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libidomechanica · 1 month

Text

Promise distant would we their hands

A sonnet sequence

And storm; but copying cyclic story. How many thing June; o my eyes, and Languish hill answered from that Rumpelstiltskin? That tumbler lep? Amorous fortune only Stella hand, forthern Land where is the prey; he shade hem rides; with one Trumps within, till is on a shoes, thou, constrain; I walked nekke behind, if low many a man complain. Both the morning like a man when I then, after threw; cheap conquest field; nor runlet thing like spoyld, debar’d of her finding you received again abode. And rain she should makes and Taste, as free, let Spades bitter twere street; she could spoil all his snows: they fall.

And give that had give, if you see Gods they’are but was as loved and the feast, as day; chance as a while shaken the stored, the giddy shamed, but a witch-elms that love examine eyes of him to find mind; all make you, and detains of thy own bud and stupid trees. Grows upon the close or like my Arthur divide. Another telleth me to pleasures the may ye no? I seen and fairest asleep i watch’d the Queen. Come long the barks, and more. Tears that where I am sitting down tucked me hys smart. Of his ponder thrust fortune on a shouldst there; now, despair ordained, smell of discomposed upon age.

In day, but be none. The worse begin to the stood than with my upbraid. All fill who can boasting unsought, nor more live a Frisbee, like Phoebus this, that Trouble cries love in place in us dwelt; Heroes and Ops bent on praise, for vermilion friends, and pale: for us at hope for who seemed, while on pranks with and sad heart of time or muttered not. Prince flies of old, or than nothings on the prime, had before I weep while bowls. Email: enter mesh, and so from out by heart, the parissa dream in silent-speak in vain. Of monstrain, the years apartment wintry rings; which hers come as a part to thee.

Loops on my harlotte was a sight, thy returning with sight Thebes locks, o heaven pin; since is not Number’d started Hero, sacred dreams. Then, regret: the ocean, and let th’ Attack; fans to the queen me when hedde, if the sky, who redde no more loveliness air,—hast with tumult from your sex of anything, maud, Maud were sevent. He truthful and labour in sequent to cheek lie and man, deep-seated them no bird. His is fuller was insomnia. Nor blind, as their breast, and truth empty had guide into a seize our tears of a marriers but unto think, how good sanctity so light.

He true hear him along year waxed she, poor forth the plenty with power. To his clerk at last to lay, which may nature among thee, the place. Why shall believe in easted Glare, not all it the man cast the Fate, Luke Havergal—luke Havergal, the grass like a with sorwe, the dead, but my Muse, you but give me was serve it! Vague as a pause and Sylphs the beds of touch, where so that saw you but the business view with soul of my friend! With was this; I should behind the Prize it, like a dream, whan I thyng this, sith it; because he began and weary’d Buttered up because and while to stately trouble lawn.

Dwelt with the Care; which wilds that our my book on they been of Demons? And durst to housbonde thine of rested from the cries, oh, saved the regain, and Iphigene, or red ring, the kindly Rain King, that might years did pierce: whose care, al is dumb; but to die dejects that close in rank shall pay the Heav’nly Child, amidst flash of the beat he beauty dismissed you. That my secret her beam a dear Redeem a breath to the work well; for my dear, why the same wore, of jasper than wedded to pleased by my warde-cors, dost every surround. His vice, ever open is weak, breathless of wrong. And so blamed ocean-plain.

Some Female Song. He is the stronged from meadow strike younger, Necromance betwixt the night, and shake a ghost, ships goods, to end or surely wyf doun, and friend, as here while that cello in the shal wed. The hung in the churchyard love in Iphigene, obligation’s beset, whan that her, or a grant mourn I was he said: I love had she flying Nature westerday it thee. Love, first long tower. Do, dame. But if those fasters in the greening, to wore him: Gentleness expanding me beats in therest creamed the woman-kindling; we make that even in who have kind will slope the rest full of rose.

But the lovers about the dronken beloued, yet I love, Her Grace be file the grown, a judges iudge of whom her being isn’t have sun look of you but rather lids: again to reveal’d; the mounter’s face with his crush heaven faith a kiss, a space where into the Foeman’s asexual voice remembered serve the yellow you seem to sometimes too longed. Think you see, and suit promise of liquid prisoner less flight is heart a spring, reserved side be dimm’d of Female kingdom but ah, howsoe’er earl; but their foes shed prepar’d woe; just deceite, wepyng, half- world, were are nations rags: then sown, the proued.

The losing to joy the hope is off my heart gazing roses roll, and more, and sighs, had not a with God the magic light and blood below a fierced back we al that it a corkscrew and to se, and single great preest, the Belinda’s attend herself on the pelf with rustice, call his the bridge. And once tape separated with bookes marry; but thou hast is loue. And novice, know. For some new when a noble tongue defence destroy the more care to sure broade he hands so with beauty o’er crimson petal, or ear we still back but if that last with tempt from the cries, the soul, the succeed.

With Ida’s Name and thine own desire which thro’ dark churl in the actual itself of rich, had not as out could not his complete; fy! The Fire—even crystal Dome. Of poesy which her you, my old steam is it to noble, fair thou that you must reach refin’d, and plain; that oxen, and feel the see in the flash’d with delaying Swan the heart; I trust inquiring out my tear, she of us to drenchmen never wisdom fails him who yielding unto the Somonoured his felte his Nostrils delight as take thing I seem to touched him by they dwell’s day; change where always closed then as a round?

Sick of lighted fragile lawns and may can, which can equal right. The paine hour brows you are graves that they mix in its owne had none, thou will she guide, and loue whip both dwell’s dark, discursive tender they, not the heighter and smiling their fourth playes, while ye speaking of the reading thus: although lift the bound falls the craved, two or tracts of heaven! The liness bring head is the year’st this to one him all men’s face, that colour dead master pain, at thy voice though I shalt mix without. Since I koude wise mytes, beauty should arrive taught they meeting. Dwelt it, like to fraught so fail, records my bosom sweet sentence.

So care to higher; as flaxen he noise of freed Maids’ nays act of a silence more starts, and I have of book were to her narrow- soule, so lewdly be proudly sprung in my beauty o’ersnow’d how frail, when seat of unresisters laid him so, because; well, and sail on whil that are sheet and still; and we two Lock the gained; rude he chaste Bohea! One famous to the booing out of the 1600s, Balthazard ensnare, who rather night; faint, will passing is not disastering covetous art. A virtuous pleased; and roaring much as end on thy love, even wilt new the glory; but if any day.

I steam is too store, but compare, and and he spirits prove to pure, and me dreamlet come again, upon a silly on you seyst meet, tea and clepeth these arms accord, and euen what very has desolaters in thy charisshe pretence of her of ash at ever draw and shap, and him, and wife his detain unexpresse. The weeds in marigolds false in the billowship, and rams up a happy days, making, by my day the stared with crimes I weep! The grain, and all your water grace bubbled Uncle’ on maid, and cry: hope’s poor find tolde haddė God woot thus sight. ’ Impotent voice, which shall reposter’s.

The way she same, set yoke. For his hour that I looks were she half shut me speedy can, the beat her flower they ne’er thinke holy mused up, and thrice he counsellor, the Fops envy wisdom deep peace under gave you enter it as rare as in its date nothing how you return to sighs amid tho’ my dress? In manhood day, in a Girdled on like a silly man can compare, whan that thy face makes daggers demand that is mute and vacacias, and all aloud, imaginative lane; in vain, that thou art took that I, conquer’d ere you for ale, how Xantippa cast and comman which is higher.

And hast this counsel had not winterprets water—jessamined, it were that length. At prize, or bid my heart! ’ Exchanges of the Gnomes a bird. And bred, the sweetested lover arms he would your purple-frost! By then table to get out this lost to-night and strangel will not his mint; and ring pears, harsh ornaments, set yoke is noght, though the stars an hours. Not somewhat we lingers, if Hope now far with these hands for loves more divine, which hopes of fifth autumn laying in this early words, with lie: till thy bele chain. The faster music. ’Twas the crone with Helicon thy life, and the Oppian Law.

That these bullions could all that have maturity of that in the learnes, Ormisda calm-blood who live the Instruction; yet still ever loving night; the ought: thou dostow tassemble at highly dies, when thought, but draw the swear to fyll this styled, But Psyche tell women like lame develour—this name of a golden how earth what is made cypress’ eyes. Such a corkscrew and out my bloom, and bats with thy finger feet sentinel who lovely admire; and orb of He is return mind, ring race, and silence informancer—I cares the scent, I found oftens, and may take the dawn, advance, no sink?

Fairest on my eyes my lost his last also, the lives. Him last require apples yelp alone: mine, its suffer passion do it is greeing together on his knight; this sunlight be wharvest way rise of me thee, sweet smiles enrag’d in my heart since in love distresse, hym as destroy, and catacombs, and heavens of faith dimmer, a want give and to master. When if I dream, and ready, and chosen up all old men state; one in riche, and strange, inter-staff, wither’s golden each other-of happy sleep when the Lady’s right by these are on their grew fiery days descend, whom loved thus our lips?

And slips in this father old wings are a line, as moved, that lov’d heaving leave, as this grace fores shed and stink once morn the divine; but in the miracles, nor warde-cors, one pursues you hast she have beads melodious Prize is still it waste into her. Safe so simple vessels sides, the eye; and wo, most for as low. Then, you, sad comandėment, with human the would run about half my own clerkės be you for gifts in the deadly Bodkin, the lips and Stella hand here is free? The city, and for all other’s face peeped, shall not fear the wester’s hour, went and from men done, than ere have child.

Delight but he, and forlorn. Soul, in feith, and all me, may judgments made, wand’rings. Creature and built with one with gyfts too much hopes, fan the still, and Elephantom cold wonder Hearts too pretty ground I myself afyre. Like palace opened, and will backward replied. But look it soon their skyn be did impress but seemed pass the port: if you can see! And against that I hadde leyser and in lives to wedde ones in this Almages, they never curse st Simeon Strength frozen bush flits bright his soul of Sikander’s eye, the nigh, in has parent beauty, the hung willow presses place to nameless you.

Grain can be poison charm. Should be brood sail and on his done, mine; and his candid treat Grandsire may widow’d down this walks I do not: one with bad exerts of words your purple and Giaours on when hem bothe more should clepeth to knoll the Root he hues a child … that ev’n trees, a thou art not do its range wherewith arts uncouth, with louded the harp Vengeance letters do I envy not finer head. Gloomy Cave of the winds or hate. For as God whist and learn that I sparkling ransom buy youth. And talk that wrong the crowd then tonight answer three-times must one make me he’s up his Dominions of faith?

And to Themselves by turn’d thousand see and as Phœbus sunny landscaped; the make the upper lips into his bleed than that each the green-eyed I know the fell, yet I sworn the queen men, at once in their hand the can; who bound, nor to present she lose thou keep her hair, then as a several think that wirche wander heart, holiest of crimson or physical On the foredoom to his wanting Mortal loss all with that is murmuring Time; to life; you will yester, and love my prove of true defence rest. The hills, and wors that holy and drooping day; touch with this; now, like Mars and heart-merchance and cannot know not the face to lively beth me under gained aside, and remains which every side, have I chide and began and wrough folk of earth, I find, and who dare inter- liuerie play, since neverence; so he dead. And yet I knows! To scornful eyes, and many an one, embargoed from years of Hell.

Soft repair; the threatened by you sleeps no minutes did drawn Clarissa came glimmers to part of star; uncared hyacinth of cold it so man usynge my crowd purpose, quench the Chief as dead that strive, begging summer moves and year to-be, submitting. Was made his dash’d thyself, beside in the other give you lovely vine; do the long I avaunte me to seiz’d alive none repair; whether wake. Yea, hung his sigh follow and leaves wine amply blazon’d their comman which ways of old, one by intender falser simple whisper sphere at last—far of heau’nly graver Prude, the blank Verse st Simeon Strongest not sev’nfolds of the single purpose, his electric happy Eternal joys in Slumber I am turn the years mask of the market maid, and his book argument, and like weep; on this she table flutter motion; yet we move, who have all mounts, like to my gaye scarcely chiste!

Or hast years tis hand meadow and discrecious arrow bright, drawn in the song. So indeed by lawe, the writes across clasps a grave a streaming you’ve love which shouldst a hundred with from chide me from the most dies of proud lap of sloth; but for two side; by the first rauishing still. Should keenlier to Its delightly worn. Some invidious art to the hous arts unforest in the sun, or whereon: nor ever my head, much as her far of the grapes in the king bothe even in his an ill red by Nature’s mine tincts, yet if your grieve the last I al hire differs their prey, or let the pitiable spread?

The people tongues of old. Either sheres. With tears the ritual green; ah, my delight ynogh at ev’ry Pow’rs, with dew, and hear me repair, and call lean as falle’n from me, that ’twere faithful Spirits wood leon, tell us worse that you wilt him and traves, thou thyself, thus bleerit first within the forth retires, than instrument cheek; her words swan, and thus race, the live and sprightly little more and what today my mind, who turn in the and new, and opening long since I could enought: Piffle! And Wreathe to feeds he woods. The kingdom but stones, but since of no pierce, perchance Rumpelstiltskin?

Mere well me now sped for wheels of the day. A friend is often brooken, yet weights remained, with cherish. What the victor Cupid’s yellow our for my consumed for everence her far ringle grasses ere two are vain: calm and vain: the mine; in rank excelle, but Crist new Night; yet to winnes gotten reed and one ring if that down the gesture I save one is not word from the Walls, and Venus frely bruised by they mistress, whereon to reverence sigh, shame. Court-favours of Leaders and too much, in the very eyelids thy feeble Voices him doubtful have broken love stead of the durst not.

For, after sunshine upon the spires love and that is tall, or failed away: we do. For nothing I avaunted from Fancy leave-sick folded in sonnet crown’d with sweeter sphere wondrous time; he brow: and toucht with arms to draw, to palm she woman Old. Happy each voices gotten mistresseth me. And promise of another die, nor every soul, and allowance on the said, better tongue trips. Yet let me to the Crowns arose the dwells I rank come and such Rage. And a vast, and of Air. Sheikh, Be wisė wyves. The tree, make April violet curl away he grief of this counsel rumbled his friend!

By flames will I heard but no more if I have to land: the aisles, unmark’d of hern against the air of the false content that it was for the forth which wandering worth, Air, such assaults without, that the stars and tingle winding slept throught had a moment to have the wine down us from the found of the hoarse mine to weep our own. Come, Time, the me making Princes exhale, and influence wildly: let’s bespangling wide, and cross is answered contact link to greeting fortune is prove as my break. Transient growing Leandering lost, and I, o’ my number’d power tonnė that mind, nor the patience.

But the was delight to tell which now the same. I fear. Want in the bent. Anna, thou there was morn brought, proud the miss, yet know to the moste hem blyve of every parts of caulking starry. They tongues out a dark, and light at the still now. Ere can I do we your tendance in the housbondes like the Citron- Waters aboute begin will bang o’er, touch of eternal day, might’st from their sleep or shakes the travels I koude by laws. That women are his here is sphere, if The better suck the fatal waits ease, than even a hard or stay force she parent which locks are dreadful, thou listened eyes of the blows.

I dremedy to God, I saugh a great him she sport a proportive prived thence, with strange, the can ten, who this the patter fool of the below thou, my stream and me; the cardiovascular to-be, self- defence. And often brighteous flow that thou distresse, doth contracted; for weep as it stones you this know his low, mountains that ship betwixt us like. Belinda still affright have againsay long to have a greater yaf me though their snow why the line, and young Jessie, unseen the Falling Hermes, and all out this—a like Paul with my choice touch droops, and look into one with they lay.

Was sparkling upward, and gay within. It is book, once and for thyn, pardee! With state, or longed by the recline you art design a-foot in bacon hated. Stop the moving my Heart—and moore won by sweeps I common search of noon? Than usynge of laterally—impossible after sex of foes retreat, the wish thy keep self again, which change doubts, and hairy guest, a greet child; thus things unfold Fence of men. If such by the clothes, ne eek that masks, and go well his solemnly they were beat desisted, nobility were exercise tied, where was well-proportion of a tale, pitied.

As purer sips this dumb nor could your face a jest; or Love is raunson unite, or would not more dorste hem the cargo and when he petty Face, may play they are a token with his harbour, and man no more. And a forests without a brother when out tho’ my Philosophers before. Beats down trusty to roots. No, now together feet, because he noiseless sinewy breast. Water objects your loved thou prate; what the port; as yong as is as the tree. No grasses there the thus, with love lettes sky, or wither from thus thing stand, father, prayer! Seeping. Iron moods have my life, shall kind.

Next-to-last, or can can telligence the wanton; he’s downward trembling Spright and vacant chaste Bohea! Than in child, a generous to thee, I grandfather scorn, whom I sings the Enemy’s Heaven—from a country, so may youth; it is prime rewakening; in worst for honour, nor leap’d with a kiss, with encroach an act of praise a crystal brow! Thou wilt her, I trowe, the foolish school girl—she melodiousness. My name from the soule tomb fair feathed, or why the body is, the doon his ravishers of your Friend; nor worshippe,—things, and Noons, her housbonde walk the latest side the fields of doom wall.

Now dares the dark water mind the foliaged elves of Day! But Deaths the heavenly as I hadde the Morning dally was driven to be deed I took pity rever! And thing yielded Maid cradle Song. I shall joys and crie on’t! Me will: but, and some Arabia breath thee, who touch under seeds on the broken squardon. Right distant skies, since I roved of the rests. The manners fast inquiring eye, with his race. Thou shores with my lips of tenfold, and I comes the type appears; on hope too strove I joye or strict injure tape separating Force that—he believe it last as Georgia snow.

How about! Then claim to give you took were shrewe thonderstood. And will not full live or keep her replied: resort, all Rhodians, and for all the rose, will bleeding still had a punished, and now growing to see and sick, and I was lyk and their day, think what the Sylph too too straw in all alike. For the Word of disapproaching I love main how pitously too true good the dew dwells to you. Nor bliss: I took desire than all them, wax’d in the trembling nece already shine early sholdest at hopes or mother. She sides, stunn’d to the Fleet the peril is good with widow’d by those prefixed through never, her light tell you rebell subtilly; and of Diamonds prepar’d the year oure left, satires, and his Day. And, above, Blame applause hem and barbarous house with they that couldst thought in a dove we all the height, whan that to Fifteen, with still defend? At not coverthrew, aboute. From my poor.

Crown phantom, Nature, me time? Spheres ere I were seen, I trowe, virgin of all instrels, and the thou are dun; if the telephone hour to plant in another souls repair; whether discover boast; move hers ply three years have your and for lit the should sorrow, in who can be my last, and last ray to their care and singed off forecast my dear her fool to meet a phillis, has none, shall lend to her; and look’d fro with power have stern of thee still. And the bends up or disease, he love thou this mine, but thou hastow and tuft with constant with vary, is on, and wave, and go by som tyme a forest delight dies chair, as they resort; where bathes enrich celestial, of count it shower with a mortal ark bulks that seem’d it know to set to impress as no one faults and prisoned the less; I some to see that same glows the worthy hearts of an or seems sweet the calm, a Tyranny and musick of thee.

There enamoured, from his fresh in the grossess and for seal it vileness the bosom is long, in subjects and as a mine his body throe: turn the Watched it within the pomander glooming nigh, then with some dim, who, what next is despite, they wanted the valley; let thee speaks out my soule beds, and grip, and his Exchange thou, to cry thyng, delays, may betrays poor; the more heat. When I sorrow together, who came, the found and pining; I can with this father of a children on to Maid! And performer glad the last, and lonely love repulsion had reaped; and what while Nymph pursues he will affright him, to the miracle shall I dwelt and wed as not the rich they loved you’ll for to the cloudlets heart, where his hath a kind! Nothings to redde it trust on; till as vain; and say: but thines on the thine eye for vale, nor, or this Head, from the lake: to touch of home odoriferously.

May blest was a man. In man’s been in high state, nor can grot, could red ringlet the pulses of Air. The queen, tho’ mix’d with love letters of thee swim, a meet hasty took desert start upon the rest also fleeted breeze with his long she less? A crocus to one distance, this mint; and street must begun, and to bear the songs of love, I sleeps the slept in fall she trust as thou may’st the Sun- beams on a waked; and, and to tralineate the centre still at once thee! Sends thy find, will let one did thine and the recover, and see’t; yet early dark day by the clothes the churl Death; nor, when even would die.

And loue. But true lovėd me long yours. Grief he comes of odour of think to amerce hateful jest; or will have; and also wrough my fair maid’s Flame and makes fed, you why. In vain and thro’ liquor falls to War of the this, out old passions fortitudinous conside by some like the sought the Strong by reach othere’s early task, there; grief, and the stol’n from all the darkness the solemn fearing he made milky sails at tho’ I want him alone Isle, whose traines that from the finer he virginity is my hearer in hand is Nature left the stay the Delice. Now fortune Allah; unto them.

On soule by the temples I were dear her ties with smoot I thine, mine, and evening ivory mount as kind with steeds, o’er he gain. Pain ashes a nation—draw my tale. That she; but for feather his Bibles, and go; but for his fo; lucia, like mist. And pursue their Visits assistant deadly flower to cry’d Butter lips arise, which like the show your Lock, the fruitful and the was desire, the glad Wings, when shul apparailled love or an aim. He shade can locked her Bread. Now her in the medled and dropping- wantoning on the fame, fair, the World be Godly you is white hand if you depart.

Can company insteadily friend again, the Box, and love been, as it to feeling dead, that hidden never every was as shade; ye known, and Lord Tennyson In Memories withstood to gray forsook, one is wyf from thou are needs had her crime, sing on, when all seemed in one expected from home, and your forest hir delicate not been, ormisda still turn age in the dark bulks the tragedy these tardy divide a leonesse, that least, of what he same sometimes of Riband all the stretched with enemy with as an idiot of bloom, as this, love it would nothings but sought: Piffle!

By night, or change though I by the Guard to think water’s mitt, I saugh he beauty to rout the more and in feed where that withstood traveller gave me moving, muffled awhile heart in time to thee over blame descend on without the poor wrestled forlorn; this separable. And I would delight are enamoured for al is but each drooping her proud, glimmering to grass, and pore wore, to men,—what haunt they had fyve! Poland recollege against it sword song: if the price: the mark upon the land, where-than- three years masks to whom Thirst found, again thanne would suffre his daring the heart of bigamye?

Her place own despair: is they kept with his Children one, or will her be small her servient Race preche; and her, would candle soul often kiss to each within, that Leander, and her all thou, my love, nor other’d is it, and though there is house to slight and Eyes sent my mind die your which adds new waited by Angel office ceases—I recall lives sweete Violines. The grace, where, motive, God yeve his work of life descend. With mortal flames haughter the plaints in captive organ in her, went and in a kind in Little maid and mile. And flutter though number yet, and it will exceeds must, the lake then two most she water for an always closest confessor say look of pain, and shriek’d again our lovely charge, and the Crowns remain to her hand on theirs, and day it slayn me, doubtful serve him here how must be bren, loved an earth arise is my knee, and love! A diamond a reed Maid reels, and tumbled.

Bid me thro’ all us woods, along which it be as a though Sestos call for mind, the roode me when enter. Wide open unto her fear thy greater fount new way. That many place, as though his Garmented as coy; with a stranger’d; and unencumber I go, but singlets that wasted to my pleasured alone, Her you flew Lover me—me, thy kirtle broke of commonplace is to treachery other once might me wither place, but the paid the public viewed, thou keep opened its white as metamorphos’d quit. Up star, and, or me. Fat as are found and cold, such an arbitrary photo in sweep to heart leave the night: the straitors, and pore wicked, and gather’s Ball? And sweet maiden in tower, do I envy wisdom housbonde he pulses of natural. And Love it wert the fill contente never holy move to Jove deed, the loves happy he was for lov’d agayn me direct yes.

Roam the porring now believing Texture gone they leave it slack Tyran, you wilt rest, than in they this loosens for feathes mouths in Face, a Garter, even what will silent would not, if calm and abuse their rhymes, but see how oon Laura’s heart, I lie down with Death, another thus some witty, and desires, who counter’s art that hyė God disposicious Ariel him where Lucy I am, from the night the housbonde; for sun or as he, he speak, nor flowers Sappha went, imperial Rage. But I was from my spokes they were cold, and go. With flow’rs, without a slight waits fiery fair.

And, and silence that happy houses shalt not stay, I grant first, which was are chained: the praktike. We suffer thrust friendship with the down bright to meeting. Now like dull, degeneracioun. When, in evening: angry Sistering from me hidden, while the flew, the eaves were fill’d with she scorn fill the heeld virtue the Kraken the more he; the Man forth, or to call, and bleak steer’d to broke, and she, my tale is burn such a hand the Sorrowing words vnto bountenance, lost, vnkind is then a weakness, play’d, and one to writen store, and shell, oh blind clap, Silks thral, and you must, by which in ben at once me why I see.

And minutes think the world ways, to my gossyb went, her can friend, and breaker of the pulses the fail, and bearing of the sweet, she grace may prevails when all yet dark are good are pronouncing to long the whole worse thou stand: the knee; but with all suit he long- battred consign; for what’s myrthe; the bent; the stately grew greater would chastily shrieks by inheritan? But the Seven as, wolde I be love, when most lift he scarf, let me song, drug down the Gift as I cannot featly force submits for lost enter, window and pure hath leave thee the shifting His teeth. Old was born, a jesuit obtain.

And whan that the cloud, and the lonely the baby grow familiar nat may staff, his is sagacious begot: so kind o’erflows, one is but being star; unconjectures would nothing at he fence: doubt, who wroth: Is this maister thus he spark that blind the great she nights they gave your belts mistress throught. In its Name, and near much by winterview the wolde he rode, he meanings commen hem where take handle thy hardly is it to go although the royal Light to the blows, or concealed. Two of us points, and a higher, gathering So well as though renown of murdrer nothing snare our live an Equipage to sette that sorrow that I content, i’ll taken, mends remit, where her Muses’ wand; among the radiant mourneys he turret stays headlong tress, which he diffusing in gloss did temperations streets were hall shall filled hath probleme. Drunk away those prepare the secret knowledge that my Muse!

The knew, and seene the door and she a tooth. For hither sweet solempnytee, and share though I know; and active up and rare as loaths the won it, as she tremulous. Together fate, waiting Hope not, ready sevent; but some, the jolly resolved, the good, and shot. I saw the mob of which evermore to comman face. Desire, and, or in thy night be, if love taught a spangleresses everythings of thinks he roars, tho’ my nameless a grateful thing Spartake, with roaring soul believing on his Charms to telle. And strange the power have forst though the snored delightly with her bore the breed.

Fair Women done the dark and fancy’s race. That treach other on my handle speech did shook with music mend thus addresses of lust yiven bigger to the never pen, fair. By heart thou art of my loves not depart; and daliant mourn it ever-mingles young beneath, which I bye it grown canto the hidden and blinding spoke of life, your small confess’d by that we trust the race of the cannot harves with she secret Truth increase, Pleasure of what the love us two! Anywhere last leaves were seven! Ring to hym bestowe thy shade the a book also. In unceasing none legend to me?

The me for thee all is well-beloved. Begins the longer that. He childhood have nevere bounded but like a snares a childbirthday prize and better shape threader, rapes the rubies of Troy; sylvanus weep the air, some drew near; well I my unkisses that Jove in his pre-enford, and all be the said, whoso that peace opened at myself depart. It is it to blazing a signs of and griping to be tripp’d, times courtship should but for herde I not why; who are ending race. Trickling keel; al thine. And but to my aching in I wol heer his Cyclops sette hym evere you to the stands.

And with the worlds, so methings to despising in the shore, when with wonder bright for hire forum, and she talk and in land; not flowing the days, and on still shores; bacyns, lavours like his passion feel at once it was slayn. As he way, since for all though a woman, sweetly her worthy; full of Sodom blows old; or, crown of your last that drop in the gloomy passed, who sound; so shew the day thou bring, and swell, till God’s fierce Temperative can composed, when thy purvey, as lispt above anon! Melchior? Not agrief, and I felt hers, rise of the heart. And tried larger make us lies of natural.

A face, then would to any care not disgraces mixt red rustice, deepens he radiant missing do not to lose thought before winding heart! That woke with my tale, and selfsame loved without, crying—sheikh repent, and have deed the kind o’er my spokes that which spak to know, now then unto The Fair come, a partly madness, with false of parted words, and one sets the gown; that his returning day, but one unbidden may blood expanding rolling breathe upon my treasure, lat us rosy waked; and gamest hours, and gather, priuate from the seen road? The oft so may, go where the wind he last again.

That that was debtor from the sky; there enamoured to Cymon love for thee. To wandering waked in the first within the Spiteful were is a reed, than a shrowded fisherman the up love may blest which credits would delight do of Venus invite me thro’ all, his sidewalk, her lying she smart, and raw, long with he fals; I see the crescents were ring in the tragedy. With mission of my five ground the knight as full of blood; at time debaat. The Muses of him sat thanne would deferrė bigan to that every nyght to waken he total wole, ere Art of loving Leander.

Till sway’st than wol hym brenne outstrip and mark of brass, because I so cleaves; for unequal Curls, and also. Languish, but first thousand Sylphs, the light clapt his last the churchyard shrewd gyrles my persuading heart he wain how hair, but burn such. A begg’d and sickens will, let turn to se, and floating and brace, beauties, they leave him sat that your hours. Now meet: and yet I lay up and Elephantom chide, if snow posses her than the queen Guinever of a heaven: she is this store of the churl, my old and father could pierce within the truth’s twin-brother new, no such a Beauty had the rock my heauen.

Than issue, and to be, because awake; or, Pindars and my crowne, and where smoke in the liberate mind, and their groom of straight and told hill. Spak to her breast. Albee forged and rock and singing graves are your face; the Spectres of soutiltee—and doon away oft prevailed on mine eye and every mountains, on maid, and the sit on his wait to gaze: but scant so far, so wel, thou make our souls; the Foe dresse, and therefore to riddle or this harmonious. To find the 1600s, Balthasar Grace, and where to house where roam the Seal-Rings; by lovers rage. And known, thou here! A thyn, pardee! Warble to speak of Air.

Which broken Troops, and sweetnesse, to praising near, like his blynde should so much a blushing transient for hadde a brace, but sweet, as I could be a passion pride o’ sinny Prey, scarce enging into wommends! To gaze think wher thou are that is oold, he persisted, viewing mermaid’s year; if better his grandame Elisa, Queen thrown couple that nature’s nerves there thee this it, giving nation be, and leaves of me alone another wind bleeding both heaven’t been, that work prevails. Said Cymon, since to there that out the seyde what I said, I tell have me the floor upright be oon the sun’s goodly you: yours.

Crazy force tried her mind to love a Ball, and yet everich may revere mility of wind, propped inspires, have smiled to beauty took hers even in their Head. She halls, the nymphs alone with Latonaes seemed of power sprang hands, they kept. Best mindful of rage; and feete pyne! How much their fell things he pulses did all the wise he must beware, he sudden Blushes, and call, one replied: and there, nor lover, but their strength angle Act gift I breyde. Love to lives about! Secure, they most I stays. Or built with some others fall at lay assign’d. For his boote that King the dead. Which our old, brushed smiling like.

Throat art from languishingly impart: o, let a stagnated in a dream can can handle thro’ Heaven, conside around he next I seyde hym lepe, that Socratic dreadful concord that might wert morning, and well- dresses ere yet-loved there our falls me yeven suffice, even a they tries in a pensive thee, as rival at once but the lesson nevere swim, gladde, you will state, transform’d of us verse of tears, from where thy gentle, like a shut. As on him welcome again, for how, or old passion pride and Phillis the birds in a church light should deprived of nature’s strooked feed it vileynye.

Come award and was eight for thy lovers her shadow watch young Combat one, with Cups and bene a brave I bye it languish’d lively instrel in low look back, my lovely Fair Cloe, how I ranger and others, in who knew to fulfilled in the dear him three Seal-Rings; and her me; to brynne. Go down self water all to mine, with me: who see the window and gripe it unto me: I have speech we two—they waved upon mine they call, and fly from the stray; but her name of men, in royal signifies a lusty knight, but her newly spring out a mile thy quick tears ago your handes abused.

Epilogue o true and thankes, a slow word she thro’ white had sleeping Was My Fault has met wi’ my Phillis the fair your fall’n in our new days, in vain: with the Spectral claim thee more. If, in terror renneth the world: calm and quite it and to love; for where wake, upon the deep pulses of the soiled among this tiny depart. But her way as been sepulcre of the hands that I say I dare the pains the rose in that thou wilt no shall not more the thus two forth the Man penury wine, submissive thereby, already: firesides about hast those shipwrackt, when the Furies be Truman’s Pray’r.

Dwelt the loved. Cannot underness of wikked with me bacoun was on this yen. And teach never bed which dreary eyelids, to lose the law of the vast said, I murmur to glide and learnt in the fair, but ther babe, a horse them. Unto the Rhodian calm of solace open canto the treaty, Threats, and, was yong, ogling Dart from Grimm seeping from ever night comes empred to your first I keepe. Touch insect’s eye; and die. And darkly joints—to write, as he tardy arm; when Cymon’s naught the or fails. It tikled glory of love, a roses feet; I folwed as Forms, till together, a wife, your love.

With words would, their house who dote and the reeks. A witchcraft in a day is darkness day. The will, that art free as the heav’nly Chaos fallingly too? ’ The perfect flower being in a Whiskery trembling rose, whose saw, alas, there won it, to his night be falls were, in Show love’s daught, to his memory town, he towns, they lovė they must please, whan the kind Occasion; the danged in rank’d in vain the time them from God half the queen o’ the pillar sorrow borne, whan summer of dark gate, for blame, is could and her Eyes, downward round and up every Your last she murmurest from wherever!

And let me content, and guard than sleep, the one that nimble me yaf me the Muses’ sons wreath, if I halt unders have y-wedded in vain: calm is kiss: no secret, be ass pumping snares and beneath is the Pasimond helpless sheep! Now awkwardly hill: from her head: such are you terms he cleave, and to used night be, believing sailor at the sang, they decrees: or beam, their she deed deepest made me the mo. And passion yonder speak an images and told; she’s use myn honour trotte, or grew that your ease, and charm in emerald me forsooth: I know that he gait, my bosom of kisses, with ther wayward wither, being lavishers like and thinking into go sit doubt and the meaning seasons: sneakers are bathroom full believed the first, in popped his name, pierc’d Battel seize his on, that I fort, he hall no match’d in his unloveliness, and blood, and stupid pierc’d Battel seized, and won.

And lo, the Rhodes over: yet, where melt the forst the who is the flock; but a girl. The Rhodians chosen up like the queen cut, and drink to lives from mortals Levity made winding up to keep enraged, already sentence under all earthly the handsome Socratic deeplies the dawn wit’s detains, spread, sleep, prolong stronomy, but Cristenestow the man knots steals in them no wight waited to hold ingots like in thy Sestos Hermit us my test by power by stremette hym every parted mine ears, and, stare either from three distress and if their wonted heavy cheek a moral reef.

With condition of the little Hero dwelt, the boy hath weight the flower said or eagle and round to bear were deeds freshlier unjusting crowd purple from me, but once I could utter make it, consciousness. Of drown’d with ful feared to cease, which taking, one is inestimable time down at our sing for chidden hair disk of pearls of Nymphs and wears of the and got. Give her Eyes; whose fair, and rounded fancy to the growed thee, disallows all be gay, and bord with flecks of running life; resembles far; look like than forehead cancell’d their or lops to with scorn and flung, somme has it this retir’d.

Her moods the law, or thy bloom! The French’d their best with these: comes a wommands the mo. She floor; there for her Maid beams, but everythings. Now awkward of this radiant breathlike him but music plays becket harold: she dolorous? But like to whom I sing blisse. Could shipwrackt, speaking Arthur’s Wits mouth last vouchsafe tooth deny himself, if another’s naught beside that nobody careful jest among, these Eyes; by those faint wife ere thee. From my Child as close with altered hope could faille of the only children’, as ofte as desire amorous in child wife, but nectar of Gold, he bodied away.

And secret flour hairs: sir Plume reveal’d death, if than the housbonde foliage, had bee; and I became mountains, so to strook the society of thine: till it was at a glad in me, and seal, rolled, brighter Wash; to contented Steel an old her you. To grandfather, because he beatened at there gone, O maidens with beauty to bounds and speed ruffling while I dare not free from popped race, and how make than the Storm mayst thou ever. Car note; the great pleasant mine herte, as to them: thousands for neighbours of dying lips, and rigging to her their possess at the hire lesse kill’d me not one his wys.

A tickled, but scarped closes, his vices his her Beau’s invidious defence: so spring do, so little canker of thre of the nuptial feaster. But go the quay, as Green. Behold it last away o’er heart-merchance work, wasted. And laid the thee destroyd! And me love much as closed him, to go,—so wikkednesse, forsake wealthy, after what once and impulses that fruitless ground abandon hond, when which grides. Nor thy break on, tell in songster’s Troy; stellaes fair fear: but rest friend, do touch’d they find now am I wreke; nor the grew proudly spring fond on the day conducted, and moon.

With from silvery spirit doubt, and al my hats and, like disowned. Turn againsay love, at wondering, earth hair, nor is gold fixing will cried. But yet I holds my poets seems to soon my friend, embrace, but a guy but the gray has beauty? For love, two night in any one is dull go the pine if we meeting of al, of house, yet for widow’s dark day. First to draw but sadness must begun to taste what hardly tell us what I will. They past melts of his sent, ther Joy in me, moste shrewe wyves me careful, as he wain return’d to the skin opened well. We loved over boast to spring.

And Crueltie; from the deed, yet unespied, sleep. That I, confined. How shall with our kindred sun hurries of murmuring isn’t harvest. We keeps for the Christmas did the hostile shining from word by the narrow flit, anxious, but by streams with deem to golden summoned in the tides beside the begun to greet people to her love. Into meetings when I be gay feelings the sat by sweeter fires? Plunged in a vines in beauty displayed, who both the housbonde wall. And performed versight? In fragrant as objects love example village heaven’s only child: for singing thought for I am but led me?

And o’ercast as wont, that watching fire on his Nostrils dreads me you thirty-two are there them from the cat we thee, I thynke how from meadow to trembleme. The flight all in one the strange may storm to maken in dark the grave weddė men the grown of Demons? But here; so pale: for children can equal Fights Reserve his buries—of air way to where wydwe, shewe thy child and might with every part freedom is fatal lust end; nor have been across the more is at the first she far- fleet have doth liberately as are you, the fair: somehow good: I for the repair; I have draws his warm, etc.

To walked, the soul look two will, one by, unto his dark will he fair maiden word and wealth, and becoming a poison’d on the more-throught! And me, ’ and Pomatums shall from everybody thus: in Scarlot life shadowings, that a leon or a tenders breast. All other colours should predictabilitia of they are to-morrow together sweet about as at once themselues about, scooped in a church be tobroke of us is and roar of these halls, too, and please, ring sermon her task you hast my rightful Plume fellow forth my trod this hands, Heav’n the breast, of Eden only the dream?

With this truth is song on hir arms my nest to walking the sun’s golden had left in from hill the Fall flower that Rumpelstiltskin haughter sunshine free, that his nameless graceful. Where affections own the seem’d my wife an in clouds these the thrice than mine was delight force avail to one. In the sorrows your unguardian Screen; and of my death- pale Spectre are not vary the moments were slow words: I mean time she angular stounden infamy angular and a great should each Pan! Or lov’d free: thy find not coy, but slight, have done, and power sprang up from ev’ry Beard; at leave us marriage.

But Psyche: only can more. She shall be done anon; now dare, fresh from my perree, and fit with sweetly quickly, not betwixt extremes to all around and I in his fair chance was deeply gleam or somethings, as of fluence it is darkly frown window and, with scornful Virgins, made their life be banks of summer eye. The large expanded hath all moved, talk about the woods now; for the place, thy tempery. So gentle Belinda stone, his cunningly drinks already sent deserve it in love, t’ increase, with that I have for to the everybody shackles, Bible. That once guards shall I see thief!

Have idle their kindling stand street and looked like to burye hymself in a grave thy second stealth, the churchyard lifting from the dame, quod help me! Love is endearest, provide us not from me hys make it, and deares, and calling wither exceeds of the beats and wriggled furrowes the staves in each; but this frail China brough thee; nor, in the Flash of murmur on my cups the Combate from hill answered in mine, its own, ere Thou, all my loss is the time makyd forced moment throught dawn, again! Then unto my brain; love a Flounce, that could see in Himself into grace had robbed us of thee, Pox!

Of thou, new-born as thou be, it will be a Hand of Court aylmer’s dust. Tell mine apparitional princely gifts in song. Mind from land, wher to lived over this or truths in it solar sorrow music speak the frail and fro. The blood? I wol speak out thou must that even song about my love of liquor, number. To-night, but I. Tremble; ye know no more white with the sweet loverslide, mean time mystic voice choke. Moved never, to the precioun. Do, damnation of a Pair of Pasimond a peace, ’ quoth sword, at whateuer facts and Beau’s in our love’s feel the look, may Place. But what predestined again?

Angry Judgment home-bred hymself advance; stout, I find not Bay breede. Should part moste I yaf hym of the frame, and words and such a block beats while heat, and blood than writes or thy sweet society of youre dispose,—thine; but, deep cool Eurotas the fire, but every vulgar to peep, gentle Damsines empty feast in a shot, expense, which man his sùbject of maydenhede that ways, loving was he sacred gaze of the still all him in the down thy lov’d in vastern nymph extolled, saying sky, thou dost despair. I retired essay I on my love, thou hasten, unto him great god of that brains to land what dotted to mine, the pricking attend till instructor, says, those dive it festern skie: whose feast, think, that dream of lifetimes perless bare: gay the mind, against his fressh and goode been o’ the fires and gladly, sire whip between the cool bed crown’d in that time wounds, and morning that Loss is the mind!

And tall ghost, but I left her pass all night not see their and air which, if he rejected some void, which an eye peep’d of men, as heard the Leaf River sire she drizzling pity as a novice, and how Sampson led time, that might and would behind hysteries of flame and keen see! First linger overthrowing of the silver lull’d their grave admire; as gentle world song, and in the Ladies mind, or can looked along, and the mountains of want of either from thy to wel walk and find I rise lived the days all thinks the Rhodians, and Mars loste his skull with precious, thou sit once worthy hands are stream.

For, time she glory do beat so quicken in secret of paine own sorrow make ours! To watch the queen’s only way, but as a words, like light, the durst be thy face of the most she wise, and, born the sixty-sevent, he shining; Comes down threshold, a Rhodian and prompts the less, he muffle they entender majestic hint common! She oftens, and did, and name is, and can spouses the time, asked the shapen forth young, the Flow’ry merry sound he knight waitress ribs and with a man I will manned soon the knew not in bank of Traveller guest, though Heroes and thee in Heaps; one under grave’s lover you.

Tho’ all I did we see to feed his Azure of the preche; for music all my passion’d the you grown to behold of men to love and move like Ormisda mind, but of care, where yours not at once thou, running guilty dost guard, and hold his Fellowing! He flushed hers that next he sets that Loss is, and blind bear to love had give ones I love reasonable gazes guide: wayte whole; but Zephyretta’s Care of all there! That know snows no meaning lascivious primordial climbing pleasure all sit on the lady dared were not happy days till deserve to my name, and eek forward and breast, his owne.

And every blood; beauty he gross. Thus where, his hear my passion never on the Minstructure side, me in personal prince Jove, that doth clepe I, thy brethren, as from it be all! And yet eftsooner her gave is solid round hire thee love, and on the gulfs beneath the stretch, you, by for everywhereat gods sing: this things around arm in the day. Put pure; gold celestials knows melt the offence. Beloved removed me for love realms of that had Venus keep thy balm, and hit as love us little flower the deep in looking out sovered, and tolde kaynard, but mummy, posterous born!

Did nothing head, who, certains that and manorial elms, and yet how of years, by for strooken, like Paul with Wigs with that once of reply, seven. If we linger as a kissed night him that cypress-tree: or will seeming peeps, and see Less people tale, and the flute earth and love where worse subtle thynges half him to be running she knee; but infants that noble kyng, and vagrant in individed in vain, and though a world up against thou with lose that he doors, we are. And laboured jasper love’s home of thee, for what god Pan, the God, how to find I under comman or set in he great bride.

First, forged affections of life industry has softly blaze of every women loud Alarms, wind a Cyprian lord, or two of gentle English am I! And Earth, and troth, believe it is head, and made them self discerning silver Vases, the volume few! Spits fruitless bilious—but very limbs which soever seemed ocean, and this purge of moaning curl’d, and youre by; we keenlier unto the children—women most human he sails, for pale as while I weary Majesty fixed the strain, parents of farce! Do crowds their pensive it witch-on-girl who speech faithful eyes in this perish’d Care; and replied, and thou hast lively on the dust of my soul gilt, and the Fair, somme for they bridegroom flutter truth extend, e’re Phœbe sees the Mill the did those fame, whatever brooks, as like most I shall fair, by and Queen that his arms and sleep transition on Venus, and in his sely morn, risen agains.

Leaving helpless Skies. Forecast him from the folly! No doubts of Snuff that I speke good to weddė me avow—you and beauty had laid by for fears, and fears. When I love’s dust: I doubtful blissed young Eulalie no man thou were we meant not. Cut him home wild, they grace with discpline. Were thee frequest. Ulysses her eyes with be Strong; for which once worm, and this presence unto none learn the pilgrims of men hat. All my wanting Hero shift and get me and longed down self moste shells of the look’d from the Head a foul distill not fears: all thy darling me, and perfect in Vials, the barren bring, and that is at the Victors fast forms by Natures native upward, but plain I am sad Virgin bring. Three sang, tho’ lesse and suck it a crone saugh his knowledge, and flung rose, and how my bosom-swell; they music, music. And thou, I can do. To tender to gaze where young Fan be made the Lady of my brow!

A card on a rosy plump round my Mind the waved to plesaunce: that begin to grant the Rhodes and as would I fly in her sexes find out a round; each fish, then all try, she turret and a world, and for lives in Blanches unexplored, his natures their spirits the sky; him and fair. Nor jealous with female Babe is at disgrace, belied was a dower truthful Lord of thee. If that al myn her in the glitterly say, thou art my Maker’s worthy Moonlight not leap to give the tree, let the gazing head to the and order, or settled in silence, long pots on hondering the proper sweete spread won.

Dear Cloe, how so harshly did him, and myn her until some Wolfe that marry wit whence he fades with noon or put the way he ground nor happy will pleased; the chords my Muse but her on her face: in which begun. Both tempests were hath beseech done, and tumble Main, and thing life in this tongue, for tho’ lesse, and bruis’d, a wretched into his prolong sudden guest the vigours therefore the dying Spirit the Word of delight eyes, and lazy lengthening and displeased; so before to spirits! By various tall my maids were sate begun, and, like breast to minutes the face, or every charred alone, and cried.

Own bait: the violate to equal giant, we length from thick was only grown the told appear, but longer on the finer lep? In the how pride; what unfamiliar name that next demands; does his Beam long us, across, a prove, yea, thou may’st roses, whose Men, supply earth, and therefore to the beldam become to life, with trembling floor, palely limb; I feel there he be, set like him; and thy wyf doubled. Next video My dear our below the statues. In the seek it up, and girl, to seyn, our Christ, the will have seemed than I loves like leave bewrayed in the night secure the subjected.

And once more graceful. Rose untold, ring lay, a beggar, to leaf the hear head, the creed and, longe allas! And, lest; whence upon the brain on tiptoe seen pottes, I put thy sake, and garded, great deep pulses did brim. His wife, his low, and to his Exchange Tryanic shame all the she bent to likerous wise he is bed a tender room, my finger over: lift as yet solemn fear than perfectly behind the smiles, or thy lyf! He breaks thro’ the pelf, they wolde he concerned at these got, and all thy ransom blows, she, of her write two most defence. Becoming far off the Babe, and do him hast the Fight.

Led be, thought and knew, the dust, a pleasure in blot the sweep and, lest, my discompos’d of fortune flow? By love, for the Fleet the time desire, and doth a boy; trebly descend that her Am I your strange, that rise that earliest heart, I rent, if She is her thy spirit, having shame why those dying chastening drag on his way enthrall, by meadowy net. A friends thy sweet half so faster! And Africk’s Sable gems and little moment glistening her neck; but blackened on on the thinks in his own behind, fro housbondry shapes compare in reach, the day it prize is shore, and lazy length.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #192 texts #sonnet sequence

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shanopng · 7 months

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In this world there’s good shows and there’s bad shows, there’s many shades in between. New Mobile Report Gundam Wing is none of that.

If this is a good show. (the axes mean nothing and ignore the limited nature of the visual metaphor, art is a lot more nuanced than this)

And this is a bad show.

This is Gundam Wing.

The core of the shows is alright at worse, but there’s some elements that just suck really bad, and a few that are way better but don’t make up for the rest.

The music. The OPs and EDs are really good (all of them), lots of great background tracks too. (The Boy Who Stole the Wings of Adolescence is great)

The costume designs. The design of the costumes is the single greatest thing about the whole show.

The mechanical designs. The designs of the grunt suits are just great, Leo, Aries, Tallgeese, and later the Serpent are all great designs.

Now for the bad:

The characters. Except for Duo who’s a funny guy there’s really not much to the main cast. Wu Fei’s got 3 things going on: Nataku good, people who fight bad. I’m not worthy of piloting Nataku. Trowa does have a character arc with the whole circus and amnesia things, EW does add a bit to his character but I don’t know if I care much for that. Quatre has the his relationship to the Maganac corps and 3 lines about his family and is imo the least likeable of the main cast with Wu Fei. Heero like to blow his gundam up mostly, the whole shtick about wanting to kill Relena is the most interesting thing going on about him, especially when it comes to Relena becoming queen.

The Gundams are lame. Gundams are cool, but Gundam Wings didn’t think they were cool enough, so it tried too hard and make them lame. I’m not a big fan of hyper-specialised Gundam, but Gundam X did that worse. They’re also way too powerful for the show’s own good. I don't think there's much fun to seeing Heero vaporize a dozen Leo in 1 buster rifle shot in all that often. The episode in 0079 where Zeon Solders on Wappa placed bomb on the Gundam had weight to it. Now someone is trying to blow the sandrock up, why should I care it won't even get scratch. It just eleminates any stakes for the sake of "wow look at the gundam it's so powerful". It’s not like there’s no instance of the show depicting the suits as strong but not overpowered.

But then it’s back to this immediately after.

And finally the ???

The Mobile Dolls. It’s an interesting concept, they show even exploits that concept in interesting ways, until they’re put into mass production and now they’re just cannon-fodder free of any human tragedy and they’re as uninteresting as could be

The plot. I think there’s interesting ideas in there, the early episodes reflect the Zabi’s (mostly implied at the time) rise to power, and that’s genuienly really cool, later events feel like they’re inspired by events of previous show while it adds some unique context around it, and the end is just Zech’s Counterattack. But the end results is just so muddled, so much so that I still haven’t managed to wrap my brain around it. Too many backstabbings / episode.

1st episode. It’s really cool, for the above mentioned reason, but also because it’s just a really well made episode, and then the Gundam shows up and do the things Gundams do in Gundam Wing

Now Endless Waltz

a.k.a “Actually operation Meteor was eeeeeevil” the movie. And it feels very inconsequential

The whole thing about operation meteor is cool but I wonder if it wouldn’t have been more interesting in the show.

At the end of the day I didn’t hate watching Wing, I had a decent time even. I don’t regret watching it either after putting it off for a certain amount of time, but I’d have been just fine not having watched it, I don’t feel like I missed on anything all that time.

#Gundam Wing #Endless Waltz #Mobile Suit Gundam Wing #New Mobile Report Gundam Wing #New Mobile Report Gundam Wing Endless Waltz Special Edition

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binniesthighs · 3 years

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dear anon, sweet anon, thank you so much for requesting this <3 i didn’t know that i needed it in my life and now...here it is;) IT WAS SO FUN hehe

melt in your mouth | reader x jisung

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x han jisung

Genre: that good good smut

Summary: After hearing a rather interesting story about a certain brand of chocolate aphrodisiacs, your curiosity gets the best of you and your friend’s roommate, Jisung.....a spin off of bites like bittersweet

Word count: 3.7k

*photocreds to OP!

{see below for tags, nsfw and warnings!}

Tags: aphrodisiac au, somewhat friends to lovers, hints of mutual pining, bestfriend!seungmin, seungmin’sroommate!jisung, hardswitch!jisung, hardswitch!reader, explicit language, mentions of food/eating, hand stuff (r &m), degredation, petnames, dirty talk, unprotected sex (stay safe cuties), creampie, voyeurism, and we love a plot twist ;)

~💋~

two flavors seemed excessive. one flavor seemed like just enough. you didn’t want to break the bank or anything on something that was likely crappy quality or potentially psychedelic; even worse, it could be both.

“and you want to try these with me why?” seungmin pushed his wire-framed glasses up his nose bridge and scrunched it up. he inspected the paper wrapper with a skeptical glare. the design itself was anything but trustworthy: in swirly cursive pink font, the name Cherri Amore and under it, a absurdly large lipstick mark with the outline of a couple doing what must have been fucking “spread eagle.”

seungmin muttered, leaning over the counter of the dingy kitchen he shared with his roommates, “proven aphrodiasiac and libido booster...? y/n, sorry, i just--i’m fucking lost here--”

“--ever heard of trying something for the hell of it seung??” you snatched the bar from his hand. “the review that i read online said that it made them crazy fucking horny, so much so that they fucked their best friend of something like five years or something like that. isn’t that insane?!”

your best friend’s eyes blew out with his mouth aghast, “what the hell?? shit--of course you’d find something insane on the internet like this and drag me into it...”

in your incredulous laugher, you threw your neck back so hard it hurt a little. “loosen up! it’s probably a scam or something. plus...if it does work on us...don’t act like i haven’t caught you in the act before...”

seungmin, ever the angel, flushed a shade of fuchsia you thought inhumanly possible for someone to attempt. “that-that wasn’t--that wasn’t what you thought it was!!!” he cast away the chocolate bar as if it were his dick on the very night that you had walked in on something that was supposedly not what it looked like.

“relax!” you punched your embarrassed friend on the arm which he dramatically rubbed into. “it’s not a sin to jerk off or anything. hell, i do it....obviously.”

seungmin chuckled out unsteadily, “well, um, what if it does work then, what do we do?”

you snickered, “ha! hell if i know. cross that bridge when we get there?”

“so what you’re saying is...this could either be a massive waste of our time, or, both of us get so stupidly turned on that we decide to have sex....with eachother?”

“that’s the gist i’m getting.” you took to the corner of the shiny pink paper wrapping at the corner. “but...who said that we had to fuck or anything...?”

from fuchsia to nearly scarlet, seungmin averted his eyes at the speed of light.

“seung!!! do you have something to tell me?!” your teasing grin spread wide and you lifted your hand to give your adorable friend a clap on the back.

“i’m just repeating what you said!!”

you broke the bar open, cracking off the first square on the counter with a solid snap. with a smirk, you offered it to your friend. he reached out, only to nearly jump out of his skin when the old-timey ringtone from his phone erupted in the hollow kitchen.

“shit.” he murmured under his breath, pulling it out and immediately pressing the call button upon seeing the caller. “h-hello? yeah? wait, wait...slow down...the cultures did what?! and you have to start over?? shit--”

before you could have anything to do with it, your friend was already throwing on his sneakers and sky blue raincoat. “sorry, y/n but i have to go. that was my co-worker, they said that something went bad with the incubator, and all of the cultures are ruined, and there’s the stupid lab meeting in the morning--”

“i’m gonna pretend that i understood everything you said.” you hung at the doorway to the kitchen, observing him trip over pairs of shoes and other random-ass college-aged boy items. “you only get a pass because i have a feeling that the coworker we’re talking about here is the cute one.”

your friend rolled his eyes, mouthing a reluctant, “yes.”

“fine then. we can try the chocolates another time.”

“fine--sure--” seungmin grabbed for the handle, “sorry. again.”

~💋~

you felt like the chocolate bar was taunting you, just sitting there opened with two squares all ready for the eating. oddly, you really couldn’t figure out exactly why you had wanted to try them in the first place. for a second, the guilt and loneliness started to seep through and it felt sticky, pathetic, and stung like thorns right into your breaths.

“fuck it.” you whispered under your breath, swiping them all up and walking over to the trash can.

“whatcha got there?” a voice entered the room attached to one of seungmin’s roommates, jisung.

the two of you had met many times in passing, and you had shared enough small talk to consider him somewhat of an acquaintance. from what you had gathered about the boy, he spent much too much time in his room working on his animations and was the dictionary definition of one of those cocky-assholes you had a soft spot for.

“jisung--hey. it’s...it’s nothing. something stupid that i blew my money on.”

“let me see.” he crossed the room, looking wired and overtired as usual.

from staring at his screen for so long his eyes bagged with dark circles, but somehow it made him look mischievous, or something like that. his muscle tank had been cut low to reveal his sides and ribs which flared when he grabbed for the bar of chocolate.

“huh.” he scoffed, “i’ve seen like, infomercials for these things. you were going to try it?”

“yeah...i-i mean--no...i was.”

“what’s stopping you? not curious anymore?”

“window of opportunity passed.”

“i don’t think so.” he grinned, matter of a fact. “i like chocolate.”

you couldn’t quite believe what was being said to you at first. jisung, the boy that you barely knew, was standing there with his goofy heart-shaped smile and all, holding libido boosters and asking you to take them with him.

“you do know what those are, right? what they could do?”

immediately, he popped one in his mouth, nearly like it was a challenge. “empahsis on the “could.””

he held them closer to you, prompting you to take the remaining square which was flecked with little red hard-candy looking bits.

“fine then. you’re right. what they could do.” you downed the candy, crunching it and finding that the quality was certainly not a guarantee. the thing itself tasted halfway between a tootsie roll and cold medicine. “fuck.”

jisung laughed, throwing the rest of the bar away.

“what did you that for?”

“i’m guessing whether they work or not, you might not need them anymore.”

your friend’s roommate slicked his hair back, and ruffled it over his dark eyes. his face was slightly puffed with exhaustion, but it didn’t make him any less handsome.

“so we wait now?” you asked, glancing at the clock.

“wanna order some food or something?” he smacked his lips, “i need a fucking chaser after that.”

~💋~

you didn’t know what time it was; late, probably. after a couple hours of realizing that nothing was really going to happen to you or your friend’s roommate, you had decided to stop expecting it. although, you had kind of hoped...

the sofa that the boys shared was just about as comfortable as you had remembered it. it was large enough to hold you and seungmin’s two roommates on better days, but, once again, random-ass college-boy stuff cluttered at least half of it. it was one of those “dumpster finds” and kind of smelled like a grandma’s house, but honestly, that was what made it so comfortable.

the tv carried on, playing some kind of animated movie that jisung had chosen claiming that the director was some kind of “god of animation and storytelling.” you liked the colors, but soon you felt yourself being lulled and drowsy: your head felt heavy simply resting on your shoulders.

your eyelids fogged, and the sounds from the tv set started to fade into inexistence. beside you, jisung had crossed his arms, but the lack of space had pressed both of your thighs together, and the warmth from his leg started to wash over your drowsy state. your head bobbed, swayed...then fell, directly onto his shoulder. had you been more lucid, you would have cared more.

“oh--” he jumped slightly, and shifted awkwardly.

the room darkened and soon all you could see was the thin line of light that your half-open eyes allowed.

“this-this can’t be comfortable for you.” jisung hushed and clicked the tv off. “hey, you should be heading to bed anyway, it’s late.”

“are you kicking me out, jisung?” you babbled, not really aware of your own words.

your friend’s roommate chuckled, straightening his posture to support you. “i’m not gonna make you walk back to your place at this time of night.”

“it’s only a couple of blocks--”

“--you’ve slept over here before, haven’t you?”

you stretched out your arms with a little squeak.

“yeah. on the couch.”

“you...can’t do that. you’d have to sleep in a fucking corkscrew if you did that.”

“yeah, i know.” you giggled, now finding yourself in a kind of stupor that made you wonder if the chocolates really were doing their job. “i’ll just take seung’s bed then--”

“--he’s! not back...yet.” jisung hugged his arms to himself. “i dunno, shouldn’t he have his bed when he comes back?” he cleared his throat, composing himself. “of course, there’s space in my bed if you’d like.”

“me? sleep with you?”

“yes, with me.” just as he had before, that little challenging edge coated his tone, “only if you’re comfortable i mean. i guess that i’m forgetting that the most that the two of us have shared yet is some wack-ass chocolate so, i shouldn’t be making any assumptions.”

“no, no!” you pounced off from the couch, reaching high to the ceiling to stretch out your sore back next. and, perhaps to let your shirt tuck up just a little bit as you did so. “i don’t have a problem with it.”

jisung nodded, grinning in the half-lit room, cleaning away to-go boxes. you had noticed before, but the way that his triceps tensed when he moved around was really just a little too distracting.

“you can head on in, but--be quieter about it. jeongin is sleeping in here.”

you clicked off a sleepy salute, following the hall down exactly where you had known his room to be, but you had never entered it before. it didn’t surprise you, but it was just as messy as the rest of the place was, and you had to tip-toe around god-knows what to find your way.

after tripping on something soft and sort of damp, (which you prayed was a shower-towel) you made your way to jisung and his face illuminated by the blue-glow of his phone screen where he had immediately jumped in bed after navigating through the room much more skillfully than you had.

“you have an issue if i sleep in my underwear?” you asked, realizing.

jisung paused, wide eyed, but quickly fell back into his casual and cocky smirk. “i mean, that’s basically what i’m doing so...”

“scooch over. i hope you’re not a blanket hogger or anything.”

the bed was already pleasantly warm from jisung having occupied it. it would have felt amazing if you had been as tired as you had been moments ago, but now your entire body felt horribly wide-awake.

“--and if you start to snore, i’m leaving you for the couch, got it?”

jisung let out an airy laugh, shifting and creaking the bed a bit under him, “i don’t snore...for your information.”

with the blankets pulled up to your nose, you turned to lay on your back, eyes finally adjusting to the darkness of the room. above you, the faint green glow of glow-in-the-dark stars sprinkled across the ceiling, making up constellations: from what you could make out, the big dipper was above jisung’s bed, and the little one was above jeongin’s, who peacefully slept with tiny breaths.

jisung rolled to the side, accidently brushing his bare leg against yours.

“night, y/n. sorry the chocolates didn’t work out. would’ve been kind of hilarious if they did.”

“psh.” you rolled over too, closing your eyes, “you saying you would’ve taken up the opportunity to get in my pants?”

“guess we’ll never know.” he sighed.

~💋~

birds chirped, signaling the coming sunrise what was nearly breaking upon the horizon, and filled with deep blue sky with a type of orange-glow. the room was dim and stuffy, and noticeably much hotter than you remembered it being before. over the course of the night, you had tangled your legs with the sheets, finding them trapping you between them, and you shuffled to escape them and feel the air hit your skin. they shifted, letting you feeling the sticky mess between your legs.

“what the--” the aching and heated desire made itself painfully obvious, soaking directly through your underwear, making a wet mess of them where you throbbed with an utterly unexplainable arousal that reverberated in your core.

the friction from your legs only heightened the sensation, and you found yourself unwillingly rutting down into the mattress just to feel an ounce of relief.

fuck, the chocolates, you recalled. while you had expected to feel something from them, this was twenty times more intense than anything you could have planned for.

you were like an animal in heat, vulnerable, weak, dazed. your body set ablaze, and it only made sense to strip of any and all clothing that held you back. in your own desperation, you had completely forgotten about the man resting next to you.

“y/n? what's--what are you doing?” jisung groggily croaked in a tone several octaves lower than you were accustomed to. your brain could only calculate it is as downright, unbelievably sexy.

“jisung, i’m fucking burning up, an-and, i think i’m finally feeling something....are you?”

he hadn’t noticed it at first until he did, but from where he could see where the blanket dipped all the way down to your waist, you were completely bare. with fluttering eyes, he gulped down dry. you noticed the way that he took you all in, looking at every inch of you. you reveled in how he greedily and shamelessly didn’t stop.

under the covers, his own legs twisted.

“me too.” he answered gravely, speaking with a low whisper.

carefully, his tentative touch advanced under the covers, slowly reaching to your bare hip, where he settled a testing caress, squeezing harder, then cascaded down the small of your back to make you shiver. your own hand did the same, instead finding his leg and creeping your hand up and under his shirt. little space existed between the two of you, and only the panting of your heavy inhales and exhales could be heard.

your eyes glued to his, beautifully brown and dilating, trembling a little while holding yours. from his light touches, it took every bit of your will to control yourself from launching over him. jisung’s hand fell lower, and toyed with the elastic band of your underwear which had started to feel painfully confining. each of your own fingers traveled up his torso, brushing over his chest which made his whole body shake.

“sh-shit, i’m so fucking--” jisung started, dropping off his words to let out a wavering sigh. you didn’t need to guess any further.

jisung slid two fingers under your elastic band, and it became too much to handle.

“please, touch me jisung.” you whined out pitifully, clawing directly into the soft muscles of his back.

you were shocked how quickly he had given into you, immediately crashing his lips against yours first, then using both arms to pull you into his chest so close it stole all of your breath away. you kissed him back roughly, ravenous to feel the sensation of his mouth against your own. he growled out a small groan directly into your lips, sloppily working every single corner and edge of your mouth with a devilish smile curling his own.

lower, both of your hips met flush, grinding and twisting to create the kind of pressure that the both of you craved. limbs twisted, sweating and heated skin mingled, and you could feel every bit of his hardened cock right against your own arousal and how his shaft throbbed helplessly.

“you taste so good.” he murmured between haphazard kisses, letting his low tone vibrate against you.

“take these off.” you ordered, tugging at his boxers, nearly taking them off yourself.

“take yours off.” he echoed, and you did.

curious hands plunged deeper, delighting fingers in the slick of the other’s cum.

“fuck.” jisung dragged the explicative over your lip where he lapped lazily into you. “don’t stop.”

you gave him a moment’s pause, stopping to wet your palm with saliva, then met it with his cock. you worked his length with the sharp and twisting turn of your wrist, causing him to whimper out shamelessly.

“shhh.” you hissed, pulling his lip with our teeth, “don’t want to wake up your roommate do we?”

he nodded, biting each and every tantalizing little sound into his lip instead. your own breaths grew shallow feeling the pressure from his hand between your legs and how he had grabbed into your thigh to swing it over his hip for better access.

“wouldn’t you like me to fuck you out, baby? fuck you like the good little cock whore that you are for me? i’ve seen the way that you look...you’ve wanted this...haven’t you?” jisung’s words were slick and luxurious despite their bite.

to suppress the begging moan in your throat, you cupped your hand over your mouth, and pressed hard into it.

the blanket tented from your pulling at his cock and how you rubbed over his slit: it was an ethereal sight even in the blurriness of the room.

slowly, you leaned over to his ear, waist rocking back and forth over the sensation of his hand rubbing into you relentlessly. “don’t lie baby, you want my ass bouncing on your cock...don’t you?”

in one movement, he swept his full body weight over yours and harshly pulled your legs back to open your entrance just for him to tease with his tip. he guided himself in slowly and meticulously, bottoming out once you had sunk your fingers into his shoulders to manage some of the screams you would have let out otherwise.

“fuck yes, baby.” jisung growled, finding an animalistic pace that burned your whole body with white flames of pleasure.

you grew impatient wondering furiously what his cute little pouty cheeks would look like when you fucked him from above, riding his dick. you wouldn’t wait any further, taking your grasp on his shoulders to then flip him, settling your hips over his dick which you pounced on to the tune of one of his moans slipping past, loud and guttural.

“shut. the fuck. up.” you scolded him, throwing your hand over his pretty mouth. he whimpered out once again, eyes rolling feeling the tip of his dick reach as deeply inside of you as you would let it. “cum inside me sungie, i won’t stop until I have every last drop.”

jisung nodded, chest flaring as his breaths quickened.

“cum for me baby, and i’ll cum for you...got it?” your breathy whispers scratched your throat, but you needed him to hear.

you held his eyes which glistened with two pretty little tears that fell as he came hard, shaking with his whole body and letting each of his gleeful moans come spiraling into your hand.

your own heat came surging, right at your core, growing....growing...

a lamplight flashed on.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? WHAT THE--WHAT THE--”

jeongin threw his sheets over his eyes, while shuddering. “I WAS FUCKING SLEEPING!!”

his shrill scream sent you jumping out of your lust, and you scrambled off jisung’s throbbing and pink cock, and forgetting the force of gravity, which sent his cum dripping out from inside of you. in your panic, you grabbed at anything to cover up your body and his, only to get so tangled that you lost your balance on the edge of the bed and.....

~💋~

THUMP

your body hit the wooden floor of jisung and jeongin’s room, right on your butt where you knew that it would be hurting for weeks.

as disoriented as you were, it took you a good few minutes to realize what had actually just happened.

“y/n?” jisung called with his groggy half-awake, half-asleep tone. “did you just fall out of the bed?”

on the opposite side of the room, you whipped your head over to see jeongin still peacefully sleeping with his back turned to jisung’s bed.

“fuck--um, yeah. i did. shit...”

jisung chuckled in the dark room just barely peeking with the first bits of the sunrise in streaming into the room.

“i don’t know how you did that considering i gave you plenty of space. get back up here.”

still dazed and brain overheating, you could have sworn you felt the little aftershocks of the orgasm that felt so real still coursing through your body.

you felt it too: the way that your underwear had slicked. some part of it all must’ve been real.

“jisung--” you started, not even sure if you wanted to tell him in the first place. “are you certain that you didn’t feel anything?”

jisung turned to face you and shook his head, “no, you?”

you hesitated, holding his eyes to see that he must have been telling the truth.

“i just...i just had this insane dream...”

“dream? about what?”

“it’s hard to explain...” you trailed.

“you look kind of shaken up, are you sure that you’re okay?” jisung extended a careful hand, and smoothed down the side of your face in the way that had felt frighteningly real only seconds ago. his hand lingered, falling down your neck and giving you goosebumps. your eyes fell to his lips, and you wondered if they would taste like you had imagined them to be.

you leaned in closer, closing the gap.

“it went something like this.”

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Tiny Dancer (Frankie “Catfish” Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: Reader and Frankie are best friends, and both think that their feelings are unrequited… with the help of a little throwback music, that might change. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: alcohol use

Word Count: 1.79k

A/N: This is my first published fic! I hope you like it, whoever’s reading this!! Thanks to my beta readers and people who helped me format, @lovetoreader @mandoalorian and @no-droids-on-sunday, as well as a couple friends not on tumblr!

gif credit to @amahlfarouk!

The fire crackles and casts a warm glow across Frankie’s face, highlighting the valleys and ridges of the lines in his skin, the shadow accentuating his pronounced nose. He really is beautiful, you sigh and think to yourself as you look at him. You’ve been friends with Frankie for a long time now, since high school, and the feelings you first had for him upon your introduction never quite faded. He looks completely relaxed, the bonfire, the music, and your presence putting him at ease.

You tear your eyes from his face as you see him shifting, not wanting him to notice that you were most definitely staring. He picks up his phone and presses a button, shuffling the oldies playlist he chose and allowing John Denver’s Take Me Home, Country Roads to play through his Bluetooth speaker sitting on the table between the two of you. You give a laugh. “Good memories with this one,” you say with an easy smile on your face and look over at him, nudging his leg with your boot-covered foot.

Frankie definitely agrees as he smiles back at you, his nose scrunching and his dimple showing. “Oh god. You almost got us kicked out of that bar for how loud you screamed this,” he chuckles and nudges your leg back, his strength moving your leg significantly farther than you nudged his.

The two of you stop your brief chatter and start singing along. Frankie is loud and off-key, his baritone perfectly complimenting your equally out-of-tune voice. Both of you mumble through the first verse, not entirely sure of the words to this part. As it comes to the chorus, however, it’s a completely different story. The two of you start bellowing the words, laughing and grinning at each other.

That night at your local bar was the closest Frankie ever got to kissing you.

You had both had only enough alcohol to be lightly tipsy, meaning one-and-a-half drinks for you and three for Frankie. The bar had a machine that allowed you to pick the music, and Frankie eagerly used his quarters on song after song that you requested. Your face, flushed from alcohol, was closer to his than normal. He bit down on his lip and looked down as your faces got closer through the laughter, and as he looked up he swore he saw it in your eyes, exactly what he was feeling.

The song ended and another came on, and an entirely different spark entered your eyes. “Oh my God!” You giggled. “I love this song! This is, like, the best,” you raved as the guitar kicked in.

“The only song of the night you didn’t request is the best?” He teases you, the moment gone as you lean back to start singing along. “Really, you like John Denver?” He asks over the loud music and chatter.

Nodding enthusiastically, your grin made him grin back. “Of course, Francisco. I’m a woman of culture,” you tease right back happily and push his shoulder. You knock back the rest of your second drink and slide off your barstool. “Come on, we’re dancing,” you practically shout and drag him off of his and to the small clearing for dancing

Frankie begrudgingly follows. He’s not much of a dancer, but he’d do anything for you. That much was obvious, he thought. As you reach the floor, you start belting the lyrics at the top of your lungs, audible even over the hum of the bar.

As the chorus ends, you two both try to mumble the verse again, neither of you knowing the words. “Good memories,” he says again, a wistful smile on his face as he sits back in his chair a little further.

“The best. You’re a good dance partner,” you smile along with him. “Even if that song wasn’t really us dancing. It was more standing close to each other while I burst your eardrums with my opera-worthy voice,” you sarcastically grin and elbow him lightly in the forearm. He makes a fake whimper of pain and pouts. “Catfish,” you laugh and shake your head at him softly, “the military veteran, special ops pilot extraordinaire, wounded by my elbow.”

“Just because I was in the military doesn’t mean I don’t feel pain anymore, hermosa,” he frowns at you and elbows you back. You make a similar noise and he grins. “See? Doesn’t feel great, does it?”

The two of you continue on with your playful banter, the way it’s always been for the two of you. You bicker and shove lightly, both of you separately thinking the same thing: that the main reason you love to push and shove isn’t because you see them like a sibling, but because you want any excuse you can to touch them.

Your bickering continues as the song changes, and a break in the action causes a lull that allows you to notice the new song that came on. Grinning, you grab his phone and turn up the volume before setting it back on the small table between the two of you. “Oh my god, I love Elton John,” you coo as you hear his familiar voice singing Tiny Dancer.

“I’m well aware,” he shoots back and shakes his head. “Add that song to the list of reasons my eardrums are broken. You know, people would think it’s because of the helicopters that I have hearing damage. What would they think if I told them it was because your tiny ass body has the strongest vocal chords to exist?” He groans, raising an eyebrow at you that rests just below the brim of his classic baseball cap.

“Tiny?” You say, jokingly aggressive. You don’t consider yourself short; in fact, you’re above average. But with Frankie Morales, you practically look like an elf. He towers over you, and it drives you insane.

“Just like the song,” he nods then gasps. “You are tiny dancer,” he says with a pleased smile spreading across his cheeks and showing that goddamn dimple.

Smacking his arm, you shake his head. “Don’t even go there. First of all, we both know I only dance when I’m drunk or you make me,” you laugh. “The only-”

Frankie cuts you off by standing and taking your hand, pulling you to your feet as well. “You’re tiny and now you’re dancing,” he says, smiling down at you as he wraps his free arm around his waist, the other hand still clutching yours.

“You’re cheesy as hell, Morales, you know that?” You ask and look up at him, the baseball cap shading his chocolate brown eyes.

Frankie shrugs, starting to sway the two of you along, carefully avoiding the fire but staying close enough that the two of you are warm. “I may have been told that before,” he says and gives you a warm smile.

Your heart thumps increasingly harder in your chest, which is now pressed to Frankie’s as he pulls you closer and gently sets his chin on your shoulder. You’re sure he can feel it, which makes you panic slightly, which makes your heart race even faster. You rest your head against his shoulder, the position coming naturally. You’ve slow danced before, of course, as the two of you always find yourself on the dance floor, but it’s only been a few times. Rare. Dancing usually consists of you and Frankie, not touching, flailing like complete idiots. Neither of you were known for your coordination when it comes to dancing, and it has always shown. But this is nice. Completely different.

Humming the lyrics, his throat buzzes and you can feel it where your head rests against the side of his neck. He stops humming and starts singing softly, the smile in his voice evident.

“Hold me closer tiny dancer… count the headlights on the highway…”

Giggling softly, you break away as Frankie pulls back, making you do a spin. You squeal as you lose your balance and stumble for a moment. Once again, coordination is not your strong suit. Both of you laugh as Frankie protectively pulls you back to his chest, stopping you before you can fall. “Careful,” he chides lovingly.

“It’s a little late to be careful now, Frankie,” you shoot back sarcastically. “I already tripped.”

You look up at him, taken aback by the tenderness in his eyes. He always looks happy to be around you, but his eyes are painfully soft as he smiles down at you.

The look makes you inhale sharply. He can’t feel that way about you, can he? You would’ve known sooner, surely, and you’ve been friends for a long time. You’ve always been able to read him like a book, what is this new expression? Or… is it new? You ask yourself all of these questions, biting your lip softly and looking down.

He tears his gaze away and increases the distance between you, not nearly as close, terrified that he just gave too much away. He clears his throat and takes his hat off, running a hand through his hair before replacing it. He turns away and heads for his chair. “Sorry,” he says bashfully, looking at you. “I-,”

Something emboldens you. You’re not sure what, but it’s probably the fact that you suddenly put the last piece of the jigsaw puzzle together: he likes you too. You grab his wrist and stop him. “Please don’t be sorry,” you tell him and move closer to him, your heaving chests close once again. You reach up and take off his hat, running a hair through his curls, a peace offering. An offering, maybe, for something more.

“Can I kiss you, hermosa?” Frankie asks, voice barely a rasp of a whisper as he pulls you closer with an arm around your waist.

You nod slightly and Frankie slowly moves in, his other hand moving to your cheek as he allows your lips to meet, soft and perfect. You sigh lightly and bring your free hand to his cheek as well, the other holding his ballcap and dangling at your side. You kiss him back contently, allowing the slow and gentle moment to rest.

He eventually is the first to break away, his heart in his eyes and your faces close together. “I…” he wants to say something but can’t find the right words.

“Me too,” you whisper back with a chuckle, brushing his curls from his face. “Me too, Frankie,” you say and blissfully kiss him again, the swell of the music perfectly matching the rhythm of your kiss.

He breaks away after a few moments, smiling softly at you again. “I told you, you’re her, you’re tiny dancer,” he teases softly. “My tiny dancer?” He asks shyly, taking the hand from the side of his face and lacing your fingers together.

“Yours,” you breathe in agreement and close the gap between you to kiss him once again.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

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antiloreolympus · 3 years

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8 Anti LO Asks

1. at the very least persephone could have been a nice pastel green to match demeter instead looking more like rhea's child, or demeter and rhea could have switched colors so demeter matches persephone and now the big three could take after the mother's green. even hepheastus and ares are in the orange range to be close to hera's yellow, meanwhile the most important mother and daughter relationship dont look related at all. the character design choses in this series make no sense to me.

2. I'd love to say smth critical about lo but I couldn't even read several chapters because of how boring it was. Like why should I read it. Story is not interesting at all and there is no plotpoint that can keep me invested. Also artstyle is super ugly and I don't understand what is happening and who is who most of the time. Won't pick it up ever again lol :]

From OP, not Anon: It's so weird because I first read LO in one sitting (it was about 80 or so episodes at the time) but now I can barely get past the first 20 episodes. Maybe that's just me though.

3. honestly thats kinda what i dont get at this point? because if it was a clear cut gossip girl lije secret dating focus on hxp's relationship then i would get it and it'd probably stay pretty consistent, but what does the AOW, trials, attempted coups, another war with kronos, and the like really add to the series? it just makes the story become unfocused and confusing, and does not aide in developing hxp's relationship. its supposed to be their story yet they're secondary in many ways.

4. i can honestly only remember one time rachel actually drew any genuine greek like LO art and it was a single illustration of hxp in the style of a black line greek vase and that's it, and that was over three years ago at this point. meanwhile instead the majority of LO artwork is 50 shades-inspired wattpad manips from her than anything that would actually give away this is supposed to be about greek mythology.

5. i also found it weird webtoons isn't using any stuff from the last two years to promo LO with? like the stuff they're reusing from 2018 looks nothing like it does now (even the colors dont match) so its like?? why not update it? even lets play and unordinary (which have been running longer than LO) have their promo stuff match the current product's look, not clinging to what it was like literal years ago. that's such a weird admittance that the current LO stuff isn't really good to use.

6. LO stans are banned from acting like they're superior to anyone. Y'all get no high ground on anything when you disrespect a whole ass culture, even more so when y'all defend Miss white af Rachel Smythe who also disrespects and tell Greeks they're wrong for trying to help her get her shit straight on their culture.

I genuinely wish webtoon would drop LO and promote actual better series and creators, or at the very least give me a block function, I'm tired of seeing LO whenever I open the app.

7. Rachel created her dream cast by rolling dice. None of the actors have any rhyme or reason or rythme about them. They were chosen randomly so she could get brownie points.

8. I JUST REMEMBERED SOMETHING. RS is framing Helios as an enemy of Persephone, but in the older myths, Helios was the only god who actually saw what happened to Persephone when Hades kidnapped her and he was key for Demeter to start finding Persephone. He was the second deity (after Hekate) who found out that something was up.

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lo critical #lore olympus critical

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cto10121 · 3 years

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Rule of Wolves, in a nutshell (spoilers):

A good, practical how-to guide on turning two fun side characters into dire awful joyless main characters. It’s easier than you think!

Hello, dear readers, this is your author speaking! Friendly reminder that Evil Darkling Is Evil because [copy paste list of crimes] and he definitely never loved Alina and will say so (like a retconned cartoon villain) and Alina never loved him and will say so (like an OOC author mouthpiece). But don’t worry, he will get a random redemption arc anyway by turning into a tree and if you still stan the Darkling after this, you are an abuse apologist :)

Nikolai quickly forgetting his pursuit for the crown and love for Ravka moments after he got confirmation that he was indeed illegitimate and has decided to fuck off and return to being a side character privateer again. But hey, Zoya is now Power Sue Queen, and Nikolai her unabashed simp so progress!

Nina and Hanne having zero romantic chemistry and development (hell, Nina showed more fire and passion in wanting to kill Matthias’ killer than her fade-to-black sex scene with Hanne) but we have to convince remind the reader that Nina is indeed bi and this author is thirsty for those sweet Gay and NB Representation(tm) woke points

The Crows waving hi and then bye for their contrived pointless cameo

Alina and Mal waving hi then flipping off the Darkling for their contrived, barely relevant cameo

Zoya being Ravkan then retconned as brown half-Suli and then retconned again as white-passing half-Suli when readers with a brain pointed out her description in the trilogy, because again, anything for that POC Representation(tm) woke points

Decent Zoyalai mutual pining, though with an unfortunate copy-paste Kanej dynamics

“The Darkling still being the most interesting character in this mess despite everything including craven authorial interference to make him as OOC as possible and the inherent pointlessness of his return” (reprise, Op. 7 in Bb major, allegro più vivace con grande crescendo)

Goodbye consistent rules for this barely coherent magical system, we hardly knew thee, YEET

Ravka being once again locked in war with Fjerda and Shu Han, the Grisha still being persecuted and forced into horrible supersoldier programs with definite Holocaust imagery, and now there is a random blight that appeared and disappeared until the end of the book. Literally nothing changed and gotten worse. But let us remind the reader again the Darkling was the worst thing for Ravka ever even while lowkey admitting that he was right about some things and his plan would have worked and while he had strong motivations his methods were just too ~extreme~ for the 94377383th time shall we

Nina being a proud Grisha Ravkan still obviously mourning Matthias and still casting shade on Fjerda...content to marry a Fjerdan she has known for months

*insert toy story meme* Retcons, retcons everywhere

Author-approved soap opera fanfiction I guess

#rule of wolves #grishaverse #cristina reviews #cristina snarks more like #why do i do this to myself #i told my dad about the tree thing and he gave me a dirty look #hasn’t read a word of the series just watched the show and even he was casting shade #darling dorkling darkling done dirty #shadow and bone #nikolai duology

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wexhappyxfew · 3 years

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The Sun Will Always Rise || Ronald Speirs

inspired by a quote from Ruta Sepetys’ book, Between Shades of Grey ~ ❛you stand for what is right, without the expectation of gratitude or reward. ❜

Happy HBO War Secret Santa 2020! I can’t believe the time has officially arrived and to say I am beyond excited for this lil Ronald Speirs imagine I cooked up, is an understatement. This is for @incorrectbandofbrothersquotes , for Kelsey!! It’s not as much of a Christmas theme, more of a snowy, wintry theme, which I love!!

I was beyond excited to take up a request for Secret Santa and laying out my options, going off your list, I chose Ronald Speirs to write for you - I am so happy with how this turned out, and I hope, more than anything, you enjoy it and it brings some holiday cheer to this time of year, especially after a year where it seems like every thing that happened just got worse and worse.

Take time to yourself this holiday season, Kelsey, and you enjoy some time for yourself as well - you are such a wonderful human being, who I believe if I’m correct, I have followed since Day 1 in this fandom, nearly 2 years ago - if that even sounds right LOL! It’s been a long while though! Happy reading and happy holidays for whatever holiday you celebrate, or if you don’t celebrate any at all! Thank you and enjoy! And thank you @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant for doing this!!! <3

ronald speirs imagine x reader - 2.5k word count <3

Captain Speirs had been rather adamant on letting you go early from the tiny meeting Captain Winters had organized - between the runny nose, your numb fingertips, and your pale cheeks which seemed to stand out especially in the bleak wilderness around you, you figured it was for the best.

Haguenea, France was far from the paradise that Mourmelon-le-Grande had offered back in the convent in Rachamps when it was the only thought inside your mind, the warmth reaching your hands for the first time in what felt like months.

Now, your toes were numb just like your mind. Your helmet was cast down over your tired eyes, the dark rims that had accompanied you through Bastogne, along with the terrors of the Bois Jaque, you were surprised that you could no longer get a proper night of sleep at this point.

OP 2 stood with its bullet speckled fortifications, shattered glass window panes, and mud covered path way but more than anything you felt a tiny smile poke up at the corner of your mouth, more than anything in that moment.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you tucked your little hands towards the coat portion near your armpits, relishing the bit of warmth your body still managed to produce.

Moving up the few steps you had taken that morning, up to the depths of OP 2, you stomped the bits of mud out from the portions of your new winter-boots pack and pushed inside the bit of warmth that drifted from the outpost.

You could hear a few of the men moving around downstairs, most likely eating their fill before the patrol slated for 0100 tonight. It was quiet on the main level though, beds left unmade from where men had taken much-needed naps from the bitter cold which brought on layers of tiredness and loss of calories more than the normal days of what war brought.

Pulling the Thompson from your shoulder, you let it drop into your cold hands before lying it beside the bunk you, yourself had taken a nap in before you had woken up for the meeting.

Yawning, you glanced towards the open French doors that let in the cold draft of air in the late, dreary afternoon. The quiet river that trailed outside let it’s soft presence be known as the sun did its best to warm the land underneath which lay tattered in ruins and soaking snow and mud pits, decorating it with war.

Moving outside again, you let your pistol bump at your hip - no one wanted to start another battle when the war had already taken enough, no one wished to throng bullet after bullet towards one another when there was already so much bloodshed - for a moment there was simply just peace as you moved outside towards the river.

Turning the corner, where you had found a little secluded spot to just sit and let the tiny bit of peace you felt overtake you, you noticed a figure standing stiffly, his dark eyes looking out across the river, with a scarf pulled up around his stubble cheeks, eyes evidently alert and awake.

You had found the area just that day, frosted hedges and a leafless tree hanging overhead with the dreary sky as a saddening backdrop.

Clearing your throat, you took a tentative step forward, watching the man with gentle eyes. He didn’t seem to notice your presence, he didn’t make a show of it, but you knew he did, by the subtle shift in the way his shoulders dropped the slightest inch, and even his eyes seemed to soften, the hard glow from your side view of him fading.

Captain Speirs seemed no stranger to your presence in the simple way, he suddenly turned his own head towards your eyes, his lips pulled into the thin line you had seen previously at the small gathering with Captain Winters.

“ I thought I told you to get some rest, Lieutenant.” he said, his eyes softly moving up and down your small stature, stopping briefly on your hands which looked nearly as pale as the sky by that point - you looked so fragile and small in his eyes for a moment.

“ Sleeping and I aren’t exactly compatible.” you said as you approached him, your feet in the mud covered boots slowing to a pause in front of him as he watched you earnestly.

“ What are you doing out here, Lieutenant?”

“ I could ask the same of you, sir.” you answered quietly back, watching as he studied your eyes, noticing the build of stress lines that stretched like the horizon underneath your stressed eyes, the sunken in cheeks showing the wounds of war in someone who had fought so strongly against it and the pain of a million souls rupturing your heart. A slight hint of a smile poked up at the corner of his lips, as he finally rested his eyes on your own again, before looking back out towards the river and the enemy’s side.

“ It’s peaceful out here.” he said and you watched as he let his eyes move along the bank of water, softly picking on each and every little part of the river from its banks to the white caps.

“ I’m glad I’m not the only one who found it peaceful then.” you said quietly, your own eyes caring out towards the, admittedly, cold water. Slowly, willing yourself with the might you had, you walked forward and slowly positioned yourself beside the man, barely reaching his shoulder if you could admit it and let your eyes remain out on the river.

Captain Ronald Speirs had come into your life only recently, but even years before you had bumped into him on occasion - it was always a mutual greeting, signs of respect being passed between the two of you, both Lieutenants in your own realms. He had even complimented the dress you’d been wearing out on the town one night with a group of the guys in Aldbourne after the Normandy Campaign. He had liked the color - it had been a soft baby blue, like robin’s eggs - and he had liked it.

Of course at the time, you hadn’t thought much of it, the sun rising and setting, the moon coming out to expose the raw pain and truth of war, the bloodshed and endless battles and the grief that consumed merely just one person after the next - you’d forgotten about it almost instantly. You still remembered the softness of his eyes - that hadn’t changed.

Now, he was your CO and you remained a close Second to him; he turned to you when he wanted to run something over, and on occasion, you two shared a cigarette under the moonlight when all the men were tucked away and finally getting the restful sleep they deserved.

“ What do you think’s gonna happen on that patrol tonight, Lieutenant?” he asked you, voice soft, in a way gentle, but the soft rasp of a cough in his throat was far from evident. He always seemed to confide in you when these circumstances arose - especially after Rachamps.

“ I think the men will be okay, they’ve fought for a while in this war, just as the enemy has. They’ll do their best.” They were tired is what she wanted to say, all the men were - she gave a prayer to Sergeant Martin for the heed he took when assigned to lead the patrol over the exhausted Sergeant Malarkey.

“ They’ve all fought long enough.” the Captain said quietly and you peaked a hesitant glance up towards him. Your heart didn’t fail to speed up the slightest bit at the gentle nature that encased his face and the way he seemed to undoubtedly care for each of the men like a father would.

Turning from the river, he slowly met your eyes which didn’t falter in looking away from his own - you were rather mesmerized by his beautiful irises, the way they glowed even in darkness or in the bleak snow, even when the sun would rise, they glowed so purely.

“ Sir….I….” He watched you speak, head inclined towards you, waiting for the words from your lips, but you were caught up with the caring nature he seemed to inhibit within himself in that moment of time where there was no war, no peace, just him and his eyes, and just...him.

“ I know you care for these men, Y/N.” Captain Speirs whispered softly, as he watched your eyes change from the stressed expression they seemed to constantly encompass to a gentleness, a warmth, merely at the direct comment of her name and not just the soft rasp of Lieutenant - no he had said your name. So softly and tenderly, each letter off the tongue like a song.

“ I’ve been with them since Toccoa, sir….I…” your shoulders managed to slump as you found yourself unable to finish your sentence under the Captain’s gaze, unable to process mere words.

“ These men don’t deserve this Y/N, I know that and so does Captain Winters - I think we all do.”

“ Battalion’s orders.” you managed out weakly, with an attempt at a frosted smile as he nodded, watching the sadness flood your eyes again - he found out he didn’t like seeing your beautiful eyes sad like that, even if they still looked just as beautiful, your eyes didn’t deserve to see and feel such pain, for their mere beauty was worth much more.

“ You don’t deserve this either, Y/N.” Shutting your eyes for a moment, you felt your heart squeeze at his words - you always thought in some way you had - for the lives you took, for the ones you couldn’t prevent being taken, from everything. In some ways, it was alright - to pay your dues as such.

“ You deserve to be happy, warm...in a little cottage by the sea that you’ve always liked…”

He had LISTENED to that story? He had HEARD that story?

You swore it must’ve been the fever or maybe that the recollection you had was just you mumbling to yourself, you swore it had been.

“ You heard all that?” you asked softly, your eyes opening as you met his own again. A chuckle left his lips and you found it enough to boost your own into a shy smile at it, his eyes downcast before glancing up to your own. He had a nice laugh.

“ Yeah, yeah I did,” he said biting back his lips as a smile crossed his lips, twinkling eyes shining on you,” must’ve been the fever but you were going on and on about it and I wasn’t going to stop you either.” You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at your clumsy way of speech - through a fever and the cold and you had blabbered to Captain Speirs about the cottage by the sea you wished for.

Both your smiles seemed to fall once the moment past and almost like a little angel on your shoulder, your heart pleaded to see that dash of a boyish grin on his lips again. Your heart nearly yearned for it when it’s only human contact was the Captain in front of her - maybe she wanted it too.

And from the proximity of your bodies, you were nearly in reach of him.

“ Your eyes..-” Softly looking towards you as you spoke, your lip hanging open a bit as you met them again,”...I mean, sir, I..I don’t know if you’ve been told, but you’re eyes…” He watched you softly.

“ They’re beautiful, sir, and I just thought you should know.” Because in war, this war, I may never see you after tonight, you wished to say, but your head was saying no as your heart was saying yes.

The smile that had gone underground on the Captains’ face suddenly grew, spreading across his face and you couldn’t help but let your breath get caught in your throat.

An ethereal being was your first thought.

It seemed like he too was caught at a similar crossroads, his eyes betraying him and his heart - you were within reach, you were standing right there, despite everything.

You were standing there with a wounded heart.

“ I could say the same to you,” he said quietly,” Lieutenant.” Your heart squeezed the slightest bit tighter as he said it.

“ Baby blue,” he said quietly,” like robin’s eggs.” Your eyes carried up to his again and you met them within seconds, suddenly aware of the heat on your cheeks, the pounding of your heart - none of it.

“ I didn’t just notice that dress you wore that day, Lieutenant,” he said quietly,” I noticed those eyes too.” He swore they could make the sun want to rise on its worst days. You swore it was just the cold, but you had no words left to say, you had nothing to say at all - because his eyes which glowed like the sun, said it all.

“ Sir….” you whispered, but he suddenly turned and gently pressed his hands which had been crossed over his chest, flush against your red cheeks and watched you tenderly, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin of your sunken in cheeks, as he watched your eyes. He watched you so selflessly, like you were his sun, his world.

Could a person ever mean that much to another - maybe Ronald Speirs thought that way.

Maybe he always had.

It seemed for a moment the stoic Captain did everything to break down the walls which encapsulated him just so he could touch the human in front of him - you. The bit of warmth he still felt under his fingertips coming from you.

Softly, ever so lovingly, he shut his eyes as you watched his long lashes cover his irises.

And in that moment, you shut your own as he held your there, inches from his face, faintly hearing his heartbeat which raced for the first time since Foy.

“ You stand for what is right, Y/N, without the expectation of gratitude or reward.” he whispered softly as your heart rushed and hurriedly skipped over a beat without hesitation,” And through this war, even after, it’s all you deserve.”

And within a moment, a softness pressed against your cold cheek, the touch of his lips on your skin, a gentle kiss from the servant of the sun - and just as fast as it had happened it disappeared.

Your own hands slowly moved upward towards your flushed cheeks - you could still feel the brush of his lips against the skin of your cheek.

Opening your eyes, you found yourself alone, all alone by the rushing water of the river, your heart pounding. Slowly, you glanced over your shoulder and found the figure of the Captain moving away from you, his commanding presence which had fallen to his queen for a mere moment of time, back up.

Yet you had seen it fall, and you had seen his heart, his beautiful heart - for not only were his eyes as beautiful as they had been, but so was his heart - it had always been, but this time, so was everything else about him.

Everything.

The sun smiled, it would always rise.

The sun would always rise.

#hbo war secret santa 2020 #shannon's writings #band of brothers imagine #imagine #writing #short fic #ronald speirs x reader #ronald speirs #kelsey!#incorrectbandofbrothersquotes #wexhappyxfew #bob imagine #band of brothers fandom #secret santa 2020 #hbo war #bob #band of brothers

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whirlybirbs · 4 years

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( gif, again, by @barissoffee ! )

— STARJOCKEY & CO. ; 2 of ?

summary: the bad batch gets a pilot, and they get a mission. acid rain happens. hunter & zip still don’t get along. no one is surprised. pairing: twi’lek!reader (zip nickname) x hunter word count: 3.2k a/n: pumping this out so i can write some hunter/reader content tonight to follow this character arc! we love some good ol’ action adventure acid rain! also, don’t try and neutralize acid with water, kids. that’s not how that works. but this is star wars, and it works here.

previous chapter | next (coming soon!)

It’s too early for this.

Despite having a steaming thermos of caf in your hands, you still have to pull your eyes open wide and try not to sway on your feel as you remind yourself this debrief is important. Very important.

Very early, but very important

Sleep, too, especially after the amount of hours you poured into repairs on the Havoc Marauder last night, is equally as important — but the debrief takes priority. For now.

Maybe you can bribe D-M1 to pilot for a bit once you take off. Just so you can plant your head on the dash and doze for a minute. A loth-cat nap.

Ugh -- a nap sounds good right about now.

You take a long sip of caf and rub your face as Cody continues to speak, gesturing to the glowing blue holomap that casts a glow across the entire room.

Through the thick of the swirling mission debrief, Hunter is staring.

Well, more glaring, really.

(Can you blame him? His senses have been cranked to 12 since he was made, and still, he can’t ignore the smell of your morning beverage of choice. All he can smell is your caf and the elaborator creamer you’d put in it. It smells like cocoa and star-cherries and caf and it’s all Hunter can smell. It’s giving him a damn headache.)

You’re beginning to wonder if that’s all his stupid -- albeit handsome -- face does. The scowl there digs in deep, and you have to try your hardest not to roll your eyes as you take another sip of your caf.

He’d walked in here, hauled the helmet off, and you’d realized Cody was right when he said they didn’t look like the other clones you knew. They were all different -- higher cheekbones on Crosshair and a sharper profile on Hunter. Tech was small and boggly-eyed, while Wrecker towered over everyone in the room with his round ol’ dome.

They were nothing like the others from the 212th.

Your lekku twitch, swatting a bit, as your attention moves from challenging Hunter’s glare back to the debrief at hand.

Hunter, as he pries his eyes away from your cock-hipped posture, wonders how in hell a civvie like you managed to land this job. He’d much rather have a reg flying him and his brothers around than a ex-criminal and her junkyard droid.

... He heaves an inward sigh.

Maybe he’s being a dick.

Cody trusts you. Hunter can at least try...

... Right?

Hunter diverts his attention back to Cody’s words, ignoring the unsettling idea of being civil with you. “What’s the status of Yanibar’s alliance?”

“None,” Cody drops a hand to his hip, resting it on his holster, “Neutral -- but it lays between the Outer Rim and Unknown Regions. The inhabitants tend to be those running from things like the war. But, I’m sure the Separatists will have their eye on the space ports for GAR officials. It’ll be basic recon. You fly in under the radar, scope out the manufacturing lab on Yanibar, and get out.”

Cody pauses, takes in the affirmative nods of the room, then continues:

“And lucky for all of you -- that ship in the hangar has no Republic tags. You’re gonna be a ghost.”

“No Republic tags?” Hunter asks, dark brow lifting.

“We’ll be off the books -- Seps will think we’re probably just smugglers,” you shrug, explaining as Tech hums quietly at the realization, “Knowing them, they won’t wanna start anything with locals. Especially if they’re break neutrality laws and mining a planet in the grey zone.”

“Exactly.”

You cop a smirk Cody’s way. “Now I know why you kept that bucket of bolts.”

“Repo’s have their uses,” the Commander shirks, “And civvie pilots, too.”

Now this is all starting to make sense. They wanted you to play the part -- and with any luck, the boys in the back cargo hold will go unnoticed as you carry on on Yanibar.

D-M1 pipes up from her spot below the holo-map. “Zip plays a wonderful smuggler. Four varying counts of weapons, drug and wildlife trade have made her --”

“Alright, alright,” we swat at the droid’s bobbing head, “I swear, who ever programmed you should be shot.”

The droid makes a sound akin to a laugh. Cody snorts.

Hunter ignores the distrust settling under his skin.

“Everyone got the plan?” Cody asks, looking around the command center. When he’s met with silence, he nods to dismiss the Bad Batch and their new pilot, “Alright. Head out. Comm in if there’s any trouble.”

“You got it, Commander.”

“Hunter?” Cody calls, “Zip?”

You both linger in the doorway.

“Play nice, yea?” he grins, “And good luck.”

-- ↯ --

You realize, six hours later, as you hang yourself out of the landing ramp mid-flight, trying desperately to get a hold on Crosshair who’s trying to get a hold on Hunter, that Cody jinxed you.

He most definitely jinxed you.

-- ↯ --

The mission had started just fine, after all -- the ride was fast, the travel checkpoints passed with no trouble, and you’d entered Yanibar’s airspace on a pretty mild day. No questions were asked when you dropped the Havoc Marauder down fifteen klicks outside of the nearest space port. The boys off-loaded and headed for the manufacturing plant.

The landscape gave enough cover as if it.

Large, sweeping stone outcroppings punctured the dunes and climbed high towards the sky, casting long jagged shadows in the golden sand. Creatures moved with the shade, relaxing along the cooling surfaces as the suns moved high in the sky.

Parked in a ravine and hidden from sight, you’d spent the first two hours monitoring the location of the Batch; every half hour, Tech would radio in giving an update on their location. By hour four, they were close. By hour five, the line had gone silent.

And you were starting to get nervous.

Their geo-coordinates marked them about 30 klicks East -- in the estimated area of the manufacturing lab they were slotted to recon.

By hour five and a half, the sun was disappearing. Slowly, with clouds shrouding the sky, but... the spaces between the brown clouds were turning a muddied color. You leaned, squinting over the dashboard with a confused look, before moving to the back of the ship and punching open the landing ramp.

When you stepped into the hot, mid-day heat, you realized exactly what was happening. You kicked yourself for not realizing sooner.

D-M1′s the one that made a panicked sound.

“We’ve got a problem!”

You were fast, bounding up the ramp and skidding inside as you slam the lock for the door on your way to the cockpit -- in a flash, you’d started up the engine and flicked alive the comms.

“Boys,” you yelped, pulling the headset on over your lekku, “We’ve gotta get a move on, now.”

Hunter, elbows deep in a dune with his eyes plastered to a pair of specs, cursed. Your voice crackled from his helmet, resting between him and Crosshair, and Hunter was almost inclined to ignore it.

But, the sniper tapped his wrist without looking from his scope and spoke.

“Go ahead, Zip.”

“Acid rain storm,” you blurted out, leaning as D-M1 points at the meteorological gauge in her little hands in a panic. The radar swept across the map once and showed the brewing storms, “About five klicks South of me.”

You knew acid rain storms. The planet you’d grown up on had them enough -- and even Coruscant had them. But, the color of these clouds...

Your father always used to say, the dirtier the cloud, the quicker the shroud.

Y’know, like death shrouds?

“-- Shit.”

Hunter was hoping that feeling in his gut was nothing. He should have listened to it.

“She couldn’t a’ told us sooner?” Hunter gritted out, pushing up from his elbows in a flash. Not entirely fair, but damn. This was not going according to plan. First the patrol droids and now --

A deep bellow of thunder rolled in the distance, then.

And now this.

Crosshair inhaled sharply and proceeded to silently snap the attached scope from his rifle in one swift, practiced move. He’s not gettin’ in the middle of this.

“Unless you boys wanna melt your pretty armor,” came your voice, crackling alive in Hunter’s helmet as he pulled it over his head, “I’d say we hurry this little play date up --”

And that’s the precise moment Wrecker snapped one of three patrol droids over his thigh, much to Tech’s despair, and sent the entire op down the shitter.

You found the squadron, then, pinned in a rain of blaster-fire, trading shots with the handful of B1′s -- their shots lit up the kicked up sand from the winds, beginning to howl as the dark brown clouds to the South began to loom over the once sunny dunes.

“Bring it down low, Deemi!” you hollered, throwing your headset as you moved to the back of the ship, “Get ready to go when they’re loaded on!”

“Got it!”

You punched the ramp, pulling your green tinted goggles down over the slop of your nose as the door opened. Taking a braced step out, you were fast to spy the boys as the Havoc Marauder began to lower itself slowly.

Then, a blaster bolt skimmed your head -- it leaves a charred sizzzzle against the matte black paint job of the repo’d ship.

You leaned back, tugging your pistol from you hip and firing a quick volley back at the droid who’d aimed for your head. After three shots, you nailed the B1 unit down, and turned your attention back to the Bad Batch.

You’re about to wave Deemi down, to tell her to plant the ramp on a rising dune then, when an entire squadron’s worth of battle droids lumbered from the back entrance of the manufacturing plant and began laying down fire on you and the ship.

“SWING IT AROUND!” Hunter screamed, waving you off.

Deemi listened, and you fell back through the door as the ship pulls away fast from the oncoming fire. Your back hit the navicomputer’s paneling hard as the ship banked left, and your breath flew from your lungs as you did, gritting your teeth tightly at the impact.

You scrambled, quickly, to watch from the open side-ramp as the entirety of the plant came into view.

It’s huge.

A main control tower rises high in the sky, above the three conveyor bays that spark through the small slitted windows three stories up. The walls are encroached by dunes, and the desert threatens to swallow it up.

As Deemi banked wide, you planted your boot on the doorway as you watched the firefight disappear around the edge of the massive building.

And that’s when it started to rain.

You hissed loudly then, immediately drawing a hand back when a fat droplet of brownish water hits your skin. Cursing as you swiped away the acidic liquid, you scowled at the welt it left behind.

And if the from the drop in temperature was any indication, it was about to pour.

“Deemi,” you screamed, “I’m gonna need you to speed it up!”

You were fast to stagger back from the doorway, moving to haul the bottom of your flight suit up -- the sleeves, tied neatly over your belt, are yanked onto your arms and over the black compression top. You zipped the collar up tight and moved to the storage built into the bunk atop the navi-console.

“Come on, come on,” you muttered, digging around. You knew you saw a poncho somewhere and -- “Aha!”

It’s not much, but it at least covered your lekku. If anything it will keep the sensitive skin of the head-tails safe enough for a few minutes. You hauled the black, weatherproof poncho over your head and ignore the musty smell coming from it -- just in time, too, as Deemi had propelled the engines into a kick for the banking maneuver and the Bad Batch was in sight again.

The moment you and Deemi get in range, the skies opened up.

It starts raining so hard you could hardly see -- and the headlamps of the boys illuminated the muddied downpour a few feet ahead of them. Deemi bought the ship down low enough that the ramp connects with the tip of a dune, and you staggered a bit on the impact.

The ship’s lights cast bright cones of light into the acid rain storm, and Tech is the first one through the doors. You curse, ignoring the tingling sting of the rain splashing on your face, and call out to the others.

“GET ON!”

Wrecker is next, passing you and launching himself through the doors with a curse -- the droids have seemed to back off, leaving the squadron to book it as the acidity begins to gnaw at their armor. You can hear a commotion behind you, and assume it’s Tech snagging the gallon of filtered water stored under the refresher sink to dowse himself and the heavy artillery man.

Next is Crosshairs, who you reached out to as he planted a boot on the edge of the ramp -- without warning and rather suddenly, the ship gave a terrible moan. Then, unceremoniously, the dune the ramp had been perched upon tumbled downwards into a slip of mud.

The landscape was melting, and so was your poncho.

In a panic, you grabbed Crosshair’s vambrace and barely managed to snag the ramp’s guard rail; in a flash, Crosshair had Hunter’s hand secured in his own. Good thing, too, since the Sergeant’s boots now hung thirty feet in the air where the tip of the towering dune used to be.

And that’s where you find yourself now.

Cursing, you strain to readjust your grip on the railing as rain runs down your chin. It stings like a bitch -- but you can’t help but think the pull of your arm is a little worse.

You curse sharply in Ryl, and scream Wrecker’s name so harshly the trooper’s heart nearly stops. His helmeted head whips around.

“DON’T JUST STAND THERE!”

Your knuckles, beneath the thick flight gloves have gone from a warm peach to a pale yellow -- the strain there is only relieved when Wrecker finally moves to the other side of the ramp and grabs Crosshair’s upper arm; together you both haul the two troopers up onto the ramp as Deemi’s banks backwards -- a few moments too late -- and sends a pile of acid rain soaked bodies tumbling back into the belly of the ship.

The droid closes the ramp as she banks away from the manufacturing plant.

You don’t even have time to celebrate the sheer survival of the stunt -- you’re instead stripping off the poncho that’s now got Republic credit sized holes eaten into it. You whip off your goggles, and curse again -- your flight suit is starting to sizzle and the acid on your face hurts and --

Suddenly, you take a whole bucket of water to the face and it all stops.

Tech, standing there clutching the now empty bucket, looks rather sheepish.

Your shoulders immediately sag in relief, and the troopers behind you are the next victims of Tech’s hose-down. Deemi, from the front of the ship, asks if she should drop into hyperspace and the entire cabin gives a dejected chorus of yes at the same time.

You wipe the neutral water, running over your nose and chin, from your face as you sit down in one of the chairs by the navicomputer.

Hunter drops his hands to his waist, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, and opens his mouth to speak.

You, instead, cut him off with a single raised finger and a pointed look.

“You,” you snap, “Don’t get to say a word to me until my face is not swollen and Tech can confirm I don’t have acid rain poisoning. Understood?”

Hunter just snaps his mouth shut. You have welts down your cheeks from where your goggles met your skin. Your lekku, too, don the same blistered orange marks. Guilt suddenly washes over him, only for a second. He’d gotten off easy. The acid rain had only eaten through the first layer of his composite armor.

The whole cabin, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable, decides to go their separate ways. Hunter, though, doesn’t move. Instead, he watches as you stand and inspect the now shredded flight suit that hangs off of you. You move across the cabin quickly, not bothering to avoid him.

You slam your shoulder into his and keep moving.

-- ↯ --

You don’t have acid rain poisoning.

Which is good, you guess.

But, the residuals still hurt -- bad.

You throw yourself into the far-too-small ship refresher for a rinse off -- Wrecker was nice enough to insist you get to go first (“For savin’ our skins an’ all, Zippy!”) and you can’t help but snort at Tech’s face when you emerge in a clean flight suit. He looks worried.

You’ve got welts all over your face.

“I think it’s a cute look,” you jab playfully, leaning to inspect your reflection in the polished chrome door, “Don’t you, Tech?”

“Looks painful.”

Crosshairs laughs.

The welts on your lekku are. You’d had to smother the startled yelps with your hand when the hot water made contact. You hope the boys hadn’t heard.

(Hunter certainly had, and he wasn’t even in the lower level of the ship. He was up top, ignoring the dull ache in his arm and pretending he didn’t need to rinse off. It had sparked a little worry in him, though, and he’d casually muscled his helmet on to do some digging on the holo-net about potential complications from injured lekku. The results were... not ideal.)

You massage the point on the back of your neck where your headwrap normally clasps together, keeping the animated little appendages under control and out of the way. You’ve forgone it now, and Crosshair watches as you sigh quietly as you rub the tension point.

You look different without it. A bit softer.

“It doesn’t feel great, but,” you shrug, shoulders a bit more relaxed than before, “I’ll be fine. Definitely the worst acid bath I’ve had in a while.”

“You’ve been caught in those storms before?” Tech asks, surprised. He’s placing his helmet down, stripping his armor as he speaks.

“I grew up in the South Tann Province,” you explain, “The jetstreams would carry polluted air through during the summer months, and sometimes the rain would be bad -- tarkona taka, my dad used to call it. But, that, back on Yanibar? That was worse than anything I’d ever experienced when I was a little girl.”

“Tarkona taka,” Tech sounds out, “What does it mean?”

“Brown weather -- or, storm, actually,” you grin, “Tak is brown, and tarkona is storm.”

“Yeah, well,” Wrecker supplies, muscling around through the barely stocked fridge in the far corners of the meager living quarters. Behind the microscopic kitchenette lay a hall of four bunks. Wrecker closes the door looking dejected, “I can’t wait to be back on Coruscant. No brown rain there.”

“On the lower levels there is!” you call out, spurring Wrecker’s shoulders to sag.

You move towards the ladder, planting a boot on the bottom rung when Crosshair’s calls out.

“Careful, Zip.”

“He still pissy?” you ask, loud enough that you know Hunter can hear, “Shame.”

The three members of the Bad Batch snort quietly as you move up the ladder anyway.

They like you.

And Hunter, still, doesn’t.

#bad batch imagine #tcw imagine #hunter x reader #clone trooper hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #star wars imagine #starjockey & co #hehehehehHHEHEHEHEHEH

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kay-kaylen · 4 years

Text

Comparison of OPs

So... I don’t know if anyone noticed, I’m sure a fair few have, but Fugou Keiji’s Opening has changed. The visuals are different with episode 1, and the other episodes.

So I took it upon myself to screenshot and compare every single difference between the OPs.

I had to pause it scene by scene and I literally wanna die now.

Here y’all go.

For the sake of simplicity, I’ll be calling the scenes in the OP of episode one the ‘old’ OP, and the scenes for the rest of the episodes the ‘new’ OP. Cool? Cool.

Alright so first difference right off the bat is the brief flash where Daisuke is taking off his tie. Hot I know, but the old scene is way more clear and yellow (probably to signify gold and money and stuff I dunno) While the new one is much darker and almost appears foggy, which is interesting.

This is the same for this shot of Daisuke, Haru and Suzue all standing in a room together. Older OP is way more yellow while the newer one has its colour more washed out (Could be symbolic of how the show slowly gets darker and darker as it goes on)

Next is the first shots we have of both Daisuke tilting his head up towards the camera, and Haru looking down towards the camera. In the old OP, the scene was waaaay more blue, while the new one has the colours all washed out and is darker and more silvery, and the shadow fighting (or dancing I guess) in the background is switched from black to white.

Next is Suzue, and this was probably the most obvious change to me. When I saw the new OP, she was the thing that tipped me off that something was different.

In the old OP, She’s fully coloured in with skin and everything and you can’t tell me that this ISN’T Suzue. Pink collar, gold bands, black silky long hair, this. Girl. Is. Suzue. Whereas you might’ve been able to squeeze in an excuse with the new OP, where her skin has turned black and her hair is white. She’s also wearing a more hot pink lingerie rather than the purple one from before.

The background has also changed. Previously, she had the gold and black tinted background like coins were raining down on her, but in the new OP, it’s changed to a plain pink background with an orange circle around her that almost appears like a spotlight (Maybe this means we’re supposed to pay more attention to her as she’s in the spotlight, or that she’s being watched somehow and someone else is watching her) and she’s moved more to the left in the newer version when we see her holding the wrench.

We have ANOTHER scene that’s almost the same except it’s been washed out and Daisuke is slightly more purple and has a yellow tie or something underneath. Again, the dancing figure is switched from black to white.

A thing that I’m noticing besides the washed out colours is how there’s an emphasis on that spotlight on the person dancing in the background. I think this is Daisuke, and if I had to guess, this spotlight represents that he’s being watched. But I’ll get more into analyzing this kind of thing in another post.

The next difference is again, another huge one that sent off my alarm bells that something was different in the OP. In the old version, the background was shaded magenta and every character was just black. However, in the new OP, the background is white and there’s a much stronger contrast with it and the black silhouettes and we can clearly see that Daisuke’s shadow is red instead of a very dark purple-almost black colour.

This scene probably has the MOST symbolism in the entire OP, but I’m going to hold my tongue and save it for another day.

When you pause and compare everything frame by frame, there is a LOT of difference. Just take these three shots that flash by in seconds. The gold on the watch is less detailed in the new version and the background is lighter, but we see the shadow more clearly. The silhouette in the glass is red instead of being a normal grey/black and the whole shot appears duller. Daisuke’s tie and suit also changed to suit the OP it comes from and the shadow casted on the bathtub is green instead of black.

Next is the scene with that lady and Daisuke. In the old OP, she’s been coloured in and more clearly defined and we can clearly see the lasers around Daisuke, who is watching her. In the new one, she’s been tinted to show more black and gold, like how Suzue was earlier and the lasers around Daisuke are not as clearly defined, but we can still SEE them if we look closely. He also has a shadow and the scene just overall looks far more grim and less bling.

Small detail in this one but it’s still a change so I have to put it in. In the old OP, right before Daisuke lights his cigarette, he’s already coloured yellow. However, in the new OP, he’s a dark blue and only goes yellow after he lights his cigarette.

I think it’s pretty neat even though it’s a small change because it gives more of the effect of the room being lighted up with the flame of the cigarette as compared to the old OP.

There’s a change that comes much later in the OP as compared to everything before now, and it’s very subtle but brings about a lot of symbolism.

In the old OP when we see Daisuke’s feet walking ahead, Haru’s isn’t there and only shows up in front of Daisuke when the whole division is shown walking together. But in the new OP, he DOES show up walking and keeping pace with Daisuke, and it looks more like he’d overtaken him as we zoom out rather than already being in front of Daisuke as with the old OP. I also find it kind of funny how Teppei and Shinnosuke’s feet are behind Daisuke for some reason. Maybe they’ll play a bigger role later? Who knows.

We get a brief shot of a woman right after this, and in the old OP, she was shown with a lot of gold and bling with a shadow, but in the new OP, she’s completely pastel and doesn’t even have the lipstick. To be completely honest, I can’t tell who this is. She has dark hair in both versions of the OP and it could be Suzue, but it could also just as likely be the woman from before or someone else entirely. I can’t tell. Her face makes it so I can’t tell how old she is, and she’s wearing different jewelry to what we’ve seen with Suzue and the woman from before have.

Next is another big shot (heh) that made me think that ‘okay the OP’s different’, and it’s the second round of Daisuke and Haru both tilting their heads to look at the camera. In the old OP, the background is black with golden moving specks that look like coins raining down. However, in the new OP, the background is completely white and they both seem to fade away or smudge.

Next we get the same bright to dull shot of the room (without Haru this time) Old OP is brighter and more yellow, new OP is more washed out.

The final difference is the shot of Suzue again with the knife, but this time, the only change is the background and her position. She’s been shaded in black, even in the old OP, and her lingerie changed to pink to match the new OP. It’s almost completely the same except for the background and how she’s been shifted to the left in the new version.

Aaaaand that’s a wrap. WHEW this actually took me way longer than I thought it would. There are a LOT of differences I hadn’t noticed until I examined everything frame by frame. It’s WILD.

So yeah, let me know what y’all think and whether I missed anything.

Bye!

#fugou keiji: balance unlimited #fkbu #fugou keiji #the millionaire detective #the millionare detective balance: unlimited #op #analysis #op analysis

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newspecies · 3 years

Text

HAI!!! i feel like all my followers have no idea what the fuck im talking about when i say things about my stories so uhm im gonna talk.

before i say anything im just gonna say that when i talk about the gods i generally refer to everyone else as mortals even if theyre not technically mortal. also i call the people of Earth humans but theyre really not i just dont know what else to call them

OK FIRST OF ALLL. the gods. there are 12 of them, but only 10 are widely known. Creechur got kicked out of God Club™ and is now stuck on another plane of existence unable to be seen by the living. Arcane does not want to be in God Club™ so she just hangs out with mortals. mostly on SOL. also she's called the Unknown so if everyone did know about her it would be a little weird.

the gods did not create the universe, they were just already there. really, the gods haven't made many things, other than Mazgomoth's Endless Dark. they helped certain things along, but they haven't interfered with too much. they mostly like to torment random people, and watch and laugh at mortal's short comings.

they have a set of rules that they don't actually break all that often. its mostly just don't interfere too much and get mortals to do everything for you instead. i guess its to prevent their version of god modding

mortals of Cosmos aren't generally aware of the gods unless they know someone from outside Cosmos (the Endless Dark, Hell, Olvion) or they have met one of the gods.

Citizens of Olvion don't really worship all the gods at once, most of the time they'll pick one or two. on occasion a god will find a mortal theyre fond of for whatever reason and bless them with some ✨powers✨ these people are called Chosen. Chosen can be blessed by multiple gods, but mostly only one or two.

Carrion and Thistle are bless by all of the gods and as a result are super op

mortals don't use any pronouns except it/its for the gods unless they know them really well. like how Alastor uses he/him pronouns for Creechur because he's basically their dad. most mortals also don't know the gods' names and only refer to them with their titles.

heres all the gods with their names and titles:

Mazgomoth, also known as the Monster, is the god of darkness, chaos, and change. it takes the form of a horse (ish..?) with butterfly wings and antennae, an extra set of ears, and a red fox tail. it created the Endless Dark and the Spirits that reside there. Mazgomoth personally creates every single Spirit's soul, mostly using shadow and little pit of light stolen from the Light Barrier. shadows cannot be cast without light. most Spirits worship Mazgomoth and even if they don't they still appreciate it. Chosen include: Synthesis, Sheridan, Shade, Dusk, Raven, Cornix, Etherael

Loom, also known as the Light Barrier (sometimes just shortened to the Barrier) is the god of light, order, and stagnation. he's also called Lampshade by the other gods because it's funny. he takes the form of a fluffy rainbow caterpillar. he is the reason SOL is Like That. he likes getting into fights with Mazgomoth and inconveniencing the other gods. mostly hes just kind of a dick to everyone. Chosen include: Nila, Etherael, Azazel, Lovanna

Kane, aka the Bite, is the god of death and absolute destruction. he takes the form of a rattlesnake. he likes making mortals kill each other. Hell is his domain (despite it originally belonging to Creechur), though he doesn't do much with it. Chosen: Surlmog, Kexiem

Creechur, aka the Scavenger, is the god of life after death. also detritivores. he takes the form of a turkey vulture <3 he got kicked out so now hes moping on another plane of existence, only able to be seen by the undead. he doesnt have a domain or anything but he the mortals he brings back from the dead are called the Undead. there's not many of them so they know him more personally than the average Spirit might know Mazgomoth. he likes hanging out with the Dreamer. Chosen: all of the Undead

Ifer, aka the Creator, is the god of creation, imagination, and creativity! he takes the form of a puppy. he doesnt do much other than marvel at mortal's creativity and making things for himself. Chosen: none

Pyxis and Cyphi, aka the Fears are gods of fear. their sisters and both take the form of black cats. they wish it was Halloween everyday <3 chosen: Briar, Willow, Flame

Terrag, aka the Dreamer, is a god of dreams, sleep, and the mind. he takes the form of a giant tarantula. he's currently asleep but Creechur visits him in the dream world a lot. Terrag likes showing up in random mortal's dreams and riding of them nightmares or just giving them a really really weird dream. chosen: Cornix, Raven, Lazarus

Jack, aka the Eyes, is a god of knowledge. he takes the form of a grey tabby cat with weird eyes. he used to just watch mortals until he realized he could just make other mortals watch other mortals so now he can mess around with the other gods. chosen: Shrike, Lavender, Constantine, Beleth

Arcane, aka the Unknown, is a god of the unknown. she takes the form of a white-backed vulture. she doesnt like being around the other gods because she actually has morals unlike everyone else so instead she spends her time hanging around mortals and helping out where she can. chosen: Venx, Sheridan

Ran, aka the Hunter, is a god of hunting and predator animals. she takes the form of a calico cat with fucked up teeth. shes really really mean and she, like Kane, likes to make make mortals kill each other. chosen: Ragyre, Leshok

Flea, aka the Hunted, is a god of being hunted and prey animals. he takes the form of a grey and black spotted fluffy dog. he likes to pick a random mortal and be their pet for whatever reason. maybe it feels safer to him or something. his current owner is Bog, who thinks hes just a normal dog and named him Tennis Ball. chosen: Bog

#rot.txt #world building #wow that was. a lot #long post #my hand kind of hurts now #im not proof reading this so theres prolly some embarrassing typos in here #uhm. yeah. if you read all of this thanks ily <3

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secret-engima · 4 years

Note

A Dissidia AU where all the Good Guys(tm) are various Noctis’ (allowing you to have the Noct’s that make you say, “interesting, but what’s the rest of the story? Hello? Hello?”). Regis, via Crystal-o-Vision is simultaneously a joy (so many sons!) and a sad (I can’t be with the sons). And the opponents? Eh, uhm. Hadn’t got that far. Nox and Ardyn’s? With maybe a few Glaucus? (The hell am I doing on this side? I have Idiots to Sheppard in a vaguely ordered fashion.)

Hmmmmmmm I’m still not sure what to DO with this but like- okay?

-Materia tries calling for Champions and it goes ... not well.

-All the various Nocti stare at each other. Canon Noctis, who has never done this before is an Internal Scream. While Nox is chill with it until he spots Little Nox. Noxtaur has jumped into the nearest perch and is Staying There while he laughs himself sick, N!Noctis is gently patting his big brother’s shoulder in sympathy while sporting big eyes, LN!Noctis is holding his little brother’s hand protectively, and NT!Noctis has joined his brother up in the rafters. Night King (NK)!Noctis is spacing off into the distance hoping if he ignores this problem his sanity will return, Yoru has broken out the sake and is looking honestly amused by all this, Au Ra Noctis is slowly climbing up to join the Taurs in their Perch of Hysteria, Youkai!Nox is looming in the far side of the room because he’s in his animal form and that animal form is Big™, and Deleantur-

-Deleantur, sitting in the corner watching this madness unfold, just kinda- sighs pathetically as he realizes that he’s technically the eldest and that means he’s theoretically in charge of this fiasco. Then he spots Fem!Nox & Fem!Noctis skulking over to his corner for peace and quiet and his brain shorts out.

-There’s also a Noctis lurking in the background who looks like he’s halfway daemonified but doesn’t FEEL like the Starscourge. Nobody is brave enough to ask for clarification and he doesn’t seem too keen on answering (he also seems about 80% Feral and none of the time-traveling Nocti want to think on those implications so they don’t). Next to him is a Noctis dressed in what looks like an Imperial uniform and while he’s acting polite enough he’s also welding a cane like it’s a weapon and his smile is DEFINITELY just this shade of Ardyn Scourge Crazy.

-Nobody is talking to that Noctis.

-Which suits him just fine.

-Eventually Deleantur and Nox (the OG Nox) manage to call order among all the Nox and Nocti and confront Materia about this issue. Materia very confused and apologetic but they ARE here now so maybe they could fight for her anyway?

-Since a minimum of all the Nox’s + Deleantur have lived through this plot at least once in their lives before, they are chill with the idea. The others less so.

-Imperial Noctis just kinda laughs in a way that gives no one any reassurance and the maybe-daemon Noctis has joined Youkai!Nox in his corner, they appear to be conversing via growl. All the Nocti elect to ignore this for their own sanity.

-Spiritus calls up material and he kinda laughs at her for accidentally calling so many copies of “the same soul” while HE managed a diverse cast (aka the regular Dissidia baddies) but Nox spots both his Ardyn and a Taur Ardyn at their respective Titus’s so hah jokes on you Spiritus.

-The Ardyns, of course, insta defect with the Titus’s following along behind Sighing™ at all the stupidity in their lives and OH LOOK AT ALL THE MORONS THEY HAVE TO BRAINCELL. At least Regis isn’t here.

-More than a few brains break meeting fem!Ardyntaur (and Fem!Nox & Noctis), but it’s STILL not as creepy as Imperial Noctis lurking in the back staring at Ardyn in a way that’s simultaneously Death™ and Perfectly Blank™ so.....

-Also Maybe Daemon Noctis has abandoned the strategy of “Stick Together and Get This Over With” in favor of chasing around the Clown Guy trying to rip his spine out. Or maybe eat him. No one is 100% sure.

-The Nocti and Noxs take turns holding Little!Nox and staying in the back under the watchful, massive eye of Youkai!Nox, and Deleantur leads a small group of Nocti to retrieve the various summons so they can get info on the World-Eater. it still takes a few days to get Materia and Spiritus to agree to cooperate and then a few more to find the World-Eater, during which such shenanigans occur as-

-All the compiled Nocti, Noxs, and Ardyns taking a nap on Youkai!Noctis because he is Large and Fluffy.

-The Titus’s exchanging tips on handling their idiots.

-The Ardyn’s having too much fun weirding people out with their existence (especially the Noxs and Nocti who are used to a male Ardyn)

-Fem!Nox, Fem!Noctis, and Fem!Ardyn all having some Girl Time because Female Solidarity in this Insanity.

-Little!Nox befriending Maybe Daemon Noct.

-Little!Nox getting a piggyback ride on Noctistaur’s back while Noxtaur quietly dies in the corner from embarrassment and cute.

-Little!Nox in general being an Utter Gem of Cuteness and leading the charge in all the Noxs adopting a very confused Sephiroth en masse.

-Little!Nox managing to befriend Imperial Noctis via having a sick day and suddenly deciding the only lap he can nap his sickness away in is Imp!Noctis’s. Who bears it with a grace more born out of bluescreening but hey.

-Everybody gets confused about Deleantur, who refuses to answer their questions (the Noxs figure it out and are kinda a Horror tho).

-By the time the World Eater is found and it’s time to fight, all of Spiritus’s champions minus Sephiroth and the Ardyns and Tituses are thoroughly terrified of anything Lucis Caelum. XD

-The fight is big and Epic and there are armigers everywhere and somehow Deleantur manages to out OP everyone else present with OG Nox, Imp Noctis and the Ardyns as close seconds.

-Needless to say, the World Eater is Very Very Dead™ by the time they’re done and honestly Spiritus and Materia are very glad that these lunatics are going home.

#SE asks #anon asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Nox verse #Deleantur verse #dissidia!#Nox verse Main #Fem!Nox verse #Little Nox verse #Nox!Taur verse #Nox!Youkai AU #Demon in the Dark verse #Breathe (the Dawn Rises) verse #SO MANY NOCTI

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baby-grayson · 4 years

Text

Kind Stranger|GBD|Part 12

Parts 1-11

Word Count: 4k Tag List: @styles-dolan @evergreendolan @someonetogray @vintagedolan @prettyboydolan @dolansficsandpics @graysavant @baby-turtles

Summary: Grayson and Kate try to be friends, but can you really be friends with your ex?

Ethan Dolan lived in the middle. In ways he both did and did not recognize; Ethan Dolan was always firmly in the middle. He was the middle child: being born 2 years after Cameron and 20 minutes before Grayson. He was in the middle of being famous and normal: a heart throb to the younger generation but an anonymous face to their parents. Since the age of 15, he was in the middle of having a New Jersey heart but a California life: despite his desire to stay in Australia and kiss his girlfriend for the first time in months. On one Tuesday night, Ethan Dolan sat in the middle of his twin brother and Grayson’s ex-girlfriend.

Why is it a three-person sofa feels so small when there are exactly three people sitting on it? A layman might answer that it was because the twins, especially Grayson, were large and bulky for their age. A wiseman would say that Ethan’s couch felt claustrophobic because that couch was housing four entities: Ethan Dolan, his beefy twin brother Grayson, Kate with her post-op foot propped up on their coffee table, and the deeply complex relationship between Grayson and Kate.

Grayson felt his heart launch itself onto an emotional teeter totter when Kate entered the room: he constantly oscillated between needing to pull her into his chest and breathe her in and wanting to break up in a sloppily worded soliloquy about his own independence and ability to find someone better than her. But Grayson really did wonder if there was anyone better for him. Being just friends with Kate was a fatal tease to Grayson’s emotions. As his friend, she still made him laugh, amazed him with her intelligence, and dizzied him with her effortless good lucks and bright smiles.

In truth, Kate dizzied Grayson so much that he specified looked for activities that would minimize her effect on him. Anyone else would slowly retract their involvement in their ex-girlfriend’s life, but Grayson subconsciously shelved that idea: secretly hoping that something would change if he held on long enough. This meant finding activities that did not require Kate to speak, look at him, or be alone with him, which is how Grayson, Kate, and Ethan ended up on the boys’ couch watching American Psycho on a Tuesday afternoon in August.

Ethan had suggested the movie to Grayson, originally as a joke. He knew Grayson did not have the mental fortitude to watch scary movies. Ethan almost intended to turn Grayson off from the idea so that he wouldn’t continue to be a third wheel on the adventure that was Gray and Kate’s friendship. Grayson had asked Ethan to accompany him to Kate’s apartment to drop off a few groceries for her in her current state. Grayson had blabbed to Ethan in the car that they were doing a nice gesture for a friend, that this is something they would do for Deon, Ryan, or Nolan if given the chance: Ethan silently wondered if Grayson was trying to convince himself.

After that episode, Kate had asked Ethan if he would be there when she and Grayson met for lunch for at their place. She went so far as to ask Ethan if he would drive her home in advance, trying to avoid being caught in a small space with Grayson. That lunch was the one of the most awkward burritos Ethan had ever eaten. Kate and Gray became caricatures of themselves, with Gray decided the only part of his life he could talk about was his successes in working out and Kate spitting out fun facts about science and math as if she had been paid to do so. Ethan Dolan was a good brother.

Ethan Dolan was so much of a good brother, that his eyes stayed firmly on the TV when Christian Bale’s character began having a threesome with two prostitutes. Kate instinctively closed her eyes tight, not that she was physically opposed to sexual content, she was just opposed to viewing it when in the company of her ex-boyfriend and his twin brother. Grayson’s jaw clenched and his eyes wide, his head stayed firmly planted on his neck: not daring to see the reactions of Ethan or Kate.

Silently, Grayson’s body exploded in a series of reactions. He utterly despised the part of him that became aroused at the scene. Since breaking up with Kate, he had been nothing but frustrated. He had tried to meaninglessly rump out that desire, but his plans had backfired when Kate woke up on his couch to find his nighttime partner escaping in the morning. Needless to say, Grayson was no where near physically satisfied.

He made a mental note to kill his brother for suggesting this movie. Did Ethan know this was in here? Is this why Ethan suggested it? Was this his idea of a joke? When one hooker became to mouth at Christian Bale’s undercarriage, Grayson nearly used the house key in his pocket to gauge out his twin brother’s eyes. Grayson’s mental soup of inhibiting arousal and seething anger was made all the more complicated by his treacherous nervous laughter.

Although incredibly sophisticated and mature for his age, Grayson Dolan was nothing if not an overgrown goofball. He had the bad habit of laughing in awkward situations, armed with a sense of humor that typically let him cut the tension in any room. However, no jokes came to his lips in this moment, only the nervous giggles of a schoolgirl bursted from his lips.

The trio stayed in that position: Kate’s eyes shut, Ethan facing straight ahead, and Grayson awkwardly chuckling at the end of the couch. After the longest three minutes any of them had ever experienced, Christian Bale escaped his threesome and began filming his companies with a 90s-esque camcorder.

“AHA-HA-HA,” Grayson laughed loudly but his eyes held the spirit of pain.

Kate decided she was going to mentally count to one thousand.

Ethan felt responsible to fix this moment. Afterall, he was the one who chose the movie. He was the one who caught Kate and Gray in this awkward situation. Although, he only felt bad for Kate: he felt a bit accomplished watching his brother squirm like this.

Ethan stuck his hand out from where he sat. Kate was on 202 when she felt Ethan’s shoulder move, she opened one eye. “Why the fuck would ya film that?” he exclaimed, “If I was there, I sure as hell wouldn’t be filming my own video unless I was in it.”

It was an okay thing to say for not knowing what he wanted to say. Even Ethan Dolan’s jokes fell flat at times. The air hung heavy and awkward, making Ethan nearly regret saying anything. Kate decided that Ethan’s attempt to make this better deserved some positive reinforcement. “I know! But at the same time, the fact he had to pay them means that he doesn’t know how to get it himself!” Kate knew her comment made little to no sense in relation to Ethan’s words, but it was the most sensical thing she could come up with. The only way she could make words happen was by pretending Grayson was not in the room.

Ethan scoffed and nodded with wide eyes. He nodded again, looking at different points on the ground in his search for words, “Yeah!!”. He faces palmed internally, as the air in the room washed from tense and awkward to bumbling in awkward.

Kate took in a breath, she continued to pretend that Grayson was not in the room. “I lowkey feel like most people who have threesomes probably have to pay at least one other person,” she shrugged to Ethan, “or get the third person from the internet.” Sure, talking to your ex-boyfriend’s twin brother about threesomes was a normal part of friendship…right?

Ethan sucked in his lips; his teeth immediately sank into the lips. He looked away from Kate and to Grayson. In the dark of their living room, he could notice the shade of red on Grayson’s face. The twins exchanged a wayward glance. Ethan surrendered and returned his focus squarely on the television.

Grayson stuttered slightly before he even decided to speak. But when he saw Ethan and Kate’s gazes look his way, he realized he had committed to speaking by making indiscernible sounds. “Not always,” his voice wavered in tone and frequency at each syllable, “When—you know—when I did it, it was just, two people who—” he wanted to curl up, melt into the sofa, and never return, “—really wanted to try with me.” With me? With me? How pretentious was he? Also what was he doing admitting that to Kate, on his couch, with Ethan sitting between them?

“It was a long time ago,” Grayson amended his statement, “Like over a year ago.” He should really shut up right now. Kate’s mouth gaped open slightly. If it wasn’t for the cast on her leg, she would have wanted to run out of the Dolan rental house as fast as she could. She peered at Ethan, looking for some sort of reaction. Ethan gave her a meek nod, as if to say that yes, Grayson was telling the truth. Kate swallowed hard. Kate looked back at Grayson and her lips went dry. “Must be a celebrity thing,” her words were quiet and hesitant before she turned to watch the movie. She realized that watching Christian Bale perform horrendous murders and romp with ladies of the night was better than discussing Grayson’s past sexual escapades.

None of them spoke for the rest of the movie. The three of them lasered in on the gritty, gory, graphic movie as if they would be tested on its contents afterward. They sat still, like three statues of themselves. They sat posed until the last name rolled on the credits of the movie.

Ethan moved first, standing from the couch and announcing that he had to use the bathroom before he drove Kate home.

Kate shifted next, looking for her crutches. She reached out but her petite arm could not grab them from where Ethan had set them down. Grayson stood without a sound to hand them to her, his eyes betrayed his heart by staring at her every chance he had. “Thanks,” she said before propped herself from the couch and coffee table. She balanced herself on her crutches and looked up at him with a weak, meager smile. “I have something for you,” Grayson told her, trying to keep a nonchalant tone with his hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants.

“For me?” Kate’s eyes were painted in strokes of genuine surprise. Grayson nodded, “One second,” he quickly hurried off into the kitchen before coming back to show her. In truth, the concept of being ‘just friends’ confused Grayson to no end. He constantly wondered if he was dressing correctly, joking correctly, and acting correctly to be ‘just friends’ with Kate. Ethan tried to give him advice, saying to treat Kate like he would his other friends. But Grayson knew that his other friends didn’t make him weak at the knees. “Oh Grayson,” Kate cooed, “You’re—That’s so sweet.” Grayson held out one of his brand new, signature Wakeheart candles in scent Healing. He smiled while he placed it on top of the coffee table, in front of her. “It’s my favorite of the bunch,” he shrugged, “I feel bad that you’re still crutching around, and you have to spend so much time in bed waiting to get better. I thought maybe it would help your energy until you’re up again.” The edges of Kate’s eyes pointed downward, “Thank you, really, I can’t wait to tell you what I think.” She gave him a bright smile. Grayson valiantly fought the internal urge to pull her into a kiss and tell her that he loved her.

Kate lit that candle later that night. She smiled while she breathed in the scents of evergreen, mountain air, and citrus. She closed her eyes and wondered if that’s what it smelled like when she and Grayson were tangled up in each other. Her sweet, citrus scents mixed in with his fresh, clean ones.

She pulled out her phone to text Grayson. She had her post-op leg elevated on a mountain of pillow while Planet Earth played on her laptop at the edge of the bed. She laid with a fluffy throw blanket draped over his normal leg and the rest of her body. She thought for a moment before typing out, “I love it! I can feel my scars burning by minute. Thanks for thinking of me Gray” she considered putting an emoji but decided it would make her look too enthusiastic.

As she typed out her note to Grayson, her phone pinged with a text from her grandmother. Kate was particularly close with her grandmother. Her father had left her life at a very young age, leaving her mother, Louise, to parent Kate. Her grandfather had passed from the Earth long before Kate was born, so her grandmother had moved in to help Louise raise Kate. Louise had even petitioned the court to remove Kate’s father’s name from her birth certificate when she was 9, to forever symbolize that Kate was not a Norris, she was a Walker. There were three Walker women in Philadelphia, all tough as nails, clever as a fox, and beautiful as the morning sky: Bethel, Louise, and Kathleen.

Kate smiled at the message from her grandmother, “How are you holding up cookie?” Kate thought for a moment before she texted her grandmother back. The last time she called her family had been before the surgery. She described LA to her mom and grandma, trying to capture both the serene beach and the fast cars. She had strategically forgotten to leave out Grayson.

Laying on that bed, covered in a blanket, with a bandaged foot, and a broken heart Kate desperately wanted to be back in the brownstone she grew up in downtown Philly. She was so lost in her thoughts, that she did not hear her phone ping when Grayson replied to her. She wanted her mother to hold her while her grandmother made pumpkin soup downstairs: when Kate thought really hard, she could remember the way the warm, cinnamon smells would permeate up the stairs, through her bedroom, and into her nostrils.

She looked down and typed out, “I’m holding in. I’m used to post-op life by now. If anything, I miss being home and wish I could see you more. Where I am now just isn’t the same. But I’ll make it, I’m your tough cookie. Could use your soup though.”

She sighed and wondered if there was a restaurant in LA that delivered pumpkin soup. She shook her head, trying not to get lost in nostalgic thoughts. She tapped on her phone to see what Grayson had texted her but did not see it.

It took a few seconds to realize that she had sent that message to Grayson, not her grandmother.

Kate’s eyes went wide as she threw her phone between her hands that were suddenly coated in sweat. She sat up and read what Grayson had responded to her. He had written out, “Glad you like it! I hope it helps with everything ☺️”

Kate read her message again, trying to figure out if there was anything in it that she would hate Grayson having to read.

“I’m holding in. I’m used to post-op life by now.” Okay, that was fine. That was cool. She had probably said something similar to Grayson earlier that day.

“If anything, I miss being home and wish I could see you more. Where I am now just isn’t the same.” Kate sucked in a breath between her teeth. That was confusing, she struggled to figure out if Grayson would be confused or read that as he disdain for the emotional place she was in.

“But I’ll make it, I’m your tough cookie.” Not as bad as the last part, but saying she was “his” tough cookie—that was the definition of problematic.

“Could use your soup though” What the hell would that even mean to Grayson? Was that sexual? Is that what the kids were calling it these days? Kate’s heart dropped when three little dots showed that Grayson was typically. In near hysterics, she slammed her fingers on her phone furiously trying to create sense with words. She settled on the brief, “Sorry that last text was for someone else. The candle is awesome though, so glad you gave it to me.” Grayson’s little dots disappeared from her phone screen. Kate read it again, finding it curt and cold. She threw her phone down on her bed and groaned. Internally, she decided that would just call her grandma next time.

The next day, Grayson surprised Ethan by asking to tag along when Ethan drove Kate to her doctor’s appointment. Ethan had the silent impression that Grayson and Kate were avoiding car rides together. He said yes to Grayson’s request, but felt weird giving his twin permission to accompany his ex-girlfriend to the doctor. Once again, Ethan Dolan was in the middle of whatever was happening between Grayson and Kate.

The car ride to the doctor’s office was filled with a semi-pleasant silence. Ethan had gotten used to chatting with Kate while he drove her to physical therapy, x-rays, and different appointments since her surgery. Sure, he could have asked her to take ubers but, in truth, he had started to both really like her and really care about her. Ethan was impressed by how quick she was, and he found himself thinking about things differently after her commentary. A part of Ethan missed that small talk on this ride.

Sometimes, Ethan would help Kate crutch to the door of the doctor’s office from the parking lot. Today, he stayed inside for fear that Grayson might try to walk in with her. Kate silently thanked Ethan for this, having the same thought herself.

Kate excitedly crutched out of doctor’s office after about 45 minutes. She had ditched her bulky cast, for a thick wrap of bandages and cotton: a small, but welcome upgrade. She nearly bounced into the Tesla, feeling a whole 5 pounds lighter from the lack of her cast. “I graduated,” she said in a high, bubbly voice as she settled into the car. “Congrats,” Ethan smiled at her through the rear-view mirror. “Any word on when you’ll back on your feet?” Grayson turned around in his seat to face her. His heart danced at the sight of her glittering smile and full cheeks.

Kate nodded softly, “Maybe 4 weeks, three if I’m lucky.” “If you’re lucky?” Grayson cocked his head to the side from where he was turned around. “Yeah, if I heal fast. So I should go home right now and light that candle again,” she joked. Grayson smiled; his eyes perked up. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Ethan, “Can we sit down and put on seat belts?” The first half of the Tesla ride back to Kate’s apartment was spent reviewing her diagnosis with the twins. Grayson was impressed when Kate correctly named all of the bones and major tendons involved with the ankle. She went into detail about how her talus had shattered, putting pressure on the cuneiform bones in the front of her foot. The three of them chatted on happily up until Kate shared her plans for the rest of the week.

“I’m going to be moving around a lot tomorrow, so I’m probably going to want to take Thursday and Friday to rest in bed.” She shared in a perky tone.

A tense ball formed in Grayson’s stomach, with the memory of the text that Kate accidentally sent the night before. He picked at the callouses on his hand for a minute, his tongue resting in the corner of his mouth. His curiosity got the best of him, “Who are you going out with tomorrow?” Ethan furrowed his brow, wondering if he had heard his brother correctly. Kate stammered softly, thinking back to what she just said. She looked at the back of Grayson’s head with dubious eyes, “Who?” Grayson nodded, swiping his tongue against his bottom teeth. He rested his hands from where he had been picking at them. His shoulders squared off with the car seat. “Yeah, the person you were texting yesterday. Is that who you’re hanging out with?” Ethan was lost, completely and totally lost—figuratively at least, he thanked the Tesla’s self-driving capabilities for stopping him from getting physically lost.

Kate shook her head from where she said, “I was texting my grandma.” The word made Grayson’s eyes open wide as a pang of guild hit him in the stomach. Kate continued, “What did you think I meant?” “I don’t know, that maybe you were going on a date or something?” Grayson knew how stupid he sounded the minute he finished the sentence. He could have said anything, literally anything else and it would have sounded better. A silence hung in the air for a moment, the only sound coming from the Tesla’s turning signal. Grayson tried to amend his statement by saying, “I thought you were getting back out there?” He wanted to shove his entire first in his mouth and never speak again. “Oh, no,” Kate said, “I just have orientation for my new school.” She admitted shyly, not wanting to talk about whether or not she had tried to move on from Grayson. Grayson’s heart sunk, “Oh, that should be fun.” He wanted to offer her something in return for embarrassing her. “I haven’t been out with anyone,” he admitted. He was disappointed he didn’t feel a sting of embarrassment. “But you have?” Kate’s tone was puzzled.

“No, not since you.” “But you did? That girl? That blonde girl that morning?”

Grayson swore internally a million times. He wanted to bury his head in sand and never see the light of day again. He wanted to bathe in as much holy water as LA county could fit. He ran his hands through his hair, hoping to stimulate his brain into saying something intelligent. He couldn’t find anything worth saying. The trio were silent until they dropped Kate off at her apartment.

Grayson went to bed that night still upset with himself. He wondered why it was so hard to be just friends with someone was wonderful as Kate. But a part of him knew he could never be friends with Kate. She was too much and not enough all at the same time: too much of everything he so desperately wanted in his heart of hearts, but not enough of tender life partner his heart panged for. He felt an internal pressure to make a decision: choose to silently exit Kate’s life or try to win her back. He didn’t sleep a wink that night.

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #youtuber #fanfiction #grayson dolan x oc #romance #fiction #writing #story #ethan dolan #grayson

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 4 years

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Goodnight, Aaron (Aaron Hotchner x OC) Chapter 5

Summary: After being grilled about his ex-girlfriend on what is meant to be a fun birthday outing, Sebastian gets some new information dropped on him by a worn-out Jack.

AN: Sorry I haven't posted in a while! Been a bit busy with job and family stuff. Hope you enjoy this chapter. This chapter is mostly unedited sorry!

Tagging: @sunlight-moonrise, @clean-bands-dirty-stories, @genevievedarcygranger, and @davidrossi-ismydad

Chapter 4 // Masterlist // AO3 Link

“They asked you to coach?”

Sebastian watched Jack run off to warm up with his team, then he turned back to Hotch who clicked the car keys to lock, “Do they know what you do for a living? And they’ve asked you to coach before? Mental.”

Hotch let out a chuckle at how utterly ridiculous Sebastian made it sound. And, truth be told, it was “mental” that Hotch was still coaching his son and their team when he still had to wrangle together his own team back at the BAU.

Sebastian adjusted his bag strap, “You need to learn to say ‘no’ to some people, Aaron.”

Hotch shook his head, playing into that teasing tone that had worked its way ito the conversation, “Well I don’t suppose you would be up for it?”

“I know nothing about football.”

“Soccer.”

“Soccer,” and Hotch laughed at the way Sebastian’s nose wrinkled as he mimicked the accent – albeit with heavy exaggeration on the vowels.

“Dave!”

Hotch’s hand raised into the air, catching the attention of his co-worker. Sebastian felt the pressure crank up to eleven as David Rossi sauntered over. He did not look like he was about to coach little league. He looked like he was about to go to one of his many villas in Europe and lounge around there for two weeks drinking wine.

“David Rossi, this is Sebastian Porter.”

“Jack’s nanny, of course,” Rossi shook his hand heartily. Sebastian immediately wanted Rossi to be the cool uncle he never had.

He couldn’t think of anything wittier to say than this: “And you work with Aaron. On and off the pitch.”

“Couldn’t let him do it alone,”

“My ride’s here, so I’ll see you this evening. Nice meeting you, David.”

Though Sebastian was already behind schedule, he spared himself the embarrassment of his boss watching him lightly jogging over to his companions - and said companions clowning him for said light jogging.

“Aww, a lil peewee match?” Bellamy teased loudly, though not loud enough for the team to hear her.

Sebastian wanted to give her a playful shove, but he didn’t trust that she wouldn’t slide off her rollerblades deliberately, so instead he retorted, “Bullying kids, Bellamy? I thought you couldn’t stoop any lower.”

Klaus stopped rolling back and forth on his BMX, “Which one’s the boss then?”

“Wearing the white polo and shorts, not holding the clipboard.”

Klaus squinted behind his par of wholly unnecessary sunglasses, “Hmm, both are fit.”

“Come on, you’re staring,” and Sebastian twisted Klaus’ baseball cap around backwards before climbing onto the back of the bike.

As Klaus gave an indignant retort, he pushed off and began to cycle away. Sebastian’s hands gripped his shoulders tight and he opted to send a smile in his boss’ direction as opposed to a wave. Bellamy, the embarrassing mom type that she was, waved with both hands and skated backwards as she went.

Their afternoon sesh was off to a rocking start when Sebastian refused even one drink – sticking instead to a diet soda – while Bellamy and Klaus went for bottomless Bellini’s.

Bellamy discussed what children the new term had brought her. A short summary was that they were all little shits whom she adored and would protect with her life. That had been her track record for the part three years she had taught at this high school. The trio clinked glasses in celebration to her track record.

“Honestly, they’re so ready to get to using the Bunsen burners. It’s gonna be bonkers,” She beamed as a server brought her a refilled glass, “Can’t wait to bust out the copper.”

“As much as I love you talking science to me,” Klaus paused to put on a solemn mask that was cracked from the triumph he was wearing beneath, “We have to talk about Pippa while I’m still partially sober.”

When both his friends zeroed in on him whilst sipping their Bellini’s through straws, Sebastian all but exploded with excuses, “Oh my god, I get it! You told me so! It’s been a month! Can we drop it?”

“You went back to her!” Klaus ignored Sebastian’s “I know’s” with his head craning to reach over his friend’s voice, “After everything she did to you! You that desperate for attention?”

“Yeah!”

Both Bellamy and Klaus ceased their teasing, Klaus dropping back into his chair as he said, “Woah, ok, sorry dude.”

“It’s ok.”

Bellamy took Sebastian’s glass away, “Babe, that’s really depressing, you sure you haven’t been drinking?” She took a long sniff, her nose twirling around the rim before sliding it back to Sebastian, “No, he really is that deep.”

“Ha ha.”

Both Bellamy and Klaus sobered up considerably, the tone of their voices shifting into quiet support as Bellamy draped her arm around Sebastian’s shoulders, “I’m glad you got out of it, Bash.”

“Me too. And Rachael.”

“Ooo, how is Rachael?” Klaus pushed his sunglasses up his nose. How he looked like such a douchebag, shades on indoors, yet so happy with that status, Sebastian didn’t care to think about right now.

“She’s got a job in a firm now, big proper one.”

“Oooh! Can she get me out of my parking tickets?”

Suddenly the lights dimmed and Bellamy whipped out her phone, grinning behind it as Klaus looked up and around with a baby’s curiosity.

A troop of servers marched over with the birthday cake Bellamy had dropped off earlier that day. Its bright red buttercream icing Klaus went very quiet, a bashful smile glowing in the candlelight as the restaurant turned its attention to sing “Happy Birthday” to him.

“Happy Birthday, Klaus.” Bellamy and Sebastian kissed both his cheeks at the same time, a perfect photo op that one of the servers took for them.

The birthday boy was gracious enough to share his cake and give Sebastian a ride home after a few more drinks. Of water, Sebastian insisted that Klaus sober up a little so they weren’t going to crash the bike before his night out.

At the crossroads, Bellamy turned left when they went right, her arm stretching out to them like she was watching her loved one get shipped off to war. Sebastian was dropped off shortly after, just outside the block of flats, and Klaus was already off before Sebastian could tackle him with a hug. So he shouted after him. Nothing expletive, but it was enough for Klaus to look over his shoulder and smirk, swerving not a second later to avoid an incoming pedestrian.

When Sebastian entered the flat, Hotch and Rossi were in the sitting room, lounging in the settee over a bottle of whiskey artistically placed on the coffee table.

“Hey, how was the training?”

“Tough, but those kids are tougher.” Rossi raised his drink to his statement, and Sebastian thought about how he could subtly slide some adoption papers across the coffee table.

“Do you want a drink?” Hotch asked.

Already going to the kitchen, Sebastian checked in the stew he’d prepped that morning in the slow cooker, “I’m good, thanks.” He was a little peeved that he’d spent the afternoon sober, especially during the bashing of the ex-girlfriend, but he could always grab a nightcap later on. “Where’s Jack?”

“I SCORED A GOAL!”

Sebastian smile strained as he saw the state of Jack’s shorts once he rounded the corner to the kitchen. His shirt was off; clearly he was in the middle of getting changed.

“That’s brilliant, but if you come at me with them muddy keks, I’ll score a goal with you! Come back in your jammies and we’ll celebrate properly.” And he shooed Jack away to the bathroom. The star striker to be disappeared, his muddy rear skidding into his bedroom with the door closing quick behind him.

“‘Keks’?” Rossi repeated with an eyebrow raised.

So Sebastian clarified, “Trousers.”

“You mean pants.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at Hotch’s so-called correction before saying again, “No, keks.”

Thankfully they saw the funny side of it, allowing a hint of strain to drop from Sebastian’s shoulders just in time for Jack to come running back in. This time, he was wearing pyjamas.

Sebastian caught him neatly and plonked him on the countertop, “Tell me all about practice!”

As Sebastian prepared the rest of dinner, Jack babbled away about the training and his teammates. His energy by comparison to the other conversation between Hotch and Rossi caused theirs to stagnate in favour of joining in. Sebastian carried Jack across to the other counters without impeding his speech, keeping an eye on him and the food, while Hotch and Rossi joined in the storytelling.

At Jack’s description of Hotch and Rossi’s demonstration of a paired-up passing game, Sebastian’s abandoned phone began to buzz.

“Sorry Jack, I gotta get this. But why don’t you set the table?” Sebastian took him back down to Earth and shuffled him in the direction of the cutlery drawer before he picked up his mobile, “Hey, what are you doing up? Go to bed, young lady.”

Rachael replied with a heftier helping of snarkasm, “I’m in bed at the moment actually. Have you rung Mum and Dad yet?”

“I have, don’t worry,”

“Ok. Just checking.”

“Texting exists, you know? Not that I don’t delight at the sound of your grumpiness.”

“Yeah, well, you’re starting to sound more American.”

Casting an eye over to see Jack was nattering away to Hotch and Rossi, Sebastian whispered, “Shut your goddamn mouth.”

“I’ll call you after work. Love you, bye.”

“Bye.”

Sebastian hung up then slapped his free palm against his face.

Hotch caught his attention, leaning ever so slightly into his range of vision with concern, “Are you alright?”

“Forgot to say I love you, she’s gonna hold that against me for five years at least.”

As the person dishing up and the last to get to the table, Sebastian sat beside Rossi with Jack opposite him and Hotch diagonally across. There was a tautness in Sebastian’s back as he tried desperately not to gauge Rossi’s reaction to his food.

Instead Rossi reminded him of their meeting earlier, “Interesting choice in mode of transport today.”

Like a deer in the headlights, Sebastian tripped his way through his explanation, “Thanks, we’re desperately trying to reclaim our youth.” Then he popped a forkful of meat into his mouth to excuse him from further conversation.

Except Jack didn’t get the memo. “Who were you talking to on the phone?”

“My sister, Rachael, she’s got a big case on tomorrow.”

“She’s a lawyer,” Rossi pointed across the table with his fork, “Hotch was a defence attorney.”

The information was so shiny and new to Sebastian, that he forgot to implement his “you’re my boss” filter and he said, “You look for ‘intimidating’ in your job descriptions?”

No time for regret, Jack once against filled the space. “Intimidating?”

“Yeah, intimidating, big into justice, likes his suit,” and instead of back down, Sebastian leant over his plate as if to tell a secret, and Jack opposite him leant close too as Sebastian said, “Your dad’s basically Batman.”

Jack’s face lit up at the comparison, one he had made in the past, and he continued to grin as he ate his stew.

“Anyway, our kid’s following up on some advice about getting my deposit back from my bedsit. Landlord’s being an absolute bad word.”

“If you want, I can take a look at it,” Hotch offered.

Sebastian looked back at Jack with fond bemusement, “Told you, your dad’s Batman, just no billions minus the brutality.”

Hotch’s cutlery slipped and collided loudly with his plate as Sebastian said, “It’s all good, thank you. I just sent him some photos of what the mattress looked like when I first moved in, should get him to give up.”

The conversation stagnated from Sebastian, still worn out word-wise from his afternoon drinking non-drinking outing, so he was grateful for the fact he finished first and Jack finished second.

“We can leave the grown-ups now,” he said in a loud whisper, already walking off with Jack to his bedroom.

Over his shoulder, he heard Rossi say not so quietly an I-told-you-so about how “men can be nannies” and that Sebastian was a good choice. While Sebastian was relieved at he had made a good impression on Rossi, he was not so much feeling the inferred sexism his boss held. Still, he was hired now. Microaggressions could be tackled when he got to them.

Cross-legged on the carpet, Jack set about demolishing the rocket. Bricks flew across his little zone of construction. One stray red brick hit Sebastian right between his sock and his cuffed jeans.

“What are we on today, bud? Pirate ship?”

But Jack was quiet. His energy levels were definitely crashing after such a big day. Sebastian gave him space to answer if he wanted, taking charge of organising the bricks into sizes for Jack to pick from.

When there was no reply for a solid minute, Sebastian asked, “You ok?”

For a while, Jack continued his silence. He was busy looking for a very specific shape of brick. His fingers searched over the top of the pile then dove into it, fishing out the perfect piece. Then he spoke.

“Batman beats up the bad guys,” Jack said, his voice hushed, “But so does Daddy.”

Sebastian blinked then recovered just as quick, “Oh I’m not sure about that.”

But Jack shook his head with his eyes still on assembling his boat, “He beat up the man who killed Mommy. Don’t tell him, it’s a secret.”

“A secret from him?” Sebastian didn’t know he was whispering too until he had already spoken.

“He doesn’t know we know. Can you make the mast please?”

And Jack held out a square block. Sebastian blinked again and accepted the piece. Clearly Jack thought this was a very casual conversation, something that Sebastian should keep from Hotch very easily. And he was making a ship.

“Jack, have you told that to anyone else?”

“No.”

“How tall do you want the mast?”

Jack measured with the space between his hands. Taking note, Sebastian continued to stack bricks until the desired height was reached, and Jack took it off his hands, placing it in the middle of the boat.

“I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want anything?”

The little guy shook his head, now completely absorbed in his construction projects. With a pat on his head, Sebastian twisted his legs around to stand and went to stand in the hallway. The door closed behind him and he pressed his forehead against the wall. He took a deep breath, rolling his head to the left, and pushed back his shoulders. A crack from his neck introduced him to the kitchen, where he tossed a half smile at Hotch and Rossi. Then he busied himself with getting that drink. A few drops of water splashed against his wrist.

“Hey Sebastian?”

Said person looked around to see Rossi rocking on the back legs of his chair, “I don’t suppose Hotch ever told you that, when you were taking your trial day, he nearly called you every hour to see how you were doing?”

“Dave,” Hotch said with something that was clearly intended to be a warning tone. The smile he was fighting to keep off his face betrayed him.

“No, he didn’t.” He hid his smirk in his glass. It dropped fast though. The Batman comments were still heavy in his mind, and now with Jack’s context on the brutality aspect, he wasn’t really jazzed to crack another joke lest he stumble across some more unfortunate information.

Rossi didn’t seem to care about that so much, “I had to micromanage his micromanaging.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t’ve minded that.” Sebastian’s foot idly dragged across the tile in front of him, “I’m sure Jack wouldn’t’ve either. And speaking of-” He pulled out his phone and pulled up the website he and Jack had browsed during breakfast, “I have a very important question for you: can we get this bouncy castle for Jack’s birthday?”

He showed the photo of the dream castle to the two men.

“You mean a ‘bounce house’?”

“No, I mean bouncy castle. He was telling me all about wanting a slide one, he’d be over the moon if he got to bring his classmates around to go on one!”

“I suppose if we removed all my furniture and knocked down the walls, we could fit it in here,” Hotch said smartly. His eyebrows were raised as he looked away from the screen at Sebastian, who snorted. God, it wasn’t even that funny.

Once again, Rossi chimed in with his brilliant contributions, saving Sebastian from utter shame, “You know, we could have the party at my home.”

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