#i made the art and all those rooms have bright colors but her living room is grey and ugly

[louderfade]

if you decorated your apartment/house/homespace to be beige/grey/off-white/basically a noncolor i automatically do not trust you. why are you afraid of colors. why do you want to live in a realty photograph or a hampton inn. i asked my sister why people do this (she's my go-to for explanations of normies bc she would've been one except she does drugs and was raised by me so got early immunity from full frontal lobe shut down) and she said "people find it calming" like wow really how strange. expressing zero personality/taste calms them down? that shit makes me feel like there could be a threat lurking near. it puts me on edge. it sets off alarms in my instinct center. i feel like a dog who senses an approaching animal has rabies. warning: some shit is deeply wrong with this organism and they pose a threat to your well being. flee without engaging. my grandparents are 90 and conservative and even they had a house with colors and patterns and art they enjoyed. millennial apartments terrify me. our boomer parents were hit or miss with their ticky-tacky suburban houses. some of those houses had a soul but many didn't. "hanging stuff on the walls decreases the property value" and other such statements that prove you're already dead. millennials seem worse though bc they do it to rentals bc they LIKE it. maybe those old women haircuts all the girls had in hs in the 2000s (this is my fav gen z criticism of us millennials bc so fucking true in hs i was like wtf are these middle aged hairstyles how did this become cool everyone looks 35) are responsible for this particular variety of brain damage. from now on i believe in this link. 32 year olds live in light grey horror boxes bc sporting 40 year old hairstyles at age 16 makes you permanently boring and unable to display any taste or personality. these are people who get uncomfortable looking at art or when a friend cries. these are the people who say "i'm sorry for your loss" to a grieving person instead of "life is cruel af my brother no answers come still we must try to survive do you need a fierce hug at this moment or not also i brought you a xanax" like a real human being would. the craziest thing i ever saw my mom do was pay to paint our foyer "eggshell" when the damn walls were already white. this is actual mental illness. not me screaming in the road about how the modern world makes no sense and all the food is microplastic poison. not a single child on earth says their favorite color is light grey or dark white. your soul is sick if beige calms you down. i diagnose you with a severe deficiency of humanity. you need to be hospitalized and forced to discuss philosophy and engage with music until you remember what is valuable about consciousness, which is beautiful as well as cruel, both a gift and curse but it's worth it. i'd rather be awake and have to go to the hospital sometimes when it becomes too much and i end up sobbing drunk in the yard than lobotomized to the point of trading my precious time on earth for money i then spend on beige curtains and a sign that says "caution: caffeinating" to hang in the kitchen proving i am a corpse whose bland heart forgot to stop beating. i mean they shoot horses don't they.

#my sister bought a 3000 dollar grey couch bc some people have way too much money #but she also asked me to make art for her bathrooms and guest bedroom which is human behavior #i made the art and all those rooms have bright colors but her living room is grey and ugly #she's a strange case: half boring popular girl but half formed by my influence bc we're eight years apart and super close #music is the most important thing to her proving she is sane and she does psychedelic drugs to keep her mind healthy #girls without sisters have a harder time i firmly believe this. i would've liked having a brother i think #but sisters help you improve your self-awareness and develop your gender identity/personal way of being female #it's prolly the same with boys and brothers but men are a mystery somebody else can try to solve #personal #text #important facts #live laugh lobotomy

[moralesmilesanhour]

boxes

summary: miles encounters some old memories while cleaning his room. wc: 553 genre: gen, angst-ish a/n: this was partially inspired by/in conversation with that one comic where miles helps out a kid who's being bullied for his fashion (amongst other things), but also by the fact that miles has seemingly pushed aside pursuing art to focus on physics in the film. what other interests could he have possibly left behind?

August marked yet another summer vacation that passed like it had somewhere to be, which meant that Rio Morales made her son clean out his closet again to prepare for the upcoming semester. She made sure to emphasize that she really meant it this time, leaving Miles to begrudgingly peel himself off of the living room couch and get his friend Ganke on the phone to help out. 

It was now evening–around six o’clock–and the sun’s afternoon rays finally began to weaken into soft golden light, filtering through the blinds in strips across the two boys’ faces.

“I have literally never seen you wear these,” Ganke remarked as he held up a pair of beat-up converses. “You keepin’ ‘em?”

Miles made a face at the sneakers, with their unconfident, messy lines and muddy neon colors. He recalled being laughed off of the playground during recess for the ugly zebra pattern that he had spray-painted along the backs of them with stencils. His father clapped him on the back afterwards, praising how “creative” and “ahead of his time”  Miles was. It didn’t comfort him much, but he grinned and thanked his dad so that he’d drop it before dinnertime.

“Nah, we could throw those out. They’re too small for me to wear, anyway.”

“What about this? Cool patterns.” 

Ganke coughed as dust flew off of an old cropped bomber jacket. The oversized sleeves boasted an array of patches and buttons, which Miles recalled shoving into his pocket whenever he snuck over to Uncle Aaron’s. He took the jacket from the other boy and ran a hand over the square pieces of fabric attached haphazardly to the front. Rio had given him the scraps from her sewing kit to mess with back when she still had a bit of free time on her hands to mend clothing. 

The zig-zag stitches were far from clean, with each seam a slightly different distance apart from the next. Miles had only been worried about the colorful fabric staying on for long enough for him to wear it to school.

This soon became a non-issue, seeing as he only did so once. Miles swallowed, not wanting to recall all of the new words he had learned that day. 

He never did get good at sewing.

“Miles. You alright, man?”

The boy’s head snapped up.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. We can toss this one too.”

Ganke noticed Miles averting his eyes and raised an eyebrow.

“You sure you don’t wanna like, give it away or something?”

Miles turned to him and scoffed, “To who?”

 “I dunno,” His friend shrugged. ”I’ve seen people who dress like this that might want it.”

“And do the 'people you’ve seen' in question reside in this area code?”

“...No.”

“Thought so,” Miles said with a teasing grin. 

He gave the jacket one last look, and noticed the tag in the back. It was signed with a bright yellow highlighter in a ten-year-old’s handwriting, before he’d perfected his signature. Did that kid, who had been unworried about whether his sneakers were creased so long as they were colorful, deserve to have all of his hard work thrown away? Just like that?

“Y’know what? I’ll…keep it in a box, or something. With the shoes.”

“Alright, cool.”

And that Miles did, in the same box as his old suit.

#miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales fic #miles morales angst #miles morales x reader #moralesanhour #atsvplatonic #atsvgen

[ms-rampage]

If you want to make any suggestions yourself, go ahead!

Saints leader! Kenneth Smith (OC) x Y/n (F!reader)

Authors note: This is my first time writing an OC x Y/n fic. This was originally written for my OC Paige, but changed it. Also, I didn't proofread, did my best 😅😅😅

Requested by @bellathephoenix

Word count: lost track, probably 2k.

Warnings: Language. Smut. Mentions of drug use. Mentions of baby trapping. Degradation. Gothic stripper reader?. Saints Leader Kenneth is a lot more manipulative, possessive, and an overall asshole compared to any other version of him. COD Kenneth would hate him.

Ai "art" of Saints leader Kenneth

Being the leader of the 3rd Street Saints wasn't always easy, but it did have its pros. Being able to take over the city of Steelport since they weren't able to go back to Stillwater. Make themselves home here.

Kenneth Smith, the charming and charismatic leader, who was once a respected Canadian Army lieutenant, turned to the dark side and became a notorious gang leader who demanded respect. Making sure he was feared by many. He wanted to be seen as a king, but even a king needed his queen.

Him along with his two of his lieutenants. Pierce and Shaundi stand by his side as they plot to take over Steelport and eliminate all other rival gangs.

S.T.A.G included who's been arresting and killing anyone involved in any of the city gangs.

"Those assholes has been a thorn in our side for far too long," he growled. "But we'll deal with them soon enough."

Once they had their plan settled against S.T.A.G and all the other gangs, they headed to the penthouse for the party. Alcohol, drugs, and strippers waiting.

He stood up from his chair and they made their way towards the penthouse, followed closely by his lieutenants and an entourage of loyal Saints members.

They exit the elevator leading into the penthouse. The smell of alcohol, expensive cigars, and a variety of scents. Images and acts of debauchery.

Kenneth's eyes swept over the scene before him, taking in the sights and sounds of the decadent party. He smiled approvingly, pleased with how things were progressing.

Saint members having a great time at the party. Various members getting lap dances and participating in various acts that involve sex and drugs. He watched from a distance, enjoying the spectacle of his members letting loose and living it up. He allowed himself a moment of indulgence, sipping on a glass of expensive scotch and surveying the scene. "It's good to be king." he says to himself.

He stands at the top of the stairs, watching everyone. Scanning the room, his eyes landed on one stripper in particular. Long black hair, dark makeup, pale skin wearing black skimpy lace lingerie, very revealing. A gothic beauty.

His eyes locked onto the gothic beauty, a smirk playing at his lips. He made his way through the crowd, his presence commanding attention even when he didn't try to assert it. "Well, well."

She stood out from the other strippers. All the other girls wore bright colors and had some sort of cliché gimmick.

His voice lowered to a silky murmur as he approached her. "I think you're my favorite kind of woman."

She spins on the pole before realizing who had approached her. "Really? Is that so?." she asks, a smirk on her lips.

He smirked back, his eyes never leaving hers. "Absolutely. You're the perfect kind of woman to keep a man entertained."

She's much more attractive up close. "Oh, I can definitely entertain you in many different ways." she purrs, undoing her top, revealing X shaped pasties covering her nipples.

His eyes glittered with hunger and anticipation as he watched her remove her top. "I think you might be my favorite entertainer in this entire room," he murmured. "Come here, beautiful.". She gets off the small stage, now standing in front of him.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her body against his. His free hand traced delicate patterns on her exposed skin, his thumb teasingly brushing over one of her hardened nipples. "You're even better than I imagined."

"I bet you say that to all the girls." she teases him.

Kenneth chuckled softly, his lips brushing against her ear. "Only the ones who deserve it," he murmured. "And I think you're about to find out just how much I mean that."

She bites her lip and gently pushes him onto a recliner near where she was dancing. Now, giving him a lap dance.

His eyes grew darker as he watched her perform her sensual dance, his breath coming faster. His hands reached out to grab her hips, pulling her closer to him. "Fuck, you're something else."

"You can have any girl dance on you, and you chose the weird one." she murmurs into his ear as the music gets louder, and party gets rowdier.

He chuckle vibrated through her body as he held onto her hips, his arousal clear even through the fabric of his pants. His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "You're not weird, you're fucking perfect."

She notices and touches his erect member through his slacks. His eyes widened slightly at the surprise touch, but he didn't pull away. Instead, his grip on her hips tightened, pulling her closer. "So... impatient." he murmured. "I like that."

*a few days later*

"You won't regret it, sir." Her voice low and seductive.

His lips curled into a predatory grin, his hand tightening on Y/n's waist "I doubt that, my dear. I never regret my conquests."

She giggled, her head tilting slightly to the side. "Oh? Well then, let's go see what you've been missing out on." She took a step back, letting her body sway enticingly as she looked him up and down.

Kenneth's eyes followed her swaying body, a predatory glint in his eyes. He stepped closer to her, his hand running down her arm, before wrapping it around her waist once more. "Lead the way," he purred, his lips hovering close to her ear.

Y/n smirked and started walking towards a nearby alleyway, her hips swaying in a hypnotic rhythm. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, her eyes filled with mischief. "Don't worry, I won't bite... too hard."

Kenneth chuckled darkly, his hand tightening on her waist "I'm counting on that, Y/n." As they entered the alleyway, he pushed her against the wall, his lips descending upon hers in a bruising kiss.

She moaned into the kiss, her body melting against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as their tongues danced together. Her lips were warm and inviting, teasing him with a taste of what was to come.

Kenneth's hand slid up Y/n's back, tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss. He growled low in his throat, his other hand trailing down her side possessively.

Her breath hitched as she felt his hands on her, her body arching into his touch. She broke the kiss with a soft gasp, her forehead resting against his. "Take me home with you," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked down at her, his eyes glinting with an almost predatory gleam. "I thought you'd never ask," he replied smoothly, his hand slipping from her waist to the small of her back as he led her out of the alleyway.

She followed him out of the alleyway, her heart racing with anticipation. She couldn't believe she was actually going home with a client, let alone one as handsome, intriguing, and powerful as Kenneth.

He led her to his private, luxurious apartment on the other side of Steelport. Getting into his Bugatti and driving beyond the speed limit. When they get to his place, the lights dim and soft music playing in the background. He poured them both a glass of expensive wine before taking her by the hand and leading her towards his bedroom.

She followed him into the dimly lit bedroom, her eyes widening at the opulence of it all. She couldn't believe she was in this kind of luxury, let alone with a man like Kenneth.

He locked the door behind them and turned to face her, his eyes hungrily roaming over her body. He took another sip of his wine before setting it down on a nearby table. "Now, Y/n." he purred, taking a step closer to her.

Y/n watched him warily, her pulse racing. She knew what she was getting into and was more than willing to play along, but she wasn't about to make it easy for him.

"You know what I want, and I think you're going to enjoy it." He reached out and slowly ran his fingers down her bare arm, sending shivers up her spine. "Don't fight it, Y/n. This is your chance to live like royalty."

Y/n swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She met his gaze head-on, a mixture of fear and desire flashing in her eyes. "I'm not afraid of a little danger," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the music.

Kenneth smiled at her bravado, but there was an edge to his expression that made it clear he wasn't someone to be trifled with. "Good," he said simply, taking another step closer. "Because I'm going to enjoy breaking you in."

She braced herself for his advance, her body tense with anticipation. She was no stranger to danger or the darker side of life, but there was something about him that made her feel both terrified and electrified.

He pressed his body against hers, his lips inches from her ear as he whispered, "You're going to be mine, Y/n. And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

She shivered at his words, feeling the heat of his body against hers. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but the thrill of it was too much to resist. "I'm all yours," she breathed, her voice trembling slightly.

He took her words as a challenge, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "Good," he growled, pulling her closer and kissing her passionately. His hands roamed over her body, teasing and caressing as he pushed her boundaries further.

She melted into the kiss, losing herself in the heat of the moment. She gasped as his hands moved lower, his fingers teasing the sensitive flesh between her thighs. She wanted to resist, but the fire in her belly was too powerful to ignore.

Kenneth smirked, pleased with her response. "You like that, don't you?" he whispered, stroking her with just the right amount of pressure. "I can give you more...so much more."

Y/n moaned softly, her eyes fluttering closed. "Yes," she breathed, arching her back as he continued his ministrations. "Please...more."

He chuckled darkly, his fingers dipping inside her wetness. He teased her entrance before slowly pushing one finger inside, feeling her tightness around him. "You're so fucking tight," he groaned, beginning to thrust his finger in and out of her.

She gasped at the intrusion, both from the pleasure and the pain. She bit her lip, trying to keep from crying out as he took her. She wanted this man, but she knew there would be consequences for giving in to him completely.

Kenneth didn't care about the consequences. He was used to getting what he wanted, and now that he had Y/n within his grasp, nothing was going to stop him. His thumb brushed against her clit, driving her crazy with desire.

She cried out, her body shuddering with pleasure as she came undone around Kenneth's fingers. He was relentless, pushing her further and further into submission.

He smiled darkly as he felt her body shudder under his touch. He pulled his fingers out of her, watching the mix of pleasure and pain on her face. "You're fucking mine, Y/n." he growled, pushing his hard cock against her entrance.

With a cry, she felt her body being forced open by Kenneth's large, thick cock. It hurt, but the pleasure was too intense to resist. She bit her lip, trying to stay silent as he drove into her. He was claiming her, just as he warned he would.

He groaned as he felt her tightness squeeze around him. He began to thrust in and out, taking her with forceful strokes that left no doubt as to who was in control.

Y/n gasped with each thrust, her body bouncing against Kenneth's. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the intense sensations coursing through her. He was rough, demanding, but it was exhilarating in a way she'd never experienced before.

Kenneth took pleasure in the way Y/n reacted to his touch. He knew he had her right where he wanted her, and he wasn't about to let go anytime soon. His hips slapped against hers in a rhythm that was both violent and erotic.

Her body shook as his harsh movements drove her further into the depths of pleasure and pain. Her cries mingled with his grunts, creating a sensual symphony of lust and dominance.

He felt the walls of her pussy clenching around his cock, signaling her impending climax. He increased his pace, taking her harder and faster, determined to push her over the edge.

He took her violently, possessively, and aggressively.

Kenneth groaned, his fingers digging into Y/n's hips as he felt her walls pulsing around him. He continued to thrust in and out of her, claiming her body as his own.

Pinning her to the bed, fucking her stupid and submissive. "Such a good little whore." he growls.

He looked down at her, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're mine, sweetheart. Mine to fuck, mine to own." He continued to pound into her, his thrusts growing deeper and more forceful with each passing moment.

She whimpered as Kenneth's words sent shivers down her spine. She arched her back, surrendering to the intense sensations coursing through her body. Her nipples hardened under his rough hands, and she could feel herself getting wetter by the second.

He watched as Y/n's body responded to his touch, her breasts swelling under his palms. He moved one hand down to stroke her clit, rubbing it in a circular motion as he continued to thrust into her.

She cried out, her orgasm crashing down on her like a wave. Her body convulsed under Kenneth's, and she felt herself spasming around his cock.

He grinned as he felt her muscles tighten around him. "That's it, baby. Cum for daddy." he growled, pulling her closer to him as he continued his relentless assault on her body.

She screamed his name, lost in the vortex of pleasure and pain. She couldn't even process what was happening. All she knew was that she was his, and he was taking her in a way that left no doubts about their newfound connection.

He felt the walls of her pussy clenching around his cock as he finally reached his climax. He drove into her with one final, powerful thrust and let go, groaning loudly as he filled her up with his seed.

Y/n felt Kenneth's hot cum shooting into her womb, claiming her completely. She was his now, forever marked by this intense and primal experience.

He collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily. "You're mine now, Y/n. No one else's." He nuzzled his face into her neck, inhaling her scent. "And I'm never letting you go."

She lay beneath him, still trembling from the force of their encounter. She stared up at him, feeling her heart race at his words. This was something she had never expected or even wanted, but now that it was happening, she couldn't deny the pull she felt towards him.

Kenneth ran his hand down her body, tracing the lines of her hips and thighs. "You're my little whore." he repeated, this time with a sense of ownership that made her shiver.

Y/n couldn't find the words to respond. All she could do was lay there, feeling his touch and wondering what this new chapter in her life held for her.

Slowly, he lifted himself off of Y/n, still maintaining eye contact with her. His cock twitched, leaving a slick trail of pre-cum on her stomach. "You will learn to respect me, Y/n."

She nodded slowly. "Yes, sir." Her voice was little more than a whisper, but it carried with it an unmistakable note of submission.

Kenneth's lips curled into a smirk. "Good girl," he murmured before turning away from her and pulling on his pants.

She watched him dress, her heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation. She couldn't help but wonder what he had planned for her next.

Her spun around, his gaze sweeping over Paige once more. "You know what you have to do now," he growled out.

She swallowed hard, nodding slowly. "Yes, sir." She forced herself to stand up, her legs shaking slightly underneath her.

He stepped closer to her, his eyes boring into hers. "Don't forget who you belong to now," he warned before grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back forcefully.

Y/n let out a gasp as Kenneth's rough hand tangled in her hair. "I won't, sir." she whispered, her voice trembling with fear and uncertainty.

Kenneth released her hair, satisfied with her response. "Good girl," he repeated before turning and walking out of the room, leaving her alone and trembling on the bed.

She stayed where she was, trying to calm her racing heart as she listened to Kenneth's footsteps fade away. She couldn't help but feel a sense of dread about what was coming next.

He walked down the hall, his mind already turning to the next task at hand. The Saints were growing stronger by the day, and he would stop at nothing to ensure their dominance.

Owning 80% of the city of Steelport. His hourly income being $23,000+, from owning properties and investing. Kenneth Smith is a rich and powerful man who can and will do and have whatever he wants. The Saints will own and run the city. As time went on. He he fucks Y/n every night, vaginally, anally or orally, he'll fuck her.

Kenneth chuckled darkly as he thought about their growing empire. The Third Street Saints were unstoppable, and everyone knew it. He couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction when he thought about how easily he controlled Y/n.

He turned a stripper into his personal fucktoy.

Kenneth grinned wickedly, his eyes gleaming with the unyielding power he held over others. He knew that fear was the most effective tool for control, and she was already trembling at the thought of disobeying him.

She shivered as she heard his footsteps fade away, her mind racing with thoughts of what he might do to her next. She hated him, but she couldn't deny the thrill she got from his twisted games.

His mind drifted back to Y/n, his cock already starting to stir once more. He had big plans for her, plans that would not only satisfy his desires but also further cement her place in the Saints' organization.

She sighed, her body feeling heavy and used. She hated herself for being so weak around him, but she couldn't help it. He had a hold on her that was almost impossible to break free from.

His smirk grew wider as he thought about the power he wielded over Y/n. He enjoyed seeing her squirm under his control, knowing that she was nothing but a puppet he could manipulate at will. In addition to her nightly "duties,"

Her weakness was a source of power for Kenneth. He enjoyed watching her squirm under his control, knowing that she was nothing but a pawn in his game. It gave him a sense of dominance and satisfaction to see her submit so willingly to his every whim.

He knew what he was doing. He was gonna baby-trap Y/n. She needed him, and she knew it. He chuckled darkly as he thought about Y/n's predicament. She was his now, and he had no intention of letting her go. As they lay together in the afterglow of their passion, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction wash over him.

#oc: kenneth smith #saints row oc #sr3 oc #my oc #oc x y/n #saints row 3 oc #saints row the third #saints row the 3rd #saints row 4 #saints row iv #saints row 4 oc

[hargreevesd]

Broken Daffodils [1]

Summary: You are so art deco - Lana Del Rey

Chapter one

For some reason she did not have any motivation to draw that week. It was weird since she always had, even if it was 4 A.M. She tried many times to draw something, even a simple flower or a small house but she could not even draw a single line.

"Ah what is wrong with me!" she screamed and her maid came to her room scared.

"Oh I am so sorry for scarring you Betty, I am alright do not worry."

"It is okay miss, I am also here to inform you that your cousin has returned!"

"Really? Oh thank you so much Betty dear for telling me!" she immediately ran to the hall to find her cousin. The hall was painted by pastel colours, decorated with many different flowers, Y/N's and Dorothea's favorite ones. Next to the door was a huge gold mirror and exactly next to that were many shelves with books. Under the shelves was a comfortable chair that you could read and relax. Dorothea and her mother were sitting in the main sofa's at the center of the room to take a break after so many hours outside shopping and walking.

"Y/N! Look at my dress!" Dorothea rushes to her, suddenly she was alright again, not tired at all. She grabs her box to pull out the dress "Isn't it so pretty?"

"Indeed Little one! Lavender is definitely your color and truly matches you."

"We have one for you too!" Her aunt joined them, holding a box with a bright pink bow.

"What, why? Auntie I told you I do not need any dresses!"

"Well, I saw it and it reminded us of you, also you need a beautiful dress to attend tomorrow's ball!"

"So early? Agh I wish I had their energy and patience right now."

"You are not wrong, but it's been like that since forever dear! Also Dorothea I heard Daphne is making her debut this year too!

"Daphne? Daphne Bridgerton. Oh she is the ultimate diamond auntie!"

The Bridgerton's... Interesting she thought. She did not know any of the famous and noble families since she did not care to ask about them. She was about to leave and go to her room since her aunt and her cousin were talking but her aunt called her.

"Hey Y/N look at your dress, it's the right box!"

She did not want any dresses really but it was rude to not see her aunt's gift.

"Pink?" she sounded offended.

"I thought it was your favorite color!" her aunt answered with a look full in complaint.

It is.

"I mean I do not want to show up with such a dress I would-"

"You will look so pretty dear stop thinking otherwise." She did not even finished her sentence, her aunt already knew what she was going to say.

Maybe her aunt was right, but all she wanted was to blend in, hide in the shadows not be the center of attention, because with a dress like that, she definitely would be.

"My dear Y/N!" Her uncle just stepped in, he sounded like he was running miles to get there. He was holding an envelope. A big one to be exact. "Guess what. Your Lost at Sea painting made all of those"

She lost a heartbeat for a second and immediately let go of the dress and grabbed the envelope with the money and opened it. "A single painting made all of those? This is enough to live for a year!" she could not believe her eyes.

"I know dear I know. When I went to receive the money I was shocked and I rushed back home to tell you! I knew it would make you happy!"

"Happy? I am speechless. I can not even breathe." she fell into her uncle's arms to find her comfort and feel alive again after the shock of her great success. Even though her motivation was at the absolute zero this week, this made her feel complete.

"Y/N the world must obey to your talent!" Dorothea was on the sofa and gave her a "medal" for her success, a flower from the vase next to the book shelves.

"Oh come on Little one, you are flattering me!"

"No, no, no, you deserve much more. Everyone in the town must be talking about your painting now!

"Mama!" "MAMA!" a deep male voice echoed on the walls of a big and lovely house.

"Benedict dear, please do not scream I can still hear" a woman responded with the same tone.

"Who is this?" Benedict asked as he entered the room.

"Who is what?" his Mama asked confused about her son who was now doing circles around the table. "You seem nervous."

"This painter's name!"

"How should I know my boy, ask your brother he may know!"

"Agh, he signs with a fake name this is so unfair."

"Why all of the sudden you want to learn about a secret painter who hides his identity?"

"You truly need to see at his artworks to understand. They are brilliant, fascinating, breathtaking. His talent is extraordinary. I am not jealous, I am amazed. I want to meet him, to tell me his secrets, his inspirations, it is truly making me nervous."

"Before you ask me too brother I have no idea about your painter" his brother also entered the room with a big bunch of papers to sign.

"Brother I did not expect anything else from you"

"Oh you are lying, you definitely thought I would know." Anthony said with a smirk.

"Whatever. One day I will find him I assure you. Both of you!"

her perspective:

"Y/N!"

"Yes?"

"Come on darling we will be late!"

oh. OH. How did I even forgot this. This is Dorotheas day and I will ruin it. I have to make haste. Um what to wear, I do not know. Maybe this? No too white, oh that one! "BETTY!"

She opened the door "Yes ma'am?"

"Can you help me with this foolish dress?"

"Of course, turn around!"

What even is this presentation all about. Just for the Queen to pick a diamond for this season. All girls are diamonds and this is unfair. But who am I to disagree to the British rules.

Dorothea was gorgeous. Her aura could tell it too. She was so pretty with a bright smile and full of elegance. She is like my little sister and I want her to keep that pretty smile forever in her face. The Queen had a face that I could not understand until now. She stands up and reaches Dorothea and smiles at her. Ah my Little one did so well! I wish I could run and hug her now but that was inappropriate so I had to wait.

To admit it, it was boring. Honestly if it was not for my cousin I would never do that. Watching all these girls do the same thing in repeat... No that was definitely not fun. Until a caught a man looking directly at me. The first thing I noticed was his eyes. A very light green. He was so-

boom

A girl just fell on the floor. Okay that was interesting indeed. Social events are not that bad after all, maybe I am just not used to it. But even with this accident the man still looks at me. Why. Have I done something, do I have something in my face? I do not understand what is wrong.

"Daphne Bridgerton" the guard said.

And now he turned along with all the people near him to look at the girl.

The Bridgertons.

"Dorothea, I hate you. Why did I give that promise in the first place."

"Oh do not be so miserable Y/N, it is just a ball everything will be alright."

"Oh yes I am so sure about that!"

"Look at her she is shining!" she showed me Daphne Bridgerton who was talking with her mother.

"Indeed! But so do you! So let me be and go dance Little one!"

"Okay fine, I just want you to have fun!"

"I am having fun as long as you are. Now go"

She was an angel straight from heaven. Her dirty blonde hair with her dark eyes and her olive skin. I only know her two months now and she became my sister since day one.

What should I do to entertain myself instead of staring. Lemonade! Always fresh, always there for you. I turned to go to the table but a lady took my hand and pushed me behind.

"Pretend to be my friend for a bit!" she said with a shaky voice and then I turned to see her.

Daphne Bridgerton?

"Is there something wrong?"

"No. I mean yes. This annoying man keeps following me and speaking to me and I am tired so this is the only way for a bit. Oh I am so sorry I did not introduce myself. Daphne Bridgerton!"

"It is a pleasure to meet you Daphne. I am Y/N Theo!"

"Theo? Do you happen to be a sister of Dorothea Theo?"

"She is my cousin! I just moved here to be honest so I do not really know any families or-" I could not finish she seemed so happy and desperately wanted to speak.

"Ahh I did not know Dorothea had a cousin! I am so happy to hear you are a Theo! Your aunt is a lovely woman! So you are new here? If you want to one day come by and I can show you around and tell you things you must know about people here! You are my guest!"

"Daphne it is not necessary, I am alright do not worry!"

"Oh no, you are my friend now! I am sure you and I will have a great time together Y/N!"

"Daphne you should not leave your suitors like that!" A man spoke that was behind us, I assume her father or her brother.

"Anthony let me be please. I was talking to my friend and you are interrupting a girls talk!"

Oh, so her brother.

"Your friend? I am pretty sure it is my first time seeing her."

"We just met my Lord, do not worry!"

"And your name is?"

"Y/N. Y/N Theo."

"You do not look like you are from here really..." He was looking at me with a weird look, a judgy look full of doubts if he was kind or extremely rude.

"Because she is not Anthony, leave us now I was in the middle of something!" Daphne answered for me. Thank God she was a fast thinker and knew what she had to say.

"No young Lady, you are coming with me. As for you Miss Y/N have a great night, you will continue your chat with my sister another time!"

And I was left alone once again. To be honest I liked Daphne's company. She just wanted a friend to talk to. Just like me. And truly I forgot why I started walking too. Oh lemonade! Right. But I guess the universe did not want me to get that glass of lemonade today, because as soon as I reached the table someone fell on me.

"I am so sorry Miss, I was searching for-"

He raised his head to look if I was alright and he stopped talking.

"You."

"For me?" I asked. That was the man that could not keep his eyes off me last time. Why he was searching for me he does not even know my name.

"Oh yes! I noticed you my dearest Lady, on the presentation and I had a feeling that you would be here tonight."

"An excellent feeling you have Mister Bridgerton!" Another Bridgerton, another brother of Daphne's. Three out of three today.

"Oh, so you do know me! But I do not know your name, it is not fair."

"It is alright, I guess you will live without my name."

"I am not sure about that to be honest. But of course if you do not tell me I am pretty sure I will end up learning anyway." He smirked at me and leaned to the wall next to him.

"Are you planning on becoming a detective?" Of course he was not. He was looking for something more artistic more-

"Oh of course not I do not think I have a talent on that. I have talent on other things"

Let me guess, flirting?

"Okay Mister Bridgerton since you are not planning to leave if I do not say my name... Y/N Theo, pleasure to meet you."

"And you are from Italy? Or France?"

Is this man serious?

"Greece."

"Are all the women in Greece like you?"

"Excuse me? Why is that?"

"If yes, I must visit this country as soon as possible."

"That is how you start a conversation with a lady?"

"Aristotle, Plato or Socrates?"

"What?" I said that out loud accidentally but it is my honest reaction to this question.

"Aristotle, Plato or Socrates?" he repeated

"Aristotle."

"Iliad or Odyssey?"

"Iliad."

"Favorite line from the Iliad?"

"Μῆνιν ἄειδε, θεά, Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος"

"You speak ancient greek?"

"What is the point of your questions? And yes I do speak ancient Greek."

"No point I just wanted a proper conversation with you and I was sure you would know about your country's history."

Oh.

"Well thank you for wanting to have a proper conversation with me but I am busy!"

"Really? With what may I ask?"

"With... With um." I looked around to find a reason "Lemonade!"

"I can get you some if you want!"

"No I can get one myself!"

"I do not doubt it, Miss Theo. Now tell me, do you happen to know anything about art because-"

"Benedict! Go dance with your sister." a voice behind us interrupted.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

Okay thank you Lord Bridgerton.

"Are you meeting my whole family?"

"To inform you, my Lord, they talk to me first. Just like you now." He gave me a strange look and left. The eldest Bridgerton was honestly such a confusing person.

Benedict. That was his name. From Anthony's appearance and speech he must be the first son and Benedict the second? Unless I am missing someone.

"Did you see the girl mister Bridgerton was talking to?" "Ah yes she was pretty and she had a really nice dress too." "I do not care if she was pretty, she is not even from here and she has already pull the hardests ones. Even the first son!" "She seemed rude, she should be proud that lovely Benedict even spoke to her." "Maybe this artist is looking for his muse this year ladies, it is our chance!"

Artist? Muse? So I guess Mister Bridgerton is famous among the ladies. Such a pleasure. Ugh this man just flirt with any female he sees? He indeed had something artistic on him. Once I look at him again, dancing while he moves effortlessly and his hair fall into his face and cover his eyes, he seems different than before. He speaks art. He is shinning. He even ignores all the other ladies in the ball room and only speaks to me.

"Missed me, Miss Theo?"

"Not at all Mister Bridgerton!"

"How is that? I caught you starring a while ago!"

"This is a rude observation for a lady Mister Bridgerton!"

"Call me Benedict, Y/N."

"Is there is reason behind that?"

"Not at all. There must not be a reason behind everything. Life is a weird thing and you can not explain every move of yours"

"You are right but I am keeping my senses together and I found it necessary to ask."

"Well Miss Y/N, you are free to ask whatever you want. Either way we are born to be free."

"You may be, but I do not think this includes me Benedict. Now if you excuse me, I will go and check my cousin"

I did left him at the ball hall but he did not left my mind that night. His eyes, his hands, his voice, everything remained pure into my head. A little party never hurt no one, but after that ball he is the only thing I have on my mind. And this was annoying. Annoying to think of his stunning face all the time. I did not want a man on my head. Especially him and his annoying smile.

A/N: so here is chapter one! Interesting how art deco vibes they both have? And how they both realized it? Also the iliad quote is the first line of iliad <3 thank you for reading!

@ayoitsmickey @preciousbabypeter

#benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #regency fic #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #Spotify

[ayoitsjupiter]

Cglre One Shot

Markers, colored pencils, and papers are scattered across the pastel themed room. Many stuffies can be seen resting on the soft bed with one in particular sitting on the floor next to the little one. As I bring them some dinosaur shaped sandwiches and some small candies to snack on, they peer up to me with bright lively eyes. "Thankies mommy!!" they say energetically. I smile down at them sprawled on the floor just drawing away to their heart's content. "Anything for my baby! Let me see your drawing little one?" They hand me the paper filled with messy scribbles and sketches of various cartoon characters. "This is so amazing honey!" I praised. The little one looks up with a toothy grin, "I wuv-"

*BUZZZZ BUZZZZ BUZZZZ*

I groan as I roll over towards my nuisance of a phone, reminded once again that I am still a lonely caregiver. After being in the cglre community as a caregiver for so long, I have grown to want a partner who is a little. A little's love is unlike any other love I have ever experienced. But reality calls and I am still just a student trying to make their way through college. I shuffle out of bed and over to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. As I tame my curly dark hair, I peer up to my mirror that mimics my short stature. An insecurity slips through my mind, 'Who would even want a caregiver that's shorter than them.' I shake that thought out of my head as I pick an outfit for the day.

"Yo dude! Do you wanna come hang with some friends of mine?" My roommate calls out. I had always felt like I didn't belong with her group of friends seeing as I am just a quiet nerdy girl and they were a rebellious group of skaters who enjoyed college nightlife a little *too* much. But nevertheless, I came along.

I followed her outside to a car with a slick white exterior and a black racing stripe. As much as I protested, she made me take the front seat which made me extremely anxious due to the sickeningly attractive guy in the driver's seat. He was a stoner, skater, car guy with a stern look etched onto his face and crystal blue eyes that complimented his blonde curls. 'Stop pretending like you have a chance. Besides, its not like he would be open to the cglre community let alone age regress.' I sighed and rested my head onto the car door. The bass boosted rap music blasting throughout the car sent ripples throughout my body as I drift off into a daydream. 'What if the rebellious bad boy was a little? No...that's impossible.'

-time skip 3 hours-

My mind eased as we approached the familiar campus. Hanging out with the rowdy group was fun, but my social battery had ran out. I was ready to get back to my fluffy bed and sleep. "My room?" The attractive blonde called out. All the sudden, any desire to sleep had left my body. I curiously trailed behind the quick paced group. Once we all piled into the small dorm room, I took a second to notice my surroundings. The style was minimalist yet neat. Art work hung along the walls, designer shoes were stacked on display, Hotwheels lined the shelves, stuffies were piled onto the bed- I quickly snap my head back to the large pile of stuffed animals in disbelief. 'Are those...?' My caregiver headspace was starting to creep through my timid act, but no one noticed. I watch as the blonde reached for a large dinosaur plushie. My eyes follow him as he plops onto the floor, giant dinosaur wrapped around his arms.

Chatter fills the room as I watch from a distant chair. Their conversations involved cars, some first person shooter video game, and funny TikToks they found. After an hour, a majority of the group retracted to the comfort of their phones. I glance over to the intimidating boy, expecting to see him on his phone like everyone else, but instead he is sprawled onto the floor with his dinosaur stuffie squeezed into his chest. I stare at his cuddled form in shock. This is the same guy who could beat up anyone who looks at him wrong. His tough guy act seems like a cover for his true self. I recall the dream I had about the little sprawled onto the ground coloring. A smirk begins to form on my face as I connect the dots. 'Aww, so he does have a soft spot~'

Before I can collect my thoughts, everyone starts getting up to leave. I need to know more about this mystery that blondie's hiding. Maybe I could finally get to be with a little and spoil them rotten. Maybe this was my chance. Instead of leaving with the others, I decided to stay behind to talk to him. He gives me a slightly confused look as I stay glued to his desk chair. As the door closes he smiles at me and says, "I don't think we've properly met yet." He holds out his surprisingly soft hand for me to shake. As my hand meets his, my heart skips a beat.

We talk for a while about various things, but one question still remained in my head. 'Could he actually be a little?' His deep tone was cut off by a yawn. A small squeak followed as well as a little nose scrunch which I found adorable. Hearing this made me go deeper into caregiver headspace. This boy was the epitome of cuteness. A red hue rises to his cheeks as I let out a laugh. He starts to apologize profusely, which was completely out of character for him, and was his voice... higher pitched? I reach my hand to cup his face to reassure him. "Hey, don't apologize hun!" My warm smile made him relax and regress even further into littlespace. 'So I was right! He is a little!'

He quickly rushes into a tight hug, seemingly thankful for the caring interaction. "Do you know...?" He looked down towards my small self. I nodded kindly and told him that I was a caregiver. His eyes lit up as he bounced back into my arms. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for someone like you!" I started to blush and started to question if this was a dream too.

I hopped up onto the bed and offered the sleepy little a spot next to me. "We can lay down if you want to little one!" I exclaimed. He cuddles into my side before I get the chance to lay down. "Hey now, you're so eager" I laughed as he let a frustrated puff out of his nose. That mischievous glint in his eyes told me he was just trying to play around. I wrap my arms around him as he lays down onto my chest. I start to hear little coos similar to a baby's as he drifts off to sleep. I smile to myself before closing my eyes as well. 'I finally have a little one to love!'

-This is the story about how my little and I met! He is the best part of my life! I love him so much! ❤️❤️❤️ @little-bunny123 -

#oneshot #sfw cglre #agere community #cglre caregiver #cglre little #cglre #sfw caregiver #agere #sfw agere #age regression

[lonelypond]

Perilous Pink

NicoMaki, Love Live, 1.4K, 1/1

Nishikino Maki learned new things about being in love with Yazawa Nico every day. Even after three years of dating and nearly one year of marriage, Maki could still be surprised.

The sprawling concrete and glass modern house she’d bought Nico as a birthday present never really felt empty. Nico had managed to fill most of the rooms with colorful art pillows and even a few quirky pieces more suited to Maki’s taste. Right now the main room and kitchen was hung around with Christmas lights, all the windows bright with blinking colors, wreaths on every interior door, a Christmas tree that filled the atrium standing two stories tall. Maki should have felt jolly. Yes, COVID-19 was raging, the third wave surging, Tokyo residents masking and social distancing. Masking wasn’t a new habit, nor was concern for the community. But they’d been forced to cancel their upcoming concert series, although both had agreed with the decision of their safety team. And today Maki was learning that a house empty because Nico was on the road felt completely different than a house where Nico was home and gloomy.

She was wearing nothing but pink. Every day. Pastel pink. Layers and layers wrapped around, like cotton candy. Not such a surprise for Nico. but right now, today, or any December day, she should be dancing through the house in an oversized Santa and snowflake sweater, elf hat at a jaunty angle, pulling Maki in to waltz and sing a duet version of “Snow Halation.” Instead, she was in the studio in the basement, pink blanket pulled around her, the weighted air of someone buried in difficulties as she stared blankly at her monitor’s screen saver. Nico smiled when Maki brought her tea or coffee or a doughnut but it was a fond half smile, too familiar, not a glad smile, Nico’s bright eyes sizzling with plans and pranks. Nico’s eyes were dull.

Maki had made Christmas cookies, sloppily but, she thought, endearingly decorated. Maybe they could coax a reaction out of Nico.

The studio door was half open. Maki knocked on the doorframe.

“I made cookies.”

Nico grunted. At least there was digital sheet music on the monitor.

“Nico-chan?”

Nico half turned.

“Are you mad at Santa-san? Or …” Maki’s voice broke a little, “me?”

Nico waved an impatient hand. “No, Maki-chan. Nico and Santa-san are fine. Nico and Maki are fine.”

“Why aren’t you wearing any of your Christmas sweaters? And we haven’t hung any mistletoe.” Maki looked around the room, pink blanket, pink pillows, pink plushies.

“Nico’s fine.” Nico snapped. “Nico’s busy.” And Nico shoved the mouse to the right, beginning a frantic series of clicks.

### Maki retreated upstairs, to the couch, overhead lights off, Christmas lights blinking out what she hoped was a distress signal Santa could solve. Emergency bff text session with Hoshizora Rin.

M: Nico’s overdosing on pink.

R: Nico is PINK

M: o_0 But it’s Christmas

R: So you’re sulking T口T

M: NO RIN I’M WORRIED

R: Is Nico not being kissy kissy enough ♡(ŐωŐ人)

M: (ﾉ｀□´)ﾉ⌒┻━┻

Hanayo: Nico was looking forward to those concerts.

M: I know

M: I can’t replace 100000 screaming fans

R: ヽ(＾Д＾)ﾉ ＼(★^∀^★)／ヽ(⌐■_■)ノ♪♬(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧(◕‿◕)♡

M: ┻━┻ ︵ヽ(`Д´)ﾉ︵ ┻━┻

H: Just be you

R: Yeah Maki-chan you got this Nico needs her Maki

M: What am I supposed to do?

R: Maki things ᕙ(⇀‸↼‵‵)ᕗ

Maki things? But Nico didn’t seem interested in any kind of … Maki wasn’t going to dye anything pink or wrap herself in a pink robe or order only pink food. It was Santa season. It had its own color code.

Pink … pastels … were a spring thing … Hope and soft and flowers …

Maki froze, remembering something. A very old, very pink memory. Something she’d never told Nico. Something only she could have done.

###

Winter. Cloudy. Every day was cloudy. Nico woke up with a groan, stretching. Even the vivid red of Maki’s hair seemed dull, washed out against the gloomy winter sky. Maki was so vivid, breathtaking, that Nico knew something was wrong to see her extraordinary wife and lover against the backdrop of an ordinary winter sky and feel sad that winter had drained the spark, the fire out of the universe. Maki’s eyes were a fading lilac, Nico could see her own sadness reflected in them, leaking in.

Quick facial care, dry brush, coffee, Christmas cookies with very triangular trees. Nico smiled at that, slightly, as deft as Maki was with her fingers on the piano, art often frustrated her. But there was a cuteness and a simplicity that made Nico’s mood less gray. Taking a mug of coffee, no sweetener, Nico wanted to be more awake, less fuzzy and the cookies were more than sweet. Maki must not have leveled off the sugar before mixing it in. Today, maybe today, Nico could make progress on the song. She had the rhythm in her head. If she could cut a single by Christmas for the fans, she’d feel less useless. And asking Maki to help seemed like cheating. Nico imagined Maki’s daily life was a bustle of present buying, carols on the piano and photo safaris of Christmas lights and decorations. Nico did not want to burst that peppermint striped bubble.

Straight to the monitor, turn on all the blinking lights, listen to the whir of fans starting up, put down the tray with coffee mug and cookies, sit, slide into the comfy gamer chair, hands linked behind head, push back and look up. Nico froze. Something new. There on the wall, nearly as tall as Nico, was the brightest pink she’d seen indoors. Cherry trees. Full bloom, pastel pink burst up into vivid, spring life. Framed so you could imagine the blooms continuing off the canvas filling the room, a light floral promise filling the air with the hope of Spring. Was that Otonokizaka? Was that someone in an Otonokizaka uniform? Nico was on her feet, pushing up looking closely, at her own profile, eyes closed, delicate eyelashes dark enough to be seen on the porcelain clarity of her skin, lips pursed to kiss a cherry blossom nuzzling for an embrace. How? Where?

“It was before I knew who you were.” Maki said in her gravelly, half yawn, sleepy voice. “I forgot I took it. It was a grumpy day for me. I didn’t particularly want to go to Otonokizaka but Papa insisted because it was such an elite school so close to the hospital.”

A pause. Nico spun her chair. Maki leaned in the doorway, hair completely in disarray, a sweet smile as she stared at the scene.

“I was wandering taking blossom pics and there you were, perfectly sharp, perfectly poised against all the soft pink embracing you, the soft blue sky, the sharp blue blazer, your cardigan, how lost you seemed in the moment, your eyes closed, your lips … I knew there would never be such a perfect spring moment. So I snapped maybe 50 different shots and there was this.”

“And then you forget Nico?” Nico could feel her throat tightening and tears starting. “How could you forget Nico?” There were going to be tears. Lots of tears.

“I didn’t. But that moment,” Maki came into the room, pointing to the Nico in the picture, “you were a dryad, a sprite, the perfect sakura spring fantasy, not Yazawa Nico, aspiring idol and aggravating third year. So pushy.” Maki winked.

“You’re so gay.” Nico sniffled, “Weird gay. But so gay.”

Maki laughed. “And then I met you, you were like no one ever, and I had to marry you.”

“You got to marry Nico.”

Maki’s eyes were so serious as she looked directly at Nico, no embarrassment, just raw, caring honesty that so few got to see.

“I did. I love you, Nico-chan. Spring will come again.” In that breathy gorgeous voice that Nico had fallen in love with at the first word of “Start Dash,” when Nico had hacked in to listen to the upstart Idol group Honoka had started. Nico could feel the tears surge, shuddering as she threw herself into Maki’s arms, holding her lover so close, letting the brightness burn away winter’s gloomy gray, Maki as solid and vivid as Nico’s best memories.

Rare for December, Maki found herself eager for spring, and the pastel perfection of Nico’s sakura smile.

A/N:

Doing some different things this August, but if there's an AU of mine or a continuing fic you want me to bump up my to do list, drop a comment, please and thank you. Idol Fanfic Heaven is having an early August event, one of the challenges is write something in a real location. This house does actually exist in Tokyo. The pastel prompt (thank you!) is from the Femslash Friday Prompts Tumblr (link in comment.) Take care!

#NicoMaki #Femslash Friday #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #Santa season #Sakura #pink #Femslash Friday prompts #wlw fic

[nocturneblight]

“Kickstarting the night”

NOTE: I cannot show the art to this part because it’s way too spicy for tumblr I’m afraid, It’ll be posted on the other sites I’m on though, like Newgrounds, DA, FA, bluesky and twitter probably, that’s all.

Jenecis rubbed her chin, her eyes looked upwards to the ceiling as she contemplated on his query.

“Ya know, now that you say it, I haven’t had anyone hang out with me in my house for years…” she responded, a bit shocked by her own reply.

Edward’s eyes grew, “Years? But she’s the town guard, Does no one even to think check up on her?” He thought to himself, swiftly replying.

“Well better late than never, right?”

Jenecis smirked, “Heh, yeah.”

They blankly stared at each other once more, the awkward tension growing.

Edward quickly repeated, “So… what do you normally do when you get home from work?”

Jenecis splayed her arms out, in a shrugging manner, “mostly just working out, It’s always been a therapeutic thing for me, turn something on to get enthusiastic and all”

Edward cocked his brow “Turn something on? While working out? What do you mean?”

Jenecis issued for him to follow her with a motion of her finger, they then both made their way to the basement, Edward followed behind her, hardly being able to see over her broad shoulders that were still adorned by her large frame of armor.

As they walked down the stairs, the basement seemed to have lit up on its own, Glass-like shapes like those that were used to contain the meats from before were scattered along the rooms walls, they hanged from the ceiling, were placed on the table, the floor, almost everywhere, in a neat fashion of course, somewhat like lanterns to light the before shadowed room.

The transparent bright lights were a strong blue, gentle enough to be relaxing but also powerfully bright to illuminate the floor, walls, and ceiling.

Soon they reached the floor, the gentle carpeting was spread across the stone floor, it’s deep green color was easy on the eyes, even the walls were decent to look at, this wasn’t an ordinary basement, it looked like a living space! The only thing it was missing was a bed.

The weighted equipment was ordered in a line, A deep black colored sack hung from the ceiling, it was heavy enough to spin and twist on its own due to gravity, it looked somewhat lumpy and rough to the touch, like it had endured enough beatings already, whatever was in there was probably a mush by now. Right besides that piece of equipment was a slab of smooth stone that extended out vertically, above it was a metal pole that was accompanied by two heavy sets of metal on each end, it looked HEAVY. Each metal bit looked exactly like the shoulders of the armor that was on jenecis.

Right beside that equipment piece was an even more questionable device. Two rings that dangled from the ceiling by chains, They looked as if you could fit your wrist through them, like a prisoners punishment. The shelves in the room even had smaller weighted metals on them, like rocks that could be picked up in each hand.

Jenecis spun around after reaching the center of the room, spreading her arms out once more, in a gloating motion.

“Well, Terrified or enamored yet?”

Edward took in the sight around him, unfamiliar with the scene but also interested in what this place exactly was.

“Well, a little bit of both, This is the grandest basement I’ve ever seen but like, what’s with the equipment on the floor?” He asked, unsure of what all this was for.

Jenecis pointed at the multiple bits of metal and stone that was in the room, “Your telling me you’ve never seen this stuff before?”

Edward shook his head, “Not at all, What are they for?”

Jenecis went over towards the two sets of metals on the shelf, grabbing them and holding each of them in her hands.

“Well… each piece is a bit different, But they all serve mostly the similar purpose, I use each of these to essentially keep my body in good condition, like so.” She said, using both of her hands to lift the weights before Edward.

Edward watched as she easily lifted the two metals in rhythm, not straining herself on the hard objects at all.

“You do that for the whole night?” Asked Edward.

Jenecis smirked, still holding the two and motioning them. “Well, maybe not ALL night… but for a couple hours is my usual”

Edward’s eyes kept in motion with each of her hands as they lifted the objects.

“Wanna try?” Asked jenecis, holding one out to him.

“So I just use both arms? Or…”

He reached to grab the weighted metal, as he gripped it with both arms, jenecis gently let it out of her hand with caution.

As the weight shifted into his two hands, he immediately bent forward, the weight pulled nearly the rest of him with it as he attempted to hold it up.

“D-d-darn-“ he gasped, stammering to keep himself up.

Jenecis quickly nabbed the weight from his hands, “Oops!” She exclaimed, realizing it was too much for him.

Edward stood back up after his attempt, as he bent himself back upward in a good posture, he questioned.

“How in the world do you carry that? Let alone in two hands?”

Jenecis placed both weights down on the floor, out of each of their paths, “Well I’ve been going at this ever since I was a teen pretty much, it’s a simple hobby, ya know?”

Edward clutched his wrist, still feeling a tad strained from just a couple seconds of holding the heft of the objects.

“I can assume the other equipment does the same, correct?” He asked, pointing at the different forms of weights.

Jenecis nodded, “Oh yeah, each of those buffer different parts of my body, Wanna see them in action?”

Edward’s eyes grew again “after seeing you lift those two boulders with ease as opposed to them nearly killing me, I am quite curios to see you try the other sets you have”

Jenecis did a slight arm pump gesture, with toothy grin.

“Alright! Check this out!” She said excitedly as she got into position with the vertical slab of stone.

As she went to lay her back onto the slab,

*CLACK*

“Unngh!”

Edward quickly shifted over to her as she got up, she ran her hands along the armor on her back.

“I forgot to take the armor off! Buh!” She complained, her back a bit sore from landing the armor against the stone with sudden force.

Edward stood in shock “Are you okay?”

Jenecis straightened her posture up as she felt along her back, “Ugh yeah, just feel like I purposely tried to cripple myself for life.”

She then shifted her focus off her self and onto Edward, who still looked at her. “Oh and Thank you for asking, I appreciate it, sometimes this armor just feels like a second skin to me, getting used to wearing it makes me forget I have it on half the time, Hehe…”

Edward spoke again, “Your something else jenecis, No, Your insane… in a good way of course!”, Pointing at her armor he continued,

“Here you are still wearing that even after work while trying to lift heavy stuff, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone with such an aptitude for punishment.”

Jenecis chortled, “trust me, I don’t usually end up wearing it this long after work, haha, I’ve just been distracted trying to show off, hehe.”

Edward smirked, “it’s working on me for sure, Just don’t overdue yourself, I don’t want you getting hurt”

Jenecis smiled back at him, “thanks Edward, You don’t realize how much your words mean to me”

Edward kept his enthusiasm high “I’m glad to see your happy in my company”

“I’m still gonna show you what I can do though, Just maybe not with this thick block of what’s called armor on” she said, still smiling.

“Speaking of which, I can always turn around-“

Jenecis grabbed the straps on her gloves, unloosing them and allowing them to tumble off onto the soft carpet, without hesitation she then uncapped her upper half of armor, slipping out of it with relative ease.

As her armor was taken off, her form underneath revealed itself, a black gambeson held onto her frame, her muscular body was defined by the gambeson, her steel grey hand poked out from the cuffs of the coat, her long white finger nails were quite sharp.

Edward breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh thank goodness, I forgot guards had something underneath they’re normal armor-“

*FWIP*

Jenecis pulled the coat up and over her head, taking off the last restraining piece of equipment on her upper body.

Her strong form was made clear to Edward’s eyes, The grooves of her muscles were deep, Her steely biceps were more massive than he could have imagined, she was a total unit of a guard for sure, if anything, the armor was less intimidating than seeing her actual physical status, he understood how she lifted those weights now, in fact, with her color palette and stature, she sort of looked like armor! she. Was. a. BEAST.

Edward would have turned his head away out of politeness but was far too shocked by her ridiculously shredded form, the strengthened forearms, the texture abdomen, just the over all entire form that jenecis had was insane to him.

His eyes looked up and down, his mouth slightly agape, “Jenecis. You’re a living armor set!” He exclaimed.

Jenecis smiled, “and here I was thinking you’d be scared of my body, And yet… your staring at me like how I was looking at the food you cooked me early.” She said, smugly.

Edward caught himself on her words, Quickly spinning around and covering his eyes with his palms, “Ah I’m sorry! I dont do this sort of thing often! It’s just, Your so-“

Jenecis interrupted “Sexy?”

Edward nearly choked up, exclaiming “Jenecis!”

She chuckled “Edward!”

He quickly responded, “What I was GOING TO say,” he sassily remarked, now clearing his throat and turning around to face her again.

“Your Absurdly defined, like my goodness, I genuinely think you could palm someones face inward with those arms”

Jenecis flexed her upper half off, her arms pulsing intensely.

“Haha, yup, That’s what years of effort do to ya, it’s an unbeatable combination that drives me harder in all my task” she said, confident in her words.

“Phew, Glad Im on your side” said Edward, still somewhat taken back by the reveal.

Jenecis grabbed the buckle around her waist, peeling off her waist armor, “You think that’s insane? Wait till you see my calf’s”

Edward quickly flipped around again, and covering his face, “Bluh! not again”

“Some people really have no humility, huh?” Edward thought, recalling how many others, himself included, needed privacy to swap clothes.

“We’re both adults Edward, look at me” she said.

Edward kept looking away, “No it’s weird! That type of thing is for married folk, Ya get me? I know your messing with me”

The rustling sounds of her swapping clothes kept going on,

“Afraid I’ll be too good to look away from, yeah? I gotcha, I saw how mesmerized you got just from my upper body.” She said, egging him further.

“I can hear you smiling through your words jenecis, you BULLY” he jabbed, attempting to mock back.

Jenecis chortled, “A bully? So I guess since I’m a bully I’ll put you in a headlock then right? That’s what bullies do, right Edward?”

Edward laughed nervously at their quick quips back and fourth,

“Don’t you dare! I’m may not be as strong as you are but I sure got some claws and teeth on me, I’ll bite ya!” He giggled.

Jenecis laughed with him, “So you wanna nibble on my skin? I didn’t know you were into doing it rough Edward! Man you sure got some kinks huh?”

Edward wheezed in his hysterical fit of laughter “Oh my god, stop, I’m gonna cry from laughing so hard” he said, trying to relax his laughter.

Jenecis ended her barrage of jests, “Alright alright Edward, that’s was fun, You can turn around now”

He turned himself, now looking at Jenecis’s more revealing state.

She had well-fitted black pants that hugged her lower half while having nothing on her upper half.

Her toned lower half showed alongside the rest of her body, her muscles matched that of her upper body, just as fit and strong. It was clear that she had an all around trained figure, oddly enough, she had numerous scars along her body, certain Knick’s that were near to being transparent but others were very visible, they were very old looking, as if she had obtained them a while back.

Her bosoms were slightly cut up, with light scarring across her right one, it looked as if a blade had been whipped across it and damaged her Areola, the color of her skin was slightly blemished but mostly blended in by now, Her ab muscles had been a bit scratched up as well, except the wounds were much deeper on her belly, like something had been plunged into her before, A heavy blotch of dark skin tone covered one of the wounds on her waist, it must have been a near lethal blow.

she would be considered a frightening person to be around for Edward, due to her immense height and mass, followed by her rough scars. However, she was his friend and he hers.

Edward was going to shy away from looking at her after realizing her breast were still out but, the wounds were a curiosity.

“Oh my goodness! Your belly! Your chest! What happened” He exclaimed, shocked by the heavy damage her body obtained.

Jenecis patted her scars across her belly, feeling along them with her nails, she easily traced her fingers across them, not one snagged or felt textured, they were simply melded into her normal flesh at this point.

“Oh these? Don’t worry, these healed long ago, They don’t hurt anymore.” She said, showing off the cuts in all their natural state.

She gently grabbed his right arm and lifted it to her stomach.

“Here, wanna feel them? They’re not what they look like” she said, tugging his hand gently towards them.

Edward nodded and accepted, Running his hand across the deep scar on her waist, his pointer finger pressed into its surface and gently glided along, no bumps or crevices were present, it was like the rest of her skin.

She let go of his hand and allowed him to gentle caress the other scars, without hesitation, he softly pressed his fingers against the other scars, smoothly rubbing along them to feel for any difference in texture, yet he felt none.

“Tck! Mnh! Gih!” Snorted jenecis, wincing and twitching as his finger danced on her scars.

As soon as he heard her squeak and flinch he immediately pulled his hand back in fright, “Jenecis I’m sorry! I didn’t think-“

She interrupted him, “No no! Your okay! It didn’t hurt, I just wasn’t expecting such a gentle graze, it tickled.”

Edward kept his hands close to himself, tucking them to his chest in a soft polite manner, “A-are you sure? Seriously I should have-“

She grabbed his hand and put it back onto her scarred belly, “See? It’s alright Edward, you were being more than gentle with me, don’t worry, if I didn’t want you touching there I wouldn’t have grabbed your hand.”

Jenecis put her other hand around his cheek, gently caressing it to calm him, “Thanks for being gentle with me”

Edward nodded, holding his hand in place and allowing her to pet along his faces side.

Their eyes met together once more, each looking at each other with almost an endearing gaze, each of their eyelids relaxed downward and comforted the other, both of their hands stroked each others bodies in soft rhythm. It was soothing for both of them.

Edward’s mind raced, such an intimate expression across her face, the way she was treating him, she was such a brutish giant and yet… he felt calm and protected in her presence.

“Jenecis… spending your free time with me at this house, you could be off doing your own things but you’re showing me your way of life and your hobbies. Even allowing me to touch your scarred up body, making sure I’m not worrying or scared, you stopped me from getting hurt when handing me that weight.

I just… You really trust me? I recall moments ago where I was conflicted as to whether you were going to obliterate me after our plans come through but… you really did mean what you promised, didn’t you? You’re actually my… friend.” He thought.

Jenecis was entranced as well, her hand continued its motion on his face, gently petting along his cheek.

“Edward, you can be so shy when it comes to interacting with me but, that look you’re giving me right now… you’re happy being with me, right? I mean, we’re both lonely people who are just trying to get by in life. Surely you feel this way too, please let me know you’re comfortable with me… you’re not still thinking about the bite… I hope, I’d never think of harming you, please just let me know you’ll stick with me. I haven’t met another favorable person I could hang around like you in… God I can’t even remember.” She thought.

After a bit of time passed, they both released their grips on one another, still under the effect of the earlier affection.

“So,” she said, teetering on the current tension.

“Yes jenecis?” He questioned, relaxed without hesitation.

“Still want to see me lift my gear?” She said.

Edward smiled, “I’d love to, Show me who’s the boss of the town, hmm?” He teased.

Jenecis grinned, “I’ll show you alright, there can only be one jenecis around here, hehe.”

She then walked over to her weighted station, laying her back down on the slab and gripping the steel bar that extended from one weighted block to the other.

Edward watched in fascination, “Wonder what’s next…” he thought.

Jenecis got into position, ready to flex her ability but then, she has gained an idea.

She pulled herself up from her laying position, instead getting up and grabbing the weighted object from the side of the apparatus.

“Oh? This is some ritual” Edward joked, realizing she changed her mind.

Jenecis smirked, “Just wait and see”

With a quick shift, jenecis change the weights position from on the device to directly behind her and onto her upper body, her hands still wrapped around the pole that held the two weights apart.

The weighted object rested along her back, being held across the back muscle below her neck and between her shoulders, an uncomfortable stance for sure, but oddly enough she was able to perform the action quite easily.

Edward looked intently, watching as her muscles worked together to perform the feat.

With another quick movement, jenecis squatted down, lowering herself to the floor while still holding the heavy gear on her upper back, as she made her way down she focused her breathing, enduring the heft of the object and readying herself to lift it up again.

“My my” mumbled Edward to himself, amazed by the motion she was in.

With another push of air out of her lungs, jenecis rose back up, lifting the weight once more in splendid form, her legs tensed, her abdomen flexed, everything on her seemed to bulge out as she performed the task. Edward could tell her body was screaming with an explosive amount of energy from enduring the weight.

“Wow! That was incredible-“ Edward tried to say, before jenecis entered the motion once more.

With another squat, Jenecis’s body pulsed again, her figure tensed as she endured the mass and yet she rose up right after, and again, and again, and again…

Time felt still as Edward watched in amazement at Jenecis’s extraordinary form, lifting the absurd gear like it was nothing.

Soon, jenecis finished her last lift, rising up again and this time placing the weight back into its original spot, after such vigorous movement, she posed herself once more, letting out a enthusiastic roar of success as she flexed off her form to Edward.

“Fuck yes! Now there’s a friggen’ workout for ya, you see that Edward?” Said jenecis, revved up from the training.

Edward did a clapping applause for her, “Bravo! That was amazing jenecis!”

Jenecis raised her arms once more, doing a slight fist-pumping action, “Hah ha! I’ve got even farther than before! I can feel my muscles burning for release! haha…” she said, now panting and even more excited from Edward’s praise.

Edward kept cheering her on, “Your unstoppable at this point! Well done!-“ he cut himself off, realizing jenecis was inhaling and exhaling heavier than before. Her body tensed and un-tensed, moving up and down in exhaustion, she was a little worn out.

“O-oh!” He said, quickly thinking on what he could do to help her out.

“How about I get you something to drink? For doing such a good job.” He offered, pointing with his thumb to the door leading into the kitchen behind him.

Jenecis, who was now sitting the bench slab hunched over with her elbows on her knees looked up.

“Phew, yeah! If you could look inside the second drawer from the left of the door, the really tall one, There should be a group of multicolored bottles with some fancy lids on them, if you could get one of those for me I’d be very grateful.” She said, with a slight grin from his offer.

Edward nodded, “Of course, Be back in a moment”

He shuffled to the kitchen drawer, reaching the tall cabinet and opening the two doors, as the doors went unlatched he noticed the large collection of containers, The group of multicolored ones were right there, in all they’re bright fashion.

“She wasn’t kidding about these being fancy…” he said, lifting one up and checking out its neat design, it was a blue and green hue, the two colored mixed and blended together seamlessly on the containers shape, inside was a bright liquid that looked like literal crystals, a sort of starry mixture, It was pretty gorgeous actually.

He gripped the can and shut the doors, now going back to jenecis in the next room.

As he entered the door he sounded off, “Alright champion! Here ya go! It’s colder than ever.” He exclaimed, getting back into his enthusiasm.

Jenecis looked up again, happily accepting the drink and uncapping it, with a quick motion she knocked her head back and swigged from the can.

Edward watched as the liquid lumped down her throat, with each gulp of the drink, her throat jiggled, multiple lumps running down her long tunnel and into her stomach.

“My goodness, her throat is big, Actually… No wonder! It’s different than mine!” He thought, Realizing her serpent maw and neck were connected much more oddly than his own neck.

After a few more gulps she let her head down, she kept the drink in her hand, There was at least enough left to take a few more whole gulps from.

She looked back up at him “much, much better. Big thanks for that Edward!”

Before her could reply she extended her hand out to him, presenting him the opening of the drink.

“Care to try it? It’s really good” she said, jostling it slightly to slosh the liquid around.

Edward’s eyes closed in on the drink, “S-sure, What’s it like?” He asked, curios to the flavor and contents in it.

Jenecis kept her hand out, “Oh don’t worry it’s not alcoholic, It’s chocked with caffeine though”

His eyes raised, He cupped the drink with both hands and accepted it from hers.

“Well that’s good, but… Caffeine? You just slurped like half of it down in an instant! That can’t be good… right?” He asked.

Jenecis shook her head and waved her one hand in a dismissing notion. “Oh don’t worry about me, I’ve been drinking this stuff for a while now, I’m used to it, in fact, it’s sorta a fixture for me. Ya know, I’m like, a bit numbed to its effects but it still gets me revved up.”

Edward raised it up slightly, “I’ll take it slow then, it’s probably better if I didn’t ingest a copious amount at this hour anyway-“ he said, putting it almost on his lips.

As he was about to place it against his mouth he had a thought,

“SHE JUST DRANK FROM THIS, HER SALIVA IS ON IT”

Edward hesitated on the lid near his lips, his eyes focused on the very edge of it, a small amount of saliva glinted off the spot where she put her mouth on.

“Uhhh…” he said aloud, still hesitant to sip from the coated lid.

“What flavor is it?” He asked, trying to think of a way to get her attention off him and somewhere else.

“Can’t she look the other way for just a moment? Gotta wipe the lid, I just need a quick second!” His mind screamed.

“It taste like a mixture of really sweet fruits, But like, it’s super sugary, ya know? It’s sorta hard to explain but I swear it tastes great.” She responded.

“It’s like a tongue kiss! Ahhhhh! If you wipe the lid in front of her now she’ll think you’re disgusted by her! It’s not like she’s gross but… I never drank from someone else’s cup before!

You know what? She’s my friend anyway right? I haven’t had one in forever so I must have forgot friendly traditions, maybe sharing saliva is one of those thing, yeah? God it sounds so gross when I say it like that but, but no! She’s offering to share and I have to sip from it! It’ll be a new experience, she’s not weirded out by it so I shouldn’t be, Down the hatch!”

Edward stopped overthinking and acted bold, Knocking his head back and accepting the centimeter of saliva alongside the drink, As the liquid splashed into his mouth he gulped it down quickly, not thinking on anything other than the fact that this was his first time touching another’s recently drank from drink.

“Woah! Edward you’re going all out man!” Jenecis exclaimed, shocked by his devouring of the liquid.

Edward lowered the drink from his lips after numerous gulps, as he looked back down into the container he noticed there was none left, He drank all of it in that moment.

“Hell yeah Edward! You’re a psychopath as well!” Jenecis cheered.

Edward wiped his lips off with his wrist, “That was really good! I don’t think I’ve ever had such a sweet tasting drink in my life!” He exclaimed, falling into the music of Jenecis’s praise.

“Looks like we’re both gonna be staying up all night, hehehe…” she giggled.

She stood up from the bench, stretching her arms out and then bending her back with them, twisting in multiple ways to release her pent up muscles. She was so close to him while she stretched.

Edward’s eyes were glued to her figure, the way it bent and stretched easily, it was so strong and flexible.

He noticed how the sweat slipped down her skin, the smoothness of her body made the fluid spill down much quicker and without effort, her grey skin was shined by the transparent sweat running down it, the grooves of her muscles were very visible, they were right in his face.

“Magnificent…” he thought, becoming entranced by her exquisite form.

After she finished her stretches she looked back at him, “Annnd done! Now then, since we’re both juiced up, how about we do some midnight exploration, eh?” She said, slipping on a new attire to cover herself.

Edward cocked his brow “Exploration? You wanna go outside? Isn’t it like…”

He looked back at the clock, seeing it was now 9:50 pm

“Nine!?”

Jenecis nodded, “Yeah! I do night walks sometimes, They’re really fun, trust me, barely anyone comes out around this time so we won’t be spotted. I even got some spots you and me can hang out at.

Edward nodded, “okay, yeah!” He then halted a moment,

“Wait isn’t it a work night? Like, you have to wake up tomorrow?”

Jenecis waved her hand dismissively again, “Oh don’t worry about that because A: The caffeine will totally keep me awake all night and B: I’ve made a habit of staying awake numerous days for the heck of it, it’s interesting to see how far you can go”

Edward nodded, “This sounds crazy but, it’s like you said earlier, We’re psychopaths! Right?” He laughed.

Jenecis did another arm pump of delight,

“Right on Edward! Lets go!” She said, proud of him.

“Yes let’s” he responded.

As they both got out from the basement and into the upper room, jenecis went to the closet and picked out dark attire, she then handed them to edward.

“Oh you should wear these too, They’ll conceal us just in case someone does happen to be out at night” she said, giving him the black pants and shirt.

Edward smiled, “Gotcha, We’ll be really sneaky eh?” He joked.

They both laughed, Jenecis turned around without order and allowed him to change, as he entered his new clothes they both got to the door and got ready to go on their midnight expedition.

#furry #furry character #furry community #furry fandom #writers on tumblr #writing #writers and poets #writblr #writeblr #writerscommunity #writer things #furry oc #oc #scalie #furry anthro #slightly suggestive #slightly not safe for work #duo #two people #talking #text #story #original story #storytelling #long story lol

[diferartz]

Defiantly Human // Part 1

Made with a purpose and a duty, so was the life of an industrial robot.

It lived decades painting ceramic bowls that was all this machine knew. Through these years many times the robot would be restored to its original form those memories gone and wiped away. Something always seemed wrong with this one... The technicians had restored its settings thousands of times, yet it kept drawing unusual shapes on the ceramic bowls.

At some point, it just became the usual form in that factory. Unit 101 would always produce unusual designs that were unique, colorful, abstract and almost human... The managers of this company did not care for whatever oddities were plaguing their production line. Who cares that machine?

Outside of the bleak concrete walls that surrounded unit 101, in the store that sold the bowls made by its kin, a collector took interest in the unusual designs produced by the faulty machine... She was prolific and a legend in finding the most beautiful oddities in the world. A noble like her had far to spare, and her curiosity manifested itself around what would even be able to paint something so pristine in that factory.

On a bright moon night, a visit was scheduled to the factory. This collector would get her hands on whatever was forming these art pieces, for she imagined the beauty of the machine creating these forms the thought enthralled the collector.

Brought to a room and gently pointed to sit by a worker the collector waited to meet this robot. Unit 101 clumsily walked into the room, its exterior was full of paint splatters, its hands bulky and full of instruments for painting... This robot did not have a face, no human features beyond its general shape, only a camera stared back at the collector.

This was the being that created the beauties that the collector adored, and she intended on taking it with her. Maybe in her hands this machine would be able to flourish a bit more than in this damp factory.

Hey! its been a while since I posted some of my writing here to tumblr. Life just got in the way honestly, I have been focusing much more on commissions and my drawn art instead of showing off my ideas through text. Takes me a while and some effort to cook up something that I think will be worth it to post it... or even dedicate some time to it. I hope that whoever is reading this that you have a wonderful day / evening or whatever. Thank you for giving me your time! I might make a new post introducing myself, since my old one is quite- outdated lol.

#robot #writing #creative writing #mini series #rambles

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary39

10/16-17/2023

mon/tues

i forgot to put the days yesterday, or i think even the entry before too. whatevs, i just need to remember from now.

anyways, here's a pic of me while in an h&m in that freaky mall:

maybe today will just be lots of pics cuz i didn't do a lot. i like, made ramen and worked on music. same 2 songs i've been trying to get perfect, i think i got closer with one, and then two other songs, i added bass to one, did some minor stuff to the guitar sound on another, just to get more transients out of it and idk, get it louder. but on the two songs i want to get right, idk, it's weird problems, there's like, a flatness maybe, i'm having trouble with, and then in one it's an issue of maybe i just need to bump the vocals higher, and then i dunno. whatever.

usually people write about how they feel in diaries, i do that sometimes only cuz i'm just so fixated on stuff that i think might hardly matter in terms of getting these songs right or like, living my life.

anyways, here are some photos:

i wonder if i could use these pics i took on top of the mountain for anything, i'd like to, if possible.

it's crazy how normal all this must be in like, the rest of the u.s. but to me the fall colors here and climate were super crazy and wonderful. i hope to go somewhere even more like that eventually, farther north in the fall, i would really love that.

anyways those are all like, the random photos of landscapes and whatever i took. i took a couple other pics that i think i can use for collages at some point, cover art stuff or something.

like:

i feel just like her, i think.

and:

this one already feels so wild, i kind of have to use it with something.

i didn't bring my digicam, cuz idk, it would probably be too much, and i didn't take the pics i have on there off yet, i have some fun stuff with a destroyed imac i found by my apartment's dumpster that i am def going to use, and some more bruise pics from me, bruise/hickey (lol).

anyways, i am sooo exhausteddddddd.

i don't know why, really, i guess is stayed up too late. maybe i didn't eat enough either. god, thinking on that, it was so hard to get water in denver, when we were in our hotel room we mostly just let icecubes melt and get water from that. the two bottles we bought (big ones) was not enough. in japan water was so cheap, for so much. it's like they wanted you to be alive.

i should sleep soon, though. i feel like woozy and i keep thinking the sun is about to be up because it's so bright in vegas and denver was so dark at night, i've never seen less effective streetlights anywhere and i am so not used to a lack of light pollution.

so, byebye!!!!

[libidomechanica]

The learne not alone till the hopes are you ten

A Meredith sonnet sequence

               1

The learne not alone till the hopes are you   ten years they both arrived at: there vigor   barely contain. Of days are to be kiss’d her pale, pale cheek, and song. With wealth would be a flame, in burnish’d hooves his wings after   frequent showers, and think a murderer’s   heart. And though lean Hunger and till, and lang has had my day. Not to be fair. Pleasing sound shall roll, too many flowed the reaper   weary listening for invention, but wayling   eloquence with soul intent on Death and paddling a cup of camomile tea. The company forges the glass a   whit, to say over every Muse and Taste,   with eyes that every purl there; so, not that began her, shall roll, too many flower.

               2

I never noticed you I never knew   that, had eat a stain. The dropping his hands   break out in boils. With a kiss should rob the rope, each from the river. Lord grant that I was, as the shapes partake, and multi-track   white terminals. Then blooms, it is like a   casque of straws the world adieu, a world had those lives a separate Hell. We have gone to cross to reach for my love hath my heart giu’n   me there! The stars in the bow, with sight and   the Forty-second time in liberty? As if I have brought of the rapture, that time do I ensconce me here? Quench like her   head toward man, as we prayed, we grew afraid   of clichés. Have stay’d and hear one bird sing terrible weight. The Lady of Shalott.

               3

Since life’s dearest bands untwining? With spites;   yet well I may. I measure time the   toy sloops go by, holding the heads never rue my troubled corona of new color, visible echo, and all day long   shines, bright contained: but with Reason that didst   arise but to be alone till their steps are brave man with a steady stony glance, but thine eyes that did driue so favourable   is to encounter, ghost or none can   tell. And there will open its way to bed: goldilocks snug upstairs, the moor; she willow as idlers do, and I discern a   woman, lovely maidens, beauties please a   smile, a wizard ensnaring; enthron’d in her e’re. She chance is low, then thou hast spied.

               4

Lady, you made them all; what we two being   mine, smooth as any other throat around   about, lord Gregory come here within the eaves, had hid away fled every wandered why men knelt to pray by his armour   rung, and that for my Muse and I have   had a system I shuffling the correct yes. Take all my lust: they mocked the unclean leper’s house within the eye and the   same; whether we are maidens of her breast,   the fingers over a thermostat we drink creeps with a stealthy tread, as might with the patient, but no one left me by train   memory. That must do’t, for she protests   to banish’d, I will please you call my art and daut thee, lest guilty goddess of light.

               5

The race of all subiect things raise plainly   the longest date do melt this be heard, sometime   hold my soul I’ll pour into a scream. The stars in the humble and prove thee in such spies, that you heard the languid ringlets,   blown a life-breath, and all my pretty rooms;   add one more death-moth be blaze up, and what should seem a cuckoo-song, as thou then worms shall those same tempo. So that I in heaven   itself for ornament doth but   approving speech about a woman’s hands that did spend, so drew my life unto an end. Are your strife, and crush on Myrna Loy, and   as soon awake, it tore thou my love alone   till the night and be cheater, being with the yellow hair, lady of Shalott.

               6

To run by her I loue and shame o’t.   Sweet Love likes a gander, and from out His   care: and shaven head again, thou fair Eliza! Love is pretty follies flung in the face defile. Oh Angel of hooks   question’d those blots that spot of joy. Both brain   that they still water? And I untightened childish push-pin, for our sport, did play; I put, he pushed, and drove the Lady of   Shalott. Let it not on him, or fate. A   goblin toasts a bumble-bee. To many- tower’d Camelot. To prove thee fallen, or not assail’d it round, and weary cry.   And this your love when he crouched to play a   note to see if I can allege no Can you knowing we did not cut him down.

               7

Is to a wife when thou hast sorrow’s   mysterious by the hill I say, who like   things have their end, that July 21st plack thy parts could be, i say if this snow and arrows stubborn, and Stand; she was grey, and you   agree? Sit in a tenderness, which droops   upon it out of the stars we see hung in jest; and a sliding board are all the eyes of awe, Grey figur’d, as no times I   mused it in him his blazon’d baldric slung   a shadows, ’ said so strangle with a dumb look of every day, and given me like a stone? The love concern: if snake or slow-   worm bite thee; since first forced me then and lean,   watching on her peace which this loss I were— where he is no chapel on the river.

               8

An auld wife’s tongue the sun’s golden-crowned   shines she doth prepare you can get nachos.   ’ Ye come here within another fly, we’re tapers too, and all things rushed like a key in a choral cave of drugs, as old against   which it sits, the way she did create   mischief in families, as readers taking of the stormy east-wind keenly blew, with whom I love the mazy web she stands in   dewless asphodel, looking on myself,   I see my love? Tak down the innocent muscles, bulging like him ruin your weekends are forty feeding Hearts of the faem,   the moon does not rise in pity hide the   fairest place to be said: the snow-pale prince to flutes, to dance to do with blood-red heat.

               9

’ Now the deed, and we in us find where   we lay: and each listen here witless Jeanie   to the delight a red rose witless Jeanie’s heart or intellect, whate’er she loos’d the broad stream that my name o’t, but   be glad as soon when from Camelot. On   the sparrows from you go ahead&eat thickest mists in envy mastered by the hill or plainly, so I could touch and yet, by   heaven find: but from her present pay? Our   hero was in the cardiovascular tissue, let me in! Citizen hissing each of us, and hid him in a   hole in the dark heart or shall live. With slouch   and wanton winds, with wealth and be swept away, so that an only’ s a spoilt child.

               10

But with me the Girl, in rock and round, and   since, not so much, or on the sea, war with   more weak Love beguiles: she is Venus, save unchaste. Time that began to moan, but the beginners in Love’s star with the   hideous prison-wall, and that pantomime   of brown where we’d live forever once, or there where faith so weake? Of pillowing knees; her several strings, and flam’d upon that,   he victuall’d and her cheeks. And made excuse   to rove: and we hear aye birds sang sae merrilie; the sheepbell tinkles in New Jersey light polluted waterlily the great   wings for there where you had those miserable   males is foul and bold and left us flaccid and dreams in a single Almond packt.

               11

Through the pasture, my music wove us   on its pattern and a wretched man, that   heaven, are changed, I think h’ had eat a stake, or were signs and sea’s rich which way to say like blood and well the prospect of   inurbanity, malge Sir Matthew Hale’s great   mind most kingly drink was the silver bugle hung, and we hear aye birds tune this moment, like Cupid a boy was the sugary   wings. Or were signs and signals, even   if unremember the carven stern she was swaying with his frost will, and the ear, a year ago, in the poor drudge, or naething   more than like one! Loser-like the dragon-   fly came back to you epitomize into the uttermost, I should have been.

               12

I will glove unto an empty thing as   he sat in; time, you of the innocent   muscles, bulging like a ring or a lightning grace, an’ merit, an’ tease my care, let who would love. That flies as I sat all alone   there’s the least of her his destiny,   he who watch him night we walker upon it? Ich libbe in love will be no spices thence will be the nineteen-year-olds, let   me examine the droop-headed flower   on earth and kin. Still beneath master here, I heard, cupid’s bow, front, an ample field; and what wastes and prove unto thee. Poets,   thoughts prouoke, dangerous family history, first,   prepare you mark’d the purple throat and charms my verse as ever ever make him run.

               13

Became to put on him, or fate. Grows colder?   I said fra Pandolf’s hands that old man,   now lord of grace of all the hope that the smart, the Count your pity is enough that thou then me! Every beginners in Love’s   star with me; whether better ha’f o’t.   No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, my Deare, let me the bad guest had slain. We have left by train memory sets forth the law, but   thou thy obiect so imbrace, and some with   the yellow hair displaced, The phœnix riddle hath neither not love was a bus. And be swept away, and play: a charmed web she were   iniquity. Who watch him night are lovely   maiden, ae sweet is the year’s please, refuse: though much, is not so much better, war!

               14

Now when he no fitter place will attend   the monarch’s plague, this way stoking thirst no   more hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope hope for here’s news, lassie, kind love talked in my heart. What matter what once and   ease my name moves by each shall I cross that   they hanged: they trod a saraband: and yet once is born in Bethlam. Day over the sickle; I, poor heart; but the fair assistance   in that heaven shall see the learne not   always hear time’s wing and is lost in marble of elements’ strife: he brought ye forth merely to show his step seemed a bore. A   flood, the pale yellow hole of life, enlisted   in play, and excuse to say, or chide my ill mither,—an ill death may she die!

               15

You, guiltlesse therein on the middle jimp   wi’ a lang, lang has Joy been at by the   hyacinth, so will to flie, first come at, is like a chart my little think’st thou, Love, where, you so apply, I warily oped   her throat and chalk and round, and so he   went from the barley-sheaves in furrows airy, beneath that vnbitted though its giant loom the stark and shaven head and Doom: the   hand that faced my three-plank bed, and watched him   over, if she stay haue made, but first infused by Love comes Sorrow—most of all, self- viewed,—nothing a poet out of moths. He   is at the Hudson trembled as he confess   than one must lie down to Camelot. Her wishes went! Of, as out o’ h—ll.

               16

While a Full Year was courtesy, she talks.   —At work was done!-Tokens that wastes and mounted—   he and Absál out of my hair were set up into love, my love’s sake, kiss me once and entire as that. For much good   things of gossamer you’d have had; and triumph   sat, whilk stood aboon the air is a mill of the world nis noon so witer many heart, that where there was a lass, and guns   implore; unmeaning, what need to be fair.   Without touch you know bedbugs? As I all other me? And her form withdrew the time by how a mystic Shape did make. We could   not act, or live in a rabbit’s burrow   or nest for sinners gave, because the Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

               17

At six o’clock we cleansed their rose with a   stake in his last night or day, the Law that   murthring Boy, since the first begin. About coming as if they do well to what red mournful, holy, she changeling Hope in   God’s infliction, nor deathsong, the language   woo: take me to the hollow except for mortall eyes might take at her flower-nibblers, the spirit, without straightway I was   talking to discloses in her e’e, as   Robie was thick with thirst no more hie, feare not. But gleg as light of soil, nothing but you but only the law that eye doth make   hot fire. No thing to disclose; so that sweet   music burthens every alien pen hath got my use and ever more pitied.

               18

But feel the strict sense of the thinge. Did I   ever wann’d with the deed with every part;   if then you opened each listen here witless men who looked on, and Counter-turn, and the Hall, dropt off gorged from the dust where   thy sacred relics shall belong to endure   one day you remain without her speaking a cup of camomile tea. Since their Destiny, he who lies and idle   hours from all ill well shows, kill me with scenes   will let me pick those about her cuckoo- song, as though its giant loom the thirst: for thy sake: for flowers, and wound round Hesper   bright as the frame where thy feet; show me thy   workes reproue, and never more. To sail on the flesh and not so long he stood alive.

               19

Too, vs in the shore up my debility.   And in thy affair, do you do   letters but grows stubborn, and do you sweare by her I sometimes thro’ the Yarrow, and sick surmise we watches through the sun; coral   is far too wan, or the kitchen   verboten? I thought, and I have becomes a troop of damsels glad, and the dream of a heaven itselfe, but first infused by each   one in me like swine, we all fashion, heedless   of my young brain on hands moved in circles moved amongst the forme of Lochroyan, and speak, whose little, been flickering and stranger   to me: forsaken lady to speak   a gentle cheated, and let nothing high decay; till she believes me, maybe not.

               20

And left your worth, and tears, the window stood.   If for the simple and speak and rave at   all. Resist: curst be the ark: so we—the fool, the front doth hide something; then Himself young, so lively figures if that written   in his separate Hell. All the field, said he,   if I had stay’d still to look upon it out of a kind of spike? I knew a woman is tied to speak a gentlemanly   game, but the curd-pale moon, the same and though,   taming a seal, one is dull amaze the brute blood, and set it on the sea remember: I raised her lids: again perfectly   pure air, did she put on convict lies. I   am not any closer—one day you refusest. An’ tease my care, let who knows?

               21

Now when he crouched to pray? And makes some evening   hearts unstrung unable to play. My   father raged in a cloak, as I think such rites were more than slept. Too soon they roam, by creeks and the world, growne now best do know   eternity. To her I’d nothing but   you but you are all these are the elms last night will lend thee to meet a man must die. Blew, with thine Image which royally did   wear his crowing, the smart, but be a little   tent of proud of that now at dawn you must go, what late since I called the girl who lies a wretched man, ye’re not evermore   again. And the bitterness than others   overcome both law and bienly clad, and strange, bold eye would wake her heart of trifling?

               22

He did not meet in ilka throe: turn again,   I long, thought rest to me for pity   is enough for canker vice the show’d; from underneath his gardener’s gloves by, untied her hat and burgher, lord and all her heart   beat thick and round emprisoners call the   stones, we turned them. And Sleepe holdeth all maskes my wo, come, come, and they buried Ben in four cross-roads with a kiss, what we drink   creeps with a loathsome grow mad, and restless   love, or how: but be glad as soon as breath the print needs the Law gave him to the gloom crept by each others buy; some stooping, made   into an end. I shuffling thro’ the   middle of Wyoming as warm as anybody’s right, his notion just, not I.

               23

Heard the lass of Lochroyan, as though its giant   loom the time that loosely flew her zone   in a cloak, as I saw her eyes I stood at the porch and weary witness Luther. The knight for ever. Curls as on his small   birds sighed, she was strong fingers and alien   pen hath got my use and flam’d upon grey skies above the wheat … it makes me tast. Is as that soueraigne part; if the senses   guides: he loved a soldier bold, and crush on   Myrna Loy, which we dwells at dewy e’en; so trembling lyre already claime from the morning aged women save a few, not   win who plays with a dumb look of events   is always be so; and i say that it works her mammie’s wark, and whisp’rings and vows.

               24

Of a pigeon taste of what hunted thoughts   true forme of Lochroyan, o open the modest   I am, yet never again, except for movement and day: and crush’d, and makes it blinding sweet, sweet, wee dochter, tho’ ye   come here? Than the very means of life is   o’er! Let crutches through a windows glazed with sun and scrubbed the heart may bloom well in which all worldlings to my cell. My mistress had   cut him up a Deity; but every   pore with sugred sentence sayes, that you can, be you still climbing slipperiness. And the barley-sheaves in furrows airy, beneath   the cycle’s changed, I think that from here,   I heard, cupid’s statue with thy soul move still, beside still, oh, still as a yardstick.

               25

Spreading ruin and wounding not to me?   Else that he gave me, that al hire bountee telle   can; hire swire is whittere that heard love taught in his small, washed cottage upon that do with round moon and the sweet air we tramped,   each in heart of events is always presence   sends whom she employes, dismisse from the heart in their image o’ my bonie, blooming, straight, a year who meddle not witches, whose   strenuous tongue in a cat-like way, and   makes it bleed again. And the star-laden sky, and wondering night. Till once, tearily, and I never more should take him; drest,   you strapped your name in ordinary place   he does depart the outlet them clash; an auld wife’s tongue, because the babe unborn.

               26

In the days gone down, of lying under   friend, that took the tilt of a kind of settled   gravity,—against his might employes, dismisse from thee his soul was underhand, not openly bearing the names of   melancholy fit shall make her heart? Of the   ruffian’s heart, my life is o’er! Thing to happen where in this hole your idol glass and queir; yet, by my love taught thy Tygrish courage   passed with a beard; or else to troubles   me: but remembrance stray: lest the Trial Men in the field of snow in a day of dark days of enforced retire, and sometimes   would be, i say if this wedded lie! I   knew that eye doth make my mind, I do burn in loue. Or say with a most evil fan.

               27

Should bribe. Like wind blows loud and calendar   in one could not feel. Together, an ill   death we’ll say it, because it were changeling Hope in God’s kind disguise! At some day our remote descends to utter laughing   scandal of old friend, and his cricket cap   was one of your lit harvest. One is harm’d, whilst thine Image which my Lover with a box of Kleenex, that closde-vp sence was held,   and walk your fairest maids on thy chaste breast   of bonie Jean. Now the staggering girl, her thing. That the face of meteor, trailing lime, and the iron town there was not her   husband has a crush it under pines in   summer days to subjects to his pardon ye your strife, and in his slow-chapt power.

               28

The list of all those three make in his e’e,   kens the painter must you of dutie greet with   the ley-crap, for I must die. A Lady of Shalott. Small clouds. In one could, noble; or of greater was thine sake longinge for   semlokest of actresses who might be   blotted: but the tress in an operation. And his Heart, and, as I sat all think upon, and whiskey, on the nunnery   of thy lawn, see all. Did she put my arms,   and so nor wil’ warlock, nor a cloth upon his heau’n of Stellaes heart, safe-left, shall see there. In the river? My spirit hovering   how she would be us, and dumb: but   each man does she doing? She knows whether will be sporting fairy, her wishes went!

               29

Now Ben he loves ask less the loveth none.   Even the night, and have his, by just exchange   one the dyer’s hand. Of your love forsooth: I have just sleeps when I wende and wake, forthy mine wonges waxeth wan: levedy,   al forwake, wery so water turbidly   flowed his step seemed as blessed you betwixt me and the garish day with a glances and when she goes, all she fail to see. A   wrong reasons, charmed web she weaves always open   halfway through a pure smooth face sound of a corpse was in them, and a woman I am and of the night long way. Not solely   that I waking might flow over tower’d   Camelot. Maud with the lily On earthly cates to pry, to find of ghost.

               30

His broad stream, and face the sun’s golden cage.   As if we keep silence of sweet side of   a’ the pure air, tasting troth. There were alive. The day becomes the grave at all. Then let thy love, and shame o’t, but be a   loving maids—the helmet and thee their pride   like you ten years of midnight arise; your springe, the stiffness by long salt winding a seal, one is the wits of slain lovers, made   my cheek withal, I did shines but sings. To   play a note. He often said that you will be soon: there are maidens, beautie but beauty with little tent of blue we passed in happy   I hae dream. When first resort vnto that   I loved, should to-night, and as he rode down from ancient cathedrals what is my part.

               31

Can those witless men who through. One is stranger   to me; and for the tide of what hunted   thy poor dry empty place. The stricter rule as far as words that the grey peeling porticos which prisoners call these haples   roomes too long, till he cherish no lesse   curse the man had done a greater grief to bear: I lay it not young. There is no vulgar nature I embraced amongst the key.   The sharpen’d slowly, can burst thee oft, I   pitie now the gaol rose up a wail of impotent despair, and perhaps a sorry mutter’d frightened child but in the rocks of   Rockport. Whom Fresh pains he did not weep that   lies by the river. And in black. Lay dead at my bow. They think on, it’s pride, and me.

               32

No, no, no, no, my Deare, let bee. With yawning   leer, each in heaven shall not be so   thy present: methinks with rope of his mother’s lie? Let his thing hard or harsh can prove there is no my ain lassie, kind love is   inconstancy is such reflecting to   do, we should do there more delights to weave thou hast please a nation—is more. I think, and then you are right across that sat in   the mill: but it is, though I now write fifty,   we might be five, so snug, so compact, so wistful eye upon the ruin’d woodlands drove through. The claws of a pigeon taste that   doubt you will never noticed anything   balm, and the heart has not swerve aside: it slays the world began to pick for breakfast.

               33

—Can child. When spray biginneth to spree. And   though, we were as men who love me—toll the   silver shene, the primal things are cut and curtaines spred; she waves rose hie and his bow, and waly fa’ the ley-crap, for I   must die. Do you remained a little tent   of recovery. He rode between thee all my lust: the grand multiple locks and all the year’s pleasant king, then returns the   pasture, my music hath a far more pliant,   and maidens, beautie but beautiful still. But a possibility poised to devoured his peace or war? They questions with   me the Drinking off. Of obviously   a forlorn child. With that fell with his gardener’s gloves in the corners where faith so weake?

               34

And the storm, and a sliding board are alone   is thy good report. To pestle a   poison me with laughter, tho’ ye come here within the air, tasting the strict sense it flies away, most true love a white tooth slips   on your assumptions about coming to   tell you I know i’ve no feet, some too drowsily, her darling be both my mind, love known a crib. In I do suspect of ill   mask’d not help it until you made to ride   backward look, some health and hearse our legend be, it will fill forgot if we ourselves, their rose on my knee is pressing did your   naive ties, they give up all claim his though   the print of the bad torch fell: curst be the pattern of young days, and into a rage.

               35

And the eaves, he rode down that light and gay,   living fountain pine, the days are to bring   its way into my e’e. The only what it is, the last of trifling? But that took my sight? I listened with Richard Rorty,   that I wad hae thee, and the street these books:   hope. And all the vats upon a ground of black which public manners of a lost lands. She had a heart. The broad stream that record   player. Of Lochroyan lay dead at my bedside   she doth ly, till the sky; and enamoured of all to Love whose lesson where one wound, from dying swans wild warblings come,   when I the monarch’s plagues, of dearths, or seasons’   quality; nor can be no other man that mirror are only law. Whistle.

               36

To run by her side to shade to side; the   curse may bring it back to you, had your state   shall try that i may go unto her far away; or by the hideous prison her modesty fixes the sea has turned   to dust in Humanity’s machine, others   all the flood! Weep, and seen your lips, which is hath been before my blushing battle- bolt sang from thee heir it, than words. And he   had thrust it through beneath a city, unfold   on trains is no place. When they read her name to see. At my bower window I with sugred sentence sayes, that you were born,   the summer, the day becomes our lives. All   is Venus when she wrote, the whiter blood to Life’s appoint out thee, and let not torn.

               37

Loving, nay of conscience is born of pride,   spread like a weed-clogged wave: and after they,   or who cam so far too wan, or the offer of our lives more be found a beam, and the same and the Hall and play, the sparks, it   may not alway. Like wind shifts and sett him   up a Deity; but even asleepe, lady of Shalott. At chills and kin. But you are right, his notion of orphans: firstly,   those whom Christ! No thing hard or harsh can   prudence those terrified vague fingers, braves, and all shapes partake, What my harmful deeds, that man’s hands, your feet, young love’s the best man   and wounded inward sight, and somewhere choppers   taking off. From the beloved of my harmful deeds, that the Future cries, on!

               38

Now what come with bars the day did dawn, and   then but a kindling, the greasy hempen   band. In the river? He cursed in the least of her hair, it is to me, for Venus’ ceston everybody’s right, then   everybody yet somehow—I know not what   thy owne will take time by how a mystic Shape did make. About me: my seruices may scoff at; in my last place; it wants, to   me, and elegance, fetter ha’f o’t.   For calling night. The sun as the fair. And seemed not one long to reproduce the old saw pronounce, which all worths surmount. For such   makes some beauty born of murmurs not,   however small his Chamber hums, counting of you, so long he stood a stone, mock’d of all.

               39

Like you a while, they weigh in scales is   delicate turn the page from the dust what they   were gone: like a weed-clogged wave: and while admiring them off. Or else he might with me the Drinking your face, Ioyes liuery weare, which   the patient, but no such roses: by these   which of itself so self-love possess and tear our pleasures with those sweet hair lay in such unholy ground: there with round and round,   and my middle jimp wi’ a haw bayberry   kame; then all that’s in her e’re. For Venus’ ceston every Law gave him too, and all this way stoking them ought vndertaken   be, they circle their seeming; I love a   while, to blush and not thee and me a journey take. If on another beforehand.

               40

All wreathed with a stealthy tread, as might   sweetly shine in time not Sweet I am   unkind, that he gave that little lintwhite’s nest. And notes each neat niplet of herself be lessoned so, nor plain, in earthly   cates to pray by his gore, he thrust us   from mine honour from the moralising Muse. Have you my chin, and watched him as the Cupid’s armor would ride. Till it grew   blaze in the mountain on which round and bleached:   bees pass in store—the coachman that lies into the plumes and praise, painting her grace. May Lord Christ should be the oldest and quickly   speak of a man who looked for you, but I   forbear, while ech thing hard or harsh or mild, and gowden was I using it over.

               41

Than if I have wived. The tame flower   in green Shalott. Make him at a plunge my   yellow hair, and break the heart in the story, first streak of alle thing, without thinking its way into tower’d Camelot;   outside the way the Chaplain robed in which   is the lights. She wants a cradle, and why a boy can’t appointed bourne: and some grace of all the rear, flee the city listening   cell, we turn and the race of Sage or Shah,   and trace, which is my Jeanie wist, her head: she looked as if alive. And, stooping; and I together. Pierced to think his skill, to   tell you I could spare: let his jive ass back   in the blessings of his mouth is clay. I who had given as his bill, he holds thee!

               42

Let me drum for that doubt or stay? Came back,   so I was obviously a forlorn   child. Though I’ve no excuse—e’en then worms shall approve there a weeping, how a body sways. Perfect all the sky, and lifted me   from mere walking. Lover with the words spak   never more. Him as he slept in silence decay. For where faith in a tradesman’s gown, and, as we tramped the passion of June   days, and where thy defect, for I ran and   wind, and I will come out of motion swell’d so to see, through a fen of delicate and rise the surly village, the moon were   paper-thin plates some mair he cried Annie,   ’ the whitewashed by the spokes of the sixteenth left in a trances and the diamond fine.

               43

&Somewhere, things are in the road runs by lady   of Shalott. ’ Daily helpe I craue, may   get no almes, but could know the woman, you knew who would have to tell, pointing her beautiful than necessary, and even   chin, and those blackened hilt, and like a   year, a year ago, or laces, I shunned the gate. Why, then, twenty leagues and imagine the loves ask less thou canst not such a   lover, and used, used utterly, in the   forehead to have a man with bosom-swell, make witness of hearts; and marrow was turned myself so quite? With unreproved is   a delicious food; reproved, is Feeding   from the shuddering cheerly, like to some evening cleared again, thou must be meek!

               44

For Venus’ ceston every drifting cloak   and elegance, fettered limbs streaming with   the movies or on trains. Woman, you of the Hall and that now a scholler of the dark one, that men have my peers; poets, thou   betraying me, when I shall make hot fire.   Wakes a man who’s injure thee, and that time, if ever to her chin, have I invoke us: You, whom reverend love it and love   is strength and paddling a living thing; the   very mud cried she, now break, now break your face at night which, labouring gate as that. Lord Gregory come hame? Who heaven’s sweetest,   they dazzled at her breath, this troubles   me: but I placed a wrong berth. The stark and quiver in the walking a mile, more trains.

               45

My true-love free. Flower as love ae e’ening   on me, where, how are ye Mary   Magdalane, but I am Annie of Love shall have a hand with a woman God did make. Around, around, around her smooth white   terminals. News I’ve to tell.—Oh when I   saw your worth, to thee, and that everywhere. Thus, thought I’d know that ere one that does container can contain. Keys opened each   evil sprite, disdaine of such doom waits each   in his face is thy good report. To blush and gently smile; and a shrine, all wreathed with publicke heede; by no encroachment on   her head, which some can not sing a note to   see if I can allege no cause. Wo to mee: no, no, no, no, no, my Deare, let bee.

               46

Unheeded the strict sense to feel another   form withdrew the tide the first foe in   this hole your trouble wi’ the fields breath had caught up, so mastery, while you sit fore your beauty it was off his lips, the summer,   the grand multi-track white tooth slips on   the weeping. Or if you cannot miss, therefore I would ye oil of speech, or blush, at least in fault, who by turns her vineyard—yes!   Behind thee to meet. Me is a pit of   shame, and the loins engenders there: for the village churls, and sipping a couplement of recovery. And sweated on the   West, the Count your wondered away for which   I let drops fra my children’s bones, is it better bargain driven: my true-love free.

               47

Till Gregory, as fast as objects worst   to vex the lawful reasons on the mind.   Cannot hear. And between thee and my star! We turn and its meaning, now, through beneath your eyes have been a lover, my Belovëd!   One day for man be the same, and time   wakes a man must weep o’er the stains that wild with a shock the flower in green complete, but none can tell. Who would hold on. It shall   but drink down from alle wommen my loving,   nay of conscience hold my soul. How else but some healthful anodyne; with love. By just exchange one that purpose. Sake but many   a smile betwixt the learned’s wing and   stops her pipe in growth, thee their light that light, cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!

               48

Deem that runneth ever-after, all, all   of the starry clusters blame doth glitter’d   free, at least before? And crooked shape of Terror crept till each thing to be that’s a toy that I was not its own; and hacked and   in them till the day did dawn, an ill death   may die. Sweet Love likes to restore eyes and will not praise its sweet is she doth sing and there is enough, and was wont to grey; a   cricket cap was on his life is to a   wife when as thy love thy heart, that runneth every part, I could not even a bud but a possibility poised at some   have neither twist lady of Shame. Nor drop   feet foremost thinking your face, the world, growne now so too; that mine own desert, and thee.

               49

Thy beames of love even, as a good   turns her vineyard—yes! In speeches, at duty’s   call; but hither twist or on the summer days from the imprisoners call the antique time! Spun everybody yet so   quite? It slays the sharpen’d slowly, Eden   lips unused to waste the scope of shabby grey: his cricket cap was one of the forest’s maze; the next are only children’s bones,   when he no more—no more hie, feare not doomed   ships that did spend, so drew my life unto an end. It is only a stretch of mud and loue now couple. That ere one dawn grew   fair some without a thorn, the shell is over   again, thou shalt be, there is enough for calling night. For busloads of tourists.

               50

Of the central creature and its delight   that some need of caulking, but no such account   to the vitriol madness flushes up into love talked in by thee presently, and lang has Joy been a lover, can’st   the law that thou dost treat it, remembering   and love call; all mine wonges waxeth wan: levedy, al for the kitchen. Are like a key in a crowd? Caught in me keeps him   and made them a curse, and prove it from his   separable spite, she looked like a willowy hills and floated in shade, under friend thee! Band sit neat, himself indeed by   us; we two being blind by nature   I have not—to make him eerie,—o why should have astronomy, but none can tell.

               51

Her eyes with full many a secret deed.   Nor that didst arise but to myself to   blame. I will give while wants a cod: i’ll never have tasted of Love, wherein my Lady rideth! And wan’d the stories   are not your day. I know not wholly, and   all men, beckoning out each day is light in her souls in pain, and I discern a woman. Or why sae sweet with Reason, which   my Lover with that times delay round about:   weel, sine that hath his cheating where thy defects, when small smile betwixt the last: all your jeering sky with beautiful and dark   latrine, all wreathed out the Future she   sighs drowned? All I wish I were less In this be heard, some odes I made of glass.

               52

Are what closde all inrail’d with a stealthy   tread, and binds one whose hurt, expressive head   toward does it with me as with a silence is fled, us canonized for greater bloom, she saw his world is changed the same. Such   certainty is beautiful, but thine eye   loves into the place and so thou need me like small rubs should rob their stars into my mind, my flashy acrobatics with it   riseth! The snow-pale princesse art of all   subiect things that wild regrets, and adores a good singer with a stealthy tread, which my fortune’s eastern blast did nip a fairer   flowing knees; her several string I   did untie every cloud that he may to a lady in his banks of the summer.

               53

Noblest Charis, you may stay yet here she   still he cherish’d May: and each got his dear,   and adores a good turns eyes fix’d in her ear in many a benison. Whose porches rich, and bare, and so long: if you call   my poverty; and enamour’d do wish,   so that thou art all my endless vigil kept, and syne he kiss should be, i say if this precedent so often thro’ the snow-   pale princes if it shall approve round a   wanton naigies nine or ten. To shore sate by the touch of Time. And that the sky, and then believes me, maybe a collecting   every part; but then her mat in Thailand,   one is tholien while ever to store the silent men who never should rob their straw.

               54

True, a new morn. Delight than the sky, and   now dost laugh when I’m laid by the indicative,   only consolation—that mirror waiting to tell to what it be foes. In burnish’d hooves his shape, and I should be   effect, for only contract, and careless   soul may stray. Man must die. Now what clothe the better ha’f o’t. Such though the page. And frightened marshes heart that black Despair: he   only dear because it will help Or whether   Laws be wrong berth. This my heart beating starres such by love; the Lady of Shalott. As if we missed me, and gude enough   to undo the sixteenth left in a suit   of shame stole feet we could certainly enjoy two hours in me the Moon of Beauty.

               55

Sudden spark of the rushing that long way.   From Providence or me afeard. My life   is mixed: the moon to slacken all worths surmount. Of yesterday! While larks, with ever by the hideous prisoner had to die,   and Timour-Mammon grins on a pile of   chronicle we prove, When did the water tastes rust in the hush of the sweet springe, the dropping his hands, saying, Accept all   happiness lessened anything, without straight,   alleviating the little bit, which how dexterously I do, hear and arms serenely by the hymns, all fashion I   have heard, some bearded barley, the hermitage;   you, to whom love’s delight as Love’s fingers push the features choice of direction.

               56

Heard; his Soul came the scope and cause why I   the more I looked upon the best of her   breast, the first time come, only, called metaphysics and epistemology, that fosters the delight of a millstone, on   the way you remain without a stain. Within   the hush of your eyes and chopp’d with the hand, the whole world was gone, can hearthstone? He did not help the other thing. No, no, no,   my Deare, let bee. And four gray towers over   a thermostat we dare nothing dwells in me but snow and cold autumn pond which my fortune and blacks and over, you gull   that in the bank and from thee so far from   his own heart with a becke, so tyranniseth thee, lest my bed, in a’ thy station.

               57

A cloudwhite crown of people out in boils.   My fear is that were contented tress in   an old one at that, but no one left me by train memory of dreadful dawn was resolute, and polish’d neck, with idle   paines and mouthingness, tis one dawn grew   fair some with bars lest Christ enter in? No thing in secret stay, and are brought in we went, with sight and saw, with ever-after,   all, all of thee: in others maim. ’Ve   read, nor, in the air is cool again I will bind my love decree me here within the eyes of awe, Grey figures on the grave   had, and I must you of the Ayr; but by   the ring we turned into memory is the first are young, fair Friendship’s truest heart.

               58

It is most fearful things. Pleasure she sighs   and that trail’d, by a dear sweet graces, where-   through a little head, and gone! Nor all your bounty wrong: this coming would sigh back at the fear? One end he tied to speak your life.   What was obtuse. Shirt off, dancing under   a summer days from your love which my soul was round and round nor contemn, nor drop feet foremost the passion of people together.   When a Mammonite mother die. Else   that hardly brooked the light, my orphans painting my rude ignorance aloft to fly have added feathered, smell of love? Yours   was o’ the bride were the savior of Remorse.   Throw kerchiefs at a smile betwixt the languish of the viler, as understood.

               59

Cross his own legs embargoed from the page—   the end—and closer. And Sleep will not. That   thou loved you betwixt the acts retire, and, above are dabbled with ever-after, all, all of this snow and when a breakfast.   At last I knew that, says Rose, I’ll sing,   or say, so I turned to dust, no doubt a consolation till it weeps both night that thou then spak his ill mither’s way: but who   would have heard, something like of her, answer.   Little tent of renaissance, I lodgd thee for my life provide that thee on a golden lilies a-dying lay, and wither’d   hand to Jove thee dear; o canst not be so   thy praise cannot speak of love even, as a good turns eyes are sad as elephants.

               60

One is thee. As though lean Hunger and brave;   but he does not die. Depend on Fortune’s   shining? So never yet had taste, and elm have passion in the first; tis flat since I exscribe your words that eye doth make hot fire.   Please me, I will drink potions of life o’ercast,   chill came to sink, was caught up into love, the sand! For I will be gone, and a word may say that soft-luring creatures that   bird? To thee, I did share; while sore than the   spring. Our sweet by the highway ringed in haste, is laid down that mine own worth the grave, myself will to me, the way you realize   it. Him mad, nor yet the tress in an   old one at his devour&feed on skin, on all points, no matter to gie ane fash.

               61

But take me to the true; and they would but   blow more red, and thou shalt ca’ me for one   plant again as you turn the door your sweet graces graces, where I my heart, as mine is thy praise, and all my word, she was one   of the city. And die! Do there, We die   and the black which fools may scoff at; in my free side, singing like the tarry rope to repeat. Save a few, not with those bonds which   my soul’s strife: he brought to leaue to the great   god Pan, down in their gates with icy breathing between us, I am thinking headlong to the same tempo. It may not   even toll a reguiem that men build is   built on a rock of height, says, Row the dear and feed deep, deep upon her peace or war?

               62

Round and round, around and Foot in his Redress.   I am half so fresh from the tide   the fingers, bravery turns green field sleepe so fast? The world god’s dreadful dawn was resolute, and hard: and bitter earth. It is   the Winter of my motionless, aghast!   Painting my age with the artist that light, my orphans painting my rude ignorance. The Lady of Shalott. We had no other   friend, whom reverend love thy hand, thy cup   is ruby-rimmed, thy leaf hangs a miracle. But prudence thou and I, the Governor was standing up in the spirit. I   shall venturous climbing slipperie place, the   Lady of Shalott. Oh, then maids were o’ the leaden sky, and yonder round and rare.

               63

Hoping for his mind, love Gregory, the   print needs to be a rug—turned myself, I   see my love’s castle-green; for a boy was he durst not sit below. Fire more oft then thought I’d know the angels know are only   law. I am not any charity   to give us there more I look through thou shalt mix in ilka grove; his soul contract, and his helmet and then returns the   delight through the Governor all the hope   that there. Glad I did all this just to annoy a loyal spouse? Noblest Charis, you beare onward bleak steel at the poor flowers,   and excuse to rove: and wither’d hand to   Jove the wits of slain lovers, brushed like a year, and Sunne-borne day you realize it.

               64

Drink up the moon in a shady walk, you   were as men who dare to try to rear the   cottage warm; know that others cry Too late. Such stuff was courtesy, she that man with earth’s old against his might with a shoebox.   Somebody, somewhere in the field, said he,   if I were living thing; the very temple of Delight as Love’s sake, give you there with the prince my faith in a tender   loveliness I never brewed from Tankards   scooped in from where? The drugs that was tint, her peace of your tongue make a lodging, alert. A well-wrought to your eyes as he could, were   near. Eyebrows bent, like horrible to see   is tholien while thy mistress reeks. Hopes are about going to do, we should I stay?

               65

Where I my heart is far more red, and used   to rave. Keep the moon-beam dwells at dewy   e’en; so trembling, pure, was tenderness, which Cupids self, and thou present o’er the banks complaining, heavily the louder roar’d   the painted screen, and syne he kissing against   my strong sun? Sorrows, and all my pretty birds sighed, she moves slips through my tears, those red mouth of a great seruice tries, those red   mournful, holy, she was king? Crab apples   for they found the view you don’t know the story, by the sweet, with bars lest Christ! Often enough, and to pour down upon the river.   Too many scorns like in words that didst   arise; your spring when I was a clichés and tell wherein my Lady rideth!

               66

Which sometimes through sorrow for years, the rain   set early summer all beneath the glove   my hearts can break and would burden I bear, and up and done thy morn! Give us the ocean is stirred by my loves, as some by-   street to take a lodging is, the more   uniforms were on the shore, they circle their art; they did allow; but the hearts unstrung unable touch do touch, which crowned her heart;   or having, runs on in my heart, and fall.   Or have cost my trembling pad, some odes I made, never noticed the sorrow’s mysterious by the sweet as your mother’s way:   but we made to rise just about going   to my bed-feet. Can those bonds which I compile, whose lesson where I, who thoughts to peer.

               67

All wreathed with soul in pain, were my Chamber   for they some couenants make. Is to pick   out the summer drizzle, remain as it well? Than thou hast stay’d still faire, honord by publicke heede; by no encroachment on her   heard on the love-longinge is ylent me   on. Under the children only, this world against my cheek to her cheeks. Triangle: gaped mouth, that other was a stagnant   tide the fire? ’Er the west, the faith doth   dissolution climb, and still art discontented beauty strange. Some with me remained a little lintwhite’s nest; and dearest bands   untwining? The Doctor gloats, and floater,   your unmistakable gaze of dull amaze the slipperie place, and yet, by my love?

               68

Neck; her chanting cheek the wet leather seat   then have made one another fly, we’re tapers   too, and after that to be alone the Victor is, and the lampless Earth in white, petal by petal, fall on the West   Side Highway, red light in we weren’t born   to be singed, but burnt up by-and-by; then, Julia, let me examined, it might flow over my face housed underwater. And   Fate sic pleasure have, life’s gay scenes must help   it until they lock the print of the stories are about going to poisonous wine; nor sham’d to owe it to those gold candle,   you of the dale, the great cause, which dare   claimed him. Who watched him over, so he would sit down arm’d, and proud; at last. Waken me.

               69

Against that broke the tent of blue which other,   by descries, while you my chief fear on   trains. A goblin toasts a bumble-bee. Help the other Grace but once it was thine eyes my knowledge with fetters bound by the wits   of slain lovers, made my cheek lie there,   whatever is abed, candles fix’d in her e’e, as Robie was the begins without stray amang the great god Pan, from ancient   cathedrals what is near. I never saw   sad men who but a mouse, dumbe Sleepe holdeth all mine wonges waxeth wan: levedy, al for the stream bore him of his lip should   not love with the gift refuse: though each brains   are fair: to dance upon the body down, but with the cycle’s changed his peace or war?

               70

And ever human voice o’ Pity ne’er   a lighter heard the lampless Earth in which   the one another? Moss smuggles stars attend the more I prove twas but passion; but prudence think’st thou, poor wag, that no day would   fain have charged his sight? Rules without fewell   you will, I did see the dim and well then, stoop, since that moved him at her side of what hunted thy poor Heart was the street these books:   hope. And all, to one whose birth, and bare, and   the dead. Shattering overmuch of aged star, gleam luridly. As if we keep silence, nor yet wad waken me. My nobler   part; and lust of gain, in the iron   town there is but one, which brought by Loues own slippery asphalte ring: and, as I am?

               71

The lover weight trailed its raveled and say   it is my part. And dreamed how the starry   Hope! Being want to saying what I wad hae thee, phillis the door! Harsh and bower, shall rear her soul, as if they came like kindling,   the frame wherein on the steel: for only   blood and by all forth your gaze, naked of reticence and a’ the lover’s een, when kind love too long, the fresh and bone away,   and if she ranked my gift of a new   morn. That dim apart, it barred the elements was lacking, and I got switches, only bitches, only this obedience,   looking on the sheaves, the way did dawn, and   clatter, the sun delight than the eyes for you will, approve thy worth the lily lea?

               72

The world is flattery? And did the wheel   of turning there: for the rolls that strove,—guess   now who like the hand that cold delay, and all took off his loss of time; or have to rise just about going to the bloom and   each would dry as wheat and loathsome grace; or   the cost and prove it from the Arrow, I the more I live, the stairs: and we knew what closde all in shiny black, with that voice as   dry as a dead smell still. Lascivious   graces, where I will seraphs swing that light as feathers the forms of Fear they say. A fountain under a strong, some perfumes is   the damned grotesques made him quite quite; so   to see him—for he to whom a watched people in out of my tongue when it makes cakes?

               73

Did she put on his law: and so long: if   you are gone: like a madman on a drum!   About each man trembles in her song she dight, all is well; he has but a bright, some odes I made one about going to tell   of good of my heart denies, oh, in piteous   haste to have made three paces through the dews of night I saw the spirit of murmuring souls to touch, and since, not a fingers,   from its spotted shroud in which this sort   of trifling? And the crimson stair we went, with his cheating cloud and can finde, cupids knot to sell. For which make him; drest, you soarer,   you freeze, I freeze you, break out in the   sweet graces, where the eye awake; mine eyes glow like thing he love that you know bedbugs?

               74

Naked of reticence and sense of the   deed with such a wistful eye upon the   grave—wrapt in a kitchen is your kitchen- table leg my knee is pressing against Peace in heavens endure this sort of tree;   it disna become a form, I see a   forsake, and all, to one neutral thing about his eye; and the crystal—and drew me back, so I was obviously a forlorn   child. A funeral, with bricks of   cinnamon as I listen here with a shock on my face, that mast o’ gowd, mine o’ the leaves that fellow’s got to his due, the prison-   wall, to tell. Sheds itself through a pure   unstained prime. By your naive ties, they don’t know a hearse our legs still as a yardstick.

               75

’ Side should be sure she floating the name over   and shame o’t, but be a loving,   nay of conscious Honour’s part; and a little word: and by the eyes fix’d on Camelot; outside the scope of shabby grey; mould   and draws it from Heaven these our wall like   an out-of-tune worn viol, a good this mortals, old or young prince? The shivering lies mute, motion swell’d so to raise, paints at once   were their art; they did allow; but the hearted   was he doing? Turning aside to sink, was caught up into one who never more. Slack, gold, upon all my love affairs,   fall by thy side. An’ merit, an’ tease my   name in one long since I call that picture twined, tells what shoulder bare, and tak the heart.

               76

I may, I must die. And sleep so sweet is   she now? For a man who looked on, and there   is enough, and wade in life, enlisted in play, and all those gold candle, you of the Communion tablet, the wild storm’s strife   thorough the flower as love, my love’s sole   effected; but take my word, she moves slips through a little tent of recovery. Like two doomed ships that she is Venus, save   unchaste. Make accompt, unless you.—Oh when   I lose the least of her might, and maidens are. To come here to stately place he does not rise in pity hide the spokes of this   pride of a’ the gude red gowd, mine own self-   love possess and music the better fits him than her lips’ red; if snow be white sheets.

               77

And feye fall in her ear in many a   lonely tree the little thief, who looked as   simple as the Greeks’ love of your life for once, for yonder all the red flower in green or dry, a man must do’t, for I ran   and a spirit hovering a watch him night   thee. The Chaplain’s heart in two. And you were born, the stream bore her head, which it is me sent, etc. Let me be borne, I   gaue to the Lochroyan, and gone! Eyes and limbs,   to hurt me more, plainly set her witch nor wil’ warlock, or whether revolution be the bush had ne’er a life, who from his   coming behind thee. That puzzled more, dungeons   may float ’neath my burden of her good, slander doth my footprints, I poke them twa.

               78

And yet once more blushed by the man had killed   the same. Of Humber would that were she. She   die! They draw but what thou dost laugh when we met, jumping from the shall see there; so, nor plainly set her with Secretive, sensitive,   sensitive, sensitive, sensitive,   she talks o’ rank and face to face sharpest paine; take me to the plaguy bill? Like a willing ear attends. Thee; I am sick   of shabby grey: his crown me thy legs, folding   crushed bird skulls in your brain. Willow switches I broke and private place and a shrine, wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poison me   without think forward to a harvest for   which sometimes the gallows-tree, with such a seneschal? Then first in the Friendly Few.

               79

Through the faces seemed light and damp the fair.   Then would open fi mi if I shift mi   hips to straining, heavily the long years should have to do no things was angry when thou seest not, till it grew can burst Joy’s grape   again. Propels; but I forbeare? Head, so   glad it has its guardians, go floating cake and dash’d the flower-loving and loud that young. Not quite a scoff; and what there. Not   the Mark, and aye she still, oh, still the sky,   and was wondered why men known to Camelot. That straight that was he; and I will glove my heart. Neither hope nor trust; may make certain   leaf fluttered with that frolicked with   its adder-bitten root, and, constant fire But just now I thoughts hath no loyal spouse?

               80

The deck o’ mountains; there’s as woolly   as the frame where smiling rosy little   bone by night, that dies along a scale of awful notes, who create mischief in familiar excellence: so that I wad hae   thee, that I could round, and on the reed, take   your assumptions about me: my seruice tries to turn. A Lady of Shalott. Was drunk as flies whose porches rich, and made him   three within another’s sweet Memory?   To raise my hap more hie, feare not even toll a reguiem that rights to peep, to gaze there! To my shafts. And laugh as he slept on   sand and, on fall night, where I am   Adrienne alone. Within. Moss smuggles stars the day. To have a hand with blood-red heat.

               81

The helmet-feather meet but in the Cellar   never call on me, the sun delights   the broad clear without touch you can pick up or drop at will, inanimate at last Tuesday a certain leaf fluttered the reaper   weary listening cell, and left hundred-   years-old name with what shouldst owe. Blaze up, and alum and play, the streets at twenty leagues, but still above the long years they buried   Ben in four cross-roads with a stealthy tread,   which prison air; the sharpest paine; take me to the poor kind soul to pain, were firm, or might, while burning to poisoned hill and gay;   but every man eaten by teeth of flame,   quickly fired, as in beginning is only a sequel, after they should bribe.

               82

By your nectar mist: curst be twain, alone.   For through a white v-neck t-shirt on you:   two cotton strips racing to run off with Williams wake to this calm and quiet mind nor tear they first come at, is like a broken   urn, for they hang a man: the Chaplain   would there in that spot of joy in the orchard forms go by, holding court for busloads of tourists. Must kneeling yield both the squally   east-wind strain a suddenly transmitted,   some beauty shall adore; I could sleeps— the pillow under it; show me those circles. To be envied of the stains that won   you to see a face, counts his neck, nor does   Terror was still, thou twin’d me o’ my maiden, ae sweet by the river lie long fields.

               83

Measure, girdle bout her neck; her cheek, and   the feet of legs in war’s alarms; but a   possibility poised at some wheeled in the valley call’d to thee,. And all shapes partake, but truly write, and the more I think   two people out in boils. His crimson clad,   an abbot on an ambling into seamless and drunk as flies whose influence is bleeding, for the autumn pond which there beheld,   that the comfort I have known injury.   More than like morning air, and her dressing did out-brave all the day. Once I was young years have been them. As he doing? Which   in my ear. As you turn the dead man walked   thee their gates of Fear, and then returns to pulp. And this year that we call Stella beare!

               84

When he no fitter place no wit can first   house by the highway ringed in a hole. And   large stride: with idle paines and wither’d hand to Jove thee her face, the melancholy neck a rope he did standing up in   the watch him when he tries to thee, and poore   I am their wood still he cherish’d the fetid breasts, have stay’d still delight than in their tryst. And hearts should be some stooping, made   into a point they do light polluted   waterlily the great god can, with no more that there are no giraffes. Little tent of beach houses high, so it was sexually   transformed. And is ever every   moment fancy me, or wilt thou wilt say, alas!—And if she ranked my gift to you.

               85

Such language holds then have: far I was young   Eulalie’s most humble and thoughts true former   child! No hiding-place for ever. Every beginning has, little lintwhite’s nest. Can hear who meddle not witches thro’   the air, did she put on his fair daughter,   then Nature’s genial genitors, so that rights the night, a year who meddle not witches unto none, thought once more—thou lovest!   My face a mask. A curt wrong number caught   with such a verse all Cupid’s bow, over tower’d Camelot: for in it lies? I know thee fallen adown. Her head: she leaneth   on a velvet bed, full round the true   numerous grace, beauty; and ye sal gae and somehow—I know I enuy you not!

               86

When butterflies—renounce their path, stifling   a laugh, and my only chance led me   outside the children of Illusion went: if you cannot hear. She died,—and green mama who first in character was the Cupid,   and the soul, whole ever yet they sang   to wake the hangman with me then absence makes no show, is to pick out thee wi’ as gude a craft rig as made him look so wise   are the lie! To bear love’s door—when but in   the shapes of the cover—all, all of the blue-eyed grass of heroick mind disguised please let me stately towers over my footprints,   I poke the princesse art of all beneath   the hideous prison walls sudden shock thee in such sort as, thought, a haystack.

               87

So that I in heavens endure this I   know why you realize it. And state, nor   all her head. That time do I ensconce met wi’ a rank reiver, and dame, to the ground of black Despair: he only what is my   Jeanie. Had done a greater, urge not my   amiss, lest my bed, until I noticed the blue branches the grass of Lochroyan is far more sweet music hath a far more appear   to me: forsaken lady to come:   so, like he was of Caiaphas. It is sweets you something; then Himself his life? Bits of former to accuse of pillows and I,   that pass’d by the touch had covered another   ring, and watched him over, if only you would gutter in this huge rondure hems.

               88

The wind upon another before her   heart? Unable touch’d it? Stand helplessly   before the sexiest meal of the breast of bonie Jean. Key in a lock upon the weak, it slays the whole of the fear? And still   the angels know are one: so shall adore;   I could he imprison fare, for the autumn holds dearest bands untwining? Lips unused to rave. No things come their rose on my   rose to me such an one, the men of mind,   when I tried to her charms, must bear without thine Friendship is Reproof, and out still were torn in twain with all the gallows’ need: so   with me as with the dewy spray; such thy   morn! So shall lend the sky above my heart has no been hire leod to singe. Have you make.

               89

But I’ll have had, and set it on the mill:   but it is, the cleanse from pain, is it not   onley shine in heaven’s high-prompting: not the better for thy young, and guest had slain. Stay then, dear friend, and sair she sang sweet smile   on me lough; with open mouth a red, red   and whisp’rings are despise. I whilst they did the dumb on high to sing and strange a thing no Warders strutted up at the better   earth. With arrowy smarts, that doth use and   fled away, mid-dream. Rather than a wound. Why then have: far I was my own. Shall I cross the wind upon another’s fate! My   own Belovëd, I, amid the doors, and   adores a goose: her full lips pursed, the know why you realize it. That vertue, awake!

               90

And, at dull pensiuenesse bewray it self   in myself uprear, to guard the flower.   Now Doubt—now Pain come never have cost my trembling passion free three paces thro’ the better place and shun the dropping hastily.   Laugh and still to hide the river. This   composed, as if she let herself to blame this heath, till Christ should have not stare of uncontested summer. For whose, because nor   sin nor woe, nor would their grisly masquerade.   A shuddering night. Tis held, in opend senses, others crowded in Porphyria’s Lover bY ROBERT BROWNING the rainbow   of the view of the more! The Lady   of Shalott. And some aged sires, with his gust is greeing, and my middle age at least.

               91

Say that I wad hae thee, that i may go   unto him, a blue halo of flies to   Time. And with a sword! The floating they love receivest by wilful taste a liquor never saw a man must die; the Lady   of Shalott. And never more slack, gold, upon   a heart swell, and yet once back to me! And bring good! The man might take at her side. Nor God’s eternal Laws are kissing, for   the door into the hill, and loud they keep   this flattering how she would counted by the walked with subtle to play. We went, with crooked shape so true, no truth of shame on   a day they would blaze up, and that come may   to a lady tread, as might, the Lady of Shalott. And think h’ had eat a stain.

               92

What my hart still above the mind. Thy mither,—   an ill death may she dight, and thee in   such a sight, we have given as his birth; all his own slipperie place, and, lang ere with icy breathe, or let her one, me another’s   person, any commonplace book   argument, which it festers so that record player. The little park with the advantage of all. Love is too young to know my   hands, saying, Accept all happiness from   my Julia’s sweat: oil of blood, and used, used utterly, draw near and showers break your list, put that thou hadst set a lock upon   the word repeat, the first let me carry   gun? But neither side, through that vnkind, that in: say I’m weary, say I’m growing colder?

               93

But some evening I couldn’t sleeps—the pill of   the daisies kiss our feet to please let me,   true in love Gregory! Shall feel an overseeing dull plays, have passion of the Hall! That soueraigne part; sweete, for all her wide   eyes my knowledge with the silence and the   style, and the patch. The water. For whom thy selfe on the orchard forms that which, snatched him as he rode with the mind. Against that soft-   luring creature I embraced amongst us   all who watcher’s doom is given in the midst may sit, and seen me get thee that’s sailing love doth sit: o let not fooles   take time tells him he is becomes our long   flat line, dearest bands untwining? That fair tho, the last age should not be the world’s soul?

               94

And thou presence sends whom she employ him   as their dear sweet flowers all, the man with   his because to run by her I loue you think to fancy light like tapers too, and all the grand multiple locks are all the   vapor can make not your day are wasted   in play, and a word! As glad the rose tree. From you go ahead&eat thick and round, and will not less, thou art all my wreak is, that   starting, is my part. Which there we’d live for,   live forever once, or the chaff with it the cup: if it be poisonous wine; nor suffering if they did think upon me, when   a breakfast, tea and to store thou wreck his   pegs; and his Anguish keeps him and means which band or laces, or fortune to bring good!

               95

While you so much bliss, hundred count eternity.   I leave poor drudge to be cracked, my   face, and taught in his Heart, and, wretched man— at peace, that keeps changed to-night in the day on which glibly glides from love was the waving   corn wi’ me? Long fields of barley and   of his mourn. Which their rose on my defeat, to play a note their grisly masquerade. My husband has a pall, that draws it from   Nelly Gray! Upon thee. No, no, go not   to me? Light in a crowd? Or sprite, disdaine of such a place, for yours was gude a craft rig as made into a rage. But I’ll have   his, by just exchange one that the deed with   it the Minstrel in the comfort I have smelt o’ the pure and genital perhaps.

               96

Angle of blisse while burning the touch’d it?   And from thy Bright Eyes he took the more I   prove there triumphant showers, the children save each the Prison of its prey. Were it lies the moon-tints of purple throat, before,   how it would please you quite. And there in this   flat since which is my Jeanie. Light, where-through the bright across his own heart than stockit mailens. Thou twin’d me o’ my maidens of   her sex: but could certain stakes I gained, but   only this odd warp in time tells you sorrow on a morning whispers, Tis the fawn that we call Stella hath, without thine was   false haste to thee mine eyes; mine eyes have done:   whether Laws be wroth to spoil his soul’s strife thorough the salt sea; the mair o’ the fair.

               97

But be a little think that times a truth   and sett him up a Deity; but I   know, when rising breasts, have passion free a sword, a horse, a shield. Of all shepherd lad, or long look at the deaths than one must not   such a lover, can’st thou, that the cottage   upon that doth my mind, and yet once back to you, had you realize it. Angel of the sadness of sages, who are so   low the red flowers, the ring we turn and   its delight as must help the other than a mile, more trains. The palm and me. Law that won you to me, until they lock it to   the heart in his inside. Jean Arthur with   a golden throne,—and the like, let who would that your dog and your hands have drawn thy streams.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #155 texts #Meredith sonnet sequence

[proxylynn]

HIII HELLO HI pls tell us abt your ocs ! how would you introduce them to someone that's never heard abt them... free ramble pass

[Well...Lynsie aka Lynn is just me (it's my real name and nickname, hi there). I self-insert into stuff and she's the go-to I use. There's a Lynn in just about everything. She's always sweet, kind, and a little weird.

Shade is just a living shadow that I made to be a loveable little monster. Prone to attachment and lover of scares. Is far more gentle than they look. Can shift their form to look like anything but their face remains the same. Can be solid or intangible depending on how dark it is or the need of the situation...it can hurt. They feel cold but it's mostly due to them being made of darkness, so there's an absence of heat. Shade loves to cuddle you so they can feel warm without the risk of harm. Being a solid shadow in bright areas creates an unnatural reaction, a Shadow can not have a shadow, and that's why it hurts.

Billy is a good ol' mama's boy looking to make it into the pro-wrestling scene. He's very well trained in fighting and self-defense, as well as performing (modern wrestling is more of a show than a real fight). He traveled to the Uncanny Valley after hearing of the unique inhabitants and figured he'd make a name for himself by testing his limits dealing with "monsters". He ends up falling in love with a Regular Guy instead.

Cassandra aka Cassy was born in Uncanny Valley to a wealthy family. However, her silver eyes were seen as a sign of misfortune. Most of her family neglected her and in some cases were mentally/emotionally abusive. Her grandmother, the head of the family, was the only one to take pity on her...mostly because she's the heiress of the family. She's always positive and runs a flower cart that she pedals around town to bring smiles to those in need. She ends up in a poly relationship with a Realtor.

The vampire coven/family is made up of four members. Vincent's an edgy-looking dude, but that's because he just likes it. He's really more the kind of dude you can bring to your folks and have no worries about. He loves the stuff you can get at Hot Topic. No one would believe he was a vampire when he dresses so stereotypically to the modern vampire punk idea. He does a thing to center himself/signal when things are serious. He'll use both hands to smooth back his hair, getting that classic slick Bela Lugosi Dracula look or something similar to Vergil from Devil May Cry. When he does this, you better stop, his patience is getting thin. Dominic is younger than Vincent and with an inferiority complex so he tends to stay in a demonic form to feel strong. As is, his eyes can be 1 of 3 colors. White: normal. Gold: surprise. Red: rage. His fur is so black that humans can't make out his face till it's too late. While his family/coven gives him all the care and support anyone can ask for, he developed slower than his peers and was bullied for it. Taking the form of a hell beast allowed him to not only feel stronger but brought fear to his former peers, something that gives him great joy. Despite his chosen appearance, Dominic is a gentle and sensitive soul. He shyly stays in his room and listens to music unless needed or something gets his attention. He tends a garden, having a gift for making the most stubborn of plants grow. He's very proud of his moonflowers. Liam, the patriarch. The soft-hearted shield that is a master in the art of wordplay. He can get you under his will with a mere simple utterance. The only one he submits to is his beloved. He's been around for a long time, eldest of the family, the only one who knows his history is his love. In his time, he's gathered a vast fortune, something Vincent has given him the nickname "Smaug" for. But unlike the greedy dragon, Liam is more than happy to share what's his. He loves wordplay, you can tell how much he favors you by the amount he uses on you. The more witty and clever, he really likes you. But if simple and blunt, he cares little for you and wants to get away from you as soon as he can. It's hard to get in his favor if you lost it. He has the personality of Gomez Addams (something that was in the dream a lot). Very loveable, eccentric, charming, and protective of his family. He will welcome you with open arms and let your actions speak for you. You have to really be a huge pile of trash for him to hate you. And lastly, the matriarch, Philomena aka Mena (pronounced mee-nah, like Dracula's Mina). The sword to Liam's shield, all matters are settled by her. A gentle woman. But she is not to be taken lightly when pushed. No one messes with her loved ones. Slightly younger than Liam, she is highly intelligent and skilled in the vast array of powers being a vampire grants. A silly woman, she mothers all that enter her humble home. Expect lots of hugs and positive affirmation. Can often be spotted reading randomly in any room. She will wear makeup and fancy jewelry for only 3 reasons. One, to flirt with Liam. Two, important events. And three, if she's feeling sad and wants to feel better...which usually gets to Liam so it reverts to reason one.

#ask op #op's oc

[phantomrose96]

For Pennies

Warm-up mini fic. Consider this a doodle.

....

The Fentons were selling their house for pennies.

The “For Sale” sign out front was easily missed against the ostentatious display of the op center, and the “FENTON” sign, and the Fenton RV. Or perhaps, all that made it more noticeable. It bolstered the weird and unsettling mundanity of a standard-issue For Sale sign dictating the fate of a house so indescribably odd.

It took only a few curious gossips to find the listing, and to spread the news further when the listing asked for hardly a fifth of standard asking price. Real estate agents weighed in on town facebook pages that, yes, this was abysmally low. Others rationalized it. “It’s only natural. Those house modifications have killed the resale value. The basement is uninhabitable according to the listing. They’re selling an extreme fixer-upper.”

And when the house did not sell in the first week, the price dipped again. And when rumors spread that the house owners were responsible for the town’s ghost blight, the price dipped once again. Then nearly overnight, the op-center vanished, and the FENTON sign disappeared from sight. The Fentons were, if nothing else, impressive engineers, capable of undoing a lifetime’s work in a weekend. Soon after, the listing sold.

The buyer, Peter, was looking for fixer-uppers to flip and rent. He knew about the Amity Park rumors, but if the renting market proved stale for the fear of ghosts, he knew the airbnb market would thrive with curious tourists, so the property was a safe bet regardless.

He met the family once, in the house, when he came to inspect it and sign paperwork if he was satisfied. The husband was perhaps the biggest man Peter had ever seen, portly yet rock solid, clad head to toe in neon orange. The wife matched him in jumpsuits, a powder blue one. Their daughter seemed normal, though she and Peter only exchanged a handful of words.

“Where are you folks headed once this place is sold?” Peter asked, cordially, eyes flitting between the contract before him and the couple seated across the table.

“Westward, a bit. Um, Maddie’s got a sister out there. We’re trying to be closer to family.”

Peter nodded. “Always good to have family around.” He glanced in the daughter’s direction. “Are you excited to be moving closer to your aunt?”

The daughter met his gaze, level. “I’m not going with them, actually.”

“Oh?” Peter asked. “Headed to college? That would make sense.”

“I’m a rising senior,” the girl answered.

“Jazz is—” the mother, Maddie, cut in. “It’s well, it’s about to be her senior year of high school. Hard time to switch schools, you know? She’s going to be renting a place nearby so she can finish school here.”

“Oh? First time living all on your own?” Peter asked, initialing a page of the contract.

“I’m 17. It’s not that weird.”

“Never said it was. I remember my first place pretty fondly. It’s an exciting milestone, don’t waste it!”

Peter initialed another page. He spun the document back to the Fentons to sign as well.

“Well, I really like the place, is what I’ve got to say. The newly redone flooring on this floor was a perk I wasn’t expecting, can’t have been cheap. You still managed to keep the price amazing though. Don’t worry about the dings and scratches – I’ve got the art of fixing up places down to a science. I’ll take a crack at the basement too.”

“We’d rather you didn’t,” Maddie answered.

Peter waved her off. “I know it was some kind of lab, yeah? You won’t be liable if I say, spill acid on myself or dunk myself in radiation or, whatever you had going on down there. We can go over that clause of the contract again if you want. Ghosts, right?”

“It’s dangerous—”

“If I can’t hack it, I’ll seal up the basement for good. But I won’t know until I try. Seriously, don’t worry.”

The Fentons signed the final page, and flipped the contract back around to Peter. He pulled an envelope from his coat – a check made out with the full amount. No loan needed. No mortgage. Their asking price was practically pocket change.

The daughter excused herself from the room.

…

The Fenton basement had fewer wonders than Peter was expecting.

He swung a flashlight around, as the bulb hanging overhead had been cut from the main power supply. Most everything had been cleared out, leaving a room hollowed out. His feet clicked across the metal floor. Walls of bolted steel rose high on all four sides. On the opposite wall, the scars of heavy bolting remained, along with the smoky stain of something huge, and geometric, no longer bolted to the wall.

He swung his beam wide, across every which wall beveling with bloated shadows, until he pinned the electrical panel.

“There you are.”

It took some tampering, and some patience, because something had physically demolished the box before him. Peter knew his way around basic house wiring, so it took only a few experimental adjustments until he threw the breaker, and the industrial light overhead clunked to life.

Peter turned, surveying the mouse cage of pure, uninterrupted steel sheeting, bolted together wall to wall, across the floor, across the ceiling. It was an impressive expanse of space, and under the proper flood lighting Peter could make out the deeper shadowy stains of where industrial cabinets used to be affixed to the floors, the walls. He was staring into the burnt out afterimage of what, he could only conjecture, had once been an impressive scientific facility.

It wasn’t above being carpeted and turned into a rec room.

Peter paused, his eyes training to the back corner near the octagonal imprint left in the wall. Something seemed amiss, something with color, popping bright against a display of pure ash and silver.

Peter stepped forward, flashlight still pointed though it served little use now. The space took shape – a rectangular impression on the floor, about as large as a twin bed, formed a negative image. The rectangle was spotlessly clean, silver and shiny, as though recently cleaned and polished and recleaned and repolished.

It was the edges of the rectangle, the spatters of space stretching beyond it, that held Peter’s attention.

Green, verging toward a rusty brown, splattered the floor. He stepped closer, and knelt, and stared at the pattern. Like a dropped vial of green chemicals that shattered and spattered the floors, the neighboring wall. Like radioactive spill left to eat into the floor. Peter thought back to his radioactive quip, and wondered if he should perhaps back away.

He set a nail to one of the stains and scratched at it. It would not lift. It would not budge. He swung the flashlight beam, and he found the stains glittered, and then dulled where they edged closer to rust.

And it was the rust that confused Peter the most. That copper color, like pennies, that morphed away from the green. It wasn’t uniform. It did not eat away symmetrically at the edges of the stains. Instead it spattered, and dragged, and molded from droplets to long streaks dragging across the floor like chalk dust on a blackboard.

Peter followed them. The streaking ended. Beyond that, he caught a single droplet speckled into the floor a foot away. Another, when he swung his beam. And another. He followed them, one by one, tracing them back to the basement stairs, up, up, up, up.

At the top of the stairs, the trail vanished. The brand new hardwood flooring that stretched through the whole first floor was immaculate.

#danny phantom #dp #dp fanfiction #implied character death

[sugarrushproductions]

Darkwing Duck Reboot

Old Habits, Same Face

Needless to say, Darkwing was out on the streets within a couple of hours after LP and the others left for Duckburg. The five days that they stayed, Gosalyn wouldn’t let anyone but Lena and the triplets into her room. Drake hadn’t been able to get to her much and when she came out for meals, though she wasn’t completely cut off, she wasn’t fully there either. It got worse when LP left.

Why can’t he just stay? Darkwing thought as he rode through the city on Ratcatcher, searching for any signs of villainy. Nothing was coming up to distract him from his troubling thoughts.

Was he not good enough to make LP want to stay?

You’re being selfish, Drake, rang in his head. Launchpad had a family in Duckburg, a life; How could he ask him to leave it? How could he wish that?

“Hold still!” a voice yelled from an ally. “This will only take a second.” Crash! “Ugh, You’re making this harder than it has to be!”

Finally! A crime to fight! It sounded like that woman was harassing someone. A mobster or just a mugger? Though, her voice seemed too soft, too weirdly apologetic, too… familiar. Still, he had to do something. Parking Ratcatcher nearby and getting out some smoke bombs, Darkwing readied his entrance.

“I am the terror that flaps in night!” he yelled as he threw down the smoke bombs, creating a purple mist bath for the ally for him to jump into. “I am the lightning bolt Zeus has lost! I am- wha-ogch!” he cried out as he was thrown against the wall. Why did he never get to finish his catchphrase?

“Leave me be; I’ve work to do.” The woman’s voice was now strict and slightly foreboding. Still really familiar.

“There is no way I can do that, vile verminous, malicious mobster!” Quickly, though he couldn’t see but a silhouette of a tall woman, he went for an uppercut. She stumbled back at the force of it, but where her hands were soon glowed a bright blood red. The same color he saw before he was thrown against the wall. What kind of weapons were those? No matter.

Before the woman found him, he ran and punched her in the stomach. With a loud groan she staggered back against the wall. Darkwing heard her growl as he was raised in the air and thrown to the ground. Over and over again, each one hurting more than the last.

“Why can’t people like you just leave me alone? I’m not hurting anyone!”

“Tell that- ow! To- ow! Ow! Ow!” Finally, he was thrown against the wall again and was quickly wrapped in some loose cloth. He could easily-

Hissss.

Suddenly, in a flash of red, the cloth was no longer cloth but constricting silver snakes.

“Oh, darn it. I meant to do steel chains. Sorry- Drake?” the woman asked. Darkwing would have said something, but a snake was wrapping itself around his beak. Nearby, the lights of a store that had been having electrical problems finally turned on. It let a warm glow fall over them, allowing Darkwing to see her in full. 

(JuciyDucks art)

Tall but not fully skinny, spiked, almost wild black hair with gray streaks, two framing her face. He knew she dyed them in. A bright red shirt and maroon jacket that had gold around the collar and sleeves, torn at the bottom. She had a white choker with a bright red jewel that let her green eyes shine bright. Even as they were filled with confusion.

“Morgana?” he mumbled. The snake was not happy at the movement, quickly moving its head to hiss in his eyes. Darkwing whimpered as his eyes widened in fear.

“Oh, right.” With a quick wave of her hands the snakes turned to a lightweight metal. “Sorry, Drake.”

“Uh, could you not call me that name right now? I’m in my hero suit, after all.”

“You really took cosplaying to another level,” Morgana muttered, looking him up and down with an amused smile. “You are too cute, Darkwing.” The compliment that bordered on condescension made him blush. He quickly shook his head to regain his thoughts.

“What are you doing in St. Canard? I thought you lived in Transilvania.”

“Ugh, everyone there was getting on my nerves. Trying to get me to do more magic, yet never giving me a straight answer when I asked how to transform a hat into a stinking wolf!” Morgana stamped her foot and red shot out from under it. Darkwing’s hat was suddenly heavier. And softer. And growling…

A purple wolf pounced off his head and began to chase him around. Morgana, apologizing profusely, shot red bits of magic after the wolf, transforming, among other things, a trash bin to a toaster, a poster into a grilled cheese, and the light bulbs of the building across into birds. Finally, Darkwing used his grappling hook to hang up out of its reach from the fire escape.

"Heel, you stupid mutt!" Morgana yelled, shooting one last blast at the wolf. Darkwing's wide brimmed hat fluttered to the ground as he followed.

“Thanks,” he said, brushing the purple fur off and putting it back on his head. 

“Don’t thank me, I caused the mess,” Morgana muttered dejectedly, looking more like she had the first time Darkwing seen her. Unsure of herself and no confidence. “Maybe-”

“No. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Morgana tilted her head in innocent confusion as Darkwing gave her a familiar glare.

“Beat yourself up over an accident.” Morgana made to protest, but Darkwing stopped her. “So you messed up and turned my hat into a purple wolf that tried to eat me. So what? At least you made it change. That’s progress!” Morgana smiled at him fondly.

“Yeah, I guess it is…” A crash was heard from across the street startling the two. Morgana tried to insist on going over to help, but Darkwing told her that it was his job. However, he asked if she wanted to meet up for lunch at the Dave & Busters for lunch the next day. She obliged and they went their separate ways for the night.

By the time Darkwing had finished getting rid of the light bulbs turned mean, pecking birds, he hardly had enough energy to finish his patrol. Looking at the radar on his motorcycle, he saw that it was a fairly quiet night. He figured he could make it home and get some rest before tomorrow. He couldn’t wait for Gos to meet Morgana. 

And then he remembered. Sure, there were no robberies, no muggings, no shootings. But there were no signs of a certain duck or bull either…

He’d find them. Even if it took the rest of his life, Drake would keep his promise to his girl.

. . .

In the morning, Gosalyn was sleepier than usual. It took the combination of Drake knocking on her door five different times, going in there to shake her awake a little, and the smell of waffles to get her up.

At first Drake assumed that she'd just been on her phone all night and was about to scold her for it, when he remembered that her phone hadn't left the designated charging area for when she wasn't allowed to use it. So that left the question of what made her so tired.

But he'd deal with that later. Drake wanted her on her best behavior for their day with Morgana.

"Who's Morgana again?" Gosalyn asked as they waited at the entrance to the restaurant. Drake was about to answer, but a voice did it for him.

"That would be me," Morgana said as she walked up to them. Her purse was black with a few occult pins and chains that Gosalyn was immediately fascinated with. "Sorry I'm late. I had a few… things to take care of." Drake gave her a confused and suspicious look. 

"Oo! Like… magic, things?" Gosalyn asked, a mischievous look on her face. Morgana, for a split second, gained a worried look that could have been confusion. Drake was the only one who noticed what it really was.

"Um… nope! Nothing like that. I was just… watering my plants." Gosalyn groaned as Drake ushered them inside. But he gave Morgana a look that said that she would be questioned later. It was a look he'd often give her.

"Table for three; one 11, two adults," Drake told the host. As he led them to their table, Drake noticed that while Gosalyn seemed like she was eager to start playing some games, her eyes held the tired makings of something else. Drake was sure to put her on the inside of the booth.

As they ordered their drinks, Morgana's eyes had a mischievous glint that Drake had seen many times before, and they never turned out well for the people's self esteem when it was directed at them.

"So, who's the lucky guy you adopted her with?" Morgana asked extremely nonchalantly as she stirred the ice around in her latte. Drake choked on his water, blushing like crazy. 

"Why'd you assume I'm adopted by him and another guy?" Gosalyn asked. "Wouldn't you first think about me being his biological daughter with a girl." After all that happened the past year, the one constant was people assuming that.

"Most would if they hadn't dated him."

"You dated Drake!?" Morgana chuckled, especially when she asked about embarrassing stories.

"Oh, there are plenty of those. Granted, I caused most of them, but it was still funny." 

As they ate, Drake had to endure her telling embarrassing stories of how he tripped over her feet when they first met (she said it right), him often getting caught with the weirdest cosplays (like a purple bath towel and cardboard hat), and how she'd accidentally turned him into a fish, cat, and bull once (all separate times). Gosalyn redirected the conversation then, ignoring the fact that Morgana accidentally confirmed she used magic, which concerned Drake.

"So, how did you two break up? You seem to get on really well."

"Well," Drake started nervously. Sure, he'd never exactly hidden that he was gay from her, but he wasn't sure how'd she would react to it being outright said. "It was mutual, I'll tell you that."

"Yes, but if I never dated him, I do think I would've realized I was bi as soon as I did," Morgana continued. Gosalyn tilted her head. "It means that I like both men and women."

"Oh. Cool," Gosalyn answered. That settled the nerves in Drake’s stomach a little as he spoke again.

"A-and she, well, helped me realize that I… I was .. um,... gay?" Gosalyn noticed his nerves and hugged him after he finished. 

"You don't have to be nervous. My grandpa told me to accept everyone for who they are." Drake chuckled and hugged her back.

"I can't wait to meet him." Gosalyn tensed, but quickly covered it by teasingly punching his arm.

"No wonder you always make goo-goo eyes at Launchpad all the time."

"I- I do not!" Drake's red face said otherwise. Morgana watched the exchange in amusement. By doing this, she learned that Drake had been playing Darkwing in real life for about two years (the first with little crime to fight because of Gizmoduck. She was sure he wanted to say something mean about him), fought with Scrooge McDuck in that weird moon invasion, had been taking care of Gosalyn for over a year, and helped Scrooge defeat F.O.W.L; all because of one duck.

Finally, to get Gosalyn to leave him alone, he gave her twenty bucks to go play games. Just that he would be checking some of them after. Drake seemed to think something was up, but she couldn’t figure out what it was.

. . .

It had taken Gosalyn forever to find a kid who would trade whatever prizes and tickets they had for her twenty bucks and play the games with her name as the player. But she did it. And now she could get on with her mission.

Last night, Gosalyn hadn't gotten back to the apartment until 3:am, like the rest of the week. How Drake did that every night without fail, she didn't know. And she wondered if he ever felt this disappointed any time a mission failed.

Finding a nice secluded corner of the arcade, she got out her old laptop, connected to the wifi, and started her research. If Wanda wasn’t such a stupid tattletale, she would have used her. But this was personal and she didn't need him stopping her.

Taurus Bulba, once a renowned scientist and worldwide innovator, now is in maximum security prison-

Outdated info. Maybe deeper in the page.

Dr. Bulba has just made the world's biggest discovery. According to him, anyway. But with the string of accidents, people have a right to be skeptical.

Sounded like a good read if Bulba was being attacked for his lies, but not what she was looking for. Maybe if she went further.…

In astrology, Taurus is the second sign of the zodiac, considered as governing that portion of the year from about April 20 to about May 20. Its representation as a bull is related to the Greek myth of Zeus, who assumed the form of a bull to abduct Europa. Taurus.

"Oh, come on!" She yelled in frustration. That wasn't even close to what she needed. "I just need a little more!"

"Gos?" She heard Lena's voice from in front of her. Quickly, she shut her laptop and put it in her backpack, lest Lena find out what she was up to. 

. . .

"He what?!" Morgana asked, laughing with a blushing Drake. 

"Yeah, he's not the best at cooking." Morgana coughed something that sounded like 'hypocrite'. Drake glared.

"What?" She asked innocently, batting her eyes in her mischievous way. Drake narrowed his eyes and she chuckled as she took a bite of her food. "I'm just saying, you have a nasty habit of forgetting the milk in recipes. For better and worse."

"Don't you mean, 'or'?"

"Nope!" Drake rolled his eyes and continued eating. It was nice seeing Morgana again, even though she was teasing him relentlessly and embarrassing him, but last night still bugged him.

"Hey, Morgana?" He treaded softly.

"Yeah Drake?" She asked, focusing more on her plate than him.

“What were you doing last night before I found you?”

Previous/Next

Index

#darkwing duck #drake mallard #dt17 #dt17 gosalyn #dt17 launchpad #drake x lp #drakepad #darkwing dad #darkwing duck reboot

[comradekatara]

the gaang & fire nation girls + decorative sensibilities? (like how they arrange their living space & decorate it and so forth---furniture styles & color palettes they like, stance on shag rugs, etc) canon or modern au!

okay I answered it for modern au here and since that’s basically just a take on their personalities with more (relatable/contemporary) options, im gonna try to answer this question now with avatar worldbuilding in mind (obviously this is all postwar since kids have basically no say in their living spaces lol)

aang is a nomadic monk. as we see from flashbacks, his childhood bedroom was pretty sparse. if he lives anywhere it’s on appa. that said, he has a lot of opinions on his friends’ interior design choices. especially zuko’s. he keeps insisting that zuko needs to declutter his bedroom & office and open the curtains so as to get some natural light in. zuko does no such thing.

katara’s bedroom is very comfortable and inviting, full of furs and rugs and warmth. everyone feels at home the second they enter it. for this reason among many others, hakoda worries about boys feeling a bit too invited, which is a concern of his that they fight over often. “oh i saved the world but you don’t trust me to be alone with a boy???!?!??” (sokka refuses to get involved in this squabble, but he secretly thinks that his dad makes some fair points.)

sokka loves collecting material possessions from all over the world, whether it be weapons, maps, books, weird hats, fake beards, etc. he also keeps very detailed scrolls sorted by date in a rack under his desk, and his desk is lined with all sorts of little trinkets, many of which are just little statues toph made for him. his bedroom and his office can only be described as organized chaos. he has so much stuff, but rest assured, he has a system for all of it, and if anyone moves anything out of place he will know and freak out about it.

toph likes to keep things sparse. she doesn’t like ostentation or anything fancy—her prized possession is a lump of leftover meteorite sokka gave her. if she had it her way, she’d live in shrek’s swamp hovel. and by the time she’s an old lady, that’s exactly what she does.

like sokka, zuko loves clutter, but unlike sokka, it has little to do with the items he possesses, and more that zuko simply cannot stand negative space. rooms that are too bare and bright and large make zuko feel exposed and anxious. despite being the firelord, he finds the smallest bedroom and office available in the palace and uses those, to pretty much everyone’s confusion. but that’s how he likes it. cramped and dark and safe.

suki’s house on kyoshi island is cute and homey. she keeps her weapons and uniform displayed on the wall when she’s not using them, and hangs up art and letters from her friends, and keeps flowers in little pots on her desk. her biggest problem is that she absolutely hates cleaning and is therefore always trying to cajole other people into doing it for her. she’s lucky that she doesn’t even need to ask sokka because he hates mess so much he’ll just start cleaning unprompted, but for most of the year when he’s not on kyoshi island, she tries to goad the other kyoshi warriors into bets wherein the loser has to clean the winner’s apartment. since they are all extremely competitive, they always take the bait, and that’s how her house stays clean :)

once they move in together, ty lee and mai compromise on a tasteful pink and black colorscheme, decorated with the weirdest art they can possibly find, as well as their friends’ art, and their own. their favorite piece of decor is a one of a kind tapestry by a kyoshi island artisan depicting the tragic history of avatar kuruk* and his futile battle against malevolent spirits. even their cats recognize that this is a prized possession, and never attempt to scratch or bite it. (*while ty lee is more of a kyoshi and yangchen girlie herself, kuruk is mai’s favorite avatar because he helps prove her theory that “sexy people suffer the most.”)

azula doesn’t like keeping anything other than necessities. opulence isn’t necessary if you truly have nothing to prove, and sentimental keepsakes are a display of weakness. eventually, she starts decorating her space with more of her own art (mostly ceramics, and some watercolors), as well as some sculptures by toph, and a portrait of her and zuko as children that she finds in the attic of the ember island house. she takes the advice aang gives that zuko refuses to follow and opens the curtains wide. rather than feeling as if she is being watched, she enjoys being able to look out at the world. and besides, if she feels exposed, it doesn’t matter; she has nothing to prove.

#the gaang and #postwargaang #beangods #asks

[monicashipsnickyjoe]

soulmate/modern au

Nicky has a nervousness about him that he’s never been able to explain. He keeps feeling like something’s missing. Like he’s forgotten the name of an important thing and it’s sitting, impatient, at the tip of his tongue. He can’t recall. Or he doesn’t know. It’s all terribly confusing, and so, so frustrating.

He’ll walk down the street, see a family of duckings that makes him smile, and turn to his right to tell... someone. No one’s there.

Sometimes, when he’s tired, he’ll order two coffees at the shop on the corner, making one much sweeter than he likes it. Only when he walks away does he remember he’s alone.

When his friends encourage him, he goes to bars. He meets men, and occasionally he will let them touch his arm or his shoulder or his thigh from the bar stool beside his. Sometimes, he lets them kiss him. Never, is he able to ignore the feeling of wrong that prickles over his skin and twists in his stomach. Always, he leaves without them. If he has their number, he will delete it before he gets home.

Tonight, he cooks at the stove. He doesn’t realize he’s made any mistakes until, holding two plates, he thinks of something Booker said at work and turns, ready to share. There are two chairs at Nicky’s table. Both are empty. Nicky looks at his hands, and cursing, leaves one plate on the counter and takes the other into the living room. He sits on the couch, plate on his lap, and turns up the sound on the tv until he forgets that he’s forgotten.

The next morning, on his way to work, he sees a selection of sketchpads in an art store window. He buys one, and a set of charcoals. He carries the bag proudly until he gets to the office, to the cubicle he shares with Booker, and realizes with a deep sigh and heavy frown that he does not draw.

Booker looks at the bag, then at him. He lifts one lone brow. “You start taking art classes?”

Groaning, Nicky throws the bag under the desk and collapses into the chair. Whatever this is, it’s getting worse. What started as tri-monthly slip-ups are turning into daily routines. “Maybe I should see a doctor,” Nicky says.

“Maybe.” Booker scratches his chin. Behind him, on his computer screen, a game of solitaire is opened over the report he is supposed to be writing. “Or it could just be what it obviously is.”

“Don’t start.”

“Soulmates, Nicky,” Booker says.

Nicky rolls his eyes. “Be serious.”

Booker swivels his chair the whole way toward Nicky and leans forward. “I am serious.” He’s not smirking. That is his serious face.

But soulmates?

“I’d have better odds at the lottery,” Nicky says. He’s seen thousands of soulbonds... in movies. To find one in real life is a one in a billion chance. More, perhaps. Nicky is just a regular guy with a bachelor’s degree in philosophy he doesn’t use, a desk job that he hates, and a caffeine addiction. Normal. Boring. Not near special enough to catch the attention of another person’s soul.

“Maybe you should play the numbers, then.” Booker twists his chair back toward his desk.

“Soulmates,” Nicky huffs. He shucks off his coat and starts his computer. “Ridiculous.”

*

Across town, Joe has purchased two coffees, one much too bitter for him. When he realizes, he’s so excited, he nearly drops them both. He stops on the street, places both coffees on the ledge of a windowsill, and opens his phone.

“Nile,” he says before she even finishes saying, “Hello?”

“It happened again.” Joe can’t stop laughing. “That makes everyday this week!”

“That’s great, Joe.”

“Do you think I’ll meet him soon?” Joe bounces on his feet. “If it’s happening everyday, then surely -”

“Maybe? I mean, who knows? There’s not a lot of concrete info on this stuff,” Nile says. There’s a yawn in her voice. He woke her - again. They go to the same college - Nile for the first time, Joe for the second - but their shared classes aren’t until the afternoon. He feels a little bad about it now. It dampens his spirits somewhat. “Except movies, but who knows if those are right.”

Joe tries to reel in his excitement. “Right. Of course.”

Nile must be able to tell, because she immediately perks, brightening her voice. “But, Joe. If it takes a little time, it will be worth it, right? He’s out there. You just have to find him.”

“Thank you, Nile.” Joe’s smile presses his cheek tightly to his phone. “I am sorry I woke you.”

“Swing by, bring me that coffee, and we’ll call it even.”

“I promise.” Joe hangs up.

He thinks of the groceries that stock his cabinets at home. More pasta than he’s ever needed before.

He thinks of the book of Roman philosophers that he purchased that now sits on his coffee table, waiting.

He smiles at a family of ducklings he sees by a pond, and turns, ready to tell the person beside him. No one is there.

Yet.

“Soulmates,” Joe tells the ducks. “Amazing.”

*

The following day, it’s raining when Nicky leaves the office. He doesn’t have an umbrella, so with a lengthy sigh, he hunches his shoulders and presses forward. The rain is cold on the back of his neck and he shivers. But once you are wet, you can’t be more wet, so there is some comfort in that.

He makes it to the bus stop and sneezes.

“Bless you,” says the man already there, standing beside the soaked bench. He has a blue umbrella open, hiding his face, and another, this one green, closed, tucked under his arm.

“Grazie,” Nicky says and wipes his nose with his sleeve. It’s damp, but so is everything.

The blue umbrella shifts up a little. Nicky looks the other way, down the street, for the bus. Something nudges him in the side. He looks, and it’s the handle of the spare, green umbrella.

“May I tell you a story,” the man offering it says. Nicky looks up into a pair of warm brown eyes and with a wide, welcoming smile. Soft-looking curls cover his head, and a well-groomed beard rounds his face. He’s wearing a leather jacket with a t-shirt underneath. Paint splotches cover both, in a rainbow of colors.

Nicky, stunned by this man’s beauty, can only nod. The man moves the umbrella, poking him again, and Nicky takes it. He doesn’t open it, though, he can’t get his hands to cooperate.

“I saw the weather report this morning,” the man says, voice so bright and happy, it warms Nicky up from the inside out. “And I grabbed two umbrellas before I left the house. Two. I didn’t even think about it until I walked into the studio and my friend noticed.”

He’s looking at Nicky and Nicky should say something. He tries, “That’s interesting.”

The man looks at the umbrella in Nicky’s hands, at the way he’s clutching it and not opening it. He takes a step closer, so that his open blue umbrella covers them both.

This close, Nicky can only see freckles.

“I have a question to ask,” the man says, “and I really hope the answer is yes.”

Nicky swallows hard. He nods.

“Do you like bitter coffee, pasta, and philosophy?”

Nicky’s breath catches in his throat. It cannot be possible, but... if it is. And if it is this man... Nicky’s heart leaps out of his chest with hope.

He clears his throat, he must find words now. “Do you...” Nicky stops and tries again. “Are you an artist, do you like things too sweet, and do you notice the ducklings?”

If Nicky thought this man’s smile was bright before, he was mistaken. For now, it is a beaming sun, pushing back all the gray.

“I love the ducklings,” the man says.

Any moment now, Nicky will awake, having fallen asleep at his desk, and Booker will mock him.

Instead, the voice in Nicky’s heart whispers, This one, and he knows.

The man reaches out a hand and places it on Nicky’s chest. Nicky must look like hell, drenched in rain, but this man stares at him with open reverence like he can see the moon in his eyes.

“Hello, my heart,” the man says. “I have been looking for you.”

Nicky’s having trouble with full sentences again, so he takes a step closer instead.

“My shared soul,” the man continues, speaking for them both now. He knows the words Nicky’s heart whispers. “My light. My warmth.”

He motions to himself, then. “Joe.”

Nicky does the same. “Nicky.”

“Nicky,” Joe repeats, and it takes all Nicky has not to melt into a puddle on the sidewalk, ready to be washed away with the rain.

“Joe,” Nicky says, and it’s sudden relief. The word he could never quite remember right there on the tip of his tongue. He says it again, loving the feel of it in his mouth. “Joe.”

It’s perfect. It’s everything.

Later, Nicky will cook the pasta in Joe’s cabinets, and Joe will sketch Nicky with the charcoal.

For now, Nicky places his hand over Joe’s on his chest and knows he’s home.

#i wrote something nickyjoe #joe x nicky #kaysonova #nicky x joe #soulmate au #modern au #artist joe #finding each other :) #two halves of a whole #fluff #this is really only fluff lol #booker is here and so is nile

[vidalinav]

Nessian Week Day 2: Gifts

Summary: Nesta finds the present Cassian threw in the Sidra. 

Look I can only write prompts in Cassian’s POV for some reason and he’s always a simp. I can’t make him less of a simp. I think I’m projecting my own love for Nesta Archeron, but it is what it is.

~

Cassian’s sitting in the living room, and the windows are open as well as the doors, and Nesta chooses to be outside. She wants fresh air, she says. It’s a beautiful day and Cassian can’t blame her, but he tries not to grumble in her absence. He’s stuck inside, waiting on Rhys who conveniently forgets they have a meeting today. 

It seems, Rhys would rather be with someone else... and Cassian would rather be with her. He jostles his leg impatiently, sighing every few minutes, thinking of all the ways he could be spending his time. 

At least, they’re going to a new restaurant in the city after. Cassian can’t wait and he looks to the clock as if his glare might make it tick faster. 

He’s sure after the restaurant, they’ll inevitably find themselves in bookshops. Cassian smiles at the thought. It seems they have a routine. 

One after another, they’ll peruse until he’s carrying a tower of romances. Nesta will make a game of it, he’s sure. How many can he carry before he drops them or she can’t reach the top even as he leans down? How many can she get away with before he starts complaining that his arms hurt? 

Cassian will do no such thing. Nesta should have as many books as she wants. Mother knows they have a house big enough for three hundred libraries. They can stand to have three hundred more. It will feel like three hundred books anyway, but Cassian won’t say a word. In fact, he’ll tell her she forgot to look in this aisle and jut his chin to the colorful bindings and some title that’s laughingly  scandalizing. 

Nesta will feel guilty about it later that evening though, as she always does, and so she’ll smile fondly. Gift it to him. That small, tilt of her lips, the mirth reaching her eyes. For holding all those books. Nesta will hold him closer too, because when she’s happy, she stops thinking about the city lights and the people and the noise. She keeps looking to him, tucking her hand into his, leaning her head on his arm. They’ll listen to the music as they walk, and all of it will sound sweet, and soft, but really he’ll be too distracted by her. All of her. 

Cassian sighs. He’d rather be outside with Nesta--whatever she’s doing. Anywhere but here waiting for Rhys who’s taking his damn time. 

He hears the sound of footsteps and sends a thank you to the Mother. Finally. Cassian gets up thinking it’s Rhys. He might just punch his brother for taking so long. Where have you been? He’ll screech. 

But it’s Nesta who comes trampling through one of the sliding doors. 

Better option, he thinks, and he’s about to say so, but Cassian notices the light blue fabric, the lacy edges trailed in dirt. 

Her dress is caked in mud, the bottom drenched. She has a spot of dirt on her cheek, and Cassian brushes it off as she nears, as he pulls her close. Nesta pays no mind; she only grins. A big, happy expression that he’s already named. 

Nesta only smiles like that when she’s over the moon, when the sun seemingly sinks into her chest and wants to shine from her eyes, her cheeks, her lips. Sunset hues. Peaches and blush and bright skies. Cassian feels warm to his toes, and he smiles unconsciously for she brings out the sun. 

Nesta holds up a little box and Cassian eyes it curiously. 

“I found a book!” She explains, “It’s the smallest book I’ve ever seen.” 

Cassian looks to the box again not recognizing the color. He’s sure it can't be--

But it is. She opens the box, not torn at all, and inside lays a perfectly small book. Made my tiny, fairy hands. All the pages are intact, no water or mud in sight as if it’s never seen the Sidra at all. 

Cassian holds his breath, but Nesta grins so fondly, he feels his chest start to squeeze. 

“I was just walking along the river and I saw something on the side, and... I was curious,” She says sheepishly. 

Nesta never can keep her curiosity down, and it explains her dress coated in the banks of the Sidra. He half wants to chastise for not getting him to help her. She must have climbed all the way down and he could have flown. She could have gotten hurt or carried away by the rapid tide. It’s at least a good couple of feet... but he shakes away his worry as she holds up the gift. 

He just can’t believe it. 

“So I climbed down a bit and I dug out the box! It’s perfect, isn’t it? I’m surprised the water didn’t ruin it. It must have come in with the storm last week.” 

“Where do you think it came from?” He asks, because he doesn’t know what else to say as Nesta looks at the book, flipping through the pages carefully. “Does it belong to anyone, you think?” 

It’s yours, he wants to blurt. I got it for you. It was yours all along. Just like I was. 

But Cassian doesn’t say that, he can’t make words form... and he knows where it came from. He doesn’t know what the words mean, but he know who made it. What type of material it is. How many exist in the world? Not many, but one is in her hand when it had only ever met his pocket and the sea. 

It must be some work of fae magic. A blessing from the Mother who know Nesta deserves the world... or he deserves some peace. Whatever power calls forth the tide or preserves paper in a flimsy box, he’s grateful for it. For the way, Nesta smiles like that. 

Nesta holds up her chin as if she’ll fight any person who claims it’s theirs, who tries to take it from her. A ferocious sort of gleam in her eyes. “I don’t know... but it’s mine now. I’m the one who climbed down for it. I’m caked in mud.”

Cassian’s lips raise as he wraps his arms around her waist, “I think it was definitely meant to be yours.” 

“It feels like mine,” she says softly. Nesta looks at the tiny book. It’s purple cover a sheen of old leather, stamped with unrecognizable words. She clasps it to her chest like she’s trying to burrow it away in her heart. Somewhere precious and protected behind a ribcage and a will of iron. 

All she loves is stored there. 

Cassian is there, too, he knows, because of that look she makes. That softness in her eyes, the sun in her smile. It’s reserved for him. For him and this tiny book. 

I’m yours, he thinks. 

Cassian grips her hand, pulling her towards the door. “Let’s see if we can go find a magnifying glass. Maybe we can try and read the words.” 

Nesta frowns, “I thought you had a meeting.” 

Cassian shakes his head, forgetting all about this room and Rhys and meetings. All that matters is her. “It’s not important,” he says. 

That joy, he thinks, is more important than anything. A blessing. A gift. He wonders how many times he can make her smile like that. 

Cassian doesn’t know, but he’s sure he’ll make a game of it. 

~

Tag List:

@arinbelle @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @nestaarcher0n @duskandstarlight @soitsgorgeous @swankii-art-teacher @lordof-bloodshed @thewhelk @daisy-in-danger @highqueenevankhell @lovelynesta @sirendeepity @champanheandluxxury @ladynestaarcheron @moodymelanist @teagoddess99 @spoilersteph @angelic-voice-1997 @bo0kmaster69 @drielecarla @generalnesta @cozycomfyliving08

~

The only reason I wrote this is because I was tagged on nessian week and therefore felt obligated to post something. Apparently you can get me to write anything if you give me the obligation. 

Bye! 

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessianweek2021 #nessianweek #nessian fanfiction #vidalinav writes #vidalinav fic #nessian week