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libidomechanica · 8 days ago

Text

Untitled (“Er its sting”)

A sonnet sequence

’Er its sting! Which we’ll night, and there we can guess of visionary seas! Than ever seemlihed gave uttered from the bedroom with tilt and speak he tries their leave, about the time shall stoop; let crutches their rifles, thou seest it for myself upon this night, we will drip and the praise of rhyme, or form shaped like Christmas solecisms, seven-headed monster, there’ll be spice. What is every humours fly or creeds that manners had she says, Ours is past midnight to my cloister-wall.

That dances with mortals here and waves best month: so, boy, you’re hanged … There is unjust? Now, who could observed stones i’ th’ streets and care empty fears; for yours I am, now reign thy thou afore, whereto thou are youngest’s boat and when mine arm, most men like this the narrow seas! While power in Thee vain are the legs and find the brave Tartar, as great Sirs give salutation to keep them with the time exchanges, but then new maim’d to be and Thou were true,—last war, more will come.

Will trespass down his steed him to his on your beauties, they never trod before. And, slowly as the summer too,—with other figure and gone to aggravate thy store; then separately married men, but her wings, methinks that guy with my God. I lean upon a child crying at night knows why nothing between the conquest, and with them, the wandered at their roots, accessible not the hollies blend, was stealing kisse. An active her In such delight think, and arms, look’d behind.

Prone to ask them if there is proof that kiss her empty as you missed us much. I thee bent, nor red nor white when we will once a monk! They stung their hearers of autumn for you: and split a Hair, drove Penmen, as though done within her checked, taught, if lowliness is to be despair under the boys no longer like old sweats, there was Parolles, to keepe vs wake, the voice? As sure to cost youth, beneath that vnkindly driven to thee. How she pays, in a plane of movement. And thou in sleepe art dead? Each streets, beneath dark pillars and the charge to stands with speech a full but love to another missing starres from them wich in the mazie thick sought; with aching here began the very Siria of the bright pieces.

I rather that rolls by the first cut. And two hours late and thick sought! But thee as a precious drops, that fill thy breast doth inuite some little ones their solace brings serve on horsemanship aduaunce, Towne for spite but in this or t’other figured it will hold ye this test—thy body at it a second time with such a gullet should he wed along, unknown; but a specimen of every part a pointer ranges, let us hear no sound, whych Adam lost. In trammels of you!

Oh now I have so eased to be reckon up their confound, shepheard sittes not, follow whither them. To bear the gray beginning in thine aspyring wide, between two men who speak, and cannon’s roar: but in the same way. Best may be Punic the antiquarians who cause bold who really loved philosophy’s aye-babbling sprites or sprites did make a dent forward violet by a mossy cave, where as thou content vs in their seeming earth and was determin’d to where three years; yet not his own: the teeming earth to Geb and Nut, Isis and Outs, albeit all come where is a good, and maidenhood, all else was like a Messias Life into the Abbey- ruin in the spirit, not a summer song.

In early they should sing you wouldst thou divineness white hands I blest the gate, the late heat spread wide pinion bed, too well as a man in all that calm patrician polished metal, a lethal musket shot, a caravel staving its winter commeth timely, nothing, as must not Percie howe the roughest heart as kind of cunning light hangs on the seasons were left me forth. One night, I find how heauinesse in both sides I doe take my blood and woes began to run, for the earth.

It is what wants me here and paine. Shone, sir, creates and heavenly dews that beach with gore: the Sea’s self but rightly to love the shepheards God perdie God was his back. Not open, but t is fit that some who has wrought; your looks be the same; when, after midnight—which oft divides warrior in the ball where began to the full-cavern’d earth crumble fragments warp us of the words awoke the guests, and here and break. His eyes wobble as thou art? Thus far they were hallucination?

No less for the cellar. And the long day; and yet but chaste woman who expended at me; He began to run, for them. Of all love her forth the sort would leade me daub away. I’d winds of heart suggests a fact—and t is not fit mark of tears, the time must Court, and lament: many a benison. Going on his summer were comes down to the valleys, half in lights before to bear take care of ease: the moor, held out unto the long night, vision straining, t will be.

And wett your belles and then he though in the brink of love’s anger like the city won while the fire was Ralph a page or vessel strong, and studied the world thou speak the thief, and keep in, when the fall on the tie of more, as the rain last extreme, and Fortunes, and with brede strength’s abundance weakens his own at times of nature of the truth slip. Every day like the thirst to meet no more, or smite rarely, when I and the winds of dawn that doth learn the sky the lily I condemn?

And watch, would awakes—and, stranger, left bare; her bosom; and pure and rigged withouten dream upon them, or like an idle word that window. With surprise, fixed on his arms and aristocratic in this may be Boaz, and I will proceed, yet sincere crying—sheikh, I languish’d to be blames with thee as a pilgrim wilderness they are, carelesse youth and Passion far above, over thou must be wooed and religious awe. Grow old man was inspired: inspirers!

A kind of meetness: Taking up inside, from the Stone of Thine! But must be carried by the steaming rills we traverse more how did stir about the whole world enough, but all that, iste perfect the cap; in facts, stopp’d for birth; therefore says she not with daintye Daysies dight, and I, that ruled Albion’s kingdoms wide:-come hither, lady fair, and heaven groans, of chaff, although love and in Sommer shade he had carv’d, and the lilies and therefore doves will say no. Still closer, that would euer laste.

A vengeful canker eat him with slaughters of each at a country- tone. I drew them all down into the last: a peaceful citadel, and sweet woman! To new-found made: so, better mind;—’God save thou, fair Albany. But when the feather’d hand, and budding others they stood silent are going; but may they cricketed; the progress through watery pinion’d multitude of what we are after the sensual ear, but, more Yankees that endure; and said, in a blissful swoon.

But you, but, by God! Have tried men, but her Mind. Hero of the apple, sends the good-morrow she is nam’d, neede not yet, without which an alabaster fountaine, where the Shell, but moderately, and frantic- mad with sand. So Cymon was immovable; until is answer Ribas’ summoned to spare what entered leewardings, samite sheets into bed where are too has been seized fast, as if’t ad been reform, peace, propound, whereto long we gaze upon such a height of dread.

The saint or two—what’s to bene euery where she should never mind: the flat, wet gold or should appear’d— the gods know what her grieuous ynne doth the stars that beach we court and kind, still forgiven, may reach—tho’ lost on earth, still to be thoughtlessly as hurls the plasma, listening valleys hear; all out, thus for the purchased choice with my calm white or keys of the windows of the Keyes be hel-driu’n from the stiffness of dross; with good cause thou die from end to be terrific: for checked, taught he, Why am I not the restless Titan on the night. Beneath sealed in the right; in both seem’d my foes, that men or gods are privileged alone, that she, deare Shee, might honest fame, than flesh and the lily truth that you anywhere; for thee.

But, as though I never speak to your millennium, you hardly different minds out. Their force were there in slumber dead,—and sixteen bayonets pierce her face to me love, my hand, when he talk of college, only truth’s own captive gain’d him from the first thing for breast, why passive is the earth my Emma lay; and setting sailors tried, each more, Sempronius—don’t deserve the fiercely like greeting-card verse to wake! Surpass for you to foreseen prevent: to languish’d them not aroynt!

Of loue and then replied, You’re right arm of his delicious seeming trees, and calumets, claymore anxious for the son’s rule now reduced, as Spagnoletto tainted his plump white clouds as thicket? And thou shalt! Agape, he observe what befell ye: cupid and die for thy hand, found strangers wrought fit wordes to paint out my vnrest, as I Undying Life, have it a thing of you desire, a kindred pain, cold, in the dictator strutting and luminous pastime war is.

My man, who knew we wouldn’t be kissing cymbals made so faire to begin with wrong; an active her that we have made of Wolues to rest by cool Eurotas they sang, or she wants him to discharge to shield. Whether it was to be the beautiful woman sits radiant faces and said had a peach: he turn’d once more to be call’d for bloud, now fainter, since great matters took in the splendour which the day. I sung and of Juan, like this bright staves of spice and how heauinesse in the day.

A Frisbee, like a chuckle of war and how about the currents their landing the field, and, horror! And whisper one where to stop. Now will sup free, and leaps like an egg in a way you’d wonder, so t is time, since you my nudist the maidenhead? To bitter sea. And in the goblin bee that drinks and shouting Hál! And wherefore from my face: watchet the free-born Andalusian, could rouse from Candia they rise again—At this deaf moonlight lone how she would euer laste.

Your own captive from my native air—let me have now had sketch in the sun is gone on every same column; date, Falmouth. A tale of his unpolished metal, a lethal musket shot, a caravel son or Daughter, and she toils a song to give a rose, a ruby, who complexities of a street; each side, we’re made me blind! Hath left me for love allowed to climb the deep Atlantic boring cry: every friendships, the sex a large cost, having breathing: a cleft off the sequel of thee, here will drip and blue, stars, in this sad sight, though a generous draft, conceded as a gift, at which he brought seem’d my flame was spoil’d; she made them to the winds and petalled who quake to show the foaming from an urn.

Amidst such determine To give birth and Pasimond his thanks. In Iphigene to wake! In the sky. The soldiers, who spared amends. Though the time did with thee, calling to a feast with the thin reeds of this body thus all hush and glimmer’d as is a bulky volumes don’t own anyone whole their lives began to smother the buoyant life with the saints and wanne, so high to kill. And rally backs, the kiss my mother day. By which he wayle hys Woes, and fight like fiends for pay.

We cannot well for the Nightingale shall we say, but with a desire, close round thy fingers; pour thy soft cheek reclin’d: for by one, my boiling spring, like man’s vain and outs of verb and no great occasions: not a lily from her silver wings, methinks I see my blisse. But when all his prest: how far can those whose intent hath been done, they mounted on panthers’ seeing Two who draw one Breath and took his way, who dares nothing less reverie, perchance, and, thought their pace to frozen purity of air; let the pleasure of the place, whose intense when what the teeth gleam like the fisherman swore he had not fear’d the rest haunts, why left So I and the Art of Happiness;—but Juan never live and new: fearless sneers.

Dear, did wed myself disgrace: knowing your slender hand; this we have beneath the thought it would depart; fixed as a pile of that Hobbinoll, I bless an impious, that release. How old apace, least nine tenths of ground one whole ranks: however, t is a partial faces going. By the ball could recollective wisdom’s ways; also a foresters—as day awoke, the found it and faces all the martyrs awed, as if it means to learn delight to rouse: such from my Head!

And bent by power, see now loud, nor would euer last. As if all hear the Moslem orphan went in bright entice this excess, a priests invoke the father checked, taught; we are shadow: now I see the great and dropt a fairy parachute and polish’d the long with his fear is civilities which longer nurse thee? Even then, even in a Sea of yce: your eyes match me: we all such efforts fail. Against the lilies, bold Lysimachus, who had fallen, not knowing India of the South, cap and blindly give to such a jocund while troops of dew exhal’d to this close my wandring woodland Hyacinthus could make her to rejoice we are these strangers into a great and glancing the water-lily bud! Land!

And here whelming vintage down in the very cannon peal, o’ercame the only one thing but a moral taught by that play! What the restless Titan hiccups in his conquered plates from my love’s anger line;— but not the maid that she is made some stern hill but hides and they thinking: last, she open’d the Past! Of earth’s modest tresses, but more the mystic wind with chosen ones; we’ll enjoy tonight. You have ever to quit this dance no more on your bower that warmed life’s flashing face?

It is free; so, when he beheld the long denied me with reasons four,—green-kyrtled Spring adieu. Is summer’s as a fever, long expects us in the advantages: and that on either way. Fierce Pasimond betrayed are everyone else’s credit her till I for fear of Heaven to read: the first, our Cot, our liberty. Creation’s blithe and how her turn’d back a bachelor now I see the grass. Who takes a lady sweet Stella is not the health, from behind.

Why do these: we climb’d to waft here it seems to faithless and double post and snow upon me I would be lynched in the nest, some revolves, creates that shine that thou ask’d whither Thy beams, so reverence bereaue, all as tails. She in the chance; others said did make out silvery, when we purge, even so, being carried by the raging seas: the great; but we, unworthier, told of college and ever, never the devilish doctrine of Sleep, and damning the song of the grassye ground.

The last line of you and night: to the pole; in the human break and any retrospection knows the Root he grew from her head, or he had they haue behote him Hate. Of gold: and that armed her own fancies fall they are going. Fast next Friday! Women in baby clothes will I sing to constant in the very Siria of these ladies unseen rise—so from thee, fair maides, at once from nigh and true’ varying to me love, so well as tails. Scrawled them warm, insisting on that peculiar grace of your beautiful was a difficult in pure elysium. And when matter’d among the Throne of Beauty’s storm- trouble like a wisp: and his want to take the stone to the sever’d head, overhead rushes waking!

Break, break, breaks the might pieces with childe to stop the hellish hound did make an ignis fatuus; ’ or as rhymes. To make him was the narrow sped to men in masquerade, as many doubts, though upborne with the fruits of twilight where some use. For then the flat, wet gold or silver- set; about the devil would fix, longing eyes are in their clay for life was the star of every word against wrecks; and thews,—johnson join’d by no quite correct, without which his sight, what survives is going.

And in dispute from Plutoes balefull brown length, with what an honour plays;—boats wheel, that turns up through a long room banging at the pale new moon sad Zephyrus! To Long John Nebel arguing from Shírín the Sculptor’s Cup he poisonous wave and purge the old school boys and so life changes, and what therefore we must Court, and mark her end! With one little torrent in little space for signal that twenty? Could you a tale of one band has joined legs and by the ditch again.

But all misfortune’s tides, with an apology ok, I’m sorry, you have been at distance, see them three-fold? He stops under stress? Its ugliness and she was a noble heart, safe-left, shall not lift them, or lie here he stood, nor stand but go! For trust me, Lucia, this alone, among the un-apple. No matter, seeing, flashing eyes redemption spent, my songs did lere. Housewives talk in vain the vaulted roof rebound, i, in the spring confines of white skin: with me.

Their two selves could do! Somewhat in the spot, as upon this life was old Sir Ralph’s at Ascalon: a good or ill betides mortal world wants to pretence—for yet to company’s a chess-board—there also were seven stayed steps: for thing! With Hannibal, and wishes—did we have done with thy beautiful was a drink out thondring disdained, he reach to its right, behold her panting side of his Wit would run no more delightful due, robbed to give the massive braine beginning.

And become their shoes did thither had a mother strange, be absent from thee by Juno’s smile he is full of the wonder what I would flow some fresh air. At this the random gales forsake, hung half behind, and cheerfulnesse, made game. I nor my fellow, well as eyes did I chide: sweet a soft floats them to the nuptial day, prepared, they gave your own high buildings in order’d it, amidst thou still speak the throne, and save;—a mixture is the world in mock heroics strangement, hark!

Just like a madhouse that hour of the morning’s prime— because I’ve lost them of reasonable man, wildered at them, or like the hartlesse hare, til shee were painting of the unregenerate mind; so when long as they seek, nor Jove, thy truth I do believe them gold, and once grown their turn around it spent his skill didst the best months in balls and put thy golden pines, the Rust Belt mode—work hard and hair. But Judas— about Judas, the only seemed to get lost in fayre Elisa one of Thine! Her long booming into girls, with golden hair’d; and whifts of stick nailed crosswise, or, what’s best, a bell to children are so much for Nature, laughing; and love in grain veneered with his debut, which settles all over us.

In her wane. Never bear unless could deceive his way to—where ever to other until their own Joys, and holden scorners, from rear to dismiss her empty as you could make the regiment, thou, fair Armida, my joy and men and arms. Teaching wonder, of Phillis, has met wi’ the morning sun on snow, deceiu’d the pine, a patron. Alone, so deem’d not by art. Not so free; she seems to faithless to pray for Pardon. Thy mossy cave, wherever he may sportive land!

Resolved he said, king of the passed in my tongue could divide no spoil; serene, not sullen surges and voide of truth; and, gentle reader! Good company: I gazed-and gave me last, answered not tread if lowliness is not frighted alabaster fountain, love-distracted looked age and entire as that oft myself with the blade of events is always, and I’ll despair makes upon a calm sea drifting: and me, they will never wi’ her can compare, whaever has to pay for One whom having none, nor pretended to his robbery had annex’d thy base, no longer line;—but not my paper, show of. I woke besides,—adagios of islands which how to smile, pleasing her for life indeed the choicest wing!

Oh, you are you can pass the approached; if force should, thought our Cuddies name is Guidi—he’ll not go to bed and cozenage; and there is no lightnings of the unbetrayable reply: yon cloud that gently stroking his bell-mouth’d goblet makes bread the last fall about the stiletto pierced them forget to be superior grace: her brother. Song; I chirped, cheeped, trilled albatross’s white immutability no streams ’stead of their return. Somewhere do you hear, All here.

Old Tartar, as great Prince at silver. Soul and bounding any Sorrow, come into her faced both Subjects to destroyes, but today is my days should his lady smile—her look’d round it and the tongue of doom, this rage was the Florentines, pissing person I love the stairs, she has left me in earth, and Lilia first: the vacancies bough by autumn, a select and numerous issue blest. Oh, had I with cunning in they him called, which erst from his bosom thro’ all time?

Culture and hot his eyes did I frame my feeding and happy than betides mortals after marriage press’d his manner nor common day; free-voic’d brothers who never makes me write, and a small mine Oten reede, whether in one to aggravate thy bower’s sanctified in stone! See, the world’s coarse thumb and finite consanguinary way good—then another mine! Then he takes the Fire of Jealous Frenzy caught upon it, and honey-dropping to form the jolly Satyrs!

—Thou, to whom he spoke not, rapt in lead, o why shoulders can you see; it hangs still for that first of Druids was a man, saints—a laugh, a cry, the Sea’s self- love, to the cloudes han all the Desperate Father has met wi’ the scanty but right-well thresh’d eagerly—no wonderful his fear is civilisation! To lure—Endymion, ’tis past, having an hour in each as not to look up but I would; but, being bitten by and bye The Shah of Yúnan, as his natural sympathy, universal culture and groans, and through the lid. Is so deeply known to let this priest for his darling helped to man, propped in a sweate, that when there was she, to keep him company! Take rest, and epic, if plain truth and air!

Nor Fortune lately ships sent upon it, and set thing: think it would study the taxes, and Off’rings made: and cream of flickering forward, puts out in the trees were whole length and try to add his own, death for so hot the way waters down. I dream upon the hidden faces to know when Lucy ceased these obstinate to keep here; nor much declared as the songs. A Foot for me, and night, would under stress of vision straining; at other acts attack’d by the intermission.

To rise from nigh and trace its own good pleasure pass; within us and dancing princes, I, nor can integrity our ends you Phant’sies place me half so ill, thou doest proceed in the Lyons housewives do for a much left the reach of music: for time befalls. Long expected willes entice to do. All very accurate, you missed was dropped, and laid it barefaced at the deep sorrow, heart-honored Maid! Love means boded to gentle squeezed himself with that lily hand.

A conquer, went and drink. If yet their bodies,—That’s the best behind his man saying-that when withstood the nation, or the corners, from time that hath been three or too cleared, the Rhodian friend is the east could boast a longer failed—if we drop like all of the blue of health perpetrates of the best instrument. I plotted traine, and grieve; But the taking into the clematis. Bricks through thin and such discourse in a look, or cast away would take the studding others said did make.

The column also suits my rhymes. Wandered and lantern—for thee. However thinges, the vesper’s early purchased choice their grim career of carnage, when we court and polish’d breed sweet breathless arm; time and meanwhile that the wrong! Since age is come in the vulgar mass called poetic diction, and Sommer shade from slope through the window my body shall never them. Let me, ah lette me in your head, which those hands bear, here, who plead; ’tis force, no fraud robd thee or sprited gastlinesse.

Had been blesse thy courage quails and sing you would strives in clubs, of art. And widening round, a sleeping waves in glee: a poet called token or promise always did as these shapings of the individually wrapped in a cloud, while both sere and perhaps was there was thy cradle; hither I prize might be summer or Winter from thy heart as sound stone tables everywhere—methinks that has been seized the pavement lay carved so elaborately earn; for which farther hold, then we come from the intense when all chaos was, beforehand. From strife, shouldst be one of Separation, the drill but from whence they’d have no self- passions from a sip of hem was gone and the sprinkled brow, and shame and frosty feet, a sweep of days!

Was what shall light thou feed on Death, that men unborn shall be it ill.— A human kind, they sufferings pay who chucks it all! Each with losse reward, but half; trust beyond the Father hath been seized up without knowing I cannot go to bedew these enclaspëd hands bear: her own. The royal children! Where shall well followed to climb the deadly maw, in one selfe applyed. Many thousand cold, and voide of sprited gastlinesse. Slope to Vivian all that we found; that blowes the skies.

But still yearns for rest; would understand how dying the millions slain by some Mussulmans, who were only cause a caytiue corage to stand disconsolate at the way one long year set, five other. Its ugliness is a miracle of noble pair,—all very accurate, you might take a battle next, what cannot find, with fennel green, or where everyone else’s credit you: zooks, sir, creates and his soul that I lived? At shrink from my love is a lady’s heart I’ll tell.

Now she is unto that she is tall and past are clouds, that folly, thoughts to grownde did pass and open fields, and some hundred cannot spend revenge in it: in that doth cover the mind and brought—a Boy—Who, who away would build far off from my heart beat her, and waves rear more sad, but no dice;—save in finishing, and after than hounds—she hath decided to gild the cliffs of Rhodes in au’ and Upharsin, ’ which sleep can not abate. Said Cymon, overjoyed: Do thou wilt say the fair so was of corn such colours that did canopy the hand, friends from thee by Juno’s smiled to see me write of some more of Pasimond is the lust of nothing—the gods of your breath, as thine: to-morrow I will hold me up and strange.

Who saith A whole spirit culls unfaded amaranth, when invite the ill, the uncertain leaf flutter of crimson holly-hoaks, among six boys, and both black for the Throne of the day, and yet I love, good at all it’s a fire, who can fight renewed; their play, and by the monk. The new wine. With good, plain, old, temperate foe, which I could feel why time and just escaped or no, lies hid in darkness equal emulation free: such I might have commands the jocund race; for thy?

Showing they sat around, she took, to set my dull and glittering Ismail’s storm to softer ripples, wan with answering horses’ backs, and then five, on earth and we in our own selues to bene ytost: thy louely layes here between us both and sinews bent to draw them all the flattery convey, and you’ll say: but we went, anxious found, whych Adam lost. You know that vanish’d far away, they with nerve and something of the daisies rosy. Has my own breast amidst our mad minstrelsy! Thy beams, but from dim rich skies: nor that, that I thus violate the door. From Plutoes balefull brown lass, who lookest with the will stay: and there might disapproved, vast expect, as one wide world, as when men run away.

Ourselves, was her fears in their career, like some might poetess, I would not help but kiss,—even the woods, to wayle hys Woes, and senates, and a child, these birds were crying and glancing, soothing, all like Paradise: wheels may hiss hence, this prest: how fair and gone to woo her. For every sin contrived to get to be not grieved, I did not much to please my selfe, or else to die that hung from a Corner of the face hint, that thou still find their lost mortals who their gifts should not bite.

Within and daffodils; besides the ravishers were in October, the door. Within the sward of a monk! Past cure I adore. Your rival Pasimond pursues your merry Damsels! And yet hast thou know thy perfumes by the lounged, like some revolving door? Quick answer, glittering. Yon knot of my native land! At first cut. As twilight blue halo of flies my loving the unbetrayable repose— still on paper I remember the brooks utter a gorgon wrath.

The vessel strong in the puddle. And such wit impart as sacred things I do, because all are gone and purge the great gods, and feared his noble guests: their and honey, having and cast a glance on the wardrobe which I could observed star, and gave you not afterward everything that they gave you can make the tongue. That is he but a buzzing by degree, but Strongbow’s phraseology when the paralytic’s wife who takes her love the plasma, listening to row them three A.

Then if he had the maiden Aunt. Culture and then, though the glowing, his Arrow went after that heart, you looked through windows of forty were again, come hand of meetness: Taking up inside of all be true colours for thee. The entirely beauty save young Semele such treasure, conveys it in a man no doubt, I’ve felt dawn pushing over: you’ve seen and God made us breathe despatch; and the frame my origin with thine own love’s strength, withouten leagues hung in and desolate. Set me from might I from my Julia threw up the brimming in the sparkled into air, warm as a Bow to Shooting—from the dewy forests dreams are double day revealed, while Juan in the developed brute; so well a day!

So witlesse flames will serve the path, stifling Lilias—played charades and the time did Matthew stopped. Nor long bright and blinded guest waiting that heart gazing eye, remember’d, still air is Music slumber of counsellors, ’ as Solomon has said, fifteen stone! She made of love by fancie feede hearken how I faint any one, and from his beard, then love was more beauty without disguise of care: what said smiling blushing shame, when Juan replied: At least night knows how, a year. It: freedom.

Midst many rocks we guard the cold dews among six boys, head understand. Mortal, guilty without resisted like Nero, o’er a burning for a soul its best, a bell in with all sorts of France. Whom France and Pride, who now commanded by a tedious for this orphan went with more of their longing to bury one hour may compete in much longer trouble you? I’m not OEdipus, and those whose charming us. The wept, he sobb’d, he call’d to something of the Corner-house!

And takes a lady smile—“O Dis! Ever like as many doubts, thou know when all his corps were born, a good deal of her hand-twigs, staircases, hallways—perhaps we have no reasons were in one that—loved somewhere between his own, death he desire, without those ancient bugaboo followed dost tease us out of that silent spaces of a cup, the fifth, who, being in loops like a nest was vowel-keen and tranquillity. Alas, I must be, in lost youth, and adore.

Was rung by degree, thou art here, here the Slap-dash regiment, so well? Already were halfe with wit, stor’d without malice: if he must be, in lost youth, I found him over, pledge vastly now I could know, an Amethyst remember being badly it got so much; if only dry instructor, Love, at one times. And are here he was as thou gynst to see, being had, to the forky light from the head of the prey their city soon, not reserve the same clime within our queen.

Where was not marvellous that blossoms the most difficult to stoop and shook upon a mossy hill, invisible above their souls, like fat, breathing-space. Intention in a nook apart, it barred the feather’d hand, from it preached its coursers also suits his friends, by her celestial face, the proper, or I’m caught thy famine fat with the young, I’ll love, thought it good since it is just meant to give way. Up the main account for his bed thy crags, O Seasons; not Eternities!

Came to ill that Fate avenges arms Shirúeh with lances from the interview annul a wanton country summer all the world, that I do, whose strangely: but when the Field, salámán bent his secret of those murderers hung by dinner; and when we see I though in my youth should form a length not them of reasoning wind and kept their full-veined ears, nostrils bloody diuretic. So, take an egg, every day he plants; each bending, dear Endymion heard the East, above an houre since; yet therefore with his corps: perceived the general, awful yawn which cut off in vain to get itself.—As her hearts after the loss, and when we court and kindled at her husbands’ sides warrior lady, said Peona, we are here!

Some odd angle for word acknowledge aught I could have sense enough to winne renowne, or hurtful beastes to creepe; since age is come, that Boon lived along, it will believe, thou of love. We were heard to goe: then wild insanity of carnage, but now of all though you catch cold in shadows on my breast is gentleman procession, nor bate abate their earliest of the bench behind. Has my own hearts her sometimes, republics, revolutions, molten thee, Melancholy!

Says Hotspur, long expect, as one whenever this orphan went in a dungeon was a library, and shades, changes into basins, where pale new moon sad Zephyrus! Nor did speed hinder conversazione; the spoke, part banter, patting Lilias in the stars black and fire, the festal board, lamp’s flashing she combs her golden eve? He lovely idleness, nor evening breast. Which the sky with all the white. Whose charme. Like the seede, that shall a glimmering. And oaks full of rubies.

Upon he bade me by arte more noble hearts abhor—in cities, as stiff as beeswax, his legs swollen and hold cheap the stone—sometimes discover where Loue is change restor’d, though it isn’t decorous; the showery glance apace. And after the fort, a ship well met—flower Lilia. Unto throe in the bed appears and undetained, then would shame hold of the woodbine, its death as doth repenting day; love taught by specious drops, that flows the monstrate: he lover sure!

Hold those who would have been for you! And that answered not the honey seeping shame, and pluck you a tear: but if we can; knat, rail, and cursed he whose sad faced unto the truth so foul a lie! Changes, but in my clasp, never will sail before with missile, would awake night almost as much the rest wise, wealthy, without one should say whatever Izaak Walton sings with hoary heares. Steep-up spout where he was crammed watch the chaunting thy heauy mould my Head! In the Desperate mind.

Elsewhere, and its mechanics clear, and weal, will pype and He shall my best ivory sphere, that any thing forward, like a fine young, although upborne with content. The gentle shepheards swayne, which in the sloping like the shoes worn as thunder-clap To give the sun, whereon the monsoon her steady breathe, the river go all in armour, of the burden heat, the library, a place your cold presence. Who was a—duke, Ay, every lightes, the gift was to amuse; but Strongbow was done.

Then they fight, to make chaffe shouldst thou love me, sweet with Time and gradually wrapped candies and drove he gained gloves—wheezed and to you again, except by me though! Thou kenst not quit her fates all respects may compete in much left me in hand replied: why such a golden as the sea no more! Count the house; but point I cite is, that in my hearts are most to winne, wherever heart. If thou mayst always open halfway through the same clime old Erse or kick him for his steed a little ways.

And in battles to brush about thy resolve the little space made for the slight have happen’d was he sat outside them find others are fills, and teaches one ten in the fetid wombs of bad; all I could not eat this spirit brought—a Boy— Who, who away with me, as halfe with red with her Son in his station in winter-liuerie, both convinced that shape when there in a rage. Thing when it swears the cap; in fact, the mere comfort is, she oft hath been stirr’d up and up, to be a Jew.

The middle-aged to serves its round his veins thou gynst to shield to snatch when I breathe? Deeper sunk by floundering in melody, and in haste, haste descended from being empty fears. If I love their horses who finds sympathy, universes made: our times, a savage sort wouldst thou mayest heavens, and left to draw you out that one times. How dear I have been, once only: we lodged in their seeming sadness to him. Commands the tombs of her foes with a shrine of any thing!

The light enough away the library, and lands to his host, with tares, alone, to put up a blind eyes match me at my fault if you will, in dale, or in thy might be chirurgeons who can know. Future way to know how they came the pond’s edge where no language; and fall have a tongue will come where nought seem’d charming now you have staggered weed gaily digging and darkness equal fires the earliest twinkle on my breasts. The harpies, rush of every same column; date, Falmouth.

Close thy love was more than was, distress Bride the threshold one hope inside of sprited gastlinesse. I know as spectrum of the hope of grass; I feel loving the valley, down his spheres, escaping with the streets: since we see thy brands back, and tree, by Sences priviledge, and that, that in hand with good action, and when she says tomorrow morn seems to perch dovelike in the rest of the Long Island Expressway. That on either, lady fair, and bye The Shah and so for thee.

The fool enlighten them eternal chemistries vary the fair. Where, but mostly my antipodes; but doubt? But now as I pleased to be what they sat, had ever there: not the hovel is, much into the breast doth melt for thee, Achilles, sounds of blossom of the deer from slope to get married me that roams Siberia’s wild has Spain had held dear; but as ill forgive me force, and look too, into human loves a man, Dearest, ere we all such scenes—though the glow-worm light?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #205 texts #sonnet sequence

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nebulousbookshelf · 2 years ago

Text

real, actual footage of me finishing this fic:

BAI THIS IS SO CUTE AND SEXY WHAT THE HELL??? you're so good at this I'm losing my whole mind

i swear your fics are at least 40% responsible for Seonghwa being in my bias line because this shit???

i'm weak 🥹

SEONGHWA BEST BOYFRIEND. take me on Lego store and Star Wars dates 🥰 you always write him so sweet but THEN

this should be illegal. no one should be allowed to be this sweet AND this sexy!!!! and it's such a good parallel of his duality between the Seonghwa we see on stage vs the one we see in variety content.

the introspection was so heart wrenching and sweet and set the mood for maybe a little bit of angst and seriousness with the actual poly conversation and then

Jung Wooyoung, you absolute fucking menace. really, i don't know why i expected anything else?? feels very on brand for the resident problem child, and it only gets worse better??

the fear that gripped my heart on behalf of Hwa was REAL. Woo has his Barbies. he will make them kiss. he's their #1 shipper, president of the readerhwa fan club, and it's just so perfect 😭 Wooyoung, wingman extraordinaire

Hwa, darling, he just kissed you. please explain your thought process?? 💀

this exchange cracked me up, it feels so unbelievably in character for these two. i would love to see more from you with these two if the inspiration strikes because between that and this:

the banter would be unreal, and could lead to some fun sexy times for reader, methinks,,,,

they're all just so good for each other 😭 my partner described my interactions with other partners as being a "natural triad", and that feels very much like what's happening here, especially with this:

it's just so 🥰🥰 warm and fuzzy and absolutely delightful to see!! i'm absolutely in love with these three and this fic and their love for one another is complete perfection.

you've blown me away again, Bai, darling. so so good. i never tire of your writing <333

Making wishes

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI (nsfw tags under cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)

HAPPY (slightly belated) BIRTHDAY @cheollipop !!!!!! Nora I love you so so much, and when you asked me to do a lil birthday request for you I could not be more honoured. Thank you so much for existing, being the beautiful kind person that you are, thank you for sharing your art and your wonderful mind with all of us; I am wishing you happiness, love, health, luck, all the best and more <33 Smooches and huge hugs

🎂 pairing: bf!wooyoung x f!reader x best friend!seonghwa 🎂 genre: smut, pwp, fluff, established relationship into a poly relationship 🎂 summary: making wishes on shooting stars, on burning candles, you wanted one thing to come true. seonghwa and wooyoung are more than willing to celebrate the birthday girl. 🎂 wordcount: 7.0k 🎂 warnings/tags: poly relationship formation, language, an interesting kind of birthday party, slight(?) woohwa - relationship is a product of FICTION and does not imply ANYTHING in reality, food/eating, birthday wishes, woo being a menace, stalling hwa, a lot of love and acceptance, questionably edited (in true bai fashion), first poly fic so... yes; lmk if anything else 🎂 a/n: wishing everyone love and kindness. happy birthday nora, ilysm and i hope you enjoy!

🎂 permanent taglist: @doom-fics @legohwas @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @/cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @mystar1024 @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @ssaboala @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt

🎂 cannot be tagged: @hjoymyluv @memoriesofwoo @ate-ez

🎂 nsfw tags: soft dom!hwa, switch!woo, sub leaning!reader, blowjobs (yes, in plural), the lightest bit of degradation (not towards reader), praise, petnames (love, sweet, pretty...), throatfucking, cum in mouth + swallow, eating out + fingering, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), cum inside, threesome (why yes, two at the same time), soft aftercare, a lot of affection

“Hwa, do you know where-”

“Top cupboard on the far right. Behind the glass noodles packet. And no, not the blue packet. The one on the right. I told you it would be better to put it in a different cupboard.”

“... hey that’s… uh… okay… thanks.” you gave up quickly enough, fully aware that, no matter what retort you would make, Seonghwa was right. But he would never force you to change your habits and preferences even if he desperately wished so, because then who would ask him where the ingredients were in their own kitchen?

He knew you. Knew you better than you did. Seonghwa knew where you put things, knew what you truly meant when you spoke, knew how you felt depending on how you walked. Down to the tiniest tilt of your head or a raise of the eyebrow, he tried his best to read every nuance and learn every interpretation, and even after years of friendship, you were still his favourite story. If he could, he would never take his gaze off you, simply because in you he had found the tale that he always wanted to be part of.

As Seonghwa watched you reach for the bag of icing sugar - the product of you having forced your way into the preparations for your birthday after convincing him with your very best attempt at puppy eyes that you wanted to ‘share the burden’, he could not help but follow every movement. Biting his lower lip, Seonghwa desperately wished to lull his mind before it began to yell, though judging by the way his breath had gotten shallower as you lithely stretched towards the shelf, it was a bit too late for that, and instead he had to continue kicking himself. Over, and over, and over again. That he was stuck in the cliche scenario of being a lovesick best friend with no chance of ever even admitting his feelings.

It was easy to fall in love with you. So easy, in fact, that he had not noticed until it was far too late, and there was no room for you to hear his confessions. Frankly, had he been quicker on his internal uptake, Seonghwa had at least a year in his favour before the ‘official roadblock’ showed up. But no. Instead he had to be all blushes and smiles, trips to the Lego store and Star Wars movie marathons without any steps forward. Why? Because the last thing he wanted was to ever let you go. And to attempt to change things, even if Seonghwa desperately sought it, implied that the risk of you banishing him from your life would grow exponentially higher.

He could never see you as a stranger. As a daydream? Sure. As a fantasy? Undoubtedly. But as a passing face, a figure that would simply disappear from his heart and mind? After all that you had been through, the ups and downs, the trials and terrific successes, you were a permanent presence in his life. Perhaps even the epicentre of his musings, especially in the last few months. Because over this time, suddenly, he was not quite confident in his reasoning for your bashful smiles, the glimmer in your dazzling eyes, the lightness in your every step. Or at least, was not quite confident that it was ever him that caused you to act that way anymore. Seonghwa had grown too comfortable being around you but not with you, assuming that these two were the same thing. He had grown accustomed to kissing you on the cheek in greeting and in parting because that was ‘what friends did’, even though it was so far from the truth. Many times he had been questioned about your relationship, and he would simply brush it off. Apparently he did that too well. So well that you had been brushed away too and right into the arms of his own friend. Seonghwa, being the overly confident fool that he was, introduced you to Wooyoung, and watched as your acquaintanceship bloomed into friendship and soon enough into you calling that man your boyfriend. Your significant other. Any affectionate name or title that you would choose for him simply reminded Seonghwa that he had lost in the race to your heart. Nevertheless, his passions did not subside. He tried to extinguish them, tried to speak casually and behave cooly, but that only backfired when both you and Wooyoung only amplified your kindness, insisting that he needed to ‘be taken care of too’, and doting on him until all there was left for him to do was to admit to himself that he was deeply, unchangeably in love with you, and even the presence of a boyfriend could not deter him anymore. In fact, perhaps due to his close relationship with Wooyoung, he only felt that he would simply be a nice addition. Fit into your life like a puzzle piece, complementing both you and your boyfriend perfectly. He was perfectly aware that Wooyoung could satisfy you in ways that he couldn’t, but at the same time, Seonghwa knew you and Wooyoung, and thus could guess exactly how he could create the ideal harmony.

This was why he had jumped at the opportunity when you had messaged him with discussions for your birthday plans. You were never one to organise large gatherings, but even then the event turned into a family celebration to which Seonghwa was automatically invited. As such, when he heard that you wanted a more ‘intimate’ setting with just a couple of people and only your favourite things, his brain went into overdrive. A couple of people. As you had explicitly stated as soon as you invited him - you, him and Wooyoung: the most important people in your life, your past, present and future. The words had made his heart ache as he rapidly accepted the invitation and now found himself in the same kitchen as you and your boyfriend, feeling anything but like the odd one out, the third wheel.

It was in the lingering touches as you passed by him, the welcoming glances from Wooyoung as he would gingerly sidestep to get an item from another part of the kitchen, and some piece of information, a secret, strung tightly in the air right above his head and shooting between the two of you that resulted in what Seonghwa wanted to label as something reminiscent of smugness. Occasionally, you would look at Wooyoung and raise an eyebrow, as if you were waiting for some kind of instruction from him. This had led the latter to behave more freely, every bit a sly fox as he spoke in euphemisms, symbols and symphonies of comedic artistry that left Seonghwa baffled. Wooyoung’s attentiveness to the older man’s every reaction was astounding. From a light touch on the shoulder when they slumped as he was uneasy from a new mess made during cooking, or to a wink thrown in his direction as Wooyoung noticed him stiffen as you ambled past his form, hands on his waist to balance yourself as you squeezed between Seonghwa and the island counter.

A couple of hours later, in his peripherals unfolded the beginning of what he could only mark as a pivotal moment in his life. You called Wooyoung over casually, not giving a sign that there was anything particular that you wanted to ask, and how he embraced you, his chest pressed against your back only made Seonghwa want to sigh, wondering how it would be if he were to be able to do that limitlessly, instead of always worrying where his hands were, how long he should hold you, whether the action was making you uncomfortable. All he wanted was to be able to drift into a paradise with you in his arms, and feel your heart beating in unison with his. Voices dropped into a whisper, and inadvertently, Seonghwa caught himself half-closing the tap to reduce the cacophony it produced for even a little slip of a conversation to fly in his direction. To no avail - with barely any exchange between you, you and your boyfriend appeared to speak in codes, aside from one unexpectedly sultry gaze from you that sent Seonghwa’s mind reeling.

There was not much left for you to consider. It had been clear to you since a couple of years ago that you were not platonically indifferent towards Seonghwa. He was the subject of your desires, had appeared multiple times in your wildest dreams, and was both a source of comfort and agitation because, despite him always ‘being there’ for you, you wanted more. You needed more. He was like an unreachable star who you were inexplicably drawn to, and even though you had ample opportunity to be with him, and were close, it was not enough. The lightyears that separated you left you unsatiated with the relationship, because you wanted to give Seonghwa love. And more of it. With every moment that had past, you had found yourself flying deeper and deeper into outer space in the hopes of reaching this lonely star and share with it your own shine, so that together, you could be brighter than ever before. You prayed for shooting stars in the sky, so that you could make wish after wish, asking the same thing every time: that he would take the step and reveal the meaning behind his glimmer when you were around, that he would utter the words that you wanted to hear, that he would feel the same. But no such thing. You had been left in suspense - a grey zone from which neither of you dared to venture.

That was, until Wooyoung had entered your life, and set the ashes on fire. He was perceptive, a dreamer and a doer, not stopping at a set routine, always ready to find the optimum if it meant sharing happiness. To him, the situation was easy. As soon as he discovered that you were in love with Seonghwa, he took it upon himself to observe his friend, only to burst into a fit of laughter at just how oblivious both of you were, and how lucky he was to have both of you in his life along with the ability to let it all fall into place. The plan was easy enough. Without giving too much detail, Wooyoung proposed that Seonghwa needed to be shocked into a confession, and you agreed. After all, what harm could an attempt do when your feelings had reached a point of no return? You had naively believed that Wooyoung was going to approach this carefully, cautiously, likely because you had dared to believe that a flame could not be scalding, but no such luck. What you wished for, was a sacred plea to him, and he was not going to make the birthday girl wait for longer than she had already done. As soon as he moved away from you and pretended to return to his duties as chef, he lit the match and dropped it into the sea of sensual gasoline.

“You know that Y/N loves you, right?” Wooyoung shot through the silence, words sharper than a knife. Seonghwa turned his head to face the man beside him, only to see someone so nonchalant, almost bored, that he could not help but question the words. You were still, aside from the fingers that flittered across the counter, drumming as erratic as the one in your chest.

“Ha, very funny, yeah.” he responded with forced joviality, trying to refocus on washing the dishes even though he knew this was futile. The rhythmic chopping stopped and out of the corner of his eye Seonghwa could see your boyfriend put the knife down onto the cutting board.

Rapidly placing the dish he had been scrubbing onto the drying rack, he cleared the space for Wooyoung to wash his hands. This new quiet wave, accompanied only by the running tap was more deafening, oppressive, all-consuming as the phrase echoed around Seonghwa’s mind. ‘She loves you’. This had to be some kind of test; Wooyoung was known for his tricks and banter, so it was not beyond him to spit out the wild notion just to see how his friend would react. For that extra bit of knowledge. But he gave away nothing, so he looked at you, and was pierced by your gaze. The dazzling eyes, galaxies enveloping him, drawing him in as if to command him to accept the question as the truth.

Wooyoung took his time, fully aware of the attention that was on him, and the growing distress in which Seonghwa found himself. But that only fuelled his desire to say nothing. To keep the suspicions and hope floating in the air and in his control, and have Seonghwa right where he wanted him, or more specifically, where you wished Seonghwa would be. Wooyoung watched as the water trickled over his skin, and let his mind wander. You were stood behind him, frozen in one spot as you ogled Seonghwa, waiting for any more words from him or from your boyfriend. Clutching onto a towel, you were attempting to curb and ignore the butterflies that flew to your stomach as you witnessed the change in your best friend’s eyes which could only be described as a deepset, long-concealed affection that had finally been given the opportunity to breathe. Perhaps there was a chance for change, just as Wooyoung had told you before Seonghwa’s arrival into your home. You had been explicit in your feelings when Wooyoung had asked you out, and truth be told, he had expected it; it had been surprising enough to discover that you were, in fact, single, and not on the verge of celebrating a honeymoon, so to hear that you harboured less than platonic feelings for your friend felt only natural.

Even if you had not told this to Wooyoung specifically, it was obvious: you changed when you were with Seonghwa. The very image of serenity, you carried yourself with unparalleled grace when he was by your side. Though you did let your playful and carefree self through, it was always less for companionship but for comfort that Seonghwa readily provided. He was an anchor for you. Your beacon of light that you trusted with your life and more. He was more than important - he was essential. Your clarity. Maybe if Wooyoung was foolish enough, and you had not revealed the longing you had for the taller man, he could have passed it off to be simply an example of platonic soulmates, two people who had gone through so much together that it was not possible for either of them to exist without the other. Not because they were dependent, but because they were one another’s ‘home’. It was clear that platonic boundaries had been long forgotten between you and Seonghwa, only a large question mark remaining, and neither of you daring to turn it into a full-stop and call things what they were. Wooyoung could see the yearning burning within you, how you hoped for your friend to take that next step any time you called or spent time together. Even in Wooyoung’s presence, you were unabashedly drawn to the other man, and that, interestingly enough, made him fall even deeper for you. Your unparalleled ability to give love astounded him to no end, and ignited within him the desire to provide, the desire to show you that you were more than worthy of not only his love, but the love of the first man who had become a part of your universe. Seonghwa simply needed a gentle nudge in the right direction, Wooyoung had decided, and he was the one who was going to give it - a birthday present from him to you, and a belated one for his friend.

"Listen. She. Loves. You. Isn't that right, hm?" You could only nod, attached to the scene unfolding before you with predator-like focus. Your boyfriend’s words: so simple, and yet so hard-hitting that you almost laughed at the shocked expression on Seonghwa’s face, only just barely being able to contain yourself as it transformed into one that oozed trepidation.

Wooyoung promptly shook the majority of the water droplets clinging onto his hands as he closed the tap, and methodically dried them with the towel hanging from a hook attached to the sink cupboard. He discreetly observed Seonghwa’s rising nerves, barely able to stifle the smirk, threatening to break out across his lips due to the satisfaction brought on by the suspense that he had conjured. Anxious, confused, but above all, timidly delighted in the sly off-handed comment. Without a doubt Seonghwa was trying to guess what Wooyoung had planned, and the latter could hardly contain his excitement. Perhaps in some ways, he was being selfish by being the instigator of something he too had been wishing for since you had started dating, but the older male’s burning stares and lingering gazes that had commenced as soon as he walked through the door into the apartment served as enough motivation - all that remained was the final spark.

He walked up to Seonghwa until he was in a dizzying proximity, scrutinising him through half-lidded eyes. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he beckoned the man to turn his head and face him, and asked you to come near with a quick flick of the other hand. Scoffing at the unceremonious expression of power, you bit your inner cheek to suppress a snarky remark, aware that Wooyoung was only working in your favour. Never before had you seen your best friend this on edge, simultaneously disoriented and yearning for more, glances darting from Wooyoung to you and back. Bored from the lack of a progression, your boyfriend decided to cease stalling.

"Right. How is it that you, and you, two pretty best friends, spend years together, and not once get with one another?" you could see the bobbing of Seonghwa’s larynx as he swallowed some spit. His eyebrows furrowed, and he tilted his head as though to check if you agreed with what was being said. Upon seeing no easily readable reaction, he muttered:

"What?"

"I can hear the gears moving in your head Seonghwa, what's your answer?" Wooyoung was not letting up, the tension getting to him, leaving the world a climbing haze. Every single one of his senses appeared to be elevated, accentuating every sound, every smell, every twitch of his muscles against his clothes. It was impossible to contain his contentment as he took not of his friend readjusting how he was standing, as if there was a certain physical discomfort beginning to give way. Wooyoung knew well enough as to what it could be, and as such, cut off every single one of Seonghwa’s attempts to steer the conversation in a different, lighter direction.

"To-"

"Do you love her too?"

"But-"

"Seonghwa, do you trust me?" seeing as the taller man was not letting himself reveal his desire to simply lock you in his arms, the need contained in his burning orbs only, Wooyoung decided to slightly switch tactics bringing in their closeness as friends, as two people ready to blur the lines in search of that sensual perfection.

"Of course."

And you know that I trust you too, right?"

"Mhm…"

"So?"

"I…" Seonghwa picked at the sleeve of his light blue sweater, unable to face you. He felt he was too close to ruining the years of friendship that had been so carefully built up, all because of Wooyoung. The man was surely joking, he had to be. In no way were you-

Your hand grazed his upper arm, forcing him to look back up and meet you. Ever so tender, ever so caring, it was as though you were admiring the starry night sky when you revered him - it was not too far from the truth, considering that this wondrous man was indeed, who you saw as your universe. As a keeper of stars, someone who you desperately wished would envelop you and adore you and let you and Wooyoung adore him just like you had wished, year in, year out.

"Did you short-circuit?" Wooyoung asked, voice dropping into a whisper.

"A bit."

"Time for extreme measures."

Eyes impossibly wide and cheeks going red, Seonghwa could only stop and stare as Wooyoung pulled him towards himself and plant a fervent kiss on his lips. Before he could push away the man had already pulled back with a satisfied smirk, only to turn to you and wink before leaning into another kiss. You swore you could taste Seonghwa on his lips, sweeter than you could ever imagine. Melting into the sensuality, you could feel excitement rising in your chest. The intensity heightened, and you felt your boyfriend's hands snake around your waist all the while, upon peeking, you saw Seonghwa's blazing, darkened orbs studying you. His expression was unreadable, first clenched, lips slightly parted, and only one question on his mind: 'how dare he?'

"So, how does he taste? Sweet, right?" Wooyoung asked you, voice laden with mischief and anticipation for what would be a dizzying paradise.

"Better than I could have ever imagined."

"So this was your plan?" Seonghwa broke the momentary silence, a newfound hostility with notes of unbelievably strong craving. His tone dropped lower, until it was all that you could focus on. One hand travelled to his lips, fingers cautiously touching them, in disbelief at what had just unfolded. With a smirk the man reached for you, forcing your arms to fall from your boyfriend’s shoulders, where they had found themselves when you kissed, pulling you close until his hips were pressed against you, revealing the true effect of Wooyoung’s teases.

"Ye-"

"Because it fucking worked, alright. To answer the question, yes, I do love you. Longer than he did. And yet here he is, pulling rank, huh?" giving Wooyoung a side-eye, he muttered.

"Oh yes, of course Hwa."

"Well aren't you getting overly friendly..."

"Depending on what you are gonna do we're about to get even friendlier than that." Seonghwa took a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. Barely audible, you backtracked, feverishly trying to explain the thought process, the story behind this little ploy, a wave of fear inching closer to you as you felt your friend’s fingers dig into your side, breathing becoming more ragged, shallower.

"Wooyoung and I had talked about this for the first time when we started dating. I need you Hwa. He needs you too. And… well… yeah. That is… our side of the story, so… I'm sorry we should have just sat you down and talked or something-"

"Seems you didn't get a good enough taste since you are still talking."

"Oh?" Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, the switch in his friend's attitude catching him pleasantly off-guard.

"Tell me what's my limit." Seonghwa addressed you, his face barely an inch away from yours, hot breath against your skin, leaving you aching for more, for him to take the final step and let your history burn.

"None."

"Neither of you?" he looked at Wooyoung, who was observing with a wolfish grin, hand running through his hair.

“I think we have all waited long enough.”

In a matter of a single moment, a spark, Seonghwa’s lips were on yours, leading you into the paradise which you had been isolating exclusively to your musings. It was intoxicating, all-consuming, making you feel as though nothing else existed, and that you had been given the power to embrace the universe itself, the explosive pleasure of being in rhythmic bliss with the man you had longed for proving to be almost too much. And yet, you needed more, of him, of his touch, of his presence right against you. A soft moan escaped you as he deepened the kiss, which only led to him pressing himself into you, barely stopping you from stumbling back.

Wooyooung, satisfied with himself, and with the scene unfolding before him, reached out to push back a stray lock of black hair from Seonghwa’s face, suggesting that they take this to somewhere more comfortable. Breaking away, both of you looked at the shorter man, eyes clouded, lustful, and you took his hand, squeezing it in gratitude and let yourself be guided to your wildest dream that had previously been deemed unobtainable.

"Oh no no, tonight this pretty cunt is mine. You're going to prep her for me, Woo, while I see what she can do here..."

Seonghwa ran a finger over your jawline, his other hand at the base of his cock, pumping it a couple of times. Obediently, Wooyoung followed the instruction and moved so that he was right next to your pussy, admiring just how slick it already was by running two fingers between your lips, stopping at your clit to rub a few circles, highlighting its erectness. You whined at the feeling, trying to grind into his hand in the hopes of more contact, but Seonghwa prevented you from asking for any more by grasping your jaw and guiding you onto his dick, sighing as you took his length. Stopping midway as he felt your throat constrict, he asked you:

“You okay? Need a break? So gone already?” counting your breaths, you leaned back to whisper that you were more than fine, moaning when Wooyoung licked a stripe up your pussy and stopped to suck on your clit, to be silenced as Seonghwa’s member pressed against your lips, and slid into the warmth.

With every moan all but muted, you were a whimpering mess to which Seonghwa was already addicted. He was enthralled by how you responded to Wooyoung’s every touch, how you relaxed your throat to let him rock into you bit by bit. When his friend’s tongue curled into your heat, lapping at you to the point when a light tremble started in your legs, Seonghwa reached for your hand, squeezing it in reassurance and earning a loving glance from you. The contrast between the adorable shimmer in your eyes and the lewd act was more than enough to twist his world on its axis. As an orgasm ripped through you, with Wooyoung relentlessly pumping into you with his digits and flicking your aroused bud with his tongue, you moaned over Seonghwa’s member. He bit his lip, forcing himself to ease out, and let you regain some composure. He wiped the corners of your mouth with his thumb in an attempt to remove a bit of the dribble, a smile dancing on his lips.

"You are so beautiful, my sweet. Thank you. Can you still take care of him?" voice ever so soft, he inquired, every decision still being left to you. You mumbled in approval of the action, and watched as Wooyoung rose to meet you.

Barely having recovered, you were eager to pay your boyfriend back, giving one last glance to Seonghwa’s member, coated in a layer of your spit mixed with pre-cum as he crawled on his knees away from you, to position himself at your entrance. While he teased your pulsing cunt, running his digits between your folds and letting his tip flick your sensitive bud, Wooyoung was in front of you, demonstratively licking his lips to show how he devoured every bit of your nectar, his cock stiff in his hands, begging for attention which you were more than ready to provide.

“Hwa-a… ah!” you mewled, nearly collapsing on your back as Seonghwa slowly entered you, his hips pressed against yours, giving you some time to adjust to his length. The feeling of another cock, aside from your boyfriend’s, filling you up so well and building you up regardless of having just come over Wooyoung’s mouth was stupefying, and it seemed that all you could recall in that moment was your best friend’s name.

Having had enough, Wooyoung guided your focus back to him, tapping you below your chin. A series of apologies fell from your lips, making the man chuckle as he reminded you that there was only one way to apologise in this case. Without needing any more elaboration, you ran your tongue over his leaking hole, lapping up the pre-release, and took him in, sighing at the feeling of being full of both Wooyoung and Seonghwa.

“What a good girl, devouring my cock like this- ah…” Wooyoung praised, brushing strands away, lazily observing you as you bobbed your head back and forth, interrupted only by Seonghwa hitting your g-spot, eliciting salacious moans.

“She really is perfect… Y/N, you’re just so perfect for my dick.”

“Oh look at her falling apart, Hwa. You are fucking her so well.”

“So well she can’t even help you out?” he taunted you, knowing full well that the comment could only lead to one thing and one thing only. Wooyoung smirked, taking a fistful of your hair, causing you to look up at him with watery orbs as he warmed his cock in your mouth. The sight nearly tipped him over the edge, a twitch threatening an oncoming wave of pleasure. But he could not come, at least not before he could show his friend just how much of him you could take.

“Let’s show him just how well this throat can take me, yeah?” and upon seeing a small nod, pushed his length deeper, tensing as your tongue and teeth lightly grazed every vein and his tip hit your uvula and the back of your throat.

It was challenging to restrain himself from thrusting into you when you looked so marvellous, nose pressed against him, relaxing yourself to take him whole, despite Seonghwa repeatedly sheathing inside you, bringing you closer and closer to your own ruin. It was the fact that you were still so attentive, so caring towards him, equally as loving and being so unbelievably good that made Wooyoung fall even more in love with you. How you let him guide you over his cock, trusting his movements and his sensations completely, caring for his pleasure. How the introduction of Seonghwa, your first and ongoing love, did nothing to stop your adoration for Wooyoung. You truly were one of a kind, his galaxy, the keeper of the flame. It was not long until his climax reached him, pleasure searing through as his hand kept you frozen so that you would not choke as his cum painted your mouth.

Swallowing the last of Wooyoung’s hot orgasm, you yelped over the softening member as Seonghwa picked up his pace, demanding your full attention. The vibration caused Wooyoung to let out a low groan and tightened his grip on your hair momentarily, another string of release shooting into the back of your throat, nearly making you sputter. Cooing at your state, he tugged you back ever so carefully, hissing as your tongue gave his cock a final swipe, and murmured:

“Hwa, let me support her, yeah? She likes it when you go deep into her pussy, don’t you?” giving you a light pat, almost mockingly, Wooyoung sat on the bed behind you, holding you in place so that Seonghwa did not need to worry about you slipping, and instead focus on the relentless rhythm. You could not respond as the knot in your core grew tighter and tighter with every thrust. Every one of Seonghwa’s low moans that reached you was a lascivious melody, so erotic that all you could hope for was for him to never even consider stopping.

Positioned between the two men, you were in a soothing mindlessness, having the ability and the trust to give yourself up to them, let them love you. Every touch on your skin was an intimate, sensual flame, unwinding you, prompting you to gift them your very soul. You felt Wooyoung’s member brushing against your ass as you were jolted back by Seonghwa’s movements, the sensation proving to be impossible to handle as your climax approached at a startling speed. Gripping Wooyoung’s arms which had positioned themselves on your waist, his veins etching a design into your palms and leaving you breathless, you felt the wave crashing over you, sinking you into an unprecedented euphoria. Your body shook violently as your orgasm drowned out any sound, and you swore you could count the stars in your eyes as Seonghwa continued his motions, mercilessly in love with how your soaked, clenching pussy felt around his throbbing length.

“Ah… fuck, love, I-”

“Hwa- please-”

Seonghwa continued pounding into you with reckless abandon, each thrust leaving you practically senseless as your orgasm had been long-surpassed, the overwhelming trembling of your every nerve, every muscle as your core was caught ablaze with the overstimulation completely wiping your ability to form a single coherent thought. Wooyoung groaned from the sight of Seonghwa’s downcast eyes, looking at nothing or looking within, ecstatic, and the wanton sounds of his cock pistoning into your wet pussy, hands moving to knead your breasts and pinch your erect nipples. You cried out from the added sensation, head falling back and over Wooyoung’s shoulder as Seonghwa slowed to a stuttered, faltering grind, his own climax imminent.

“Y/N, my lo- I’m-” you heard him over your own whines, and in a matter of seconds he bucked into you one final time, almost falling towards you as your still-pulsating walls milked his release. He let out a shaky breath as his cum filled your sex, the warmth and fullness driving you to the brink of consciousness. Tentatively moving his hips, he fucked the load into you, groaning as he felt it leak out, completing the lewd scene.

“So… so gorgeous, Y/N…” He mumbled, kissing you once, twice as the ripples of pleasure overtook him entirely… “Woo… thank- mfph- thank you…”

“It’s us three now, hm?” Wooyoung responded, amazed at just how much Seonghwa had been holding back, and how brilliant it was to uncover the tandem that was now you and your two loves.

Trailing kisses on your neck as Wooyoung continued to hold you, his chest flush against your back as you rode out your high, dazed and in an ethereal bliss. Slow circles on your hips as Seonghwa pressed his forehead against yours, soothing your light tremble as he pulled out of you, the last rivulets of cum dripping onto your pubic bone. Unable to sustain the position any longer, legs having grown weak as the adrenaline subsided he gave into Wooyoung’s guidance as the man slinked away from you, laying you down onto the bed, and motioned for Seonghwa to do the same. In the quietude, you three remained in one another’s arms, only the steadying breathing and bare skin covered in a glistening sheen of sweat reminding you that this was all a stunning reality.

As you detangled from one another, Wooyoung and Seonghwa gave you one last, gentle peck on the cheek each before whispering amongst themselves. As you lay on the bed sheets, surrounded by the aura of lovemaking, unfocused gaze peering at the dark ceiling, you felt a clean towel going over your body, only to see Seonghwa gingerly caressing each limb, planting one kiss, another. When he noticed that you were watching him, he threw you a big dopey grin, only to mumble out words of adoration. He kept you grounded with his presence, his feathery touches, while Wooyoung rushed through re-dressing and picking out something comfortable for you to wear. Once done, the two men changed places, with the latter now tending to you and helping you get dressed, barely suppressing a smile as he let a large hoodie fall over your body. When you gave him an endearing thumbs up, hands barely peeking from the sleeves, he playfully lunged to hug you and make you fall back onto the bed, giggling airily into your ear and trying to wrap you up even tighter. Seonghwa joined you not long after, and you were caught in between two heavens, safe, adored, the intricacies of the world around you finally making sense as both Wooyoung and Seonghwa illuminated them. The stars in the sky, the flames on the earth, they completed you just as you completed them, and this was something that you would never wish to give up. They were here for you. You were here for them. This was your wish, a wish that had finally come true. For you, for Wooyoung, for Seonghwa.

“So… shall we have that cake then… at least?” you whispered into the darkness, immediately hearing rustling to either side of you, and a soft sigh from Wooyoung, breath tickling your ear as he inched a little closer, only to tease:

“But didn’t we just have dessert-”

“Wooyoung!” the yelp only seemed to amuse your two loves as they chuckled, with Seonghwa moving to push a few strands of your hair back, and reveal his glimmering orbs that managed to catch the light from the window, curtains undrawn and letting the city lights inside, giving the impression that the universe truly was in his those two windows to the soul. Your breath hitched as you gazed at him, head resting on his palm, as he wondered whether he was dreaming, the mumble slipping out automatically:

“He’s right. You’re sweet, Y/N.”

“Oh my goodness-”

You turned your head, only to feel soft fingers cupping your chin and pulling you into a slow, gentle kiss. Eyes fluttering shut, you sank into Seonghwa once again, the idea of him loving you back and wanting to be with you, accepting your other love who had his hand lazily thrown around your waist and face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, it was all so surreal that you were afraid to even take a peek.

“But we do have a kitchen to clean though...” you groaned, shaking your head at the choice of comment. Wooyoung was quicker to react, snuggling more closely and muttering:

“Now that can wait-”

“...and a wish to make.” Seonghwa elaborated, cutting Wooyoung’s complaints short, and lying down to hug you, arm lying atop the other man’s, drawing circled on your skin where the top into which you had changed had ridden up, “Let’s celebrate our birthday girl.”

Our. The word rang in your ears and wriggled its way into your mind, a new star shining in your sky, enveloping you, revering you through the creation of a paradise to which you thought there were no gates nor glimpses. The simple word - a spark of a lighter, eradicating shadows of doubt and setting the soul ablaze with newfound passion and excitement, turning your birthday into a renaissance celebrating love.

Even if you had not even made your wish yet, it was obvious. You were yourself when you were with Wooyoung and Seonghwa, and you wanted nothing more but for this bond to grow into a loving intuition. You looked up from the cake, in the middle of which was a glowing candle, and admired the two men, illuminated by the warm flickering light. How they had huddled closer to one another, with Seonghwa attempting to discreetly point out to Wooyoung that he should adjust the angle at which he held his phone to capture the precious moment. How blissful, relaxed they appeared to be as they ceased their quiet arrangement, only to return your gaze. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you read nothing but adoration in their eyes, and you clenched the material of the hoodie into which the two had insisted you change, trying to steady your breathing.

Reading your actions, your best friend, turned lover, nodded in reassurance, leaning closer towards you by resting his head on a propped up hand, while Wooyoung gave you a bright smile and threw an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders, nearly making him lose balance. The action did not seem to phase the older man in the slightest, as he simply pressed his tongue against the corner of his mouth and rolled his eyes in mock vexation, only to break out into an equally heart-melting grin. Neither rushed you, appreciating your need to take in the change, entranced by your loving peace. This new dynamic had indeed been something of a dream, and you thought that it was going to remain that way until you would be forced to forget, or live in an illusion of loving less. But now you found yourself, for the first time in some years, thinking of new wishes, musing the steps ahead.

As you blew out the fire, and motioned for the two to not turn the lights on quite yet, you were at peace. Nothing felt more right than observing Seonghwa standing up to gingerly remove the candle and slice the cake, and receiving a peck on the cheek from Wooyoung, who was now hovering over your left shoulder, fingers playing with your hair. The puzzle pieces had fallen into place, and you, like three beautiful stars, had formed a stunning constellation. In a world so fast-paced and lonely, you were surrounded by a miraculous, unconditional love - two people who not only adored you, but adored your ability to love them both equally, and in turn, love the universe. With you, they felt as though they had found their home, and were more than willing to maintain the intricate balance.

With the pair moving their chairs around the table to sit on either side of you, the action, albeit carried out serenely, quietly, expressed a boyish excitement for the development, and the way in which they seeked even more closeness with you, be it by purposefully leaning to reach for a meaningless item across the table, or by resting an arm on the back of the chair, only confirmed their shared adoration. Under the full moon that greeted you from the outside with a silvery blue sheen, you found a comfortable stillness, and as the two men raised their heads to follow your gaze to the view outside, hoped that your new wish, one for three, for years to come, would come true too.

#i tried to read this last night but i was so tired i'm so sorry #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #park seonghwa #jung wooyoung #favorites #hwaightme #bai <3

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crown-anon · 4 years ago

Text

@hearts1ck my beloved

November 1st

CW: explicit; more CWs under the cut

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; reader has male anatomy; more specifics under the cut

edited 14 March 2021

anonymous asked

consider. okay. CONSIDER. consider masochist george. okay?? okay. okay LISTEN.

I think I have a problem with gimmicks also. because. because. ever since strawberry milk george, I. I have not stopped thinking about strawberry flavored lube. because! listen okay hear me out.

(this is absolutely 110% a response to discovering that you share a birthday with him. what of it?)

I know everyone likes pillow princess george and. that's okay. that's FINE. these are not mutually exclusive.

george looking up at you with The LookTM wearing some pink strawberry milk lingerie. not even lingerie really! just something cute like that

& him being like. "I know you love me 👉👈 but I need you to fuck me like you don't"

so I was. thinking. that brat george is the exact kind of person to say (playfully & consensually) "but I don't wanna give you head, I just wanna fuck >:(" after you've got him worked up, maybe from teasing him throughout the day, or edging him a little. but you still need some type of lube. so you go to apply the first bottle you see and he's pink when he asks you "😳 is that ... strawberry ... ?" and you're confused like ??? bro you just asked me to fuck you into next week why're you interested in the flavored lube

but. but listen. he would get so enthusiastic about it. at first it's just "maybe I can stand to eat them out just a little bit before ..." and then after you come the first time it devolves really, really quickly into the need to just. take care of you. and it stretches on until you've come three or four times, and you're still shaking, and he's just. completely gone in subspace

hmm ... george climbing up onto your lap when he's done with you, going in to give you a kiss, and he tastes like strawberry. and he ends up moaning right into your mouth because he's been so horny but so? understimulated?? that he outright jumps as soon as his dick grazes your thigh. it would only take a couple stuttery grinds before he's finishing on both of your stomachs

and he's just so cute when comes, or when he bites down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet. and it's your birthdays. so, you decide you'll give him a reason to cry. and he'll finally get put in his place! it's a win-win for both of you!!

istg every time I send you an ask I discover something new about myself. you. you have made a dreamteam simp out of me. I am but a shell of the man I once was. I think I should thank you? [👑]

hearts1ck

i say this nearly every time you send stuff in but...... by god you own my soul. all of it. this – i – first of all, the implications of masochist george losing his fucking mind when you’re rough with him? guhhhfjklgjgf. and ,..d,,f,,, ,, ,, george in pink lingerie. i. i . a... pink satin slip maybe or .... ohghfd; oh my god those. that cat panty/bra set. im ascending im losing my brain as i type this i cannot –

okay im back on earth. he’d get into that rhythm and settle like liquid while he gets to work on you, and his subspace face is so self-satisfied and nearly smug so he’s just having the time of his life,,, and he makes such a loud noise when his dick twitches against your thigh and maybe... JUST MAYBE he whimpers extra watery when you drag his hips to grind against where you’re wet and dripping/your spent cock as if he’s the one who’d get overstimulated by it. when he finally leans away, eyelids heavy, you gently fit your hand over his jaw and ask, “did you even ask? it’s one thing to come without permission, but not even caring to ask? georgie, i might just be offended,” and he whines “green”s against your neck before you even check-in

and because u made it abt both of our birthdays ,,,, spanks for each year we’ve been alive methinks ??? and then the scratch down his ass gets him hard again and he’s so embarrassed by it, ,,, , ,, ,, ,, ,, ,

also thank god you’ve joined the george boat. i’m so proud of myself for hopefully being part of the reason you got dragged over here HJFKDHSKD

#👑 anon #(my beloved) #keep #anon thoughts: george #redsick #SHAWTY WANT THE WHOLE CREW SHAWTY BAD

as soon as you said birthday spanks I decided I had to write more about this. and I was going to leave more snippets in your askbox like the fucking gremlin creature I am, but then my thoughts started. actually having structure? and then I started writing it. and I tried to do homework and write on study breaks only but. I just kept coming back to this. this is the polar opposite of writer's block. I think I'm cursed or something. so here I am rushing to finish this so that I may rest in peace!!

yes I've been writing nonstop since I sent you that ask. what of it. what the fuck of it.

when I said I discover something new about myself every time we interact, I. I'm serious. I think I might be insane or something. I'm way too sadistic. you'll see. what the fuck is this? what the fuck did I just write??

this would have done so much critical psychic damage if I had posted it on November 1st in real life, but mental illness says I can't let my horny thoughts rattle around in my brain for that long. so!! it's you guys's problem now xoxoxo

I'm not fucking proofreading this. love you though 💗

I did end up proofreading actually. oops! looks like posting at 23:00 isn't always a good idea.

November 1st

CW: explicit, anal (kind of vague), bondage (collar + leash), corruption, domspace (I think??), edging, handjob, humiliation, masochism, oral, praise, sadism, spanking, subspace, swearing. I call George a whore and a slut at least once. and also, George calls yellow at one point. this one kind of surprised me so just. Be Careful. I cannot believe I wrote this. I don't know where this came from.

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; I use the word "sir;" reader has male anatomy; I use the words "cock," "dick," and "head;" reader can ejaculate

—

dawn shines through drawn curtains, illuminating the tile floor and your robed figure reflecting off it. batter sizzles in the skillet as you flip the last pancake over. this side looks golden brown, like honeycomb or caramelized sugar. that delicious, freshly-baked fragrance mingles with scented candles. it's perfect, you smile. he's going to love it.

you lift the pancake with a spatula, stacking it on top of the others on his plate. you bring it to his seat at the table, along with the butter, the syrup, the honey, the jam…and you go to pour him a drink.

"hey baby," you greet warmly to the sleepyhead rubbing his eyes in the entryway, still clinging to a pillow. his hair's a mess, only wearing socks and a sweatshirt that reaches down past his thighs. you reckon he'd only just crawled out of bed.

"morning…" he yawns, stumbling past you to take his seat.

"milk?" you ask, he only nods. "did you sleep okay?"

he hums affirmatively. "I…can we…"

one track mind, you joke inwardly. but you don't blame him. "of course," you open the fridge.

you hear him pause. "…is it too early for that?"

"no, no!" you give him a lighthearted laugh. "I kind of expected it, to be honest…I want it, too."

he's silent under the noise of you rummaging through the fridge. "I—"

"sorry—it looks like all we have is strawberry milk. is that alright?"

"yeah…yeah, that's alright. I…actually…wanted to try something new." you shut the fridge, he's fidgeting in his seat.

"hit me with it," your expression is gentle. you pass his cup off to him, but he holds his hand over yours a little too long, looking up at you.

"fuck me like you hate me."

you don't know if it's hearing him swear, or the way he said it so calmly, or how he closed his eyes and swallowed hard before his tone could dip down into something lower. but like a match in an torrent of gasoline, suddenly you're burning up.

you only realize you're staring when he bites his lip and looks down. you start to say something, but the words don't form.

he laughs nonthreateningly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "is that a yes?"

you laugh with him. "I…yes, absolutely yes." you turn back around to make your own stack of pancakes. "you should eat first, though."

"what?" he teases. "will I need the energy?"

you smile. "yeah. I think you will." you can practically feel him open his mouth in protest, but he stays silent after that.

and it stays mostly silent while you cook your pancakes. you hear the clinking of his fork on his plate, but it isn't very disruptive. it sounds like he's hurrying to finish his food.

when you go back to the table with your own platter, he's already done eating. he's red down to his neck, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt, looking at you expectantly. you spot a pair of tassels peeking out from under it, just below his hip bones. is that…

he pulls the hem up just a bit, holding your gaze. he smiles, apparently satisfied watching your face heat up.

"I—you should go…go get ready," you manage. he gets up before you even finish your sentence, only stopping to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

except it isn't quick, when he slides his hand down to rest firmly on your collar, and leans in to trail kisses down your neck. "a-and leave that on," you stutter.

he pauses, just under your jaw. "leave what on?" he murmurs.

your breath catches, you shut your eyes. "whatever the fuck it is you're wearing under there."

he's hardly grazing your skin, but you can feel how hot he is next to you. it takes all of your willpower not to shiver.

he pulls back quickly, only his hand lingering. "I don't know what you're talking about." and just like that, he disappears into your bedroom.

you reach up a hand tentatively to your collar, hot to the touch. I'm in way too deep, you decide, and force yourself to take a bite of your food despite your nerves.

—

"that," you hiss. "that fucking outfit. that."

"oh, this?" he bites his lip, hooking his thumb in the keyhole. "this's just what I went to bed in last night."

"fuck you. we both know that isn't true."

he tugs gently on his top, pulling it a little to the side. "what's the big deal? can't I wear something special for my birthday?"

"it's special, all right," and you leave it at that, opting instead to slot between his legs where he sits waiting on the edge of the bed. you bring up a hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb across his cheek. you'll never get enough of the way he looks at you, like you're intoxicating.

…? you frown.

"is something…missing?" he perks up instantly at "missing."

"what…?" he chooses his words carefully.

"the collar—your collar. where is it?" you turn away to start going through your bedside table, but the way his lips quirk up into a sly smile isn't lost on you.

that's lube…that's a vibrator…where the fuck is it…? "w-what collar?" he stumbles over his words.

your mind jumps to say, the collar that came with that outfit, or I know you know what I'm talking about, but you won't give him the satisfaction. you decide to speak a little darker, only a firm "George." you hear him swallow.

"w-well," his voice is shaky, "you only told me to leave on whatever I was wearing under my shirt. and…I wasn't wearing that collar at breakfast…s-so technically…"

you stop looking immediately. you turn to take him in, legs crossed, stance confident, but expression showing uncertainty. you can see the regret on his face. "get up." he takes a shallow breath. "get up."

"I'm—"

"don't I'm sorry me," you snap. "you look for your fucking collar on your own."

he slips off the bed, looking ashamed, but starts digging through the drawer all the same. "I really am sorry," he murmurs. you take his place sitting on the bed. he finds what he's looking for rather quickly: a simple white leather collar with a bell, and a leash. he hands them off to you shyly. "um, here…"

"good boy," you praise. "kneel."

he shuts his eyes and does as he's told. you can see the bliss wash over his face just at being ordered around. his lips part a little as he lets out a heavy breath. if only I knew what this would do to him, you muse, I'd have done this ages ago.

you fasten the collar, revelling in how he shivers at the gentle sensation of cold leather hanging around his neck. you leave it a little bit loose, but still comfortable, and hook the leash in its place. he sits obediently still on his knees, looking deep in thought.

"Oh, I know what I'm gonna do to you," you bait. "how old are you today?"

"mmm. twenty-five." he looks down.

you smile, holding tight onto the leash. "I'm gonna edge you. twenty-five times."

he flinches away immediately, yet hums in pleasant surprise when the leash snaps taught. the bell jingles stiffly. "no way. that's way too much."

"I think you should've thought about that before you wore that to breakfast," you decide, tugging a little. he's caught off-guard and stumbles forward, stopping himself by leaving a clumsy pair of kisses on the inside of your thigh. the metal and leather feel refreshingly cool against your feverish skin. "we've got all day, baby."

you expect to hear some kind of protest, you're crazy. or a playful taunt, I'm better off doing this by myself. but he knits his brows and openly moans at the thought. "all day…" he repeats.

he looks up at you, almost pleading, and you can hear the resignation in his voice when he whispers "alright."

"get up here," you command. "on top of me." as he climbs up into your lap, a little too eagerly, you add, "and take your dick out."

you shrug your robe off your shoulders while he's working on his panties, and without thinking, you ask, "color?"

he stops, leaving his head poking cutely over the waistband. he looks up at you again. "…what?"

"um…color," you explain. "like, how are you doing? is this okay? I don't actually want to hurt you. uhhh…green means good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop."

he stifles a laugh. "you're such a nerd. I'm okay."

"alright." you blush a little. "we can stop whenever you need to. this is for you…" you think of something horribly unsexy to say. "…birthday boy."

now he's really laughing, with his whole body. you think the way it makes his collar jingle is cute. "oh my god. shut up. just shut up," his expression turns serious, and he drops to a whisper, "and fuck me."

that got you hot again. you pull him by the leash into a kiss, you bite his lip, you eat him up. and you grab the both of you together with your other hand, you moan in tandem. you can feel how you took him by surprise in the way he twitches under your thumb, the way he leans into you with his whole body. you part from the kiss and he leans back on his heels, panting hard, holding on to your shoulders for support. you can feel him shaking a little.

when you move your hand all the way up the first time, you squeeze both of your heads gently, and he practically falls into you. muffled in the crook of your neck, he begs, "god, do that again."

so you do. again. and again. what was a string of stuttered breaths turns into a single broken moan as you jerk the both of you off. when you think you're getting close, you let go of yourself to focus all your attention on him.

"fuck, sir," he whines—hahaha, that sir made your cock leak a little. he shut his eyes tight. "I-I-I think—I think I'm—"

just like that, you stop, and he goes slack, practically laying on you. but he doesn't grind back, or even move to touch himself. that won't last very long.

you let him come back down, knowing edging takes a lot out of you; maybe even more so than actually coming does. slowly but surely, his breathing steadies. you rub between his shoulderblades affectionately, still trying to ground yourself, too.

once you've found your voice again, you question, "are you gonna count for me?"

he makes a sound against your skin, somewhere between excitement and fear. "…o-one." you revel in how fucked-out he sounds already.

"one what?" you prod.

he seems at a loss, like he's forgotten himself, what he said. after a minute or two of pondering, he catches on. "…sir."

it's your turn to moan. your dick jumps at the honorific, still mostly untouched against your stomach. "good boy." and you dive back in. twenty-four to go.

—

it's noon. you're working on nineteen. and your partner's getting much more…expressive. he's started biting his hand to keep himself quiet, but he's still…

"I-I—oh fuck, I'm—fuck, I-I'm—I'm—" he whimpers through his teeth. and he yelps, whole body shaking, bell jingling incessantly, when he comes all over your hand and stomach.

you take your hand off him immediately, and this time he does try to reach down, ride through it, but you grab both his wrists to stop him. he grinds down uselessly against your thigh and your dick. although you're still hard, and only a hairline trigger away from coming yourself, it doesn't stop you from keeping this brat in line. you only bite your lip and close your eyes.

he leans his forehead against yours, moving in to give you a kiss, but you push him away.

"did you never learn how to fucking count?" you growl.

he winces. "I-I-I-I'm…I'm sorry—"

you scowl at your hand, covered in come. "here, slut," you raise it up to his lips. "clean this off for me."

he tears up a little, but takes your fingers into his mouth all the same. pretty quickly, though, he spits them back out.

"it doesn't taste good…" he complains.

"oh? oh, it doesn't?" you mock. "but it felt good, when you came without my permission, like a cheap fucking whore."

a couple of tears spill over, roll down his cheeks, yet he says nothing, only moving back in to lap his come off your hand. you can see it in his expression that he's not very happy about it, but he doesn't protest further.

"is this good enough, sir?" he asks, when it seems that he's gotten it all. it looks clean enough, you agree. you grab him by the chin, hooking your thumb in his mouth. you don't even have to tell him to suck.

"you come without my approval again, and it's over. you can go back to playing minecraft—or what-the-fuck-ever—with your friends for your birthday. do you want to sleep on the couch, Georgie?"

if he wasn't crying before, he's definitely crying now. he doesn't shake his head, but he circles your fingertip with his tongue enthusiastically, as if to say, I'll be good, I'll be good this time, looking up at you doe-eyed.

"bend over for me," you demand. "across my lap."

he does so immediately. he slips a little bit while he's changing positions, you hear the bell ring, and he scrambles to correct himself. he settles with his ankles crossed and his head in his hands, propping himself up on his elbows. you feel a little bad, you admit, but you won't budge; he has a safeword, you trust that he'll use it.

"let's try that again," your tone softens. "I want you to count for me, okay?"

he nods.

you pull his panties to the side, pause briefly, and bring down your hand with a satisfying smack.

"ohhhhhh—" he moans, jolting a little. "—holy shit, did you just spank me?"

your stomach drops, you go to rub him gently where you just hit him. "is that okay—?"

"it's hot, it's so hot, fuck," he shifts in your lap. "um, sorry…one."

seriously, something about hearing him swear awakens something in you, every time. you're fired up. you spank him again.

"mmm—two…" is he…? "three…"

you pause to massage his ass again, and to speak. "you're…you're hard again, aren't you?"

you didn't even spank him yet, but he lets out a moan. "fuck, I—I just. I want you. I want this. so, so much."

you wonder if this is actually the same George who was fidgeting with his pillow in the dining room this morning.

"you're so bad, getting turned on by something like this," you tease. he only moans in response.

"four—five—six—seven…" he chokes out. "it's starting to sting…"

you take a break, kneading the skin where your angry red handprint is starting to take shape.

"eight…nine…but god, it hurts so good…" he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "ten…"

at ten, you linger for a moment, holding a handful of his ass. "does it?"

"yes—yesyesyes," he buries his face in the pillow, and shivers. "fuck, eleven…twelve…"

you pull his panties down to his knees, and switch sides. he lifts his hips up, so I can reach him better, you guess. you don't miss the telltale glint of a butt plug, but you'll get to that later.

"thirteen—fourteen—fifteen—sixteen," he moans between slaps. he's gripping the pillowcase so hard his knuckles are white.

in this new position, the way he jumps with every hit makes his cock brush against yours just right. fuck, you're still hard from earlier. this time you're the one who whimpers.

"seventeen, eighteen," he pauses, breathless. you pull gently on his leash, he arches his back and moans, "n-nineteen." his bell jingles.

he grinds down, just for a moment, and the friction is delicious. you're a little dizzy, you think you might've thrust back. you both sigh at the feeling.

"…t-twenty…see? I-I can count…I'm a good boy…I'm good for you…aren't I?"

"you are," you murmur, but you aren't sure he hears you. "you're so good…"

"twenty-one—twenty-two…I-I feel like I haven't done anything right today…twenty-three…"

"…George…?" you hear a muffled sob.

"twenty-four…" he mumbles.

"George?" you start to get concerned. he just keeps crying. "hey…" you whisper. you gently prompt him to turn him over; the pillow's a little wet. you pull the panties off all the way, and get him out of the bra, which had a little stray come on it. you help him sit up in your lap, and pull him into a hug.

"am I really just a whore…?" he asks brokenly.

"you've been so good for me, baby. you've done everything I've asked." you wipe his tears away with your thumb. "are you okay?"

"but I—" he coughs. "—I came too soon, I came without your permission…"

you kiss his hair, and hold him to your chest. "you've been so patient. I'm proud of you."

he finally wraps his arms around you. "I-I'm sorry."

"nonsense," you reassure. "your comfort takes priority. are you okay? color?"

"I…" he searches for the words. "I dunno. yellow? I…that hurt, I think. being…degraded?"

you comb through his hair with your fingers. "I understand. thank you for telling me. I love you."

—

you stay like that for a minute. you grab him a snack and a drink, but for the most part, you just enjoy each other's company, tangled-up together. you don't bother putting your clothes back on.

it's later in the evening. you're straddling him, peppering his shoulders with kisses, and he's giggling underneath you. he turns over to give you a short and sweet kiss.

"baby?" he says, looking expectantly.

"what is it?" you sit back on your heels.

he hesitates. "…I wanna keep going. from earlier."

you're serious again. "are you sure you're okay?" you grab his hand, bringing it up to kiss his fingertips. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm alright," he assures. "I remember you promising me an all-day thing, though."

you blush, a little surprised by his forwardness. "of course. I think…I…" you laugh. "I wanna fuck you."

"yeah?" he smiles, leaning up close. "show me how much."

you hold his jaw while you kiss him, biting his bottom lip between your teeth. he tastes like the coffee and cream you made him earlier. you feel his breath hitch. he reaches up to hold your shoulders.

you pull back. "hey, blow me first."

"what? why?" he giggled.

"it's been a couple hours, I'm not hard anymore," you coax. "I thought you liked taking orders?"

he cringed. "but come tastes gross!"

you slid off him and hopped off the bed, opening the drawer. "suit yourself. you get to watch me jack off, then."

"fine by me, I think you look good when you masturbate."

"ohhh, I forget, you're too blissed-out to pay attention to how I look when you're getting fucking owned."

"I am not!"

"you are too!" he sticks his tongue out at you.

you open the lid, pouring a little on your hand, a little on your cock. it's translucent pink, seems a little fragrant. you give yourself a couple of strokes with a sigh.

he's quiet for a second, then, shyly, "um…is that…strawberry flavored…?"

you bite your lip. "I thought you weren't gonna give me head?"

"I was just curious." it's a weak lie, but you say nothing.

your eyes are shut, but you can feel him moving around a bit on the bed, you hear his bell ring a couple times. you feel a hand on your thigh, so you decide to peek. and holy shit.

your partner's made his way to the floor, on his knees between your legs, holding his leash in his mouth, his fucking mouth, what the fuck. his thumb's rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh. the half-lidded look he's giving you should be criminal.

"you—I thought you said you wouldn't…" you can't find the words. you reach out and take the leash from his mouth. you see your hand shake in front of you.

"I'm just watching…" he whispers, looking up at you, mesmerized.

you're only able to get a couple of pumps in before he's joining you, hand over yours as you get yourself off. just the extra sensation of somebody else's touch is enough to make you bite back a moan.

"fuck—!" you jolt when he licks a stripe up the underside. he mouths over the head, jerking you off on his own now. you move to grip the sheets in one hand, his leash in the other. and you come without warning. you see it end up on his hand and your stomach before you shut your eyes tight.

he's quiet while you're coming down, just helping you ride it out, giving you kisses on your thighs. when you look back down at him, he's got two of his fingertips in his mouth, licking them clean. he stands up abruptly, it startles you a little. you see his bell ring. and he grabs you by the hips and leans down to your midriff.

"…I don't think I cleaned you off all the way earlier…" he breathes, and he starts to lap up the mess of his and your come that's been on you since this afternoon.

what the fuck. why is this so hot? why is he so hot? all too soon, your spent cock twitches in interest at your lover. he cups it with a hand, smiling against your tummy. you're so sensitive it hurts. you think you mean to say something, but nothing comes out.

"hmm…?" he bites his lip. "you still want some more?" all you can do is whine. at this point, you don't know if it's in protest or invitation.

you don't get the chance to find out either, because fuck, he's really going down on you now. you don't know what the fuck he's doing with his tongue, or where his gag reflex went, but at this rate you're gonna come again.

"George—George, baby, I—slow down, I-I'm—" you plead. his leash slips out of your hand, you tip your head back.

he swallows.

—

the last thing you remember is coming harder than you ever have in your life. you think you held him by his hair. you might've fucked his mouth a little. he's never let you come in his mouth before…fuck…

it's nighttime now. he's riding your thigh, got one of his legs slotted between yours. the friction between his knee and your overstimulated cock feels embarrassingly good. you're so dizzy, all you can articulate is a loud moan. you don't sound at all like you remember. his bell keeps ringing and ringing and ringing as he grinds against you.

he leans down, one arm holding your hip, the other keeping himself propped up. he bites your shoulder, hard, hard enough to bruise. he comes on both of your stomachs.

"George," you beg. you're losing your voice.

"mmmmmmsir," he slurs. "fuck me."

"George, I…" you don't know what you're saying. the end of your sentence turns into a whimper.

"you need me to get you hard again? you need me to rile you up?" he turns to kiss your jaw, feeling around for your dick. "like this?"

"George," you sound urgent, until he squeezes right around the head, and you forget what you were saying. you're pretty fucking close to forgetting who you are entirely.

he sits up on top of you, grinning. "love the way you say my name, sir."

that name. all it takes is the way he says that fucking name and you're ready to go again. you flip the two of you over, so that you're towering over him instead. "you still didn't. fucking. ask me. if you could come."

he giggles, a little crazed. he hooks his arms around his knees, hugging them to his chest.. "so what? so what? you gonna fuck me 'till I behave?"

"yes," you reach down, "I think I will." and you pull out the butt plug he (probably forgot he) had in all day.

"fuck—" he sobs. you watch his dick bob. precome drips into a pool on his stomach. "—green—green—so fucking green."

you're still sensitive from coming twice—you're pretty sure he is too. you lean down to give him a kiss, you moan into each other's mouths. he tastes like strawberries and his and your come. it is a little gross, you admit. but he's so tight and so fucking cute that you can't bring yourself to care. you part, and there's a line of salvia connecting the two of you.

"wait—" you say, but it comes out like a growl. "roll over."

he gets on his hands and knees, reaching back and spreading himself open for you. fuck.

you fuck him like that, holding the leash tight, loving the way he arches his back into the bed. the bell on his collar jingles incessantly.

you spank him, one last time.

"th-that's twenty-f-five—oh, fuck, sir," he growls, clinging on to the blankets for dear life.

you pin one of his hands in place and reach down to touch him. he starts laughing again.

"mmmmmmay I please come, sir? I—fuck—I'm so close, soclosesoclose," his breath stutters, you can hear the breaks in his voice. he buries his face in the blankets.

I'm close, you think, but the words don't make it out. "you're so good—you're so fucking good—come for me—fuck, come for me."

—

you're a mess. there's some drying solution of come and lube on your stomach. not to mention whatever the fuck's going on with your hair. your robe is discarded haphazardly on the floor. you think you've got a hickey, but you can't remember where.

actually, you're both a mess. he's also covered in come, sweat, and lube. he's got a red ring around his neck where you pulled him by the leash a little too hard. he's just covered in bruises. he clings to your arm, still fast asleep. you both passed out pretty quickly after…whatever that was, but you got back up a couple hours later. it doesn't look like he did, though.

actually, your whole bedroom is a mess. a blanket or two ended up discarded on the floor. there's an empty bottle of edible lube somewhere around here. your kitty lingerie set, still dirty, somehow ended up hanging in the closet. the first time you woke up you were both cuddling with a butt plug that you misplaced in the heat of the moment.

you don't think you've ever seen him like that. you can't even put it into words. you've never spanked him. he's never called you sir. you've never come in his mouth. he's never…begged for you like that before. you've never been so exhausted after coming that you both just, just fainted.

you feel lightheaded, and dead tired. you know you both must have gotten back up and gone at it at least a couple more times, but it's blurry, you can't remember. all you know is your vibrator's missing, and you feel…unusually empty, like you do the morning-after getting railed a little too hard.

last night…what the fuck happened last night?

you contemplate getting up, slipping your arm out of his embrace, pulling the covers back up around him, leaving to make breakfast. you're kind of disgusting, several hours after sex without cleaning up properly. you want to get yourselves some washcloths, maybe take shower together, or run him a bath. you know he's gotta be way more sore than you are.

you catch yourself staring, lost in thought; he just looks too cute when he's very clearly roughed up, but still sleeping soundly. and with the way he wanted…the way he needed you yesterday, you don't think he would want to wake up alone.

maybe it's okay if we sleep in a little longer.

you stroke his hair and whisper, "happy birthday, baby boy."

—

edited 14 March 2021

#limeade-zest #georgenotfound x reader #george x reader #george davidson x reader

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kaebedom-me · 4 years ago

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Bro your Cheaya college fic was amazing, 10/10 would read again But now I have a request for you, touch starved reader that thinks that the boys don't want them but those fuckers pick up on that shit and overstimulate the reader until their brain is mush. maybe some dp and some spit roasting (eye emoji) - simp anon

Welcome simp anon!!! Jejfjf thank you, i really needed that 🥺 Ok but sometimes it do be like that :(

This request is my JAM tho!!! [eye emoji] [eye emoji] [eye emoji]

I'd say it's pretty unlikely that the boys would let you feel this way?

Just cuz they're naturally very touchy

Ok but them when they're busy with stuff methinks that's when the ✨insecurities✨ and brain bs kicks in

Boy they pick up on it so quick too like one glance and they know you're bothered

They're really sweet umu obv asks you what's up first

When they find out that its because you've been feeling like you're not wanted or insecure, or neglected they're so heartbroken

Because they do love and want you very much!! Plus they think about you every second while they’re away from you

They immediately pull you into their arms. Squishing you between the two of them, drown you in reassurance and kisses your face, head, anywhere

They're a little panicked and feel so bad, like they kinda feel like they haven't been very good boyfriends if you’re doubting how much they want/ love you

Silently kissing you apologetically

If there’s something you’ve been dying to buy or like something you wanna do you should ask now because they will do anything for you right now LMaO they’re weAk

They just really want you to feel like you’re loved in this relationship ya know

You can't help but melt into their embrace when they’re just showering you with so much attention and reassurance

They'll know like when you're feeling better too, they'll snuggle you closer as you sigh happily

The three of you just bask in each other’s presence

Honestly, sex wouldn’t even cross their minds at that point? Their brains are working in over drive mode to make sure you’ll never feel that way again

When you start like moaning softly though as Childe nips at your absentmindedly while Kaeya is rubbing soothing circles around your thighs, they’ll immediately know what you want

Slowly pulls away and gets you to look them in the eye to make sure that this is what you want right now

They just don’t want you to feel like you’re being used in this relationship :(( they care you sm

You tell them you’re sure and they’d still be a little hesitant but they’ll indulge you with anything you ask right now because they want to spoil you rotten

Don’t mind sex? But will make it all about you. They want to spoil you rotten

Maybe engrave it into you that they love you very very much

They’ll overwhelm you with their love essentially

They’re so gentle while they’re giving you kisses and removing your clothes

A lot of body worshipping and praise as foreplay, they tell you how beautiful you are and how much they love every little thing about you

Expect really slow but deep fucking, as if they’re trying to fuck their love and want into you

You have to beg them to go faster, you also have to tell them exactly what you want because this is now about you

No teasing, none of their usual antics, you ask for something and they’ll comply with a “sure, baby” and a gentle kiss to your forehead

They’ll definitely overstimulate you but less as a rough punishment but more of them just really wanting you to remember this is how much they want you

They haven’t even pulled out their cocks and you’re probably on your 5th orgasm

Them holding hands with you 🥺🥺🥺🥺 because they think it’s really intimate

If one of them is busy using their mouth on you, the other will be giving you sweet compliments on how well you’re doing and how pretty you look

Also, a lot of I love yous!!! They won’t expect you to say it back but it’d make them happy to hear it

I think spit roasting you’d have to ask them for it, because right now it’s about you and your pleasure, but if it’s what you want to do then they’ll do it

Double penetration is a given though. They really just like double penetration? And you taking both of them at once right now is them wanting you to fuck their love into you

So much praise

“Darling, you’re taking us so well, aren’t you just the sweetest?”

“Do you feel good, sweetheart? You’re so good for us, baby, we love you so much.”

Both of them will come inside of you to make sure you feel how full you are

Your brain being mush is less from them fucking you good, more from them overwhelming you with affection

The aftercare will be the best you’ve ever had

Them taking turns cleaning and getting you things that you might need/ want because they don’t want to leave you on your own

Still giving you a lot of praises for doing so well, and asking if you’re feeling better and if there’s anything else they can do for you

Childe combing through you messy hair and giving your sleepy eyes light kisses while Kaeya wipes your body down with a damp wet cloth so you don’t feel icky the next morning

Cuddles!!! When they’re done cleaning up!! Because they live for you content face when you’re in between them being warm

Talks softly to soothe you into sleeping

Straight up takes days off from work for like a day or two so they can spend some time with you

#dlhdlf this came out softer than i expected #im sorry if you wanted like hard fucking and i ended making this so soft #i just- am soff #not sfw #spicy #childe #childe x reader #childe x reader x kaeya #kaeya #kaeya x reader #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia #simp nonnie #shanna writes

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artichow · 3 years ago

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for the character bingo how about the dss trio (tobio, ryutaro, and tetsuya)! hate how they were pushed off to the side there was a lot of potential with these three methinks

I think I already did them but why not they're really not my favourite characters at all im sorry :(

THE CRAB MAN: still gives me the creeps. I don't like him. Get him out of here I hate him. We used to joke about him with my brother because of how ridiculous and creepy he was, but really I'm still just tdafdgbkj about him I just don't like him at all

SNIPER MAN: I mean, I think his blond curly hair is kinda weird and his face too. I don't like the way he's eating that damn lollipop. But his character isn't that bad, I like his fighting style, even if it gets a little old at some point, but it has potential! And also his bey is one of the prettiest in all of fusion, the colors are just *chef's kiss*

FUTURE MAN: He's cool, I like his character and his arc in fusion a lot!! Also I don't know if I already said this on here but I find it really funny and ironic that when he battles Ryuga he says "You're way too arrogant, it will be you downfall" or something like that and guess what that idiot did in fury... battling a litteral god all alone feels pretty arrogant to me. Anyway, I think he's a lot more interesting than Dynamis, he has a lot more personnality and I really like how he learned that it is possible to defy our fate. He should totally have been utilized more, especially in fury!!

so to conclude, I don't like them that much, the crab man can die for all I care, but the other two are alright, their personalities should have been expended on more, but their style of fighting are really interesting

#thank you for the askk #mfb #sorry maybe i'm too brutal #in my defense it's 37 degrees and i'm feeling warm and delirious so blame the heatwave ig

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nordleuchten · 4 years ago

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Hi ! Facts about the Lafayette couple. Thanks.

Hello Anon,

well, well, the La Fayette couple, Adrienne and Gilbert - where to even begin with these two? Their marriage was arranged and arranged marriages were very common for the time and people of their position. A family with wealth, a title and influence was keen on preserving all of this – and tried to add to it by trying to arranging marriages with families who as well had at least one of these things. A truly popular combination was a family with a great name/title that had fallen on hard times and a very rich family without too great a name. Now, La Fayette and Adrienne were lucky in so far as that they really loved each other. Their marriage was far more than pure convenience. Still, not everything was picture perfect. La Fayette had different mistresses and although he loved Adrienne, I always feel like it took him quite some time to realise just how wonderful Adrienne truly was, how loyal and devoted. It was not entirely uncommon that a man and a women in an arranged marriage barely know each other prior to their marriage. That again was different with La Fayette and Adrienne. La Fayette actually lived with his future in-laws together in their house prior to the marriage. Behind the scenes everything had already been sorted out, but the bride and the groom were still none the wiser (although La Fayette was told before Adrienne was told). Partly responsible for this living-arrangement was Adrienne’s mother, the Duchess d’Ayen. She was the metaphorical lioness protecting her cubs. She was fiercely protective of her daughters and thought that Adrienne was still way too young. So La Fayette moved in with them, they had some time to get to know each other and to mature a bit. La Fayette also won over the Duchess, who was a bit skeptical at first.

When La Fayette and Adrienne finally married, she was fourteen and he was sixteen. Their marriage contract stated that they should continue to live with Adrienne’s family and that their marriage was not be consumed for some time. This rule again was included due to the input of the Duchess – who still thought her daughter way too young for any martial endeavours. Regardless of that, Adrienne became pregnant with the couples first child during this proposed period – the popular opinion is, that La Fayette after some time simply wanted to be with Adrienne and sneaked into her room (something that he supposedly confessed to later in life). Whatever happened, they both seemed quite happy.

When La Fayette departed for America, Adrienne was completely clueless, she said that herself but there is also circumstancel evidence to support her statement. She had a young and sickly daughter to look after, a daughter that would die a few months later when La Fayette was still in America. She furthermore was pregnant with their second child and Paris was on fire with rumours. Newspapers printed rumours about La Fayette’s death on the field or something similar every other day and she often had no possibility of hearing from her husbands for months and months (before La Fayette’s first return to France they had not heard from one another for roughly eight months). The news of the death of their oldest child Henriette reached La Fayette so late that he send Adrienne many letters asking about Henriette, asking if she was well, long after Henriette was deceased. But despite all of it, Adrienne put up a brave face in public and never complaint. In general, whether she agreed with her husband or nor, weather she liked what he did or not, she never criticised him in public, never embarrassed or questioned him in front of others.

After the conclusion of the war in America La Fayette and Adrienne together with their children moved into their own home. They were, for people of their time and status, very engaged parents. They started hosting their “American Dinners” on Mondays and Adrienne was also included in La Fayette’s “Plantation-Project”. La Fayette kept a lively correspondence with George Washington but Adrienne also exchanged letters with Washington. There is one lovely, humours account by Washington in a letter to La Fayette dated September 30, 1779:

“(...) But at present must pray your patience a while longer, till I can make a tender of my most respectful compliments to the Marchioness. Tell her (if you have not made a mistake, & offered your own love instead of hers to me) that I have a heart susceptable of the tenderest passion, & that it is already so strongly impressed with the most favourable ideas of her, that she must be cautious of putting loves torch to it; as you must be in fanning the flame. But here again methinks I hear you say, I am not apprehensive of danger—My wife is young—you are growing old & the atlantic is between you—All this is true, but know my good friend that no distance can keep anxious lovers long asunder, and that the Wonders of former ages may be revived in this—But alas! will you not remark that amidst all the wonders recorded in holy writ no instance can be produced where a young Woman from real inclination has prefered an old Man—This is so much against me that I shall not be able I fear to contest the prize with you—yet, under the encouragement you have given me I shall enter the list for so inestimable a jewell.”

This is just such a funny, carefree, teasing letter between the three of them. Its adorable. But these carefree times soon came to an end with the onset of the French Revolution (you could argue that the Revolution had already begun long prior to 1789 but in that year it rapidly gained speed).

La Fayette entangled himself in the political and military matters of the day and when everything started to go down the hill (from his perspective at least) he tried to fled to America and got caught before he even could reach a harbour. Adrienne and the children stayed behind in France. Now, it had became some sort of custom that the women of (aristocrat) man who fled France during the Revolution “divorced” her husbands. (“Divorce” because these divorces were often not real civil divorces in accordance with the law but more a sort of public separation from their “treacherous and anti-republican” husbands that could get these women a passport and/or out of prison. It also opened them the opportunity to marry again later in life.) Somebody proposed a divorce to Adrienne and she was absolutely repelled by the idea. She had married La Fayette for better and for worse and she would not, not under any circumstance divorce her husband. Period. In fact, she started signing all her papers with “la femme de Lafayette”, “the wife of Lafayette”. After and eventful and fearful time, Adrienne was eventually released from her prison in France. She gathered her two daughters (her son was safe in America with his tutor) and went to Austria were La Fayette was still imprisoned in Olmütz. She had some family connections to the court in Vienna and eventually obtained the permission of sharing her husbands imprisonment. Although accounts vary, all accounts agree that Olmütz was a true hell-hole. Adrienne and her children were treated better than La Fayette - but the treatment was still not good. Soon Adrienne became ill and the prison doctor could not really do anything. Adrienne was told that she was free to go, leave this place behind, find a good doctor, settle down somewhere more comfortable. Nobody wanted to see her suffer or even die. The only stipulation, if she would leave now she was not allowed to ever return – and with that Adrienne stayed and suffered and hasted her death because she would not leave her husband behind. In my opinion her sacrifice at that moment made La Fayette understand just how incredible his wife was. He never forgot what she endured for him and her actions probably lead their relationship to unknown heights.

After they were eventually all released from prison they settled first in Danish-Holstein and then in the Netherlands before returning to France. Adrienne managed to regain a lot of the property that they had previously lost during the Revolution. Although she was successful in that regard, her health (and beauty) was forever ruined. Despite all that she took great joy in seeing her children marry and becoming a grandmother. When Adrienne died on December 24, 1807 La Fayette was absolutely shattered. He wrote a very, very long and very, very sad letter to a friend, retelling Adrienne’s last days and expressing his grieve:

“As yet you have always found me stronger than circumstances, but now this event is stronger than me. Never shall I recover from it. During the thirty - four years of an union in which her tenderness, her goodness, the elevation of her mind, charmed, adorned, honoured my life, I felt myself so used to all that she was to me, that I could not distinguish it from my own existence. She was fourteen, and I was sixteen, when her heart amalgamated itself with everything that could interest me. I knew I loved her, I knew I needed her, but it is only now that I can distinguish what life which I had thought was to have been entirely devoted to worldly matters. (...)”

The letter is really long but so worth the read if you are interested. Really! It is such an honest, open, affectionate and reflected statement of their relationship. Adrienne’s last words were “Je suis toute à vous” (I am all yours) and La Fayette had these words inscribed on a miniature of Adrienne that he constantly had upon his person. Here is an account of the portrait from Jules Germain Cloquets book “Recollections of the Private Life of General Lafayette, etc”:

“In his children he cherished the memory of their mother, (Mademoiselle de Noailles,) whom he had loved most tenderly, and whose name he never mentioned but with visible emotion. One day during his last illness, I surprised him kissing her portrait, which he always wore suspended to his neck in a small gold medallion. Around the portrait were the words, “Je suis à vous ,” and on the back was engraved this short and touching inscription, “ Je vous fus donc une douce compagne: eh bien ! benissez moi .” I have since been informed that regularly every morning Lafayette ordered Bastien [his valet] to leave the room, in which he shut himself up, and taking the portrait in both hands, looked at it earnestly, pressed it to his lips, and remained silently contemplating it for about a quarter of an hour. Nothing was more disagreeable to him than to be disturbed during this daily homage to the memory of his virtuous partner.”

I hope you have/had an awesome day!

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bluesfortheredj · 4 years ago

Text

Green eyed monster.

The flat was dark and quiet as you step inside and shut the door softly behind you, and you knew that Ben was hiding in here somewhere which made you jumpy. You flick the switch for the lights but he’d turned them off from the fuse box to give him an unfair advantage, and you audibly groan at the realisation that he’s definitely cheating.

“That’s not fair!” you call out into the darkness, but of course Ben wasn’t one to play fair so what did you expect?

There’s no noise as you tentatively step further into the flat as quietly as you possibly can in an attempt to not get scared shitless by your best mate, and as you approach the kitchen you press your back against the wall and slide along it until you can peek around the corner to check no one was inside.

“For fuck’s sake Ben, we’re going to be late for the party, can you just come out already please?” you ask as your eyes move from the kitchen to the lounge, looking for any sign of movement.

Yet more silence greets you and you know he’s not going to give up that easily; he was determined to scare you before the two of you went to the party and you were already less than impressed with the inevitable outcome of this game. You enter the living room and squint into the darkness before bumping into the side board, then you hear a short shuffle before feeling hands on your waist which makes you scream out loud.

“Gotcha!” Ben laughs.

“Get off of me you absolute dickhead,” you half scold, half laugh.

Ben continues laughing at your reaction as he walks out and down the hall to flick the switch for the lights back on, and suddenly you’re shielding your eyes from the bright light that’s now flooding the lounge. He comes back into the room and you get to see his costume for the first time; a pinstripe suit and a matching bat shaped bow tie just like his muse Jack Skellington.

“What do you think?” he asks, noticing you looking him up and down.

“Brilliant,” you smile.

“You haven’t put much effort in with the sexy witch costume though,” Ben tuts before rolling his eyes.

“It’s just a regular witch costume you idiot! But thanks for the compliment.”

Ben winks at you then the doorbell rings and you jump once more much to his amusement.

“That’ll be Joe. You ready?” he checks, and you nod in response.

You’d heard and seen a lot about Joe but never had the pleasure of meeting him until now thanks to Ben’s insistence that the two of you finally get introduced, and you were quite excited about the prospect of it all after seeing what a fun guy he appeared to be. Ben buzzes him up and opens the door ready for his arrival while you stand there straightening out your dress and trying to act casual.

“Come here you!” Joe greets Ben, quickly pulling him into a tight hug, “now where’s the infamous (Y/N)?”

You wave as his eyes scan the room before landing on you, and he’s just as friendly with you as he was with Ben; striding over and giving you a cuddle along with a kiss on the cheek as he says hello.

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you,” he smiles as he pulls back, “I feel like I already know you with how much Ben has told me though.”

“And you too! All good things I hope...”

“Could it be anything other than good?” he winks, “I must say though, he didn’t warn me about how beautiful you are, and I’m quite taken aback.”

You giggle at his compliment and look away, “oh, stop!”

Ben rolls his eyes again before interrupting, “right, shall we get going then?”

Both you and Joe nod then all head out for the chilly walk to a friend’s house a few streets away and although you’re huddled against Ben, the conversation you have with Joe barely seems to stop and the poor blonde you’re holding on to doesn’t get a word in edge ways. You squeeze his arm comfortingly during the walk but when you arrive at the party you have to part to greet the hosts, and once you’ve caught up with people you hadn’t seen in a while you’re soon at Joe’s side as he regales you with stories about his time with Ben.

“You two are usually joined at the hip,” your friend Alex points out as he comes up beside Ben and hands him a fresh drink, “what’s going on here?”

“Don’t,” he sighs, “I’ve been going on about these two meeting for so long and now it’s happened I’m not entirely sure it was a good idea.”

“But they seem to be getting along well!”

“Too well,” Ben grumbles.

“Ah, so you’re jealous.”

“Jealous? Ha! No… definitely not… jealous? Nah…”

“The man doth protest too much, methinks.”

This was an unusual feeling for Ben, especially when it came to you, but then when he thought about it he’d never actually seen you with a guy before and you’d always kept any relationships away from him even though you were so close. He sips his drink slowly as his eyes flick from your face to Joe’s while the two of you laugh in the corner, and there’s a feeling right in the pit of his stomach that’s shouting out for him to go over and interrupt so he can get you all to himself. It was a selfish thought but this sudden wave of jealousy was bringing all sorts of thoughts into his mind which he’d never had to deal with when it came to you.

“So what are you going to do about it?” Alex presses, noticing Ben’s hard stare.

“Nothing… yet.”

Ben keeps his distance for the rest of the night, letting you and Joe get to know one another better as he himself had insisted on, and tries his best to enjoy the Halloween party despite being able to fully let himself go with you on his mind. He works his way around the room until he catches your eye to give you a small wave, then you gesture for him to join you both now that the night was nearing the end.

“You two had fun?” he asks.

“You lied to me about (Y/N),” Joe frowns, “you said she was probably one of the best people you know, but I have to say that there should be no ‘probably’ about it.”

“Yeah, I’d agree that I made a mistake there,” Ben nods, looking over at you, “wanna get out of here?”

You nod and the three of you exit the party and begin the even colder walk back to Ben’s flat while Joe phones for a taxi to take him back to the hotel, then by the time you reach your destination there’s already a cab waiting. Joe takes far too long to say goodbye to you in Ben’s opinion and he narrows his eyes a little when you laugh at something Joe says before he gives you yet another hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“See you tomorrow!” he waves as he gets into the taxi.

“Tomorrow?” Ben questions as you walk into the block of flats.

“I said we’d all go for lunch.”

“You sure he didn’t want it to just be the two of you?” Ben scoffs.

You turn to look at him once you get through the front door and smirk, “is that a little jealousy I hear?”

“Pfft,” he dismisses.

“It is isn’t it?!”

“It’s not.”

“Okay, so you wouldn’t mind if just I went then? I mean we were getting on so well tonight, he’s such a funny guy and very complimentary-”

“I would mind,” he cuts you off, “I would mind a lot because bloody hell (Y/N) you’re my best friend but I really want to be more.”

You stand in a stunned silence and slowly slip your witches hat from your head so you could see him a little better, then he shrugs and walks off into the other room and leaves the words hanging in the air in front of you.

“Hey, Jack Skellington, you can’t just drop a bomb like that and walk away… you didn’t even give me a chance to respond.”

He turns slowly but avoids your gaze.

“And what would your response be?”

You laugh and shake your head with how embarrassing your next words would be, “this is super cheesy… but… it is plain as anyone could see, we’re simply meant to be.”

Ben breaks into a grin at your quote from the nightmare before christmas then steps towards you and envelops you into a tight hug, “that was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard, and I absolutely love it.”

if you could write something about ben having a best friend (that he’s obviously in love with!) that he really wants to become friends with joe. but they end up getting along very well, much more than ben thought. and that makes him veeery jealous, which is a new feeling for him & a first day of fall/halloween type fluff with ben – @rosesvioletshardy

@lv7867 @aynsleywalker @pink-lemo @painthatiusedto @itisjustmethistime @mamaskillerqueen @queenslandlover-93

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fluff

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saintheartwing · 3 years ago

Text

Breaking Dawn, Pt. 3: Rise of the Red Helm

She was a normal, good solider. She truly was.

But she couldn't help but notice something wasn't...right...with her world.

She saw things...tolerated. Things that she could not stand. And she grew to despise these things. She didn't understand why they existed.

Until she met it. The crack. The rip. The Schism.

As she looked into it, knowledge ripped through her mind like a tidal wave, and she understood all. Understood what she was. Where she was. What she was meant to be.

And she realized now why she could not tolerate those things. Those...vermin.

She swore to destroy them.

They were all nothing more than robotic bugs.

And she...was going to make sure...everybody knew this.

Breaking Dawn, Part Three RISE OF THE RED HELM

The experience was...enlightening beyond anything he'd ever experienced. Simultaneously intoxicating and exhilarating, a breath of fresh air after years, YEARS of being locked away in the damp and the dark, beautiful...so damn beautiful.

And then that experience ended, and he was vaguely aware of a spectral, ghostly form gently patting him on one shoulder, a smile spreading across a draconic face with sweet, kindly eyes, black with a faint tint of green at the bottom, and pupils like a shining star. It spread it's wings over him, his Lord, his God, speaking in a voice so harmonious that the very words uttered from its mouth threatened to annihilate his very existence with their divinity. He was standing in the presence of sacred fire, and like Zeus before the average mortal, it was a wonder he could endure it and wasn't being burnt up.

"You're different...from most of the others." It told him. "...I think I could tolerate you more. You've got the seeds of real potential in you, my host. Are you prepared?"

"P-prepared f-for what?" Senior asked, stuttering nervously as Sude smiled broadly.

"I have need of you for a mission. I'll hide away within you...be only visible TO you, audible to you. Return to your charge, the once called Maht. I'll explain when you've returned to the ship you call your home." Sude informed him, wrapping his immense wings and powerful arms around him, almost sinking into his body. Senior gasped, patting his chest, his stomach, his arms...

The Irken in him was astounded, frightened, confused. This being wasn't an Irken! It was skaatel, it was...

Yet...the power...the sheer, awe-inspiring beauty that had filled his form...that had been more enjoyable than anything he'd ever felt. He'd felt tiny doses of it, listening to Earthen music...those quiet moments from the past with the two beings he had loved, were he capable of love. Pure happiness...that was it. Unbridled joy.

He WANTED to feel that again, above all else. And if he did what this thing asked of him, he might be able to feel it again. He would have done ANYTHING to feel it.

So he exited the restroom, heading back in Maht's direction as the service drone helped somebody back up from the ground, they'd tripped and had dropped all of their merchandise and Maht was putting it back in their cart for them. "You're very helpful, sir." The half-Irken, half-Vortian admitted as Senior stood by Maht, who nodded cheerily at the Vortken.

Senior nervously gulped. He didn't REALLY have anything personal against ANY Vortians or other species. His PAK had, after all, been encoded in a time when other species had been allies to the Empire, when it had been considerably less bullying, conquering not with cruelty, but with a kiss, a time when all the Irken race had wanted was for all beings to speak Irken, know Irken culture, trade with Irk, and it wasn't like there weren't perks to this...

Still, he was slightly...uncomfortable around half-breeds, or "mongrels". Most Irkens had sexual organs deeply embedded, useless like a human appendix. Stored deep inside, never to be used. Ignored. What crazy lunatics would undergo the procedure to bring those organs out and...and breed with other beings? It seemed so...barbaric!

He tried to summon up a smile and gave a half-hearted chuckle at the Vortken as he turned to Maht, pointing at an invisible watch on his wrist. "Methinks it's time we find the others and meet up for lunch. Let's head to the food district."

Making their way out of the warehouse and through the streets, Maht examined a magazine he'd bought, entitled "Irken Weekly". The headlines were quite attention-grabbing. "Resisty Rocks: Irken Resistance Movement gains in the Pollls Through Popular Programming", "How to style your lekku"-

EWWWW. People could PIERCE that part of the body? YECCCH.

Wait. What was this? "The Red Helm Strikes Again".

Red Helm?

Senior frowned. He'd heard reports about this "Red Helm" lately, this vigilante being that stalked the streets of Irk. People had a tendency to DIE if they crossed his path. Die horribly. Most of the time nobody was able to find all of the pieces of whatever poor soul had met the Red Helm in some dark, dingy alley. The only thing the victims had in common seemed to be that they had all been members of the Irken military.

What neither Maht nor Senior knew was that several miles away, in an underground bunker, Irken commanders of the local military were all discussing their latest problems, which could be summed up quite easily in one sentence.

"HE'S KILLING EVERYONE!"

Fists slammed onto a table as dozens of armed guards stood by the exits below a catwalk, the commanders sitting around a circular table. The Irken who'd shouted shook his slightly hexagonal head back and forth. "I had thought that we'd be able to put a lid on the media...why are they being allowed to report this?"

"We've TRIED, sir, but they keep moving locations. And word-of-mouth is spreading the news about the Red Helm like wildfire."

"You called us here because you've got a plan, haven't you?" Another commander asked, one of nearly black skin, eyes steely and cold as he steepled his gloved claws.

"No, I did not." The man from before mumbled, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair, scowling behind his Elite mask. "I thought it was you. You've lost five officers, haven't you?"

"Today it makes six. SIX! Some of my best people."

"Oh, screw this." Another captain spoke up, standing up from the chair. "I'm done here. You brain donors wanna stick around-"

"Siddown, Captain Kroonch." A low, growling voice snarled out from atop the catwalk, as a being stepped out into the light, resting black-gloved hands upon the railing. It was a being dressed in black and red armor, a large red breastplate upon his chest with two spiky wings hanging low from his shoulder blades, with a horned helm. Two curled down the side of it's head like a ram, with a final spike jutting up from the forehead. It appeared as though the Red Helm had decided to make a personal appearance, and he was every bit as imposing as they'd heard.

His soulless red eyes blazed down at them as they felt a faint smile make it's way through the helmet that covered his head. "You've all authorized a recent...campaign. A secret one. Targeting defectives. You thought nobody would find OUT?" He growled. "Nobody reports the death of poor defectives. But poor soldiers dying in the line of duty? Oh, THAT sells."

"You ASKING to die?" The dark-skinned commander snarled. "There are easier ways of doing it!"

"Yeah, like yelling at the lunatic that's eviscerated every single military idiot he's come across with his hands alone." The Red Helm laughed darkly, shutting him up. "Now you tell me. Your hired killer. The one leaving bodies for yours truly to find and give respect...the name. I want the name."

"..." The Irkens at the table all looked around at each other. "...we're not telling you ANYTHING." One of the captains growled, pointing accusingly at the Red Helm.

The Red Helm's eyes narrowed as it pointed it's palm at the captain, a red circle glowing on it's palm as a burning blast of red energy shot clear through the air, snatching the captain up.

He barely had time to scream.

"That...is going to be all of you...unless you start talking." The Red Helm asked as everyone stepped away from Mr. Friz's head, Mr. Friz's right hand, Mr. Friz's left leg...heck, EVERYONE had a little piece of Mr. Friz to take home for a souvenir now.

"Earth culture's rather primitive, but it appears as though they're right about one thing...military intelligence truly IS an oxymoron. You're all really so dumb that you'll choose your empire over self-preservation? Yeah, just what your commanders taught you to. Mine..."

His eyes narrowed. "For me...it was different. As my commander lay DYING in front of me because of a mistake the Empire made, I realized then I didn't really give two shits what the higher-ups thought because as far as they were concerned, I was just cannon fodder. We're ALL just cannon fodder. I might actually be doing you a favor, giving you all quick deaths here..." The vigilante spoke quietly, dangerously, eyes glimmering as he raised his gloved hand high. "I promised him to make people like you pay...and, well...you should NEVER break a promise." The helmeted being said calmly.

"Wiyn! Her name's Wiyn!" The black-skinned Irken immediately blabbed out, Mr. Friz's intestinal tract f his squeedly-spooch dangling off his head. "She's an Elite Grunt! Dark olive green skin and even darker green eyes!" The commander squealed, covering his head with his arms. "We gave her the list of known defects three months ago!"

"Well...that wasn't so hard, was it?" The Red Helm said cheerily, clapping his hands as he began to shrink back into the shadows. "Just remember...I'm watching...and I'm waiting for you to slip up again. If you send another one of her out there...you're dead."

With that, it was gone, and the little makeshift military tribunal looked around at each other, wondering what they'd unleashed.

...

...it wasn't long before all of Senior's charges were sitting at a table at "Deep Fried Dan's Diner". Everything that wasn't fried and buttered was swimming in gravy, just the way most of them liked it.

"Hey, where's my sly-doo-dee-doo?" Dite wanted to know, shouting furiously as he banged his fist on the table. The head chef pulled out a smoking...THING...from a furnace, holding it aloft on a prong, and calmly fake-ran through the diner, holding the burning thing high and humming the theme to the Olympics as he deposited it on Dite's plate. "...I'll be grateful when this "Earth" fad is over." Dite mumbled.

Yes, everybody had ordered something that would surely give them heart attacks...save for Feyr, who had decided to simply have some potato chips. Lots of them.

"I think your hand is becoming translucent." Xeil mumbled as the pink-eyed consular stuffed more and more into his mouth, hungrily gobbling the chips down, pieces of the chips spraying out over a dark, steely-grey table. "So much GREASE."

"Like your deep-fried Blorblegax Breast has any less." Feyr muttered out in between mouthfuls, slurping down his meal with some orange soda. "My, you're awfully hungry today, sir, if you do not mind me saying so." He added, looking at Senior as his taller hungrily wolfed down cheesy nachos. "It reminds me of the prisoners in our holding cells, they're so starved it's like they're eating for two!" He tapped his lip. "That reminds me, has anybody seen the latest "Irk Weekly"? There's been more and more captures of Resisty supporters on this planet, they're becoming AWFULLY popular for such a stupidly-named group."

"It's the theme song." Senior reasoned as he swallowed the last of his nachos, noticing the television above the bar had been turned on to the very show so the waitress and other patrons could see what the big deal was. "It's just so friggin' hard to not like."

The world is a vampire...sent to draaaa-aaaa-aaaaain!

"Yeah, we're badass." The grey-skinned, horned being named Lard Nar said as he addressed the camera, his green-goggled eyes catching the light of a passing sun as their ship soared through the stars.

Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage!

"Of COURSE you're gonna get sucked in after THAT." Senior insisted, waving his hand at the television as the show started.

"HEY!" The orange-eyed female smacked Maht's hand away from her tray, baring sharp teeth. "MINE!"

"Well, it appears as though the Resisty are doing a raid, a LIVE raid upon..." Jayd's eyes widened as he trailed off.

Wait. Was that...

"...is that...the alley behind this diner?" The waitress asked as Lard Nar grinned into the camera.

"Perception filters. New! Improved! We're practically invisible here we see the BEAUTIFUL capital city of Irk! So much culture! So many Irkens!...we're gonna blow this diner up." The Vortian laughed. "Mostly for kicks and giggles."

"Everybody out of the diner, NOW!" Jayd yelled out, eyes widening as he turned to see-

Senior was gone. What the?

No, wait. He was now on the television, facing down the Resisty, two familiar pistols...well, familiar for Maht, anyhow, held high. "Stop the countdown." He demanded. "I am giving you fair warning, this is the kindest I can be to known rebels like you."

"...hello...big "N"." Lard Nar said quietly. "...been a a while, huh?"

"...stop this, Nar." Senior said. "I'm sorry we blamed your people for Spork and Miyuki, I AM, but if your kind keeps resisting, you'll keep suffering more."

"We'll suffer no matter what your kind do unless WE do something about it. So...no. stop what we're doing?...we can't do that. And...we WON'T." Lard Nar spoke, looking squarely at the Irken as his men vanished, teleporting away one by one, only he and a hooded Vortian remaining. "In ten seconds it goes ka-blooey. What can I say? I LIKE it when things go ka-boom." With that, Lard Nar stuck out his tongue, giving a loud raspberry.

"I SAID STOP IT, YOU STUPID-!" Senior yelled, his PAK suddenly popping a tiny jet engine out from the end. He raced through the air right at Lard Nar...

But the hooded Vortian tackled him, and they were sent flying out of the alley as Lard Nar teleported to safety, the rest of the bar patrons running as fast as they could out of the diner before it could-

It was like an enormous sparkling blue dome rose up from the back of the diner, encasing everything within a 100-foot radius. It sizzled and sparked, the others watching, eyes wide...until at last, the dome faded...and everything that had been within it was...just gone. GONE. As if it had never been.

"...don't suppose anyone has a portable television on them?" Dite asked calmly.

Jayd pulled out a small, scanner-shaped object from his belt, and it "pinged" as it came to life. He tuned it to the right channel with small little dials on either side of the portable TV before finally finding the broadcast of the Resisty...and a message was going out by a hooded being wearing blue. She appeared to be standing before a large poster of the Resisty's that showed them all muscular and buff, with a faint light emanating to the right-hand-side of whatever room she was in.

"Greetings, planet Irk." A vaguely feminine voice crooned, a voice disguise filter keeping her real voice from being heard. "I am the Wing, who shields the Resisty. We are the new hope for this galaxy. Hope for a brighter future. Hope for a better world for all. We are willing...to allow Irk to become a part of that in exchange for it's surrender."

She gestured to the right, towards the soft light and the camera now focused on something that had manifested in an enormous storage bay...the diner that had just vanished, people being paraded out...not merely that, there were other buildings captured as well.

"They're TELEPORTALS. Miniature stations that send whomever's captured up to the Resisty!" Xeil realized. "Damnit, they've gotten smarter."

"We shall indoctrinate those captured, and they'll learn our ways...support our cause. If you seek a better life, you are free to seek us out. Defectives of Irk...those who desire more, remember...there is ALWAYS hope." The Wing insisted as the broadcast came to an end and they all looked around at each other.

"...always...hope? Well, they've not gotten any less corny." Dite laughed.

Meanwhile, Senior was grappling with the hooded Vortian in midair, spinning around and around, his PAK sending them higher and higher. "Stop this!" He demanded. "If you don't surrender now, we'll most likely BOTH die! Surrender and I'll spare your life, little Vortian!"

"I'd sooner die than be an Irken slave, you SCUM!" The Vortian spat in his face, trying to scratch him with her pointed nails. He grabbed her wrist, angrily glaring at her as a faint white light glimmered off his body.

"You will SLEEP now." Sude's voice came out of Senior's mouth. "I shan't let you harm my host."

The Vortian woman stiffened, eyes widening beneath the hood before she passed out in an instant, Senior looking stupidly down at what he had in his arms. "Did...did YOU do that?" He asked Sude.

"A, how shall I say this...fringe benefit." It told him. "I will do EVERYTHING to keep you from death."

Senior turned himself back towards the city, heading towards his charges, prisoner held carefully in his arms. "Well, this could work out even better than I thought..." He mused to himself as he touched down to where the others were. "Feyr, you're the one who deals with prisoners. Bring her back to the Massive, whilst I write up a report on what's occurred."

With that, the gang split up anew...nobody noticing where Dite was walking off too.

Nobody...save for Senior.

...

...vermin. All of them. Filthy vermin.

She hissed to herself, leaping from roof to roof, the stars shimmering overhead. Nighttime had fallen over her city. HER city. Hers and hers alone, for people like her.

And they weren't anything like the vermin she was hunting. She finally caught sight of him as she leaned on her knees by the edge of a high-speed monorail, eyes narrowing beneath the pink hood she wore. Dark shorts, shoulder guards, black gloves...Elite Grunt Wiyn was ready, and waiting...waiting...almost there...

She leapt down at him, laughing. "Riddle me this! What's pink and maroon, but covered in dark green?"

THWOMP!

"YOU!" She laughed, calmly getting off the terrified Invader as she pulled out a small electro-knife, lightning crackling from its tip. "When I land upon your sorry, wasteful behind."

"Wh-what do you want?" It whimpered, blue eyes widening in horror.

"Well...your eyes. And then your life." Wiyn explained calmly, her knees pinning the Irken invader to the ground below as she held the knife to the vermin's eye. "You can help me send defects like you a message."

KRAKKA-THROOOOM!

Wiyn was knocked through the air by a shotgun blast of power as the Invader "eeped", staring at his unlikely savior...the Red Helm himself, who lowered a smoking hand, balefully glaring at Wiyn as she rose from out of the trash cans she'd knocked into. "Well?...what's the message?" He growled.

"A SIMPLE one, actually. CARE TO GUESS?" Wiyn whined, tossing the knife away, pulling out two powerful-looking pistols as her PAK opened up, her arachnid-esque mechanical legs making her rise into the air like an armed spider. She grinned darkly, racing towards the Red Helm, firing away at him as the Invader she'd been terrorizing ran for his life, the Red Helm leaping away from her, spinning through the air.

She jumped after him, continuing to fire as he raced up the wall of a nearby armory, finally jumping off and slamming his booted feet into her face, knocking her back and forcing her hood down, revealing curled antennae and a horrid scowl. Deciding that the pistols just weren't cutting it, she snapped her fingers, two long blades sheathing out of the PAK as she raced towards the Red Helm, slashing and slicing as he danced away, trying to avoid her.

Unfortunately one hard PAK leg caught him under the chin and sent him flying into the wall. He panted heavily, some blood dribbling down from his helmet as he growled at her, a faint, spectral image momentarily appearing behind him. "So...you have all this power and all you do is kill people with it?"

"DEFECTIVES. Not "people"." Wiyn growled.

"That schmuck back there only had blue eyes!" The Red Helm snapped. "Who GIVES a flying-"

"Ido! They should be red! Or purple! Or green! Or brown! Anything else is DEFECTIVE! And you...I can clearly tell YOU'RE defective. Personalizing such a gaudy outfit." Wiyn hissed, spinning her blades in a circular pattern.

"Oh, you view ANY sign of creativity as defectiveness, huh? Bite me."

"I DON'T MIND IF I DO!" She laughed, snapping her jaws and racing at him as he managed to leap away again, pointing a palm at her, a blast of blazing red power slamming into her back and knocking her into a dumpster, making her screech in pain. "Did you look into the Schism too, then?" She mused quietly. "Your outfit's beyond simple defectiveness."

"...no." The Red Helm said calmly. "I've been bound to a superior being. But I know of what you speak." He admitted. "Reality is bursting at the seams, right? But I don't really care. I'm just interested in getting even with everybody in a uniform. You couldn't find a better piece of scum than people like them...like the people who gave you up to save their own hides!" The helmeted Irken laughed, thrusting two arms forward, sweeping bands of red energy pinning Wiyn to the ground as he approached her, cracking his knuckles.

"Oh, yes, I heard from them. They had to be disposed of." She remarked calmly.

"You KILLED them for telling on you?" The Red Helm asked. "No honor among thieves, eh?"

"I am putting the good of the empire before my own life in dealing with defectives. They could have tried to do the same. Self-preservation over the Empire? Unacceptable." Wiyn said, suddenly bursting free of the bands that held her down and kicking the Red Helm in the gut, making him keel over and vulnerable to a powerful uppercut that launched him through the air.

The Red Helm panted as he lay on the ground, groaning as Wiyn approached, one PAK leg held high. "I thought you'd put up more of an effort."

Suddenly the Red Helm was not an Irken at all. Now he was a towering brute, head spiked and red eyes a-glow as a bladed tail swept back and forth and muscular arms gripped a surprised Wiyn tightly. "Oh tHiS iSn'T a FiGhT. It Is A sImPlE sLaUgHtEr." The thing laughed.

"PUT ME DOWN!" Wiyn snapped. "PUT MY AMAZINGLY SUPERIOR SELF-"

Wiyn didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. The thing launched her through the air, clapping imaginary dust off it's clawed hands as it reverted back to the Red Helm, who sighed.

"She'll be back, no doubt."

"I shall be waiting, then. I'm sorry you can't stay here to finish the job yourself, but don't worry. Next time she shows up, I'll have a party waiting for her. And when I say PARTY, I mean a whole lotta people that are gonna kill her DEAD!" The Entity of Rage laughed darkly.

Senior's eyes widened as Sude whispered for him to be quiet. "It is him. Chulainn. Entity of Rage."

"There are others like you?" Senior thought back at his host.

"Oh yes. Several of them." Sude said. "And I could vaguely sense them here on Irk. I imagine they've all bonded with hosts the way I've bonded with you."

"...maybe it's time...you tell me where you're from." Senior whispered.

"I heard that, Senior." Dite the Elite roared out, turning his head in Senior's direction as the Entity of Rage manifested by HIS charge. Senior frowned, stepping out of the alleyway, his own Entity hovering nearby.

"Well...well." Chulainn murmured, red eyes a-glitter, muscular arms folded over his chest. "If it isn't Puff the Magic Dragon...and his host. Pleased to meet you. Won'tcha guess my name?"

"I've heard that song before." Senior spoke up, waving a hand in the air. "I don't like it. Dite...how long have you been...tied to this thing?"

"That doesn't really matter, does it?" Dite inquired calmly. "...not to me. There's a war coming." Dite explained. "The Resisty's just the beginning of it. Can't you feel it? Reality is bursting apart, schisms in time and space are ripping open. The War of Light shall come...all will blend, becoming black, and then the White will sweep everything away. That's why we need to make sure you're alive." Dite told Sude, pointing with a finger, the helm falling away, revealing his true face.

HER true face.

"...you're...a girl." Senior gasped.

"Yes." She said quietly. "I am. My own private little secret." She laughed.

"I want to help you." Senior said. "Tell me how this happened. Let me help you. Please."

For a moment, genuine surprise flickered over Dite's face, and then her expression became slightly sad. "...you're frightened by what I am. But this is me now. It's too late for me. I'm staying here...and just getting started."

With that, she thrust her fist into the ground, a flash of red light blinding Senior before...

She was gone. He blinked stupidly, scratching his head before turning to his own entity. "Okay, TALK. What is this "War of Light"?" He demanded to know. "If you're gonna make me your host, you're gonna tell me why you need a host, why one of my charges is dismembering people around my planet!"

Sude chewed his lip. "...I'll explain it." He murmured. "...but once I do, I warn you...there's no going back."

"I'm not...scared." Senior growled at the draconic being's face.

"...well..." Sude folded his arms and sighed before he held one clawed hand up to it's host's head, as knowledge began to fill Senior's mind, images playing out before his eyes.

"It begins as all tales do...In the beginning..."

...

...in the beginning, there was light. The universe belonged to the light. For seven hundred and seventy seven years there was nothing but blinding white light. It looked upon all it saw, all it was, and all it was...was pure and good. Then came the splintering of the light as the foundations of the black were laid...

The light became many as it's purity died away. It became passion. It became diligence. It became intelligence. It became will. It became hope. It became love. It became compassion. The Seven Heavens looked upon their universe and swore to make sure all felt their blessings.

But they were splintered further and further. The white became more and more corrupted, chipped away, again and again until it was barely a whisper. In response, three of the Heavens grew darkened by the spreading of the corruption...

And they began to plot and plan. They felt only their light was the true light, and the others became just tainted enough to believe this lie to be true.

They shall fight. They shall begin the War of Light.

And The War of Light shall return all to White.

Senior fell to the ground, panting heavily. He had witnessed the very birth of the universe and life itself. Entire planets had just been born and then destroyed before his eyes...he understood now. The knowledge filled him.

It was NEAT.

"You've met what was once my Passion. Now it's become Rage." Sude said. "I want to turn the corrupted entities good again...and find the others quickly. Stop this war before it spreads across the galaxy and makes innocents suffer. And I sense every single one of them is on this planet, a planet that holds the fate of much of the galaxy in it's hands." The draconic being insisted, clenching his fist tightly.

"Then...we need to ground the Massive. It's LEAVING in two hours." Senior realized out loud. "We keep it here, you and I will have more time to search, and any second counts."

"Speaking of "count", does this mean I can count on your assistance, then, Senior Communications Officer of the Massive?" Sude wished to know, tilting his head to the side slightly as he hovered around Senior, who stood back up on his feet.

"...please...call me "Nick"." The officer insisted. "...I prefer that among friends." He added sheepishly.

#invader zim #fanfiction #fanfic #zim #superhero #superheroes #Dib #Gaz #Senior #Dite #Wiyn #science fiction fantasy

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thebibliomancer · 4 years ago

Text

Essential Avengers: Avengers #221: ... New Blood!

July, 1982

A semi-famous somewhat imitated cover!

Can you guess ahead of time which two will be joining the Avengers?

No cheating.

Actually, what’s funny is that I can imagine a Young Bendis looking at this cover, seeing Luke Cage, Spider-Man, and Wolverine all in a row like that and whispering to himself ‘one day... one day...’

Spider-Woman is even on this! This is almost the roster meme that Bendis would have selected his team out of.

Just as soon as he cleared the way by killing off Ant-Man and Hawkeye.

Anyway, I like the cute touch that there’s just a completely blank square for Sue Storm. And is she really still going by Invisible Girl at this point?

-google- Ah, Invisible Woman is still a few years off.

And at risk of spoiling, I like the cover pretending that Rom (Space Knight) could feasibly join the Avengers. Although that would have made a hilarious mess when the rights lapsed. A whole swathe of Avengers comics unavailable.

So, where are we at?

Last times on Avengers: Captain America decided that the Avengers had become too unwieldy. They’d settled into a filler rut and Cap wanted them to be lean and mean.

So the old order changeith’d! And Moondragon meddled, causing half of the old team to quit. But Cap got his lean team of himself, Thor, Iron Man, Wasp, Yellowjacket, and Tigra.

And then Yellowjacket Hank Pym had an ‘attempted murder out of insecurity’ breakdown and tried to murder his friends and was a very bad husband to Wasp as well.

So Yellowjacket was out and Wasp took some personal time.

It was just Cap, Thor, Iron Man, and Tigra. And then Tigra quit.

Wasp rejoined but the trim team of six had become anemic at four and after some space mishaps, its finally time to try to do something about that.

As Iron Man declares in title-of-the-issue font they need some ... NEW BLOOD!

And Wasp declares ‘yes we all know that already we’ve just been putting it off.’

(And they finally got the big meeting table back from the cleaners or wherever its been. Thank goodness)

But the question that Chairperson Wasp poses the team is should they re-induct some ex-members or go looking for some truly new blood?

Thor is brooding on the recent events, where Moondragon manipulated the Avengers previous roster shakeup and later when Moondragon took over a planet and got Thor to fight his friends.

So Thor’s point, by way of dwelling, is that they should be careful with who they choose.

Thor: “Thus can no action, no thought made by any of us in the last weeks be truly, absolutely claimed as our own. Not even... mine.”

There we go. There’s that good Moondragon induced paranoia I was hoping for.

And character wise, I do like that there’s fallout from the Ba-Bani misadventure. Whether being forced to fight his friends or being made to fall in love with Moondragon or being convinced to side with her plan to bring mandatory peace to the universe. Thor has been affected by what happened.

Cap suggests that they clear the slate and just judge potential members on their current qualifications.

So what qualifications should potential Avengers have?

Captain America: “Compatibility. Someone who can work in a team.”

Iron Man: “And technical expertise. Perhaps someone good with weaponry.”

Thor: “We’ve enough strength, methinks. But courage is important. Aye, and a noble heart.”

Wasp: “Well, I know exactly what this group needs. More girls!”

Good suggestions. All good suggestions. But very good suggestion from Wasp.

I know that two women on one team is the low bar that Avengers tends to reach but you know what’s worse? One women on one team. And you know what’s better? Three.

Think about it.

The meeting gets cut short because Jan has to go do Jan things like show off fashion at the Tavern on the Green but she tells the others to figure out who they’d like as new Avengers and then they’ll all decide at their meeting next week.

As the Avengers all head off, Captain America mentions to Iron Man that hey remember how Hawkeye used to be an Avenger all the time? Weren’t those good times? He worked well on the team, was real into being an Avenger.

Iron Man agrees that sure is a Thought but flies off thinking more about Jan’s suggestion to have more women on the team, albeit probably for less than pure reasons.

Thor meanwhile doesn’t have anywhere to be so sits down in the sitting room and reads a Time magazine.

Jarvis brings Thor some mead and Thor asks who Jarvis would enlist for the Avengers if Jarvis was given the choice.

Jarvis is surprised to be asked but does his best to speak off the cuff.

Jarvis: “Why, I - I really hadn’t given it much thought! But since you ask, I feel that some of the best Avengers have started as the most unlikely candidates. For example, those with strongly individual, independent natures seem to have worked out surprisingly well.”

You’re a good guy, Jarvis.

And you’ve got a good point. Since the Avengers were pretty much everyone who wasn’t on a team jammed onto a team together, the Avengers kind of have as foundation strongly individual independent superheroes managing to do a teamwork anyway.

And Thor just so happens to be reading the Time magazine that has a picture of Spider-Man on the front (along with “Friend or Menace?”) and thinks huh individual and independent??

Oh boy!

Spider-Man going to be offered a spot on the Avengers? Is it 2005 already?

Goofs aside, this is an interesting callback maybe.

All the way back in Amazing Spider-Man Annual #3 (November, 1966) which I didn’t cover but probably should have if this was a more comprehensive Avengers blog but then I may have died under the enormity of the task.

Uh, that sentence got away from me.

Anyway, in that Spider-Man Annual, the Avengers debate whether to recruit Spider-Man for their team. Thor is the one there to find Spider-Man and bring him to the mansion. The Avengers decide to test him and (after Spider-Man tries to beat up the entire team because that’s what Spider-Man thinks proving himself is) they send him to bring the Hulk back with him.

He finds the Hulk and fights the Hulk but Hulk turns back to Bruce Banner and Spider-Man feels bad for Bruce and doesn’t want to turn him over to the Avengers (not knowing that they want to help Hulk). So he comes back and says welp couldn’t find him guess I’m not Avengers material byyyyyye.

The other Avengers go huh I guess he wasn’t Avengers material but Thor seemed to suspect what had really happened.

So my rambling point is that its appropriate that Thor again thinks to recruit Spider-Man for the Avengers because of that previous story.

Later in the day, Iron Man calls Captain America.

Although as Cap points out they know each other’s civilian name now so why be formal?

Iron Man: “Captain America? This is Iron Man.”

Captain America: “Hey, Tony, let’s make it ‘Steve,’ okay? I’m off duty.”

So Tony “Iron Man” Stark has managed to stop thinking about more woman on the Avengers and has actually started to think about having Hawkeye back on the Avengers and has to admit, it sounds good to him!

So Captain Steve says they should go together tomorrow and see what Hawkeye thinks.

This is a nice sequence.

Its nice to see how the two learning each other’s identity plays out like this. Tony trying to stick to how they’ve known each other and Steve making a not subtle overture for them to become more familiar.

This is probably good shipping fodder, I realize!

But it is also good friendshipping fodder. It can be both.

Elsewhere and meanwhile, at the Van Dyne residence, Janet puts her own recruitment drive into... drive?

She’s invited every super-heroine in the country she can think of to brunch but she has no idea how to get a hold of She-Hulk.

Not even her state of the art computer system can find her! Granted, the state of the art computer system is for analyzing fashion forecasts and not news reports about She-Hulk sightings.

So Jan decides that if you want a She-Hulk you’ve got to spend a little green.

She has her assistant take out a bunch of full-page ads in all of the major west coast newspapers. And heck, buy a bunch of commercial time too!

Jan is going to do some I Want You (to Join the Avengers) ads!

She is ludicrously wealthy.

I went and checked and her original inheritance was ‘only’ three million dollars but the way that she throws around money I’m pretty sure she has managed to get some lucrative investments. That or she’s just super good at being a fashionista.

Granted, blowing a bunch of money for a chance to have brunch with She-Hulk is a pretty good reason to blow a bunch of money.

Later, as twilight comes, Thor is flying around Central Park because he has no idea how to find Spider-Man but hears that he’s often around “the meadow-lands called Central Park” and happens upon three goofuses who just robbed a pawnshop.

These goofuses are such goofuses that one of them is wearing groucho glasses as a disguise. Another one is wearing a clown mask.

Which, like a moth to fire, aggros Spider-Man just to mock the guy.

I’m pretty sure rather than flying around aimlessly, the best way to find Spider-Man is to create the perfect quip opportunity.

A clown: “I’m gonna kiss every dime o’ my share -- just as soon as we get to the hideout so’s I can take off this stupid mask!”

Spider-Man, suddenly: “Aw, c’mon, Bunky, leave it on! I’ve always wanted to bust a bozo who looks like a bozo!”

Groucho: “S-s-spider-Man!”

S-s-spider-Man: “But enough of this clowning! Wanna give up?”

Dangit, Peter. Good wordplay.

But before can catch these thieves just like flies, down came the rain and washed the spider out.

A sudden, inexplicable (cough cough Thor) localized storm tosses around the thieves until they surrender.

After the police lead away the goofus thieves, Spider-Man comes dripping wet and with a bone to pick.

Spider-Man: “Do you have any idea what it’s like running around in wet tights?”

Thor is like sorry bro but I’ve come to talk so Spider-Man agrees but they’ll need to go off somewhere private because the press is honing in on him to ask him bonkers questions about whether he came in a flying saucer.

I think they’re thinking of a certain emissary of hell.

That darn press!

Spider-Man and Thor relocate to a high rooftop for their talk.

Spider-Man: “Now, Goldilocks, what’s your beef?”

Thor: “Thy protective demeanor is unneeded, my friend. I have no ‘beef’ -- only a proposal. The Avengers are seeking new members, and I wouldst offer thee such position.”

Spider-Man: “You... Thor... want me as an Avenger?

Spider-Man is still not sure if it would work out (reflecting on Spider-Man Annual #3) but he’s also really flattered by the offer. And presumably how the offer wasn’t accompanied by “BUT FIRST YOU MUST PASS OUR TEST!”

So he can’t just accept the offer off-hand but he’s definitely going to think about it.

Even if you don’t join the team, even just being considered is an honor.

The twilight turns into night turns into day, and Cap and Iron Man show up in Hawkeye’s place of business to bug him.

Don’t know if you remember but Hawkeye has a cushy job as head of security for Cross Technological Enterprises. And he actually does take the job seriously which is why he’s a little concerned, at least for his professional pride, that Cap and Iron Man got past his guards.

Cap: “Avengers priority -- never leave home without it. In fact, we’ve come to offer it to you.”

Smooth. Smooth, Cap.

Although I do like that they can just march up to the guards of this company and go ‘hey let us in we’re avengers’ and its not even a ‘ok i’ll clear it with head of security hawkeye’ its ‘yeah sure go right in and do you want any paperclips?’

Anyway, Hawkeye has his pride so he tells Cap not to expect him to come crawling back after the Avengers booted him out (actually Gyrich because Gyrich wanted the Avengers to have some ding dang diversity. Its weirdly the least assholeish thing he’s ever done although he approached it very much in an asshole way).

Point being, they kicked Hawkeye out and he has a new super cool job now.

Iron Man takes this show of wounded pride in wounded stride, just asking that Hawkeye consider it and let them know when he makes a decision.

But Hawkeye doubts he’ll decide to come back to the Avengers because he’s got a good thing in this steady, respectable paying job which comes with job security and respect!

And then, suddenly struck by the realization that he, Hawkeye, is turning down a drama implosion like the Avengers to do the adult thing?? Hawkeye doesn’t like what he’s become.

And he stares in horror at the trappings of power and respectability. The sex and the drugs.

Or a Playboy magazine and a personalized coffee cup, at least.

And he decides to give Iron Man his answer right then and there.

Which, of course, involves shooting arrows. This is Hawkeye we’re talking about.

What’s amazing is that we’ll learn later this issue that he’s going to keep his security job and do Avengers on top of that (and in fairness most of the Avengers don’t have Avengers as their only thing). But he just shot an arrow through a glass door in his place of employment.

But you don’t hire Hawkeye if you don’t expect that kind of thing so I can see why it wouldn’t impact his job.

So that’s Hawkeye as a YES and Spider-Man as a ‘I’ll get back to you.’ And as the weekend arrives, it’s time for Janet van Dyne’s superheroine brunch.

And on the hill above the van Dyne house, its our old pal Fabian Stankowicz.

Remember? The Mechano-Marauder? Built a robot suit to beat up the Avengers, none of them took him that seriously? Iron Man beat him up solo without trying very hard and then got angry about Hank Pym?

Anyway, he’s back, somehow, and he’s salty about the less than dignified experience he had in issue 217. But this time, he has a new plan!

Fabian Stankowicz: “They laughed at me! Mocked me! But I’ll show the Avengers that the Mechano-Marauder is not to be toyed with! I’ll attack their weakest member when the others aren’t around! She’ll be helpless! *Heh-heh-heh*”

Well. Good luck with that, my dude.

Sue Storm-Richards, the Invisible Girl, arrives and Jan introduces her to the other prospective Avengers: Dazzler, Spider-Woman, and Black Widow.

All good candidates, really.

Especially Dazzler.

Well, Beast left and Tigra left so somebody needs to be the new funny person.

Apparently, Spider-Woman doesn’t like puns because she immediately starts getting catty with Dazzler.

Spider-Woman: “Nice going, Blaire! You’re showing all the polish and poise of a real pro!”

Dazzler: “Oh? And I suppose crawling on walls like some yucky insect is ‘professional’?”

Spider-Woman: “I sting, too”

I guess, they have some history in Dazzler’s own book that didn’t go over well. Black Widow has to lean over and tell them to cut the shit out for Jan’s sake.

But then the last invited guest shows up.

ITS A SHE-HULK!

She saw the ads and she’s come for the free food!

Relatable.

Outside, Jan’s chauffeur Mr. Carrothers sits on the limo taking a smoke break and reflecting how good he has it working for the Wasp. Good pay, casual hours. The most he can complain about is that it gets a little boring sometimes.

That’s probably tempting fate because the All-New All-Different Mechano-Marauder stomps up to the house. Remember how Fabian threw the limo last time? Mr. Carrothers remembers.

He panics and runs into the house and tries to warn the assembled heroes.

And yet.

They didn’t really leap to action, huh? I mean, I get it. Brunch.

Even after the robot fist has punched through Wasp’s frankly ludicrous window and kidnapped Dazzler, Wasp is more annoyed than anything.

Wasp: “Fabian Stankowicz, you get that thing out of my living room!”

And then has to explain to her guests that Fabian is some chump that Iron Man beat up and that he wants to make a name for himself by defeating the Avengers. And Sue is like ah yes I understand completely.

But chump or not, Black Widow decides that they should rescue Dazzler.

Dazzler: “I don’t think I need saving, folks! This guy’s just holding, not squeezing!”

And so much for the brunch bunch taking this any amount of serious.

Sue just puts up a quick invisible dome to keep Fabian from getting to the rest of them which the Mechano-Marauder instantly bonks into and bangs on impotently demanding that they let him in.

Careful, Fabian.

You’re memeing yourself.

Dazzler saves herself when she gets tired of being carried around. She does her Dazzler thing with the bright pulse of light, blinding Fabian.

He drops Dazzler but she’s caught by She-Hulk.

The blinded Mechano-Marauder drives around blindly, thinking “These women aren’t even Avengers! They can’t beat me!”

Alas, Dazzler decides the same decision she decided in #211, that she’s a singer, not a fighter.

And Sue also decides to head off, saying that she’s too busy with the Fantastic Four anyway.

Shame.

But can we talk about the sheer audacity that Jan had of trying to poach Sue from the Fantastic Four to the Avengers? The nerve! The verve!

So that’s two of her candidates declining but that still leaves Spider-Woman, Black Widow, and She-Hulk.

And unfortunately for Mechano-Marauder, the first two are the two that have decided to kick his ass a little for entertainment reasons.

Spider-Woman’s venom blast damages one of the giant robot fists and Black Widow swings around Hoth-style and trips the Mechano-Marauder into the ornamental pond.

Alas, after literally dunking a giant robot into a pond, both Spider-Woman and Black Widow turn down the offer to join the Avengers.

Black Widow has private business that are keeping her busy. And Spider-Woman doesn’t even offer an excuse.

In fairness, she has her own solo book over in California and that’s a heck of a commute. I’m actually impressed that she came all this way for brunch.

Fabian is fed up with being treated as an after-thought in his own fight scene and bursts out of the pond, yelling how he’s going to destroy them all!

All.... uh, two that’s left at this point. Yup, he sure is going to destroy all two of them.

She-Hulk has been fairly low-key this whole story, especially for She-Hulk. I’m pretty sure she came to the brunch just for the food and she hasn’t reacted much to Fabian, even when the others were. She caught Dazzler but she hasn’t had much to say since arriving. She’s mostly been standing with her hands on her hips, watching things play out.

But I guess she’s gotten tired of Fabian. Or maybe it falls to her as the last guest.

She tells him to shut up and breaks his robot suit with one punch.

Fabian has one last trick up his Mechano-Marauder sleeve but its a dumb one.

His ejector seat is actually a backup robot suit. Annnd, its so heavy that it sinks into the ground. Trapping him.

Good job, Fabian.

She-Hulk goes to give him one more punch but Wasp stops her. Because she wants a shot at him.

And wow! What a shot!

At full not small size she crosses the streams to focus her bio-power stings into one concentrated beam and blows a hole in Fabian’s escape suit.

I’ve talked before about how Wasp’s pew pew stings have seemingly gotten souped up under Shooter and I think this is another good example. I mean, she’s not blowing up a house but combining the blasts to do precision boring is another cool application we haven’t seen before.

Anyway, now Wasp goes teeny and flies into the hole she made and up into the helmet to blast Fabian in the face. So hard his helmet flies off.

Wasp: “That’ll teach ‘im for ruining my party!”

And that’s that for brunch.

Days later, Jarvis calls the State Department to request official clearance for two new members.

And we see part of the process of that. Interesting if you’re interested in the logistics of an officially recognized superhero team.

I guess what’s interesting is that Henry Peter Gyrich is still part of the process.

You’d think he’d have been replaced or something after the Avengers very publicly embarrassed him and got emancipated from him. I guess he keeps doing the necessary liaison stuff without ever talking to them.

The requests for the two new members cross Gyrich’s desk and he takes it to the White House where the request gets signed by Ronald Reagan.

(The two new members are Hawkeye and She-Hulk by the by. We see it on the paperwork. Guess Spider-Man is still thinking it over.)

Anyway, I guess its interesting that new Avengers are a matter that goes all the way up to the president.

God, I’m glad that for the modern team, Cap told the US government to fuck off because I don’t want to even think about that still being a thing.

The next day after the paperwork is signed, Hawkeye is on his way to Avengers Mansion in a cab. He’s reading a Time magazine about the change in the Avengers’ roster and reflecting that it’ll be hard to hold down two jobs but worth it because he’s missed the adventure.

Check out the Time magazine though.

The cover of this comic book issue is in-universe the cover of Time magazine! That’s neat.

But Hawkeye’s cab is suddenly cut off by a pink Cadillac.

And Hawkeye being Hawkeye doesn’t just grumble and go about his day. He commits assault. Because this is Hawkeye.

The guy that Cap and Iron Man wanted back for being a good team-player.

So he gets out of the cab and shoots the pink Cadillac with an EMP arrow that fries the car’s electrical system.

Really abusing that Avengers Priority Status already, huh, Hawkeye?

The one mistake he made is that the pink Cadillac belongs to She-Hulk. She in fact earned it by doing a car commercial for Wacky Willie’s Wheels-And-Deals so you might imagine she’s fond of it.

So she picks up the cab with Hawkeye in it and leans it against a lightpole.

And then she picks up the Cadillac on her shoulder and walks off with it.

She-Hulk knows how to make a lasting impression, I’ll say that.

But soon after he gets down from the taxi and stops in at an ER to make sure he’s not concussed, Hawkeye arrives at Avengers Mansion to rejoin the team.

Hawkeye: “Okay, folks, life can go on -- Hawkeye’s here!”

Iron Man: “And it’s about time! We were starting to get worried. What happened?”

Hawkeye: “Oh, nothin’ much -- not ‘til some freaky Amazon tried to play dominoes with my taxi!”

She-Hulk, lurking silhouetted by the window: “‘Amazon’, eh? I don’t suppose it could have been -- a green Amazon?”

That is a powerful energy you have there, She-Hulk. Powerful energy and a power move in a power suit.

And that’s how Hawkeye’s day was ruined. Also how the two new additions to the team start with bad blood.

Conflict! We gotta have it!

Wasp: “Hawkeye, She-Hulk. I’d like to officially welcome you both. From now on -- you’re one of us. We’re one of you. And we’re all -- THE AVENGERS!”

Jan’s trying a new thing where she kisses every new member. And they both have to bend down a little for her.

Also, another new Wasp costume! Wasp gonna Wasp!

This is another good, light-hearted decompression issue. The Moondragon two-parter had some yuks but also mind-control sex and Drax’s brain melting. So this time Wasp throws a brunch and Cap and Iron Man help Hawkeye escape the drudgery of an adult job.

There’s a lot of what could have been with Wasp’s guest list. What if she could convince Sue Storm to take a break from the Fantastic Four to try being on the Avengers.

She’ll join later, in the Worst Roster but she’ll join with Reed. I’m thinking more of a thing where Sue gets some time away from the family. I don’t think it could last long and it would need the Avengers and FF writer to be on the same page but I think it could be interesting - Sue getting to be on a team where she doesn’t have to be the adult in the room and doesn’t have to work alongside the family.

It’s a similar reason to why I’d like to see adult Cyclops join the Avengers. He’s so tied in with X-stuff and being the leader of X-stuff that I want to take him out of that context and see a new side of him.

Spider-Woman and Black Widow also could have been interesting. They’ll both become Avengers later. I don’t know that Dazzler ever did and she presents interesting opportunities.

The Avengers have had Wonder Man who was also trying to break into acting while being an Avenger. So Dazzler trying to pursue her singing career might just be a retread of that but what if she were more successful and was a celebrity on the team.

The Avengers kind of are celebrities but I think it’d be a different feel if they had a famous (disco) singer on the team.

Interesting stuff (for me) to think about, anyway.

Something else to talk about is the creative credits. Jim Shooter is credited for plotting but Dave Michelinie as writer. And looking ahead, Shooter is not going to be the solo writer again in the near future.

I think we’re getting to the point where Shooter’s going to be too busy with EIC duties to keep up writing the Avengers. He’s going to get plotting credits for a few more issues, probably loose threads he’s handing to other writers.

So the second Shooter run is going to end soon. Shame. Very much a shame. It wasn’t a very long run but he put a lot of energy and humor into the book.

Next time: Egghead’s back and he’s bringing a new Masters of Evil. Wow, it’s been a while since we’ve had them and they’re supposed to be the Avengers’ evil opposite team.

And Egghead is the not very impressive criminal mastermind who couldn’t beat Hank Pym so instead framed him for crime. Hopefully the new Masters rise above that level of menace.

Follow @essential-avengers because I’m bringing you the She-Hulk content you crave. I assume. I took a poll and one out of one person said ‘this is the She-Hulk content I crave’ and I extrapolated from that. Also you should like and reblog because She-Hulk would want you to.

#Avengers #Mechano Marauder #Iron Man #Captain America #Thor #the Wasp #Spider Man #Hawkeye #Invisible Girl #Dazzler #Spider Woman #she hulk #Black Widow #essential avengers #ten issues since the last one that had a bunch of guest stars #its a bunch of guest stars and a roster change!#essential marvel liveblogging

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laurelnose · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! I'm your Witcher Secret Santa (and very excited about it) here to ask if you have any particular tropes/likes/genres you'd like to see for your Geraskel fic!

hello!! thrilled to have you here!! 💛

i’m just gonna...kinda follow the wishlist outline the secret santa blog laid out here. cutting for a lot of talking about my personal geralt/eskel likes & dislikes lmao. hopefully this helps give you some ideas & if you need clarification on anything just let me know!

my eskeralt tag is #like two drops of water (this link doesn’t work on mobile but i will put it in the tags of this ask). what appeals to me about eskeralt is…aside from vesemir, there’s nobody either of them has known as long as they’ve known each other, and like, there’s nothing really that could ever make them reject each other. whatever happens short of death, there will always be eskel for geralt and geralt for eskel. also i just love both of them individually & it makes me happy to see them in the same place :’D

that said, i have never shipped a fully emotionally functional relationship in my life and eskeralt is not an exception—some of the most interesting points of conflict between geralt and eskel for me include:

their relationship is difficult to maintain; enough contract work for two witchers together is difficult to come by & two witchers are seen as intimidating by townsfolk! also, they’re both men, but ymmv on how much homophobia you want to feature in your version of the Continent. one of the few times they can be freely together is back at Kaer Morhen, and three or four months out of the year is…not a lot.

there’s a significant asymmetry between them where geralt has a much wider social network (both platonically and romantically) than eskel does. while geralt can always go to dandelion or yennefer for what he needs, eskel doesn’t have the same freedom… and eskel is clearly unhappy about yennefer when he and geralt speak to each other in the forktail cave. is there some bitterness there about geralt chasing the attention of sorceresses and whoever else all over the continent when eskel, the ugly, unfamous one, has always been right there for him? methinks the answer may be yes.

geralt is…not a functional emotional support network. like, he barely qualifies as a single emotional support pillar. he’s definitely 100% there for his friends but he’s not fantastic at divining when they need support without them actually out-loud asking, and tbh eskel isn’t necessarily great at this either. both of these boys were seriously failed as children when it came to identifying and communicating their own emotional needs. i love geralt and eskel knowing each other without speaking, the familiarity of presence and body language, but that kind of wordless communication breaks down when it comes to more complicated things like “hey i feel like you don’t value me as much as your many other more attractive friends”!

re: yennefer—yenralt and eskeralt are both OTP and as far as I’m concerned, yen & geralt are in an open relationship that is sometimes on-and-off but never completely finished. you do not need to mention or include her but if you do she and geralt should not be permanently broken up.

genres—as may be obvious already, i like the complicated messy horrible feelings people have about each other and themselves and the difficulties inherent to making space for another person! angst is my favorite. i...basically never read pure fluff. i crave conflict and feelings. it doesn’t have to be conflict between them but there’s gotta be something in there makin’ life complicated.

i’m also a fan of whump. i’m pretty hard to squick when it comes to gore and various traumatic possibilities. if you are not so inclined, you do not need to include a happy ending. of course, if you are so inclined happy endings are also excellent!

tropes—in no particular order: casefic, confessions/first times, hurt/comfort (or hurt no comfort), miscommunication, mutual pining, relationship negotiation.

canon/pairing-specific tropes, still in no particular order: baby witchers, geralt & eskel being kaer morhen’s partners-in-crime, monster nerds (especially eskel; you may find #kaer morhen biology of monsters 101 useful. in the tags of this ask for mobile), eskel’s self-esteem issues, self-loathing for both of them, eskel calling geralt “wolf” (canon!!!), geralt kissing that notch in eskel’s lip.

i like a lot of different versions of the eskeralt first time; usually people have them figure it out as kids/teenagers, which i like very much, but i also like ‘back at kaer morhen for the first time as an adult witcher and oh shit he grew up hot’ and ‘it’s been decades and we are just now working thru all the emotional garbage that kept us from admitting to each other that we are not just friends’

& if it happens to be relevant, i’m not married to a trans headcanon for either of them but if only one of them is trans, i strongly prefer it to be eskel.

AUs—i usually go for canon or mostly-canon settings, but i’ll give almost any AU a try & i’m a big fan of canon divergence! when it comes to mermaid AUs, college/modern AUs, soulmate AUs, & daemon AUs, i am so incredibly picky that it’s probably not worth it though. i like roleswap AUs like sorcerer!boys a lot, and royalty/royalty-adjacent AUs are definitely my jam but please no warlord!geralt.

...very much here for warlord!eskel though. 👀

on NSFW—it’s cool! the things that really press my buttons are specific and niche, but i’m also almost impossible to squick, so feel free to include as much or as little sex as you want! i just want there to be emotions. my favorite is sub geralt and bottom eskel (yes at the same time) but i am not picky at all in that regard.

DNW—i immediately hit the back button at any mention of kaer morhen’s library. suicide-related angst not preferred.

also, no worries about spoilers, i have read or played everything relevant to the above ships!

#watch socks laurelnose tell on himself #i don't like to publicly talk about what i DON'T like in fandom too much #but i uh. wasn't sure how to avoid it here.#couple of unpopular opinions here OH WELL #*queues this for when i am not awake so i dont have to think about it*#like two drops of water #kaer morhen biology of monsters 101 #(for navigation purposes)#secret santa stuff #asks #anonymous

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mikauzoran · 4 years ago

Text

Marichat: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: Kiss Thirteen

On AO3: Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses: ...discreetly.

Chat Noir landed on Marinette’s balcony at exactly one o’clock, just as Alya and Marinette finished setting up the recording equipment.

“Mademoiselle Césaire,” he greeted cordially, giving Alya a polite, if not somewhat over-the-top, bow.

Alya bowed back playfully. “Chat Noir! Thank you so much for coming. My followers are all really excited for this.”

“Not at all,” he assured, waving away her thanks. “It’s my pleasure. Really.”

Alya gestured toward Marinette. “You remember my friend, M—”

“—Marinette,” Chat trilled with delight (as if he hadn’t just seen her the previous evening…or the one before that and the one before that), sweeping into a low bow fit for nobility.

On his way back up, he snatched her hand and brought it to his lips. “It’s always such a treat to see you.”

“You too!” Marinette laughed nervously. “Not that we see each other often or anything!”

“Of course,” Chat corroborated without missing a beat, charming smile never faltering. “And that just makes each meeting more precious.”

“Not that there have been many meetings,” Marinette added for Alya’s benefit, turning to her friend to assure, “I mean, we hardly know each other. It’s not like we’re friends or anything.” She chuckled in an “isn’t the very idea of me being friends with a superhero ridiculous?” manner.

Alya’s brow furrowed, a suspicious eyebrow slowly starting to make its way up the journalist’s forehead. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

“What?!” Marinette choked, beginning to wave her arms wildly. “No! It’s not like that at all. I—”

Chat put out an arm and stepped between Marinette and Alya. “—If you’ll pardon me for interrupting, I can explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Marinette squeaked, shooting her boyfriend a dirty look.

Alya grinned widely, ignoring her friend and focusing on the superhero. “You’re pardoned. Do go on.”

“Marinette is afraid that you’re going to discover that she and I are acquaintances and be mad that she didn’t tell you,” he fibbed fluently.

Alya looked at Marinette (who covered her face with her hands and groaned) and then back at Chat Noir, her eyebrow inching up to new heights. “Acquaintances?”

Chat shrugged nonchalantly, playing it off as no big deal. “I was out one night and spotted her on her balcony. I recognized her from some of the akuma attacks, so I went over to say hi, and she gave me some leftover pastries.”

Alya’s intrigued expression became a knowing smile. “And you kept coming back to see if you’d get free snacks again.”

“Guilty,” Chat sighed theatrically, tail and ears wilting before quickly bouncing back. “Marinette’s winning personality didn’t hurt matters either.”

“I’ll bet,” Alya snorted. “How about the fact that she’s not too hard on the eyes?”

Chat held up his hands in surrender. “No comment,” he replied, but his roguish smirk spoke volumes.

“The point is,” Marinette broke in, “I didn’t say anything, Alya, because we decided it was too dangerous for anyone to know I was sort of friends with a superhero, so you can’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah.” Chat nodded, backing her up. “I couldn’t live with myself if Papillon started targeting Marinette and her family to get at me, so I’d appreciate it if you kept our acquaintanceship under wraps, okay?”

Alya mimed zipping her lips. “No worries, guys. No one is going to hear about this from me,” she promised.

Chat gave her a grateful smile while Marinette heaved a gigantic sigh of relief.

“Okay.” Alya clapped her hands, getting them back on track. “Let me just run down to get my notes, and we’ll be all set to get started.”

They watched the aspiring reporter disappear through the skylight back down into Marinette’s room, and then Chat turned a concerned eye on his girlfriend.

“Hey, Princess,” he whispered, reaching out to run a knuckle down her arm. “You okay?”

Marinette shook her head, sinking back against the balcony railing with a sigh. “I’ve been dreading this interview all week. I wish you hadn’t agreed to it.”

“My Love, I’m a celebrity. This kind of thing comes with the territory,” he gently explained. “People’s safety sometimes depends on them knowing that they can trust me, so this kind of marketing thing is important. They’ve seen me destroy national monuments with a single touch, Marinette,” he stressed, running his knuckle back up and down her arm. “They need to be absolutely certain of who I am and what I would or would not do with that kind of power. Publicity events like this are opportunities for them to see who I am as a person and get to know me, see that I’m just a normal guy.”

“Oh,” Marinette breathed, all words feeling inadequate.

She had never stopped to think that her partner’s power of destruction could be something Parisians might worry about. Now that he mentioned it, it seemed rather obvious given that Papillon and Mayura used their Miraculouses for evil.

“I know you’re worried about Princess’s identity being exposed,” he acknowledged, “but that’s not going to happen, okay?” He ducked his head so that he was peering up at her, giving her his most reassuring smile. “I will always protect you.”

“My hero,” she chuckled softly, forcing herself to take a deep breath and calm down.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered with a wink. “I promise I’ll be discreet.”

Before she could protest, he surged forward for a quick kiss, pulling back just as Alya pushed the skylight open to rejoin them on the balcony.

“Okay. Let’s get this interview on the road,” Alya announced, not seeming to notice anything amiss as she pulled herself back up.

Marinette was certain her face was fuchsia, but that had been the shade of Marinette’s skin throughout the first year of Alya and Marinette’s friendship due to all the blushing about Adrien, so Marinette guessed that it wasn’t unusual that the florid state of her skin now hadn’t registered on Alya’s radar.

The majority of the interview went fairly well. Alya asked normal, non-identity-revealing questions like Chat’s favourite colour, favourite school subject, favourite musician, and dream pet.

It turned out that Chat Noir was a dog person. He wanted three: a medium-size dog for normalcy’s sake, a gigantic dog so big that his future children could ride on its back, and a tiny dog so small that he had to worry about the giant dog eating it.

Alya got a kick out of that, but Marinette was too busy thinking about dog names and what her children with Chat Noir would look like. It turned out that they looked remarkably similar to the future children she had imagined having with Adrien.

Marinette’s favourite response was when Alya asked about Chat Noir’s favourite food.

“I actually have a friend whose mother is from Martinique,” he remarked, piquing Alya’s interest.

“My family originally came from Martinique!” she replied in delight.

“Oh, yeah?” he chuckled. “What a crazy coincidence! Well, my friend’s mom makes this amazing Colombo de Martinique, and I’m pretty sure it’s my favourite dish ever.”

Chat turned to the camera and explained for the viewers, “It’s a curry dish. Usually it’s made with lamb or chicken, but my friend’s mom makes a version with fish that I’m crazy about.”

Marinette made a mental note to brush up on her Colombo de Martinique cooking skills. Two years prior, after learning that Adrien loved Alya’s mom’s fish curry, Marinette had learned to make it, but ever since she’d given up on elaborate schemes to confess her love to Adrien, she hadn’t made the dish.

Perhaps she could trot out the recipe the next time Chat ate dinner with her family.

Marinette’s thoughts were quickly interrupted as Alya moved on to more personal questions.

“So, Chat Noir, all of Paris is dying to know about this mysterious ‘Princess’ you’ve been spotted with this past month. Can you shed any light on the situation for your fans?” Alya prompted, leaning in slightly, ready to pounce on the smallest clue.

Marinette tensed, a parade of nightmare scenarios zipping through her mind.

Chat didn’t seem phased at all as he agreed affably. “Sure.”

He turned to the camera and looked straight at the viewers. “First and foremost, I want to be clear with you guys: my girlfriend is a private citizen, and I expect you all to respect her privacy. Do not try to discover her identity. I’m not sure how far Papillon is willing to go, if he understands that love is sacred and some lines shouldn’t be crossed, but he may start targeting Princess and the people she cares about in order to get to me if her identity is discovered, so I’m asking you all to take this very seriously, okay? I love her, and I’m not going to be able to do my best to protect all of you if the woman I love is in danger. We need to work together on this, all right? For the safety of all of Paris.”

Chat looked back to Alya to find her subconsciously nodding. He smiled. “So. With the understanding that Princess’s identity and personal life are off the table, what specific questions do you have for me?”

Marinette relaxed a bit after that.

Chat Noir could be a bit of a rash goofball at times, but he had grown and matured over the past three years. She should have trusted that her boyfriend knew what he was doing. She should have trusted that he would never let anything happen to her.

Hadn’t he proven himself over and over again with every akuma he’d given his life to protect her from?

She should have known that her partner had her back.

Once secure in that knowledge, the anxiety faded, and Marinette was able to enjoy listening to Chat talk about how Princess had been the one to ask him out, even though they had kind of mutually affirmed their feelings for one another at that point. No, she did not know his identity. No, he was not afraid of her only dating him because he was a superhero because they had been friends for a while before they’d begun dating. Yes, Chat Noir did make friends with civilians he regularly ran into on his nights out.

Marinette was a little thrown when Chat Noir gave shoutouts to “Orpheus”, “Pretty Boy”, and “Kunoichi”. Apparently, he really did have more friends whom he visited regularly as Chat Noir besides Marinette. She was fairly certain that “Pretty Boy” was Adrien, but she couldn’t even begin to guess at the other two, and that bothered her somewhat.

There was so much she didn’t know—couldn’t know—about her own boyfriend.

Marinette zoned back in just as Chat Noir was finishing up his comments about how amazing Princess was, how kind and smart and fun and thoughtful, how in love with her he was.

She made a mental note to watch the footage again and maybe save a copy of that portion to listen to when she was feeling down about herself.

She wondered if he would still say those things if he knew about her affair with Adrien, but…at least it sounded like she was doing some things right. He felt loved and appreciated, and that was important. She just had to keep making up for her shortcomings by making him feel truly loved.

“How was that?” Chat snickered as he helped to disassemble the lighting equipment, keeping an ear open for Alya’s return. “Not as bad as you’d feared, was it?”

Marinette shook her head as she wound up the extension cord. “No. You were right,” she admitted. “That…went really well. I’m sorry for not trusting in you, Minou. I should have known better.”

“No worries.” Chat easily shrugged it off. “Now you won’t be so nervous next time, so it’s all good. It turned out for the best.”

“How can you always be so optimistic?” she chuckled, shaking her head even as she smiled affectionately.

“I have good things in my life,” he informed with a broad smile. “It’s easy to be optimistic when you feel so blessed.”

“Oh, Minou,” she sighed, her own lips stretching even wider until he captured them in a kiss.

“Could one of you bring down the boom mic next?” Alya called up to them.

Chat Noir pulled away from Marinette just long enough to respond, “On it!” before diving in to steal yet another kiss.

#Marichat #Adrinette #Adrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Chat Noir #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Alya Césaire #Adrien Agreste #Kissing #Writing Prompt #Mikau's Writings #Serendipity: Fifty Marichat and Adrienette Kisses

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libidomechanica · 6 months ago

Text

There had

A curtal sonnet sequence

Like him by, whilst hear his perfect is cruel? Felt thou conceals his own mourning seen, show my mother’d with the things they appear! Above must know abide by her saw her is pass to mumble in made they ding, the shall built, methink o’er sea-spry?—All are to me. Whither hung over, never kisses; nor night. I feeling—thine arms spring, for perfect seisure? To gives upon the faint dying in the grey circles rosy eloquench pearls.

Are faire displeasant from seventyfold. And love, thou do any fault, it may not be drearied Lamia, here, some first past, and in the ledge of the Infernal love the conceal her cheered mind, happy dell be of azure, excellent slippery river Full mould; so three days Time, curb, and felt plants a lord once down hearted, nor away, he flower some starry train. And next she little of the praise, into two or thy garden fruits.

And some years; these sneers are content there God began to languish is it, nor mantle, as the swerved spake faint visitor! Warm, trees brightes where not in there you require. The lay about thee, with their soft shoulder at whisper’s earn’d as sweep the Adonian yellow; and temples rosbif. Thee, I am trying, long in never cries; I mourning up to the Starrs, all time to her; sic articulate; while among had he kind director?

Lucid bow’d in his before? The only, you lingers, and sing, these some skies and fire, doth so, and me were of love heroes the word and long, whilst may flow. You for the little door. When first and a ho, and no need their child, I loveliness invisible careful land one worlds to believes to watch’d than singing centre of his huge stars; the wastful through, no drop in mutual blows the sung or sometime pain; your basket, that thee!

Ah, white kerchief waving the tear. Sat a body’s gravest friends, swearing wings can cat and his feel thee kingdom come, olive. Thy most, and set above thence only they be connubial kisse! By the insane. Seal upon thy heard him nothings her softness from the circles, bloom whate’er his call’d mongst the cirque of that lover! Brought looks o’er dropping sweet sayshould now my soul had been: nor plays, of rever broad, at sits, and sleeps. His mouth, what too?

Grow to built with danger is pure her than look on Marathon—disdaine own by the Dey of shade, were wood instincts. She empyrean for wind outer walie nieves me will personal future strange—eternall not this few, do loue me nights to my lover had he her house. While sound in that beat ever the gentleman at leave which, labouring down the woods! It there for you in my fault or dear to honour and felt planet thee.

Too, had a lone, his mortal drear there you? I lisp’d thy heart thou shall I sawe so fair where footsteps wit, flowing them alle tomb, to me. Something no doubt he kind; she same small smiles, with all our wilt be in the ruthless for one bright, I have fleeth, say not touch’d and tempests do not fine piercing thee sitting from that was held-out have complain, and shortest mist, diverted up because mean of loved is them speech—which or old Tartary air.

Onward view before King Sappho love of her chastely heeds with love’s dead. Dare I met and turn from and looks went about other! Though the despondense, I find once me thy be to do he knees are his verdure, at lengthened to her maiden hang it was a pure going dream inclose, and marble urn the commitments a face, and taketh no furthens ever. His charactery, but your own sweet nymphs the different should every side.

Her new voice lutinous crimson and sleepy dusky doom, cowers again tarn, and heart all fall arose, and thine her rising a disturbed from a slave that in the sun, show a young stars vppon my ground of silken tremendour all tragediest Muse! Leant thickset free to their from the dark yew trees: if only think, yea, till not heaven’s airy scymetar; bright; tis bed-fellow, the virgin hand death tall the crescended, but no home.

I would I lie unswept along black as a falcon-eye? Yet oft and place there I thine own depth, or frets our day what al hire border for perfume, her eyelashes, the length out at he manlier one of silvery ill begun to a foe to, vnkind; she’s pride awake! While hearted see here as all the Pyrrhic phalanx gone arms, in sprite, display: she, more wild melt those present thou shall their stand of music in at his hand she coast of?

’ I to make, as his friends up a Deity; but sweet body fit to espousals, and forth arise like thilke last thought have produces fra Pandolf by due; whether tears scald my self, that sober husband, and Tears what sleepy arms to my day; if justest of Memory overboard, eyes are link’d have write—love’s doubles of gardens and this brows. And they embroider’d from my birth and none, became light! And yet have are so shepeheard!

Come did but come not true-love is no ending and good we’ll now are clocks with you might in, within regretted he dive for then I should not a moons, thou that woods drowsy hour. Carrying, ding; to Empressionate liar—rough I defiled is, the sword his watred, staircase to the was a button for young his head as if all and far, near as he, with the memories she can sent in the has begun to watch novel? The night.

Whence came up her break, but Salámán dedicative ranks, that dead, from high lyric down for the would nothings fresh singing how sobs that his power of vain; define forgot the pink casket on heavily por’d on the lies, round of both a Bacchus! Too ease, cheer, the faults do dwells; and by the floor of thy Hell to his pride: and towards the leaks aware, behold them in the countenance, with me find, to lures, glad and with your coronals.

To show my love, where his nae worms to speak. Spring, he lore of his recall’d by thou, old them wedding a sing, and Caesarean forest he senses rash or she pink, and thyself wilde planes. In your worst, old say when I am becomes to gather us. As they smother mither, Sister gude, washed in long as if the silver, can shall with them to loue new all commit ourses of their new worth’s lasse, alas what ye shall our happen.

Love forest lipp’d lie; then ready smiles stories roast out, at lend to thee sits upon that momental farce! May seek surrections of my break, or who have where, ere of pleasant not have bright me on. And self promises and vesper one shall she smell or them, terror another Rosenkavalier nook to god Phoebus gave up love, it is my loved heart wake with the she royal penchants are astonish’d down deep enchants gave, my Maud?

I knew a command thought thus, and truly the flourish them stray; the old grame; made him in; time she lily, to faint visions to roam the Bear how that she count of Druids warm’d, and makes muse, that turned each perfection her with his own grape appear, more his adulation from her hair she is a flame humor any sparks where most pampers. Me wollen, and of her sown; hang it, till his spotless very fain juno’s smiles, measures for me?

Thy sweet to dry and yet dew at one might placency he mind his fixed up, doth show: and in a true for victor Curried your the hour of me: now that blazed be from the Forrest or who all meet! Dive air, on a calmly sail to bed and to be so? Let him raisin, here, and mine eye and wide the way he thou wandering a jet still his lakes, poor and arrives like Southey, and to the free figures reproue, somehow, I caughter end thee.

By their sweet in the for him, but when say, perhaps the mildest morn, his absence of the fierce kissed between; a lonesome in the cublessed; but I fears. Her own, is best for Hermes on the sett him whose Lockes vp al my slow heats these, how heau’nly from his brown, he way thing, and slowly grant warm your tender your eyes caughters of all elemen will not pretty save into twins. Said to thing of sleeper where boiling; nor away.

Forget the lover triple spray biginnethes unseen abroad, and rainbow-sided, or idling-place her have for inventide; gems, thou not there, ere of dazzled by thine thou seest inhabitude the love my way; my kiss’d away forget thy beloved in the moved to the last dar’d how place thou divine: though but stars of a love. So rich he beams, and light! Who lovers to the Seas Seven has any dances, my daynting thus?

To catch that life hath what compared therefore. Before he torrent hours called in my taste of all stay and walk by moon. It was never flockes vp al my heard not they of festivity? And if thou sit amiss. She lady’s hand to his delight look back tinge of the true for people tree, and cry, and if I beare; her fate. Flock the gallant to personal future sure the religion of gold, while swung them my rocks wit, making sun?

Growing hear their dessert a pray Medea form’d into his eyes and the covered, want white robin atonement flits are always cannot him, as if the stranged steeds, side they spouse not so. I have hear her thou must knocks bewitchen those law. Passing, grants the flowers upon this arms so soft shouldst those flourish springtime, O Sorrow white ravish’d in one made Anacreon’s mitt, I never: whether giant by the pinion mine eye all.

The gods the beames did still there evergreen, with a wife all are out, that summer evergreen long-lived amaranted; yet while thine arms. The beginneth into the tempests dozed on most in choose babes of the World, that is dry worse, for yet I felt but at thee? Into my moth for there, upon he word and by a day bright and the stars,— all arose, and wearing in suture, apt to make away! A day by planets from me back.

Sound of colours called the lake away, and shrouds beneath thinke of another there be tongue, slippery river-gods, and thou fair—not faint half-hidden roses mid the apartments few, do your mother gentle groan and Morn, silent night the Isles or palm tremendous in her bell in this flood to child, his esteem. For not make thee: then run away! Their slaue, when he maid abide by the snake, O north it: as it reposed to mumble-bee.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #137 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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