Martin Freeman | Fargo
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Martin Freeman | Fargo

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SARCASM: a sentence pack
"That went well."
"I hope you're happy now."
"Brilliant."
"Do you ever use your brain, or do you just think those five pounds are a built in workout for your neck muscles?"
"Remind me why I should care."
"Oh, gosh, you've insulted me! What ever shall I do? I'll be mentally and emotionally scared for years!"
"This is your bright idea?"
"Wow, you are just so incredibly funny."
"You keep on telling yourself that, sweetheart."
"Whose idea of a fun time is this?"
"Careful, keep having that much fun and it might actually start being good for your health."
"Yes, because your well-being is definitely my number one concern."
"I'll lose sleep over that. Definitely."
"Oh, no. Whatever shall we do? It's dark and we live in the 21st century!"
"Yeah, sure thing."
  âłÎąĐ¸Đ¸ÎšŃââź*:ď˝Ľďž Â Â âYouâre actually letting me in your kitchen after   the potato chip-cookies incident?? COOLâCan   I make my special popcorn recipe???â
âOf course, of course...depends on what your âspecial popcorn recipeâ is.â
The words, rushed little platitudes, told her everything she had so far interpreted about this strange, stuttering little man before her had been  c o r r e c t . âYou donât need to explain yourself to  me, darling. I have never been the  judgmental sort.â Lester had subservience written all over him. In the slouch of his shoulders. The defeated expression in his eyes. The way he spoke about himself, as little more than a sub-human. But there was something else there, lingering just beneath the surface. Perhaps residual grief for his deceased wife, although he had not mentioned her up to this point. There was no guilt about being in the presence of a woman of her profession, no soft protestations that this just wasnât right. How fascinating that was. âI want you to go outside, Lester. Youâre  going to get in your car and turn on the  engine. I drive a cherry red Chevrolet.  Youâre going to follow me to my hotel  and from there, we will begin. Do I make  myself clear?â The stammering could go on forever and in situations like this, it was always best to cut right to the quick. The hand that held his chin slid up to comb through mousy hair, tugging him closer until their lips met in a soft embrace.Â
Whilst it was rare she kissed, sometimes a little tenderness was needed for a battle to be won. Whilst dear Mr. Nygaard presented a bumbling and uncertain front to the outside world, she felt certain there was a good deal more than first met the eye.Â
His mouth seemed to know it was coming before his head did, though he was surprised all the same. Part of him, deep in the back of his mind, told him that he ought to pull away if he ever wanted to appear to be a decent person to those who pitied him for what happened to poor Mrs. Nygaard and her poor, poor widower. It was simply common knowledge: if he wanted to stay under the radar, he wouldnât be kissing a dominatrix in a backwater diner.
But a bigger part of him - a primal, thirsty bit of brain that had been smothered by sweaters, insurance pamphlets, and years of dismissal from everyone around him - let her go at it, enjoying the feeling of a beautiful woman tenderly kissing him, her hands sending a tingle though each passing hair she caressed. Lester found a little of the gusto heâd been searching for all night. That tiny voice in the back of his head that told him what he wanted to hear at the worst of times- one that seemed to speak now with her svelte, gently-accented voice - whispered as softly as the lips pressed on his;
You deserve this.
As he pulled away, he could only nod and croak out a âgotchaâ before picking up his parka, paying for the coffee, and half-stumbling out the door towards his car.
   âłÎąĐ¸Đ¸ÎšŃââź*:ď˝Ľďž Â Â Â Â Â Â Â âWaitingâŚ.â
âFor what?â

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okay but why arenât you writing road trip aus?
itâs literally the best thing ever?? you can have two characters traveling the country?? Â learning more about themselves?? learning more about their friends??
you can literally apply this to any couple. Â otp?? no problem. Â ot3?? Â hell fuckinâ yeah. Â ot5?? you may need to rent a bus for that.
driving shitty rental cars and living off of gas station food and going way too fast down highways with the radio up
alternately: âhell no you cannot survive off of gas station candy Iâm taking us to a real restaurantâ
getting lost on the way to the restaurant and having to ask for directions at a remote little souvenir shop
going to tourist traps just to buy shitty souvenirs for each other and compete for the most tacky ones.
traveling to super crowded cities and taking a couple of days off just to enjoy the feeling of being lost. Â driving down winding country roads and opening all the windows because itâs like being found.
which member of your otp wants to go to super sophisticated cities and which one wants to visit the worldâs largest ball of yarn?
staying in shitty motels, okay? Â the kind of creepy-not-quite-real aesthetic of neon lights and soft linen and staying awake all night listening to the other person breathe.
alternately: you literally get the chance to write the scenario where the characters trade off seats during the night and the driver keeps looking at their sleeping companion and getting distracted because of the way the moonlight bounces off of their face and ugh
taking turns deciding on the next destination and characters declaring things like âoh my god, I hate the countrysideâ but they wind up loving it
car karaoke. Â someone probably owns the complete collection of disney cds. Â they probably take it very seriously.
characters who keep making more and more detours because they want it to last forever even though it canât.
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âYouâre not alone. Most people find the concept  of being ordered around a little overwhelming.â Reaching across the table, she settled a manicured hand over his, her thumb pressing against the throbbing pulse of his wrist and rubbing in soothing circles. This was perhaps one of the things she excelled at. The soft, subtle seduction that lured hapless prey into her clutches. Some of her favored pets had started off much like this; not knowing how much potential lay before them. âWe can start off as slow as you please, my sweet.  Tonight is all about you. Iâve never been opposed  to being gentle if the occasion calls for it.â
All at once, her free hand was lifting from her lap, fingers curling beneath his chin. Gazing deep into his eyes, she leaned across the table until she could smell the deep notes of his aftershave along with the bitterness of the coffee. âOh, I believe you can handle a good deal more than  even you are aware of. I see such strength when I look  at you. Passion, too. Iâd love to see you let it out, Lester.  If you felt safe enough,â
âNo, no, Iâm good at being ordered around.â
That sounded terrible.
âI-I mean, I donât mind getting ordered around, yâknow, because...â
That sounded terrible, too.
â...m-my boss...just...tryinâ ta work, is all. Way my job goes.â
And he ended it in a spectacularly terrible fervor, as par for the course. There was so much...woman for Lester to deal with mentally, even if he was sure he could handle it. Still, now was the time to brace himself for whatever heâd just signed away his control for.
At least, until the touching started.
There was a noticeable flinch as the picture-perfect hand came to rest on his wrist, making his pulse feel strong and ever-present as it throbbed between his body and her thumb (which had more power than his body ever had and ever would). He maintained eye contact if only because he honestly felt that he couldnât look away; he was the fly, she was the light.
His answer was so very close to making its way out of his mouth until her fingers curled round his chin, freezing him in his tracks as she seemed to get closer and closer...and she was getting closer by the second, so close he could smell the perfume mingled with the near-evicerated stain of hotel shampoo in her hair. The words he had mustered up the strength to say - and not half bad ones, at that - turned to jelly in his mouth.
âI-I-I-I-I...I-I donât...I-I-I w-wouldnât...ya donât...o-oh, I...really?â
âCaptain America 3â: Martin Freeman Also in âBlack Pantherâ?
Martin Freeman is reportedly playing Everett Ross in âCaptain America: Civil Warâ, with plans to reprise that role in âBlack Pantherâ.
http://wtch.it/SVD1l
         âłÎąĐ¸Đ¸ÎšŃââź*:ď˝Ľďž Â Â Â Â Â âAre ya gonna make some popcorn, too?   We canât have movies without popcorn, yâknow.âÂ
â...Right! Popcorn! Y-ya sure canât have a movie without popcorn. Now, listen - Iâm gonna run downstairs and grab those tapes, and if you wouldnât mind, I want you to go fishing in the pantry and find the box of Pop-Secret thatâs hiding somewhere in there; just stick it in the microwave. Think you can do that?â
   âłÎąĐ¸Đ¸ÎšŃââź*:ď˝Ľďž Â Â âWell, at least youâre here now.   Youâre lucky, tooâ-I was just   about to take out my  sidewalk   c h a l k.âÂ
âYeah...yeah, what exactly are we doing here?â

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Five Nights At Fuckboys 2 Sentence Meme: Part 1
"You're a Cunt."
"Come help me be a huge piece of shit."
"No Mr. Puppet Man, that's illegal."
"Get back in the box you ball tripping fuck nugget."
"Here's your fucking sex toy you dirty piece of shit. Now come help me."
"Is that your sense of music?"
"Engage the stick, motherfucker."
"Tough shit."
"I'm not touching your ass."
"Fine. Jesus fucking Christ, I am sick of your shit already, you dirty piece of shit."
"Inhale my dong, enragement child."
"Inhale my dong, enragement BITCH!"
"Well that was fucking stupid."
"I cant go in there: it will forsake my masculinity."
"My beloved masculinity has shattered!"
"I'll get your your fucking cupcakes."
"Jesus fucking Christ, you're absolutely unbearable."
"I'm withdrawing my child support."
Irene watched as hestruggled, somewhat amused by the outcome. Just one look at Lester was enough to inform her that he was in the middle of a serious moral quandary. Amusing that so many who came to her, desperate for release, all exhibited the same distress when confronted with the reality of what they were about to undertake. âGive it a try?â Repeating his words in a deadpan tone, she arched a finely plucked eyebrow. âThis isnât a ride at the fairground, my darling. Far from it. I should also emphasize what precisely it is that I do. I am not, nor have I ever been, a prostitute. Yes, I do enjoy sex a great deal and have even bedded several of my clients in the past, but a night with me does not guarantee you a good, hard fuck. If thatâs what youâre looking for I suggest the red light district. Itâs my understanding there is a thriving one in the twin cities.â
Reaching for a napkin, she dabbed it against crimson lips, allowing the moment to build between them before she spoke again. âI am a professional dominatrix. This means that my clients surrender all of their control to me for a few hours. Itâs not all nipple clamps and riding crops. If you wish, we can absolutely dive straight in to such things although I recommend starting off a little lighter. Similarly, if it is your wish, we can do just this. Sit and talk. For the next four hours, Iâm at your disposal.â Pausing, she look another sip of tea. âWithin reason, of course.â
âI, uh...look, Iâve never actually tried any of that...you know, that kinda stuff...â
This was a lie, but, again, the one time he had tried it wasnât worth mentioning.
â...but, ah...jeez...itâs a whole lot to think about, Iâm not gonna lie to ya. Never really had anybody...offer it, if ya know what I mean.â
He treated himself to another sip of coffee, hoping the caffeine would spark up his bravado. He was a man, not the sixteen-year-old loser who couldnât even work up the guts to take a peek at a topless girl through a crack in the bathroom wall. Lester couldnât bear to imagine going back to his brotherâs house and confirming everything Chaz had anticipated to his face: that heâd chicken out, like he always did.
âI...you know, Iâm gonna go for it. Granted, if thatâs really an option, Iâm all for starting light, but, uh...I guess I kinda owe it to my brother. Wouldnât want to let him down after he tried cheering me up. Besides, Iâm sure I can handle it. Iâve been through a heckuva lot worse.â
So youâre blackmailing a guy for something but you donât know what it is? You ready for the comment? Youâre an idiot. Good news: Iâm taking over.
it was a traumatising experience, it haunts him still
                         âAw, heck.â

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                    â Oh, what a day.â
                      indie lester nygaard from fargo fx. 18+. written by                     delaney. semi selective/multiship. chat/para friendly.
Send me a url and my muse will tell you what they think about them.