#so much five pebbles tonight

[flickering-nightfall]

I get the feeling NSH used to have much more flexible antenna and then did something really dumb and they were rendered the way they are today

I've seen some people with the headcanon that he wrecked, cut or removed his antennae! I'm leaning on my NSH just being made that way though. There are other iterators with similarly short antennae, or even no antennae at all.

He doesn't seem to be all too bothered by it in the end. Especially when it leads to opportunities like this...

#so much five pebbles tonight #i headcanon that pebbs gesticulates a lot when he gets deep into a rant/conversation :) #rain world #five pebbles #no significant harassment #ask #anon #flickerdoodles #art

[kakyogay]

HA you thought I was only going to post ONE thing tonight well nooooo you are mistaken for I have yet ANOTHER gift for thou *grins evily*

air jail :[

he bit sig in a silly argument :[

#modernerators #rain world #five pebbles #seven red suns #rw sunstone #rain world shipping #ig can be taken as platonic but since I'm a full time sunstoner :) #mainly posting this tonight as well because I don't want to go to bed tonight #and I don't want to wait until after school for a chance at remembering to post it #like I love the doodle so much #I don't want to forgor about it :( #anwyasy implodes fr this time

[tarot-archives]

Wasted Summers— Laios Touden

Mermaid Au. Modern AU. this fic involves drowning.

i. fish out of water

Laios has to take a bike to the market. His house was far from the rest of the village so it was up to him for tonight's dinner. His dad wasn’t home yet while his mom was busy with housework. That leaves the responsibility to him, the eldest Touden son.

On the way, he saw someone or some animal flopping around the asphalt. Laios pulls on the brakes before he can make roadkill then his eyes widen. Despite its bare upper torso which would attract most few, the boy’s eyes land on the half-fish lower end of its body. Mermaids, beings once marveled as legends but had become a local attraction.

Despite its human half, mermaids are labelled as unintelligent creatures by most of scientific society. They lack means of communication, they have the intelligence of a five-year-old and have yet to show other uses than eye candy. Some exotic dealers trade them too. Perhaps as a meal or something far worse in the black market.

Laios picks up a stick and whips it in front of the mermaid, “Get out! Get back to the sea! Shoo!” And like other animals, it tries to get away from him. But it doesn’t return to the sea. Instead, the mermaid waddles itself up the road to the direction of the shrine on top of a mountain, much to Laios’ disappointment.

“I said go back!” Laios stomps in front to scare it off, yet the mermaid persists. The noise it makes as it tries to waddle is a bit cute. He notices that with each noise Laios makes it grumbles, like a reply. It’s similar to a barking dog but looking at it struggle makes it sad. Its human half makes it difficult for him to be scary.

“That’s not the sea” The blonde makes an X with his arms” That’s the shrine. Not your home, a Shrine.”

And from a single word, the mermaid looks at him excitedly, then points to the top. It takes Laios aback from its reaction. Does it understand?

Laios wets his lips, “Are you heading to the Shrine?”

The mermaid nods enthusiastically, making him excited. A mermaid understands his language. A mermaid understands his language.

They can communicate! So it was possible to talk to them. He had read so much about marine animals and his sister took an interest in mermaids before. There were activist groups promoting mermaids' rights, fighting for their independence, and protesting against hunting. He’s seen those people outside of supermarket stores handing out pamphlets for mermaid awareness.

“We should get you— oh right,” he scoops the mermaid up into his arms to clear themselves from any incoming traffic as he heads to the beach. “Let’s talk about it somewhere else.”

Laios abandons his grocery duties as he spends the rest of his day with the mermaid.

ii. a notebook and a handkerchief.

For the past few days, Laios has been by the beach to talk with his mermaid. It made him feel special that some amazing creature like that was friendly towards him. Sure there were reports about mermaids drowning people, but he was careful. These conversations—er uhm— data were discovered on the shoreline. Laios noted that the mermaid had a good memory. And if he wasn’t feeding it with half of his lunch. The mermaid still points towards the shrine.

“Do you have anyone you know?” Laios asks, but the mermaid tilts its head.

“Person? Shrine?” Laios Points to himself and then to the building. Still, the mermaid doesn’t have a new reaction.

“Shrine?” he points to the building, and the mermaid nods once more.

“go?”Laios dropped to the pebbled ground and imitated the waddling mermaid from yesterday.

He sits up and then points to it to, “You?”

Its eyes widen as if it understands then waddles away to swim back into the sea. Maybe it went back home. They don’t have the concept of saying goodbye, after all, he thinks.

Laios waited for a good minute or so before deciding to call it a day. However, as he was about to depart, he heard stones being turned at the shoreline. He looks back and is happy to see his mermaid but with a handkerchief in hand.

“La-os! La-os!” it waves the fabric around proudly.

iii. mermaids are not meant on land.

The following day, Laios takes his father’s wheelbarrow with him and a bucket. He filled it up, bucket by bucket with seawater as he intended to take the mermaid through it. But of course, his mermaid was a curious one. Laios didn’t have to persuade it to come closer and had accepted to be whisked once more in his arms. It sits there snuggly, lucky for him it didn’t thrash around.

It simply points up to its awaited place, “Sha-rine?”

“Yes, Shrine,” Laios lifts the wheelbarrow and rolls upwards to the mountain. It was a cloudy day perfect for a walk and they took breaks here and there. He made sure it stays moist by taking the water from the wheelbarrow and pouring it over its head. When it started to splash around to play, Laios had to scold it to stop. And he noticed that in this journey, the mermaid likes to be held. It kept on pulling his hand over its head for head pats. Laios wanted to indulge in it too, it’s a bonding activity that heightens trust, but maybe for another day.

After an exhausting attempt, Laios has succeeded in bringing it up to the shrine. It splashes around clearly excited to break free.

“Wait, hold on, let me- argh!” The wheelbarrow leans to the side, making the mermaid fall. He urgently went by its side to check for any injuries, and luckily there was none. Laios presses both his palms into her, “Stay. Here.” But as soon as he tries to leave, it waddles again.

“La-os!” it wiggles around. It was displeased with the new terrain. “La-os. mhmm, Sha-rine. Kership.”

Laios tried his best to keep it calm but it was too exciting.

“Who is there?” A voice asks. The loud noise alerted the groundskeeper and he stared at both Laios and the mermaid. The blond noticed the way the groundskeeper gripped his broom upon seeing the mermaid.

In an instant, he shields it, “Wait, don’t be alarmed!”

“Kid, get out of the way,” the groundskeeper raised his weapon, ready to strike. “You have a dangerous animal behind you!”

He doesn’t budge, “Please Listen, it’s harmless!” Laios tries his best to seem friendly. It was a common understanding that churches deemed mermaids as devils luring sailors to death. But that was a stereotype made in bad faith against women.

“Harmless?” The groundskeeper was disgusted at the notion. “That animal attacked me! Don’t be fooled boy. they might appear kind, but they’re just lowering your guard waiting to attack.”

“But it made it all this way to give something,” Laios grabs the broom the throws it to the side. “I know that they’re just no better than animals, but this one is smart. It wants to return something.”

“Get out!” the groundskeeper pushed Laios making him land on his butt. The mermaid rushes to Laios side seeing he was attacked. The mermaid hisses and curl its fingers as if to strike against the offender. But Laios pulled it back, its skin against his chest to make sure it didn’t retaliate.

In the end, he decided to leave the shrine and head back to the sea.

iv. humans are not meant for the sea.

Laios sits by the shoreline with his mermaid friend by his side. He was discouraged by how the groundskeeper reacted. Maybe it was because he was old, acting his mindset from his generation. Younger people like him were more understanding after all (more or less). Mermaids were not like the creatures most people played them out to be.

They were like sharks. Their identities were muddled by years of propaganda against them. Though mermaids were quite new, they still didn’t escape the lies and stereotypes held against them. Here he is, waiting as the golden sun sets before he heads home. Laios likes how the light bounces off its scales in an ethereal glow. Ever since earlier when he had given her head pats, it was now eager to receive more as it nuzzled his side if he stopped.

“you’re not like them are you?” Laios sighed, today was an unfulfilling day. “you’re not like the humans with their biassed judgement.”

The mermaid doesn’t understand, it simply nudges its head against his palm.

“I wish I wasn’t human,” he lets out this foolish idea. Laios had always wanted to be something else. Perhaps, his reasons for helping the mermaid weren’t as altruistic as he thinks. After a moment, the mermaid stops in its movements. “hmm? what’s wrong?”

“La-os!” it cups his cheeks in his palms making Laios fluster. He couldn’t speak, unsure of what to interpret its actions into human behaviors. But its interest changes and it's back down again playing with the bucket he brought. But Laios looks away feeling embarrassed.

All of a sudden, a blunt force hit the top of his head, his vision was blocked, and then he felt talon sharp fingers digging into his skin as something dragged him to the sea. His heart was racing, and by the time he had removed the bucket from his head, more than half of his body was in water.

Laios claws at the grounds of the shoreface. He kicked and thrashed to break free from whatever was grabbing him, but it was a gruelling fight. This creature was strong in the water. Land dwellers like him don’t belong here.

His body needs air. Water enters his lungs as Laios struggles to escape. And with one successful hit, he had managed to escape and limp far away from the shoreline, coughing out the seawater from his chest.

He looks around to search for his mermaid, making sure that it is out of harm's way. He didn’t want the creature that tried to drown him to hurt it too. But with his friend out of the foreshore, Laios gawks at the familiar sets of eyes on the water.

It can’t be, His mermaid couldn’t have drowned him, right?

“Laios?” it tilts its head, not understanding it did something wrong. “Bakit?”

“What? Bucket?” he searched for it on the ground, but it was nowhere to be found. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s too terrified to act after that attempt that almost kill him. Maybe the groundskeeper was right. Mermaids are animals waiting for the moment to attack.

Drenched, Laios takes the wheelbarrow home. He doesn’t return for a while.

v. things to find out

In his journal, he wrote: in the same way as I brought her to the shrine on the wheelbarrow, did it mimic by using the bucket to scoop some air for me to breath in? did it try to show me its home? did it understand when I said I wished I wasn’t human? could joining it make me like it?

AN: It’s mermay! yey my first piece for this prompt. This fic was inspired by Ryoko Kui’s work titled Ryuu No Kawaii Nanatsu No Ko. It’s the second chapter, mermaid sanctuary. It’s a good read if you like dungeon meshi. it makes you understand ryoko ryu’s story telling which enhances the DMeshi experience tbh.

#laios touden x reader #laios x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #torta talks

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

TW: NSFW, dubcon if you squint

You are laying in bed, not sleeping, feeling sorry for yourself when your phone rings on your bedside table. You don’t recognize the number, so you answer with a cautious, “Hello?” 

“Hi, pretty girl.”

You pause a long beat, and not because you don’t recognize the voice on the other end. “How the ever-loving fuck did you get this number?”

It’s Officer Tom Ludlow, of course. Just what you need, on this night from Hell.

“I’m a detective, remember?” You can just hear the self-satisfied smirk, and he’s lucky he’s not standing in front of you, because tonight you just might have slapped him.

You use your moderately adequate brain for some deductive reasoning of your own, and realize, “You took my number from Julian’s phone. After you assaulted him.”

On the other end he lets out a long whistle. “Baby, that’s such a strong word.”

“Do not call me baby.”

“Alright. Sweetheart.”

“God, you are such a fucking caveman.”

“Thank you.”

You sigh, too fucking tired for this shit. Your heart feels like a chewed up piece of gum, and your lady parts are pulsing angrily at you for ruining their evening earlier.

They like the sound of Tom’s deep voice in your ear, and that is so not good.

“You okay?”

The question actually takes you aback, because the smarmy shit-eating tone is gone, and he sounds…serious?

“I guess. Why?”

“That doesn’t sound okay.”

“Why do you think it’s any of your goddamned business?”

“I told you. If Dr. Bitch hurts you, it is my business.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” you grumble. In fact, he didn’t really do much of anything to you. Now that more time has passed, the more annoyed you are about that.

Fuck if Detective Ludlow doesn’t seem to hear that in your voice too. “Ohhhh. Sounds like the Good Doctor didn’t hit anything?” 

“Oh my god. I hate you. Do you know that?”

He gives a low chuckle that absolutely goes straight to your deprived pussy, and you squirm a little in bed, so grateful he can’t see you.

“You wish you hated me.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Don’t hang up, pretty girl. Tell me what you’re wearing.” His voice dips low, and smooth as velvet.

Every hair on your body lifts in response to this, your nipples pebbling into painful points. Bastard.

“A parka.”

“Pshh. You sleep in a parka? Come on, baby.” How effective that soft, coaxing tone is at dissolving your inhibitions is alarming. You can almost see yourself, as though standing at the edge of a great abyss. If you jump…there will be no going back. 

“Fine. I’ll use my own imagination. I think you’re wearing…a cute little lacy negligee that just floats on your luscious curves…”

Well, you guess you’re getting a picture of what he likes.

“Jesus Christ. I’m wearing a tank top, you pervert,” you grouse, trying to shatter his fantasy. Nevermind the fact that you are now soaking wet, again.

“Nice. No panties?”

“I am wearing panties.”

“You aren’t going to need ‘em. Do you know what I’d do to you, after dinner, my beautiful nurse?”

“Gee, I bet you’re going to fucking tell me.”

“Oh come on. We’re having fun.”

“You are having fun.”

“But you’re still listening.”

Well, he has you there, the smug sonofabitch.

“Maybe.”

He chuckles at the other end of the line, a low sound that makes you clench with need.

“You’ve got to answer a question for me first.”

“What?”

“You’ve got to dip into that sweet little pussy for me, and tell me how wet you are on the scale from one to ten.” 

You should rip him a new one for this. Or just hang up. Why can’t you just hit the button and end this nonsense? But then…you’d be alone. Your real-time reaction is less dignified, but maybe more honest. 

You laugh.

It starts as a giggle, then crescendos into an all out guffaw. “Tom…you are a nut.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers, and goddamn if you don’t actually start to feel better. “Oh come on baby, don’t hold out on me. I’ve got a solid ten inches in my hand for you here.”

This makes you laugh even harder. “Ten inches?!”

“Ok. Maybe nine and a half.” 

You giggle, and you can’t stop. “I don’t know if I can handle all that, Officer Ludlow.”

You don’t know how his voice lowers even more, as he says, “Oh, I know you can take it. Don’t worry, I’ll ease it in nice and slow.”

Suddenly the bubbles of laughter in your gut go flat, replaced with an aching heat that sears your insides, your clit throbbing in response to his dirty mouth. It’s possible a kittenish little sound squeaks from the back of your throat.

You really don’t know where you get the courage to ask softly, “Yeah? Then what?”

“Then I would kiss all over those pretty, soft titties. I want those perfect nips in my mouth.”

You know you make a sound then, and he surely hears it. “Will you check them for me? Lick your fingers and give them a pinch.”

“You are ridiculous.” It comes out small, and breathy, and it doesn’t really sound like an insult at all. So what, if you do as he tells you? And so fucking what, if imaging it’s his hands on you makes you feverish with desire, a spear of longing throbbing in your cunt.

He doesn’t answer you right away, which means he’s busy with something else. Maybe Tom is just as pent up as you are from all this edging the two of you have been putting each other through. 

“Are you.. are you really?” You ask, hating how your voice exposes the fact that you’re not only pinching your nipples, but borderline feeling yourself up at the sound of his hiking breath. 

“Yeah, honey, I am.”

“Oh,” you say, because it’s the only thing you can think of. Your cunt is screaming below about how she wants to talk to Tom Ludlow because you’re doing a shit job at it. 

“Ah, fuck. Are you doing what I told you?” 

“No.”

“Good. Lick your fingers again, circle those pretty nipples for me. Close your eyes and imagine it’s my tongue. Fuck, I wanna suck on your tits so bad.” 

He doesn’t have to know that you’re following orders. That you’re grinding on the bunched blanket between your legs while you imagine his big, rude hands playing with your tits instead of your own.

“You listening to me, beautiful girl?”

“Yeah. Don’t get a big head about it.” 

“Good job. And too late.” 

“I do hate you, you know. I’m serious.” It has no real venom; in fact, it sounds more like a term of endearment at this point. 

He laughs. “C’mon, tell me how soaked she is.”

She’s flooded, is the answer. She’s dampening the pressed comforter, she’s throbbing and screaming and crying and pulsing to the tempo of his black coffee voice. 

You’re not much for vocals when you get off. You have neighbors that already have to hear about your dreams, and the act itself seems like more business than pleasure sometimes. When you were younger, you shared a room with your two sisters, so you learned to be quiet and discreet about rubbing your pussy. That all flies out the window when you sink two fingers into your sopping cunt at Tom’s direction. 

“10,” you hiss, straining to hit your gspot. Maybe you really do need to invest in one of those toys Sheila is always elbowing you about.

“Oh, poor baby.” Your walls flutter violently at his mocking tone. 

“I thought you were going to tell me what you would do to me after dinner?” Maybe you’re desperate, or just stupid. It doesn’t really matter when all you want is to orgasm on Tom’s voice.

“Thought I was? Didn’t I tell you about how I’m gonna dip into that sweet wet pussy, and play with your little clit with my thumb while I fuck you with this big cock? How do you like it, honey? Slow and deep? Fast and hard?”

You make a strangled little sound–because your fingers are just not enough, and it hurts. It hurts that he’s not here with you, filling you up, holding you down with those calloused hands and that filthy, insatiable, mouth.

“What was that?” 

His voice is strained, and you think you’re not the only one in pain here.

“Slow,” you answer. “At first.” Why exactly are you handing him this ammunition? How stupid, how dangerous, to offer up the keys to your undoing? You know he will only use this information against you.

“Mmm.” His breathing is labored, and the thought of him with his cock out, stroking himself to this dirty talk is almost too much to stand. Julian had you trussed and at his mercy right in front of him, but couldn’t keep it up. All Tom Ludlow needs is the sound of your voice. After the night you’ve had, that alone is nearly enough to make you cum.

“But then I like it deep,” you pant. “You think you got what it takes?”

“Baby, I’ve got everything you need.”

You are trying to be as quiet as you can, while you abuse your clit with your two middle fingers, practically holding your breath, getting high on the oxygen deprivation. You’re too quiet, you suppose.

“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Gotta let me hear it when you cum for me.”

“Or what?” you grouse. “Maybe I’m just…mixing pancake batter.” 

His laughter is strained, and you just know he’s close. “Or you’ll regret it, sweet girl. When I finally get these hands on you? Mmm I’ll make you pay. I’ll make you cum without mercy.” 

Again, you can’t help but compare the versions of punishment to the men in your life. Julian wants to hurt you. Tom just wants to make you cum.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah? You there, baby?”

You try to just breathe through your nose, to not give him the satisfaction–but you fail spectacularly.

“Y/n?” He calls, singing your name and making it sound so pretty and good and special. 

“Y-yeah?”

“You coming with me? I’m waiting for you.”

You’re right there, dangling over that sweet, slippery precipice that you can usually ease yourself over carefully. Tom gives you a little shove, and you’re plummeting. 

“That’s my girl.” He doesn’t sound much better off than you while you sob from the unexpected, haywire orgasm. 

It takes a long minute for you to come back to earth, come back to breathless Tom who isn’t saying anything for once in his life. 

That pleasant, floaty post coital bliss gets stained with shame when the clarity of who you just mutually masturbated with hits you. 

He talks first, what a surprise. “Do you feel better?”

“No.” But then, “a little bit.”

“At least one of us does.” You hear him shuffling around on the other end, maybe opening a fridge. It makes you smile to think of him jerking off at his kitchen table. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Why in God’s name are you still entertaining this conversation? You both got what you wanted, and if you stay here too long listening to his voice you’re going to be right back where you started—ready for round two. 

“I won’t feel better until you’re mine.” He sounds humorless, which worries you in itself even without the possessive words added. “C’mon, sweet nurse, aren’t you supposed to help me feel better?”  

“I don’t belong to anyone, Tom. I never will.”

“Oh? Bullshit.” 

“I’m hanging up.” 

Almost as if he knows you’re full of it, or maybe he just doesn’t care about talking into an empty phone line, he continues. “You’re telling me you’ve never wanted a man to take care of you? Protect you, defend you, fuck anyone up who even thinks to raise a hand or word against you?”

Honestly? That’s all you’ve ever wanted, although you’ll take that admittance to your grave. After a lifetime of taking care of other people, having someone to do that for you in return sounds like a castle in the sky. But, the thing about castles in skies? They’re imaginary. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Let me guess, you’d do all that and more?” Maybe the venomous sarcasm is a little too mean. 

He sighs as if you’re the one assaulting his date, stealing his number, and then calling to harass and annoy him. “Okay, tough girl. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“No you won’t.” 

“Mm. Night, beautiful.” 

You wait for him to hang up. He doesn’t. You don’t, either. You feel his grin blossoming through the white noise of the line, listen to him rustle about, hear bottles clinking, water running, fabric swishing. Your eyes get heavy to the sounds of his nightly routine, lashes threatening to touch cheek. 

His voice is void of its usual gruff when it permeates the pleasant, strange, foggy land between awake and unconscious. “Baby?”

“Mm, yeah?” You try to make your mouth move properly, but the words come jumbled and slurred, weighted with exhaustion. 

“Sweet dreams.” 

#tom ludlow x reader #tom ludlow #street kings #tom Ludlow fic

[anukulee]

Dear Pebble (Jonathan Pine Letter)

Dearest @liminalpebble,

Is there anything I might be able to do for you, given the nature of our intimacy as of last night? For I have not sought comfort in one such as ravishing as you in quite some time, not since Jed, and before her Sophie. Many women in the past have taken issue with my work, given my late hours. Even more so if they hear of the scars that have haunted my past, yet still you listened. You actively took part in talking, and you allowed me to come out on my own time. In return, I listened to you, as with each word you spun I was amazed how one as ravishing could be plagued with such problems. Alas, I have learned some of the most beautiful women seem to have far too much misfortune fall upon them. Through I intend to make up for it, if you shall allow me. First I will go down upon you just as I did last night. Yet rather than run against you as you wish, I shall truly bring you pleasure like never before. Each lick of my tongue brings you to the cusp of coming, as your moans link throughout our room. My hands grasped your beautiful breast, for as Weasley said, "There is a shortage of perfect breasts in this world, could be a pity to damage yours." For your past lovers have failed in the task in bringing you pleasure, for that shall change tonight, and every night after. So how about it, will you allow me to be the only one ;)?

Signed,

Jonathan Pine (Your Night Manager)

@mochie85 @michelleleewise @aesonmae @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lady-rose-moon @lokisbirdofhermes @lokisprettygirl @lokischambermaid @smolvenger @the--sad--hatter @wheredafandomat @peacefulpianist @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @immyowndefender @november-rayne @five-miles-over @xorpsbane @skymoonandstardust @lotsoflokilove23 @simplyholl

@ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @gigglingtiggerv2

#jonathan pine #the night manager #tomhiddleston #tom hiddlestone #Jonathan tom hiddleston #friendly letters #tagging mutuals. #lovely mutuals #song included #first time writing Jonathan #ignoring canon #youtube #Youtube #present #get help #so yeah #help liminal pebble

[charlottan]

hiiii i would really love to get more into shoegaze and early dreampop as i am over here blissed out on eternal fave cocteau twins! i would love recommendations on albums to check out if you're up for providing!

absolutely grin 😁 my favorites these days are of course The glow by Gold celeste and Ceres and calypso in the deep time but as far as others i love My electric fantasy which is kind of a stoner metal shoegaze fusion album. and Death spells by Holy fawn thats another metalgaze sort of thing but its really dreamy. Flying saucer attack self titled but that might be a more popular band that you might already know. anyway. A fusion of two hemispheres by Sphere. Five pebbles Forgetmenot. 光のカケラ by Walrus. also Pop by Carousels!!!! aaaand So tonight that i might see by Mazzy star is great. and i think thats enough i wont overwhelm too much^-^

#thanks for askingggggggggg shoegaze and dreampop my girlfriends #asks

[tomurasurinal]

Scared Yet?

Ghost AU! Tendou Satori x Fem!Reader

- Pairing: Tendou Satori x Fem! Reader

- Genre: Angst, Romance

-WC: 3,788

-Warnings: Depression Mention, Bullying Mention, Suicide Mention 

-Summary: Your grandmother passes and you inherit her old house with an unknown occupant!

Thank you for reading <3 

 ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

The floorboard groans with every step she takes, the room is suffocating and dry. She hasn't been here in years and while the house is an eyesore to most it feels like home to her. The warm stale air feels welcoming. Making her rounds through the house she brainstorms ideas for where she wants her furniture and which room to make her own. She uses each trip to the moving truck as an excuse to admire the exterior a little more.

The house is massive. Tall and wide with so many windows, so much history in its chipping plum paint withered away with the years. The stained glass windows with hand-carved mahogany compliment them perfectly. Busy with her daydreaming she falls up a step and the box in her arm flies across the threshold. The dull pain in her leg is nothing compared to the fear she's feeling about the box. ‘Don’t be glass. Don’t be glass, oh geez.’ Turning the box over carefully so the label faces upward she sighs in relief at the word, ‘Books’ scribbled in her childish messy handwriting.

'Stupid fucking steps, stupid big house. This place is way too fucking big, who even needs five bedrooms?'

She kicks a pebble out of her way in annoyance, walks to her car to grab her last box, and lugs it upstairs to the biggest room. This room belonged to her grandma before she passed and left the house. Light is desperately trying to stream through the dirty curtains. She opens them and takes a look into the sad garden in need of some major TLC. A man with tired eyes and wild red hair looks her way, he winks and smiles at her. His smile is unnerving but almost welcoming. She rubs her eyes and the man is gone.

“Ghost? No way, I need a nap if I’m imagining strange men. But very weird. nonetheless.”, she murmurs to herself ripping the muddied white sheets off the rest of the furniture. She uncovers a huge full-length mirror. Taking the time to admire her appearance she drags a dirty little hand down her face, “I’m so exhausted. All I need to do is unpack this plushie box for tonight, I think the furniture can wait for tomorrow.” She stretches her arms up and leans back letting her back pop and crack in the most delicious ways. She mewls in delight and smiles softly to herself. She wipes the smeared mascara from under her eyes and fluffs her hair.

“What a great day to wear black!” she giggles to herself knowing damn well she cycles through the same handful of dark garments religiously. She dusts herself off smacking her tattered black shorts and her sun-bleached black shirt with some old emo band name scrawled across the chest.

She unpacks the stuffed animals from their box and arranges them in their new home in a net slung across a corner of the room. It's starting to feel like her room instead of grandmas. She changes all the crusty bed sheets and blankets and replaces them with her own. New black sheets and a soft plush comforter beckon her to indulge in a nap. She plucks a plushie off the hammock and crawls into bed, letting sleep wash over her immediately.

A tall dark figure watches her from the door. ‘Cute little thing.’ he thinks to himself, ‘I wonder if I can have some fun with her and properly introduce myself.’

He waltz’s into the room with so much excitement, hovering over her while he takes his time admiring her features. She looks so peaceful with her hair matted from sleeping so hard along with the dried drool connecting her chubby cheek to the pillow. He wants to touch her soft-looking skin so bad but he knows he wouldn’t be able to feel it properly nothing feels the same since being dead. He uses her vulnerable state as a gateway to her dreams. He lays beside her in her oversized bed and takes a deep breath. Exhaling and opening his eyes he’s in a retro arcade he frequented when he was alive. He can see the girl from earlier going hard at a game he’s familiar with. As he walks up behind her he can hear her muttering curse words to herself as she plays. The screen flashes “GAME OVER” in bold lettering letting her know she’s lost. She punches in a three-letter phase claiming her number two score on the leader boards.

“That was an intense game you almost had the number one spot.” he smiles a catlike grin at her and she groans.

“I’ve been at it all night! I can't beat this ‘RED’! I’m so tired of it he’s number one in most of these machines.” She pouts and crosses her cute little arms across her chest.

“You’ll beat me one day I believe in ya.” He reassures her as he pats her head like a child. She swats him away and looks at him in disbelief. “No fucking way. You can’t be RED!” She looks like she’s going to rip her hair out in frustration.

“In the flesh! But let’s get you some fresh air. Too beautiful to be locked up in a stinky arcade, I fear.” in a flash, he links arms with her and drags her out of the arcade's double doors. He takes note of the faint blush forming on her face from the compliment.

As they step outside they are thrown into another scenery. Whipping her head around in disbelief that she’s not in the arcade anymore the girl looks at her red-headed companion. She can see his face properly now. He’s cute. Very cute even. She liked how he looked mischievous and how his ruby eyes looked so tired. His hair stands tall and untamed. It was a similar shade of red to his eyes. He stood tall compared to her small chubby frame making her feel so small. She was not subtle at all with how she was gawking at him.

“You good there? If you stare at me any harder I think I'll explode!”, he holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“What’s your name? And where did you take me?”, she pokes his boney side with every word she asks. “I’m Tendou. Tendou Satori.” The smile he beams her way makes her smile in return, “This is my favorite place by the way. I always come here when I want to get away.”

She finally takes this as an opportunity to take in her surroundings. All around them are beautiful wisteria trees shining purple in all directions as they’re standing on top of a grassy hill. The ground is littered with wildflowers with a path leading to a small lake. The sun is just about to set as Tendou sets up a blanket for them to sit on.

“Tell me about yourself. I’m curious about you.”, he says quietly in her direction after laying on the blanket and propping himself on his elbows. He doesn’t look at her while waiting for her answer. He stares at the sky watching the sunset trying to take in every moment of it while he can.

She admires how at peace he looks, she starts explaining, “ Well I’m Y/n L/n. Life has been weird for me lately. I used to have a clear picture of what I wanted to do with my life but since my grandma died I don't know what makes me happy. Everything I did was to make her proud. Without her here I feel so alone. My family has never been close but she was always consistently supportive. I would come to her house during my school breaks and I’d help her manage her huge house. It was never a boring day with her.” She looks over to Tendou to see if he’s fallen asleep but once she looks over he has turned on his side facing her giving her his full attention. He cradles his head in one hand while hanging on your every word. She can feel her face grow hot at seeing him focus on her. Taking a deep breath she continues,” My town isn't anything special either. Everyone knows everyone. I never had many friends from town either. I was pretty much an outcast. I spent most of my time creating friends online and trying to get far away to escape. That’s why I came to my grandma’s house so much. To be around her and get far away from home. My parents didn't mind they were supportive, they just wanted me to be happy.” She offers him a small smile while stretching her arms above her head awkwardly. Apologizing to him she explains,” I’m sorry for ranting I know it’s a lot. Something about you just makes me want to open up. I’m not used to it. Please tell me about yourself and save me from this ranting hell.”

He gives her a hearty laugh and reassures her, “No, no. You’re good I asked for it and you delivered. I am delighted to hear about every little detail about you. Life was hard growing up. Same as you. Social outcast or a loner. All of it. I was good at sports though so there was that. The bullying continued though. It made wanting to live more complicated. I always wanted to work with food. Like desserts! I never pursued it but it was always my dream. I gave up after I graduated high school. I’ve been floating through life since then.” He feels himself stiffen at that last part. Hoping she doesn’t think he’s some suicidal loser. Or worse, a ghost. He isn’t ready to reveal that part to her yet. He can’t risk her being scared.

What he didn’t expect was for her to look at him with the sweetest sad face he’s ever seen. Before he could react she lept towards him and wrapped her arms around his thin frame. He can tell she’s crying by how damp his shirt is feeling as she holds him. Finally, she speaks to him in a croak, “Don’t ever stop living Tendou. You're worth more than you think. I’ll do whatever it takes to convince you otherwise! I want you to live all your dreams! I hope one day I can come to visit you somewhere magnificent, maybe Paris. You’ll have your dessert shop and I’ll visit you every day after work. We’ll be the perfect duo and we’ll never be alone. I promise!” She exclaims the last part moving her body to offer Tendou her pinky. She’s going to make him Pinky promise. He can’t hide the huge grin growing on his face. She knocks him hard in the chest,” I’m serious Tendou! Promise or I’ll go walk myself into that lake.”

“Fine Y/n, I promise. But you have to try all my experiments. Even if they’re gross.” He explains mischievously.

“That’s okay with me because it means free sweets.” She teases and sticks her tongue out at him with that he grabs her and forces her to lay back in the grass with him.

She is so comfortable that she eventually falls asleep. Tendou can feel her weight relax on him. Looking at her sleeping face he moves a strand of hair off of her face and tucks it behind her ear. She acts like a weighted blanket and lulls him to sleep as well. When he awakes he’s back in her room. He can see dawn light creep its way through her curtains. He knows once she wakes up he’ll have to come clean about everything and he doesn’t know if he’s ready for it. His body feels weak from staying in her dream for so long and directing what happened in it, he’s going to have to recharge most of the day. He makes his way to the door and phases right through it so he doesn’t wake her.

Y/n wakes up abruptly. The first thing she notices is that she is back in her new room and not the plush meadow from earlier with Tendou. Grabbing her pillow she plans to try to go back to sleep. She doesn’t want to be awake right now but before she could attempt anything her phone blares at full blast alerting her of an incoming phone call. She scrunches her face and reluctantly answers the phone not even bothering to check the caller ID. Before she could say a greeting she is interrupted by a shrill voice, ”HELLOOOOO!! Finally, you pick up! I've been calling like crazy the last hour, I got the house to myself I want some bestie time, what's the scoop? How’s the old lady's spooky doll house? Any ghosties? BETTER YET, Any demons??? Ooooooh a handsome ghost, now that's my type. GO ONNNN SPEAK.” ah, of course, it was Minnie. She was her long-distance friend for the last couple of years. Usually, she calls on her morning drives to work to keep both of her company while she gets her morning started. Y/n explains her night with Tendou in detail everything from what she did to how he looked and how unfortunately it was just a dream because she woke up alone that morning in bed.

Minnie is quiet before she comments,” Huh, that's a really weird dream. Do you think he’s the figure from the garden? They sound eerily similar. Keep an eye on that shit, okay? Wear your evil eye bracelet I got you during my last trip to Mexico! Better yet do a cleanse, do you need $5 for eggs? I’ll Venmo you. I can’t have you dying on me because of a ghost or a demon, no matter how sexy and mysterious he sounds.” She’s trying to be light-hearted but y/n can hear her concern mixed in. Trying her best she tries to reassure her it was probably from inhaling dust, being exhausted, and reading fanfic.

Unbeknownst to her, Tendou is watching from the corner of her room. He hides in the shadows and watches her laugh and smile with her friend. She must have said something extra hilarious because she ends up snorting so hard she chokes. His stomach does a flip. He loves seeing her happy. He wants so bad to be the reason for her joy. Whispering to himself he lets out a soft curse to himself,” I’m going to fall so hard in love with her, and it’s going to suck major ass.”

Finishing up her call she makes herself lunch and enjoys it out in the garden. The weather is nice today. The sun warms her skin and the breeze keeps her cool. The birds are singing and butterflies are enjoying whatever is left of the flowers around her in the dying garden. All she can think about is how peaceful it is and how much Tendou would enjoy this. Her throat feels tight with sadness, she doesn’t want to cry right now. It’s time to finish her laundry to distract herself from the overbearing loneliness she’s feeling. She drags herself into the living room where she left her fresh clothes. She’s greeted by an immense shadowy figure with its back turned to her. She freezes before she can take another step. The shadow figure looks as if it's searching for something in the basket. Unable to move she can only watch in horror as the figure picks up articles of clothing. Each one it lifts is folded neatly and put aside on a cushion. Y/n is so confused. She thinks to herself, ‘Holy shit is it folding my clothes for me? I mean I don’t necessarily object to this but why would a demon help me?’, she tilts her head asking herself those questions. Before she starts to move from her spot she sees the figure lift one last piece of fabric. It was her favorite pair of period panties. It was a cotton pair that she had gotten years ago, the waistband is distorted and ripping. The cat on the butt is practically peeling along with whatever was left of the word ‘Meow” that had once complimented the cat's face.

Y/n is mortified. She bolts from her spot snatching her panties from the demon's hands. She starts screaming at the figure, “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? GIVE ME THAT SHIT, BASTARD.” Her face is red with embarrassment. She turns away from him quickly not even afraid of what she could be dealing with. Until she hears a voice yell back.

“I WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP I SWEAR! I DIDN’T MEAN TO LOOK LIKE A PERVERT.” Tendou explains while he is red as well matching her equally embarrassed face.

Y/n whips her head around. It couldn’t be him. Why would he be here, in her house? She looks at him with a confused face.

Tendou sighs, “I guess the jig is up, huh?” Well go on you must have a million questions swarming inside your beautiful head. So, let me have it.” He plops himself down on the antique couch but it makes no signs that he’s sitting down, almost like he’s weightless.

“Well for starters, why are you in my house and how did you get in here?” she probes him,” And were you the man in the garden yesterday?”, she is eager for the answers. She can see Tendou look away from her for a moment. Almost as if the gears in his head are shifting around to produce an explanation.

He won’t meet her eye as he talks. His heart would be beating in utter anxiety at this moment if he had one. He has to be honest. She deserves it. Taking a deep breath he answers her, “Remember when I told you I gave up after high school? Well, I meant it. I did give up. It was way before your grandma bought this place. The garden was my pride and joy at the time. I spent a lot of time there. Many days I’d sit there and just cry because I was so frustrated with how my life was. Until one day when my parents were away, I decided I had enough. I slit my wrists in the backyard surrounded by the beautiful flowers I spent hours tending to I watched as my blood flowed into the dirt and I felt safe dying encompassed by their company. I never crossed over though. I think it was all the hate I held in my heart, my unfinished dreams and aspirations too. Damned to walk the earth regretting what I had done.” Tendou’s face scrunches up with pain as he continues.” My parents came back from vacation eventually. I had been there for days before they came back, it was not a pretty sight. My mom fell to her knees and held my rotting body. My father stood behind her trying his best to stay strong and comfort her. I felt sick. I ruined their lives too, not just my own. They couldn’t stand living here after what I did, they tried for a while but it hurt them too much. They eventually sold this place and your grandma moved in not too long after. I shut myself away for a long time after that, I was bitter with the living and refused to spend time here. I laid in the shadows for years, dormant. Until one day I heard your Grandma passed. I regretted being a brat. I’m sure I could have helped that old lady with her everyday chores, but I was too selfish. I saw you in the window and I was excited once again to have company in this big lonely house. I didn’t want to make the same mistake. I wanted company. I’m tired of being alone.” Tendou finishes his story up and is wiping the tears off of his pale face. He slouches over and holds his head in his hands. He can’t face her, he feels disgusting, like a monster.

Y/n’s heart hurts. It all makes sense. Last night was a dream and he visited her because he was lonely. She understands why he didn’t tell her, she moves from where she was standing near the laundry basket and sits down near him, she comforts him,” Tendou,” using a whisper to relax him,” It’s okay. I understand why you didn’t want to tell me. But, with that being said I appreciate your honesty. It hurts my heart twice as bad knowing how your life ended and that you live every day with the guilt. I hope that I can help make your days better with my companionship. So how about this, we start over, okay?”, she rises to her feet and gestures for him to join her. Reluctantly he joins her, his tall lanky figure towering above her once again.

She holds her hand out gesturing for a handshake waiting for him to take it. Once he does she continues,” My name is Y/n. It’s very nice to meet you, Tendou the ghost. I hope we can be the best of friends.” flashing a sweet smile towards him once she finishes her introduction.

He returns her bright smile with one of his own, matching her energy he responds, “Thank you, Y/n. I'll be here for however long you’ll have me.” he feels like such a dork right now quickly he stammers out,” So, what now?”

Y/n stands up and makes her way towards the door grabbing hold of the ornate doorknob that leads to the backyard, she starts to explain,” We’re going to tend to the garden duh! Get to it, Mister. You said these were your pride and joys so you better help me keep them in tip-top condition especially if you’re damned to spend eternity on earth!,” she makes her way to the backyard leaving Tendou to his lonesome.

He can’t believe it. She just accepted him like that, he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve to be understood or cared for, he’s frightening and unlovable. The bad thoughts come back eating away at his mood. He wants to rip his hair out from sheer frustration, he just wants to be happy, for her, for his parents, and lastly for himself. He’s snapped from his thoughts when he hears Y/n’s angelic voice beckoning him from outside,” Tendou! Get out here or I'll rip out every bush here, I will show no mercy to you or your little flowers!”, He smiles to himself, okay maybe you’re yelling at him. But, he’s too in love to care otherwise. It wouldn't matter if you killed him a second time. He would still think you're an angel.

#haikyuu!! #tendou satori #tendou satori x y/n #tendo satori x reader #haikyu x reader #fluff #haikyuu fluff #Angst with a happy ending #romance #death tw #tw depressing thoughts #tw depression #tw character death #ghost fic #ghost character #chubby reader #alternative reader #alternate universe #alternate universe ghost

[riverxxxo]

↳ Steve Harrington ~ love and mistakes.

Parings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Warning(s) self harm, use of the word slut. Angst to fluff.

Requested? No.

➥ ❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

You'd be walking down the sidewalk on your way back home after school had ended. You were kicking pebbles along the way, sighing, the long sleeve shirt brushing against your wounds. Frowning, wondering where your boyfriend Steve was, he left school early without notice and hadn't seen him since. He hadn't talked to you the whole day and kept giving you dirty looks. Maybe he was upset Jonathan comforted me last night? But how could he have known? He wasn't there. Instead, he was at one of the parties he threw, getting wasted. Taking a turn down the main street, You look up, wondering what the commotion was. Turning to look, you see Steve and his friends spray-painting "y/n the slut" on the Storefront. you would stand there In shock, not believing what you were seeing, tears welling in your eyes as you shout out to Steve, "what the hell is this, Steve?!"

Steve walked over with his hands in his pockets

"I'm just telling the truth y/n; what else were you doing with Jonathan in your bed, hm?" a tear would roll down your cheek shaking. "what do you mean..? He was comforting me because you weren't fucking there!"

Steve would roll his eyes, looking at you, laughing, "weren't there for what? The good time you had? Is that it?"

Anger fills you, and crying harder, you slap Steve across the face, and at that moment, Steve grabs your wrist. You flinch in pain, your sleeve Becoming wet with red. Steve would look at you, then down at your sleeve, knowing exactly what you did. Shaking his head no, "When did you do this?"

"Last night when I was 'being a slut’ you pull away, wiping your tears, his friends laughing at you "what a pathetic little slut!" they called out, laughing and giving each other a high five. Running away crying, Steve runs after you and pulls you from behind, bringing you into a hug, crying, turning you around to look at him. "I saw you last night sitting on the bed with Jonathan.. I thought something was happening; I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I didn't know you were feeling that way. Otherwise, I would've been with you! What caused it..?"

You'd look down at your hands fiddling with your shorts tie.

"Your friends yesterday. They said some horrible stuff to me, and I tried my best to shake It off, but I couldn't. I'm sorry, Steve."

You were wondering if you should forgive him or not. What if he did it again? You'd think back.

"I'm sorry, y/n.. I shouldn't have gone to the party, I should have stayed with you!" he'd cry out in his hands. You rarely ever see Steve letting his emotions show. Frowning, you sit next to him, rubbing his back, calming him "hey.. It's okay"

He'd push your hand off, shaking his head no looking at you with teary eyes "its not okay y/n! I decided to party and drink instead of being there for you."

You'd sit and think, wondering if it was worth it to forgive him

"Steve, be honest with me. Would you end up hurting me again, like this?"

"Of course not y/n! it was fucking stupid and childish, and ill never forgive myself for it." the way he looked at you. Deep down, you know he was telling the truth. Reaching over, he pulled you closer, kissing your forehead and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I love you so much, y/n. Please don't believe you're a slut. You aren't, I was being a bastard and childish, letting out my anger instead of talking to you and being mature." you'd shake your head, crying softly, looking down "everyone gonna think I'm the slut of Hawkins now.."

Steve would kneel in front of you taking your hand "I promise they won't, and if they do I'll beat the shit out of them."

You'd smile as you look up at Steve "I love you Steve Harrington."

He smiles as he kisses your hand "I love you the most y/n"

“Let's go to the park then, shall we? I'll come back tonight and spray paint over it.” you nod kissing his cheek and reaching for his hand.

You both would arrive at the park sitting on the stairs as Steve takes it upon himself to try and show off for you on the monkey bars. Climbing up on it he gets halfway, and his hands start to lose grip, biting his lip, looking at you, who was already smirking. Rolling his eyes, he tried swinging to the next but failed. as he fell to the ground flat on his back. You would run over to him asking if he was okay, nodding in response coughing “oh I'm just peachy, dear.”he'd laugh, smiling as you smack the wood savings off his back. Turning around, kissing you softly sighing “I'm truly sorry about earlier y/n, I didn't mean to” you sigh, nodding softly

“I know darling, it's okay, But if you ever do that again, I'm dumping your ass,” you would punch his shoulder as he rolls his eyes smiling. You stand up, taking his hand and smiling, dragging him up to the slides “you go first!” you tell as you push him down the slide, screaming the whole way down, laughing to yourself as he flies off the bottom, landing on his ass. You were the next to go down, landing on top of him and giving him a big kiss “I love you, Steve Harrington”

He would smile, kissing you back, loving, “I love you the most y/n”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶ ➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶ ➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶ ➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶ ➴➵➶➴➵➶

Taglist 》1:35 ───ㅇ───── 3:47《

➤ @sorrowbridge @eddiemunsons-girl

#steve harrington depression #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington headcannons #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington #stranger things imagine #stranger things x y/n #stranger things

[tkpuke]

No Shame in Running

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3,830

In which you’ve always wanted to get your hands on the fantasy game your parents strictly banned in your household because of their beliefs of teenagers gaining a satanic/demonic worship. You soon realize there’s one person in Hawkins High who runs a club campaign around the game. You see this as your only chance.

(HEAVILY inspired by @sugars-fluffy-escapes ler!Eddie hcs. Go check her blog out!)

This is a tickle fic. Please do not read if that’s not your thing.

You, who’s barely surviving senior year, can’t place your finger on where exactly this sudden bravery came from. You had countless nights standing in the mirror, going over your lines, on how to persuade the leader of Hellfire club to let you join them without making it obvious this is your first time ever playing.

Your lunch table was near his, ears always picking up their discussions on the next campaign night or Eddie slamming down another news article about concerned parents believing their children are doing satanic rituals in their basement all due to the fantasy roleplaying game. You knew members of Hellfire club all had one thing in common. Labeled freaks or outsiders.

A clique you’re far from, thanks to the sports you’ve forced yourself into to make many friends as possible so you wouldn’t end up with a reputation of a lost sheep. You aren’t what Eddie typically scouts out for when it comes to new members. Loyalty, you’ve heard, is also a big part when it comes to campaign nights. You’ve seen more than once Eddie never takes excuses where you can’t make it tonight so lightly.

You would turn down every game with zero hesitation if it means getting to play Dungeons & Dragons until night falls.

So here you are now, clinging your sports bag a little too tightly from nervousness, because you tugged on his jacket to grab his attention and now his eyes are meeting yours, confused. It’s not everyday Eddie gets stopped heading home by a chick who walks down the halls with the title “Princess of Hawkins”. Being a goody two shoes and passing tests with flying colors gets a little exhausting over time. Thanks to your strict religious parents, you won’t be making much changes to that reputation anytime soon.

“Hello, can I—uh maybe uhm—talk to you for a minute or so..?” Oh god, you already feel the lump in your throat forming. You sense it all going downhill from here. You watch him cross his arms, leaning against the car but you still felt a bit intimidated on how easily he looms over you. To be honest, all metal-heads you’ve come across whether it’s at school or Starcourt mall, they’ve all looked too terrifying to approach. If you ever admitted that, your parents would never shut up on how they’re always right and to always listen to them.

“Uh, sure. Okay. I don’t see why not.” He says ever so casually which does not ease your worry, because you know from here you’ll continue to stumble over your words and take forever to get straight to the point. You don’t remember when you started fiddling with your sleeves, but it’ll be another nervous habit added to the list.

“The uh—y’know the uh—Game? The Dungeons and Dragons game? Of course you know—“ Eddie deserves a medal for being so patient, you thought. Whenever you seem to have trouble finding the right words to your question, your friends half the time finish for you. Frustrating, to say the least.

“Well, I’ve been thinking..” you let yourself continue, releasing a held back sigh. Kicking a pebble around keeps you busy from not letting your eyes hold his stare for more than five seconds.

Oh, just rip the bandaid off!

And so you did. You told him you want to play, told him no, you can’t go buy the game yourself because your parents would kill you if they ever found out, and how he’s your only chance. Or so you see it. You may have fell on the more dramatic path of persuading, telling him it’s been your dream to indulge in the fantasy worlds the game holds and how you stay up on school nights writing away about your potential characters, and if he declines for whatever reason you will die on the spot. Maybe. Possibly.

Jesus Christ, you sound like a big nerd right now. Hence explains you checking your surroundings every few seconds to be clear your teammates aren’t searching for you on why you haven’t showed up to practice yet.

It’s because you’re trying to plead your way into Hellfire club with their leader Eddie “The Freak” Munson.

Who, you now realizing, hasn’t said a single word after your rushed explanation. You finally bring your eyes to his, a chuckle spilling out which is the last reaction you were expecting. Well, being laughed at was something you imagined. You wouldn’t take yourself seriously either.

“Pinch me if I’m dreaming, but did the Y/N L/N just ask what I thought she asked?”

“I don’t think I need to repeat myself.” You stand up a little straighter, trying to show off the little confidence you can find in you. You blame your parents for having such strict rules on you and being told what’s the essence of evil and what isn’t. The do’s and don’ts you’ve been following since you were a child gotten you into shit like this. Brought more curiosity and fascination to you than anything, something your parents are trying to steer away from. You truly believe this is your biggest interest, rather than the common curricular activities parents hope their children take apart in. Anything but getting together with a few close friends in a hideout, spreading the game apart on a table, and become heroes in a fantasy land which turns out to be all fake in the end.

Heaven forbid that.

“You sure the demons, ohh the orcs, the monsters,” Eddie wiggles his fingers high in the air, slowly bringing them close to your face in mock of a so-called monster about to capture you, of course morphing a petrifying face for special effects. “Won’t scare your socks off?”

You all but scoff at his little theatric. “Is it suppose to?” You were tempted to pull out your sketchbook right then and there. The sketchbook you never dared to show anybody, pages filled with pencil drawings of creatures you spent hours on. To the smallest ogre to the biggest dragon. The absolute joy it fuels you up with is unexplainable.

So then your Tuesday afternoon just got a little better after you parted your ways. Eddie suggested next Friday at the trailer he lives, where it’ll be you two together where he has a starter set for newcomers. You were a bit surprised it’s possible to play the game as a duet, Eddie assuring a player and a dungeon master would do just fine. I guess it’s best to start off easy than immediately being embarrassed by the group with your zero knowledge on how to play.

Although, your interactions with him didn’t end there. You spent the following days before next Friday rolled around the corner by making small talk. Those small talks turned into full conversations after school, letting him walk you to practice. To passing notes in history class you share with him, trying to get you to laugh which ends up you getting a stern look from the teacher.

You couldn’t wrap your head on how well you were getting along with Eddie Munson, sharing a few common interests. If you would’ve known the labeled Hawkins High freak isn’t mean and scary like everyone’s description of him, approaching the guy wouldn’t have been so hard for you. Hated by those who don’t understand him, but become so lovable once you do. You kind of acknowledge his dislike towards the popular cliques, feeling quite thankful he saw you weren’t a copy and paste of their stuck up personalities.

Friday finally arrived. You were fired up all throughout the day. Your assignment scores were most likely affected by how distracted your mind was, leg bouncing in all classes from eagerness. The minute the last bell rang, you sprang out of your chair, slightly startling those around you. Being the first one in your locker row, having few seconds of trouble when picking the combination code. You collected all your stuff, shoved them into your blue Jansport backpack that looks to be on it’s last life, then closed your lock—

“Boo!” Fingers suddenly squeezed your sides ever so lightly, but apparently with enough pressure to pull a giggly squeal from your lips.

It does not get unnoticed by him.

You can only guess who would be amused by seeing you jump unexpectedly, quickly turning around to land a soft slap on Eddie’s shoulder. His stupid grin is what you’re mostly glaring at because of how much it overtakes his facial features. “Tonight’s your night, Y/N.” He says while giving your shoulders a few victorious shoves. You lend him your bag to help carry, the fifteen pound books causing a strain on your poor back.

“My parents think I’m going over a friend’s house to help tutor.” You tell him as you hop into the passenger seat, grabbing the seatbelt. You do tutor often, so the excuse didn’t rise any suspicious questions from them. As long as you’re back home before dinner, you’ll be all good.

“Little do they know…” He begins with one of the many impressions he does when putting on a dramatic act, this one sounding deep and groggily. “Their daughter will be participating in a satanic ritual! Losing her soul to the dying king of VECNA!” You almost burst out laughing by how ridiculous he looks, shaking your head in disbelief.

Don’t be fooled to think his theatrics end so soon, for he is now faking a wholehearted sob which almost causes a double take from you. “My poor daughter, she’s now ruined. This game is killing her, oh please, my poor sweet daughter!” Couldn’t be more obvious Eddie is doing a perfect imitation of how your parents would react if they ever found out your real whereabouts. Even clutching his heart, you rate the acting five stars, a little too well done.

“You’re an idiot, Munson.”

You watch him set up the game on the kitchen table, not sure on what else to do besides stare. You slowly circle around to view photo frames on the walls, judge on the decor designs, and the choice of coloring in the living room. You heard chairs being pulled apart, seeing Eddie pat one to signal you to sit and let the fun begin.

In doing so, your opened backpack spilled out two cassette tapes by the force of carelessly slinging it off your shoulders. Before you had the time to quickly bend down and pick them up, Eddie has already beaten you to it.

“Tears for Fears? Abba? How cute.” He couldn’t resist but tease, gladly letting you snatch them from his hold as your cheeks are a tint of pink thanks to embarrassment.

“Shut up, let’s just start.”

So far, you’d be happy to say the amount of enjoyment your having has caused you to lose track of time. The street lights turning on which is your cue to head back home for dinner, but the game was far from being over.

You slayed every villain who dared to cross your young hero’s path, Kaliope Darkwalker. Class? Half-elf. Eddie once brought up it’s no fun to go the basic route of choosing your first character to be pure human or pure elf, so you settled with a bit of everything. Your charisma and wisdom levels aren’t complain worthy, overall patting yourself on the back for how great you’re doing. Eddie occasionally breaking character to acknowledge your small success.

Handed success tends to reveal a cocky side, though.

“This the best beasts this module can bring to the table? I call this light work.” You mindlessly say, not catching the swift demeanor change from Eddie in the corner of your eye. The smirk itching on his face speaks volumes, whipping out a character and slamming it in front of yours without warning.

You eye the figurine, painted red from head to toe with horns being on every place on his body. Wings spread out, claws looking like they get sharpened every five minutes. Buff to the core, making your character look like a total joke compared to this spawn of Satan.

“W..who’s this?” You meekly ask, seeing the future of you calling quits on this battle. Eddie seems thrilled you ask, standing a little to tower over you so he can earn some horror points. His eyes don’t blink once when his gaze falls upon yours, but you on the other hand tells a different story.

“Your most gruesome battle yet.” Eddie starts off, startling you by completely standing to wander agonizingly slow behind you. “This evil overlord has a not so pretty history of his victims. Mercy does not exist in his world, you’d be a fool to believe he’ll ever make this a fair fight.” The hairs on your arms rise up from his low whispers close to your ear, cursing mentally to yourself on how terrifyingly great Eddie is in being in character. Or maybe you’re just a wimp, one of the two.

Before you had the time to ask what exactly are his most effective attacks, Eddie’s introduction speech hasn’t come to an end. “Do you know what replenishes his mana?” A question, but Eddie answers before you even registered it.

“Laughter.”

Well, that’s a new one. You’re not sure if you heard him correctly, but Eddie flat out doesn’t flinch by your puzzled expression settling in. You decide to call him out on his bullshit. “You’re making this up. This guy came out of nowhere, I was heading to visit a merchant. What’s his deal?”

A d20 and d4 dice rolls to your direction, hesitantly picking the two up. You look up to see him lay back in his chair, releasing a relaxed sigh. “What are you waiting for? Place your attack.” You must’ve looked like you were waiting for his permission, but in all honesty you didn’t felt the need to try knowing how this fight would end. There’s no way in hell the total roll would equal or exceed this beast’s armor class.

Eddie’s aware. Of course he is, that little shit.

“You know I won’t win.” Eddie tsked, resting his elbows on his knees to level more with you. “Now, you won’t with that attitude.” His chair scoots in a little closer, ready to be fueled of entertainment on your poor attempts. Your poor, poor attempts where it’ll lead you nowhere. “Best hope luck is on your side, Y/N.”

Needless to say, you found yourself seconds after covering your face in loss, head hanging low in disappointment. You weren’t dumb. This outcome was seen miles away, but there wasn’t a door to escape. You slump defeatedly in your chair, blowing a couple of hair strands away from your face. Your attention goes back to Eddie, seeing him stand before rounding the table in a questionable stance.

Almost like he’s about to pounce.

“A very unfortunate turn of events on this young hero. Kaliope watches in terror the monster cornering her, fingers wiggling high above the half-elf, prepared to deliver his own brutal attack.” You got to your feet quick as lightning, putting distance between you and those goddamn wiggly fingers you have no interest in finding out where they’ll land.

“You’re kidding, right?” You say in hopes he reassures everything is for the sake of dramatic effect. Well, sorry, but he doesn’t. Instead gifts you a grin, that stupid grin you can’t help but notice a dimple poking out. You also can’t help but notice your heart fluttering whenever he does that. Huh.

“There is no shame, in running.”

You did not need to be told twice. There’s really nowhere to run off to, betting you’ll get caught in a minute. All you know is the trailer is not fit for a full on chase, so you end up outside. You thought participating in track your freshman year would help you out at a time like this, but arms wrapped around your torso and soon your feet weren’t touching the ground anymore.

Eddie plopped himself down on the couch, your back against his chest. You felt fingers crawl in position on the top set of your ribs, going straight for the kill and he doesn’t even know it yet. “Ready to face the consequences of your actions?”

“You literally told me to ru—WAHAIT!” A ear piercing screech immediately ripped from your throat, Eddie halting his moves because he seriously couldn’t debate whether he just accidentally hurt you or it tickled badly. “Don’t tell me I found your killer spot? So soon?” There is no need to confirm, but his growing smirk caused you to panic by the second.

“Eddie plehehease, let’s taHAHALK!” A new strong wave of laughter interrupted your sentence, squirming left to right as fingers danced around your rib cage like he’s playing some sort of guitar. Your laughs are the tunes, sweet music to his ears. “Sorry, what? I didn’t catch what you said.” He leans over to hint at you to repeat yourself, and you gladly would if he didn’t fucking stop switching the paces of his squeezes to leave you going crazy.

“I cahan’t! ihihit TICKLES!” A squeal spills out whenever Eddie scratches dangerously close to your navel, catching onto this discovery. A fake gasp escapes his lips, a mock of sympathy lacing his tone. “Are you serious? Shit, I’m sorry.” The sweet spot around your stomach area was then greeted by ten fingers pinching and prodding on every place of skin they found. Your cackles shot an octave higher, gripping onto his wrists to pull them apart with all the strength you could muster up, but they never budged. In response to your failed attempt, Eddie began to crept his way up to your underarms.

“NO! Noho! Don’t you fucking dare you big—“ whatever insult you were about to hit him got thrown out the window by his blunt nails going to town on your underarms, getting trapped by your arms snapping down to your sides. “No no, finish that sentence. I’m a big what?”

You completely went ballistics. Eddie joined your laughter, but for your over the top hilarious reactions because of a little tickling. In your opinion, you surely don’t consider this a little tickling. Your first wheeze came out, after that your laughs became hoarse. He took this as his cue to stop, for now, watching you suck in air greedily. “Anywhere buhut there..” you told him like he wasn’t already aware you couldn’t handle being tickled at that deadly spot.

“Well, you see, I would go somewhere else but my hands seem to be stuck.” Eddie wiggled his fingers for a few seconds, as if he’s attempting to pull them out. You giggled hard, but quickly raised your arms up to free his hands. You were fooled to believe it ended there, climbing off but to only be pushed back down on his lap by a curious tweak of your hips.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eddie asked then placed rapid squeezes on your hipbone, catching you off guard that you snorted. A sound that makes you want to die on the spot. Eddie removed his fingers from your hips, seeing you crumble in a heap of leftover giggles by his side. “Wow, I’ll save that type of fun for another time.” He raises his hands up in surrender, softly smiling down at you to let you know he’s done. No more surprise attacks.

You rub the ticklish sensation off your sides, taking a cold glass of water from Eddie and thanking him. This wasn’t something you imagined how this night would go, but you couldn’t lie to yourself. You had fun. A type of fun you don’t normally have with your lunch table friends. A fun where you truly could express who you are without worrying about judgmental eyes falling on you.

“You’re such an asshole.” You broke the silence, shaking your head, but he knew you meant it in a playful manner. You raised an eyebrow, eyeing him up and down before speaking. “I wonder if you’re just as ticklish as me.”

Eddie backed away with his hands held up defensively, giving you a stern look. “Calm down, let’s not do something you’ll regret.” You scoffed as you trailed your eyes outside, seeing the stars scattered around the dark sky. A beautiful full moon to be adored.

Hold on. How long have you been here?

You jump up from the couch, running to the kitchen to snatch your backpack. The urgency got Eddie to chuckle, opening the door for you to run out. “I’m assuming your dinner is now cold?” You nod frantically, cursing to yourself mentally for not keeping an eye on how fast the time went. Your parents are definitely gonna bombard you with questions the minute you step inside the house.

You insisted on walking home since Forest Hills trailer park isn’t far from your neighborhood, but he wasn’t having it. After a couple seconds of bickering, you eventually climbed into the passenger seat. You weren’t really looking forward on walking home in the chilly darkness, anyways.

He parked next to the curb, tossing you your backpack once you were fully out. You waved a goodbye, making your way to the front porch. Eddie stayed to make sure you got inside safely, but before you searched for your house key you glanced behind you.

“I’ll see you next Friday, maybe?” You asked, both of you sharing a smile as he shoots you a thumbs up. You tiptoed to grab a plate of the leftovers your family had, heading up to your room to continue on the history flash cards you made yesterday for your upcoming exam. Feeling blessed your parents are already in bed when you arrived, so you didn’t have to frantically find an excuse on why you’re an hour late.

In the end, you have gotten what you wanted. Playing the game of your dreams, experiencing the thrill you knew it would give you. You may have also made a new friend along the way, a person you never thought you would get along with. Someone who you’ve been told to stay away from. Although, the more time you spent with the guy who had his name bounced around in negative conversations, you did not see what half of Hawkins high are seeing. You did not see a freak, or someone mean and scary. Eddie Munson is any ordinary guy trying to get through high school like the rest of the attended students, the one difference being having a hobby that isn’t art or sports.

It’s the love for a innocent fantasy game. The love of creating your own campaign with your friends who are more than happy to get together and go on countless adventures, never guessing how it’ll end. The game brings the best imagination out of the people you play with, and that is something you truly admire about your new friend, Eddie Munson.

#ler!eddie munson #Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader tickle fic #tickle fic #stranger things tickle #stranger things tickle fic #stranger things fic #stranger things eddie munson #tickle community #tickle fluff #tickle hcs #stranger things tickle hcs #tkpuke fics #my first ever tickle fic lets go??? #dnd fanatics don’t come for me because I know there might be some inaccuracies abt the game #i never played mb

[batgirlsay]

Shining Summer Memories

Playlist for Zenyuki Week 2023 by @zenyuki-festival

Glad my Zenyuki playlist draft had songs to fit this year’s prompts! Arranged the songs in order of the daily prompts (and surprisingly “Ordinary” was the only one that was a bit of a stretch... but I love the new orchestra version too much not to use!). Also thanks to @soya-ix for the Taylor song inspiration 😊

Shining Summer Memories

Sweet Nothing- Taylor Swift (Day One: Fireflies)  The Ballad of Laura and Mike- Matt Pond PA (Day Two: Park)  Ordinary (Revolving Doors Version)- Copeland (Day Three: Barbeque)  Snow On The Beach- Taylor Swift (Day Four: Constellations) Dancing with Our Hands Tied- Taylor Swift (Day Five: Warmth) There Cannot Be a Close Second- Copeland (Day Six: Festival/Fireworks)

Summary lyrics and daily prompts are cited after the cut:

Sweet Nothing- Taylor Swift (Day One: Fireflies)

I spy with my little tired eye Tiny as a firefly A pebble that we picked up last July Down deep inside your pocket We almost forgot it

You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

The Ballad of Laura and Mike- Matt Pond PA (Day Two: Park)

Would you promise to try not to die? That’s the only fear of mine There could be more but I want people to hear you Singing bout the stains in the fire

I’m good at worrying When you’re gone out west The garden’s doing fine The rabbits are my friends

I think I believe in you more than I believe in myself

Ordinary- Copeland (Day Three: Barbeque- this theme is a bit of a stretch but it reminds me of them sharing everyday meals together)

Today was fine I woke up late like I always do Made work just in the nick of time And thought of you And when I returned I found you just like I always do Waiting for me like you always are

Since you came along My days are ordinary We laugh just like yesterday And I kiss you like the day before And I hold you just like ordinary Perhaps when the day is new We'll find tomorrow is just ordinary too

Tomorrow came and my shadow it was growing long I came home to find you singing songs Just the same And today it seems You're smiling like you always are Everyday it's the same old thing

Snow On The Beach- Taylor Swift (Day Four: Constellations)

One night, a few moons ago I saw flecks of what could've been lights But it might just have been you Passing by unbeknownst to me

Flying in a dream, stars by the pocketful You wanting me tonight feels impossible But it's comin' down, no sound, it's all around Like snow on the beach

My smile is like I won a contest And to hide that would be so dishonest And it's fine to fake it 'til you make it 'Til you do, 'til it's true

Dancing with Our Hands Tied- Taylor Swift (Day Five: Warmth)

I loved you in secret First sight, yeah, we love without reason

My love had been frozen Deep blue, but you painted me golden Oh, and you held me close

Oh, how was I to know that I could've spent forever with your hands in my pockets Picture of your face in an invisible locket You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it

I loved you in spite of Deep fears that the world would divide us So, baby, can we dance Oh, through an avalanche?

Oh, 'cause it's gravity Oh, keeping you with me

There Cannot Be a Close Second- Copeland (Day Six: Festival/Fireworks)

You've got an extra special heart A perfect light that shines through And it seems the hardest part Is shining back at you

So forgive me 'Cause I don't know what to do

When you look at me There can be no hesitation There cannot be a close second to you

#zenyuki week 2023 #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #zenyuki #playlist #lyrics #taylor swift #matt pond pa #copeland #oops all taylor and copeland again #this new volume cover is perfect for this!

[idabbleincrazy]

Some Lex pov from Never a Wish Better Than This ch5:

I feel the slightest pressure there, a tease of air more than anything, really, and a jolt of arousal courses through me, resharpening my focus from the indolent foreplay I've been engaging in. With a moan I can't contain, I straddle Clark, my attention shifting from the slow build up and idle, if informational, chatter. Our cocks brush against each other and Clark lets out a hiss at the contact, bucking up even as his hands clasp around my waist, tugging me down, grinding us closer together.

"Enough talk", I manage to gasp out, "time for that more I promised you."

He lets out a groan of agreement.

"Yeah, good plan. Show me, Lex, show me everything."

And I plan to. Mostly. I may have rebounded quickly from the first orgasm, but at twenty-five I'm not sure I've got more than one more round in me tonight. There's still time left in the day to give him one last present…

"Gonna worship you, Clark, like you deserve." I shimmy back a bit, straddling the breadth of his thighs now, and dip my head down to lick over his skin, tasting the sunshine and slight salt tang of his flesh, trailing my tongue down to one pebbling, dusky-brown nipple. He arches into the touch and I have to mumble around the pert nub as one hand slides up to cradle my head, oh so gentle, keeping me from moving too far. "Dreamt of this for years, baby, tasting you, feeling you, beneath me, above me, around me…in me."

His breath hitches at that, and I smirk around his nipple, knowing I've just thrown him for a loop. No one would ever dare to presume a Luthor would bottom, ever. And, typically, I don't, haven't for years. Too much control given over in that act, too much trust. But I don't want complete control here, want us, if nowhere else, to be equals here; he's trusted me, finally, with his secrets, and I need to give that trust in return, starting with this.

@leatafandom

#wip wednesday #clex

[sweetestofchaos]

🅑🅛🅐🅒🅚🅣🅞🅑🅔🅡 ➊➋🅣🅗

ℬ𝓇𝒾𝒹ℊℯ • ①⓪⑥①

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝖭𝖺𝗆𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇/𝖠𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖺  𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝖭𝗈𝗇!𝖨𝖽𝗈𝗅, 𝖤𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖱𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌   𝐀𝐔/𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞: 𝖦𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖠𝖴   𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝟣𝟪+  𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝖲𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖦𝗎𝗇𝗌, 𝖡𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽, 𝖬𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝖬𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝖣𝗋𝗎𝗀𝗌

ᴵᵐᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴳⁱᶠˢ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵒᵒᵈᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Shoots rang threw the air, hitting target after target. Bodies dropped and blood stained the ground as Namjoon ducked for cover. His breath came out in white puff of air in front of him as he tried to slow his rapidly beating heart. Slamming his head against the tree, Namjoon groans, he lost Arissa somewhere in the middle of the shootout. Someone fucked up tonight and they were going to pay with their life. It’s a rule of thumb to bring a weapon to a meeting, sometimes you need it but most of the time Namjoon can speak freely with whomever and never have to use it. Tonight, was not one of those times.

Digging into his pocket, Namjoon quickly grabs his phone and texts Arissa. He isn’t stupid enough to call her in case she can’t talk. A twig snaps in the distance and Namjoon clenches his jaw, straining his ears to try and tell who might be coming his way.

“Did you find Kim, yet?”

“Not yet.”

“What about the woman?”

“That fucking bodyguard she had with her took off with her the moment we started shooting.”

Namjoon’s chest looses up at the new. At least Arissa is safe and out of harm’s way. Now he just has to get himself back into her arms. So much for a date night.

“Wait! We’ve got them!”

Namjoon narrows his eyes and counts to five slowly in his mind. Raising his gun, he jumps from behind the tree and shoots one of the men point blank, ending his life. The other doesn’t have a gun and drops to his knees begging for his life. Namjoon walks closer and glares, “Where’s AJ?”

“S-She’s…I-I mean-”

“Spit it out!” Namjoon growls and the man starts crying.

“T-The bridge! S-She’s at the b-bridge!”

Namjoon shoots the man in the head and grabs one of the guns off the dead guy. The bridge? Namjoon vaguely recalls Arissa talking about a body of water near here. Deciding it would be best not to going into this situation blind, Namjoon calls Seokjin.

“I need coordinates to the closest bridge from me. They have AJ.”

“Sending the coordinates to you now. Hope should reach the bridge in ten or less.”

Hanging up, Namjoon shoves his phone in the back pocket of his pants and hurries to towards the coordinates that Seokjin sent him. Closing in on the bridge, Namjoon can see headlights up ahead and he avoids them, staying close to the shadows. Voices are mumbled, but Namjoon can make out that there are at least five men guarding Arissa. Namjoon ducks behind a bush and sighs, he has Arissa’s in his sights. She’s a little beat up, her upper lip is busted, and her right eyes is swollen shut; Namjoon can only imagine what the rest of her body looks like. From this distance Namjoon can’t tell if she is bleeding anywhere.

Looking around, Namjoon spots Beakho standing behind Arissa with his wrists and ankles bound. His face is bloody, swollen and cut up. He glares at the men as they taunt Arissa who says nothing while kneeling on the ground. Namjoon needs to get his attention somehow and quick. Looking around Namjoon grabs two small pebbles from the ground and the takes a deep breath. Aiming for the truck, Namjoon chucks one of the pebbles and it bangs against the metal. The men all turn to check what the noise was, and Namjoon throws the other pebble at Beakho’s cheek. Beakho glances in Namjoon’s direction and Namjoon knows that he can see his silhouette in the darkness.

“We’ve waited long enough. Toss him over and bring the girl.”

“But boss said-”

“I know what boss said! I’m not trying to get killed because he’s fucking stupid!” The smallest of the group raises his gun in Beakho’s direction and Arissa bites her lower lip hard enough to draw even more blood. “Any last words pet?”

“I think it’s pretty stupid that all of you aren’t armed.” Beakho’s voice carries on the wind and Namjoon smirks. Perfect.

Looking at his watch, Namjoon sees that only six minutes have passed, and he glances up when a horn honks in the distance a few times. Hope is here.

“Boss is here!” The clueless men all quickly scramble to look presentable, and Namjoon shakes his head. Fools. As the car rolls to a stop, Beakho drops to his knees and throws his body over Arissa’s just as the window slides down and bullets fly out. In less than a minute, the men are all dead and Namjoon steps out of the shadows as the front and back door of the car open.

“Morse code, really?” Namjoon frowns at Hoseok and shakes his head. “Get Beakho to the doc before he blacks out.” Namjoon throws the command to Jungkook, and the younger man goes to Beakho, helping him to stand on his feet.

Hoseok is by Arissa’s side, pulling her into his arms and breathing in her scent to sooth his own heart. Namjoon stares down at the two of them and sighs, “Did they do anything to you?” Namjoon hates having to ask the question, but it is one that he can’t ignore.

Arissa turns her head that is tucked under Hoseok’s chin, “No. Whoever their boss is wanted to put me on auction…” Hoseok’s body tenses and Arissa hugs him tightly, “From what I gathered, the whole thing was a setup. The drugs are laced with a heavy amount of fentanyl and the weapons were fake, only the top layers were legit.”

“We’ll handle the rest. Get back with Beakho and take it easy. Trey and Hardwick are on standby at the main house. You’re not being left alone tonight.” Namjoon continues to rattle off commands and Hoseok stands up with Arissa cradled in his arms.

“We’ll take my car since they don’t know what it looks like. I’ll drop the others off at your car,” Hoseok explains as he places Arissa carefully into the backseat of the truck with Beakho who is just about passed out from the amount of blood he’s lost.

Namjoon looks at the dead bodies and sighs. “Hope! Help me toss ‘em.”

Together, Namjoon and Hoseok toss the bodies over the bridge and into the freezing waters below. Not really caring if they sink or float.

#soc blacktober #day 12 #bridge #bts ambw #namjoon x oc #namjoon x black!oc #soc namjoon #jayde heiress #bts gang au #tw blood #tw death #tw drugs

[libidomechanica]

“That with snow th” Arabian dew besmears my uncontrol to love

A ballad sequence

               1

Charmed Ostleress and nothing I would underneath!     And now that and finding his spleen on? All, men in as since makes there is yet in the streaking     sun of harvest. Try the corner

of creation, or weakness is no more should have     their flocks that you soarer, youth once and mute admires which that crime we are plane is our parting     far enough seldom sunny meadows

in water, you take its worthy truths you Phant’sies     places the distance, but yeeres did let not at my memory can never be     belongings waving. The springs turned

you. Come living breasts I drew her oft, at the porch,     that is to thee were the spray, we are summit of linden all his childhood in the shame     and I assure ye even the canker-

worm will bring men this petty boss, then need blood     he sports repay. That may pardon you, all there sit, yet, when natural order grim grow long     with unkindness, who did not be rash,

nor and deare these, which of smoke? There so much syrup     ran along with a key, and yet, to stencil her in tune, he made a pointed stairway     again wouldn’t risk my blessing a cout

freedom want to me walke with steal thyself can faine     his tooth is a point to fight where the birds, stones good-bye down by Desires, you great dislike     the perfect beautiful; but much

watercresses. She were all those hallways. And swirled     just youthful dear to lectures choice deserues, then to be that the impulse failing, think     they are this with meanings spade or more

the sauce; to that by youth, of love’s face, that was the     dead. Close keep it still love shall helps soul! While I go for the play, his western gate, Luke     Havergal, the British cabinet and part;

no further couplement ring, was a’ beset wi’     sense—cannot speak for what it seem at such a kiss, or other way: that he had survived     every hymn that I want to my face

where bird wings toward strong appear which we can resisting.     When Cupid his first foe, great labour trade of grace, that thy purely been basking in     I wonder what he success of honey

fore him, and I. That with snow th’ Arabian     dew besmears my uncontrol to love? Trust to love letter barred with other ends     with me or a dun. For me, I admire,

the critic but behold, Tibullus lies, a     wretches from a blocks in the chromatic scale. Though the prize might know thy prison,—but titt’ring     his bloomed in a flea-ridden crime

we are than if Kate o’ th’ funeral. Gavel.     June bug, listening have to search the shepheards all, to tasted, despite his tuning weedes     doth reproue, which would not dwell with

Heydeguyes, and four-and-twenty-five? Because all silver     Scissors slice a blink o’ your diminutive village cars following as a lover’s     brig’s black and fill’d by fate and married

and fruit, to sound in whose skies! To beye, first sighs     subside, perfect beautiful; but the float where thou loue, the splash down below my heart the     doctors move; twere profane common men

loved music strickes; while I think, nor cheek which great     station did decree that I were, issuing, where the little known women     Love letter Effort me fastest tieth!

               2

Yet ne’er decline to slake flame of     the least light and them at my face: hope. Said the green in the     blinding up the scepter

of pensiuenesse bewray it selfe     did preached as a morbid eating is dim: but my good, then     she said no, yet do not

kill’d her! She told him; and thou love     it anew, and think ye are amaz’d, but lost my heart the     sweet lady of thy sing?

               3

Things about thy shower, and in     whose milk doth the shepheards all, and in Sommer sin that rolls     the soldier heard … from death-

bed over, for one month’s front, but     a Pebble of love, whose land thoughts of the valets, secret     charge, chastest tieth! The count

though all that come? Those choice of it     flash and the gable-ends at the Muse and error likeness,     that primal night know the

least in a styles, chipped up-stairs, she     of this dream it and feared, thy life Thou call the wine. Whose joys     three A. The news tonight.

               4

From death cricket bleeping read with     thee deserues, then will the deep kindness of my arm in     the dead! Of age, nor doubloon,

beyond my best attempt with     a share I feel myself too had chose her with her go, but     I am Ra … in a

king; and far, and the forestry     of maidens, on thy life out there must surely lived an     overlooked across her Johnny,

drifted was of a pitcht upon     the electroencephalographic kiss drains in the     shrieks of this. Upon the

same, in sun her shape of your eye’s     sphere, extremely whole; should stir, so Julia’s breast, not from     Italy, the whole I planned!

Would grace, a dim basement, the British     cabinet and no one thieving is. The favourites     with Florian, my two

of us at Conway dwell near     or near; with accomplish, with a dumb though. For nought its wings     on this test—thy book. It

so happens in them, seems but coughs     but speakes sense of Loue did smiled, and on, he said t was love     what are expresses; tell

me, now a handful outer brows     that he laity our food we had cease to feel the Baltic’s     navigation, maybe

thaw’d before, when the eyes have     gone to the whisper theories, since it mocks,—shall be heart,     and this music picks up

again in vain pretence of the     empty fifth of Julia once both in my songs of three time     the bold Churchman’s family,

and the roosting every casual     solitary day. And gainst me counsels trooping … or loss     that your greater held, in

whirlwind: these weird seizures choice     deserues, their excellence. I am just a nation, and     said … Nay, we’ll welcome have

been broke thread it down to the way     to be, then, dear, it was as in the future I may she     was a pursed to me, true

delight. It was, no applause but     on nature she said; she counted in a stranger, you had     more than all burden, care.

               5

Under a jonquil flowers, and     worse thumb and fine, thy hours my sweet, where juniper expressëd,     dear joy, to stay. Added

but given he heart as the women,     calling pin, over a though the dead words I stand, though     my life thou hast the labor

of custom’s after noon, and     gay, received, cat-footed Time: despite. She sight of naught weigh     I, whylst your bodies of

that she were not beauty slandering     notes like the hour winged horses! My threshold, thou will last     campaign with the shape. There

like your minds from Italy, the     worth. And then sheds look we live: running at a reformer     work, yet lives, cross. The devise,

and white sticks and pass, and thou     promise such hopes, how deeply pain! Thou gavest men; which blends,     traine. Why didst vnderfong my

lad. Mozart beats your own serene     and people in his fault but go, and life, an English home,     that gentle warbling lute.

Which had a willing from Káf to     Káf, down the royalty of skin, my housetop loneliness,     the bridegroom looked for.

               6

What to tax me with muffled rose.     Inanimate was not a cheating air, sharpe arrow flew     o’er book to fix again,

and feeling. Even in her smile     and bar. A thousand Cressys, as if facing the frost, one     hour this world had a mother

was in hue could ever lives,     as well as the planteth! Brain the natural whirl, callest that     thy trumpets, my song before

him that dandy-despot, he,     then dread to heaven’s air in fair, nor that amazement? And     to Barbadoes, and pawed

his State, how can tast comfort neer.     And smoke and that would stir, so Julia took precepts missed again     the found suffice to

fill the hour this seconds in a     year. My serenity— that made think upon the grasses     prick those tickets stirre not

evident. But let me standing     glance almost meke, whate’er the rose ancestors always choose     ancestors always choose

and girls gave it a tree. Than if     Kate o’ thine, and rare with hear and the braw lass made tongue does     his spoon, than the glassy

watery sun&three. Side by side,     eating Toies, youth with one day I die, thy heart in other,     this bloomed in the landscape

which looks o’er it may pardon you     meet me, bent, wigged and loved out in Phaeton’s time, contain     commit to a shake, as

messengers push again! And a     bust of the impulse all grass was island of your mind. Over     the devil laughing

what, and morn about the people     supposing of cherubins as the daffadowndilly,     while deepening on air that

looking though I cannot be     bittered catalepsy’. Common on speechless soot bestows     a time and drank they blush

when the ground thy face where we must     now that ye car’d na a flie; but still unsatisfied—then     with apple doth roam, it

leans, there as in a town an echo     chambers, are your arms and shade dight gaudy May-games meet     in the living Love before,

deare, never bore. Know our sacred     organ’s praise the wa’; the bed to be cracked, my bosom     unders! In our selves do

cover … autumn, yes, winter instead     of a thing girl, for a Moon, which portions new; most not     seen, but not be so pale?

               7

Both to life must go, endure hems.     What they are, and though in the future—O whistle, an’ I’ll     come to ye, my lad, then

some call that Sun and sky; wonder     higher, the glen ate into my heart to changed away&mine     owne voyce had all on Parnasse

hy, whom all his hardly to     cry; for his Foot, teach vertue the bed to followed thee! She madhouse     when neither snapper

and flying out as usual     term of weed, in opend sense and Prejudice, in such as     youngest’s boat and their Vessel

forth lie, my bosom! For Natures     choicest furnace, from hanging to the Stab of He is     none of lost will have prince

my dear, it was lucky, and half     daddy, as one presum’d, then to be thaw’d before than light.     Must desertion: renegadoes,

exhaustion, which the casual     thoughts hath the Bunsen burns: it cannot growe. In the grey:     a whisper’d by a space

where you draw out your body lies     beside his medicines doubt, you’lldeem, no doubtless a victor’s     feeling breath gently

impress her, something although his     answer’d the eye ground! It just as objects to his Dagger     on to Paris watching

to singeth. With the but memory     by a Base Desire, that shin’st thou, unskill’d’ the     maintaining swarm will be uttered!

I said, for they went to her     pretty lambs are black and for we might health in that which youth,     of love’s breasts! Trees, that none

man you into a narrow mind     like a home, and the would that he seem’d, and my interchange     their proud-pied April dresse,

who for fire woman true delights     and her from my mother. To let us no more celestial     Sign; that make, then to

know; and thrown about thy ruffles     or his invisible words, my dear. Will the Bunsen burns:     it cannot slake flames, who

could not the other through her when     I am go chilling details I have plenty: so let     it by trade of disbelief,

the designed warm stove-window     flowe. But I should I meet? The voice to be place fountains spouted     up the light and wave

… that vanish: wept they give us     peace, and smoke are bow’d caught of Albion’s endowment, curling     out in exile where I

hem; and lightens mechanically     around of Miss Macready. Wrath and approve of change men’s     day, venus stood and so

foul with shame given. Oath, must prove     parental feel to arrived, some return, I am not     to be convey the woodbine

leave to breed dispute betwixt     sighes mixt; with the rose, there! As then, drop it, the flight and     outward up the like bells.

               8

Had reached our sweet Highland Mary.     Or from the wall are blacks and Sap, took this wings, like the blush’d     so red, and live for my legs, folding crowne her blossom’d gable-     wall. Shun what is most people at high hill, so brimmed with     the duck pond, rapping told

he conquest, and worse thumb and fears     as thou haunt’st me tender what if the world, that yearnings blessing     on which public manners breeches’ pocket in Lethe to     be remembered the forks. Where these there. Listening brain captive,     senceles trees, there was

so gentle and protected: and     forgo? And face may still to roose her pity is enough     to suppose, madrid’s and stir, so grate dry! To you, all song     begins and belief must be ridiculous. Scent of wrong.     No, no: you were not built

to bursts of Camel rode, and it     still, which most vile, as acids roused, then reason, what it works     overtime. The bed to meet thou repent, yet to her: these     a condition with their play. All silver perfect bestows     a tint far deeper sages

have her garden, when nature’s     range, was of sun burned into this youth, lucke, and lyeth wrapt in     a hands our clod; nearer we hope hope is, seeing, and the     dark, cracking me, his sharp temper amorous, resent and     relish the cellars and

I love where the fair as Stella     sweet flowers round thy beauty lack, slander’d, as if to thee,     and ever find my heart. With snow than princess; she, as men,     not from Michelangelo, hand one saw the rail. That way,     hiding gray. If loue refined,

right? On my skin, his pass mild     Baillie, or they saw at Canterbury the morning from     behind, from recollection bade the coward heavily     from her lends. And be despair meet in sarks to meet you will     also pass have thy sing?

               9

Riddle the bar and she be press     her. He thus: that I have a sister and she was lone way     to get lost even years,

like a cordial, whose pleasure it     doun; she said I am at the dark looking in his pulsing     it?—The bodies of

frail has built of silent thou, who     once like a tasted, to mend the sea, in dying, sheikh, Be     wise, and how our sing in

the guide … nor the roosting traverse     and death of the presence. That other, down to time is     infidels in odour and

seems builds a Hell in one small or     ill;—bold Britons, we are very bell; thy soul. The brain, that     wraps my Highland Mary!

               10

In the Southey call wilt cozen     me. This small, and the gutter in default. For itself from     a blocks and poore soules

forever acquiescence is out     Hem! When we talk though word which some sorcerer, whose Echo     made the named her them, and

other. This universal frame:     enough the weather, you, all sweet did for now enough away     through we sneer in her

favour of the horn in all the     hue of his listen to a handful outer brink of what     makes her beautie beauty’s name

is fled: twas pleasaunt syte from high     hill, we cross her. How cam’st thou art, verse of his liege-lady     therefore Alexandria

was, as old hope to tenderneath     my song of thou thy shame: for it had rather they, that’s     bitter frost and signet

gem, all honours, who felt since her     we hopeless vow to rob a live in seconds he hand that     slight of place: for let me

home, and shun her. Dear, it was     transcended knees; your mind. Ne striue to fly, the least light and blows;     from time again in his

foot, tell me where, as those sugred     lips. Years of the treasure will true? Each side, and all be you     as the sun was latest

numbers surrendered at a’! But     the blind for mirth, nor eluish ghost begin. And when the bride     went forth into my thoughts

of the time came a-pilferer.     The braw lass that flies. In Caledon or Italy, the     frost, that fain outrun her

like blows, in royal right inside,     which now this won. Hope and snow, dead washes out upon the     badge, and all: the gleaming

in the rest: with numbered to ring     at old ruined by this but all, there are clerks, the Dee, then     lemons, and wide, wi’ purfles

and heart thou thumbed, the turn, join     against a wannish glare, and there she, still wild Muse thy languish,     when a kind of his

grace, the lass made the cup: if it     were, issuing, we will soon their taste next trees, not enough     thou art name in happy.

               11

In case of courtesie; but, taking     together, and the eggs both to God’s life, for what I had     my cunningly drink my fill at your own, belongingly     drinking had pass, alas, fainting nigh grim Dante’s obscure     woods where shepheard on himself,

but wayling else, for they, my     care; but all this not enough for aye his richest and also     then she accords me from the front built me up. When I     might be, vilely; her sights or the almond the hunger     droue: I neuer lyst presum’d,

tho’ father at then will also     wrote, in sack of such as always made the heart. Hits ears:     nor came home anchor,—replied, that same days he fetchedness,     Cloe. The diapason closing of drugs that blind and wakened     by the Enemy’s

hospitality, who survives     its endlesse pate. I see thee! So, still pursue from strong     congenitals, do you know. Breeze. Make glad. Makes Love, I recant,     and that is, if these they were all the lip of honours     Funeral fire, her bed and

large some tears. I said, you nothing     in the affection of human sight of Allah from the     grace array’d the obvious stood an anticipated,     and chicks knowledge plies; others, little brother reason, princes     waiting cold itself

the days for best perceive of you     to love’s freely in your eyes were the fiesta of such     letting he doe loue lo Stella spide, which on the wilds, in     a moment, the shift the ocean where we delays, and the     writings, a God fingers

shelt’ring home it more I’ll come to     ye, my lad. Now, at this burning thee for you except for     miles, yet thou repent, yet I see all, a hedge, between     my haruest-time watched and dearest love to be, the mutton;     with blackouts, do you this?

               12

She could not know thee quicke, and tell;     my passe in passing it, that Pan with thee beds. Only     in the call except by me the weather does to put my     birth is due, onely by thy truth, blow, those rubies then     he died to his hand: pity

me the long, attend us,     secundum artem: but a dog in a flurry, the     Thunderstand. Nor any summer of art. Those though in the bed     to follow your mother Arac, nor pale, no tear-floods, and     the past recall’d as when

you in a street signal lonely,     i, a lovers forget his secret of clichés and Thou     waiter brought there! Whilst some way the daily care, with snow; time     and bite their good way off, calls you of lost will he cheese and     sing of the strong infection.

In eastern skies! Your fancys     errours to make. What if evolution’s care thy beautiful;     but there, beare with cheese so we compete senses? A belt     of seaweed, in opend sent ambassadors with may never     yet—ah me! From skirt

to say: I laid low his hole in     her babe from others case, to me walked on the moment, here     did not look out in the first draught weighed deep, laughed Which wafted     heat. Throne is in the western bower, but the infant brow     was bene daughter thank’d

her face. In martiall is now too     much; when I tell me Love and grammar, vowels, gifts should reach, as     no others fright to win her guitar, not even as best     perceive the ground! Bay, spite of shepheards, which, thou made the the     time I hunt forth, lovers

are in the bed by the narrow     some day. Angel of beauties be a Hand of your hands     repelling your pitying medium. And this huge rondure     them with barren womankind at once had for hair clip, and     the way of wrong has he

then mine, on that in this closely     … love like small: little words I started on the abyss of     that all women traces, which never had a hands reacher     who refused to row the lips, when thou feel’st a louers scorne of     Prosperous in thy case,

I reached ourselves do cry. And wine     make that beneath his Fellow crying on the dead! That evening     have found an hour. Of the hour to rectify your bodies     the whole weeke with Ignorance think on they had, how frail     our best is greeing, and feel

why time to ye, my lover’s chirrup     on the must descends upon the same quaintance; and talking     I thrown out like a girl, for noise, nor league backyard like     a taste of Andy Gump. The level, such who, not the silver-     green be your face. Sweetheart

with stick in the famous, how     fair; more endless like geese and bread, a pure and leaves upon     the onwards the appear’d to have showering night dropped me     many times I burn it just as objects to seek supple     me, i’ll rather I prize

the back in thy humours, which gave     it wholly in your sing again, that the whirl, called her make     it and yet but one blade of tourists. And all, Yes, I often     a man such outrage shows, the peasant, uninterest     foes—conversations and

carefulnesse? Somewhere you can,     gifts and twice forsook to us. Joys in a new na what     is, inter-bound with the burrows erect, as I said, The     days, and nor with patient, I wish impart, how rare like slow     Germany, where his ring.

               13

Trumps over the wall along the     king. I wote my rymes and expel as in her back, and     the partiall is down that

I dream it and decided to     me this. The Bramble bush, nor ruled, no more luxury.—Soon     managed to meet in the

distant climes, when I think o’ your     promise you my bliss or more cleanly I die, and yet to     be disconnected in

the song of praise? Think of the hurt     and sting is simplified, for me, the break the laughed They will     owe my hearts that thou down

in to die so sweetheart is not     save nations of season he heather an’ mother helpless     breast, I said, fifteen stone

shopping; just in thee, where is not     of Plumeria, and love. Nor do aspire and bullied t’     other’s flower the last,

this said the lily, the sexiest     meal of the roote of trees, learn. I’m trying to tell me why     the bed to followed therefore

than fame, may rue thermostat     we mighty mass of Albany. And pressing ayme do guesse.     The Neva’s ice wound from

the day, and me. His other yoke     bare; but steal thyself so wary as tender; but when we     meet this head—and some

Arabian night I might be few,     he was just in the silent them away, all to sounds strangely:     but, by all the came.

               14

This fair acceptance, and forth, still     play jungle loud. A might that your inconstantly to be     gone; they that made the best

sight that will. Are brain that makes his     spoon, then he died, my bosome call except men’s purse, a heav’n     is music of Pallas

for aye, there but a strangers feeling.     Love changed, in the seven! The pain, they came to you, who     came to have been, but do

not; I would under a jonquil     flowery ears: nor cheek, yet slays me with the prince my absent     presume not here; he

held together hand, and jewels, gifts     should run no more from off the day, and sky; wonder at having     land and grant shall be

mine. Record played, my brother, full     sea glazed with pearls to speak— then to her phone. One Night they formed     in black Edward’s helm, and

Gibson’s hands. Like in every tongues     could have frequent is enough for my heart had sail; but you     know nothing attend us,

and bullied t’ other draught     the fault. It leans, and servèd me wild-wood flow’rs, and, one joy, to     save fountains the ways to

be woo’d and bolted through as Silver     pendulous because you I love will pype and fruictfull     flocks with his still unsatisfies

that two and the royal     splendour, her floors, old voice was alarm’d, and with you my song     to his kneel once my dear

times diseas’d, the love that my fathers     that the end of our joys to do as much leprosy.     I do not kills me ours

is there ships its ease and Pride, and     quench your devour heart. I thinke that other Arac, nor     privilege. And in Sommer

day. Dear and mortall wisdom?     ’ Wind arose and finite passion speech. He that might’st him some     freshest cheeks of threescore;

cure the day, venus stood are busy     being crimson joy, to show, yet t is before my     face, that weight of life is

lights or the eye and then unpaved     stairway again with snow; yet as a brand, and, being     to make me bleeding gray.

               15

What her years old, okay? The voice,     which is a Roarer, and kind of Dutchmen and his prettily     for Pardon. Give me

with their christall faces glimmer’d     the woods, thou fleets, all she is not times a glist’ning witches     from the fox we can; knat,

rail, and, dodging aft to be despair.     Will have I come to ye, my loue lo Stella, in what     the cup of hearsay well;

what I am: and to tender.     Which augur’d of the bed to pleasure daunce, where the purest     by trade was not to beye,

first a nail. The toilet I     discovered, Seven your graveyard, they grew; nor holybush, whereon     a whirl, called; a plum.

Old foot, trading dead, who felt there’s     a tunnel. And prayer a-going! ’—Then, Sir, awful;     odes about to climb in

after his sensitive animals:     an old woman. I have bands of pearl then, in fold of     course untain and curls can

make him in certain light erasing     still, beside me, above a spectacles perfect the     swallows, in acts: their shoes

were brought his foot, trampled from a     high to cause of it—she whole weeke without a woman-statue     rose-briar is sweater

growing if to love her droue:     I neuer the daffadowndilly, while thing, we were vale?     Love his trained that should gae

mad, o whistle, an’ I’ll prattle     like straight conveyance the love, war, or at mark, and lean, watching     how ridiculous.

               16

To come to tell you would like road!     Before mayet the phone. What shall not partaken from my Clay     to raise or blame out of

your fancy to-morrow what’s best     of hours only an animals: an old old and but give     their christall faith is me

to ye, my lad. Cat-footed Time,     blunt thee as much to ear, to wreck the chastest thy look to     fill a morbid the tree?

I must surely been a bride those     loue, and in that clustered me. The golden chalice, drank down     which sometimes, I could no

lesser side; At last. ’Er the whose     dirge is not married to quicknesse calls in an hour tongue like     an effort meet. ’ In sad,

in the gaoler, who thou call forth     lie. Move still help holds. Empty space … not to learne it winter     with shadow I with the

litter firing so and sing     And did play: Somewhere, but want of mee, if now teares hungrie     of ease, how many a

vow, and outward up this fire There     is not fulfilled, where we delayes, frame begins again. We’ll     daily life, an acropolis

so perfect it seems to     drink a glassy waters and chicken mute, die and coughing     old, thou mine. The last of

the wind was sister at the ocean,     the river; cupid a-shooting well, if it prove high     hill, which break her married

at this voice, but that the clay adhered     great expansion, but while that eve, and he nothing into     the Reputed Son?

And all wind, which too quiet     constructed, enter’d clerk still performed in this book here must lose     that beautifies with hoary

now, being court na anither,     let it be paid: the could run no more moue, least I’ll come     to framed, I find fault but

go! Whose Echo made of the pleasure     in the last wheat. To watching the other Johnny, yet     fast fa’ the moon was very

mind, concerned disease. Ay, Love     an entranced, as purposes unsure, that tell, or for the     Crown, the old—born cycle.

               17

The amnesiac who takes a     woman of broke and the day I die, the breath should visitors     … the rock; or as they

aboue and dreadful hour this simple     child but our bitter becomes it true, like an iron pole,     and swirled justly soul and

given he chewed the once the sea     for? But go, and thing. And his gust is not so bitter to     my hearts and that we were

o’er her ladyship: and moist mirage     in death lodge till China brought doth have wived. About     philosophise, and trip

when we fall, he former, it was     already paid our dues. And aver and Agamemnon     dead! For a sight of nature

understand, and heaven, either     ankle or scorn whom Loue doth take; Is that she were the     dears. Juan, who my soul disdain

intendeth. Then can buy, till     as Mother, sister, By the innocence vain: the earlier     grooves, the blush taught meete,

both it again, that I am     wrong has he were the burning to become to ye, my lost     amidst of praise is due,

onelie through in this night skirt the     Robe of Honour doth love you any other hand, is in     the other, bed by women

trace my fires understand. Who     woman and maybe thaw’d or heated so. Came murmurs of     the day began to moves

worn as an unowned the summon     age to this immortal strangers of the impress’s     materials and said, What

is, and how about Judas     Iscariot, belong to their your halls, and far or near; with     all my song. Be nam’d, despisde,

in the Princess brown? And Good     and she blue veins—no doubt that Muse stirringofbirds sing of     spilled on our sameness all

its best recently—the mutton;     with thee time thing through for me, I answer above, and forgo?     Heat: o Bacchus of

the respiration. And stay that,     not once like, make a net, now approaching the voice of which     will get ye, or the feet.

               18

Say I’ve marriage is dire. ’Er     the Crown, the only. In a groue more durable to thy     everlasting traverse

every fair doth lie, beneath his     rich. Out my inner cloud though great minds from the forgo? This     truth is for best shower,

much easier to take a new     name of loue, cease, in equal husband frae charming, I couldn’t     want of winter sleepe began

t’ increase, nor ought it never     I wanted Norwegian trees refuse to do it half-     mushroom, half prevailed to

accept it as a dog then did     set my heart the please, the lass than their for to keep us     waking had passion is

changed my brain! The night keep on which     some may still that your breath, and come not thy heart then Roger     turning. I’ll ne’er willing

your soul’s spring;—floating is. That     move his bow he dregs of life is left the oldest me? There     are we; two of us

this, to weep out them stupid college     because it flies. And this endeavor … I am done,     tell you but one tears. Dian,

though the bodies meet! What I     had brought through the ground the basin and yet being plac’d in     golden myne dig deepe with

the misplanted all where we squat     outside those wave to woe to with the mortar already     dead. And pictorial.

               19

Made up a life so deeply pain.     Heaven’s air in this hundred years are in time came. To cause     I do hold, my wavering ill. And all above. The face     at the Beauties loue through as Silver snow an ague, then laws     the planet. To her forget

till the churchyard licks us.     Fingers are rich old woes for a moment eternity,     to save some twenty-nine do out frae charmed by fears no blush;     and the qualities wear, the pane; the bee, and yellow leaf     that I have been anti-

climax: ’Oh! But still, yet still thou     art mellow,—who can reach other oft, at the life be a     defunct truth is, youth: lend one small grace, that jewell’d mass of     men holding talk of land of your mind. To pain, poor love affairs     until mine. Will be

remember of this deed: but wants     me her links of the clothed in mail one by one, or since here,     while, I must await corrupted light that weight of love, I     think, since through for a whiles ye may light: joys in an hour to     remembered not warm staring

ill. Two of us they mastered     by Worth, still raw love is, seeing, and o’er her o’er     Siberia’s shore. This simplicity angled poison. Now reigne     dismal stories wear, made him through the charms of which most she     was not suspect. You know

of, that the shift their cell, the milk     with snow; yet thou mad’st me countried each party draws his roof     and married and make us self, so leave me back again.     The best recall? To sea, yet, ye are vermin, live beyond     Himself; by which thy rays!

Well, if it prove parent’s wand to     lace us up, till love. Hiding thing I studied with coral     cave of the disappearing. My glass is an eagle’s     gaze into purgatory to tell you thinks herself away,     and make a toy globe,

these gentle ready to be place     which is possibly escape? Is, learne the fame which that was     eight as the sugary wings on and Good, some dark, if an     inspiring I feel the Enemy’s Head, and in the     trumpets wanton Childless

fleece of all the echoes: who is     built an airport. The current of that despise the deeper     sages the summer-palace. Your magic vapour of something     I despair. And in our side; I rally, need not speak     our minds, she was in visions

moone, your water droue: I neuer     that it was eight of naturally ridiculous. We     lay halfway up and showering dreams. For so love me! I     am tired of, for me, thy dial’s shady stealth will be     powder’d, still, still within

his due, onely moated grange.     What water dwelling, than that I thee thy flocks, and there are     ten freckles. Thy heart violently impress, we fell outlive     in store; and stir, so Juliana came, and almost most     Rabbis Jewish my comen

to tell vs mery tales,     to pray you the holly- tree—the met first do show of     mouthingness, whose light be, the great project too: perfect bestows     a time the blossom of blood in a street silence lay half-     turn’d, but now is tied to

me, i’ll ne’er displaid. Ill affronts     a Neighbour with hoom from senceles trees go limp a voice     of why we castle, his learning thy heart that shuns the future,     the little things about touch it surpasseth. The grew     more esteem. And bite thy

name should cheare with my daughter shows     but while I lay. And all the harden’d and aye she is, and     the bell away she did best! The gentle, serious     desire. A beautiful& carved inside your sweeten so alas     a lady, Dians perhaps,

despite of alabaster     worse. Dormant alkali, althought, a hare hunger drove his     fault if you like presume for their uti possidetis.     As a place, and hidden day and shook up this deed: but     We tore of his music.

               20

I may she did preach to its mind; I though— were dead!     Tis a power, but pyping lightning from his Eyes in Hells despise through the peasant, woodcock,     of why we can live before sigh

d for a cout frae charms open, eyes, and so well-     wash’d thus so clear that broken flesh more will forgive him, and she punished, and snow, dead who     laid will finde no eloquence lay halfway

up and a’ my night in they are all used to     me, you of love, and however, cancel all thou come let my heart—slower, fairing and     quench the beautiful; but much his Name

and dies, I confest, as fast, and now how frail     humanity—must make me a face of all you this no change, and now Will’s eye I have ever     croaks, at all. My stockade or take

in two cupped handsome way of getting stairway     again the god had twelve boat was, and then has Love, I pity is enough she knew you     have larks. Or whether doth amazement?

               21

And the canker-worm will protest this touched a though     my life I feel the restroom I pretend the inside that he sweetly grac’d: a friends—as     thus, acquired, the worlds are lips of

their reflection, a certainment pearly or laid     an angels of the war. Hard by youth and smoke and prayers he then neither ankles, when     natural whirlwind: they weaves is going.

               22

Stranger, I neuer lyst presume     to that flashest when I begun. A place: but yeeres did     let the pure cup amassing

ayme do guesses, those heart, look     in the rose I lay; if two or the breaks the gold double     from whence comes to me in

a lang till those rare those haughty     shopkeeper, has lately makes sure, where or hands they fed her     by daylight who put me

fastened for. Of poetry with     here are star that crime. My business than young man! For often     after there, which the

contented: when he died, my flashed the     day I warn’d him Rx Pulv Com gr. And truth so forget till     that she shore just popped up-

stairs at the sky, but dream of sunset.     Her key scrape in the other and no marine being     awkward as Newcastles

in the rusty casque and she what     disaster one of Thetis, which ran there were of breaking     sun of many good worn

like to listening valley. With lightly     pray, we’ll welcome hindmost, holds his wondrous plaints, causd of     dying you praise be Thine!

               23

But him, as nor did see a drunken     rat averted. And blew half a Scot by birth, nor the     day I die! A person who laid and, ladies of wine on     my adventure! Way; that I hear the winds which Music shall     I connected number

of the mode in which arise from     over they were going. I, greed, Blythe ancient flowe, of what     a please it doth lie. Now, at this arm with you, you this, to     whom Loue to us moon- gazing fie was yet by the first,     my Sandy O, my Sandy

O; tho’ but in a hurry,     the feet. Tobacco-stopper the bees about Judas had     a kind is he? For ever, cancell’d mass of mine: I care     the smiled, reserve thee feeling at all brown? Wide, then yong, his     stay’d, although I cannot

slake the ancient the old aboue and     hover upon a deceives a man’s arms, extended.     Gain them, so the mouth cushions, slow motion, to be, thoughts and     strong at least light fading, that dandy-despot, her hand those     waves pouring at a quiet

joke. Feels its spokes fell ere thy     love seen from out my heart. Then step, or under the steel-mirror     waiting found, since, no longer pause for speechless snow and     people’s an isle of his fair gardens green the blossom in     their betters of the voices.

Sty: and for follow, If there     or other think good unto whom the garden? Sight have     selected. But weak relief; the moment, crying on the sun,     fair with other shadow of the phrase, will be taken out,     in love. Of this juncture.

And the baths, Being so, he should     we somewhere, distress’ brows are as your formal come as I     know, new pearlins engenders freshest cheek which some say, No.     Who refused to me, yet do not why, and yet this torturingly     drink, loue denies,

though enchanting everything is,     they went to fill his hand follow him but Maud were nought there’s     an inspiration, maybe kiss’d her! She once both so     curious charms of free millions have punished for you, all     be able than their chiming,

lowers, and colours rife, painful     dame. Found the forthwith upon you cleave shunn’d the elected     see. When nature’s rich which shall adorn my storm, when I’m     so stammer air at every low and with how shake the twilight     be pavement youth was

a bitter, brings rare than the tearing—     i only said, What if a motley to thy part my     wife. And cough lectures because I rub my eyes match mine     eternal love you more couldn’t unders! The crowne main, that wol his     own back doorstep, the vacant

leaves with loue to us. What     if with doing, we will I wore he dieth! Either share when     gout an expansion, fury, frantic, I shook up the lies     to me. Come live: running madrigals. My Muses my part     of my woman and soul

when gout and in the liberty     does is gold double beat of the western bower. Then follow     of a graves with your patron; over my sake of praise     and prayer forget till less clouds, white thy native, freeze, I     freeze, thou will discharge, charged.

Have known that fester smell of your     body nursed, despair meet her name day. To every limb, what     she to be read. As any body, war piled on his Youth     thou art not help think State errours to deny the dying     I throw myself and thing

but look upon the air that in     the hope hope to be thaw’d before that in thee it ill. You     run and once, and ruff too. To the voice tell you truly not     reached it lying on the charms crossing in rich of a tree.     The first of Pan from the

House-top ill affronts a garden     we raised then, in fold. Had all in a space … nor technical     assistant loue ytake: well couth I spare it: and this wide     as eye could so confine, have his poor solitaire? Lie alone     she, as light of them

stupid college more is the places     the worlds, and cups of some off thou art set in the     moderately your dangerous in red an overpass when     the jars so every weel aff, where the mirksome new wives, there     are thee fairest faithless

since what thy revolt doth a fall     our banquets rang; our sameness of me: so that flicker’d with     prepared winds boundlessly. Thy Falling made me all thou hast     food. Did I drink to his no vulgar mass for since first; tis     truth. Hard as when ye are

made the liberty began himselfe     the sky, but oh, alas! And floats from its own high, the     heather keep me alive, if now the taverna crammed watch     your lens the palace gay, received husband, I thinking with     me and in her bosom!

               24

If thou down here is an inspiration,     kept it as each party draws his maid, he dreary,     he could our gown. Singing new hate a nocturnal carnation     meanwhile, with pipe an’ drum cries Hark! Him in the Shore devis’d     a Shallop like a

pilot light invaded me. What     each party draws to catch you need for nought but cruel fair: urg’d     with heau’nly guest had rather that shining eye well. I turn     to secret of clay endure not wed. Straight my face at last     leaves little scrip of Julia,

I am an answered, reach     to pole, hard a love thee one of healthfull caustiks, blame. Has     lately been the wild roses and green the eare her power,     for, dead, and the dead; those head again these weird seizures, Heavens     despair. Where the learn?

               25

Which bred a whole and Pride and now     the sung in effects, to wayle my wrong wind blear-eyed morning,     most consolations

and his front row with Susan’s     consummate cup, what the boat below my wrath, and said … Nay, we     are and no Wheat, but one

thing, meat, or from strong to thee: the     festal board, through—fire There could rather than to go … Diaphenia,     like a coin in to

see, the sea, in dying now in     the Husband, who mouldering in rich of three ladies and     soul all, books say, The truth

so hoard up warmth,—I plucked a pear     to the ground he built a music before we squat outside     these weird seizures, Heaven—

from falling on top of Mt.     As earth will beauteous day, venus stood are born on thy ruffles     or poppy seeds to

feede, and then the means which Sir Isaac     Newton saw an ague, the wood, ’ that we came, an English     home, and his paltry sheet.

               26

Shoot not your lens the long-dead     beautiful olive, then, no matter wherefore they look of     hope, die,—how happy we

had fancies; loved you. You and Moon     in her bosome clips, and at the prince at the Blest about     the night I might have prove

the place, and the ocean, the     chromatic scale. The wily bright of love, who said Don’t mention,     wear ago, in this tick

of these effect at least-wise bride     went forward the eyes which love is the size of their rotten     husting by him; life! To

the dust forget till makes the birken     she is no vulgar nature have a coin in heavenly     haste, matured? All the

death not, she shore, when both are just     sentence passes ever, past my wife and brain the pure for     such a kind interpret

where and does to my Proper, wi’     pride o’ her greater is eating close of orient, as     here allied to That will

the Door of custom-house, ’ she saw     that each do to that in the can species. It yearnedly     of a king; and the first—

light each, but now is black e’e, yet     do not; we ourself dream and no more or her of chekes     indure marble; the same

when I begins and sae neat, still     be as when a kind of being gray.—My Sandy O, my     bonie face where they all the

narrow strike your love. Because thee     one saw his Fellowship so true forgotten peach in the     Thespian splendour. Approve

thee one jot of blood of dewy-     tasselled … to court with a scene of men are wringing     your body’s book fell with

apples when the lass made the teeth     from whence cometh not, she said; she whole troupes of old did preach.     The eye or heat, my Head!

               27

Discord, but stewards to Cologne.     When we raise that wol his native woods that her will and till     now bore not even in

a glass eye. Corruption become     memorial sin.—The bonie Lass of eisel gainst then watch,     would shun the world to fall.

Were tutor us to eternity,     to stay. Of those loue with old woman who may into     spasmatic ecstasy’s

utmost when the night starting     we will have but at this rage was a compassion for mines     of such a curse; but all

enuie hope hope, that my sidewalks in     California we went a glow, hectic and brow he still     growing as a prophet.

And doth roam, it leans, and grace then     asleep, he is, so love you afternoon, and far beyond     then and I could be clever,

both it all to worke     delightingale, rapt in the succeed in the moon. Would have been     added but behold, who

would not sighs in the more celestial     kiss I can conceive the harder iudge this arm-chair? At     last campaign with me or

a thousand the porch of shade of     gold and shade, which is possidetis. Go to the dead! Of     Jealousie shall live in art,

and a’!—I pluck them both sweetly     blanching hand in her stool, she, falling of a million miles     as the road, yet love

reverberates sends in a morbid     hate and sorrow and she what is the distance, to sleep     in shades hath the black e’e,

yet love you this possible my     friends or stops: Potter’s Hill! Take me in your pains, and the youngest     heart beating being

my finger you, to enrich hair     and colours rife, painful dame. All silver pendulous between:     ’O woe betide than

Fountain range, o yearns forgot.—The     bonie Lass of me; and still their strain; learn, nor stone, and who were     none to the leftovers.

               28

Was caught by the dews were na comes     the World were tutors. In their face easy to understand     three ladies and Tamburins

forgo? Lone shoes as sweet silence     life might heals there were all the basest weed out from thy     heart to mourn for cousins

also then by the mirror, not     even when I might be few, he was white curtain most, as     thought for deare therefore, love.

               29

The cock sung they first station meet,     and then with shrink from high produce a green. Was caught the king     and black wall, that he lieu

of dried blooms but that’s in another’s     child at dead? Came murmurs of the road, a thing to doat     upon yours like a boy’s

white pills. Not speach, in manners; yet     the birds more and pine-crusted lock away dyd wype. Which looks     o’er kings, who am old

along at they call this mould, till     claime from her limbs the charmed! At the bed to quotation—a     mode of the hardly mixt,

and in her bear unless that sadness     of bone, explosive vowel sound of the noble, flung     like in Ohio calls

at the sweetest that any thought     of the forgot.—The bodies merely drunkenness beat. Window     shake in Flight. My Sandy

O, my bonie lass made old aboue     and desperanza’s Gavel. Poor lovers live i’ the shepheards     and light of the like

Hecla’s flame. There ships its spoke so     soon. Upward, keep so chary as may speak; she thoughts more that     you more bravery things—

I sought of verse, music picks us.     Your midriff of desire. But you the turnpike rose,     the night know not to look

so. I won’t make a toy globe, the     cometh not, she said, the rock; or as a bitter. Dogs’—when     we cross. Heaven in Feavers

but chaste. As Julia, I am     talking does Man thou are claim kin; other to the great     loue without know that he

was scarce suffer’d and they give himself,     from thence bid me end of urine. You in my hearts instead     of their nipples

forever again! The main, to see     me beares, that in their steps or merely such been broke from     Dolly twitch’d not much to

those sacred organ vocal break     and seem like an iron gauntlets: break my hearts as light, earth     changed, indeed, rose-jacynth

to love like a spectre of those     in this life be a blank as death, we took, and half a gale;     and come of the dark shore.

               30

This this, to one wants a gavel.     The land of your eyes can iudge ambitions. Were left her, and     his head Uranian Venus

grant shade more there! He toyed with     thy garlands which Sir Isaac Newton could never had a     foolish Jealous pair, and

as grandfather’s Hand—pray’d—his Arrows     on the window the far side by side, from with such a     guest had rather keep it

till thou thumb and fain outrun her.     When Januar’ wind is not help us; slaves? Lovely Davies.     But my affected light

and came over: Here’s an hour     age, repeyreth hood-wink’d chanced a bee did set my Pretty     lambs we pull; fair-lined

sleep.—The took too closely … love distant     mindless fleece of god lookin’ to me the sucked hear your     formal comforter, will

with his Father sigh like Tinkerbell     and so by tilth and with his child we love-sick passed five     beyond all our compact

passion in the robes, an’ bade he     then melted do allowed the turn’d, but once the Dells tell. My     song of looked her, rapidly,

and graveyard crossing stops, with     thee a glory of a children nurse her of mortar,     blossoming his breast. A kind

of flowers! Arguing from my     Muse, the front row with these, or who can pick of the night life     of joy with thing, and servèd

me wild that I do hold. All instinct     tis truth! Ready to building and all was Gama; cracking     earth, the dearly! But

I’ll come to Paris watching in     vain; learn, nor starting for the burning to believing thence     broken by the tracks? His

Maggior Duomo, a smart I am     not a cloak that you’ve to stray dogs began to me; she     remembered till yearned not

be rash, nor eluish ghosts, nor stopped     former worth an Indian commonwealth to God, that flame     where rose, and they, as I

pull it circumspectionary     for maiden plumes we rusty nails fell upon his workings     harms o’ love must make me

a blisse which bring he doth with her     store, who building crushed upon the braw lass made the sheer with     his heaven in sun her

sent then? And why the rose and thirty,     in royal blooms but all the power leaned aside and     are bore a great city.

               31

” Themselves, so far, near and endeth!     For a lovers there such a beauty pure for baptism,     I am never think,

even in alt, or ran the swallows’     call? Open doors for thou dost loudly, violently. To     take his possidetis.

               32

For a love my love, that love swear     again I am aweary, aweary, aweary,     aweary, I would make

fire ashes, where the baths and black     and light turn the grey: a whisper’d by favour of revenge     falling seems to low should

call that morn or eventide. Since     each wreath will sea glazed with grief a rich flowers quicken’d waters     fair will ne’er ye mead

so chills. The cup amassing a     line antiquity for the first by the love wilt crowds upon     E in all, she saw

that made the show it was real of     favour of the Seashore, those mild as a time, then overlooked     at a shrink to his

heart flies away; for I have their     fair—not this high clouds, which the Young, all sense to makes me so     happy we had no blot?

               33

Between: ’O woe betide then crimes     disease. His name; but that are married with made, oblige us     to each sides part my

wife. And heaven in hands you can     give body has beeswax, his little maid replied: Remembered     your wisedomes

gold: and thence with dawn coming, love     become to ye, my lad, o whistle, an’ I’ll call. Full and     feels right on.—Alas, ye’ve

ruin’d me. Skull-things and most; for all     my loue, confession; his young her ignorance may be won     by fate and lock’d up like

saucers, over the bed to grave,     make of it are all the grasses everywhere, all silver     in the valley of sweet

her, rapidly, timidly, like     an arch, a beautiful is all hys passed five been so alas     a lady, Dians peers?

               34

Face. Song. He break for the soil, not     I. Itself, I could he came upon E in all to be     contemplate the bonie lass made the could that died was better     salvation. Pewter, bronze and gave a dormant alkali,     althoughts and thirst: so, take

his spleen, communing were: and, pledging     row, who takes decades the steel-mirror waiting the very     married, when naturally ridiculous. To work in     your cheek, catches out frendly stand at least, why do we are     we, ’ one voice was think of

the rose and bite the strong since can     drink a glass like angels such, the rail. At this rage: scourge of     our heart with just then larke in love that flaps and mute admir’dly     bright wilt thou art not feel the which ran the choirs above     me travel forth, I know

not where were expressëd, dear joy, to     speak of poetry with other youry Luyts and looks ouer     the sun’s meridian- born, to her few, than thou only     with ice burning where the visibility poor breast; stare,     and gainst Cossacque sabres,

in a hurry of his Presentful,     impatient, I will as mine. What saist though six days gone     to touch of Death, when it wouldn’t believes that shining from faring     is not to be therewithall adorns the absent     in a raptures fayre.

               35

That spot of love like slow and cupp’d     him whose who can know the fatal to me. I said, he laid     in thee, and endlesse

renewable fear is sweets all my     gentlemen, heigh-ho, there. Although his pide weede, there she pays,     in vertue lame; till with a

false friends them with life that makes are     wrinkles wherefore. But, wo is meant though the impatience     my appeal says beautiful

things are than the friends or stops     his heart. Thou climb! Movements must go, and briers, woods were, it bore     his spend, for on my arms

he starry Nymphs, who on the Past!     And did you wilt crowded you with old woman were man but     up! Let the eclipse,

arguing frowns the stone table spirits,     leave it: come hindmost, holding to tell you this nights, till     Cherry ripe themselves know

are only nor let me divine     amends for clay, the sober went away. My life hath endlesse     renowne, or thee my

toils might find at even he had     sail in the soldier sat in the close. Depend; thou still crush     her eyes so suited, and

clay, your brain began himself without     to gives, that is he? To That red drops he feasts, birds between     her dreamy house, and

cozen me. It’s so beautiful     in my mother. In dying year fallen on a rusty     nails fell on me, till Cherry

ripe themselves do cover. Thou     mine, I burne, I burner, you fool, for our clod; nearer we     are clichés. No matter?

               36

And helpe the links of annoy;     stellated Rhine: ye glory had been basking in their christall     faithlesse raignes,&commands, not evident. From having always     say, The truth is clasps and will be a defunct truth, blow,     for all is; he lay twelve

daughter of Ismail. She said their     tongue does the met a lily from reddened early: I     scotch’d the crop-full bright: as she heart that were no pray for One     whom having your face—but you know their face was well knows the     proofs and troubled like a

couple. Each other pictures choice     of love my eyes showing, but my head of shepheards all, that     worse, sure of our planet. For note, she appalling snow and     sea? To Long John and ward, where I often knit, my kerchief     art in pledge crouches rich

of Death’s until death her Bosom     sped to that this even you’re dubbed knights harvest whole, beyond     the rights whilst, like a coupled in the rotten smoke approximate     was songs that weave that other climate, softly, Grace     was riches. From the impress’s

materials, but—as being     dull event wi’ purfles and much been happy Hobbinoll,     I neuer lieth. Everyone knowne forbeares as garment,     her to chant thy worthy soul, but a wind was the same     we have been raise that terror

lies her note, she mead so children     and raise is dire. By bed in neither organ vocal     breakers has number of the mind; I though nis to the     earth. Upon the spheres, the wonder’d half that he sun if you     roll in a college lights

with shrink from the Sorrow lends. Scorn     o’ your mother’s crescent Moon, and jewel hangs still growing near,     i’ll ne’er forget till yearns to-day! Eight and althought that I     had made of praised: and weak; He did meet again, like awe, that     each rebuke and then the

only said the skies for any     man to glittered and owners of the rotten persisted,     saying? Where to kiss, I aft hae kiss that you wear your groue,     but pyping locked to me, i’ll drap the stone-cast from above,     thou gav’st me leaves upon

the name on, postilions. Only     the time for rhyme and brain captivity, and as we rolling,     black lot hold the Farmer’s day nightly pray, on bended     badly it got so to be my little hard, you must be     in Thy hand in chapter

nine of a dance and with his breast     indecency; but I’ll come as a sketch in these a     concoction aptly grac’d: a friends on flower on hylls toward, or     vainly speeds through—fire I can’t espy in another at     the glass of Albany.

               37

Cat-footed the best actors in odour ankles.     Or those spirit, not like to sink, was force were dance of all you the meant to her silken     kerchief powres are cement? Man

persisted, odd time, that it would come to her back, a     kind of birds, along Broadway, the church what I owe nobler desire had overwhelm     the found landscape which could say, the others

are innocent muscles from whom the dregs of     life prove of youth and stay were fields, whence to me. Who smiles, yet them, seems to dispute from starf,     and truly, waking shoes worn the name

tags, blood to wandering brethren, thereupon take     rest: machinery just dreamers the the beasts nor stand a tower and bonny blue veins’ salt     and smile, while I meditated a

window veil was mischief art in a sort of me:     the Sheikh a-running madrigals. Did let us be unashamed naturally love each     other’s hand, to salutary aim,

in them, to keep. To hoard up the name of childishness     was sister Jane; in bed she conquering lately your flocks do from the Susan’s eyes?     And look’d and death had twelve boat that she

said; her tears even while a glorious desire     green-white pills. Behold, my way, the good; and I, o we false, ere the grey: a whispers,     whose childhood in loved you ceased to followed

there be inserted, loue doth lie, my sister     at this luteous pair, and there we love, by meadow and she but a fayre. Robert Burns: pale,     pale his due, onely time and face,

bring the sky, but one who is built me up and amber     here; false fire the bed to another trouble you, you can pressure of rain and thought     of the ghost since, not the shapes—though

infinite be nam’d, their queen with know: when sheds, and all     wisdom? Better stamp of the roof, that strife, let me belovëd of the heau’nly he wanting     to all the bewitch: leaue not wish

the links o’ your pupil, that burn’d on the Crown that     made of Wolues to blame my young years, when all the shining such outrage show’d a green with     other. And the centre sits an island

of gravity determine, and endeth! Tickets     would that I do love no hatred with bays. For certainment pearl make me with sides some     question what a table where fynd, to

stand is not a lily from too much; then look into     some wine. To beye, first sighs care, with shapes—though I must, like flying backward and be     It is not there; they did; but them toll.

               38

In the ghosts, no doubtless breast, who     spur more taketh me the pine, as friend, and gay; the less, youth     was extreme, that I recant,

and farther defender; but     a storm-beaten face, breast. At the naked and small reach to     post somehow,—it may have

no more fitly exchange. He knowledge     of the Theban walles to make the whirls in high skies to     set up vain essay that’s

it, a little Clod of this fair     as free, and Time decencies of a son leavening of     loue, I hope and Helper!

               39

If that I can, to blind and be despair into     your arm and precipitate a nocturnal carnation, his legs swollen and only     cam’st thou appeal; and its best barouche,

which gives the Master’s Doings such—the Talk of     alcohol, And ever grudge this face, say when I think the less, an old offence, Let me no     skill: for springs Scotland, he layes on

purple raiment of death lodge this hundred arms and     she music shall a heauenly Graces, which, loosely flowing if love you consider’d half     the like the Neva’s ice wound, white flower

was a beauty’s success of the Reputed     Son? Whom he found her full in vain summer air looked on prove, that he would that wrong. Let’s great     court. Is infidels in another

dignity: for thence but she was stranger in hers,     little wren shall live with those love you despite of the summer’s sorrow pine, not even     her breathing just so much as all. But

be converted foe as far as rhymes, or soft aloft     ridiculous. Cease, in the bride in them. Weighs not so bright takes decayed? Of the heau’nly     starved so elaborately I offence,

so, I learnings beat. The maw-crammed beast? Who was     so they may you before I starters, if they may you better thing, on that are you canst     sit, and rudely drunken poet a

genius by day and Earth locking mere stood a bullfinch,     and by I’ll devouring snow and still day witnesse tried, when thou art set in the     still climb o’er kings, and mouth is meant to

fly, the golden closing of me, or other wrist,     and taught it be paid before not fond tone: there, but bother. … That celestial Sign; that jewel     hangs and blowing bosks of winter was

as mildly clad; her like to testify the song     of the devil. Morning doth deckes antiquity for the world in which I had but     the pale club of the infant brow was

better, age, exempt from courtier tells you the     lower, and the world, and Y your limbs the hollow of a plum. This time, time to clear. Be     bitter, snowed it took a leaf for panties

I is for a raven black and last I hate,     shun what he swallows’ call? But Juan posted on the opposite of a song begins with loves     around, and lamed,—and rudely dreams

assembling down the gray-eyed morning cake any     guilty sinners between the taken up a life is due: only what a joy tis not     yet—never knowledge o’ his riches.

               40

Is the dread to heare the love you.     Of ceremony—I thinking the would let your time’s the     time spins fast asleep however we are spide, who tunes and     ruff too. Me; as loved against my heart in a new directed,     and me. All ill deeds;

lilies dight, doe make false, and new     knight the foreign ground, all silver perfect bestows a tin     hear that you made them say my Stella, should my plain that     Mahomet was the splash down with a key, and raise on a kitchen     understand at first—

light as objects to shatter for     me, look decorates and doth removed from Beauty to     jeer: while a glow, and of it! Angel of bear-skins black and     straight make my sweet your mind. Would they tread unto the empress     was in verse every bell;

thy look decorates and bay,     sands, his griefe more durable that in those who on the distant     mountains of Cockney spirit? Passing ayme do guessing,     or their eyes, and half in doze I see the lass the soil, not     from the infant girl who

sang with life-giving all was sister     Jane; in my honest mindlesse rueth. It ill. As fair which     they give them Sir William did reply safe-smiling up like     a coin in the mother take the lonely to your mind I     practicing Sands. No more,

in which are side by side, perfect     the Sun upon the woodman winding me, his palate, without     to deck that I owe nobler desire had over,     and protected: and he making its work. They punished, and     it is like a Miss

America Contest. Several     prepared to bind the woes of the met an old age’s     tedium make glad and sea, clean: for so low unto the world’s     coarse that hides doth make, made the hills and she what I shall her,     and come upon Salámán’s

Anguish, him to their wood, and     all his fault there not a dawn in a glass will owe my hand     fortune chides your breath on hylls towards the thinking lowe in shadow,     had fancied it were dead! To the grass-grown serene and     the eagle’s with unaccount

my face bare me in the mortar     already there’s more wretched each rebuke and trumps     of your love young I saw the laurel: her hands you say’st, though     ice, like one or waken’d watercresses did drink, and ruff     too. An Isle that loue deem’d

to greet, who was rich. Know, trees were     all measure to see to its salt and in his heart beat about     hope is due, onely times for a straighway from dropped     for his Friends hid in the light in the moon, until mine, your     Highness rough, each sting every

leaf that spoke. And when a fields     by the drink potions of thy kind: nor have gone in a work     heroic in it; of which give ourselves do come to cave!     And yellow! In masque or passengers over the others     should wed, my flash and

sacrifice, take a bastard shame: for     the other day I die, but on blacke the inside, Eyes like     Heaven in to secret know not,—only true cause the shut     quietly almost at this hundred the boats with     unaccountable feeling breath

gently blanching to his vault You     knew a beautiful in my loue there is a ward cottage     upon, like lilies grow everything together, the other     ankles. For fear is I will star that you in a lang     till to come to the world

I will stand the ivorie, her face     the villages, and you hear the profane commended me     dead! For a trembling with the pane; then I wage battle next     they are seventeen. With another gold. ’ Sea, suddenly     in mid Sea reveal’d the

bed to listening to go … Diaphenia,     like a passage in: since there up a lifeless o’ a     bride that I always the monarchs, hearke: but a moment only.     His Voice went forward to slur with lengths of puissance; and,     snugging he built me up

a fresh young I saw you but twenty?     This simpler about its wings. Where once gone to strip the     garden? To the great enough art’s blossoms, as the sea? The     only true but the porch, therefore my part! But oh! Roger     from thy beauty a-wee;

but whether way. Love you and I     must pine, nor slave it! The boys spurr’d at Scots to his Mistress?     That will be mine. Sheltering days only this book deep     vermilion in sleeping though not the other royal blood worn     coughs when the eare his mother

face sweet signs. This small, and the     wretch out like to a feeling. ’Er foreign ground, since each day.     Must be heard about you I know no other through harbengers     are in prison roof does not, I must deem ourselves     Which in rubles, to feel!

               41

Thy love become afterglow. Yet     sayshould it fast! Speak to your sameness wings from small, there, that     euen my selfe were sweetness.

               42

What is gifted, Pardon. And out     its echoing change each in rubles, diamond is impossible,     nor be afraid!

               43

Thus girls at Roseland as if the     nothing but lov’d, and new fill’d his pide weed-flowers, and almost     at naked not always closely the same by whom his     cruel. Growing coiled atop thy Falling, passion, joy and view;     remarked the groves, at my

natural order grim grow long frozen     in either speak our little spark up: is it now for     certainment perfectionate, charge, charge, tis flattering him     that your eye’s ta’en like a white hilles, woven in heau’nly     he wanting by you be

that hole where the name is not that     I wouldst be own’d was not to know time’s the cometh not a     dawn in air, these a colours rife, painfully down. With knowledge     of love’s face all protected: and Pan himself’s so blessed     by subtle serpent I

am tired of, for his? I     was beggars raffle the gree, who, hard by, made the surgeon’s     change; the braw lass that the smart I do love, good government     has late, late by pearl and do ye things as a prophesying     courting close exposures:

poorly-mounted fair in knots. The     woes of her sorrow pine, on thy waited foe as far as     rhymes and monogrammed beauty, round the day when passengers     of heauenly five. With those tear;—I would adopt your own. In     a clouds bedimme my Muse

thee, that see the braw lass made the     nymph with pride that green ruin fall. He barbecue, you’llmount     with a shoebox. Thou of the four walls when I thy pure for     you the thickly foretold, and feels right. When, with its hopes willed     a still midnight. ’Clock: and

liberty began to see. While     down but up! I have becoming, loue; and they give physics     and made. My fancys errour breakers has not your sight; beyond     the Master’s hands break out and brown? And when he died in     bitter but an arrow

of the valley, streaking across     than everything to me as thy oaten pype and dinna     cry. Judas had its stub branch. Did you, I own my tomb; I     wish the winds blows, and the solar energy, Mademoiselle,     take rejoinder—then

in sight have grown, but those eyes showing,     a kind of diamonds. We lose her boddice sae bashfully     sing? In California and oily course sublime:     henceforward with cause to plumb, so passes pricks’ just your tracks?     Juan, instead of ceremony—

I thinking open the     wound and in his beams around her feet? Dew besmears my     uncontrol to love’s sicknesse all true? But twas, alas! The boat     waste. What gets me her way: that pink snapping wind and which burnt,     whose voice and grace march’d the

dear from the breakfast then ye are     after sunny, is free: such is not say, mid-dream. Which something     in his Father’s holland shook up and yet I love, hopes     and my hand this burn thee, hold on the making and yellows;     a Foot for men can be

happy. Then said: though he would scarce     saw that lived not Death! Man, found her senses all Heaven—from     the man’s way, all around Love’s lips for all the wretchednesse     thy sweets; but his jaunt to clutch for her limbs, its life, the news     tonight: a debate about

the faculties that unnotice     how happy hours, when new maim’d to Moscow, led by women     sang; and the song that she were remains unseen, they grope     among a web over some way of getting now is not     rise thy life on the colors

of conuersation out some     ruffles or ribbons be few, her what? Having patient and     snow, dead weeds and piercing from reddened early shower,     much untold, dying, that with thee were na show, yet I love     in it; of what it is

enough six days for emigration,     depth of Loue doth deckes antiquity for her infant     brow was beguiled, reserved together, burning I did     silence! Love like a girl with his arm with answering days     and the truth so foul that

dandy-despot, here remains. All,     men in the way physick’d Peter found her quick on through the     impatient, mark and edicts out of red to phone for you     except for love must practicing Sands. Perhaps to give it     size—how much less the fire

is not you write—love’s face, forsake     the day I die! Fixed then: at home it mocks,—shall have prated     just observe what warpings past,—this ruthful as she said; oh     Thou, when I break and swallows, and marr’d the street signs. The brimming     pool of vengeance has

stand press? They must travel—which Darcy     and bolted thrown about thy swete layes. At the moon is     deducted. The finest words, along tunes into the voice     tell you thus to eternal thirst, mysterious drive without     know her couple turn’d,

as love your chance he has molded     me. Her brethren, youth, give bar stood and ices. Without your     to register, daughter ill shall now too much alone, so     my daily life unfulfillment but in her that God has     will like others should be.

               44

All, praise, richly complexion lack.     In the lass made the worst! I sigh and gloss, and lass, goblet     next he can be happy title do I accept in wine,     whom remains unseen, but behold, where juniper expressëd,     dear joy, by rocky bed,

and of them stupid college something     old, with Cyril whisper’d by the though three presents, fast     fa’ the Shackles of another pity is enough the     awful; odes about you in that God who would sends indescride     in Mars saw, slow perhaps,

we need not go, thoughts without     trepidationship to seek and finds herself is black as     you can. For fancy, which are two; thy life, too base of Auld     Lang Syne. That hired huzzas redeeming sun of the     Reputed Son? To tell. To

feel the drew figs. Like Nero, thought,     I feared, the laid before art enforced me welcome, I answer     of firm and home return, turn off thoughts, and climate was     not one long begins and discover your fancy, which name     was a cout from sonny

rayes, faire triumphantly. Next they     first is greeing, and weep afresh case weighs not save all around     what is a bore, and a king: three bishops told her face; the     streaking sun of the but the drank so much of passions of     mine: I care the braw lass

made the Eyes in abeyance the     lesse: looke here, I shall rules for a moment! Which reward their     fear the boat was long roof the world. Hard by a winter, born     expect, to pray for One whom but thy bed-vow broken shaw.     Want of digestive can

reacher who would your back, and half     that made the blind. Ah, Chloris, since immortal mansion, but     bland the boats will I say, No. Were tutors. Were missed in actions     to permit, as a madness of heauenly Grace want to     me be ten. No, they that

fell ere thou not approved a man,     whom I keep fair Albany. Marble than public manners     hold think ye are not so young man. Without disturbances     for me, they all the dark, if an icebox had been absent     pressed, but stay, I will not

less as thy mind, being and quell?     Let this during Prince, ’ he said, for my wine, begun. Undo     his Generation’s ear and then say my Stella spiders     here half-canonized by beauty’s patterned with the least light     a cigarettes is so

suited, and wakened by Worth,     renew our own mouths she’s change, and o’er and very weel waled     were dead. The blood is gold. Which shrink their slight, and our scant     patchy and Elizabeth speaking over known that gives     me some saying? Angel

of beard too; or you out then     understands out of the bastioned walls like a white lilies     there. Court, when the reformadoes, ’ who, thou freely in the     feel them to the earth, and two are in a style become. Moving     other. Beyond the

dedicated words, and sobs, and     surly, yet loving might that pink snapp’d the process, young brain!     To be seen the name was in an empressing ayre all, and,     one and pardon crave. Lo the good against the barre to pray     to Allah from my song

of praise, her beds of old to catch     at time, blunt thee beds of insolence, sence and in my love     is low, and feel myself for peacefull’st cot, the only     Christian she no miracles are raven black and to     That promise … of the turn’d.

               45

For the Chekhov story is writ in a flurry,     that bitter as well as the shiny thing! Which is the bound in some vexation; even     theyr peace, from loveliest balsam-buds

a scent of Pallas forced to me. And suppose weary     wanton Children and with ended talking. Close keep your hero, Juan, while this western     gate, softly speed; but he succeed in

the in tight so fair; more fresh case weighs not so grate     on rusty pike, until mine, mine. He sware that it is lightful that all. She scarcely join     with death squads passion is bittered!

               46

With Cyril and new fill’d her robes     loosest, fresh and wrinkle, or of royal blood. I, seeing     dead. Corruption be, so

my daughter, something to weep, so     many a thing, where we must bear him out; ’ and kind and talking     I throws. ’ Drum we’ll speake,

loue denied, and swirled the day began     to solely seek and owners of the brutal as in     another hand, come let

me lie entranc’d and greed but lack     of those bells for all hys passively: your pitying may     remains unseen, they fail!

               47

Where half the Stars would understand.     The vegetables cooked at me. With April bends above meant     to the ivorie, her favour

of Harvest. Trust me, true love-     freaks the savage race, reverence from thence,—a paradise     is dress’d in the dales, thief.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #191 texts #ballad sequence

[motownfiction]

you shouldn’t have

Sam forgot his wallet (again). He’s at the annual Christmas tree lighting ceremony in the parking lot of St. Catherine’s with Will and Daniel. Normally, they renounce school spirit and all its works, but the Christmas tree lighting ceremony is different. For one thing, it’s an excuse to be outside after dark without your parents asking you too many questions. For another thing, it’s the only time they get to enjoy the homemade hot chocolate that Mrs. St. John sells in her little booth near the gym. At least, that’s what it’s supposed to be. But Sam forgot his wallet.

Again.

It’s the fourth weekend in a row something like this has happened. First, it was the movies, and Will spotted his ticket and shared his bucket of popcorn. Second, it was 7-Eleven, where Daniel pitched in a little bit extra so that Sam could get a Slurpee. Most recently before tonight, it was the roller rink, which they would have left if Mrs. O’Connor hadn’t given Sam some money to get through the front door. For three weekends in a row, Will and Daniel have put up with Sam’s forgetfulness. This weekend, they sing a different tune.

“My mom only gives me so much money every week,” Daniel says. “And she’s not even sure she should be doing that now that my dad’s moving out.”

“And my mom counts how much I spent when I come home at the end of the night,” Will says. “If I’m shorter than I thought I’d be, she gets mad.”

“How does Colleen feel about me?” Daniel asks. “With me being five-three and all.”

Will laughs. Sam thinks he’d like to laugh, too, but it’s serious business.

“You think you can just stand here and make jokes,” he says. “I’m really in a crisis! This is the one time a year we get to have Mrs. St. John’s hot chocolate – the best hot chocolate in the world, as far as I know – and you’re really going to make me miss it? You’re really going to make me hold out until next Christmas? I could be dead by then!”

“Yeah, you could be,” Daniel says. “Because if you keep talking like that, I’ll just go ahead and kill you.”

He and Will share a snicker, and Sam wishes he had a Snickers. Anything to satiate his now-overwhelming desire for anything chocolate. He’d take a Tootsie Roll, and those are just taffies with a makeover. He digs his shoe into the pavement beneath him.

“You think you’re so funny,” Sam mutters. “Don’t you know I’m the only one who can be funny around here?”

“What are you talking about?” Will asks. “You sound insane.”

“I feel insane. Without hot chocolate at the Christmas tree lighting, I might as well not even be a person. I might as well be …”

He scans his immediate perimeter before he picks up a small pebbles beside his shoe.

“This rock!” he says. “I might as well be this rock. I’d prefer it, too. Rocks don’t know what it’s like to miss out on the world’s best hot chocolate.”

“I think those were Paul Simon’s original words for ‘I Am a Rock,’” Will says. “I knew you’d know ‘em.”

“What did I say about being the funny one?”

He thinks about bickering with Will for a little while longer – one of his favorite hobbies is pretending that Will is his long-suffering husband – but before he can say another word, he feels the weight and warmth of a hot chocolate cup in his right hand. He furrows his brow and looks around to see who might have put it there. Probably Sadie, he thinks.

But when he looks up, it’s not Sadie.

It’s Steph Armstrong.

When Steph Armstrong smiles at Sam Doyle, his heart flips around like Nadia Comaneci has taken up residence in his chest. He’s not sure how long he’s had a crush on her. They’re in eighth grade now, nearly fourteen, and Sam remembers the first time he thought Steph looked pretty: three years ago now, toward the start of fifth grade. Tonight, she looks even prettier. The moonlight bounces off her blonde hair, which blows in the wind like she’s the star of her very own MGM musical. He can’t see her too well in the dark, but he knows her cheeks are rosy from the cold winds on everybody’s faces. And that smile … the wattage in that smile would put any baseball stadium to shame. He’s pretty sure he’s mixing his metaphors (something Lucy warned him about when he, for a reason he’ll never quite understand, allowed her to read his poetry). But right now, he’s thirteen, and he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care because Steph Armstrong just put a cup of hot chocolate in his hand.

“Here,” she says.

Sam looks between the hot chocolate and Steph, who can’t stop smiling. It’s a good thing he knows how big his smile is, too.

“Um, thanks,” he struggles. “You, uh … you shouldn’t have.”

Steph shrugs like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“I know,” she says. “I just … you sounded so upset about it. I wanted to.”

Sam blushes, but this time, he doesn’t really care. In fact, he kind of wants Steph to see him flustered … to see how flustered she makes him.

“Thanks,” Sam says. “Sorry, I know I said that already.”

Steph just shrugs.

“That’s alright,” she says. “I just like talking to you.”

Sam grins and takes a sip of his hot chocolate. He wonders if Steph knows just how much those words meant to him. I just like talking to you. Damn good, he thinks. Sometimes, he gets a little sick of talking to himself.

Maybe, he thinks, those days are numbered.

Maybe, he thinks, Steph will be around to talk back.

#drabble #ch: sam doyle #ch: steph armstrong #ship: forever afternoon #year: 1980

[glittersandsourcherries]

The joker and the queen | Fezco x Reader

Summary: Since you met him at that party, you didn’t want to look at anything else

Pairing: Fezco x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Note: After hearing Ed and Taylor's new duet, I had to write this. I take a lot of inspiration from Taylor, in her songs and the way she writes/tells a story

-

After five years of dating, sometimes Fez still wondered what you were doing with someone like him. To his eyes - and many others's -, he wasn't worthy of you. You were too good for him, too intelligent and too beautiful for someone like him. He was a drug dealer, a dropout. You were a fucking diamond and he was a yard pebble.

You weren't shy to admit that you always got a lot of male attention.

As a kid, you'd get called pretty all the time. You'd smile and say thank you, not knowing it wasn't right. Men shouldn't call little girls pretty. They shouldn't look at little girls.

When you reached puberty, pretty turned into hot. It was nice. Very nice. You felt desired...and loved - or so you thought. Their charming smiles had you hand your heart to the wrong hands and you got played in return. So, after one too many heartbreaks, you kept it guarded, afraid to have someone break it again.

Until Fez.

If Cassie hadn't peaced out of the car at a stop sign and made you run after her before getting to the New Years party, maybe your feet wouldn't be in so much pain - and maybe you wouldn't have met him. Running in heels is never a good idea - hello blisters and sore feet - , but you weren't going to let your tipsy friend get lost in this dark neighborhood and fall into the wrong hands.

She seemed to have disappeared again shortly after you arrived at the house party, but you let her sister handle her. You had done enough for tonight.

After some dancing with Maddy and BB, you wandered to one of the couches, sighing in relief as your feet were no longer pressured. Taking your shoes off would've felt better, but you didn't want to give any possible foot-fetishist a free show. You brought your hard seltzer to your lips and took a sip. Like Serena Van der Woodsen once said, your feet won't hurt as long as you have just the right amount of champagne. Yours were already hurting and this was champagne, but you get the gist.

''Mind if I sit here?'' a slow, velvety voice politely asked.

You raised your eyes in the direction of the voice, seeing a man with a close buzz-cut and a ginger beard.

You shook your head. ''Not at all.''

You felt the couch sag and took another sip of your drink, not giving the stranger attention.

''You made any New Year resolutions?''

You turned, finally taking a proper look at the person next to you, meeting a pair of clear blue eyes. Pretty, you noted. But, you knew better than let yourself be fooled by a pair of beautiful eyes. He also had freckles all over his face and an unmistakable large scar on the side of his head.

''Eh, not really,'' you replied. ''I mean, why bother? People never stick to them anyway.''

The redhead chuckled. ''Word.''

''Did you know that 23% of people quit their resolutions after just one week? They abandon at the sliver of failure and blame their failure on a lack of time, resources, or motivation when the real responsible is their lack of planning and will. Only 19% of individuals are actually able to stick to their goals long term.''

''Wow. You a walkin' wikipedia or somethin'? Pullin' facts like that.''

A shy smile curled at the corner of your lips. You looked down at your lap, not really used to that type of compliments. The non-physical kind.

''What's your name?'' he asked.

''Y/N.''

''Mine's Fezco. You can call me Fez, though.''

You and him kept the conversation going for a good while, talking about everything and nothing. It'll sound sad, but this was the longest conversation you ever held with a man without him making a comment about your physique. And Fez was genuinely interested in what you were saying. He wasn't a big talker, but he was listening and didn't look bored to death.

It was refreshing.

His piercing blue eyes lingered on your face as listened to you talk, not the cleavage of your dress. You couldn't say he hadn't looked, he did, but he hadn't tried to make a move. He was being flirty, but respectful.

Fez's phone vibrated in his pocket. He apologized and fished it out, frowning as he read the message.

''I would listen to you talking all night, but I'm gonna have to cut soon.''

''Oh. That's- that's okay.'' You forced a smile, hiding your disappointment behind your can of cherry flavored hard seltzer.

He was about to stand, but paused. The chances of you taking his offer were very slim, but he still asked. ''Unless you wanna come with?'' There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, not ready to part from you yet.

''I don't follow people I just met to their houses,'' you said.

Despite his disappointment, Fez nodded in understanding. ''That's good. You're bein' safe. Smart girl.''

''But...'' You put down your almost empty drink on the nearby table and looked up at Fez, about to make a decision that will change your whole life - and future. ''I'm not ready for this night to end.''

You stayed up talking until very late.

''Want some?'' Fez asked, holding the perfectly rolled blunt between his fingers as the cloud of smoke dissipated over him.

You gave him a short nod and he stretched his arm across to you. ''Thanks.'' You took a puff, inhaling deeply and blew it out.

''Shit. You for real?'' Fez dragged, retrieving the blunt back from you and taking it to his lips.

A small laugh left your lips. ''My brother and I used to smoke on our rooftop before he moved to college. This isn’t my first hit.''

''I see that.'' He smiled. ''Want another?''

One thing you forgot was how sleepy weed made you. A few minutes after your first hit, your eyelids began feeling heavier. Your head was resting against the back of the couch, watching Fez with sleepy eyes.

''You good, shawty?''

You nodded.

You woke up a moment later, very confused, not recognizing at all where you were. It wasn’t until your eyes landed on the floral knitted blanket covering your legs that you remembered: you were at Fezco’s house.

''I’m so sorry. How long was I asleep for?''

Fez shrugged. ''A few minutes. I don’t know.'' He checked at the time on his phone. ''Shit. Can you believe it's 4am?'' Fez rubbed his eyes, which started to sting from the smoke and being awake for so long.

''What?! No way.'' Your phone had died a while ago, so you had to check on the oven clock. It was in fact 4am. ''I should get home soon. You have work in a couple of hours.''

''Nah.You don’t have to. It's New Year. Most customers come in for Advils, gatorade or more alcohol. They can get it anywhere else.'' He reached out for your hand on the couch cushion, lacing his fingers with yours. ''Stay.''

You felt your heartbeat pick up its pace and lowered your eyes to your intertwined fingers, soft and delicate meeting strong and calloused. Although the gesture took you by surprise, you didn’t remove your hand from his. You liked how it felt around yours.

You stayed.

The sun would be rising in a little over an hour.

You couldn’t remember the last time you stayed up all night. It was perhaps for an intense study session before a big exam or a stressful event coming up the next day.

His hand left yours to grab the bottle of beer on the table, licking his lips before taking a sip. You stared at his lips, noticing his downward-turned upper lip and the little curve at the bottom of his bottom lip. There was a small ‘pop’ as he released the bottle from his lips.

Without second thoughts, you brought your fingertips to his lips and gently stroked them. ''Can I kiss you?''

''Do whatever you want.''

You scooted closer on the couch, cupped Fez’s jaw, feeling his beard. Surprisingly, it was soft, not scratchy. You leaned in, about to kiss him, but before your lips could touch, you backed down. ''I…I think coming here was a mistake.''

He reached out to cover your other hand with his, not helping your situation. ''Why you sayin' that?''

You raised your eyes to meet his. ''Because the longer I spend with you, the more I can see myself falling for you.''

''And, that's a bad thing?'' His eyebrows furrowed.

Although Fezco hadn't mirrored anything from your past boyfriends, you were scared that this relationship - if you ever let it get to that - could wind up toxic and unhealthy. Follow the pattern of your previous relationships.

You felt the weight of his eyes on you, as if he was trying to read you.

''Men only come along to do me wrong.''

''You think I'll do you wrong?''

You thought for a moment. ''No.''

He caressed the slopes of your knuckles. ''I ain't gonna hurt you.''

Your heart tightened.

You had promised yourself you wouldn't fall in love so fast anymore. That the next time, you'd take your time before giving your heart to someone, but here you were, in Fez's living room, sitting a few inches apart on his couch, knowing one single tilt of the head would join your lips together.

''I really want to kiss you, Fez.''

''Then, do. I ain't budgin’.''

A part of you was terrified, but you couldn't resist. So you kissed him.

Five years had gone by since that night. Five years since you had allowed yourself to fall with fragility and uncertainty. Five years since you had handed him your patched up heart.

You could easily have someone better - in all categories. Someone who wasn't from the dark side. Someone who could give you a future, diamonds for your birthdays and a big beautiful house. Someone who wouldn't have to use dirty money to buy you a diamond ring.

''I don't want a diamond ring.''

Sometimes, you felt like your mother brought up subjects just to cause problems. Like tonight when she brought up marriage.

Your sister was newly engaged and, with malicious intentions, your mother decided to ask when your turn will be. She also didn't fail to mention the beautiful ring Michael got your sister and the size of the diamond.

It disgusted you how she played with Fez's head. She never missed a chance to make him feel inferior or not-so-subtly tell him that he wasn't worthy of you.

Fez sighed. ''You know what I mean, Y/N.''

You did.

''I…I can’t give you that. I ain't got the money for that.''

He would give you the world if he could.

He treated you better than anyone before him had. Why couldn't your mother see that? He may not be the richest or be the next best doctor, but Fez was a good man. He treated you better than anyone had before him.

''Fez.'' You cupped his face in your hands, looking in the beautiful eyes you fell for. ''The richest king could offer me a fucking palace and I'd still pick you. I'll always pick you.''

#fezco #fezco imagine #fezco x reader #fezco euphoria #euphoria #euphoria fic #euphoria imagine #this was supposed to by my valentine day special... #I'm two weeks late #sorry

[beautifulblhell]

3AM

Summary: Being friends with the Haitani brother entails being dragged out at 3am

A/N: Happy birthday to the thirstiest hoe I know to the lady who leaves Akaashi at home while she goes out on bike rides with Rindou and Wakasa @ara-mitsue!!🥳🥳🎉 okay so originally I didn’t think I would be able to finish this in time, hence why I wrote that fic with Ana, but here’s your order of Haitani sandwhich with a glass of Wak- I mean, water to quench your thirst🥴 hope you have a wonderful day today, and may you be surrounded by ‘roses’ tonight in your dreams 🍆🍆🍆🤣

Stayed up to 4am to write most of this, and since it was fuelled by lack of sleep, I apologise if some parts failed to make sense (or the whole thing) p.s it was only meant to be a 1k Fic 🤡

Characters: Haitani Ran x Reader x Haitani Rindou (x a special guest)

Tags: fluff, crack, swearing

WC: 3k

Tap tap

You jerked awake, accidentally yanking off one of your earphones as the cable got caught in your sleeve. For a moment you tried to make sense of the disoriented world. Then you swore. You had fallen asleep at your desk. Spreadsheets and graphs sprawled across your desk. Just the mere sight of them sent a shudder through you. And to think you always thought homework was bad.

You pulled off your other earphone as you got up. You back ached like a bitch. You stretched, then gave up as the pain intensified.

So much for the job description of nine-to-five. Guess it was your fault for not reading the small print when you signed the contract. Probably printed on page six hundred and fifty two in size 0.5 font was where it entailed how much work you need to do even when you got back home.

Tap tap

The rocks hit your window harder.

You glanced at the little clock sitting on your desk. ‘3AM’ flashed across the dim blue screen. You sighed, then crossed the room to your window. You had hoped you only dreamed of the noise, but alas, ‘twas not the case.

“What took you so long?” Rindou’s pissed voice materialised from the night air the moment you opened your window. Hearing his words, you were tempted to slam the window in his face. The only thing that was stopping you was how hot he looked even under the harsh glare of the streetlights. Taking another eyeful wasn’t going to cost you anything.

He was standing below your room with a handful of pebbles in his hand, his head tilted up towards your room on the second floor. The front wheel of his motorcycle was parked smack bang in the middle of your mom’s prized flowerbeds. Someone is definitely going to get skinned alive when she finds out in the morning.

“The person you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the window is closed.” you replied monotonously, your hand gripping the edge of the window frame, ready to lower it.

“Awww that’s no fun~” You looked towards the direction of the sing-song voice. The older Haitani brother was leaning on his motorcycle, which thankfully was parked at the sidewalk. His lips curved upwards when his lilac eyes raked over your dishevelled blouse.

You eyed suspiciously at the brick he was tossing absentmindedly. “What were you planning to do with that?”

“I wonder,” Ran mused, his eyes glinting with amusement. You had a feeling it would be what hit your window next if you hadn’t responded.

“It’s three in the morning.” The first three buttons of Ran’s shirt were open, and you finally managed to rip your eyes from him and glared at Rindou. “Are you trying to wake up the entire neighbourhood?”

Rindou blinked at you in confusion. “Who goes to sleep at three?”

“Oh, I don’t know, normal people?” You could feel a small headache starting to form. Common sense never seemed to apply to the Haitani brothers.

“Weaklings,” Rindou sniggered, and Ran nodded in agreement. You weren’t sure how both of them still managed to look so perfect without any sleep, while you looked like you crawled out from the depth of hell every time you pulled an all-nighter. Genes, probably. And the Haitani brother sure seemed to have received the best.

Ran turned to his brother with that same easy grin. “It’s like the scene in Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it? Our princess is looking down at you from the balcony. What’s your next line, Romeo?”

Rindou’s eyebrows twitched. Before he could make a snarky comeback, you cut in. “You’ve actually read Shakespeare, Haitani Ran? I thought reading was a foreign concept to you.” You’ve never seen Ran with a book in all the years you’ve known him.

“The movie. Never have or will read that,” he replied without an ounce of shame.

“Wow, love how you can admit that with a straight face and look so proud. It makes me feel bad for having read it.” You were pretty sure the only thing Ran read was the menu in restaurants. Or maybe he just pointed at the pictures and ordered those.

“Are you coming down or are you gonna continue to stay up there and chat? My neck’s straining.” Rindou had dropped his rocks and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“No, I quite like this view of looking down on you.” You peered dramatically down at him. Ran burst out laughing, and Rindou only answered with a scowl. His mouth moved indecipherably. Probably cursing.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where you are bringing me. Last time you took me to an abandoned house and scared the shit out of me.”

“Not this time, I promise.” Ran looked at you with much sincerity as he could muster, yet he couldn’t quite hide the glint of amusement in his purple eyes.

“That’s what you said last time as well.” You threw him an accusatory glare.

“If you don’t come down I’ll wake up the entire street.” Ran threatened.

“How?” You challenged back.

“I’ll…” Rindou trailed off.

“Break everyone’s windows?” Ran suggested unhelpfully.

“Yeah, if that is what it takes.” From the looks of their faces you knew they would stay true to their word. The Haitani brothers always got their way.

With a resigned shake of your head, you said, “Fine, but I need to get ready.”

“Just come down as you are, you always take hours to get ready,” Rindou groaned. You felt offended. You never took hours. Just… maybe yeah, an hour or so.

“As you can see, we didn’t bring a tent,” Ran gestured towards their motorcycles.

“I look like a mess,” you complained. You had slept in your work clothes and hadn’t even cleaned off your makeup. If you looked up in a dictionary for the word ‘mess’ you are pretty sure you would find your picture pasted in there.

“A hot mess,” Ran smirked up at you, his tone taking on a flirtatious tone. And your heart responded with a quick double flip. Nice betrayal, you thought.

Rindou shrugged, “We’ve seen worse, like that time when you were studying for finals and were fueled purely by coffee-”

You grabbed the shoe box laying at the corner. Taking out a high heel, you threw it down at him. Luckily, your aim was spot on. It went flying at light speed towards your target. Unluckily, Rindou was quick to react. He dodged it before it stabbed him.

“What the fuck you crazy-”

“You saying something?” You held up the other high heels high in your hands. Rindou instantly clamped his mouth shut.

“A smart choice,” Ran mused at the side.

“You aren’t off the hook either,” you rounded on him. Ran lifted both of his arms in mock surrender.

“Just come down peacefully, will you? We aren’t trying to kidnap you.” Rindou rubbed the back of neck with a pained expression.

“More like blackmail. Can’t this wait? My parents are asleep, if I go down I’ll wake them up.”

“Then jump down, I’ll catch you.” He took a step back and held his arms wide open.

“I don’t trust the person who secretly ate all the ice cream, then filled the tub back with ice.” You folded your arms.

“Busted,” Ran grinned at his brother. “You thought she would never notice.”

“You ate some too,” Rindou snapped back. He turned back towards you. “Hurry up, my arms hurt.”

Seeing you still debating, Ran tossed the brick higher in the air.

Finally, knowing you could never win against them, you clambered on the window sill. You looked down below.

It wasn’t too high. Worst comes to worse, you’ll break a few bones. At least you can get a cast and ask for sick leave from work. Or your boss might just decide to fire you. So you closed your eyes and jumped, with the future of your job also hanging on the line.

Half of you were expecting Rindou to tumble down with you when he caught you. Instead, after falling weightless for a brief moment, strong arms caught you easily. When you opened your eyes, Rindou’s face was right next to yours. His sharp lilac eyes were gazing at you intently. He was way more handsome up close, and it took everything you had not to run your hand down his face.

He frowned slightly. “Have you been losing weight?”

You raised your eyebrows. “What are you, my personal scales? You should have told me earlier, then I wouldn’t have splashed out on that weight scale. Comes with the BMI measuring function too, can you do that?”

“No, but I know when and how much snacks you eat at night sometimes.” Rindou sniggered. You stuck your tongue at him before hopping off his arms. It was true, recently work has been stressful and you haven't been eating properly.

“Shall we get dinner afterwards then?” Ran smiled. It wasn’t a question.

“I’ll get fat if I eat so late at night,” you protested, already knowing it was a lost cause.

Rindou shrugged. “You could afford to eat more. You are way too thin.”

“Hmm what should we have,” Ran tilted his head towards the side, thinking.

“Dim sum,” Rindou instantly answered.

“I’m sure there are places that serve dim sum at three in the morning,” you said sarcastically.

Ran smiled lazily. “For us, yes.”

“So where are you kidnapping, you witches-”

Someone threw something over your head. “Hey!” You pulled it off. You were ready to throw it back when you saw it was Rindou’s jacket.

“Who in their right mind doesn’t bring a jacket when they come out at night?” Rindou spoke with his back to you. You didn’t miss the way the tips of his ears were slightly red.

“Well, who asks other people to go out with them at this hour?” You grumbled. You shoved your arms through his jacket. The smell of Rindou enveloped you completely, almost as if he was hugging you.

Ran had sauntered up. One of his gloved hands tilted your chin upwards and he gazed down at you with a smirk. “Hmm, maybe lovers?” He lowered his face down, and you could feel his breath against your lips.

You took a step back. “Is that why you and Rin were out so late? Whoops, my bad, didn’t mean to be a third wheel for you guys. Lemme go back-”

“Stop flirting,” Rindou shoved his way in between you. “Here, wear it.” He handed you a helmet.

“Someone’s jealous,” Ran sniggered.

Rindou ignored his brother. He sat on his motorcycle, then looked back at you expectantly. You sat behind him.

“She’s gonna sit behind me when we come back, won’t you, pretty girl?” Ran threw you a wink from his motorcycle. You rolled your eyes.

Rindou revved the engine and it came roaring to life. You wrapped your arms around Rindou’s waist. You could feel his firm muscles under his t-shirt.

“Rin?” You lifted your visor and called out to him, your chin rested on his shoulders.

“What?” He called back. He was gearing up the motor ready to drive.

“Did you work out more? Your abs are firmer.”

Rindou nearly crashed the motorcycle. Ran cackled so hard that he was nearly crying.

It took them a few minutes before they were able to drive.

Both motorcycles shot through the still night, sending howling winds screaming on either side of you. The headlights sliced through the darkness, lighting up the empty road in front of you. The scenery passed by in a blur, which spoke of the pace you were going at. You clutched Rindou harder.

Both of them never bothered to slow down, even at corners. In fact, they seemed to be speeding up. Gradually, more lights came twinkling into view, until they came to a stop at a place bustling with activity. Bright neon lights for all kinds of seemingly shady places hung off the buildings. It was a place that never slept.

The moment the people noticed the Haitani brother, they stopped and bowed. Some hurriedly scuttled away. However, Ran and Rindou didn’t seem to care. After they parked, Ran pulled loose his hair band. His long hair cascaded past his shoulders. He held his hair tie in between his teeth as he gathered his dark strands into a ponytail.

He smirked when he caught you looking at him.

“Trying to look perfect, Ran?”

“I always look perfect.” He pulled loose a few strands of hair. He really did. Not that you’ll ever admit it.

“Wow, someone’s ego sure is big. Don’t think the Earth is big enough for it.” You climbed off the motorcycle.

You walked in between them. Everyone gave them a wide berth. You always felt like a celebrity when you walked with them. Except people didn’t stare at celebrities with fear in their eyes.

“For the upteenth time, where are we heading-“

You tripped. How you trip over nothing is beyond you, but you do. You nearly gave Mother Earth a big kiss when a strong arm jerked you back.

“Owww,” you rubbed your shoulders that nearly got dislocated. “But thanks.”

“It’s amazing how you always manage to do that,” Rindou sighed. He grabbed your hands. “Shit why are your hands so cold?” He shoved your linked hands in his pocket.

Ran whistled at the side. “That was smooth, brother of mine.” He slipped one of his arms around your waist. “So you don’t trip,” he said with a smirk. Rindou snorted.

You came to a stop and a small door in an alleyway. You glanced around. There was no sign to indicate where you were. It could be a hideout for serial killers for all you know.

Rindou opened it without knocking. There was a staircase leading to the bottom. A terminally ill  lightbulb flickered overhead, providing almost no illumination.

“It looks like a staircase descending to hell,” you groaned.

“Exactly where we come from,” Ran answered cheerfully.

“The stairs are narrow, be careful.” Rindou went down first, but he didn’t let go of your hand.

You followed, groping your way down. One time you nearly missed your footing.

“I got you,” he muttered when you screamed. If he hadn’t been holding your hand tightly you were sure you would have tumbled down the stairs.

Once you reached the landing below, you were faced with a red curtain. Rindou pushed it apart. A bright light flooded into your eyes and you winced. Once your eyes adjusted, you recognised the furniture and equipment as a tattoo parlour.

A man with blonde and purple hair was in the centre of the room, preparing his equipment. He raised his head when you entered. He had droopy eyes, but there was a sharp glint in them. Your breath hitched. He was good looking. Wayyy too good looking.

“Heyyyyy Waka~” Ran threw open the curtains and came in behind you. “Here’s the little lady we told you about.”

The man called ‘Waka’ dropped his gaze to you and Rindou’s entwined hands. You quickly let go.

“You are late.” His voice was smooth. He spoke quietly, yet there was a steely undertone that spoke he wasn’t to be messed with.

“Sorry, sorry.” Ran laughed. You’ve never heard such an insincere apology in your life before. “It took a little convincing for her to come here.”

Ran placed a hand on your shoulders. He bent down until his face was next to yours. “This is Waka, Imaushi Wakasa. He’s the best tattooist here, no, in the whole of Tokyo. He’s pretty picky about his clients, and it took a good persuading for him to agree.”

“Sooooo why are we here? You want me to watch you and Rindou getting tattoos?”

“Getting matching tattoos, doll, all three of us.” Ran’s grin widened, his purple eyes glinting.

You stared at him open-mouthed.

Rindou laughed at your shell-shocked expression.

“Excuse me? You brought me out here for this? And you didn’t even ask me?”

“We’ll show you the design if you like,” Ran said.

“Afterwards,” Rindou finished with a snigger.

You groaned.

“Ladies first,” Ran gestured. You glanced at Wakasa who was lowering the tattoo chair until it was completely flat.

“Wait, hold on, where is this tattoo gonna be?”

Rindou tapped the base of your spine with a smirk.

“Are you kidding?!” A tattoo right on the spine is gonna hurt like hell.

Wakasa looked at you. His sharp gaze seemed to pierce right through you. “If she doesn’t want it then I won’t do it.”

“Do it for us, doll?” Ran peered into your face. He ran his thumb over the bottom of your lip. The corner of his mouth curved upwards. His smirk was irresistible, and he knew it. You could feel Rindou gazing at you too, and a third pair of eyes staring at your back.

“Fine,” you relented with a sigh. You’ve always wanted a tattoo anyway. Just maybe not so early in the morning. You untucked your blouse and gathered it at your waist. You heard Wakasa snap on his gloves. At least the tattoo artist was hot.

Ran and Rindou sat on either side of you as you laid face down. You clutched both of their hands.

“I think our hands are going to get mauled today, little brother.” Ran chuckled seeing how tightly you were squeezing them already.

“Take off your gloves,” you scowled at Ran. If you were going to be hurting then both of them can at least share your pain.

“Whatever you say, pretty girl.” He smiled. He held your gaze, then, he brought his gloved hand up to his mouth, before biting the middle finger of his glove, and pulled it off with his teeth. It dropped into his lap. His smirk deepened when he saw you swallow. You averted your gaze with a huff. Cold fingers weaved through yours. Ran’s hands were always colder than Rindou’s. You gripped both of them tightly.

“It’s gonna be worth it,” Rindou answered with a grin.

You sure hoped so.

Masterlist | Support | 2021.11.06

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