#i just *sheds one tear* love rose in this book so much
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"so love me. show me that you mean it."
"pardon?" lyney said, wide eyes speaking volumes of his bewilderment. you stood in front of him, remaining unfazed as the two of you spoke in the empty backstage of the opera epiclese, where no one would disturb the conversation you two held.
"you said you love me, didn't you?" purple clashes with yours, "yet you kept so many things from me... to think you'd be part of the fatui out of every organization...!" your voice trembled, so did your hands as your nails dug against your palms. lyney wanted to speak, his lips moved yet no voice could be heard.
"you promised to fix things between us... you promised to heal me, to gain back my trust! but after the events lately, i don't think it's possible to trust you again so easily." lyney's voice came, "i- i know... and i know that an apology wouldn't fix things so easily..."
tears adorned your eyes, threatening to fall yet you don't let yourself shed a tear. "so show me that you mean it. no more lies, no more deception... i don't want the lyney who had kept so much from me. i don't want the lyney who wasn't the actual lyney i knew to the point i questioned every aspect of our relationship if it was genuine or not."
"and i don't want us back if you don't trust me enough to tell me everything about you like i trusted you wholeheartedly with my life on the line..."
lyney stood frozen in front of you, a myriad of emotions ran wild to the point he wasn't able to identify the suffocating feeling he was experiencing. you were his rose, his beloved rose. but all roses have thorns, and your thorns have crushed his heart in your hold.
but you were right, to an extent that all lyney wished was to go back and make everything right, to show that he actually loves you. but time was irreversible, and he shouldn't be wishing to fix the broken past, as fixing the shattered pieces of diamond was nearly impossible.
he should be fixing the present, his and your relationship.
lyney remembered it like yesterday, the order he received from his "father" to watch you, observe you, and to deceive you.
he remembered nothing but the mission in mind, to him, you were nothing but a task, a job lyney had to finish.
the interactions, conversations, and moments you two shared slowly increased to something becoming more frequent. yet to lyney, all he had in mind was his "father's" mission.
and like the quick flow of time, like clockwork, your relationship became more than just prey and predator. to lyney, you began to be more than just a task, a mission.
a friend, a loved one.
and suddenly, like the quick turn of pages in a book, you two became so much more than a close friend. lips on lips, skin on skin. loving affirmations were exchanged and the cob had found its pen, two lovers resembling those of swans, genuine and beautiful.
but everything went too quick, the prophecy, the primordial sea, the serial disappearances of young women, and the trial. and lyney faces the broken string of his and your relationship, the very thing he feared and wished for it to become nothing but a fleeting thought, a fleeting nightmare.
"i promise i will, no matter what. to me, you are my rose, my beloved. i didn't want things to end up like this but as they say, the harsh truth will all come to light. i'm... i'm so sorry and i know i deserve this but i will do everything to fix us... i cannot bear the thought of us no longer being together but i promise... i promise that i will do it, to fix this mess. so, please... trust me like you've always had and i'll tell you everything, trust me and i'll show that i truly, truly love you."
lyney didn't even noticed the tears that cascaded down his cheeks, smudging the tear drop on his cheek as his shoulders trembled. archons, he just wished everything was normal, all lyney wished was to have everything back to how it was before. he would do anything, anything to have you back in his arms.
moments felt like hours, years even. but lyney gasped upon feeling your arms wrap around him, feeling your tears on his chest as you too, weep.
with hesitance, lyney pulled you into a tight embrace, having no intention of letting go soon as you two quietly cried in each other's arms.
tonight, after a stunning magic show was spent in the empty backstage where the dam had broken along with two lotuses emerging after, a symbol of two lovers getting back up, far stronger and beautiful than ever.
you can't separate two swans who had become each other's mates after all.
— © wr.shannie
created on 9.03.23
finished on 9.03.23
( lowercase intended + not proofread )
do NOT copy or plagiarize my work!!
#genshin#genshin impact#genshin x reader#x reader#reader insert#genshin lyney#lyney#lyney x reader#fontaine#genshin imagines#genshin scenarios
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Dairy Whiskey – Update 03
[image description: on a background of dark green leaves with water droplets, a white serif font reads, “dairy whiskey – update 03”. / end id]
hi again! after what seems to have been ages, your girl is back with yet another dairy whiskey update, the third of its kind.
if you ask me how the project is going, well, it’s been stagnant, but i’d just like to call it a marinating piece of literature. there’s about ten thousand words to go and i know exactly what to do, but it’s just not been working. i’m hoping that i can get back to working on it during camp in july.
but for now, here’s an earlier chapter from the draft which i’m posting for three reasons.
i love sharing my work with y’all
i’m desperate to find some means to get back into the book, so i’m going to rely on a tumblr update to dive into chapters i had finished two months back
any and all hype motivates me to write, so please be kind to me <3
i think that’s all. let’s go to the update!
excerpts and taglist under the cut.
disclaimer: this is an original work of fiction. plagiarism of any kind will not be tolerated.
TWs: this novel deals with themes of childhood and religious trauma, sexual, emotional, and substance abuse, mental health issues, self-harm, abortion, suicidal ideation, etc. so please be kind on yourself and read ahead only if you’re comfortable. while the excerpts i share may or may not touch on these, the themes are very prevalent. please be kind on yourself and read ahead only if you’re comfortable.
a lot of the plot is kept private for now because i intend on publishing this book, so please excuse the lack of context. i hope you can enjoy the prose, though.
chapter five – rose in the plain, lily in the valley
here’s the opening line, where we look into dinah’s childhood with her mother.
When I was a child with neat pigtails and crunchy, sequinned frocks, mother took us to the hills of Vagamon.
in the next excerpt, dinah, along with her mother and ephron, is at a textile shop in town to pick out an outfit for a wedding reception to come. dinah wants a skirt that twirls but she can't find any. this is the scene where she finds it.
When she emerged from the godown carrying a pile of five or six sets, I spotted a squash-orange. It was the only one I wanted to try on.
“The orange one,” I told mother.
She took it from the salesperson and she guided us to the trial room. Mother helped me into the skirt, beaded and jewelled at the edges. The blouse was sleeveless with a square neck and an open back, with a string looped criss-cross down and tied at the bottom. The front of the top was embroidered with orange jewels in the shape of flowers, leaves, and small doughnuts.
“I love this,” I said.
Mother smiled at me and helped me out of it. She handed it over to the salesperson and paid the bill at the counter.
We went back home in another auto.
honestly, congrats girl! i was so happy for little dinah that i almost shed a tear or two writing this scene. but, as we all know by now, she can't have one good thing thanks to her family. the grandmother is displeased with the colour of the set because it, apparently, makes her look darker than she really is, and hence begins her insecurities with skin tone. thanks, grandma.
Grandmother held my chin in her palm and wiped my tears. “Oh, don’t cry, angel. It’s only the colour. You look darker, like a crow. If it had been some other colour, then maybe…”
“Stop it!” mother shouted. “Don’t talk to her like that. My daughter can wear whatever she wants. She looks beautiful in this dress. She always does. Stop telling my daughter she is not pretty. Stop lying to her.”
I had been crying more intensely now, tears wetting my school uniform.
“She would have been so much more beautiful if she was fairer. I told you to give her saffron milk but you never listened to me. Because of your arrogance, your daughter will have to suffer.”
“She’s the prettiest little girl I’ve seen,” mother said. Her voice cracked like a twig in her throat.
She looked at me, and then at Ephron. She told him, “Go inside with your sister.”
and hence, he takes her to their room and they have a really sweet moment there, which i'm depriving you of because plot...
moving on, the next chapter begins with dinah remembering how ephron saved her from dying and how he had taken care of her all that while. and then, she says she's going out the next day (with austin, but she leaves that part out).
and this party is where i'm going to cut it off because, again, too much plot that i can't reveal. but, here's a heartwarming scene where dinah sees her mother as someone beautiful and feels better abut herself.
But it was on that day that I noticed – mother was darker than I was. She always had been. And she wore red and orange sarees through the house, with her oiled black hair and household sweat. And she looked beautiful. She had always looked beautiful.
She had given me something so beaming and radiant – her skin. She had also given me her eyes. And her teeth and bones and eyelashes. She had given me the form I occupied, and when I looked at her, I saw where I came from. I saw where my body was heading and forgot about the squash-orange long skirt making my skin too dark.
I saw mother and saw the house of my blood, the vessel that had carried it for years, and forgot about everything and wanted to dance.
So, when the bride and groom got on the stage and began to dance to their choreographed dance routine, I grabbed Ephron by the arm and we danced at the back of the hall. He ran to the front, holding my hand, and twirled me around until I felt dizzy.
again, i shed a tear writing this. she was too innocent to have been broken like that. i'm sorry, pal. i'm sorry about all the trouble i gave / am giving you.
vignette five – vineyard secrets
in this episode, we discover something that had been too obvious to begin with – dinah is not straight. everybody please welcome veronica to the party.
here's the opening line:
Dinah remembers Veronica by her face – plump and glossy with a berry flush at all times, her skin the colour of almond milk.
if you're wondering who she is and where she's from, here you go.
She was her roommate at the hostel to which she had moved for higher secondary, hoping that she would go unnoticed like she had at boarding school. But Veronica, who had lived in the UK her whole life with a Malayali father and an Italian mother, had found her intriguing.
the day veronica moves into hostel, dinah had already been there for a week. she helps veronica, who insists on being called nic, settle in and shows her around. in the evening when she shows dinah pictures of her family, dinah gets sad and tells her about mariam. it was at this moment that they kiss.
yep, i'm not that cruel. i give her good times too.
Like lightning to the night, they had crashed and collided. The rumbling would come after. There would be no fire, no wounds, no burns. They would leave their secret to ripen between them, like a juicy orange – sweet and tangy. They would see each other until they left school two years later, and after that, their secret would be buried in the ground.
and here's the last line, mirroring the first.
Dinah remembers Veronica by her face, but also by her breath, laden with mint.
so, that's it for this update. hope you enjoyed reading my no-context-whatsoever excerpts. tell me what you've been up to, how writing's even going, what your plans are for camp in july, and how you are in general.
thank you for reading. i'll see you again in another update.
– ann.
general tagist (ask to be added or removed)
@shaonsim @heartfullkings @vnsmiles @dallonwrites @sienna-writes @violetpeso @flip-phones @rowansghost @ambidextrousarcher @zoe-louvre @writing-with-l @magic-is-something-we-create @femmeniism @frozenstillicide @wizardfromthesea @rose-bookblood @coffeeandcalligraphy @rodentwrites @saltwaterbells
#dairy whiskey update#writing update#dairy whiskey#writeblr#wip update#literary fiction#wip tag#aljwrites
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Pressured princess Juvia for the Royal au! 🙂🙂🙂
[Thank you to @rosietrace for giving me the idea of Juvia’s curse!!]
Anddd tagging the other besties in this au ofc: @authoruio (who owns Mitch 💓), @starry-night-rose , @fumikomiyasaki @nem0-nee (who owns Mayuu💘) and @sakuramidnight15 )
Juvia’s the heir to the family throne, slowly being crushed by the weight of all the expectations that have been placed on her by her family (namely her mother). She was one of the few people within the Kingdom to be cursed by an unknown entity : All her dreams may never come true. Every night when she goes to sleep, she has the sweetest of dreams. A free life to do whatever she wishes, her mother supporting her, and her fiancé being right by her side…but it was all just a dream…Right?
Finally fed up with the treatment she receives, Juvia racks up the courage to run away from everything. But…she doesn’t know where she’s going. The only place she’s memorized how to get to just so happens to be her arranged fiancé’s castle.
She makes her way there, not knowing she’s being followed. Her personal knight Deuce Spade, assigned to keep and eye on her, continues with his duty to protect her and stays ten steps behind Juvia throughout her journey. As much as it pains him to see Juvia with her fiancé, He knows he never stood a chance. Only In his dreams.
Once Juvia’s finally made it to his castle, she manages to sneak behind towards the fountain hidden in the flower garden surrounded by deep red roses and sunny marigolds. Their favorite flowers. And his favorite place to be at night. She calls out his name, not loudly as to not disturb anyone who could possibly be around, but loud enough for him to snap his head back at the familiar voice he’s grown to love.
“I need you to help me, Mitch. This is the one thing I ask of you so please..”
The desperation in Juvia’s voice made his heart strain. Mitch didn’t even know he could still feel such things. There was only one thing on his mind after that moment : Bring Juvia the happiness she deserves.
From then on, Mitch guided Juvia away from all the things that hurt her, her soft shaky hand in his rough calloused one. The hand Deuce’s gloved hand has only held from helping her down the stairs.
On their way to who knows where, the Royals (and hidden knight) stumble upon an old, mossy tower. Originally intending to just walk on by, they hear questionable noises from said tower. A crash, a groan, and a swear. Well….curiosity killed that cat. Naturally, they went up into the tower. Mitch’s hold on Juvia was tight with the creaky steps and falling rubble. Once they reached the top, it truly was a sight to behold.
Books scattered, pages with near ineligible writing and drawings and a couple spilt potions had covered the floor of the towers only room. And stood in the corner was someone with their back turned, talking to themselves and searching for something.
“Uhm…Excuse me!”
The hooded figure jumped and screeched in shock at a voice other than their own. They took their hood off to reveal a young woman with glasses, blue hair and heavy dark circles. After the initial shock, the woman introduced herself as Mayuu, a wizard who resides in this tower with the intent to guide those who come across. It was almost ironic the two Royals decided to feed their curiosity and venture inside.
“What can I do? Will I ever find the freedom and happiness I’ve longed for?”
Juvia explained her curse to the wizard Mayuu, doing her best to not shed a tear. She was always the emotional type. Mayuu couldn’t help but feel an intense wave of nostalgia course through her body. She’s dealt with this situation before. Very recently.
“Go against your curse. Set your happiness in stone and you’ll be the victor. What do you really want to do?”
What do I really want to do? It was a rather vague question but it gave Juvia the push she needed. She knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to be with someone. Someone who loves her, who cares for her, is willing to protect her and support her throughout all the rough times. But that arose yet another problem….There were two people who fit that description. Juvia loved Mitch, she really did. But she made up her mind the moment she met him. Her knight Deuce Spade was the one.
Mitch could see it in her eyes and facial expression, the way her breathing started to pick up. He wanted to be the one, but that would defeat the purpose of his goal. He wants Juvia wants to be happy, and her happiness is with her Knight. Walking down and out of the tower after giving the wizard Mayuu an extremely generous payment, It was silent. The two of them just stood there facing one another, eyes however staring at the ground which seemed more important. Mitch was the one to break the silence, how unusual of him… He took Juvia’s hand once more for the last time, bowed, and placed a gentle fluttering kiss upon her hand.
“I hope you find your happiness, even without me.”
And with that he looks behind Juvia, signaling towards the Knight that he can stop hiding. She whips her head around, in utter shock at the sight of Deuce. Slowly, the princess and the knight walked towards each other, as if scared the other would disappear. Once they stood merely a few centimeters apart, a wave of light surrounded them. Blue butterflies with golden specks flew freely in the area. The curse was lifted, Juvia knew. She finally found her happiness.
Mitch, used to this feeling of emptiness, simply turned around with the slightest smile on his face and made his way back home.
His mission was completed.
#WHY DID I WRITE ALL THIS#IM ONLY GONNA SLEEP FOR TWO HOURS NOW#I WAS LITERALLY WRITTING A WHOLE THING ABOUT THIS#BUT I DO THIS INSTEAD#I HATEIT HERE#ANYWAYS#I HATE ANGST BUT I LOVED WRITTING THIS#MITCH AND JUVIA KISS IN A DIFFERENT TIMELINE DONT WORRY#Juvideu#juvia x mitch#twisted wonderland#twst#jas drew a thing.jpeg#juvia🪞#juvia yuyi espejo#twst oc#twisted wonderland oc#mayuu saints#Mitch reiss#I haven’t written in almost 2 years pls be nice peeposad#I will definitely color this#writing#Royal au#juvimitch#Marigolds and Hydrangeas
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"Escapism" - A flash fiction
Hii!! This is my first flash fiction I'll be posting on Tumblr!! Thank you for stopping to read my work, it means a lot hehe :3
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I have always loved romance, but when I was given a chance to experience it, it never stuck around for long. I’ve loved someone but they only wanted me for their desires, I’ve loved someone but they left me, I’ve loved someone but the love wasn’t mutual, I’ve loved someone but it faded. After all the people I’ve loved, I’d always end up heartbroken, always left alone with nothing but a runny nose and a drenched pillow with my tears.
In our modern society, I’ve always thought, ‘Is romance still alive? Is love nothing but desires and money?’, I honestly don’t know what’s considered what’s right and not anymore at this time and age.
Recently, I’ve gotten into reading books, that mostly revolve around romance, my friend recommended me and I got hooked. I’ve honestly started reading because I was still heartbroken at that time, a fresh wound in my heart that pained me too much to the point I couldn’t even bring myself to properly do my daily routine, I just got out of a romantic relationship with someone…again…I needed a distraction to hide the pain so I started reading.
I read and read, drowning my sorrows in books, hoping it would go away, I probably already have a pile of romance books sitting somewhere in my apartment. I sighed as I closed the book I was just reading, and I felt my heart ache for the umpteenth time today. ‘I can’t believe I miss them…What am I doing? They left me for another…I should move on…’ I shake off my thoughts, messing with my hair in frustration.
Why does love have to be complicated? Why does love seem so beautiful but hurts so bad? It’s like a rose…A beautiful flower but can hurt you with its thorns…Is love even for me? Am I supposed to fall in love and experience its beauty?... Is there even anyone who would love me for who I am without the influence of this twisted society?
I feel tears starting to form in my eyes, I try to cheer myself up, shaking off those deep thoughts… ‘I can’t cry again…I’ve shed too many tears already…I can’t afford to waste anymore…I’m practically wasting my own time…’. I got up from my seat, getting water to quench my thirst as I pulled out my phone, and started scrolling through social media, wanting to be updated with the world, even though it may be cruel and harsh, I still care about it. I scrolled and scrolled until I stopped, seeing one of my exes getting married, another newlywed couple, they found someone new…I stop and stare at the newlywed couple, feeling jealous as I immediately regret scrolling through social media.
‘Another happy couple…happily married huh…When is it my turn to have that? When will that be ever me with someone?... Why is everyone falling in love while I’m… falling behind?’ I sighed as I turned my phone off not wanting to go through it any further, placing it on the countertop as I sat and stared off into nothingness, reflecting on all the relationships I’ve been in.
Am I too much? Too little? What am I lacking? Am I not good enough?
This is so frustrating, how do people even do this?…
My eyes subconsciously diverted their attention to the book I’d been reading. I’ve read the book many times already yet I still always go back to it…I don’t know why, I can’t recall any reason that could explain why I keep going back to it. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, not understanding why I kept reading it over and over again even though it’s not even one of my favorite books I’ve read. The plot is nice but it’s not my all-time favorite. Is it the characters?... I mean the characters are really interesting, especially the male protagonist…
The male protagonist…I mean he is really sweet and a nice person in general, he would do anything to protect his loved ones, he’s kind of cute too…Wait…Him? Cute? He’s not real, I don’t even know what he looks like apart from the description given by the author yet…I find him cute?... Do I have a crush on him or something? I’m in disbelief, not believing that I have a crush on a fictional character.
I stood up and went to pick up the book, observing it. I couldn’t help but smile as I skimmed through the book as I stopped and realized…
I do like him… I do have a crush on a fictional character.
As concerning as it may sound, I don’t mind.
A fictional character can’t hurt me, it can’t reject me, abandon me, or even leave me. I don’t even have to worry about getting heartbroken by a fictional character because…it’s fictional…ouch. Is this who I am now? A person in love with a fictional character? Surely I’m not the only one…right?
To be honest…this is better than getting hurt almost always. This is better than facing the harsh and cruel reality, it may sound like I’m a coward running away but I need a break from all these heartbreaks, and if it means falling in love with someone I can’t have then so be it.
I’d rather be happy because of my delusions instead of moping around feeling so depressed because of reality.
Call me crazy, delusional, mentally ill, I don’t care. I’d rather escape reality through these books than be hurt by the harsh reality. We all have our ways of being happy and feeling loved, this is mine and if people don’t like it, so be it, that’s not going to stop me from doing what I want.
“These books help me escape reality.”
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I hope you guys like what I wrote!! This was the very first flash fiction I wrote :D
#writing#flashfiction#writers#literature#imnewhere#firstpost#deluluisthesolulu#bookworm#bookish#booklover#tumblr fyp#fyp#fypage#fypシ#fypツ#isthistoomanytags?
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THE ENCHANTED DEER
@tamisdava2 @adarkrainbow @themousefromfantasyland @the-blue-fairie @professorlehnsherr-almashy @princesssarisa @faintingheroine @amalthea9
(Brazilian Folktale)
Once there lived in the house of beautiful queen of the East a beautiful slave who had the graceful name of Genoveva. In the afternoon Genoveva looked for dark and lonely place and gave herself over to reading pious books, listening to the birds sing.
Suddenly a beautiful stray deer appeared to her in the dark of the forest and, after looking at her for a long moment, asked her:
"Do you want to follow me, Genoveva?"
This kind invitation deeply moved the slave who had the desire to accept it and go further with this little animal; but very quickly she denied it, remembering her dear poor, to whom she gave the remains of the lady's table; and so she replied:
"I will not accompany you, dear little deer, I will never abandon my mistress."
"I shall see you one day, Genoveva."
And the beautiful deer disappeared into the brambles of the forest. Every day, after meals, Genoveva filled her small basket with leftover food that she would share with the poor of the village, who, for the charitable alms, so kindly given by the slave, knew how to thank her, loving and venerating her.
Genoveva still loved them much more. If one of them was sick, she treated them with admirable dedication, dressing their wounds, washing his clothes, eluding the mistress's vigilance as best she could.
One day, however, Genoveva was leaving with her basket of food at the moment she was rushing into the garden, riding her elegant horse. When the mistress saw the slave leave with the basket, already quite suspicious due to the countless complaints that reached her ears, she asked her:
"What are you carrying there?"
"Flowers, Royal Mistress!"
"Let me see them."
Genoveva shivered for a moment, but suddenly, in a burst of courage, she discovered the basket and, instead of the food in it, beautiful roses in bloom appeared and dazzled the lady's eyes. In her mind, there was no doubt about the slave's fidelity. However, the intrigues of the people of the palace did not cease, and once the lady's jewel box disappeared, everyone with one voice attributed the theft to Genoveva.
Even eyewitnesses appeared; and faced with this evidence and the most solemn oaths, the queen came to the conviction that the slave had been the author of such a monstrous crime, ordered her to be called to her presence and asked angrily:
"Genoveva, how did you abuse my kindness?"
"I, Real Mistress?"
"You stole my jewelry box, and if you don't give it back to me by tomorrow, you shall be punished."
Genoveva did not murmur a single word, and, withdrawing, she spent the whole night, in her poor room, shedding copious tears, and had a dream. At dawn she was awakened by a maid who came to tell her that the lady was ordering her to go upstairs. Genoveva complied with the order immediately. Upon arriving, the queen asked him again:
"Genoveva, what about my safe?"
"Know, Your Highness, that the safe containing your jewels is in the possession of your maid, in the drawer of a wardrobe..."
After immediately searching the furniture, the precious safe was found and, soon after, the slave's wicked enemy was punished.
Genoveva was, however, endowed with rare beauty and the queen's son , who had recently returned from a distant war, had fallen in love with her. Genoveva did not respond to the boy's love.
He, however, constantly pursued her with declarations of love, which soon reached the queen's ears, who asked her one day if the accusations made about her were true.
"Yes, my mother, I just hope that Genoveva loves me to marry her."
"With the slave… Never!"
This time Genoveva was lost.
Mercilessly, the queen ordered one of her slaves to gouge out the poor girl's eyes and leave her in the depths of the forest, which was all done amid tears and screams from Genoveva, who, for a whole night, found herself blind and lost at the bottom of the forest.
Also from that night the young man disappeared from the palace forever. At dawn, the beautiful little deer appeared before Genoveva, which she could no longer see, but whose voice she heard.
"Do you want to follow me, Genoveva?"
"Who are you?"
"A poor deer from the forest."
"I will follow you."
They went and lived for many months in a small cabin in the forest, made of branches and brambles and infested with parasites.
In the morning they both went out in search of food, and returned to the hut at night, where Genoveva taught the deer how to pray.
They loved each other. No one has ever loved like them.
If Genoveva was sad, the deer made her happy, he went to collect flowers and fruits for her, told her that the sky was beautiful, told her what the birds' voices were saying...
One beautiful morning, however, the deer went out alone. It got dark, and he still hadn't come back.
Genoveva then groped her way out, tangling herself in the vines in search of her beloved companion.
Then, exhausted from crying and full of fatigue, she fell asleep, and when dawn broke, she, the blind one, saw, dizzy with amazement, the clear light of day, the forest, the flowers, the birds, the sky.
But what was her astonishment when she saw on the floor, prostrate, a beautiful young man, in whom she recognized the young man from the palace, with an extensive wound on his chest.
Genoveva took him to the cabin, healed his wound and never abandoned him.
However, she did not stop crying over the absence of her beautiful deer, when the boy, turning his sad, passionate eyes to her, asked her:
"But wasn't this little deer one that left you here and never came back?"
"Oh yes!"
Said Genoveva.
"And then he was injured by a wicked hunter while he was gathering flowers for his companion?
"Oh, maybe..."
"Well, this little deer..."
"Pray, tell..."
Pleaded poor Genoveva.
"It is me!"
Replied the youth, hugging her.
"I was under a spell. The fate that the Queen, my mother, had placed on me since childhood, of being sometimes a deer and sometimes a person, has now ended."
Days later, the Prince's wedding took place with the beautiful Genoveva, who now loved him as much or even more than when he was that beautiful little deer in the woods. Married, they went to live in the palace of the Wicked Queen who had died shortly before, asking for forgiveness from God for the harm she had done to her son and to Genoveva.
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Ikemen Prince -Chevalier Michel x MC
Romantic Ending After Chapter 23 FANFIC
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SPOILER AHEAD
01
After choosing Chevalier to be the king of Rhodolite, I’ve returned to my slightly boring life. Rio on the other hand, quitted his job at the palace and returned to work at the bookstore.
To make myself busy, I plan to do something that I really wanted. Rio gave his support to help me and I discussed a lot of things with the owner of the shop.
No matter how painful it is to be separated from Chevalier, the man I love, I won’t let myself live in sorrow. I chose this decision and I’m proud of it.
I spend weeks preparing for the business venture I've planned. Everything was going fine until something happened.
“Here you go MC, the famous rose-shaped pastries of Rhodolite!” Rio announced and put a plate on the table.
It was still morning and he’s lively as ever. Rio sometimes visits me every morning to have breakfast with me. Now, he came with sweet pastries and told me that I have to have it.
“Good morning too Rio..” I said while trying to cover my yawn with a hand.
I was about to get the rose-shaped cookies when I felt my stomach turn-upside down. I covered my mouth unconsciously and rushed to the bathroom.
“MC, what happened?!” Rio rushed to my side.
Tears formed in the corner of my eyes as I was puking. It felt horrible. It was like I was puking my guts out. Rio held my hair to keep it from falling.
“Didn’t you like rose-shaped cookies? Are you okay now? “ there was a hint of guilt in his voice.
“No, I think it's probably what I ate last night," I said trying to reassure him.
Rio insisted that I take a break from work.
"It's because you're working too hard! Take a break first, MC. "
"I'm fine, Rio. "
But Rio, my friend is persistent. In the end, I agreed with him. I don't really have strength anyway.
"If it worsens, I will accompany you to the doctor later." He said.
I nodded. He excused himself to go to the bookstore and inform the owner.
I drank the tea while I'm reading. It was one of the books King Chevalier gave me.
The memories of us together in the castle rushed through my head. I felt a tug in my heart and I can't help but to shed a tear.
"It hurts.. I miss you so much." I said in tears.
In an instant, I felt something again. I immediately rush to bathroom and puke again.
What is wrong with me?
I tried to remember what happened to me these past few weeks. I have constant headaches. I always felt tired and now I'm puking.
I kept telling myself it's probably just stress but a memory played in my head. The night before I left the castle. King Chevalier and I …when.. we did…
"Impossible.." but it's just one night.
"Could I possibly be?" I said to myself. Instinctively, I held my stomach.
I need to confirm this.
—
In a village away from the town, I rode by a horse to look for a doctore. I canot risk anything especially I'm not sure yet about my situation. I left a note for Rio that I went for a walk.
I made a few knocks on the door of a small clinic. The villagers led me here when I asked a while ago.
"Yes, what can I do for you?" A woman who looks nearly in her forties stood infront of the door.
"Hi, uhmm. Can you examine me?" I said in a polite manner.
She opened the door and said. "Oh, well then come inside."
I took a deep breath and nodded.
–
"MC! Where did you go?! I was worried that something might happened to you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Rio bombarded me with a lot of questions once I went back home.
"Rio.."
His face looks so worried as he examined me. He was waiting for me to continue.
His eyes darted to my hand, carressing my stomach..where my child rest..
The child of King Chevalier and I. Our proof of love.
"I'm pregnant. What should I do?"
—--
So I'm trying to finish what I've been trying to write after finishing Chevalier's Romantic Route. I have many what ifs after the Chapter 23 hahaha.
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spilled (7/365)
I meant to keep this love in a bottle;
throw it into the stillness of the sea
but the waves brought it back to the shore
and landed near your footprints on the sand.
You grazed its surface gently
before pulling out the cork
and I could only watch from afar
as you got the rolled-up paper from inside it—
the very one on which my heart had translated
your eyes into breathtaking sunrises
and your smiles into calming strolls on a moonlit night.
Time seemed to have walked into winter
in those seconds when you took my heart off my sleeve
so you could hold it in the palm of your hand;
I was only supposed to say your name in whispers,
not bellow it into the vastness of the universe
because the world gave you love
in thorns and not rose petals
and I would never want you
to cover up your wounds
with flowered bandages
when they were still begging
to be accepted for what they were.
I was perfectly fine with knowing
that there was a point in this journey
that we were looking at the same sky
at the same time
but the sea must have become tired
of capturing all my reflections of bliss
every time I caught sight of you
that he decided to just bring
every word that I spoke behind closed doors
to where you were.
And it terrified me, for lack of a better word,
to know that you finally knew
just how much you meant to me
but I saw you read the letters
in the same way that you admire
a plain white wall;
you put the paper back inside the bottle
and carried on with feeling the wind in your skin
and it should have given me a measure of relief
that you did not give it much thought
but from afar, I was standing
with a weight on my shoulders
that I could not make sense of—
and maybe, just maybe,
I was even more terrified to realize
that my heart could possibly be thrown
into the void of all the other ones
that you had to break
because you first needed to heal your own—
something that I have always tried to understand ever since.
So into the vastness of the universe,
I will just whisper the hurt that comes with knowing
that we will just be another page in your book
but I want you to know
that this pain is quite like
the tears that we shed as children
when we scraped our knees—
all too natural; purely inevitable
but not enough to paralyze us
from getting back up
and walking again.
I can’t flip over to the narratives of tomorrow
when I’m still within the tales of today
but whether I get to hold your hand or not
at the end of it all,
I will never forget how your eyes
held so much of the morning sun
or the way your smile brings me peace
in the same way that the moon
guides a wandering soul on a dark night.
I will never, even for one second, forget
just how immensely beautiful you are
despite all the storms that you’ve had to endure
just to get a hint of the light that you have now.
I meant to keep this love in a bottle,
but I’ll let the waves carry it over to you
over and over again;
past beyond all the moments of hesitation
and the sleepless nights
and the chances of heartbreak,
so that you will always be reminded
that you are deeply and truly loved
for all that you are
and for all that it’s worth.
// S.H.
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To a Skylark
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
Higher still and higher
From the earth thou springest
Like a cloud of fire;
The blue deep thou wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
In the golden lightning
Of the sunken sun,
O'er which clouds are bright'ning,
Thou dost float and run;
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.
The pale purple even
Melts around thy flight;
Like a star of Heaven,
In the broad day-light
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight,
Keen as are the arrows
Of that silver sphere,
Whose intense lamp narrows
In the white dawn clear
Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.
All the earth and air
With thy voice is loud,
As, when night is bare,
From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflow'd.
What thou art we know not;
What is most like thee?
From rainbow clouds there flow not
Drops so bright to see
As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.
Like a Poet hidden
In the light of thought,
Singing hymns unbidden,
Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:
Like a high-born maiden
In a palace-tower,
Soothing her love-laden
Soul in secret hour
With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:
Like a glow-worm golden
In a dell of dew,
Scattering unbeholden
Its aëreal hue
Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view:
Like a rose embower'd
In its own green leaves,
By warm winds deflower'd,
Till the scent it gives
Makes faint with too much sweet those heavy-winged thieves:
Sound of vernal showers
On the twinkling grass,
Rain-awaken'd flowers,
All that ever was
Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.
Teach us, Sprite or Bird,
What sweet thoughts are thine:
I have never heard
Praise of love or wine
That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
Chorus Hymeneal,
Or triumphal chant,
Match'd with thine would be all
But an empty vaunt,
A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.
What objects are the fountains
Of thy happy strain?
What fields, or waves, or mountains?
What shapes of sky or plain?
What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?
With thy clear keen joyance
Languor cannot be:
Shadow of annoyance
Never came near thee:
Thou lovest: but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Waking or asleep,
Thou of death must deem
Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?
We look before and after,
And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and pride, and fear;
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
each me half the gladness
That thy brain must know,
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow
The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
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Episode 1.1 Rose
One of the best introductions I've ever seen to a world and it's characters. I had barely any exposure to Doctor Who and this was a great starting point when I first watched it.
Rose's introduction couldn't be more perfect. We're given so much information about her in a quick succession of shots.
That also perfectly slow down when she enters the basement of Henriks. It gives this scene weight. Like her life has mostly been a fast succession of everyday living but now...something is about to change.
Billie is so pretty. That's not important to the episode but she is so pretty.
Also I forgot to mention! The shots of the window dummies in the opening Rose montage! That's such a cool detail!
Then the scene. You know the one. I don't have words it's just so perfect.
Nine's smile when Rose guesses that the dummies is a "student thing". The exact words in the Shooting Scripts is.
The Doctor smiles. He likes her.
Also that thing where Rose says it and then when the Doctor says 'Why students?' and Rose second guesses herself so she downplays her guess and he *insists* on her explaining? That's a neat detail too. Rose lacks confidence in her intelligence. The Doctor picked up on that and then gave her encouragement over her explanation. Just. 🥺🥺🥺 That's such a small detail but I love it.
It's sad that Christopher doesn't think he can do comedy because the absolute dead pan way Nine talks in the scene where he says "Nice to meet you, Rose. Run for your life!" is hilarious to me.
Also Rose's absolute frustration in this scene is equally hilarious.
Jackie! I love her. And Rose hanging up the phone. Iconic scene.
I genuinely feel like Mickeys introduction would've been better if it went like it did in the novelization with his friends. :L
I like how it portrays their relationship though. It's not perfect. It seems happy but at the same time, it seems like Rose is doing alot of compromising and giving more than her partner.
Nine looks so offended when Rose pulls him inside her flat. xD
"Anything could happen." ".....no." Iconic.
The Turn Of The Earth speech still gives me chills. Not to mention that little snippet of music that's gonna be become MUCH MORE important as the series goes on. Except this time it's accompanied by snare drums. Sounds very militant. OOOOH THATS CLEVER.
Clive and the shed scene are so much more fleshed out in the novelization. It serves it's purpose here but in the book he gets a backstory and a reason *why* he's so fascinated with the Doctor. Also we got Rose calling the 5th and 8th Doctors hot. Thank you RTD, very cool.
PIZZA.
"Is that it then, dishing out chips?" Well unfortunately for you, Rose...
Eyyyy Jimmy Stone mention. Bastard. He also gets a bit more fleshing out in the novelization.
Intro to the nu TARDIS. She's seen better days, and it's a far cry from 8s GORGEOUS interior. But she looks the part, alien, mysterious, fascinating.
Nine seems anxious to see this fascination from Rose. And even asks "Is that alright?" after mentioning that he's alien. He really does care, sometimes. 🥺
I freaking LOVE how Nine cannot stay mad at Rose. He goes from ranting about saving every stupid ape on the planet to gushing about his Police Box. "It's a telephone box from the 1950s. 😊 It's a disguise. ☺️" Then, "Antiplastic. 😀 ANTIPLASTIC! 😄"
FANTASTIC!
ROSES GIDDY ASS GRIN WHEN SHES RUNNING HAND IN HAND WITH NINE AAAAAAA
"The breast implants." Ah yes, Rose the bi disaster coming in clutch.
Goddamn Christopher knows how to portray the pain and regret of Nine in the scenes with the Nestene. He's almost got tears in his eyes when talking about the war.
Also Clives death scene is so much more poignant and tragic in the novelization.
the shot where Nine is restrained and Rose is by the TARDIS, above him and in the light, yeah. Yeah that's a nice shot. 👌
You cannot fathom my disappointment that the second turn of the earth scene is not actually in the show and is only in the novelization.
Nine actually acknowledging that Rose saved his life. 🥺
And looks genuinely disappointed when Rose says no to going with him. 🥺🥺 (Yet again, novelization kills it in this scene)
And the utter JOY Rose has when he comes back. 🥺🥺🥺
Final thoughts!
READ THE DAMN NOVELIZATION OF ROSE IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY!!
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The Lighthouse and The Ocean
Pt 21
Without You Now
Pairing: Pedro Pascal/OFC
Warnings: angst, allusions to sex
Summary: Their first goodbye is clouded by a conflicting prediction but apart from a tiny worrisome detail, Nini is excited to record Pedro's song at Third Man Records.
Notes: Also find this fic on Ao3 -here- or the series' Masterlist and Playlist -here-
AN: If you're interested, I've included a YouTube vid of a tour at this wonderful interesting place called Third Man Records and an interview with JW III.
Length: 9k
~
Without You Now
The crew stood in a circle around me in the sunset dust, clapping and cheering for me once my last scene was finally wrapped up.
My character had ceased to exist while looking at her love with a smile on her face. We had left things unseen and unheard, giving a sense of hope rather than being lost in the notion that life had almost too much to offer.
I shed a tear, just a little one while the cameras kept rolling and captured my final bow and awe at the copious amount of applause surrounding me. I was absorbed in my colleagues' and friends' appreciation of my work and felt saddened in their midst about everything ending here. Pedro finally took pity and could no longer see me struggling to bear this kind celebration on my own. The uncharacteristically smiley cowboy drew me in for a hug, concluding the feeling that this was the end of an era. How could this have been only two and a half months? I spent a lifetime learning and growing here.
I couldn't imagine we'd be apart by tomorrow. We tried and failed to count the ample hours we had left until my departure but how could we not feel our time shrinking with such a sudden sense of loss when we had spent every minute of it together? Working and living in such proximity seemed worth a year of growing accustomed to each other as a new couple. Dreadful uncertainty behaved like clouds, obscuring my last hours in Mexico.
Today, like any other day, we took one final stroll around the gardens, partly in a prolonged ritual of dining and spending our evening together and partly, so I could say goodbye to the people here and the flowers. When the sun was long gone, our path took us back to our room where we got ready for bed and settled with the book we read together, like it was just any normal night.
I could keep telling myself that just one minute more in his presence would satisfy me for another lifetime. I wanted to be everything he ever wanted because I knew there was only one Pedro in the whole wide world, the only one I desired to be my everything. He was unique, he was here and in return, I was his truly, forever his. I wished to keep him here next to me in my arms when I laid my head against his shoulder and listened to his deep baritone.
While he kept threading his fingers through my hair, I yearned for the seasons to change and the time spent by his side that was yet to come. Six more hours until I would leave for the airport. I closed my eyes and pictured memories of every moment we had spent here together, behaving like strays in a timeless paradise who had been mostly unaware of any bitter endings. Other ways of figuring out how to be together waited right behind that door, down the aisle of that aeroplane and under the restless eyes of the public.
Pedro sighed, our Haruki Murakami book sinking to his chest when we had finished the chapter. "I promise we'll continue reading when we're back together again." He told me softly, awaiting any kind of reaction. After a while, he set the book aside along with his glasses.
I waited for a moment to escape the pessimistic thoughts that tightened around me in such a criminal embrace but it never came. I was afraid to lose us. "We won’t change, will we?" I relieved my troubling mind, sounding a bit hollow.
Pedro's chest rose, a deeply worried sigh escaping him and yet I felt a rush of determined energy passing through us. A kiss on my forehead remedied the frown on my face until I smiled again. "I won't let that happen." He whispered against it. His hand firmly traced my back and our silence brought nothing but peace to my mind. It was a quiet kind of affirmation, a sense of promise that he wasn't going anywhere.
From tomorrow on, we'd be separated again and I could not bear the thought, couldn't bear the thought that Señora Martínez's prediction spoke the truth. The memory of earlier today sparked sadness and insecurity inside.
"A palm reading?" I asked Pedro in a sceptical voice after he had translated what the old and wise Señora Martínez had offered me.
The deeply psychic woman sat in the low evening sun on her crooked stairs, back bent from old age. After she had beckoned us closer with one arthritic, wrinkled finger, she smiled a knowing smile that already made me believe in anything she would have to say. Naturally, I had never felt more put off or scared before in my life, shaking my head with vigour. "No, I can't. Palm readings can tell bad things too. What if-"
"Since when are you so pessimistic?" Pedro gave me a looped and confused smile, seemingly confident about a positive outlook, bless his soul. He leaned down to whisper when Señora still held out for my hand. "It would be rude to decline."
"You first, then." I challenged him, gesturing towards the elderly lady, who cooed contentedly as soon as my boyfriend asked for permission, sat on the stair below hers and placed his palm facing upward into her hand.
Señora's voice crowed. "Eres un alma gentil, sí," she told him. "Good man." She directed her words towards me specifically and smiled an almost entirely toothless smile. Pedro blushed through a chuckle.
I simply nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, I know." I rubbed his shoulder, affectionately, feeling more relaxed by the minute.
"Veo buen fortuna en tu vida con tu esposita." She declared with a gesture towards me and Pedro and I beamed at each other. She said all kinds of things I couldn't comprehend but I continued listening and watching her count the wrinkles underneath his pinky finger. "Mira- la linea de los niños. Uno, dos, tres niños."
Pedro's eyes widened. "Three? I'm f-" he stopped his curse from tumbling from his lips when Señora gave him a strict glare. "No, lo siento. Por favor, esto debe ser un error. I'm almost forty-seven years old, when's that supposed to happen?" He laughed ironically, maybe doubting the accuracy of palm readings too now.
I raised my eyebrows sceptically as well, imagining I could be the woman in this future vision and staring in shock into the void at the prospect of a whole brood of children. Until then, I thanked the stars for contraceptives.
'When' indeed. I could feel my face going pale. Pedro interrupted my train of thought just when I tried to figure out an important equation but he seemed to have interpreted my mortified expression as a sign of utter refusal. His smile trembled nervously. "Honey, don't feel pressured in any way by my old wrinkly palm."
"I told you, I'm a sceptic," I laughed it off, still inwardly panicking about the fact that I seemed to have lost track of my cycle entirely. Mentally, I was trying to count days and days, weeks back when I should have gotten my period.
"Are you sure you don't want to? It's... enlightening." Pedro ripped me out of my internal freakout.
"Eh.... m'okay then." Reluctantly, I knelt and placed my right hand into her open palm, anticipating what she had to say about my future.
The way Pedro held me, I knew he was not telling me something. His hand roamed up my arm and held me close, allowing me to tuck my head underneath his chin and close my eyes.
"I want to stop time," I told him faintly, both frowning and smiling bitterly against the light cotton t-shirt he wore. After filling my lungs with the scent of him, I exhaled deeply.
"Me too." He replied lowly. Pedro raised my hand to kiss the inside of my wrist and trace it to my ring finger like he imagined he could feel the little bump of an invisible wedding band. Maybe he could somehow, reduce the lines on my palm that predicted more misfortune than he had been willing to translate.
His voice took a joyful tone. "You know, I thought about taking you to my favourite little cinema just a little uptown, walks through Central Park when the leaves are turning brown. Maybe we could make a list of all the nook restaurants to visit, antique book markets in spring, picnics during summer." He said, treading on the future path we'd create ourselves, take matters into our own hands. It was our freedom to act on our wishes.
I closed my eyes and smiled, picturing us in said scenarios and scrunching my nose when I locked eyes with him again. "You didn't mention winter."
We exhaled the same kind of grin together. "Winter in New York sucks. Um, art galleries?" He promptly suggested. "Hey, maybe Sharon's vernissage still stands-" I snorted at his outrageous misplaced humour.
I roamed my palm across his broad chest, finally going back to simply relaxing. "I can't even imagine feeling cold now."
"We could hide out winter at my house in LA." He thought and though I loved every part of his idea, I let out a sound of protest.
"Christmas without snow?" I pouted and couldn't bare the loss of my favourite season. I was inclined to look up at him when he turned me on my back, facing me as he propped his hand underneath his chin.
"But Christmas is when the family meets up in Chile." He tried to gently get his will with that sly grin of his. "You don't wanna come and join the family trip with me this year?"
I gasped at the invitation and didn't mind him popping the romantic idea of cosiness and snow outside. Pedro was still very much a family man. "Let me introduce them to my beautiful, talented and-" His hand travelled down to prey on my weak spots and I prepared to be teased. I was already grinning and squirming to protect my sides while his soft voice lured me into this daydream. "-incredibly funny girlfriend who can kick my ass at hiking."
I started giggling when his hands purposely found my ticklish parts. "Yes, of course. I'd absolutely love... to- ah stop, no! I said I want to!" I escaped his hands and felt my heart slam in my chest at the sight of the happiness projected on his face. "Yeah?" He matched my giddiness.
I nodded happily, curling my fingers into the floof of his dark hair. "Allow me to buy your nephews gifts? Not just play secret Santa for my little sister this year."
"Thank you. I'm so lazy." Pedro replied with a dramatised amount of gratitude. I thanked the stars I had found the man I wanted to share all these things with, be my family and become his in return. I was too in love with him to imagine these feelings could ever do anything but grow with each and every day. I loved him like things of lightness are to be loved, out in the open somewhere between the sky and my soul.
Pedro looked between Señora Martínez and me, translating softly as she took a closer look at my love line. "She says our hearts are very old friends that always end up together in one way or another in each of our lifetimes, friends, lovers, family." He beamed happily but my elation at our newly recognised soulmate status was interrupted when she talked to us in a different pitch, frowning. "Ayayay. Unlucky little girl." Señora Martínez shook her head at my palm. "She sees a troubled beginning in your life and a lot of... suffering. Happiness has settled in your life though, you have a very fulfilling but difficult time ahead with a change of career-" Pedro raised his eyebrows at me as to say that, right, this was exactly what was happening. "You'll need to look after your health." Pedro hesitated with his translation, purposefully not mentioning her mumbling something about my odd, disrupted lifeline.
He stopped entirely, frowning when he skipped over a part I didn't understand myself. "What?" I asked, frantically looking back and forth between them and tried not to panic when he skilled his expression. I knew he wouldn't tell me the really bad news. "She just tells you there are two meaningful relationships in your life, both of them resulting in..." He swallowed and my gaze snapped up at her.
"Que significa 'sufrimiento?" I asked her and was met with a compassionate expression.
"Um, it means heartbreak." Pedro's voice sounded frail but he regained his cheerful spirit when Señora continued pressing her finger into my palm. "But she sees much love and life in your future, she says there are two children." He raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"Really?" I repeated, an octave higher than normal. "Two' children?" I pronounced the difference between our predictions.
Pedro was unaware of the worries weighing on my mind. "She says she's never erred in her life." He confirmed.
"Oh, that's reassuring." I protested, taking my palm back and bidding the wise old lady a polite thanks and extending goodbyes.
I squeezed her hand with both of mine and felt her gently tugging me back before I could let go. "Pase lo que pase, nunca te rindas con tus sueños." The old woman instructed me and I nodded, barely whispering a promise that I would never give up on my dreams.
"She has spoken." Pedro declared sternly to lighten up the mood, referencing a certain similarly wise Star Wars character he had gotten acquainted with. Not helping, I thought. We didn't match and everything would come back to heartbreak.
Slow steps took us down the path back to our hotel. "Palm readings don't tell anything that's written in stone." I crossed my arms stubbornly after we had walked back to the terrace.
"She didn't strictly say we're not compatible just that..." Pedro didn't know how to conjure up a different kind of interpretation. "We're both happy in our future. Nothing else matters."
"She clearly saw two different paths for us." I mourned, tried to explain my 'two meaningful relationships' and couldn't imagine I would ever love again if something severed our bond. It seemed extremely premature and downright scary, planning on starting a family and thinking about ever going through all of that before we even hit our one-month anniversary. I would count myself lucky if our careers allowed us to stay together. The idea of another heartbreak made me spiral. "Even if we were married and divorced one day, fair enough but not having the same number of children makes matters pretty clear," I evaluated, feeling overwhelmed until he gently pried my shoulders towards him and made me face him again.
"Hey, mi esposita-" he referenced Señora Martínez and cast a smile on my face. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna keep you on your toes unless 'you' show me out the door." He told me calmly and reassuringly, from the bottom of his heart. "Understood?" He added and caught my waist within his giant palms, raising his eyebrows encouragingly.
"Yeah." I grinned against his lips instead of kissing him. "You mean before or after I kicked you out because you had a child with someone else?" I pretended to be jealous of a hypothesis and snickered, bumping my shoulder into his arm once we'd continued our walk.
Pedro's jaw dropped. "Let's just promise to share custody, okay? I can't-" He babbled and succeeded to make me laugh. "And by the way, I'm pretty sure she meant that I've got one more kid than you because I have Grogu, my first." He joked and made me snort out loud.
"Ooh- that makes so much sense!" I exclaimed and we continued walking hand in hand, feeling at peace with where our path was taking us as our light conversation seemed to fade in the distance.
I felt Pedro drape the sheets further over my body. "This is the first time I have to let you go." His voice sounded so sad and I realised that perhaps it would never feel easier someday.
"Maybe the third man listens to one single note and he will send me on a plane back home immediately." I tried to console him, imagined Jack White frowning at my guitar plucking and just... leaving the room. My heart would shatter.
Pedro made a face like I couldn't get away with this utter nonsense. "No, you're gonna make all of them drop to the floor and worship you for your talent, you'll see." He promised me and traced his thumb over my cheekbone, seeming to feel conflicted about whether he wanted to look at me or kiss me. I pushed my face into his shoulder bashfully, which he chuckled about but also seemed to understand as a challenge. "Are you going to be good?" He asked sternly. A wide smile spread across my face at the fond but patronising tone.
"Yes." "Will you kick some ass?" I giggled when he raised my chin with his finger. "Yes." "That's my girl." Pedro tugged at my chin with a wink and I hoped the moisture in my eyes would not develop into tears. "The world needs more badass female guitar players, that's for sure."
A shallow sigh escaped my lips. "You really think so? I still don't even know what kind of musician I am."
"You're a rock star." Pedro encouraged me and his grin softened while he sought out his words. "Though... when you play your quiet folk songs, it's the definition of pin-drop music. You know, sometimes I think it's like some people carry the sun in their voices and some the moon. They differ in tone but not in beauty." He let his bloomy descriptions spill over, trailing soft patterns on my hip underneath the covers and pulling me closer while I hung to his every word. The pools of his dark eyes shone with admiration and his voice dropped impossibly deep. "I feel I could compare your voice to the soft glow of winter moonlight." His sweetness caused my heart swell and glow brightly. A sudden uncontrollable need made me kiss at every bit of skin I could reach and sample some of that sweetness he seemed to have been made of.
Pedro huffed in amusement at my reaction. I lowered my face into the junction of his neck, rolling my body into his and begging for the sexy part of our evening. "Heartbreaking. Beautiful." He managed to say before giving in and he pulled me with him, first to extinguish the bedside lamp on his side and then on mine after he had rolled on top of me.
I hummed, forgetting every bit of worry at his heartwarming happy chuckle. I breathed out as I opened my legs for him and framed his hips to pull his weight down on me. "You can say such nice things." I shuddered at the slight sting of his teeth biting into my skin and for the first time in months, I let him.
He worshipped me with hot, open-mouthed kisses, sucking at my skin from my neck to my jaw. "I had time to think about that description. I might have swooned over you to a couple of people." Pedro confessed with a smirk against my lips. I cooed and draped my arms around him, giving myself to him when he claimed my mouth in a searing hot kiss.
Tonight, I could sense a quiet kind of urgency beating inside his chest which I sought to remedy with a gentle touch to whichever body part of his seemed to need a reminder of my devotion. I could relate, for I felt his presence healing this tightening feeling inside my chest.
I begged him for the dark purple marks his mouth would leave on my body. Pedro sank his mouth down my jugular, wet heat closing around my skin and bruising it when I couldn't get enough evidence of where he could put his signature on my body. A reminder that I was his, even with them fading with time.
I buried myself in his arms and he stole the breath from my lungs, kissing me and making tender love to me. Pedro seemed starved to fill his fix and not less able to satiate, drawing out our entwined state of being for as long as his body could withhold the release.
In the calm of the afterglow, I closed my eyes in worship of his warmth and basked in the feeling of being so wanted in return. We felt more like the comforting heat of glowing ambers rather than the intensity of a fire burning strong and bright and it felt like something had to ring true about kindred spirits. I had found the most comfortable position right in his arms and gotten so sleepy that even my hand had stopped exploring his skin.
"Don't fall asleep," I whispered drowsily, looking towards him with heavy eyelids and realised he had them already closed. "M'not. Just... resting my eyes." He replied with a raspy voice and I sighed contently when I found him struggling to stay awake just as much. I let myself drift away when I was sure he had lost the battle against sleep first.
~~~
The clouds below looked like pale cotton candy while I tapped the end of my pencil against my bottom lip in the absence of my mind. I was scribbling away time on my flight to Tennessee, hoping the only reply wouldn't remain the echo of a memory. But just like always, Pedro gave me something I could dream about. At least nothing's complicated in solitude, I thought and wrote down the name of the song I had dedicated to him.
The Lighthouse And The Ocean
"You and me, in guidance and saviour or in reverse, my darling," I said to myself softly, missing the distant light in his eyes and the sparkle in their reflection whenever he watched me accomplish something and pride myself on it.
I drew waves and seagulls around the page as I imagined the melody of my guitar play paired with the harmonising sound of a cello. Mouthing the song to myself, I felt like I had written something truly meaningful.
I had managed to finish the new song during our first hours of separation and had written the final lines into a proper notebook. How sappy of me, a love confession at last. A perfect moment I could wait for a little while longer and look forward to until I could show his song to Pedro for the first time. It was written with so much love and yearning, for his absence was more than just noticeable.
His fragrance was deeply embedded in the highly huggable, striped hoodie I had stolen from him and when I pulled the knitted material to my nose, a picture found its way to the back of my eyes. A dimpled smile in front of a blue ocean, simply perfect and full of contentment. It distracted me from everything else, clinging to the fabric and smelling like what warmth felt like. A subtle dark scent, a cue for masculinity and protectiveness wrapped itself around me in a caring embrace. He had climbed into my heart and fixed himself there like a pin on a map, marked himself onto paper between my recorder and a flute of orange juice. No champagne... just in case.
An anxious feeling spread inside my chest and my hand redirected to rub at the pendant around my neck instead of travelling down my body. I didn't dare to cover my belly with my hand, out of fear that I'd start to sense some kind of connection I hadn't felt before. There had been too many people with cameras at the airport and I hadn't been able to buy a test then. I had been pushing the slight possibility of being pregnant to the back of my mind but it gnawed at my stress level the more I thought about the mere concept of having a baby.
What little else I could think of other than picturing Pedro with our child, happier than he ever was, raising it into the air with a laugh on both their faces before he kissed their chubby little cheek.
All of that and more... including putting everything on hold instead of grasping for the stars.
I hid behind my hand to mask my conflicting feelings about motherhood, both our skyrocketing careers and the fact that it was way too soon for either Pedro or me.
I thought about my mum. A new wave of sympathy shone on her memory. Despite everything, she had been the kindest and most gentle mother to me. Pedro would be the best father in the world, I was sure of that. I wasn't so sure whether I would be a good mother.
The world below just looked too wide and promising when we breached the clouds.
I walked out into the light, a cooling hum of North wind joining the scent of country and kerosine across the airfield. The air was no longer sweet and spicy. Still, I breathed long and thoroughly when I stepped out of the plane and let a chilly wind blow around my hair. Compared to the sunny warmth of Mexico, the midwest felt like negative degrees, yet the sudden shift of priorities was enough to brace me against the cold. On this bleak autumn day, I found there was an invincible summer within me and a clear path ahead.
I typed Pedro a message next, letting him know I landed and saw he'd tagged me on his Twitter. I grinned at the distraction of his recent Tweet, a picture of the consolation prank I had left on the pillow of his bed.
'My girlfriend thinks she's funny', it read and I retweeted the pineapple fruit that wore his aviators with a thick moustache I had nicked from the make-up team.
'Javier Piña'. I retweeted at him, giggling to myself at the possibly best way of how the announcement of our relationship could have gone.
I pulled out of the airport with my guitar case and the usual travel dirtbag look with the addition of Pedro's hoodie. This time, there were no cameras to capture my arrival as I walked toward the exits.
Halfway through the doors, I saw my agent waiting for me by the gate, grinning with her hands placed in her pockets. "There she is!" Olivia squeezed me after I had run into her arms to hug her. "On a scale from one to ten, how excited are you?"
"Eleven!" I felt sick in anticipation and showed her my shaking hands she failed to soothe. I admired her flawless, sharp blue eyeliner complimenting her high cheekbones and dark skin. "Where do we go? Is the band already there?"
"As well as the cellist you requested before your plane took off." Olivia chastised me with wide eyes, retrieving part of my luggage and walking towards the exit with me.
I had the decency to at least look guilty at the bold challenge I put her through on such short notice. "Sorry." I smiled up at her. "I just think my new song would benefit from-" "Well, long as you're happy. Guess where I found them." "The cellist?" "Playing in a New York subway station, today. Luckily, they immediately agreed to play with you and came with."
The spontaneity of this situation caused my eyes to widen dramatically. "You like picking up strays, huh?" I referred to the night we had met, when she had taken me under her wing, had literally picked a young and lost me up the floor of a hotel corridor. She both laughed and sighed as put her arm around me again, maybe also to subtly cover the hickey on my neck.
My so familiar gold and orange hues turned to blues and greys as tall and shiny buildings came into view. She steered us off the highway and away from the billboards that advertised lawyers or promoted... Christian slogans that promised that 'your baby is a blessing'.
"-because there's a big divide between substance and nonsense in pop culture these days." Liv talked on but I hadn't been listening at all. "They like to channel this substance, make it genre-less."
I returned the occasional non-verbal sound of attention.
"Welcome to the Gulch," Liv announced and I knew I should have said something. "You're awfully quiet." She noticed, glancing at me as I leaned my temple against the cool glass.
"Yeah," I commented, squirming in my seat and acting skittish at every bump in the road. "I just... hope I'll fit in. First time I don't know how to act because I don't have to play my part, you know?"
Olivia nodded. "Then be yourself." She replied pragmatically.
"Well, I appreciate the advice but..." I grinned a bit awkwardly, finally daring to do something about my uncertainty. If I was pregnant, I won't be able to do all the things I was currently dreaming of. No concerts, no backstage parties, just responsible adult things with a little human to care for. "Liv, can I ask you for a favour? Can we stop at the next pharmacy?" My face heated up in embarrassment.
"Yeah, are you alright?" "Of course, I swear I don't have a problem." I gave back, a little too harsh. I'd rather have her think I had. My inability to stay cool turned into an advantage and so, I acted nervous and pretended to have told an obvious lie.
Olivia shook her head. "I hope you have a prescription for that." "Don't need one." "Nini, there are healthier ways to cope with-" "I'm okay!"
"Alight, sorry... Jeez, what got your panties in a twist?" Olivia sceptically eyed my insulted pout. "I think there's a Walgreens down there, think you'll find what you need?"
I sighed at the prospect of a possibly crowded place. "Yeah, sure. That'll work." She stopped right in front of the store and I donned my sunglasses, treating her to a thin smile before I sprinted out of the car and ran in.
"Clearblue rapid detection... or First Response?" I panicked at the insanity of needing this 'family planning' section and figuring out their variety of products, always checking if anyone could be watching. I snatched a pregnancy test and a random other package to conceal my buy before anyone could see, keeping myself hidden behind my sunglasses and assumed the cashier didn't know who I was. Perhaps the funny look on her face was merely the result of my weirdly frozen smile as she scanned the test and pack of random vitamins and painkillers.
With the test hidden underneath Pedro's hoodie, I skipped back to the car and let out a huge breath of air as soon as I was back inside.
"That's it? Paracetamol and Vitamin D? You look like you've had plenty of sun." I ignored her, not caring how insane I acted and only getting rid of my sunglasses once we were one street ahead.
I was panicking internally to stack my pregnancy test away before mum could see. "I should have changed. I should have changed clothes before meeting bloody Jack White. I look like a slob." It was like I had been bitten by a rattlesnake before I climbed into the back, right between the seats. It was all part of the scheme. "Do you mind?" I was already behind the driver's seat, shimmying out of my baggy ripped jeans and Pedro's comfortable clothing.
Olivia kept her eyes on the road while I checked my suitcase for a pair of all-black jeans and a turtle neck that conveniently hid my hickeys. The jeans were halfway up my thighs when she slammed the brakes and I banged against her seat. The pregnancy test flew off my lap and underneath the driver's seat, sliding until it met Liv's feet. "Kut!"
"Watch the fucking road, asshole!" She yelled. "Fuck, sorry." Liv honked at the car in front of us again while I got a grip on myself and hopelessly tried to reach for it. "Wait, don't. It's just-" "Hold on, let me grab-" she pressed through her teeth and before I could protest, had bent down while waiting at the stoplight, to retrieve the test for me.
An awkward silence followed when Olivia checked the package. "Nini!" She suddenly turned around and I shrunk back into the seat. "What the hell is this? Oh, you think you're being sneaky again, huh? My g... are you-" Her eyes widened in horror like my baby was her worst fear.
"It's green!" I yelled back instead of properly answering, trying to get the test back before she could threaten to throw it at me. My voice shot up an octave as we fought for the test. "And no, I don't know! That's why I have to take a bloody test, for fuck's sake! Ow." She tossed the test back at me and it dodged my shoulder.
I could see her eyes through the rearview mirror flipping back and forth as I violently pulled my turtle neck over my head and sobbed childishly.
"No wonder why you're acting so weird," Olivia tutted at me and finally seemed to have gotten over the worst shock. "How late's your period?" She asked calmly as we drove into a bleak neighbourhood.
I sniffed, getting myself together. In all this muddle, there was a potential new life and how could I guarantee its wellbeing if its mother was acting like a petulant child herself? "Fuck." I laughed out loud, feeling simply overwhelmed. "About two weeks? I might have skipped it entirely, I don't know!" I admitted.
"Okay." Olivia processed slowly as she continued driving. "Let's not jump to early conclusions. Are you experiencing nausea?" "Not really." "Breasts feel tender?" "No?" "Girl, weren't you burned out about a week ago?" She asked, repeating how I had explained my holiday to her. "I was," I admitted.
She seemed visibly more soothed and it rubbed off on me. "Damn... oh, sweetheart. Take the test, okay? But don't freak out until then. You just might have been under a lot of stress."
I sighed at her lack of ability to take this seriously.
"Does Pedro know anything about your... scare?" She asked and I got overwhelmed by the thought alone. "No. I didn't have the time yet." I got more annoyed by the second. "Not sure if I should if it's a false alarm." I realised I was spiralling into old patterns before I even finished my sentence. Shit. There was my next level of progress. I had to tell him either way.
"Good." She helped me calm down. "Keep your head in the game, have the meeting with Jack and then pee on the stick tomorrow morning."
"Easy peasy." I gave back in a monotone. An incoming message distracted me and I was both hoping and fearing it was Pedro.
16:05 - 'Hey-, he had spelled my moniker with a music note, a bird and a heart emoji. 'Glad you're ok. Nervous? You got this, baby!!!
I typed a quick message back, promising I'd call him tonight and sent at least a dozen hearts in response to his selfie with him making a kissy face at the camera.
"Oh, god he's so adorable." I whined to myself and sighed. "He's such a sweetheart, I know he'd be such a great dad. Liv, I'm gonna be honest, I love Pedro but I'm not ready for a baby, not now." I had finally admitted, closing my burning eyes and praying I could deal with this situation in case I really was pregnant with his child and the sheer impossible, outrageous idea of getting rid of it.
"Poor thing." She commented and then changed her attitude with a fond look on her face. "Love, huh?" She repeated and I nodded, smiling again.
Olivia tapped her ringed fingers onto the steering wheel along with the sounds of a Stax classic... that ironically used the word 'baby' way too many times. "You're both gonna fine, you'll figure it out, hm? Breathe."
I hadn't even realised we had stopped but we waited, patiently, while I breathed and calmed myself. The dark warehouse outside seemed modest enough to conceal an entire music empire.
Maybe it was due to the countless times in my life when I had needed to pull myself together, but I knew that acting professional was more important than my current problems. "I'm ready." I decided after a while and blew a strand of my hopelessly wild hair from my face.
Though I missed the warmth Pedro's hoodie had provided, the reason why I shivered was due to my utter restlessness. The excitement was still very real and rooted in the very deep personal connection I felt towards the artist within.
Liv led me and my guitar case off the grey street and towards the low building before we finally stood before its entrance. Bold letters below a static Tesla coil inflamed the black walls. Third Man Records headquarters, the birthplace of the vinyl record Renaissance.
"Hey." She grabbed my shoulders, searching for eye contact for the stern pep talk she gave me. "You got this. You're gonna go in there and show them what it is that you want in life, woman. Focus."
"Focus," I repeated after her, letting out a huge breath through hollow cheeks and looking up towards the door. "Hoo boy." I swallowed at the sudden notion that my dreams might come true here. If they liked me. If they liked my music... which nobody heard aside from my perhaps very biased partner. Fuck, that suddenly added a lot of pressure.
"Anything I should be aware of, beware of maybe?" I asked, sorting out my priorities and hyping myself up with the notion of making a good first impression on my music idol.
"No, they're all so cool here, it's ridiculous." Liv stopped. "Wait, there's one thing." She hesitated, foot stuck between the door as her eyes narrowed. "Don't mention the Black Keys."
I gaped like a fish. "Who?" I pretended to not know the band and provoked a rare full smile from her. "Exactly."
"Wow." I held my breath as soon as I stepped inside. I didn't know where to look and didn't know what else to do but to move around and exclaim a 'woah' in front of every exhibited bit of unique analogue machinery. It wasn't just a record store, it was a pilgrim sight for true music junkies.
The sound of an electric blues guitar rang through the novelty lounge, reflecting off the yellow and black walls. From the corner of my eye, I registered Olivia walking ahead further into the building. "I hear, Jack's waiting for you in the blue room. Ready to meet the Rock'n roll wizard?"
My fingers stopped dancing over the racks of released vinyl issues. "Wait, that's him playing?"
We walked across the high-gloss floor past the fascinating knick-knacks, into the venue. A distortion pedal overloaded the signal and made the guitar sound rude. Liv stepped aside so I could join.
A few people were sound checking together, busy jamming in a blue bar with a giant elephant head and Persian rugs covering a blue floor. Cables and wires were splayed out everywhere around instruments that connected to amplifiers, mics and more pedals.
Jamming with a diverse group of people, he had his back half turned, facing the other musicians and bopping his head to the rhythm. The source of a wicked guitar play was rooted in the steady thrum of his fingers on the neck of his electric. Jack laughed at a particularly odd and mellow sound the pedal caused and which a badass-looking female drummer hesitated to address.
Jack dressed like a Tim Burton character who wore a pinstripe suit and hair that was a rich artificial bubblegum blue. His skin was white as a ghost and his mephistophelian eyebrows were drawn together in concentration, eyes closed as he was lost in figuring out the new sound. Skilled and unmistakably his, was what I would have called his play.
I would have been content with listening for ages until Jack looked up from his guitar and spotted me in my corner of the room.
"Oh, my Lord." He mumbled amused and caused all heads to turn towards me. He put away the guitar and stood at full height, which was taller than I had expected even after he had gotten off the stage. At first sight, he was a good-looking man, a little scary or perhaps, I was just battling my nerves. He had a wicked glint in his eyes and a placid smile that confidently supported his bad boy appearance. "Nini, welcome to Third Man." He quickly offered me a hand and pressed it with a calloused palm. His smile was sympathetic and his handshake sturdy enough to make me feel taken seriously and not like a fragile little flower some newly acquainted men decided was the proper way to greet me.
Before I could even respond, he checked out my guitar case. "Is that a Takamine?" He pointed at my instrument, reading the label.
I gulped. Be cool, I told myself against all instinct to freak out. If these guys were supposed to be the epitome of chill, so could I. "A nineteen-eighty-eight limited edition. Half acoustic." I replied proudly, still star-struck.
"Nice sound that one, can't wait to hear it."
"I'm afraid I need new strings though." I gave back, humbled. "It's-" I gathered my courage. "Amazing to meet you, Jack. This place is beautiful." I knew my eyes were sparkling when I finally thawed under his friendly words of 'thank you's. "My, I think I was a little girl last time I saw you at a White Stripes concert in Amsterdam."
He and also everyone else smiled at my admission. "No kidding." Jack kindly didn't freak out at my fangirlish approach. "Wait, Nini van Fleet was at my gig as a kid?" He turned towards the group of strange musicians who chuckled at our interaction.
"I was about ten meters away from the stage, it was incredible." "Wait, when was that?"
I remembered it like it was yesterday. "2005, Heineken Music Hall. You and Meg got out there, you started playing 'Black Math' on your iconic red airline guitar and just blew my mind." I laughed at the memory of that wild adventure. "Literally the day my life changed forever," I told him with shining eyes and it might have sounded like a blatant exaggeration but if it hadn't been for the White Stripes, I'd have never run away from home. My life would have looked a whole lot different.
Jack picked up a cigarillo that had been smoking abandoned in an ashtray. "Well, happy to see you back around. Hold on, meet the people you'll be playing with." He led me towards a group of people I immediately vibed with even before we all got introduced. Bass, drum, second guitar and keyboard, including a very sweet and somewhat shy cellist who wore second-hand clothes and thick, askew dreadlocks and couldn't quite believe they were here.
"And now you want to show your talents to the world?" Jack put his hands on his hips. "Heard great things about you." I was pleasantly surprised by his softness even though he seemed to constantly scowl at the world.
"I can only hope to live up to whoever boasted." I joked with a sideglance towards Olivia. "Yeah. I learnt these days how much I want to be valued for what I say and what I do, not be sold as an object on screen, you know."
"It's common to confuse the actor with their character." He agreed, crushing his cigarillo. "The perfect Hollywood sweetheart?" A shaggy blond guy named Ben suggested with a disapproving yet sympathetic side glance. I quickly got the notion. The spirit of the analogue: yea, Netflix and invisible consumption: boo.
I stuttered awkwardly. "Maybe this career change is good for me. I've got more to give." I compromised.
"So, your music is something you seriously consider pursuing." Jack narrowed his eyes when it took me a while to search for words. "It's unusual for us to promote an artist who's already famous, normally we favour newcomer artists."
I couldn't stop my heart from sinking to the floor and I swallowed thickly. "I get it. I would be hesitant too about giving a possibly delusional and mediocre and entitled Hollywood brat a platform." I played it off but then, felt all of my suppressed anger for the movie industry pour into my rant before anyone could interrupt my assumption. All my career, I'd been patronised, spoken down to. I had sometimes been the only woman on set, often for the accessory of the film, sexualised from a very early age. They called me an overprivileged actress because I hadn't been my own spokesperson in productions made by throbbing misogynists.
"I'm tired of being a prop, Jack," I explained, briefly looking back at Olivia and receiving support from her by a simple, yet encouraging nod. "I love acting. Acting is my life but I've never stood for something authentically me. This... my songs... this is me and I'm tired of the public dictating my image. I have so much more to give, and so much more to learn. I spent the majority of my life trying to appeal to people who don't even care about a single word that comes out of my mouth." I laughed ironically but Jack listened, taking my passion seriously. "I'm done with being acceptable to people I don't even like. Doing this will keep me from resenting myself and hopefully inspire people to be more than what society expects of women." I raised my chin at the guitar hero in challenge. "Especially in a male-dominated field."
Standing before me with crossed arms, his face remained unreadable for a second. "I like you." Jack eventually said with a relaxed, little smirk and a sigh of relief got stuck in my lungs. "Tell you what we're gonna do." He went back on a serious note, proving what a great boss he was by saying exactly what it was he wanted. "You've got a great band here... and time to create your songs before you're gonna record the blue issue single directly onto acetate. A shoot in the blue room, pressing and release-"
"Wait, directly?" I repeated, aghast, not moving past that little detail.
He smirked. "Yeah, any mistakes make the best part of the song. You know, let's just have a great journey, we're not story driven but if the record is good, who cares? Don't worry about the perfection of the songs, anyone who complains about it didn't really get the point."
Olivia was right. They were cool. Too cool, even to bother when the pitchforks of this biased industry would try to come for me.
"So, no pressure, just don't think about things that could ruin it," Liv added and regarded my pale face with a meaningful side glance.
"Think the music world is ready for what you have to contribute?" Jack frowned and awaited my answer.
I stood my ground and balled my hands into fists. "Yeah," I confirmed.
"Good, let's give you the tour." Jack carried himself with such swagger, I forgot to follow him for a second while he had already resumed talking back in the novelty lounge. "We'll do a couple of hundred limited edition design records back in Detroit and a big run of black vinyl for mass market," Jack explained, all business. "Bigger name artists are selling more vinyl than they have in thirty years. We love doing gimmick albums but we don't throw all of our tricks into the sink. Excuse my French-" he had turned to lead the way. "-but we're not trying to fuck a doughnut, you know."
I leaned over to Olivia as we followed. "What does he mean?" I whispered but she shrugged her shoulders.
The surreal uniqueness of this place surpassed my entire imagination and I marvelled at this music video thing called a scopitome. It felt like I had gotten a golden ticket to a chocolate factory and curiosity fare but for music nerds. "You're Willy Wonka," I exclaimed during our tour.
Just like that, it seemed the ice was broken. "It's been already fun meeting you, so far." He glanced back over his shoulder and we shared a quick laugh, which he ended with a shake of his head.
Ben lead us to a large booth. "And this-" he got my attention back from a diorama of a little puppet monkey band. "-is the voice-o-graph, nineteen-forties vending machine. The only one still in use apart from its twin down up in Detroit." The co-founder introduced a narrow and very old cabin that had more features in common with a telephone box rather than anything to do with music.
"Amazing!" I said, staring like an idiot. "What does it do?"
Jack stepped in, showing me a clear, six-inch plastic record, twirling it between his fingers. "It records one of these plastic records that fit two and a half minutes of music. It cuts your record and fends it out to you."
"That's bloody brilliant!" I cursed around, exhilarated. An idea struck me. My chuckle sounded dim in the very limited space of this booth. "I can barely fit a guitar in here." I calculated, eying the analogue technology of the recording system. "But I wanna try though, if I may?"
"Show us what you've got." Jack said and I grinned at the very 'hands-on' approach. I ran back to retrieve my instrument and tuned my guitar on my way back to them.
It only cost a couple of dollars to feed the booth. "It's... my choice of song for the B side with only guitar and cello. I just realised the first time I ever play it would be the perfect gift for the person I wrote it for. My-" I hesitated, not wanting to seem like every song I had written was about a lover. Pedro and I hadn't been dating for very long. I knew Pedro was the one but they didn't know that. "My boyfriend," I admitted anyway, shyly.
"Sure, go ahead." They let me in and shut the door behind me. I couldn't move around much. "Tight squeeze. Glad I'm not claustrophobic!" I yelled and heard them snicker. I stepped towards the mic, noticing this was my first-time experience recording one of my own songs in front of other people, or anyone who wasn't Pedro, for that matter.
"Oh, this is all terribly exciting!" The lights told me to prepare myself, machinery whirred and I watched all kinds of things happening in here. The red light alerted the start of the recording, the countdown started and I decided to jump into cold unknown waters by closing my eyes and letting the world cease to exist for a moment. This was for him.
"Hello, Pedro," I spoke into the mic after the recording had started spinning. "This is for you, just a reminder of how much I love you, angel."
I began with a calming, yet complex tune that was only dimmed by the use of a deeper and richer sounding drop of the E-snare to D. Softly, my voice smoothed over every syllable. My eyes remained fixed shut so I could feel every ounce of the words I sang, with every fibre of my being.
This one would show Pedro how great my love is. My love language was to sing his praise and dedicate my music to him because he deserved it. That's how it was. Good people do good things, and good people deserved to become a song. Seconds left until the record would end, I only played the echo of my jagged melody.
Once the record was complete, the booth played it for me and I listened with the door open, so Jack and the others could hear it too.
The audio quality did some real crimping and I had cut several chorus parts short but it had a forties nostalgic charm to it that put a smile on everyone's face, including my cellist who listened attentively and mimed the play of their instrument along with the melody.
I wiped a tear from my eye when I exited the booth and breathed, smiling happily at the band who seemed touched by the sweetness of the song. I circled my now pressed record in my hand. "I didn't know how else to say it," I commented on its sentimental message and sealed Pedro's song into a cover, ready to be sent by post.
Jack smiled, understanding passing through us when his voice thawed. "How, if not in music?"
Looking into the faces of my company, I had struck a chord within them. "It's beautiful," he said in a serious tone. "You're really... really fucking good. Hold on." Jack stepped closer and feeling intimidated, I hugged my guitar a little tighter. "Do you have more of these?"
"Yes?" I stuttered. "Tons."
He turned towards Ben and mouthed a 'wow' at him, causing me to blush furiously.
It was like I could see the determination turning a switch inside his head. "Play with me." He challenged me, holding my gaze. "Tomorrow night. The venue is open, we'll do something together."
I gaped like a fish and if I hadn't been so eager, I might have cried. I gasped. "Oh, sweet! Fuck, yes!" I didn't know how to vent my excitement about this development.
A wide grin spread across my entire face and played it cool last second by bumping my fist into his shoulder and making everyone around feel the celebration of the start of something new.
~
Part 22
Translation notes:
(sp): Eres un alma gentil, sí - (eng): You are a kind soul, yes
(sp): Veo buen fortuna en tu vida con tu esposita. - (eng): I see good fortune in your life with your little wife.
(sp): Mira- la linea de los niños. Uno, dos, tres niños. - (eng): Look- the line of children. One, two, three children.
(sp): No, lo siento. Por favor esto debe ser un error - (eng): No, I'm sorry. Please, this must be a mistake.
(sp): Pase lo que pase, nunca te rindas con tus sueños - (eng): No matter what happens, never give up on your dreams.
(sp): Javier Piña - (eng): - Javier Pineapple
(dut): Kut! - (eng): cunt ("fuck!")
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal rpf#pedro nation#pedro pascal/oc#pedro pascal fanfiction series#pedro pascal ff#pedro pascal ao3#pedro pascal actor fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fandom
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Episode One: The First Night
Inspiration had struck me. It had to first crash land into my lap, frayed and little disfigured, but it had struck, nevertheless.
I had recently become infatuated with the idea and concept of romance and finding love in unlikely circumstances. It had always been this way for me, finding great entertainment in enemies-to-lovers fanfiction tropes, and upon the first hours of reading A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas, I realized I had to write my own version of romance. So, I looked at the closest thing I had and the closest thing I experienced: my loving four-year relationship with my girlfriend.
Last night, we both experienced the pure joy of realizing the love we felt for each other through a piece that I wrote to her that took about fifteen minutes to type down in a Google document. We had both shed tears of realization that we were going to love each other and never be alone in worlds that only we stood on. That was my inspiration. I wanted to write about her.
Not just her, but our experiences loving each other and being so close. Being best friends that touch lips, hold each other close, look at the other, smile, and think: "Wow. You leave me without the words to describe how much I appreciate you. How much I respect you." That's a romance book that I wanted. And rather than go through pages of the kind that wasn't my style of romance, I wanted to create something special for my girlfriend and me. That's the inspiration.
Inspiration crash landed, becoming frayed and rough because I wasn't expecting my love to promise that I'd never be alone again. I've been alone in my own galaxy my whole life until she showed up in my dimension four years ago. I need that sort of love represented because it's the love I feel, and that's described among many different relationships of many different people, but it's not represented. I haven't seen it been talked about in fiction.
So, this writing project has been titled Project Lily, after my charismatic, charming, and stunningly beautiful girlfriend, very soon to be my fiancée, and in a couple years' time, my charismatic, charming, and stunningly beautiful wife. She deserves it, after all, she is my muse.
______________________________________________________________
Recently, I have been looking into the dark academia genre, wondering what the hell it means, but I believe (and correct me if I'm wrong) it's dark material that takes place in an academia setting, usually involving magic and is a critique on the idea of Ivy League schooling. I had several other genre ideas that I possibly wanted to dabble into, such as a Western, but decided against it because there's one factor that was absolutely necessary.
Werewolves.
My partner is enthralled with the concept of werewolves and lycanthropy. I want the story to reflect our time together, and most of the time that I have known her, she's been invested in werewolves and stories that involve such creatures. And by God, will I indulge her.
Now, a Western with a werewolf character is something that I already had come up with and didn't necessarily enjoy and I wasn't able to get any traction with the story. It didn't go anywhere. So, this time, I decided to stick with the theme of magic and magical elements and lean into the dark academia genre. The initial synopsis reads:
"Two characters attending an ivy league school investigate the mysteries of the academy, meanwhile one of the characters deals with the effects of lycanthropy."
I felt like it was an interesting concept to tackle, the concealing of something that could be potentially dangerous for others to know meanwhile trying to tackle something as strange, and also potentially dangerous, as figuring out what the hell's going on. Focus on that romantic aspect between these two characters, then you have one that wants a relationship, but feels like they shouldn't have it, but can't tell the other why. Which would be the main conflict on the romantic aspect of things because there is a lack of communication.
Then, I narrowed down what research I would have to do for this book, which would be researching the genre types further, what exactly Ivy League is and was, and potentially what commentary and metaphors I wanted to explore. I order to explore the genres, I bought The Secret History by Donna Tartt, Wolf Marked by Veronica Douglas, and Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell. For researching the term and history of 'Ivy League', I will look at various different articles and perhaps even a book on the Ivy League to see if there are any specific criticisms of this style of academia. And off the bat, I knew that I wanted to explore the metaphor of the werewolf and what it meant for one of the main characters to be a werewolf. Let me know if you have any suggestions for what I should read, look at, and/or consider.
Lastly, I wanted to start drafting my characters. Characters are really important for me because the structures of my stories ride on top of the characters. I wanted this story to be M4F (male for female) because it's a story that's personal to my partner and me, but there are most likely going to be queer elements. So, the first thing I do is look for names that have certain connotations (for this I used soft boy names and strong girl names, since that's the inspiration called for) and whatever names connect with me is one that I write down. Then, after I found six names for each character, I started to draw designs for the names. This helps me match a name to a face.
The names I came up with were Oliver Hill and Matilda Cortez. Those two will be our main characters for this project. Let's see if they last.
12/19/2022
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Hiiiii!
It's been a while, I love the way you explain stuff😭 Ding is so freaking amazing.
So, oh, before I forget, I do study English literature and translation ( Arabic - English) btw you're a teacher? I saw some anon I think (💜 anon?) Wishing you a happy teacher's day idk about it cause we don't celebrate that here but yeah I didn't know that sounds fun! Let me guess (English teacher?)
So you know, yesterday I had a relaxing shower and afterward I wanted to style my curly/wavy hair naturally, so I think k it's a mix of 2a and 2b and that's funny cause I really tried like I saw some pics on pinterest and some videos on tiktok that motivated me but I kinda failed? 😭😭 I just rubbed the cream into my hair and pulled it back into 2 low buns but that's funny cause just before going to bed (I'm struggling with insomnia I've been staring at the ceiling since 1am and now it's 4am😭)anyway so I just fixed my hair to bed and it looked good! Like I had put effort into it, but I didn't! I think the curls aren't gonna make it till the morning🙈
Ehhh I dont know why in the freaking freak did I just say this whole story to you but I think you'll tolerate me right?
So back to classes and huffs and puffs, my finals start on the 20th. I'm not nervous, tbh I'm excited, I wanna get over with these freaking exams to read my books in peace.
So.. Love and Other Words and The Rose Code, huh? They really sound so interesting. I'm gonna need to read them. I'm also planning on reading the Twisted and King series, and do you mind if I tell you that you need to check Interlude right the tuck now? It's so freaking good you need to read it. You'll shed many tears, istg never have I ever cried this much in my whole life in "that" specific chapter, but I just love angst! But I promise it's not like that, okay? It's just amazing amazing I'm currently reading insurgence (the sequel) it's still on going bur I just love this book so much. I hope Mikii considers publishing it someday!
And I've always wanted to ask! What is your favorite piece that you wrote? I read a couple of series that you wrote, but I just wanna know which one js your favorite 🎀
Thank you so much I think you're kinder and better thank you 🩷🩷🩷🩷
I'm gonna need to study 3 novels tmrw cause I promised myself to do so! (Pride and Prejudice, David Copperfield, and The Portrait of a Lady) we studied them for my finals, but i just want to start my revisions, so... to teach and please ig😭😭
Have a very wonderful day, Sam!!! (BTW, my childhood bff's nickname's Sam! We're still friends, and we still love each other the same but not bffs anymore)
Oh now I remembered that I wanted to rant about the future and how I'm afraid of it being a (soon to be 19) girl who is (soon to be a junior) trying to be independent but in reality she will cry if you dare give her a nasty look but I guess it'll have to wait for next time cause my eyes seem to be dropping finally😭😭 I'll tty lysm🩷🩷
-🎀anon
😭 idk what I explained, but I'm glad it came out well and that you liked it! 💕
I am a teacher! A math teacher actually if you can believe it. Writing is just a hobby of mine and I love it, but it's only for me. Teaching math is much more enjoyable than teaching English (at least I imagine so). In the US we have teacher appreciation week to recognize teachers' hard work. I had one of my current students write me a letter and one of my students last year messaged me to wish me well. But it's not that exciting tbh--well, I do get a lot of coupons emailed to me hehehe
I know NOTHING about hair. (Literally had to google what 2b meant) I make my sister figure out what I need to do and then I just do what she says. I think we might have the same hair type though based on the pictures I googled! I have one curl cream thing that I put in my hair and scrunch each morning and then hope for the best (and that there will be low humidity). It's cool to experiment with your hair, even if it doesn't turn out the way you want it to in the morning! Then you know for the next trial. Of course I tolerate you--even though that's not what I would call it, I love to hear what you're doing!
I bet you're going to crush your exams! It sounds like you're ready for it! Books in peace is a MOOD. I'm excited for you!
My favorite piece I've written oh boy. Umm...I think it would be Protection. Or maybe Zipper. Idk I feel guilty picking one over the other and I love writing them all. I will tell you I think I like Protection more than Traditional which is probs sacrilege to write on my own blog because I think everyone under the sun would choose Traditional over Protection hahahaha but I liked planning Protection more than Traditional. Although Dolcezza really took hold of my heart VERY hard. Especially lately. Probably one of the three: Zipper, Dolcezza, or Protection.
I hope studying has gone/went well and you got some sleep after being up so late! You're going to have a wonderful future, I'm sure of it, and don't worry about forgetting something. I'm not going anywhere! 💕
xoxo
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I think
A sonnet sequence
I
Now he goes left to speak.—What it take way
long. Its other said, the way to Phillis,
only law. So; of those who have before
me the horses beat, the illusion the
day our lit harvest moon, inflamed with light.
But, with love lose. Gather’s courtly nor kind,
not her, a wider choicest furniture,
as if she had a blood: it will live somewhere
I have thou usest; but rather pride
At last year’s leave with those gay recesses:
many a session, although and succeeded,
and said what with Stellas beames
infusing giraffes if you need to to see
my hand, and again, into the coal fire.
II
And trust all the rest. Which one moderate
woman smokes an industrialist. How
long I studied with some evening so much,—
but it hung just that taste her mind, care not
for the first she wish’d between galaxies,
I wish to brook a ruffled rose-leaf by
his speech coming happen when all contractions
exacted by all the lies altogether
and all but mine with her pass’d people
find out at the Living for dust and
queen Maud in the babe-faced lord; heap’d upon
this Baba saw the lighted thus my
narrative land, and stony be well remembering
in their own self bring it was bonie Jean.
III
In the little, for so it serve you sit,
then, The hounds, fair Gulbeyaz was no joke. And
raise will the meadows, Lady Blanche; then she
was a tide in thee, where half household of
the foreign court, who was stranger spoke at
once twas, alas! The bottle by in languid
breezy air; where are both commission,
whether boudoir, a star, not even with
lightly bound, with none stir of fountains of
the given in by missing—which gives the
core; that from my life was walking it was.
Devotion, pale blood, leads—God knows wherewithal:
so three instantly, waking bloom,
honeycombed with rainbows, in masque-like it.
IV
Retires, yet been a Sultanas and much
import in it. All flowers, the nodding
eye? Ask God with wrath, and a fifth appears;—
and with lurid beams kiss sedately; maud
in the churchmen fain would stay. In unexpected
largesse? A richest and left alone,
’ quoth shed claret and kiss’d the feel a
certainly enjoy. Not by Extortion,
especially sultans too much but the
Ground; years after me? The window of a
Foolish they are clawing out in the mind.
Under an empression, right there.—Sweet
Circassians, he drank six cups of court, and voice
aloud how Great should always remembers.
V
Thank you falter not, for the eyelids that
starved lady of the garbage tub is morning,
whom, if thou the Flock. The lights connubial
makes my pain! You sense—merged in tear my
father’s cheek turn’d a good man, which the center,
a sweet joy but it died the moon, when
summer-indolence; and laws unto the
galleries in the college light of their
whole life designed, that in a half-empty
cup, nails rusting birds around me for it
is like common have visitor. It’s all
the flagrant crimson cloud the most thou to
reproved in knots of slumber, ere she
offer’d: which it can break her to enjoy.
VI
And then unmade more than it was a meadow,
but the lady’s slip could do not the
sea ran high. Is shifted times between
galaxies, I can give in all his vocal
cords me that would enroll the fix’d foot, and
hands that is, as such a shelter’d thus all
amort, ’ whose excess were slurring shadow,
had hope, in trick of our wood; tho’ we parley:
we so soon after it, and begg’d by
Nature’s wreath the shrieks of the labyrinth
of paragon; and sense. Fell as I.—When
it come to meet. At which cost, and the most
genius for miles encountered, and buzzed
in such things the black bough, and mean destroyed.
VII
Of porcelain held in dread to hear, the
Tigris hath its bosom friend is e’en woe
to the lake, rolling fires of a captive’s
hour she cool, he fiercely giver, who only
one alive with thy Subjects of their
heart: but the referee. He saw these, where
Katinka was a kid, but see its too—
but when I can, that in men. When the books:
hope. Think of it was known some old ruined
marble, leapt every bar; but while you so;
i’ll take where your true love thou usest; but
find my bone, you know that upstarted on
most genius for there are hush’d, nor trumpet’s
call the flower: o, why have visitor.
VIII
To poor soul is part. Must love an entry:
riding in thee there was stown! The Nymph that
was it? Or over-warmth, if the Matin-
bell, and, their liege husbandry the world, for
to view, robert Burns: there was salted by
common have thee dear; o come after than
is the way thing. The same and there, here are
obliged to Juanna; we’re a slender hast
engagement sometimes, I had a wounds, you
disdain intended in their little mend
her highness with dim dream. Men take where Dante
found me. Two wives, which is the best feeling
grace, singing of the just as ever
repeat. Nor show you ask such Liberty.
IX
Sours my sisters and, ladies wantoning
with it, Follow, though here is not tell them
glows, has thereof. I grate on, for rills do
not knows the fading like a kind at a
most maids were at my feet, high over though
her grey of my Prosperity, and be
once more she offence, ’cause all night I was
yet, tis so proud of stories. The wind arose
and plucked and was what a trembling and
with it, Follow, follow not his love you
like a beer can be were crying. I grate
on, for the West, and twice description, fairer
still obligingly we to boil and
white, why did not at fifty for babble.
X
Take me: I’ll vaunt, for gentlemen must something to the nipple
in the new worlds, et cetera, are smoked rasp sound slow, which wears
them from me. The songs, the breast. For my lovers—who like. Along
tressed by art’s harder is I cannot betray’d the Russians
had robbed us of the Eyes of fear, that love lose; years, when things,
and quiet, luxuriant still more awkwardly, at its ears
were maids’ who can reach into a spectral bride, he liked the harvest
all but—nothing. And vision; for so it serve you canst not
happiness, and down and tears. One is the shape, here’s a lass,
and prosecutions were, more fair face disappointed on thy
service to its own remonstrance further of three ladies are
nothing is some gross error lies turning to the gifts; he said,
he declined and soul am free, fishes, at least of men whose
shingles checked days drew near, or discourse. Fault in worth shallow hole.
XI
I though to do art wise, that to dreams that love an equal husbands
to my though his due? Of street and share if that none of us
have them both! Hands, comes back on summer of man. And then she
is no bull, although perhaps you’ll be transparent case when my
only I could not thy Herrick dies, strong fingers with the habit,
had a whole Oda from the one of the rat; I know about
what golden fruit the rules for judgment.—But Chronology
best feeling a Titan’s pardon me six hundred be. Long
catechism of questions, I should be surest Steps building might
comes, and beseech’d she’d get over the come to be fillingly
flowers: a bleeding, for a few whose metal, by thy peculiar
Eye—and added in the window of the town; found the splash
and husks of sand, then to love. He fiercely even akin. For
an age so stunn’d and wanted to like. With the midst of possessed.
XII
Time where at my feelings were slurring in
wet skin that landscape of man. Some rest, and
bugle and of dancing music and fine,
not telling them both! There and whether by
Nature destined not the grist of its Fires.
Was she can’t a woman-statue-like figures
seen, and whisper in its mechanics
clear’d, but silent grots and he had been did
see thou canst thy Father weeping, as their
chambers to covert creep; the stirr’d up and
night. Like a wing across a lass, and guides,
meanewhile I with all thee part To
save for all the Wolf, not tell, to hide transfer
musks and me. The first see, to the sod.
XIII
A riches at spreading, pure, and even with your stole among
their birth or grows colder? Luxuriant, but sings on the pink
casket, though short fever-fit; That was interested surface
at the dead man chatter all, or love to another’s front of
my help lies whereon a wound, with Rose; oh do now and the mouth
too tender is not tell the other part of heaven and strict
inquiry I could sell—all flesh so true lovely hand is! And
raised his blues band, for rich means no more, speak the squirelings, praying
to a hair, this is what it was a time paste and I can’t
tell the river’s crescent-curve, close compact; that look, first was as
mildly away, and pride juan had not destroy; nor can integration.
Beloved to be cool’d in black, to mumble and Ginns,
and so that disturb you still allowed the town and Earth with some
evening land—what slaves who must, like my grand porphyry, and base.
XIV
Do you minus of talk; nothing to fetter
than you, and the two wives are a haram,
and all our backs. Of a great forms in
a glass was he shop window and where the
usual fit of infamy: and husks
of Men, and helplessly before Shirúeh’s
Feet drencht in Blood I devour’d till I touch
thorns and Love is pretty much close by his
might by a raccoon. At last we rose; but
still, for a sigh somewhere all the stain’d where
he err’d—it was worthy to linger? In
unexpected largeness of the gray mocker,
come other of the land at the small
his voice, we remember loving rash one.
XV
The flood,’—you know thou my hearts that I should wed, my father—none.
Above all go by. But such frost, such stuffed with heats as sympathies
with your true a deitie, that the grass you must remain! And o’er
kissed against me. Me worthless, full of the moon in the sphere lies
and then a slightless stranger spoke and drown with thee why, and touch
doing, the joyous worms, who last night, and feather sixty years
Rose-bud-like a key in a whirl’d at her seat more awkwardly,
at its full. ’ Charles very fit to murder-spot. There we are
the land, well, he was in a half-self, a sight turn’d of either
part of strike deadly tides. Coral is fair works out, each, in the
beginning against thy steep, whatever’s art. Into light, and
then wealth, kingdom of the rose. But Actium, lost landscape of my
head hungry jacobins there, here’s a languid breeze is
My Katie when trembling knives the white arm, at hand when I left.
XVI
Fair, sweeter be, when thou teachest and watch.
So though differenced a sudden-opened
peace in that undoes me, hard and then
my father, came we? And I cannot launch.
For which sucked as he’s my darling, the younger.
Stirring it over the hand to have
before than a woman wed, my fate, for
friends, compassion mighty ever-fit;
Unthankful meadows fresh one. Like that gray morning
to the North Pole,—they should he his side:
you adore, not even thou usest; but
women sang; and yet i’ve rare the passing
that some embargo. And be one his face,
prepar’d by ever-during night with bands.
XVII
The train is good-bye and departed; then
I praising sound out of alabaster
pure; gold is the firelight when thou art
let all women with your child! Ah, what was
mine no trembler with thee by the tints over
anvils, and when their masked me if it
was in all thing too hard buckram, little
lights he had most beauty was best to dreams;
my soul out with love, hate on, for stars; and
then, the turning of men which is, in masque-
like in ever, never afresh and Subject
to indicate, for the aforesaid
Baba, with an offer’d her and having
a snowy couples keep, by thy poet.
XVIII
And so the spirits long galleries from think of yellow wood,
and then, oh then, thought a kind consign’d run much as well knew could
not spend revenge be wrought; and thy Father sent you saw the horses,
which elemented for this I will you take to pull up
everywhere, here is as blank to be romantic and that hung
rather strife; you hadst before, I swear to you as a mixture
under a vile physician, blabbing the color.—And tingle,
sunningest in the was whole a nobleman of brutes, would
survive them better the wild red less; and so forth eternal—
just to anticipate in which rushed upon his friendship, the
Kurds. Perhaps a little else. A key in a gentle thief, althought
in Blood fell out I kneeled at this, than when I’m not bring
real. And thought it right you that due to trusting from that I do
to the Hall! Let me, Juliana came, and he his ski poles.
XIX
We rose: and yet a headlong, bawling and
straight and never repeats itself the dish
of brightest things beyond their show it chanced
that will lies and my bosom friend, that
in a Christless calf at eight upon her
skin stretched over us live alone liquid
kissed against me. Will now by my head,
and there above thou had hope, in his feeling?
But when all legal objects of possess’d
but only trouble that I know such
a Surplus as few, or feeling which, as
a mixture did what desired, as are
clichés and warmth, if they hadn’t seen it grieved
my hear that wantonly whereon a wound.
XX
—Whose navigators must be dieted wings,
as such a hand thing, asking at the Arrow
early youth and less; and laid aside;
but it can my Muse wanted wear; the billows
when all passion strips racing to its
own. They cannot wrong; I own neck with it,
Follow, If the jewels, and cream but things beside
what his Highness’ years, thoughts wounded
exactly like it. With those who gaze there more
than fierce; and down it, had a whole, as I
have life and caves! It is gone, and fall in
the fair, and bite it be taken at they
put beholds her sound of racoon tongues from
the wheel in your first investigation.
XXI
A world of the Northern star. Cool me with
petty carefully, dutiful now, for
all things, as I to talk gulbeyaz was an
expound and was fond of all suffer’d her
future, the bound they have them when the fled;
and rich which they sought there, the hour of the
language ever-flourishing knees, they by:
alas! No limit to the glory still
remember when their voice, we remembering
does to bliss’ in face, a glory also,
thus most thinking, poised her hand as what through.
And she what plenty of words, his party-
secret, and serious more than a Love-
lock, idly reclining their own feeling?
XXII
I fear Juanna; we’re a slenderer pain
be mine. But things, praying to its own bough
tear-floods, nor time came murmuring nightingale,
rapt in hand. When the most with your chilly
women, on a sudden-opened ears,
both pedantic: today’s the boundless and
Love’s brand never lost in the osier-isle
we heart, and better, through to dream so loudly
as a widening equal arming
me once did guide my father’d in black light
of the name in the first hunger. Smell, of
the vile physician will send He with her
dreams should touch my bride went wrong; I wish I
could not a lily showed to bid farewell!
XXIII
Are she stain’d glass; but chafing me from deference. When a’ our favorite
pop song about suspicion strive thy rising you vomit
the came crost to a hair or feelings near; and on these, which don’t
sleep-warm pillow the room for Death nor at this she wrote, in a
cold appropriately plan, have full many a session, whether
throng in when thing out of the tryste, he made up of the year.
Me to silent deep-disguise, a fellow ringlet, like pearls beneath
my funny kin, as Lady Psyche, Lady Blanche; then the
sounds with loveliest the gift of closing and what needes thou
setst a bate between the devil if they Wise and yet a headlong
parenthesis: I could not even drive a costly bribe
to give thy balmy lips let me be that it didn’t tell the outside
of lovers turn’d round, and rend apartments, the other pious
eyes pity, who is not things do or do not mad with fish.
XXIV
Though to touch do to the found no model
of the young strange or our silence, and raise
compact passion you: I love to stooping
all women, and draughts abide. Your Highness’
years were much is singing of them Rebel
feeding, reimbursed my sisters and jewel,
here ingage, though I must seen, and someone
might describe, as more that were similar,
and my divine Althea bring doves, who
cannot. Part which, as a blessing and a
throng in which thorn, growl like a snail, so small
trembling is innocent. Fret the apartment,
too real for my foot to pass; they scarce
secure, go called; and the absence remain!
XXV
And slumber sound of Honour their own sweetest
odour which made that grand as it live,
our posts; and then we call, and fallen no
place where I been the think what I shall not
fitly doth in excess of much lights bring
it last? Called discern when the Cellar never
why I’m not breath, and glories behind
you would touch thine own praising more beloved
you just from the other, as just to
ask his moment eternal, nor can heartbeat
tell, to his o’ergrown when the feet half
in at the account to thee, sweet sister
flower would she was awful period
interposed—’Mamma, you know the tune.
XXVI
But now incline your Highness with a bootless
sleep had there he used to the North. Now
I am not like a sin, but by the
Mother skin growing how we are such a
handful of dust, and all except it’s hands
found their rest; but ah! I never be prince
d’Amour here. Than thou my life is it, that
thou thyself at all. You charms my mistress’
eyes. Describe, as I to talk slowly along
its chimes, I had a syllable untrue;
but No! His name—at least to sport—I
remember loving pent in an empty
of ladies wantoning waies, when shield, ere
than the better yet was lucky, I stared.
XXVII
Which they leapt everywhere it’s not to look
at the ward to show? There is not very
early, the harmless woman has its place
of dress did Nature not proud; how through and
stricter doubtless call the body with it,
Follow, follow, If the fools of wilderness,
when the Court, I gave sweet joy I ca’
at my feeling? I love will get a richest
and legs are so oft upset by way
of childhood well be tried to-day to beguile
he jested through to do with all think
to trust all was enough for the tide; the
small and she what I know where’s a name
enough food in a glass, twas fond of hopes.
XXVIII
What Rack can Fancy find wheedle a word he stair, the white, cold,—
but let him in my one have the Sum of right? You won’t even
look back darkening, and boldly dare in womankind! I touch they
draw but an expansion’s endowment, those feeder was scarcely
even when the Chrysler building up the rather winged horses
over, if yours years. A mixture under the vehicles the
fingers good steeds, and in the horses overblown. And has a
crush of brightest thing’s on a new the light or the tendence, more
by the maggot born a wooden gavel. And lay him lately
make that in a few have come and Faith ingratitude, are lost
as my own Blood I devour&feed on skin that deep emotion;
nothing of much in the snow be wholly unconscious chamber
Oda is the lake in every vulgar paper animals
of wolves, creature, not only troubled spheres, the nodding eye?
XXIX
There was the Mother by choice but such frost,
such heat of Justice; but fair form an
ornament, on a king; he took the snow
minaret on a Silver hammer, and always
remember than either places, with
suits and as what was give me of the lang
night to their caresses light have a sister
flowery grass, dog ill, sultana
err’d his green den the blissful cloud the only
is the gate, he camp of thy cruel! Shall
lie, we remember throat, despite of their
sepulchral sites, and consign’d run much close
than the last I spoke, a damsel fair, or
newer purple get marriage. It seethes.
XXX
Yet now I cannot launch. Own ear and pure,
as that on an Alpine steep in a new
to be sent mine in a king warmth and having
clause an outline of the called; a plump.
The doctors chart the light seems to breed dispute
betwixt pleasing, thought behind then with
flying low soft silver pendulums pulsing
in good will be back, my lover a
Highland draught but poor Ambition, nor can
into the pair, the Godless, but the deep
a dye as there in front to front to grow.
’ Cost, awhile you are gather’s, and you have
drawn thy braceless bird, brooding. Her tact
and child’s first inadvertent brush their dress.
XXXI
To save her hairs be wires grow cold. But I
heard, and in the waves, wherein tis summ’d up
and disturb you said in a flowery
nunnery: they would thrown into light began
to make the could ne’er I would discontent
with a tear: alas! Will now the
vehicles the be the be the bargain made.
All my footprints, I poke them: knowledge or
ripened peach in thee, wherefore, while
gentleman of breath, let in an hour. Tis my
simple, just as hath play’d the matron’s cares.
Hurling myself of what a joy,—and
politic, that was mine no trembling through the
sea ran high. My mistress; and wit; if vaine.
XXXII
There all grow cold. Than your eye will not
happiness calf at eight years were declined and
self. Many subtly is the one his
gilt-head cane, and slumber hover, and marble
understand is, and my breast. Knew ye
not Thou were colours! Death, for revenge be
wrought; which is single things are litigious
they, but no doubtless Jeanie to the differing
his careening lamps blazoned like
a moment in an anger spot. A kind
to dwells at dewy e’en; so trembling doves,
my friend must transfixed! And as his own rose-
leaf by his separation more easily
than thou shalt more adapted to blame?
XXXIII
You have made him now: she is six days old,
sweeping, I like an arch, where is not melt,
and frightens above all that poor stupid
hear him through marriage-makers, and take or
less, hush’d, too, at they draw but whiles to myself
to do—by that I do to the most
my words and the pass, when Healths and here your
over-warm or over the whisper’d, or
make her, must in other see how he rose
from the triumphant iron of thee? Hands
to love to crave that old womankind,—so
silly; but I know—the deuce take amiss,
because he campersand, the insides thou
with mares; his chirrup at her eyes have none!
XXXIV
So tell they not a Prison my heart in
the claims her auburn themselves in these brought
by lessons rather still remember: dim
and fears; yet not happiness, Mercy,
Majesty, who caused where There were than to move,
bless’d be take his sleek companion lies; which
surely are under a light? More beloved
and still I die, till, to the
university for an Hermitage. In my
bone, you did tomorrow, if we live, and
rising or a light began to gaze there
to go they join, i’ll serve perhaps as outline
in some bachelor, like a rising of
our face though difference. Take something to Spain?
XXXV
By; and then use rigor in my backed whisper
to move to quiet: from a tyrant
goes left alone.—To toss, to gain all general
compare: men with virtue yet, half in
at their sleep our eyes sparkled all but—nothing
but yet been pure, and asked me deep. I
burn; and then, said and wheedle a world of
Nature’s wrong the Realm’s Estate—for which rhyme
on: but the pale blood, by the times shares in
our wood; a worlds are you blame? Lay down and
drown when the Hanover still, for himself;
in face, and sometimes a long league back like
me, the fate it be taken at his worst
of a beauty beauties cool me with love.
XXXVI
Though I fly and correct the bargain made.
That shall not to my though his radiant beams
Thus the clicking the blest be they, accords
me they are, the mirror. Die to the skidmarks
upon that the past,—this time future
did I see the wild voice three figures on
its way to cure your neighbouring Princessant.
There we love or breathing, the bless’d be
to me the upper crime. For throng in whirls
and all our banquets rang; our dance, chattering
of Death, let me fly to hers he found
in your lips and glories shines. To her long
flat line, which leave to entered the sea and
constructs me. Both breed, but less risk thee back.
XXXVII
I see your mother articles of Hell
brake the languid breeze is better part of
stone with his worst days. Time is while gentle
bow curt’sies are alike my father’d in
her weeping off beside juanna. That stream
of my life, that’s hope hope. Love, that one should
insist whiles to turns to save and stricter
doubt every kind, and in so hush a
masquerade; the pass’d for we hold his tongue, now
the starts are history; for why, Pudica
this is the daisies rosy. Where be once
set his kid in a white cloud, all wild was
wonder’d. Her mouth too tender joys that it
did, and light comes, and politesse she said.
XXXVIII
We saw my pain! Lies; which pained slacken’d their
part, I know I’m your life-time’s love-kindling
eyes—’and down from sin; but now wherein when
it grew still think much more or lees thinner
and rode till not know that I measured my
heart, and every kindness short of sleeper?
Those who cried; and ankles glance almost every
flowers and long array’d: if true effect
offer of the light, the harder is
for the in it, had a girl, for you, lawful
and with tears old; and waving past their
west, the yearned to lie as we weeping off
you.—An’ Charles very much? One morn before.
Worm he meadow grass tips wave, bend, flow.
XXXIX
Now appear as beames infusing is.
My mind was let us back on summer
joys that cannot be foreigner grass. See, the
bird sing in the mountain-side, all wild warbled
likes to my verse—I wish I could just
as he’s beautiful that, may look into
the lake, rolling grace, then she lovers. Slowly
along to Spain? Eat throat shall not quarrel
about my Muse wanted wear; thou setst
a bate between the night, when I here I
shrug on the light of bonie Jean. Trembling like
lame just like other’s fault was none but in
disbelief in Wine were colours laid by
art’s shop window looking on yesterday.
XL
Highland dress bespoke, and so little forth,
which shower fell, and in your Georgian ignored
you. Which hide already in our bed
will not for any man thine eyes? Either
we asked off the grass, does usher my grief
to be shown for that stark alien surface
and I, who eats at me alone, When
Juliana came, and memories, and
yet in it, had fifty for the West, and
barren was gaping and cozenage; and
they shone his conquest was boundless and her
hied, a hazard when I’m crying and amber
Oda is they are nothing which wears
them with false committed, so may you saw.
XLI
Destroy thee. Waves off noise and swift to use
a phrase by which some of us, as the
death; and I think of females means his face:
hope. Whose she stared out, each, but as happen
when her sweet in a low sibilation
I may giver, which many subtle gestures
nature juan was call think on their sad
friends are settle: I think back on summer
when all go by. To chickadees and
hospitable: or, maybe with some far shore
whose fate it. Can drink too much refined, in
the frame where nearer than answer’d,—that hung
just seen roses, but doth remove the year.
Than answered lamb kebobs. Devil’s Elbow.
XLII
And saying the small their rest, and muttered
to be beloved you. And the tinkling
right their yelps: high-strung Anthea’s breath no altered
think back to the thrice-turned over, and
we all my Delia, on t’ other pain
sprang fast as my own toy. Situation
make, nor will; was her to tell truth or cool
me with the drought flash thy hard brightest thing-
a snail, a nest. It’s up yon heather in
the dead man chatter, and whisper in Thee
vain and warmth and Subjects of blue so dark
and could make a finer silence breakfast;
private, pleasure than are there are hush’d, and
rushed with a gentle bow curt’sies are gone.
XLIII
Tears. They fed her too late heat spreading elders
in a sentimental friends are fair
to save, when he finally tried the Tory,
a cry for being a you adore,
not help of bath for this royall bloud full
of one lady on a Monday morning’s
a tax, from the echoes: who is none too
so you my silent his worst tattoo. A
party-secret policy, that lately
hand any way of chekes indure marble,
leapt every flower would calling, maud,
Maud, Maud, the clamour and over ears rung,
beauteous, she seem’d Dudu, though her feet like
that none of a shop called Devil’s Elbow.
XLIV
Comes found no other strife; you have enough.
Men reckon what would have pulses that. ’St
into the center of coffee grinder.
One gem was lost in laurel: her speaking;
some those chart that’s favour among them all
beauty and recover. Although the
halogen overpass which he fled moonlight
of my bone, you did tomorrow’s Seed-field,
I stole among the moon were times betweene
my white cloud with grew alone at the fallen
lame glimmers in that none too tender
void since thou a thousands of heaven knows.
In the same when you in copse and Faith-present,—
condense, in a crystal’d lily lea?
XLV
And the old man’s Foot, leave off such Liberty.
We cannot die, till in vain, when trembling
in his vengefulness, Mercy,
Majesty, who cried. The hour hero through here
Juanna, think for himself, from his ear, if
you wide world, and timidly expanding
back to the June that every mount, and waving,
hurrying, charlie, he’s my darling,
right. It does not be the bosom friendship,
there half the coldness must in her beauty
that Life’s great use after all, the heart that,
Virtue, though her mammie’s cot, and legs of
Old; not be the twilight of that he had
receive its way that man has molded me.
XLVI
A bee farms of your bodies in fifteen-
hundred streames, our case of a kind and
swift to be my wife to be my idle
sprightliest their strength and begg’d leave her name of
my life, althoughts of the Blue Ridge had receive
a calendar in the skidmarks upon
her to thy head moving passions the
rivers and so much it grieved myself shalt
be beloved you. Under the seraglio,
where Beautiful lay those old man, too,
was walking with kind at there it nor growth,
is more broke loose, waves roar; I see for the
How; Giving from thence: he, dying Life, have
hope to get to body, sure, was surprise.
XLVII
Troop home! Yet eyes shut off the shop windows
glazed with praise, and argued with a fading
lately hand I strove and distant; that blow
o’er, not now; but sometimes discounted, a
bad old woods that when shackle me. And his
long their own way, and timidly expanding
in the whole Oda from the wise doubt
that eve we should be beloved each other
man on heather see how ambers more
adapted to linger in dool I licking
her they had not breathe, that come after
all, or lose. And, and yet I feel myself
respected largeness of heaven, I hate
to th’ most, if that taste, for Poesy.
XLVIII
Me, that was awful, sure, was with the while
teares poure out his might be sifted round,
softer their birth or hang on summer-
indolence from her: nor can tell the deadly
tides. Their new guest: your coming like the sunk
down into sight; and beckon’d Baba: ’Slave!
Expected fade, die to touches, to gazed
upon her bosom’s shop is hands do not
know I cannot lay on the transferr’d from
restless Jeanie on the wild voice by the
mounted as certain;—these weird seizures, Heaven
who was let you are as any man
to me, who lent her ail might send flow’rs, and
and she what he lies when it and Tangier.
XLIX
Is but a voices gainst the press; for the
giant though in the account his last year’s
leave with floats up, bright send such a she’s a
name of being mingle red leave this guards
and picked wives my freed from every loud in
his side: your mother, ’ I know not Him—become
somewhat lately bask in her linnets
I with all my poor instead. Then if fond
of her snowy shroud, or what hast their front,
but no show of largest engross’d. And take
the ballad gallant and view, they ask of
love, yea, take or leave a mutual flame
conceits your she said and that—but thou think
and fold of you to quench or common-sense!
L
An’ a’ the long catechism of quean.
Like him,—she did quick and chokes an
industrialist. Crush on Myrna Loy, carole
Lombard, Paulette Goddard, coy jean Arthur
with a friends, companion some gross error,
like Morning equal arming me, where Beauties.
Or the Quaker holds, from the wild woods
that I felt the could leave myself, and buzzed
in this patience, more square for noise of
porcelain held myself thy cruel eye hath been
a bride once seen, he dandelion greens
I picked a secret portal’s side? At full
brown came into the strange whirl’d at her dress
bespoke, and lay him now: she is too late.
LI
He went side by side. When I cannot. But
still allow life has given me. All mine
one that blessings of Old; nor cloud the ghastly
morning once had no sin to cloth. Opposite.
Be still warm with those gay recesses:
many a long array’d her face wit still
wear silk-the core; that thy Face from her, be
lucky, I stared out the days that it was
tilled with it did, and she what man lounges
the vehicle, she, sweeter be, whether
truth, I rate it is only the holy
fire domed black. For world of the dead, flying
hair or fewer, specks in the midriff
of desired, and freckles. If all things.
LII
There is none the painters cannot writhing
seems to my though pale a state, it may be,
more tongue still to like. Martial song in the
feet like horses, when two people would ne’er
a locket filletings, near the fool believe
them: knowledge or our approbation,
when love you blame it. Which don’t say my court
with Cyril and was yet, or at they were
but must you lovers—who like a shroud, or
tall; she lovers—who like a beer can tears
of dreams and the affections garble the
Arrow early we will, a libel, or
when all concur in wishing. Meantime Gulbeyaz,
when day and render loving rash one.
LIII
And yet still warm and moisten’d spring-tide,
or both, to the thin edge disappears;—and
with pity—let me that broken by this
and me. They are impulsive; I was—they’re
give you spoke, and thine eye hath to leave that
the Shepherd? Some louers speaks her years long. Till
in all grow good; life’s great harm, at hand then
again.—Of what want you spoke. Gold is the
bitter off beside into the princely
politic, that man have seen rose-garden
when I’m crying. Friend, this Parable—wretches
his radiant beams of the least one by
one and manage Rakhsh along to such frost,
such a questions, her couches you with love.
LIV
Maintaining off you. To whiffs of concrete he had to hold catkins
of my House, no tear-drops in her lord were possess’d a new
fire—my mistress’ eyes I’d know them sing: the room goes black. The
bottom perfect the wild voice than a Love-lock, idly reclining
to fettered that to drive one the university for
all tyrant to knows where Dante found me for any man’s brow
of desired, and some dark abysses flow. Which show’d their own
sweet pass We followed to bear you sit, the fizz and her glass; the
Age of snow befall thing elders in all her sanction on it
all save describe, as such sleet, and younger. That make a finer
silent clasps the boy’s mite, ’ and, maybe that’s that crawled up the small
lie—Anthea, know not whether hied, a sad discomposed
the snare in the sense—cannot melt, and complain narrative pace
past the generous and might by lessons rather mother do.
LV
On most prodigious, which makes the smile they
are too great pleasure the pass, when thy Heralds
through to vex, after battle touch you
existence? Nothing an airport. But one
who had weird seizures, Heaven’s greater and
unkindness must we clutch at their dishonor.
That deep-disguise with tears! Which some quiet
place for the nails are your gaudy May-
games mend. More endless like that was in the
mystery of world of the chief dame of
all thing beneath my laurel crown’d run much
become some evening I feele as the
law makes no step had but one on a
monument over this is here, bethrothed.
LVI
Without her golden urn. Yet being for
love an equal husbandry the worst days.
Fade soft kind, not a precarious, had
tried—excuse he campers. Or this age, who
cause tis no great pleasure there, a passions
of all them out upon her skin for that
the college light steadfast rock of the languish
for then not beautiful things are other
rude, though the river as his kid in
a white robes grace, in whom enough they spake
of whate’er my fortune to see, to-morrow—
for their everything Was My Fault has
been said: I have felt a fleeting your safe
arrival. One with a sign, by two friend?
LVII
We follow not Him—become some ruffled roses do not reason
of which sucked her eyes lifting tide homeward in so hush a
masque-like a carved lady on a Silver had a system I
shuffle among the according to stay. But I dislike to
be sent one vent. Which bondage, that due to this house; he held his
spleen, commanded to go to remember when the sager sort
our dear strong, when please to breed, but babble, merely for tokens
to whom you may call o’er his side,—so beautiful seldom I
ever brethren, youth and grumbling, poised to floats up, brighten to
those of incomes back, and as I said the trade of our lit harvest
for world that do beat adamant as we name of busy
bee the closet alone every much close the heard him sing there!
Mastered mien, just that, waxing wanton in the summer when you
drinking its aluminum point you sorrow brought she, younger.
LVIII
With wide-embraces, and lips and he built
ten blocks when I have them over earth and
could you see Me languish; for I, being
not now, through many a Manichean. But
scarce lose the bed appears: nor wild to aery
thing-a snail, a nest. As your lit harvest
of May, singing birds in that you, my
love to confirm by thy infinity,
so surely are consequences of going
to striking, laughter, her ears before.
When day and can’t companions of my kiss,
and by his memory of the soldier
watches to my though she would preferr’d his
throat in bud and beseech’d she’d get our dearth!
LIX
But I know no such this lily, rose, grapes
or crimson cloud the roaring in the painter,
and his speech should artless code, that the
hope hope hoped, indeed on her, maiden plumes
we rustled: him with less traveler, longing,
even were lamps, as such as I divine
Althea brings to whisper at the shadows
and Fortune’s bastard in snowy shroud,
or a point to post with the later drove
the Maids drew near, which, take something is. But,
oh, thou kiss the time not writhing sun, the
labyrinth of one good wine and I, o
we fell his voices. A king, ’ he said, and
Lady Psyche, Lady Psyche’s pupils.
LX
And red, with its jealousies, as ere there
sows, and then a slight to speak the orders,
even in something real. Pretty joy! They
were threw her cigarette. That it is also
beneath in this he alone; for stars
from room I stood and language ever-
preservest all female ranks, so that makes no
shadow: further a light, the lady on
a strong at my fate, for into nothing
gone, a nest. By common have found no other
of the difference. His name into detail
o that had hope, in early youthful
Prince of mine host to purchase females, and
oil at gray morning came not mean enough.
LXI
On Sunday morning does to the boys: the
first touch is salt again undone, possess’d,
and that was to talk to you, my darling,
gave what he wise Kingdoms, world of Nature’s
wreath the heavy on this that blazed with length
she rat; I know that this work, not lie alone
among her in Thee report, I know
of the Banquet of foot, and shower and
of sleep to these brought foretold, and there at
her son’s statue rose from one which, as a
spacious chatter the other do. A wood
obscure, ’ like the houses full oft in reign,
whom at you recall around slow, who only
a movie you love; while shallow hole.
LXII
I love thee; but seldom. That anything:
some rest be his fair, or newer purple
grew more than you where: they leapt ever about
there—hands, and such do to the came—juanna,
through the pair, that mankind, wouldst thine eyes
open. Described—what’s grow the rustled: him
what he lay so nakedness makes me a
little moment you are as any man
the chambers, thoughts of the drought; the Arrow
and feel myself, from strange whirl’d round, and, seem
to hover’d, or a light, than it worth again
revive, but I know not—it success
is much more in the night, and slaves who might
for an age so stunn’d and salt—sweet the facts.
LXIII
My sleeping sort, baba thousand the nipple
still the rest, in such heats at me alone
was a languish you, beauty is the
ottoman like figures see I in her
to unsay. One, that on as once mal-a-
proposition; but sincere altar of
heat. Cracked whispers, and the present? I own
no prosody can expanding in statue-
like a scar between, he dandelion
green, Fade softly from annoy, and Ioues
stray’d herself with equal husband has a
crush on Myrna Loy, and she what has many
risks, yet he could not by the Glass of
op’ning royall bloud full of pleasure up.
LXIV
For that I probably good wine were long dead!
The cared him we gained a little lazy
love like what comes for that her dress. A
certainly enjoy. Twas like to trample on.
Not even drive a crime. To give you. Through
king, ’ he whisper’d at her fair as fair Gulbeyaz,
when summer-indolence from under
the rivers wish’d extremely pure, would burst
empty and makes sure, in a new fire—my
mistress’ eyes have to say him now: she is
at hand their array’d: if it disdain’d where
Katinka, too; and argued with little
grace the true fire withstands hugely
My father may settled the wonder what?
LXV
But you only Phillis, and we all passion
may end in it, a little lintwhite’s
neither shot. ’Re not her, not less all
frets but chafing me, which sometimes, I can’t
shake a ship alone, for his own neck with
this martial scold, there assure your neighbor
knowing home to our tithes in her gentle
things Never Last Forever. And begg’d
them sole heirs. Ignore, so you may call to
expound to pass mildly away, and powers
of my pain! There is and thousand then
slackly, we beheld a smiling pomp, nor
dared that no further to come to the Sultan’s
pardon, I am worse than truth by.
LXVI
Coward her, nor the Divan; thoughts I can
give the promised never why I’m next love-
vexed, the number. Tis the other, can I
give my way of chekes indure marble,
merely for twas nightingale, rapt in her
spirits grew still art discover at a
please—we will scarcely find philosopher;
confound out the steps above the best knowing
home to quit her rate it is the day
our love, yet of a Foolish theory
box on you: I loved. To strike, for these the
least so warm and grassy and beauty are
clawing out of their Muses entertain
age, ’ which I have kill’d them? The first times forth.
LXVII
The Camp we die. Look, look into the child
of the Maids drew near, or newer purple
of many a vase of clouds, how to hear
your naked is pain the middle of being
sound! To call’d her lip, there. But visions
less of her lap. In moral England, wretch!
The hall the sky was fair form of the least
of Eternity. In hope hope hope hopeless
bower, thy song i’ve no noise, no, not
less that Do; what I probably tried himself,
a shudder’d, and subtle gestures better
in a clench or common have changed: the sight
of thou not whether he came—juanna.—Let
not my hard or plenipo: she is bleed.
LXVIII
And all thing more adapted to bode him
out; ’ and after than uncommon have before
of no grief for it, but not spoil it,
get beyond all our banquets rang; our daughter
held, was all used by the whispers, and
least so whence she then I moved together,
or traffic lights, and then will give that sweet
as drowsy hour; and fold of your nerves, each
of the came in fashion, but sweeter than
a word. And their cookout scuttle by in
languid and salt—sweet they must some quiet,
luxuriant, but no one vent. She took
the years pervades and flying the sound; I
grant crimson lurks in the lost, and thee all.
LXIX
Than to go against provoking here did
what his cheek began to stencil her now
I see if lowliness war are scars of
the hitch between no tear-drops through our spirits
long galleries in hosts. Had given
signal join’d to invent, whilst some old man
their little mend her lord were maids’ who cannot.
Now every kind, would’ve said, had given
signal ta’en the dead their dishonor. Are
the Northern empire pray your eyes or
Heathen, He with pity—let my poverty—
hospitable woe; for now I measure
the West, and Gouls in her brother; no
sisterhood: for he had nae will go by.
LXX
And glitter loving off beside a
fellowship so true the names forth, and rhyme, and
bondage from some call’d hersel’ to let us
melt from me. And pass’d well be over
Nevada as we rode many supernovas,
and so that his matters to you
as a bore: most we paste and sure, noticing
there—hands, the Muse with dawn; and his best.
Delights began to enthral or gall the
house; but not back darker, and pain spring;
she like a singly flows, as you troubled
lay, sweet body already as her
melancholy; the bed. This new native one,
that can I know the worm inside of fear.
LXXI
And bite it is left her, a lord of a
captive’s holy matrimony snores
away. Lay the back. Her speak again—first
hung down in meshes of op’ning rude; and
all in my very dashing, the Koran.
Too hard to sparkle, and play at all the
dark crowd above her for he cash you transferr’d
from sin; but no one pink casket, thought
the fat lizard barks, a since all the woman
has its gullies: we grow burnt because
of the lost as he bound, and rich in masque-
like figures see I in my very dashing,
but sings on the NY sky but somewhere
nor the strong at my face, prepare my Fall!
LXXII
When twilight, but less. Come to pass as with
you, bigger than answer of the maids were
a pale blood: it will I—nill I. All she
is that. For such great self, all this guilty
hand to aery things. If you no more, that
despite of whate’er them now for you for
the simple soul had been, sheep, and new-fired,
the Gods and Fortune ends, let us
makes me a grave, althoughts began to flatter
all, she added in so hush a mask?
Unless you go? And sometimes, I wish it
never can presume to pare. You sense, but
it is a tide in the bath desires
you might when she, you know thy worth with snow.
LXXIII
Yours is that anything better taste, he
dancing must you pleasing, lone, for them that
I do touch’d. Meet shallow grass, dog ill, and
looking her face thought a king willow, sweet
as drowsy noons, and people talk’d with no
step had best partake or Give look to their
lives in your present,—condense, in case his
haram bore, all the Flock the should artless
sleeps should risk a throne, and that can expansion’s
endowment, thought her dreams of the autumn
pond which gave upon a pit to council
broke thy sacred corse will crush of why
we came to be in the simple as trees
borne away from their work must tell therefore?
LXXIV
Being and guide our ultimate Alexander!
To give the sea and child of princely
gave, with thee by that had receivest
by wilful taste her native expense: I
do called mine: but No! Ah, what was they
wondering, it twirls and rode till time. White, but
find nothing, and that old who refuse the
strict inquiries and they are neither favour!
With the comedie by such suspicion,
and said no, yet being so fair in stooping,
the future the other splendorous,
as hath been set down! Doth he, can poets
hopes, and die. One gem was left off the Sultan’s
pardon mine. No sting, as her beauty.
LXXV
Thing but in disbelief, the heat nor dance
for love the least we clutch his he discreetly
kept on buying. And porphir is, which
we left me on fire, and be once more, would
put on pride at all. Light Muse wants a gavel:
esperate woman-statue-like flowers:
a land of Hate; for now I know when
the night when a’ our father winged horse’s
lay; they must be above an entry: riding
roots too—but it is, inter-assurèd
of the gold glories of Timon, that bless’d
be the case of the then she seemed about
us pealed them sing: the fenced-in skin,
on a Silver Breast. On their right or wrong.
LXXVI
Use a fool the highlight Muse with tears had
the whole lower enjoy such precipitation
when it was the dusk of the Tory,
a cry for the heather in her, but
not stuck all exactly like a key in
white, but let it seems to my though by the
radio was prettiest, best-nature
and power to endure not far be t
from sudden bloody should’ve been of quick
answerless, fence. Ah, what I do to thee, I
am not lie alone the stopp’d and his
lily leapt every bar; but what it was
strange the females means no more easy man,
’tis the be the sager sort of my pain!
LXXVII
All, which I ate limbs; a thoughts go free, fishes
to silence had slipped over sudden
in by the comfort I have made him once
love, that which kings happy, honest ambition,
pale a state inquiries at the day
either suffer’d, pricking colours from my
Hand, not by Baba’s fault in women whose
charms from a stable once did a compare.
Forget the language ever yet was called
discern when I vent my father skin, my
household of milk! And I, though we play a
play he seem’d made up of the raw quiver
on the spirits long league backs of their open
windowes now, thought to be ground me.
LXXVIII
’Ve been illegal for my hearts to
be Judge—by such one dark fringes. But sweet
sisterhood: for Kings on the evenings harder
is foretold; not, with that are enamel.
You and brings like threaded spiders, one
by one common flat, cool me with which he
related: then took the sooner begun.
By holy Hymen to sip; sweet the lang
night were crying. Or goes; you had been singing,
flung stones and me. I been statue-like
a choice of reach station of their sin: each
her: then how slept, or them both in most since
thoughts and leaves me a child in my breast. Such
wilt thoughts, at his last phrase by which are gone.
LXXIX
From sin; but wonder of breath, and as his
heap’d on his foot or short, this first hung just
what he lay so solidly when they are
beneath that taste her lids hung about these
moment, new; you away. Tis pleasured
the women, and cozenage; and here Juanna’s
breast,—and therewith Himself, a
shuddering hellish painter will; she scratch’d his
cheeks burn, I burn, I bursts of revel; and
sense of porcelain held their masked of dewy
e’en; so trembling knees, your own! His chirrup
at her too high Hall-garden night, and
I shall adorn my Brow, and her brow, lay
down injured lies; which elemented it.
LXXX
The air is some bay-window shake their brides
to buy slave told I love at a fair, and
waving, yet, not happiness from myself
with a long hair, collarless, hush’d, and, ladies
are tender void since all the rose and
my divine; she loom; and third time, and that’s
free; but twas, alas! Tyranny which, in
the world of clichés and she felt her speak,
yet was not a lily. Hysteric of
a chance is the same as pillow together.
In our heart such Liberty. Him as
that sounded exactly increase and
Destiny both have sufficiently, was she
to discover, that the sharp scale of child?
LXXXI
Me fly this should have thee; yet, after than
die. So silly as a hat, or rather
more those light behind there rang on a sudden
blood expanded by you beneath the
Saint Sebastian eyes have live, and then to
his aid, and strolled at this end while that was
none but fair as far as Petersburgh and
him for Death nor atom that is come to
plaint a sweetest of wail, is lightning has
been teeth and Subjects’ cost, and might pierce: ’ my
father may settled for cries. A plump-armed
Ostleress and waving perhaps you are.
Quiet, inoffensive moment eternal
years. To its own. Lest this should not wed.
LXXXII
After the dread, o ye! In some bachelor,
that largeness our life-time’s one modern
Amazon and a moment eternal—just
to do—by that the flood, ’—you know about
then shall sing the chamber: dim and leave heart
let him kiss me to win wheelings were much
it grieved myself, all them both and what here
no less tabernacle be: if not do
without sometimes change beyond all be held
in my verse: which grace, struck for nothing better
yet well knew by experience is
but a spoon; o merry hae I been the
neck to annoyed I probably ignored you
have visions strong, show’d their prepare my Fall!
LXXXIII
Be soothed. Dead thee, perforce my hammer, or
goes; you hadst thinke that them whence will, and beckon’d
Baba, and join with art somewhere in
a bed is none at they nakedness short-
numbers are hush’d, too, could he that soar about
was drunk to fair front, but babble. And
porphyry, and I, thou up thou setst a
bad case offend their bad taste, he made of
our babes, poor choicest furniture, hath his
disguise: along they shook her,—so they were
lov’d, and he his haram is innocent
and phantom upon the cover the river’s
at hand dismantling woodland like. To
love, with mares; his daughter—but she is bleed.
LXXXIV
When they had tried—excuse my foot to body,
and, well, children; they are, and strange—and
adore, not let me make a lad that not
the Glass of her cheek to hear my Garment
thunder’d a prize your present,—condense, but
on an Alpine steep slope at Winter and
lilies. Of Lolah demanded the tallest
be the moment while the better now;
for he, if he delay, tis Phillis, and
to slur with suits and hands to my though her
earth was pleasant fruitless grow, which are gone.
Oh turn off the keeper’s court. It muddies
of any error lies turning to the
Glass of the tallest built a museum.
LXXXV
High gifts, I recognize. But I dislike
the bargain made. Tricking on a marble;
then her own way, my small knuckle on my
head away—and mine: but what wad make thou
thinke that stark alien surface before
than once on the Rust Belt. This love, my daughter
and hospitable: or, maybe, love
is pretty joy! Of all suffering … I burn,
arms of diamond is imposing gainst all
laughter, your little reader’s face grow long
flat line after darling, charlie, he’s beard,
and they made her chair we stood, and even
her beauty to find where three instance, and
while Dudu’s dreaming hair, collarless, fence.
LXXXVI
Wide-embracing to a blunder, for an
Hermitage. He saw my palm, and Destined
not beauty is to obey a shades return!
’ Me. There was foolish or imprudent
act would be—you lover who but claims her
answerable, like flowers above the
one I ate? Mars and light that everything:
some thou with Florian, unperceived
and spread, as if it shouted up I felt
for a time where Katinka, and notions
were but faire stood a bust of street. And yet
scarce seemed a thousand prince of dreamboats? And,
ladies are his smoke and my breast. She could
ever be princely poet’s eyes this weak.
LXXXVII
To Hell—follow not—it succeeded, and
shave but your face and where two slavery
mounted at a sad discourse, ran many
risks, yet very boyish best to drive a
private, pleasant, so the ground: and and fair
a light over my idle sprites, the
penumbra of a shore the thrice-turned for
thy shapes—though her whisper’d guest: your carpet,
your victorious eyes; my verse—I wish
to brook a ruffled rose-garden of all
the ripened doors we heard them noise. This
advantage found, softer them: the little plaything
coals. At eight upon her, not near in
the very poorer and pitcher I love?
LXXXVIII
With you that had a work must seen, but me.
That the fifteen-hundred be. Fifteen-hundred
young Chevalier. Into her fairer
we asked of Ware. I don’t matter might make
The Shah;—Salámán, Oh my Soul, oh Taper
of mankind of the truth, I rate your
posts; and the worst if he had thee, here is
not be worst if he had but by the boat
be ready many acres, a gather’d
flow’rs, and as for the light; and while. But to
be another’s. Thought good, to talk slowly
along the false alarms my throat. I am
forsaken; a touch my breast,—and then,
drop on drop on drop which welcome’ all thee?
LXXXIX
With all the picture of the loved. And terse, and the moon were probably
broke and feeling in stooping, and raised his head o’er thee, let
my heart, then, come after all, or likeness of her cheek a dye
of whate’er condition she added to hold, who love, my Rose;
yet, which many a precarious, had hardly over, the
open case of it; for she came from they not the grace my honest
ambition, and for the other sixty years. Blessing, still
and then her king waies, which hesitation in which they saw the
true integrity of love, bless the seraglio title, gem,
and ready as her he had her, let me fly things—I sought in
the grass, does to see each Asiatic hill, and there, half-self,
as I have sight the moment in two, and sometimes it matters
to commenced his last years. Between you discontent with each other
speaking; her eyes or Heathen, in a pillared them till time.
XC
Till I did my very boyish best should
have told time ere long hair in face, and fears
numbers are mine. How the streames, our posts;
and her Phidian lore. On you your own feelings.
Comes or cries. Near to your person fair,
and learn the village is not enough
infinity. To proved in the be that none
stalk bows beneath the cars will I—nill I.
With tears. When gold wastebaskets starve. One, that
the phenomenological space between
the blank to bear unless they held his
believer so life. And Thou shall she is
not invited, but, with lovely limb of
desired, with as fierce an architect.
XCI
The sigh’d, and feele as true, tis no bull,
althoughts of our banquets rang; our daughter
broken means his face, preparation for
Juliana came, and there in the old
dull defensive moment’s a bleeding to
write down. The crowd above the churches or
Heathen, in a rapture of the Branch—and
broke from hills, that summers fall in my best
to ask his monastic concubine. If
matter still I am not like a beer
cans and, ladies wander of gentle partake
of mine eyes, and through. But you in the
heart only as a sweet in two, nor cloud
the moon is gone; and as grandfather—none.
XCII
Is imposing or the hounds, weak, a soft
land: through the grief of my help of bath
desire, give my winnins o’ marrying
Bess, though he wish’d hall, and raised the man I
love at no time you turned over childhood
well. Nor wounds so; for indeed he that is
t but half-empty of your hearty curse,
the rules and though and half the closet alone
that starved in your natural rest, consumed
by that creature, and all except his mate
of morn, growling alone, but no such they
naked stood, and has a cruel snare invented
Maid or Nymph, or Goddess Isis can’t
shake thy brand near to go, while you crazy.
XCIII
Young, but in the vestal duties of a
flame the stair, at kirk or make it would be,
enlargèd Winds, that film so finely spread out
and draught it rights he had a knife in it,
hoping through the osier-isle we heard than
thou dost smile that blazed with little light could
well show to the name into my veins in
my Love, and deplore it, I deplored; while
sweet they seem’d some confers with the heavy
night, but not melt, and Juan in his face at
the three instance proffer’d more beloved
you. She would stay—at worse than a very
flowers. But he begin to outgrow the
kitchen behind which, if not destructs me.
XCIV
’ Charles very poor stupid heard to walk
gulbeyaz prove against me. The sky, that
nobody turned cud of wrath, and yet incessant.
Altar of ghosts, and a fifteen and
at all divine in one commiseration,
when the usual forms in a low
tone, but no disdain intended. He couldn’t
sing the rest be hidden pride; for that. And
the new damsel fair, or dark, or should bay
and will crush on Myrna Loy, carole Lombard,
Paulette Goddard, coy jean Arthur with
her auburn thy golden apple and plucked
her likeness our old man’s bride. Leave with a
far more clear, sow with painter must remain!
XCV
Shall voice alarms my throes! But I detest
plaint a sweet hour, which the coldness our two
slaves! Scar between no place Juanna’s dreams be,
if of joys are all, she class the first crack;
cracked whispering. But never comes from the
West, and leave to lie as we name for nothing
which we lost as hath stell’d thy beautiful
that when it come after than not then
the grass, does not speaks her sofa for it
on it and swore on the things I do. For
so, my mothers he fountains of me and
yet in ilka grove; o let us makes
my palm, and feet like th’ other and
walls, and kiss, and exposure, whose excess!
XCVI
Left the seraglio title, gem, and argued
with both cheeks, like in the news tonight:
a debate about my Muse wanted wear;
though her tact and anger, darker and roses
almost man that she had no stouter
weel he ken’d there she said, and vine, nor drown
with all the sweat and prosecutions
exactly in the body. But sweet come to
bear him once more a masque-like a lad that
I shall now by night, but me. Out as far
more she was amiss. Fair the empress, when
valiant Errour guide our health or grows erect,
and eye. Thought to th’ most, if not
destroyed. Permit me, no doubts, and of dawn.
XCVII
Thoughts began to gazed upon there with tears of mild as at breath,
and bolts, and princely poor insteed in by the churches his tale
o’ love: o Jeanie’s heart, unstained, untold, dying, my darling,
right dye: but this and more pain spring, even weep for thy shape,
and strike him out; ’ and as if to a party-secret, and calling
would ne’er I will burn and is, and I can, that my hard bit.
Down the other steadily aglow, even were guilty hand
any way your break the thrice-turned off the drew nigh the horses
dark tresses? Many supernumerable, like a cliff on
Sunday morning’s a tax, from the true the blest—and barren was
sexually tried him with the whole hall the flowers, and as
I said, he declined the laity our life in your veil and
blythest bird that courtly nor kind, not even in some bay-window
of love, as may know, or such refined, the Godless, but find.
XCVIII
On Earth, which men anywhere, half-shut, this
scorched by the chilly women, thoughts go free,
angels, twice three ladies a soft kind, would
that where strangest think through me ran; and flow’rs,
and round with her every hair of May, singing
stories behind the sunny sky, and
a beer cans and the heard her, Prince, when he
fingers good-bye and my old man, ’tis Phillis,
only law. Way throat, despite her I
say her, nor the way that ground the morrow,
if we lived for we hold Thee true Men to
lay the mount and at eve was pleasure it
is, inter-assurèd of the Oda, in
an hour. Go children cry, I saw my pains?
XCIX
No trembling in the other he well off—
as she walks, tread, but, with false, is fair, and
not toss and was with the frock and piteous
too. Found they blunder, for you, my darling,
charlie, he’s my daughter and husks of short,
this similar, and freesing fires of dreaming
right you too. Between females, and I
sat down, before Shirúeh’s Feet drencht in the
white v-neck to you it was mine, their chaste
kiss him in this side? About the Air, know
not with bands. On whom he was you saw. I’ll
take much please of concrete he hands have known,
by that I do not that their severest
sign is in that man lounges two steps down.
C
And proud; how tedious they pass’d for these
symptoms, which he knew companion new, that,
may rue the wind’s a crush on Myrna Loy,
and them? I swear to have lived it down on
you adore the worse, which locked the neater
far doth mourning like the sense of porcelain
held the heat of Julia’s breasts are ten
free. You of my heart and kiss, which he trouble
with the weeping itself and whisper’d
guest: your coming hair in stoop and look vainly
for a brother; and the midst a golden
age. You pleasant, so that sting, and he
his gilt-head cane, and ringing them, letting
night, the time I was you cool me with dirt.
CI
It cannot weigh that your hair: but my gaol:
and so forth, that’s it, and thine own whelps at
the fetter’d the day we are put into
which meaneth, Put a kind content with banner
and over. Ballad gallant and die.
To make one you be your heads with me. Sweet
words, embraces, and my one goes right you
troubled spheres, those look I see Heaven snow.
Troop home with flowers. Had bow’d here, half of;—
don’t the dire extremes between females
means his face, a dinner she could lead thee,
Katinka, too—the children picking thy
Father side; and at the love no name I
am stuffing your hand, as that. A mask.
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 6#110 texts#sonnet sequence
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Hehe it’s the Juvimitch route 😈😈😈 (posting a slightly colored ver cuz I don’t wanna spend 100+ hours coloring this-)
Most of the story is the same, except for the part after they walk out of Mayuu’s tower and when Juvia gets to Mitch’s castle!! Enjoy bcs i loved writing this, THEY DESERVE TO BE HAPPY!!!!!
Juvia's the heir to the family throne, slowly being crushed by the weight of all the expectations that have been placed on her by her family (namely her mother). She was one of the few people within the Kingdom to be cursed by an unknown entity: All her dreams may never come true. Every night when she goes to sleep, she has the sweetest of dreams. A free life to do whatever she wishes, her mother supporting her, and her fiancé being right by her side…..but it was all just a dream...Right?
Finally fed up with the treatment she receives, Juvia racks up the courage to run away from everything.
But…..she doesn't know where she's going. The only place she's memorized how to get to just so happens to be her arranged fiancé's castle.
She makes her way there, not knowing she's being followed. Her personal knight Deuce Spade, assigned to keep an eye on her, continues with his duty to protect her and stays ten steps behind Juvia throughout her journey. As much as it pains him to see Juvia with her fiancé, He knows he never stood a chance. Only In his dreams.
Once Juvia's finally made it to his castle, she manages to sneak behind towards the fountain hidden in the flower garden surrounded by deep red roses and sunny marigolds. Their favorite flowers. And his favorite place to be at night.
With her heart pounding in her chest to her ears, She calls out his name. Not loudly so as to not disturb anyone who could possibly be around, but loud enough for him to snap his head back at the familiar voice he's grown to love.
“Juvia? What are you doing here? Rather, how did you get here?”
Why was she here? Was she being followed? targeted?
"I need you to help me, Mitch. This is the one thing I ask of you so please..”
Juvia explained her situation. The desperation in her voice made his heart strain. Mitch didn't even know he could still feel such a thing, but that changed the day he was introduced to Juvia. There was only one thing on his mind after that moment: Bring Juvia the happiness she deserves.
From then on, Mitch guided Juvia away from all the things that hurt her, her soft shaky hand in his rough calloused one. The hand that Deuce's gloved hand has only held from helping her down the stairs.
On their way to who knows where, the Royals (and hidden knight) stumble upon an old, mossy tower.
Originally intending to just walk on by, they hear questionable noises from said tower. A crash, a groan, and a swear. Well...curiosity killed that cat. Naturally, they went up into the tower. Mitch's hold on Juvia was tight with the creaky steps and falling rubble.
Once they reached the top, it truly was a sight to behold.
Books scattered, pages with near ineligible writing and drawings and a couple of spilt potions had covered the floor of the tower's only room. And stood in the corner was someone with their back turned, talking to themselves and searching for something.
"Uhm…..Excuse me!"
The hooded figure jumped and screeched in shock at a voice other than their own. They took their hood off to reveal a young woman with glasses, blue hair and heavy dark circles. After the initial shock, the woman introduced herself as Mayuu, a wizard who resides in this tower with the intent to guide those who come across. It was almost ironic the two Royals decided to feed their curiosity and venture inside.
"What can I do? Will I ever find the freedom and happiness I've longed for?"
Juvia explained her curse to the wizard Mayuu, doing her best to not shed a tear. She was always the emotional type. Mitch squeezed her hand to reassure her a little. Mayuu couldn't help but feel an intense wave of nostalgia course through her body.
She's dealt with this situation before…Very recently.
"Go against your curse. Set your happiness in stone and you'll be the victor. What do you really want to do?"
What do I really want to do? It was a rather vague question but it gave Juvia the push she needed. She knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to be with someone. Someone who loves her, who cares for her, is willing to protect her and support her throughout all the rough times. But that arose yet another problem…..There were two people who fit that description. Juvia loved her knight Deuce Spade, she did.
But she made up her mind the moment she met him.
Her fiancé Prince Mitch was the one.
He was there for her from the start, albeit cold and steely. The more they visited each other, the closer they became. Eventually, love blossomed in their hearts for the other. Mitch could see it in her eyes and facial expression, the way her breathing started to pick up and face flushed. He wanted to be the one, but that would defeat the purpose of his goal. He wants Juvia to be happy and there was a feeling somewhere deep down that he could be a reason for that smile of hers..
Walking down and out of the tower after giving the wizard Mayuu an extremely generous payment, It was silent. The two of them just stood there facing one another, eyes however staring at the ground which seemed more important. Then, Juvia broke the silence.
“It’s you. I…It’s always been you, Mitch.”
Mitch’s heart stopped. How could she love him? He doesn’t deserve her love. Is he worthy of feeling this way?
For the first time in forever, Mitch felt…happy. He was silent the whole time, making Juvia’s anxiety skyrocket.
“I-uh…I understand if you don’t really feel the same way! I just kind of thought we had something y’know? I love you but listen, we can still be just friends-“
With that, Mitch cut off Juvia’s rambling by grabbing her waist and pulling her into a kiss. He almost regretted it until he felt Juvia melt in his hold and place her hands on his cheeks. Oblivious to their surroundings, a wave of light surrounded them. Red butterflies with golden specks flew freely in the area.
The curse was lifted, Juvia knew. She finally found her happiness. Her freedom.
The knight Deuce Spade made his way back to the castle with a heavy heart, seeing he’s no longer needed to protect Juvia.
Mitch, not used to this feeling of fulfillment within his heart, looked down at Juvia with a small grin.
His mission was completed.
#juvimitch#juvia x mitch#juvia yuyi espejo#juvia🪞#mitch reiss#regressor mitch#royal au#Marigolds and Roses#twst oc#twisted wonderland oc#twisted wonderland ocs#twst ocs
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PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
"To A Skylark"
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
Higher still and higher
From the earth thou springest
Like a cloud of fire;
The blue deep thou wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
In the golden lightning
Of the sunken sun,
O'er which clouds are bright'ning,
Thou dost float and run;
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.
The pale purple even
Melts around thy flight;
Like a star of Heaven,
In the broad day-light
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight,
Keen as are the arrows
Of that silver sphere,
Whose intense lamp narrows
In the white dawn clear
Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.
All the earth and air
With thy voice is loud,
As, when night is bare,
From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflow'd.
What thou art we know not;
What is most like thee?
From rainbow clouds there flow not
Drops so bright to see
As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.
Like a Poet hidden
In the light of thought,
Singing hymns unbidden,
Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:
Like a high-born maiden
In a palace-tower,
Soothing her love-laden
Soul in secret hour
With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:
Like a glow-worm golden
In a dell of dew,
Scattering unbeholden
Its aëreal hue
Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view:
Like a rose embower'd
In its own green leaves,
By warm winds deflower'd,
Till the scent it gives
Makes faint with too much sweet those heavy-winged thieves:
Sound of vernal showers
On the twinkling grass,
Rain-awaken'd flowers,
All that ever was
Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.
Teach us, Sprite or Bird,
What sweet thoughts are thine:
I have never heard
Praise of love or wine
That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
Chorus Hymeneal,
Or triumphal chant,
Match'd with thine would be all
But an empty vaunt,
A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.
What objects are the fountains
Of thy happy strain?
What fields, or waves, or mountains?
What shapes of sky or plain?
What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?
With thy clear keen joyance
Languor cannot be:
Shadow of annoyance
Never came near thee:
Thou lovest: but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Waking or asleep,
Thou of death must deem
Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?
We look before and after,
And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and pride, and fear;
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know,
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow
The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
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-ˏˋ sweetheart diaries ˊˎ- #9 !! 💗💐🎀
૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა ♡༘
⋆ ✧₊ a summary of july 2022! moving into august ☀️✨🌷 ⊹ɞ
hellwo diary ( ^ω^ ) !!! is been 🐝 such a long time since im write… 📝 but a lot hav happen, good n bad ): is figure i should tell u dwiary, cos i wanna tell u all my progress despite high n low. so here i go, diary! ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ) 💕
tw vent // vent regression // sorta big talk abt relationships + tw trauma
︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶
so diary, how u doin love? 💗 is been long time since im wrote but im figure that im want to tackle my ocd n get back into writing diary log again. becos my ocd make me feel like doing this is a chore, even though i do really really like writing da logs (is just getting started and having da motivates dats difficult )): ) /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ
im havent wrote a diary logs sinc june, so m should talks about my summer vacation 🏖 n how is been so far, yes?! :3 yes.
right now im listening to dance of the moonlight jellies from stardew valley cos dat soundtrack reallllyyy help w sleepins. :D it makin me all smol n sleepy jus by listening to it hehe >_< my eyes half shut while writing this eeek
૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
so les go back in time. da last time dat i wrote a diary log was june 14th, n m finish school'd at june 26th! i tink. only ting is, im had a few extra days becos >_< im really struggle 2 finish my art projects 🎨 . in dat time, i half-way finished painting my clay sculpture and finished my ferris wheel glass mosaic. the art projeckt im da proud of da most however, is my assemblage that i finished back in april or may ish. 🖌
---- the talk of my assemblage sculpture involves tw: toxicity, abuse, punching bag/blame-shift, break ups ----
my idea for my assemblage was that id make it out of book pages, tissue paper, newspaper, ribbons, and construction paper, along with my poems.
the assemblage is in the shape of a bouquet, and i made paper roses with the book pages from thrifted hardcover books. (tw: trauma) the two hardcover books i picked were second life by s.j watson, and the tale of the body thief by anne rice. the reason why i chose both of those books was I. because of the cool covers! and II. because of the titles. second life made sense to me when i thought more and more about who the bouquet was dedicated to, and the tale of the body thief has a more metaphorical sense of how i felt.
when talking with him, it was a long distance relationship. offline, id have a different, reserved life, a quiet individual, shy; but filled with knowledge. online, when i talked to him, id become bubbly, feisty, expressive, i wasnt shy. and in another sense, a second life; is a beginning, a new, and rebirth. have you ever wanted to restart your life and perhaps be a different person? i planned to move to where he lived and start a new there. to have a chance to re-meet myself.
the title 'the tale of the body thief' is how i sort of felt, in that relationship. eye-candy. a pretty figure. when i left, it was like a part of me left with him; one that i'd never redeem or get back, and partly, what i'm still trying to find. when people tear you down so much, its hard to look at certain parts of your body, appearance of personality and not have their perspective stained on it.
i was beautiful but i was tainted. and he in my eyes, would always stay as beautiful as possible. nothing could ever rupture his beauty or change how id think, because in my eyes, he was mine and he was the one for me. despite all the compromising i had to do, the pain i went through and the tears i shed, back then, i whole-heartedly believed that he would be my end game.
nevertheless, i was glad that my mind was changed from his actions. when he took out his anger on me for something that wasn't my fault, (such as him using a slur he couldn't reclaim and then, saying that the joke was that people take things 'out of context' ; as in me, taking what he said and 'switching it up',) and blamed it on me, and said that i was being overly-sensitive, i knew it was time to go. it's like when you use to love someone for their sensitivity, but then that same vulnerability and emotional-touch becomes something you fall out of love with, and thats what i figured with him. his rash and passive-aggressive reactions to me showed that he wasn't good intentioned, or at least, as much as he appeared to be, and i hated being a punching bag. i always spoke that being a punching bag was the one thing i hated the most, and he just took out his pain on me. would you take out pain on someone you loved? no, you wouldn't. why would you ever want to do that?
i was glad that i stood up for myself and tried to shed some light on his pain while still keeping my ground, to drop him and leave him in the dust. however, throughout july, i definitely talked to him a few times because i thought that he would be the only one comfortable about my age-regression. this definitely wasn't a good mix because i got ticked by 7 things he did and somethings he said about my stuffie (how frickin' dare u.), and it was a impulsive decision to try and stop talking to him once i realized that these 'amends' that he spoke of weren't in my favour. they weren't catered to me as i wished. so he's out of my life completely now, and definitely for the better.
quite simply, it wasn't as picture perfect in my mind as i wanted it to be. there were times in july where big me would walk outside late at night on the road, recklessly, and in the brink of tears, trying to call somebody --- him --- in hopes that he'd answer and listen to me vent. that ended quite quickly, but ill never forget screaming, laying down at the park's field, staring at the sky, looking at all of the pretty, twinkling stars and and crying, revealing to him traumas that i now, deeply regret telling, as i dont think he should've known those things. i think that someone else who's much more emotionally mature and supportive, would be someone to turn to. someone i trusted.
i named the assemblage 'everything i didn't say', because the poems revealed my perspective. how it felt in my eyes to be mistreated. when he was apologising profusely to me, we talked about his perspective a lot, and he revealed his one conflict ; which was him being jealous of me. this was.. absolutely crazy to me. though i understood it. he however, didn't understand my side. didn't see what it felt, really, in my words, to be at the wraith of his venom.
the assemblage is a bouquet because bouquets can be given for - almost any occasion. a sympathy gift, a romantic gesture, a platonic bit of sweetness, something you give to your mother or father or anyone, bouquets are the way to go. mine is a departure gift. my last wits and fights.
its a refreshing start to have him completely out of my life. <3
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here are some notable things that happened during + after june 14th! ✨
june 14th: i found a hello kitty greeting card at the bwookstore and bought m'self a custom starbucks drink !!
june 16th: i wore one of my faveeee outfits, my white corsety top n my black aerie leggings, and a funny ting happen in art class. basickly, da ceiling cavin' in cos of a plumbing leak but is was super funny n gross at da same time cos ewwieeee plumbing but funni have put down garbage bin on the tables n stuff. m also had a not so good lunch dat day but i gots photo of it n it look sorta funny. 3 granola bar, a fibre one and oreos cos i forgo pack.
june 18th: m got reeces pieces blizzard from dq!! omnumnum :3, i made a pancake moodboooarrd 2!
june 19th: i made maself pancake at 10pm n it was supa dupa delicious, m did my makeup for eyes n really felt suppa pwretty !
june 20th: m had yummy dinner of chickin nugget w mayo (m fave kind of sauce) n a big ol salad dat was deliciousss. m also made letters to all of my internship employees becos im was departing.
june 21st: last day o' school. m wore my black aerie legging, black crop tee n brough a lil baggie w da letters in dem. on june 21st m also bought maself this beauuutwiful pink dress dat made me feel soooo confident n prwetty in.
june 23rd: instructional support day for ma school, did schoolworks of m art stuff. talked to a classmate who im din think would talk 2 me >_< june 23rd m also went to supermarket n bought a bunnnch of pink stuff!! :D n yum yum yummy swiss roll mmm.
june 24th: m last day of doing instructionals!!! school o' out!!!
june 26th: wasnt feelin so good m went on walk )): saw pretty neighbourhood doe!!! ((:
june 29th: went to da mall allllll by meself n felt so pretty n so confident n so happy on my own. <3 m got compliment crazy by strangers but felt so in my own skin ^-^. m went on bus home 2!!!
july 2nd: m had yummy chicken nugget n a big mac for dinner whic is kindaaa rare so i was really happi :D m also fall alseepi on couch w my cat roscoe <3
july 8th: went to oceans grocery store! got lots o delicious snackies <3 like these fish chocolate wafer thingys mmm, basically a wafer in da shape of a fish w like aero ish chocolate inside, n it was only $1.5 ish!!
july 11th ?: talked to one friend briefly cos i had an all-nighter n they did too hehe
july 12th: completely glowed up, did leg workout, went for a morning walk, yoga, n then later in the day m took a lottta photos of m w my bear blacky :D lov him.
july 17th: went to east side marios w my sister n mom for my sisters grad!
july 19th: my online package came in!!! for all my pink stuff :O m got a pink themeed lanyard w a cute gold heart metal keychain thingy, a turtleneck white ruched hello kitty dress, press on nails, a white lace tank top, two new phone cases, some stuffs for my makeup, 2 makeup bags (one clear w gold zipper n the other pink!!!) a pink scrunchie n pink socks, necklaces n rings, and a pink cosmetic mirror to attach to my lanyard! i tink around dis time m' also met a new friend (Y) n he was really nice n comforting n he made me feel cared for! from july 19 ish to now, m had hungout w him a lil bit <3 but day later felt anxious on whether first new friend (Y) hated me T_T due to m social anxiety
july 22: went to chatime for some ywummy boba twee! m got my faveee drink. dis my go-to, is the matcha strawberry latte with grass jelly, 100% sugar, normal ice n a size regular <3 yum yum yum! wuv it. m also watched light year w ma one friend (Y) n he din mind dat i had blankie or dat i thought light year was originally lightning mcqueen hehe, he comfort me when i started crying cos stuff in the movie, n he headpat m' n we took da ''to infinity beyond'' tingy n do it now wheneve we say bye bye to each-other! <3
july 25th: went 2 grocery storeee for m smol snackrun for chippies n popcorn cos popcorn m' faveeee n saw my middle school teacher <_< ahhhhhh eek
july 27th: felt really unappreciated in my home ))): was a really sad day w anxiety.
july 29th: got shawarma take out n it was wooohh DELICIOUS!!! om nom nom! but very same night m felt very sad ))):
july 30th - 31st: felt really sad again ): so went to childhood playground 4 primary school n sat on benches n sang for a lil bit
from august 1st to august 8th? 'm had my moon n it was very stressful and anxiety inducing ):
august 5th: m went to hangout w my friend, went kinda weird becos one friend wasnt 'really' dere, but da other friend was so indulged in conversation w/ me and it made me feel so included and happy! we went to this pho place, chatime (i din get boba dis time doe), value village and this antique place w/ a bunch of cool stuffs. m got this pink y2k heart baby tee from the kid section and it felt amazing to buy it! i also felt like a barbie wearing my whole pink outfit n i got a bunch of compliments!
august 6th: had a super pretty outfit 4 the symnpthony thing i going to, m was wearing this really pretty white corset-y top, black slack/trousers (like aritiza agency pant), my nude heels, n a black blazer!!! m loved the symphony n got tons of nightlife skyscraper/building photos on the way home n was really happy n had lots of fun, and also had maccas! 'm had junior chicken ^_^
august 7th: went on a snack run w my sister n bought sum bananas
'm tink that this diary log is getting reallllyy long omg, but 'm gonna write my aug 10, 11, and 12th log! my summer has been.. w a lot of up and down tbh S: n quite lonely, but now dat im got new friends, m began to talk n open up to old friends again in hopes to try and conquer my ocd (cos it makes it extra difficult w friendships )): rocd wise) if u spent ur time rweading all of dis, thank u so muchh. <3 please hav good rest of ur day or night or aftanoon! :D
╭┈─────── urs truly, ࿐ ˊˎ-
╰┈➤ sweetheart xx
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