets were still coming, so you raced to the two men and covered them while they got to the back of the truck. Your gun held high as you waited for Negan to get to safety, shouting for Simon to help you up. Not even a slew of oncoming bullets could hide the smile on your face as Negan yelled your name, telling you to get your ass in the truck. But the moment faded as quickly as it arrived when you saw the severity of his wound, your heart dropping. Negan noticed the expression on your face and told you it would be fine, ordering Simon to get the others to stop their vehicles.

“We need medical supplies,” you told Simon, as he pounded on the wall of the truck, shouting for them to stop. “Alcohol, clean bandages, whatever you can find.”

He nodded and glanced down at where Negan laid. “Carter’s ride has it all, I got you, boss.”

Kneeling beside Negan, you tried to smile. “You’ll be fine, you’ll just fine.”

“Why do I have a feeling you’re saying that for your own benefit?”

Choking out a laugh that wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or cry, you rolled your eyes and touched the side of his face – he was cold and that probably was not a good sign.  It scared you, the thought of the Sanctuary losing him and even more, the thought of someone like Simon taking over. Mostly, you had to admit, it scared you because you loved Negan – as crazy as it sounded. He was the one that found you, outside the walls, and had taken you back to the one of his outposts; promising you safety and food, if you abided by the laws. It did not seem like much to ask for, considering you had been alone for months and was starving. It had taken a few weeks to really understand the reality of being under Negan’s thumb, and it unnerved you until he started showing up at the outpost more. He would come to check on how you were doing and for some reason, some odd reason, you were always painfully truthful with him. He laughed, a lot, at your questions and accusations of being a dictatorship; Negan found it amusing that you had not held back, like the others – like they all did.

Negan thought you were full of spunk.

But you were much more than that.

The outpost visits became frequent, he would bring extra food and clothing just for you. The two of you would sit outside, near this tree that, for some reason, had a bench under it. You weren’t sure who put it there or if it had been there before everything, but that was your spot, everyone knew it. Only Negan and you ever sat on it and sometimes, it felt special. Until you heard about the wives he kept at the Sanctuary and you realized then, why he had not invited you to move there. You had once inquired about possible housing there, but he shut it down really quick, explaining that there simply was not any room.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he sighed, placing a hand around your shoulder. At that point in your interesting relationship, there had only been lots of talking, flirting, and kisses on the forehead and cheeks, but that was all. It seemed enough for the two of you, so when he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, you leaned your head against him and listened to him change the subject. “Do you need a bigger room here? I can make that shit happen, just say the word.”

You had not wanted a bigger room, didn’t want to anger the others that lived there too – Negan had been very vocal about the special treatment you were to receive and everyone barely talked to you, afraid you would go running to him, but you had a few friends that understood and even one good friend that warned you about getting too close to Negan. That’s when you first heard of these wives he kept at the Sanctuary and it made you sick, pissed you off. So, the next time he came to visit, he had gotten an earful.

“I’m not going to be the side bitch,” you explained, not bothering to watch your tone. Negan leaned back into the bench and listened to what you had to say. “I get it, this is Negan’s world we’re all living in, but I can’t do that. I can’t be that person.”

“You’re not a sharer,” he teased, and you laughed, smacking him on the arm. He caught your hand before impact and held it. His smile faded and he sighed, looking down at your hand in his. “Listen, I get it. I ain’t happy about it, I think you’d look damn fine in one of those black dresses, but I get it.”

You knew he couldn’t let give up the wives, for reasons more than sexual, it was a power thing – you knew that and hated it, but the Negan that came to the outpost, to see you, that was the man you wanted to think of him as, nothing more, nothing less. It made you feel better at night, when you lay in bed and wished he was with you, trying to not think of him with those women and hating yourself for feeling jealous.

Now, Negan was laying in the back of a truck, a bullet wound to the shoulder. Your hand on the side of his face, his eyes watching you. He told you to be strong and to get your shit together, so you took a deep breath and did.

“I need to see if the bullet made a clean wound through,” you explained, asking him to sit up. He bitched and moaned but did it. Slowly, you took off his leather jacket and placed it off to the side, helping remove his shirt. It was the first time you had seen him without one – he was lean, hardly any muscle, but toned. Clearing your throat, you got up and moved behind him, looking at the exit wound.

“It’s a straight shot through, you’ll be fine. I just need to stop the bleeding.” Relief washed over your body and you were able to focus on the task at hand, and not the potential of Negan dying. “You’ll be fine.”

He chuckled and tried not to shiver when your hand touched his back. “You were scared for a minute, weren’t you, sweetheart?”

Smiling, you watched the nape of his neck. This was the Negan you adored, even, maybe loved. This man behind the façade. “I guess so. Some – sometimes I forget that you can die. Sometimes, sometimes I don’t want to remember. “

There it was again, your brutal honesty. Feeling silly, you sighed and prayed Simon would hurry up with the supplies.  “Shit, I said sometimes way too many times, didn’t I?’

Negan laughed and asked you to come around to face him. You do and he motioned for you to get down to him, you do, knees on the floor. He takes your hand and sighs, this deeply bothered and remorse sigh; fingers gripping at you, harder than usual. It was clear that he was conflicted and a part of you was happy because it meant he knew not everything he did was right; and that meant he was human, as evident of the dry blood on his skin.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, eyes gazing down to the ground. “I’m sorry you’re here to be around this shit, you don’t deserve it, too damn good for this world.”

“So, I should be dead.”

Negan laughed and shook his head. “Hell no, you make my days better. I just wish I could give you what you want.”

Holding back tears, you shrugged and gave his hand a squeeze. “You could do whatever you want, you have all the power.”

He didn’t say anything, didn’t have a chance because Simon appeared, supplies in hand. The two of you let go of each other’s hand and Negan ordered Simon to leave while you patched him up. The man glanced back and forth between the two of you before putting his hands up in the air and getting out of the truck. You were silent for a moment, as you looked for the rubbing alcohol. Warning him that it would burn, you poured it over the wound, and he cursed, but held still.

“I’m just going to bandage both sides up, when you get to the Sanctuary, you need to have to doctor stitch you up.”

Negan didn’t say anything, just listened as you opened a few bandages and relaxed under your touch. He smiled to himself, knowing he was lucky that Rick hadn’t done worse. But the smile faded once again, as he thought of what he had put your through; it wasn’t supposed to happen, having feelings for someone again. Then your spunky ass came waltzing into his life and he nearly forgot about everything that was going on, and that was dangerous.

But he liked dangerous.

“When we get to the Sanctuary, after Doc stitches me up, I’ll give you a grand tour,” Negan said, looking over his shoulder to you. His eyes were soft and his smile wide. “You’re gonna love it, sweetheart.”

You knew what he was doing, extending an olive branch. You knew it was going to take baby steps, but things would work out, you were sure of it. Unable to hold back the delight on your face, you smiled. “I would like that.” 

[emiliaclarkesdragons]

Preference: The house you both dream of having one day.

DARYL: He wanted a mansion, not any old mansion but one in Hollywood. Preferably Bill Murray's. You laughed at the idea but you both wanted it. When he was younger he loved watching Ghostbusters, though he never admitted it to anyone but you. He said one day they would leave the group and head to Hollywood to find Bill's house. He said that if they were lucky enough Bill Murray would still be alive and would welcome them into his house because he was happy to see people, living people, again.     You loved watching him talk about this idea, even though you knew it wouldn't happen, you loved seeing innocent childish grin that spread across his face.

(Kinda got this idea from Zombieland, it's an awesome film)

RICK: You both wanted a small house, but one big enough for Carl to have a room and Judith. You both said you wanted one with two bedrooms but Carl had walked in and asked where he was in this lovely future (he was definitely being sarcastic) and he had then said he would prefer an attic bedroom with an en-suite. This didn't harm your plans to have a two bedroom house, as long as it has an attic bedroom. "If we can't have an en-suite that neither can Carl" Rick joked, but he meant it.       As Judith began to grow and learn, the first thing she drew (the first thing you could tell what it was) was a house, with Rick, you, Carl and her standing outside of it. When you both saw it, you said to Rick, "this is the house I want, I want a home."

CARL: A modern house. You both loved the idea/ possibility as to what the world would of developed if it wasn't for the out break. You imagined that your house would have voice activated lights, doors that would open when you were near them and as you walked through, your house would great you and ask you how your day was when you got in. There would be glass touch screens all over the house, the TV also be a fish tank. You both thought the future would be like it was in Back To The Future. If you didn't have that technology you planned on making it yourself.     One thing you both said you would need is an underground bunker full of supplies to last you, "just in case" you had both said. This idea came later on when the Prison fell and you sat on the roof eating pudding.     Eventually you both knew that this would never happen and you realised that when you both got over and the realisation kicked in.

GLENN: You and Glenn had lived together as room mates before the outbreak and it was only at the end of the world you both realised you loved each other. The only house you both wanted was your flat.        You both wanted to get back to it and change one of your rooms into a guest room and mix all your cupboards up, as you would share food. You'd no longer have two sleeves each in the fridge and freezer, you'd no longer only have three cupboards each. You would share it all. You would put some of your ornaments in the living room now that you no longer had to keep in your rooms. You wanted to show your friends and neighbours that your were now partners living together and not room mates. You wanted to get a shared bank account and look for better jobs, but most of all you wanted you old flat back.

DWIGHT: A small simple flat. After all you have been through, you only really need each other to make you feel hat home. You would only need a little flat, there wouldn't be any children, unfortunately Negan had taken away that chance when you were stabbed. He had stabbed you there because you were one of his wives but was carrying Dwight's child.       You both agreed that a simple life would be just fine for you both, a bed, table with four chairs and a small sofa. That's all the furniture you wanted, you wanted the whole flat to be pure white. The reason was the same as to why you wanted a simple flat, after everything, after seeing so much grey, so much red you both wanted to see some light.

JESUS: You and Jesus wanted a small cottage in the country side. Nothing too modern, something simple but still unique at the same time. You weren't bothered about how much land you owned. You just wanted a small cottage. Jesus said it was best to have it out the way, he had been put off living in cities now and so had you. He said he would want a stable because he missed the horse and he also knew how much you would like to learn. You would both spend the weekends baking and gardening. You both appreciated nature, even more now than before, since the nature had nearly been wiped out by the 'new plague' you imagined the people would call it. You both had an new appreciation for the small things in life, like baking and cooking, you realised how simple it was now you had starved for days, even weeks. You wanted a simple quiet life, with a little cottage, away from all the madness of humanity.

EUGENE: You only wanted a little cottage but Eugene thought that wasn't good enough for you. He wanted a large house, a big family house. Not just a cottage, as he thought. He wanted a house with three floors, with six bedrooms. Although the top floor would be for his experiments but you always say he wouldn't be able too if they had children. Which that was why he wanted the big house, he wanted to have children, not just anyone's but children with you.       You didn't mind either way but Eugene wanted two boys and two girls. He said one night while you sat on his lap and played video games (you were both enjoying the new life Negan had offered you) : "our boys would have mullets like me and the girls would have your gorgeous (insert: your hair colour) and I'll teach them all about my experiments and you could teach them how to fight with (insert: your chosen weapon)" and he would grin all night thinking about it. You would plant a sweet kiss on his lips and joke: "the boys will not have mullets." And he would be too intoxicated in your kiss to object.

(I think I'm going to have to write an imagine based on this!)

NEGAN: A Castle. Negan wants to get you a castle one day. Your his queen and one day he'll get you a castle, he'll build one if he has to, to show you how much you mean to him. Sanctuary isn't good enough for you, in his mind.     At night when you are both lying in bed together, listening to the walkers chains clashing together and their growls, you both talk in a soft whisper about the castle you will have. Negan says: "I will build you one if the one we find isn't perfect for you. It'll have spiral staircases with rich red carpets running through, endless portraits of you, but will be covered by long red curtains so only I can see them. Our bedroom alone will be the size of the sanctuary..." he could go on for hours about it, which really helped you sleep as you never could with the noise the walkers made outside.

Thanks for reading! Added in Jesus, because Tom is great.

[networkingdefinition]

Espresso Quotes

Official Website: Espresso Quotes

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jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Espresso', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_espresso').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_espresso img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Been trying the soapy water and instant coffee method. Works somewhat, but boy it tastes terrible. I don’t know how you guys can stand it. I’m going back to milk and espresso for my cappas. – David Lynch • Can we just call them storm spirits?” Leo asked. “Venti makes them sound like evil espresso drinks. – Rick Riordan • Coffee arrived and the espresso was excellent, like an aromatic electric fence. – Ben Aaronovitch • Coffee which makes the politician wise, and see through all things with his half-shut eyes. – Alexander Pope • Coffee?” Santangelo calls down to us. We both look up. He,Ben, and Raffy are hanging over the side. “Is it espresso?” Anson Choi asks behind us. “Freshly percolated,” Ben answers. “You should see the gadgets they have up here.” Anson Choi aims a begging look at Griggs. “You want to sell out over a coffee?” Griggs asks him with disgust. “They’ve got muffins as well,” I tell them. “Double chocolate chip. His mum made them.” Griggs gets up and holds out a hand to me. “Truce. – Melina Marchetta • Compared with other Americans, journalists are more likely to live in upscale neighborhoods, have maids, own Mercedes and trade stocks, and less likely to go to church, do volunteer work or put down roots in a community. Journalists are over-represented in ZIP code areas where residents are twice as likely as other Americans to rent foreign movies, drink Chablis, own an espresso maker and read magazines such as Architectural Digest and Food & Wine. – John Leo • Espresso consumption is an aesthetic experience,like tasting a vintage wine or admiring a painting. – Andrea Illy • Espresso is a miracle of chemistry in a cup. – Andrea Illy • Espresso is to Italy, what champagne is to France. – Charles Maurice de Talleyrand

• Good communication is just as stimulating as black coffee, and just as hard to sleep after. – Anne Morrow Lindbergh • Having acquired an espresso machine as good as a solid e-61 and a very good grinder, your incremental dollars will be best spent on either buying truly badass coffee, or setting up a roasting setup yourself that with lots of effort will allow you to produce high end roasted coffee. – Ken Fox • I bought an espresso maker and coffee maker and make them myself every day. – Utada Hikaru • I do, but I don’t like doing that. I would do it out of hate or anger. I would do it because some- one was pushing my buttons, but really I don’t want to break my back in some European city while everyone else is drinking espresso. I only do it because someone refused to pay for the shipping, or something like that. I don’t want to let a whole city of people down. – Josh Smith • I get energy from meditation practice and from eating healthy fresh food, only one cup of espresso in the morning, and not drinking too much. – Richard Simmons • I got hooked on espresso when I visited Italy at 18, but these days I prefer a ‘flat white.’ It’s like a small latte with less milk – they’re popular in Australia. – Hugh Jackman • I know there are other writers who sit down religiously every morning, they take their espresso, they put a clean sheet of paper there and they sit looking at that paper until they’ve finished or covered at least a number of those pages. No, I’m not like that. I have to be ready. It has to gestate it for quite a while and then it’s ready to burst forth. – Wole Soyinka • I like the Valentino store in Rome.Because in Rome when I’d be riding my bike, that store is right next to the Spanish Steps, and it gets so crowded there, so I could sometimes duck into the Valentino store and go up to the top floor and have a little espresso and just relax and take it easy. – Owen Wilson • I love coffee. I love a midday espresso on set, just for the energy. – Carrie Brownstein • I probably have about four or five cups of coffee a day. I make myself an espresso macchiato when I wake, which is a shot of espresso and just a dollop of steamed milk. Then, if I’m going to do some work at home, I would make myself a French press. It’s the best way to make conventional coffee. – Howard Schultz • I used to have two double espressos a day. I gave that up, had headaches for five days but now I’m feeling great. – Hugo Weaving • I usually get up not before 9. I have a huge library – I’m a big fan of Scandinavian crime fiction – so I’ll usually take a book and go off to one of my favorite bistros for a cappuccino or espresso or maybe I’ll have some lovely smoked salmon for breakfast. – Anthony Geary • If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; but if this is tea, please bring me some coffee. – Abraham Lincoln • If you’re a Kanye West fan, you’re not a fan of me, you’re a fan of yourself. You will believe in yourself. I’m just the espresso. – Kanye West • It was her first book, an indigo cover with a silver moonflower, an art nouveau flower, I traced my finger along the silver line like smoke, whiplash curves. … I touched the pages her hands touched, I pressed them to my lips, the soft thick old paper, yellow now, fragile as skin. I stuck my nose between the bindings and smelled all the readings she had given, the smell of unfiltered cigarettes and the espresso machine, beaches and incense and whispered words in the night. I could hear her voice rising from the pages. The cover curled outward like sails. – Janet Fitch • Leo: “So…giants who can throw mountains. Friendly wolves that will eat us if we show weakness. Evil espresso drinks. Gotcha. Maybe this isn’t the best time to bring up my psycho babysitter.” Piper: “Is that another joke? – Rick Riordan • Now-what’s our game plan?” Coach Hedge belched. He’d already had three espressos and a plate of doughnuts, along with two napkins and another flower from the vase on the table. He would’ve eaten the silverware, except Piper had slapped his hand. “Climb the mountain,” Hedge said. “Kill everything except Piper’s dad. Leave.” “Thank you General Eisenhower,” Jason grumbles. – Rick Riordan • Once I had a potentially heart attack-inducing eight double espressos in one day. I think my assistant secretly swaps my coffees for decaf as she doesn’t want me to die of caffeine overdose. – Steven Soderbergh • Sleep is critical to me… at least eight or nine hours a night. I start to slow down my body and my mind at least 30 minutes before I get into bed. I don’t watch any disturbing or invigorating TV at night. I also get energy from meditation practice and from eating healthy fresh food, only one cup of espresso in the morning, and not drinking too much. – Jane Fonda • Starving to be skinny isn’t my thing. When I don’t eat, it affects my mood! On-set, I fuel up with small meals and I’m always grabbing high-protein snacks, like almonds. Chai lattes with espresso also keep me going. – Nina Dobrev • The magic of espresso is that it’s only made with 50 beans. – Andrea Illy • The quintessential expression of coffee is espresso. – Ernesto Illy • The voodoo priest and all his powders were as nothing compared to espresso, cappuccino, and mocha, which are stronger than all the religions of the world combined, and perhaps stronger than the human soul itself. – Mark Helprin • Their offense is shakier than Katherine Hepburn after an all-night espresso bender at Starbucks. – Dennis Miller • There are certain aspects of acting that I don’t like. I’m not a person who loves being on set. I mean, I know people that have their espresso machines in their trailers and they like being in there and they put pictures on walls. But I don’t like it. I don’t like sitting around. – Joaquin Phoenix • To espresso or to latte, that is the question…whether ’tis tastier on the palate to choose white mocha over plain…or to take a cup to go. Or a mug to stay, or extra cream, or have nothing, and by opposing the endless choice, end one’s heartache. – Jasper Fforde • To me, every kitchen appliance is useful and nothing’s overrated. When I look at my little espresso machine, I don’t see coffee. I see a steaming valve as an opportunity to make amazing creme brulee. – Grant Achatz • Until now, I’ve been a kind of binge-writer – I’ll carve out five or six hours on a weekend day and make a large container of espresso and just bang out a lot of words. – Lev Grossman • Waitress!” Hedge called. “Six double espressos, and whatever these guys want. Put it on the girl’s tab. – Rick Riordan • We are too often double espresso followers of a decaf Sovereign. – John Ortberg • What I don’t like is breakfast in the morning. I have a double-espresso cappuccino, but no food. – Wolfgang Puck • What’s it like to be a baby? It’s like being in love in Paris for the first time after you’ve had three double espressos. – Alison Gopnik • When I first discovered in the early 1980s the Italian espresso bars in my trip to Italy, the vision was to re-create that for America – a third place that had not existed before. Starbucks re-created that in America in our own image; a place to go other than home or work. We also created an industry that did not exist: specialty coffee. – Howard Schultz • When somebody is a little bit wrong – say, when a waited puts nonfat milk in your espresso macchiato, instead of lowfat milk – it is often quite easy to explain to them how and why they are wrong. But if somebody is surprisingly wrong – say, when a waiter bites your nose instead of taking your order – you can often be so surprised that you are unable to say anything at all. Paralyzed by how wrong the waiter is, your moth would hang slightly open and your eyes would blink over and over, but you would be unable to say a word. – Daniel Handler

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Espresso Quotes

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• A good espresso to me is a little bit salty; you just become used to a good taste. Anytime I go into a new place and they don’t clean their machine properly or the water temperature isn’t right, it tastes awful. – Andrew Bird • American coffee can be a pale solution served at a temperature of 100 degrees centigrade in plastic thermos cups, usually obligatory in railroad stations for purposes of genocide, whereas coffee made with an American percolator, such as you find in private houses or in humble luncheonettes, served with eggs and bacon, is delicious, fragrant, goes down like pure spring water, and afterwards causes severe palpitations, because one cup contains more caffeine than four espressos. – Umberto Eco

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Espresso', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_espresso').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_espresso img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Been trying the soapy water and instant coffee method. Works somewhat, but boy it tastes terrible. I don’t know how you guys can stand it. I’m going back to milk and espresso for my cappas. – David Lynch • Can we just call them storm spirits?” Leo asked. “Venti makes them sound like evil espresso drinks. – Rick Riordan • Coffee arrived and the espresso was excellent, like an aromatic electric fence. – Ben Aaronovitch • Coffee which makes the politician wise, and see through all things with his half-shut eyes. – Alexander Pope • Coffee?” Santangelo calls down to us. We both look up. He,Ben, and Raffy are hanging over the side. “Is it espresso?” Anson Choi asks behind us. “Freshly percolated,” Ben answers. “You should see the gadgets they have up here.” Anson Choi aims a begging look at Griggs. “You want to sell out over a coffee?” Griggs asks him with disgust. “They’ve got muffins as well,” I tell them. “Double chocolate chip. His mum made them.” Griggs gets up and holds out a hand to me. “Truce. – Melina Marchetta • Compared with other Americans, journalists are more likely to live in upscale neighborhoods, have maids, own Mercedes and trade stocks, and less likely to go to church, do volunteer work or put down roots in a community. Journalists are over-represented in ZIP code areas where residents are twice as likely as other Americans to rent foreign movies, drink Chablis, own an espresso maker and read magazines such as Architectural Digest and Food & Wine. – John Leo • Espresso consumption is an aesthetic experience,like tasting a vintage wine or admiring a painting. – Andrea Illy • Espresso is a miracle of chemistry in a cup. – Andrea Illy • Espresso is to Italy, what champagne is to France. – Charles Maurice de Talleyrand

• Good communication is just as stimulating as black coffee, and just as hard to sleep after. – Anne Morrow Lindbergh • Having acquired an espresso machine as good as a solid e-61 and a very good grinder, your incremental dollars will be best spent on either buying truly badass coffee, or setting up a roasting setup yourself that with lots of effort will allow you to produce high end roasted coffee. – Ken Fox • I bought an espresso maker and coffee maker and make them myself every day. – Utada Hikaru • I do, but I don’t like doing that. I would do it out of hate or anger. I would do it because some- one was pushing my buttons, but really I don’t want to break my back in some European city while everyone else is drinking espresso. I only do it because someone refused to pay for the shipping, or something like that. I don’t want to let a whole city of people down. – Josh Smith • I get energy from meditation practice and from eating healthy fresh food, only one cup of espresso in the morning, and not drinking too much. – Richard Simmons • I got hooked on espresso when I visited Italy at 18, but these days I prefer a ‘flat white.’ It’s like a small latte with less milk – they’re popular in Australia. – Hugh Jackman • I know there are other writers who sit down religiously every morning, they take their espresso, they put a clean sheet of paper there and they sit looking at that paper until they’ve finished or covered at least a number of those pages. No, I’m not like that. I have to be ready. It has to gestate it for quite a while and then it’s ready to burst forth. – Wole Soyinka • I like the Valentino store in Rome.Because in Rome when I’d be riding my bike, that store is right next to the Spanish Steps, and it gets so crowded there, so I could sometimes duck into the Valentino store and go up to the top floor and have a little espresso and just relax and take it easy. – Owen Wilson • I love coffee. I love a midday espresso on set, just for the energy. – Carrie Brownstein • I probably have about four or five cups of coffee a day. I make myself an espresso macchiato when I wake, which is a shot of espresso and just a dollop of steamed milk. Then, if I’m going to do some work at home, I would make myself a French press. It’s the best way to make conventional coffee. – Howard Schultz • I used to have two double espressos a day. I gave that up, had headaches for five days but now I’m feeling great. – Hugo Weaving • I usually get up not before 9. I have a huge library – I’m a big fan of Scandinavian crime fiction – so I’ll usually take a book and go off to one of my favorite bistros for a cappuccino or espresso or maybe I’ll have some lovely smoked salmon for breakfast. – Anthony Geary • If this is coffee, please bring me some tea; but if this is tea, please bring me some coffee. – Abraham Lincoln • If you’re a Kanye West fan, you’re not a fan of me, you’re a fan of yourself. You will believe in yourself. I’m just the espresso. – Kanye West • It was her first book, an indigo cover with a silver moonflower, an art nouveau flower, I traced my finger along the silver line like smoke, whiplash curves. … I touched the pages her hands touched, I pressed them to my lips, the soft thick old paper, yellow now, fragile as skin. I stuck my nose between the bindings and smelled all the readings she had given, the smell of unfiltered cigarettes and the espresso machine, beaches and incense and whispered words in the night. I could hear her voice rising from the pages. The cover curled outward like sails. – Janet Fitch • Leo: “So…giants who can throw mountains. Friendly wolves that will eat us if we show weakness. Evil espresso drinks. Gotcha. Maybe this isn’t the best time to bring up my psycho babysitter.” Piper: “Is that another joke? – Rick Riordan • Now-what’s our game plan?” Coach Hedge belched. He’d already had three espressos and a plate of doughnuts, along with two napkins and another flower from the vase on the table. He would’ve eaten the silverware, except Piper had slapped his hand. “Climb the mountain,” Hedge said. “Kill everything except Piper’s dad. Leave.” “Thank you General Eisenhower,” Jason grumbles. – Rick Riordan • Once I had a potentially heart attack-inducing eight double espressos in one day. I think my assistant secretly swaps my coffees for decaf as she doesn’t want me to die of caffeine overdose. – Steven Soderbergh • Sleep is critical to me… at least eight or nine hours a night. I start to slow down my body and my mind at least 30 minutes before I get into bed. I don’t watch any disturbing or invigorating TV at night. I also get energy from meditation practice and from eating healthy fresh food, only one cup of espresso in the morning, and not drinking too much. – Jane Fonda • Starving to be skinny isn’t my thing. When I don’t eat, it affects my mood! On-set, I fuel up with small meals and I’m always grabbing high-protein snacks, like almonds. Chai lattes with espresso also keep me going. – Nina Dobrev • The magic of espresso is that it’s only made with 50 beans. – Andrea Illy • The quintessential expression of coffee is espresso. – Ernesto Illy • The voodoo priest and all his powders were as nothing compared to espresso, cappuccino, and mocha, which are stronger than all the religions of the world combined, and perhaps stronger than the human soul itself. – Mark Helprin • Their offense is shakier than Katherine Hepburn after an all-night espresso bender at Starbucks. – Dennis Miller • There are certain aspects of acting that I don’t like. I’m not a person who loves being on set. I mean, I know people that have their espresso machines in their trailers and they like being in there and they put pictures on walls. But I don’t like it. I don’t like sitting around. – Joaquin Phoenix • To espresso or to latte, that is the question…whether ’tis tastier on the palate to choose white mocha over plain…or to take a cup to go. Or a mug to stay, or extra cream, or have nothing, and by opposing the endless choice, end one’s heartache. – Jasper Fforde • To me, every kitchen appliance is useful and nothing’s overrated. When I look at my little espresso machine, I don’t see coffee. I see a steaming valve as an opportunity to make amazing creme brulee. – Grant Achatz • Until now, I’ve been a kind of binge-writer – I’ll carve out five or six hours on a weekend day and make a large container of espresso and just bang out a lot of words. – Lev Grossman • Waitress!” Hedge called. “Six double espressos, and whatever these guys want. Put it on the girl’s tab. – Rick Riordan • We are too often double espresso followers of a decaf Sovereign. – John Ortberg • What I don’t like is breakfast in the morning. I have a double-espresso cappuccino, but no food. – Wolfgang Puck • What’s it like to be a baby? It’s like being in love in Paris for the first time after you’ve had three double espressos. – Alison Gopnik • When I first discovered in the early 1980s the Italian espresso bars in my trip to Italy, the vision was to re-create that for America – a third place that had not existed before. Starbucks re-created that in America in our own image; a place to go other than home or work. We also created an industry that did not exist: specialty coffee. – Howard Schultz • When somebody is a little bit wrong – say, when a waited puts nonfat milk in your espresso macchiato, instead of lowfat milk – it is often quite easy to explain to them how and why they are wrong. But if somebody is surprisingly wrong – say, when a waiter bites your nose instead of taking your order – you can often be so surprised that you are unable to say anything at all. Paralyzed by how wrong the waiter is, your moth would hang slightly open and your eyes would blink over and over, but you would be unable to say a word. – Daniel Handler

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'a', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_a').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_a img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

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