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seravphs · 11 months

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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — KNIGHT! GOJO x PRINCESS! FEM READER

Gojo has devoted his entire life to protecting you as your dedicated guard. A greater force is conspiring to keep you apart.

wc — 3.7k

tags — royal au, childhood friends, forbidden love, protective Gojo, sneaking around/flouting social etiquette, period drama-esque tension between repressed princess and rakish knight, mutually possessive, title from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

part 1 of the hand which holds the knife

Everyone knew Satoru Gojo was supposed to be yours.

You claimed him the day you knighted him. He wore your colors and answered to your demands. The physical evidence of your ownership was all over him, the way someone would mark a well loved pet. Even the neck of his jacket carried your embroidery like a collar. To anyone with eyes, he was your adored guard dog.

When all of your memories blur into one stream of consciousness, the day you knighted him remains clear. You remember everything, including your father stealing him out from under you.

You were the only one who truly thought he was ever going to be yours. It was part of the promise you had sworn to each other as children, playing princess and the guard with wooden swords and flower crowns.

Looking back, you can see the gears of court machinations turning. It was no simple coincidence that the only heir to House Gojo ended up in close proximity to you, any more than any other of your introductions to sons of highborn houses.

Gojo has no interest in pretending to be a prince. It was boring for him to be trapped in restricting uniforms complete with epaulets. He found more pleasure in protecting you from danger while you preened in your gilded cage, none the wiser through his efforts. Safe and unaware, the way he liked it. You would never have to know how dangerous the world was if he simply destroyed everything in your path before it got to you.

You didn’t understand the way the adults looked at the two of you. All you knew was that you couldn’t bear to be apart from him. You rose each morning looking for him, and went to bed waiting for the minute you’d be reunited again. He was your whole world, your one and only friend. It was his hand that guided you through childhood adventures. He was the sword and shield that had cut down kidnappers and serpents for you.

The first wedge in your relationship comes with his twelfth birthday.

You chase his back through the years, watching it broaden in front of your eyes. His body changes. His voice drops. The first time you hear it after the pitchy squeaks of puberty clear from his throat, you feel the sickening wrench of something in your stomach. It had never mattered before that Gojo was a man, potentially your betrothed.

Now it burns you to look at him. He became gorgeous while you weren’t looking, all long willowy limbs and snow white hair. The women of the court have started looking at him now. They call him the beautiful dragon, after his house crest.

Even though you know reasonably that you can do nothing about this, really, you have no right to, that galls you. You’re a princess. You’re used to being able to deal with things that upset you with little more than a nod to Gojo. But he can’t solve issues that he’s the root of.

The only way to show everyone that Gojo’s devotion belongs to you is to tie him to your side. At twelve, he’s already the strongest squire in the entire kingdom. Better than most knights, even. It’s a clear path to being the greatest knight of his time, throughout all of history, even. He already promised to be your sword when you were children. All you have to do is wait.

Gojo trains and you begin to learn the extent of your royal responsibilities. Study etiquette. Marry well. Become a dutiful wife. Give the king heirs.

Gojo becomes Lord Gojo. He calls you princess now. Although part of you rebels at the idea that he would ever call you anything other than your name, another part of you can’t help the queasy feeling you get when he says your title, low and soft. Like he means it for your ears only. Like princess is just another way of showing how much of him is yours.

Gojo is not usually a proud man because he doesn’t have to be. His abilities speak for himself. But he’s cocky to a fault. He knows the extent of his capabilities, which means he won’t capitulate to anyone. Why would he?

When it comes to you, however, he bends his neck and accepts the collar willingly. The strongest can only be tamed by what he allows to tame him and it’s you, it’s always been you.

Perhaps that’s why things turn out the way they do on the day you knight him.

Or, as you find out later, your father knights him.

It was the day after your sixteenth birthday. Gojo himself had turned seventeen three months and six days before. It was strangely old for a boy of his caliber. He was so talented he could’ve been the youngest knight in the realm, but no one could make Gojo do something he didn’t want to do.

There was no shame in it, either. Everyone knew Gojo was too talented and well-connected for it to be anything other than his own choice. The only heir of House Gojo, he was destined to become a knight even if he did nothing to earn it. And he had done much to earn it.

Winning wars single handedly tended to do that. There were already legends blooming from the battlefield by the time he came home and tossed the unlucky enemy commander’s head at the king’s feat. His bow wasn’t nearly low or respectful enough to be addressed to the king, but he had been lighter-hearted back then, more willing to forgive.

Especially for Gojo, who had cut a killing swathe through the ranks of the opposing army so ruthlessly they began to call him a god of death.

Gojo kneels at your feet, his white head still high. He’s a little too tall for you, even at this angle. Lord Commander Yaga clears his throat. Gojo looks up through the wisps of hair that have escaped to obscure his eyes. They’re piercing, an attractively violent blue.

“I’m sorry,” he says, so low no one else could’ve heard the two of you even if you hadn’t been standing alone on the podium in front of the king’s throne. “Am I too tall for you now, princess?”

“Don’t tease,” you whisper back, flustered despite yourself. The pommel of the sword is clammy in your grip. You’re scared to drop it and accidentally take a finger off with it.

You’re taking too long. It’s making you anxious. You’re distinctly aware of your father’s stare boring into your back. You’ve been sheltered since you were young by your father’s paranoia, but he’s recently begun letting you apply yourself more to your royal duties. You can’t give him any reason to doubt you.

Gojo dips a little lower.

With this change in angle, you can place the flat of the blade on each of his shoulders. It’s your father’s sword, too large and unwieldy in your hands. Standing over Gojo is a strange experience. It’s uncomfortable looking down on someone who’s been taller than you for all your life.

You wish he would stop looking at you like that. His gaze is searching. You feel naked underneath it, even with layers of dresses on. When he says his vows, it feels intimate, like he’s speaking them to you. For you.

Gojo rises, shaking his hair out of his eyes like a shaggy dog. Like this, you’re reminded suddenly of how strong he is. His shoulders are broad underneath his silver armor. Lean muscle cords his legs. There’s an easy, effortless grace to the way he moves - the confidence of a man who has never been bested in his entire life.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. He’s still standing too close. If it were any other man, your father would have demanded he be whipped by now, but Gojo has always gotten away with things no one could. He ducks his head so he can speak directly into your ear - dangerous, even for him. He says his piece fast. “I’ll see you in your rooms, my lady.”

Then he pulls back.

There are thunderclouds gathering across the king’s face, but when you shake your head, your father relents. He smiles and kisses your temple as you climb up the steps of the platform of his throne to return the sword to him.

Years later, you learn that the moment you leave the throne room, your shoulders sure with the knowledge that Gojo is finally secure in your grasp, your father takes up the sword you had held and knights him. Princesses have no authority to confer knighthood. Only kings.

You know your father means well. He loves you. You’re all he has left. If Gojo pushed for your hand to be one that he swears loyalty to first, then your father would have been happy to comply either way. You just wish you would’ve known that it meant nothing.

There’s a sharp rap on your door, followed by two short, one long. A code you had devised a long time ago. You pull open the door and Gojo all but falls into your room. He’s pressed up against you, front to front as he closes the door behind him, tumbling you into your bed.

“Hi, princess,” he says, his breath warm against your neck. You squirm in his hold, feeling heat rush through your veins. It’s getting harder and harder to hide the way he affects you, but you don’t want anything to change between the two of you. Though sometimes, you swear Gojo likes using your title so much precisely because he knows how you react to it.

“We have to stop doing this,” you tell him, like you tell him every time. “It’s inappropriate.”

He groans and pushes away from you. You mourn the loss of contact. “Come on, don’t make me do this again. Who cares if it’s inappropriate? Who says?”

“Dame Zenin thinks we’re too close.”

“Dame Zenin is an idiot,” Gojo says. “You know she only says that because she wants to get rid of me so you’ll look at Naoya. As if you would ever, even if I was gone.”

“Still.”

Gojo grabs your chin in his hand. “You are a princess and I am the only heir to House Gojo. We bow to no one, understand? What right do mice have to judge dragons?”

He’s the dragon, you think. Your crest is the rose. You exist to be judged. That’s the role of a princess.

Gojo sprawls out on your bed. He’s so tall he takes up more than half of it, even though your bed was built to be more than twice your size. His eyes are shut, his long white lashes soft. He looks gentle in repose, almost like a lamb with his coloring.

He’s beautiful. He always is. You want to touch, to hold, to claim. You want to press your ear against his chest and steal the thunderous beat of his heart for your own. You want to press your rouged lips to his neck and collarbones, to mark his body with a muted rose.

Instead, you sit stiff, prim and proper.

He opens his eyes. “Come here,” he says, his arm reaching for you. You let him pull you closer.

As always, he has to reach out first. You can’t allow yourself to take what you want. It’s not in your nature, the way you were raised.

You bury your face into the space between his neck and his shoulder.

“There we go,” he coos. Your face burns with the condescension of it, the way he treats you like an animal that has to be carefully coaxed closer. But he’s not wrong, and that’s why you let him pet you into submission, gently stroking your sides as he tangles his legs with yours.

You were never so affected by him as children. Somewhere along the way, Gojo had become unmanageable to you, and you don’t know what to do about it.

“Stay with me,” he murmurs against your hair. “Where are you going off to in that pretty head of yours?”

“I’m with you,” you whisper against his neck. “I’m always here.”

You’ve spoiled him, you think. When you were a child, you didn’t know any better. Gojo was just Gojo. Letting him stay by your side even as you got older was an indulgence that he now pushes the limits of. He’s never cared about propriety.

“You have to go back to your room now,” you whisper reluctantly. You’re always the more cautious one of your duo. It’s been too long. Someone will become suspicious. For once, you wish you could just let go of your worries, but someone has to check Gojo. If both of you just did whatever you wanted, it’d be the ruin of your houses. This is how it has to be: Gojo pushes and you pull back.

The dim light of the dying candles make his blue eyes appear black. “Give me something of yours first,” he says.

You know what he’s asking for. You climb up from the bed and go into your dresser to search, turning up one of your handkerchiefs. It bears the colors of your house and your careful embroidery.

He kneels at your feet.

“Stop,” you say, trying to pull away.

Gojo presses a kiss to your hand. His lips are soft against the skin of your hand, temptation incarnate. Your fingers tremble lightly in his grasp, torn between wanting to seize him and wanting to run away. The enormity of your desire for him terrifies you. If you ever let him in for one second, you can see how easy your descent would be.

“I’m yours, princess. Don’t forget it.”

With that, he ties your favor around his wrist and finally leaves you to your room, panting like you’d run through the halls. No matter how old you get, Gojo always leads in your interactions. He plays with you, enjoying the way he can make you react to him.

It’s normal for a princess to visit the training yard, you try to convince yourself the next day. There’s nothing strange about stopping by while you’re on your afternoon walk. After all, you should keep abreast of everything within your castle.

Gojo stands in the center of the yard. He’s demonstrating one of his self created drills, a complicated set of maneuvers only he can pull off. In short, he’s showing off while pretending like he’s doing the class a favor by trying to teach them something.

Lord Commander Yaga notices you the moment you set foot in the yard. You should expect it. After all, it’s his territory.

“Attention,” he bellows. “The princess is here.”

Gojo perks up and finishes his final set of movements even faster. He throws his sword carelessly to the side, leaving a young squire scrambling to catch the priceless weapon as he strides towards you.

He’s a little sweaty. You want to wrap your arms around him anyways, but you restrain yourself.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” you say.

Gojo grins at you. It’s a sharp thing, his smile, hungry and wolfish. “Not at all. I was just thinking of you, my lady.”

You tilt your head at him curiously.

Around you, the men are scrambling to line up into neat little rows.

“I’m picking a squire,” Gojo says. “Would you like to make the decision for me?”

It’s a question that shocks you. You whirl to look at him again, see if he’s joking like usual, but he seems perfectly serious. “I don’t know anything about knighthood,” you tell him the truth.

He moves closer. You’re tempted to step back immediately, but you don’t. You don’t want a sign of discomfort to be misinterpreted and used against him. Besides, you relish the proximity. Seeing Gojo in public feels like dancing on blades. The adrenaline terrifies you, but you can’t stop wanting more of it.

“You may not, but you know people. I trust your judgement.”

A cursory scan of the boys in front of you reveals little. They’re all stiff and proper, their backs as straight as they can make them. Some stand with their arms glued to their sides, others fidget with their swords. Every single one of them is eager for the chance to be acknowledged by the princess. They’re equally hopeful for the chance to squire for the greatest knight in the kingdom.

None of them catch your eye on the first or second passes.

Only on the third, a boy with pink hair smiles at you. It’s such a small gesture. But for a boy who had looked just like everyone else at first, the toothy smile splits his features. It opens him up. He looks kind.

You gesture him forward.

Lord Commander Yaga nods approvingly. “Itadori is a good one, Your Royal Highness. He’s one of the best in this batch. Naturally strong, but just as hardworking.”

“See,” Gojo says. “I knew you would choose well.”

He touches your hand briefly, slipping a white scrap of paper inside your closed fist before he grabs Itadori by the shoulder and hauls him off for further training. Although disappointed, the other squires still look starstruck to be in his presence, though Yaga disperses them all to train themselves soon enough.

In elegant cursive, Gojo has written a time and place.

You shouldn’t go.

You can’t risk it.

All eyes are on you and Gojo as it is. People already suspect the two of you of something unsavory. Courtly love is one thing, but you and Gojo are too close for an unmarried man and a woman. As a princess, your sole purpose is to marry well and bring alliances to your house. You can’t risk damaging your reputation.

But every stolen encounter with Gojo steals your breath away. You sneak through the halls, quiet and empty.

A hand slaps over your mouth before you can scream as someone tugs you into a dark corridor.

You kick and lash out, forgetting everything Gojo has taught you in favor of blind violence.

“Shh,” comes a voice in your ear. “It’s just me.”

You bite him.

He hisses and pulls back, shaking out his hand. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Why would you do that? You scared me!”

“You’re not careful enough, princess. There was a maid coming up on your left that you hadn’t even noticed.”

You sigh and lean into him. You can’t help it.

He laughs. “Are you that happy to see me?”

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll show you exactly how happy I am.”

“Come on,” he tugs you out towards the gardens. It’s dangerous, but you follow him anyway. Being with Gojo is so threatening not despite his strength, but because of it. You rely on him too easily, trusting him to see you safely through any peril. It’s easy to relax when he’s with you, his presence the promise of security.

You expect him to tell you why he called you here, but he’s silent when he tugs you down on the bench next to him.

“Gojo?”

“Here,” he says, opening his hands. A single crushed violet sits on his palm. You laugh, picking it up and raising to your eye. It’s all the more fragrant because it has been mangled, the delicate petals bruised.

Gojo’s mouth lifts in a smile, too. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t realize.”

“You really know how to win a girl’s heart,” you tease.

“Hopefully I know how to win over her father’s, too.”

You freeze.

“I’m sorry. I can’t wait any longer. I’m going to ask your father to be your dedicated knight tomorrow. Do I have your permission?”

You hesitate, worrying your lip with your teeth, but Gojo understands. Years of watching after you, bandaging your scrapes that you refuse to cry over or avenging your honor after you pretend your pride hasn’t been hurt has taught him a lot. He can see right through you. You never need to hide when you’re with him.

“It’s alright,” he says. “We can wait.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to be my guard,” you say in a small voice. “I just-”

“I know,” he says. “But I’m the strongest. Who else would your father ask to protect you but me?”

“Do you think he’ll say yes?”

Gojo looks at you seriously. “I’ll get down on both knees and beg him if I have to.”

“Don’t do that,” you gasp.

“I don’t care,” he says. “You’re what’s most important to me. More than pride, more than honor. Can I ask your father for you?”

You look at the crushed violet in your hand.

Who else but Gojo?

You press the flower back into his palm. “I trust you to do what’s right.”

His eyes soften. He leans closer.

“Gojo,” comes a voice. “What are you doing in the gardens this late at night?”

You stiffen. The owner of the voice is drawing closer.

“Do you trust me?” Gojo asks, as cool and collected as ever.

You nod, not trusting your voice not to give you away. He cups your face in his hands and ever so delicately presses a light kiss to your cheek, tilting his head towards you.

“Stop,” he tells the man behind you. “Don’t come any closer. You’ll scare her.”

“A new plaything?” Asks the Lord Commander. “I’m not so scary, am I?”

Gojo notices you tremble harder. He lifts a hand to the back of your head and presses it gently towards his shoulder, obscuring your face even further. “Come here, darling,” he murmurs. “That’s right, what a good little thing,” he says as you press yourself into him. He pulls you over his lap, your legs straddling his waist as he runs his hand up and down your back. “Keep your head down,” he whispers to you. You tuck your face farther into the crook of his neck.

Louder, he responds to Yaga. “The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard is a terrifying man, or so I’ve heard.”

“Just escort her to her room when you’re done,” Yaga says gruffly. “I don’t need to tell you to be a gentleman, do I?”

“No, sir,” Gojo says cheerfully.

In hindsight, you’re still not sure if Yaga recognized you or not. On one hand, he’s known you since you were a child. He watched, a silent guard, as your father raised you. On the other hand, he’s never brought it up to you.

The only other reason you suspect he realized who you really were was Gojo’s induction into the kingsguard the very next day.

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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mastermindmiko · 6 months

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Muggle world hideout

Pairing: Regulus Black + fem!reader

Word count: 6232

Summary: After stealing Voldemort's horcrux, Regulus seeks shelter as a normal boy in the muggle world.

Warnings: smut, hiding out from death eaters? kissing, teachers, university classes

an: it was time to have a regulus one out there

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist

The bus ride throughout muggle London was always dull. He doesn’t regret the decision he’s made but he was still among magic; or at least some aspects of it. He had previously weighed his options and this was the best one; he still stands by this decision. He acquired the horcrux and from his first attempt to destroy it, Voldemort found out about his wishes and knowledge. He ran to muggle London to find a way to destroy it under a secret identity. It has been a month and no one from the wizarding world has found him. He knew he would be well hidden here.

One of the ways for him to stay under a normal teen identity was to do the same things that they do. At his age, muggle children usually go to university. He knew of no such thing, he assumed it was the muggle NEWTs; considering that he found out that OWLs are similar to O levels. However, he needed to blend in; so he decided to do the same. He had bought a flat in a random place, in the city. His father died a bit before he acquired the horcrux, so had his inheritance money. He had a lot of it, and considering that one sickle is almost six euros; he didn’t have to worry about running out of money any time soon.

After a lot of research and awkward interactions from his neighbor -the same one that told him about universities and o levels-, he found a university. He applied late -as they told him- and after a lot of persuasion they agreed to let him enter. He just needed to tell them what his major should be on the first day, which just so happened to be today.

He sat in the back, right corner of the bus; and he felt the bus stop once again. He thought it was the last stop considering that there were only two seats empty, both of which were beside him. He looked out the window to approve his assumptions and he saw the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. She stood up and he found himself mentally chanting, hoping that she would get on the bus. He didn’t know why he did that, the fact was almost completely confirmed without his manifestations. When she stepped inside, he had a neutral facial expression; but his heart was leaping. It never had done that before.

He had no one idea what to pursue, he knew that the war wasn’t ending any time soon; and that his money wasn’t infinite. So he had to find a muggle job. He couldn’t tell them about his excellence and liking for potions, therefore he was stumped. He had no idea what muggle majors are, was there some type of auror?

The bus ride to the university was dull. They kept stopping at what he assumed were bus stops, and the people were less than friendly. The people reminded him of the families that were at his parents’ balls. They looked at his clothes weirdly, even though what he was wearing was considered very fashionable. He ignored their gazes, looking poised. He had many years to learn that skill, and he intends to use it.

You sat in your usual seat, beck, left corner in the bus. You saw the most gorgeous man, one seat away from yours. He was looking at you and the sun covered half his face, if anything it added to his beauty. You were most intrigued by the scar he had above his eyebrow and it looked painful. You averted your gaze from the scar, you didn’t want to seem rude. He was wearing odd clothes, but you were sure that they were incredibly luxurious and up to trend about a hundred years ago. You had found yourself a history geek and you couldn’t say you weren’t one. Finally assessing his gaze on you, you smiled at him. He didn’t return it, but you could see the corners of his lips turn up slightly.

You sat down, and you got out your poetry book. You started reading William Blake’s poems. You were supposed to pick your favorite poem and write an essay about it, filled with everything you could possibly talk about; concerning the poem. The assignment was given at the orientation to be handed in at the first session of the Poetry course. Your mind couldn’t fathom the beautiful words of ‘Auguries of Innocence’ due to the new presence of the pretty boy beside you.

“What’s your major?” He asked, looking at you. The unfamiliar words tasted weird on his tongue. There were a few beats of silence until he raised his eyebrow and you realized he was talking to you. “Um, English Literature and Political Science.” You answered. You weren’t able to pick between the two, so you simply chose both.

“That’s two?”

You hummed melodically indicating a yes and he nodded in understanding. He looked out the window and you contemplated either mirroring his actions or adding more to the conversation, though you could hardly call it that. “What about you?” you asked as you watched him write something down on a piece of paper. The way he held his pen was abnormal, but you paid no mind to it.

“Same thing.” He replied, he finished writing his chosen major on the paper. He was sure that if he didn’t write it, he would forget it. It was a weird invention, the pen. It was much more practical, he agreed with that; but he wasn’t used it. Therefore, he kept reaching out to dip it in ink, when there wasn't any. He had to remind himself that the ink was in the pen and that he couldn’t just take out a quill and ink pot.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the answer. You enjoyed the thought of being able to see his pretty face, but how had you not seen him before. You cracked your mind for answers, and then you asked, “Were you at the orientation?”

“No, I applied late.” There were no orientations at Hogwarts, he didn’t know such a thing existed; until the people at the admissions office told him that he missed it. You bit the insides of your cheeks and you nodded. You were able to take a hint, he was giving you short answers so he obviously didn’t want to talk to you. Suddenly, the unattractive scenery outside the bus seemed much more appealing; even though you had seen this road a million times before.

“What’s that?” He nodded towards the blank paper and book on your lap. You looked at them quickly then back at him. “That’s um the assignment that’s due today.” You said slowly, then added “That I didn’t do.” You heard a noise that sounded like a laugh, but you weren’t sure from how quickly it went and came.

“Am I supposed to do this assignment?” You nodded your head as a reply. You looked at the empty seat between you both, and said “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

You took the seat and you started to explain the task. You found out that ‘Regulus’ -you complimented his name when you found out- is taking the same courses as you are. He was scribbling some things down furiously, but you paid no mind to it. You offered to take a tour around campus and he agreed. As Regulus sat in the bus with you, he thought that maybe bus rides wouldn’t be as dull anymore.

***

“We have exactly 15 minutes until class starts.” You said as you checked your wrist watch. You were sitting on one of the benches surrounded by greenery. “You should probably head to the class, you wouldn’t want to be late on your first day.”

“Isn’t this your first day too?” Regulus said as he finished writing his essay, cleanly on another piece of paper. He insisted that he doesn’t hand in the scribbling paper that he used for the first draft of his paper. He finished writing his essay down freshly and he chose the poem ‘London’.

You nodded as you stood up “Yeah, but I’m not really punctual so I’m going to be late a lot throughout the year. I wouldn’t want to give the teacher expectations, so might as well be late from the start.” You smiled at him when you finished the sentence. In the past hour and a half you’ve grown quite both fond and comfortable with Regulus.

“I’ll save a seat for you.” He said, as he placed his essay in his bag. You nodded as thanks, and you started walking away from him. “See you in class!” You shouted even though you were not far enough for him to not hear you if you spoke normally. You winked at him then spun around to talk to other people around you. His heart skipped but he paid no mind to it as he walked around to find the room that he’s supposed to be in.

When he finally found the classroom he sat on one of the chairs in the middle, and he placed his book bag beside him to save you a seat. The teacher had already started talking about the overview of the course. She also stated how much he hates people who don’t take their classes seriously and Regulus assumed that you were in trouble.

You stumbled into the classroom and the teacher stopped talking to look at you disapprovingly. “Sorry, I’m late” The teacher hummed and you started walking to your seat. “The essay, if you remembered.”

You spun around taking your essay out of your bag and handing it to the teacher. She looked at it with a raised eyebrow. The handwriting was messy and ink was spilled around it, anyone could barely tell where a paragraph starts and ends. She could tell you finished it late, and she assumed that you were late because you were finishing it. She took it from your hands and placed it on her desk. Your eyes scanned the room for Regulus and you found him and the empty seat beside him. You walked to him and sat beside him.

“Not a very good first impression is it?” He leaned closer to you and he looked at you as the teacher started talking once again. You turned your head to look at him and you smirked. You shrugged your shoulders as you realised your faces were close, too close. You saw his eyes trail down to your lips and you bit the inside of your cheek.

“I do not tolerate laziness and people who don’t take assignments seriously.” You looked at the teacher and you found out that she was looking at you. Regulus snickered slightly so when the teacher averted her gaze from you, you elbowed him roughly.

You leaned to whisper something in his ear, “What are you doing tonight?” You looked at him, hopefully. You had some ideas planned, if he wasn’t free today; maybe he’d be free someday else.

He looked at you and said “Nothing that can’t be rescheduled.” You smiled and you looked back at your notes. You scribbled an invite on the sticky note and then you discreetly placed it on Regulus’ desk. He furrowed his eyebrows then he read your note. A smile was on his face when he nodded. You returned the smile. You had something to do today.

His robes were completely wet as was his hair. He was, however, most sad about his ruined ice cream. When it started raining both of you headed inside the closest shop and it happened to be an ice cream shop. You ordered Vanilla and Regulus ordered Chocolate. He seemed cautious tasting the dessert but he liked it so much, he ordered another cone. He paid for both of you and you thanked him as you enjoyed your dessert.

***

You were walking down the road with Regulus beside you. You both had ice cream in your hands. The world smelt like petrichor, because of how it rained today. The busses and cars’ wheels were splashing around in the water and you were careful not to get soaked. You couldn’t say the same thing about Regulus. He was closer to the street, and you couldn’t say that you didn’t put him there on purpose.

After the rain settled you decided to head to the next stop on your journey, which Regulus didn’t know. You were surprised at the courage he had following you around, not asking where you’re even heading. It seemed weird to you, how both of you could get so close without even knowing each other for a decent 12 hours.

He looked at his soaked ice cream with sadness, but the scene was still hilarious. He heard you burst out laughing at how he looked. He could only imagine how he must’ve looked. He looked in envy at your completely dry tasty looking ice cream, but he laughed at the situation shortly after. He loved your laughs, he was sure he never heard anything as beautiful. It seemed ironic the situation that he was in. In all of his years he never even so much looked at a person in a romantic aspect even though he had the chance to do so on multiple occasions. However, now, not even having spent a day with you, he feels like he’s falling hard. He’s still slightly grateful that meeting you happened now, when he believed that pureblood supremacy was complete bullshit. The last thing he could’ve wanted is meeting you when he had all this pent up prejudice, and pushing you away.

After both your laughter died down, you made a change in plan. Instead of going to the movies now, you’ll go to the clothes shop. You spun around and started to go in the opposite direction. He was surprised and quickly tried to reach in step with you. He asked “Where are we going?”

“I’m abducting you.” You said with a smirk. A flash of fear flashed through his eyes, and you quickly added, “You just finally asked where I’m taking you. We’re going to the clothes shop.”

He raised one eyebrow and he asked “Why would we do that?”

“Well because you said you didn’t want to attract any attention-” You started as you recalled the conversation you had with him while you were showing him the campus. “And let me tell you with the clothes that you’re wearing, you couldn’t attract any more attention. Honestly, where did you live before uni? The 17th century!”

He laughed at your statement, and he let you continue. “So we’re going to get you some normal clothes.” He nodded along with you and he placed his clean spoon in his pocket along with his other hand. You suddenly put your hand out in front of you and he looked at you in confusion. You motioned for him to give you whatever he hand, and he gave you his spoon. You placed it in your ice cream as you said “Eat it with me-” You saw him open his mouth to protest but you said “You paid the least I could do is let you eat with me, considering the tragic death of your own ice cream.”

He chuckled and proceeded to do exactly that. You both eating together cause you both to be close to each other. Somewhere along the road Regulus decided that bumping arms wasn’t comfortable for him anymore so he linked your arms together. You were glad that it was night time so he couldn’t see your face flush.

“Yes.”

***

The next session, you were actually late. You tried to enter the class discreetly, but you were stopped by the teacher. “Miss Y/L/N”

“Do you think this class is a joke? Why are you late again? This is going into your file-” the teacher rambled more about your lack of punctuality but after a lot of experience you learned how to tune teachers out quite well. You were smart and you knew that. You just didn’t enjoy doing the homework and you had a problem with time. Time is relative, so why is she making a big deal out of this?

You heard silence so you managed to reply with the same answer that seemed to satisfy every teacher. “I’m sorry, I’ll try harder next time.” You learned that there was no use of fighting with teachers like this. You heard a few people chuckle lightly. They were with you in other courses, so they heard you answer this many times before. They weren’t surprised in the slightest.

She hummed, approving of your answer and you couldn’t help but smirk. She motioned for you to sit and you walked to your place that Regulus once again saved for you. He looked great in the clothes you helped him pick out, then again he would look good in a potato sack. You smiled at him and he gave you a tight lipped smile. You queried your eyebrow, questioning his weird attitude. He lifted his paper and he showed you a D on the essay he did. You gave him a sympathetic smile and you looked on your desk, you couldn’t find your essay anywhere.

Regulus placed a sticky note on your desk, and it said ‘can you tutor me?’ You looked at him weirdly and you scribbled back ‘how do you know that I’m good enough to do that?’ He smirked at your answer and he tilted his head towards the person that was giving people papers.

“As you should know by now, I pick the best essay to discuss with the class; so everyone can learn from good examples.” You received your paper with a big A star. “We’re going to be discussing Miss Y/L/N’s essay.” She didn’t look at you throughout the lesson.

You leaned towards Regulus and you said “I swear I don't know if that woman loves or hates me.”

“I think it depends.” He replied, and he looked at you with a fond smile. He used legilimency on the teacher before you entered the class. “Congratulations by the way.” He whispered. You shrugged your shoulders, “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, so will you tutor me?”

It’s March now. Your courses have been going well, and tutoring Regulus has been great for both of you. You both knew that he didn’t need any tutoring, but you couldn’t stop spending extra time with him. It wasn’t like he was complaining much anyway. “Are you going to the party tomorrow?”

“Meet me in the library after all our courses. Oh and by the way, you look great.”

***

“Uh, party?” He asked as you both waited for the elevator to reach the fifth floor. Your arms were brushing against each other, and you could feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. He linked your arms again, it seemed like a habit he developed; and you enjoyed it more than you would care to admit. Since September you had completely fallen for him.

“Yeah star, we finished exams. So they’re throwing a party tomorrow.” You said, you enjoyed the nickname that you gave him after your first tutoring session. He told you that it was a family thing, being named after stars and constellations; and you thought it was completely adorable. So you couldn’t resist calling him star. He doesn’t open up much about his family, but you don’t push him. You can tell that it bothers him. After he disappeared for two months, December and January; he came back much happier. He tried to gain your forgiveness after leaving suddenly without any warning, and eventually he succeeded; you couldn’t stay mad at him for long anyway.

“Are you going?” He asked, looking at you. Voldemort was defeated back in January. His brother and the Order contacted him after they discovered the Hocroux secret, and he was glad to help. He didn’t know how his brother found him, but since all the Marauders spend a lot of time in the muggle world, it wouldn’t be too far-fetched. It felt like this enormous weight was lifted off his shoulders, and that he was finally free to do whatever he liked. His parents were dead but he didn’t care that much anyway, he got his share of his inheritance and so did his brother. After they put Pettigrew in Azkaban they wanted a fourth honorary Marauder, and Sirius wanted him to fill the spot. His relationship with Sirius was mended, and Sirius wanted him to stay in the new place he bought along with Lupin, but he declined the offer. You were here,and it wasn’t like you could go to the wizarding world without being married to him first. It was already bad enough spending two months without you, let alone the rest of his life. “I’m going if you’re going.” You replied.

You looked up at him and he looked at you. “I’m going then.” You smiled at him and you nodded. You assessed his face for a while longer, you always did that. Regulus’ heart would beat irregularly when you do. It’s annoying how much he likes you. From the stupid, irresponsible way you are never on time, to the way you always look up when looking out of a window. He doesn’t know why you do that, most people look at the ground or the buildings; but you look at the sky and clouds. What is so interesting up there anyway? There weren’t any birds or any planes. He felt blessed in every way to have someone like you, be near him; and he honestly thought he didn't deserve to have you as a friend, let alone a lover. You reached for the scar above his eyebrow, you don’t know this but he got it from the inferi attack. It’s a constant reminder of what he has to go to. What he has done. He’s able to place a concealment charm on his dark mark, but when he placed the same charm on his scar, it made his vision blurry. He also didn’t mind how close you were every time you looked at it.

“It looks like it hurt.” You whispered, softly as you touched his scar. He hissed and you quickly pulled your fingers away. You heard him whisper, “That’s cause it did.”

You sighed and you continued to look at it. Your eyebrows furrow as you thought of all the possibilities that could have caused the scar. Regulus saw your expression and he sighed. He has never felt insecure about his face, he knew he was good looking. He shared that with Sirius, the big ego. When he got the scar, he just thought it looked ugly. He hoped you didn’t think the same, “It looks hideous doesn’t it?”

Your eyes flashed to his, and you tilted your head slightly in confusion. He was leaning slightly so you could be closer to him. He always did that, another habit he developed around you. You looked into his eyes, that you loved so much. It seemed like such an odd thing for someone’s favorite color to be gray, but you knew it wouldn’t seem that odd if they saw his eyes. If you could look into them forever you would, you didn’t know that he wished to do the same thing with your’s. “I think the opposite actually.”

The elevator music might have ruined the intimate atmosphere, but you leaned on the tips of your toes and you pressed your lips to his. He kissed you back immediately, and you pulled him closer by his neck. You were kissing each other passionately. You pulled him by his shirt and you placed your tongue in his mouth. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer. You pulled away to breathe properly. You looked into his eyes and his hair was ruffled and you assumed yours was the same.

The door opened and you realised it was the third floor. His face was neutral, so you assumed that he didn’t like you. He just liked to kiss you, you knew you were a good kisser; so maybe that was it. Maybe you read the situation completely wrong. You walked out the elevator, and it wasn’t even the floor you needed to be on. You’ll just take the stairs.

Your eyes unintentionally searched the room for Regulus, and your eyes connected from across the room. He was leaning back on the couch, his legs spread apart, and his hand resting on the couch’s arm rest. Your mind ran with the sight, and you could tell he was doing the same when his eyes trailed your body, and he liked his lips. You could feel your stomach churn and with the added liquid courage, you walked to him.

***

You didn’t even know why you’re here right now. The alcohol was burning down your throat, however you were very conscious of your surroundings. Your friend told you yesterday that Regulus told her that he needed to talk to you. You didn’t even know if he was going to be here, but you were and you hoped he was too.

“You said you wanted to talk to me.” You said as you sat beside him on the couch. He hummed, looking at you with his wonderful gray eyes. “I like you-” Your eyes widened, “I really like you and I-” You cut him off with his lips on yours.

You put your hands on his shoulders with an intent to pull him closer, but he pulled away slightly. He assumed you wanted to push him away and that you were rethinking your decisions. However, the thought was out of his head when your finger went to his neck. You wrapped your hands around his neck and you pulled him closer, attaching your lips together.

He bit your lips and he pulled your lips to insert his tongue in your mouth. His tongue massaged yours and yours explored his mouth. He put his hands on your waist and he started to let his hands trail down when your kissing intensified. When his hands reached your hips, he pulled you on his lap, and you could feel a prominent bulge in his pants.

You let out a breathy sigh when your heat was over his bulge. You were on top of him so you couldn’t kiss him properly because of the angles on your lips. You lifted his chin with your thumbs and you kissed him feverishly. You could feel his own thumbs tracing heavy circles on your hips. It was arousing so your breathing rate increased.

Even Though you could clearly feel his hard cock through his pants, you wanted to turn him on more. So you ‘innocently’ ran your fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck while keeping your thumbs on his neck. You waited a bit, trying to get that perfect element of surprise; then you pulled his hair and squeezed his neck. He let out a loud sound between a groan and a choke. You were shocked by his reaction and you felt yourself getting wetter.

His eyes were wider than yours indicating that he didn’t know he could feel or do that. You could feel his cock twitch under you and you let out a breathy sigh that hitched. His hands went under your thighs and you squeezed them tightly. He stood up and you hooked your ankles behind his hips. He kissed you with great passion as he took you to an empty bedroom.

He threw you on the bed and you heard the bed creak loudly. He took off his shirt and he crawled over to you as he connected your lips together. His hands roamed your body and when he reached your chest, he squeezed one of your breasts. “Take them off.” You ordered and he took off your shirt and unhooked your bra gladly.

He took a moment to look over your body and he said “You’re so gorgeous.” Your panties were uncomfortably wet and you were impatient. “Then fucking touch me then.” you said, and he didn’t waste a second kissing, squeezing and sucking all over your chest. You took off your pants and panties, when you couldn’t stand the wetness anymore.

When you were entirely naked, he couldn’t stop admiring your body. Your face was flushed, your hair a mess and your chest was littered with love bites. He could’ve cum on the sight. His eyes trailed down to your wet pussy, and he looked at your glistening juices running down your thighs. He closed his mouth because he was sure he would drool if he kept it open. “Sit on my face.” He said laying down beside you.

“What?!” You said flushing a deep red. He rolled his eyes and he started to grasp your thighs. “I want to eat you out as you ride my face.” You didn’t speak for a while so he added “Only if you want to of course.” The reason for your silence wasn’t because you didn’t want to but because you really wanted to.

You aligned your entrance with his mouth. You placed both your thighs away from his face, the last thing you wanted was for him to run out of air in the middle of sucking your clit. Usually, Regulus would have kissed and bit your thighs, teasing you for a bit; but as soon as he smelt your arousal, he couldn’t wait to taste you. He liked a bold strip gathering all your juices that were leaking out.

Your legs shook and you got a small taste of what was going to happen in the next few seconds. You placed one of your hands on the head board of the bed and you threaded the other through regulus’ hair. The first was for stability and the second was for teasing. He started liking and sucking softly, making you feel impatient with how much he was taking his time.

You started to grind on his face and you could barely hear the bed creak when his nose would brush against your clit and you would moan. When you started riding his face, he got the hint and he started eating you out at a relentless pace. He grabbed your thighs and moved you faster. You were a moaning mess and your thighs were clenching around the sides of his face.

Regulus didn’t care that he could barely breathe. The prettiest girl he’s ever seen is riding his face, making the most beautiful voices he’s ever heard; and she’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. As far as he was concerned, he was in heaven. His cock was painfully hard in his pants, he only started to feel it when you moaned his name loudly. He let go of one of your thighs and slipped his hand under his trousers. He was panting under you as he palmed himself, but it was all very much worth it.

“Ohh, Regulus!” You came harder than you ever did before from someone’s tongue. You could feel him swallowing all your cum and you felt his tongue run lines across your thighs, you assumed it was the remains of your cum that slipped down your thighs. When you came off his face, he had the most blissful expression on his face.

“You have to let me do that again. You taste like heaven.” Your eyes trailed down his body and you could no longer see a bulge . His cock was slipped out of his pants and underwear and you could see his cum around his cock. “Only if you let me return the favor sometime.” You could see his cock twitch at the thought. “You’re so messy. I can’t have you inside me like that.” You tutted and started to get up, away from the bed. He started to get up with you, eyes wide. “I’ll just have to clean you up.”

He placed his head back on the pillow and he was about to reach out to stroke his cock when you grabbed his wrist. “No touching.” You started to come closer to his cock, you pulled off his pants and underwear. You only smirked as you started to run your fingers up and down his cock. “You’re going to be the death of me.” You heard him both whisper and groan. You could only smirk and you started to feel him harden underneath your fingers.

You leaned down slightly and you looked up at him. His eyes connected with yours and he looked absolutely angelic. It was wonderful seeing him all messed up unlike his usual calm aura. You took his tip into your mouth, where most of the cum was gathered. He moaned when you licked his thighs and around his cock. He assumed you were going to give him head, you weren’t. You were simply doing what you said you were, cleaning him up. You gave him a few seconds to catch his breath and when you heard his breathing start to regulate, you took him in fully. You sucked, hard as his tip hit the back of your throat. He screamed loudly, and you were sure the entire party heard it. You clenched your thighs together.

Regulus was more vocal than you thought and you were loving it. His fingers threaded through your hair and you thought he was going to fuck your face; but you were pulled awya from his cock. “I want to be inside you, the first time I cum from you.”

“Needy for me, already.”

“Just hurry up.” He groaned and you were enjoying the power you had over him, so you added. “No really. Tell me how much you want me. How much you want to be inside me. Tell me darling, how many times did you touch yourself thinking of me-”

You were quickly flipped around and he thrust himself inside you. You screamed at the sudden force. He stopped waiting for you to adjust to his size as he leaned down to whisper “When I say hurry up, it means hurry up.” He started thrusting into you slowly, you heard the bed creak again; but you didn’t mind it. The pain turned into pleasure. So you started moaning “Faster.”

He obliged and he started to move quicker and quicker. When he hit your g-spot, you clenched around him tighter. “You’re so fucking tight.” You were sure he was moaning louder than you. You now considered that you were fucking him not the other way around. He kept repeatedly hitting the same spot until you started to see stars. He thrusted harder, and quicker, trying to get you through your high. However, just when you were about to finish cumming he started to cum too. You were on birth control so it wasn’t a problem. He was almost finished when the bed broke. You both tumbled on the floor as one of the legs broke.

He was still inside you when you said “How the hell are we going to fix this?” He chuckled as he pulled out of you, you hissed slightly. “Never mind that, how are we going to explain it?”

“There won’t be a need to explain anything. You were screaming loud enough that they heard you already.” You smirked, as you saw his cheeks turn redder.

“We should do that again sometime.” He said and he looked around the room for a glass of water. When he found it, he gave it to you. He cleaned you up and he placed the amount of money that was enough for the bed on it.

When you were walking out the building, he asked, “Do you want to stay with me tonight?” You looked at him before you said “Gee, star. Take me out on a date first.”

“We just fucked and you think that spending the night would be rash. Besides we can do that date thing tomorrow, I just want to hold you right now.” Your heart skipped a couple of beats. You nodded along with him, agreeing.

Walking back to Regulus’ flat reminded you of the first day you both met. You were now the one walking near the street, and he was far away from it. You knew he did it on purpose, even though it hasn’t rained lately, he still feels the need to make you pay somehow. Your arms were linked when he grabbed your other hand, and said “There’s something important I need to tell you when we get there.”

“That you love me?”

He smirked at how big your ego was sometimes. It wasn’t like he was any different, he thought of what it would be like when you meet his brother and Potter. Lupin would throw himself out the window. “Something else, but you have to promise you won’t send me to an insane asylum.”

You raised the hand that wasn’t connected with his and you said “I won’t. Consider it as thanks that you still haven’t sent me there yet.” He placed a kiss on your hand, and he said “I do, by the way.” you quirked your eyebrow. “Love you, I mean.”

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rpmemes-galore · 4 months

Text

raw lines from a variety of sources ... sentence starters

"Then perish."

"Pick a god and pray."

"Even fate picks its favorites."

"Everything happens so much."

"I pity the fool that lives like you."

"Then become the dirt I walk on."

“Confidence is quiet. You’re not.”

"I am a monument to all your sins."

“You said I killed you. Haunt me, then!”

“Do I look like the kind of man who dies?“

"You cannot kill me in a way that matters."

"If you want me to die you can just say so."

"Violence for violence is the rule of beasts."

"Your secrets are safe with my indifference."

"Will you fight? Or will you perish like a dog?"

"We might be in the history God abandoned."

"I will face God and walk backwards into hell."

"I can’t go to Hell. I’m all out of vacation days."

"The light inside me is broken, but I still work."

"Don't leave me, dear. Haunt me like a memory."

"I commend my soul to any god that can find it."

“I have been through hell and come out singing.”

"I will die on this hill before I bend on this matter."

"You are strong, child. But I am beyond strength."

"If there can be no victory, then I will fight forever."

"I cannot hold back the tide of your bad decisions."

“What an exhausting thing it is to be called a hero.“

"To become God is the loneliest achievement of all."

"You cannot condemn those who build your throne."

"No cause is lost as long as one fool is left to fight for it."

"You kneel before my throne unaware it was built on lies."

"My ancestors are smiling on me. Can you say the same?"

"If God wanted you to live, he would not have created me."

“Love is like ghosts; Few have seen it, but everybody talks.”

“I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.”

“I hope you heal from the things no one ever apologized for.“

"If you should ever get to heaven, I’ll be there to make it hell."

"No one will know the violence it took to become this gentle."

"You either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain."

"God has cursed me for my hubris and my work is never finished."

"Kill me and live with the memory. Then tell the stars that you’ve won."

"There’s no point in being grown up if you can’t act childish at times."

"You could sooner divert a river from its course than deny my nature."

"We both stared into the abyss, but when it looked back… you blinked."

"I will seize destiny by the throat and force it into the shape of my choosing."

"The anger in your heart warms you now, but will leave you cold in your grave."

"I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me."

"If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight just like I always have."

"Do you think God lives in heaven because he, too, fears what he has created?"

"I forgive but I will never, ever forget. Don’t mistake my kindness for gullibility."

“Someday you will have to answer for your actions, and god may not be so merciful.”

"What is better? To be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"

“You are alone, child. There is only darkness for you, and only death for your people.”

"You took a pure and beautiful thing, and you beat out everything good, to suit your ends."

"We all make mistakes. That’s what happens when you’re brave enough to make decisions."

“I am not responsible for actions of the imaginary version of me you have inside your head.“

"I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough."

“They dropped the world on your shoulders and called you Atlas. How long can you hold the weight?”

"I’ve heard it said that we only gain wisdom through suffering. And tonight I intend to make you very wise."

"Stand in the ashes of a thousand dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer."

"The world should have protected you, but you have been asked to protect it. What an honor. What an injustice."

"Across all worlds, all times, no matter what you do or what you become: You are nothing less than beautiful."

"The bar was so low it was practically an tripping hazard in hell… yet here you are, limbo dancing with the devil."

"What can one do in the face of such monumental loss but breathe a weary sigh, for the world is a little quieter now."

"I hear your questions constantly. They come to me in my dreams like a prophet receiving visions from an angry god."

"I see now that the circumstances of one’s birth are irrelevant; it is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

"Too many people have opinions on things they know nothing about. And the more ignorant they are, the more opinions they have."

"Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show."

"One day, you will be face to face with whatever saw fit to let you exist in the universe, and you will have to justify the space you’ve filled."

#misc #rp meme #sentence starters

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enviedear · 7 months

Note

Hiii !! How are you? Pleasure to meet you!

I saw your engineering major!Anakin post and when I tell you I immediately twirled around on my bed and started kicking my feet like a fucking teenage girl… I’m not joking.

This is a headcanon that has been following me ever since I entered the beautiful world of Anakin Skywalker. Seriously. I even have a one shot about lmaoooo

Could you please elaborate on that? I would love to hear your takes, discuss them and just thirst over him together! Because god lord, I’m so grateful to found someone who was the same interest on engineer Anakin. Also bonus points for college student Anakin because that’s just hot as fuck

Thank youuuu

Mina

i literally am obsessed over this concept thank you so much for indulging me! i centered it over him in college mostly because— i just... it does things to me.

also what if i said engineering major!anakin fic in the works...

a few nsfw themes in here so minors dni i will block you <3

he strikes me as the type of guy you'd see once on campus and then immediately try to find him on the university's social media accounts.

he wouldn't be fucking anywhere until you find the engineering college's Instagram account

it hasn't had a single post in two years but it's okay because you find one of him !!!

and the only picture of his face is so grainy, but he's in it and he looks so fucking hot at his computer and that's enough

also he's totally unapproachable

not that he's a dick or anything, he's just cussing out all his professors in his head and worried about his last materials exam

i think in his (very limited) spare time he'd be into either metalworking or cars... probably both

like i think he could fix almost any car-related issue without having to go to a shop

axel on his car goes out? yeah he's ordering the part and putting it on his damn self

his motor blows up? he's spending his summer rebuilding it while taking sixteen hours of summer classes

and if he does have to go to a shop, it's strictly because he doesn't have time and he most certainly will pop the hood and check their work

also i believe he'd like stick shift

literally won't buy a car unless it's manual

"what the fuck is the point of an automatic"

he totally also learns how to tune in his free time and everytime you hear a car speed by you on campus you just know it's his work

now, if you're lucky enough to catch his eye i truly believe he'd be so fucking consumed by you

he'd ask you to go everywhere with him; he needs to study in the library? he's asking you to come. he has to give a dissertation? he's begging you to come watch him. it's 3am and he just finished his statics project? he's calling you like, 'baby please come with me to get food. I'll buy you a treat.'

also the biggest and most clingy bf ever in the history of the world

will stop doing his work to come watch you play the sims and just hold you (also tells you how to build a proper house despite you bing like,, "ani... the fun part is making them get into trouble not making sure their roof is durable.")

also likes to be incentivized with you

"if i get an a on this next test will you let me bend you over the desk?"

or, "i'll study better if you let me taste you, please baby?"

star-student, no question.

and he's so fucking smart it's a bit annoying because he'll bitch and moan about how bad he's doing while getting on the dean's list every year

the way he explains what he's working on is hot as fuck

numbers make sense to his mind in ways you will never understand, but good lord is it nice to watch his smart little mouth move

type of man to take you on a date into the city and point out the shitty infrastructure

"for as much rain as we get you'd think these fucking idiots would have put more drains."

"that bridge is due to fall in less than ten years, what the fuck were they thinking."

he's just the smartest boy, and you make sure to tell him any chance you get not that he agrees but he'll always say, "thank you pretty girl"

#he's literally so fucking smart and i just wanna tell him he's doing a good job #—engineering ani !#anakin x reader #modern! anakin #anakin skywalker x reader

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hiyyihrts · 1 month

Text

Parks, Picnics, and Pound Cake: A One-Shot Polin Fanfic

Summary:

Colin Bridgerton is gone for a month-long venture with his brother Benedict for artful inspiration outside of London. Benedict has the time of his life, happy to chat with locals and indulge in new dishes; while Colin can do nothing but write dozens of letters to his wife at home, wishing for nothing but to have her in his arms once again and to feel her warmth.

Colin is convinced she’ll drop everything upon his arrival and take him to their bedroom at once.

Penelope Bridgerton has other ideas for her husband.

AO3:

Colin Bridgerton is many, many things. He’s charismatic, charming, complimentary, practically any word you can think of that starts with a C could be used to describe him. Except for a specific word that comes to mind, but that is a bone to pick for another day. He’s always been partial to C-centric words, though, probably to do with his given name starting with the same. However, any word that could be taken as a compliment in the English alphabet is something that could most likely pertain to Colin.

The only word that no one close to him would use to attribute to his personality would be patience. Specifically, patience when it comes to traveling, and patience when it comes to anything regarding his wife, Penelope.

Since he had given up his lifestyle of traveling for months on end to be with his love, that patience had transmitted itself to something he had to apply to his relationship instead. But not in the sense that he was quick to annoyance or anger. While his wife sometimes tempted those emotions, he rarely came to direct anger anymore since being together. No, his patience stemmed into physical patience. His wife made him nothing short of a saint with the way she made him keep his hands to himself at all occasions, never allowing him to be untoward unless they were alone, in the private of their home or bedchamber of whatever residence they found themselves in.

His patience for this was hung by the skin of his teeth, day in and day out, because his wife was beautiful. She was a goddess come to life, a gorgeous woman that every man should have been desiring for years on end (this, however, was not allowed unless he himself was the one doing the desiring, because no man should dare look at her untoward until he was cold in the ground and long gone from this Earth).

Ringlets of sunset-colored hair and a button nose that he wanted to touch with his own, and deep, ocean-blue eyes he wanted to drown in endlessly, his Venus in her clam shell that would be remembered through his history and then some. The curves of her hips and the fullness of her bosom would be enough to make all of the Greek statues in existence weep with envy. He could lose himself in her beauty, and wit combined, for the rest of his days. Whether she was gazing out a parlor window, pained with the forces of laboring a child, or deep in pleasure writhing beneath him, she was beautiful- always a sight to behold.

And she was his. His love and wife and everything good in this world for him.

So when he’d been gone for a month with Benedict, he had done nothing but crave her. Every morning he awoke to lovely sunrise, with the sun shining in on him with a vibrancy different to the London skies, but it wasn’t quite as appealing to him unless she was beside him. And his brother interrupting the solitude of silence was also an annoyance he could have done without.

He wrote to her, of course, as they always did when they were away from one another for longer than necessary. Even as children they had done so, before they had ever thought of courtship or marriage or anything but being friends. Or, that’s how Colin remembers it at least. Penelope would beg to differ on the timelines and semantics, but that is a tale for another time. But nonetheless, he’d written to her, and she had not responded. He hadn’t expected her to, as the time it would take for the letters to arrive could vary greatly, and they’d been home by the time any of them had crossed into the country anyhow. Most of them were nothing but his longing for her and their child. He missed them both terribly, and he missed the intimacy he’d grown accustomed to from them both.

He’d been ecstatic to arrive back in London. It was all he could do not to jump out of the carriage once they’d neared London and run at his full speed all the way to his love. He hadn’t done that, though, obviously. He’d been patient. Like his wife would have wanted him to be. He’d waited a month to see her, after all; a few more hours wouldn’t hurt him. Although, they might make him combust from the inside with nerves, but nothing physically capable, anyhow.

The carriage ride had them stopping in front of Number Five like anticipated around mid-day. His wife was to be there with his mother, Violet, and Benedict’s wife, Sophie, upon arrival to greet them after their travels.

But once Colin stepped down from stifling heat of the carriage, his wife was no where to be seen. In fact, only his mother greeted them at the front gates, a large smile on her face. She took quick steps forward to embrace her two songs in one large embrace. They had to bend down to accompany her size, and both when released gave her a kiss on the cheek. Both men looked at her with the unasked question that hung in the air- Where were their wives?

Violet puffed out a quiet laugh, “Ah, it’s been so hot this morning that the ladies have had to keep cool inside. They said they would be on their way out in a moment, but it’s been a few bit since then.”

Colin looked up to the sky at that. The sun beat down uncharacteristically hot. Not a cloud lazed in the sky, making its beams feel all the more oppressive out in the open, unwelcome unless obscured by shade. He was starting to feel a prickle of sweat along his back standing outside, with hardly a breeze to cool him off. After a moment he heard the click of a door opening, and he stared past his mother to the front door. It took him a moment to adjust to not looking directly at the sun (stupid of him, he knows) but when he did he saw his wife and Sophie stepping down the walkway towards them.

Ah, how he missed his Pen.

He felt his breath leave his lungs in a rush and his heart swell in his chest, tight and aching for her. She wore a stunningly blue piece, light in color with white trim, and her hair laid coiled in an updo as it usually did most days. The color shown fiery in the sunlight while her dress shown pale, as if it were translucent in color and not a baby blue ensemble.

While Sophie ran to meet Benedict, Penelope hurriedly came to him with tears in her eyes threatening to fall and a radiant smile crossing her face. Penelope wasn’t one for theatrics or inappropriate advances, especially in public where eyes were always on one another, so she refrained from hugging him and halted with stuttering steps in front of him. She was mere centimeters away yet Colin felt as if an ocean lay between them. His fingers twitched at his sides to brush the tear that had fallen from its stubborn hold of her blue eyes, but he refrained. He was a gentlemen after all, her being his wife or no.

“Colin.” She said, smiling at him with flushed, rose colored cheeks.

”Pen.” He replied, with probably just as flushed skin as she, taking in every niche and sight of her he could.

A bead of sweat dropped from her hairline to her cheek, and ran down the line of her jaw to her, mixing with the stray tear, and landed on her chest. Colin’s eyes flitted to the droplet, now sliding down to the dip between her breasts and flowing to a place he’d dreamed about for weeks now. He licked his lips and sucked in a shaky breath. He forced his gaze to flit back up to hers, focusing on something other than the fantasies he’d had over his travels about her.

She must have been thinking the same, because her smile widened into a grin, and she had that teasing look in her eye she got when she was meant to playfully scold him. She must want to get out of the sight of his family as fast as he did.

She took a step closer and brushed her gloved fingers with his and said, “I’ve arranged for a picnic.”

———

“When you said you’d like for us to go for a picnic, I hadn’t thought you actually meant a picnic.” Colin grumbled.

He held Penelope’s arm in the crook of his elbow, trailing her along for a promenade along the river. He had to bend slightly to adjust to her height, but he made it work, even if it was slightly uncomfortable to stagger about. They nodded to other couples and families they passed by, a few mumbled names and “Mr. Bridgerton and Mrs. Bridgerton’s” following suite. He shifted the small basket his mother’s cook had arranged for them on his arm. He would never admit it out loud but it was becoming a bit tedious to carry. And by God was it hot. His hair kept sticking to his forehead and rivulets of sweat were running down his back at lightning speed. He sure Penelope wasn’t fairing much better. The fan in her hand had been working overtime to keep a modicum of her complexion less flushed, but it would be of no use. She was prone to a red tinge as it was, and the heat only accentuated the color.

“Don’t be melancholy, Colin. I thought it’d be nice for us to promenade after so long away from one another. It’s also a nice day out. We should enjoy it while it lasts.” Penelope remarked, always trying to look for the positive in any situation.

He grunted in reply, trying not to yank her arm up as he maneuvered the basket again.

”I rather thought there’d be other things on your mind after not seeing your husband for a month rather than a damned promenade.”

Penelope swatted at his arm harshly, “Colin Bridgerton, do not speak that way.” She lowered her voice to a hissed whisper, “Not while we’re in public, at the very least.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, but held his tongue. She was right, of course, but she had a way of bringing out his fallacies like no other that made him want to curse as if it were his first profession.

“Besides, what else would you have had in mind if not a nice promenade?” Her tone remained aloof as she asked the question, but her eyes moved too quickly away from his own to warrant any other response except for a cheeky remark.

He stepped slightly closer to her side, pulling her into him, slowing their walk to a crawl. He leaned down until his breath hit the shell of her ear, and said, “I’m sure we can think of a few ideas, my love.”

She did not reply, yet her chest rose and fell quickly, and her hold on his arm tightened slightly. Colin looked down to her gloved hand fisted into his coat sleeve, and he knew some chord had been struck.

Penelope cleared her throat and looked off to to the distance, focusing on some geese or tuft of grass that held no actual significance to her. It was just a way to distract herself from what her husband was implying to her out in the open. A cherry red flush creeped up her neck and Colin was quick to take notice.

He bit his lip to contain his smile, pulling her closer to his side. Or, at the very least as much as social propriety allowed between a husband and wife in public. If anything she could blame the flaming of her skin to the scorching sun overhead, and no one would be none the wiser.

But they would know, of course. And, God, he wanted this picnic to be over with now more than ever.

Colin quickened their pace along the walkway, foregoing minimal formalities if they passed by anyone walking towards them. Spotting a thicket of trees that led into a more dense forest ahead of them, he steered them off the popular path and pushed his wife towards a small dirt step way, Penelope uttering a snapped “Colin!” as he did.

As they traveled further into the forest, Colin realized that the path he’d chosen was hardly even a path at all. It was an unclear rut of rocks and packed dirt, and both him and Penelope struggled to work their way through the thicket. The only reason he’d led them this way was because he knew of a small, secluded clearing he’d discovered in his youth with his brothers. They’d hide out here to get away from their Mother during promenades, if they could help it at all.

Violet never caught on to their antics, so it’s even more likely no one else would find him and his wife here, either. And that, in the moment for Colin, was the most glorious thought he’d ever had.

Penelope stumbled a few times, her skirts catching on fallen branches and thickets. Colin was there to hold her up with an arm wrapped around her waist in support, feeling her let go of her own weight to have him hold her. He relished in it, being able to feel the curve of her stomach and grip her hip through the fabric of her gown, almost as if he could feel her skin between his finger instead.

Soon. Soon he would be able to feel her in full.

When they finally reached the end of the path, Penelope gasped, surprised to see a clearing of grass dotted with blooms of flowers all around. A tree bore overhead a portion of the clearing, providing some shade from the sweltering sun even further above.

“Oh Colin, it’s beautiful.” She said.

He grinned.

And led her to the patch beneath the tree, setting the basket down at his feet and opening it to see if a blanket had been provided for them to sit on. Of course, there was, as his mother’s cook and maids were always very meticulous when it came towards her children. There weren’t many items in the basket, as the blanket took up most of the room, but there were a few sandwiches and some lemon pound cake for dessert. No beverages, though. Alas, some moments couldn’t always be perfect.

Birds chirped a melody above their heads, and the taller grass swayed in the slight breeze that had steadily built as the day dragged on. Colin laid the thin blanket out as flat as he could manage, and held his wife’s hands as she sat herself down and bent her legs underneath her. She fixed her skirts to splay out in a circle around her, and it seemed to swallow her short frame whole, and her eyes buzzed with a shine of excitement and love.

Oh, how he’d missed her.

Sitting himself down beside her, he divided their portions using the utensils that had been provided, and they ate quietly. The silence of the moment and the solitude of the clearing washed over them, calm and resolute. He’d missed his wife’s body, yes, how could he never not miss the shape of her and the feel of her pressed against him? He’d have to be mad to think otherwise. But, he would never be remised to admit that he missed her company alone even more so. Her whit and humor were what brought a smile to his lips first thing in the morning. Her light laughter at something he’d said or something their child had done in learning were what made him want to walk this Earth endlessly. He’d do anything to keep his wife and child in his life for as long as he could. So, yes, he missed her body, but he missed her soul even more.

Beside him Penelope delicately took her gloves off to eat her dessert. The sandwiches hadn’t been too messy for her, so she’d kept them on, but the dessert was too hearty and coated with melting icing. She picked a slice up placed between her ring, forefinger, and thumb, gripping it with an intensity even he found admiring. He appreciated someone as involved with their food as he was.

He watched as she held the slice to her mouth and took a bite from it, chewing methodically, not taking notice to the pair of eyes trained on her movements. A dribble of icing coated the corner of her lips. The tip of Penelope’s tongue darted out to lick it away, trailing across her plump bottom lip and sweeping along the other corner. She hummed in approval as she swallowed the first bite- and Colin felt it rumble low in his groin.

She continued eating her cake, oblivious to her husband’s molten gaze holding her captive. The heat was stifling, even while in the shade, and her slice of lemon cake wasn’t immune to its forces. The icing that the cook had probably slaved over in the early hours of this days morning was undone in mere minutes outside. It trickled down slowly between Penelope’s fingers, drawing a line down her palm to the delicate bend of her wrist. And Colin’s eyes followed relentlessly. Her gloves were gone, and her arms were bare and pale and glowing with lemon-glazed goodness. She allowed the icing to drip and drop and flow down her fingers and hand while her husband’s resolve faded to dust.

His patience for her finally snapped when she opened her mouth and inched her fingertips towards her outstretched tongue. Colin grasped her forearm and hurled her forward. Penelope let out a burble of words that didn’t quite form coherently into anything and fell into her husband’s chest and into his personal space. Her left hand was held in Colin’s iron grip, and her right landed precariously on his thigh, dangerously close to his throbbing need.

Patience, patience, Colin.

Penelope’s eyes flitted back and forth from Colin’s hold on her to his own heady gaze. His eyes darkened and he leaned in to her icing-covered fingers. His wife’s breath puffed out, hot and smelling faintly of lemon, against his lips, then hitched when he darted his tongue out to lick at the pad of her fingers. Her cheeks flushed bright red. Her hand on his thigh clenched into a fist, holding tight to the thick fabric. Colin took the pad fully into his mouth, sucking lightly, bobbing his head down one knuckle, then the next, until her finger was completely between his lips and his tongue circled it clean. When he finished with the first finger, he moved to the next, then to her thumb, licking and swirling as if he were between her legs and sucking the sensitive bud hidden within her folds. Satisfied with the state of her fingers, he lapped at her palm, then dipped his head down to lick and bite at the thin skin of her wrist.

She let out a whimper from her parted lips, leaning impossibly forward until her eyes were level with his and their mouths were centimeters apart. Colin continued his kitten licks along her palm, sighing out against her skin, “You cannot know what you do to me, my dear.” Her head tilted so her lips could graze the stubble along his cheek, carving a path to the lobe of his ear, which she took between her teeth for a moment. Colin fought the urge to tip his head back and let her work her plump, radiant lips at the line of his jaw, a low groan forming in the back of his throat.

Penelope’s breath hit the shell of his ear, and it made him shiver in the heat of the summer day, “Mr. Bridgerton, you forget that I know all in this town and relationship.”

Colin’s resolve snapped along with his patience, thrown to the wind and gone for the while. He crushed her flush to him, finding her lips as quickly as he could in his haste. It was nothing but teeth and open mouths, carnal and anything short of a romantic, lingering kiss. He wanted her, and she wanted him. The romantics would have to wait for later.

She moaned into his mouth the moment his tongue touched hers, whining and full of need. Her breasts pushed against his chest in the best way, and her hand roamed in altering grips in his hair, her other moving closer and closer to his hard on for her. Sweat was already forming on their temples, running in rivulets down their cheeks and stinging their eyes when they opened to find a place the other wanted to devour. Penelope lingered on his lips at first, then she changed her mind and mouthed at the curve of his jaw and neck. Colin’s eyes darted to the deep cleavage exposed by her position against him, hunger clouding his vision. They were practically ripping the seams of her dress, begging for them to be taken into his mouth and worshipped.

His fingers moved aptly towards the few buttons that trapped her inside the suffocating gown, undoing them with a swiftness that even a seamstress would be impressed by. Before he pulled it down, he grabbed Penelope by her bottom and heaved her into his lap, making an attempt for her to straddle his waist. She obliged, doing her best to hike the fabric of her dress up and around her thighs. Though she participated in the action, her words were hesitant, not as confident as she’d been a moment ago whispering into this ear.

“Colin-“ He dragged her dress down her shoulders, helping her slide her arms out of the holes. “We’re in public!” Colin undid the bindings of her bodice, though simple in style, it was hard to maneuver through. He grunted at her as he struggled to undo the ties, his fingers fumbling and shaking with nerves.

”It does not matter.”

”But what if someone sees-“ She hissed.

”They do not matter!” Colin growled, ripping the bodice in frustration and tearing it off of Penelope in one fell swoop. The gasp that escaped her turned in to a low moan as Colin cupped at her breasts.

“Finally.” He murmured, dipping his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth, teething it to a hard bud. She arched into him, her legs tightening around his waist and cried out.

Colin released her at the sound, glancing up through his lashes at his wife, deep cherry red cheeks and parted lips kissed raw and swollen. He made sure to accentuate each breath against her goose-fleshed skin as he said “If you don’t want someone to find us, my dear, you need to be quiet.”

She whined and rocked her hips down. “Make me, please, Colin.”

Christ above, Penelope Bridgerton was going to drive him to absolute madness.

He flashed her a grin, giving her a quick kiss on her lips and cheek. “Trust me, love. I imagine what I plan will have it nigh impossible for you to keep your pleasures at bay.” Her response was to grind on his clothed length.

He strained against his breeches, aching and uncomfortable in its entrapment. He shifted to lower Penelope onto her back on the blanket so he could remove his garments. She moved to cover her top with her arms, but a sharp glare from Colin had her lowering her arms to lay on either side of her head instead. Her hair laid like an orange halo around her, blending in to the shade of red her skin was turning at being exposed. Her skirts had draped down over her legs again, covering her deliciously decadent thighs. It irked Colin, and Penelope could notice. She quirked a brow at him in question of if he was going to act on it.

Slowly, he took the hem of her skirts and lifted it back up. He made sure to graze along her legs with his fingers as he did, and also making sure his wife didn’t cross her knees together in embarrassment at her womanhood showing so openly. No undergarments were in sight, letting Colin take in all of Penelope’s beautiful intimates. He swallowed at how she dripped with need, with want, for him, no less. It was enough to make a man fall to his knees in devotion.

Colin licked his dry lips, sucking in a sharp breath of air. He caught Penelope’s gaze and held it as he went to reveal himself. His fingers fumbled in anticipation, but he eventually got his breeches down to his thighs, his member springing free finally after a month of longing to be sheathed in his wife for eternity. No matter how many times they did this he always felt the giddy anticipation of a green boy in love for the first time. It was how Penelope always made him feel, and had made him feel, for many years now.

He shuffled to hover over Penelope, settling himself between her legs, taking her dress and hiking it further over her legs. Her chest heaved up and down as his fingers brushed stray hairs from her face. He nodded at her for reassurance, and she nodded subtly back, cheeks flushing like a young maiden in love.

He first touched her with his fingers, feeling her heat and wetness along the pads, feeling her in her most vulnerable areas. He wanted to make the slide as painless as possible for her, of course. He wasn’t going to get pleasure if she wasn’t feeling it as well. When he inserted his finger down to the knuckle she sighed, closing her eyes as he crooked it inside her, in and out again. He paused after a moment to insert another, and paused every few menstruation’s to wet his length for her. Every time he pulled out she opened her eyes to make sure he was coming back, mewling at him when he inserted his fingers inside her again. She bucked her hips up when he had three in all to their knuckles, not quite reaching that bundle of nerves she needed him to, but so close all the same. Every time he neared it she bucked up into him, mouth hung open in pleasure.

Colin watched her writhe beneath him until she was close, then he stopped abruptly. She looked at him with both a mix of rage and the most adorable pout of her lips she could muster, and he couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“I think you’re ready, now.” He grinned at her, adjusting himself and lining up to her entrance.

She did nothing but huff at him, but he noticed she inched her hips closer and closer to him. As the tip of his shaft entered her, he trembled, shook with the pleasure of feeling her around him again. He’d thought about it, dreamed about it, and had even written about his want to be buried within her over his time away. He was a man in love and a man without for so long, it was bound to make him practically delirious with desire when he arrived home.

And now he was here, not dreaming, not imaging it, but here with his wife. In the park, on a picnic in a secluded area of the woods, eating lemon pound cake, and fucking his wife like they’d never get the chance to again. He tried to be gentle as he fully sheathed himself in her, grinding his hips lightly against her in an effort to be slow. Once he was in all the way, they both paused, breathing heavy, staring into the other’s deep, blue eyes.

This was love. This moment right here. It wasn’t the main one, but it was love in its purest form, in its most vulnerable and pivotal. They were both exposed in more ways than one, but they were exposed together, with one another.

Colin cupped Penelope’s cheek with his palm, brushing his thumb along her swollen lips. “Open for me, love.” And she did. Her lips parted and he slipped two of his fingers lightly inside, resting the pads of them on her tongue. Her teeth grazed his skin, not unpleasantly. “Now close.” He ordered. And she wrapped her lips around his digits, holding them there in place. His slid his hips back to slide out of her, the air hitting his heated skin and making him shiver again. He took his other hand to hold Penelope’s next to her head, clasping their fingers together and intertwining them, and he squeezed.

Penelope bobbed her head in a nod, and Colin slammed back into her with a force he’d been holding back on until now. He buried himself in and out of her relentlessly, slamming into her for any sort of relief he could find for his aching cock. Penelope bit down on his fingers as he hurried his pace, moaning with each hit inside her, squeezing Colin’s hand in a death grip that he was sure to leave bruises along the back of his hand when they were done. She tried to thrash her head to the side, but Colin’s hold on her with his fingers prevented her from doing so.

She was slick and warm for him, making his relentless pace in and out of her an easy slide. It spurred him on, knowing she was this wet for him and only him, and that she’d only be this way for him always. No one else would be privy to how she looked when she was on the flush of an orgasm, or when she was close to screaming from his pleasuring, nor would anyone ever witness how utterly wrecked he must look lusting over her, his wife, his everything to him.

Colin kept his pace, fraught at the thought of tiring himself out after waiting so long for her. He was close, embarrassingly close for such a short time, and he couldn’t hold himself back from wanting to drive into Penelope with wild abandon. He mumbles a sorry as he rips his fingers from their hold in her mouth and unclasps their hands so he can grip her hips instead. He rocks back to sit on the balls of his heels, lifting Penelope’s hips up so he can slam into her at an angle now, sheathing himself deeper and deeper into her for relief.

Now he was hitting that sweet spot of hers he loved so much, her cries inaudible as she reaches her peak. She lets out the tiniest of moans when she comes, tightening around Colin’s cock inside her. And it’s enough to send him spiraling. He spills into her soon after, her whines urging him on and keeping him ramming into her until he’s spent completely.

When he’s through, Colin collapses on top of his wife, caging her in with his frame. They both heave with exhaustion, the clearing silent but for their labored breathing. Colin goes soft inside her, but he doesn’t want to pull out. He enjoys her warmth, arousal or not, and wants to relish in this moment with her.

Colin hears a sniffle in his ear. He whips his head up to see his wife crying, arousal flushed cheeks streaked with tears.

“Pen, what is it? What’s wrong?” He inquires, worried he’d done something to hurt her in his endeavors.

Penelope wipes at her eyes, shaking her head. Colin holds himself up, ready to pull out of her, but she stops him, gripping his forearm tightly.

“No, no. Stay, please.” She says.

He stills, stiff in her hold.

”Please, Pen, tell me what did I do wrong?”

Her eyes grow watery again and her lips wiggle in a pout. She wraps her arms around Colin’s neck and yanks him down to her, maneuvering his head to rest in the crook of her neck. He feels more tears wet his cheeks as they fall between them.

“I… I just missed you so much, Colin.” Penelope confesses.

That’s when Colin realizes that he hadn’t actually done anything to hurt his wife. She just missed him. As he missed her. This was what he loved about his love, this was what love meant to him. It meant Penelope loving him for him. It meant Penelope missing him. It meant Penelope going along with his antics of fucking in a public park, amongst the eyes of God and men alike.

She was his. And he was hers. She was home.

———

“Colin, did you leave my basket at the park?”

Violet questioned her son upon his arrival to Number Five. He arrived alone. With no basket, and no wife in sight.

“No, no, mother, I have it right here.” He hastily places it on the table next to his mother where she sits in the drawing room, observing her son.

”You were gone for quite a while.” She remarks.

Colin nods, “We haven’t seen one another for quite a while.”

”Hm.” Violent hums.

”Well then, mother, I’ll be taking my leave. It was lovely to see you again.”

Her son kisses her on the cheek and then walks out of the room. If she notices the blush that crept along his neck at her questioning, she doesn’t say.

And if her cook finds a ripped bodice bundled up in the blanket within the picnic basket later on in the week, they certainly do not say so.

#this isn’t supposed to be canon it’s just smith I thought would be fun! don’t take it too seriously #bridgerton #polin #polin fic #polin fanfiction #penelope x colin #colin x penelope #colin bridgerton #penelope bridgerton

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 6 months

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You watch slasher movies? I haven't done so in years (much to my disappointment), got any recommendations, classics, popular, underrated, anything really?

I knew I hadn't watched them in a long time, but it wasn't till I had to try and write something based on classic slashers, that I realized how long its been since I consumed that kind of content.

My only plan so far is that I need to watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Alright, Pandora, it depends on your tastes, and what you look for in a "slasher" ❤️

As you may remember, I fucking love the OG the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and when I got pretty bad last month emotionally I watched it on repeat for two weeks straight. However, if you go in for a regular slasher film you will be disappointed. The first movie is incredible, focusing on amazing shots and atmosphere for nearly the entire first half. It's less of a slasher as we would come to know the genre, and more of an artistic film centered around the horrors of humanity. The series is a wonderful mess of multiple timelines and little continuity, but the sequels better fit the slasher archetype. The best sequel (imo) is the one directly after the first, and it's a black comedy slasher, focusing more on the kills.

Now, slashers ❤️

If you're a nerd and want to experience the slasher history, then before Halloween (which still holds up) there was Black Christmas, and before that the Town that Dreaded Sundown.

The Town that Dreaded Sundown is based off a true serial killer, and unlike TCM which is loosely inspired by Ed Gein, a lot of the kills (except the trombone scene) are based on actual murders, with his mask accurate to the only real world survivor's testimony of her assault. It's very slow pace, and with how desensitized we are as a society you might find it boring, but if you ever get a phonecall from Ghostface, then you have to know the Town that Dreaded Sundown. Fun fact, his mask also inspired Jason's mask from Friday the 13th part 2!

Black Christmas is awesome! I'd recommend it more than Sundown, because of pacing, characters, acting, and overall atmosphere. I love my second wave feminism horror (Stepford Wives (mwah)), and it did a lot better with it's feminist themes than the loose remake from 2019 that tried to be intentionally feminist (ignore the 2006 remake entirely, so bad, so lame, so gross). It did the first person perspective of the killer nearly four years before Halloween's iconic opening. It introduced the idea of the final girl, but she wouldn't become a sexually repressed younger woman until Halloween solidified the trope. It has some great kills that still hold up, and Billy is iconic. I really feel the only reason why he isn't more well known in non-horror spaces is because he doesn't have a mask or outfit that can be replicated and sold in Spirit.

After that we have our most well known slashers, and they're popular for good reason ❤️

A Nightmare on Elm St, Friday the 13th, and Halloween spawned sequels that spiraled off into varying degrees of madness, but still have fun moments.

After the success of Friday the 13th (and the realization of the franchise-ability of slashers) there were a lot of slashers that tried to capture the money magic of the first few success stories. Not all of them were great, but a few notable slashers imo are My Bloody Valentine and the Dentist.

Although Candyman is often lumped in with slashers, like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the first movie is more than a traditional slasher. I recommend the first one as a beautiful love story about the horrors of American racism. It's score is still incredible, the behind the scenes are so interesting, and Tony Todd is absolutely beautiful. Such an amazing actor. (Not so) Fun fact: Tony Todd said in the behind the scenes that there originally was a romantic scene where Helen proclaimed her love for Candyman, but they were forced to cut it, because "they were okay with a tall, black man covered in bees.. but, mm, when it came to a kiss, or something like that, it was a little bit too risque..." ( :/ )

(Please please please watch Candyman)

Then the best, or worst (depending on your views), thing happened to the genre; Scream.

One of the best slashers there is, it isn't the first self referential, meta horror (see Wes Craven's New Nightmare), but it did change the slasher genre for a very long time. It was a revival for the genre, since it was declining in popularity by the early 90s. However, post Scream horror was very meta. See Chucky's personality changing from the occasional funny quip, to Bride of Chucky levels of silly (still love him tho). Of the terrible horror trying to copy Scream, I'd recommend Urban Legend over I Know What You Did Last Summer. It was a shame, just how silly a lot of scary movies got back then, trying to be as smart and self aware as Scream was.

But my favorite (outside of Scream) meta horror slasher film is Behind the Mask: the Rise of Leslie Vernon ❤️ took meta to a whole new level, mockumentary style, a camera crew follows a wannabe slasher killer explaining how to be a slasher icon.

I've watched too many slashers to remember all of them right now, but if you want really meta black comedies, Tucker and Dale vs Evil isn't a slasher but a loving joke on the genre, and the Final Girls made me laugh and cry like a little bitch.

A lot of slashers since the late 90s have drifted closer to the black comedy sub genre. Killers that kill for the sake of killing are often B-rated blood fests, that can be great for mindless fun but not so great for box office gains, especially in our current horror renaissance. Slashers don't fit in to the current horror culture. Serial killers aren't scary for desensitized audiences, and the mindless gore expectations set by older slasher films have created a pretty specific genre setup and pay off (dumb people who only exist to die get brutally murdered). It either has to be B-rated mindless fun (Laid to Rest 1 and 2 had terrible camera work and directing, making even incredible actors like Lena Headey feel lackluster, but the practical effects are so impressive I'd recommend it just for the blood and guts (and bewbs)), or comedic (the Hatchet series has great cameos, genuine laughs, and more impressive practical effects, but with good cinematography and directing (still bewbs)). Slashers that don't lean in to how ridiculous the concept of slashers are and try to take themselves seriously often end up falling short, either creating boring killers with no personality or trying to force a plot into a generic slasher shaped hole.

This does include most remakes of slasher movies, as a lot of slashers were remade in the early 2000's with less interesting characters to be killed off by the slashers. The remake of Candyman was an exception, because even though it wasn't as good as the original, it did go back to it's non slasher roots, learning from the mistake that was the third Candyman.

TLDR:

Non slashers that are considered slashers because of the slasher sequels/iconic murderers:

the Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Candyman

Child's Play

Best Precursor to the genre:

Black Christmas

Popular Classics:

Halloween

Friday the 13th

a Nightmare on Elm St

Pre 90's Slashers that I recommend:

The Dentist

Sleepaway Camp (it's divided on whether it's problematic or interesting representation)

Alice, Sweet Alice

My Bloody Valentine

Post 90's meta commentary/black comedy:

Scream

Behind the Mask: the Rise of Leslie Vernon

Hatchet

The Final Girls

Tucker and Dale vs Evil

There are obviously a lot more, but these are a few off the top of my head ❤️

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hussyknee · 2 months

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Somewhat put off by the spoilers I've read about Mary and George. There's no doubt nearly all relationships in the British court were some level of sordid, but King James, to all intents and purposes, had genuine feelings for his three male favourites, most especially George Villiers. He was no Henry VIII. I don't know why they wanted to reduce the most famous and open homosexual relationship in European royal history to a comedy between a "cock-struck" old lech and a conniving courtier that led him by the nose and then betrayed and murdered him.

All evidence points to George at least being loyal to James (if you discount his love letters as simply sucking up to his benefactor) and even had a fond relationship with his Queen and his son Charles. He was in fact in France when James died, and reportedly cried when he heard the news.

It's even a little heartbreaking because this is right after Nicholas Galitzine played the closeted gay Prince Henry in Red, White and Royal Blue, who in the book is proud of the open and unashamed love between his ancestor and his lover, and the way even James's son Charles I honoured Villiers for accompanying him to the Spanish Court to ask for the hand of the Infanta.

“Actually . . . you remember how I told you about the gay king, James I?”

“The one with the dumb jock boyfriend?”

“Yes, that one. Well, his most beloved favorite was a man named George Villiers. ‘The handsomest-bodied man in all of England,’ they called him. James was completely besotted. Everyone knew. This French poet, de Viau, wrote a poem about it.” He clears his throat and starts to recite: ‘One man fucks Monsieur le Grand, another fucks the Comte de Tonnerre , and it is well known that the King of England, fucks the Duke of Buckingham.’” Alex must be staring, because he adds, “Well, it rhymes in French. Anyway. Did you know the reason the King James translation of the Bible exists is because the Church of England was so displeased with James for flaunting his relationship with Villiers that he had the translation commissioned to appease them?”

“You’re kidding.”

“He stood in front of the Privy Council and said, ‘Christ had John, and I have George.’’

“Jesus.”

“Precisely.” Henry’s still looking up at the statue, but Alex can’t stop looking at him and the sly smile on his face, lost in his own thoughts. “And James’s son, Charles I, is the reason we have dear Samson. It’s the only Giambologna that ever left Florence. He was a gift to Charles from the King of Spain, and Charles gave it, this massive, absolutely priceless masterpiece of a sculpture, to Villiers. And a few centuries later, here he is. One of the most beautiful pieces we own, and we didn’t even steal it. We only needed Villiers and his trolloping ways with the queer monarchs. To me, if there were a registry of national gay landmarks in Britain, Samson would be on it.”

Henry’s beaming like a proud parent, like Samson is his, and Alex is hit with a wave of pride in kind.

He takes his phone out and lines up a shot, Henry standing there all soft and rumpled and smiling next to one of the most exquisite works of art in the world.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking a picture of a national gay landmark,” Alex tells him. “And also a statue.”

Like all white liberals, Casey McQuiston tends to romanticise the crime against humanity that is royalty and also that house built by bunch of slave owners that has since housed a progression of genocidal war criminals. There's very little to like about any British monarch. But the relationship between James and Villiers is a significant part of gay history and there's no need to smear it even more than it's already been smeared the last four hundred years, contrary to the actual known facts.

Idk man. I'm sensitive to this stuff Ig. Maybe I'd be a little more positive about it if I watched it, but the trailer gave me "tee hee they're gay" vibes so Idk if I want to.

Edit: so it seems the trailer is misleading and the story is more complex than a "tee hee gay" comedy. I might watch it after all, even if the starkly visible age difference makes me a bit queasy. How tf is Galitzine nearly thirty and a babyface with those razor cheekbones?? Perfect to show how uncomfortable it looks for a middle aged man to get with a kid of twenty.

#nicholas galitzine #mary and george spoilers #mary and george #british history #the stuarts #king james vi and i #george villers #king charles i #period drama #julianne moore #lgbtqia #lgbt history #queer media #queer representation #queer history #queer drama #knee of huss

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thegreatstoryteller · 1 year

Text

The Great Shift: Friendsgiving

“So we’ve got the turkey in the oven, the mashed potatoes being mashed, yams ready for serving, and gravy on the stove top! Am I missing anything?” Reggie asked looking eagerly at his boyfriend Roth.

“Nope! You’ve got everything honey. It’s gonna be fine. I already have dessert in the fridge and drink ready to pour. Tonight is gonna be great, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Roth consoled, looking up at his concerned man while rubbing the his lower back. His eager hands couldn’t resist pulling at the shorts Reggie liked to wear around the house when he went shirtless.

“I know.. I know.... it’s just been such a long time since we all got together. I’d been keeping up with Chan a bit... but the others only briefly... What.... has it been 3 years since the Great Shift?” Reggie said sullenly as if recounting the time.

“It sure has been. 3 years since the world went full on swap crazy... and 3 years since I got lucky enough to be swapped so close to you.” Roth smirked hugging his boyfriend lovingly.

Reggie smiled as he turned to gaze down into his boyfriend’s beautiful brown eyes, covered by glasses he didn’t originally need till it all happened. He couldn’t believe his luck. Nearly 3 Thanksgivings ago his friends Roth, Chan, Phil, Monty, and Joseph were all eager to be in town for their family’s celebrations. They were close all throughout high school and college and wanted were finally all in the same place. But then the shift happened. Reggie was in the kitchen helping his mom out with a meal when suddenly he was somewhere else entirely.... in someone else! He was having the most intimate moment he’d ever experienced with one of the most handsome men he’d ever seen! For the nerdy one of his group Reggie had never gotten remotely intimate with anyone, but now it was as if his body was moving on auto pilot. Thrusting, moaning, and kissing like a top notch adult film actor!

It was only after the most satisfying hour off passionate love making that he managed to come down from that high. The next few minutes were furious explanations and apologies, that were immediately shushed by who Reggie later learned was Roth! The former nerd couldn’t believe his straight best friend who played football and was a notorious ladies man was this incredibly cute African American twink who he’d just been inside of! Not to mention the glasses and Pokémon necklace completing the whole new nerdy look!

And when Reggie finally got a good look at himself there was no trace of the former nerd. Hard muscles and broad shoulders were the only thing anyone would see when they stared at him now. That and a handsome face, framed perfectly with his new Asian features. People would say he could be a model with that physique and bone structure, but his shy nature wouldn’t call for anything more than attention from his soon to be boyfriend.

Needless to say the rest was history. The two survived the strange transition from great shift craziness back to normal lives and had been living together and getting closer the entire time. Reggie as the newly Asian 6′2 fitness model. Roth as the nerdy 5′4 twink who had a knack for admiring his boyfriend’s body.

Soon the doorbell broke Reggie’s train of thought. “Oh that must be them! Mind taking the turkey out babe? I’m gonna get the door!” Reggie directed as he strode towards the doorway. When Reggie opened up he was greeted by the open smoldering smile of Chan.

“S’up guys. Great to see you. Looking good there Reggie. Guess I’m not the only one who’s been hitting the gym since the change! Now that I’m back in town maybe we can start working out again.” Chan smirked, his once thicker accent gone with time and apparently a new body.

Reggie simply hugged his friend still inwardly surprised. He’d kept up with Chan, but he hadn’t seen any pictures that would suggest he was now a white guy. Chan had been the second nerdiest of the group and a Chinese immigrant, originally meeting his friends when his parents moved for work. He stayed in college under a student visa and after they graduated was worried he’d be unable to continue living nearby when he couldn’t find work right away. Well then the shift happened landing him in the most American body he could think of with a thick East Coast accent!

“It was actually funny. When it happened I thought I was in some kind of dream, but it happened to be true. Once identities were being re-established I had to explain who I was and they had a hard time wanting to deport a guy who could barely speak Mandarin or Kantonese! Still sucks how I’m one of those guys who had that dang language aphasia post swap the prevents me from knowing words that my current body didn’t know. But hey, I may not be a language major anymore, but I at least got some solid work! Have to hold back saying things like ‘forget about it’ these days. It’s like a weird verbal compulsion, y’know?” Chan explained as he got inside to greet Roth.

Then the doorbell chimed once more and two larger men were there.

“Hey Reggie!... that is you right?” the first larger man said. The signature casual grin on that face was unmistakably Phil! There seemed to be no sign of his tall skinny friend who loved to smoke pot in the basement. “Y-yeah. This is me. Wow Phil! It’s great to see you again. Come on in.” The larger man laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ve seen that face all around town when I re introduce myself to people! I know I’ve put on some weight since you last saw me. I’ve been embracing my new dad bod these days, especially my new appetite! When I first got into this guy I was surprised to say the least. Not every day you gain over 100lbs and are sitting in front of some corporate desk job. And I lost my long silky hair! But hey, I’ve got this kickass beard now and a beefier bod! Not bad being 6′4 with these huge thick feet. They’re size 15 if you can believe! And of course I’m at least not alone. Monty is in the same big guy boat as me.”

Phil stepped aside as if to hide the pretty obvious big guy behind him.

“Yeah. Hi. Good to see you again Reggie. I take it Roth and Chan are already inside?” Monty asked. This larger guy looked less comfortable in his skin. Clothes clearly tight over his larger body.

“Yeah of course. They’re just in the kitchen. Dinner is about to be served soon.” Reggie explained as the two large bellies before him rumbled in excitement. “Gosh this embarrassing.” Monty winced. “I used to be the lean put together one of our group and now I can barely contain myself whenever someone mentions food.... a lot of things taste real good now... but I just can’t keep the weight off. I keep trying to do exercises and diets, but my self control isn’t what it used to be... but it’s at least good to see friends and... well Chan is always looking good these days.” Monty blushes. He was once a lean 5′10 with a runner’s build, and while he’d maintained his height it was now enlarged with a hefty coating of hair and fat.

Reggie wasn’t sure what to make of this but lead the two larger men to the table as Chan joined them. As the three friends caught up Reggie went back to the kitchen to see his smaller boyfriend struggling with taking the big turkey out of the oven.

“Here let me lend you a hand.” Reggie offered as he effortlessly grabbed some oven mitts and lifted the meal with ease.

“Thanks babe,” Roth smiled. “I forget I’m not as strong as I used to be. Chan offered to do some workouts later this week. Maybe I’ll join him! Get some of my old physique back.” Roth patted his lean arms of non existent muscle.

“I’d love that Roth. You’re the one who showed me how to maintain this body while the world was still going mad. I couldn’t have got through all that without you.” Reggie admitted with a blush.

“Hey, we got each other through all that.” Roth pulled his boyfriend in for another one of their legendary kisses, both men feeling the other stir with pleasure. When they release Roth smirked. “Now how about we get out there and serve them a delicious meal.” Reggie nodded excitedly and the two came out with the food.

It was clear for anyone at the table to see that Chan and Monty were making eyes at each other, but even that was broken when the food was placed and the feast began.

“Had anyone heard from Joey? I was hoping he’d come by too.” Roth asked as he passed the mashed potatoes.

“Oh you hadn’t heard?” Chan said. “Joey is going by Joseph now. He’s been all over social media ever since he turned into that hot straight guy. Look here’s his latest post.” Chan produced his phone and showed them a classic social media post with a cringe caption.

“Thankful for my busty babe Jessica for snapping me before my morning workout in Milan. #blessed #truefriends”

“Woah is that really Joey?” Reggie stared wide eyed. The Joey he knew was an outspoken gay man who was advocating for rights, while attending Pride! He was a shorter guy who had no problem grabbing people’s attention too. Granted he knew he was a bit of a horny twink at times, but still. The guy he was seeing seemed to post countless shirtless pics with beautiful women left and right. His latest post suggested he was traveling abroad with a collection of different hot women offering him places to stay throughout his trip.

“It really is. I tried to get him to come but he just said he had more babes to meet up and knew we’d understand.” Chan scoffed with disappointment.

Roth just shook his head. “What a jerk. Guess some people really let the shift change em for the worse.”

“Aw come on. Let’s not let o’l joey get us down.” Phil said patting the smaller guy on the back, nearly knocking him off the chair. “We got a whole table to be thankful for this year! And i’m not talking just about the food!”

They all laughed, comforted by Phil’s familiar light heartedness. “I’m just saying. We survived a weird time in human history and are still friends. I’m real lucky to have you guys here and wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Now that sounded like a cheers. How about we raise a glass?” Monty suggested.

“I like the sound of that.” Chan nodded as he held Monty’s thick hand under the table, causing both men to blush.

“To the people in our lives! And the one’s we’re lucky enough to call friends!” Phil cheered.

“Cheers!” “Salud!” “Here here!”

The group of friends continued to eat happy for the things they could be thankful for and were hoping for even more moments like this to share.

#thegreatstoryteller #body swap #age progression #gay to straight #Sexuality change #straight to gay #race change #racial change #The Great Shift

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bullet-prooflove · 4 months

Text

Scars: Bobby Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @trublu2u @yezzyyae @witches-unruly-heart @kmc1989

Bobby’s been told from an early age that he’s broken, unwanted. It’s a message that’s been carved into his soul through years of abuse and neglect in the foster system. Everyday when he looks in the mirror he sees those scars, the cigarette burns etched in a pattern up his torso.

When things start to get serious between the two of you, he’s shy about showing you his body. The echoes of his history litter his skin and he isn’t sure he’s ready for you to see the ugliness of his life.

In his world you’re the sunshine, the warmth on his skin as he steps out into the springtime air. You don’t know about his darkness, the nights he can’t get out of his own head because he’s reliving the suffering he’s endured.

All of that goes out of the window the evening that you undress for him. It’s been getting heated between the two of you, needy kisses and slow grinding on the couch that leads to you coming on his fingertips, his hand thrust into your jeans. You look beautiful underneath him, fucked out with swollen lips from his kisses.

“There’s something I need to show you.” You say in the aftermath, slipping from the couch and raising to your feet. “It’s the reason we’ve been taking things slow.”

You don’t look at him as you unbutton the blouse that you’re wearing, you strip off the fabric to reveal your skin and he sees he’s not the only one that’s been keeping secrets.

Four years ago, there was an SVU investigation into a sex trafficker called Herman Holmes. He used to brand the girls with his initials, always in the same place, upon the curve of the left breast. He wanted to be able to see it when he fucked them, to know what they belonged to him. SVU had managed to get an operative into the organisation, a female detective to posing as a madam. It had turned into a shitshow when he’d taken a shine to her, decided to make her one of his girls. Bobby knows the story, every cop in Manhattan does because it’s a UC’s worse nightmare.

When he sees the brand on your skin, the ridges of it bright pink against your flesh, his jaw clenches. You were missing for over fifteen hours, and he knows the kind of bad shit that can happen in that time.

When you see the expression on his face, he feels you withdrawing. You swallow hard, your gaze turning distance as you begin to button up your blouse.

“Yea.” You say focusing on the task. “I thought as much.”

It’s happened before, he can tell. Someone has looked at you and decided you’re not worth their time, their effort. They’ve told you that the trauma was too much to handle, that you’re too much. That’s not Bobby though, he sees the beauty in you, the compassion, the kindness.

He captures your hand before you can bolt, his fingers threading through yours as he draws you back into his lap.

“You’re not the only one who knows how cruel this world is.” He tells you, taking your palm and guiding it underneath the hem of his Henley. He exhales as your fingertips trace over one of the cigarette burns. “Who knows what it’s like to be marked by it.”

“Bobby…” You whisper and his thumb ghosts over the apple of your cheek.

“You’re not ugly.” He tells you, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and I’m sorry you felt you had to hide this from me.”

“You know that goes both ways. You’re an attractive man, I’d be lucky to have you” You say as you look into his eyes and in that moment he believes you, because you’re the same you and him, both battered by the world, scarred by it but not broken, never broken.

“You do have me.” He tells you, his lips brushing over yours. “You’ll always have me.”

Love Bobby? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

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#bobby reyes #bobby reyes x reader #bobby reyes x you #law and order organized crime

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things-about-cars-in-posts · 7 months

Note

got any favorite cars from the 24 hours of lemons? (and perhaps some facts about them)

Sure, but not before explaining to the audience!

So, you know how, when you start your car, you turn the key and it starts, and you don't have to fiddle around trying to get the air/fuel mixture to make the damn thing run and stop embarrassing you? And how it has disc brakes, halogen lightbulbs if you've got the standard version and a wing if you've got the sporty one? Yeah, this is all thanks to the century-old 24 Hours of Le Mans, so coveted by manufacturers as to push them to develop all those innovations which would later trickle down into sportscars. They made two movies about it. It is, without question, the most prestigious, serious and expensive endurance race ever.

And this is the 24 Hours of Lemons - without question, the least prestigious, serious and expensive endurance race ever.

It is most famous for the rule that ensures that: to keep you from racing anything but a lemon, a beater, a crapcan, a piece of... well, by now even the unaware have figured out what lemon means in the car world, there is a budget cap. To be precise, $500. Yes, that includes both car and performance enhancing modifications - but notably exempt are safety equipment and decorations. I say notably because decorations are a key component of the Lemons atmosphere in a way I consider best conveyed by a "progressively gets worse" slideshow.

Yes, these are all real vehicles that raced. As you can imagine, regulations are pretty lax. And mostly vibe-based.

So, now that we're up to speed, my favorites!

Favorite as in greatest job from the team? Probably (although I am biased) the Eyesore Racing Miata.

youtube

And since you asked for some fun facts, I have a little treat for you that even the typically impeccable Donut Bumper (or lack thereof) to Bumper (or lack thereof) video about it missed out on:

The team won Lemons' coveted Best Use Of Dangerous Banned Automotive Technology award (yes that is a thing) by cleverly reusing the motor that used to drive the pop-up headlights!

youtube

Favorite as in coolest car used? That might be a tossup (i.e. I am not going to wait for the undoubtedly long list of cooler base cars to shower my mind so I will call it a tossup) between the Chrysler Conquest ran by multiple teams though Lemons' history (specifically the TSis for their sexy flared fenders)...

... and B-Team Racing's Lotus Elite (seen here in two of its many liveries) which, due to its newfound Chevy engine, earned it the name Chotus. Why yes there's a website.

Favorite as in most beautiful car used? That might be a tossup between French Foreign Legion Action Team's Peugeot 505...

...or the engine-swapped second generation Chevrolet Corvair Coupe of... wait, multiple teams?

Favorite in terms of most beautiful decorations? That might be a tossup between the Honda Accord of Stanford students team Buck Ferkeley...

...and SilverSleeve Racing's incredibly-engined frankensteined Wolseley Hornet (for when a Mini is just not coupe nor posh enough)

Favorite as in greatest combination? That might be a tossup between two incredibly different interpretations of sportscar + truck: the Boneyard Butchers' mix of Saturn Sky and Chevrolet Colorado -the more you look at it, the harder it goes-...

...or the Porsche Honkeys' outstanding take on the popular Porsche 944 + V8 recipe that came when they decided to use the rest of the Chevy C10 they got for the engine: the Mulletmobile.

youtube

Favorite as in the bravest, most heroic, most Lemons feat? Well, given Lemons started as a way to experience racing without the pressure and expectations of high-tier stuff and eternally heralds the notioon that a racecar is any car you race, how could I ever go with anything but the far-too-slow-for-any-steadiness-to-remedy, Cali-bought-and-roadtripped-to-Kansas Toyota motherfucking Chinook.

Favorite as in favorite team name? I doubt it, but here you go: Off To Gay Porn. They called themselves this to ensure everyone who beat them could proudly say they beat Off To Gay Porn! And as you could notice, yes, so many of them are this good.

youtube

Links in blue are posts of mine explaining the words in question - if you liked this post, you might like those!

#24h of lemons #na mazda miata #chrysler conquest #mitsubishi starion #(they are the same car just different badges)#lotus elite #peugeot 505 #wolseley hornet #mini #saturn sky #chevrolet colorado #porsche 944 #chevy c10 #toyota hilux #toyota chinook

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sukugo · 7 months

Note

i have to ask because i adore you and i want to know about your new blorbos- who are they and what are they and why are they always soaked in blood

JDHSJFHJFDDJFFSDFDF, oh man where do i start cassie.

they're from the anime/manga jujutsu kaisen, and they are:

gojo satoru. love of my fucking life. my fucking everything my boy my man, i am so so in LOVE with this man i cant even begin to tell u. he consumes my every waking thought, my life is dedicated to seeing him get fucked. (he's the guy in my header humping his all into the other's arm)

and (ryoumen) sukuna. beautiful sexy evil man.

(can u tell who's my fave)

so in this world, we have jujutsu sorcerers, who are people with special powers that they use to defeat/exorcise curses, which are basically evil spirits born of negative human emotions

gojo is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer alive. he is insanely strong, not a single person can go against him. his powers make it so that u literally physically cannot touch him. he controls "infinity" and can warp space, and he also has pretty special eyes that let him perceive things at a much deeper level than a regular person. those two things combined make him quite literally untouchable. and insanely powerful.

as for sukuna, he used to be a human who lived thousands of years ago, who used to be the strongest sorcerer of his time, and is considered to be the strongest sorcerer in history. he is the King of Curses, no one could ever defeat him, or destroy his soul, which he divided into his 20 preserved fingers so it would survive through time, even after dying.

so itadori yuuji

this lil baby boy (literally the babiest sweetest boy to exist btw) (he's actually the main character haha)

due to some stuff, he ends up eating one of sukuna's mummified fingers and sukuna reincarnates inside him. yuuji becomes a vessel for sukuna, who lives inside yuuji's mind now and sometimes takes over his body (reason why they look the same)

and now, yuuji is sentenced to be executed bc he holds the most evil sorcerer in history inside him, but gojo goes nope! wait a minute, let's not do that. and manages to convince the people in charge to postpone yuuji's execution, saying that they'll get yuuji to find and eat all of sukuna's fingers and then execute him, getting rid of sukuna all in one go.

ok so that's the context (that's actually what the anime's about haha), but as to gojo and sukuna.

THEY ARE IN LOVE

well, they're there. sdkkhfkjdkfdf

ok no, so like they do their things right. gojo is a teacher (tho we never actually see him do any teaching lmao) and sukuna lives inside yuuji and causes trouble sometimes. they don't really ever interact in the story (they literally meet and have a lil confrontation, decide to kill each other and never talk again djshjfdasdadfd) (until they actually have their Fight, more on that later)

BUT!!!!!!!! they may not interact, but they are completely tied together narratively.

as u can see, they're both the strongest from their respective times, so they have a lot of links when it comes to their characters themselves and what they are referred to in the story. specifically that, in being the strongest, they exist in a plane above everyone else, literally untouchable.

now, in the story, this position of strongest is coupled with solitude, being the strongest meaning u're alone and no one else understands you bc of this

and SO they have their fight. bc plot reasons right. this is obv what it was all gonna lead to. fight of the two strongest.

and the fight, consequently, revolves around that idea of solitude, and understanding each other.

which like. ok. yeah we saw that coming. ofc. no big deal.

EXCEPT, to make reference to their relationship and that idea of understanding each other, the term that is used is, and i kid u not, love.

there's a very specific phrase that is used multiple times between them. which is actually used originally with a character who shows romantic feelings towards sukuna.

she challenges sukuna to a fight and sukuna promises to marry her if she wins. her goal in this fight is to share in sukuna's solitude and show him love (read R→L)

but she says this to sukuna and this. this is his reaction.

SUKUNA KNOWS LOVE ALREADY

to which she gets super pissed bc that's not!!! love!!!!!!!

sukuna defeats/kills her. and u know when the next time that exact fucking phrase is used? when sukuna and gojo finally meet again and set up the date to have their Fight, where sukuna remembers her words

which tells us that.

sukuna was.

thinking about gojo when she said that.

*screams into hands*

BUT IT DOESN'T STOP THERE. this phrase is then repeated. multiple times.

1. right after gojo punches the fuck out of sukuna:

2. said in reference to gojo, when he realizes there's a chance of him losing:

3. gojo reminiscing about their fight:

so, as u can see, they were going to teach each other love. their fight is. canonically. about teaching each other love. what the FUCK.

but ENOUGH love talk (or else i'm at risk of going crazy insane)

LET'S TALK ABOUT HOW THEY'RE LOADED WITH SEXUAL TENSION

this was in their first meeting where they fought (for quite literally 10 seconds)

like... why he do dat.... .......... . ....

next day sukuna goes "hey im gonna kill u first <3" and gojo just goes "teehee omg really? *hair twirl* <3"

they also decide to have their final battle on dec 24 which is like a super romantic date in japan (explicitly said so by another character)

and their FIGHT. it is LITERALLY just them flirting and touching each other

LOOK AT THIS SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i fucking lost it. i still haven't recovered. that is the hottest thing i've ever seen in my life. gojo wants that dick so fucking bad

not to mention thigh grabs and hand touchies

and the entirety of the fight is just them having fun 😭😭 they're supposed "enemies" on opposite sides and the fate of the world is at stake here, but they actually don't give a fuck about that.

they're literally smiling and having a great fucking time. this fight for them is just play. their fight is just for them to have fun as the strongest and to connect with each other. they're enemies but they don't hate each other or anything, they only search for that sense of fulfillment in each other OTL

AND ABOUT THAT, oh my GOD

sukuna wins. he defeats gojo. and at the end, this. is what sukuna says to gojo at the end of the fight:

FUCKING. I'LL NEVER FORGET YOU. SCREAAAAM THAT'S ROMANCEEEEEE.

and the soft smile? the fucking petals falling all over them? oh GOD they're trying to kill me

but that's on sukuna's side, what about for gojo? well

HE GENUINELY TRIED TO REACH SUKUNA, GAVE IT HIS ALL TO CONNECT WITH HIM. TO TEACH HIM LOVE AGFKDHSKFHFKJFHDF (BUT HE FAILED HE COULDN'T GIVE SUKUNA WHAT SUKUNA GAVE HIM 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭)

HHRRRRGJFHSJDFHDSJFSDFA KJHDKFJSFKASLDKS ADKJKFHEWRKJEKRKTRELRW

and if i start crying OTL

but alas *deep breaths*

even without all that they're just very fucking sexy. two insane powerful men going at it? come on. how could u NOT want them together. they both hold the same title of the strongest, might as fucking well fuck nasty about it.

and oh god, when i tell u gojo is a fucking brat and he's so strong and untouchable, but then sukuna is capable of putting him down which is. insanely sexy. and i need it. i need gojo obliterated. and i know sukuna won't let me down (AND HE DID NOT. HE OBLITERATED THAT MAN) can he now obliterate his holes too

agdkhfhdkhdhs, anyways.... yeah.. that is the situation.........

im just gonna end this by saying

SUKUGO MY LOVES

#f.ask #jjk #sukugo #i fr laughed so much at 'why are they always soaked in blood' sajhdkashfkjasflaf bc yeah yeah they are #and it's bc the fight's the only proper interaction they've had that was longer than a few seconds jhashdksafjk 😭😭😭#they're actually not new blorbos haha. i've had them for over three years since the anime first came out and i got obsessed #then i got into other stuff as u know. but right now my obsession has reawakened :D #but yes they're my otp yeah they're a fucking rarepair #jk tho. honestly honestly they arent a rarepair. not anymore #it just feel like it here on tumblr dfksdjfkdsj 😭😔#they used to be tho. it was so bad back then that i was literally the one who had to create the ship tag ajfhjasgfajhkahf #which like..i mean yeah. bc before it was ONLY their first meeting 10 sec confrontation and that 5 sec 'ill kill u' 'im honored'#that was IT for 3 years. their actual fight is recent #and it fucking killed me bc it was SO SO SO GAY. my starved lil heart was given so MUCH #IN CONCLUSION #i just want sukuna to fuck gojo that is all thank u for coming to my ted talk sukugo my beloveds <3 #i feel like ive rambled too much hdasgdisfhkjafdkjdasds SO SORRY for making u read all that 🙈🙈🙈#i hope all this makes sense #and that it makes my posts a bit more comprehensible hahaha #giving u the biggest KISS <333333 #and idk if u're interested in it but if u are then i'd def def recommend jujutsu kaisen!! it's really good its super fun!!!#full of Pain and Suffering too but like. shhh. it's super cool.

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seoness · 8 months

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Sandor with a s/o who loves to draw/sketch/paint him? It can be hcs or a drabble or anything really.

Book!Sandor please. He’s so ugly I love him. ☹️❤️‍🩹

Praise be, praise be. Ugly is hot. Now this is a miracle, but I'll not waste a thousand words haggling over the fact that the features he's described to have are actually those which I consider attractive BUT this is not a complete miracle and I will instead ramble on about the issue of painting/drawing/sketching.

We don't see it much in ASOIAF. The artistry mentioned is often mummery, embroidery/needling, sculptures, and tapestries. (Although some armors seem to be quite the works of art, I am looking at you Ser Loras Tyrell).

Now, I am not claiming that this activity doesn't exist but I will be using our own history as a reference. Painting and even drawing/sketching were expensive back in the day (especially painting). Parchment isn't cheap. We don't really see nobles or the Faith acting as patrons for any type of painter. The only thing I can think of is shield-painters. So for the sake of ease, I am making this SO a member of nobility.

Headcanon

Every artist has their goal. To capture beauty, spark creativity, make a mark, or simply suck a little less.

It's a cliché to moan about not being understood, so you try to not moan too much when those around you don't understand. You smile, a knowing smile, often pared with a light nod. The "please-stop-and-please-do-not-make-me-ask-you-to"-nod. You've mastered it.

The thing is... a face is a face. Sure, the features change a bit but the principle remains the same. It's one of the things you never say out loud. How boring drawing can make the world. You study it, sure, but you study to capture not to admire. That can come later. Only if later ever came.

Every person has their own impossible. Some feat, some dream, something out of reach. Yours walked around the halls of the Red Keep.

Sandor Clegane was incredible. His face was incredible.

Plenty of people came to you for a portrait. Not him. One of the guards had asked you to draw him without the scar, curious how the man would look unburnt but it was one of the few portraits you refused. You never told Clegane, of course. The thought of that made you shutter. The guard would have stopped his howls long before Clegane stopped his fist from meeting the poor sod's face.

The solution was simple. You never asked for permission.

It wasn't a perfect likeness. You forgave yourself for that. After all, you had only managed to study him in passing but even the unburnt side of his face was difficult to do justice. He was more rugged. Harsher. Sader. You couldn't draw the burnt side. It was too intimate and you couldn't shake the sense that you wanted to do it justice.

So you continued. It became your secret. The ever-growing bundle of drawings of the Hound. Whenever you passed him in the hall your heartbeat soared, what if he could tell? What if he could sense that you carried him around? Glimpses set on parchment.

He was handsome. Fine, ugly by most people's count, but he was. No one else had a face you could study endlessly and never tire, but he did.

One evening you set out, it wasn't even to find him. Princess Myrcella wanted you to draw one of the birds in the garden for her little brother. The bundle of Hound-drawings just came with. They had grown into a source of comfort and shame. What if some servant found them? What if he was told? You'd die. If not by his hand, your own heart would just die right there on the spot.

Clegane shouldn't even have been there. The garden wasn't for him.

The collision was brutal... well, brutal for you. It didn't as much as budge him. Clegane remained a tower of darkened steel and you became a mess of cloth, parchment, powdered coal and a broken brush.

As you gathered the drawings you felt his gaze burning into your neck. Was it too late to tattle on the guard who wanted him drawn unburnt? Better him than you.

Clegane said something. You didn't hear, not while you talked over him and past him. You couldn't even retell what was said, you just talked and talked while you fled like a scorched rat.

Dorne? Sothoryos? Perhaps you could board a ship sailing toward the Jade Sea? Forsake your name and house and simply disappear. Yes, a sound plan. A fine plan.

Clegane didn't find you right away. Two days passed before he caught you in the hall, heading towards the Princess to deliver her drawing. There was no question, just a command: "Talk." You'd never been so quiet and so he shook you and repeated the command. "I was bored," you said, "and you're difficult to draw, interesting to draw. I haven't shown them to anyone... you could have them if you like or I'll destroy them if that's any better."

Clegane said nothing. He just released you and once again you scurried away like a scorched rat.

By nightfall a knock filled your bedchamber. Before you even opened the door, the stench of wine and ale seeped through the cracks.

Clegane didn't say a word as he stormed inside. You didn't even manage to tell yourself a prayer that it was drink that reddened his face. Rage, hot and black, filled his grey eyes. "That the lot of you do? Pissing yourself with fear before me and snicker behind my back," he spat, "interesting." "You are interesting," you answered meekly.

The chair let out a crack as his body slammed down upon it. The laughter thick in his throat. "Draw then. Go on, if it's any good I might let you live."

So you drew him. Clegane never told you if he thought the drawing any good, but surviving that night was answer enough.

Strangely enough, you hoped he'd come again. You'd take more time, allow yourself to admire him. Just for a moment.

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader

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bella-rose29 · 3 months

Text

episode 1 commentary - This Will Be Us

Lockwood and Co on Netflix

spoilers obviously (for both the books and the show), and I'm gonna put swearing even though I haven't written anything yet, I was apparently very in love with all three of them and also I was very feral about lockwood too (that's definitely a warning)

edit: definitely swearing, and also there's no context for most of this so if you don't know the show that well then good luck (and go watch it, it's really good!)

omg I just realised that the first episode starts with a ghost lamp and the last episode starts with a ghost lamp

cameron's voice omg

cameron's hands omg

I need to calm down it's like 30 seconds in

I love that before they show their faces they show all the equipment it really sets the vibe omg

"Greek fire, which should only ever be used indoors under carefully controlled circumstances" lol

don't think of another four, Lockwood, you don't remember the ones 6 you have

lockwood straightening up his tie and sniffing is so funny to me and idk why

I love that they use the shadow inside mrs hope's house!!!

"problem" being emphasised omg (I'm almost certainly reading into everything too much)

Cameron Chapman you beautiful beautiful boy

omg I just realised they switched lockwood and lucy's lines around??? in the books lockwood's the one who calls adults useless and I think that sets up his charm in the show so much better but also sets up their personalities much better? like lockwood is the charming smiley one that everyone loves, and Lucy is prone to being a bit of a menace

the way lockwood looks around at her after she says adults are useless 💀

mrs hope is so much posher than I remember her being

love that she just ignores lockwood and only talks to lucy

omg they swapped again, in the book lockwood is the one who says 'the cleverer one' after Lucy asks 'sarcastic or ironic?' - don't get me wrong I love this show so much but I feel like it takes away some of lockwood's childish-ness (idk if that's a word)? like in the books he's quite often just a silly little boy making jokes

his hands

I love that they have loads of green lighting

oh lockwood you silly little man you absolutely need chains

eat that biscuit luce (now I want a biscuit)

wooo ghost

yeah no shit lockwood

"been too busy trying to make contact with the living" mood

"of course she is, she's dead" lockwood my man 💀

how the hell did Lucy manage to hold on to that painting I would have just fallen off and died

omgomgomg starting credits omgomgomg

ew mrs carlyle can go suck a dick

Lucy looks like she'd much rather be anywhere else in the world

ugh don't say that "gonna give me a smile, young lady?" fuck off

omg Lucy :(

I love that they show us the defences omg

Lucy and norrie omg

"the more proficient you become, the longer you'll live" how come that doesn't happen with lockwood then bc he's very proficient with a rapier but he has such a death wish

oh luce

"we'll be on the cover of every magazine" crazy how in the space of less than a year Lucy changes from being like lockwood and wanting to be "the most famous agents in the country" to not wanting her face on tv or on any papers at all

Marissa fittes? coming back? from the dead? whaaat that would never happen norrie don't be sillyyyy

THIS WILL BE US omg I never realised I always thought it was like 'oh, this'll be us' like George or lockwood saying that to Lucy when she first comes to Portland Row bc that's what people say when they're being walked back or something idk I just never realised it was Lucy and norrie???

is anything more lesbian than giving your solemn and binding promise to each other and then threading your fingers through her hair?

everything points to a type one bro shut the fuck up

"she changed everything" Marissa sure did

"closer to her than you'll ever be. closer to history" oh my dear Jacobs, you have no idea what lucy's gonna do

Paul you are so right you would love to meet George (kinda sad they didn't meet tbh)

Jacobs you prick

ngl that ghost sounds terrifying wtf

Paul don't be silly

don't be silly paul

idiots

Jacobs you prick

JACOBS YOU PRICK

what did Lucy trip over?

:(((( Paul :((((

no way that bastard didn't hear her screaming

JACOBS YOU PRICK

YOU DID HEAR CRIES FOR HELP YOU PRICKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

can you tell I'm mad I was so angrily smashing that k key

norrie :(((((((

SHE DIDNT CAUSE THEIR DEATHS OMG YOU BITCH

omg parallel!! bc lockwood thinks he caused his family's death (especially jess') even though he didn't and Lucy didn't cause their deaths but she doesn't blame herself

"you are deader than dead" ooooo burn

where tf did she get that sellotape from

omg fittes building

is there anything more British than a really long queue

poor babygirl is hungry :(((

paused to read the paper cutting of lockwood and co's ad and I can just imagine lockwood telling George what to put omg "prestigious Psychical Investigations agency", "well dressed", "UNSUCCESSFUL APPLICANTS will include time-wasters, fraudsters and persons with criminal records" love the range there

also the address is literally just 35 Portland Row, London, like is there only one 35 Portland Row in the entirety of London??? apparently so

AAA PORTLAND ROW

AAA GEORGE

he looks and sounds so dead inside

omg it's so homely

she's a wimp

George wtf "see, told you so, okie-dokie"

heart eyes immediately lol (honestly same I love them both - the joys of being bi ig)

"hello, I'm Anthony Lockwood" hello, I'm your future wife

make the tea and drink the extra cup, George, that's what I would do

I love that he doesn't pressure her for the story!!! because he knows what that's like!!!

Anthony Lockwood chooses bourbons everyone

Skully!!!

George picking up his comic is so passive aggressive

are all of his family dead wtf?

he's so excited to talk about Harold beck

George is interested now ooo creepy cup

I love that Lucy and George immediately don't like each other

omg George's laugh

jokes on you lockwood's parents are dead (bad joke)

"deep armchair" I'm sure it is, Georgie.

"miss carlyle" bro

you can definitely give me a tour of the house anytime (especially your room)

"teen prodigy slays the competition" fuck yeah he slays

if you pause the episode and squint really hard you can read the article on the fencing matches he did and they actually wrote an article - my favourite quote (from what I could make out) is "Kipps attempted a few bold lunges but missed Lockwood each time"

also he looks so happy in the photo omg so baby

his hands

HIS HANDS omg I think I'm going feral for them

his smile ughhhhh

lockwood you're talking very fast I can't keep up

the face he makes when he turns the smoke jets on his fucking hilarious

literally this one:

also the way he stands??? I think I'm in too deep oh dear

"high security storeroom" sure honey tell yourself that

HIS SMILE

if lockwood was my landlord I don't think I'd have quite so much stress about finding a place to rent next year

HIS. SMILE.

"you saw those" yeah of course she did, they're in plain view bestie

"that's... if you'll take the job?" bro's so in love and he doesn't even know it yet (I need to stop using bro unironically bc it's making me sad)

HIS. SMILE.

can you tell I love his smile

George just spawning out of nowhere with no trousers on

if I didn't already know that Georgie really needs a wee I'd be able to tell from how he answered her questions before she'd even finished talking

AAAAAAA A A A AAAAAAAAAA

your honour I love him

ok but the apple core being left on a chair is such a boy thing my brother does that

bitch why do you wanna see his picture you've got the real thing right in front of you

ok but if he talked to me the way he talks to Lucy in the library I would simply pass away

"I want you to be part of it" OKAY SIR. OKAY.

"how do I know you're good enough for me?" cuts to him saving her life

he did not need to do that fancy kick off the wall but he did it anyway

okay but they hold each other so much it's ridiculous

why can't someone hold me like that

"ghosts don't have feelings" 🥺

"oops" lockwood I love you but you can't just break the circle

"you've done that already, try something new why don't you" 😭

oh no

fire

boy desperately calls out for his wife when she stares at a dead body instead of jumping from a burning building

#belle's episode commentaries #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim/george cubbins #quill kipps #montague barnes

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the-90s-music-colosseum · 6 months

Text

Round 3 Match 3

propaganda below the cut! (wall of text warning)

Björk:

"sooo pretty"

"Björk looks like her music sounds. Out of this world and beautiful"

"she's like the chipmunk who visits my window"

"She is mjother. She has the range, the versatility to serve any and every kind of beautiful you could ever want. She went from cute art pop girly to icy electronic queen in the span of a few years. She served cunt while dealing with the fallout of divorce. And then immediately pivoted to ethereality and fairies. An icon. Oh also, all of Vespertine exists. Need I say more?"

"She IS grateful grapefruit. No one is doing it like Björk she's so one of a kind and insane and very beautiful and everyone should vote for her. A vote for Björk is a vote for Icelandics everywhere!!!!!!!"

"Björk's voice had such a beautiful clarity and delicate chastity that has infused some of the loveliest songs to ever be written. She is an angel that came down from the Heavens to bless us all with her talent, her mind and her grace. Vespertine, with the most elegantly crafted songs of Pagan Poetry, Cocoon, It's Not Up To You and every other majestic opus on the album stands as the most mystical, tragic, and sensual exploration of love and the core of us that makes us human, our souls. And my second favourite album only to In Rainbows. And all her other albums are great too. Just Google I Love To Love by Björk which is a cover but still shows you that she was the most talented sweetheart ever, even at 6 years old. She is my fire, the one desire. I quoted Backstreet Boys, that should tell you how dedicated I am to this cause. If that still doesn't persuade you however, I'll have you know that Justine Frischmann burned my house to the ground, frequently urinates on my lawn, abducted my mom, pushed my grandmother down a flight of stairs on her trip to Manchester and chopped my dad's "you know what" off to use as a heirloom for her house. She is a nasty and crazy woman. Vote Björk, our Icelandic queen."

"bjork is sexy in a mind-expanding way. she would [redacted] and then teach u how to build a computer. my partner says she makes music for autistic people to have sex to. also history ot touches ??????? hello????"

"Have you seen the swan dress? She's an icon and she is the moment"

"swan dress. need i say more"

(the dress in question)

Dave Grohl:

"Dave grohl. Where do I begin? THIS MAN IS GOD. I WANT HIM TO STRANGLE ME WITH THOSE GIANT TATTOOED ARMS AND STEP ON MY SPINE. I'M NOT KIDDING"

"multiple things to do to/with dave grohl (all affectionately) : 1.) shrink him, hold him in my hands and study him 2.) put him in a washing machine and watch him spin 3.) talk to him for hours on end 4.) wash his hair 5.) ask him about his hair routine 6.) give him a little forehead kiss 7.) bbq with him"

"HOW could anyone NOT pick 90s Dave? He was SOOO beautiful 😫😫 Especially in Nirvana,come ON"

"I mean- just look at the man. If I ever saw him in real life I think I'd unexplainably combust on the spot. I'd sell my grandfather at a garage sale for him."

#most attractive 90s musician #polls #poll #90s music #tournament #björk #dave grohl #nirvana #foo fighters

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bnuuys-writing · 10 months

Text

CHAPTER TWO. OVERTURE. Phantom of The Opera x Twisted Wonderland

Here is chapter two for you guys! I hope you enjoy!!

Chapter One, Chapter Two(You are here!), Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Leona's Ending, Malleus' Ending

~Bnuuy Out!

The year is 1919, in France. Within a bustling city in the center of town stands a magnifique Opera House, its dazzling lights outside its carefully intricate carved walls tells a story of Regalty, Royalty, and an awe inspiring show promising to be played within, yet; the inside simply tells another story, begging to be read by the others within the towns history.

The echo of the tapping cane reverberated within the desolate walls of the opera house. Which stood so beautifully with glamour and shine that now holds cobwebs and dust as if it were trying to hide itself away from the world. Leona sat there in a chair, overall confused on how he had even arrived here. He held all of his memories intact but perhaps that was because he was a powerful mage? All he knew was that in his mind was Y/N.

I have to save Y/N.

“Alrighty then! Lot 665, a monkey playing the cymbals, dressed in persuasion robes with the heart of a barrel organ! It has been stated that this item has been found in the very catacombs of the opera house. Ladies and Gentleman, shall we start off the bidding with 15 francs?” An unknown man stated out, standing on top of a podium, looking out amongst the small crowd before him.

Leona’s hand raised up without him knowing. A grunt of disapproval ripped out from his chest as he saw a familiar faces that he would honestly rather forget. Lilia Vanrougue. Lilia raised up his hand as the bidding continued, only for Leona to raise up his hand once more, raising the bid again.

“Do I hear 35 francs…?” The auctioneer’s gaze looked over at the old bat who only seemed to smile cockily at Leona, before shaking his head no. That little bastard making the price higher than needed… The sound of a hammer echoed within the desolate theater as the music box was sold to Leona De Kingscholar. Clawed hands reached forward for the barrel organ monkey as he began to look over it slowly, a memory forcing up into his mind that most certainly did NOT belong to him.

A collectors piece, indeed… Every detail, exactly as they said… Will you still play when all the rest of us are dead?

Shaking his head out of his stupor, he let out an annoyed grunt as he shifted around. The auctioneer cleared his throat as he motioned to a certain hanging over something quite large within the spacious room. Slowly, the auction would start as he read over the paper within his hands.

“Lot 666, a chandelier in pieces. Some of you may recall the strange affair of a Phantom hiding within this opera house, a mystery quite never fully explained. With the newly invented electricity, we are hoping to frighten away any ghosts, with a bit of illumination… Gentleman!” Sparks of electricity began to flood the room as a once nicely candle lit chandelier, now solely powered by the new electricity, began to float up towards the sky as everything began to shift around them. Dust flew off the walls, cobwebs floated off as if they were never there before. Old paint flashed anew as the beautiful statues were shining as if they were just proudly polished. Leona and Lilia looked at each other before they both completely faded away from each other's existence. The Mission has started.

The year was now 1881, the opera house was busier than ever with rehearsals. Chatterings of different conversations being echoed throughout the plywood walls, ballerinas running up and down the stairs trying to collect all their items. Stone masons working hard on their next project. Costume designers sewing and taking measurements. Towels, blankets, things that needed to be air dried being hung up over the railings as three important figures swam through the current of workers.

“Y/N, Silver, hurry up! Otherwise we will be late for practice!” Sebek seethed out at the two of you, not wanting to face Lilia’s wrath during their ballet practice. Silver could only groan as he was tugged along by Sebek and you just laughed as the trio of you ran down the stairs. Sebek and Silver had recalled the mission once they had entered the opera house with the help of Lilia’s wise words.

Remember, we are trying to find Y/N. We are in a book. I have already located Malleus but he must remain hidden for now.

Taking deep breaths as you ran past the trio of eyes, something was already boiling behind them as they watched your figure join your colleagues of ballerinas, ready for practice. Lilia watched as Sebek and Silver returned to your sides, posted like good loyal knights, yet there was no need for that because of course! This is ballet, and to Sebek’s dismay and like as if he would ever admit to it… Ballet was hard.

To the open stage, the orchestra was loudly playing as others marched around what seemed to be a very painted up Vil. Of course, these potatoes could all learn something from him as they all continued to parade upon his outfit and rip it here and there. What they all needed was discipline and to move with grace, not march around as they were! But what can you do when all you work with are lousy drunks who most likely do not care for the mastery of Opera? Including poor Rook who was struggling with his accent.

“It is not Ro-ma. It is ROME.” The conductor had stopped once more to shout at Rook who could only smile and shake his head. “My many apologies monsieur, it is just quite hard to grasp the foundation of what play we are exactly playing… Perhaps we can go over it once more?” Rook asked out which only caused the conductor to sigh. Though, could you blame them? Y/N had spoken about musicals and plays and whoever this Shakespear was from their world but never really got too deep into them. Hannibal was one of them, and although all of them had come to realize that they were in your world, something about it screamed as if they were in the wrong century of when Y/N was originally from.

“Excuse me, good sir! I have an important announcement to make!” The manager spoke, coming onto the stage as Vil only sighed. Of course he would have an announcement right in the middle of rehearsals, if they only knew who he really was, there would be NO interrupting rehearsals. “I have wanted to say- All the rumors are true, I am retiring!” Vil rolled his eyes, he was certain everyone knew that their manager would be retiring soon but to be replaced by who? His violet colored hues trailed behind his now ex-manager only to freeze.

Of course it would be Azul and the Tweels.

“The opera house will now be under the management of Azul Ashengrotto and his companions Jade and Floyd Leech. After their business of conducting an underground business-”

“A club.” Azul interjected with a serene smile, causing others within the room to sweatdrop slightly.

“-As I was saying; They will be your new managers, so make sure to treat them with plenty of respect!” The man finished as he welcomed the trio to the front of him, perhaps trying to get out of the spotlight like a certain Crow back in NRC? Who knows.

“We are deeply honored to with by your side and we would love to introduce to you our new Patron, Leona De Kingscholar!” Azul stated out, perhaps with some grit between his words. Afterall, he didnt forget about what Leona had done to his precious contracts within their homeworld but in order to save Y/N from the book, they had to push past their differences and move forward.

The clicking of heels echoed within the open theater as a certain lion reached up beside the mer-people, a growl within his throat as he looked out towards the crowd. Of course they were all here already. Vil, Rook, Azul and the Tweels, and if he looked a bit closer; is that Lilia?

“It is an honor to meet you Sir Kingscholar.” Vil stated out, tearing Leona’s gaze back to focus on the pompous Pomefire dormleader. A hand was held out towards Leona’s face and a smug smirk was plastered all over Vil’s face. Huffing, Leona’s hand grasped Vil’s own and gently placed upon the decorated gold hand, a soft kiss.

“The pleasure is all mine.. Now, don't let me interrupt you anymore. Carry on. I shall be here tonight to celebrate in your victorious show.” With that, Leona turned on his tail quickly and began to walk through the corridor, passing you with Silver and Sebek glued to your side. Your eyes were glazed over with memory as you stared at him, hoping he would say hello as he passed you by. Yet, no such luck as he didn't even spare you a glance.

“He wouldn't recognize me…” You stated out softly to Sebek and Silver with a frown upon your face. Through all of Silver and Sebek’s pesterings, it would appear that you had lost all memory as you became such an important character within the book- perhaps it was due to your lack of magic ability? Whatever it may be, Silver and Sebek hoped it wouldn't last back home in their world where they would bring you back.

“He didn't see you.” Silver cooed out softly, comforting you slightly before Sebek scoffed.

“You do not need that mangy lion anyways! There are bigger and better, like Lord-” Before Sebek could finish, Lilia cleared his throat and motioned for the ballerinas to start their dance as the familiar flutes began to play. Both knights sighed as they jumped off away from you to start their dance while you joined in with the other ballerinas. Jumping over chains and dancing gracefully around them; Afterall, Hannibal is very important to the culture of Rome.

Though the trio of mers stared at you deeply as they chatted away with Lilia. Jade watched your every move while holding onto Floyd’s shoulder so he couldn't break away to squeeze you too tightly now, after all they didn't want to break the code lines of the book and be casted out, or even worse. Get stuck in there permanently.

“And who is that one? No relation I trust?” Azul pointed out to you, raising up an eyebrow as Lilia let out a small ‘fufu~’

“That is Y/N L/N. Orphaned at 7, and came to live and train here within the Opera dormitories since then… I also think of her as a daughter. Now gentleman, if you would be so kind just to stand off to the side.” Lilia pushed the trio off to the side only to watch his ballet dancers. As the singing continued, the orchestra played with such oomph that a certain irritated German voice could be heard amongst it all as a rip was heard.

“Rook! Do not step on me!” Vil shouted out at Rook who looked sheepish as he had taken a step in the wrong direction as Sebek had jumped a little too close to him. After that, all hell broke loose as Rook couldn't jump into his seat where the fake elephant had come in due to his large billowing and not to mention- heavy- outfit was weighing him down. Vil had gotten so frustrated that he broke character as he stormed through the hallway, screaming how he is going to quit and he is finished. Only for Azul and the Tweels (Not Floyd though, he wasn't in the mood for it.) to grovel for Vil to stay and sing.

“Isn't there a song in uhm… Act three of Hannibal that you can sing for us?” Azul asked out hesitantly, trying to remember the play for Y/N’s sake.

“Yes! There is! But SOMEBODY did NOT finish my costume!” Vil pointed out and looked towards the costume designers who looked away sheepishly only for Jade to cut in smoothly.

“If its alright with you, Vil, we would love a performance just for us.” Jade hummed out smoothly only for Vil to stop and thing about it. Rook cleared his throat and nodded towards Vil, as if saying quietly ‘do it for the story’ in which Vil nodded.

“If my managers command… Maestro?” Vil looked over at the conductor who only stiffened up under his gaze.

“If my diva commands!”

“I do.” With that, Rook went around shushing everyone as Vil went to the front of the stage, preparing his voice for quite a song. Once the whole auditorium was quiet to Vil’s shushing and Rook’s deathglare of ‘silence’, the piano began to softly play like stars within the night sky. Slowly, Vil’s voice came out strong with plenty of vibrato that left Floyd wincing and looking ever so displeased. Vil knew that this was the doing of the book for he would never sing an aria so… Absurd. Though nothing could prepare him for what came next.

Shackles and chains clattered as a wheel began to squeak very loudly as a whole stage set background fell right on top of Vil, Rook’s eyes turning the size of dinner plates as he rushed forward to collect Vil off of the ground and out from underneath the heavy tapestry of a background. Lilia could only sigh as his ballerinas were panicking while Silver and Sebek stood close to you in hopes of protecting you from whatever might come next towards you. Another screamfest from Vil and the new managers before the auditorium went silent as Vil, Rook and their entourage stormed off into the back.

“Here is a letter, the Opera ghost welcomes you into his opera house and hopes that you can still pay him his money. Monsieur Le Fevre used to give him twenty thousand francs a month.” Lilia spoke, nonchalant as he handed over a note to Azul who seemed absolutely mortified at the idea of having to pay a GHOST. Most certainly they are real, for they all have been to the Ramshackle. “He also states that you need to leave Box Five empty for his use.”

“HIS Opera house? And TWENTY THOUSAND FRANCS? Well that's just great! Who is going to sing for us now! There is no understudy for Vil Schoenheit!” Azul shouted out, furious that he is going to have to refund a whole house which is 1. A waste of a bunch of money, and 2. This shouldn't be how the story should be going! 3. NOW HE HAS TO DEAL WITH SOME OPERA GHOST?

“Y/N can sing it for you.” Silver’s nonchalant voice spoke up through the chaos only for Sebek and you to look at him in shock. Azul slowly turned to you and quirked up an eyebrow but Floyd was first to speak.

“A simple ballet chorus girl? Nehh~...” With a shake of his head at not calling you Shrimpy, why couldn't he just call you Shrimpy? Sebek took it as denial and was next to speak up for you.

“They’re very well trained!” Sebek barked out, standing up straight as you just look between the two of them as if they were going a second head on their shoulders. Wishing that they didn't say ANYTHING. Granted, yes. You were being trained by a wonderful master but… Was it worthy of singing in front of a whole audience?!

“Who taught you.” Jade was next to speak, smiling at you with one of his very placid smiles that could put anyone on edge. You were no different than the rest of course…

“I don't know his name, monsieur…” You whispered out, suddenly bashful as now all the eyes were locked onto your form, Lilia cleared his throat in hopes of you gaining your courage to speak more. Yet for when nothing came out from your mouth, he only sighed.

“Let them sing for you monsieur, they are very well taught.” Lilia spoke up and pushed you forward with his hand on the lower of your back as Floyd began to wave you forward to the center of the stage.

“Cmon now Shrim–... Y/N” Floyd seemed to be annoyed with the fact that he was still unable to call you by your nickname, huffing silently as you were tentative on reaching the front of the stage. You feel everyone's eyes upon you and an all too familiar gaze upon the back of your head. You know he is here.

Slowly, the piano began to play once more as you began to sing a few beats in. Floyd and Jade seemed serene while Azul seemed so shocked by the sound of your voice. Who knew that their precious little Prefect had a voice of a siren! An Angel?! His face must’ve turned a shade of pink as he watched you very closely. You could only turn to face Lilia, Sebek and Silver who all looked very proud of you as Lilia motioned you forward to the center of the stage.

With a flash of the light in front of everyone's eyes, the once empty house was now filled with a full audience listening to you sing so gracefully. Leona sat in his seat as he seemed pleased at hearing you sing, his tail flicking around happily as his eyes narrowed down upon your shining form, as if you were a star itself. Who knew their clumsy Prefect had so much grace, and with a voice of the tweeting birds of the savannah. Unbeknownst to them, a form lurked within the shadows, listening to your voice as he seemed pleased with himself at how far you've come under his wing. You looked as radiant as ever, perfect for the prize of his game that is about to be played.

Leona stood up, humming to himself how it's wonderful to finally see your face, not like he would ever mention how he had missed you but for once in his life, he was rushing to see you. At the end of the song, you received a standing ovation from the crowd, roses were being tossed up onto the stage for you as a certain spy was watching you from below before rushing outside to see their master of Vil and Rook. Upon hearing the standing ovation for your spectacular performance, Vil could only smirk and chuckle.

“Who knew our potato had it in them all this time.”

All the while, a certain eel was more than happy to shout out to you about how wonderful your performance was, and Azul was more than happy with the outcome and with the fact that they now had a new rising star who wasn't Vil for once.

Sebek and Silver were the ones who first went out to go searching for you after your performance and everyone had left the auditorium. Afterall, this was a party and You were the star! You should be celebrating! Walking through corridors and slinking through hallways with couples that were more than happy to mash their lips together in what seemed to be the most secluded hallway they could find, they stumbled upon you in a room lighting up candles.

“Y/N! There you are! We have been looking for you. We thought we told you that you should always stick by us!” Sebek shouted out loudly, making you jump and Silver sighed. “Can't you see they’re lighting up a memorial, be quiet Sebek.” Silver whispered out to his friend before looking back down at you who turned to smile at the two of them.

“It's alright you two… I was just letting my father know that tonight went well. After all, father once spoke of an angel who would teach me all these musical things. Now I see him in everything I do, and he comes and visits me at night, sings me songs to keep me company as I sleep.” You whispered out to the both of them as they took their places on either side of you, again like how a knight would be for their King of Briar Valley.

“Y/N… You must have been dreaming, stories like this can't come true.” Sebek states out softly as he takes your hand and helps you up. Granted, he would NEVER touch you back in Twisted Wonderland but with the guidance of the book's written story, he guided you up to your feet as Silver helped steady your balance within your heels.

“Y/N you’re talking in riddles, and it's not like you.” Silver whispered out as they both began to lead you out from the room filled with painted angels and more towards your room, though both Silver and Sebek could feel a presence around them that was all too familiar. A drunkard man that is about to lose this game of cat and mouse if he keeps pestering their precious Prefect. Once back inside your room, with you all settled down in front of your mirror, the two had left you alone with Lilia and stood guard outside of your room.

“He is pleased with you.” Lilia would speak out softly to you, eyes lingering on your form as your eyes glance down to the rose, still filled with thorns with a green ribbon tied around it that was just placed down to your hand. “Make sure to go to bed at a reasonable time tonight. You know how he is with your sleeping schedule, and you have a big day tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.” Lilia would softly squeeze your shoulders as he began to depart from the room only for a certain sneaky lion to squeeze past and intrude in.

“Little Y/N let their mind wander, not knowing of the hunter behind them.” Leona’s gruff voice would hum out, arms crossed with that smug smirk upon his face as he looked you up and down. Your eyes flickered up to his face within the mirror and a smile began to form upon your face at seeing your childhood best friend.

“No, they knew of the hunter stalking them, but what they couldnt comprehend is what it wanted.” You started out, swirling around to face him on your chair as you stood up.

“Am I fonder of dolls or of frocks, or possibly picnics in the attic?” Leona stated, walking closer to you to where he could smell you but couldn't just touch you yet.

“No, they said. Whatever is best, is when I'm asleep in my bed.” You finished out before giggling, pulling Leona in for a tight hug. Leona’s eyes closed shut as he squeezed you just as tight before pulling away with a roll of his eyes, dumb book making him do things he didn't want to do.

“You sang beautifully tonight. Why don't we go catch dinner together? Just you and me.” Leona stated out rashly and sighed, ears pinning down as his cheeks turned a bit red as he peeked one eye down to look at you. Your face said it all, you couldn't. Yet, he didn't care. “Get dressed, I will be back in five minutes. Don't deny that you want to go out and eat with me and I'm not asking. This is a demand, and you know I don't make many of those.” With that, Leona squeezed you slightly within his arms again before leaving.

“No wait, Leona!” You sighed as you heard the door shut with a loud click. As you turned around to face your bouquets of flowers lined against the wall, you shuffled out from your big poofy dress and into a more simple white linen one with a laced robe being tied around in hopes that you dear Angel of Music wouldn't notice your absence. Reaching towards the door handle, a loud voice boomed within the room that you knew all too well already.

“Insolent boy, this slave of Fashion! Basking in your glory! Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!” The angel hissed out, and you knew he was not happy with the outcome, and had already known your intentions of leaving for the evening.

“Angel, I hear you. Speak, I’ll listen… Stay by my side, guide me! Angel, my soul was weak… Forgive me- Enter at last, Master!’ You replied back out, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes at the thought of betraying you dear beloved Master. As for him? He had heard that term many times but he never wanted to hear it come from your mouth, though he was indeed flattered… As the candles died down with his presence, a few flickering lights of green began to spark in the room as if you had your own personal fireflies.

“Flattering child, you shall know me. See why in the shadow I hide. Look at your face in the mirror! I am there inside!” The voice continues as you slowly turn on your heels to look at your body length mirror. Inside showed your reflection until a very large apparition began to appear slowly within the lighting of the mirror. A man with jet black that turned into a soft blue that rested upon his shoulders, two black long horns upon his head and part of his face was covered in a mask. Was this truly an angel, more importantly… Your angel?

Slowly, your feet began to move towards the mirror, entranced with this man's form within your mirror as your hand stuck out slowly. Unbeknownst to you, Leona was in the middle of a scuffle between Silver and Sebek who were trying their best to protect you, as well as their master who was now making his move upon the impressionable you.

“Let me through! Let me see Y/N!” Leona roared out as he punched Silver, who grunted as Sebek took over and kicked Leona down. “Who is that voice in there! Y/N!!!” Leona roared out, throwing Sebek off of him at Silver, rushing up to the door as he jangled with the locked door. “Y/N!!!” He shouted out, continuing to fight the door as both Knights tore him away and continued to wrestle with him upon the ground.

“I am your angel of music… Come to me, Angel of Music…” He spoke out softly, leaving you entranced with his form as your hand reached through the mirror and with a hesitant skip of your heartbeat, your hand met with his gloved one as if a deal had just been struck right then and there.

You have met your Angel of Music.

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