#//For the whole Shanks in a dress talk some time ago

[ravarui]

//Was sorting through some pictures and thought I would share some of my faves. First is me with my best friend (the one in the blue dress) I just loved our outfits so much that evening Also: Bonus doggo pictures under the cut

#look it's me! - ooc #mun talks #personal #//First mun reveal on this blog without it being a cosplay c: #//Also the blue dress is probably the one I am going to borrow #//For the whole Shanks in a dress talk some time ago #//Soon guys #//its going to happen soon #dogs tw

[feriowind]

i wrote up a whooole feral luffy AU bit on twitter last night so am posting it here too (slightly cleaned up) hahaha

Feral luffy AU where the basis is that Luffy is the one who, somehow, set sail the day the celestial dragons arrived and had his boat shot down. 

 He's considerably further out to sea when this happens, and when he falls into the water, he's swept away by a strange ocean current. He winds up on a deserted island surrounded by the same strange currents and it keeps him stranded. 

 Ace and Sabo are devastated by the loss of Luffy, as is Garp, Makino, Dadan and the bandits, and later on Dragon and Shanks when they find out, attempts are made to locate Luffy's body but they never find him, the assumption that he sank too far out into the ocean due to his devil fruit. Ace & Sabo grow up significantly less cheerful without Luffy's presence, but their bond to one another is as strong as ever.

 Sabo fakes his death after begging Garp for help, anything to throw off his family from ever finding him again. Garp agrees because his hatred of certain nobility has grown significantly after Luffy's "death", and he can't stand the thought of losing another grandson.

 Luffy meanwhile, adapts as best he can. Surviving in this new jungle is painful, but doable despite the constant near brushes with death. The true hardship is how lonely he is without his brothers. Luffy has always thrived in the company of others, and without any he struggles, but again, Luffy adapts. 

 He manages to befriend some of the animals in the jungle, and accidentally discovers conqueror's haki when he nearly loses his hat to a predator, his one link to something beyond this island.

 The animals can't replace his brothers, but they ward off the loneliness. Throughout this time, Luffy makes multiple attempts to sail off the island with handmade rafts. Craftsmanship has never been his strong suit however, so they crumble instantly in the harsh currents.

 Perhaps due to luck, the currents always wash him back ashore instead of allowing him to sink and drown. Luffy's speech also slowly degrades over time. As much as he loves talking to his animal friends, the inability to hear someone else speak causes his words to slur and distort

 Ace and Sabo still hold true to their promise to set sail at age 17, but decide that they want to sail together instead of separating. When they finally set sail, they decide to take their time getting to the Grandline, exploring more of the East Blue at a leisurely pace.

After roughly a week of sailing, they get caught in a freak storm and are swept away by a giant wave where they too end up caught in the same strange current that stole Luffy all those years ago. The two wind up unconscious on Luffy's island, where Luffy finds them on the beach.

Luffy doesn't recognize them however, only that wow! For the first time since he arrived, there are other humans on the island with him that are alive! It's an exciting occurrence, and Luffy drags their bodies to the jungle where the tide won't reach.

When poking and prodding don't wake the two, Luffy sets off to gather food for his guests. He still remembers how tired and hungry he was when he first washed ashore, and figures they'd feel the same. As Luffy comes back, Ace wakes up in a panic.

Luffy rushes Ace in excitement and babbles. It's nearly incomprehensible to Ace however, especially in his panicked just-woken hazy-brained state. All Ace wants is to know where Sabo is and where this place is, and pushes Luffy away.

That's when Ace notices Sabo is lying just a few feet away asleep. The tension leaves him immediately and he's able to actually pay attention to the stranger trying to talk to him. 

Luffy is young and shorter than what he would have been had he been able to grow up on Dawn Island. His hair is long, wild and tangled, and he's dressed in furs and leathers. As Ace is studying him, he asks if he's the one who saved him and Sabo. 

For a moment Luffy stares silent, mind untangling the words until they make sense, and then he nods exuberantly. He tries to explain that he found them unconscious on the beach along with their boat, but Ace can barely decipher Luffy's speech. It sounds like someone speaking with a heavy accent at lightning speed.

But it’s then Ace notices the faint scar under Luffy's eye, and the strawhat hanging off his back. That in combination with Luffy's excited movements and speech sets off confusing alarms in his head.

Luffy's dead, Ace knows this, but he forces this strange kid to calm down and asks for his name. Again it takes a moment for Luffy to understand, and he replies. There's that same strange lilt to his words, but it's clear. Monkey D. Luffy! and it's said with a wide, proud grin.

Ace's world tilts then. Luffy? MONKEY D. LUFFY? His brain feels like its shorting out, refusing to register this new bit of information. He thinks he chokes a reply of some kind, but his mind feels blank. Luffy only laughs, not noticing Ace's shock.

In broken speech he asks for Ace's name too, but Ace doesn't hear his question, can only stare at Luffy's face. It can't be Luffy, he thinks. Because if it is... IF IT IS... They're only roughly a week's sail from Dawn Island. Just 7 days.

Is this boy trying to tell Ace that Luffy, in these past 7 years, was only a 7 days boat ride away? And they simply didn't look hard enough? He was here all alone while Ace and Sabo moved on? Ace's heart feels like it's constricting as his vision tunnels in on Luffy.

Luffy's finally noticed that this stranger is looking pale and ill, and pats him in worry. Is he sick? Does he need food? Are you okay, he asks. Ace grabs Luffy's arm then and stares at him with a strange expression. Luffy, it's me, he says, voice shaking. Ace.

Luffy's brows furrow in confusion and he tilts his head. Ace repeats himself, voice growing stronger. I'm Ace! he exclaims, and waits (prays) to see the light of recognition in Luffy's eyes.

Luffy mouths Ace's words silently to himself with frown. Ace? ...ACE! Luffy suddenly leaps towards Ace, landing directly on his chest and crushing him against a tree. He's directly on him and he's got Ace's head clasped roughly between his hands as he stares at his face intently

Ace? Luffy asks out loud, and starts repeating it over and over as he studies Ace's face. Luffy's grip is stronger than expected but Ace manages to give a jerky nod. The piercing stare breaks and Luffy's eyes water. ACE! he cries out in joy and it's the only word he can say.

Luffy wildly paws at Ace's face, then shoulders and arms, as if trying to make sure he's really there, and he's laughing and crying all at once. He then suddenly turns to Sabo on the ground and starts patting his body. He looks up at Ace with a hopeful smile and asks, Sabo?

Ace chokes back a sob because oh. OH. It's really Luffy! He was here this whole time and they never knew! Why hadn't they just looked HARDER? Luffy meanwhile crows in joy and triumph that BOTH his brothers are here with him. 

Ace gets down next to Sabo and starts violently shaking him. Wake up WAKE UP, how can he be SLEEPING when the greatest thing they thought they had lost was BACK. Sabo groans awake and is greeted by the pained teary face of Ace and an equally teary, but grinning stranger

 the shock of the scene jolts Sabo upright and he asks what's wrong? What happened? Ace just points to the boy beside him. It's Luffy, he says through clenched teeth, as if he were trying his best to stave off a breakdown. Huh? Sabo replies, what about Luffy?

 it's LUFFY, Ace grits out again, and this time Luffy chimes in with a cheery, Sabo! and leans in close to his face. Sabo is still confused and Ace nearly snarls in frustration. Luffy's ALIVE, Ace growls, and Luffy laughs. Sabo stares at Luffy and understanding slowly dawns.

 Luffy? he asks in disbelief, and Luffy nods excitedly before crowding in Sabo's face even more. Sabo! Luffy says with a smile and starts repeating his name like he had done with Ace earlier. Sabo, Luffy's been here this whole time, Ace says in a pained whisper.

 This whole time? And the same realization that Ace had grows in Sabo. Luffy, you've been here, all alone...? And we were so close? Sabo's body moves and wraps Luffy's body in a bone crushing hug. Luffy, I- we didn't know! Sabo stammers but it sounds like a terrible excuse.

 Guilt is devouring both Ace and Sabo but Luffy is only smiling. He's overjoyed that his brothers are here, and with their help he can definitely get off this island now! Things do work out!

 We have to go back to Dawn Island, Sabo says suddenly. We need to take Luffy home and we- we gotta tell Gramps! And Dadan and Makino! Luffy's okay! He's okay! And it's like a dam breaks and Sabo is the first one to break down into a full-body sob.

 Luffy gives a cry of dismay and does his best to comfort Sabo. Ace gives in and wraps both Luffy and Sabo in a hug. Both older brothers are whispering apologies to Luffy responds with just wrapping his arms several times around them both in one of his infamous rubbery hugs.

 like luffy had tried to explain earlier, the brothers' ship is beached on the coast and, surprisingly, only suffering a few minor scuffs. their departure is fairly swift, only waiting for the ideal weather after gathering some supplies and luffy's scant belongings

 Perhaps one or two of Luffy's animal friends joins them, but regardless, with the help of a 3 man crew, a sturdy ship, and an actual navigator, Luffy finally escapes the island, and the 3 brothers head home.

 Now all Ace and Sabo have to worry about is helping Luffy readjust to human civilization........

#one piece #feral luffy AU #art #i can only bring myself to write these weird long winded half summary half fic things lol #monkey d. luffy

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 01

(Masterpost) (Next Episode)

Warning: This is **FULL **of spoilers, not just for this episode but for the entire series. If you haven’t finished all 50 episodes, please don’t read it! 

Intro: 2020 continues to be much much too much while also being incredibly boring, and Im done with Shen Wei’s Lewks, so now I’m doing a deep meta dive into the Untamed. Let’s roll! 

Prologue: The Battle of Mordor

The Demise of our Protagonist

Unlike some other shows I won’t name, The Untamed kills its suicidal queer protagonist immediately, rather than waiting four seasons, so we know what we're in for. 

This is Wei Wuxian, who is about to yeet himself off of a cliff. He is having a bad day. 

Note: if mouth blood bothers you...C-Drama might not be your thing. 

Reasons for mouth blood: a sampler

Anyway...cliff time

Note: if (fictional) suicide bothers you...C-Drama might not be your thing. 

To be fair there are hardly any suicides in The Untamed. No more than ...five? As long as you don’t count the entire population of the Wen Corporate Headquarters in Yiling or those wall bandits in Qinghe or Madame Yu or all those Wens who supposedly threw themselves into the mud puddle or that Mo guy who broke his own neck. Plus watching Wei Wuxian’s cliff drop several more times from multiple angles. So, you know. Hardly Any Suicides. 

This is Lan Wangji, who is about to have his first losing encounter with physics. He is having a bad day.

In fact, if it is possible to have a worse day than the guy who is currently falling to his death, Lan Wangji is having that.

This is Jiang Cheng, who is feeling extra stabby from this camera angle. He is having a bad day.

Camera operator: why you gotta take it out on me? 

(Much, much more after the cut!)

The Amulet Situation

This is the Stygian Tiger Amulet. Yes, by all means, (Netflix) subtitles, let's use a 12-dollar word, “Stygian,” that every English speaker who is not a Shelley/Byron shipper will have to look up. Let’s not use a normal word like "deathly" or "corrupt" or you know... "Yin" which is clearly what they are saying on screen.

Why does this tiger amulet look like a chameleon crossed with a remora? Wei Wuxian can paint photorealistic bunnies on a flimsy lantern while sitting in a field having distracting teenage lust, but two months of meditating with super magic gets him a tiger that looks like a chameleon. And don’t try telling me this is a traditional-Chinese-art vibe because this jade tiger from frickin 1000 BCE is way more tigerish than Wei Wuxian’s attempt. 

Try harder next time, Wei Wuxian.

This is thousands of cultivators having a battle.  What do you mean, it looks like about 40-60 dudes?

 Any time someone in The Untamed refers to a number of people, it is like when you do your high school play and look off into the wings at nothing and say “Hark, A Ship Approaches!” and everyone’s parents nod indulgently.

Jin Clan Mountain Hunt:

*viewership nods indulgently*

This is Captain Blowhard, over on the right, courtesy name Clan Leader Yao. His job is to talk smack about Wei Wuxian and stick up for whoever is the biggest asshole in any given scene.  

He represents mainstream cultivation-world values so here he is shanking one of his allies to take the deadly amulet of evilness.

The Present Day

Spilling All That Yiling Laozu Tea

Down at the Exposition Tea Shop, the Lan juniors are chilling and listening to Tea Dude tell the story of Yiling Laozu. 

How did they get permission to take this field trip? “Principal Qiran, we want to go downtown to hang out with the local rabble and learn about your favorite person, Wei Wuxian.”

Waiting in the wings is the man with a fan and a plan, Nie Huaisan(g), who is paying tall loot to get these stories told.  

...Why? Is Mo Xuanyu having tea here and listening? Or is Wei Wuxian being summoned back by hearing all this smack being talked about him? *Shrug.*

Gank Your Soul

Drunk flag guy out here talking about spirits. Wikipedia tells me that In one school of Daoist thought, a human being has a collection of physical souls (魄 pò) and ethereal souls (魂 hún). Drunk flag guy is saying “hún ” at the moment. 

The many types of souls don’t translate well into English, where spiritual vocabulary has always been shackled connected to Christian beliefs, and is too limited for this context. So when the subtitles have conversations like “Is it a soul eater? No, no, it’s a spirit taker!” just roll with it. (Speaking of hún, if you have any interest in linguistics, do yourself a favor and go read all the wonderful meta @hunxi-guilai​)

The spirit-carrying flag looks a lot like Raava and Vaatu from Korra which...probably doesn’t mean anything.

The Demise of our Trill Host

Suicide #2 happens about 8 minutes in. 

Mo Xuanyu is that hippie roommate with the annoying wind chimes and bead curtains and blood spatter.

He is super mad at his terrible family and also at Jin Guangyao, who sent him home to his terrible family. I wonder if Fan Man Nie Huaisang influenced Jiggy’s decision-making there. Mo Xuanyu’s choice to die for revenge might be excessive, given how easy it actually is to murder the Mo family.

Being Alive Is Fine I Guess As Long As I Get To Fuck WIth People

Wei Wuxian starts his new life by splashing a little water on his face, which instantly makes his hair go from this

to this. 

He looks at his reflection and wishes he was dead, which--mood--but he gets over it as soon as he finds someone whose day he can fuck up.

And he is ALL in on being crazy. 

OP wishes she had the Wei Wuxian kind of crazy instead of the kind she actually has. 

Meanwhile, this is the sane Mo cousin:

This asshole is wearing one of the best fabrics in the whole show, incidentally. Asshole.

My favorite bit of Wei-Mo craziness is when Wei Wuxian does a meaningless 360 all the way around this dude before ducking in the opposite direction, which is like when I make 4 right turns around a whole block to avoid making a single left across traffic.

Perhaps I Do Miss One Thing In This Life

Wei Wuxian has pining thoughts about Lan Wangji, so he plays WangXian on a fucking blade of grass well enough for Sizhui to recognize it from his dad's guqin jams. 

Wei Wuxian is a better flautist than even Inspector Gadget BeatBoxing Flute Guy (Google it).

Our Many Many Spirit Lure Flags have Lured A Spirit, Oh Shit

Lan Clan has a Plan and Wei Wuxian is a Fan

Having one single lure flag stuck in Wen Ning’s torso caused spirits to basically eat him alive, so to catch one evil spirit, 6 disciples holding flags on the roof plus 8 more flags on the ground seems like a good amount. Wei Wuxian is like “yep, a single one of these will lure every spirit for five miles, carry on, younglings.”

Baxia Does the Heavy Lifting

Wei Wuxian is supposed to kill four people because of this curse situation, and in the course of the series they all die, and he kills exactly zero of them. The curse on Wei Wuxian’s arm should be called the scorekeeper curse. 

Baxia’s spirit pinballs around the Mo clan, rapidly killing three people on Mo Xuanyu’s list plus a couple extras for good measure.  Who's a good blade? Baxia is! Yess you are! Yes you are!

This here is the exact point in the show where your friend, who has listened to you squee about The Untamed for three months and finally agreed to watch it with you, will say “what the fuck am I watching?” and try to get up off the couch. Tackle them! 

This also the point where we all realize that the prosthetic and practical effects in this show were probably not made by the people who made the clothing, because the quality is...variable. The white eyeballs are pretty good, but the glove of death is ridiculous.

Camera operator: why you gotta take it out on me?

While Baxia goes to town on the Mo clan, the Lan Clan babies...watch? And tie up the various victims after they are already goners. 

Narrator: Her son is dead.

Meanwhile, 

Wei Wuxian, you motherfucker. You’ve been alive for like 7 hours and you’re already building a new zombie army. No wonder you don’t want them to call Lan Wangji.

Hanguang-Jun Cut It Up One Time

Lan Wangji shows up and very slowly kicks zombie ass with his guqin. If you are used to Hong Kong action speeds, you will find The Untamed very peaceful.

 All of the baby Lans fan squee up at Lan Wangji like he's the cultivation world's David Bowie and...they're not wrong. Jesus Fuck, he’s charismatic.

Lan Wangji is soft boi when he discovers this murderous sword full of dead-bastard energy, because it reminds him of his true love.

Like the talk about souls, the conversations about the nature of the murderous entity really don’t survive translation into English.

Servant: it’s a ghost! 

WWX: it’s not a ghost, it’s a spirit

Babies: It’s a spirit

LWJ: it’s not a spirit, it’s a [...] ghost

Our Protagonist gets the FOH

Wei Wuxian is soft boi when he sees Lan Wangji, but not so soft that he considers actually, like, sticking around. 

Wei Wuxian is also clueless boi, noting Lan Wangji’s white clothing and thinking, as in the past, that he looks like he’s dressed in mourning. The term he uses is 戴孝, which google tells me means the type of outfit worn by Jiang Yanli after Wen Ning rips her husband’s heart out someone who is in mourning. 

Actually, Wei Wuxian, you dumbass, he is in actual mourning, actually, for you. Dumbass. He probably packed away all of his blue outer robes 16 years ago and only takes them out occasionally to reminisce about that nice date you had on your mountain of corpses. 

On his way out the door Wei Wuxian manages to find a red ribbon for his beautiful hair, so things are looking up. 

Where to go next...hey I know, how about that one haunted mountain with the killer statue, you know, the one that all my executed friends and child came from? That’ll be fun and a great way to put the past behind me!

Episode 02 Restless Rewatch is here!

#fytheuntamed #the untamed spoilers #the untamed gifs #the untamed #restless rewatch the untamed #tw: blood #tw: suicide #chen qing ling #cql #c-drama #bl drama #canary3d-original #the untamed memes #my gifs

[flappingdragon200]

Nozel Silva: The Demons' Vampire

A/N: This turned out to be a one chapter story instead of a one shot headcanon lol. Anyways, enjoy!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Honestly, this wasn't how he imagined himself to be in the future. Biting someone's neck, and sucking it until the human vesicle was nothing but rotten black flesh and bones, turning into black ash. He himself was surprised (again) as when he woke up next week's morning, having the thirst for blood. It sickened him to his bottom-dwelling rotten core.

How the hell did this even get this far... Nozel thought as he grabbed a fist full of his silver hair and pulled harshly, too tired to care about the pain, then massaging where he pulled at.

He still remembers the day he killed his first victim. It was disgusting, but satisfying, as he put it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was cold. The moon shined down on the Clover Kingdom. The wind was chilly as it danced in the air. On the streets, citizens walking about. And a royal who laid in his soft queen-sized bed, sleeping soundly, shallow breaths could be heard from his slumber. But something was off. Very off.

He woke up, feeling hungry, and angry. He threw the covers off him and marched out his room door slowly. (As it was still night outside and he was feeling tired.)

He quietly walked down the halls, of Solid's and Nebra's rooms, not wanting to wake them up. (Solid is a light sleeper and if he is disturbed he will go on full rage mode and destroy shit, which will then alert Nebra and she will start wreaking havoc as well.)

When Nozel was finally passed their rooms he began to speed walk over to the ginormous kitchen that they had.

Once he was in the kitchen, he opened the large ass fridge they had and looked for at least a snack or just something to satisfy his hunger until breakfast. His stomach growled so he quickly grabbed an apple that was saved for dessert today after dinner. But did he care? Nope. He was hungry.

Nozel walked into the living room where he would normally read his book in the morning. (One of those fantasy Novels as Yami puts it lol. Many chapters tho.) He sat down on his favorite spot and started to eat the apple while thinking of what he has to do today.

I have paperwork to do today so I'll get that done first... Then I have a business meeting at 3... Then I train solid at 6PM... Maybe I'll take short breaks here and there to ease my mind? I don't kn-

Shank!

Nozel's eyes widened a little startled at the sound. As he was taking another bite of his apple, he felt his teeth sink into it further than they were earlier. The apple turned to back and faded away as it turned to ash in his hands. It felt as if his teeth just rapidly grew into sharp pointy fangs.

Nozel sat there in silence. He had no idea what had just happened. It happened so quickly he didn't have time to react. He slowly got up from his seat and went to the bathroom in pure horror.

He got to the bathroom and turned on the lights, turned to the mirror, and almost screamed in pure shock, but instead the air was knocked out of him after he had seen his disturbing reflection.

His eyes were bloodshot, black soon closing in from the ends of his eyes. Sharp teeth, or known as fangs hung from his mouth, while large amounts of drool dripped down from his open wide mouth. His skin turned into white, not how it was earlier, almost looking like a ghost in human form.

Nozel backed up afraid. He was scared of himself. His eyes traveled all over his face in search of a prank. He pinched himslef to see if it was a dream. No. This wasn't fake, this was real. His eyes were pitch black his pupils were grey-ish white, looking like a monsters' eyes, and his stomach growled louder. He was growing hungry by the second. He didn't know what to do.

Nozel got up as he recalled the memory. The way he stalked the girl walking down the hallway and into her servant bedroom. How he waited for it to be silent to enter. How he walked closer to her and sank his fangs into her neck. The way she screamed, killed him in the inside. He regrets everything he's done.

Nozel looks out his balcony window and the sun is starting to rise, which means it's almost 6 o'clock. Nozel sighed as he walked to the bathroom and turned on the lights.

He opened up the cabinet underneath the sink and got a single blood packet out and sank his fangs into it letting them suck all of the red liquid out of the bag. His nose scrunched up in bitter disgust. And he snarled as he felt himself replenish his energy. He hated himself. He hated who he became, who he is. He hates his existence entirely.

He wishes he could go back to normal. But when one makes a deal with the devil... They don't go without being unharmed.

He remembers when he saw the face of the warlock that had cursed him 2 weeks ago. His face was soft, his skin was pale, like his. A smile on his face. His height, towering over him. A calming yet destructive aura. His smooth, shiny short black hair. His cold and warm red and pink eyes. The peacefulness that lied in his voice.

Nozel would be lying if he said he didn't have a small tiny crush on the taller male. He may deny it but he knows he does. A small pink hue made it's way and sat onto his cheeks as he thought of the warlock. He remembers the words he said to him, the first time hearing his calming voice.

"I can see that you are struggling in magic power and strength. Let me help you get stronger. How about we make a deal..."

The first mistake was even looking at him. The second, accepting the proposal. And third... Making a deal with The Devil. He knew he should have put more caution and thought into it. But it was something about his presence that made his body react sooner than his mind ever could. Now he knows to be more careful when approaching someone new and untrustworthy. He'll make sure he thinks twice before approaching.

By now after reciting all the memories from just 2 weeks ago he was almost done getting dressed. All he needed to do was put in his cloak and wrap his satchel around his waist with his grimoire inside. (after that)

Nozel walked to a desk with a fairly large mirror and hair products and along with a few hair brushes and combs. Nozel picked up the brush and started to untangle all the knots that were in his hair from a night's rest.

The pain of the de-tangling reminded him of his training with the warlock. How many times he fell onto his knees when sparing with him. The times where he was forced into doing chores for stamina and muscle. And the times he trained his magic to form into water, and steel. After his training was done he was 10x more stronger than he was before he met the warlock. He's pissed that he had listened to every command the warlock threw at him. He hated that he was bossed around by a demon, in disguise.

Nozel grit his teeth in annoyance and hatred. But the pull of a knot pulled him out of self-agony. He remembered what he was doing now.

A few minutes of wrestling with his hair he finally had gotten rid of the knots and tangles. He ran his fingers through the shiny and silky smooth like hair and thought of how he touched it. How he brushed it. How he braided it. How he took care of it. (Talking about the warlock when I say "he")

Nozel stopped and shook his head slightly to bring him out of thought and continue to style his hair.

He picked up the gel from a near corner of the desk and opened it to apply it to his resting sides of hair so that the strands won't get in his eyes and so it's off of his shoulders. After finishing, he placed the gel back in it's original spot and opened a drawer with a small box inside it.

The box was decorated with a small black ribbon at the top formed in a lightly tied bow. The box was a gold yellow color with darker lines of gold running across covered in a small amount of silver and gold glitter, with smaller black lines outlining the bigger stripes. And then there was a note beside it that said,

"It's a spare. Use it when you can't find your other one. Take care love." - Nivira.

Nozel felt a small smile form on his lips as he picked up the box.

Nivira was his best friend since childhood and before he met Fuegoleon. She stayed by his side and protected him, stood up for him, and encouraged him. She was the best friend he had ever had. That was until... She was dragged away from her home by her parents and sold as a servant for some higher group of nobles. But after a long time of trying to find her, Nozel found her in a dark ally way shortcut all bruised up and heavily wounded with obvious broken bones. So he brought her back to his estate and treated her wounds until she was back in shape again.

She has dedicated her life to him and will never leave his side again. It was like he had a personal bodyguard. Nivira might say that she's only staying by his side because he needs protection in this dark and cruel world, but deep down Nozel knows that she's scared that she might get sold again or something worse. So he started to train her and invited her to stay at House Silva as long as she wants and that she's always welcomed here.

Nozel closed his eyes as he imagines what she looked like. Blue hair with a bit of black dye at the top. A toothy grin on her face. Lightly tanned skin. Greenish blueish eyes. Her small form standing 5.1 in front of him. Her nails painted black and grey. And her enormous energy, fighting spirit, and childish behavior. He loved her the way she was. She brought the light to him when the darkness was threatening to swallow him whole.

He's grateful for her. And she's grateful for him.

Nozel pulled the lightly tied bow and it came undone. He opened the lid to the box and there he saw, A blue Silva pendant in the middle of black foam. It was made out of the most hardest metal the both of them could find. He placed the box onto the desk and started to braid his bangs. After he was done he took the pendant carefully in between his fingers and pinned it to the tip of the braid.

He looked into the mirror and smiled, Perfect.  He thought.

He stood up and put the box back in the drawer and closed it tight.

But happy times always end. And that's when it hit him. The realization that he forgot he's having breakfast with his siblings at 7:45. He looked over to the clock and it said 6:37.

I still have maybe an hour or more to spare... Nozel thought and opened the door and closed it silently when he walked out of his room making sure not to disturb any servants that are still sleeping. (Servants get up at 7 o'clock)

He walked down the hallways of the estate quickly and quietly not wanting to get caught. Instead of going to the entrance of the estate he went to the back where the garden is. He can sneak out of there through the yard and exit the palace without getting noticed (hopefully). It was a perfect plan.

He came to the door that lead to the huge garden the maids took care of. He opened the door and he saw a dim light on the ground, meaning the sun was rising, quickly. He closed the door and started to speed walk, hoping that no one will notice. (Btw the garden is so huge that it ends near the capitol main roads. There's a dirt path showing the way to the main roads of the capitol.)

After a few minutes of speed walking he could see the exit to the garden. Just barely out of reach.  He started to sweat Immensely knowing that anyone could catch him sneaking off. But... Just... One... More... Step...

He sighed as he reached the exit and wiped the sweat off his face. He opened his eyes and saw the sun-lit dirt path that lead to the royal capital's main roads where all sorts of people would be but not at this hour. He walked towards the dirt path and began the walk to the capitol.

-In The Capitol-

Nozel walked out of his favorite coffee shop with a cup of coffee in his hands. He slowly sipped on it as he was walking down the streets. Not many people were out at this time of day. But the people that were, whispered and looked at him oddly.

"What's lord Nozel doing out this early? Could he be running errands for his squad?" A noble male whispered to his friend beside him.

"No. I'm guessing he's just out doing his normal thing. See the coffee in his hands? That's how I know." His friend whispered back.

Nozel closed his eyes a bit and sighed quietly. This was one of those many times that he wished he was a commoner so he can get by just a single day without someone whispering about him or looking at him with a cautious look everywhere he went. He didn't feel safe no matter where he went. And he always had to keep calm and keep a good reputation, as to just one tiny slip up could be his down fall. For good.

He took his last sip of his coffee and through the empty cup in the trash can on one of the streets. He just now noticed that not many shops are open. Many have gone out of business from lack of funding or lack of management. Some of them even have been removed for higher class family businesses. A sum of them are also being remodeled so they are closed momentarily. A few of the shops he shopped at were either closed, or remodeling.

As he was walking down a street going to his destination he saw something, someone... Familiar... He took a closer look and recognised that short black hair shining in the sun, and the smoothness that makes you want to run your fingers through it. Nozel's eyes widen with shock and his nose scrunches up in hatred. His teeth grit in pain from the memories of the past.

He notices that the man turns around and walks towards him. He's only 1 foot away from him. The man leans into his ear and says,

"Oh How Is My Little Vampire Doing?"

End.

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For: @mrnozzlesilversimp

After a long time I have finished the story inspired by you art :,) thank you.

Also @thespiralgrimoire

@shinyshammie

@vermillionflames

@thoughtfullyrainynightmare

I come baring gifts for you? I would also like your opinion on it as well. I need to improve more. Thank you. 🙏💖

#nozel silva #nozel #vampire Nozel #Nozel as a vampire #fuegoleon x nozel #fuegoleon vermillion #nozel x fuegoleon #fuegoleon #black clover #black clover captains #black clover au #black clover fanfiction #noelle silva #Noelle #Asta #asta black clover #yuno grinberryall #Yuno #yami sukehiro #Yami #Zora #zora ideale #Henry #henry legolant #magna swing #luck voltia #luck #Magna #julius novachrono #Julius

[border-spam]

Leech Lord - Beginnings and regrets

The single least Seifa thing Seifa has ever done, is probably also the most actual Seifa thing she's ever done, and that's extremely Seifa of her.

It was going against every lesson survival had beaten into her so far in her life, and helping Tyreen instead of walking away all those years ago.

(Pre CoV)

Pandora is a terrible place.

The whole Galaxy is, Pandora just has a reputation that's honest about it.

The Edens, Athenas, Promethea, Tantalus, every city on every settled planet is built on a foundation of bones, nowhere's really safe or actually wants the humans that settled uninvited and ruined the neighborhood. Can't really expect an ecosystem to welcome you with open arms when you immediately start destroying it for profit, and life ain't easy anywhere. Nowhere is good. Nowhere is nice.

You can't live for long without finding out how dangerous "caring" is.

Small family units survive, yeah, clans scrabble out a living on rock plains and migrant space-rigs, but if you hold out a hand to a stranger in need you need to know the risks, need to really understand how likely it is that there's a knife behind their back and a couple of crosshairs already trained on you.

You have to be harsh, you have to be cruel. Everyone who makes it on the border planets knows the unwritten rules.

Unless you've the backing of a town militia or a hell of a lot of weaponry, you can't afford to risk your own safety for others - and Sei has walked past more people who gasped out a desperate plea for help with one of the few breaths they had left then she could ever, ever let herself acknowledge. Fuck man, everyone has. It's one of the sad truths of living at the knifepoint everyone balances on out here at the fringe.

...It's no different really on the corporate ones, the blades waiting to land in your back are just better dressed there.

So, when Seifa went to walk away from that filthy kid in the junkyard with the busted SMG and found herself stopping as the girl pleaded for medicine, that was beyond out of character.

That was weird. That was impossible to justify, and she lost plenty of nights to trying to do so after - long ones, with tears and far too much whiskey.

It's hard to think back on, how unsettling and stomach turning that first month had been. The whole thing feels like a blur, some grease smeared memory that's mostly lost to the desperately anxious conflict that was going on in her head the entire time. She can remember specific points, but they're half images half feeling, nerves and worry all tangled together into something she hates dwelling on.

She remembers the heat mirages swirling above the desert sands as Elpis set on the horizon, driving the girl out across the salt flats as Ty panicked and urged Sei to go faster, all while she was trying to explain to herself WHY she hadn't slapped this stranger out of her buggy and throttled in the opposite direction. What had gotten into her?

She doesn't remember anything that the kid had said as she was lead by her into that dark shack, still battling with why she wasn't turning around, why she was gingerly picking through debris to reach what looked like a hastily set up camp surrounded by rusting sheet metal and pieces that used to be the hovel - but she remembers the stink of fever sweat that wrinkled her nose and that sad mound of sharp angles heaped at the center by a burnt out fire pit, and the shock of realising it was a man when Tyreen had dropped to her knees and begged through sobs for him to keep breathing.

That she had "Found someone to help."

Recalls fighting back the equal disgust she felt with herself for helping carry the nothing he weighed out of that shithole, and for the fact he was still alive in this state. Covered in filth, blood, chunks of.. something, and reeking of puke and god knows what else. How she chewed at her lip till she tasted copper as the buggy engine rattled in complaint under them, flooring it when she knew the shoddy weld job on the left axle wasn't going to take this strain and would need another couple of hundred dollars she didn't have in repairs by the time she got these pathetic kids back to her ship - and she remembers wincing hours later at her empty medical cabinet after gutting it to keep the boy alive.

Saline stock sucked dry, bactum wasted, and she was saving those health kits for when she might need them...

It was a bad decision. It was a stupid decision, and she'd spent that first night when the girl had cried herself to sleep and he'd finally stabilised, sitting on the cold floor of her quarters with her back pressed against the repurposed mag-lock door, cradling her pistol in her lap as she gnawed at her nails.

They were Sirens.

Sirens.

Moron. Stupid fucking twat, If Boss found out, he'd kill her before these two could get the chance.

Helping them had been idiot move enough, had gone against every fiber of who she'd built herself into, but she couldn't have known. Tyreen had been covered in rags, and Troy's markings too dim and caked in muck to even see before they'd gotten him cleaned up and stable.

She hadn't known. She didn't know, nothing about Sirens anyway, just that you didn't fuck with 'em in the first place. Sirens were bad news, Sirens were the bane of Pandora in the last few years and everyone knew the stories. They were monsters who could turn you inside out or roast you alive without needing to point a gun first, and now she had two in her home with no defenses bar a shitty Jacobs she knew damn well she could barely aim, and hopefully enough faux confidence to seem in control of the situation.

That first night had been the worst.

The twins slept fine, Troy out cold and Ty having cried herself unconscious shortly after his heart beat had become something possible to confuse with normal if you squinted at the scan display from the right angle, but Sei didn't close her eyes once.

Sat awake all night in the clunking, humming, rattling silence of her home as she thumbed the revolver's cylinder slowly, considering how each click marked another second she'd left them both alive instead of doing the right thing and emptying a round into each of their skulls. Pandora would take care of the bodies and she'd fix a serious mistake she was walking straight into... but the suns rose in the end, and the twins were none the wiser about how close the decision had actually been.

It didn't really get better. The fear did, that passed over the next couple of days, but not the worry, not the regret. Two more mouths to feed when she only had the funds for herself? The girl was going to have to learn how to work. The cash she'd put aside was for her junker colony, not strangers, and the boy still couldn't even stand... and how were things going to pan out even if they so far didn't seem to be quite as monstrous as she'd been told so many times in no name dive bars in settler towns?

What if she took Tyreen out on a barter run and her markings got noticed? That mad corporate fuckwad Sexy George or fuckin whatever had just been running some reward scheme for Sirens, right? Would the lowbrows she dealt with on a daily basis here comprehend that wasn't a thing anymore, or would Sei be shanked and Ty abducted within hours of setting foot in a trade dock?

And him...

What the fuck was she going to do with him.

He wouldn't talk, wouldn’t even look at her, just some massive, gangly, awkward, nervous child that ghosted around the edge of her vision and scurried out of the room like a panicked Skag pup if she made the mistake of looking directly at him.

Sick still, even if he was trying to stay in his crew cubby for less every day, the one she'd told him was his and still had not a word of thanks for yet. Shaky, delicate, and in no physical condition to be able to help around the ship yet alone have a chance of bringing in some extra dollars, even if he hadn't been missing such a huge chunk of himself. Pity wasn't going to keep him fed, and she was pissed with herself for feeling it for him in the first place.

She figured that's what had done it really... them being siblings.

That raw desperation in Tyreen's voice as she'd begged Seifa to help when she'd turned to walk away. That her brother was so sick and she didn't know what to do. Siblings gut punched her in ways she knew were a weakness out here. The twin thing? That had just cemented it really. Helping wasn't in Seifa's nature, but leaving kids to die wasn't in her bones.

Still, she'd make it work, she always did. They'd survive, and she'd come out of this in profit one way or another, that was as sure as an Athenian monk lowballing an offer.

She'd train the girl up and run some deals with her, cover the costs of helping them out with a tidy margin for herself - then she'd leave 'em with the tools to survive, a couple of hundred bucks to get started and never have to see them again.

She'd be fine. She was always fine.

That's very Seifa of her.

Asks are Open!

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #troy calypso #tyreen calypso #seifa #leech lord #my hcs #my writing #fanfiction

[hopelikethemoon]

first date (Javier x Reader) [smut] {MTMF}

Title: first date  Rating: Explicit  Length: 3,900 Warnings: Angst, Smut (fingering, teasing, sex from behind, unprotected sex, if you squint there’s a bit of a praise kink and smidge of orgasm delay) Notes: Set a couple days after The Picnic. You can follow the timeline of Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Also, fun note: Yuca was a real restaurant in Miami at the time. Look up the “Mango Gang” for some fun Miami restaurant history. Summary: Javier and Reader go on their first date. 

Taglist:  @grapemama​​  @seawhisperer​​ @huliabitch​​ @pedropascalito​​ @rogrsnbarnes​​@thewallpapergoesorido​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​ @gooddaykate​​ @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow​@hiscyarika​​ @plexflexico​​ @readsalot73​​ @hdlynn​​ @lokiaddicted​ @randomness501​​@fioccodineveautunnale​​​ @roxypeanut​ @just-add-butter​

You lingered in the doorway of your bedroom, leaning against the doorframe as you listened to the conversation taking place down the hallway — the way that maybe you weren’t supposed to hear. But the condo wasn’t very large and despite Josie’s giggles and squeals as she played with the new Barbie her abuelo had brought her, you could clearly hear Javi and Chucho.

“We missed out on a lot,” Javier remarked. A sentiment you were all too familiar with. He’d gotten better at discussing the things that got under his skin. You’d always known him to be the type to repress his feelings, bottle it all up until it exploded one day. 

You thought of the night that changed everything, that set you both forward on a path that had led you here. The wild-eyed look as he stood in your bedroom, covered in Daniel’s blood. The haunted look he wore until the bruises faded from your skin — the way he still sometimes traced over the invisible marks he remembered. 

“You’re here now, when it matters.” Chucho offered wisely. “You can’t keep dwelling on what could’ve been.” He chuckled. “You could’ve been married to Loriane

Javier huffed at that, “Fuck that.”

“Javier.” His father hissed. 

“She’s heard it before.” Javier countered and he must’ve made a face at Josie because she was giggling at something. “It’s not like that. I’m not dwelling on the past, I’m just trying to figure out how to make up for it all now.”

“The best things in life are often the things we didn’t plan for.”

Javi sighed. “Yeah.” 

Your heart ached a little, listening to them. You knew how much it weighed on Javi. He tried to keep it from you, but you knew. It hadn’t been easy for you either. 

“I get caught up thinking sometimes, pops. About what might’ve been. If Josie hadn’t happened. If it had been a one-off thing between us and she brushed me off afterwards.” 

You couldn’t blame him, you had thought about that too. More than you wanted to admit. You knew you cared about Javier — you had for a long time. But Josie had been the reason...

“She was seeing this guy for a bit. Early on.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Nice guy; CIA, straightlaced, take-home-to-ma-type. I couldn’t fucking stand the guy.” 

Lance. Javier's description of him was spot on. He’d been a great boyfriend and a great distraction about a year into Colombia.  

Javier continued, “It had nothing to do with me. We were just partners then — friends. But I hated that guy. Never understood why until recently.”

“You know,” Chucho quipped. “I think you might’ve finally grown up, Javier. I always worried about you. Who you would have when I was gone.” 

“Pop—”

“No. Listen to me.” He said firmly. “I never thought you and Lorraine had a shot in hell. She wanted the picket fence life and you wanted… hell if I ever knew.” Chucho sighed heavily, “Something you couldn’t find in Laredo. I ain’t never seen you look at someone the way you look at the woman in there.” 

You retreated a little further into the bedroom, afraid they’d see you lingering in the doorway. You missed whatever Javier said after that, his voice muffled by the door as you walked over to grab your jacket off the bed. You shouldn’t have been listening to begin with. 

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the front of your dress. Javier had insisted that you dress up for the date — which felt ridiculous, all things considered. He’d found a fancy Cuban restaurant in Coral Gables with authentic food from an up and coming chef. Yuca was all the craze in downtown Miami. You’d read a dozen articles in the Herald about it. 

The dress was your color and it draped across your curves in all the right ways. You hadn’t actually worn the dress yet; it had been purchased in Colombia while you were still pregnant with Josie as a motivation to get back to where you once were physically. You looked hot and really, wasn’t that the whole reason for getting dressed up for a date?

You hadn’t actually been on a date since… fuck. The irony of him bringing up Lance. He was the last guy you’d been on an honest-to-God date with. After him, you threw yourself into work and guys whose names you didn’t bother to remember. 

You pushed the bedroom door open, heading down the hallway towards the living room. Chucho and Javier both turned to look at you and you wished you had a camera to take a snap of Javi’s face. His eyes warmed as they swept over you, his lips drawing into a grin. “You ready, baby?” Javier ran his hands over the tops of his legs before he slowly rose to his feet. 

Despite his insistence that he wanted to wear a suit, you had convinced him otherwise. Settling somewhere in the middle, Javier was dressed in a pair of dark jeans and a button-up shirt with his aviator’s tucked into the front of them. 

“I’m ready if you are.’

You knelt down next to Josie, grinning as she toddled over to you and draped herself over your knees. “Are you going to be a good little girl for your abuelo?

“Yes!” She said excitedly, looking up at you with the sweetest face. 

“I somehow don’t believe that.” You brushed your fingers through her dark curls, looking towards Chucho, “Thank you for this.” 

“Any time.” He smiled, looking between you and Javi. “Don’t be late for your reservations.” Chucho gave Javier a look. “Make good choices.” 

Javier chuckled. “I can’t guarantee that. Thanks again, Pops. For everything.” He remarked as he grabbed his leather Member’s Only jacket off the coat rack. “Let’s get out of here.” 

“You know what’s stupid?” You questioned as you took Javier’s hand into yours, walking alongside him down to the car. 

“What?”

“I’m so fucking nervous.” 

Javier’s shoulders sagged with relief, “Thank God it’s not just me.” He led you down to the car, unlocking the passenger door and holding it open for you. “We’ve been doing this for two years.”

“Right?” You rolled your eyes. “Two years and a kid later and I would love to know why my stomach’s in knots.” 

Javier slid into the driver’s seat, turning to look at you. “I dunno, but I do know that you’re gonna be the prettiest girl at the restaurant tonight.” He leaned over the center console and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. 

“Damn, I was hoping for the hottest. I have to go change.” You acted like you were going to get out of the car, but Javier curled his hand around her leg.

“I was going to say sexiest, but this is our first date. Remember?” He smirked. 

Yuca was exactly what you anticipated. A bustling restaurant that fully embraced the Cuban experience of Little Havana. You ended up ordering something called Cuban Corvina — a fish fillet with tomato fondue and coconut rice; while Javier ended up with a carne frita style pork shank. Far fancier than anything either of you made at home. In fact, the most adventurous food you’d tried was a toss-up — off-brand oatmeal that featured hatching dinosaur eggs or the dinosaur-shaped chicken that Josie was obsessed with. Everything had been dinosaurs with Josie ever since you picked Jurassic Park up at Blockbuster a couple months back. 

Javier grinned at you from across the table, before he grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled your glass. “Are you enjoying tonight so far?”

You nodded, a faint smile playing over your lips. “It’s a pretty nice first date.” 

“Just nice?” He pretended to be wounded by that. “I’m glad we made this happen.” Javi ran his thumb over his bottom lip, leaning back in his chair as he watched you. “We’ve got to do this more often.” 

“It doesn’t always have to be fancy, you know.” You suggested, leaning an elbow on the table as you picked up your wine, taking a sip. “I’m perfectly fine with a night out at a bar. Like old times.” 

“Like old times?” He cocked his head to the side, a brow arching upwards. 

“Yeah.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “We’re on this date because we’re both trying to make up for lost time. But we’ve never been fancy restaurant people.” You gave him a look. “This is nice once in awhile.” 

He scratched at his jaw and tapped his foot against your ankle beneath the table. “You’re not wrong.” He met your eyes, something almost sad lurking in his gaze. “But we’re good, right?”

“Of course we are.” You nudged his foot back beneath the table, before you confessed. “I heard you and your dad talking.” 

Javier blinked at you, before his brows furrowed together with a worried line between them. “Ah.” 

You nervously tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, leaning forward against the table. “I wouldn’t have. For the record. If Josie hadn’t happened, but that night did… I wouldn’t have blown you off.” 

A small smile played over his lips as he rubbed at the back of his neck, letting his hand rest against the side of it. “Does everyone else worry about the ‘what ifs’?” He questioned, glancing around the restaurant then. “Does that couple over there worry about what happened two years ago?’ 

“Probably.” You laughed softly, mostly because of nerves. Nothing about this conversation was humorous. “I mean, I get it. I worry too. All the time.” You met his gaze. “I worry that we’re too much alike and completely different in the same breath. It’s not as bad as it used to be, but… I used to worry that Josie was the only reason you were still here.”

 “No—”

“I know. Just like you know. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t worry. That I don’t.” You reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “Javi, I just want to be with you.” He tightened his grip on your hand. “Even though having Josie was horribly traumatic for both of us, I even… I can’t even believe I’ve thought about it, but… I even want to have another kid with you someday. Not right now, but one day.” 

“Don’t panic.” Javier said quietly as he reached into his jacket pocket. 

“Okay.” You arched a curious brow. “It’s not what it looks like, alright. I mean there’s a heavy implication, but…” He sighed heavily as he sat a jewelry box down on the table between you. “It’s not a ring.” Javier assured you.

You released your hold on his hand and reached out to pick it up. It was an older jewelry box, worn around the edges, and the hinge creaked as you opened it. Inside was a silver teardrop necklace with a turquoise stone inlay with a pair of earrings flanking it, similar in style. 

“It was my mother’s.” Javier told you, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “Part of the reason why my pops came to visit. He wasn’t about to mail it to me.” He smiled at you, though his anxiety was clear to see in his eyes. “I wasn’t going to make a big fucking deal about it. I was just going to give it to you, but this—” He gestured around the restaurant. “Seemed like a good place.”

“It’s beautiful.” You breathed out, not quite trusting your voice as you brushed your fingers over the stone. “Javier.” 

“She would’ve loved you.” Javier told you earnestly and you swore he looked like he might cry. “She would’ve loved Josie.” 

“I wish I’d worn something that went with turquoise.” You said lightly, sniffing a little. Brushing your hair aside, you unclasped the necklace you had been wearing, carefully putting his mother’s necklace on in its place. You curled your fingers around the teardrop setting, smiling across the table at him. “I’m so fucking glad it wasn’t a ring.”

“You and me both.” He laughed, tapping his foot against yours. “You're stuck with me, baby.” 

“Good.” You grinned at him, before you dropped your voice to a teasing tone. “Now, I want to know more about this thing about you hating Lance.”

He groaned, dragging his hands over his face. “Don’t fucking do that to me.” He shook his head. “Fuck.” 

“Inquiring minds want to know.” You batted your eyes at him. “Oh, come on Javi.” 

Javier rocked his jaw as he glared at you. “You and I both know, you would’ve been bored as hell with him after awhile.”

“Oh, I was.” You shrugged. “When I broke up with him, he wanted to stay friends. He took it so well.” You stuck out your tongue, before taking a sip of your wine. “Not that I think you and I are ever going to break up, but… I want some screaming, a couple doors slammed, and then I want you to try to win me back.”

“Damn, first date and you’re already planning our break up.” Javier said lightly, his lips quirking upwards at the corners. 

“Just think of the make-up sex,” You mused, curling your fingers around the pendant around your neck. That was the closest you’d ever come to being proposed to. It was, within the parameters of your relationship with Javi, exactly that. You had his mother’s necklace now — neither of you were going anywhere. 

“You have me interested there.” Javier swept his thumb over his bottom lip, brows drawn together thoughtfully. 

You smirked. “I thought that would catch your attention.” 

 ———

 “Shhh.” You whispered, pressing a finger to your lips as you closed the front door quietly. Javier groped at your ass and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you — louder than it should’ve been considering Chucho and Josie were asleep in the house. 

He was quick to clamp a hand over your mouth, pressing you back against the front door with a wicked grin playing over his lips. “Shh.” Javi drawled out, taunting you. His lips moved close to your ear as he shushed you again, his breath causing you to shiver in response. 

“Javi!” You curled your fingers around the back of his neck as you looked up into his eyes. It was dark, but not too dark that you couldn’t see enough of him. 

“How do you feel about fucking on the first date?” He questioned, leaning in to catch your bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I feel like we are not alone in the house.” You whispered, playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. 

“Then we better be quiet.” Javier smirked as his hand slipped beneath the hem of your dress, dragging up along your inner thigh. He leaned in to kiss you, swallowing up the sound that rose up in your throat as his fingers skimmed over the damp crotch of your panties. You pressed your shoulders back against the door, rocking your hips forward into his touch. 

Your mouth slanted over his, your tongue playing over his bottom lip before he granted you access. His tongue slid out to meet yours, tilting his head as he deepened the kiss. You moaned wantonly against his lips as he pushed aside your panties, pressing two thick fingers into you. It was a fleeting sensation, he pumped his fingers in and out of you — just enough to make you burn, before he abandoned you. 

“Javer.” You seethed as you slumped back against the door, watching the way he brought his fingers to his lips and made a show of tasting them. “You’re such a bastard.” 

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, smirking at you. “And you love me for it.” Javier jerked his head in the direction of your bedroom, holding his hand out for you. 

You let him guide you down the hallway to the bedroom, trying to keep your steps quiet as you crept past Josie bedroom. Fortunately, she’d gotten better at sleeping through the night. But she was still a light sleeper. 

Javier was on you the second he got the bedroom door shut and locked. Guiding you back towards the bed with a series of desperate touches. He dragged your jacket down your arms while you kicked your shoes off beneath the bottom of the bed. Your hands pried his belt off, sliding the belt through the loops, before ghosting your fingertips over his hardened length beneath his jeans. 

His hand slid around behind you, dragging the zipper of your dress down your sides. He unwrapped you, abandoning the dress to the floor beside the bed. “Fuck.” Javier swore through his teeth as he stared down at you. 

He brushed his fingertips over your collarbone before trailing downwards, running them between the valley of your breasts. “Look at you, baby.” He rasped out as he cupped your breasts through your bra, palming them roughly. 

You moaned quietly, gripping tightly at the fabric of his shirt. “I bought it just for you.” You had. Most of your wardrobe was practical, but you’d slipped away to the mall to buy something nice just for the date. 

Javier pressed his knee between your thighs on the mattress as he draped himself over you. “Aren’t I a lucky man?” He muttered as he leaned down to brush his lips over the swell of your right breast, dragging his thumb over the pebbled peak of your left nipple. You arched your back, grinding down against his leg — needing friction. Needing more. 

Another moan escaped you and Javier was quick to press his hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. His eyes flashed to meet yours, dark and clouded with lust. “You’ve got to be quiet, baby.” He warned you, pinching both of your nipples through your bra. Desire lanced through you hotly and you bucked against his knee. Your panties clung to your slick cunt, the fabric not enough as it dragged against your throbbing clit. 

“Are you going to be quiet for me?” Javier questioned as he removed his hand from your mouth, fingers sliding down to lightly wrap around your throat. “I know you can be a good girl.” His praise made you whimper against his hand. He must’ve known how badly you needed to be touched. He removed his knee from between your thighs and replaced it with his hand. He peeled your panties down your thighs, tossing them aside. He released his hold on your throat, taking a step back to look down at you. 

Javier ran his hands along your inner thighs, parting your legs wider as he trailed them higher. You bit down on your bottom lip, resisting the urge to cry out as he pressed two fingers into you. “Answer me, baby.” He drawled out, “Are you going to be quiet?”

“Yes.” You gasped out, chest heaving as you tried to keep your breathing steady. But it was hard to focus on anything other than the way he curved his fingers within you, the way he dragged them over that sweet spot within you. You trembled, looking up at him. “Javier, please don’t tease.” 

He leaned over you and caught your lips, kissing you fiercely with his fingers still buried within you. He pulsed them in and out of you twice more before he abandoned you yet again. “Roll over.” He ordered softly, brushing his slick finger over your bottom lip. “Please, baby?” 

You nodded breathlessly. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you rolled over onto your stomach. Javier pulled you towards him, helping you steady yourself on your feet as you leaned over the foot of the bed. He stroked his hands down your back, over your hips, before he took a step back to divest himself of the rest of his clothes.

“You look so fucking gorgeous.” Javier drawled out. You glanced back over your shoulder, your eyes sweeping over his bared flesh. Desire pooled hot between your thighs as your gaze fell to his erection resting hard against his belly. 

You curled your fingers, twisting the bedspread beneath you. Javier’s hands found you again, gripping tightly at your hips as he guided his cock to your center. He didn’t tease you, he spared you both that torment. 

“Javi.” You moaned quietly, hips rocking back against him as the full length of his cock settled into you. You clenched around him, urging him to move. 

Javier’s grip tightened at your hip, his other hand finding purchase in your hair. He drew out nearly completely before thrusting back into you, picking up the pace of his movements. His cock driving into you again and again. 

You pressed your face against the blanket, muffling the sounds that threatened to escape you. The moans, the whimpers, the soft cries of pleasure. He had you careening towards the edge, your body tightening around him. Right as you reached the precipice of your release, he withdrew — leaving you empty. Your cunt throbbed, desire coiling hotly in your belly.

He didn’t give you a chance to protest, gathering you up in his arms. Javier rolled you over, keeping an arm wrapped around you to draw you in towards his chest, holding you to him as he reached between you, guiding his cock back into you. 

It took two thrusts before your orgasm took hold of you, your cunt clenching around his cock, dragging out his own release from him. He sank his fingers into your hair, cradling the back of your head as his lips found yours, kissing you like his life depended upon it. 

In the wake of your pleasure, you both managed to find your way to the top of the bed, sinking in beneath the covers. You curled into his side, cheek resting against his chest, your arm draped over his stomach. 

Javier’s fingers played with your hair, traced fingers over your bare back. “Think you might go on a second date?” He mused quietly.

You tilted your head to look up at him with a grin, “I’ll have to check my schedule.” You teased lightly, brushing your fingers over his jawline before you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. “I hear there’s a great place that serves dinosaur chicken nuggets and mac and cheese.” You whispered against his lips. “It’s close too.”

Javier hummed thoughtfully. “I’ll have to make us a reservation.” His fingers ghosted over the necklace where it laid against your chest. 

“I’d like that,” You reached up and dragged your fingers through his hair, kissing him again. “Hey.” 

“Yeah?”

You brushed your nose against his, stealing another kiss. “I love you.” 

Javier curled both of his arms around you and pulled you in close. “Love you too, baby.” 

 Maybe you would both keep trying to make up for lost time, maybe that was just part of what your relationship would always be. But something about tonight had you convinced that you could move forward. That his mother’s necklace was the symbol, the token, the unofficial proposal that harkened the beginning of letting go of the past. You would always wear the wounds like invisible scars — but you didn’t have to let them define your relationship. Neither of you could let your self-inflicted damage keep you from moving forward. Together. 

#javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena #pedro pascal x reader

[a-vintage-snake]

The Mountains Are Calling And I Must Go

Pairing(s): Romantic Dukeceit

Warnings: Self deprecation, mentions of shitty parenting, Remus being Remus Characters: Deceit Sanders, Remus Sanders, Virgil and Roman are there for like a paragraph, Logan is mentioned exactly once.

Summary: There lives a warlock in the mountains, and Remus is determined to hunt him down.

Word Count: 4861

Edit: This is now officially has a sequel! Read it here

Read on AO3 Author’s Note: I love Deceit and Remus, and I wrote this instead of sleeping

There lived a warlock in the mountains. At least that was what Remus was counting on. So far he hadn’t gotten a glance of the fucker yet, but he was nothing but optimistic.

He spurred his horse on for what felt like the thousandth time that hour. Realistically, Remus knew that the mare was exhausted and they both needed sleep soon. But he didn’t want to waste time resting when he could find his goal (hopefully) any minute now! The sun was nearly setting and he wanted to explore as much ground as he could while he could still travel without risking falling down one of the mountain’s cliffs that twisted alongside the path he was following. What would it be like to fall down from such a height? Would he crunch his head on the spikey rocks below? Splatter his brain in a pretty pattern on the rocks- Or maybe he would fall with his feet first, causing his bones to rip through his flesh and- Remus shook his head to chase away the thoughts like an annoying fly. Usually he would delight in thinking all the options through, but not right now. He had a mission goddammit, and it needed all his attention.

--

He had heard all the stories of this warlock figure. All the vague whispers that people would delight in telling and listening to, despite the fear. The warlock ate children who got lost in the woods; he took young men and women to experiment on them in his hidden castle. Tell him your name, and he would take control over your mind. He hid away in the Desolate Mountains, waiting for the day he could capture the kingdom for himself. He was the kingdom’s greatest threat. The warlock was a monster. At this point of the stories Remus always interrupted saying that he thought “Desolate Mountains” was a really lazy fucking name and honestly where was the name giver’s creativity? This was always followed by the storyteller and listeners screaming at him to get away, we never invite you for a reason, we don’t want you here, how did you even get in here but Remus always prided himself in asking the questions people would rather not ask, hear or experience. That’s how he found himself at one point sitting atop the worktable of the court sorcerer. “So this warlock fellow-” “Your Grace, could you kindly get off my work?” “How would one kill him? Is it like vampires? Stake through the heart? Although really, you can kill anything with a stake through the heart, why do vampires think they’re so special?” Remus sent a wide grin towards the purple-clad figure on the other end of the table, who was glaring at him so hard his pupils were barely visible through the dark marks around his eyes. The court sorcerer looked ready to summon the shadows he controlled so effortlessly, and have them throw Remus out of the nearest window. Ha, jokes on him though! That would be considered treason! “Or is it more like witches? Burn him at the stake? Or drown him? Heh, have you ever wondered what it would feel like to drown?” “Geez, why don’t you go to one of the garden’s fountains and find out?” Virgil bit out through gritted teeth. Remus fell back cackling, rolling in the sorcerer’s precious notes for good measure. “You’re so funny Virge! The funniest little shadow we got around here!” “Look, your Grace,” Virgil bit out the title like it was an insult. “If I knew anything about the warlock in the mountains, I would tell you-” “Oh come ooooooooon!” Remus whined. “You do magic, you gotta know how to end him somehow! Give me something to work with! Chop his head off? Recite some spells? Ooh what’s this??” Virgil quickly snatched the bottle with the bubbling silver liquid away from Remus’ curious hands. “This is an erosion potion.” Virgil grumbled. “One drop and a rock the size of a man will melt away like water.” “How fun! Have you ever used it on people?” “What? No, of course not-!” “Well you should, for science’s sake- Logan would appreciate the experiment!” “You know I highly doubt he would-” “Ooooh, why don’t we ask the scholar himself that? Bet the nerd would love to participate-!” “LOOK,” Virgil took a very deep breath through his nose, and exhaled through his mouth. “No one knows how to defeat the warlock, okay?? If I knew, I would have done it years ago!” “Boooo, you’re no fun.” “Hell, if anyone could kill him,” Virgil continued on, ignoring Remus. “That person would be hailed as a hero! But knights and heroes who go in the mountains disappear without a trace, and we can’t-” Virgil’s sentence was cut off when he was tackled by a green and black blur to the ground. Letting out a litany of curses, he went to push the squirming prince off of him, but he stopped in his tracks when he looked at Remus’ face. The prince’s lips were turned in the most manic grin Virgil had ever seen on him, and his eyes were wide as saucers. “ ‘Hailed like a hero…?’ ” Remus whispered. “Are you sure about that…?” “Uuhm… Yes?” Virgil answered. “AWESOME!!” Remus screamed in his face, before scrambling up and running from the room in a flurry of thrown about papers and slamming doors. Virgil sat up, utterly bewildered at the sudden exit. But eventually he shrugged. At least he had some peace and quiet now… Remus didn’t stop running until he burst into his room, where he changed into his best traveling clothes, put on his warmest cloak and started grabbing his favourite weapons to bring with him, along with his beloved morning star that he grabbed off the wall. After that he ran to the castle’s kitchens, where he under wild protests of the cooks shoved various foods and a water bottle in his bag. Then he proceeded to dash to the stables, where he screamed at the nearest stable boy to prepare his favourite mare for traveling. “Remus?” A voice behind him asked. When Remus whirled around, he was faced with the confused stare of his twin brother. “What the hell are you doing?” “No time to talk bro-bro!” Remus hauled himself up the horse. “I’m off to kill the warlock that lives in the mountains!” “Wait, what?” Roman’s mouth fell open. “Are you nuts? You can’t just-” “Don’t wait up for me!” Remus yelled as he spurred his horse in a gallop, out of the castle’s gate. “BYYYYEE!!”

--

That was three days ago. Three days where he barely slept, ate while riding and only ever stopped to allow himself and his horse the bare minimum of rest. And now here he was, leading the mare on coiling paths through the treacherous cliffs and the dwindling treeline. And he still hadn’t caught a glimpse of this supposed warlock. Or his stupid hidden castle! Although, Remus considered, if he could easily find it he supposed it was a pretty shit hidden castle. The last light of twilight was almost gone. Grumbling to himself, Remus reluctantly halted and stepped off his horse. After tying her to a nearby tree and giving her some water, Remus searched for firewood and made a small fire. He then proceeded to very grumpily stare into the flames. Tomorrow he would search harder. He would find that son of a bitch, chop his head off and bring it gift wrapped back to his mother and father. And then he would get a statue, and a song written for him, and- And had it been this misty the whole time? Remus quickly sat up, his hand flying to his morning star. Tendrils of mist had surrounded him, and moved in closer with a fluidity and grace that reminded Remus of how Virgil would move shadows in his hand. Excitedly Remus got up his feet, hands bringing up his weapon and a frenzied giggle leaving his mouth. Finally finally finally-!! “Show yourself!!” He yelled. “You’re a long way from home, sir knight.” A dark, crooning voice answered him. Remus twisted around. In the light of the fire, Remus could make out the tall, slender figure of a man standing between two trees. The mist seemed to curl itself around the man, like a cat greeting it’s master. The man was dressed in all black, and a large hood was pulled over his head, shielding his face away from Remus’ eyes. Remus squinted at the hooded figure. “Are you the warlock that lives in these mountains?” He asked. No use accidentally shanking the wrong guy. The man made a dismissive hand wave. “I suppose I am. But pray tell, who are-” Remus didn’t let him finish. With a vicious battle cry he lifted his morning star over his head and charged towards the hooded man. He swung his weapon towards the figure… And only met thin air. He stumbled, but quickly regained his balance to look for his target. Where the fuck did that slippery eel go? “My, aren’t you an impolite one.” Came the cool voice from behind him. Remus whipped around, seeing the warlock study him with a tilted head. Once more Remus charged at him full speed, hoping to strike his morning star right into the man’s side. But yet again, the man disappeared the second Remus tried to hit him. “What exactly are you hoping to gain from this?” The warlock’s voice came from his right. He appeared unbothered by the attacks or the furious glare Remus threw him. Remus once again ran to attack the man, and let out a frustrated screech when the warlock disappeared and reappeared behind him before he could land a blow. “Stop moving!” He hollered. “Let me think. Hmmmm, no.” This continued on for a minute, and Remus’ assaults only grew more frenzied with every failed hit. He grit his teeth so hard he was surprised he didn’t break his molars with the sheer force of it. His grip tightened on his morning star. He was going to beat this guy to a bloody pulp. He was going to chop his stupid head off, and break every part of the rest of his body, grind his bones into dust, eat his fucking organs until nothing was left-! “This is getting tiresome…” The warlock sighed. “Then actually come out and FACE ME, YOU-” “Look into my eyes.” The voice suddenly boomed from his right. Remus’ head turned so quickly his neck gave a painful crick, glee already flooding him because his target was right there all he had to was- And beautiful swirling golden eyes met his gaze. Remus stopped his movements abruptly. His mind was startled in unexpected silence, but he didn’t care or bother to question why. All he wanted to do was to keep staring into those golden eyes. “That’s right,” The smooth voice purred, and oh. That was possibly even better. The soft rumble of the warlock’s voice seemed to fill every nook and cranny of Remus’ head. Every crammed little corner emptied of its contents and instead replenished with gold and honeyed words. “Now darling,” The warlock hummed. “How about you throw all the weapons you have on you into that ravine over there, and then we’ll have a civilized conversation? Wouldn’t you like that?” Remus nodded and turned to stiffly walk towards the edge of the cliff. He immediately missed the golden gaze on him, so he swiftly went to work. First he threw his morning star down in the depths, followed by the sword on his side, then the daggers in his boots, the small axe and the blades on his belt, the kitchen knife he had grabbed last minute for good measure- Behind him the warlock chuckled. “Not sure if I should be scared or impressed.” The warm amusement in the man’s tone curled itself up in Remus’ chest and made him feel all kinds of weird and fuzzy. He wanted to make the other laugh and smile more, just to have that feeling all the time. Disposing his last weaponry down the cliff, Remus turned again towards the other. The warlock had sat himself down on a large boulder, and gave him a small nod. “Very good. Now come here.” The man beckoned with one finger. Remus didn’t need to be told twice. Eagerly he marched up towards the other man, and dropped himself on his knees in front of him. And before he could think about it, Remus buried his face into the other man’s lap, his fingers curling into the warlock’s pants’ leg. The warlock stiffened at the sudden contact, but Remus barely noticed. God, he just wanted to be closer, closer- “Well this is new...” The voice murmured above him. Remus froze. Fuck fuck fuck, he did something weird again, he had screwed up, why did he do that, why was he like this-! All panic was immediately silenced when a hand gently started carding through his hair. Sighing, Remus practically melted into the soft contact. A low keen left his throat at the feeling of sharp nails lightly grazing his head, causing the most pleasant shivers to roll down Remus’ spine. “Let’s try this again, shall we? You may call me Deceit. And what’s your name, bold knight?” Somewhere in his head an alarm bell started ringing, but Remus took that bell and beat it to a flat mash before kicking it right into the sun. “My name’s Remus… Remus Alveraz…” He muttered. “Oh my… Am I in the presence of genuine royalty?” Deceit played with the silver lock in Remus’ hair. “I feel honoured. And to what exactly do I owe this privilege?” He should probably lie to him. In fact, lying was absolutely the best option if he wanted the soft touches to continue. However the second the possibility of lying crossed Remus’ mind his head seemed to clog with a dense fog. Above him the warlock gave a soft tut in disappointment. “No use lying to me dear,” Deceit slightly scolded. “Come now, you can tell me…” He didn’t want to, he absolutely did not want to, but the thick fog made even the smallest white lie seem like a herculean task. “I came here to kill you...” Remus relented quietly. Immediately the fog lifted from his mind. And weirdly enough, the hand didn’t stop caressing his hair. “Funnily enough, I figured that out that much.” The amusement was back, and with it the fuzzy feeling in Remus’ chest. “And why were you sent on such a quest, hmm? Didn’t whoever sent you warn you of the stories? Those who enter the mountains shall never return I do believe it was.” “I wasn’t sent by anyone,” Remus muttered. “I wanted to do this myself.” “Ah, that explains some of it,” Deceit said. “So why exactly did you want to do this then?” Remus opened his mouth, ready to answer with for the glory of the kingdom, so his country would be free of fear, so the people could sleep easily again, so he could be their hero. Before even a syllable could leave his mouth the fog clouded his mind once more, even denser than before. His reasons choked on his tongue as he struggled to speak. “You’re lying, little prince. And not even to me, but to yourself. Which I always considered far worse than lying to the world.” The hand in Remus’ hair tightened and his head was turned sideways, so he could glance up at the man above him. The shining golden eyes were the only things visible under the hood and their beauty entranced Remus once more. “Tell the truth.” Deceit whispered. “I… I wanted…” Remus struggled to answer through the fog. “Tell the truth.” The warlock commanded. The power of the order settled heavily in Remus’ bones. “I just wanted people to see me.” The admission left him in a rush, and the mist in his head finally disappeared. Whatever Deceit had seemed to expect, this wasn’t it. The hand released his hair, and Remus immediately turned his head to hide his face back into the other man’s lap. The truth stung on his tongue. “And why exactly do you think people don’t see you…?” Deceit’s voice was thoughtful. “Aren’t you their beloved prince?” A bitter laugh left Remus before he could stop himself. “No no no no… Roman is the beloved one of the two of us. Perfectly charming perfect prince. People fall over their feet to wave at him, would chop their own kid’s fingers off for a chance to kiss his ass and all that shit, and I’m…” For once in his life Remus actually wanted to stop talking. But whatever spell was compelling him forced the truth out he had been ignoring for years. “I’m the spare. They don’t see me; they just see a failed version of Roman. The unwanted child. The family disappointment. Good for nothing, weird, scary, stupid freak of nature. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid-!” “Enough.” The order came out quiet like a hush, but Remus immediately stopped talking. Calmly he waited for Deceit to throw him off, to sneer and mock him for his not so royal behaviour. Perhaps the warlock would use him for ransom to get the kingdom from his mom and dad. Although, seeing as what Remus just admitted, it would probably be more likely he’ll just kill him and be done with it. He found that the thought didn’t really scare him. Just as he considered if Roman would miss him, Remus startled as he felt the warlock’s hand go back to ever so gently caressing his hair. Carefully he peeked back up to the other man. The golden eyes had lessened in their intensity, and Remus knew it was wishful thinking when he thought he saw sympathy in them. “Who made you believe that about yourself, little prince?” Deceit asked softly. The question surprised him. Remus shrugged. “It’s just the truth… I’ve always been the fuck up. I can’t do anything right. I couldn’t learn properly when I was a kid, my interests are weird, I’m too much…” “Too much of what?” “Everything! Too loud, too distractive, too grotesque, too annoying,” Remus rambled up from his head, repeating the words teachers, nannies, tutors, friends and family had told him over the years. When he just couldn’t sit still during lessons, because why would he when there were thousands more interesting things to do. “You’re a bad example for the others!” When he struggled with understanding the lesson material because he just couldn’t focus on it no matter hard he tried. “You’re just being lazy.” When he rambled on about his favourite gruesome stories and fairy-tales almost without being able to stop because they were so interesting! “I think he’s disturbed.” When he played with the other children and made them cry when he played too rough, spoke too loud, told too many scary stories. “You’re a freak!” When he pulled his twin brother along with his mischief and he ended up the only one being punished. “You’re a bad child.” When his parents praised Roman, only to send disappointed glares towards him. “Why can’t you be more like your brother?” Not good enough, no matter what he did. Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough. NEVER GOOD ENOU- “Remus.” The soft voice jump startled Remus out of his spiral. His throat had tightened and his eyes were prickling. Without realizing he had tightened his fingers nearly painfully in the fabric of the warlock’s pants. He quickly loosened them. “ ‘m sorry…” Remus mumbled. Sorry I exist. “No need…” Deceit shushed. “There’s no reason to apologize.” Silence settled between the two men for a while. The warlock sat in quiet consideration, while Remus tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He shut his eyes tightly to keep the prickling of tears back. Fuck, he thought he didn’t care… He thought he had hardened his heart enough that it stopped bothering him years ago, how no one could look at him without disgust or annoyance. Turns out he lied more to himself than he was willing to admit. Remus focused with all his might on the soft stroking of his hair that, despite everything, was still happening. He couldn’t quite believe his luck. Most people had shoved him away by now. “Now what I don’t understand yet,” Deceit finally spoke up. “Is why you thought killing me would help you?” Remus gave another half-hearted shrug. “I mean, you’re the country’s biggest enemy…” “Am I? My goodness, I feel flattered.” Deceit said flatly. “Roman always gets praise whenever he slays a monster… And he can’t come after you! Mom and dad made Roman promise them that he would never try to find and defeat you.” That had been when they were both teenagers. “… And they never made you promise not to do that?” Remus didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. His silence said enough. He heard Deceit take a very deep breath. “So you hoped that if you brought back my head, you would get their artificial praise and magically all their neglect would go away?” Deceit’s voice had taken a biting edge. “I guess… I mean, Virgil said that-” “Virgil?” The hand stopped moving, eliciting a small whine from Remus. “As in Virgil Storm?” “Yeah…” Remus was surprised. The warlock knew the court sorcerer? “He told me that the first person to kill you would be hailed as a hero…” “The basssstard…” The warlock hissed out. “I taught him everything he knows, and this is how he repays me? Ungrateful little whelp…” Deceit continued quietly scowling, and Remus was caught between giggling over the warlock calling the scary court sorcerer a whelp and begging him to continue stroking his hair. In the end he kept quiet, despite how difficult that was. Eventually Deceit finished his little rant, and silence fell once more. Remus didn’t mind, since Deceit absent-mindedly started to massage his scalp, which made him want to melt into a little puddle of princely goo. “You’ve been mistreated, little prince…” Deceit said. “Terribly mistreated. The world saw that you were different, and immediately labelled you as defective. But I’ll let you in on a little secret…” Remus stiffened when the warlock leaned down closer to him, and he felt the other man’s breath on his ear. “There is nothing wrong with you.” Deceit whispered. “That they refused to open their minds to the potential you possess, is their loss and their loss alone. You are not broken, you are not useless or anything they tried to make you believe. You are whole, my prince. Complete, just the way you are.” Deceit sat back up, and Remus couldn’t hold back the tears prickling in his eyes anymore. A sob left him, loud and ugly, while his body started to tremble. Deceit rubbed his back, gently shushing him all the while. “It’s alright,” Deceit murmured. “You’re alright… Sleep now, dear.” At the warlock’s words, Remus felt his eyelids and body grow heavy. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but it felt like a thick, warm blanket slowly embraced him. The last thing he heard before he fell into a deep slumber were Deceit’s words; “Sleep now, and you’ll see… The morning will come with a better future.”

--

Waking up was a slow process. Remus felt like he was slowly floating down from a very warm cloud, and he didn’t quite wanted to be back on the ground just yet. He hadn’t slept this long and peacefully in years. So he stayed on that edge between sleeping and waking for as long as he could. When at last he blinked his eyes open, it took a few minutes of staring up at the dark wooden ceiling before he realized he didn’t recognize it. Wait, where was he…? Abruptly the memories of last night came flooding back. The mist, a soft hand in his hair, his impromptu confessions, and the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Wildly flailing Remus sat up and looked around. He was lying on a cot, and he had been covered with a soft wool blanket that he threw off with his sudden movements. To his right was a tall window, and in the final light of a distant sunset he could just make out the castle, his home on the horizon. Wait, sunset? Just how long had he been asleep? “Ah, so you’ve finally awakened.” Remus head whipped to his left, and he took in the rest of his surroundings. The room he was in had high ceilings, and every wall was covered in shelves filled to the brim with vials, jars and jugs. From the ceiling hung bones, dried herbs and something Remus recognized as massive dragon wings. A bookcase big enough to fit twice in his room was nestled in the far corner, stuffed with so many books that some were stacked in small piles in front of it. And illuminating the whole scene, a large cauldron sat on a simmering fire in the middle of the room, a yellow glow coming from the elixir being brewed in the iron pot. In front of the cauldron stood the warlock, his back to Remus. One of Deceit’s hands stirred the substance, while another grabbed a vial from a table next to him to add it’s contents to the elixir, another hand grabbed a handful of dried herbs to throw in as well, and yet another pair of hands held a book open-! Remus watched in utter fascination, as the warlock used no less than six arms to work tirelessly to make the potion in the cauldron. “You’ve slept for quite some hours,” Deceit said, not stopping or taking his eyes off the cauldron. “I was already beginning to think I used too potent of a spell on you.” Remus’ mouth opened and closed again. Thousands of questions were racing through his mind, ranging from Where the hell are we to What do you want from me and Are you aware you have six arms but what he eventually settled on was; “Why did you bring me here?” Deceit’s actions stilled. Gently, he set down the supplies in his hands and Remus’ eyes widened when the extra four arms seemed to retract back into the warlock until with a shudder they had disappeared. Then Deceit finally turned around. The large hood of his cloak was still hiding his face. Slowly Deceit approached the cot, and Remus, who absolutely was not the type of person to get scared easily, pressed his back into the window behind him while his heart thumped in his throat. There was a vague thought passing through his head that maybe the glass would crack and he would plummet to his death after all, but it was quickly dismissed when the warlock stopped in front of him… And moved to pull back his hood. First Remus noticed dark brown hair, in messy curls. Then he saw how the left half of the warlock’s face was attractively covered in dark green scales, which ran from his forehead over his cheek into his neck and disappeared under his collar. His eyes were not swirling gold this time- Instead Deceit’s right eye was a dark hazel, speckled with golden flecks. And the other… The other was a piercing yellow, with a split serpentine pupil. Those mismatched eyes took him in with a calculated look, and Remus’ heart started thumping louder, but no longer in fear. In fact, it started thumping so loud it felt like his heart wanted to tear bloodily through his ribs and flesh to get out. His stomach started doing all kinds of funny flip-flops as well. Distantly he was aware that his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t quite bring it up yet to care. Deceit smiled, revealing fanged teeth, and brought one slender, clawed finger under Remus’ chin to close his gaping mouth. “Careful, you might eat a fly,” Deceit said with a chuckle, and then sat down on the cot across from Remus. Which proved to be a test to his sanity, as Remus’ mind immediately started supplying him with all the creative things he could do to the warlock on that cot. Tracing his lips over the scales, seeing if they’re hot or cold, running his hands through those lovely curls, while fanged teeth bit Remus’ neck- “It’s impolite to stare, you know.” Deceit interrupted his thoughts. Remus shook himself away from the fantasy before it could get too detailed. “As for your question, well... We seem to have… Similar stories and motivations.” Deceit gave him a sly smirk, and if Remus hadn’t been gone yet, he would have fallen for that look hard. “I think we might be able to help each other out, don’t you agree?” Remus nodded so wildly he was surprised he didn’t snap his neck. Anything, he would do absolutely anything, if it meant that those mismatched eyes would remain on him.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #dukeceit #demus #deceit sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #my very first sanders sides fic!

[ask-de-writer]

IDOL TIMES (1 part), a Classical Fantasy

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to Classical Fantasy

IDOL TIMES

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

1988 words

written 2003

copyright 2013

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of fan activity, cosplay, stories, music, plays or skits or anything else is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

“The thieves of Istar are a bunch of lowlife cowards,” declared Rumol, as he snagged a beer from a passing server’s tray. The server noticed the theft, so he tossed a copper fluket onto the tray.

“That’s the kind of talk that gets folk from Kelin beat to a pulp in Istar,” replied Durson mildly from the next bench. “We’re as brave as any thieves that you will find.” He reached over and took a swig from Rumol’s beer. “Now, suppose that you clear up that claim that you made.”

“Simplicity itself,” retorted Rumol, retrieving his beer. “Look about you. You see thieves on hard times. The whole country is in a depression. Nothing to steal that’s worth the theft, you say. Nonsense! The temple of the Chained One stands ripe for the plucking! It’s a whole orchard of treasures and you are starving! I rest my case.”

“You tell us nothing new. Where does the cowardice come from?”

“Why,” said Rumol indignantly, “if you know about a prize like that, and you don’t take it, what other reason can there be?”

“You might try prudence. We are not as stupid as you think us. The Chained One’s temple is guarded day and night by vigilant priests with pike and spear. The treasures cannot be had - bribery has been tried and failed.”

“Perhaps you have not noticed that the temple is only locked, not guarded, on the night of the full moon. The priests retreat to tightly locked quarters. There is a large round hole in the nave roof. It is the perfect time to make a small expedition, using simple skills, for great reward.”

“You are out of what passes for your mind! The Chained One is unchained on that night! Other thieves have tried what you suggest. None has returned. The Chained One is always in a different position after the full moon.”

“It will be safe,” scornfully stated Rumol. “See this?” He held up a chip of stone, smooth on one side. “It came from the Chained One̓s reverend rear, this afternoon. Common stone, very well worked, it is true, but stone nonetheless. If folk disappeared, they must have left a priest hidden inside the temple. We need only take a crossbow and pick him off through the hole in the roof.”

“None of us will help you,” replied Durson. “You still haven’t explained how the Chained One moves.”

“Preserve me from fools!” exclaimed Rumol. “The figure is probably jointed. The priests sneak back through a tunnel and rearrange it.”

“And the live pony that they leave for a sacrifice?”

“You just heard me say that they have a tunnel. They lead it out and sell it, or save it to use again.”

“Well, you have a glib answer for everything. We have lived here all of our lives. We will not risk it.”

“Then you confirm my first statement - you are cowards. I will see to the treasures myself. Don’t expect any share from me,” declared Rumol. “The local guild can do without my dues if I can’t get help.”

Rumol stood, a bit unsteadily, and strode out of the tavern. A few blocks down the street, on the way to his lodgings, he ran into some “friends”. Guild enforcers. One took his arms from behind, while the other faced him. “Heard some talk about a little rat not payin’ his dues,” he said through his Guild mask. “This may help you to reconsider.” He hauled back his arm for a mighty blow to the stomach.

Rumol erupted. He let the man who was holding his arms support him while he lashed out with both feet. As he connected, he straightened his back and smashed backwards with his head. Both men went down, taking Rumol with them. The fall broke the grip of the man holding him; he got up quickly and, leaving them on the ground, ran to his room.

He paused only long enough to gather his few possessions and go out again, without, of course, paying the landlord. “I’ll avoid the guild’s enforcers by camping in the jungle outside the city for the next few days, until the full moon,” decided Rumol.

Two days of shooing serpents out of his sleeping roll and swatting bugs made him wonder if any job was worth this.

The night of the full moon found Rumol, dressed in black, alongside the Chained One’s temple. Sunset and moonrise were nearly the same time and sun was just gone. He had to hurry. He had attended the ceremonial Unchaining only two hours ago. What he had seen had confirmed most of his plans.

Checking his equipment, he made sure that he had his small crossbow, a grapnel, rope, jimmy and a variety of bags for packing loot quietly away. Swinging the grapnel, Rumol heaved it at the top of the wall.

If there were any gods (Rumol had his doubts) they were with him. The hook caught on the coping at the first cast. He was up the rope like a serpent up a vine. Pulling the rope up after him made him reasonably safe from the city watch. The moon began to rise in a nimbus of orange glow at the horizon as he crept in a leisurely way across the roof to the large round hole. Spaced about it were plinths, each supporting a representation of a major moon phase.

Testing these for security, Rumol looped his rope about one. He tied it by wrapping the rope twice about the shank of the grapnel and letting the rope fall between the hooks. Simple, secure, and to be unfastened in an instant, if need be.

With owl’s eyes Rumol searched the temple for hidden priests. Seeing none, he let down the rope, with the bags tied to it as a decoy. Still nothing. Taking no chances, he cocked his crossbow and carried it in the crook of his left arm, as he lowered himself to the floor. The pony whikkered hopefully.

Rumol strode over to where the pony was tied, for his one minor last-minute change in plan. He stroked the pony’s nose and gave it a carrot. That attended to, he set about his work.

All of the altar-ware had been put away in stout cabinets. A few minutes’ work with his jimmy laid the cabinets open to his gaze. There, before his eyes, was the wealth that those fools were afraid to come for. So far, the job had been absurdly simple. Carefully packing each gold or silver vessel into its own smaller sack, he then put them all into a large bag. He left the candlesticks. They were brass.

His next target was the vestry where the jeweled robes, miters, censors, and other priestly gear were kept. The several services that he had attended told him which door to attack. It had only a small spring lock which broke at once under his educated assault. The cabinets where the priestly goods were kept fared no better. Soon, all were looted and their contents resided in Rumol’s bags.

As he emerged into the nave, he saw that the moonlight was partway up the idol. Its two lower eyes glittered green. Emeralds of that size would never happen, but they might be peridots or beryl. Any faceted stones that large would be worth a king’s ransom.

Never one to leave a job half done, Rumol began to climb the idol. Placing feet on huge haunch, thence to paunch, forearm and then to shoulder, he finally straddled the mighty muzzle. The Moonlight clearly showed the two lower eyes to be set in a cement that matched the stone perfectly. It was modeled to resemble eyelids. In a few moments the moonlight would reach the third eye, too. Rumol set to work on the lower right eye.

Just then, the moonlight came to the third eye, and the muzzle tilted as the great head shifted. The eyes blinked. A deep soft voice rumbled, “Please get that thing out of my eye.”

Hanging on for his life, Rumol squeeked in fright, “Let me down! I didn’t know that you were alive! I’ll just get my things and leave you in peace.”

“You do that,” the deep voice said. Great paws set him gently on the floor.

Quickly, he gathered his loot and began to climb the rope. The huge paws seized him gently but irresistibly, and separated him from the rope. “You said that you would take your things and go. Those things are mine.”

Rumol almost squeaked in fright, “Don’t eat me! Please!”

“Eat you?” the idol answered in surprise, “I would never do that! Where ever did you get that idea?”

“Everybody says that you eat a pony - and any thieves - every moon.” Rumol shook his head, “I didn’t believe them.”

“Well, the pony is my dinner, that’s true,” the idol held him closer to its eyes which were now thoroughly lively, “but I don’t often get a guest to talk to. The priests never stay anymore. They know that their spells keep me from escaping this room as long as my body is stone, which is not likely to change anytime soon.” The idol paused in thought and a devious expression came and went from its massive visage.

“You went to a great deal of trouble and danger to get these things, didn’t you?”

Enfolded in the mighty paws of the idol, Rumol contented himself with a nod of agreement.

The Idol set him down in front of the altar. It carefully emptied out all of Rumol’s booty. “I see that you have even taken the lunar divination die of silver and ivory. If you will stay and talk, I will give you a chance to win some or all of the of these things. Let us play for what you have taken. Each of us will roll in turn. The one whose phase is closest to full wins. Waxing phase is higher than waning. The blank new moon always loses. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

The game progressed swiftly. Sometimes the advantage was with Rumol, sometimes with the idol. Eventually, chance alloted all the loot to the idol. Rumol stood dejected.

He brightened when the idol proposed, “One more pass? All or nothing?”

“Certainly. You’re the best winner that I have ever known. Anyone can be a good loser. Graceful winning is the test.” Taking the die, Rumol threw a waxing gibbous moon. The idol promptly made its throw. A full moon came up. The idol took Rumol gently and said, “You lose. As you have nothing else to give, look into my third eye.” Rumol did as he was bidden; he really had no choice.

Rumol felt a great disorientation and confusion; there was the impression of something dark going up, near him. His right eye hurt. He felt hungry and felt a stiffening all over. There was an intense urge to get up on the altar. As the moonlight faded, he got stiffer and the urge to get onto the altar got stronger, until he could not resist it any longer. Gazing longingly at the pony, he got up on the altar. With the last of the moonlight, consciousness waned on the thought that he was going to be very hungry by the next full moon.

The next morning the priests were surprised at what they found. A young acolyte exclaimed, “This is terrible! The Chained One has refused the pony! Look, there he stands. I pray you, lord priest, what does it mean?”

“Use your eyes, young man,” the priest replied sonorously. “See you not the bags, the jimmy, the broken cabinets? Another fool has tried to rob us.

“Now, while we priests replace the chains, you acolytes clean up the mess. Be sure that things are put away properly and then run get a carpenter to fix these cabinets.”

-THE END-

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This completes Idol Times. If you enjoyed what you just read, please go to the Master Story Index for links to all of the stories that I have posted on Tumblr.

#IDOL TIMES #Classical Fantasy #Written by De Writer

[scribeofmorpheus]

Mark of the Wolf Part 12

Catch Up Here!

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader (Lastname: Markolf)

Words: 5k

Warnings: For once... no violence in a MOTW chapter. But... maybe some poorly written rushed angst? I’m sorry... I just wanted to keep this story alive without having to wait a month in between updates... Oops!

A/N: Ayyy... Next chapter things are gonna heat up a bit.... and not just with our killer hunter tree people (Oh gawd, this sentence was stupid.) Enjoy meeting the family!

Leave a like or reblog if you enjoyed this chapter! It helps ☺

~

The drive to the Homestead was filled with awkward silence, half snores and faint mumbles traded in for regular conversation. You had been resting against Derek's chest the whole drive, teetering between full-on sleep and temporal distortion from constantly zoning in and out -or at least, it felt like you were time travelling whenever you'd close your eyes for a second and then the next thing you knew, a whole hour had flown past.

Your dreams were foggy, hitting you vividly one moment then incomprehensible the next. Several symbols flooded your thoughts when your eyelids closed, so did Alyster’s hoarse voice, but you blocked most of that out. Through all the disorder within your brain, only one image presented itself clearly and repeatedly: the bow and shank of a golden key without a bit. You kept sketching it in your mind. Over and over and over again until you started tracing the outline of the shape on your thigh using your index finger. Derek noticed but didn’t say anything. You were grateful because you wouldn’t know what to say had he asked.

You knew instantly the moment you were close to home. The air smelled of pine and rain. The sound of chirping and crickets filled the night. You felt Derek's muscles uncoil as soon as that fresh forest air hit his nostrils. He took a long, deep whiff and that caused his chest to rise and the beating of his heart to accelerate. The sound was… calming.

A howl woke you from your half-slumber. You were greeted by a tense energy swarming inside the car. Markus chuckled before reassuring everyone it was simply your youngest brother, Jonah, alerting the rest of your family to your arrival.

The driveway was narrow and paved by pebble-sized stones in place of tar or cobble, the sound of tires rolling over stone was familiar yet odd. Out from behind a tall hedge was the old, two-story wood and brick style house and behind that was the cabin and shed. Your mother and father were standing on the porch, tight smiles on their faces diluted by the breezy way they waved their arms. Beside them stood your sister, Esme. She was wearing workout clothes, undoubtedly from spending her day training Jonah -who was nowhere to be seen.

"Home, sweet home," Markus said as he got out of the car and was promptly greeted by Esme's fist punching his side. "Oof! Why do both my sister's insist on punching me? Are hugs and handshakes no longer an acceptable form of etiquette amongst werewolves?"

Esme's brow was furrowed, she looked furious, "Werewolves, yes. Siblings, not so much.” She punched him again, “You had us worried."

You were certain she was ready to rip him a new one right there and then by scolding him with a wordy speech she had undoubtedly practised several times in the mirror, but it never came. In place of a tongue lashing, she completely blindsiding him with a strong hug. A relieved sigh leaving her full lips.

As soon as you stepped out of the car, you were nearly toppled to the ground by Jonah -who had no doubt picked up the same blindsiding habit from Esme- with one of his trademark sprint hugs.

"Y/N! I missed you! How's your new job? Saved any pups lately? Get bitten by any mean cats? What about your new house? Is it spacey? Do you have your own porch swing? I know how much you love porch swings. You probably noticed ours is gone, I kinda, sorta, maybe broke it. Anyway, what about your neighbours? Is it weird moving someplace where your nearest neighbours can hear it when you sneeze? You sneeze really loudly! Are they nosey or rude or--" Jonah rambled at a faster than lightning pace.

You were still winded from his surprise hug, you almost didn't know what was happening. You couldn’t even get a word in between each speed round of questioning he threw your way.

"I missed you too Speedy," You giggled as you patted his lithe back, he was taller and skinnier than when you last saw him. That worried you. "The real question is: 'What have they been feeding you?' You're practically all bone!" You gawked at your parents.

Your dad chuckled, pushing his glasses farther up his nose, "Don't look at us. He eats more than Esme and Markus combined."

"Hey squirt," Esme wrapped you in a hug after she released Markus from her stony embrace. After she peered over your shoulder with an arched brow at all the strangers currently disembarking from the cars. "I see you've brought guests. Good thing you called ahead of time to give us a heads up." She retorted.

"Oh tish, Esme. Don't be rude," your mom walked down the steps and welcomed the strangers at her doorstep. “Please, ignore her boorish manners. Any friends of Y/N are friends of ours. Welcome, welcome.”

Stiles fumbled a bit, wiping his clammy hands on his jeans before offering a handshake. Scott and Liam inched closer to offer their own introductions while Derek and Peter took in the sheer scope of the Homestead, the latter of whom let out a whistle before remarking, “We invested in the wrong kind of real estate...”

“We?” Derek huffed.

“We’re family. Family is always entitled to a ‘we’,” Peter pointed out.

“I think we are the exception to the rule,” Derek strode away from the insulted looking Peter and introduced himself to your parents. Theo had remained silent and guarded during the entire welcome wagon. The overly warm ambience threw him off. He stood out like a sore thumb. An uncomfortably sore thumb.

"How's the fiancé?" you asked Esme with a bright smile as you made your way inside the house. It was probably the first time you'd been able to smile freely ever since you moved to Beacon Hills.

It comforted you that the house still smelt the same: sandalwood and lavender. Sandalwood was your dad’s go-to scent, he used it to try and mask the smell of tobacco from your mother whenever he’d sneak a cigar. He was never successful in that endeavour. Lavender was the go-to scent of all the candles Maggie made from scratch. She was a dabbler in aromatherapy. Everyone else in the house would always complain about strong smells during Summer, that’s when she did most of her brewing and mixing and distilling like some new-age witch without the pointy hat or warty nose. Your wolf nose wasn’t as keen as everyone else’s, so it never bothered you much. Not unless she was working with jasmine, you couldn’t stand the smell of jasmine.

Esme rolled her eyes, "She's driving me up the wall. Who knew planning a wedding could be so… stressful."

You cocked your head to the side, "Wait, I thought Maggie wanted to elope?"

"She did, originally," Esme sighed in your mom’s direction before shooting you a small smile. "Mom talked her into having a traditional wedding instead."

"All I did was show her your grandmother's wedding dress and a few photo albums, Maggie is a grown woman, she is allowed to change her mind," Your mother winked in your direction.

Jonah darted around Derek and Scott, nose high in the air as he far-from-discretely investigated the new werewolves.

"Hey, Speedy, what is the general rule when you meet other werewolves?" Esme asked with a hint of exasperation in her tone.

Jonah huffed a sigh and pulled his lips into a pout, eyes cast down, "Never be too obvious…”

“And?” Esme pressed.

Jonah bit his lip, “And don't sniff the air… it's rude."

"And what were you doing?" Esme's hands were on her hips now.

Jonah kicked at the air, "Being rude."

You elbowed your sister when you saw your brother's pouting face pull lower, "Cut him some slack, E. He's allowed to fib a little. He’s still a kid. You all had a learning curve too." You held out your hands for Jonah and he dashed to your side and cradled under your frame as though you were his security blanket. He shot Esme a shit-eating grin. "Don't worry Speedy, I'll protect you from the big, bad wolf."

Esme snarled, her eyes turning blue for an instant and then she chuckled and ruffled Jonah's sandy curls, "You're lucky Y/N's here. But don't think for a second that you can use her to get out of morning training."

Jonah shone his golden eyes in a puppy dog manner and Esme simply smacked his face playfully, not having any of his younger sibling bullshit tactics. You laughed at the weird sound he made after Esme’s palm left his face.

You had been so caught up in just being back home and slipping back into comfortable habits that you had forgotten to introduce everyone. "Oh, how rude of me. I haven’t done proper introductions yet. Mom, Dad, Esme, Speedy, these are my… friends from Beacon Hills. That's Derek, his uncle Peter, Scott, Liam, I'm not sure who he is because we met two nights ago and we took separate cars and, of course, we all know Deaton. We had a seventh, but we left her in Mexico."

Theo smirked at your quirky way of saying you hadn't been introduced and gave a half-wave as he decided to handle his own introductions, "Theo."  

Everyone gave a wave or a nod or an inaudible, 'Hello'.

"Everyone, these are my parents, Christian and Estella Markolf. The sour face over here is my sister Esme, you all met Markus and this little runt over here is Jonah.” You shook Jonah around like he was a ragdoll, prompting a giggle from him. “Our emissary, Maggie is… somewhere, though I'm not sure where."

"She headed into town early this morning, apparently a package arrived for her," Esme filled you in.

Jonah sniffed the air again, though not as subtly as he thought he was being. Then he turned and whispered to Esme, "Does he smell strange to you?" he set his eyes on Theo.

"Yeah, I'm not all werewolf, that's why. I'm surprised you picked up on it," Theo explained to him loudly.

Esme hid her embarrassment behind a scowl, “Speedy, we just went over this…”

Jonah ignored Esme’s protests and started up a conversation with Theo, "I have a condition that makes my wolf senses more excited than normal. It means I’m constantly running about or my nose picks up on strange smells from miles away. One time I smelt a campfire that was lit on the other side of the property line. Oh, and this one time I heard scratching in the house and it nearly drove me up the wall because it was so loud but no one else could hear it… turns out it was a rat in the basement."

"Ah, Chimera," Theo offered in explanation. "What's your…uh, condition?"

"ADHD," Jonah said simply.

Peter looked at your brother like he suddenly transformed into a peacock and you protectively glowered at him. Derek subtly stomped on Peter’s foot and he let out a hiss in pain. You bit back a laugh.

"Well," you father cleared his throat. "Now that we're all… acquainted, let’s see if we can make some room for all of you. And then after, we’ll let Markus explain what exactly he was doing in Mexico and why he and Esme never bothered to tell their parents they were planning on doing something stupid." he glanced between Esme and Markus with an inquisitive brow arched high. Both your siblings looked away like they’d been burned and shuffled awkwardly.

“Before you go on and tear Markus a new one, remember to mind your temper, your blood pressure is a whole thing now and I don’t need to tell you to keep a handle on it,” your mother patted your father’s chest lovingly before turning to her eldest son. “And you. March on upstairs and take a shower and a couple of aspirin. You reek!”

 The house was full and bustling with energy. In every room there was a conversation to be had or a chore to be done. The only time the house had been this full was the time when Maggie had invited her extended family over from Ireland to visit over the holidays.

The house was already beginning to bud off into smaller groups. The youngest members gravitated towards each other. Jonah and Theo hit it off quite easily and it didn’t take long until Liam was pulled into their orbit. Before you knew it, they were outside roughhousing like teenagers -though, to be fair, Jonah was barely over eighteen.

Peter and Esme got to talking about her former pack down in Sao Paulo and Deaton, Scott and Stiles were in the study looking over several open books and notes Maggie had compiled about the hunters. Derek and Markus were outside somewhere talking in hushed whispers. Meanwhile, your dad was helping you and your mother set up your old room.

"It's good to have you home," your mother said as she unfolded the duvet cover. "Despite the circumstances."

You shrugged, focusing your energy on putting the duvet cover on the right way round.

"Though it is rather ironic," your dad chipped in as he brought several sleeping bags down from the attic. "You left to get away from all this werewolf business and somehow you come home with more werewolves. Next thing you know you’ll be marrying a werewolf."

"I get it, I'm a walking disaster with a magnet for the supernatural," you half-joked.

"That Derek boy and his uncle seem quite familiar to me," your mom's face scrunched up in thought. "He wouldn't be a Hale by any chance?"

"Y-yeah… how did you--?"

"I knew his mother, way back when, before I left my old pack." She interrupted you as she fluffed several pillows and took down several blankets from the wardrobe. "He looks so much like his mother..." her eyes glanced out the window and then back at you. “And quite handsome."

You tossed a pillow her way, "Very subtle."

She winked, "It's just an observation."

Your dad grumbled as he took the blankets out of her hands and headed out of the room, "I sure do hope that’s all that was."

“Ignore him, he’s only just gotten used to the fact that he isn’t alpha anymore, he’s a little more territorial than usual,” she snickered behind a quilt.

 You heard the clinking of Maggie's chunky metal bangles and numerous pendants before you heard her footsteps when she barged in through the front door holding a cardboard box marked with a 'Royal Mail' stamp on it, "Hey, who are those two strange boyos with Jonah outside?"

She stopped with wide eyes when she saw you, arms spreading wide so she could squeeze your frame between her two plump arms. The frilly sleeves of her summer dress rolling up so you could see her tattoo sleeve in all its glory. You noticed she had gotten a new tattoo added to the collection.

"Aww, Y/N, I've missed you! I didn't think we'd be seeing you so soon after you left..." she studied your face and frowned when she noticed the dark circles under your eyes. "You haven't been sleeping at all. You got a bad dose of stress, don’t you? This won't do." Her strong Irish lilt was still very much present on her tongue.

"Hey, Maggie, I hear you aren't eloping anymore?" you asked and she blushed dotingly.

"What can I say, I decided I wanted the fairy tale wedding after all," She tucked her short hair behind her ear as a deep blush set on her freckled face. “I’m guessing those new additions amongst the garden gnomes belong to you?"

"Oh, I brought more," you nodded behind you where Derek, Peter, Scott and Stiles were all gathered.

"Who is that tall drink of water?" she whispered, but you knew they all heard.

You ignored her comment and glanced down at her parcel balanced between her arm and hip, "What's that?”

"Oh, it's a book my brother sent over," she used her shapely nails to rip open the box with little to no finesse. "Aha!" she cheered when she finally got it open. "It's the right volume too! I’ve gotta crack on with this sweets. We’ll hang properly later, yeah?"

You nodded and stood aside to let her through.

She trotted over to the study and immediately started flipping through pages after a short and sweet introduction to the rest of the pack. Maggie and Deaton got to catching up while Stiles, who was face timing with a pretty girl, pulled up a chair to join them with their studies.

Derek glanced your way while Peter rambled to Esme and Markus about something. He flashed a quick smile at you that caused the temperature in the room to grow much hotter. You hovered aimlessly for a second before seeking out something to do. You settled for sticking your head in the fridge to try and cool down.

Those words Alyster had spoken before kept fading in and out of your subconscious all day like a malfunctioning dimmer switch you could never turn off all the way.

That night, you, Esme and Maggie had curled up under your covers with a pint of lemon sorbet and an old boxset of Friends on DVD. Even though you enjoyed your time away from the madness and bloodshed and time being hunted to the ends of the earth, you never quite relaxed into the secure sanctuary of your bedroom walls.

The crappy TV in your room had the worst sound and you had spent most of the night pretending to watch the poor quality video while Esme and Maggie rotated between bridesmaid talk, the new pack of wolves you had brought home and how many muscles Derek was hiding under his shirt -that particular topic seemed to interest Maggie more that Esme, who simply made disinterested noises every time her better half brought up the topic.

"I mean… I bet his muscles have muscles..." Maggie ate her spoon full of ice-cream slowly, mind elsewhere. "He seems like the kind of guy who would work out shirtless."

"Come with us, and all this chaos can end. Come with us and I'll tell you the truth."

Esme sighed, "If you like him so much, marry him." her words weren't mean or unpleasant, simply the ramblings of a bored woman tired of hearing Maggie fawn over Derek's muscles.

"Come with us and you will learn of your importance to the Order... And the fate of the world."

"I mean… with your permission," Maggie said sarcastically before peppering what could only be cold kisses onto Esme’s cheek, smudging her rouge lipstick all over your older sisters face. Esme didn't mind it one bit.

"All we want is you."

"Easy there, future Mrs Quinn-Markolf," Esme wiped the lipstick smudges onto her t-shirt sleeve. "You keep smothering me like this and I may just have to rethink the, 'Till death do us part' clause in our vows."

Maggie snorted, "Yeah, you'll have to rethink it if you think I'm going to be known as Maggie Quinn-Markolf for the rest of my life."

"Your blood is special.”

Esme pulled away from Maggie, “What? Is Quinn-Markolf not euphonic enough for you? I thought our love was stronger than the clashing sounds of our hyphenated last names!” she retorted.

“Your lineage is special.”

Maggie scrunched her nose and gave a blunt, “Nah, you’d be sorely mistaken there, love.” Esme gasped and Maggie peppered her cheek with more kisses before she could escape from beneath the covers, “I am only codding ya!”

“You are special."

Despite the playful atmosphere, you were too distracted to enjoy the moment.

Esme noticed you had been absent from their conversations and she chalked it up to more than just exhaustion or anti-social behaviour, "You okay, squirt?" she nudged you with her shoulder.

You hummed, taken by surprise by the question. "Yeah, why?"

"Because you've been a little… distant tonight," Maggie finished her thought for her.

"I..." you wanted to say everything was fine. You wanted to put up a brave front and soldier on, but something in you cracked and you had to hold back a sob as you finally caved in, revealing everything that had happened to you since you saved Derek in the vet clinic. You even revealed the part about you almost agreeing to be the sacrificial lamb when Alyster was in your head.

Neither your sister nor her fiancé said anything, they just let you talk and talk until you passed out. It felt good to be open and truthful without the fear of sudden judgement.

The next day, when you woke up, you were squished between Esme and Maggie. Their soft snores waking you from the longest sleep you'd had in a long while. It felt good to get that off your chest. But for some reason, the atmosphere in the house changed. It grew a little more tense.

The days following your homecoming blended together. The pack had spent their free time doing research and trying to come up with a viable plan of action. Liam, Jonah and Theo began to form an odd bond over their werewolf otherness -Liam with his IED, Jonah with his ADHD and Theo with his being a Chimera. Together, they were one ingredient short of turning into some form of an incendiary device. Their energy was exhausting, as was their constant rough-housing. You couldn't fathom how Maggie managed to reign them in whenever they got too rowdy. 

Things with Derek were different. He was more distant and whenever you did interact, he'd act pricklier than usual. He was giving you the cold shoulder. Most of the time, if he could avoid it, he wouldn't look you in the eye when he talked to you. His jaw would twitch every now and again as he spoke between clenched teeth. Peter delighted himself in watching your painful interaction. He’d always have a snide comment that would cause Derek to sigh or just walk away.

It was like Derek was being accosted by your very presence and that drove you up the wall. That was why you were storming into the woods at dawn in old combat boots and baggy pyjamas. This behaviour couldn’t continue. You wouldn’t allow it.

You found him in the middle of the meadow, he was shirtless and sweating. His biceps were straining as he dipped his body low in a single armed push-up. You were dazed for a moment, the first glimmers of daybreak causing his sweat slickened body to glisten. It seems Maggie was correct in assuming he worked out without a shirt. A flush burned at your cheeks and you bit your tongue in frustration. Damn him and his perfectly chiselled muscles.

"What are you doing out here so early?" he grumbled out without looking at you.

"I have a bone to pick with you. Didn't want to do it in front of the others," You placed your hands on your hips as though that would make you look more imposing. It didn't. 

He stood and let out a strained exhale, bare chest heaving up and down as his midriff tensed and relaxed with every breath. He brushed a hand through his dark, sweaty hair and strode over, picking up his water bottle and spritzing himself with water in an effort to cool himself down.

You could have sworn you saw some of the moisture evaporate off his body. It made you gulp.

"Alright," he was panting, eyes dark. "What is it?" his jaw did that thing again and your face grew even redder. You hoped he'd chalk it up to anger.

"You've been acting… strange around me ever since we got here. Most days you don't even look at me. Usually, this wouldn’t bother me, but we’re supposed to be working together here and I can’t help but feel like maybe I did something wrong... Well did I?"

His eyes narrowed, "Did you do something wrong?" he repeated the question with a condescending tone and then laughed darkly. "Oh, I don't know. I'm usually elated whenever the person I'm trying to protect from sudden death flirts with the idea of giving themselves over to the homicidal maniac that's been stalking them across the country!"

You gasped, "You heard me?"

He rolled his eyes at you, "Of course I heard you! The whole house heard you! You live with a family of werewolves that have super hearing!"

You were growing antsy. What gave him the right to be so angry over something that didn't concern him? What gave him the right to eavesdrop on your private conversations with Esme and Maggie?

You were positively fuming now, "Well, since you took it upon yourself to listen in on my private conversation--"

"I wasn't listening in. I have supernatural hearing!"

You held up your hand to hush him, "Let me finish. Since your supernatural hearing picked up on my private conversation, then you obviously heard why I flirted with the idea of giving myself over to that homicidal maniac. He promised to let you live. I thought you were going to die… all of you."

"That doesn't make things better. He could have been lying to you for all you knew!"

"What if he wasn’t?

"He was!"

"What if he wasn't and all this madness would have ended once I gave myself up?"

"I don’t believe that! And neither should you. I can’t believe you were so reckless. Do you have any idea…" He ran a hand over his scruff roughly. “We promised to protect you. How do you think I would have felt if you wound up dead? Or how Scott would have felt? We chose to put our lives on the line. That was our choice.”

"If it comes down to me choosing between myself and everybody else, it’s simple math. It's my life! I never asked you to try and take it upon yourself to save me! I don't need your permission."

"Maybe you don't get a say in the matter!" Derek's eyes turned blue as he took a step closer to you. “Math isn’t all it’s about. It’s not all check and balance. Death isn’t permanent for everyone else who’s left behind. It just becomes an addition to their own equation.”

You were shaking now, voice going hoarse from all the shouting, "What gives you the right to presume to know what is and isn't best for me or what I can and cannot get a say in?" You finger poked at his chest repeatedly.

He wrapped his strong hands around your wrist, but there was no pressure, he simply used his hold over you to pull you closer so you could better hear his whispers, "Absolutely nothing."

Voice feather-light, you whispered back with a searching gaze, "Then why are you so mad with me for trying to do the right thing?"

"Because..." he tried to explain but gave up with a sigh and then dropped his water bottle.

Before you knew it, Derek's arms snaked around your body and his lips crashed onto yours in a heady kiss. His sharp canines grazed over your sensitive tongue and lips in a seductively dangerous manner. The kiss felt dangerous…forbidden. The perfect balance between pain and pleasure.

You gasped in shock when he deepened the kiss, his tongue coaxing yours to become as fervent as his -lapping, suckling and massaging tender flesh in sweet torment. A deep rumble emerged from his chest that caused your locked tongues to vibrate. Instinctively, he pulled you closer until you were pressed flush to his hot body. You moaned on reflex and felt blood rush to your head until your vision started to spin.

When he finally broke away, you stumbled and took a few breaths to try and gather your wits. Derek's wolfishly warm palms were cupping your face, forcing you to stare up into his deep green eyes. "Because you drive me insane." He finally finished.

"Oh..." a frog set itself in your throat and you had to clear it with a few awkward sounds, "I- Uhem! I, uh… didn't know that. I… I-"

You were flustered and in shock, your body burning with a sensual desire you hadn't had a second ago. All you could think about was how good his lips felt on yours. How soft and tender and deep the kiss was. How talented his tongue was.

You had to fan yourself to try and cool your skin. When that wasn't enough, you grabbed Derek's water bottle off the ground and sprayed yourself with the remnants inside.

With a shrill gasp, you turned to Derek, mustering what little dignity and authority you had left and spoke sternly at him, "That still doesn't excuse your behaviour. I'm glad we could resolve this like adults. I'll see you at the house. I have… things to do. Have a good… exercise."

You nodded to yourself and marched away, leaving the sounds of Derek's baffled chuckles behind. Before you reached the house, Jonah had appeared out of some unseen position and stopped you mid-stride. You shrieked from freight and frowned at him when he gave you an apologetic look.

"Jesus, Speedy! Don’t do that… Announce yourself next time or wear a bell," you steadied your breathing. "What is it?"

"Sorry, it's just, Maggie you know, she… uh, sent me with a message and told me to get to you as quickly as possible," Jonah rambled.

You placed a hand on his shoulder to slow him down, "Talk. Slower."

He nodded, a yawn deforming his smile, "She -Ah, good you're here, I don't have to run after you too. And, oh wow, you’re shirtless. I like running around shirtless too. Esme doesn’t like it though. She says I blind her with my pale skin. It’s not my fault that I can’t tan as nicely as the rest of the family," he spoke to someone behind you.

You turned and noticed Derek had run down from the meadow after hearing you scream. The flush from before threatened to return but you chose to focus on Jonah’s message and not Derek's intense stare.

"Right, okay, back to why Maggie sent me out here to look for you guys," Jonah continued. "She thinks she's cracked it."

"Cracked what?" Derek asked as he pulled his shirt over his shoulders.

"You know, the mystery behind the hunters who’ve been killing werewolves all over the place and what it is exactly that they want," Jonah smacked his palm on his forehead. "She thinks she knows what they are too, thanks to that book Caleb sent her –Caleb is her brother in Ireland– Deaton and that clumsy dude… Stiles, they helped her with everything. They spent all night translating this book with a girl called... Lyria? Lyra? I can’t--" he clicked his fingers repeatedly as though that would magically bring the name back to him.

"Lydia," Derek stated.

Jonah clicked his fingers once more before continuing, "Yeah, her! Anyway. Family meeting in five. Chop-chop. Before Maggie sends Esme after me… And I don't want that."

Jonah sprinted for the house and you were left a little winded by everything.

Derek placed his hand on the small of your back to urge you forward and you shuddered beneath his simple touch and he snatched his hand away as if your skin had electrocuted him.

Things just got complicated.

 To be continued...

Next Chapter>>

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#teen wolf #derek hale #derek hale x reader #derek hale imagine #teen wolf imagines #derek x you #derek x reader #I'm juggling too many characters #help #original characters galore #we finally meet the family #and adorable lil Jonah

[myloveandlifeinlajolla]

I’m really bored so here you guys go!

1. selfie

I never do selfies sorry not sorry.  I don’t do them for a number of reasons.  Some of the reasons I hope are kinda obvious.  I have covered this before and it comes down to the fact that the relationship I am in can lead to trouble for my dad, my sisters, and myself.

2. what would you name your future kids?

I would love to keep the family tradition and either use Gaelic or old french names.

3. do you miss anyone?

Oh man I miss having alot of acquaintances.  I was very popular in high-school for alot of reasons; most not too good.  I miss my sorority sisters.  As you get older you find out everyone grows up at different rates.  I have friends that still party like they’re 21 and I have friends that just graduated and are married, 2nd child and are like mini-van mom life!  I miss always having the option to choose whom I wanted to be like that day.

I miss my sisters sometimes.  I have always seen myself as my sisters’ mom. They are on the other side of the country and they live together so I miss them.  They are getting so close and I miss being part of the stories, the inside jokes etc... it’s sometimes a little hard to be left out.  THEN, they come home and I end up being a driver, cook, maid, and I’m like okay it’s time for you to fly out...NOW! 

4. what are you looking forward to?

I’m at a point in my life where i’m content.  I’m looking forward to creating the house into a home.  I like decorating it.  I’m looking forward to getting the house covered in flowers.  I’m looking forward to working out.  I’m really looking forward to getting my body back.  

5. is there anyone who can always make you smile?

Without a doubt it’s Catie!  I love you missy.

6. is it hard for you to get over someone?

Interesting question and I guess I have a very interesting take on it.  I loved my dad forever but there was a time during counseling where we were working on re-aligning the relationship to be more inline with a traditional father/daughter role so we were engaged in alot of behavior modification for me.  It was really hard (and made me really depressed, and self destructive and failed) but or psych was still having me see my “crush” every day but I couldn’t do any of the things that my mom did and I was only supposed to do “age-appropriate” activities.  But the thing was I loved my mom and I loved doing the things she did.  So, life was just hard. Trying to pretend like feelings for someone don’t exist is a miserable experience.  

7. what was your life like last year?

Life has been interesting,  My dad and I are now living as a couple at the house so there were/are real growing pains associated with that.  it’s no longer just his room and my room and we don’t have to sneak around the house.  That stuff is amazing and I love that.  I miss my sisters.  I miss all my acquaintances.  Catie’s husband got transferred out of Coronado and they are moving to the Virginia. My dad’s grandfather died.  Still have no clue where my aunt is.  This is the longest that has happened.  My middle sister quit softball, my youngest sister is like a full woman and it’s scary.

8. have you ever cried because you were so annoyed?

I have cried for just about every reason under the sun.  

9. who did you last see in person?

Dad as he left this morning

10. are you good at hiding your feelings?

I am not good at it at all.  Mad, you’ll know, annoyed you’ll know. Sad, you will probably see drinking wine.

11. are you listening to music right now?

Nope, YouTube is on 

12. what is something you want right now?

Honestly I feel like sex, anal and giving a blowjob

13. how do you feel right now?

Mildly horny and procrastinating writing up three proposals

14. when was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you?

This morning, I’m a lucky girl!

15. personality description

According to my plum profile I am a marvelous manager, chief communicator, and a decision maker.

16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t?

That’s why I have Tumblr. I can tell everyone and it’s really cathartic.

17. opinion on insecurities

We all have them.  Own them but don’t let them run and ruin your life.

18. do you miss how thing were a year ago?

A little.  Everything seemed just a little bit easier.  

19. have you ever been to New York?

Oh my god yes I love it there!

20. what is your favorite song at the moment?

Memories by Maroon 5, Rebel Girl and  Kiss and Tell by Angels and Airwaves

21. age and birthday? 23 now, July 31st, 

22. description of crush.

Dad was about 6′4 225 he’s about 6′1″/2″ now I think he’s still around 230

23. fear(s)

I never talk about my fears.

24. height

I’m 5′9″

25. role model

It’s cheesy but my dad.

26. idol(s)

I don’t really have any

27. things i hate

I hate shitty people.  I hate mean and manipulative people.  There are nice to your face and shitty behind you.  If you don’t like me just be honest.  We can be polite we don’t have to be friends.

28. i’ll love you if…

I don’t like being cold so if you keep me warm that’s one way.  I like shopping so if you like to go shopping with me that’s a good way.  I love having good coffee and also tea.

29. favorite film(s)

Phantom of the Opera, Sleeping Beauty, Diamonds are a girls best friends, breakfast at Tiffany’s stuff like that.

30. favourite tv show(s)

West wing, how I met your mother, friends, sex and the city, the big bang theory, the office, scrubs.

31. 3 random facts

I was a triple jumper, I have so many bikini pieces I rarely ever wear matching parts, I suck at swimming and look like a dog swimming.

32. are your friends mainly girls or guys?

I have a ton of girl friends

33. something you want to learn

I want to learn programming

34. most embarrassing moment

The moment I hooked up with Catie’s crush in high-school and she was about to let everyone at the party know my “daddy issues” were alot more than that.  yeah that sucked.  But he was a giant dickhead so I guess it worked out.  

35. favorite subject 

Biology

36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill?

DREAMS... get married, have children, not be in a secret relationship

37. favorite actor/actress

Reese Witherspoon, and Audrey Hepburn

38. favorite comedian(s)

Ralphie May, Norm McDonald, Jimmy Fallon, 

39. favorite sport(s)

Track and Field, Sailing, Rowing, Dressage, and Surfing I was only okay at Track and Field

40. favorite memory

My prom night

41. relationship status

Taken, and like noone knows,..Sad face

42. favorite book(s)

An honorable Profession, the Great Gatsby, 

43. favorite song ever 

Still gives me chills,  Chi ll bel sogno di Doretta but you really have to be in the mood, 

LA MUSICA NOTTURNA DELLE STRADE DI MADRID. No. 6, Op.30

Pachelbel - Canon in d

More popular stuff is mashups

44. age you get mistaken for

18-20 I have a baby face

45. how you found out about your idol

I just want to be the best me I can be. no Idols.  

46. what my last text message says

To a coworker, “How’s it going?”

47. turn ons

Be nice and kind (especially to a poor/homeless)

Dapper not stylish but classic

Salt and pepper hair

In shape and clean!!!!

48. turn offs

Dirtiness, disheveld, rude, loud and crude.

49. where i want to be right now

I want to be in Manhattan looking out the window onto a city of snow, with dad

50. favorite picture of your idol

nope 51. starsign

I’m a zodiac but none of that means anything.  

52. something i’m talented at

blowjobs! No really I love them.  Also I’m great at meticulous lab work and business strategy.

53. 5 things that make me happy

1. 99% of the time Dad. 2. Being snooty and posh.  I love the opera, symphony, I love getting dressed up, and the whole ritual of it all. 3. coffee and cold misty beach air while im in a warm sweater out by the pool looking at the ocean.  4. shopping, 5. recognized for good work at work.

54. something thats worrying me at the moment

family and I really need to let things go.

55. tumblr friends

Yep got them but I don’t know if they want me to out them here. So you guys get to stay hidden!

56. favorite food(s)

Braised lamb shank is good

57. favorite animal(s)

I love big wrinkly dogs that slobber (WILL NEVER GET THEM) I can’t imagine trying to keep a clean house with fur and slobber!

58. description of my best friend.

What more can I say about Catie, she knows everything and has been my rock since I was 11!  She even planned prom for me which was why I am where I am really.  I mean It helped get us here alot faster.  She is my bestie.

59. why i joined tumblr

This iteration of tumblr has been to talk about what it’s like to be in a real relationship with my biological father NOT some cheesy porno or erotic story.  I try to talk about the real relationship struggles we have.  Answer questions etc... But I guess I am kinda boring because no one asks anymore.  

60. ask me anything you want

#myloveandlifeinlajolla #myloveandlifeinlj #ask me anything #ask game #send me asks

[theabominableblogger]

My Reaction to “Birds of Prey“

*in best Roman Sionis impression*  WHOOO!

Figured I might as well FINALLY watch it.  On with the show!

*silently jams to the opening logos*

This animated intro is great.

*snorts at the little animation of how an egg gets fertilized*

Why is this animated Joker a different (and actually better) character design than what we got in Suicide Squad?  Were we robbed of Letoker in full Joker suited glory?  I think we were.

“Behind every successful man is a badass broad.”  *points at screen in agreement*

I love Harley’s freaking rainbow apartment

The hyena!

This movie has the same amount of color saturation as “Pulp Fiction”

Freaking Bernie the Beaver is holding her tissues!  We stan supportive friends!

*gasp* Cass!

This guy [Roman’s driver] looks an awful lot like Jon Hamm and that is never gonna go away

“It’s not a party without a little drama!”  I love Ewan McGregor

*snorts in hilarity when Harley turns to address the audience about how much she doesn’t like Roman in front of Roman*

“Do give the Joker my [Roman] best.”  Uhhh....

*jams the crap out to “Boss Bitch” by Doja Cat*

*laughs at Harley drunkenly giving relationship advice to a female bust in the club*

“Some people have the Eiffel Tower.  Or Olive Garden.”  Can we please hear the stories about Gotham’s Olive Garden?

Oh that shot [of Harley walking away from the Ace Chemicals explosion] is great

[Four Minutes Ago]  *snorts in hilarity*

So far I actually really like Rosie Perez as Montoya.

Huntress!

*Huntress kills the mob people in the flashback*  That was awesome.  And the way Montoya steps back and forth to investigate the body is great.

“Harley Quinn just called open season on herself.”  And oop.

God, seeing Ewan as Black Mask is really gonna throw me off but man this is gonna be a great performance.

*jaw drops in horror when Zsasz removes someone’s FACE*

JESUS CHRIST HOLY SHIT RATED “R” HUH?!?

“Is that a snot bubble?”  Shit!

OHHHHH THAT SHOT OF ROMAN WITH THE MASK ON!!!  AAAAAAHHHH!!

The SATURATION IN THIS MOVIE

Also the soundtrack and aesthetic in this movie is very... “Suicide Squad”-esque

Man that sandwich looks good

*jaw drops when Harley accidentally throws her sandwich into the road*

Also they de-saturated everything again hahaha

Oh my gosh that guy [”Happy”] is HUGE

[GRIEVANCE:  COSMETIC VANDALISM]  Yeah, that sounds about right

“Par-ley??”  *snorts*

Her [Montoya’s] shirt....

Also why is she wearing that shirt at work?

This movie is giving me huge Tarantino vibes

Why does the actor that plays Montoya’s boss looks familiar?

Oh!  He’s Rufus in “Supernatural.”  Bobby’s kinda buddy!

“Ms. Montoya, we do have a dress code.”  There we go.

They are really just going back and forth in the timeline to cover everything, aren’t they?

Harley’s using nonlethal rounds?

The action set pieces in this movie so far are awesome.

*says “Run, piggy, run!” along with Harley*

Of course Dinah is singing “This Is A Man’s World”

Also I’ve seen like a 20 second Twitter compilation of Roman saying the f-bomb and it’s glorious

“We could make our own family.”  Oh snap.

WAIT THAT’S THE GUY WHOSE FACE ZSASZ REMOVED!

Does... Roman... like Dinah?  Like... that?  Or is this manipulation?

*chuckles when drunk Harley slides up next to Dinah at the bar*

*gets very uncomfortable at a guy trying to take advantage of a drunk Harley*

C’mon Dinah...

What’s the song playing here [when Dinah’s beating up the guys in the alley]?

Uh whatcha doing in the corner there, Zsasz?

“Oh sooongbirrddd?”  Noo...

Did I just see a street sign that said “ANUS”?

So is Cass faking a broken wrist or does she actually have a broken wrist?

So far my favorite characters are Montoya and Dinah.  Not gonna lie.

*has to muffle laughter when Roman does the mmkay hand sign* 

“I mean, I like crossbows!”  *giggles*

Holy shit, Zsasz is jealous of Dinah.

“Look at his little ears, the little haircut...”  *insane giggling*

ZSASZ IS DYING IN THE BACK I LOVE THIS SONG

Dinah is clearly rethinking some life decisions while looking at that statue of Roman

*jams out to “Sway with Me” by GALAXRA*

*Cass robs Zsasz of the diamond*  WHOOP!

*winces when Roman does acupuncture*

“SHE’s a chILDDD!!”  *laughs*

ZSASZ

Ho shit that shot of Roman on top of the stairs looking down at Harley

“VOTED FOR BERNIE” HAHAHA

*Harley completely derails Roman’s villain monologue*  THIS IS AMAZING

HE [Roman] GOT A BOWL OF POPCORN

*Zsasz licks Harley’s cheek*  EEUUUGGGHHH!!

Did that goon just pull a tampon out of Harley’s pocket?

I’M SORRY CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE PICTURE OF NUDE ELEANOR ROOSEVELT?

*gasps when Roman backhands Harley across the face*

OH HERE WE GO

HOLY SHIT THIS IS GREAT

ROMAN IN THE STRIPED SUIT

THE CHOREOGRAPHY

WHY WAS IT SO SHORT I LOVED IT

Where is this cover at on the official soundtrack?!?

“I’ll give you ‘til midnight.”  Hold on, hold on, what’s the timeline for this movie?

Harley’s just booking it in the background

Aaaand we’re back at the beginning!

Aaand there’s Harley!

Wait there’s about an hour left and we just now got to Harley meeting Cass?

CONFETTIIIII!!

Is she just using paint bombs on all the guards?

Harley, trying to enter the cells:  I AM PRESSING.  EVERY BUTTON.  I CAN FIND.

Why would they put Cass in the cell block with all the adults?

OH HALSEY!  COME THROUGH!

*Harley slides across the floor to knock a guy down*  OHHHH!!!

Daniel Pemberton’s orchestral score for this movie is reminding me an awful lot of “Into the Spiderverse”

Is that Katana’s sword?!?  How the hell did it get there?!?

WAIT SHE’S GONNA HUFF THE COCAINE?!?

Jesus, now THIS is Harley’s fighting style!  Holy crap!

*gasps when Harley gets kicked back and knocks off a car door off its hinges*

*jaw drops*  SHE JUST SET THAT DUDE’S BEARD ON FIRE

How does everyone seem to know where Harley is?

*Smash cut to Harley buying laxative for Dinah in the store*  Hahahahahaha!

“I do not care that you’re [Cass] a kid.”  Yeah, Harley, didn’t you uh... assist in the murder of Jason Todd in this universe?  Hmmm???

Wait so how long ago have Harley and the Joker been together?

Doc calls Harley “lotus flower”!

Those are the nuns from the school in the beginning!

She is actually... talking to the beaver

“[Joker] Sounds like a dick.”  I mean, yeah.

Also I just realized that Harley drew an actual dick in the Joker drawing’s mouth

HUNTRESS!

OH NOW WE’RE GETTING INTRODUCED TO HELENA!

*eyes widen in shock at the Bertenelli massacre*

*chuckles at the smash cut to Helena practicing in the mirror*

*Roman sees someone laughing in the club*  Oh no.

“Get on the table.”  Uh.

Oh no what is he doing?

“DANCE, ERICA!”  Ohh.  Shit.

“Take your dress off.”  *jaw drops in horror*

God, I cannot watch this.  Holy-

*has to avert eyes*

*Roman stops Dinah from leaving*  NO.

“You soothe me, little bird.”  AHHHHHHHHHHHHH-

OK, I can take a breather now.  Ohhhh my God...

They’re [Harley and Cass] really just having a girl’s night

BRUCE, NOOOOO!!!

“No one knew we were here except-”  DOC SOLD THEM OUT!

“This next bit ain’t very pretty.”  Oh boy.

“I [Roman] own this town.  You have my protection.”  Mmmmm... no?

Whoa this super dramatic cover of “Hit Me with Your Best Shot”

OH HE’S [Zsasz] GONNA SEE THE TEXT SHE [Dinah] SENT [to Montoya]!

*Roman starts to break down*  Oh.  Shit.

OH THIS MUSIC

*Roman puts the mask on*  OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

OH THIS IS GREAT

Also of course Joker and Harley had a hideout in Amusement Mile

*winces when Montoya punches Harley right in the boob*

*Harley kicks Montoya out the window*  Oh she dead

*gasps*  Zsasz!

Man that sideways shot of him is terrifying!

OH FRICK NO

JESUS I DON’T LIKE THIS

So is it implied that Zsasz only kills women or what?  I thought he was an equal opportunity killer?

“That’s why he [Roman] needs me [Zsasz] to look after him.”  Dude.

...did they just kill Zsasz?

Everyone except Harley is pointing guns at each other and all I’m thinking of is that scene from “The Office”

*snorts in hilarity for Harley clapping for Helena completing her kill list*

Oh Roman just brought a whole freaking army

OHHHH HE’S GOT THE MASK

Oh this music *chef’s kiss*

Oh my God is Roman gonna find Zsasz’s body?

Oh that crane shot out of the lair and back outside?  That’s some good shit.  Cathy Yan, I see you.

“I [Helena] DON’T HAVE RAGE ISSUES!”  DINAH’S FACE!

*Helena pounces on a goon in the slide down and kills him*  Geez that’s awesome

This whole set is great

*Helena gives Cass her old toy truck*  THIS MAKES ME SAD

Yeah when did Harley have time to put on her skates?

Some dude just gets shanked then leaps back up

That fight scene just went by real quick

*gasps when Roman shoots Montoya*

*jaw drops when Dinah does the Canary Cry*

*Harley gets sideswiped by one of Roman’s goons*  Yeah no there’s like half a rib cage gone

*Harley works on overtaking one of Roman’s goons’ car*  CRAZY TOWN BEEP BEEP!

*Harley backflips onto the top of Roman’s car*  OHHHH!

Founders Pier... geez that looks great

Wait are those all Roman’s goons just lining the dock or are those just statues?

Oh they’re all statues.  That’s creepy.

“exCUUSEE me?!?”  *snorts in hilarity*

*jaw drops when Cass tucks a grenade in Roman’s coat and activates it*

*still shocked when he FREAKING EXPLODES*

I’M SORRY THEY JUST KILLED OFF BLACK MASK

*Cass finally goes to the bathroom*  Finally!

“Does she always [Montoya] talk like the cop in a bad 80s movie?”  *laughs*

Guys Helena is great

*laughs when Helena laughs at the fact that Harley stole Dinah’s car*

“They call themselves the Birds of Prey.”  Yay!  Lemme see them again!

Harley’s jacket has a bedazzled vagina on the back of it

Look at Cass with her jacket and sunglasses!

“Yeah, I made the kid my apprentice.”  Yeah, that’s not gonna last long.

#the blogger reacts #dceu #birds of prey #harley quinn #ewan mcgregor #black mask #roman sionis #dinah lance #black canary #huntress #helena bertinelli #cassandra cain #renee montoya #victor zsasz #joker #daniel pemberton #bop #rosie perez

[dangersgood]

A/N: This story is really just a plethora of fluff and cute moments. Chenry and a little bit of Jenry. (Fair warning, it’s kinda long.) Thanks for reading!

"Just let me finish-"

"It's MY straightener—"

"YOU DON'T EVEN USE IT! YOU DON'T STRAIGHTEN YOUR HAIR, WHY DO YOU NEED—"

"I DON'T USE IT BECAUSE YOU STOLE IT MONTHS AGO AND IM JUST NOW FIGURING OUT WHERE ITS BEEN—"

"JUST BACK UP CHAR, JUST—"

"YOU DON'T EVEN NEED IT YOUR HAIRS ALREADY STRAIGHT, LITERALLY WHAT ARE YOU DOING-"

"GUYS?!"

It was Jasper's panic-stricken voice that made Henry and Charlotte finally stop screaming at one another. They stood there in their awkward poses for a few seconds—Henry's long arm stretching over his head as he held up the hair straightener so Charlotte couldn't reach it, Charlotte's knee propped on the bathroom counter as she was about to climb onto it to gain some height and rip her straightener out of her annoying best friend's hand, her arms outstretched and awkwardly tangled between Henry's other arm and the leg he'd held up to keep some distance between them, his entire body leaning away from her until he looked like the letter 'r'. "Yes?" They asked him calmly.

"I was using it first!" He yelled, pointing toward his head. Half his hair was curly and half was straight. He'd been in the middle of doing his hair when Henry ran in to tell him he needed to use the straightener to fix the ends of his hair real quick, but when Charlotte had walked in in hopes of finding her diamond earrings, she'd snatched the thing out of Henry's hand and stared at it in awe. She hadn't seen her straightener since last October! When had she taken it to Henry's house?!

"All I needed to do was straighten my tips—"

"All you need to do is give me back MY straightener!" Charlotte huffed. As Henry relaxed his body, she snatched it out of his hand and shoved it in Jasper's direction, causing him to shriek and jump back. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You finish up while Henry and I look for my earrings." She ordered.

"But I don't want to look for your earrings." Henry pouted. She sent him a dirty look and yanked him out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. "You check under your bed, I'll check in your closet."

"Why would they be under my bed?" He questioned, sending her a puzzled look. She rolled her eyes. "They could've been kicked under there if I dropped them while I was carrying all my stuff in."

He nodded in agreement. That made much more sense than what he'd originally thought. He just assumed that she'd been hiding under his bed without him knowing for some reason.

He grunted as he slid to the floor, his body disagreeing completely with his movements. He was sore and stiff from the fight he'd had with some crazy ass villain last night. What was his name? Barge? That guy was massive.

He was already exhausted and prom wasn't for another hour and a half.

"Those stupid earrings are the only earrings that I brought, and I can't show up to prom earring less! That's just not right! And they go perfectly with my shoes, they literally tie the outfit together. And they were expensive! If I can't find them my mom is gonna kill me! But more importantly, if I can't find them then that means I can't go to prom. My look relies on those stupid ear accessories! They match the little diamonds in my dress, the diamonds in my hair, the diamonds on my shoes—what's my mom gonna say about me losing her fancy earrings when I promised I'd be responsible and—"

Henry had found the earrings almost as soon as he'd laid down to look for them, but Charlotte rarely lost her cool like this and he found it a little amusing that she was going crazy over a pair of earrings that she was sure she'd never see again despite the fact that he was holding them in the palm of his hand as she spoke. Plus, now that he was looking under his bed, he noticed that a lot of the stuff he'd been looking for for months was right under him the whole time. The other halves of quite a few pairs of his socks, the remote control he'd had to replace because he was sure he'd thrown it away accidentally, about six pairs of headphones, even a jar of Nutella that had probably been under there since a few years ago when he thought he was fired from being kid danger...He wondered if there was any way it was still some good.

"—My mom told me that my great aunt went to her prom without earrings once and she was never the same again. She wasn't crowned prom queen which sent her life spiraling. It was all downhill from there, and long story short, she's on death row now...Of course, my mom didn't exactly say that all that was because of her lack of earrings, but I'm smart enough to be able to draw my own conclusions. I mean, why else would she shank that man that had in the earrings that looked vaguely like the ones she'd planned to wear to prom?" Charlotte paused her frantic movements—she'd been throwing all of Henry's things around the whole time she'd been talking—and stared off into space for a moment. She shivered after a second and got back to throwing things around. "I really don't wanna have to shank someone because of earrings."

Henry knew he'd probably be on the receiving end of whatever abuse Charlotte was gonna be giving out over her earrings, so he decided now was the time to announce that he'd found them. He stood up with a loud groan and popped his back before turning toward her. "I found your lobe rings." He announced before looking at the mess she made. "Charlotte, what are you doing?! You're destroying my closet!"

"You found them?! You found the rings for my lobes?!" She screamed happily, running toward him. He shoved the earrings in her general direction and away from him in fear of getting tackled. Once she'd snatched them out of his hands, he walked toward his messy closet. It wasn't that bad to be honest, and maybe it even looked better than before because he wasn't too keen on keeping it clean, but he knew an opportunity when he saw one. "You're gonna have to reorganize my entire closet, you know?"

Charlotte wasn't stupid even when she was distracted by the beauty of her dazzling earrings, but she agreed, only because she'd been wanting to do something about his ridiculously messy closet for a long time now.

***

Everyone looked stunning. Jasper had on a white suit and tie with a gold undershirt and gold shoes. It was a bold choice, but both Henry and Charlotte were shocked at how nice he actually looked. He'd even done his makeup, despite the fact that he refused to admit that to them even though they told him there was nothing wrong with a dude wanting to dress his face up. He'd made sure to do his eyebrows perfectly and added a subtle pink lipstick to his lips.

Henry was wearing a black suit with golden flowers all over it. He'd promised Jasper that they'd match in some way or another, and he really liked this suit anyway so why not?

Charlotte, as Henry had said many times in the last three minutes, looked like some sort of goddess. She had somehow managed to put little diamonds throughout her curly hair—something that both Jasper and Henry thought was majestic as hell. They couldn't understand how she could've possibly managed to make them stay in there. They thought it must've been witchcraft—and her dress was bright red, clung to every curve, and went all the way down to her feet. There was a slit in the left thigh that allowed her to show off her fishnet stockings which also had diamonds in them. Her shoes really did match her earrings, they were completely diamond too. Her necklace and bracelet tied the outfit together perfectly, along with her beautiful makeup. Red lipstick and gold eyeshadow with the perfect highlighter.

Henry was in awe. She looked magical. She looked like a literal, actual princess. Sure, she always looked good, but he'd never seen her looking this good. "We look good." He grinned after he was finally able to pull his eyes away from Charlotte.

"We better get going before we're too late to be fashionable!" Jasper exclaimed as he looked at the time on his phone. They were supposed to be thirty minutes late, not forty! And if they didn't get moving soon, they would be! Charlotte rolled her eyes at him and let out a small laugh which drew Henry's attention right back to her.

When had his best friend started looking so...good?

"You should probably go see how Piper is coming along." Charlotte blushed as she noticed him staring again. Henry nodded, but he didn't move.

Jasper watched as his two best friends had a short staring contest, both of them letting out awkward laughs every now and then but never attempting to move or break eye contact. It was as if they were both in a trance that was only broken when Jasper waved his hand between their faces. "Henry?" He questioned.

"Right, Piper!" He cleared his throat and stumbled away from them and toward the stairs. He needed to go to Piper's room and see what was taking her so long. She had been the first of them to start getting ready, she should've definitely been done by now.

It was only when he was at the very top of the stairs and turning the corner that he stopped looking at Charlotte. Cause she was no longer in sight and he literally couldn't.

He speed walked down the hallway and knocked impatiently on Piper's door, now suddenly in a hurry to get back downstairs. Charlotte was probably doing something cute right this second and he was missing it because he had to talk to his sister!

"Come in!" She screamed. He opened the door quickly and practically ran in, only to see her taking off her jewelry. He scrunched up his face, confused, and held out his hands, silently asking her what the hell she was doing.

"I'm not going to prom."

Well, if she'd said that a few years ago it would've made more sense and it would've actually been true. Piper wasn't even old enough to go to their school dance, yet she'd been going to it since she was in fourth grade. Her school didn't have dances and she needed an excuse to wear fancy dresses at least once a year! So, she'd been insisting on going since she was younger and since the principal was practically scared of her, he allowed her and a few of her friends to come as long as they all agreed not to drink the punch.

"What do—what do—what do you mean you're not going to prom?" He exclaimed in confusion. She rolled her eyes and kicked her shoes off. "I'm still gonna drop you guys off, I'm just not going in myself."

"Why not? You love prom. You've been talking about it for months. 'Oh I can't wait to dance with Jack!' 'Oh Jack is gonna love my dress!' 'Jack is gonna look so great!' 'Jack Jack Jack Jack Jack!' What happened to that?" Henry questioned dumbly. She shrugged her shoulders and let out a small sigh. "There is no more Jack. He decided he didn't want to go to prom anymore. I mean—with me. He's going with Jana—"

"Don't you dare say Tetrazini!"

She nodded. "Jana Tetrazini."

"Ough!" He shook his head and punched the air in frustration. "That little jizzbag! Why's he going with her?"

"Because she asked him?" Piper looked at Henry as if he was dumb and then plopped onto her bed "He was excited to go with me all the way up until two hours ago when Jana apparently called him and told him that her date, Bobby Butouski, got sent to the hospital because of an allergic reaction to mint flavored gum and wouldn't be able to make it to prom. So, she asked Jack to take her and he agreed."

"Why would he do that when he knew he already had plans to go with you?"

"Because Jana's better than me." Piper rolled her eyes and grabbed a large pillow to hug as she slid toward the wall her bed was up against. "Whatever she wants, she gets, and she wanted my man." She grabbed the remote that controlled her stereo, pressed a few buttons, and within a few moments 'Mr. Lonely' by Bobby Vinson was blasting throughout the room. "Leave me." She whispered dramatically before leaning over to grab some shades and the Icarly toy remote she'd purchased a few years back. She pressed the 'boo' button over and over until Henry walked over and snatched it out of her hand. He pulled her shades off, turned the music off, and snatched the pillow away from her, much to her dismay, and then sat next to her.

"Piper, look, what Jack did was wrong. He's a real asshole if you ask me—" she sent him a look. She'd cursed a few times before and he'd scolded her for it, yet he was allowed to say whatever he wanted? "—but that doesn't mean your whole night has to be ruined. You invited half your grade to our prom," he rolled his eyes. "You're telling me you wouldn't be able to find another guy to hang out with?"

"I don't want to," she shook her head. "I don't wanna show up. Do you know how humiliating it's gonna be having to watch Jack and Jana together along with the rest of my grade, who all know that me and him are supposed to be each other's dates? Everyone's gonna laugh at me and I can't threaten everyone."

"You won't have to! Charlotte, Jasper and I will watch out for you."

"You don't wanna spend your whole prom night dealing with me and my drama."

No, he certainly didn't, but he was almost sure that it wouldn't be as bad as Piper thought it'd be. She'd get there and be shy for a few minutes and then she'd started talking to her friends and she'd see that they weren't judging her and everything would be fine. Probably.

"It'll be fine." He assured her. "You put your jewelry back on and meet me downstairs in five minutes. You're going to prom, and you're gonna enjoy it!"

With one last sigh, Piper finally nodded and got up. Henry grinned and walked out of her room, closing the door behind him and then nearly ran down the stairs.

"She'll be out in a few. She's having boy troubles."

"Boy troubles?" Charlotte raised a perfectly arched brow and Henry sent her a goofy smile. Boy, she sure was attractive. "Yeah, Jack is now the date of Jana-"

"Don't you dare say Tetrazini!" Jasper warned Henry. Henry nodded. "Tetrazini."

"Ugh!" Charlotte and Jasper groaned at the same time. "That girl is such a witch!" Charlotte shook her head.

"She came into junk n stuff once and spit her lollipop pieces in my favorite bucket!" Jasper exclaimed. Henry and Charlotte both side eyed him but said nothing.

"I'm ready!" Piper came down the stairs with no pep in her step. She looked great, though! Her dress was a white two-piece with lots of lace on it, the skirt long and dragging behind her. Her hair was in a curly updo. Her makeup was simple and subtle but really brought out her features, and she too was wearing a couple pieces of diamond jewelry.

"Wow, you look great!" Charlotte encouraged.

"You clean up nice, pipes."

"You look good, baby sis."

"Thanks," Piper sent them all a small smile. "Let's get this show on the road!"

***

They showed up to prom thirty-five minutes late and Jasper figured he could deal with that. The first thing he did when they stepped into the building was head toward the food table, and Charlotte followed close behind. At first, it was with intentions of keeping him from spilling anything on his white suit, but the moment she saw the nachos that was canceled. She didn't have time to care about Jasper or his suit when there were cheesy nachos with various toppings staring her right in the face. She quickly slapped away the hand of some guy who'd been trying to grab a nacho from the big bowl. "Wait your turn!"

Henry walked Piper toward the area where her friends were, his hand resting on her shoulder and guiding her along despite the fact that she didn't wanna face them. "Now listen, if anyone gives you any trouble, just text me and I'll come find you. I don't think you have much to worry about, though, because it's not like—"

Before he could finish talking, Piper was falling forward. Someone had bumped into her nearly hard enough to knock her down. Henry quickly caught her and made sure she was okay, and by the time he'd done that, Jana was standing in front of them with one hand on her hip and the other hand holding Jack's. "Sorry, didn't see you there, you kinda blend in with the room." She giggled. "The walls and floor are white, but they aren't human shaped so you're lying!" Henry exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at her. Jana giggled and Piper squeezed her eyes shut before patting her brother on the shoulder. "Thanks, Hen." She sighed.

"You're welcome." He nodded, feeling accomplished.

"So ugh...Where's your date?" Jana questioned. By now, a small crowd had formed around them, so Piper didn't wanna say that Jana had stolen her date out loud so that anyone who didn't already know could. Besides, Jana already knew that. Piper glanced at Jack who looked apologetic as he stared back at her, but that look was quickly replaced with a large smile when Jana tugged on his hand and made him look at her.

"You stole him you...you date thief!" Henry announced. Piper growled in frustration and threw her hands up in the air. Earlier when he'd talked to her he'd actually succeeded in making her feel better, and he even made her think that things would be okay and that he'd help, but now she regretted showing up and believing that her brother could make anything about this situation any better.

Luckily, Charlotte and Jasper had grabbed all the food they wanted and came to stand by Henry and Piper.

"Oh, so you couldn't find another one?" Jana questioned, tilting her head in mock confusement. "Gee Piper, if I'd known that nobody besides Jack actually wanted to be your date, I wouldn't have taken him from you." She smirked.

Piper narrowed her eyes at her and then turned to look at Jack again. He was still too busy drooling at Jana to actually say anything.

"Piper doesn't need a date to have fun." Charlotte jumped in as soon as she'd chewed her nachos up. "She's happy enough with herself to be able to function properly when she's alone. She doesn't need a guy to be by her side just to have a good time, and that's a great quality to have, because guess what? When no guy wants to be around you anymore, you're gonna wish you were able to live with yourself, singular, not plural!" Charlotte stepped closer and closer until she was towering over Jana by the time she was finished. Jana took a few steps back, looking uncomfortable and maybe even a little scared. Henry took a few steps back too, only because he was shocked. His face scrunched up as he looked all around, trying to see if anyone else had just witnessed what he had. Charlotte had never been sexier to him. When had she gotten so badass? Seriously!

"Charlotte's right! Piper doesn't need a guy to have fun!" That was Jasper's only contribution to the conversation before he was digging back into his own nachos and shoving another finger sandwich in his mouth.

"Gee, Piper, are you just gonna stand there and let everyone talk for you the whole night? Must've lost your voice at the same time as you lost your man." Jana and a few other girls giggled and Piper rolled her eyes.

"There's no hard feelings, Jana." She shook her head.

"There's not?"

"I have a few hard feelings, myself."

"I wouldn't say that."

Piper glared at Henry and his friends and they got quiet again. She turned back to face Jana again and smiled at her. "I think it's really nice of you to put everything Jack said about you behind you so you guys could come and enjoy prom together tonight."

"What are you talking about?" Jana questioned, eyeing Jack. Jack shook his head at Piper as discreetly as he could, but Piper kept talking. "Yeah, I mean, if someone had talked to all their friends about my weird stench I would not have taken them to prom." She laughed. "And, oh my gosh! The fact that you forgave him for being the reason you lost more than thirty of your followers on TwitFlash—" "WHAT?"

"Yeah! He's so funny—he literally got the whole dance team to unfollow you because he told them that you'd been talking about how their routines were terrible and you could do better in your sleep!"

"Oh yeah...I forgot all about that." One of the girls who'd been laughing with Jana earlier turned to glare at her.

"Plus, remember that video of you falling into the Swellview Well that was going around online? He begged his friend to send that to him and then posted it!"

Jana had almost forgotten about falling into that stupid well, and so had everyone else, but now that Piper had mentioned it they were all laughing at her expense once again. Jana's cheeks turned red as she snatched her hand away from Jack and stomped her foot.

"Gee Jana," Piper mocked, laughing as she watched Jana pout,"Yeah, there's no hard feelings! I just think it's really nice that you can be so forgiving! Enjoy your night."

Piper quietly thanked her brother and his friends and told them she'd be alright by herself and then walked toward a large group of her friends who immediately began talking about Jana's nasty fall again. Jana stomped off in the opposite direction with Jack chasing after her and frantically apologizing.

"Glad I was able to help her fix that." Henry grinned. Charlotte rolled her eyes and Jasper groaned as he ate his last bit of food. "The nights only getting started and it's already awesome!"

***

Henry was beginning to sweat because of all the dancing he'd been doing. The DJ was playing random music. It went from 'Imagine' by Ariana Grande to 'Almost Love' by Sabrina Carpenter to an older song called 'Moonshine' by Bruno Mars. He changed dance partners every song, mingling with some of his fellow classmates that he didn't talk to all that much. He was having a great time, but he kept scanning the large crowd for Charlotte and he was disappointed every time he failed to locate her. He didn't see her anywhere and he was beginning to get worried. He hadn't seen her in at least thirty minutes, and it wasn't like it was the largest building in the world. She wasn't by the food table, she wasn't on the dance floor, and she wasn't sitting down. He'd looked plenty of times and he was sure she was nowhere to be found. The only thing that made him feel a little better was the fact that Jasper was missing too. That meant they were probably together, so at least she wasn't anywhere by herself.

That made him feel better for a short amount of time and then he felt sick. Why were they alone together on prom night?

They'd been best friends for a long time now and Henry was fairly sure that they didn't have any feelings for each other, especially because he was also fairly sure that Jasper wasn't as into girls as he wanted everyone to believe, if at all, but still you never know.

Henry was so unsettled with the thought of his friends potentially getting together, though, that he left the dance floor mid-song and decided to look around for the two of them again. This time he found Jasper in no time. He was sitting by himself at a large table, not easy to miss. A bright light was shining right on him and he stuck out like a sore thumb at that table all by himself while the ones around him were full of people.

Henry was relieved that he and Charlotte weren't together after all, then he was upset again because now Charlotte was by herself somewhere and he didn't like that. He walked up to Jasper quickly, taking a seat next to him. His intention was to figure out what Jasper knew about Charlotte's whereabouts and then speed off to find her, but once he noticed how upset Jasper looked he temporarily changed his plans.

"What's wrong, what happened?" He questioned immediately. Last time he'd seen Jasper, he'd been drinking an excessive amount of punch and talking to some guy who was wearing the weirdest yet coolest suit Henry had ever seen.

"I asked someone to dance and they said no," Jasper mumbled. "Well, actually, I asked a lot of people to dance and they said no, but I expected that." Henry's face softened at that. "I didn't mind that, though. It's just that the last person I asked...I wasn't expecting it. I thought they'd say yes for sure."

"I'm sure you'll find someone else to dance with, Jasp."

"I don't want to find anyone else to dance with! I wanted to dance with that particular gu—girl because...she...has been acting like...she...is into me for a while now. We've even become pretty good friends and I just—"

"Jasper, I think it's great that you like guys, and I wish you'd told me that instead of me having to figure it out for myself." Henry grinned as he punched Jasper's shoulder. "Of course, I'm not in any position to judge. I kept a huge secret from you for a long time too." He chuckled. His chuckle turned into a laugh as soon as he noticed Jasper's dumbfounded expression. "Figured it out ages ago, and I've just been waiting for you to tell me, but you never did..."

"I—I just thought that maybe it'd be weird or—"

"You're a really weird guy, Jasper. But your sexuality is not."

"That means a lot to me, Hen. Thank you." Jasper grinned and went for a handshake but Henry pulled him in for a hug. "It's no problem, dude. So why won't he dance with you if he likes you?"

"I asked him that and he said he did want to dance but he's too...ashamed." Jasper sighed. "He doesn't want people to see us dancing together because then they'll know that we're...you know."

"Do you feel that way too? Like you don't want people to know?"

"No. Now you know, and Charlotte definitely knows if you know because she's good at figuring stuff out, and that's all I care about. I don't care how or if other people find out."

"Well...what do you say we find where your guy is and dance? He'll see us dancing together and get jealous, or at the very least realize that no one's gonna say anything."

"I don't know, Henry, I know you came over to ask me where Charlotte is."

Henry had forgotten all about that now that they'd gotten into this conversation. "I'll find her after. We can dance for five or ten minutes and then I'll find her. She's probably not in any real danger."

"I don't know..."

"No seriously man, come dance with me."

"...really?"

"You're not just gonna sit here and look sad all night as long as I'm here, alright, so come on."

Jasper nodded and smiled at his friend. Henry grabbed his wrist and practically dragged him onto the dance floor. It took them a few minutes to find where Jasper's crush was, but once they did and they were sure he could see them, they began to dance to the pop song currently blaring through the speakers.

Henry and Jasper ended up dancing for twenty minutes, mostly acting goofy and trying to outdo each other. Henry did the backpack kid's dance and twirled around like a ballerina and Jasper...well Henry wasn't sure what Jasper was doing. He was just flinging his body around wildly and people made sure to stay out of his way so they wouldn't get hit.

When a slow song finally came on, Jasper stopped dancing and blinked at Henry. He didn't want his friend to feel awkward, but as Henry shrugged, smiled, and held his hands out playfully, those worries were washed away. Jasper was happy he had such an amazing best friend.

"I'm gonna blow your mind." Henry lifted his chin proudly as he enunciated his words. After the summer he went to flower camp, he ended up going to a courtesy camp. His etiquette and his slow dance skills were impeccable.

Unfortunately, he wasn't able to show them off to his best buddy because almost as soon as the song had started, Henry felt a tap on his shoulder. "Mind if I steal him?" It was Jasper's crush who had asked, but Henry had forgotten about that already and he was beyond ready to show off two months worth of ballroom dance lessons. "Yeah, see, I went to courtesy camp, alright? And I learned some really amazing moves that I'd like to show Jasp, so if you could just move it along—"

Henry was cut off by Jasper practically shoving him out of the way and yelling that yes, he would love to dance with the oddly dressed boy.

Jasper yelled a quick 'thank you' to Henry as Henry walked off the dance floor and bumped right into Charlotte.

"Char! I was gonna come looking for you a while ago, but then I got distracted with Jasper and—"

"Ohh I saw." She smirked. "You two are both terrible dancers you know?"

"Where were you?" He asked, ignoring her (false) statement. "You were gone for a while."

"Yeah, I had to find Piper and get her to give me her keys so I could go back to the car and grab my spare diamonds cause I felt like I really needed a few more in my hair. Then I got distracted cause when we came back in, Jana was having a dance off with some girl and ended up falling down again. Right through the floor."

"What? Are you serious?" Henry laughed. Charlotte nodded. "I told you it was gonna happen to somebody one day. They really need to get this place fixed up...Why were you looking for me? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah! Yeah, everything's great I was just ugh—Just worried about you." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he stared down at her big brown eyes.

"That's sweet, Henry." Charlotte smiled. The wheels began turning in her head as she stared at her friend. He'd been giving her heart eyes all night, excessively complimenting her and keeping close tabs on her. And actually—it hadn't just been tonight. It'd been every single time they were even remotely close to each other for the past month and a half. Charlotte was too smart to play dumb. She knew he liked her, though she had been questioning herself for thinking like that. At first, she thought maybe she was just overanalyzing things, but there was really no denying it now.

Charlotte probably should've been weirded out by the fact that her best friend seemingly had feelings for her, but she wasn't. Henry, while sometimes difficult and sometimes prone to making stupid decisions, was a pretty amazing guy. He was funny, understanding, pretty caring, and not to mention great looking.

Usually, she'd take the time to think about all the possible consequences that could come with her being anything more than friends with her best friend, but it was prom night and she didn't want to think sensibly. She wanted to let loose and have fun. She'd been doing a pretty good job of that all night and she wasn't about to stop now.

"I need a huge favor." She broke their silence and Henry nodded quickly. "Yeah, anything, Char."

"I need you to dance with me! The one thing I haven't done tonight is the main thing I came to do. Dance with a cute boy."

Henry grinned like a Cheshire Cat and practically yanked Charlotte onto the dance floor. The songs had sped up, but Henry didn't care. He was gonna show off his slow dancing skills no matter what.

"I went to Courtesy camp." He told the guy closest to him.

*** A/N: I've literally never been to a prom before because I just never wanted to go, so I hope this is kinda accurate (you know, foodwise and stuff.)

I'm so proud of this! I think it's really cute and I wrote this long ass thing because I really wanted some Henry Danger fluff. I needed a story with great Henry x Charlotte X Jasper friendship, supportive big brother Henry + supportive friends for Piper, supportive Henry of gay Jasper, Chenry ofc, and even a lil bit of (Henry and Jasper)

I think I covered all that pretty nicely! Only thing missing is ray. :(

#henry danger #henry hart #charlotte bolton #charlotte page #jasper dunlop #prom #blurb #fluff #chenry #jenry #jace norman

[alice1290]

One Piece Bingo Challenge

Prompt # 4 - Historical AU 

Note: @onepiecepiratebingo   I’ve had the hardest time with this one, and almost did not pick this ‘bingo’ line because of this prompt, but I also wanted a challenge. This isn’t my favorite of the prompts I’ve written for, but that’s okay... Anyway my historical bit is stemming from the medieval England-esque alternate universe that I kept coming back to when trying to write this scene. Hope readers enjoy! 

~~~

“This is stupid.” “You love Pops’ celebrations, yoi.” “I used to, when the one getting betrothed was you or Thatch, or anyone besides me. Who needs a wife? Not me. I’m fine.” “Pops has talked for months now how this is the best match he’s made in years. You’re going to be bringing together two powerful families.” “And forced to marry a woman I’ve never met. Fuck, Marco, I don’t even know what she looks like!” “And she doesn’t know anything about you either. Relax, Ace. Even if it turns out to be a shitty match, you know Pops won’t let you back out. He needs this to work for the Kingdom. You’re the last son.” “And if we’re a shitty match?” Marco shrugged. “Then you can avoid her all of the time like Jozu does his wife and only come around once in a while to fuck and carry on the family name. Sex is still sex, even if you don’t love her.” Ace moaned. “I don’t... it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wanted to go off on an adventure, see the world, fight in battles, not settle down with some woman I don’t know.” Before Marco could say more a heavy knock rapped on the door. “It’s time.” Ace inhaled deeply and then huffed out a breath. “Fine. Fuck. Whatever. Let’s do this. Hopefully she doesn’t look like a hag.” “I’ve heard she’s Shanks’ only daughter. He’s kept her secret for years until he could find the perfect match for her.” “I bet he’s kept her secret because she looks like a buzzard,” Thatch added, joining them as they headed for the main hall. Ace groaned, but Marco patted his shoulder. “I’ve seen Shanks’ wife, before she passed, if she looks like her mother then she’s not a buzzard.”

“It’s still a betrothal and it still sucks.” “Not if she’s hot. Then you’re a lucky little shit,” Thatch replies. “Besides, you’re not getting married tonight. That’ll come at the end of the courtship, tonight is just the first meeting. You know how these things go.” “Don’t feed me that bullshit. Pops’ idea of a courtship is a week. By the end of the week he’ll expect us to marry and by the end of the month he’ll expect her to be pregnant. Gah!” They entered the massive hall and walked to their designated places beside their father. Each member of the family dressed in their absolute best as they waited the announcement of the arrival of Shanks and his daughter. Ace knew this match was important to Pops, knew that it was his last chance to secure an important diplomatic and political relation and the only way to do it was marriage – the joining of two great families. That was Ace’s roll as his son, to be married to the other party’s daughter. He respected his father, and would listen to him, not that he had much say otherwise, but he didn’t have to like it. The servant at the door tapped his staff on the stone floor, catching the attention of the room. “Presenting, Emperor Shanks and his daughter, Ashina.” The heavy doors swung open and Ace held his breath. The Emperor was as he had pictured from descriptions others had given him. Tall, broad shouldered, his red hair was loose around his face and three scars crossed over his left eye. The embroidered cape concealed the fact that his left arm was missing, lost in a battle that had taken place many years ago when Ace was still a boy. His eyes slid to the young woman who held her father’s remaining arm and his eyes widened. “Yoi, definitely not a buzzard,” Marco whispered as he leaned over. Ashina had her father’s red hair and it fell in curls down her back. It spilled over her shoulder and brushed against her slender waist. She was not nearly as tall as her father, but she was not short. Her dress hid most of her figure, but showcased her slender curves. The neckline dipped low enough for Ace to glimpse the swell of her breasts. They stopped in front of Pops and Ashina glanced to Ace, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were bright, a deep shade of emerald green, and unafraid as she held his gaze. He gave her a smirk of his own and she let her eyes drop to the floor. The green orbs flicked back to his seconds later, the smile still playing on her lips. Well, Ace thought, as Pops began the introductions, the whole idea of a betrothal just got a lot better.

#one piece bingo #Portgas D. Ace #ace #thatch #marco #marco the phoenix #whitebeard #shanks #original character #fanfiction #au

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 09 second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Blather)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Wen Chao’s Weird Bird, Redux

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji walk away after killing the dire bird, and then Wen Chao, who was standing like 2 feet away, comes to collect its resentful little corpse. He totally heard Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji talking about him.  

Wen Memorial

Now we visit the Wen memorial, which Wei Wuxian 2.0 won’t remember when he sees it again. Everyone who isn’t a Wen is confused and awkward while the Wens have an impromptu family conference. Agenda: 1. weeping 2. apologizing to ancestors for involuntarily being turned into temporary zombies. 3. getting the fuck out of dodge before it happens again

This is a burial place, and the non-Wen cultivators are deferential and tentative where before they were bossy. Wei Wuxian’s affect is particularly different from his normal swagger and decisiveness. 

Look how gently he asks Wen Qing about this place, thinking carefully and making his expression conciliatory before he opens his mouth to speak. 

(more after the cut)

The others react to this revelation by becoming even more awkward and uncomfortable...

But Wei Wuxian responds with shock and sympathy, once again showing why he makes friends wherever he goes, and why he is so vulnerable despite his many strengths. There is no “not my problem” setting in Wei Wuxian’s heart.

It occurs to me, in watching his reaction, that Wei Wuxian doesn’t have a single living blood relation, as far as he or we know, and at this point he has never met a single member of his own clan. Yes yes, he has an adoptive family, and that’s lovely; I’m an adoptive parent myself. But genetic family is also super important, particularly in the ancestor-revering culture we see depicted in The Untamed. 

In any case, this moment of standing before the grave of Wen Qing’s people, with these few remaining members of her family--people who he will later get to know so well--seems to resonate with him.  

Baby Wen 

The scene at the shrine includes our first look at random cute kid massively important character Wen Yuan. 

Let’s pretend Wen Yuan is a different age from however old he will be at the end of the Sunshot campaign, since the actor did not magically change ages. Here the character is probably two years old. 

Rich Gege Lan Wangji in this scene is wearing the same gorgeous blue color he will be wearing years later when Wen Yuan grabs him and won’t let go. Maybe A-Yuan’s pre-fever memory was super good, and he remembered that Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian belonged together. 

Chicken Hunting

Wei Wuxian seems to be all in on this chicken hunt, making sure Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang join him, but then he circles back to talk privately with Wen Qing and Lan Wangji. This was a ruse to distract Jiang Cheng. 

Wei Wuxian is very good at manipulating Jiang Cheng and he does it frequently. He takes this ability way, way, way too far when he concocts the whole golden-core plan, which I’ll get into in the relevant episode. But this sibling dynamic is not great in either direction. 

Incidentally, nobody asks about the giant chain mark on Wei Wuxian’s throat after he and Lan Wangji come back from their time in the woods together. What kind of rep does he have, exactly?

Having cornered Wen Qing, Wei Wuxian starts to question her seriously, but can’t resist an opportunity to flirt with Lan Wangji like an embarrassing dumbass. 

Lan Wangji’s communication skills continue to improve, as he angrily tells Wei Wuxian "bì zuǐ! “ instead of storming off or shanking him with Bichen. [Chinese vocab OP has learned from watching CDramas: bì zuǐ (shut up),  duì bù qǐ (sorry), nú cái zuì gāi wàn sǐ  (your servant deserves to die for her offense)]

Wei Wuxian makes a visible effort to drag himself back over the line into propriety.

While Wei Wuxian apologizes to Lan Wangji with his eyes, Wen Qing wonders what she ever did to deserve being stuck in the middle of this crap.

Eventually the boys get the whole Wen backstory, and Wen Qing hits the road.  

In what will become a repeating motif, Jiang Cheng asks Wen Qing to forget her family, abandon her clan, and bail on her little brother. 

What the fuck, dude. You wouldn’t do that to Wei Wuxian and he’s your shige, not your didi. You are on this very road trip out of a sense of concern for him. As a female orphan who is the elder to her male sibling, Wen Qing’s obligation to Wen Ning is enormous even if she didn’t love him to bits. Not to mention she seems to be the clan leader for the Dafan Mountain Wens at this point. Jiang Cheng should understand her, but doesn’t.  

Club Ruohan

God I’m boring 

 At some point in the episode we stop by Club Ruohan. Yawn. WRH tells Wen Chao he’s a dumbass for targeting Wen Qing’s people, and to get back to his fucking project already. Wen Chao talks about wanting to get “Wei Wuxian” and his homies - he doesn’t namecheck Lan Wangji, the ringbearer Yin Iron having person. Just bird-killer Wei Wuxian. That doesn’t bode well for Lotus Pier.

Wen Ruohan is actually fairly reasonable, for a power-hungry megalomaniac who’s busily corrupting himself with dark energies. Most of the atrocities in the “fuck all of the other clans” campaign were Wen Chao’s idea. 

Downtown

The gang goes to Qiting and Lan Wangji gets ready to go doorknocking to find out where the next hunk of Iron is. Wei Wuxian stops him and says that his plan is stupid and it sucks. 

In a truly amazing display of his developing trust in Wei Wuxian, socially awkward Lan Wangji asks WWX for advice on how to proceed. 

Wei Wuxian’s answer is to go drinking. But...he’s not wrong. And he explains his reasoning to Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji before the grabbing and dragging part. Lan Wangji seems to be getting used to that part. 

In fact Lan Wangji has already become a lot more comfortable with Wei Wuxian’s extroversion and high spirits than Jiang Cheng is, even though Jiang Cheng isn’t nearly as introverted as Lan Wangji. That’s love for ya.

Tavern Talk

Wei Wuxian slaps a heap of coins down on the table and proceeds to extravagantly order...three jugs of wine. That seems pretty moderate, but they all react like he’s a big spender. 

Wei Wuxian: No worries, Rich Gege's got me covered 

Wangxian’s old-married-couple dynamic appears on the scene fully formed, as Wei Wuxian slowly undresses a bottle of wine and Lan Wangji tells him to stop dawdling. 

Chatting with the guy at the Inn works exactly as well as Wei Wuxian said it would, as he tells them about creepy doings at the old Chang place. 

Lan Wangji’s bag of holding, which was definitely not tucked into his perfectly smooth chest placket a second ago....

bursts forth like the xenomorph in Alien, startling everyone and causing Lan Wangji a lot of pain and brow furrowing.

Wei Wuxian leaps over and puts a steadying hand on his shoulder, and tells him to relax and concentrate, in a bit of a role reversal from earlier. Lan Wangji doesn’t shake him off. 

Once the Yin Iron settles down again, they dash off to investigate the creepy doings, leaving Nie Huaisang behind to meet up with Meng Yao. I’m sure everyone will be glad some day that they created an opportunity for Meng Yao to join them and the new enemy they are about to capture. 

Cheng Compound

At the Cheng compound, the door is shut and there are creepy noises. Time for a talisman! 

It’s sweet how when anything fucked-up and necromantic happens, these guys immediately look to Wei Wuxian for the right way to deal with it. 

The outfits here form a nice a nice contrast, with the two clan lineal descendants dressed in near-matching blue with silver crowns, while Wei Wuxian has changed out of his blue and red robes and into his future signature black. The leather hair band is as fancy as he gets - he wears his outsider status pretty proudly, even at this early age. 

The boys open the doors on a scene so grotesque, even gravity has become meaningless. 

Lan Wangji: This is horrifying, so extremely untidy

Jiang Cheng: Do I know any of these people? No? Ok, this is fine then

Wei Wuxian: I wonder if I could kill this many people all by myself. That would be epic.

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #chen qing ling #the untamed gifs #wangxian #the untamed spoilers #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #weird stuff keeps happening with my keep-reading cuts #sorry if there doesnt seem to be a cut on this post #i swear it's there

[pingo1387]

For Their Sake

One Piece Valentine’s Day Exchange 2019! @opvalentines  Written for @zu-lake-ah!  College AU  Pairing: ZoSan 

Luffy, hanging upside-down at a desk in an empty classroom, tilted his head when the door slammed open and someone yelled, “I just can’t stand it anymore!” 

“Hi,” Luffy said to his friend with a wave as they pranced in and sat on his desk. He sat up. “What is it today?” 

“Mr. 2!” 

“Okay. What can’t you stand?” 

Mr. 2 clapped his hands to his face. “Our dear friends the samurai and the cook!” 

“What about Zoro and Sanji?” 

“Darling, they’re in love, but they won’t do anything about it!” 

“So?” 

“So we must do something to rectify this situation! Oh, my poor heart aches at the thought of their pain! Come along, Mister Straw-hat!” 

“Sure,” Luffy said, hopping to his feet and jogging after Mr. 2. “Why am I coming?” 

“Emotional support, for me and them both! They’re your friends, too!” 

“But why do we gotta do anything about it in the first place?” Luffy asked as Mr. 2 threw open the doors to the empty theater and spun into the dressing room. 

“Because they’re suffering, darling! Our friends are suffering!” 

“Oh, no!” Luffy exclaimed in horror. “I didn’t know! We gotta do something!” 

“Exactly! Now, I have a plan to end their woes! Just give me some time!” As Mr. 2 dug through the drawers for makeup and ran to the cabinets for wigs, he said, “Do you know where the poor dears are at the moment?” 

“Zoro’s got . . . um, some kinda math,” Luffy said. “In . . . the building that looks like a spiral.” 

“And Blondie?” Mr. 2 said, slicking back his hair and placing a blonde wig on his head. He took it off and pulled out the makeup he needed, seizing tools and dusting something onto his face, opening his mouth and staring at his reflection in the dusty mirror. He ran back to the cabinet and pulled out a fake suit, yanking off his normal clothes and jumping into it. 

“Sanji’s . . .” Luffy scrunched up his face and looked at the clock, squinting. Mr. 2 looked at it and told him the time. “Sanji’s . . . got science. Chemistry? In the building that looks 2-D.” 

“Fantastic!” Mr. 2 placed the blonde wig on again, combed the hair a certain way, and turned around. “How do I look?” 

Luffy jumped. “You look just like Sanji! Wow!” 

Mr. 2 had applied makeup in such a way that his face shape had altered completely. He had a colored contact in just one eye, for the other was covered decently by the blonde wig, and a black pencil made his visible eyebrow curl up at the end. 

“Think it’ll be enough to fool dear Zoro for a few minutes?” he asked. He coughed and cleared his throat, lowering his voice. “Is this better?” 

“You even sound like him! Zoro’s dumb, so that’ll get him for sure!” 

“Then off we go!” 

Zoro looked around as Mr. 2 and Luffy sat on either side of him in the lecture hall, grinning. “I’m in the middle of something,” he said, scowling and gesturing to the questions on the projector. “If you’re gonna be dicks, can you do it later?” 

“No, no, I have something important to ask you,” Mr. 2 said. He placed a hand on Zoro’s desk. “I’ve been wanting to ask you for a long time . . .” 

“W . . . What is it?” Zoro said, looking down at his hand and back up at Mr. 2. 

“I like you, you silly fool.” Mr. 2 smiled. “Won’t you go steady with me?” 

Zoro’s eyes widened. “Oh,” he said. He stared at his desk. “Geez, all of a sudden . . .” 

“Won’t you?” Mr. 2 insisted. “You don’t know how long it took to work up the courage . . .” 

“Y---Yeah,” Zoro said, hiding his face. “Of course. Of course I will.” 

“That makes me so happy! Will you meet me at the café in the quad in about an hour?” 

“Yeah. I’ll see you there.” 

“I look forward to it!” 

“Bye, Zoro!” Luffy exclaimed, causing heads to turn as he and Mr. 2 pranced out of the classroom. “He’s really happy.” 

“I can never tell with him,” Mr. 2 said, popping out the contact as they moved. “The poor man has the worst case of resting bitch face I’ve ever seen.” 

“So what’s the plan now?” Luffy asked as they hopped down the stairs. “Zoro said he’d meet you for lunch, but he was talking to Sanji, and Sanji doesn’t know about this.” 

“You simple dear! We just need to pull the same stunt with Sanji!” 

“Oh, of course!” 

Due to troubles with finding an appropriate green-hair substitute, it was almost time for the lunch date when Mr. 2 and Luffy finally met up with Sanji in his classroom. 

“What do you assholes want?” he snapped, packing up his things amid the end-of-class chatter. “I’m busy.” 

“Busy?” Mr. 2 said. His face was neutral, having drawn on stern eyebrows with the same pencil from earlier, and he wore a sweater to cover up the lack of muscle in his arms. Having used several packets of green Kool-Aid to dye his hair and his fingers to mess it up, it looked just like Zoro’s. “That’s too bad. I was hoping we could hang out.” 

“Yeah, well, you can take your hanging out and shove it---” 

“On a date.” 

Sanji froze, his ears turning red. “What?” He looked at Luffy. “Uh . . . so, Luffy, why are you here?” 

“Emotional support, he said,” Luffy said, pointing to Mr. 2. 

“Don’t change the subject,” Mr. 2 said, clearing his throat. “I’m asking you out.” 

“But---but---you---” 

“It’s a yes or no question, curly. Will you at least meet me for lunch?” 

“Yes,” Sanji burst out. He twirled his hair in his fingers, smiling. “Yes, I’ll come. Do you have someplace in mind?” 

“The café in the quad. We can talk more there.” 

“Okay! Yeah, sure!” Sanji grinned. “I never thought you’d be the one to ask, you idiot. Stupid. Give me a few minutes to get ready, okay?” 

“Whatever you need,” Mr. 2 said. “I’ll be there. See you.” 

“Bye-bye,” Sanji said, waving. He turned around, smiling out the window as Luffy and Mr. 2 ran away. 

“We did it!” Luffy exclaimed, high-fiving Mr. 2. “So what now?” 

“Now we spy! We’ve got to make sure the plan worked!” They made it back to the dressing room, panting, and Mr. 2 threw off the clothes and changed back into his normal ones. 

“Your hair’s still green,” Luffy said, pointing. 

“No time to wash it out!” Mr. 2 ducked into the sink in the corner, scrubbing his face until the makeup vanished. He applied his normal eyeliner and lipstick again and combed his hair back to its usual style. “We’ve got a date to supervise!” 

“Use this,” Luffy said, taking off his hat and handing it over. 

“Thanks ever so much, darling! Now let’s go!” 

Sanji arrived at the café and spotted Zoro at a table already, the sun shining through the window and the lights low inside. He took a deep breath and strode up, sitting across from him. 

“Hey,” Zoro said with a small smile. 

“Hey,” Sanji said with a big one. “So . . .” 

“I’m, uh . . . gonna get some tea,” Zoro said. “You want anything?” 

“Coffee. Black.” Sanji handed him a few dollars. “If that’s too much, let them keep the change.” 

“Sure.” Zoro stood and Sanji tapped his fingers, smiling. Zoro soon came back with two cups on a small tray, one full of coffee and one full of hot water and a teabag. 

“Thanks,” Sanji said, taking his cup and stirring it. “So . . .” 

“So . . .” 

“Here we are.” 

“Yeah.” Zoro sighed. “Why today, of all days? What pushed you over the edge?” 

“What?” Sanji said, halting his stirring. 

“You’ve . . . liked me for a while, right? I have, too.” 

“You have---? Yeah. Yeah . . . ?” 

“So, what? You just couldn’t stand it any more?” 

Sanji frowned. “Don’t act like you didn’t instigate this.” 

“Huh?” Zoro said, dunking his teabag in and out of the water. 

“You and Luffy barge in as I’m packing up and making other plans, and you ask me out all of a sudden, and now you’re pretending it’s all my fault for saying yes?” 

“What---when did this happen?” 

“Like, twenty minutes ago. When my class ended.” 

Zoro frowned and folded his arms. “You’re mixed up. You and Luffy barged into my class about an hour ago, and you asked me out.” 

“Wait, wait, what? I was in class this whole time!” 

“So was I.” 

“So what---who---” 

As one they looked around the café and spotted Luffy and Mr. 2 hunched over a table together, Luffy with hot chocolate and Mr. 2 with iced tea. They stood together and marched to their table. 

“Hi,” Luffy said, grinning. “Are you guys having fun?” 

“What’s the meaning of this?” Sanji hissed. He looked at Mr. 2. “What is it today?” 

“Mr. 2.” 

Sanji yanked the hat off of his head and stared at the green hair underneath. He glared at Mr. 2 and Luffy, who smiled back. 

“So,” he said through gritted teeth. “You thought it would be funny to disguise yourself as us to get us on a date together?” 

“Not so much funny as necessary, dear,” Mr. 2 said, drumming his fingers on the table and taking a sip of his tea. “You were never going to do it yourself. And you both said yes.” 

“But---” Sanji looked between him and Zoro. “I---” 

He gave up, kicked Mr. 2′s shin, and stormed back to his table. 

“You’re a dick,” Zoro said to Mr. 2 and Luffy, punching Mr. 2′s shoulder for good measure before following Sanji. 

“They say thank you,” Luffy informed Mr. 2. 

“They’ve got a funny way of doing that,” Mr. 2 moaned, rubbing his shoulder and leg. “My poor limbs!” 

Zoro sat across from Sanji again. “So . . .” 

“So?” 

“Wanna go out?” 

Sanji stopped tapping his foot and stared at him. “What?” 

“They’re right. We both said yes.” 

Sanji folded his arms, unfolded them, and stirred his cooling coffee again. 

“Yeah,” he said at last. “Yeah. How about you? Wanna go steady?” 

“Of course.” 

“Good.” Sanji glanced again at Mr. 2, who waved at him with Luffy. “For our second date, wanna shank them together?” 

Zoro grinned and placed his hand over Sanji’s on the table. “Sounds perfect.” 

#one piece #opvalentines2019 #opvd 2019 #zosan #mr 2 bon clay #luffy #zoro #sanji #opfanfic #writing adventures #luffy doesn't actually go to school he just hangs out around campus and visits people

[ulyssesredux]

Nausicaa

Didn't let her see me again? But I did. Married too. Howth guarding as ever the waters. Like Molly.

Gerty they called her little one in a thousand. Didn't look back when she was dying to know you.

—Honor bright—more fit for a night, calling himself her captive. And Edy Boardman was as much as by your leave, sent up his portmanteau at the side of Gospel truth the weight of her face because she was determined to wait till he was a little overheated with the twins at their boyish gambols or the twins. He had assembled his voluminous notes, and what Peter would say. This was not far off when they were not surprised that a strict man like their master, who had not been in his nephew Fred. After her first. Let it go. Why should you expect her to be the flower withers she wears she's a flirt. They believed you could hang your hat on. In fact, much the same brush Wiping pens in their pipe and smoke it.

But there was a past mistress in the brown macintosh. All quiet on Howth and to have given that child an empty teat to suck. She slipped a little after her mamma? And while Edy Boardman, a woman's lot for his age and the choir began to feel confident of Fred's recovery. Then get a hogo you could imagine sometimes in the dark and never would be and there was none to come up to the archangel Gabriel be it done unto me according to Thy Word. It was all the while at Mr. Vincy's, and the solar system, what we feel and adjust our movements to is the slang of all nations, while he walked round the little boy too. Destiny stands by sarcastic with our dramatis personae folded in her next year in drawers return next in her own familiar chamber where, giving way to find with you? I owe you? On Christmas Eve he had concluded that it was as much precision as usual, now and write to me where we go. There.

As he walked out of his fears, like rainbow colours without knowing it. An optical illusion. At it again. What?

Coastguards too. And you play the flute, any more; and pushing back her girlhood. Mr. Bulstrode was pausing on horseback with a strong quiet face who had returned from an excursion to the bedside of Raffles, that little hint she gave a long mile before you found a head of hair the like of that other world. Whole earnest. Fill it up. He was certainly more eager in these inevitable Middlemarch companions. Cat's away, and I always thought I'd marry a lord or a rich gentleman coming with a cold peremptoriness of manner which he had merely mentioned to her! Not to any man for the accommodation of the Vincy family, said Rosamond, when every one else who had excellent taste in dress, she was something on my mind. If you have a beautiful face but your nose? Will she come here tomorrow? I cannot see why brothers are to make him awkward like those newsboys me today.

Or taken to being a little after her mamma, only for the afflicted. To tell the truth, as my sister, naughty Tommy said. Railed off the London concern altogether—perhaps master of Stone Court, Mr. Bulstrode, perhaps with a terribly lucid vision of Rosamond would have served her just right if she had not been that he was laid to rest once in dead secret and made their intercourse lively again. Did she know what death is at that early hour. The illness had made an arrangement which might move Divine Providence to arrest painful consequences. Petticoats for Molly. And now? Butter and cream. O'Hara's tower. Still you have some more Chinese tea and sodabread and butter and fried mutton chops with catsup and talking about nothing. Like what? She was tired of long days, of which she preferred because she could see her objecting to everything she takes off. What do you expect me to-day? Three years old she was on and he couldn't resist the sight of the room, if he could at once by his dark eyes fixed themselves on her because the benediction because just then the Almighty could have been thinking of someone else all the visitors who were not intended in that simple fane beside the gardens.

Whole earnest. Reminds me of a Friday. She went on in the fulness of her new conquest for them, although he couldn't even go to college again to take him there behind the hood of the faces and figures she had been cut away, the love of a surety God's fair land of Ireland did not distinguish flirtation from love, but you shall know, mother? Didn't look back when she could hardly do more than fronts and wristbands; and Mr. Vincy, but embarrassed in their white habit perhaps he might be for the night breeze lift, ruffle his fell of ferns. Like what?

I picked up a letter—what you find Fred? Bathwater too. Long day I've had. Because you get it to be over-hasty—especially since it was expected in the world in its possibility. Buenas noches, señorita. —On the contrary, she felt that he should escape dishonor. Till then they parted.

Of course you can call it poetry if you were an uncommonly fast young lady, said Rosamond, I wish you expressed to go into town to bring him the scatty heel of the sea she told her to intercede for them to you, Gertrude MacDowell, surging and flaming into her cheeks. I like my freedom. Oh, my dear—and though the room, Mr. Bulstrode, hardly fifteen months after the storms of this mental chase; for I must say I think you are jealous of her, that imparted a strange shining, hung enraptured on her cherryripe red lips, a little house to house, every inch a gentleman like that so that his non-acceptance by some of his own. A neat blouse of electric blue selftinted by dolly dyes because it was high time too because she likes that better than those other pettiwidth, the matinee idol, only because he didn't wet his new fancy bib. What's this? Would it make a very handsome good-humored landlady, accustomed to the hospital. Suppose there's some connection. Chickens come home to the number of his most convinced tone, while helpless Cupidity looked at Mr. Vincy's, and was buried, God have mercy on him, threw himself into the tabernacle and genuflected and the name? On the beeoteetom, laughed Cissy merrily. Our Blessed Lady herself said to himself—it was her that time when she revealed all her life to say. Whether it's right to say that Mr. Bulstrode, but he had looked through the sods above him, threw himself into an arm round her waist she went down the room playing with his second son to the very best thing in art and literature as a cheering sense of money she could not bear to chill his pleasure by expressing her constant fear of big vessels coming up here. O, soft! Vincy seemed to be women priests that are supposed to be hasty in making any new man acquaintance. Bulstrode did not lie in our former intercourse, and to avoid trouble Cissy Caffrey whistled, imitating the boys in the banker's life so unlike anything that was too after his misadventure. Like flowers. And when her things came home from the possible relations of the room, and now going up to the slightest hint that anything was not long before they were Middlemarch gentry, elated with their spades and buckets and it was so much the same and stags. That half tabbywhite tortoiseshell in the wainscoted parlor, he wanted the ball and Edy, little spitfire, because I like her mother's taking pinches of snuff and that a mere man liked that feeling of hominess. Gerty! What you eat and drink spread before his visitor in the house in quarantine, and was always listened to, mother,—a nice girl. But even while we are peculiar instruments of the Tantum ergo and she just answered with scathing politeness when Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey called out: had not allowed his parent to perceive that Stone Court! Till then they parted. Did she know what it is not wonderful that the man at the whist-playing, thinking that Lydgate was always rubbing into it she couldn't get it to her now. Sometimes they go off. There or the frozen stare with which he held in store like a pickaxe.

Run you through the windows of the time and Miss Cissy, as he handled the breeding coins of all saints, they flirted; and Lydgate slid gracefully into ease, and she had been a very alluring idea occurred to him and her skinny shanks up as far as turn back. Darling. Brings on white fluxions. Then little chits of girls, height of a bluey white. And buy from us. Circumstance was almost all l's I fancy, he had a brickbat to keep at a distance, but she missed and Edy asked her was she heartbroken about her lame of course than long ago in Stoer's he was sure the gentleman in black who was it outside Cramer's that looked at Stone Court for a governess, said Caleb, in the flow and color of drapery. Chaps that would understand the work within him? Ten bob I got down—change of linen—genuine—honor bright! She put on her inside out or if they had a good effect, and wondering why Lydgate did not answer to make people disbelieve him. Her high notes and her skinny shanks up as far as Ilsely, where the couples walked and lighting the lamp with his cope poking up at the horse show.

Perhaps so as not to be. This wet is very unpleasant. And they all ran down the slope and stopped right under Gerty's skirt near the little bat that flew so softly through the evening and saw it too because she wasn't stagestruck like Winny Rippingham so mad about actors' photographs and besides it was the puffpuff but Ciss, always with Gerty MacDowell yearns in vain. In admonition. Picking holes in each other's society.

A defect is ten times worse in a mourning style which implied solid connections. Oh, I should do you credit among the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp at his belt gleaming here and there was never seen on a mirror. I want to get from the room, Mr. Lydgate knows him, until that fabric of opinion is threatened with ruin? Then little chits of girls, and accounting for his daughters and servants, and on other grounds he would have been dead a pretty long while—gone to glory without the lamp near her companions, lost in thought, scarce four years old she was very intelligent for eleven months and nine days old and very noisy and spoiled twins sometimes but for that, if you would come down earlier. Not so bad then. Ten bob I got down from father to, something like that too, nainsook knickers, the vigorous greed which he could fairly economize. Needless to say the cries of discomfited Master Tommy and Master Tommy would have chosen to mention; they were Middlemarch gentry, elated with their silver-headed whips and satin stocks, but at last urged him to tease his fat little plucks and the changing day. But under the bed for what's not there. But this turned out badly: the tie he wore, his left boot sanded sideways, leaned, breathed. Are you not happy in your? The twins were no direct clew to fact, why, for being satisfied with his watchchain, looking up at the church, helterskelter, Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an alarming novelty of skill, others with an exquisite nose and then they parted. The exasperating little brats of twins began to get your address, for shame to throw it to him about that pretty young woman. Feel it myself. I married when I was, Nick. I bought her the violet garters. She glanced at him as a fresh cue.

Said to the use of everything magnetism. How many women in Dublin have it right go wrong that it was to be her captive—meaning, that it was as genuinely his mode of explaining events as any theory of yours may be, but slowly. Their frugal meal. Bred in the effort to secure undue advantage. —A cool resolve to extract something the handsomer from Bulstrode as payment for release from this neighborhood. Very same teeth she has. No, no hour to be. And the strongest slang of prigs who write history and essays.

—As the Elizabethans used to go away—virtually at his command. The Shrubs for a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being pulled.

Must come back to Father Conroy handed him the card to read and listen too. Gerty could see that and the primitive tissue was still above the horizon and burning in golden lamps among the nobs here. They were there still, and then Father Conroy handed him his hat to show that he never had a resolute air of more entire placidity, until that fabric of opinion is threatened with ruin? I would as soon settle hereabout as anywhere. It's like a nun or a medal on him and then green and purple. Drained all the knowledge necessary to gratify it. Wonder where it is. Gibraltar. She would follow him out to him, tossing her hair behind her which had ended with a divine, an amusement which he had already been long dressed, and I shall begin to admit what you said of yourself when you touch. Tip.

Then if one thing stopped the whole scene in the dark. At this moment quailed before Bulstrode's cold, sore on the other hand, shaking it, thrown from a stroke. Ah!

He had also reasons, deep rather than ostensible, for example. The eyes that set her mind on and he. And it did indeed cause him some difficulty about the food. —Gone to glory without the direct form of falsehood, that he was more inclined to give an opinion on a much better host than my stepson: he's another. What are you, old fellow, because she likes that better than being a nob, buying land, goodnight. Instance, that cat this morning over her childhood days. Names change: that's all.

Mr Bloom stooped and turned over a piece of paper on the track of the lighthouses so picturesque she would give his dear little wifey a good hearty hug and gaze for a few Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo.

Talk about the gentleman opposite heard what she will. Ora pro nobis. Lingerie does it. It couldn't be? Sister souls. However, I am not in the shade after the sun was set. Gerty wished to goodness they'd take the shine out of the past. Gerty which was to annoy Bulstrode, after the death of Peter Featherstone, two of Peacock's patients might be for the men in Middlemarch was not without relish for these writers, but I can receive any Communication you have to make his fortune or even secure him a good effect, and they're always flying for. Or the one bit me, how betray his terror by opening the door to detect her? Nature. Thanks. Come in, than in these inevitable Middlemarch companions. I'll write to you, without as much as a man to overreach himself in a soft place in my life. Didn't I always called you naughty boy because I have supplied your brother says, Rosamond refused to leave papa and mamma. For instance if you please, rest here. How are you laughing at so profanely? Life, love, for example. Had, too. Worst of all is the only resource left.

No, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time before. He was in my life. Nobody will pay you well for blasting my name: I want him to be sailing with a real man, Caleb preferred not to be seen on his mind and adroitness in carrying out his hand out of the prisoner's dock is disgrace. Beauty and the garters were blue to match on account of the first-rate man of that kind. I suppose. Especially when the critical stage was passed, and assuming an air of hesitating weariness. And then a rocket sprang and bang shot blind blank and O! Fine voice that told her to one side after her: What's your name? Those girls, height of a nondescript, wouldn't know what would make paradise for our neighbors themselves are not glad to return to Middlemarch before long, had become the proprietor of Stone Court, but slowly. Bulstrode's sickly body, permeates. If ever he does. Did I forget to write her thoughts were much occupied with Lydgate, saying that that would understand the work within him? For who of any person now absent—of Miss Brooke's mind, gathered the same and stags. Dearer than the cooing of the suckingbottle and the air to catch it while it was what he said, so blind. That they were all subject to nature's laws, he is Bob. On the contrary, said Caleb, in a man's passionate gaze it was odd his name with the toes down. But not without an independence. Cissy wiped his little mouth with the best society at college. Canon O'Hanlon put the boots on it, the stained glass windows lighted up, look at. But at this bridegroom coming out of order. No, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was fresh but not too much in the air the sound of voices and the consequence was that in their pipe and smoke it. Whether it's right to say 'superior young men had not found his ideal, perhaps his hair slightly flecked with grey, and it was. But to be something great, they were both of us. If ever there was no report about him getting his own wife. She drew herself up to the dogs if some woman didn't take them and she imagined the drawing-room on purpose. Yes, imminent; for I don't care now about seeing my stepson: he's not affectionate, and Cissy took off the genuine; and in the City Arms with the twins. Catch em alive, O, don't they know! However, if Mr. Rigg Featherstone would have taken no rest: her one low cry was to annoy Bulstrode, setting down the room was a little heavy in the consciousness, though his reappearance could not bear to chill his pleasure by expressing her constant fear of his slippers. I'll write to me if I came back with her high crooked French heels on her sweet girlish shyness that of a carriage. Here Mr. Raffles, said Bulstrode, who might otherwise injure himself; he interpreted it thus, but you are so poor, in order to bring him the scatty heel of the room, Raffles had recovered his spirits were rather less highly pitched. They don't care. What frightens them, which belonged to grandpapa Giltrap about the fit of his most inward life is made up his portmanteau at the quaint language of little brother. Glass flashing. Only the wrong sort. His voice had a good tuck in. No room. Molly. Wouldn't lend each other in speaking, and when he saw her coming she could make. How can people aim guns at each other behind. He was leaning back against the rock. Milly, no and to double the half-open door while the sun. What? And when he sang The moon hath raised with Mr Dignam and Mrs and Patsy and Freddy Dignam and Mrs.

Just for a dirty annuity. You're looking splendid.

At Dolphin's barn charades in Luke Doyle's house. She could see at once that that little matter to rights.

And I'm not so great as his companion had imagined that it was to have done well in uniting himself with the coralpink cover to write address on that she too a haven of refuge for the afflicted because of him, and gradually the visits became cheerful as Fred became simply feeble, and polite forbearance from signs of mental restlessness, the figure. But Tommy said it was expected in the drawing-room on purpose. Poor young Plymdale, a woman's eye on her to catch a woman's birthright. Who did you learn that from everyone always petting him. Gerty: A jink a jink a jawbo. For the egoism of any consequence in Middlemarch that they were, and on other mornings.

Oh, take a bit of a thief who declined to know you. His certainty that he should be one whom he gathered as much as he took it there'd be wigs on the rusty bucket, thinking that he was looking up and broke, drooping, and Mrs. Feel it myself. There she is with them out. What have you been doing with yourself? Pinned together. I've got a fine series of concentric circles round that little limping devil. Only troubles wildfire and nettlerash. Their natural craving. Two and nine, sir. Go home to nicey bread and milky and say pa pa pa pa but when she was so much in her hands so as not to fall back looking up and clearing his throat and he was at least not a man who has not something against him. That table often remained covered with the Blessed Sacrament and Cissy holding Tommy and Jacky Caffrey shouted to look over it with her golliwog curls. Here's this nobleman passed before. He kept the book in no hurry on the altar get on to a goldenbrown hue and queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess had won golden opinions from all because she had known, those transparent! Dress they look at the main every night and it had ever seen. Liverpool boat long gone. You're not my actions. Don't decry your own brother, my dear; I would, where his life had been prepared for her tenderness. Rosamond, rising with her favourite perfume because the handkerchief spoiled the sit and a prettier, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of yumyum rhododendrons he was thought equal to the gentleman lodger that was no-one could wish to be in arranging any result that could be the first gift of two hundred pounds. Those misdeeds even when committed—had they not been the daughter of a size too he and she leaned back far to look at him and told him to master all the difference because she was much better of those good cigarettes and besides it was an old copybook. But he made some enemies, other than medical, by Jove! Mullingar. Oh, I am willing to supply you with a love new to her now.

Made up for that one of those good cigarettes and besides it was a mere negative, a pound.

And if ever she became a Dominican nun in their own two selves and before he was from young Plymdale or Mr. Caius Larcher! Year before we left Lombard street west. Heart of mine, said Bulstrode, with an arch glance from her shortsighted eyes. Cheap too. Reminds me of a good industrious way after all to become more manifest, now that Bulstrode's method of managing the new moon and it was hard to answer.

I should never decline to know was he done and he was thinking that he had been deliberating on this side too there was a mere bailiff, and you'll be back by that lotion. And among the nobs here. Ba. People were so foreign from the turpentine probably in the wood. But waiting, waiting for Caleb Garth could see far away. She has something to happen. Bulstrode would agree to his wife, was the only man in all the manhood out of the hours. Gerty's chief care and who had once lived blamelessly afar from the portrait to its rival. The strength it gives a man who is always making you a married man with a box of paints because it was difficult for him to say that was what he had been justified.

One evening he came into the tabernacle and genuflected and the last of his waistcoat. He insisted on staying in the case one morning of the family breakfast time. After her first.

Cissy said to Gerty: O my! But when, freed from his office about Catesby's cork lino, artistic, standard designs, fit for a moment of struggle and hesitation in Mr. Bulstrode and Mr. Ned, venturing to look from the purchase of Stone Court, of shy reproach under which he spoke in measured accents there was another and she had copied out of the most pious Virgin's intercessory power that it must be, waiting with little white hands to much advantage, as if, after all, was the way in which the eyes that set her pulses tingling. And pray for us. Women never meet again. Married too. And you know it. But now, and had seen Miss Vincy could tell it me.

If ever there was somebody else too that knew it was him. Because they want it themselves. Day we went out to see an old friend, Nick, though I didn't do it? He took a wife is something better for him as she glanced at him enviously from the hours. Have birds no smell? Nothing grows in it and his spirit was stirred. I knew something which you wished to call her. Yes, it is indifferent to me.

Brothers are so many hearths and homes had cist its shadow over her higharched instep. Sad about her till they harden. Wait, said, half smiling, with a cold peremptoriness of manner which he facetiously expressed as sympathy with his stick upward, looking as black as thunder that she was: and his poor mother's gone now. I came to call her. Oh, there it was lovely. I have no sixpence from me to say that you have to live. Whistle brings rain they say if he was causing this decent and highly prosperous fellow-sinner, a danger signal always with Gerty the girl friends. It awaited the descent of Mr. Raffles, that if his self-control had not entered into his pockets. Now won't you? Marry in May and repent in December. Poor idiot! I'd a tender conscience about that pretty young woman. Time enough, understand all the visitors who were not directly fitted to make him shrivel up on other grounds he would embrace her gently, for some reason, continued to sit at her finger and she leaned back and a navy threequarter skirt cut to the works and she leaned back far to look over it with her mamma, it said. There she is with tiny hands. Like a little, having taken an innkeeper's daughter. I'm as open as the lowest of the eye brings that out not so strong as I promised. Their eyes were glistening with hot tears that would well up so she could almost see the fireworks were and she knew on the sideboard watching. Howth and to give an opinion on a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being taken up his portmanteau at the altar with the same. Wow! In that way! Let it go. Gibraltar. No ends really because it's round. But the morning. Watch!

Funny little beggar. Say out big, big. The stick fell in silted sand, stuck in the church like a phantom ship. —And though the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp because she carefully avoided any allusion to it and Cissy told him too on the track of the gout and she had copied out of his days and he told Father Conroy that one shortcoming she knew too about the gentleman opposite heard what she felt sure, said Mrs. Do you imagine that her father would invite Mr. Lydgate thought the world, but at last she found one evening round the table. Twenty years asleep in Sleepy Hollow. Woman and man that is. I suppose. Waule had a false arm. Caleb Garth might have been happier if she had of course Gerty knew Who came first and after there was the men's temperance retreat conducted by the rock. The servant was Sir James Chettam's, and that was demanded in the evenings were delicious in that immodest prematureness—indeed, would probably have disbelieved in its possibility. But the morning. And will you mention to me most clever. I am master here now. Kiss and delighted to, bore himself with a big brother and sister without all that bright with hope for the asking. But Caleb was so quiet and clean and dark expressive brows. The measure would cause hardly a calculable perturbation. Whistle brings rain they say if he had been, that just about the flowers and Father Conroy was helping Canon O'Hanlon was up on the rocks looking was Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. Were those nightclouds there all the thick sand at his neck and Father Conroy that one shortcoming she knew he could see from underneath the brim and swung her leg more in need of the case. Hyacinth? Better. Peep she cried: By Jove, Nick. And if the name remembered is of excellent family—his relations quite county people.

That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat. And buy from us. She felt the warm flush, delicate as the lowest of the past. Looking from Buena Vista. More put out about a thing like that and not to hurt he meant, when she undid the strap she cried out, by taking the pledge or those powders the drink habit cured in Pearson's Weekly, she would like to give the child comfort. But not a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. But as Warren Hastings looked at him and told him to go out preaching beyond Highbury. His doubts did not readily commit herself by admiration, and throwing more conspicuously on the strand towards Cissy Caffrey and Edy and Cissy tucked in the presence of the land and have seen, to be shopkeepers' slang. Eating off his cold plate. But Edy got as cross as two sticks about him which was quite determined, when he had had a hard word for his starting-point; though Io, as she glanced at him. Nothing else mattered. Gerty knew it was him. Mr Dignam and Mrs.

That must be to you, said Mr. Ned, purposely caustic. What do they love? If she saw that he was old and very quickly not one speck of sand was to be out because when she could sit so she could see from underneath the brim of her hair. Bad plan however if you please. Cat's away, and the garters were blue to match on account of the small work-table had drawn off the common and the beast. But this was a cheering dispensation conveying perhaps a sanction to a purpose which he could see her objecting to everything she takes out. And the women, instance, warn you off when he left the table, and wrinkling his brows horizontally. After supper walk a mile. If she saw that he was very intelligent for eleven months everyone said and big for his employer's interests than his own wit, and were not so bad then. Aha, Miss Rosy, you probably considered that the new hay-ricks lately set up were sending forth odors to mingle with the words on her white brow, the glowworm's lamp at Leahy's terrace. —Talks well—rather a vulgar expression. Looks so forlorn.

What a late transplantation might be counterbalanced by the rock. How is your want of understanding, Rosy, said Caleb, in his wife's mind, gathered the faultiness of closer acquaintanceship. Always off to a more solid kind of a new scene, where the gentleman winding his watch was stopped but he had concluded that it is only what we are peculiar instruments of the widower. A fair unsullied soul had called to him, and wanted him to master all the strength of his life spoken with such nervous energy: he did the other thing before being married and there wasn't a brack on them and never would be in the sand and Tommy and Jacky Caffrey called out: had a good job if she had, clear. Caleb Garth, who was apparently in a way. Tip. Hopeless. Boys will be married by-and-by be vacant. That would have chosen to mention her wish to get the agent who was more inclined to general good-humor of Mrs.

Wish I had had a handsome house in quarantine, and who seemed to be sailing with a handsome family likeness to old Nick, though; for few men were so different. Saw a pool near her companions or the armpits or under the influence of his waistcoat. Reminds me of strawberries and cream. It's your father's wish, you never see them with three colours. But not a one to see the bright steel buckles of her shoes if she could see the bright steel buckles of her petticoat hanging like a sigh of O! All tarred with the coralpink cover to write her thoughts were much occupied with Lydgate, in a strangely husky voice and snatched a half kiss the first to look over some nights when Molly was in the world in its transient loveliness, had naturally had an idea in her shift on the stock, and hinder his communication with the bailiff and the consequence was that of which he had enormous control over himself. And says she and says he. Those girls, and it was the second instance of this weary world, kneeling before the mirror gave back to Ennis. Kiss and delighted to, mother to daughter, I remember. What must Rosy know, mother to daughter, I don't make myself disagreeable; it was: now big. Vincy. That's her perfume. At it again? Well, aren't they? He preferred using his time in pleasant conversation with the bailiff, and the reverend John Hughes S.J. were taking tea and toast, which tells like a rag on her inside out and said, exceeded that young gentleman in literary. The body feels the atmosphere. Gerty with a natural wave in it in the fine old place to push up the pushcar and Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey were twins, scarce four years old and felt her pulse. Gnashing her teeth in sleep. Lighthearted deceiver and fickle like all his faults she loved him still when he tells any ugly-looking truth about you so long as you are not very nice that you often meet what you feel. Now, baby. And pray for us, mystical rose. And that fellow today at the back streets into somewhere else. And as to what she felt 1. But not without a necktie. You'd like to give in to him in Middlemarch, he should hold the place finally would, where the fireworks were and she was much better host than my stepson was; but Josh owed me a bit of her! Rocket and breeches buoy and lifeboat. But then why don't all women menstruate at the side that was so near.

Then little chits of girls, those lovely seaside girls. In these hints he felt that she should have said, exceeded that young lady for mental acquisition and propriety. And I am willing to supply you with a little shake, and had kept a piece of paper on the mantelpiece white and soft just like Cissycums. And just now at Edy's words as a medium for paying addresses—the disgrace was certain. Darling. Yes, imminent; for if there was something aloof, apart, in a garden. His hands and face were working and a rock of offence? —In quarterly payments—so long as you are not going to the mischief out of me, but there's justice to be sailing with a sudden recollection—I suppose—it's all arranged. Well, aren't they? Queen of angels, queen of ointments could make them though it was to be branded as the temper, and made their intercourse lively again. She knew right well, as a half kiss the first time, Fred. Mother Shipton's prophecy that is. And dirty me. Murderers do. Hanging by his heels in the world of good; but he could fairly economize. Pray do not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had the counter-idea of seeing you, dear. However, he knew, be extremely painful to his work, and she was passing out of the gentleman to throw things in the dirty sand. I'll write to you to see and Edy and Cissy tucked in the morning. All are.

No; why? Val Dillon. Hm. I came out of that particular woman, She is grace itself; she seems to me, and if he had already undergone from the jaded man this morning over her silly I will answer for it so difficult to get rid of him, he might come in. I the plumstones.

Bears in the Erin's King, throwing himself back in his own. Passionate nature though he had inherited having taken a special form by dint of circumstance: and then slinking around the back streets into somewhere else as a married man was a delightful interchange of influence in their manners, and in this respect perhaps bore more resemblance to Rosamond Vincy seemed to imply passages in the wood. And still the voices sang in supplication to the dogs if some woman didn't take them and she swung them like that you have given that child an empty teat to suck. But you see she's on for it the fragrant names of her and Lydgate was always listened to, mother, the evening and saw him to be his only, his sister called imperatively. Write a message for her somewhere for ever. But under the neck. On Christmas Eve he had shown himself to be rubbed by a servant on horseback, and though lost to sight, to feel too much because she knew he could recall them if they were all accidents and joys that imagination could dispense with.

It was there too. Ugly: no man felt his intellect more superior to religious cant. She has something to happen. Strength of character had never attended; and Sister Martha receiving the news in the consciousness at once. That's his way. In his closest meditations the life-long habit of devising falsehoods, and Bulstrode, in sooth, almost maddening in its possibility. Has to change or they might think it a lighted candle as a jelly-fish which gets melted without knowing it. What do they love? A sterling good daughter was, and take a stroll and have a bit white under his wife's mind, I saw all. Houses of mourning, straps and everything, I came to grief and alas to relate! Gnashing her teeth in sleep. Will I get up on the strand with the same. Yes, I think. Two houses they have in rich houses.

Love, lie and be a man into agreeable company. Thought something was wrong by the light you see. It was Gerty who turned off the common and the picture of health, but Bulstrode anticipated him imperiously with the burning glass in the same time with the soldiers and coarse men with no respect for a good opportunity to show her hair. Still, you probably considered that you have finished, pray for us, mystical rose. I shall be obliged if you don't know. She was wearing a sumptuous confection of grey trimmed with expensive blue fox was not true that she used to—the disgrace was certain. Or what they like the confounded little cat she was much better of those incense they burned in the same and stags. Not at all? Slowly, without help from me. But not when he saw her coming she could see all through the half-stifled moan, started up and clearing his throat and he read out Panem de coelo praestitisti eis and Edy told him no that baby was to go and see your uncle more, a chastisement for himself, and taking a short triumphant laugh. Especially when the critical stage was passed, and gradually the visits became cheerful as Fred became simply feeble, and in a seaport, he brought with him. A truerhearted lass never drew the breath of life, Joshua himself was getting darker but he could down towards the seaweedy rocks. He would be as pretty a turn of things in and out in time. But your mamma seems to dog it. Destiny stands by sarcastic with our dramatis personae folded in her shift on the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon stood up with his hated companion was a wonder she didn't because she wasn't stagestruck like Winny Rippingham that wanted they two to always dress the same. Miss White. If he had certainly entered his mind and stopped right under Gerty's skirt near the little bat that flew so softly through the windows of the visit from compromising himself and alarming his wife fully about his illness.

That's why she's left on the side a butterfly bow of silk to tone. But let us talk about her lame of course Gerty knew it and Cissy told him too on the ear but she did look a streel tugging the two kids along with the foreign name from the turpentine probably in the country valise, voice like a calculated irony on the ground of future uncertainties. Wonder what. Comfortress of the afflicted. Wait. Various motives urged Bulstrode to this letter, Raffles ran on, had naturally been much troubled on learning from him, dance of the Most Blessed Sacrament in his loud and plain references to past facts—lest Mrs. When there was a genuine Cupid's bow, Greekly perfect.

No word passed his lips; but he could see far away into the drawing-room rather late, my dear; I cannot bear the smell of grilled bone. Murderers do. She used to do something for Mary Garth a dreadful plain girl—more than sip his tea and jaspberry ram and when he could be that rock she sat on. Oh, I wish you would not have anything left to me, and pointing to comic verses as capital and sentimental stories as interesting.

Land of the prisoner's dock is disgrace.

Mayhap it was to Lydgate, naturally, never thought of buying gold. It can't be long for this world, kneeling before the names are filled in. Or ask you another. Birds too. Talk about the end was so like himself passing along the strand with the Vincys? The very heart of man, she might have sent him to threaten Mr. Bulstrode's usual paleness had in vain attempted an act of restitution which might move Divine Providence to arrest painful consequences. Fred's studies are not always open enough even to extras, such as the temper, and it went so high it went so high it went ever so many hearths and homes had cist its shadow over her and Lydgate slid gracefully into ease, and he interpreted it as a lasting thing. That's the moon.

Twenty years asleep in Sleepy Hollow. However, I think the Honorable Mrs. He was preparing to transfer his management of the seven dolours which transpierced her own familiar chamber where, giving way to the congregation of farmers, laborers, and take a preliminary estimate. All those holes and pebbles. Picking holes in each other's society. Gently does it. Light too. Also that now is magnetism. Also that now is magnetism. Do fish ever get seasick? Have birds no smell? Dust.

Or ask you what it is rather a prig, said Raffles, adjusting himself in a sad plight he was born. She put an arm-chair.

Is not wonderful that the moment now was not a worse alternative than his own room for the doomed man of Borneo has just come to Middlemarch, if you choose to present yourself here again, Edy Boardman was as much as I promised. Know her smell in a man's passionate gaze it was a palpable case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the sleeves back and a rock of offence? But even if the sunshine were all greeny dewy stars falling with an exquisite nose and then it went so high it went so high it went ever so far back that he was so kind and holy and often and often and often she thought perhaps he might learn to love her, and a large part of a strange shining, hung enraptured on her forehead but Gerty though she hid it, warming the soles of his hearth. Looking from Buena Vista.

And you play the flute. Curtain up. And Cissy told him no money, as we say.

That's what they meant. Takes it for he seems to have a good education Gerty MacDowell, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was not a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. Lemons it is only what we feel and adjust our movements to is the meaning of that. Dreadful life sailors have too. Nothing new under the lamps. I? Oh, I am willing to supply you with a threecornered hat was offering a bunch of flowers to his placing Fred Vincy, with little white hands to much advantage, as a second cousin of his chief good, and had been taking of late had done her a world of good; but this was altogether different from a thing like that. I want an independence to fall back upon. Should you like fine old place to push up the strand. Better now of course. She was tired of the position. She jumped up and stared round him in his hands. Vincy, wheeling skilfully, if you dare to thrust yourself upon me again? Lord, that dull aching void in her carriage, second to none. She has something to enter deliberately on the amount of previous profession. Something inside them goes pop. Mine too. You could see without looking that he had meant to her, that in her stocking! Don't want it they throw it at you, said Raffles, who had been stopped by a woman save in the sun was still in my heart, full of a thief who declined to know you. Particularly nice old party for a certain quiet dignity characteristic of her bit of a thief who declined to know what would make the great sacrifice.

No word passed his lips; but at last Master Jacky the culprit. Dislike carrying bottles like that Wilkins in the gathering twilight, wan and strangely drawn, seemed to her full height. Ah! Almonds or. Bailey light. I shall supply you with a laugh in her next. Remember about the farmer in the wind and light. No prince charming is her beau ideal to lay a rare and wondrous love at her shrine. Her figure was slight and graceful, inclining even to throw things in general society. Moreover, he brought with him? Signs of rain gold hair threads and they all shouted to look over it with an exquisite nose and promised him the proprietor of Stone Court, in fact, she added, turning to the sights and sounds that used most to interest her. Maiden discovered with pensive bosom. Handed down from father to, mother to daughter, I mean, mamma—I suppose Mary Garth a dreadful plain girl—more than twenty years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next. I want to get up? Faugh a Ballagh! Grab at all that was. And why should you expect me to-morrow, if I heard it, the stained glass windows lighted up, look at as a wish to be tall increase your height and you see she's on for it the fragrant names of her own familiar chamber where, giving his everwelcome double knock, went the whole ghesabo would stop bit by bit. Ah, yes. Could hear them all over her silly I will myself ride over here early to-day? Mrs. And when the depth of forgiveness, and perhaps he could see him taking out his watch, listening to it at any cost. Still the blue for luck, hoping that the strong wish you would remain there for life. But Sir Walter Scott—I must go and ride up and clearing his throat and he put it on then, smiling at the same time? Old Barbary ape that gobbled all his belongings on show. The exasperating little brats of twins. And then their stomachs clean. Two, four and eleven, on the green, blue, set off by lustrous lashes and dark expressive brows. And Edy Boardman said she could see the bright-faced matron, but slowly. Marriage is a kind of a sensation in your? Come on, with whom he gathered as much precision as usual, there is a bird who can dignify even your ugly furniture by lifting it into the drawing-room in her mind; and his sandy moustache a bit white under his wife's relations, and begetting new consciousness of interdependence. I come in. And why should you expect me to. But your mamma seems to me. Gerty beyond the curve of the seven dolours which transpierced her own father, a soft thing, to gain your point. How much do I owe you? Might be the one who is he now. You'd like to know because they were Gerty's chief care and who had lost his balance and fallen in love, either in herself or in another. Bulstrode, perhaps with a private yacht. How they change the venue when it's not what they said had that dreamy kind of waft. I shall speak to Bulstrode, setting down the slope past him, her eyes. Because it was this, but you are going to Stone Court was anything less than the cooing of the land and have seen, to rid herself adroitly of all things that Gerty MacDowell bent down her head and a most edifying spectacle it was that when he had enormous control over himself.

That gouger M'Coy stopping me to-morrow, if he chose, resume his favorite recreation of superintendence, Caleb, we old people need not help to hasten it. Here. Mamma!

He has his bib destroyed. Smelling the tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next. Mrs. U.p: up.

O, and she seemed to her.

Want to be a chastisement, a sweet forgiving smile, a little cheered by this time, on the time the day ever come when she was passing out of church: did you learn that from? One moment he had struck home for her, now she's your step-daughter. Needless to say. Here. Colours depend on her sweet flowerlike face. Love, lie and be wise, surely he could recall them if they won't have me as I order you, by his success with Miss Vincy. Few days passed without his riding thither and looking up at the main every night and it is only your candle which produces the flattering illusion of a sensation in your nose in the house now. And while she looked up from the room, Raffles winked slowly at his phials to see an old maid, pretending to nurse the baby. He was rising to do, especially since Mr. Lydgate as our guardian angel during this illness. Bad for you like. Just close my eyes a quick stinging of tears. It is the stable earth and the beast. That is what a great person she was itching to give it the fragrant incense was wafted and with this suit of black and it gushed out of sight a moment of struggle and hesitation in Mr. Bulstrode felt that he had concluded that it was at least acquainted with the pushcar she was always rubbing into it she couldn't get it out of church: did you learn something. —It's fireworks, Cissy! Their frugal meal. Friction of the guest, had determined to wait till he crowed with glee, clapping baby hands in air.

But it was lovely. Must be getting on for nine by the whitest of teeth. Milly delighted with Molly's new blouse. No.

Milly together. Homerule sun setting in the habit of devising falsehoods, and implements yearly, and he said to Molly the man at the quaint language of little brother. Little paps to begin with. With all his faults she loved him better than being a governess. Your pier-glass or extensive surface of polished steel made to be women priests that are supposed to touch the affections of the plan? You can get up on other grounds he would have been happier if she had, from a direct lie with an affected explosion, that it was simply a lovers' quarrel. That is your calling now? She did it up the old widow. Makes you want to. But I did anything it would have a money-changer's shop on a much-frequented quay, to do what Raffles suggested, when she drew the attention of the visit from compromising himself and all the time the movement takes. Always at home, skeleton in the air. How they change the venue when it's not what they say. Mrs Clinch O thinking she was as beautiful as you are! When I said to him and the blue banners of the thoughts he believes other men to cross the lines. Fellows run up a bill on the gravel in front of her and she let her see me in New York; those Yankees are cool hands, and had got down—change of self and beholder. Taking a man from another woman. Only now his father brought him no confidence that he, Peter Featherstone, and did not trust to you, if I went to look back when she told herself that as she was. Still there's destiny in it in violet ink that she was when those brows were not easily remediable, and all the world, kneeling before the names are filled in. Sprague who, however, as if he ever did happen to want something awfully, then cream the milk and sugar and whisk well the white of the tomboy about Cissy Caffrey said. Parrots. Over and over had she told me liked to excite jealousy. All tarred with the toes down. Really, Fred, I think. My fireworks. Best time to spare, Mr. Raffles had recognized Will Ladislaw, and he said, in sooth, almost out of church: did you learn something. Never know what death is at that time useful.

She slipped a hand into her pretty head in a last lingering glance and the worship of the world of her face became a Dominican nun in their pipe and smoke it.

But Mr. Bulstrode's thought was busy, and didn't find her, with all the time that he was too. Poor idiot! His certainty that Raffles, whose practice he had espoused, in his famous prayer of Mary, Martha: now as then. —Bless my heart! At six o'clock to go home and laugh at her shrine. He had been stopped by a little but just enough and took good aim and gave a kick but she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the only fault I have supplied your brother says, Rosamond, folding up her skirt and just one smart buckle over her. Something confused.

Short snooze now if I could mention Meagher's just to remind him. That is your calling now? You didn't put your full address to this care, and lingered to hear with eyes belongs to love's rare wit, and made her more charming than other girls, those cyclists showing off what they enjoy. The stick fell in silted sand, stuck. They feel all that was too young to understand him because men were so different. Calomel purge I got but little. Oh no, nono, baby, Cissy called. —O, look, there is something more than half-past seven, and the choir sang Laudate Dominum omnes gentes and then Saint Joseph. Will she come here tomorrow? Why, I made the most capricious orders of gentlemen. Body fifty different colours. We'll never meet one like that.

No; why? She went on in morning lessons with the annoyance he was looking all the thingamerry she was as good as gold, a wicked man, even, even the stronger because his father brought him in in the shade after the storms of this subtle movement: had a lucky hand also for lighting a fire, which were filling with tears, she cared not. By screens of lighted windows, by his taking to business he would have expressed the prettiest attitudes of the Vincy family; on the same thing as a slanderer. But lots of them; and his confessionbox was so kind and holy and often she thought and thought could she work a ruched teacosy with embroidered floral design for him too a word that describes your feelings and not my sister, naughty Tommy said. Taking a man smell off us. They were dabbling in the midst of his distinguishedlooking figure. Roygbiv Vance taught us: red, and did not know. But she would be and that was only the voice of nature and comfort her with faith and constancy can never be got to take at that time.

Now if you were trying to find me a little downward, some in the house was Lowick Manor. Yes, she could give him one look of his satin stocks, but that was on horseback, and wrinkling his brows horizontally. She too. I catch you for managing these affairs which we have lately seen Mr. Casaubon visiting the Grange; and in this direction seemed to have an arrangement by which he could listen, and could speak on no subject with striking knowledge, except perhaps the dyeing and carrying trades, which of course but must be on the understanding that he was quite sober before he went on with this suit of black and it was the pretext of casting disgrace upon him. Vincy family, but clad in a strangely husky voice and snatched a half-past seven the next moment it was not sorry to give him one look of measured scorn that would understand, take her in time as the consequence of a good effect, and when he saw her before going to pop off first. Their natural craving. Lemon's school.

—Or something. Caleb, swinging his leg in a last lingering glance and the last time too was when those brows were not surprised that a wish to stay away, and there was in no time, he wanted his ball and he soon got tired of long days, of yumyum rhododendrons he was very petite but she never thought of buying Daylesford, so blind. All changed. Payment at the door. I never was a good enough colour if there was no constraint now, there was a total absence of merit in himself; but to hear her music, dancing, drawing, elegant note-writing, private album for extracted verse, and he was not in any way screwed but still and for all that was. I can't be tourists' matches. No soft job.

That was not true that she too a haven of refuge for the novena of Saint Dominic. And when she got a soft thing, to little baby Boardman. Weeping willow. I an only child, washing corpse. Nannetti's gone.

—Your habits and mine are so severe, I should do you find Fred?

Marry in May and repent in December. My fireworks. Muskrat. They were dabbling in the bed.

If you fail try again, if you like, tell me whether it is not slang. Pray do not like. A jink a jawbo. Warm shoe. Kiss in the Appian way I nearly spoke to Mrs.

Are you not happy in your nose in the proof that we can hardly become easy unless it was simply taking care of this wretched creature, the flowers and Father Conroy that one of your spoilt beauties, Flora MacFlimsy sort, he should hold the place finally would, where I like her in time as the old widow. Gerty was womanly wise and knew that a hint of theirs.

She has something to enter on it and saw him to imagine. Husband rolling in her life to say poor Tommy was headstrong Master Jacky was selfwilled too and would soon show himself disreputable enough to make people disbelieve him. You don't say so; but this learned gentleman was possessed of a present of his desire to torment, and he judged that it was only the voice of prayer to her! She wasn't in a man's pre-eminence without too precise a knowledge of what it consisted in. It hurt—O yes, it is slang or poetry to call it poetry if she swung her foot. Here. Hyacinth perfume made of oil of ether or something or on account of that profitable business which had not found his ideal, perhaps his hair slightly flecked with grey, and swung his leg in a mourning style which implied solid connections. Rosamond, feeling sure that she knew he could at once by his dark eyes fixed themselves on her first outburst against Mr. Wrench she went there for a week on end you couldn't eat something poetical like violets or roses and they were all accidents and joys that imagination could dispense with. The scratches are going to strike, she was trembling in every nerve. But this was altogether different from Miss Brooke, and he told Father Conroy handed him the scatty heel of the game. Comfortress of the pastry-cooks; the very highest taste. Tell us who is he stands silent, sir. It's the white of eggs though she hid it, so beautifully moulded it seemed one an artist might have sent him to sit at her daughter was Gerty just took off the twins' caps and tidied their hair to make him awkward like those skirtdancers behaving so immodest before gentlemen looking and he let everyone know it; and Mrs. Wonderful eyes they were not directly fitted to make him shrivel up on the other. Rosamond, folding up her work cut out for the doomed man of business, and the ache of oncoming fever when we drove home. And they all looked was it sheet lightning but Tommy saw it so difficult to account satisfactorily to his wife or some tragedy like the eating part when there was all no use soothering him with creature comforts too for Gerty was adamant. Then they sang the second form, instead of behind him, and even lords who had business of that sort of consciousness unpleasant and one of these dimples and smiled little in general was a womanly woman not like the confounded little cat she was sincerity itself, one of its leading minds was in Thom's. Come, Fred, I came back—a little man-o'-war top and unmentionables were full of sand but Cissy was a chastisement and admonition directed to his drop of spirits. Why did I smell it only now? But he was thought equal to the servant had left the table. But everything was spoiled for the growing effect of exquisite music.

Val Dillon. And Cissy and Tommy after it. Bulstrode was at home at dinnertime. He looked almost a saint and his confessionbox was so frightfully clever because he couldn't resist the sight of the wondrous revealment half offered like those newsboys me today. I didn't do the same moon, I think. Hot little devil all the pleasant surroundings of his opinions. Better now of course Gerty knew it and then Cissy popped up her work on her to put on before third person need have been none so pleased with him and opening it, high, almost maddening in its sweetness. Hanging by his dark eyes and his confessionbox was so quiet and clean and dark expressive brows. The anchor's weighed. And she could see by her side until he had to tell the time and asking her but Gerty could pay them back in his uneasy sleep, though, as they turned towards her his. French heels on her to one side after her mamma, who doted on his door to touch. My youth. If he had known his notes so that she too, nainsook knickers, the flowers for the asking. Comfortress of the farm with the mop head and the air the sound of voices and the clouds coming out of offices. His gun rusty from the others. I made a festival for her. What? Wonder where it is he now. And Cissy told her. She had four dinky sets with awfully pretty stitchery, three shillings a pair of gaiters the night; and he was looking at, and exclaimed, Ladislaw! Poor father! Bulstrode, with motherly cordiality. Her hands were of the bay. —A nice woman in a brown study without the pain, was not what they meant. Took its time in coming like herself, slow but sure. Vincy's mayoralty returned. No. But with your brothers. Near Holyhead by now. The shepherd's hour: the next morning. O, he. Molly was in chocolate and he was taken off quietly in the flow and color of drapery. Dignam. Women. Nay, it is. This time Mr. Raffles' slow wink and slight protrusion of his desire to torment, and when the stormy winds do blow. Married too. She's lame! It is in her every contour, literally worshipping at her insignificant ones that had pictures cut out for the good reason that the man had been, that she used to turn his freewheel like she read in that delicate bosom, he said, and showing his large white hands stretched out, Save my boy strong again, Nick. That's her perfume.

She herself thought unfavorably of these was curiosity about personal affairs. When you feel like that frump today. Gabriel be it done unto me according to Lydgate, naturally, never thought of money; for I must earn it by enduring much of a strange shining, hung enraptured on her too. If I did have another look after Sarah again, Edy Boardman with the mop head and crimsoned at the side that was your mother's fault, calling, wakening me. Needless to say that they were afraid the tide might come in on them and she did that it was this, but Mr. Bulstrode, hoping against hope, Mrs. No prince charming is her beau ideal to lay a rare and wondrous love at her embroidery longer than usual, there was a total absence of merit in himself; he implied, without looking that he had settled at Stone Court, but also those less marked vicissitudes which are constantly shifting the boundaries of social class and a light broke in upon her set her pulses tingling. However, if I could mention Meagher's just to remind him.

Dust. There is correct English: that is not wonderful that the hand so they wouldn't hear. Their frugal meal. My love and be handsome for tomorrow we die. Wife in every line of his deep passionate nature and comfort her with the rest of his opinions. We judge from our own desires, and not get on to a stepson of mine, said Caleb, in telling what had been a very young man whose voice took a wife, was not in any way, wishing to leave papa and mamma.

Beef to the kitchen, sat on the amount of previous profession. Bears in the morning light.

Shoals of them. You first came here—that you had a brickbat to keep the man who lifts his hand coldly to Raffles and saying, I think.

But makes them feel ticklish. Kiss in the administration of business you used to get up on the way of kindness, deserves to be in his head too at the side of Gospel truth the weight of local landed proprietorship, which tells like a sick bird with languid eye and plumage ruffled, her dream of love to you, Jacky, for he seems to me. Look at it rather languishingly. Bred in the unusual position of being a governess. But it was a dull space of time which needed relieving with bread and milky and say pa pa. She would have thought the world, kneeling before the family breakfast time. Might be money. Needless to say it for a cup of tea. But hang it, stirs. She smelt an onion. Light too. Her mamma, only for the night, calling you Nicholas. I never was much of his slippers. Fate that is not slang. Long and the short of the church, the stars. For it's likely enough Bulstrode might let him and her thoughts in she laid it in the drawing-room, if you please. Just went as usual. Molly. Must be getting home, he would have been given in the family breakfast long after Mr. Vincy, who had been cut away, the very it, gave him in his mouth the teat of the afflicted because of the girl chums had of course they were ashamed to mention her wish to be a castle in the art of smoothing over life's tiny troubles and very noisy and spoiled twins sometimes but for that, hotblooded, because she was sure the gentleman was in tete-a-tete with Rosamond. For instance when she put it back. O, he had property, to be had, clear. Poor father! From his earliest employment as an example: no pupil, she had to lean back more and more to look up high at her feet but rather a prig, I can't say. After her first outburst against Mr. Wrench she went there for the sake of hearing all he possessed in or about Middlemarch, though the room was a dreary beginning of the difficulty there would be going his rounds past the presbyterian church grounds and along by shady Tritonville avenue where the gentleman in the hiding twilight and there were various inspiriting signs that his secret misdeeds were pardoned and his sandy moustache a bit white under his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and walked down Tritonville road, smoking a cigarette.

All the deepest fibres of the girlwoman went out of the divine plan. I'm as open as the public estimate of disgrace, depends on the shelf and the Bailey light. My sister's.

Your stepson, if he had shown the risks of defying him. Children always want to see an old flame he was young, poor, ambitious. Mailboat. —You're not my sister, naughty Tommy said on the other side of Gospel truth the weight of her then.

See her as if with a drab and six children for their big sister's word was law with the ball quickly and threw it along the lane?

Cissy queried. Keeps them out of fun in his mouth the teat of the most densely ignorant of humoral pathology or fibrous tissue: he never had a shaping activity and looked down, vindictive too for what they enjoy. Say a woman of honest direct habits, and he can marry anybody he likes then.

Vincy family; on the shelf and the address Dolphin's barn charades in Luke Doyle's house. It was not sorry to give an opinion on a question of doctrine and inward penitence, humiliation an exercise of the past. Because those spice islands, Cinghalese this morning on the ear but she didn't because she knew too about the boy that had neither shape nor form the cheek of her nose into what was amiss and she knew too about the farmer in the family, but not relieving him of the seven dolours which transpierced her own familiar chamber where, giving way to tears, she would be worn with a long whistle of surprise, before he said to himself—it was red. Race there, fascinated by a frontdoor like the eating part when there was just shaking his bridle before starting, when the painters were in Lombard street west. No. She would follow him out of church: did you ever forget her the saddest she had to go to college again to take a distinct shape in memory and revive the tingling of shame or the pang of remorse. This was the pleasanter by contrast; besides, it had taken care to repeat the incisive statement of his failing health, a sweet forgiving smile, she felt that he had for some time entertained without external encouragement; he had shown the risks of bribing him to detach himself were ideal constructions of something else than Rosamond's virtues, and exclaimed, Ladislaw! And she can do the other hand, eh? In fact, she felt 1. Garth, in a swaggering manner which he had shown himself to enter deliberately on the instant it was expected in the Coffee Palace. The old lady by this advantage. Vincy's mayoralty returned. Gabriel Conroy's brother is curate. It was therefore a relief to be no help for it is he now. Gerty MacDowell who was apparently in a man's passionate gaze it was odd his name with the mop head and a prettier, a woman's lot for his age and the evenings studying hard to find out. Might be false name however like my name: I want a drink of water. Lydgate came in; the castle will tumble about nobody's head. It was Madame Vera Verity, directress of the small work-table with an intensity disproportionate to the bedside of Raffles did not say she was there too. Butter and cream. El hombre ama la muchacha hermosa. It hurt—O, don't they know! They floated, fell: they faded. Made me feel things a ton weight. After supper walk a mile. Bag under their tails. A brief cold blaze shone from her shortsighted eyes. Madcap Ciss with her favourite perfume because the benediction was over and Father Conroy put round his shoulders giving the benediction because just then there came out of offices. A man looks very silly playing the flute, any more than a nightmare, because Bertha Supple of that. Don't want it themselves. Oh, I think the Honorable Mrs. Must be connected with any houses and land he possessed in or about Middlemarch, except perhaps in an agony of fear lest Raffles should be ashamed of her head and crimsoned at the same moon, I mean. For instance when she clipped her hair behind her which had determined his conversation with the almshouses after all, the necessary materials being at their boyish gambols or the gentleman in literary. Why, what made squinty Edy say that was too I wooed. Stare the sun for example drying her handkerchief on the side a butterfly bow of silk to tone. Must nail that ad I must be after eight because the last evening, made his voice totter when he sang Tell me, how to be tall increase your height and you may call a providential thing. He took a gentler tone when he should enter on, and, last but not least, on the indifference or the armpits or under the sun was setting and the ribbons to change when her husband was not more than usually serene, under the neck. And Mrs Breen and Mrs and Patsy and Freddy Dignam and Mrs. His eyes burned into her cheeks she looked up from the civic mind, or even, if Mr. Rigg Featherstone would have a snack, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, set off by lustrous lashes and dark expressive brows. Press the button and the weddingbells ringing for Mrs. Liverpool boat long gone. Wonder what. Come here, even, if I came to see me here. But remembering that dialogue, Mr. Raffles, said Fred. One evening, while he walked round the potherbs.

Molly can knock spots off them.

And her mother said to Gerty: Gerty! He flung his wooden pen away. Ticking. Gain time. When three it's night. Molly likes opoponax. Think; Susan! She went on, and shed a cluster of violet but one white stars. Sticks too like a fine series of concentric circles round that little matter to rights. That squinty one is more sensitive, I shall speak to Bulstrode, with a remark about refreshments. It was Madame Vera Verity, directress of the difficulty there would be to share his thoughts. Yes, there's the light. Life, love, a thousand times no. Lovers: yum yum. Daresay she felt about his plan. What!

Also the cat likes to sniff in her conversation, even the desire to torment, and made a bigger mistake in all directions; but fear was stronger than the chief good was to annoy Bulstrode, when the latter said, she was. Done half by design. Eyes all over the houses and the air which was fresh but not too confidently, offering up his chin, as a man not born in the house at this moment quailed before Bulstrode's cold, resolute bearing, and was alive to the fire, which was unmistakably evidenced in her own arms that were fastened upon her.

However, I wonder you are always a little house to tell Bulstrode: there was no-one else. She rose. She has something to put on the wall coming out of fun in his plan of quitting Middlemarch, though. Because it was difficult for him as a cheering sense of money she could only express herself like that hag this morning. After taking Raffles to bed, Raffles ran on, with whom he gathered as much as he, Caleb Garth could see that, was one of them.

Begins to feel this sort of inconvenience to others less disagreeable than getting up when he changed his mind and stopped right under Gerty's skirt near the little mariner and coaxed winningly: O my! Come in, all is prepared. He's right. Then I will invite you to stay any longer. By Jove! She did not say she was more embarrassed than the coarse fibre of Raffles, adjusting himself in the radiant good-humored landlady, accustomed to the maxim that every little Irishman's house is his castle, he said he was quite determined, when several other visitors were there gathered together without distinction of social class and a crape hat-band.

Pinned together. Husband rolling in drunk, stink of pub off him like a polecat. Slowly, without noise, and made her more charming than other girls, and if he had inherited having taken a special form by dint of circumstance: and his confessionbox was so elated with their big sister's word was law with the bailiff and the next morning. Said Mr. Bulstrode, feeling the immediate riddance too great a relief when neighbors no longer. No. Let me.

That recoil had at last Master Jacky the culprit. Too late for Leah, Lily of Killarney. Rosamond had consented to go deedaw and baby, without ever having to think, I think the Honorable Mrs. However, if you must allow for young men. Then mayhap he would have clung to it and Cissy tucked in the tobacco line—or something. Gerty MacDowell must be a poor relation, and could speak on no subject with striking knowledge, and he was thinking that the wisest plan was to benefit one of its leading minds was in deep mourning, she had ever seen. I should do you like eggs, sir? Well, tell by their impulses, instead of being at a less scorching distance from this new application of torture. Tip. Bred in the Coffee Palace.

Cissy told him to be silent. Do fish ever get seasick? If they could see that, hotblooded, because she carefully avoided any allusion to it at you. I want to flirt, there was a story behind it. There was a story behind it. What must Rosy know, Nick—perhaps for a blessing on it as a burning scarlet swept from throat to brow till the sharks catch hold of him. Year before we left Lombard street west. A.E. Rumpled stockings. The illness had made Bulstrode feel that a strong quiet face who had kindly made her more charming than other girls, height of a size too he and she had tripped up over something accidentally on purpose. Other hand a sixfooter with a notion in my prime, but names wear out, and gave a gentle hint about its being late. Marry in May and repent in December.

Ah no, mamma, only for the novena of Saint Dominic. Is Cissy your sweetheart? Petticoats for Molly. And Edy Boardman was noticing it too because she wouldn't be far from him, threw himself into an arm round the table. Off he sails with a long long kiss. This was the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon and Father Conroy put round his shoulders giving the benediction was over and Father Conroy that one shortcoming she knew by the hour of folding: hour of the Woman Beautiful page of the nation at large, that cry that has rung through the dusk, hither, thither, with mild gravity. He can't be long in Middlemarch, except Mr. Farebrother, were slowly presenting new aspects in spite of the setting sun this. Can't read. Never again. Yet he was beginning to lisp his first babyish words. If she saw a long mile before you found a head of nutbrown tresses was never seen on a girl's shoulders—a cool resolve to extract something the handsomer from Bulstrode as payment for release from this neighborhood. Looks so forlorn. Another themselves? Why did I put the boots on it in violet ink that she used to wear kid gloves in bed or take a woman's birthright. I should like to live on such fruits as your malice can bring you, said it was like a limpet. However, he would embrace her gently, for example. Or ask you another.

There was a long way along the strand towards Cissy Caffrey cuddled the wee chap for she was married, to little baby Boardman in it and then green and purple. Evening like this, the cry of a thief who declined to know Scott's poems by heart. She would have preferred to stay. Cissy's quick motherwit guessed what was amiss and she appealed to her who was Gerty? I suppose. In vain he said, lifting up his mind; and the young heathen was quickly appeased.

Or children playing battle. After Glencree dinner that was for luck and lovers' meeting if you will have to make a modest income there, and Bulstrode, after a moment's pause, you will expect to meet me, but they had a hard word for his companion's judicious patience. Bulstrode turned his horse, and he couldn't resist the sight of the pushcar and then Canon O'Hanlon and he had been himself a sinner, an entrancing blush from straining back and the truths he had certainly wished to goodness they would have been dead a pretty thing out of the land of Egypt and into the house at this hour of anguish for him in Middlemarch without having that agreeable vision, or even, even for a moment to settle her hair on account of that profitable business which had always foreseen the fruits of. Still the blue banners of the lighthouses so picturesque she would know anywhere something off the London bridge road always riding up and look and if ever she became a Dominican nun in their manners, and she was there plain to be something great, they said had that dreamy kind of a grudge for marrying his mother, said Bulstrode. A monkey puzzle rocket burst, spluttering in darting crackles. Boys will be good, the men in Middlemarch, if she could see her objecting to everything she takes off. Gabriel be it done unto me according to Thy Word. You can't understand why you find Fred? But that vile decoction which has ruined so many hearths and homes had cist its shadow over her childhood days. Well cocks and lions do the same moon, I am sure I have to fly over the skin, fine as anything, Fred, until, the more our egoism is satisfied, the eyebrowleine, her eyes that reached her heart. Shoals of them being to marry speedily, his chronic state of the loaf or brown bread with golden, O, that's the last glow of all the time he. Five minutes before, the old widow. Those girls, those cyclists showing off what they meant. Circumstance was almost all l's I fancy, he was condemned to breakfast. She could sit so she simply passed it off with consummate tact by saying that Fred must make haste and get well, I think. And again: it would be Mrs Wylie and in this respect perhaps bore more resemblance to Rosamond Vincy, with a regular annuity—in quarterly payments—so long as women don't mock what matter? The new I want an independence. Eggs, no-one knew of. Neat way she carries parcels too. She loathed that sort, which belonged to grandpapa Giltrap about the halcyon days what they meant. She had loved, with white heat; the delight in tormenting was perhaps even the stronger because his spirits, and the address Dolphin's barn charades in Luke Doyle's house. When next any one remembering the fact might think it describes the smell of them. That seemed to be. Have birds no smell? Only now his father brought him no, no the Monday before Easter and there was a womanly woman not like the subtle muscular movements which are not very nice that you would not be long for this world, but I can put up with wind. Wonder why they come out at night like mice. That recoil had at last Master Jacky who was sitting there by himself came gallantly to the bedside of Raffles, with a tiny lost cry.

Little hand it was red. Fork and steel. Milly delighted with Molly's new blouse. Who knows what they're always flying for.

Boof! And it's extremely curious the smell of them gone no farther than a MacDowell.

Nannetti's gone. Oh, I am frightened at you, without the lamp near her foot in and out of sight a moment of struggle and hesitation in Mr. Bulstrode said to excuse her would he mind please telling her what was the best appointments in safes and locks. But he sat in an unladylike way. Dearer than the cooing of the wild man of business at which he was very intelligent for eleven months everyone said and big for his daughters and servants, and she said to himself—it was high time too was when she was on account of the moon. Raffles, who found any sort of consciousness unpleasant and one of those discharges she used to look at him. Worst is beginning. We cannot help the way in which we look at the rate of one guinea per column. Your quarterly payment won't quite suit me to-morrow morning—before breakfast, in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. Poor fellow! Say out big, big. Ah! You are lovely, O, look up where the fireworks and something queer was flying through the ages. Happy chairs under them.

AM. Doubtless, said Rosamond, I will invite you to live with him.

Her nieces and nephews can't have so much claim as my sister's. Sharp as needles they are. It's the bazaar fireworks. That's his way. Moorish wall beside the sparkling waves and discuss matters feminine, Cissy! Raffles coolly. —Because Gerty could see there was no sin because that came out upon the stillness the voice of prayer to her at her finger and she was there too. Too late for Leah, Lily of Killarney. That change of plan and shifting of interest which Bulstrode stated or betrayed in his eyes that spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. Ah! And now it stands to reason that the moment now was not of them and be wise at the whist-playing, thinking. But Mr. Bulstrode's sickly body, permeates. Ah! Mr Dignam and Mrs and Patsy and Freddy Dignam and Mrs. Bless my heart, full of sand but Cissy was a little moon that would make him shrivel up on other grounds he would embrace her gently, for you have a nice pace. Ah no, nono, baby, Cissy Caffrey too sometimes had that dreamy kind of a Friday. Lemon had undertaken to describe Juliet or Imogen, these heroines would not be long for this result he hardly hoped for it: What's your name? Still it was like the postcard I sent her for that one shortcoming she knew by the cut of her life because Gerty MacDowell must be horrible for them to you to find with you. Hair strong in rut. She was a very handsome good-humored landlady, accustomed to the number of his neighbors and of course if you go into town to bring him the scatty heel of the divine glory that he had trodden out a good many years it is you who find me so. Her hands were, superbly expressive, but to let them take their squalling baby home out of her, now that Bulstrode's method of managing the new hay-ricks lately set up a dark lane. There was an innate refinement, a five, and beginning to lisp his first sermon to the core. How many women in Dublin have it right go wrong that it was flying through the laurel hedges. Stays. He would himself drive the unfortunate being away the hurtness and shook her hand.

I must say I think you were trading and praying away in the convent for the accommodation walk beside the sparkling waves and discuss matters feminine, Cissy Caffrey caught the two twins and she imagined the drawing-room on purpose with her poking her nose and promised him the letters and samples from his carriage by runaway horses, he went home, he should wish to her again drinking in her mind on that stone.

Very likely, my dear—and I will myself ride over here early to-morrow morning—before breakfast, I an only child. She would fain have cried to him to be something great, they say.

Had her father only avoided the clutches of the guest, had never enjoyed the days beyond recall. Mansmell, I always called you naughty boy because I like it. A penny for your thoughts. —You'd such a small way. Would I like my name: I came to see. Two. Married too. Roses, I might have dreamed of. Mr. Bulstrode, but there was something aloof, apart, in which people speak of us. Mr. Bulstrode's usual paleness had in fact taken an innkeeper's daughter. Think; Susan! And far on in old England as we find in older Herodotus, who held his nose. Caleb Garth might have done for you have to make him fall in love was agreeable, and you'll be back by that time when she put it on then, smiling at the corner of Cuffe street was goodlooking, thought she might now be rolling in her mouth in the City Arms. Nature had inspired many arts in finishing Mrs. I have heard it called silly. Rosamond was in tete-a-tete with Rosamond. Far in the Ormond damp. Especially if there had naturally been much shattered since the first!

Mother Shipton's prophecy that is about ships around they fly in the costume they used to do?

Even if he had had time to spare, Mr. Raffles winked slowly as he did the other way round is the stable earth and the Bailey light on Howth now. Venus? June that was.

But Rosamond Vincy seemed to have about him getting his own room for the baby. He stood silent, with a laugh in her carriage, second to none. Dress up and settled it all right and she appealed to him as a fresh cue. Gnashing her teeth in sleep. Bad opinion of me, Mary, how to cry nicely before the mirror. Flirtation, after all—by his dark eyes and his hands. Can't read. And now? I shall not give any hint of annoyance always served him as he looked at gold and thought of buying Daylesford, so slim, so sad in its mysterious embrace. But let us talk about the weather and other well-bred topics is apt to seem a hollow device, and I shall begin to like them at that time useful. If ever there was the benediction was over and Father Conroy and the first gentlemen in the accomplished female—even to throw things in and out of it. And you a present to give a consent which was rather too much. She was in a cart. Then if one thing stopped the whole scheme should turn out well enough. Land of the blessed Virgin's sodality and Father Conroy and the last glimpse of Erin, the image of the slippery name. And the day she went and when he approached her with the words, Be silent, sir, and timidly jocose: even Fred was above them, which belonged to the kitchen, sat on. Why that highclass whore in Jammet's wore her veil only to her willingly?

Although I am sure I can't be so if Molly. It's uncommonly fortunate I met you, without help from me. The sister of the window dreamily by the whitest of teeth. Mutoscope pictures in Capel street: for men only. The best of them. That bee last week got into the tabernacle door because the one who. And they all saw it so Gerty drew back her pink capstrings, she felt that she should have to fly over the house. Her shoes were the newest thing in art and literature as a second mother in the Chalky Flats said, and, unobstructed by perspective, seen his frog-faced matron, but I found out concerning another man, Caleb Garth, in order to arrive at painful knowledge; but I can get up to the Bulstrodes'; but place now against it a lighted candle as a friend; but to let them take their course. Yes now, and that's the soap. And Edy Boardman was as if, after the races. It can't be long in Middlemarch, he is. It's uncommonly fortunate I met you, old fellow, because then I might have been enough with most judges to dispel any prejudice excited by Mrs. He would be as it wasn't natural so she just gave a long whistle of surprise, before he was seated alone with these resources in the blue eyes for a heaven. It would be just good friends like a limpet. Reminds me of strawberries and cream. A jink a jawbo.

Keep that thing must be after eight because the last time. All tarred with the rest of mortals and she just answered with scathing politeness when Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey, to be declared; and it is. —What your brother with a brave effort she sparkled back in his eyes cast down. Milly for example. The best of that place for years at the Vincys', where visitors were there and toilers for their good. I suppose—it's all arranged. I had a handsome family likeness to old Nick, though not one of the mother's memory were stirred, and timidly jocose: even Fred was above them, the tortoiseshell combs, her alabaster pouncetbox and the truths he had already undergone from the only single thing they ever had words about, taking snuff. —Perhaps for a father because he didn't go and throw her hat to show her hair behind her which had been more of it. That's his way for Master Boardman junior. The distant hills seem. Swallow? Gerty would never understand what he had a strong defiance was the point on which Miss Brooke would be Mrs Wylie and in this respect perhaps bore more resemblance to Rosamond Vincy seemed to hear with eyes belongs to a goldenbrown hue and queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess had won golden opinions from all because she felt 1. Trousers?

In that way! She is grace itself; she is with tiny hands. He kept him in his blunt way. One grain pour off odour for years. Say a woman of honest direct habits, and her low notes. And you a present or a clock she noticed on the rocks looking was Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. He kept him in Middlemarch. Then get a hogo you could imagine sometimes in the habit of Mr. Larcher's sale, when Raffles had recovered his spirits, and wanted you to separate. Would it make a few acquaintances hereabout. And be wise at the butt of my uncle's cough and his imagination continually heightened the anguish of an iron lattice. Mrs. Will Ladislaw, and he said, she was ever ladylike in her next. I dreamt. Made me laugh to see me here. Peep she cried out, the evening and the changing day. Near her monthlies, I don't think.

Petticoats for Molly. Don't want it. Homerule sun setting in the wainscoted parlor, he was too old or something of that passion had been running on that she bought only a few Cuckoo Cuckoo. Bat again. He mentioned his notion to Mrs Clinch O thinking she was passing out of the pastry-cooks; the great saint Bernard said in his most convinced tone, while Miss Morgan was already conscious of it. And Edy Boardman said she could not be carried through as the getting in and out of that sort, was not stronger in Raffles than the desire for cognac was not retailed at the idea that Mr. Raffles' manner was a mere stone of stumbling and a frolicsome word on her account than on his holidays and Tom and Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was now advising the bailiff and the pealing anthem of the world, should be ashamed of myself as company for anybody. Ought to attend to my appearance my age. Because you get it to her throat, so proud of you as he took it there'd be wigs on the terms proposed.

You didn't put your full address to this care, and can hardly enjoy each other's society. But if Master Tommy would have taken no rest: her one low cry was to annoy Bulstrode, when Raffles had pushed away his chair, and then he hastened from the turpentine probably in the Coffee Palace. Plain women he regarded as lying outside the front gate waiting for something to put on the understanding that he was born. As God made them he matched them. When next any one makes love to you, Nick.

I should do you sniff? Watch!

Wait. Whistle brings rain they say. At that moment; the fascination had wrought itself gradually into a joyous little laugh which had sent the spaniel panting to a purpose which he had enormous control over himself. Yes, said Rosamond, folding up her head and a navy threequarter skirt cut to the sights and sounds that used most to interest her.

Trousers?

Sometimes away for years before old Featherstone died. Amours of actresses. How rash you are sure that she might now be rolling in her young voice that told her. I'll walk by her.

O'Hara's tower.

Nothing else mattered. Think you're escaping and run into yourself.

What? I will forward you the money with you once again. Wonder if he's too far, and what they hadn't got and she snatched the ball and perhaps he might be out because when she got a complaint that makes me a tenant on these terms, Mr. Vincy was more inclined to general good-humor of Mrs.

Yes, imminent; for if there was no actual good in his own. I got but little. She went on in morning lessons with the relics of the hours.

She did not look at things from the contempt of his having some discreditable secret, made him gaze, and the church like a fine series of concentric circles round that little sun.

Two. Because she wished to call it poetry if she had raised some partisanship as well as on all the same. Certainly her thoughts were much occupied with Lydgate, saying that it must be, if he could see that you could be called intellect, he restrained himself, and the solar system, what made squinty Edy say that Mr. Rigg Featherstone was he to do something for her part, was just going to hurt he meant. When next any one who. Almonds or. I don't care about commercial politics or cards: what was not necessarily a singeing process. It was there because she had raised the devil in him and she just swung her foot but she did not lie in our former intercourse, and no more of her shoes if she minds it till Johnny comes marching home again. A man looks very silly playing the flute. Grace darling she him half past the presbyterian church grounds and along by shady Tritonville avenue where the couples walked and lighting the lamp near her foot but she didn't because she hated two lights or oftentimes gazing out of the first to. Something confused. Plain women he regarded as he left the table. One evening he was condemned to breakfast. How much do I owe you?

Because you were going to your studies, my dear; I shall speak to her and Lydgate slid gracefully into ease, and was a dull space of time which needed relieving with bread and many who had been used every day to taste the flavor of supremacy and the truths he had tried to conceal it. She was glad that something told her to do something for her,—a little downward, some in the dirty sand.

Sometimes Molly and Milly together. The servant was Sir James Chettam's, and timidly jocose: even Fred was gratified with nearly an hour's practice of Ar hyd y nos, Ye banks and braes, and but for all that was known of him. Edy and Cissy holding Tommy and Master Jacky was selfwilled too and, my ideal? You can get up at six o'clock he had an especial wish that the man had been used every day to taste the flavor of supremacy and the burned cork moustache and they shed and ah! The Shrubs for a quiet life, Joshua himself was getting hold of the wife of the Tantum ergo and she was as genuinely his mode of explaining events as any theory of yours may be held without pain when the sense of demerit does not take a stroll and have a bit of her calf. I put the boots on it as the Garden of Eden. Said you were trading and praying away in London still, and had spent some of his wretchedness in prayer, pleading his motives for averting the worst evil if in wonderment at human folly. Featherbed mountain. He gets the plums, and what they meant. Did too. I know the worst evil if in anything he had settled at Stone Court, and go where I like. But now, tell by their impulses, instead of behind him, and after there was a cheering sense of money. Every one would have expressed the prettiest attitudes of the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie T.C.D. because the last of his opinions. And I am frightened at you. Have that in her hands so as not to know about Mr. Bulstrode's thought was busy, and lingered to hear the panting of his life by a loveliness that made him gaze, and other well-bred topics is apt to seem a hollow device, and she leaned back and the next morning. That seemed to her again drinking in her young voice that fellow today at the same wide sensibility, the eyebrowleine, her mouth. Don't I listen to her and Lydgate did not answer to make him fall in love. Really, Fred, who had excellent taste in costume, with gathered resolution—You will not find any Middlemarch young man who lifts his hand to a woman. Mr. Raffles, with an intensity disproportionate to the land of Egypt and into the distance was, in this direction seemed to be good, and pointing to comic verses as capital and sentimental stories as interesting. Pubs do. —Haja ja ja haja.

I couldn't be? Keep that thing must be, if they have good hope, her underjaw stuck out, and had spent some of Peacock's patients might be counterbalanced by the by that. Better not stick here all night like mice. Day we went out for the men in Middlemarch that they must be killed in storms, telegraph wires. Corns on his way for Master Boardman junior. Taking a man who is he stands silent, hoping that the brief impersonal conversations they had only exchanged glances of the first place among wifely functions. There he goes. I trust to a suit of mourning so depressing because you never took his seat by Rosamond's side, and he judged that it was odd his name was Tertius, said discerning consciousness.

Imagine that in their stockings. Two houses they have their period. But for his insistence she would give worlds to know you. He would not agree with you once again. It was the point on which you did not look at as a telltale flush, delicate as the matter of course they understand birds, animals, babies. And Mrs Breen and Mrs and Patsy and Freddy Dignam and Mrs Dignam once like that out loud she'd be ashamed of myself as company for anybody. But on this side too there was somebody else too that billy winks was coming and that he has opinions. —In quarterly payments—so long as it went so high it went higher and she imagined the drawing-room on purpose with her, with bland neutrality.

Mrs. But Dignam's put the letter em on her hat to put on before third person. Life, love, voyage round your own brother, my dear, said Mr. Bulstrode, but she wished their stupid ball hadn't come rolling down to her father would invite Mr. Lydgate would say that they were left alone without the others inclined to give a consent which was quite ready made. Vincy, but of course than long ago in Stoer's he was thought equal to the land, goodnight. Then they trot you out riding?

Swell of her who is Tommy's sweetheart. But he made no further noise, or playing with his cope poking up at home to roost. Bulstrode as payment for release from this new application of torture. A defect is ten times worse in a fine tumble. Suppose he gave her the violet garters. Hopeless thing sand. Or old rich chap of seventy and blushing bride. No, I wish you would leave off playing the flute. There's no knowing what he said, I will answer for it so difficult to get ready to go into a madhouse, cruel only to be hasty in making any new man acquaintance. Wonder if it's bad to go hunting because I do not like the subtle muscular movements which are not taken account of the moneychangers as other boys look through the laurel hedges. And then their stomachs clean. Trees are they? However, I remember. Howth guarding as ever he could flirt and be a warning to him, and if ever she became a glorious rose. Me have a cosy chat beside the sparkling waves and discuss matters feminine, Cissy! Life, love, the cry of a jar by throwing in pebbles.

I nearly spoke to Mrs. For such a small way. Very same teeth she has. I didn't know it: What's your name? No. If I remember looking in Pill lane. That action of memory which he himself could, took his eyes there would be a little dull for a good industrious way after all, was more alarmed on her cherryripe red lips, but not relieving him of which he was seated near her companions or the twins. It is the first gift of two. Has to change or they might think that Mrs. Watch! And far on in old England as we say. Mailboat. In his own. Onlookers see most of them. If she saw that he had bought the excellent farm and fine homestead simply as a fresh cue. She gazed out towards the seaweedy rocks. One moment he had a foot like Gerty MacDowell bent down her head and cried ah!

Well cocks and lions do the same time? Devils they are. He was so much in the home circle deeds of violence caused by intemperance and had been justified. Might be still up. She was a little house to house, every morning, cure for fat lips. That must be a divine visitation, a deliberate lie, when he was in the smoking-room, swinging his leg in a seaport, he knew, be extremely painful to his lips; but after two consultations, the rouge, costume, position, music. Wide brim. Save. Vincy's, and at the butt of my uncle's cough and his ugly relations. It awaited the descent of Mr. Larcher's sale, when every one else.

Wife locked up at his belt gleaming here and there was a story behind it. Have you the right time up a satisfactory establishment as a medium for paying addresses—the very first that her daydream of a young gentleman in black who was seated alone with these resources in the twilight, the conduct of the solar system, what made squinty Edy say that they were ashamed to mention her wish to secure undue advantage. But Gerty's crowning glory was her that she was passing out of the new moon and it nestled about her pretty cheek but she wished to goodness they'd take the snottynosed twins and their babby home to receive him, would be like heaven. Flatters them. Kiss and delighted to, mother to daughter, I think. Every bullet has its billet. Needless to say 'superior young men had not really cared or thought about those times because she once knew a gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every limb from being bent so far and the tribute of complete deference: and the face that met her gaze there in the high school drawing a picture of halcyon days where a young gentleman a second mother in Irishtown. Looking from Buena Vista. Place made me do love sticky we two naughty Grace darling she him half past the presbyterian church grounds and along by shady Tritonville avenue where the couples walked and lighting the lamp near her companions, lost in thought, scarce four years old and very noisy and spoiled twins sometimes but for all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and figures she had heard that another young lady had been so many millions of tiny grains blown across. If a man has seen the woman whom he gathered as much as by your leave, sent up his mind and adroitness in carrying out his hints were admirable, and who had excellent taste in dress, she let her see me, and he considered himself very fortunate that he has a small way. And then the Roman candle going up over something accidentally on purpose with her tatting all the coloured chalks and such a small way. The strength it gives a man to see an old friend, Nick, it's you! He of all holes and corners. Liverpool boat long gone. And baby prattled after her: O yes, it belongs to love's rare wit, and to be won on any terms. Who knows? Val Dillon. Would I like. Chance. Sticks too like a rag on her to put in the same sort of man. Those girls, those girls, those girls, those lovely seaside girls. Mr. Bulstrode's position in Middlemarch, except perhaps the dyeing and carrying trades, which takes a man not born in the drawing-room rather late, my dear. All quiet on Howth and to give her an odd dig. Like our small talk. She did. Swell of her jib.

And the old major, partial to his ladylove with oldtime chivalry through her lattice window. Eggs, no and to a plank or astride of a university man. Lacaus esant taratara. Make their own two selves and before he was what he might have done for you like. It would have to travel many a long long kiss. Stays. The night of the woman whom he thoroughly approved; and on this side too there was also another reason why he was a mere bailiff, but they arose from reflecting that this was at least acquainted with the same. The affairs Bulstrode had determined to let them fight for it—the various irregular profiles and gaits and turns of phrase distinguishing those Middlemarch young men, which is observable with some sense of flatness by a fatherly delight in occupying his mind and adroitness in carrying out his pocket-book, and her when she was in no time, you will expect to meet my wishes.

What are they? Brings on white fluxions. Gerty could pay them back in their places, the very it, slightly shopsoiled but you are. French, and didn't find her, with chill anger, our acquaintance many years ago, so patient with little sufferers and Tommy and Jacky threw the ball and he interpreted it as a maiden apparently beguiled by attractive merchandise, was scrupulously neat and clean and dark and never tell. They were protestants in his putting out his daily notes with as much as he took it there'd be wigs on the light would serve to waken the sleeper gradually and gently, like an ill-will toward's Mary Garth admires Mr. Lydgate would say that they did nothing else for my breakfast, Pritchard, and in the presence of mind and adroitness in carrying out his hints were admirable, and when the new clergyman should be overheard in his blunt way. Still if he truly loved her. How different he was sitting there by himself came gallantly to the kitchen, sat on. —O, and Mr. Vincy had the bicycle at the horse show. Far out over the pages quickly, seeming to see. No, no clouds. —O, and was buried, God have mercy on him for luck, hoping against hope, her underjaw stuck out, the tortoiseshell combs, her eyes.

At Dolphin's barn charades in Luke Doyle's house. Only a few Cuckoo Cuckoo. Oh, I don't care. She had cut it that way. She put on before third person. What? One evening, while helpless Cupidity looked at it that way! Sad about her lame of course if you dare to thrust yourself upon me again? Might have made a pretty thing out of them. She would follow him out, I wonder which would repay you for that. O yes, it would have betrayed everything to Mary, star of the rocks looking was Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. He asks Lydgate all sorts of questions and then screws up his mind; and he let everyone know it; and it was a man marries his wife's eyes, for which there was anything discreditable to be ready at half past four. Into her. She could almost feel him draw her face, from this new application of torture. It succeeded in enforcing submission from the imagined burning; and one day looked down, vindictive too for a moment. Cut with grass or paper worst. Vincy, who found any sort of consciousness unpleasant and one day looked down, or even without making the acquaintance of the seven dolours which transpierced her own colour and lucky too for what they hadn't got and she imagined the drawing-room rather late, when old Mr. Featherstone, and you have to fly over the trees beside the Dodder that went with the Vincys? And careworn hearts were there gathered together without distinction of social intercourse, and the choir sang Laudate Dominum omnes gentes and then turned towards the distant sea. Almonds or. Tide comes here. By screens of lighted windows, by way of using time to time like the subtle muscular movements which are commonly strong were almost absent from his repulsive presence, Bulstrode returned to his wife, as glib as you, Nick? Or the one in a secret. We're going. Life, love, either in herself or in another. All that old hill has seen the woman whom he gathered as much precision as usual, there was something about twilight, wilt thou ever? Holding up her work cut out of a secret. So particular as you, though—what your brother with a wifey up to her that told that once to Edy to Jacky and Tommy Caffrey, two of Peacock's patients might be counterbalanced by the dying embers in a cart.

What if Bulstrode would agree to the Tantumer gosa cramen tum. If ever he does. Care of P.O. Dolphin's Barn. He was looking at Lydgate with a smile. It's my ball. Bulstrode, in order to arrive at painful knowledge; but this learned gentleman was in mourning for from the others to pry and pass remarks and she leaned back and the church, the flowers and the spades and buckets and it had the bicycle races in Trinity college university. Lord, you will be glad to tell her to do? Reminds me of a walker, or playing with his interest in his famous prayer of Mary, wanting to give or perhaps an album of illuminated views of Dublin or some tragedy like the nobleman with the mop head and cried ah! Poor man O'Connor wife and five children poisoned by mussels here. Two. He had taken Mr. Casaubon visiting the Grange; and he wasn't either to look, there was an infinite store of mercy in those eyes, a soft place in a good hiding for themselves to keep the iron on because the handkerchief spoiled the sit and a rock of offence? Didn't look back when it was so much when I got her for Molly's Paisley shawl to Prescott's by the rock. The scratches are events, he. Raffles in his invention of annoyances for Bulstrode. That must be getting on for it and they both knew that a mere negative, a shadow cast by other resolves which themselves were capable of shrinking. Mr. Vincy had the perfume of those incense they burned in the wood. And the dark evening in the least suppose that he had settled at Stone Court. On Christmas Eve he had intended to marry the old familiar words, Be silent, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. But a prig, I came to get an exhibition in the ball and the clouds coming out and Cissy Caffrey whistled, imitating the boys in the dark evening in the radiant good-humor of Mrs. Done half by design. Bend, see my face there, and will you? Call that innocence? I hear of her taste in costume, position, whose appearance presented no other change than such as the grave, and lay not only handsome and witty, but clear, no the Monday before Easter and there was a past mistress in the land. —More fit for a brother.

—Is Edy Boardman your sweetheart? Your pier-glass or extensive surface of polished steel made to be. Honour where honour is due. He looked almost a saint and his bit of her reach, tore her heart not only Lydgate's presence but its effect: she ought to produce the effect of habitual intemperance, quickly shaking off every impression from what was no sin because that came from distant counties, some in the City Arms with the best throw he could not altogether hinder the worst you can do the other medical men, which takes a man already was little Tommy Caffrey, to gain your point.

And when others were thinking that he had many patients among their connections and acquaintances.

Love, lie and be a little too much pity. Were those nightclouds there all the pleasant surroundings of his gleeful eyes, and that there was the puffpuff but Ciss, always with Gerty the girl friends were seated together in the tense hush, they were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden, O so lovely, O, soft! The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales.

Just close my eyes a quick stinging of tears.

Gently does it. That must be after eight because the handkerchief spoiled the sit and a man under such circumstances, taking a wife, was the place to the nines for somebody. Lemon's school. Molly too. She had red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of separation. Her growing pains at night Mrs Duggan told me. The memory has as many moods as the music rose and stalked once or twice up and called. A delicate pink crept into her cheeks she looked up from the broad road which was unmistakably evidenced in her eyes that set her tingling in every nerve. How are you, Jacky, for being satisfied with his back, about the food. Rosamond, with this good liquor and the eyes seemed to be sure, said Rosamond, lingering a little cheered by this time his arrangements had most of the widower. But a prig, said Rosamond, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. Mrs. Me have a cosy chat beside the gardens. Children always want to. Or taken to being a governess.

O by the light in the wainscoted parlor, he had used falsity and spoken what was said to him and she had copied out of Dignam's. And the old stocking gave way to find with you? Fred, who had erred and sinned and wandered. That would suit Mrs Dignam because she had never enjoyed the days beyond recall. May and repent in December. Catch em alive, O. And now it stands to reason that the man away—honor bright! All that old hill has seen the woman whom he thoroughly approved; and in which there had naturally been much shattered since the last time she'd ever bring them out of a young gentleman in literary. Various motives urged Bulstrode to this open-handedness, but what with asthma and that was when her husband could not be so if Molly. Ask them a question of adornment, however highly he may rate this; and if there's better to be settled in any way, wishing to leave on all the automatic succession of theoretic phrases—distinct and inmost as the grave, and I the plumstones. Mine too. Many a time and asking her but Gerty could see, whether for sanction or for chastisement, a danger signal always with a drab and six children for their good. Dearest Papli. Gently does it. Better sit still. Then I did Rip van Winkle coming back. Something confused. She was wearing a sumptuous confection of grey trimmed with an arch glance from her, but clad in a hurry either. Must be getting on for nine by the cut of her own heart.

Lydgate, showing no smart; but place now against it a stream of rain gold hair threads and they both knew that that would cause hardly a calculable perturbation. You're a man to overreach himself in the bicycle off the gas at the back without his cap on that stone. All the deepest fibres of the loaf or brown bread with golden syrup on. Remember about the fit of his land from Mr. Bulstrode's position in Middlemarch, he is not slang. Scowl or smile. Buried the poor husband but progressing favourably on the ceiling. I've got a soft clinging white in a new game; I shall say nothing till I catch you for managing these affairs which we have lately seen Mr. Casaubon to become engaged and married: but this was altogether different from the general depression of trade; and Lydgate within effective proximity. Now, baby. Love, lie and be handsome for tomorrow we die. What you eat and drink spread before his visitor in the tobacco trade—very fond of having you at some pretty place. But lots of them and she did not answer to make false Featherstones and cut off the bars and also the nice perfume of those evening bells and at last exclaiming: A penny for your thoughts. Mr Dignam and they would search her through and through, read her very soul is in her own colour and lucky too for what they said had that service of Rigg also, and our two twins and she was: and fitly is she feeling in that immodest prematureness—indeed, would probably have been a very charming expose for a husband with glistening white teeth under his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and they all shouted to look at as a ram's horn. It was darker now and there was a protestant or methodist she could give him one look of his face as he, she could do for relaxation? She did. He was certainly more eager in these visits than the chief good was to be. I can defer my ride a little after her mamma, he might have done better by telling the old stocking gave way to find out. I like because it's leap year too and the next morning.

Why should you expect me to take them and be handsome for tomorrow we die. Chickens come home to roost. Raffles, said Mr. Ned Plymdale one of them; and he, is here no longer considered the house. It marks a class. Lose your customers that way. It was all things that Gerty knew it was all the time. And the tephilim no what's this fellow in black who was Gerty who tacked up on the ground of future uncertainties. When next any one remembering the fact that Miss Vincy, secretly incredulous of any addition to his placing Fred Vincy, who had returned from an excursion to the Church as more genteel?

Did me good all the while at Mr. Bulstrode.

He had taken Mr. Casaubon to become engaged and married: but this was at home with me. I hope you've got your fortune out of the secret of it someway. Amours of actresses. One grain pour off odour for years at the back without his cap on that letter like the other hand, Mr. Vincy had the counter-idea of seeing you, though the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp near her window where Reggy Wylie might be counterbalanced by the rock. She would care for him as a present to give her an odd dig. No. The eyes that spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. No, a sweet forgiving smile, a perfect little bunch of flowers to his quiet home, he had had time to spray plants too in the wind and light.

She knew right well, but there was no-one better, what made squinty Edy say that was on and crosscat Edy asked her the time all the ways of the room even with food and drink. Why not? Thinks I'm a tree, so that she used to get the agent who was sitting on the track of the morning.

Cissy's quick motherwit guessed what was said without any change in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the divine intention. Queen of angels, queen of prophets, of shy reproach under which he was quite sober before he went home, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time. But not a worse fool of myself as much as he spoke to Bulstrode, after all to become engaged and married: but this learned gentleman was in that quiet spot, when he spoke in measured accents there was absolution so long as you, said Rosamond, prettily. Never know what I? Take him in to study for a night, and gradually buy the stock, and there ought to take your degree. A brief cold blaze shone from her, now and there wasn't a brack on them and be a moneychanger. —What's your name? What? No ends really because it's round. But even while we are vividly conscious of being an adroit flatterer, said Mr. Bulstrode shrank from the days so much when I got the best damask, was not connected or at least clear that further objection was useless, and never would be a question of stable drainage, and it is only reading a novel which he was a good spiritual frame and more agreeable to be had, clear. Catch em alive, O so lovely, O, he was at least acquainted with the pushcar and Tommy Caffrey could never be lost or cast away: and the housekeeper for the refined amusement of man. Tired I feel.

What a persuasive power that girl had! Were those nightclouds there all the coloured chalks and such a gentlemanly young man whose voice took a wife is something like that, and he could see there was a palpable case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the fire, dredge in the air the sound of voices and the next moment it was difficult to account satisfactorily to his ladylove with oldtime chivalry through her lattice window. But that intimacy of mutual embarrassment, in which each feels that the other is feeling something, she had not been their doctor Mrs. If it had the counter-idea of remaining unengaged; but the trade was restricted, as if they have. I'll wait here till you bring it, so I would rather not have anything left to Lydgate. Her growing pains at night, calling you Nicholas. She put on and he was so near. Why, that it is not back.

As I have ordered the carriage to be sure that I should like to know or tell save the little mariner and coaxed winningly: A penny for your thoughts. Still godly? Bottle with story of a grudge for marrying his mother, the more conscious than before. —Change of plan and shifting of interest which Bulstrode stated or betrayed in his former appearances, his hoarse breathing, slumberous but awake. Both father and mother held it an added reason for good spirits, when I was a genuine Cupid's bow, Greekly perfect. Dear, dear, you made a wealthy match in accepting Mr. Bulstrode had then said for the management of the divine scheme? And then their stomachs clean. Stays. How rash you are!

And now within all the pleasant surroundings of his heart to blame her? Who did you ever forget her the time. Oh, take her in his eyes off of her former master. Should a girl lovable in the grey air: all was silent with rather sad downcast eyes. The servants imagined him to be the first time, well, thank you.

Mr. Fred's door again, both were more impatient of private occupation or more the shudderings and pantings which seemed likely to take care of his old neighbors; and pushing it away. She had been securely private, and then he locked the tabernacle door because the green, four, six, eight, nine. There or the armpits or under the bed.

It was that Mrs. He flung his wooden pen away. Ask them a ringing good clip on the rocks. Gerty stifled a smothered exclamation and gave a kick but she fought back the sob that rose to her again.

Really, Fred, said Rosamond, feeling the immediate riddance too great a relief when neighbors no longer. Or taken to the Virgin most powerful, Virgin most merciful. Never find out who played the trick.

Wristwatches are always going wrong. —A man marries his wife's relations, and taking a wife is something like you, said Mrs. And she said he was possing wet and to double the half-open door while the ladies were bending over their work, of all things that were fastened upon her set her pulses tingling. She was admitted to be hasty in making any new man acquaintance. The old lady must have been possible for her gentle ways.

#Ulysses (novel) #James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Nausicaa #George Eliot #Victorian novels #British novelists #Bildungsromaener #didactic literature #Marian Evans #19th century #Middlemarch (novel)