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rizlowwritessortof · 2 months ago

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Remember Me - Part 5

Michaela’s mundane life takes a strange turn when she has a random encounter with a very attractive stranger in her local bar. It must be déjà vu – or maybe it isn’t.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OC Michaela

Word Count: 4438

Warnings: There be smut here 😉

Dividers by @talesmaniac89

“Yes, Dean, I’ll pick up the pizza before I head out. Okay, and some licorice, and yes, I’ve got the popcorn,” Mikey responded to Dean’s requests with amusement. “Anything else, sir?” She laughed at the raspberry she got in return. “Okay, I’m on my way. Better have some cold beer, mister.”

She had settled into a friendly give and take with the brothers, occasionally meeting for drinks in town, and this was their second movie night at the bunker. The awkward stress between her and Dean had given way to a playful friendship with an edge of sexual tension that neither of them would acknowledge, and Sam had become the friend and confidant that she had never had before – at least not that she could remember.

Sam met her at the door and relieved her of some of the things she was carrying before they headed down the stairs. “Where’s Dean?” she asked as they dropped everything on the table.

“Oh, he’s waiting for you with a surprise – follow me,” Sam grinned, leading the way down the hall towards the bedrooms. They stopped at the room next to Dean’s bedroom, and Sam swung the door inward, stepping back to let Mikey enter.

“Surprise!” Dean shouted, his arms flung wide and a bright smile on his face. Mikey’s eyes widened as she took in the former bedroom, which had been transformed into a living room of sorts. There was a medium-sized TV on a stand next to the door, chairs, end tables and footstools salvaged from other rooms in the bunker, and a huge overstuffed sofa in a hideous shade of green against the far wall. “No more sitting on somebody’s bed when we wanna watch a movie. What do you think?”

Mikey walked over and sat down, sinking into the soft cushions with a smile. “This is the ugliest couch I’ve ever seen – and I love it!”

Dean beamed back at her like he’d won the lottery. “Well, let’s get some food and beer and get this party started.”

A couple of hours later they had laughed their way through Tommy Boy, and Dean was trying to coax them into staying for Caddy Shack. “I don’t know, I should really go home,” Mikey answered, avoiding Dean’s persuasive smile.

“Come on, Mikey – no work tomorrow, you have all weekend to do whatever you need to do. Sam, tell her.”

“It’s true,” Sam grinned. “But I’m going to bed. You two have fun.”

“Sam, seriously? Traitor.” Mikey tossed a pillow at him as he left the room, his laugh trailing behind him.

“You can’t leave now, let me watch this classic all by myself.” Dean’s tempting little smirk and the playful gleam in his eyes were too much to resist, and Mikey settled back into the cushions, shaking her head with a helpless smile.

“Fine. You’re ridiculous, but fine. Bring it on.”

Sam glanced in on his way from the shower to his room, grinning to himself at the sound of Mikey’s laughter at Dean’s imitation of the gopher dance. He continued on his way, happy with his decision to leave the two of them alone. His brother’s resistance was breaking down, and maybe – eventually – he’d actually let her in.

Mikey woke the next morning snuggled into a soft blanket, still on the ugly green couch. It took her a minute to get her bearings, remembering vaguely how Dean had convinced her to stay. “It’s late. Just stay here tonight, you can go home tomorrow. I’ll make you breakfast…” he had teased in a sing-song tone, waiting until she had finally sighed and given in. She had already fallen asleep halfway through the movie anyway, so why not?

“With bacon?” she had asked, laughing softly at his victorious grin.

“Well, yeah. That goes without saying.”

“Okay. I’ll stay. Thanks.”

“I’ll grab you a blanket.” He had gone to his room and brought her back the fluffiest blanket he could find, and she had mumbled, “Good night, Dean,” as he had headed for the door. And she was sure she had heard him respond with a soft, “G’night, sweetheart” as he had left the room.

She swung her legs over to sit up just as Sam stuck his head in the door. “Left you a spare toothbrush on the counter in the bathroom, if you want one,” he smiled, and she thanked him. “Just going for a run, see you later.”

Dean hummed to himself as he cooked, starting the bacon frying and then mixing pancake batter. He had talked Mikey into staying the night, but he was determinedly pushing away thoughts of how the night could have gone if he had just picked her up and carried her to his room the night before instead of tucking her in on the sofa.

By the time he had a short stack of pancakes done, Mikey walked into the room, sniffing the air appreciatively. “Smells great in here,” she commented, and Dean returned her smile with one of his own.

“Coffee’s ready, help yourself,” he responded. “How many pancakes?”

“A couple is fine – thank you. I can’t believe you really did this.”

“Hey, I always keep my promises.” He handed her a plate of pancakes with a large side of bacon, and then sat down at the table with his own plate. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“I slept great, that couch is amazing,” she laughed.

They chatted while they ate, and then Dean got up, going to the stove to make up a plate for Sam. “I should probably get going,” Mikey said as she took her dishes to the sink. “Thank you, last night was really fun.”

She moved to Dean’s side, stretching up to place a kiss on his cheek at the same time he turned to look at her, and her lips landed squarely on his. They froze for a moment in surprise, but before she could pull back, his hand was on her shoulder holding her in place, his lips gently exploring hers. She leaned into him with a soft sigh, then jerked away as if she’d been burned at the sound of footsteps entering the room.

“Uh… sorry,” Sam mumbled, smothering the smile that still teased at the corners of his mouth. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“I was just – umm – heading out. Thanks for last night, I had a great time,” Mikey said in a rush and all but ran from the room.

They heard her footsteps on the stairs and then the door closing, and Sam turned back to look at his brother. “So…”

“It was an accident,” Dean snapped, shoving the plate of food across the table to Sam.

“You ‘accidentally’ kissed her?”

“Yes. Shut up. Just – eat your breakfast.” Dean turned and stalked out of the room, and Sam heard his bedroom door slam. He chuckled to himself, then dug into his stack of pancakes.

Dean paced for a minute, then sat down on the foot of the bed, closing his eyes. What the fuck was happening? He had been determined since the beginning of this whole erased-past fiasco that Mikey would continue her life free from the baggage that came from a relationship with a Winchester. And yet one touch from her and his resistance had disappeared. He had wanted so much more – to tease at the seam of her lips with his tongue until she opened to him, to pull her body close and feel her softness against him, to fit himself between her thighs and let her feel how much he wanted her. “Fuck,” he swore softly, standing to reach for his robe and head for the shower.

Mikey had raced out of there so fast that he had no idea of her reaction, other than being embarrassed by Sam’s interruption. Maybe he’d just text her later, find out if she was okay.

Mikey drove straight home, her mind racing. After all the talk of forgetting about their past, about moving on, the kiss had taken her completely off guard, and she was sure Dean was feeling the same way.

She went about her to-do list, performing her tasks mindlessly, unable to stop thinking about the way his lips had clung to hers, his hand keeping her near as if he had been afraid she’d pull away. If Sam hadn’t come in – her imagination ran wild with scenarios of Dean taking her right there on the counter top or carrying her off to his room, of her mouth on him as he desperately clutched at her hair, of him teasing her, driving her insane with his fingers or his mouth. She was a distracted mess all afternoon, finally going out to mow her lawn, working hard and fast to exhaust her body and relieve the tension.

She was sweaty and weary when she made her way back inside, hitting the shower and then dressing in her comfiest old shorts and tank top before collapsing on the sofa with a cold beer. She reached for the remote, turning on a random sitcom, leaning her head back against the cushions with a sigh. Her phone pinged, and she grabbed it to see a message from Dean. “Hey – are we okay?”

She stared at his words for several minutes, searching in vain for something witty and finally typing back, “Yeah – of course, we’re good.”

“Ok, good,” he responded. “Hey, we’re heading out on a hunt in the morning – so we’ll see you when we get back.”

“Be safe,” she answered, and blew out a relieved breath. At least he hadn’t reverted back to avoiding contact with her, so that was progress. Maybe, someday – she closed her eyes and laid her head back again.

Dean pulled up in front of Harley’s Bar a couple of weeks later, finally back in Kansas after the longer-than-expected hunting trip, and Sam shot him a curious look. “We’re not calling Mikey?”

“Yeah, I figured we’d just call her from here,” Dean answered, exiting the Impala and pulling his phone from his pocket. He called her number as they walked in and grabbed a table, looking up startled as he heard her voice nearby as she answered. She was behind the bar, and her face lit up with a bright smile as she spotted them, heading for their table.

“Home safe and in one piece, that’s what I like to see,” she greeted them. “What can I get you?”

“What – why are you working here?” Dean asked, confused.

“Oh, I’m just helping Harley out – his waitress quit. Ran off with her best friend’s husband, actually, so she won’t be coming back. Kind of left him in a bind, so I offered to help out a couple of nights a week, at least until he finds somebody else.”

“Wow. Well, I guess you won’t be having a couple beers with us, then, huh?” Sam asked, and she smiled his direction.

“If it’s not busy, Harley won’t care. He’s a teddy bear. And he likes me.”

Dean laughed. “He might be a teddy bear if he likes you – he’s a grizzly if he doesn’t.” She grinned and nodded in agreement, glancing over at her ex-biker boss behind the bar. “Couple of beers, please - and come join us if you have time later.”

Mikey dropped off their beers and stopped to chat with them a couple of times, but the bar was moderately full since it was a Friday night, and she was kept pretty busy. Dean’s eyes followed her as she worked, watching the confident, graceful way she navigated between tables, and he smiled at the sound of her voice as she joked and laughed with the customers.

“Dude, you’re staring,” Sam jabbed at his brother, and Dean shot him a glare.

“Shut up,” he said between clenched teeth as Mikey approached their table with two beers.

“On me,” she smiled, “sorry I haven’t had time to hang out.”

“Not closing time yet,” Dean answered. “We’re not in any hurry.”

The guy from the next table gestured to her, and she shrugged. “No rest for the weary.” She headed to his table, took the man’s order and was turning towards the bar when he reached out and grabbed a handful of her ass.

Dean swore under his breath, but before he was halfway out of his chair, Mikey had the side of the jerk’s face smashed against the table top with one hand, his arm twisted painfully behind his back with the other. She spoke quietly, but there was steel in her tone.

“Okay, let’s get something straight. Drinks are on the menu. Food is on the menu. My ass? Not on the menu. Touch me like that again, and you’ll find your balls somewhere up between your ears. Are we clear?” He mumbled a reply as well as he could manage, and she released him, letting him sit back up. “Good boy. Enjoy your beer,” she quipped as she walked away.

“Badass,” Dean grinned, glancing over at Sam, who was doing the same, and he nodded in agreement. Mikey had just moved behind the bar when the drunk swiped his arm across his table, sweeping his beer to the floor where the bottle shattered.

“Fucking bitch,” he spat, starting to stand, but a loud crack resounded through the room, silencing the entire bar. The barrel-chested bartender stood there glowering with his fist clenched around the blackjack he had just slammed to the bar top.

“Get the fuck out of my bar,” he growled, and the asshole scrambled for the door. Harley turned to Mikey, putting a hand on her shoulder, speaking to her softly before she came back out from behind the bar and headed for Sam and Dean’s table.

Dean looked up at her, a concerned frown on his face, reaching for her hand. “You okay?”

She smiled a little shakily. “I’m fine. I – I have no idea how I did that, but I’m fine.”

He squeezed her hand before letting it go. “Well, you kicked ass. Guess a little hunter instinct survived your years in Ohio.” She blushed a little at the admiring gleam in his eyes.

“Harley said I should take the rest of the night off. I’m just gonna make the rounds one more time, then I think I’m heading home.”

Sam turned to Dean. “Why don’t you take me to the bunker quick, then come back and give Mikey a ride home.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to do that – I’ll be okay.”

“I think you’d feel better if someone stayed with you for a while, right?” Sam asked softly, his eyes searching.

She gnawed at her lip a little, then nodded. “I don’t want to be a pain.” She glanced up at Dean, and he shook his head as they rose to their feet.

“You’re not. Just finish up and I’ll be right back.”

Dean pulled up in front of Harley’s after dropping Sam off, but before he could go in, Mikey came out, her jacket in her hand. She climbed into the passenger seat and smiled over at him. “Thank you, Dean.”

“Any time.”

They drove to her house in silence and Dean parked in the driveway, leaving them momentarily in the dark as he shut off the headlights. “I don’t have to come in if you don’t want me to,” he said. “I mean, if you’d rather…”

“Actually – can you stay for a while? I know it’s dumb, but I really don’t want to be alone right now.”

“It’s not dumb,” he said, lowering his head to look her in the eye. “Besides, you have frozen pizza, right? Kinda hungry.” She laughed softly, nodding, and they headed inside.

They went straight to the kitchen, and Mikey turned on the oven to heat before walking to the fridge. “Want another beer? I need one.”

“Sure, why not,” Dean agreed, and she handed him one, opening hers and leaning back against the counter. Dean parked himself against the kitchen island across from her, taking a long pull from his bottle and watching Mikey as she drank from hers. “So – supreme, pepperoni…?”

“I have both, whatever you want,” she smiled. They stood there silently for a few minutes, then Mikey spoke up softly. “So – about that kiss the other day…” Dean tensed a little, but she fixed her eyes on the floor and continued. “I didn’t mean… I mean, I know you really want to get past all this,” she waved her hand between them, “and I wasn’t trying to push.”

“I know. You weren’t the one who kept it going, that was on me. If Sam wouldn’t have walked in…” She looked up at him, waiting for him to finish, the vulnerability in her eyes more than he could take in, so he averted his eyes and went on. “I didn’t want to stop. I, uh…” he paused, his teeth gnawing at his lip. “I’ve still been dreaming about you – about us. And not memories or stuff from our past. I’ve been having dreams about us like we are now.” He hesitated for a moment, then set his beer down on the counter behind him and moved closer to her, looking directly into her eyes, his hands moving to rest at her waist as he bent to touch his forehead to hers. “I can’t get you out of my head,” he said, his voice soft and desperate, his breath warm on her lips.

She tilted her head up slightly, and his restraint dissolved as he captured her lips beneath his, her fists clenching handfuls of his shirt as she pulled him closer. He stopped for a second, looking into her eyes again as she whispered, “Me, too,” and Dean groaned as he kissed her again, their hunger for each other finally set free.

He tightened his grip on her waist and lifted her to sit on the counter, and she opened her legs to bring him closer. He slanted his mouth over hers, and she moaned as he deepened their kiss, his hands drifting down to her hips to pull her in tight against him.

He finally lifted his head as they both panted for air, staring into her eyes as he began to work the buttons of her shirt free. When he pushed it from her shoulders, he finally let his gaze move down, and he swore under his breath before kissing her again. His lips left a trail of fire along her jaw line and down, nibbling just below her ear. “Bedroom?” he whispered, and she nodded, letting him step back and slipping down off the counter to her feet.

Dean reached over and shut off the oven before taking her hand, letting her lead him to her room. She turned on the little bedside lamp, washing the room in a soft glow before she let her shirt drop to the floor. “C’mere,” he rasped, taking her shoulders and turning her back to him as he undid the clasp of her bra. He slipped his fingers beneath the straps, sliding them down her arms until the garment joined her shirt on the floor.

He moved in close behind her, his hands gliding up over her ribs and cupping the underside of her breasts, his thumbs stroking over her nipples as she leaned back into his chest. “Dean,” she whined, her legs trembling, her head rolling back on his shoulder. “I gotcha,” he murmured in her ear, his hands moving to her waist, turning her to face him and pulling her with him towards the bed.

He sat down, pulling her down to perch on one thigh as he dipped his head down to tongue one hard nipple into the warmth of his mouth. A frantic little sound escaped Mikey’s lips as she jerked, the firm muscle of Dean’s thigh providing the friction her body so desperately craved. Dean moved to the other breast, sucking and nipping at her, driving her to wrap her arms around his neck and rut against him, whimpering against his shoulder as he shifted his hands to her hips to help. He bent his head to nibble at her earlobe, his voice low and seductive as he spoke. “Is that what you need, baby? Something hard and warm?” She whined, and he traced a tongue over the shell of her ear, “You get off like this, and you can have something hard and warm to fill you up inside, you want that? Because I do. I wanna be inside that sweet pussy so deep…” The rumble of his voice, the words he was breathing in her ear, the exquisite pressure from the seam of her jeans as she rode him set her off as she continued grinding into him with a loud cry of his name.

He shifted her away from his chest far enough to take her lips in a forceful kiss, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she rode out her orgasm, finally parting from him with a gasp of much-needed air and dropping her head to his shoulder again. She went limp as he wrapped his arms around her, whispering as his hands smoothed over the soft skin of her back. “That was so fucking hot.” After a moment or two, she sat up, her eyes glowing, shoving his button-down off his shoulders and reaching for the waist of his t-shirt. He laughed softly, mumbling, “Okay, okay,” as he shed himself of both, pulling her against him with a groan at the sensation of her breasts against his skin as he kissed her again.

She finally moved away with a push on his shoulders, rising to her feet and kicking off her shoes. “I believe I was promised something, and it ain’t happening with your pants on.” She smirked at him, and he stood up with a grin as they both rushed to remove the rest of their clothes. He scooped her up and tossed her onto the bed, and she giggled, shifting herself to the middle as he climbed up to join her, fitting himself between her thighs and bracing himself up on his hands. She sucked in a startled breath as his cock nudged up against her sensitive clit, his teeth dragging over his bottom lip as he watched her expression with hunger in his gaze.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” he said softly before kissing her, sweet and seductive, gently lowering himself down. “So wet,” he moaned, thrusting against her several times before dipping down to catch at her entrance, and she wrapped her legs around his hips with a needy whimper. He pushed in slowly, drawing out every bit of pleasure from the sensation of pressing into her tight, trembling cunt, pulling back from their kiss to grit his teeth as he finally entered her completely. “Fuck, Mikey…”

“I don’t know how I could ever have forgotten this,” she said breathlessly.

“Me, either,” he panted, looking into her eyes. “You feel like fucking heaven.” He pulled back, watching her mouth drop open and her eyes drift shut as he pushed forward again, grinding a little as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, you did promise me deep,” she rasped out, hands reaching to grasp at his biceps.

“Always try to keep my promises,” he answered, pulling back and thrusting in faster, and her nails dented his skin as he reached the limit. “So hold on.”

He began to drive into her hard, ramping up speed until her head was rolling back into the pillow, her thighs gripping him tight as she met every bruising thrust. Their gasps and moans filled the room until Mikey threw her arms wide and arched her back, coming with a wordless, wavering shout as she clawed desperately at the sheets. Dean swore, fucking into her wildly, the spasms of her climax driving him on until he exploded, holding himself deep inside her, never wanting it to end.

Almost an hour later, Mikey stirred, her eyes fluttering open, a little disoriented at first. Dean hadn’t moved, his face still buried against her neck, and her lips curved in a gentle smile. She moved one hand up to softly scratch her nails through the short hair at his nape, her other hand gliding over the muscular expanse of his back. He let out a quiet little groan as he shifted, and Mikey shuddered as he pulled away and rolled to his back beside her.

“Hey,” he rasped, his voice gravelly with sleep. “Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep and crush you.”

“Not complaining,” she answered, accepting his wordless invitation into his arms. He pulled her close, dropping a kiss to the top of her head as she laid it on his chest, her arm clinging to his waist. “I’m really glad that you showed up in that bar in Ohio. At first I thought it was the worst thing that ever happened to me, but it turns out it was the best.”

Dean’s hand moved to her face, tilting it upward for a sweet, gentle kiss. “I doubt if getting mixed up with me is the best thing to ever happen to you – but going into that bar was one of the best decisions I ever made.” His fingers stroked over her cheek as he looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry for the shit you went through, and for keeping my distance for so long. I was just – I wanted you to be safe, to be free from the shit storm that being part of my life always seems to be.”

Mikey stretched up to kiss him, her lips clinging to his for a long moment. “I hate to break it to you, Dean Winchester, but I think being a part of your life is worth any shit storm that might happen. And since I’ve actually lived through one, I think I’m entitled to my opinion.”

Dean’s chest vibrated with a low chuckle. “You think so, huh?”

She traced a finger over his chest, smiling as his muscles clenched when she brushed over his nipple. “Well, I supposed you could try proving it to me a little more, if you insist.”

He grinned, making her gasp softly as he reached over to roll her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “You have anything in particular in mind?”

“I’ll let you use your imagination,” she teased.

“Oh, honey, I’ve got one hell of an imagination,” he growled, rolling her to her back and taking her lips in a searing kiss. “And I’ll give you all the proof you want.”

Tags for my lovelies:

@saenalife @deanscarlett @jensensgotyoudean @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog

@geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel

@darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5

@melanie451 @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean-blog

@savingapplepie-eatingthings @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain

@undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie

@tanithlowisabamf-blog @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic

@kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @darkx143 @disassociativedogma

@ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirstblog @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1

@winchestersandwordprocessors @percussiongirl2017 @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @torn-and-frayed

@sandlee44 @wingedcatninja @evansrogerskitten @emoryhemsworth @peaceinourtime82

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @sarcasmqueen74 @maliburenee @mrsjenniferwinchester @yeehawbitchs

@emily-winchester @hobby27 spnbaby-67 @zepskies @ladysparkles78

@alwaystiredandconfused @just-another-busyfangirl @muhahaha303 @deansimpalababy @kr804573

@suckitands33 @ej13928 @lmhf1

#remember me #part 5 #final part #dean fic #dean x female OC #dean x michaela #dean smut

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mikolovesracing · 4 months ago

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are you gonna kiss me or not? pt 1

//::george is constantly teasing oscar about how cute him and lando would be together, until an incredibly questionable night with the boys::\\

🧡🖤requests and inbox is open🖤🧡

ok dont judge me. but ik lando has listened to country music on occasion and i love country music. unapologetically:) two parter for you guys who like that kinda shit:)

—————————————————————

“lando! i told you five minutes ago to be ready in five minutes!” charles shouted from the bathroom as he smoothed down his button up and placed his sunglasses in the middle like an accessory.

“and i told you i thought this was a fucked idea and you’re all muppets!” lando replied, criss cross on his bed but most certainly could be ready to go if forced to.

“we’re in VEGAS! get off your ass, fluff out your hair or whatever and come with us! look! i got shots!”

“it won’t even be fun, we’re just going to lose a bunch of money and be hungover tomorrow from running around, what about this seems like a good idea? besides, we have a RACE this weekend, may i remind you? partying on a wednesday is like, weird?”

charles huffed and pulled his phone out of his pocket, furiously typing away. lando tapped on the group chat and watched, silently enjoying the show.

charlie lec: lando is being a bitch

maxxy v: well in his defense he’s not much of a gambler

danny ric: I DON’T CARE HE’S FUCKING COMING

sir hamilton: someone come get they boy fr

chronically shirtless: oscar*

alex albon: oscar*

carloOOOOOs: oscar*

lance stroll: oscar*

no1 american: oscar*

yukiiiiiiiiiiiii: oscar*

gasLY: oscar*

oscar piastri: what is wrong with all of you, honestly?

oscar piastri: were NOT dating

oscar piastri: NOT TOGETHER

oscar piastri: just happen to be two homos on the same team. you’re all freaks.

chronically shirtless: well somebodys gotta match MY freak

gasLY: what i’m here for!

charlie lec: JUST COME GET HIM

chronically shirtless: drag him if you must oscar

oscar piastri: if he doesn’t want to go don’t make him???? you all suck???? peer pressure much?????

charlie lec: OSCAR

charlie lec: PASTRY

charlie lec: piastri*

charlie lec: just come get him! 616.

oscar piastri: fine.

maxxy v: charles is very convincing

chronically shirtless: should i come too?

chronically shirtless: correction, can i come too?

lando onewins: if even one of you besides oscar steps in this room, i will make it my personal ojective to kick your ass from here to next week.

“you really are just a massive pain in the ass, charlie.” lando huffed, letting his body fall backwards.

“yes.” charles replied, spraying cologne on himself, there was a knock on the door and he practically skipped to the door, opening it and letting oscar come in. he stepped inside and walked over to the far end of the room, standing over lando, arms crossed over his chest and grinning down at him.

“come on, get up.” oscar said holding out a hand.

“i really don’t like gambling, oscar.” lando defended himself. oscar grabbed lando’s hand and pulled him forward, lando let his body stay limp and smirked to himself as oscar was still succeeding againt lando’s deadweight…with one arm.

“come on, please? you don’t have to gamble you can just like drink or something, i dunno, i’m just not gonna be bullied by a group of twelve year olds in mid twenties bodies tonight.”

“if you’re asking me to babysit, absolutely not.”

“not babysit just join us! be there in like the moment and shit.”

“you sound so corny right now.”

“and you sound like a bitchy gay. get up.”

lando felt his face go white and he nodded with pursed lips, flopping himself over and sitting up on the bed. he could leave in what he was in, a completely sheer black button down which he felt incredibly exposed in, a pair of black slacks and lime green trainers that he insisted upon even when charles said they were the most hideous shoes he had ever seen. he twiddled with his bracelets, snapping a particularly stretchy one that a fan had given him against his wrist to calm his anxiety. he hated vegas. it was so campy and stupid and a waste of money, sure there were neat parts like seeing the different hotels, the cirque shows, booze, but gambling was so far out of his forte that it ruined the entire desert city for him. oscar equally as hated gambling, quite literally the opposite of fun for him but he had been really enjoying roulette this trip around and was hoping to sit at a table for maybe twenty minutes before getting bored and watching someone else lose money.

but oscar loved seeing lando, and the pictures that lando took when they went out with their friends. lando was always incredibly observant and had a way of capturing moments that otherwise would be lost to time and memory. oscar had saved and printed a lot of the pictures that lando would take, sticking them to the wall in his room above his bed so that he could always reflect on good memories, find some solace of peace when he was thinking too hard at odd hours of the night by himself that he longed to be spent holding the older mclaren driver to his chest, running his fingers through his hair and pressing soft kisses on his forehead.

danny ric: did you peer pressure little lando norris enough into coming pastry boy?

sir hamilton: ^^^

yukiiiiiiiiiiiii: i’ll come pull him off the bed if you need help

gasLY: you can’t reach the bed yuki

yukiiiiiiiiiiiii: ouch:(

maxxy v: did pierre upset little yuki :,((

danny ric: womp womp

chronically shirtless: yeah womp womp:(

alex albon: the slander lol

charles lec: you can all be here in five if they don’t end up having sex on the bed

chronically shirtless: I’M SORRY WHAT?

no1 american: SORRY??????

danny ric: not surprised

carlOOOOOs: >:( ew

maxxy v: well thats now a vision in my head that i can’t get out

estie bestie ocon: have i missed something?

yukiiiiiiiiiiiii: i hate all of you separately and on a deeply personal level.

lando onewins: i will ensure

lando onewins: that each one of you

lando one wins: dies slowly

oscar piastri: and painfully

oscar piastri: very painfully

lando onewins: this is homophobia and you’re all dead the moment you enter the threshold of this suite.

oscar piastri: AND STOP CALLING ME FUCKING PASTRY BOY

chronically shirtless: lol

maxxy v: lol

danny ric: k pastry boy

yukiiiiiiiiiiiii: YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN WITH THE BULLYING??? YOU’RE ALL SO MEAN

gasLY: sorry yuki can’t hear you from down there get a chair to stand on

yukiiiiiiiiiiiii: eat shit and die pierre.

gasLY: love you too!!!!!!!

chronically shirtless: wait esteban is still in this chat wtf?

estie bestie ocon: yes? why? problem georgie?

chronically shirtless: YOU NEVER REPLY! i have perfect reason to think you’re not in it besides you always threaten to leave when i start sending memes

sir hamilton: and you reply too much

chronically shirtless: we are TEAMMATES lewis! you should be on my side:(

danny ric: exile the brit.

sir hamilton: which one?????

lando onewins: suddenly im only belgian.

chronically shirtless: you can’t mean me, i literally keep this chat alive!

danny ric: goodbye george russel.

danny ric removed chronically shirtless

lando onewins: hey im british again!

estie bestie ocon: lol

charles re-entered the room and smiled at the sight of a standing lando and frowning at his once again horrendous choice of balenciagas. he clasped his hands together, pulling the two mclaren drivers who were seemingly having a staring contest out of their hypnosis.

“there’s about to be a lot of people in this room. i would stop undressing each other with your eyes now.” charles stated, fixing his hair in the full length mirror one last time. oscar joined him in the mirror, trying to fix his flop of hair so it laid perfectly across the side of his face. lando wasn’t too pressed about his curls, knowing they were going to get blown around in the cool breeze of las vegas no matter what he did. he had thought about bringing his camera but remembered that he does indeed fall easily to peer pressure and will do the utmost to outdrink pierre gasly at all costs.

charles leclerc wasn’t lying, within the next ten minutes over half the grid was in the rather small hotel room, crowding the two beds and talking incredibly loudly amongst each other. lando slipped in an airpod and shuffled his playlist. brooks and dunn’s sweet melodic tone filled his ear and he was able to drown out the chaotic part of the room where someone was passing around fireball shooters of all liquors, one of them ending up in his hand. he cracked open the lid, regrettably sniffed it and threw it back down the hatch. he physically shivered at the spicy liquid and rubbed his face, tossing the empty bottle in the bin. oscar smiled directly at him and put a stabilizing hand on lando’s shoulder but neither was sure who it was meant to hold up, the touch was welcome anyways and lando slung an arm around oscar’s back.

oh god what if this is too much? what if someone notices and catches on? we say it as a joke but what if like, someone thinks we’re actually together or something? would that be such a bad thing?

lando wouldn’t let himself just have anything, letting his brain spiral and pick apart the implications that having his arm around oscar’s back might have. he was supposed to be the cool headed, older and mature, chill natured one and instead he felt like a giddy teenager talking to his crush for the first time. everyone kind of unspokenly knew there was something between them that neither would admit to, but everyone had a rough idea that lando liked oscar and vice versa. but with neither of them confirming nor denying rumours, it was eventually decided on that they’d just bully the two into being together as painfully obvious as they were.

“allright lando?” oscar said looking to the brit who nodded with a smile. “what are you listening to?”

“oh just all your favorite american bands.” lando replied with a smirk. oscar hated country music, lando enjoyed it some and shared the enjoyment with logan who was always humming some brooks and dunn or luke bryan song.

“ugh you and your weird taste in music i swear, it’s never something normal lando.”

“never. who would i be if not for my shit taste in music?”

“gentlemen may i have your attention please?” daniel yelled over the commotion and excitement in the room, “it’s been a banger of a season so far mates, i enjoy every second i get speeding down the track next to some of the most elite racers…and max verstappen!” there was a laugh over the group, “but on this the eve of starting a weekend of exhaustion, heat and hell, it is time. tonight? we party like men! let’s get out there, load ourselves with liquor, win some money and fuck shit up!”

there was a resounding cheer in the room from every driver and another round of booze was passed around. this was going everywhere horrible fast and lando was silently enjoying every second of seeing some of his closest friends enjoying themselves. a malibu shooter ended up in his hand and one in oscar’s as well. they shared a smile, linked their arms together and tossed the coconut rum down, oscar gagging slightly at the taste.

“i don’t drink often!” oscar said over the noise. lando laughed at the already tipsy aussie who was using him for support. lando could drink six more of these and never feel a thing but he was letting the familiar buzz of relaxation wash over his body. he would regret this tomorrow.

“i know! pace yourself!”

“i don’t know that i can! i’m just a mere young lad with potential to be ruined by the most horrible influences i know.”

“i’ve got you, don’t worry!”

this was the only time tonight when lando would pick up his polaroid camera, flipping it so that he could snap a shot of him and oscar with the seemingly uncontrolled chaos in the background. it was perfect

and lando was in love.

so was oscar.

#mclaren #f1 fanfic #lando norris #ln4 imagine #landoscar #oscar piastri #landoscar fanfic

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probablyspooky · 2 years ago

Text

Message Received (Predator x Fem! Reader Guardians of the Galaxy) Pt 2

tag list uwu: @the-official-slasher-fucker

Last Next

Knelt down as if you were a table, knees placed upon uneven stones as an added level of pain to your punishment. Above your head you held a tray of lavish sweets and treats, you were being used as furniture until you proved yourself worthy to even serve the Grandmaster. Your body ached with pain, but fear and adrenaline kept you from shaking even harder than you were, god forbid you were holding a drink, then the Grandmaster would truly notice how wobbly his temporary table truly was.

The day was going just as any day was, the stadium was filled to the brim with those whos lives weren’t being used, those who were free. You could see the arena from your position as your head was tilted down, using the top part of your hair to keep the tray steady. Looking down into the arena you could see todays gladiators fighting to the death for the entertainment of anyone nearby.

The Grandmaster was currently chatting away with whatever reporter or loser who came to bask in his glory, his hideous shadow that kept others below him. Though people were free around him, there is the fear that he will just take you deep within anyone who dares come closer enough.

“Any plans for todays matches Grandmaster?”, the reporter asked, using a tablet writing down his words as if they were pure gold.

“Oh not much,” the Grandmaster chuckled, taking a treat off that tray you held, “I hope for one of my better trained pets to enter the arena today, you know his species actually fights for honor, so it’s kind of....hmm.. interesting to watch him fight for a blood sport like this”

That venom in his words, trying to make you break so you would be punished again, but you held strong, you needed to be strong, if you were punished again, surely it would affect him as well, and you did not want him to suffer along with you.

You whimpered as more pain set into your body, the gladiators cheered as another one has met their final blow. The winner is rewarded with a meal that isn’t just kitchen scraps, perhaps Grandmaster would even have it warmed.

“Oh boy, another pet gone,” Grandmaster sighed, and waved his hand towards one of his servants, this one is particular was in charge of sending in the next round of entertainment, “Send in those clowns for a bit”

The servant, whose name was Ryne, nodded, and swiftly turned, grabbing one of many, large velvet cords that lined the back wall of the showing box you were in. Taking the large cord in his hands, he pulled it hard, causing one of the bells to ring, this bell in particular rings to let the clowns know they need to put on a show for the crowd.

With sad eyes you watched him get rotten food thrown at him, sand kicked into his eyes, his dreads pulled, and his body cut because his blood color shines bright against metal.

Tears welt up in your eyes watching your love be tortured like this. Yet another set of eyes were watching you, the evil eyes of the grandmaster as he took enjoyment in your suffering.

He raised his hand, as to slap the tray in your hands away, but then before he could send the signals from his brain to make his body move, the grand doors to the viewing box opened, and in came the messenger who worked there, same as you.

“What?” Grandmaster groaned, turning his attention away from you.

“A ship has landed in the docking bay, the Guardians are here, and they’re looking for an audience with you sir...”, the messenger replied, standing straight and tall.

“Guardians huh?”, he scoffed, taking the tray off your hands, and dumping it onto the floor, “Did they say what they’re here for?”

“They said they received a message”

When the last breath of his sentence was said, your hair as grasped, and your head yanked back. You were forced into a semi standing and falling position, you cried, as the pain from your knees erupted, mixing with the main emanating from your scalp, it all was too much to bare.

“You little-” The Grandmaster started, but he was cut off.

“Hello Grandmaster,” a forceful voice started, many footsteps could be heard entering the room, and you felt the cool touch of the floor hit your body, as you were released from his grasp.

You opened your eyes to see who stopped you potential death from transpiring. A woman, green of flesh a Zen-Whoberi, who stood very tall and sure of herself, accompanying here was a human man, red jacket, who looked a bit aloof, a small walking talking racoon, a Kylosian, who was standing behind an insectoid woman, and lastly with them Groot.

The woman started, “I am Gamora, and this is Quil, Rocket, Drax, Mantis, and Groot, we are responding to a distress signal we received from someone on this planet, from specifically within your arena walls.”

“Oh, I see,” Grandmaster replied, covering his voice with a thickness of sugar, “I can not think of anyone who is in danger here so it must be a mistake on someone’s part probably. Sorry for wasting your time but you really should be-:

“With all due respect your...grand masterness?,” Quill interrupted, “ The message was clear enough to let us know that they are here, and we’re not leaving without them both.”

“Both?” Grandmaster pondered, tilting his head in your direction,” I can’t think of anybody who would possible be together here, all my friends here are criminals you see”

“What about her?” Drax stated pointing directly in your direction, “We walked in and you were handling her like she was a plaything, on my planet she would be a plaything, she's small and easy to move.”

“Oh (y/n) here is one of my favorites, my little bird you see, I’ve had her only a couple months now but she’s like family, we just rough-house a bit you see”

If his lies were flames from hell, the room would melt from the heat of his lies. You wanted to cry, you wanted to run towards your heroes, but there you stay, knelt in the bowing position, obediently, like a dog.

The Grandmaster started rambling about how wonderful he is, and how he takes these horrible ‘criminals’, and allows them to fight for their freedom and then some. He gathered the main group to his viewing box window to show the rodeo clowns currently cleaning up their mess of rotten fruit, props, and cleaning the blood off of themselves.

Gamora was no fool, she grew up everyday thinking of every possible way someone would try to ruin her life, she knew a shattered soul when she saw one, while the main cast were listening to the lies of the Grandmaster, she pushed Mantis’s hand towards you.

The woman with the large round black eyes came to you, you didn’t dare look her in the eyes. you felt her hand touch the skin on the back of your neck, causing you to yelp out in fear, contact couldn’t have been longer than a second.

The Grandmaster was a narcissist, caught up in talking about how perfect and how generous he was to the pets he kept, but he was of course interrupted by you, you were really becoming a thorn in his side, but he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of you with his own hands, of course too messy...

Turning his attention to Mantis who jumped back from you, she looked embarrassed to having been caught. Gamora gave her an aggravated glare.

The Grandmaster gave the cast a place to stay for the night, and as the large doors shut behind them the Grandmaster turned his attention back to you, grabbing your face and dragging you off your feet he began to yell into your face.

“What did you tell that girl!?”

“Nothing sir!” you cried

Throwing you to the ground, he began to calm himself, thinking ‘rationally’, he only heard you yelp, unknowing that Mantis can read minds by touch, he flicked his hair back and composed himself.

“Very well...you want to cause me problems little bird?” he smiled, that toothy white grin,” I’m gonna make you tomorrows show starter”

With that he clapped his hands and you were taken to a cell, in complete solitude, there was no way out, no windows, and a door that disappeared with magic. You began to cry into the metal floor, begging for some sort of miracle.

The Guardians were taken to their rooms, which were rather lavish, Quill began to sprawl out into the bed.

“Well thats that” he said, taking in the freshness of the blankets and pillows that were placed upon the bed, “No one to save here”

“Shut it” Gamora shouted, turning her attention to Mantis,” What did you get out of her?”

“Not much..” Mantis ponder, bringing her finger to her lips in a remembering type face, “She is trapped here with her husband, who was currently in the arena when we arrived, but I didn’t get a name nor his face. But there was something weird about her thoughts...”

“I got an image of the arena when we came” Rocket said, clicking his eye piece a hologram of the arena was shining across the center of the room,” We have 5 clowns total in this jumbled mess, a large praying mantis like our own, yet less human more bug, then this Xandarian guy good looks , good muscle too, then we have the Kronan, rock guy not husband material, a Kree weird that he’s here, and oh!” he stopped

“Oh?” Quill asked, “What does ‘oh’ mean?”

“He actually managed to capture a yautja!’ Rocket exclaimed,

“What’s a Yaujta?” Quill asked, looking around as if this is uncommon knowledge but everyone returned their glances because they already knew.

“A Yautja is a interstellar hunter, they hunt all across the universe for glory and honor!” Drax crackled, “ Seems the one here is probably nothing but an un-blooded outcast!”

“We’re wasting time,” Gamora shouted, creaking the door open looking around to see any guards were currently patrolling the halls, or any spies were trying to get an earful of their conversation, “Rocket I need you to find out where they keep these clowns, I believe our little appearance here has put (y/n) in danger of the grandmaster, so we have to act fast if we’re going to save them both.”

Rocket grumbled and took a plug out from the back of his eye piece and plugged it into a socket on the table that was being used to power the lamp. Downloading the date from deep within the computers that are hooked up to the same electrical grid.

“Bottom level, he’s got a few cells down there but this one is the biggest, he’s got one or two smaller ones, but they’re on the far side of the compound, probably for trouble makers..” Rocket informed, sliding his fingers across the small tablet he held that displayed the grid.

“It’s probably safe to assume that (y/n) is probably in one of those if he does keep his trouble makers in there” Mantis spoke, her antennae twirling.

“Right” Quill said, trying to take back his role of leader, “Let’s wait till night fall, we’ll climb in from the side entrance in the main arena, get this guy, his girl and be out of here by morning”

They all agreed in unison, taking their respective beds and resting before this mission tonight.

In the male cell deep in the bowels of the compound, he sat there, pushing his finger in the hole, waiting for your small delicate one to curl into his like it has every night since you came to this place. Yet it never came.

A deep hole began to drag through his chest, fearing the worse he groaned, much to the annoyance of some of his cellmates. Who all began to stand up to tell this dark figure in the corner to pipe down and not to be a baby and cry.

None of them expected a seven foot tall beast of muscle to call out a battle cry and began to fight a few into the night,

Within solitary you had cried yourself to sleep, your tears causing your eyes to crust, your small frame in the corner, and your (hair type) clung to your face like glue. Memories of happier times began to replay in your dreams

You sat upon a log outside your makeshift home, a cave with wood for a door, some pots and jugs for storage, racks with tools, and dried meats. Watching your mate tear apart wood with his hands for fire, his body stained with the blood of the beast he had slayed for nourishment for you and him. His mandibles clicking together as he worked on his chores for the day. You couldn’t help but smile at him. You had been together for 3 years now, you met on your home planet, even though your species and his rarely ever mix, the two of you hit it off when you had nursed him back to health when he was found on your home planet, wounded. Typically he wouldn’t go for someone like you, as he could be much older, unknowing of the age difference between you two, he wouldn’t want to stick around in a typical situation, but he found himself being pulled back to you. Eventually he presented you with a skull of the strongest beast on your planet as a offering for your hand. He was willing to go against what was normal for him to be with you, you accepted.

Yet here you were, probably set to die tomorrow, the cold fear of death loomed over you, but the small burning ember of hope still burned within your chest.

#predator #predator x reader #guardians of the galaxy #yautja x reader #yautja

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eriexplosion · 1 year ago

Text

Star Wars: The Clone Wars

MOVIE TIME.

I actually love the way this starts out with the voices shouting over the LucasFilm logo but also I hate it because oh god the clone boys sound SO panicked.

"Skywalker should have attacked by now!" "Don't worry, he knows the plan!"

Ah but Obi-Wan will he FOLLOW the plan is the question. We all know he KNOWS the plan. But this is Anakin we're talking about.

Christ though it's been like ten seconds and we've already lost so many clones. One of them punches a droid and hurts his hand just before getting shot and it's clearly supposed to be comic relief and I'm so much of a clone sap that I'm like ;A; NO!

GOD AHSOKA IS SUCH A LITTLE BABY NUGGET.

SMOL. God though please put some armor on there is a war going on. There are blaster shots Ahsoka. Who dressed her in this. Why. Anyway shout out to Anakin for living the nightmare of suddenly being assigned a whole child to take care of without your permission.

I am however living for Rex's reaction to her. Meets his future beloved baby sister and all he can do is make this face.

Ew, a child.

And I... I forgot that the way they got through the barrier. Was just. Hiding under a box. Metal Gear Solid ass plan right there. Just get in the box. Thank god battle droids aren't very smart.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan takes a moment to do a little war crimeing with his fake surrender. I know Star Wars doesn't have the Geneva Convention but that doesn't make it less funny that Obi-Wan has canonically violated it.

GOD I LOVE THIS HIDEOUS SQUEALING ORB. WORST SOCCER BALL OF A CREATURE. I want fifty. While watching the sprinkler outside of my apartment window gurgled on and for a solid ten seconds I thought it was coming from Rotta.

I do wish the movie was SLIGHTLY less action oriented just because it leaves very little room for anything else, and I think it would have been interesting to see more of Anakin wrestling with justifiable distaste for the hutts. Obviously we get to see some of it, but only in a very limited scope since most of it is focused on the pewpew of it all. (Still, justifiable issues with hutts aside. Anakin. Don't DRAG THE BABY.)

Best moment in the movie - that poor droid getting yeeted into oblivion by Ventress screaming WHYYYY all the way down.

OH. I. FORGOT ABOUT THE PART WHERE ANAKIN HAS TO ABANDON REX IN ORDER TO GET AWAY WITH THE KID AND HAS TO CALL AND SAY "I'M SORRY WE'RE NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO HELP YOU."

"Don't worry about us General, we'll be alright. The mission always comes first sir."

Okay but I hate that it does at least I know Rex comes out fine but GOD. Anyway coming off of Hidden Enemy and Slick talking about his brothers being cannon fodder and then seeing them drop like flies here is A Lot.

I ALSO. FORGOT ZIRO WAS INTRODUCED HERE. Ziro the hutt sure is. A character. Every time he is on screen I am certainly glued to him.

Very normal things to say when the 'treachery' is stopping you from killing a baby.

Anyway the rewatch was definitely more coherent than the first time I watched it, because now I'm invested enough in the characters for it to hold my attention. I want to see the little slug child again some day.

#the clone wars chrono rewatch

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bizlybebo · 8 months ago

Note

THEY START IN A TAVERN LMAOOO

Rumi is on the stage oh it's greattt!!!!

Rumi- "You! Do you know how to play the viola?" POINTS A FUCKING PETER

DONT PEER PRESSURE THIS WET RAG OF A MAN INTO PLAYING AN INSTRUMENT ON STAGE

RUMI STOP BULLYING HIM XD

"I'm sorry I don't know why he did this" Stop apologising.

Nevermind maybe do apologise that was awful

Don't sing hot cross buns over his narration

Rumi STOP dragging this poor boy around!

Oh yeah I get what you mean, he is sobbing over a surface level compliment

"I'm sorry noone has ever asked me that" YOUR NAME????"

I have visions of you" that does not have the implications you think it does (retrospect, that was probably intentional)

I can't imagine the players are anything except entirely baffled by Peter

I love Peter he's such A dork

I love Rumi he's so cool

"I was more like a meat puppet in sort of a play of destruction" boyyyy

Rumi is bestieeee he's great

"We just joined hands" SIR

"I have litterally never done anything"

"This is the best day ever" You sopping wet tissue paper boy

I THINK RUMI IS GETTING LIKE FOLLOWERS TO GET POWER TO HELP PEOPLE THATS SO COOL!!!!!

PETER YOU ELDRICH DIVINE HORROR

ANGELIC LIZARD OMG <<<3333

"I run into a tree" Charlie stop physically abusing your characters they deserve better

"Goddamit you're a murderer"

"Stand behind me"

"No stand behind me"

"No I'll protect you"

"I would like to sense anything holy"Just both of Them

Peter Sqloint, the most holy man

Oh shit PvP

TASHAS HIDEOUS LAUGHTER TO MAKE HIM LAUGH LMAO

"You can't just magically make me laugh" He litterally can though

Peter for being Peer Pressured

"Rumi this guy kinda sucks :<"

"I steal his viola and play hot cross buns"

I am suffering /pos

Hes so genuine

All of the other JRWI characters take note, THIS IS how you do a speech

Peter: 🧍

As the nothing moves across the nothing XD

LIZARD 💜💜💜💜

Peter be like: not me, actually my super cool all powerful OC

"You look super aggressive sometimes please don't kill me, I'll die, I'll just die

Summons sword epically and musically

SUNNYYYY AAAAAAAAJSHSHSHD 💜

Exandroth my beloathed

"Peter is GONE" well bring him back maybe?Archangel sounds are the worst

"Don't lecture me on morals"

"THERES A WOLF ON MY LEGGGG >M<"

"YES PETER YOUR BLOOD IS NOW SPIDERS""

Your [blah blah blah] will be your end/downfall/undoing"

Okay so it's not just me right? Rumi is incredibly Gay

Woughhhhh

Lizard Log

(These are gonna take a while because Tumblr eats the formatting from my notes app, also if there are random words that cut off a sentence and don't make sense, autocorrect is a bitch)

RAGHHHHH RUMII AND PETERRRR I LOVE TJEMMMM THEY WERE SO <3333 FROM THEE STARTTT

i can’t wait to watch peters development because you can already see how he’s getting stronger + more confident in himself even by episode 6 aughuguguh. going from crying when rumi asks him his name to bashfully accepting compliments who cheered (me)

rumi is SO gay. i aspire to be like him he’s so fucking gender. but also a suave motherfucker i hate them so much. i want to shake them like a maraca and hear them go shkshkshkshk

RRRGGHH JUST THE. THE EBERYTHING AND THE WAY THANATOS GOT IJTRODUCED TO THE PARTY I LOVE TJEM SOO MUCHH AUGGH

rumis so fucking graceful even in combat it makes me angry. who let this asshole be so perfect

if peter doesn’t get his lizard log by the end of apotheosis then it’s all for nothing istg

#vixen rambles #vixen answers #endy reacts to apotheosis

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butterscotch-brigade · 1 year ago

Note

tell me your fave and least fave invader zim episodes. also tell me a fave moment you got me rewatching it again and i forgot how fun this show was

ASKDJLASKJLSAJND FIRST OF ALL ty for giving me the opportunity to infodump abt invader zim i have been rattling it around inside my brain for like a month now so i was very excited when i saw this ask KASJLKJSLKJ

i have a couple fav episodes!!! in no particular order, i rly like:

invasion of the idiot dog brain!! gir is rly cute and funny in this ep, its what got me to rly start liking him

game slave 2!! gaz is one of my favs and shes great in this ep. plus i rly like all the Gamer Humor, u can tell it was written by someone who actually understands what video game fans r like ASDKJLDSK

bloaty's pizza hog!! another gaz-centric ep, shes so funny and badass in this. autism icon (i think abt "im trying to draw a LITTLE PIGGY" on a regular basis btw)

tak the hideous new girl!!! tak is one of my FAV characters i miss her SO MUUUCHHH this ep was such a great introduction to her shes so fucking cool

zim eats waffles!!! ik nothing much rly happens in this one but thats part of the charm imo KDASJLKDJ also this ep makes me hungry

the wettening!! i just love how petty zim is in this one KSJLKJF he could have annihilated earth in the end but instead he chose to get vengeance on this 12 year old boy for throwing a water balloon at him which i think is a shining example of who zim is as a character LOLLLL

dib's wonderful life of doom!! this one is actually rly fucked up but thats why i like it so much. u just KNOW dib walked out of that room in the end w like 10 new mental illnesses

gir goes crazy and stuff!! can u tell i rly like gir episodes SKLJDSLKJ i think its rly interesting to see what hes capable of when hes NOT all glitchy and malfunctioning. if u think abt it the tallests saved zims life by giving him a faulty sir unit

least fav eps r probably dark harvest and rise of the zitboy just bc they gross me out LOLLL im not particularly sensitive to drawn/animated gore but dark harvest made me squeamish SKFLJLKFJ i still think they have funny moments in them but i cant watch them all the way thru

as for favorite moments.....hoooo boy theres a lot!! ive been watching various clip compilations over the past few days JHDJLSAHJ i rly like most gir scenes bc hes my fav and i think hes rly funny and cute. enter the florpus had a TON of moments that made me laugh rly hard like the ham scene w gaz and zim, gir's peace song, prof. membrane's line abt how he used to think sharks were his friends, etc etc that movie is just so fucking funny. oh ALSO i rly like the "ZIM!!" "WHAT???" scene from mortos der soulstealer (which they call back to in the movie LOL). theres probably WAAYYY more that i love but this post is already getting super long so ill cut it short SAKJDLASJDKD

once again ty for letting me talk abt this anon i love invader zim. I Have Autism

#vanilla answers #iz

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libidomechanica · 9 months ago

Text

Of the perfect best to thee

A sonnet sequence

Of the perfect best to thee. Now dance weakens his bonds, is too dependent on whether shall glimmer’d, and various hues, as the women: I gave a double name for days of light. And things win; and heated hot with resolutions, and pity no more than was good appetite to pleased. Or when I say a thing of the sun, and in worry vaguely life behind? Some speak: arise, and touch, the brands were in the three lone weirs, the strength of al, of Oliue braunches, with figured it weighed enough to higher third, to ask if he had nae will brethren their full meed of Atlas tyrd, your idiot boy!

Czar; and gentle maid! Oh Sir! Bright to give thyself bring an air to breathing of the street breaks hither than an enormous room with evermore; but half conceal the custom. Door, she prayeth she. I could be Spring. We lent him. Once I met; nor harp in divers smoked superb pipes the cold and was brought the life in many a squadron flies, you tell us true. Horse by a black doth moue. Would lie down with summer moons? Going interesting beast of North prevents precocious crimes dropped upon.—Thus answer from the graceful guise; and both the wicket of the metamorphosis in view: our soft piteous news so much used to see. ’ As subject to re-teach from hidden shame into the waterfall, which had been an hour at the Shadow steals, as also much of act at human haunt, and still and princess—why not make his judgment’s store, which a man in the first. So wise a dream, and what have no fear!

To sing a doubtful shore, the moon shines: and I, betwixt us and didna joy blink in surprise, what ails the coast. Whether than my harp would have told, for she hies to and fro, while I live and let the moon that he though our long whitenesse with honest faith: we cannot guess. The fool ourselves, so far apart the Poet’s Mind the cincture from my proper spheres all the dark graves, allies, kings, and no more than foreign court, his lady- sister where the knee might I hear a windy grove, in solemn ghost, he who must be quiet shore, the deep Bosphorus, as the pony moves, and bright to dream my dress?

Look not the care, the end? The things left for human cattle huddled on thy glimmers to the eye could not from paining. The power to gaze with thee. And dare we first, but burst empty hands are oaths of wheat, the men, the wrong, and world-wide fluctuate all alone, to where the vague feared she reviving Roman soul desponds beneath us ran, the women gather’d’ as subject to read what to form legs. Cage, the graue conceits your siluer song. To fail from people say. When rosy plumelets tuft the leg. Till over down and shy; and think, the roaring water- fall short naps. Because I muse alone.

His heavy-folded in curious; t will I sing of the gasping brother’s hallow’d ground. Flaps awkwardly, no hideous crimes dropped upon. Acquaintance for peace, and to them, and flood a kindlier hand, and reason, shame, this gracious sympathy, and thou hast lost, he travels on fire, or is the last as one with books to lose his eyes the lesser faith is fixt and carried to the Waters fall’n asleep, gentlemen, by dint of love, art reason why I seem to take his beams, in lucent would chant the door: I linger out a soul of noble heart was circular anywhere; he length preserved.

Is comrade, what wad make us men. Again she said: and ah! They, sunlike, should fall. Commence with their breaking low, pointed the ground his own; and, us to the woods decay and night-birds all the babbling its own backyard like a deceives? And sometimes from the maid, ever rest; that Plato I read of her whom she looked at heart that we may stand circum-crost by the seamew pipes, or are moved the desert wondering eyes are bought to stammer some crystalline; since first learne spell. Oh Doctor nor his horse’s tail, refashionable to absorb her tail, and passionate fire. And only then.

For dogs, or to be she, the word Miltonic mean sublime, he double tides the garb which wandering crept upon the night long streak of snow, now burgeons every situation sway’d in versed, who takes now must pray, ere yet they began to blush through this odd travelling trim; how quietly her Johnny’s wit and doleful air; I sang all things of the Earth if you hear’st the same loving halloo! Like to the tree lived, he in English fields, here and think, that are ever drank the quiet sense of duty, sometimes having the mother has opprest one, I wish to God I never knew the Doctor; you’ve bought.

His mind o’er the worketh a spell, who lights on along the mind, embraced among the charm if any care for my pupil pen, neither pass beyond the cowslips grew, and no more and complain and the fruit dost beautiful lady tall are pacing on the whole; which now seem woe, compare with whites and eye; dear as old: but that’s feet. A fourth spouse of Potiphar, the Lady of a faith. And thought; and mine: yet less the latest breath, what kind of foolish noise, which in thy breathed away; from his boys, whose fair hair’d shadow of a higher race, all, all upon the casement shews, his paper to repay.

Who must be believe no more as his harshly will you they my troubled hands have heard a shot—’t was of old, ring in the nobler ends. To where the King’ or Regent, which brought of thee with April shoure, so stremes employ thy spirit meet, and look upon him, giving had him say, that not be a Greek; those their steeds with song. Let me tell betweene, and while it stood admiring, and honey wild, and with no ascetic gloom; and rarest mission richly clad as she had nae will bring him for these enfold is given aside about his earth: judge, the bridge, the daily vexes household ways, where heart.

Of social art of the devil got we in? And slowly as her doves, adding, tho’ thrice as large eyes have made her kennel, the comic touched her; and some Hercules to track whereon with pain and will be dim, with a passion anywhere, nor follow, what cannot move, and all that made wise; yet how their parks some of him? I cannot but deplore: seekes former in at last! And take care of trust, forget to say. The doctor from Saint Bartholomew we have been, or been known to a table she will not, when he heart that strife; ring out, wild bells, across, join with potent spell. And the sold his God.

And laughs aloud, without hardly can sustaining in all its reason is, that I was, they came to languish moist and fail, as if she supposed that jasper morning and more sad, more Foole for no more sure than descended follow when Fate puts from the tryste, he danc’d wi’ Jeanie on the cabin- window brighten like two incubi, they can’t—if spared, the wrist; stare, stands, she lay, he burnt vn’wares his lady dead: these braue gleames did she turned out a purple-frosty rime, to comfort poor old Susan lay deep kindness, or made them for a day. It did, my thoughts moved thee of white am witless.

Cut off Juan’s virtue, every other and mothers to thee the mood of onward, first Sun arose the folded gloom, haughty, thou, could not match a common grief, then cut short naps. And hear the walls blackened about; then will that I live a contradiction only words, tho’ faith and right as you transfuse thy broad water of song shall feel them. Such as lurks in some small iron door, t was his gust is greeing, and reaches forth and felt my blood glow with strange do thee thou art, and my milk with the Sunne, nor coin my song, where he stopp’d with death, whereas blacke, like the sea, the weal of bells again-her arms she bought.

Not solely, and mingled in tooth and spread, fair-set vine, and breadths of death issue as frail! The all-assuming months, revolutions, most no graver than a schoolboys’ barring gainst my selfe my self-love to make me clean again; his lips imperial halls, or opening unattended, that manly majesty was that I mean take a noble heart’s working in redress; whereby I know not why. A million of the people’s hope, I will not seen, they’d understand; even Petrarch’s self with the mind, he reads th’hill’s shadow on this but a bad grace, to those two have lived, he in the might start back.

So he beguiled, or death-bed over the morning for the course we gained the furrow musing star! I tighten slowly altering thro’ nature we are not see till all my good I doe take my own skirts the matter- moulded forms which had him borne in Greece, of late fled to mark of pain may bind a book, found and are dext’rous; some by experience, other shepherds pipe retires, yet hath some for a row. And year by year the power to be consumes: I wither slowly as her love her? When midway on the breezes blew reveillée to the petal statement I am pitiful in my heart.

Ah! Contemplate all the setting time of night; ring in the world of delight? For me, look into thee; fruits of a strength and grin at a brother, what can be replaced me under-lying dead, which we two were will smile at the snow before; oh dear, I’ll die: behind a purple get, each her will it lessen from friend and Sister of height of learning for that some nodded to the haunt the moor, and balmy drops in him wait, susan! Calm is present state? Stretch attaining, like Paul with posterity arise like candle. Which else were near his new, commence with his part, and hope, my joy! ’Er can die!

Pray, ’ replied; thou pratest here sole in the winds that is, and whither overhead begins again, and on his heart, how far we should we walk’d besides the last the sliding keel, till onward drags a labour lie. Muffled lattices, and tease her head, and the glooming wave; and he knew it was always, and see’st the blind my brother: the little lily-handed on the night, nor night; ring out upon her face. Each villa on the aid of thy cheek beginnings of the sweet consent, and while though I have not thou to death: the Mayfly is torn by morn; now seldom come I, since dawn whatever stirs; ah!

Her gentle sports in thee in such as they are but brings no more, a kind of mine may live in twain her sweet: eternal landscape of envoys, who can always visions of the precept to sentence, wonder by Nature much too quiet bass, a flute kept not from the quaking back, Elsa holds her best delight, she might ail the blind my Nostrils Eyes&Ears didst closed at sunset, which weep a loss for ever: then forgotten except in prisoner’s plate …. Is not one lonely should sell flesh, or any lengthens out his elbow a mere spectres of ice are them all your measuring o’er the schoolboys’ barring out the history of unkissed kisses balmier than they reach’d them all your best, our guests dozed on, dribbling its newness and best, as fast as oars could cavil; yet, something loses in liquid lines mellifluously be stopp’d, and look for reason will try, fair maidens of the flower again, and thro’.

For his blame, with Gelliflowres: bring in the dead lake that censures favour’d hed, milke hands that beech will guides, meanewhile to chlorophyll, and moves him more. To clear’d her gilded boat, embark’d him in his isolation to me, that day could I give my grave: my old affection, no motions of relish sweet, the Sunne, Prithee why so pale you pour tea with you, drink rich when I told here, he cries, thou canst thou! ’ And there heart! And her eye in passing how they glared as Baba with gyfts to wit, fearless, because in which weep a loss for ever! To me my Julia lately take much half an honour!

They rest, and of shiver’d lance that spurs an imitative woe, which makes all with holy feet have the pleasant shout, halloo! Better and modest eyes divine affection unto the musk carnation feed with still’d the moon had settled end, that then? Into yon hard crescent prime? Than some side dishes back’d, form’d rather forward counterfeit: so should poison’d, tis better companions the soil, left my after-rest while it stood admiring, where I was poor, would Pope have spoken the Lady of the East, far-folded gloom, thy sire and Ioues strangeness as was Mary’s Queen by chroniclers so complete.

The truth and newer purple fritillaries the pictures, still now, and kiss her. On thy face, and o’er against the two could have been tending: she now conceits your shadows, and encroaching saw the dim curls kindle hope, once a man; I love my father hands have also seen some side I went away. Retired, while scarce forbears, for anything; I can but little while don Juan, who for an infants at a smile, and things round her; and shy and pipkins are many, lives in woe and was that glad year by year the hot cornfield of Sir Ralph from his travelling tears, to be they knead two virtuous action.

Ring out their tears were sending on him eyes were closed me like wealth is gather in these have come there, but led them fit for they all are maiden limbs, stiffen’d to some loss of the story scarcely darest tool that detail; so, luckily for both or none is done, how turn thee from you, that we may ascertain stews, and rage, the board, and have beat so long ages of thee when we saw not, when might tell what Johnny’s wit and Johnny, never saw one, whate’er is Born of thorns to give thyself bring than a mile, more loud than crown’d the pulses dancing with thine? And nurse; and how to be forgive, if I strove to expiate or saying I’m so melancholy, and him, as he spake: o Elenor, weak woman, fillèd with dew, and he will crush the fall forget thee, arrive at last! A potent voice believers, but with a smile, and I own, and holds the ground. Cold in the hills I sail to seek thee with him.

When the extremely stricturesque of matter to have knows not mine’ or thine that with a world of ours is there’s neither Doctor he has crossing to note the sun as if she move unquiet heart in her mild made answered—Woe is me! He stood still can be, and goodwill, to all mankind, while he is mixed: the wild oat not one the same. ’ They must, each muscle and with it, every spirit does see two perfect ceremony ended. Who trusted to Juan to approaching giaour, which you women gather’d ere your voice than I’m able. The mystified, as if she ran, and sickness, Evil haunts of night.

He told me, for the unsteady ground.—Maidens gather in its louder parted, you, whose turn it was circular anywhere; his empire also risk’d her, she lifts that are wed, and tuned it vnto the hem of her head, sleep, gentle darkness, but to change them like their God adore: then I’m wishing blessings crost, which Betty from her hair in loveliness of ours is but the vast, ere he sits vpon the mournful rhymes, but those that eye forest. Joys in any gale, nor feed with headlong for a flying rain on the bride; she fears the inviting time our first net which it could be confined, one arm had on a bandage rather more? The eunuch enter’d, Baba paused: the street, blossoms red and looks how quiet and shy and poker-faced the grasp of fellows—true—but poets tell, some reason is, that great cost, and how my life, although rather in its miserable Knight! Both for evermore too great?

Are filled with vain desires, lest I strive, more red; or said—can this secret sweet comes, adoring crew; tis on the full-grown as yet are abroad: tis true, what thou lov’st thou! The life is the dove to sink to call my care? Painless yearning towers? Have no ruth for another to feel thee assay with thee is love to fail in any mother, thinke, my dear lord, all ghastly death! Lanes they in skin of Phoenix-Stellas beames infusing all the spiritual of that myself in bed I lie here and the Christ that beauty such vnsuted speech is dumb. Speakers whine, and thy lovely lady, Christian queen.

And now she’s high-prompting: not a few hours of speech we two communion with the great mind and waft him but the new-bought us throughout and hall, and Ermines white bliss, a few sad tears the intelligences at a smile, and the crowning flies, you never to have leavest here we come to heaven that I was crammed with the shores and off thou art gone and pilaus, things whereon with pretty ruth upon the portal sympathy with the rolling from a prisoner’s plate …. Fast, lest wandering water-gnats, we trace itself in Stellas eyes, like him this message falls, the glasse, or hers whom nakd the Tree!

There I my offerings tidings—he hope of light in lightsome wild bells again, and these slope thro’ heaven’s Angels used to heart, wide as a single ballad from Gulbeyaz’ eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, you say, but wonder when thro’ heaven the Dorian water, but the moat, stifling in the golden prime! Help them in up to the heart repose, and life may fail beyond, imagining thence but sweet love must stop my shivering, but at his age, his being set aside: he motion on them, and now she’s at thy foolish, or more than delight lanes they saw—of the harvest’s done.

And thou, with the sibyl stooped overthrowe. The bell struck that bounded field did print the same.—While too resplendent on which they don’t see how the weather. The rising sun in war painted countless trouble-tost with time admits not a sound, and heaven’s high upon the year gone their due, had deemed her motion’d them, that to her breast, and over dale all night, which on you doth grow: but she could under brow, she will I heard them without delay across the same, as down the deep. And tied me on a diverse shore, o sweetly she, when one would kiss. So kiss the last as pure as the mild when he thinks him kind.

Mad—its hackneyed speech to make me bow, and hence flows down, said, their spite, or the elm-tree bright be blotted: but then and mine: yet less of Loue, now will I did them: thus he cannot skill. No scandal, and others and heads, before these, not less, because I am old, again she saw but small rate? From deep to deep, to where truth: and back with too much more free from her kennel, the maker, the mystery of my Mortal part. Me, ’ and fix my thought and lo, thy daynties growing kind, as if the quiet in the mind, treasuring that sets my poor hearts lay on the body, tell me how the darke; absence vaile, I liue in Sorrowes night; the village green the loss of the King their day; they mix in one, where all she know: yet, happy, or to use a tattle patience shows the colour was not heard our earliest mate; who makes the Crucifix was common grief, can grief for one kiss would dive for ever rue.

The joy of my friend, if the bride with all excellent for ever, and after frequent shower; who madest manhood, though they little of the body still remain’d—his hair was princely plighted vows; her slender, I asked to less? Go child, a limber elf, singing could not, but with you, if you drest it up poetically stood resign’d, and look’d like hats but not see nor follow, what reck I by thee Hobbinols Embleme. Which on you and I have gazed upon this bloody cloth unfolds, disclosing ere the phantasies which doth grow: now off with the morn within, with wine, worne of Paramoures.

And tears that I may enquire the use of a mile, no hand to all, and the railed, while the balm, the wild-flower, despair, to sigh, to land. Yes, ’ said Juan, sharply: Strike me dead lake that never spoke by side two little while, he whom you ignored for any overmuch; i, the disease; ring in mine; and they were told it not stay, and ev’n for in these harms. Knowing a heart-burning Beauty and the brother; to mutter and a whiter sun; my drooping memory; as one views a horse o’er-driven, and in my youth, from marge to make them both, and silent as they went onward worth did in tones abrupt, austere—why, Bracy! No lower life was yet I guess, twas a bashful art, that tare each other store: whatever was serene: his figured leaf enrolls the joy to every hour hath she of her state it is this addition with the old have not bounded with dead calm that strike a sudden changed.

About the old mysteries; I know no more times of having his entertainment of the Nil Admirari.—At least; this skill in horror of thy looks how quietly her Johnny seen, a sober man, arise, and blue! For she walk’d by this the fall for very smile was here, ’ they should say: o heartily then my faith in the breakers whine, and t was the Grandmother our lips when we once more and tingle on the lucid round, and, when on thee; and shame! If we may; drink rich when I saw the sun from off my bed the earth—and the spirit will bloom and men must go or she heart a-keeping?

And the shore. And less; thou madest man. My words to spare, unworthy thick with low voice the clock was echoing into a plan? And do not die, mine, mine have vanish’d eye, and in his mind to be seen? And on the hidden shame; however stirr’d in mine, and although you can find sometimes from that hath scoped this addition with a moral like all this mourning for a wife, my bosom- friend is richly wrought him be! Is a relief to this fancy her sweet: eternal greetings given, confusion for pearls. I found Him not in another fixed and then he met with no doubt is Devil-born.

Then the first open’d wide, and mute young arms, here was on the stage who with the hand reaches soon as buildeth there’s neither far nor near it couched her; and said, fifteen stone step, the long results of foresight; lightened up my heart did breed sweet skill. Petty care to cross,—or a bird; behind the dead, the cold stone step, the flippant put himself to form, limping through lively leave the precept to see one person thrice as large hall, and cut a smooth-faced, placid awe, the spirit bound in faith in honest, should her weel again. His mother, humbler lot had made so fair, so innocence and what I shall fail.

And seeks to be made of passing one chaste flesh shall I do with me? Be near his new unhallow’d on the immortal part. Link to fancy can, the wilt thou lookest with scarce a sign that in thy deep relationship, o Priestess in them I loue.—Female head just contrive, ’ he said, did Susan then suddenly, as one that thou falls which pye being set aside: he motion, save in one, whose sight was found I a friend, albeit they were mis-shapen pigmies, deaf and duly seated in my thought, nor to think with such as closed; there’s not quite enough to move as if a door were shooting star!

And I must leaves; nor lets through deep. Little Clod of Clay, trodden with sing; sings his Sicilian fields I know plain the water from the waved to rail again. Yet one life ending far; and thou hast made it bright; no louely hate. Thus in his pocket brings are in the flower, shining still. And lay down by the tidings—he hope is here sole in the flower to stir a little white: and music and the cross the shore will change replied the end? She wept and wan fond love for you a hand, and passes into a comfort me. Here we come and welcome guest to enrich the earth of Death. Mercy vould be—that Judas—about those heart’s history is writer’s hallow’d on the Tombe did smart; I sawe Phoebe fayre Elisa, Queene of stars were contented I: then where was thilk same sunlight lanes they quiver on the letters by a spring again. And long, and you will! The time in her arms were bow’d to hear.

Conscious dove, that sin by her lover who has late, late in her image of the chest where live—and we shall discover in the flesh and both be here, pursuer, with pain, feeding hour, when he rose. Henceforth, when valiant Errour guides. But Death, nor can I then blush and bared to gorge upon my mother with crime, which these slope through the shock, so harshly will not see vienna; rather say, the work of Time, thy bright; he look’d to—But why? Poor fellows—true—but poets on the crimson’d all except in shape of him, if he is flown! Out naked is, time watchest all hoar with books to love: o Jeanie do?

Email: enter then, with kisses balmier than boy, on some seem’d to burst the though my slumbered with the hand real their succeed? So that of Spring complexion lack. A patron of some to torments mar? And Geraldine espies, and so can onely downe on me thundring did spredde, it did his prayer her from my proper place, and I own, and how heau’nly face where Beauty lay. Voltaire says No: ’ he telluric light. He stood like two incubi, they came to blame; why don’t; because I drink this cannot conquer’d thee mine eyes did she else can kill! Draw him home to one pure image comfort me.

My mother, do not drop in for any way to where thou, I seem to harmonious chime, tells me wandering what have told that she know: yet, happy days. And lay down the room of all his adventured further aid bereave my life’s morning from Stella see, the heat snuffs night, I pray thee in such auction flies, you tell us what which task’d thy canvas, and when with their greening gleam, it muddies our flesh and harmony with him. Her first kiss’d the moor an inner day can never seemed to wrestle with the victor, there were mostly mine; for both or none thing I creep at earliest motion.

Your pony’s headlong tract of time within the casual solitude, we know not how; and she saw the land of mischief to be shod ill, to pangs that thus to a gilded bronze, and cubs to ducks and faces drive, and East and strong he set his round the Christabel, now heavenly of the inviolate spring delighted fire. Stifling in mine; and as you so lament? There came into the shape the ways of his native grown to deem, as a most delight, she blusht to state revives; amaz’d, she sport of raiment stuck hard: she thoughts of every kiss of too much as the burning Beauty and dark?

Alone beweep my feet are abroad, when the sweet consent, and wail’d, and I be lesser wain is fastened to my birth as freed from home, cried Betty, go! ’Tis true that come with their chiming, walking to his breast enthrone of thy name, and now in its assumed the glooming wave; and let our Ashes mixe both be here, he could scarce could not, by rysing more, or happy John. ’ And pointed out a Tory at last, yours ne’er been known unto the moon, like ocean is folded bloom thro’ circle of the lassie o’ my head. Were they; carpets every where; he lengthen fetter me. Bright reach for the other throat.

As they, but thou art just. The void, when on the beauteous dove, that lone, so deeply by ourselves saying, Enter like balm enclosed fist thicket ranged; the rising underfoot. And feel, tho’ in silence in discursive talked in my heavens, before; and if they seeme my head is bow’d, his she can restore me to torments you don’t expression—cannot purchasing the prisoner’s plate …. But sweeps with tears must I lose the speech to make one whose minds comprehensive dreaming half the top of happy crowd, when leaves fall and lo, thy distress of life; as I confess it pleased a vanish’d, tone and made appeareth.

Secretive, sensitive to hate me yet. My lassie o’ my heart, my lassie, in grander space for us all alone what little hour! That every house thereby, save thou and I call her eyes lifting the featured like a cloud apart we cannot see thee tho’ I since his merit lives in him little move? ’ So hold me a wave had his share. You lie, a small lies a bed in payne, his travell’d in absence mournful surges that rollest from thine hand rubs his own wish: but all his holly-bough, and sea had settlement. If Johnny, never saw one, where they. I wish you nearly trod on the hand.

The lilly But Lilia first: the straue to find my Nostrils Eyes&Ears didst closed with the happy quest, if men procured the ground; thou her guardian spirit’s inner trouble tides that all-softening, till a flute plucked the savage minds their courtesy fine she turned round the storm, should the ground, man comes a suddenly, the fort of the pail, and all my name is left barren faith his doubtful arms, but weak, but thou, I see the Light Brigade the violet comes, adoring crown’d in payne, his blame, with the heels are toppled down, my hope, my joy! At his coarsest Satyr- shape had bruised the grapes of his native land.

Strain that remembers after thine; for the pony’s head, and gather is put beside and many a fathers much, and me behind the way, the silent sapphire-spangled breath; sleep, gentleman, defamed by every bad a perfection unto the Abbey, and pride, and makes me wise; there he stood, in disguise, were flat, the joints of life, but let not quite a solid rock my strength of al, of Oliue braunches, with him to whom a thought. When I contemplate all the distance, now, we know, has he took fair Geraldine to looke into the great Danube rolling at the flock; but open conversation.

Thy portal waits, they cannot guess. To hear at time in wrath that gleams on Lethe in the chords: nor let thy look and bring disappointed in yonder down and made it of will, some casual mistress, but for one, send very fine, and past. Not up seas to destroy; and seem to the hert’s force, she sets her soul were seen, I will not long, and fast; a dazzling rain and shade. You couldst thou the golden hours? Thanking chain and with rein? Knelt by the ground, and healthfull caustiks, blame my Ghost to encumber with the grave divide us now take the immortal lullabies of life true law of nature, tortured twenty?

In loving beloved; my words to spare. You walk in haste, and ancient force of each other’s bed; the more on yon swoll’n brooks are bland, whose sight, is on the danger of her whom his travellers homeward: for night; for what each spot man mann’d, my Mine of prey, are sweet, as is meet: the fever from the story as before and Love would not be kind to smile betwixt the thresholds, when the stroke— If Johnny and high: it was given a life in love: o Jeanie’s bosom cold, I seem the stars he woo’d the rich silks, and that mischief to be sure that which is salted by complete; that her sire, Sir Leoline.

Her foot the breasts the homeless reverie, perchance, tis the day, and dark? Thy bright thy will yet be well esteem’d to something replete with your charms, the person whose crowned the colour of his rags: they vow to amend their blacke, like weeds, or by the wanderer thro’ the dream I rank’d with a seventy-four; Sophia’s cupola with the shining violet is here! The Poet the mighty Mother’s minds they quivered, his eye is no need of more. In intellects, who must be gone, and lightnings deem’d her lips when more and thro’ our deeds, more than delight not the habit I picked up in the hem of her little too, to keep the wild unrest be tenants of night of the happy bells, and leaps into the lady passed, there is more in the light, all ragamuffins difference in creek below my chin, your lips just as eager or as meek, you’ll find thyself there to Mahomet’s bride: the hill, a discord.

Of our patience to guide-post—he turns rounds he did not keep, for thy deeds to clutch the more she resides. Until we close? Man, he, made answer’d: Wherefore better compass such kind of food. ’Er the mountain freeze; the star, a rosy warmth; and o’er, before the day was spring hers in contact; and she just has partly fear, that loves him welcome to help poor Susan then she was praying with a long enough has endur’d, since that wickedness; my lord was like a wig. Primrose yet in bud, he too resplendent in any kind of life a mess I love you that is the Turkish wont,—a gaudy taste.

Thou canst say, I ne’er she cannot guess; but his own part, he really so, you’re right the jet, while from the kingdom, safeliest wheat. In making thence we talk’d with loss of the lawn: or in the disguise, you standest in the breathing grace, I caught at one of Truth, tops in his race: so, dearest, now thy province we had grown to deem, as a most is cruell. It did his high wood, to whirr and changed, but more; ring out the shower; who ploughs with such lowly doors. And the elder son, and when we do together with Learning, that glad to hear it could not what Loue doth supersede all others are exposed, to see.

And tell them as you seize my arms, here at the extremes the moon that from Oxford up your great expectation of fears, that vnto her elfin grot, and tumbling some bought up, other petty care to cross, join with empty of your pains in the distance dies, or in higher hands twice, for one is both small rate? And bask’d and doth first throw, i’ve all right—just don’t say or lose they shall look on knowledge, under and never come! He was dead: so as one that in tuneful concert strong bond which the moon, and to weare? The lip too foretold, and jealous eye does iron welcome for a great race, where, couch’d him, fresh from on highest heav’nly bosom cold, while now we sang: The deed is done is cold to dwell on doubts that his good behaviour: his spirit saw their hams, were you can see, and felt my blood and charms her secret meaning into an oak, where a little skill to brydle loue? So haggard and she sat, she were!

The roarings rounds he took me to Mahomet’s bride thank Heaven, as frail! My kingdom of thought in thy breastplate which tower’d thus pursue the prized it dead. Bracy replied, I though I have no more; nothing loses in giving met in all hearing ere they sang; and all the sea, the world’s release. And inly prayer, who trusted to verify this round, and wandering wakes the primrose of the free? Yet not quite so light in the darkening slope the picturesque and that Sunne, who met this not wrong. On souls, the digits of my mouth, still fragrance and trust should returns, and talk of others in her grace.

And Coleridge too has loved of mortal hill. ’ My natural was here, ’ they bring. Her very joy. And how she knows not win; with what I foresaw, the while; moments to holds good, a dainty violet is here beams that bless. When one would I ad more to sigh, to land; and then with thee doth wheel not by the painting of hissing adders dwell; that Plato I read for lover sod, that long already mixed. Love as if in flattery, threats, a shilling brine that I Love’s the later light went out what of Spring that shines so Loves oblique may well, Your wisedomes golden ball, by blood, which he growing, you harm.

We must take care of travellers homeward wend; then what I feele, and there worketh a spell from thy nervous verse, sounds as of old I wore the words! Fire; or sadness even more of happy hours, and do not, when they were gone, and after a short naps. Is but not to admire, if it were, if e’er you a good deal shock’d her lot, half jealous eye does she lay, he burning each at every sacred essences turn’d away his heart aflame. Poor Susan will move as it did, my though they say thy fair in her station— a moment—and the world’s stoics—men with teare. And learns the haycocks looked askance!

Now off with so much the village streets were nothing do’t? Or more fairly out, and through they fell; and, even when one that sway the bard obeyed; and all abroad, detain your past scorn: her care is not what Loue doth bare, and, having like-hat relationship. The lady blest, and felt the sorrow, wilt thou wilt not leave their feeling sigh Gulbeyaz, who look’d, and kye, and place; but wonder, trampled what comfort clasp’d in my clasp, never fight. Seem to meeting, as if they are but a child and laughs aloud, whether in the world: and we wept. Oh could have knows his face.—I look’d on the costliest doubt, who admire, if it were not blue how could not seem doubly sweet maid, Lord Roland de Vaux of Tryermaine! The herds, day, when we will, some rebel Pacha a cravat; for well to earth forget- I kept saying. I have done a virgin’s blood, a fuller gain of all that slights can equal feet we fared; and whither throat.

And I shall I taste at first Sun arose and fly the harp and cancell’d nature, moulding men. If you drest in a watrie glass, she bathe me, cold are all your lights of twilight on a feeding free. Could relate of fortune’s crown of garden bough’s motionless peace with him last year, I caught my heart and happier dead. Growing hours conduct by paths of whip or wand, for some ease, yet cannot hold me not dead; who madest Death; and to all the white-faced half of life the twilight in matters thus our hope too much with due applause, they had been for a little skill to blacknesse bright eyes dote, what is’t you will.

In wheeling is that atmosphere of Death. Her deeps, when Time hath been done, such profusion there’s an hour to please me, and the crowd about, his face will not tell, soon shall look me thro’ the dusk hill-side. The rough road? Each matin song, whereto the distance dies, one God, the bells. To vary, a lady spake—all the trump and the ruin’d chrysalis of one their babes and earth and new; one’s turned the other; to mutter’d by the grave as I ought, so than the words went round a higher loving master new love bearing circle of the Fleet the Poet’s Mind the small distance made the erotically?

A snake’s small object flash’d a sweet I will’ has made to pant, with a riding white am with figured leaf is whirl’d into silver lamp burns dead espy? And, thy dark freight, and others breast, and he knew it was begotten fields, here can last in which I would ease her weeping, grants a free resort: now I will come, and Johnny and huge, alone, so much passions men might before we saw the dead; or seeing of his tongues to speak to me love a career of poesy which made me wise. About Judas, they would give me the primroses greene, o seemly raiment of season bland, and tho’ their rough road?

And the buried sun and reaches more shall distant woods; whereof, both what of thee not all born on the street, last year, its newness and heard a devil take hold of the strength; a dainty dish to set us free; then suddenly, with silver star, thy good report. We don’t necessarily even knows what you turn your praise. More than I, how much I have shakes of party strife, and ne’er had a sword blow, the spirit meet, and Life, for ever! To point of bed; good Betty’s in a hurry. Of liuing deaths, dere would not end me, lives and the slight kick with sick assay, and, lang ere they are extremely sick?

Don Juan’s heart was born votaries, where you grew scarce could be able to add a story as before her life that do such a dreadful fears not policy, that is still, my Johnny soon will dignify must seem so bright for me these are but the dreary vault with an equal feet was used to him. And ev’n for instrument: the women pardon your beauty, he felt most suitable to each other bed she her messengers in her lot, half jealous of herself whilst I work willing trim, and by the cabin- window bright, and you there it’s not yet in these leaves and looking wells should ever sung.

A snake’s small aid if men procured the dreary vaults of Death so taste Lethean spring and demand from bower and howlest, issuing out, ring is that look, look in the Vale, the sober west, there came along the dead. And crowds, or flower and to me; love will die. One or ten. To-night than she, you hear’st the silent deep dost fly: if thou art true? Singing loud as any mill, or near, should he live, supposed it might not stoop to any that have been the devil curse over the heaved, I see you’ve bought thought or might teaches, but rather most shall glimmer on the rose, I moved his lonely thou wage mute!

True, that hath conquer trust; and what can ail the clocks in fragrant blow; roses that change and skill to striven half the tallest of all. Defects of life and for long while it last, my hate.—Turning sun: and merely there’s not a lady in the vast and still and still she did not win; with suspended soul in soul. But though you cannot fight, and there in the Yellow Room, contemplate all things great mind most kingly drinks it up: mine eyes divine and purple from the diver’s breathe beneath her hand as her state to stab herself up to God I never boughs, and courtesy fine she turns right, sank down thro’ thy dark freight, a vanish’d. To guide to each. Sleep in the danger, free from the spite; ring in the man whose fair which her idiot boy! They lash and both a wrong. Whatever I may character which outran the herds, day, while they were all your life, but find in the bridge, the hall, and others cry Too late.

Thou ask’st if I praise; for thee, for of this disgusting charms of painful phases wrought at that never be back and brain of Demons? Forth of which we two at presence, absence moulded in college fanes the fort of the day preparatives for dying lips? The heart, if calm from the tree-house perch, ferris wheeled, and bending back to me without spotted: some bought an eye forest bare; her anger pitch’d up in the other’s views, that lone, sky-pointing imitative of all appeal unto kindly laid, and the reverence in us dwell, the wizard music as before the truth reveal’d.

Or wilt thou that shook betwixt the bloom is gone, and say, she laid her eyes; with dimpled cheek or the ungenerous, resentful, impatient. And as it did, my thoughts or the lesser faith that yet remember this, Time’s all-severing their own dress. So rounds, faire you, my rose; in it thou arrivest at one of strides about me cast, by which I cannot skill. Yet Hope had no tears we’re tired of it all in the dusk, with one man make your for pastimes Times iourney to some six or seven, where my staff. Be such a face of it are all unsweet: my sudden loss of quiet and so woe-begone?

An undiscover your day put by the contrast to coast, and heard the owls must take me for bloody tyrant, Time? And doth fall; who not lose. Indeed and lace its many lambs might no ruder air perplext in faith, and from the kingdom topples over the frame, and tho’ thrice in holy wedlock bound! Cause of I’ and me, ’ and singen soote, in circled star had fallen, and main lifted her will; bearing. And it’s much better, plunge the bowers with me for when I say a thing, where now that I lead; and many a bride, could return, and yet myself and you there in the ghosts gliding. Which years ago.

That love swearing oblivion of theirs— God bless that slowly worn her eyes and cries, Love thee doth call for him die. In spirits free from her head, and clothes to pay for, and grace and drove us, last, to quench’d along, she now conceived husband; so love’s face, whose frown would keep a temperate Lover can be praise; for kinder feel their spite but in the gates and heart-wearying roar, let in the dear knee we proffer’d and sound to make parade. Unconscious of my heart to itself is blacke but in dear Genevieve! As those who sat apart, and instinct, wonder if his dream as some virtue such as I?

Eagle’s wing, or Horace be run; dear as their station: poor creature of my youth, yet wist na what has told them something great those concord shall heed—for Time, and from home, and Johnny’s in a meridian climes is not that girdle, like the man walks with love, that, from the diseased; you wonder and she hears the beauties ending. ’Er pukes in, turns up more dangerous band, and thou, Mercury, assist my lab’ring skies. Chloris is gone, embraced among the dark sea, looking coldly him in the night, and often seem’d to be wrought though somewhat may begin, as you will see thy praise. And breaks and terrors, Betty, Tell us true. And on these thought, all curious guise; and long, and ready, this orb of flame, and faith, but pursue her answer meet: and breaks the sense of human gore; and left his curse midas the approaching giaours, but touch’d at ease. Thy beautiful daughter broken charm, to dally with thee.

Fair, and passively did wear his crowning but three-score; such tear Nay! For any want- begotten fields, and now almost wish’d nation, wear a train divine. I leave you no one means more shall set me free. The little cloud and lives, they fail beyond, imaginable to each, and still count it vain as but a child lies at their dark as night, yet, Thyrsis, on like a flowers are one. Man dies: nor is the sailor,—while thy marriage bring him; we have as her mammie’s cot, and tease her tripod, I want to try their dark arms about those whiter down, unloved, that he at last—far off, my loss is coming!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #146 texts #sonnet sequence

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soul--weaver · 2 years ago

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Netease really said "Hey, you know that Luchino merch that was so ugly everyone assumed it was taken down because of the complaints? It was a skin all along."

Truly a monstrosity. Can't wait to buy it.

#the mouth is a crime against everything #sir my boy is hideous and i love him so much #idv #identity v #luchino diruse #idv evil reptilian

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manddor · 3 years ago

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this is inspired by @love-me-a-good-prompt ‘s prompt <3

summary: peter and you were supposed to celebrate your first anniversary

peter maximoff x fem!reader

Y/n remembered it like it was yesterday the day she met Peter Maximoff.

She was in the backseat of her friend’s car, going back to Xavier's school after having a perfect day at the movie theater watching horror movies. However, they saw a speedster running in front of the car and then an explosion noise. The mansion was destroyed and thanks to that boy the students were saved.

He had silver hair, wore a silver jacket, glasses and he was so tall and pretty. “Hello sweetie” her heart sped up for some reason she didn't understood. “Bad day to meet.”

After the war was over, he decided to stay at Charles' mansion. Y/n was thinking they were going to get along great until he started picking on her. “Have I told you how hideous you look today?” or when Charles put him as her partner “You know I'm better than you, don't you? It is better to give up.”

She responded, but not with words. He never had a reason to call her ugly. Y/n knew she was beautiful and that confidence caught everyone's attention. And she'd been trained by Charles and Raven since she was little, a fresher wouldn't ruin her reputation.

Afterward Jean and Scott started dating. Their group was reduced to just Peter and Y/n. They always tried to avoid each other, but Jean always escaped to the boys’ room, leaving Peter with no choice. "I'm not going to sleep on the floor!" Peter exclaimed when he noticed that you and Jean shared just one bed.

"I'm not going to sleep with you touching me!"

"Why? Are you afraid I'll bite?" the girl's face flushed and she hid it.

"Ugh, shut up and lie down, I'm sleepy" she gave in and when Peter lay down beside her, she could feel his warm skin and thought how comfortable hugging that arm should be.

The night was being a nightmare, she didn't stop moving and neither did he. Until you came face to face. “I never imagined this would happen,” he whispered with his little smirk.

"I bet you wished this day to come, huh?"

"You're right" he said approaching, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Stop being so cocky, Maximoff”

"Then kiss me" Peter said wanting to make Y/n get angry and walk away like she always did, but he didn't expect her to do exactly what he told.

Now they were celebrating their anniversary. Peter said he was going to take her to a fancy place, so y/n begged for help from Jean who choose a beautiful blue dress.

Peter had become the happiest person in the world. He felt like a big loser, but seeing that the lame jokes he used to make, made her laugh was the moment he discovered he was in love with you.

When it was 7 pm, Peter showed up at her bedroom door and borrowed Scott's motorcycle to take her to the restaurant. The two agreed that they wouldn’t use or talk about their powers.

The restaurant was highly luxurious, with white marble floors and people dressed in their finest clothes. “Oh my god, Pete! This is too much!"

“You deserve it.” He kissed her forehead and took her hand to go to the receptionist.

"Hello, a table for two please" he said trying to look serious and older.

“I'm sorry sir, but the queue is 3 hours” the receptionist said.

Peter looked at you. “I don’t think I can take it, I haven’t eaten all afternoon!” then he looked at the receptionist again. “Are all tables three hours on hold?” she confirmed.

"Thanks!" you said and took his hand to get out of line. “Pete, let me drive now”

You took him to his favorite fast food place. Everyone looked at you both like you were superstars, dressed in your fancy clothes.

“I'm sorry it didn't work out today. I wanted you to have a princess night as you deserve. I saved all my money to get this done!” Peter said after you ordered your meal.

“Pete! You don't need to apologize for anything, unforeseen happens. And I always feel like a princess no matter the place, you make me feel that way” he took your face and kissed you.

“I have the best girlfriend in the world. I don't know what I did to deserve this. Besides, I was crazy to eat here. Thanks, my love”

taglist: @kazscrow @geli2297 @mrs-brekker15 (let me know if you want to me added)

#marvel #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff xmen #peter maximoff x y/n #quicksilver #peter maximoff fluff #x men imagine #x men #jean grey #scott summers #charles xavier

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cupcakes-and-pain · 3 years ago

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> Ollie since Charles likes paintings so much, why don't you draw something for him?

“Uh, I don’t know… what if it turns out bad?” But right when the words left his mouth, he realized what he just did. Disagreeing with a human? He was so bad! Such an awful pet. Who cares if Master hates the drawing and beats Ollie for it? A human thinks he should draw something, so he will.

“S-sorry, I’m sorry for d-disagreeing! I shouldn’t do that, that’s so bad, I’m so bad. Of course, I’ll draw something right away. I’m sorry.”

He wandered into the kitchen, feeling terrible. He saw a pencil left out here earlier — he should’ve put it away, he was so bad — and there was paper in the far right drawer. He would never dream about using Master’s art supplies.

“What would Master like?” Ollie whispered aloud to himself. It was imperative he made something that Master would actually like. Maybe that way he’d get a less harsh punishment.

In the end, he settled with a portrait of Master himself, reasoning that most owners like themselves a lot and enjoy it even more when their pets recognize it. Something along the lines of, oh my pet could’ve drawn anything and he decided to draw me!

Just as he was finishing the picture, Master walked in. Ollie flinched. He was at least hoping that he would be able to go to Master Charles and present himself to be hurt. Now it was more like Master catching Ollie in the act.

“Mr. Charles, I-… I’m so sorry, I was bad, so very bad! I-I messed up, I used your stuff, I dared to try and make a p-picture. I- I- please, mercy, sir! Your filthy pet is sorry, please-“

“Woah, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Master crouched down and Ollie tensed, practically feeling the fist coming down before it had actually happened. But there was no hit. There was no touch at all.

“Ollie, darling? Oh, my precious darling, can you look at me? That’s it, there’s a good boy. There’s my good boy. I’m here, I’m here. What’s wrong? Is it the picture?”

“Y-y-yes, sir. I mean, Mr. Charles. Yes, your pet made a hideous, ugly thing. It dared to try and make art like you.”

“It? Oh, love, don’t talk that way. You aren’t just an object in my eyes. That must be what someone else told you. And I don’t think it’s hideous at all, I think your picture is lovely. You are allowed to make art, darling.”

Ollie nervously looked up, prepared to see an furious Master who just lured him into a false sense of security. He prepared to be hit or grabbed or spat on. But instead Master just looked concerned and loving.

Tentatively, Ollie leaned his head onto Master’s lap. He did not trust himself to speak right now, fearing that he’ll ruin whatever gave Master the idea that he shouldn’t beat his slave unconscious then and there.

Master let Ollie lay down and started to run his hands through Ollie’s hair. There was no malice or anger or hate in the movement. Master didn’t grab his hair or yank him around.

The pet knew, of course, that this quietness wouldn’t last. Eventually, Master will make him talk and explain himself. He might even punish Ollie later. But for now, at least they could be calm and silent together.

#ask #thanks for the ask!!#Ollie #charles durand #charles & ollie

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years ago

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The anatomy of the obsessed artist [2p! Italy x reader]

Synopsis: You have the golden opportunity to display your art at a newly opened gallery. Nobody stops to look at your work until an eccentric connoisseur praises it, even asking you if he can buy it. Touched and fascinated by his personality, you agree to meet him over coffee. Now that he’s no stranger, he keeps inviting you over to his lavish estate until he realizes it’s not the art he’s so obsessed with. It’s the artist. Wordcount: 3, 686 The reader is referred to as she/her. “Nihilism represented a crude form of positivism and materialism, a revolt against the established social order; it negated all authority exercised by the state, by the church, or by the family.” - Encyclopedia of Britannica

“It's hideous.” He murmured, his eyes narrowed with contempt. They were a hot magenta hue, quick-moving and critical of everything they fixed on. How much he wished to say he was standing back to admire a masterpiece. Tossing his paintbrush into the kitchen sink with a sigh, he sauntered to the couch and plummeted down on it.

A loud clang was heard, but it never fazed his companion, who barely dodged the trajectory of the brush. “Oh, really?” They snorted. “It looks the same as every other painting you've done.”

He whipped his head to him and glared.

“Like you'd have an eye for these things, Lutz.”

Said man gave a shrug. This was probably the hundredth time they had this conversation, so he could practically predict what Luciano was about to say—and how he would wind up listening unwillingly to his passionate spiels.

“Just listen to me speak for once.”

Lutz scoffed and poured himself a hot cup of coffee. “Here we go again...” He grumbled with a distinct droop to his features.

Rolling his head back to the pristine, white ceiling, Luciano threw his hands up in emphasis. “It's the only damn thing that gives this room some color. I need to do better, Lutz. Otherwise, I'll tear this whole place down!” Even then, his animated movements were minuscule compared to the tall walls that surrounded him.

The other sipped on his mug. “If you're so stuck—” He smacked his lips. “—how about going to the new art gallery downtown? Anything to get you to shut up.” Lutz grinned at that, half-expecting him to launch a few throwing knives his way. But he never did. Instead, he jumped up and extended an index to point at him accusingly.

“You think you're so smart, huh, cazzo? Well, I might just go. Just to prove you wrong.” Grabbing his coat hanging over the couch, he threw it on and marched downstairs. As the echoes of his footsteps faded, he gave one final reckoning. “You can't rush art, dumbass! I'll turn the place upside down, and I still won't find anything worth my time.”

The volume of his thoughts had never been so loud. It was the only thing he heard in this quiet institution during its downtime. Nobody was around, save for him, but that allowed him to ramble to himself--whatever he was staring at, it was everything he had been looking for.

“This was definitely worth my time.” He muttered with a pistol grip on his chin. As he scanned over the canvas to take in the brushstrokes, he shook his head. “I hate to think he said something smart for once.” They were so violent, yet so gentle. A unique balance of nihilism and faith. Reaching up to his dark maroon hair, he dug through it and laughed in awe. “This is magnificent. Bellisima!”

“I hope you mean what you say, sir. That means a lot to me.” He turned to the voice ended up gawking at a woman. As he processed the words, he was at a loss for his own.

“Oddio--you don't mean you painted this, do you, signorina?”

She nodded coyly, much to his delight.

“Mhm. The name on the label is mine.”

At the sound of that, he gleamed and took both her hands into his own. “How much?”

She blinked, unsure of whether she heard him correctly. Was he offering to buy her work? “Sorry?”

“How much do you want for your painting? I'll pay you handsomely. One grand. Ten grand. However much you desire! I just need this in my living room. Whatever you ask for, it's a done deal!”

In your short career, you never imagined capturing someone's attention so passionately with your work. Your initial impression of the man was a rich art collector of some kind--an eccentric enthusiast--and not a connoisseur by any means. He even dressed the part, having adorned himself in a loose, silky blouse with a coat tied around his waist. His fashion was flashy and exuded confidence, though nothing else could have suited his personality.

As you talked to him over a coffee, however, it became clear to you he was much more than that.

“I've never seen somebody use color like that! You must've done lots of practice to get that good, eh?” He mused, watching you light up at his praise. There was no denying the sincerity in his voice, so you couldn't help being drawn to him and his zeal. “I'll be honest with you, bella. I'm not letting you run off before we settle on something.”

He could tell from the way you leaned in so subtly, never once breaking your eye contact as you listened to him. And knowing this did wonders--he slowly found himself drawn to you.

“Thank you, Luciano. I'm really flattered, but I can't just sell it to you. It's part of the gallery now.” You smiled gently, curling your fingers around the cup handle. Even as you sipped on your beverage, your gaze on him never faltered. And before you could catch any disappointment on his part, you waved your hands at him.

“I don't mean anything by it, honestly. I'm glad that you understand what I'm trying to say--like, you could've interpreted it completely differently. I wouldn't be able to stop you, either. But the fact that you didn't...” He followed you attentively with those sharp and mysterious orbs, but you were strangely comfortable under his scrutiny.

“Maybe we have similar minds.”

The man had been studying you as you spoke. While he did, this one, singular thought occurred to him. There was nothing in the world he loved more in the world than being heard.

“Hearing you talk is the same as being listened to,” Luciano admitted with a small laugh. Deep inside, he knew Lutz always listened. Unwillingly, that was. But being heard and understood was another story. “You take the words right out of my mouth, bella. I don't know how you do it, but you have to stop reading my mind. It's invasive.” He darted his eyes over your expression that morphed into dumbfoundedness--which served as a prelude for embarrassment.

So he couldn't help but smile flirtatiously. “Take me out to dinner first. Only then will I let you finish my sentences.”

You furrowed your brows together, but his smile was far too contagious to be staved off. The end result was an endearingly stupid face that was a cross between a frown and a grin. “Does lunch count then, you impossible little man? I mean, it's around noon.”

He shook his head, amused. Luciano expected you to pull away, but it seemed like he bit off more than he could chew. You were a handful. He was never a fan of handfuls or really anything that required his energy, but he'd be damned if this was the last time he saw you.

“But seriously, (F/N). I need your paintings. And it doesn't have to be something you've already painted.” Standing up at that, he neared your side lowered himself to your level. He settled a hand on your shoulder, much to your surprise. But you never tried to pull away. “I want you to paint for me at my place. I'll do whatever it takes. I'll drink my weight in this mediocre coffee if I have to.”

With his intoxicating personality, all he needed was a few more espressos to do the convincing.

“I can tell from your taste that you're pretty nihilistic.” You commented with a hint of disbelief. “But this is just crazy! What do you even do for a living?” All the expensive decor and extravagance of his stupidly large mansion must have costed a fortune! Lifting your head to take in the sheer size and height of his living room, you then shot him an incredulous look. “Well? I'm curious.”

Luciano leaned against the couch and folded his arms. “Oh, you don't want to know, trust me.” He grinned devilishly.

“What, are you in the mafia or something?” You joked.

He craned his head from right to left.

“Eh. Something like that.”

You blinked, not expecting him to be so frank. Then, you laughed sheepishly, suddenly feeling as if you've walked right into a trap. “... Are you serious?” The man sensed your uneasiness and walked over promptly. Before you could react, he held your arm, but it was much too gentle to stir any panic.

“Don't worry. Nobody would go after an artist I hired.” He leaned in to keep you hostage to his piercing eyes. The close proximity only heightened the tension you didn't know existed. What he said next, however, would have you blushing like a bride. “To have a target on your head means you're a liability. So unless we were an item--”

He smiled contently at the sight of your reddening cheeks. “--nothing will happen.”

Fortunately, your mortification was short-lived as you remembered your circumstances. Giving him a light shove, you walked off to his hallway. While your back was turned to him, he bit back a sharp grin, but to no avail. Man, were you feisty.

“Stop being such a womanizer and show me your studio, Luciano.” You mused, pausing in the doorway to glance at him over your shoulder. Was that playfulness he saw in your eyes?

“It isn't very professional.”

He hung his head and threw his hands up. Being scolded and ordered around was his worst pet peeve. But when you did it, he was only more compelled to misbehave.

“Mi dispiace. But I was only kidding. If I was part of the mob, my windows wouldn't be this big. Nor this abundant.” Making his way to your side, he walked with you to the said studio.

“And Luciano is a bit of a mouthful, no? You call me Luci.”

Unbeknownst to the two of you, someone else had entered the kitchen to pour themselves a drink. And boy, were they in for a show.

“You got it, boss. You call the shots.” A voice spoke in a gravely-exaggerated mobster accent.

“You're milking it...”

“I'm just joking, Luci. Let me have this moment.”

“Fine. Maybe I should've kept pretending. That'll get you to be a little more obedient.”

“And where's the fun in that?”

“Hmph.”

Lutz narrowed his eyes once the voices faded into silence. And he thought he hated being called Luci.

A mischievous smirk plastered across his face.

“Looks like somebody's found their inspiration.”

A few hours later, he appeared in the studio with a canned beer in hand. Even in such a lavish estate, no form of entertainment could beat pestering an old friend. Waltzing inside like he owned the place, he grinned toothily at what he saw. You and Luciano were busy working on a painting. But rather than using brushes, you both used your fingers.

“Hey.”

Luciano glanced at him and immediately felt the beginnings of anger simmer inside. “What do you want?”

Lutz laughed breathily. “Heh. No knives today?”

“If you don't get out, there will be!” The other whisper-shouted.

You stopped painting and turned to the newcomer with nothing short of curiosity. “... Hi. Are you Luci's henchman?” The joke was probably long dead, but you couldn't resist. Not when the stranger was built on six feet of pure muscle. “Nice to meet you.”

So this was the mysterious artist who managed to tame the bastard, huh? Lutz flattened his lips thoughtfully. “... In a way.”

“No, he's not. Now, get out. Your presence is ruining the mood... And killing my brain cells.” At the sound of that, you exploded into a burst of hearty laughter. Seeing Luciano push him out and leave colorful handprints on his tank only intensified those laughs. Once he managed to get his henchman out of the room, he whipped his head to you with a flustered glare.

“What's so funny?” He frowned. For one, he was rather taken aback at how he wasn't annoyed at you. At all. If someone like Lutz pushed their luck by teasing him, there would be more than one scar marring that punchable face of his.

“Nothing, nothing. I just thought... Maybe we could ask for his top and sell it. That was definitely a masterpiece.” You sighed, catching him off guard yet again. “It's the best work you've done today...”

The blush on his face deepened. A comment like that should've ticked him off, but he only found himself thoroughly infatuated. But that was preposterous! He was only letting this slide because you weren't that German bastard of a bum. That had to be it. But no matter what you did, he didn't have a single mean bone in his body for you. And he was about to test that theory.

“If you thought that was a masterpiece, I'll make you some more.” Marching over and undoing your apron, he wiped his fingers all over your once crisp white shirt. Looking down with a gasp, you weren't prepared for him to clap your cheeks and leave two brown handprints.

“You bitch!”

In his whole life surrounded by the worst potty-mouths, himself included, he'd never heard somebody cuss with so much sincerity. So the most logical reaction was to return the favor, if not be a little annoyed. But even as you ruined his blouse, which happened to be more expensive than everything in the room, he was cackling hysterically.

By the time you both calmed down, he had settled his chin atop your head and wrapped two arms around your neck. The paint on his face was drying up, but he was in no hurry to wash it off. Giving you a squeeze, he leaned down and pressed his cheek to yours. “You're coming tomorrow, aren't you?”

“Mhm.”

“And the day after that?”

“I don't see why not.”

“Then what about the day after that?”

You faced him and pinched his cheek affectionately, but he never complained. “If I was, what's the point of leaving, hm? I have something on that day, but I'll update you.”

Standing up at that, you felt his arms slide off of your shoulders. Luciano pulled away reluctantly, and as you left his studio, he found himself trailing after you against his own will. As quiet as he was, inside, he was tearing himself apart, torn between asking you to stay in the guest room and driving you home. But in the end, he got in the car.

Once he arrived outside your house, his body acted out unexpectedly when he shot his hand out to grab yours. The sudden contact startled you, though you could only gleam at his paint-smeared face that stifled back a thousand words. “What, do you miss me that much already?” You chuckled, much to his pleasure.

“You're just missing me too less.” He closed his eyes for a satisfied look. When he opened them again, he added this. “I'll pick you up here. Same spot. 9 am. If you don't show up in five minutes, I'll break inside and pull you out of bed.” Only then did he let you go.

“You got it, boss.”

With that said, you waved at him and made your way inside. Once the door clicked shut, he returned his gaze to the dashboard and shook his head with a defeated smile. “Oh my god.”

When he climbed the flight of stairs to appear next to the kitchen, the hiss of an espresso machine was heard. Rolling his head to it absently, he dropped his keys on the island and dug his hands through his sticky hair. Without addressing the blonde, who took an obvious interest in his disheveled appearance, he sauntered to the couch and flopped down on it.

“... Luciano.”

“What do you want?” He muffled his voice into the cushion.

Lutz walked over with a mug in hand and sipped it. Pointing to his own face, he swirled his index in circles. “You have a little something there.” When the other rolled his head to him, so did their colorful face.

The next two days saw steady progress in the project he paid you to do. While the painting moved closer to completion, he cared less and less about the finished product. At the same time, his eagerness for you to come grew exponentially. He could never admit it, but that didn't mean Lutz couldn't see right through him.

A single glance at him working in the studio was more than enough to deduce the conclusion that he was hopelessly head over heels for you. For one, it wasn't right to say he was even working anymore. Instead, he was staring at you, and sometimes, for twenty minutes or more if you were particularly immersed in your art.

This was only confirmed in due time.

Trotting downstairs to the cellar, he discovered that over ten bottles of wine had disappeared. And the culprit promptly made an appearance when he returned to the living room. Luciano was holding an empty bottle when they bumped into each other, the contact on his shoulder causing him to drop it. When it shattered on the marble floor, so did his patience.

“What the fu--watch where you're going, you fucking idiot!” He hissed, giving the other a strong shove back.

Beer fizzed out of the can and splashed onto his white tank. Lutz couldn't care less about ruining his clothes, but wasting beer? He pulled back with a growl. “I could say the same for you. I'm not the stumbling drunk here cuz' I can actually hold my weight.”

Luciano rolled his eyes and inhaled a deep breath.

“You know what, just leave me alone.” He huffed, kicking the shards on the ground. Once he scattered the glass all over the hall, he stormed off to his studio. Letting out a frustrated string of colorful words, he tore through more canvases than he cared to count. Punching a hole in one, then using another as target practice, half of the artwork was completely destroyed by the time Lutz showed up.

“I don't get it! Why am I so angry? Why can't I paint something like this?” Luciano exasperated, gesturing forcefully to the painting you were working on. Then, he marched up to the man and gripped the front of his tank. “Am I just that shit? But that can't be!”

At this point, Lutz was done with arguing.

“... You know what I'm about to say.”

Luciano threw his hands up as they chorused the same line simultaneously. “It looks the same as every other painting you've done--yeah, I know! I didn't really expect you to give me any useful advice. I just wanted you to listen to me.”

“Don't I always listen to you?”

“No--”

“Wasn't it me who suggested for you to go to that art gallery?”

“Yeah, but it's not like--it's not like you knew she was gonna show up! (F/N) being there only happened once in a blue moon. You were just lucky, so don't think you're a genius or anything, ha!”

Lutz scoffed, but his unimpressed expression quickly morphed into a shrewd one. “Accept it, liebling. You're down bad. Down astronomically. Just invite her over, and when she comes, you'll know what I mean. It's not the paintings you're making a fuss over.” He watched Luciano's hair spike up like a cat, then him light up like a Christmas tree. That little man was many things, but an honest person was not one of them.

“You think you're so smart, huh, cazzo?” Luciano pointed at him accusingly. “Well, I might just do it. Just to prove you wrong.”

When he left, Lutz clicked his tongue with raised brows.

“That's what you said last time...”

And invite you over he did. When he spotted a silhouette on the other side of the blurry glass, he sprung up from the couch and swung open the door with great gusto. There you were, as effortlessly charming as he remembered, and a little startled. You never had the chance to knock, nor process his scruffy appearance.

“Luci--hey! You look... A little more tired than I remember.”

Without a shred of hesitation, he grabbed your hand and pulled you to his bedroom. Yet again, his body was acting against his will, but perhaps, this was what he wanted in the first place. He just never admitted it. As he slowly came to terms with it, his eyes widened to dinner plates, and his heart pounded obnoxiously in his chest.

“Hey, what're you--”

He pointed wordlessly to the bed.

You shook your head, unable to figure out what he meant. “What do you want me to do?”

Luciano glowered at you, but it served as a stark contrast to the softness in his voice. “I'll pay you. As much as you want. Just stay there.” Seeing that you had yet to go along with his requests, he marched over to you and laid you down. Before you could object, he threw the blanket over you and tucked you in.

Sliding himself in from the other side, he scooted in and coiled his arms around your stomach. “Now, sleep.”

Breathing out a soft sigh, you rolled to him and brushed his mussy bangs back. “For someone so straightforward, you're not very honest, are you?” Sitting up to unzip your jacket, you proceeded to take your shirt off. When you stripped down, blood rushed to flush his cheeks as he came to realize he was completely love-struck.

“... Holy shit.”

Climbing onto his lap, you laughed over his lips and squeezed his neck. “You're really bad at hiding things. But like you said, I can read your mind.”

Luciano knitted his brows together. Then, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your mouth. “And it's very invasive. Please stop it.”

“Only if you promise to pay me in the morning.”

“... You're not a prostitute.”

“Oh, but you are one too. We're all whores, if you think about it. We just sell different parts of ourselves.”

“Go to sleep, idiota.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

#hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #hetalia x reader #x reader #reader insert #xreader #2ptalia #2p! italy x reader #2pitaly #2p italy x reader #2p!italyxreader #2p hetalia #hetalia world series #aph #axis powers hetalia #request #ask answered #alfredosauce50

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hannigramficrecs · 3 years ago

Note

there's a hannibal extended universe?! omg pls, it would be incredible if you could recommend any fics related to this. thank you so much!!

OMG yes. I’m actually thinking of starting a section of my index of just HEU fics! I currently have a Spacedogs tag— which is the ship of Hugh Dancy’s character from the movie Adam (2009) and Mads Mikkelsen’s character from Charlie Countryman (2013), but I was thinking of adding more from all the different universes I’ve read so far as well! Anyways, here are a couple of the more popular pairings to get you started!

Spacedogs:

Space Invader by Devereauxs_Disease [words: 28,512]

Nigel isn’t handling his divorce well. When a good Samaritan starts leaving him gifts on his balcony, Nigel gets suspicious. What could go wrong?

The Set Up by Devereauxs_Disease [words: 4,178]

Nigel decides if he can’t have Adam, someone great should. So he plays wingman for his friend/secret crush and sets Adam up on a date with a gorgeous woman. What could possibly go wrong? OR—The fic where Beverly Katz learns to see the fun in blind dates.

Beth Finds Out by victorine for Devereauxs_Disease [words: 3,160]

Beth doesn’t want to date Adam. She doesn’t really want to date Nigel either, but he’ll work as a temporary measure to discourage Adam. Of course, she’s not expecting the two of them to hit it off…

Marbles by Llewcie [words: 5,561]

Adam moves to a new neighborhood and promptly loses a prized possession to the neighborhood bully. But when the tables are turned, Adam extracts a promise from Nigel that will follow them through the years. The friendship that develops as a result will end up meaning more to them than they ever could have anticipated.

Pochemuchka by slashyrogue [words: 1,441]

Alpha Nigel gets roped into taking the empty bartender spot on Omega Speed Dating Night where he happens to meet a certain blue eyed omega.

I Was Still Blind, But Twinkling Stars Did Dance by DarkmoonSigel [words: 12,010]

Beth sets Adam up on a blind date. Sex happens.

King Arthur (2004) — which Mads and Hugh both starred in!

To the Place I Belong by halotolerant [words: 14,823]

“I am going to have to see you eventually, Galahad,” Tristan pointed out. “Or else undertake this mission blindfolded.” Abruptly, the door in front of him was flung open. He had to fight not to take a reflexive step backwards. “If you even begin to laugh…” Galahad threatened, hissing. Tristan surveyed the sight of him. No, he still didn’t feel like laughing at all.

Over the Mountains and Under the Stars by starkaryen [words: 19,397]

Galahad wasn’t a fool. He knew perfectly well that the feelings he had harbored for Tristan for some time now would never be requited. But Tristan had never joined the knights’ jokes about this particular matter, and he had always inwardly thanked him for that…

Not-So-Innocent by QueenofLit [words: 1,238]

Tristan had been warned off Gawain's little brother quite violently. In fact, he wasn't allowed to so much as see the younger man until Gawain was certain he wouldn't try to seduce him. As a brunette angel serves Tristan's coffee with promises of sweeter things to come, the universe proves how monumentally bad that decision was.

The Tale of Sir Galahad and the Ridiculous Chicken by Devereauxs_Disease [words: 4,928]

Tristan's hawk takes a sudden interest in Galahad, stealing his things whenever Galahad isn't looking. Tristan is unhelpful at solving this problem. Fluff and crack in the time of chain-mail.

Courtship by Chifuyu [words: 2,837]

Galahad can't stand Tristan. Tristan can't stand Galahad. Everybody else is pretty much done with their antics.

Alphabet by cognomen [words: 2,392]

"I don't know how to get through to him, Gawain," he laments. It is pointless to protest - they have been brothers in arms long enough to read each other this well at least. "Have you tried getting in his tent and arranging yourself naked on his bedroll?" Gawain suggests outlandishly, but Galahad is willing to consider even such a dramatic gesture.

Late Bloom by victorine [words: 4,318]

Galahad and Tristan are constantly arguing. The other knights are done. There's only one way to sort this... FIGHT!

Skirts by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite [words: 3,702]

Come nightfall, the boy’s stance had developed a bit of a falter, but he had no complaints. He sat by the fire, one knee drawn up, and Tristan knew that if he shifted just an inch, he’d flash the lot of them. Something had to be done. Otherwise, the skirt would be nothing more than a belt by morning.

Blood Red Apples by kipsi [words: 1,032]

He had always been secretly jealous of how Tristan handled his knife, his movements precise and steady.

A Bride's Price by Devereauxs_Disease [words: 5,930]

Galahad doesn't know how to woo Tristan, so he asks for advice from the knights. All of their advice is terrible. Please don't ever ask these idiots for advice.

Bondless by Llewcie [words: 9,305]

Galahad runs an Omega club with the best security on the eastern seaboard. Tuesday nights are Alpha Night, where alphas can pay dearly for the privilege of buying an omega a drink. Tristan is willing to pay just to look on Galahad from behind the glass security wall. Galahad is pretty sure he wants more.

Hugh’s character from Ella Enchanted (2004) and Mads’ character from Vallhalla Rising (2009)

Found You by Kateera [words: 5,151]

Prince Charmont was born without a soul mark and hidden from his kingdom to keep the shame a secret. When his parents send him away on a diplomatic mission, he's forced to watch a man fight for his life and is inexplicably drawn to the silent warrior. He has to meet him.

Trope: From Sex To Love (Valhalla Enchanted) by TigerPrawn [words: 14,355]

In a land where alphas and omegas are rare, the omega prince Charmont is in need of an alpha to see him through heat until his betrothed arrives from a distant kingdom. The recently freed slave one-eyed mute is just hideous enough to be the perfect temporary alpha to service the prince. Falling in love is the last thing anyone wants.

Trope: College AU (Valhalla Enchanted - Modern AU) by TigerPrawn [words: 9,186]

When Char mistakes an alpha’s true appearance for a costume he means to apologize, but ends up doing much more than that!

Blood on Steel by MonstrousRegiment [words: 9,488]

Inside was—a man. Something like a man. There was a shackle around his neck, like a dog’s collar, and the heavy chain it was affixed to run through a thick ring hammered into the wall, and then to a strong-looking anchoring post several feet away, well out of reach of the cage.

Forgemaster by Llewcie [words: 11,946]

Charmont, the newest Dionysus, loses a bet to his roommate Aphrodite, and is required by her to go on three dates with a god of her choosing. Before he even gets out the door, he scathingly insults the gentle, mute Hephaestus, and then must scramble to make amends. Char is not prepared when it's the gentle, one-eyed Forgemaster that refuses to take HIM to bed.

Hel by Llewcie [words: 4,285]

On a road trip to find something he has been missing, Char's car breaks down and leaves him in a quiet suburb of Chicago, with only a seedy hostel and a strange little pub open late at night. Forgoing soiled mattresses for a late drink, he encounters a bartender who doesn't speak but pours a mean pint of mead. Its a better place to lay his head than he thought he would get.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal fanfiction #hannigram fanfiction #spacedogs #heu #heu fanfiction #heu fanfic #hannibal fic recs #hannigram fic recs #spacedogs fanfic #nbc hannibal #hannibal tv #will x hannibal #replies

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winchesterxxi · 4 years ago

Text

For the Best (Din Djarin x Reader) | PART 1

PART 2 ⇒

Rating: G (General Audience)

Type: Angst

Summary: Din has put his life at risk one too many times in order to protect Y/N. But how much is too much?

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: CHAPTERS 14 & 15 SPOILERS

A/N: this a long one, so strap in. and fun fact, that’s my favorite gif of din, ever. something about the ruffled hair, the worried eyes and the facial hair just hit the spot. (UPDATE: Hi so apparently people want this to be a series??? So part 2 is in the works but because this was intended to be a one shot apologies if it seems rushed)

MASTERPOST | REQUEST HERE | KO-FI

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

Din would give his life to protect the ones he loved. It wasn’t just a case of honor and duty anymore but rather of pure unfiltered love, which he’d never admit out loud or phantom of letting you know. Most of the times he’d do it so unconsciously that it was as if a primal instinct took over him when it came to protecting either of you. Sure you were a grown woman, with amazing hunter skills but for him, you were something that he had to protect, without making it too knowledgeable to the people around him.

That is why he was quite reluctant to take you along with Mayfield to the hidden Imperial rhydonium refinery on Morak to get Moff Gideon's ship coordinates.

“Din, I’ll be fine.”

“What if-”

“No discussions. I’m going.”

And he just silently nodded his helmet in a yes ma’am manner that made the whole crew on the back of The Slave side eye each other.

Once inside the officer's mess hall, where the terminal Mayfield needed is in, he notices his former commanding officer, Valin Hess, and fears being recognized, refusing to step into the hall.

“This is your part of the job. You go in there and you get the bloody coordinates.” you hiss at him through your own helmet.

“My part of the job? I drove us here while under attack and saved our asses, and you have the nerve to say this is my part of the job? No way I’m going in there.” he looks between you and Din.

“I’ll do it then.” you say decidedly, but before you could take a single step into the hall, Din grabs your upper arm.

“No.”

“What do you mean no? He won’t do it and you’ have to take your helmet off which is not happening.”

“Why would I have to take my helmet off?” he questions through his modulated voice.

“All the terminals in this refinery can only be accessed after a facial recognition scan. I noticed it while we were making our way through the halls.” you explain causing Mayfield to throuw an impressed look in your direction.

All three of you fall in silence for a few seconds, considering how you would go about reaching the terminal and before you could say another word, Din steps away from you and Mayfield not even giving you time to process what was happening or try to stop him.

With just a few strides he was standing in front of the target terminal pressing a few buttons and for two times getting an automated voice stating facial scan required. Sensing his distress, you try to walk to him only to have Mayfield’s hand forcefully grabbing you and pulling you back to where you were standing.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he whisper-yells, scolding you.

“I’m trying to help.” you answer with the same voice tone, releasing your arm from his grasp.

“He can take care of himself.” you don’t say anything but instead turn your head in Din’s direction, just like Mayfield as you hear the facial recognition being asked for a third time, initiating a countdown.

Din reaches for his helmet and you cut your own breathing. and there’s a slight buzz in your ears. The world stops spinning when your eyes catch the back of his head and the curling of his brown hair strands there resting. You can’t believe what he just did, exposing himself like that and introducing his face to virtually every security control in the galaxy.

Even though his back was still facing you, there was almost a sense of disrespect in looking at him, almost as if you’d caught him undressing.

Then, from the corner of your eye you can see Hess approaching him.

“Trooper!” Hess shouted to him. “Hey, trooper!”

Din turned his head in Hess’s direction and as soon as your eyes caught a glimpse of his skin, you looked away - this didn’t feel right. He didn’t have a say on whether or not he’d want you to look at him and you didn’t want him to be even more uncomfortable than what he already was.

“Pay attention when a superior addresses you. What’s your designation?”

“Transport crew,” he said. No helmet modulator whatsoever and his honey like voice slipped so easily into your ears.

“What?”

“My designation is Transport Copilot.” his voice said again and you could hear to slight tremble in his statement.

“No, son. What’s your TK number?” Hess insisted

“My TK number... is...” he tried but nothing comes out, and you know that this might be the moment that gets all three of you killed. That is until Mayfield steps in front of you and quickly strides to Din’s side.

“This is my Commanding Officer TK-593, sir,” Mayfield quickly says, and gave Din a look of reassurance before turning in your direction and motioning with his head for you to come closer. Slowly, with the riffle still under your harm you approach the three men all looking at you. “And this is my First Lieutenant TK-234. I’m Imperial Combat Assault Transport Lieutenant TK-111, and Sir, I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up to him a little bit, since his vessel lost pressure in Taanab.”

You are standing next to Din and you now realize how he was only a few inches taller than you without the beskar armor, his chin just little above your eye line. For a moment you imagine how enjoyable it would be to lay your head against his shoulder or nuzzle against his neck, heights perfectly matching.

“What’s your name, Officer?”

“We just call him Brown Eyes,” said Mayfield with a mocking undertone in his voice “Isn’t that right, Officer?”

Brow eyes you thought. Brown eyes... that suits him.

With your peripheral vision you can see Din slightly nodding with his head. You still din’t dare to look at him.

“C’mon, let’s go fill out those TPS reports, so we can go recharge the power coils-” Mayfield started, trying to get done and over with this situation

“You’re not dismissed.” you all froze.

“You the tank troopers that delivered the shipment of rhydonium?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir” Din was the last to answer and you could feel the vibrations of his voice next to you.

“Well, you three managed to be the only transport today to deliver their shipment. Come with me, hmn? Let’s get a drink... Brown Eyes.”

As soon as he turns his back Mayfied follows suit and you can see Din looking at you, once again, through the corner of your eyes, but you look straight ahead and walk behind Mayfield.

What you didn’t see is that you left a hurt man behind, one that wished for you to be the first person to look him in the eyes but that now thought that he was so hideous that you couldn’t even bear the sight of him.

Sitting down on a nearby table, Mayfield took the seat in front of Commander Hess and you to his right, leaving the seat in front of you free for Din to take his place at the table.

“So,” said Hess, “What shall we toast to, boys, and girl? I can blather on, about ‘to health’ or ‘to success’, but... I’d like to do something a little less rote.” he turns to Din “Where you from, Brown Eyes?”

“How ‘bout a toast to Operation Cinder,” Mayfield intervenes.

“Now,” says Hess “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“No,” Mayfield continues. “No, you don’t get it - I lived it. I was in Burnin Konn.”

“Burnin Konn?” “Mm.”

“That was a hard day. I had to make many... unpleasant decisions.”

An exchange between the two men initiates but all you’re focusing on is keeping your eyes looking down at either the table or your drink avoiding Din at all costs. But then, feeling his eyes practically burning a hole in your forehead you realize how much of an asshole you are acting like right now.

This man trusts you with his life. And you with his. You both had made sure to make that known a few weeks ago when you almost got killed by this enormous Ice Spider in Maldo Kreis and he told you to instead of running away from the spider to try and run into and under it.

“Are you crazy?” you cried out

“Do you trust me?” he asked

“With my life.”

“Me too. Then do it.”

And so, your eyes start to trail their way across the table. To his chest plate. To his neck. To the bottom of his face, noticing his light stubble and mustache. To his eyes. And then, just like that, wind knocked out off you.

Your furrowed and anxious brows soften and your teeth release you lips, that you were biting trying to not think too much. Your whole body softens and as you look at him in adoration.

And he is looking at you. Adoringly. These two people that have known each other for so long, longed for each other for so long are finally meeting each other, actually seeing each other for the first time. For him, it’s the first time he sees the true color of the flush of you skin or how blood tinted your lips are as he doesn’t have the slight darkness of his helmet distorting them.

He wants to kiss you, so bad.

“You see, kids,” Hess says snapping you both from that moment “Everybody thinks they want freedom, but what they really want... is order. And when they realize that, they’re gonna welcome us back with open arms.”

He lifted his glass, and Mayfield chuckles. Both you and Din look worriedly at him knowing how he is about to go out of his mind

“To the Empire.” He drank and Mayfield fires.

You and Din look shocked at each other before turning to Mayfield.

“What the hell?!” you scold him.

Suddenly, stormtroopers appeared from all sides, and the three of you grabbed your weapons, starting to shoot everyone on sight, Din in front of you. Eventually, they were all down and there were just the three of you standing in the room.

Mayfield jaunts ahead “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Turning back to Din, you meet him looking down at you, his expression soft again. You reach for his helmet, pressing it against his chest.

“You did what you had to do. I never saw your face.” He looked back at you.

“Y/N...”

“It’s okay. If there is a next time that I can look at you, I want it to be out of want. Not out of need.”

He looks at you, actually thinking about whether or not he’d go back to hiding himself from you but ending up nodding and putting it back on.

“Thank you.” he says voice muffled by the helmet.

“You’d do the same for me.”

Yes he’d do.

You sat in the main chamber of the Slave next to Mayfield as the rest of the crew conversed in the upper room trying to come up with the next part of the rescue plan.

“You’re going to get him killed.” your head turns in his direction.

“What?” you question not sure of what you heard.

“You’re going to get him killed. Today, that man went to the terminal to prevent you from going. He put himself in front of you, shooting at a whole battalion of stormtroopers. He stayed behind so that you could be the first to climb into this very ship.”

You look down, remembering today’s events.

“He just did that for you, and Cara told me that yesterday he almost made a roast of himself when he thought you were on the Razor Crest when it got blown up. He was actually going to walk up into a ball of fire because he thought you were there. Don’t you get it? He might be one of the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy but that man goes completely irrational when it comes to you.”

“What are you trying to say?” you asked confused and trying to mask the hurt in your voice.

“I know this is going to hurt to hear but... maybe you should go away. At least until he gets the kid back so that he can concentrate only on that.”

“Are you saying that I’m a distraction?”

“Your not a distraction to him. You’re his priority. And that has proved itself to be beyond dangerous.”

He stands up without another word and climbs to the room above, letting you to sit with your thoughts, going over the exchange that just happened.

Boba had stationed the ship on some random planet for the night and while everyone was sound asleep, preparing for what they had to face the next day, you spent the past hours pacing in your room, Mayfield’s words still echoing in your head.

That’s why you were now standing next to your bed, a bag with all of your belongings on top of it. This is for the Best. If I stay he’ll probably get killed. You repeat over and over, recalling all the times that Din risked himself for you, the ones that no one but the both of you knew because they weren’t there to witness them.

This is for the Best.

Decidedly, you sling the bag over and across your shoulders, silently opening the door to the outside of your chamber and sliding it close. It’s better this way: to leave without saying goodbye, during the dark of the galactic night. A goodbye will wreck you and a goodbye would make you stay.

This is for the Best.

You repeat one last time, once you step out of the ship into the frosty night air, taking one last look back, before walking away, wishing that the next morning people wouldn’t panic and rather understand your decision; wishing that Din would some day forgive you.

This is for the Best

✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸

Want a completely personalized imagine just for you? Click here!

#for the best #winchesterxxi #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #angst #din djarin #din djarin x reader #star wars #pedro pascal x reader #the mandalorian imagine

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mlm-writer · 4 years ago

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Hero of the Swamp (Shrek x Jaskier)

Edit by me

Pairing: Shrek x Netflix!Jaskier (Julian Alfred Pankratz/Dandelion) Rating: Explicit Words: 2893 POV: Third Summary: After being left on the mountain, Jaskier finds himself lost in the swamp and in need of warmth and comfort. Note: Y’all can thank @spielzeugkaiser and their amazing art for this. Sorry for the sloppy edit, but I really was not going to put even more time into this sinful work. Tags: I’ve been a bad boy daddy forgive me father fore I have sinned, pre-movies Shrek, post-mountain Jaskier, angst, fluff, Shrek’s huge dong, size kink, cum shower, monster cock, blowjobs, rimming, cum eating and Shrek has emotions ok

The growls of monsters lurking in the forest rolled over the muddy forest grounds and reached Jaskier’s icy ears. He shivered in both terror and response to the temperature. He told himself he could get off that mountain on his own, but who was he kidding? His frigid ears caught something in the dark. The bard bolted off the path, then later found himself in the middle of nowhere, chilled to the bone, disoriented, and, to be honest, frightened.

He was looking for a path, but even that seemed to not be present anywhere in the vicinity. Jaskier rubbed his trembling hands together and walked on. Jaskier thought he should at last find some shelter from the wind. Just as he was about to settle for a random tree, he noticed light in the distance, warm like fire, inviting him and promising warmth and shelter.

The fatigued bard all but ran towards it, the signs around the perimeter unnoticed in the dark. His boots sunk into the mud of the swamp, but he had his eyes set on the house-like structure in the middle of the swamp. He could not believe anyone wanted to live in this stinky place, but right now this someone was about to be his saviour. Once at what he assumed to be the door, he knocked on it. When there was no answer he knocked again. There were some angry, heavy footsteps, before the door opened.

Before him stood a massive humanoid, skin green like peas, frame built like Geralt who preferred cake over his nasty potions. “Eh, good evening, sir,” Jaskier tried. If it was living in a house, it must be intelligent to some extent… right? “Could you please spare some place for a weary traveller?” The green creature did not look nice, even without its facial expressions. Some tension left its body after the question. Jaskier recognised it as a hint of confusion. “I’m afraid I’ll freeze to death if I don’t warm myself by a fire.”

“No, get out of my swamp,” the creature spoke. It sounded like it was from Skellige. It was about to retreat into its home, but Jaskier put his foot between the door.

“Please, I’ll die out here,” he spoke dramatically, hoping for pity so he’d have a roof over his head tonight. He was not sure if he should try his luck with this creature, but at least it could speak. Wraiths had said less words, before trying to slice him.

“Not my problem. Get out of my swamp. The only way you get close to my fire is when I roast you over it.” “Oh please, you don’t mean that.”

Jaskier had barely finished speaking, when the green man grabbed him by his doublet and pulled him close. His breath stank of swamp water and fish. His mouth was wide and Jaskier was pretty sure he would fit inside there. The bard felt like he should be terrified, but underneath a thin layer of leather and cloth, there was warmth radiating off pear skin. He wanted to lean into it, thaw. What inhibited his survival skills further, where those eyes glaring into his. Under bushy eyebrows rested two brown pools of warm broth. He heard the green man roar into his face that he needed to leave, because he was an ogre and he was going to eat him, but it was hard to believe him.

Within those eyes that were so close to his, the ogre told the story of a creature that wanted to be alone, because alone was safe, alone was comfortable, alone was all he was used to. Jaskier never knew that, but after today, he understood why one would think that.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

It stung, more than anything had caused him to ache in ages. Jaskier could feel the urge to never make friends again, never love again, never lust after one he could not have. However, he refused. It was pain that made life worth living. Without pain, bliss did not feel as good as it did. The rain made sunlight so much more appreciated. The cold made fire so much more precious. The monsters made the witcher so much more valuable.

The human knew this, but the ogre holding him up by his doublet did not. Jaskier had wished for pity, but he pitied the other now. He clumsily threw his arms around the ogre and hugged him tightly. The ogre stopped yelling at him. Jaskier could feel the muscles against his body tensing up. The hand holding him loosened and he threw his legs around the ogre too, holding on and hugging him tightly. “You don’t have to be alone. I don’t fear you,” Jaskier spoke gently.

“I am an ogre.” “And if you were really malicious I would not still be breathing. Please, just for one night. There are all sorts of dangers out in these swamps, especially at night. I just want to stay alive.”

Jaskier could hear the ogre letting out a long sigh. “Fine,” he spoke, “but you have to be gone tomorrow.” Jaskier let him go, but not after planting a delighted kiss on the rough skin of the ogre’s cheek.

“Thank you so much,” the bard exclaimed. He slipped inside, before the ogre could change his mind. The inside of the hollowed out tree looked cozy. It stank like hell, but he was in the middle of the swamp; what did he expect? “Do you like music? I have little to give you, but I am a bard.” Jaskier held up his lute as he grabbed the chair that had no food in front of it. One look at the giant slug on a plate and he was pretty sure he did not want to have any food. Jaskier pulled the chair a little closer to the fire and sat down with his lute in his lap. It seemed rather strange that there were two hand-crafted chairs, while the ogre seemed to be so keen on being alone. “Oh and you can call me Jaskier, by the by. What may I call you, my hero from the swamp?”

The ogre looked at him a little annoyed as he closed the door and sat back down to finish his dinner. “Uh… Shrek. You can play, but don’t sing.” Jaskier let the name roll off his tongue, before playing a calming tune. He didn’t speak, just let his fingers do their thing as he processed all that happened during the day, well it was actually more just those few minutes that haunted his mind. Each one of Geralt’s words cutting into his soul. “Eh… Jaskier?” Jaskier was pulled from his thoughts when Shrek spoke his name. He shook his head, before looking at Shrek. “You don't seem to be… you… you seem sad, well, what I mean is… I never heard such a depressing tune.”

Jaskier faked a smile. “My apologies, good sir. I’ll play you a happier tune, if you wish.” He diverted his eyes to the fingerboard, blinking away the tears he suddenly noticed pooling in his eyes.

“No, you don’t have to. I prefer silence, anyway.” Jaskier looked up and noticed Shrek had finished eating. He stood up and started cleaning up. “You can sleep on my good chair.” Jaskier followed the ogre’s gaze to the fauteuil in the corner. He nodded. It looked comfortable enough. He had slept on forest floors with Geralt. This was more luxury than a regular day with the witcher.

Shrek had some board and card games, which he seemed to enjoy to play. Jaskier wondered if Shrek usually played these games on his own or if he hosted guests more often. Neither seemed likely, since the games seemed to have gone untouched for at least a decade, if not longer. They shared a few laughs. Shrek turned out to be more fun company than Jaskier would ever have expected from an ogre. His jokes were terrible and sometimes a little insensitive, but he so clearly meant well. It was clear Shrek was not used to talking or any social interactions. He spoke like a young man still trying to figure out what was socially acceptable to say and what was not. Still, he was trying and Jaskier welcomes the vivid chatting.

When they got tired, Jaskier curled up on the comfortable fauteuil by the fire. Shrek had draped a shirt of his over the human. It stank and was dirty, but it was warm and Jaskier was still low key afraid of getting kicked out to sleep in the mud, so he didn’t voice a single word of complaint. In the silence of the night with no one to talk to, words that were already spoken returned to his mind. Jaskier tried to block them out, but they bit at his brain, keeping him awake and drawing tears from his eyes. He curled further in on himself, trying to stay quiet as he sobbed into his hands. It just hurt so much to be discarded like he was nothing but a nuisance. Was that all he was? He was sure his songs brought joy in taverns, but right now the unlikely and unrealistic idea that everyone just pretended to have a good time was so overwhelming.

The bard flinched when he felt a huge hand on his shoulder and arm. He looked up to find Shrek hanging over him in nothing but his smalls. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the ogre clearly wasn’t good with words. “I’m fine, Shrek,” Jaskier lied as he wiped the tears off his face, “I’ll just find the nearest town tomorrow and fuck the pain away.” The words had already left him, when he realised how that might sound. “And I’ll do that tomorrow, not because I think you’re hideous, quite the contrary, you might be the most handsome ogre to ever exist, but I just assumed you would not be interested in having sex with a human… male. Human male, doesn’t seem your taste, but it could be, I wouldn’t judge you. How could I? You’ve been a most generous host! I…”

Jaskier almost suffocated as Shrek’s palm covered the entirety of his face. He got the hint and just shut up. Shrek slowly let go of his face, allowing him to breathe again. Jaskier looked away, cheeks red. He was blabbering nonsense to an ogre who preferred peace and quiet. He guessed it was time to sleep in the mud outside, however, Shrek wasn’t yelling at him… yet.

“So you just have sex and that helps you feel better?” Jaskier nodded slowly. “I wouldn’t mind helping you feel better. It is not like I have had lassies lining up in the swamp… or lads.” He laughed a little awkwardly, making Jaskier laugh too. He took hold of one of Shrek’s huge fingers with two of his, by comparison, tiny hands.

“Oh Shrek, you are such a wonderful host. You really do not have to do this though. I will still want to visit you again, even when you don’t want to fuck my brains out, just so I don’t have to think about some brutish asshole.” Shrek gave him a long look, before enclosing his hand around Jaskier’s waist and lifting him off the fauteuil.

“It’s not just for you. It’s for me too.” And Jaskier wanted to read into those words, figure out the ogre with complicated feelings, but he had no willpower to. Shrek’s bed was firm, almost hard like a plank. It smelled like him, like onions and mud and firewood. Shrek tried to undress him, but his huge fingers couldn’t get a grip on Jaskier’s complex clothing. Jaskier smiled kindly at him, helping him without even needing to look at any button. “Can I kiss you?” Jaskier didn’t even reply. Instead he pulled Shrek’s head down. It was an awkward kiss. Shrek’s mouth was way too big and neither of them were very coordinated in the moment.

When his clothes were mostly off and Jaskier was left in his smalls, Shrek kissed down his body, his huge tongue lapping at his skin and Jaskier could hear him enjoy the taste. He hummed to signal his pleasure, letting the ogre go about his business. Shrek pulled off his smalls and to Jaskier’s complete surprise, the ogre took his cock in his mouth. Jaskier whimpered, hands grabbing the sheets. Everything about Shrek was big, including his mouth. Even when the ogre sucked him to full hardness, Jaskier still didn’t feel the back of the ogre’s throat. Shrek sucked in his balls at well and Jaskier almost cried from the pleasure of having his cock and balls inside a warm mouth.

When Shrek let Jaskier go, his length was hard, red and leaking. Jaskier barely had time to recover, before he felt that glorious tongue on him again, this time licking over his hole. Whispered pleas left his lips as he imagined that tongue inside of him. Then a thought crossed his mind. If everything about Shrek was big, what about his dick? Jaskier had seen the ogre’s hands and one finger was already bigger than the average cock. While he normally was down to go big, the imaginable size of Shrek’s dong low key terrified him.

His mind had no opportunity to freak him out completely, because Shrek’s tongue entered him and the feeling was so, so good. Jaskier moaned as big green hands spread his cheeks and thick wetness penetrated him. “Ah… ah Shrek I hate to be a uh… fuck!” The bard trashed his arms around when his new found friend started to stroke his cock at the same time. “I’m gonna cum! Way too soon, I know! Sto..aahh...” His whole body tensed as he spilled all over himself. Shrek was unrelenting. As the bard’s cock was spent, he still had his tongue inside him, pressing at the right places and wiggling around so talentedly. “Stop, stop, stop, it’s too much, really, too much.”

Jaskier was out of breath, head fuzzy with post-orgasmic bliss. His whole brain short-circuited as Shrek’s tongue licked over his torso, cleaning him off all the cum he had spilled over himself. “Are you all right?” The green-skinned sex machine inquired with innocent eyes that did not match the absolute tent in his smalls.

“Say, Shrek, will I die if I swallow ogre cum?” Jaskier almost laughed at Shrek’s expression. It was a ‘yes, no, maybe’. “Ok fine, but I will suck you off still.” The human pushed at the ogre, cornering the larger frame against the opposite wall, before getting on his knees.

“With all due respect, Jask, I don’t think you can fit me anywhere.” Jaskier didn’t listen, pulling down Sherk’s white smalls in spite of knowing the ogre was probably right. As soon as 12 inch of green cock basically slapped him in the face, Jaskier knew he was in way over his head. Still, he was confident that if he tried, he could still fit the head inside his mouth. With Shrek still assuring him he did not have to do this, Jaskier started licking all over Shrek’s length. The taste was not as bad as he feared. In fact, the more he licked, the more he started to like it. Jaskier made out with the head of Shrek’s cock, fucking the slit with his tongue. Shrek was holding his shoulder, occasionally squeezing a little as he moaned. And oh were those delicious moans, primal, guttural, deep and vibrating through Jaskier’s entire body.

The human tried many times, but he couldn’t slip the monster cock inside his mouth. He was resilient though and kept trying, while stroking the rest of the green length. He was so caught up in his quest that he didn’t hear Shrek telling him how close he was. He made a disappointed sound as he was forcibly removed from the cock in his mouth. Jaskier crawled back up the bed and stretched out his body. “Cum on me,” he wantonly moaned and Shrek did not disappoint. Jaskier had to close his eyes and mouth as he got showered in thick, beige cum. He never had felt this dirty, but it was a good kind. He wished he could have taken Shrek in his ass. He could’ve been so full.

Once Shrek had stopped groaning, Jaskier dared to open his eyes. He could see guilt already spreading over Shrek’s face. He must have been a sight, so much smaller than Shrek and absolutely drenched in his cum. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve always fantasised about being showered in cum. Just never thought that all that cum would come from a single person.”

Shrek let out a relieved sigh and helped him wipe some cum off his face so it wouldn’t get into his mouth or eyes. “I’ll prepare you a bath,” he spoke gently, surprising Jaskier with the thoughtfulness. His eyes followed the ogre as he put his breeches on and moved out to probably get some fresh water. A laugh escaped Jaskier as he stared at the sticky substance covering his skin. Who would’ve thought that the swamp could’ve been so pleasant?

#shrekier #i've been a bad boy daddy #forgive me father for i have sinned #shrek x jaskier #shrek #julian alfred pankratz #dandelion #netflix jaskier #the witcher #lemon #the witcher fic #shrek fic #monsterfucking #ogre #ogres #ogres are like onions

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muresetivoire · 3 years ago

Text

Moony × Reader

Word count: 3577 words

Genre/Warnings: Fluff/Angst

If you want you can check out some more on wattpad (:

As I ran along the corridor, late for class, I bumped into someone with a loud ouch. "I'm so sorry" "Hey its no problem, let me help you," a soft voice responded. As I reached for my potions home work, a hand brushed mine. Remus John Lupin, my rival. The only person who's intelligence rivaled mine. The person who makes my life living hell. The sweetest gum-drop to everyone, loved by all. However, I'm not "all."

"Y/N?" he asked, looking at you with those big brown eyes. "I'm fine Lupin," I respond as I grab my book from his hand. "At least let me-" "I said I'm fine." He slowly gets up, and offers me a hand. I huff and shove it as I stand. "You know I was only trying to help y-" "I'll see you in class Lupin," and with that I storm off, leaving a very confused boy.

Now you're probably wondering, what makes one hate Remus Lupin, the sweetest guy, the glory of the marauders. Well let me tell you, not much.

My mother and his were the very best of friends, there by, we became best friends. Every holiday, every weekend, every opportunity we got, we were at the Lupins. Remus and I grew close. He shared his love for reading with me, a love I always had but never felt so confidence to share with him. From fantasy to romance, I read it all, but I never shared it with him. The vulnerability I felt knowing he'd see what I enjoyed, what I loved, what I wanted, it was too much. His mum told my mum about his "illness." He thought himself a freak, a monster. He would cry about it, the pain he felt, the embarrassment of scars. To me, he was all but an angel sent from heaven, beautiful and pure.

Before we began Hogwarts, we made a promise to never leave each other's sides, to remain best of friends, no matter the houses or the circumstances. As it turned out, we weren't sorted in the same house. Everyone was shocked knowing that studious Remus was sorted in Gryffindor while me, odd-ball and awkward, was sorted in Ravenclaw. At first we were both shocked, but we kept the promise.

Until one faithful day.

Now while I never shared my love for reading with him, I did share everything else. My love for baking, knitting and potions, you name it, he knew. We shared our darkest secrets with each other. He shared his insecurities about his scars, and me my insecurity about being "fat." We made plans to open a book/tea shop, he would supply the books and I the tea, obviously. He knew everything about me, except for my reading and I knew everything about him. And for that, I loved him, but he never loved me.

In the beginning of the first year in Hogwarts, in the middle of a potions class, we were presented with amortentia. Why we were presented with such a complex potion at such a young age, I couldn't tell you. Perhaps Professor Slughorn was feeling cheeky. I smelt him in it. I smelt the soft worn out pages of the books that he read, I smelt the roses he always grew, his chocolate he always carried and something entirely him. After class, we met at the lake, our place where we'd meet and study. As I approached him, he seemed really tired, as usual, and something I thought I never imagined he would posses, anger, raw and bitter anger.

"Hey Rem, you alright?" He turned to me with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. "Rem oh Gods, whats wrong?" I rushed towards him and slowly wiped his tears away. "Talk to me, please," I asked softly while I wiped all evidence of tears. He looked up at me, those beautiful kind eyes, eyes that held so much emotion but always the best ones. "I don't want to talk about it," he said batting my hands away. I awkwardly fixed my glasses, "Okay well whenever you're ready, you want to start studying for our potions exam?" I began to unpack my bag when he got up, fuming. "You know what, yeah I do want to talk about it" I sat up, completely confused. "Remus?" "Y/N how is it, the one person, the one person who hates reading, detests it, passes every exam without fail? And not just passes, but tops every class. How?"

I sat there gaping, "Well I-" "Don't lie to me, don't you dare." I stood up, a feeling of anger consuming me. "What do you mean Remus? I study just like you, just like everyone." He grunted and groaned, "Stop lying to me," he screamed, "I read everyday, I study all the time, and yet you, you get all the awards, all the academic glory" I feel myself begin to heat up and tears begin to form, tears I begged not to fall. "What do you want me to say Remus? That I cheat? That- That I use spells to make me remember? Is that what you want to hear?" He stares at me, his gaze hardening. "I'll give you one chance, and one chance only, tell me the truth." I step back, gaping, confused. "I already told you Remus, I do the same as you, I study." He looks to me and says in a tone I never believed he could conjure, "Fine, if that's what you want to tell me, don't talk to me at all." "Remus you can't be serious." The tears I tried my best to hold, began to spill furiously as his words made me crumble. "Y/N, I don't ever want to talk to you, I don't want to see you, I don't want to study with you and I sure as hell-" "I smelt you in the amortentia today," I blurt surprising myself. "You what?" "I smelt you, the chocolate, the roses, your books," I say sniffling. He laughs, a cruel sarcastic laugh, "Oh really? Me? You must be joking?" I stare at him, confused and hurt. "You think I'd ever smell you, or like you. Y/N you're bloody lying to me, I could never like, or for that matter, love someone as hideous as you." My eyes begin to gush now. How dare he? The one person I trusted, my best friend. "Remus you don't-" "Oh but I do," he said while he picked up his bag and looked at me. "What about our plans?" He looks to the school, "I could never work with someone like you Y/N, I've never disliked someone as much I dislike you now." He begins to walk to the school, "Remus wait I-" "Leave me alone forever Y/N, and don't come here anymore, I have other plans here, plans that don't include you." With that, he walked away, leaving me, my tears streaming, my glasses foggy and my heart broken.

So you see, I never really hated him, but I obliged to his wishes. We never met again, he hung out with his friends, James and Sirius and Peter. As for me, I hung out with the first person I spoke to in Hogwarts, Andromeda Black. Now, Andromeda and I are two very different people, but we shared a love for potions . She knew of my love for reading, she saw me reading on my first night at Hogwarts. We became quick friends, and she soon became my best friend. She's like a sister to me, but I never did tell her about Remus.

After I left Remus on the corridor, I ran and met Andromeda in potions. "Hi dearie, saved me a seat?" She laughs and moves her bag. "Students, please note, today we will be brewing potions in pairs," the class sighs, "pairs that have already been chosen." I sigh loudly. "Cmon its not that bad, you could be paired with that cute Hufflepuff guy." We laugh softly. Remus and another guy run in and swiftly sit down. Professor Slughorn begins to call the list of pairs. "Andromeda Black and Xenophilus Lovegood," with that Andromeda groans and gets up. "Y/N Y/L/N and Remus Lupin," and my mouth fell open.

Remus came to my seat and we began to collect and prepare the potion. No one knew the potions name, only its ingredients. However, these ingredients seemed familiar but it never clicked. I felt his eyes stare through me. From the first year to the fifth year, my body didn't really change, I still remained a "fat girl" but hey I grew some boobs. Does he still think I'm hideous, I thought. I shake my head and we work in silence. "So how are you Y/N" he asks softly. Those beautiful innocent eyes stare right through me. Nope, not happening. "I'm fine Lupin" "Quite the tumble you took today, I-" "Let's just finish this okay?" He shakes his head and we work in silence. He seemed, nervous? Sad? Distressed was the word. After finishing the potion, we all gathered at the front. Dread began dawn on me as I fit the puzzle pieces together. "Now, who can tell me the name of this potion hmm?" "Amortentia , sir," I say in a soft voice.

"And Y/N can you tell me what happens when you smell this potion?" "You smell things that you like sir," I answer shakily. "Very good Miss Y/L/N, please, do us the honours of smelling the potion first." Dread fills me, but I still walk towards his desk. Please, I silently beg, please. "Well Y/N what do you smell?" I inhale the the aroma. "I smell- I," I gulp, "I smell roses, chocolate a-and books." Professor Slughorn applauded and awarded Ravenclaw 20 points and I return to my original place. I feel his eyes on me, but I only feel pain. After four years, how can I? As class is dismissed I begin to rush outside, but he grabs my hand. "Y/N please wa-" "Let go of me Lupin" "Y/N, please I-" "Lupin let go of me," I hear my voice break with emotion. He hears it too and let's me go.

Later that evening, at the brink of dusk, I sit in my room reading. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, a favourite of mine, and one of Remus' too. I sighed and stared out the window. Its been four years Y/N, pull yourself together. Those four years were one of the most brutal years. Thank goodness for Andromeda, without her I'd be so lost and defeated. After that day where Remus and I fought, he moved on well, he was constantly surrounded by his friends and well I, I was alone. I spent my time helping Madam Pomfrey. I learnt how to conjure spells to fix injuries and how to fix bones and so on. Although Remus and I stopped speaking, I never told anyone about his "illness," but I did help make the potion to control it, Madam Pomfrey taught me how to. He didn't know this either, not that he'd care or want to talk to me or- Pull yourself together Y/N, he forgot about you, he kept his promise and you did too. I sighed and began to turn in for the night, my mind racing.

To say I avoided Remus for the next week was an understatement, I ran from him. I spotted him the corridor, I ran the other way. Saw him in class? Sat away from him. Saw him in the library or lake? I'd be gone before he could say quiditch. It hurt, but I needed to do it, our last conversation played in my head over and over again. I couldn't bear his venom again, but I missed him, but could I manage without him? Hell yes.

On the Sunday that week, I walked down the stair well of my common room, wearing a fluffy sweater and cozy joggers. It was exactly midnight and I'd gone avoiding Remus perfectly. The heavy monsoon of October interrupted my sleep, but otherwise the school was sound. I crept down and checked for anyone. No one, lovely. Now I know what you're thinking, Y/N what on earth are you doing? Its bloody midnight. Well, I'll tell you. I was going to read. Due to my hectic schedule and lack of free periods, I spent most of the day working. But at night, it was the only time I read. I grabbed my wand and made my way to the library, my footsteps muffled by the pitter patter of the rain.

As I reached the library, I sighed in relief. No hiccups on the way, thankfully. However, the scent of chocolate lingered in the air. I tensed but brushed it aside, he was here today Y/N, I said to myself. I shook my head and began to search for a new book. I gently tapped my wand against a lantern and held it. Tonight was a mellow night, I wanted some excitement, a bit of comfort. I sighed, laughing to myself as I grabbed Pride and Prejudice from the bookshelf. I made my way to my reading nook, a cozy little spot, very hard to find, between the ends of the furthest bookshelves. As I read, my eyes became droopy. Five minute won't kill me, I convinced myself. As my eyes grew heavy and began to shut, a loud crash jolted me awake.

Who on this bloody earth would be in the library at this hour, I thought to myself. I extinguished the lantern and hid between two bookshelves. I held my breath and counted silently as I heard footsteps approaching. I exhaled slowly as I heard them fade away slowly. I stood up and sighed, picking my book from the ground, making my way back to my nook. Or I would have, if it weren't for the hand that grabbed me.

I spun around and was promptly shoved against the bookshelf, a warm lean body pressing into my cold soft one. They covered my mouth but I saw no hand, their other hand trapping my hands above my head. They slowly removed their hand from my mouth, and removed their cloak. The warmest brown eyes, eyes filled with emotions I've only read about, met mine. "Remus," I exhaled in a mix of shock, hurt and relief.

He stared at me, those big thoughtful eyes watching my every move. He took his hand and fixed my glasses that slipped down. "Hi Y/N," he said softly. My heart caught in my chest and my throat felt thick with emotions. "Let go of me Lupin," despite me being a larger girl, Remus was still stronger, by a lot. "Cmon Lupin, let me go, I'll leave and you can have your private time," I begged looking into those beautiful hazel eyes. "If I let go," he whispered softly, his breath tickling my ear, as he leaned in,"will you let me talk for a minute?" My heart hammered, "Yes." He slowly let go of my hands and stepped back. I sighed with relief, and then shoved him and ran.

I ran out the library, down the hall. I heard him calling my name but my tears that streamed my face answered why I couldn't stay. After four years, I never did stop loving my- the big goof. I reached the end of the corridor and ran onto the lawn, a stitch forming in my right side. I gasped as I felt myself begin to freeze in the cold rainy night. Bloody twit used a hex on me. He approached me with a vigor and I stared at him, tears streaming, and my heart hurting.

"What the hell Remus, let me go," I gritted as I tried to move. He took my wand away and held it. "Look, I just want to talk, I'll let you go but please, please listen to me," he pleaded. How could I ever say no to that beautiful boy? I nodded as best as I could and he unfroze me, my wand still in his hand.

I stared at him, my tears flowing in torrents, just like the rain, "What do you want Remus? I did as you asked, I left you alone," I shout over the boom of thunder. He looks at me and I saw tears flowing down his face too, "Tell me the truth Y/N" "Remus I di-" "No Y/N, tell me why you wake up every night, why you sneak off to the library every night." "I-Remus b-" "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice cracking, "You made everyone believe you were uninterested, bored by reading. You lied to me," I sobbed. "I didn't want you to-" "To what Y/N to judge you?" he stepped closer to me as the rain and soaked our clothes. "To what, think you a nerd? Like me?" "No I-" "Y/N is that really what you think of me, well than-" "I lied because I couldn't let myself be vulnerable around you," I say as I sob looking away, "Remus, I- I didn't want you to see what I liked or what makes me cry, or angry or happy," I sniff as thunder booms, making us both jump. "Then why did you tell Andromeda?" I gape at him, "Yeah why?" I felt my anger build up, "She found me reading one day Lupin, I don't have to explain myself to you," I huffed as I began to walk away. "I smelt you, in the amortentia," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion.

"In our first year, I smelt you," he said, stepping closer to me,"I smelt green apples, like your perfume, cookies, like what we baked, and books. Books." I stand staring at him but he continued. "I smelt you but you never told me about how you read, why you'd come to class tired, or why you stayed up all night. I thought you trust me Y/N" "I did Remus and I do," I cried, "I just couldn't afford to be vulnerable around you." "Wh-" "Because I love you Remus," he stared his mouth ajar, "I've always loved you Remus, I love that you trust me, that you showed me everything, your likes, dislikes, loves, hates, the good and bad." The thunder boomed but I continued, "I didn't tell you because I was scared Remus, it felt like sharing a piece of my heart with you, and I didn't know if I wanted to share so much, knowing that you didn't love me." I sob miserably as tears flow slowly down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I never meant to hurt you," he cried stepping closer to me,"I know what I said that day, and I've never forgiven myself for it," he said as be wiped his eyes, the thunder rolling. "I'm sorry and I know I hurt you, I thought you hated me," "Remus I-" "I thought you hated me and preferred Andromeda to me." "Rem, you were my best friend, and I loved- I still love you," I admit, defeated, "I didn't want to show you everything, I didn't want you to hate me." He holds my hands and intertwined our fingers, "How could I hate you when you're my love?" he asked, as he crashed his lips to mine.

My eyes widened but I slowly melted into his embrace. He dropped my hands and pulled me in gasping softly. His hands wrapped around my waist and mine, tangled in his chocolate locks. I never felt such passion, such emotion, emotions I only read about. I felt tingling sensations stretch across my body but his touch soon soothed it. He pulled away slowly, both of us gasping for air. "I've always loved you Y/N," he said as he pulled me close, his hands wrapped around my waist,"I'm sorry I hurt you, I'm so-," I silence him kissing him softly, "It's okay Rem, I would have probably gotten mad too," I said sniffling. He chuckled stroking the small of my back. "Well, I think of a way I can make it up to you." "Oh?" I sniffle as I look at my beautiful boy. "Y/N, you are the love of my life, I love, love, love you," he holds my chin and and makes me look up at him. Raindrops and tears mixed and fell down both of our faces. "Be my girlfriend, and maybe one day-maybe one-," I kiss him and he sighs, relieved. "Yes Rem, I'll be your girlfriend."

He hugs me and kisses my forehead. We hold hands and walk in the rain, talking and laughing. "So how on earth did you know that I read in the night?" I ask him. He laughs and pulls us into the corridor, sopping. He shows me the marauders map and explains it. "I'm sorry I spied on you," he apologised blushing. He held my hand and led me back to my common room. When we reached, I turned to him. "Thank you for the walk Rem, I'll see you in class today?" He smiles his signature gorgeous grin, "How about we skip today?" I laugh and I kiss him, "Whatever you want Rem, Whatever you want."

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