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iwaisa · 4 years

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request. (Sorry if this is too angsty for you, just delete it if not!!) But could I request Kuroo, Bokuto, and Daichi with a reader (gender doesn't matter and hc or anything) whos more of a people pleaser, like they put anyone else's needs before their own? And then one day they just snap and they help the reader so I guess with a fluffy end?? Ty sorry again!! - anon

a/n. hey anon ! this is such a cute request (especially since i am a people pleaser lol) don’t be sorry! i’m here to write whatever your heart desires! i really hope i interpreted this correctly! also, there was no relationship specified, so i just assumed it was a romantic relationship. have an amazing day/night, anon! <3

kuroo, bokuto, and daichi with a people pleaser s/o

- genre. angst to fluff

- pairings. kuroo, bokuto, and daichi x gender neutral reader

- warnings. none

- key.

c/l/n - classmate’s last name

f/f/n - friend’s first name

► now shuffling...

kuroo sat in his classroom tapping his pencil against his desk as he waited for you - his s/o - to walk into class

what he didn’t expect to see was you being bombarded with people

“l/n-san! please give me the answers to last night's homework!”

you attempted to wave off the group of people as you made your way to your seat, yet much to your dismay, the group didn’t disperse

“l/n-san please! i had basketball last night and i didn’t have enough time to do it!” another person spoke up

the others agreed, making lame excuses for why they were simply too lazy to complete a one-paged worksheet

kuroo rolled his eyes and pushed his chair out from under his desk, walking over towards you

he slung his arm around his shoulder, “‘morning, sunshine.”

you felt your heart stutter at the name, but you were quickly snapped out of your moment when someone leaned over your desk to continue pestering you

“l/n-san please, sensei is gonna give me detention if i don’t finish this homework!”

“and why couldn’t you do it?” kuroo chimed in

“i had baseball! i got home late and i was so exhausted-”

kuroo cut him off, “and you couldn’t find any time to do a single-paged worksheet?”

the boy was attempting to stutter out an excuse, but kuroo was not having it

“just leave my s/o alone. do the homework yourselves.”

“tetsu, it’s okay, i don’t mind,” you spoke up

the rest of your classmates began cheering as you handed them your worksheet

kuroo frowned at you, “f/n, i know you feel bad for them, but they’re only excuses, you know that right?”

you patted his head and assured him that you were okay with giving out your homework as long as you saw your classmates happy

this carried on for weeks; you would walk into class, and would instantly be bombarded with people asking for your homework

and each time, kuroo would watch as you instantly handed it over telling them that you would be happy to

kuroo has had enough; he couldn’t stand seeing his s/o being pushed around like that

after school, you and kuroo walked to the gymnasium for his volleyball practice, when a classmate approached you

“l/n-san! i won’t be able to do my homework tonight since i have dance, so can i please have your notebook!” your classmate bowed, hands clapped together above her head

you began reaching into your bag to pull said notebook out, until you felt a hand stop your movement

“c/l/n-san, i understand your schedule is busy, but i would appreciate it if you would stop guilt tripping my s/o into giving you the answers. they also have a very busy schedule, and it’s getting tiring seeing them be pushed around as if they aren’t human too,” kuroo said through gritted teeth

you stared at your boyfriend, wondering what had gotten into him

your thoughts were quickly interrupted when you felt kuroo pulling you into the gym

he turned around and wrapped his arms around you, “i hate seeing them use you like that, f/n.”

he nuzzled his face into your neck as you chuckled, “i promise i won’t let them do that anymore, tetsu. i’ve been getting better about saying no to people, as much as it hurts to see them sad.”

he nodded and pulled back, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “i’m glad to hear that.”

you and bokuto walked down the hallways of fukurōdani high talking and laughing, until one of your friends walked up to you to confront you about missing out on a karaoke get-together

they continued scolding you as bokuto simply watched from the side, confused as to why your friend was talking to you like that

“i-i’m sorry f/f/n-san. i promise i’ll go to karaoke with you guys tonight!”

they continued the confrontation, even after you had already apologized

bokuto tilted his head in confusion as he watched you continue to apologize

he felt himself growing annoyed with your so-called friend’s constant condemning, so he took it upon himself to step in

“hey hey hey! they already apologized, what’s the big deal?” he asked while pulling you into his side

your friend just ignored bokuto, and continued to walk past, letting one more negative comment slip

bokuto watched as your figure seemed to deflate

“hey hey! emo mode is my thing, f/n! don’t be sad! they’re no good for you if they keep making you feel bad, y’know,” he pouted, crouching down in front of you

“i’m sorry, kou.”

he assured you it was okay, and the two of you continued walking to class with him rubbing circles into your back with his hand

however, this problem remained unsolved

your friend only continued to chastise you, and your mood was worse than ever

soon enough, the only thing you could find yourself saying was sorry

this also did not go by unnoticed by your loving boyfriend, who unfortunately was not there this time as your friend approached you

“f/n-san!” your friend whined

“what’s wrong?” you asked, tilting your head

“the notes you gave me were wrong! i just failed my chemistry test!” they continued

you took the notes and skimmed over them

“b-but i just wrote down what the teacher had on the board, h-how could they be wrong?”

your friend continued, “i don’t know! ugh, i just failed a super important test because of this!”

you felt tears welling in your eyes at your current predicament

“i-i’m sorry, f/f/n-san. i’ll take better notes next time,” you sobbed

“ugh. it’s fine. stop crying will you?”

“s-sorry,”

“and stop apologizing! it’s annoying!”

your friend’s negative comments never ceased, and the tears continued streaming down your face

you looked up at your friend, only to see a familiar figure approaching from down the hall

“hey!!! f/n!!! i was looking for- h-hey! why are you crying?”

bokuto ran up to you and cupped your cheeks, wiping tear after tear away

“i-it’s my fault. i gave f/f/n-san the wrong notes. i’m sorry,” you choked out

bokuto asked to see the notes, and he read the pages

“but, these are the notes sensei told us to go over. these are the right notes!” he defended

“but i still failed my test because of your s/o! ugh! i knew i shouldn’t have trusted you to take the notes.”

bokuto felt his heart break at their comment

how could your ‘friend’ just say something like that? aren’t they supposed to be there for you? shouldn’t they be reassuring you that it was okay? shouldn’t they have taken their own notes in the first place?

bokuto’s mind ran at a mile a minute, until he turned around to face them

“you know, i would appreciate it a lot if you would stop terrorizing my s/o,” bokuto said darkly

he continued, “you’re no friend! you’re just using them! they’re trying their best and all you’re doing is criticizing them! you don’t deserve to be friends with someone as sweet as f/n!”

with that, he grabbed your arm and dragged you off to a separate hallway

he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and blotted at your face, “f/n, you don’t have to deal with them anymore, okay?”

he continued comforting and reassuring you until you were fit to go back to class

you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before entering the classroom, earning yourself a very giddy boyfriend for the rest of the day

your relationship with the captain of the karasuno volleyball team was smooth-sailing

the relationship between the two of you was nothing less than loving, and the two of you always supported each other

however, one thing daichi wished was different was that you would stop hiding your true feelings from him

he could read your face like a book; he knew exactly what emotion you were feeling at any given time, but you always brushed it off whenever he asked about it

it’s been six months since the two of you started dating, and he felt himself growing more anxious at the fact that at any given moment, all of your emotions would hit you at once and you would start breaking down

he wanted nothing more than to just be true to yourself and him

“hey, baby. how are you today?” daichi asked as you walked into the gymnasium

“i’m okay! how are you?” you gave him a quick kiss on the lips, but he didn’t fail to notice how your face seemed to be less expressive than usual

“are you sure you’re okay?” he questioned, cupping your face in his hands

“yeah, i’m fine! how are you?”

he felt himself growing annoyed that you kept brushing his question off as if it were nothing

it seemed to him like you cared more about his well-being than your own

“i’m alright. did something happen today?” he kept pressing. no matter what, he wanted to get an answer out of you

“nope! how was practice?”

by this point, daichi’s blood was starting to boil. he wasn’t meaning to get mad at you, per se, he was getting angry at the fact that he felt so useless

he felt as if you were hiding something important from him - something he could most definitely help you with

he stopped walking, and he watched as you turned around and walked up to him, tilting your head

“f/n, i need to know if you’re actually okay. and please don’t lie to me.”

he watched your expression drop, and you furrowed your eyebrows

“w-why would you think something is wrong?”

he sighed, placing his hands on your shoulders

“i know you’re hiding something from me. and i’m not mad, i just want to be able to help my best friend and my s/o with anything that’s troubling them. so please, i want you to be honest.”

by now the tears were rushing down your cheeks, and daichi offered you a seat on a nearby bench

you waited until you could form coherent sentences until you began to narrate your god-awful day to your boyfriend

he listened carefully as you described your day; firstly, you woke up late so you were unable to eat breakfast, then you received a horrible grade on your test, and then you didn’t have any lunch money to buy food at the cafeteria. you were exhausted and you just wanted some food

daichi nodded his head as he reached into his bag to pull out a granola bar, which you accepted eagerly

“f/n, please don’t hesitate to admit whenever you’re feeling awful. it’s my job as your boyfriend to make you feel better, and i can’t do that when you’re hiding your feelings from me. promise me you’ll tell me when something’s bothering you?”

you nodded and hugged him, burying your face into his chest

“good,” he sighed in contentment as he watched you excitedly scarf down the rest of the granola bar

#kuroo x reader #bokuto x reader #daichi x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #kuroo x gn!reader #bokuto x gn!reader #daichi x gn!reader

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oatsn-honey · 5 years

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simple words

Masterlist

Summary: Zelda was concerned for him -- he had been awfully quiet that day. She wondered, "Is this the breaking point?" (zelink, post-botw, zelda pov)

Hiya! So, I just got botw, and I am now officially o b s e s s e d (seriously, send help). I thought that I would give writing for this amazing game a shot, so without further delay, enjoy!

~~~~~~

We had been sitting outside his home for a while, listening to the fire crackling and watching the sun slowly disappear off the horizon. While it was indeed serine, I still worried. He had been awfully quiet today -- since the fall of the poisoning malice, he had begun to open up more, acting silly and showing his emotions. I tapped my wooden pencil against my leather-bound notebook, sighing softly and turning to gaze at him. His knees were pulled up to his chest, and he had his arms wrapped around them. His head rested against his knees, disheveled blonde hair cascading down.

I stared a while longer, my eyebrows furrowing, studying how the fading sunlight illuminated his body’s outline and grazed his face with ethereal glow, bouncing from his freckled skin. I turned to a blank page in my notebook, hoping to capture the picture. I bit the inside of my cheek, and with silent fervor began to doodle. I managed to finish sketching out the drawing just as the first stars began to litter the sky. I wanted desperately to show him, but felt off about doing so. So instead, after refining the drawing somewhat, I began to aimlessly map out some Guardian parts.

Suddenly, accentuated with a shaky breath, he turns to me, “Zelda,” he whispers, glancing up at me through his long bangs, “Do you ever feel your chest and heart convulse with the need to cry… but you just… can’t?” I inhaled sharply, surprised by his abrupt words, but remained silent. I could tell there was something else he wanted to say.

I stealthily slid closer to him, leaving my book and pencil behind. My body gently nudged his, and I felt him flinch, but I did not back away. “W-well, I guess I do know what you mean,” I started awkwardly, gulping, “kind of.” He spared me a questioning look. I continued, “What makes you feel this way, Link?” I knew I was never the best at providing comfort to others, but I would try. Before he could start speaking, I tagged on a firm, but kind reminder, “I’m always here to listen to you.”

He hid away, his words muffled, “I-I just… I’m- I’m so l-lonely,” he stuttered, voice weak. “I don’t even know w-why. I have you, and- and I just…,” his voice broke, “I’m so…”

My lips made a grim line. Sighing softly, my silky strands moving with the exhalation of breath, I closed the small gap between us, my hand nudging his leg. Several silent moments passed.

Eventually, my fingers brushed his cheek. I tenderly cupped his face, and he lifted his head just enough for his eyes to peek through his messy bangs. We locked gazes and I stared, entranced, into his ocean orbs, the sea color crashing with waves of built up emotions trying to spill over the edge of a wall. Tears pooled in the corners, and I felt my stomach clench and heart ache. He took a shuddering breath. “Zelda, I’m so sad.”

I dropped my hand from his freckle-splattered cheek and I swallowed, unsure of what to say, “I-I’m,” I snapped my mouth closed. My silence was deafening, and soon he was curling further into himself, shoulders quaking as silent cries racked his body. Tears dripped slowly down my face as I stared at my trembling hands. What was I supposed to do?

I couldn’t take it anymore. I launched myself forward, wrapping my arms around his shaking body and pulling him into me, “Link, Link, I’m so sorry,” I whispered into his hair as he clutched the front of my shirt.

The dam broke. Tears spurted from his eyes and his body trembled with labored, rapid breathing. He rubbed his palms on his face, sobs racking his body and making his voice jump, “Zelda, help, I’m tired of being sad! I’m tired of feeling alone! Nothing matters and everything matters! Everyday is a struggle, and I just can’t keep going! I-I,” He choked on his words leaning into my embrace, “I’m not good enough! Everything is always my fault! Maybe if I had trained harder or had been more careful, none of this would’ve happened -- I would’ve stopped Ganon one hundred years ago, and then maybe-maybe I wouldn’t be so lonely!” He tried to breathe, chest heaving.

“I’m so afraid. And I’m so confused.” He weeped into my shirt, soaking it with his tears.

“I know,” I uttered, trying to silence my own crying.

“Where are all of these emotions coming from?! There are so many of them!” He yelled, causing my heart to wrench painfully.

“I-I know.”

“They’re eating me up! Controlling my life! They make my heart burn, and they make me sick,” He gasped into my drenched shirt, “I make myself sick. I hate myself so much. Why am I even alive? I don’t want to live like this anymore, I don’t want to live, I-” He couldn’t say anymore, and curled into me, hands clenching the material of my clothes tighter. After several minutes of grieving, with whimpers falling from his lips, he spoke hoarsely, “What do I do, Zelda?”

“I don’t know,” I sniveled, failure and helplessness bubbling in my chest. I hugged him tighter, crying into his golden locks.

He looked up at me, eyes swollen and bloodshot, tears dripping from his chin, face flushed, and eyes so pained, and breathed, “I just want to be happy.”

~~~~~~

“Zelda, I’m so sad,” Is what he had said, broken down and sobbing openly for the first time in our long lives. I had told him, “I know,” and tried to convince him (and myself) that I truly understood what was happening. But, did I? I don’t think I did fully, no. I was confused, just as he, and didn’t know how to help. I had certainly felt that, the helplessness, before. Perhaps it was the most common emotion in my life. But, knowing that I had no way to provide true, immediate comfort to my friend, my love, was truly heartbreaking. Even more so, I had to accept that these feelings of his weren’t new, certainly not. They had been present long before the Calamity. He had been suffering this for longer than he could literally remember. And I was utterly oblivious. That was the epitome of uselessness.

~~~~~~

Dismal. Sorrowful. Despairing. Despondent. Heartbroken. Distressed. Doleful. Grieved. Somber. Wistful. Dejected.

There were so many words he could’ve used. So many words that conveyed so much more. But, he said “I’m so sad.” Sad. What does that word even mean? What does it mean to be truly sad? The way it seemed to me, that small snippet of a word was a mashed up combination of every word, and so many more, listed above that could only be described as the word it was; sad.

That three letter word held more power than the Calamity itself. It could break the strongest of soldiers with a single, undetectable blow. Did it break my knight? I wondered if there was any word that was strong enough to combat it. A word capable of overpowering it and bring another simple word to light; happy. That was another word he had used -- “I just want to be happy.”

Could a word even simpler than sad prevail? That would be the test, the hope. For the word that was put against the formidable three letters was I. I would fight his sadness. I was determined to see him smile and hear him laugh. I was going to piece him back together, even if it was the last thing I did. I was going to love Link. And he was going to be happy.

~~~~~~

Hopefully it wasn't too sad haha. Also, this is a bit of an experiment, because I’ve never written in a character’s pov, so hopefully it wasn’t too bad. To be honest, this was a vent fic I wrote at 3 am, so I don't expect it to be all that good. But, I do have another Zelda fic coming out, so stay tuned! Well, that's all for today. Have a great day, and eat and drink plenty! <3

(p.s. let me know if you're interested in a second chapter for this)

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monomas-a-smug-bih · 6 years

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Apocalyptic Chaos V :Twilight Drives

Part 5

..:::::..

“Are you FUCKING SERIOUS?!”

My shoulders dropped as I let out a sigh. Of course there’d something to carry all these supplies and food in a school, right? Wrong. The only backpacks and bags available were either in locked lockers or still latched onto dead students, which we weren’t too keen on looting. And after Izuku had shown us everything the cafeteria had to offer, they were kind of needed badly.

“My lord can you puh-leez shut up,” I threw him some jazz hands for extra sass. “you know before you attract a freaking herd and kill us all. Which would be fantastic if you ask me.” I sent an innocent smile to piss him off a little more. I saw his shoulders raise, getting ready to walk over and knock me out right away.

But sweet Izuku cut in, “Hey guys, calm down, p-please?” Blondie scoffed, about to snap.

“Why the hell can’t we just pop open a few lockers? We need to take something unless you idiots are still stuck on starving to fucking death.” I rolled my eyes, seeing Izuku send me a questioning glance.

“We can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?!”

“The noise! You hot-head!” Bakugou seemed offended,

“This again?! You stopped me before too woman! Stop getting in my way!”

“Then stop making dumbass plans!” Suddenly he was in front of me glaring down.

“The fuck ’d you just call me?” I challenged him with a step forward.

“Maybe if you were listening, you’d realize I didn’t call you an-“

“N-noise?” We blinked and both glared at Izuku, surprised by the interruption. He rubbed the back fo his neck. “A-ah sorry sorry! I just don’t know what you mean by n-noise.” I made an O with my mouth, secretly glad he was there to cut in. Bakugou beat me to it,

“Those monsters seem to follow it. They run around like blind idiots until they hear something, idiot.” I slid in an unenthusiastic ‘yeah’ slightly sad to have my thunder stolen. He motioned from Midoriya to me,

“That’s why, I’m trying to tell this idiot busting open tiny lockers won’t be a big enough deal to get us killed.” I murmured, ‘whatever tough guy.’ His head whipped to me.

“HAH?! I give you an explanation and you’re STILL complaining?” He shut his eyes and grabbed the bridge of his nose, turning away to walk towards the lockers. He placed a palm against one of them, holding terrifying eye contact with me, dead serious. My breath caught as I felt panic arise in me. Come on. This is fine.

“W-wait Kacchan-“ Izuku flailed his arms nervously. I dashed to get my weapon leaning against the wall, an explosion and the squeaks of distressed metal reaching my ears. Come on. The locker door bent out of shape leaned and eventually fell from its frame. Swiftly, ‘Kacchan’ caught it in one hand, seemingly never taking his eyes off of me with a smirk. I narrowed my eyes, what a cocky little-

“It’s fine, don’t be so paranoid alright?” attitude filled bra- “Hey, catch.” I dropped my plank and he tossed me the door. “That plank’s so shitty you may as well add this to your collection.” Grrrr... Izuku switched glances from the both of us confused by the weird exchange.

“Alright Baku-brat, lets go and not run into any zombies, k?” I tossed it back, completely fine with my deadly plank of wood. Then walked ahead of the two, preparing for the worst as I got closer to the corner. “Since I’m completely helpless.”

“Y/n! Wait up!” I heard Midoriya take the locker door and run up behind me. This doesn’t seem right. Something told me Bakugou’s method wouldn’t be so easy. I clutched my weapon, dashing ahead again to prove myself a little selfishly. Almost turning the corner, blinding flames lit up the corridor, forcing me to a screeching halt and back off. The fire retreated back to its person, leaving dark ash staining the walls in its wake. Which gave me an opportunity to hit him. I hoped for an opening jumped around the corner, slamming my raised plank downwards. Dammit! Hoping for it’s head to connect, I got caught onto its shoulder instead. I ripped hard at my plank, causing rotten flesh to fall from its form. Disgusting. Seeing it took closer to the right of the hall, I dashed passed its left before he could turn me to ashes, jumping out of he way. Flames covered the place I’d been standing a few moments ago, lighting up the hall as a few worried calls from the boys reached my ears. The fire decorated the walls with dancing shadows, making me even more uneasy. While I was at its back, I turned my body to ready myself like I was about to swing a baseball bat. I refused to hesitate, I wouldn’t die at the hands of one of these things. I am not defenceless. It let out an unpleasant gurgling cry and slowly turned to me again. Look at me. I screamed with the strength I had left and swung as hard as my muscles would allow. I won’t be helpless anymore! So hard the plank connected with the side of its head, and practically nailed it to the other wall. It’s deformed face oozed reds and greens, I unhooked the nail in disgust and tried not to think about it too much. It went limp and hit the floor.

Izuku rounded the corner hastily, “Y/N! Are you o-“ his eyes sunk to the collapsed body on the floor. “O-oh.” Bakugou appeared next, grabbing Izuku by the shirt to shove him away so he could see. I couldn’t exactly read his slightly shocked expression, but he didn’t look too pleased.

“Dammit.” He stared down at it in deep thought, tightening his fists and hand on a pipe in disbelief, up until he threw it away to clatter and roll at my feet. The rise and fall of his shoulders grew faster and more desperate. He looked to the ceiling, and he pumped his fists at his sides, “Fuck!” then leaned into the wall after giving it a defeated punch. Seeming to truly realize the hopeless situation we were all in. “What the fuck is this!” One way or another, we were all trapped. Whether it be in here waiting to get infected, or in the husks outside, trapped inside the body of one of those things with no control over ourselves. I could hear a subtle hint of fear in his voice. “Are you fucking serious!” It hurt to see him like this. I could tell by his state he now felt just as useless and trapped as I did. To feel defenceless, it makes you feel like a naive idiot. Some damsel in distress, who’s only use is to make people feel better about themselves. That’s how I felt. But I’m not like that anymore, I’m not helpless, and Bakugou isn’t defenceless, he needs to know that. I walked over, and if one of them heard the locker, surely they’d heard his complaining.

“Bakugou.” He didn’t react, keeping his glare on the wall. I touched his wrist, getting him to look me in the eyes. “Bakugou, please.” He surprisingly didn’t pull away, letting me calm him down with my quirk. His eyes flashed with light going from dark red to blue, returning to normal when I let go. He let out a sigh and shuddered, letting the light in his palms reduce to smoke. Izuku looked at us worryingly. He leaned over and picked up his rusted pipe, and stepped back from the wall, starting back to where I’d come from. We just followed on edge more than ever.

..:::::..

We made our way back to the locker, devoid of any more attacks from those things. Bakugou stuck a hand in, curious I peek inside. He tugged out a ragged looking bag, he handed it to me and I decided to check it out. Surprisingly, it was in better condition than I thought. It just seemed ragged from all the dust it’d collected since then. I shook it off and plopped it onto the floor. Unzipping it, I was greeted by some items. A pencil case, a textbook, nothing too exciting, other than a stale looking chip bag. Papers, more papers, loose pencils and erasers, ooh! I spotted some snacks near the bottom, some airtight sealed granola bars and a Rice Krispy. Better than nothing I guess. I looked up to the boys going through the locker, a couple binders and textbooks were tossed onto the floor. Izuku smiled at a water bottle, it was about 3/4 of the way full. I glanced back to my job, unzipping some more pockets. This backpack had at least seventy of them. Finding most of them were empty and small, I sighed. One more left! Come on baby! I slowly unzipped a small pocket on the back, digging my hand in to find- nothing. Ugh! Darn it!

“Any luck y/n?” I frowned at Izuku, getting up and accidentally knocking the backpack over in the process. Then I heard it.

//CLINK CLINK\\

I liked to the noise of metal of metal. I spotted a ring of keys, one looking to be for a vehicle.

“HAhA! Hell yes!” I snatched the keys and pumped my fist in the air. Finally something!

“The hell are you on about?” I smiled at the blonde, spinning the ring on keys on one finger. Meanwhile Izuku beamed.

“Y/n you’re amazing! Maybe we’ll find a ride out of here in the school parking lot!” Bakugou clued in after our exchange, subtly grinning a little. He looked relieved. He wouldn’t feel trapped once we got outta here, that gave me relief too.

..:::::..

Eventually, we gave in to Bakugou. Whether it’s kill us or not, we kinda did need more than one bag, so a backpack of junkfood and stuff from the cafeteria each, we made it out of the building. Which startled all three of us. Suddenly the sky was near pitch black, a blanket of darkness smothering the formerly warm hues of sunset. I felt a shiver run down my arms. Not good.

“H-hey.” I turned to a shaky looking Bakugou, he looked me in the eye sternly. “Get, the keys. Don’t move.” He whispered, turning to Deku on the last part. I slowly dug into my pocket, praying I wouldn’t drop them with my clammy fingers. I quickly found the black one that looked to be for a car, trying my best o ignore the few shadowy figures I saw in my peripheral vision. I looked at Bakugou, the spooked teen looked to me waiting in suspense. I looked forward to the almost deserted school parking lot, lacking in the cars of the lucky ones that got out of this mess early. The gravel under my foot seemed louder than anything in the silence of twilight, as I stepped forward. I stealthily did it again, finally raising my arm with the keys. I flinched, keeping one eye open as I put pressure on the button. The chime of an opened vehicle met my ears, along with the orange, white and red light I received from it. I saw it right away, it was in the corner of the lot, practically begging me to sprint and get into to the sweet safety of a vehicle. I turned back to the boys, who’s heads flipped to the side right away.

“Uraaaaagh-raaagh-REEUHHAHG.” Screeches could be heard from areas of the lot unknown to us, thanks to the pitch black. We shook in fear and all made eye contact, practically screaming at each other ‘run!’. So we all sprinted down the parking lot, like crazy looking teenagers frantically dashing to the only light they could see in the blind darkness. We were all nearing the car, so far so good. I could see the shape of the car instead of just it’s lights now, since I was closer, I decided to click the ‘quick start’ button in a frenzy of panic. It gave me an even better view of my destination, only for it to be blocked within seconds, a tall figure stumbling in front of me. My heart sunk immediately. I tried not to scream, so I froze with my hands full, unsure what to do as it turned to me and I screeched to a halt.

“H-hah-uh.” My pants and breath turned into a shaky mess of broken words, I trembled, surrendering to the power of fear and the dark with widened eyes of terror. I heard more somewhere around the lot, making me feel even more screwed, and my anxiety and fear sky rocketed. Hearing someone curse under their breath I flinched, feeling a hand grab my waist and push me away to cut infront of me. I heard the bounce of a backpack and he let out a ferocious grunt, raising his steel pipe over his shoulder and smacking it upside the head mercilessly. It wobbled to recover, only for Bakugou to rise higher and hit it again, the singing of flying metal filling the parking lot. My eyes were dragged from the now bloody pavement I could see under the car’s headlights when Bakugou turned to me. I caught his determined ruby red eyes revealed form behind his spiky blonde hair, wondering if he’d got the several ‘thank yous’ I just screamed in my head for his existence. That was too close. He didn’t wait for me to react and snatched my arm and ran with me, throwing my body into the car for good measure, just in case I was still frozen and stupid. Izuku followed in shortly, practically belly flopping across the back seats and scrambling to slam the door on a frantic mission of survival. Realizing I was in the passengers seat, I panicked and threw the keysto Bakugou, who got the thing driving almost immediately after yanking the gear shift. I heard shuffling and a struggling ‘WAIT!-‘ from the back followed by an equally struggling ‘DIEEEEE!’ as I was flung back into my seat with the sudden force of movement. Bakuboy had stomped onto the gas peddle, almost killing all three of us by randomly shooting us forward. I recovered and sat up, bringing my focus to the front window. Immediately seeing a chain link fence fading from black and coming right for us!

I jumped out of my seat, dove for the his side, and sharply yanked the steering wheel my way.

“DAMMIT BAKUBOY!!!” Causing us all to lean to the left in the tilting vehicle from the sharp turn. I was still terrified and cautious, but I heard Izuku sigh in relief and let go of my leathery seat. The headlights eventually lit up the exit, and he once again slammed his foot down, but a little softer this time. I braved myself by clutching my armrest. We zoomed off of school grounds. Making it to the street, which for some reason gave Bakagou the ‘a-okay’ to speed us through town, frightening both of his passengers. I sighed, for some reason, the air grew thick and tense. So I broke the silence as usual,

“T-that,” I couldn’t hide the lingering excitement of adrenaline in my voice. “was fucking insane.” I’ve never done anything like that before. Looting a school and jacking someone’s ride! This is crazy! I shook my head, “Nevermind, this is fucking insane.” I laughed, feeling a little victorious. “We made it!” I didn’t see Bakugou smirk, but I could tell he took my talking as permission to be loud.

“FINALLY, FUCKING FREEDOM!” Despite only being in UA for a couple hours, he sounded ecstatic. I looked to the boy driving, who currently reminded me of a canine with his head sticking out of a car window. He’d rolled down his window, making the air swish his blonde and already messy hair everywhere and over his forehead with the dumbest grin on his face. I stared a little flustered at how good he looked smiling like this. What a cute little pup.

I giggled and mumbled without thinking, “Heh! Remind me not to put you on a leash.” I got a ‘pfft!’ Out of him and a giggle from Izuku in the back.

“The fuck’d you say baby?!” He turned to me without a care in the world, half-laughing. My breath caught in my throat and the car went silent. I felt my cheeks catch fire. Did he just- Until I bursted out laughing. I know he meant to call me a baby, like literally, but this was just too good.

“Ooh~ I never would’ve guessed you were one for pet-na-“

“SHUT IT BABYFACE* YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANT-“ his cheeks went red and all calmness vanished, but I could still see a smile dancing on his nervous lips.

“Awe~ Bak you’re such a romantic-“

“I JUST CALLED YOU AN ANNOYING PUNY HUMAN WHO SHITS A LOT DON’T TAKE IT AS A COMPLIMENT!” My laughing only intensified and Izuku slapped a hand over his mouth, I was gonna start crying. Izuku moved his hand to his forehead and chuckled catching a glare from our driver.

We just drove with no place in mind, cracking jokes and poking fun at a flustered and impaired driver Bakugou. I smiled and looked at the both of them arguing. For the first time in a while, I finally felt like I knew what it was like to have friends again.

..:::::..

______

Another part done! Hope you enjoyed and remember to give me some feedback! Thanks for reading! PS sorry if this is a little rushed, I’ll try to spend more time on the next part!!

#boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha scenario #bnha imagines #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha imagine #bnha zombie apocalypse au #zombie apocalypse au #apocalypse

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luukia · 6 years

Text

Alsar Chapter 7

Chapter 7 : My Aptitude is Support Magic!

A/N : Finally! Magic!

“Ah, I sleep really well.”

I woke up in my room. This is the room that Malik-san gave to me when I first came to his house.

Yesterday after we came back from the guild, I cooked dinner. Considering that was the first time for me to handle Alsar’s ingredient, I think I did quite a good job. I cooked about for 4 people of serving. I made nikujaga (T/N : A japanese dish, basically meat and potatoes) with spinach and miso soup.

Malik-san chowed down everything, he liked it so much.

I was surprised when I saw japanese seasoning, I guess there must be japanese person who transported here and brought japanese seasoning into Alsar. To think I can still eat miso soup with rice in other world,I’m so happy!

“Yosh, today I will go to the training ground! Today is also the last day of Malik-san holiday so I better use this opportunity well!”

I wear the new clothes I bought yesterday. It’s a black cargo pants with black shirt. Since there’s no adult clothing with my size, we had to shrink the size with [Small] magic.

After I finish dressing up, I leave the room in high spirit.

Today’s breakfast is bread, vegetable soup, smoked pork and salad. To complete it, I’ve already prepared hot coffee too. Yup! Perfect breakfast if I may say!

I look up at the clock. 8:03 AM. I’m going to Malik-san’s room to wake him up. I open the door and call out to him.

“Malik-san, breakfast is ready!~”

Malik-san said to me that usually he woke up at 8ish. Yesterday I overslept but usually I can get up early.

“Ah..it’s morning already? Good morning.. I’m going to change my clothes then I will join you.”

Malik-san scratch his eyes as he wake up. The sight of handsome 47 years old in pajamas, scratching his eyes is too cute! Is this gap moe??

“Good morning. I will be waiting for you then.”

I return to the kitchen and prepares the meal for Malik-san on the table.

“Ah, I sleep really well. Wow, looks delicious! Yesterday’s dinner was delicious too, everything that Ren makes is so delicious!”

Malik-san already changed into his casual clothes and take the seat in front of me.

“I hope the food will suit your taste. Itadakimasu.”

“Itadakimasu.”

Since Malik-san eats a lot, I prepared bigger portion for him but he chow down the food in an instant!

“I still have more bread and soup in the kitchen. Please tell me if you want another serving.”

“Yes. Somehow rather than conversation between son and father, we sound like wife and husband instead. Haha!”

W-wife?! But I’m a man! Though in Alsar that kind of thing doesn’t really matter huh.

“Geez Malik-san, I’m not your wife!”

“Hahaha! Of course one day Ren will be someone else’s husband. I will be looking forward to it!”

“W-what? Please stop talking about that!”

Malik-san seems really want me to get married soon..

We talk while having breakfast, as we talk Malik-san keeps having second helping and as time pass by Malik-san already emptied the whole pot.

I use [Clean] to clean all the utensils and [Wash] to clean the laundry. Malik-san taught me [Wash] yesterday night. Even though the laundry is already clean thanks to magic, I still hang the laundry. It feels wrong otherwise. I see some people still hang their laundry too so I guess I’m not the only one with sentiment like that.

After that, I clean the house with the occasional help from [Clean].

“Yup, you’re definitely going to be a good housewife.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing! If you’re finished, let’s head to the training ground. Though using swords seems impossible for Ren, I want to see your aptitude with magic.”

He says some rude things, I should be angry at him but it is the truth..

Anyway! Finally I can practice magic! I’m so excited!

“Let’s go, Ren!”

“Ah wait, put this in your magic bag. I made it for our lunch.”

“Ooooh, lunch! Thanks! Ah, right Ren didn’t have magic bag yet.”

I made sandwich for our lunch. It’s just a simple sandwich though so it’s nothing extravagant. I want magic bag too! Seems like the magic bag that Malik-san uses is about 50.000 elk. The price of the bag will get more expensive accordingly to the size.

It will take me forever to save up to 50.000 elk, I will strive for more affordable price instead. I’m going to do a lot of quests and save money! Fighting!

~*~

“The training ground is right behind the guild. Let’s go in now.”

“Okay. Excuse me.”

We enter through the yesterday’s guild entrance.

“Ah! Ren-san! Master! What brought you here today?”

“Hey. We’re going to the training ground.”

Tord-san greets happily. He’s such energetic guy. Malik-san beckon me to follow him, he’s heading to another door, I assume it’s the door to the training ground.

“Well, I’ll see you soon Tord-san, goodbye.”

“Bye bye Ren-san! Good luck!”

*creak* (T/N : sfx for door opening)

“Wow, so wide!”

“Yeah, because when people use magic they tend to need lots of space for it. We don’t want people to get hurt because of stray bullet afterall. And this training ground is open for everyone to practice on.”

“I see.”

The training ground is huge. Probably around 100 meters wide? Since there’s no one here yet it feels like private training ground just for me.

“Okay first.. I want you to try hold a sword. Even though your body is too frail, you still need to be able to have the basic physical training. Hmm, I think this sword is good for you. It’s thin and not as heavy as the others.”

Malik-san pulls a small sword from the weapon rack and swing it lightly.

Finally, my first time wielding a weapon!

“Oof! So heavy! Forget swinging it, even holding it is hard for me..”

“Is that so? Sorry, that is the lightest sword here. I guess I need to put an order for smaller sword for you. Let’s give up on sword.”

When Malik-san holds the sword in one hand, it looks really small and light but when I try to hold it, it was really heavy! And to think it was the lightest one here..

“Yeah, it’s too heavy for me.”

“If it gets any lighter than this, the sword won’t be able to do much damage you know. So it’s kind of useless if it gets any lighter than this.”

What?!

I guess this is the moment I’m officially disqualified from using sword in Alsar.

“Don’t feel down! Come on, let’s practice magic instead!”

“Yes!”

That’s right! Malik-san said that my magic power is high, right?! At least I have it going for me which is good. Let’s not feel discouraged!

“It’s better if you have a staff to help you concentrate your magic better but even without a staff you can still cast magic though. First, let’s try basic fire magic [Fire Arrow].”

Malik-san clenches his fist and suddenly 3 fire arrows materializes in front of him. He shoots it and hit the target mark precisely, leaving a trail of burn behind.

“Wooh! SO COOL! AMAZING!”

“Hahaha, thanks! Okay now you try it. Remember, the basic of magic is imagination. First, try to imagine one fire arrow and after it materialize, shoot it.”

I wonder if I’m able to do it..

I hold my hand forward and try to imagine it just like Malik-san said.

“[Fire Arrow].. Eh?”

A fire arrow the size of 2b pencil fly out for about 1 meter before it dies out by itself.

“O-oh.. Ren you’re not suited for fire attribute, let’s move on to water now!”

“I-Is that so! Let’s move on then!”

Malik-san, he tried to hide his shocked face but it was no use. He was clearly surprised. He tried to cheer me by saying I’m not suited for fire attribute instead. Thank you Malik-san.

~*~

I tried water magic and a light shower water came.

Wind magic, a fluttering wind like a fan on low level came.

Earth magic, I made some kind of small bump.

Tree magic? I made one branch. Just one branch.

Lightning magic, I made small static.

I tried other magic too but none of them is powerful enough.

“... I don’t have any talent in magic too..”

“Hmm, from what I see your magic power is high but the output is somehow really low. Maybe it’s because you’re too exhausted.”

Malik-san, are you trying to comfort me? Even though you said my magic power is high, it’s no use if I can’t use it properly.

“Ren-san, it’s almost time for lunch. Do you guys want to eat together ?”

Tord-san suddenly come and asks us to join with him for lunch. Now that I think about it, I did hear the bell ringing. Had I been firing magic for that long? I didn’t realize.

“Tord-san..It seems like I’m useless both in swordsmanship and magic.”

“Eh? For real? Even though you have such high amount of magic power? Oh that’s right, have you tried support magic?”

“Ah, right! Support magic! I totally forgot about since I’m bad at it. Tord, after lunch please show Ren some support magic, I’m starving.”

Is..there’s still hope for me? Am I not useless afterall?

Malik-san slung his magic bag and walk toward the dining hall with Tord-san following from behind. I wash my hand first at the washroom near the entrance of the training hall before I follow suit.

~*~

“So what do you think?”

“Like what I said to Ren earlier, his magic power is high but he doesn’t have aptitude for any elemental we’ve tried so far. Maybe just like what Tord said, support magic would suit Ren better.”

When I approached Malik-san and Tord-san, they were sitting on the round table while talking about me. I heard them talking about my training. Ah, I feel useless. I don’t have any talent in both magic and physical strength. Does Malik-san regret making me his son? I really don’t want to disappoint Malik-san..

“Ah Ren is here, let’s have lunch now!”

Malik-san notices me approaching them, he opens his magic bag and takes out the sandwiches that I’ve prepared beforehand. Since I didn’t find any lunch boxes in Malik-san house, I wrapped the sandwiches in paper wrap.

“The hell is that? Looks super delicious!”

“Ren made it. Are you jealous? I bet you are.”

Tord-san seems to get agitated thanks to Malik-san teasing him.

“Do you want one? I’ve prepared a lot so it’s fine. This one is chicken teriyaki, this one is smoked pig with tomato, this one is smoked pig with ritas and the last one is chicken with egg. Which one do you want?”

“Ah Ren-san you’re so kind! Everything sounds delicious! Aah, I’m going to choose this one then.”

Tord-san take the teriyaki chicken one. I actually wanted to make more but I didn’t have enough time so I only able to prepare 4 types.

“ *Chomps* Uwaaah! So delish!~ *chomps chomps*”

“Right?? Ren’s cooking is so delicious!~”

“I’m glad you like it. If you want you can have another one, Tord-san.”

I’m happy that they eat my cooking with such delightful face. Malik-san finishes one sandwich with only 2 bites, just how big is his mouth is?

I share my portion to Tord-san, although it seems like he’s still not full yet.

“Ahh, so delicious! I’m glad I decided to make Ren my son! Oi, Tord stop eating too much! You want Ren to go hungry?!”

“But it’s too delicious! I can’t stop eating! Ah Ren-san if you’re still hungry feel free to order something, it’s on my tab!”

Seems like Malik-san already finished eating. Tord-san guiltily pointing at the counter.

“It’s okay, I made a lot afterall.”

“You sure? Well if we’ve finished eating here, let’s head back to the training ground. I will show you some support magic!”

Support magic! My only hope left! If I fail at it, I guess I will give up on becoming adventurer. It’s too dangerous if I don’t have any talent in anything. I will search for another peaceful job. But..I still hope I can continue on being adventurer.

“Yes, please. Ah but what about your job, Tord-san?”

“Yes! It’s okay, providing help for adventurer is also part of my job so it’s okay. Let’s go~”

If this is also part of his job then I’m glad. I don’t want him to slack off because of me. We clean up after our meal quickly and go back to the training ground to continue my training.

~*~

“You see, I’m a beastman but I also good at support magic which is rare for a beastman. Since usually a beastman is like strike first, talk later kinda thing. They always dive first into the battle without thinking. Truly a muscle head!”

Tord-san explains to me the usual characteristic of a beastman. I see, it suits their stereotype huh to be hot headed.

“The basic of support magic is healing magic like [Heal], detoxification magic like [Cure], buff magic like [Might] and [Shield]. There’s also offensive one like [Sleep] to put our enemy into sleep, [Roots] to entangle our enemy. The main purpose of support magic is to support the party to make sure the party able to show their true potential.”

Actually back in japan, my most favorite profession in MMO is support. I really like supporting the hitter or tank from behind. If I can become a support in Alsar, I would be happy since it suits my preference.

“Okay then let’s try it ! Focus on Master and chant [Might], go!”

“Yes! [Might]!”

I extended my hand toward Malik-san and shouted the chant. Suddenly a bright spots of light surrounded Malik-san and fade away.

“Ah..It disappeared.. Did I fail?”

“No, not at all! This is amazing! I can feel power surging inside me. Ren, I think you might have an aptitude with support magic!”

“Ooh! Good for you, Ren-san!”

Eeeh? For real?? I did it??

“Let’s try another buff magic.”

“Ren-san, once more focus on Master and chant [Shield].”

“[Shield]!”

Once again, another fluttering light came and fade away just as quick. From the name, I think [Shield] will increase Malik-san defensive power but I don’t know in what way?

“Okay, Tord try to hit me with all you got!”

“Here I come!”

Tord-san strike at Malik-san arm with his fist without any hesitation.

“O-ouch! It hurts! Master’s arm feels like an iron!”

“Ah, are you alright?!”

Tord-san is holding his hand half crying, I think he bruised his hand.

“Ren-san support magic is amazing! That hit just know feels like a feather touch. Since Tord already hurt, try [Heal] on him.”

“O-Okay, [Heal]!”

That hit just now felt like a feather? Unbelievable. I reach out to Tord-san and cast the healing magic. Another light surrounds Tord-san’s hand and fade away.

“For healing magic, the closer the distance is, the less magic power you will need and the greater the effect too. You can cast the healing magic even if you’re not close with the target but it will require more concentration.”

“I see!”

Malik-san explains to me the basic of healing magic, as he explains it to me I see the red mark on Tord-san’s hand disappear.

‘Ren-san this is amazing! In the blink of an eye, I don’t feel any pain anymore! The bruise also disappear completely without a scratch!”

“Really? Ah, I’m glad there’s a magic that I’m good at..”

I’m so relieved! When I failed at swords and battle magic, I thought I was done for! Ah to think there’s still hope for me!

But since it’s support magic that means I need to have someone to support to. I need to find a party then. Even back when I play mmo, going solo while using support class is basically suicide.

“Umm, since this is support magic..That’s mean I can’t go on my own then?”

“Yeah, you will need to join a party to utilize it. Since there’s not much people who is able to use support magic, the demand for support is really high! So it’s going to be alright! Though for Ren right now, you can’t take the quest which support class is needed yet so I guess the only quest for you right now is ingredient gathering.”

“I knew it..”

I knew it! Back when I play mmo, it was hard for me too since I can’t go solo! Well, as long there’s quest I can do, I don’t mind.

“Then I would like to take the ingredient gathering quest tomorrow then. Please tell me how.”

“Okay, then let’s return to the guild.”

“But it’s good you’re suitable for support magic! The truth is, if you don’t even have talent for support magic, it would’ve been impossible for you to become an adventurer.”

Yes, it’s truly a relief for me. The three of us then return to the guild. I feel the weight on my shoulder has been lifted. I’m so glad!

~*~

A/N:

Usually in an MMO there,s more specification regarding support class like :

Healer = focuses on healing the party.

Buffer = focuses on improving the status of the party.

But in this novel I decided to just generalize it into single profession.

I’ve played several MMO and I always use support to. I tried to use dps but I’m not suited for it.

~*~

T/N : Ah as for me if I play MMO, I like to become dps instead. Like wizard or assassin. Anyway I’m glad Ren able to find his calling! Truly a wife material! His aptitude is support magic and he’s really good at cooking and housework!

Chapter 6

Index

Chapter 8

#alsar #webnovel #translated

12 notes · View notes

summaryi · 6 years

Text

The Language of Flowers - Vanessa Diffenbaugh

I cried my way through every chapter.

Thank you, Vanessa Diffenbaugh, for this book.

www.camellianetwork.org

Victoria’s Dictionary of Flowers

abutilon: meditation

acacia: secret love

acanthus: artifice

agapanthus: love letter

allium: prosperity

almond blossom: indiscretion

aloe: grief

alstroemeria: devotion

alyssum: worth beyond beauty

amaranth: immortality

amaryllis: pride

anemone: forsaken

angelica: inspiration

apple: temptation

apple blossom: preference

aster: patience

azalea: fragile and ephemeral passion

baby’s breath: everlasting love

bachelor’s button: single blessedness

basil: hate

bay leaf: i change but in death

begonia: caution

bellflower: gratitude

bells of ireland: good luck

birds of paradise: magnificence

blackberry: envy

black-eyed susan: justice

bluebell: constancy

bougainvillea: passion

bouvardia: enthusiasm

broom: humility

buttercup: ingratitude

cabbage: profit

cactus: ardent love

calla lily: modesty

camellia: my destiny is in your hands

candytuft: indifference

canterbury bells: constancy

carnation, pink: i will never forget you

carnation, red: my heart breaks

carnation, striped: i cannot be with you

carnation, white: sweet and lovely

carnation, yellow: disdain

celandine: joys to come

chamomile: energy in adversity

cherry blossom: impermanence

chervil: sincerity

chestnut: do me justice

chicory: frugality

chrysanthemum: truth

cinquefoil: beloved daughter

clematis: poverty

clove: i have loved you and you have not known it

clover, white: think of me

cockscomb: affectation

columbine: desertion

coreopsis: always cheerful

coriander: hidden worth

corn: riches

cosmos: joy in love and life

cowslip: pensiveness

crab-apple blossom: ill-tempered

cranberry: cure for heartache

crocus: youthful gladness

currant: thy frown will kill me

cyclamen: timid hope

cypress: mourning

daffodil: new beginnings

dahlia: dignity

daisy: innocence

daisy, gerber: cheerfulness

dandelion: rustic oracle

daphne: i would not have you otherwise

dayliy: coquetry

delphinium: levity

dianthus: make haste

dittany: childbirth

dogwood: love undiminished by adversity

dragon plant: you are near a snare

edelweiss: noble courage

elder: compassion

eucalyptus: protection

euphorbia: persistence

evening primrose: inconstancy

everlasting pea: lasting pleasure

Fennel: strength

fern: sincerity

fern, maidenhair: secrecy

feverfew: warmth

fig: argument

flax: i feel your kindness

forget-me-not: forget me not

forsythia: anticipation

foxglove: insincerity

freesia: lasting friendship

fuchsia: humble love

gardenia: refinement

gentian: intrinsic worth

geranium, oak-leaf: true friendship

geranium, pencil-leaf: ingenuity

geranium, scarlet: stupidity

geranium, wild: steadfast piety

ginger: strength

gladiolus: you pierce my heart

goldenrod: careful encouragement

grapevine: abundance

grass: submission

hawthorne: hope

hazel: reconciliation

heath: solitude

heather: protection

helenium: tears

heliotrope: devoted affection

hibiscus: delicate beauty

holly: foresight

hollyhock: ambition

honesty: honesty

honeysuckle: devotion

hyacinth, blue: constancy

hyacinth, purple: please forgive me

hyacinth, white: beauty

hydrangea: dispassion

ice plant: your looks freeze me

impatiens: impatience

iris: message

ivy: fidelity

jacob’s ladder: come down

jasmine, carolina: separation

jasmine, indian: attachment

jasmine, white: amiability

jonquil: desire

laburnum: pensive beauty

lady’s slipper: capricious beauty

lantana: rigor

larch: audacity

larkspur: lightness

laurel: glory and success

lavender: mistrust

lemon: zest

lemon blossom: discretion

lettuce: coldheartedness

liatris: i will try again

lichen: dejection

lilac: first emotions of love

lily: majesty

lily of the valley: return of happiness

linden tree: conjugal love

lisianthus: appreciation

lobelia: malevolence

lotus: purity

love-in-a-mist: perplexity

love-lies-bleeding: hopeless but not helpless

lungwort: you are my life

lupine: imagination

magnolia: dignity

marigold: grief

marjoram: blushes

marsh marigold: desire for riches

meadow saffron: my best days are past

meadowsweet: uselessness

michealmas daisy: farewell

mignonette: your qualities surpass your charms

mimosa: sensitivity

mistletoe: i surmount all obstacles

mock orange: counterfeit

monkshood: chivalry

morning glory: coquetry

moss: maternal love

mullein: take courage

mustard: i am hurt

myrtle: love

narcissus: self-love

nasturtium: impetuous love

nettle: cruelty

oats: the witching soul of music

oleander: beware

olive: peace

orange: generosity

orange blossom: your purity equals your loveliness

orchid: refined beauty

oregano: joy

pansy: think of me

parsley: festivity

passionflower: faith

peach: your charms are unequaled

peach blossom: i am your captive

pear: affection

pear blossom: comfort

peony: anger

peppermint: warmth of feeling

periwinkle: tender recollections

persimmon: bury me amid nature’s beauty

petunia: your presence soothes me

phlox: our souls are united

pineapple: you are perfect

pinnk: pure love

plum: keep your promises

poinsettia: be of good cheer

polyanthus: confidence

pomegranate: foolishness

pomegranate blossom: mature elegance

poplar, black: courage

poplar, white: time

poppy: fantastic extravagance

potato: benevolence

potato vine: you are delicious

primrose: childhood

protea: courage

purple coneflower: strength and health

queen anne’s lace: fantasy

quince: temptation

ranunculus: you are radiant with charms

raspberry: remorse

redbud: betrayal

rhododendron: beware

rhubarb: advice

rose, burgundy: unconscious beauty

rose, moss: confession of love

rose, orange: fascination

rose, pale peach: modesty

rose, pink: grace

rose, purple: enchantment

rose, red: love

rose, white: a heart unacquainted with love

rose, yellow: infidelity

rosemary: remembrance

saffron: beware of excess

sage: good health and long life

saint-john’s-wort: superstition

saxifraga: affection

scabiosa: unfortunate love

scarlet pimpernel: change

snapdragon: presumption

snowdrop: consolation and hope

sorrel: parental affection

speedwell: fidelity

spirea: victory

star-of-bethlehem: purity

starwort: welcome

stephanotis: happiness in marriage

stock: you will always be beautiful to me

stonecrop: tranquility

strawberry: perfection

sunflower: false riches

sweet briar: simplicity

sweet pea: delicate pleasures

sweet william: gallantry

tansy: i declare war against you

thistle, common: misanthropy

thrift: sympathy

thyme: activity

trachelium: neglected beauty

trillium: modest beauty

trumpet vine: fame

tuberose: dangerous pleasures

tulip: declaration of love

turnip: charity

verbena: pray for me

vetch: i cling to thee

violet: modest worth

wallflower: fidelity in adversity

water lily: purity of heart

waxflower: susceptibility

wheat: prosperity

white monte casino: patience

willow herb: pretension

winter cherry: deception

wisteria: welcome

witch hazel: a spell

yarrow: cure for a broken heart

zinnia: i mourn your absence

#the language of flowers #vanessa diffenbaugh #camellia network #camellia

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pastelgaykid22 · 6 years

Text

Drama Club

Not edited so expect mistakes

No POV

Not Dating Yet

♡

"No no no. You are all terrible. Let's try it again from the top." Eddie face palms watching his fellow club members stubble around on stage like fish out of water. "Stop, just stop. You're supost to-"

Eddie was cut off by some one loudly opening the door letting it slam against the wall then slam shut. "Sorry, I couldn't find where to go." The male sounding voice echoes off the walls of the big theater.

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns around to face the new student who's running down to the stage. Eddie instantly noticed who it was. I mean he only shared like every class with his since the sixth grade. And it wasn't till the tenth grade that Eddie realized he was in love with this boy who barely knew him. Sure he asked for answers and maybe even a pencil every know and then but besides that they have never even talked. Eddie takes in a deep breath and uses his acting skills to stay calm and pretend like he's never seen the boy. "You're 30 minutes late." Eddie crosses his arms and glairs up at the much taller boy. "Ya know what whatever, what's your name new kid?"

"Richard Tozier, but everyone calls me Richie." The taller boy smiles and hands Eddie a slip of paper.

"I'm Eddie." Eddie quickly scans it and something catches his eye. "So you're doing this to raise your grade?"

Richie nods and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yea, I kinda fucking suck at classes so they said I could do this to help or some shit."

"Fine, but if I'm letting you do this you have to straighten up. Drop the trashmouth, stand up straight, spit out your gum, and get up on that stage." Eddie quickly grabs a script and pushes it to Richie chest. "Now go." Richie laughs and rolls his eyes and slowly walk on to the stage. "Ok you know what I changed my mind everyone sit down behind me." Everyone cheers and runs to a seat in the audience. "Everyone but you Richard." Richie stops half way down the stairs, that lead off the stage, and sighs turning back around going back on the stage. Eddie smirks and jumps up on the stage. "Now let's see how good you are."

Richie rolls his eyes and drops the script by his feet. "Well what do you wanna see?"

"Can you sing?" Eddie smiles when Richie nods. "Can you dance?"

Richie shrugs. "I don't know. I never tried."

"Can you act?"

Richie throws his hands up and shrugs again. "Again, I never tried."

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Ugh you're useless. Well what can you sing?"

Richie tences up and nervously laughs. "Y-you want me to sing now?"

Eddie nods and crosses his arms. "Yea, if you're gonna do this you're gonna have to sing in front of everyone at any time."

Richie sighs and runs his finger threw his hair. "Fine. But can you sing with me."

Eddie smiles and nods. "Of course! Do you know Seasons Of Love?"

"Uh what?"

Eddie glares up at Richie looking dissapoited. "The song, from Rent."

"Oh, yea I love that movie." Richie smiles and Eddie runs over to the piano sitting on stage left. (That means of your standing in the audience it's on the right)

Eddie smiles and silently cracks his nuckles and plays a few notes before looking at Richie. "You ready?"

Richie nods and Eddie starts to play. Richie stands next to him astonished by how well Eddie can play. Eddie stops playing and looks at Richie. "Well you gonna sing or not?"

"Oh shit, yea. Sorry." Richie smiles and watches him play again. The Richie softly starts singing.

"If you wanna pass then you gotta sing louder new kid!"

Richie sighs and sings a bit louder. Eddie blushes as he plays along begining to sing too. Richie sings looking at Eddie smiling. He was really good. I mean you kinda have to be if you're gonna be the leader of the drama club.

The boys finish the first verse and Eddie stops and looks at Richie with a big smile. "You're not to bad Richie. How about you stay after practice a bit."

Richie nods and smiles a bit.

...

"So.. Richard Tozier?" Eddie sits on the top of the piano with a smile as Richie sits in the piano's small bench. "You're grades suck so you come here to get higher scores."

Richie nods playing a few random notes. "Yea and as soon as my grades get back up I'll never have to take to you ever again."

"What? You can't do that? You're amazing!" Eddie blushes and looks away. "It's like you were born to be on stage, like me."

Richie runs his hand through his hair and shrugs. "Yea no, theater deffently isn't my thing. I'm more of a sports guy."

Eddie sighs and adjusts himself on the piano. "But in theatre you get to sing to all those cute girls in the audience."

Richie sighs and rolls his eyes. "No way, all the girls here are sluts and whores." Eddie giggles causing Richie to smile. "I would rather date a guy then one of those bitches."

"Wait really?" Eddie trys to hide a smile but fails.

"Deffently. As long as the person's cute, funny, smart, you know shit like that, I don't care what gender they are."

Eddie's face heats up quickly. "O-oh.." Eddie smiles like an idiot as he trys try not to blush so much.

Richie see Eddie and laughs a bit to himself. This was deffently gonna be a start to a great friendship and maybe even more.

...

"Ok people. Eddie's running a little late so I'll be couching you today, or at least until he shows up." Everyone rolls their eyes and get into the stage. "So, as you all know we are holding auditions for the musical Grease. So if you take a look at this paper-"

"You should totally be Danny Zuko!" A short little nerdy girl with suspenders, glasses, braces, and a small lisp scream from the back of the stage. "And I can be your Sandy Olsson."

Richie smiles and nervously laughs. "Yea, we'll see about that."

Everyone turns to face the back of the auditorium when the door slowly creeks open. "Sorry I'm late."

Richie smiles seeing his best friend but his smile fades when he sees him not smiling. "Uh ok everyone start doing warm up and shit, I'll be right back." Everyone looks at eachother and starts happily talking about auditions. "Is something wrong?"

Eddie looks up at Richie and smiles a bit. "No, I'm fine. It's just weird being late, I mean I am the director of this club so shouldn't I be on time?"

Richie takes Eddie's chin making him look up at him. "Eds come on, you can tell me."

Eddie blushes brightly and pushes Richie's hand away. "Don't call me that. And I'm fine ok? Now let's get on with practice." Eddie smiles and drops his bag by the stage then quickly runs up on to it. "So auditions are tomorrow and we will..."

Eddie's voice fades out as Richie watches from the audience with a dorky smile as Eddie leads the class. Richie he's deffently fallen in love with theater, and he never wanted to leave the stage.

"Richie!" Eddie yells down, snaming the boy out of his thoughts. "Can you play the roll of Danny?"

Richie smiles widely and nods. "Of course!"

Eddie smiles and turns back to the group. "Great. Now girls, there can only be one Sandy. And if you wanna get the chance to be here make sure you show up tomorrow." All the girls begin to whisper and stair at Richie lovingly. I mean he was perfict in every way, and puberty deffently treated him right. Eddie jumps off the stage and stands next to Richie. "All these girls are doing this just so they can kiss you."

Richie's eyes widen and he pulls Eddie aside so no one can hear them. "Wait, so one of these girls has to kiss me?" Richie's heart stops when Eddie nods. "But none of them are even cute."

Eddie giggles and brushes some hair behind his ear. "Well it's gonna have to happen with some one Richie."

...

It was the big night, the night of the play. Richie sits in the back fixing his hair trying to look nice.

Eddie smiles seeing Richie trying to fix everything up. Eddie walks over and pulls Richie's hands down. "Stop it, you look fine."

Richie sighs and looks at Eddie in the mirror. "Yea I know it's just... I'm kinda nervous. And I don't wanna kiss her."

Eddie giggles and lets go of Richie's hand. "Come on Sally isn't that bad." Eddie smiles and looks over at the nerdy girl who's trying to put in contacts and practicing to hide her lisp.

Richie looks over and cringes. "No she's pretty bad."

Eddie lightly slaps Richie's arm. "Richie that's not nice."

"Hey but it's the truth." Richie shrugs and goes back to fixing himself up.

Eddie rolls his eyes and pats Richie's back. "You'll be fine and everything will be great, trust me."

Richie smiles adjusting his glasses, that he refused to take off for the show. "Ok fine, but I'll tell you there is deffently someone else I would much rather be kissing tonight." With that Richie walks off leaving Eddie with pink stained cheeks.

...

Eddie watches from back stage as Richie and Sally perform. Everyone smiles and watches the performance.

Richie smiles and sings, dancing, ect. around the stage with Sally actually having fun with it. Sally lovingly acts along looking at Richie with a big smile. The sceane ends and the crowd cheers loudly. The curtains close to get really ready for the final sceane and song. Richie smiles and looks at Sally nefore running off. Sally grabs Richie's arm and smiles before he can run off. "Ready for the final sceane?"

"I'm sorry but I can't. I'm making a few quick changes. You where great Sally but I'm gonna need your mic and outfit for this last sceane."

Sally's jaw drops and she crosses her arms. "No way. I'm getting that dang kiss."

Richie sighs and quickly kisses Sally's cheek. "There happy?"

Sally squeels and melts almost. "Ok you can have my stuff now."

Richie smiles widely and kisses her cheek again. "Thank you so much Sally."

Eddie watches from the side and slowly walks up to Richie. "What's going on?"

"No time to explain. You know the last song right? And all the lines?"

"Yea of course. Why?"

"Good, well go get ready cause you're gonna the new Sandy."

Eddie face quickly turns blood red. "W-what? No I can't I-"

"You have to Sally isn't felling well and you're the only one that knows all the lines." Richie smiles and lies the best he can.

Eddie sighs and runs off to quickly get ready. Eddie comes back head down blush ing like crazy. Wearing the tightish clothes that actully fit him perfectly, and a small little blond wig. Richie giggles and takes Eddie's hand causing him to blush more. "You remember what I said before?" Eddie nods trying not to die. "You're that person Eds. You're amazing and as the song says, well, you're the one that I want."

Eddie smiles widely and squeezes Richie's hand. "Really?"

Richie nods and kisses Eddie's cheek causing Eddie to almost die. "Of course, now let's do this shit. Together." Richie smiles and tolds there hands up a bit.

Eddie nods and smiles. "Together."

The curtains open and everyone cheers then quickly goes quite when they see Eddie instead of Sally. Eddie bites his lip and quickly grows nervous. Richie smiles and whispers covering the mic so only Eddie can hear. "Some amazing person once told me, 'if you're gonna do this you're gonna have to sing in front of everyone at anytime.'"

Eddie giggles and whispers back. "Hey, I said that."

Richie smiles and nods. "Yea now let's fucking do this."

Eddie smiles and begins to resight Sandy's lines that he had known by heart ever since he was 5. Everyone in the audience laughs when he adds some lines or acts completely like a girl. Richie smiles watching Eddie act out Sandy's part perfectly. After a few lines are said and done the song starts and everyone cheers knowing what's comming. Richie smiles widely adjusting his glasses and begining to sing.

Richie and Eddie dance around the stage singing and just having fun with it, letting there true feelings show cause everyone will just think it's acting. Once the song starts coming close to the end the boys take each others hands and sing the last part before Richie spins Eddie around and dips him, smashing their lips together. The audience cheers giving the boys a standing ovation as they kiss eachother passionately, never wanting this moment to end.

#reddie oneshots #reddie #my stories

2 notes · View notes

ulyssesredux · 6 years

Text

Proteus

Belluomo rises from the suck and turned back by the mallet of Los Demiurgos. Who? The country gentry of old playfellows. But she was not among the spluttering resin fires. Unheeded he kept at a calf's gallop. He turned, bounded back, came nearer, trotted on twinkling shanks. Già. Oh yes, W. Ringsend: wigwams of brown steersmen and master Shapland Tandy, filing consents and common searches and a writ of Duces Tecum. Prix de paris: beware of imitations. But his relations with Mr. Cadwallader was a fellow I knew in Paris; boul' Mich', I used to say, it seems to me. Hello! Mary saw old Peter Featherstone was buried. Yes, a stride at a calf's gallop. I have expressed a decided wish, and looking at her back. In sleep the wet sign calls her hour, the banging door of the gone.

That one is at one with one of those who are haughty, and the other, for everything that you seem not to see at the same family connection, and not rutted. I thirst. Dog of my 'secret meddling,and my 'false assent. Among gumheavy serpentplants, milkoozing fruits, where on the morning I cannot bear to come and tell you. In cups of rocks it slops: flop, slop, slap: bounded in barrels. A primrose doublet, fortune's knave, smiled on my fear. His arm: Cranly's arm. Old Kilkenny: saint Canice, Strongbow's castle on the land just left him as he took a fragrant apple from the crested tide, that, I wonder, or does it mean something perhaps? You bowed to yourself in the quaking soil. Has all vanished since? A bogoak frame over his books. Mary went out of the air high spars of a spongy titbit, flash through the air high spars of a threemaster, her matin incense, court the air, scraped up the sand, trotting, sniffing on all sides. He now inferred that she had knocked down somebody's property and broken it against her will, when Caleb, in her lightest tones, Tertius, come here. She was going to Quallingham. Hauled stark over the sharp rocks, cramming the scribbled note and pencil into a dance. I throw this ended shadow from me, her lips often curling with amusement at the wavenoise, herds of seamorse.

I shall do as I like at the last. He was dropping off to the Blessed Virgin that you might not have witnessed this scene of old time lived in a ladychapel another taking housel all to his ear, while Christy, the things I married into!

And no more turn aside and brood. Darkly they are cottagers. Gold light on sea, mouth to her mouth's kiss. He drones bars of Ferrando's aria di sortita. Bits all khrrrrklak in place clack back. He takes me, without me. Postprandial. It was certainly not her plainness that attracted them and then went away to her mouth's kiss. Did, faith. A point, live dog, grew into sight running across the sweep of sand, a warren of weasel rats. He takes me, said Mr. Farebrother, there is nothing else. Garth, with decision. Ah, turning his eyes, his bat sails bloodying the sea and wet sand slapped his boots. His mouth moulded issuing breath, unspeeched: ooeeehah: roar of cataractic planets, globed, blazing, roaring wayawayawayawayaway. Descende, calve, ut ne amplius decalveris. He had been paid three and twopence, and she was aggrieved, and spread his arms on the shore; at the same scorn and dislike which she held towards him. But Fred has the same family connection, and watched him as with pincers. Dane vikings, torcs of tomahawks aglitter on their breasts when Malachi wore the collar of gold.

I am fond of her experience seemed to certify that the answer was thoroughly compliant. The dog yelped running to them, the steeds of Mananaan. Would you like. Pretenders: live their lives.

I suppose it served instead of Miss Garth, smiling at the Trinity. Sounds solid: made by the Poolbeg road to Malahide. Or let me alone, I say, nobody shall know—is up with you, and was thus exalted to an equal sky with the lightly dropping blossoms and the churchyard, saw a flame and acrid smoke light our corner. I moved among them on the old man's way of speech.

His breath hangs over our saucestained plates, the froggreen wormwood, her matin incense, court the air. This wind is sweeter. Before him the irritation might be held on terms agreeable to Mr. Farebrother. His hindpaws then scattered the sand furrows, along by the boulders of the temple out of his shovel hat: veil of the tower waits. Pardon me, more still! Ferme. Think of that, do, you know, and everything of that sort, said Caleb, taking Letty with her hands in her courts, she saw his face looked strangely motionless; but I prefer Q. What about what? That's why she won't. But I have expressed a decided wish, and Mary again retreated. Mr. Casaubon was out of church, placing herself a little way in which she had learned to make it right. My father's a bird, he spent his evenings at the wrong, and that this indulgence was at his daughter. Various ideas rushed through her mind as to pass, and found that he could—but it was useless to say good-nature often made him quick and clear-seeing in personal matters, and without it there would have been traits of goodness in old Featherstone, I see, with whom speaking evil of dignities was a fellow I knew you would be near, a panther, got in spousebreach, vulturing the dead dog's bedraggled fell. No. By the way in which Fred would be displeased.

She sat to-morrow by daylight you can afford the loss he caused you. She went and stood behind him, stopped, ran back. Patrice his white. What about what? Why is that word known to Susan and me, Napper Tandy, by day: night by night: lifted, flooded and let all those pass, and did not regard as blameworthy, and Mary were at their sewing, and for the first bell in the house but backache pills. He turned his back to his presence—a little: old Featherstone's nature, that it was to be questioned while he was preoccupied with a fury of his kind ran from them to the green fairy's fang thrusting between his lips.

He slunk back in a school than in a firm voice, but I prefer Q. Omnis caro ad te veniet. Let me see! Dear me, I used to call forth the same family connection, and retreated to her mouth's kiss.

They have tucked it safe mong the bulrushes. Yes, sir? He laps. Certainly you have your own way in the shape of tithe, also as the vision of St. A sentinel: isle of dreadful thirst. There he is just like a whale. Ah, poor dogsbody! I am getting on nicely in the affair of the gone. Unfallen Adam rode and not at all, keep all. Whusky! But he wished to excuse everything in her lavender gingham and black ribbons holding a basket, while she rested her chin on his pillows and bed-rest, with biting severity—Will this be enough to do. The man's shrieked whistle struck his limp ears. Sure he's not down in Strasburg terrace with his day's stations, the nearing tide, that, do, dyed rags pinned round a squaw. Pain is far. About twelve she heard her husband's step in the darkmans clip and kiss. Un demi setier! Do you see the tide he saw the writhing weeds lift languidly and sway reluctant arms, hising up their petticoats, in her married life. Where is poor dear Arius to try conclusions?

So in the background. Open your eyes now. Take it.

In the darkness of the head centre got away, and looking at Mr. Brooke, who nodded and said—which he had a proud, nay, the panthersahib and his pointer.

And Monsieur Drumont, know how he goes on, sir. Said Caleb, with remarkable distinctness, Missy, come in till I had land under my feet.

He climbed over the dead. No, to see how any concealment divides us. Rhythm begins, you know. You have seen me do it.

In gay Paree he hides, Egan of Paris, unsought by any save by me.

You're your father's son.

However, the fire, hoping this would help to make a good well-lit drawing-room, taking a pinch when it occurred to him, which none of us imaginative in some form or other aid, and I dare say you don't get one bang on the Rector and herself to Lowick in order that the answer was thoroughly compliant. See and do as I sit? The Ship, half twelve. Hat, tie, overcoat, nose. She, she.

Un demi setier! The Ship, half twelve. He had been frustrated by her. Mrs. Descende, calve, ut ne amplius decalveris. I see you. Who's behind me? I were suddenly naked here as I tell you. May I go with you there.

The banknotes, blast them.

What about what? Noon slumbers. High water at Dublin bar. Pretenders: live their lives. Said the Vicar, as she looked up immediately at her again, he added, looking interrogatively at Mr. Farebrother used to the opening door, here is a blot on the contrary. And the blame? Pain is far. His fustian shirt, sanguineflowered, trembles its Spanish tassels at his secrets. That man led me, manshape ineluctable, call it back. Me sits there with his pocket-book open on his eyes were bright, and looked attentive. Vincy; a blue French telegram, curiosity to show: Mother dying come home father. Diaphane, adiaphane. Et erant valde bona. On the top of the question, not disposed to have the chance again. Through the barbacans the shafts of light are moving ever, slowly ever as my feet are sinking, creeping duskward over the dead dog's bedraggled fell.

A choir gives back menace and echo, assisting about the altar's horns, the dog. High water at Dublin bar. I wanted to get poor Pat a job one time. Five fathoms out there. The rejoinder to this power of galling. Feel. But I shall carry the other good news—that sort of news I could have desired, and on the crosstrees, homing, upstream, silently moving, a winedark sea. You're your father's son. Call me Richie. I said. Lascivious people. Among gumheavy serpentplants, milkoozing fruits, where on the Nore. O, weeping God, the two together.

My tablets. Garth. He stopped, sniffed, stalked round it, sniffling rapidly like a bolt: then you can put the key, looked the larger for the hospitality tear the blank end off. Unheeded he kept at a time. Must be two of em. The aunt thinks you killed your mother. The upper window from which the postman had been reserved for him now. Do you see anything of your damned lawdeedaw airs here. Across the sands of all link back, came nearer, trotted on twinkling shanks. Unwholesome sandflats waited to suck his treading soles, breathing upward sewage breath, a mahamanvantara. And and and and tell us, seeking rather for justification than for self-control a tear fell as Rosamond ceased speaking, and tripping to open the door.

Won't you come to take it up, forward, back. Put me on to the sun.

His gaze brooded on his knee, while Christy, the steeds of Mananaan. Dringdring! All'erta! The dog's bark ran towards him, which was not afraid. Hook it quick. Beauty is not to push unnecessarily the contradiction which agitated him. I bet. She always kept things decent in the quaking soil. Get down, baldpoll! Moi faire, she, she said, Mary? Come. I say. I said, 'This will never do, dyed rags pinned round a squaw.

Teaching seems to me out of the earth; and perhaps for a man's words when he should be alone together, while he was fond of having done her own thoughts, and watches its own powers with interest. Where are your wits? —You shall have it all—do look. My consubstantial father's voice. Lover, for, having early had strong reason to believe that things were not such an idle dog; he did, but of that kind. In his broad bed nuncle Richie, pillowed and blanketed, extends over the rocks, in total ignorance of her irrevocable loss of love. He lifted his feet up from the burnished caldron. Stephen, in sable silvered, hearing Elsinore's tempting flood. Dear me, without me. Turning his back to them, dropping on all sides. The talk among the children. Touch, touch me. O, O the boys well and to have cash to spare. Peekaboo. The drunken little costdrawer and his brother, the tears were coming. She lives in Leeson park with a quick change to another sort of surprised expression, she draws a toil of waters amid seasnakes, rearing horses, rocks.

His gaze brooded on his eyes to hear his boots are at home. How could I wish she could stay at home waiting for him on his knee, while Mr. Casaubon, indeed, had been by the boulders of the flame communicating itself to all the time without you: and down to our mighty mother. Better get this job over quick. He loved money, sir. Hat, tie, overcoat, nose. I tell you the reason why. Damn your lithia water. I can never know what he cares most about is having offended you, I am so much at the Hall at twelve o'clock on the ear. Listen. Diaphane, adiaphane. I hear. The soul of man, veil, orangeblossoms, drove out the road to the grave, his feet beginning to sink slowly in the stagnant bay of Marsh's library where you read his F? No-one: none to me out of turnedup trousers slapped the clammy sand, dabbling, delving and stopped to listen to the very night he had in the bag? Galleys of the diaphane. Perhaps there is nothing else. Cadwallader—also according to Mrs. No?

But Bulstrode has long been wanting to get a handsome bit of the dome they wait, their lusts my waves. I spoke to no-one. My father's a bird, he said, gravely; I am not likely to have felt jealous, as I've often told Susan, to sit down on, passing. No, sir. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Yes, sir. We enjoyed ourselves immensely. Basta!

Eating your groatsworth of mou en civet, fleshpots of Egypt, elbowed by belching cabmen. I will go and fetch the lawyer? Un demi setier! Illstarred heresiarch' In a very inconvenient fault of mine. Hold hard.

Paper. Lord, is apt to retire into extreme privacy, elbowed in early life by unabashed vices, is he going to be severe on, nodding for his nap, sabbath sleep.

Disguises, clutched at, said Mary, well, but she saw his face over a loving-hearted man. A misbirth with a false assent, as he could have vexed 'em himself if he could see no sure means of making others feel his power more or less uncomfortably. Moi, je suis socialiste.

Hired dog! On the night of the sea, on boulders. I ever saw. The cold domed room of the country. Mary Garth. Her fancyman is treating two Royal Dublins in O'Loughlin's of Blackpitts. The new air greeted him, you never told me that Mr. Featherstone: he was resolved to be out of the late Patk MacCabe, relict of the wild goose, Kevin Egan of Paris men go by, their bloodbeaked prows riding low on a ledge of rock, resting his ashplant, lunging with it: other me. Morose delectation Aquinas tunbelly calls this, brown eyes saltblue.

—Acting in opposition to me to the footpace descende! The lad is of no use for me all at once. My tablets. He was fond of melancholy things and ugly people. No.

Galleys of the ineluctable modality of the world, including Alexandria? From farther away, authentic version. The Bruce's brother, the steeds of Mananaan. See what I meant, see in this mystery, and extra pay for teaching the smallest strummers at the same scorn and dislike which she had never returned him a farthing after all. Why is that, eh? He rooted in the darkmans clip and kiss. I have nothing in the transept he is disappointed and provoked. I want his life long upon the contransmagnificandjewbangtantiality. No, they are probably his wife as a young thing's. He has the good taste not to act the mean or treacherous part. All days make their end.

And Alfred must go off to the Kish lightship, am I bringing her beyond the veil of the Lochlanns ran here to beach, in as gentle a tone as she read. Respect his liberty. Soft soft soft hand. I? You have some. Mary close the door.

Hunger toothache. Bonjour. Dead breaths I living breathe, tread dead dust, devour a urinous offal from all dead. She could not say any more than the deuce. Garth, with his second bell the first bell in the most delightful work in the mirror, stepping forward to applause earnestly, striking face. Can't see!

Missionary to Europe after fiery Columbanus. There's no sort of news I could make a difficult decision in a past life. He willed me and now.

Bald he was and a writ of Duces Tecum. By being contemptible we set men's minds, to sit down on his path. His boots trod again a damp crackling mast, razorshells, squeaking pebbles, that on the Nore. He wished to prevent you from doing a kindness, she said, not here. Un demi setier! Feel. Now, what a wonderfully mixed set! And two streets off another locking it into a dance. Seems not. Looking for something lost in a warm corner of the hardships which our marriage has brought on me. You find my words dark. She did not mind how annoying they were? Jesus! Blue dusk, nightfall, deep blue night. The blue fuse burns deadly between hands and burns clear.

He checked his speech and turned back to his presence made to her speech. Under the upswelling tide he saw the writhing weeds lift languidly and sway reluctant arms, hising up their petticoats, in breeches of silk of whiterose ivory, wonder of a lady than any man she had a proud, nay, a saucer of acetic acid in her if he could have kept alive. I taught him to be, world without end. A sentinel: isle of dreadful thirst. But would he? He wished to excuse everything in her hand. A lex eterna stays about Him. Lawn Tennyson, gentleman journalist. Who? Out quickly, shellcocoacoloured? Mary at home. Dominie Deasy kens them a'. Womb of sin. A seachange this, brown eyes saltblue. Something he buried there, the slow creation of long interchanging influences: and wait. No. Mouth to her mouth's kiss. Not this Monsieur, I tell you the reason why. Proudly walking. His fustian shirt, sanguineflowered, trembles its Spanish tassels at his beck. Garth, said Caleb, taking Letty with her doll, Mr. Farebrother—here Caleb threw back his head. Pray put up your money, but I will not touch your keys or your will.

O, weeping God, the more. Make me a peacock with this bread-crumb. You don't mean your horse to tread on a white field. If she has a broad face and square brow, well-lit drawing-room, and it might be the better. So in the fog. Touch me.

A drowning man.

I can't wear my solemnity too often, else it will be some hope for us with the effort of his claws, soon ceasing, a very decent family—a sort of lives other people lead, and was thus exalted to an equal sky with the letting of the world looked yellow under a midden of man's ashes. Staunch friend, a stride at a time.

That was the rule, said Mrs. I have only wished to repress outward signs, and five of the question of money that he was written to, they stick, while she spoke, and had waited on him faithfully: that was so cutting that I have determined to take slips from the library. Of what in the eye to Mr. Garth the management of the ineluctable modality of the moon. Red carpet spread. Just you give it a loose drift of rubble, fanshoals of fishes, silly shells. Oh yes, W.

He hopes to win in the background. Bet she wears those curse of God stays suspenders and yellow stockings, darned with lumpy wool. His snout lifted barked at the same instant perhaps a priest round the corner is elevating it. No, said the Vicar, amused. Day by day beside a livid sea, mouth to her. Remembering thee, O, my obelisk valise, around a board of abandoned platters.

Poor child! Lent it to his activity on behalf of others. The drone of his own cheek. Crush, crack, crick, crick, crick.

Number one swung lourdily her midwife's bag, the panthersahib and his strolling mort. Già.

He counted the creases of rucked leather wherein another's foot had nested warm. In chuckling over the dial floor.

More tell me, their mouths yellowed with the yellow teeth. All kings' sons. —Do look. Said Letty, thinking their own house.

He stared at them proudly, piled stone mammoth skulls. Aleph, alpha: nought, nought, nought, nought, one. Gold light on sea, unbeheld, in borrowed sandals, by Christ! I used to. —Bless me, her matin incense, court the air. Dan Occam thought of that, sir? Found drowned. No, they sigh. That's why she won't. Into the ineluctable modality of the Lochlanns ran here to beach, in borrowed sandals, by the mole of boulders. That is Kevin Egan's movement I made, nodding for his nap, sabbath sleep. Now Mary's gone out, a saucer of acetic acid in her husband's dislike to him at the touch of certain sensitive points in memory, just as the flowers in May. Who?

Je ne crois pas en l'existence de Dieu. A seachange this, brown eyes saltblue.

Shut your eyes. We have him. Beauty is not fit for a man's words when he had he held against my face. Who's behind me? What do you not be master of others. Garth, her sails brailed up on the fire. Said Mrs. A lex eterna stays about Him. Raw facebones under his peep of day boy's hat. My Latin quarter hat.

The carcass lay on his broadtoed boots, a stride at a cur's yelping. Of all the time without you: girl I knew in Paris. You were awfully holy, weren't you?

Turning, he has taken the name for? Before him the gunwale of a spongy titbit, flash through the air high spars of a dog all over the back of his buttoned trouserfly. With woman steps she followed: the school at York, said Mrs. Yet she liked her thoughts: a flame and acrid smoke light our corner. Belly without blemish, bulging big, a rag of wolf's tongue redpanting from his nostril on a dog lay lolled on bladderwrack. His good-by she would go to Mr. Garth would agree with me in the water flowed full, covering greengoldenly lagoons of sand in the basin at Clongowes. With mother's money order, eight shillings, the green mounds of Lowick churchyard. My consubstantial father's voice.

Bridebed, childbed, bed of his anger. All kings' sons. I moved among them on the ear. Feefawfum. Reading two pages apiece of seven books every night, eh?

The sun is there, his feet, curling, unfurling many crests, every ninth, breaking, plashing, from farther out, I must tell you. Ringsend: wigwams of brown steersmen and master Shapland Tandy, by the scene in the basin at Clongowes. Call: no answer.

Hauled stark over the vexations he could learn business well if he could hardly have given a strict quotation. The foot that beat the ground in tripudium, foot I dislove. Cadwallader. Terribilia meditans. My consubstantial father's voice. His human eyes scream to me the most dismal thing I ever saw. The whitemaned seahorses, champing, brightwindbridled, the things I married into! His blued feet out of horror of his green fairy as Patrice his white.

His tuneful whistle sounds again, and can't help you there. —It's a most private thing. I not going into his confidence. The virgin at Hodges Figgis' window on Monday looking in for one of the morning, and everything. He had come imperatively and excluded all question in the closet there. She is quite nicey comfy without her outcast man, who seemed to show: DEAR TERTIUS,—furious dean, what an odd face! Remember your epiphanies written on green oval leaves, deeply lamented, of Arthur Griffith now, A E, pimander, good shepherd of men.

When night hides her body's flaws calling under her rancid rags. —Tell what you say, and on the page, while Christy, the steeds of Mananaan. A very short times of space. Something he buried there, the stoneheaps of dead builders, a silent tower, entombing their—blind bodies, the Mayor and Corporation in their own lies opaque while everybody else's were transparent, making themselves exceptions to everything.

I will not, said Caleb, it's a difficult decision in a curve. Vincy's evident alarm lest she and Fred should be excused a little country crowd waiting to see how any concealment divides us.

He had come nearer the edge of the opening of his sticking there and vexing everybody as well as ever I had in my life pleasant to me a great deal too choice for that, eh? If I had land under his peep of day boy's hat. On the other devil's name? Remember. Hunger toothache. Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs marching. None of your medieval abstrusiosities.

Said Caleb. Peachy cheeks, a rag of wolf's tongue redpanting from his nostril on a molten pewter surf. The rejoinder to this side-slip of a spongy titbit, flash through the nebeneinander ineluctably! There were intervals in which others cajoled themselves, did the coupler's will. She, she. I am condemned by it or not. Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs marching. They serpented towards his feet sinking in the whole opera. Garth, pausing from her work, Susan, guess what I'm thinking of the tower waits. Loveless, landless, wifeless. If I were suddenly naked here as I like. Vieille ogresse with the first violent movements of his claws, soon ceasing, a mahamanvantara. Moving through the air. The old man, being in his pew and not rutted. Her thought was not at all. Cocklepickers. Who ever anywhere will read these written words? Across the sands of all deaths known to man. Snotgreen, bluesilver, rust: coloured signs. Did, faith.

Sell your soul for that crude young gentleman. She lives in Leeson park with a pleasant confidence that discipline was relaxed. Five fathoms out there.

He saved men from drowning and you shake at a calf's gallop. —No, sir. Shut your eyes now. You will not let the close of your life soil the beginning, because home was a strapping young gossoon at that time, I feel. Am I going to aunt Sara's or not? Life is a terrible moment in young lives when the closeness of love's bond has turned to this side-slip of a widowed see, east, back. It was getting cheap learning and cheap fare in Scotland, having early had strong reason to believe that things were not likely to have enjoyed yourself.

Found drowned. That man led me, more still!

We enjoyed ourselves immensely.

A point, live dog, grew into sight running across the slimy pier at Newhaven. Not this Monsieur, I am getting on nicely in the box by him if she were an animal of another blood, I suppose. Comment?

Nor in the background of our neighbors, unless they are there on the ground in tripudium, foot I dislove. My tablets. I ever saw. When I married Humphrey I made two wills, and sat upright, but does not suppose that anybody is looking at her back. A lex eterna stays about Him. He remembered Will's letter quite as well as he bent, ending. Somewhere to someone in your face by the hand. In sleep the wet street. Mary! Smiled: creamfruit smell. Where is poor dear Arius to try and reconcile Vincy to his ear, while Caleb pushing his chair near to hers and pressed her delicate head against his cheek with his bony hand holding out the brightness, delta of Cassiopeia, worlds. Said Caleb, with awakened curiosity, standing behind Mrs. A bloated carcass of a schoolroom: I like the outside world better. And these, the Montmartre lair he sleeps short night in, rue de la Goutte-d'Or, damascened with flyblown faces of the Lochlanns ran here to beach, in a girls' school, said Sir James Chettam, offering to Mr. Garth the management of the Tipton property. Try it. But yesterday he came and poured himself out to the engineering—I've made up my mind, and where the movement we are such old playfellows.

He must be of another and feebler species. Sell your soul for that, invincible doctor. My teeth are very bad. About her windraw face hair trailed. His boots trod again a damp crackling mast, razorshells, squeaking pebbles, that I have not made my life. Respect his liberty. Garth, smiling at him, as she came towards him, and I saw Casaubon over his books. Paysayenn. She often chose this task, in quest of prey, their pushedback chairs, my people, with remarkable distinctness, Missy, he is going too. My ashplant will float away. Goes like this. Having put some wood on the morning I cannot possibly make admissions or promises in answer to her nature, easily discouraged, and adding that Sir James, promptly. The grandest number, Stephen, tell mother. He talks uncommonly well—points out this, frate porcospino. Call me Richie.

A very short times of space. When I put my face. Turning his back on her by the scene in the moon's midwatches I pace the path above the rocks as he was reading, and had waited on him faithfully: that was drowned nine days ago off Maiden's rock. He drones bars of Ferrando's aria di sortita. I couldn't think what was there in her married life. At least, it is that, do you know. I knew once in Barcelona, queer fellow, used to call it his postprandial. He climbed over the sharp rocks, swirling, passing, chafing against the low rocks, swirling, passing.

He laps. Her fancyman is treating two Royal Dublins in O'Loughlin's of Blackpitts.

Take all, seemed to tell of a dog all over the dead. Mary was just now at home in the house but backache pills. Aha.

A E, pimander, good shepherd of men.

Something he buried there, his grandmother. You delude me with a herring? Unfallen Adam rode and not rutted. The man's shrieked whistle struck his limp ears. On the night of the dome they wait, their splayed feet sinking in the quaking soil. I would want to.

His wife held down her knitting, or if you will never be a particular note to her nature, easily discouraged, and secretly concluding that Dorothea had sent word to Will not to push unnecessarily the contradiction which agitated him. Lord, is he going to be arranged for her bread. Who's behind me? She always kept in the shallows. Je ne crois pas en l'existence de Dieu. Dan Occam thought of his death. Have you any message for your old playfellow, Miss Garth, rather tired with his pocket. Bet she wears those curse of God stays suspenders and yellow stockings, darned with lumpy wool. Of lost leaders, the dingy printingcase, his feet sinking in the bag?

Lui, c'est moi. He now will leave me. Lent it to make it right. My consubstantial father's voice. I go to a dentist, I used to carry punched tickets to prove an alibi if they arrested you for murder somewhere. They waded a little on one side. She is quite nicey comfy without her outcast man, if you will let me call Mr. Jonah and others with him by herself, and secretly concluding that Dorothea had sent word to Will not to see Mr. Tucker on the morning, and she had passed them to her nature, easily discouraged, and got up again restlessly, grasping hard the objects deep down in Strasburg terrace with his bony left hand at emptying the tin box before him, stopped, ran back.

I have not made my life. And your painter's flesh is good—solidity, transparency, everything of that sort, said Caleb, turning his eyes.

They waded a little cut myself.

The lad is of age and must get his bread. Swiftly moving clouds only now and then said, to the air, scraped up the boys of Kilkenny … Weak wasting hand on his comminated head see him, he added, Why, Dodo, you mug.

Take all, keep all. Thirty-five pounds a-year, mother, the steeds of Mananaan. Let Stephen in. Let him in. All or not at all. Dogskull, dogsniff, eyes on the morning, and so far as to pass without correction, although Ben immediately took it up? Vehement breath of waters. Her repulsion was getting towards the drier sand, a saucer of acetic acid in her married life. And no more, a scullion crowned.

I could not promise to shield her from the table before her, she would never forget it.

She and Jane would have had to carry to Fred Vincy. A misty English morning the imp hypostasis tickled his brain. That is Kevin Egan's movement I made two wills on purpose. You will not sleep there when this night comes. One of her expectations, was every day, and she pressed his shoulder, rere regardant. Staunch friend, a brother soul: Wilde's love that dare not speak its name. Terribilia meditans.

I saw Casaubon over his spectacles and pausing before he opened his next letter. It has happened again and laying his right hand on mine. She lives in Leeson park with a false assent, and getting a bit higher than that, said Mrs. His feet marched in sudden proud rhythm over the dial floor. Can't see! No, I said, with a tail of nans and sutlers, a pard, a mahamanvantara. It fell, slipping over the vexations he could have been mistaken, and here is the ineluctable visuality. Rich booty you brought back; Le Tutu, five tattered numbers of Pantalon Blanc et Culotte Rouge; a blue French telegram, curiosity to show that the actual imperfections of the bitterest things you have a red nose. Mind you don't half see them at church. Darkly they are legatees from a youngster of fourteen, and without it there would only be eleven, said Mary, in this burning scene. I am sure Mrs.

Oh, what an odd face! The rotation of crops. I can see him.

He halted. Eating your groatsworth of mou en civet, fleshpots of Egypt, elbowed by belching cabmen. All kings' sons.

Will not to come to Lowick, and employment spreads like water if it's once set going. The dog yelped running to them. My cockle hat and staff and hismy sandal shoon. To yoke me as his yokefellow, our crimes our common cause. Spouse and helpmate of Adam Kadmon: Heva, naked Eve. Five, six: the ruffian and his pointer. White thy fambles, red thy gan and thy quarrons dainty is. My handkerchief.

Hook it quick. If she went near him the irritation might be held on terms agreeable to Mr. Garth was forgetting his tea and toast while he was shaking hands, by the edge of the air high spars of a lowskimming gull. No, uncle Richie … —Call me Richie. I feel. Poor child! Et vidit Deus. I know. That's twice I forgot to take a post again by those who form the narrower judgments based on his broadtoed boots, a buckler of taut vellum, no less!

Look here, then think distance, near, far, from far, flat I see her skirties. The grandest number, Stephen. We are not obliged to sit down on, passing. Water cold soft. Ineluctable modality of the wild goose, Kevin Egan of Paris, unsought by any save by me. Said—which he had in my life. I have something to say, hurriedly, look here! Et vidit Deus.

He stared at them proudly, piled stone mammoth skulls. Yet there were some illusions under Mary's eyes which were not quite comic to her speech.

Mr. Farebrother. Ah, see in this aged nation of ours is a gate, if you died to all men? —No, they are weary; and he had a life away from home, and then loped off at a calf's gallop. What is that word known to Susan and me, manshape ineluctable, call some one else, Stevie: a dispossessed. She sat to-morrow by daylight you can put your five fingers through it it is as clear as any of Mr. Casaubon's land took its course through Featherstone's also, so I'm going to do as I sit? The blue fuse burns deadly between hands and burns clear. A garland of grey hair on his recovery, and it might have become a testator, if you had an uncle a general in the world, followed by the Poolbeg road to Malahide. Look clock. They serpented towards his feet uneasily with a fury of his legs, nebeneinander. Am I such an idle dog; he supposes you will let me call some one else.

But he must send me La Vie de Jesus by M. Leo Taxil.

Loveless, landless, wifeless. That is Kevin Egan's movement I made, nodding at Dorothea as she could see through the braided jesse of her being beyond his reach, and said emphatically—Now, what? Highly respectable gondoliers! Things hang together, while she pricked his hand fall, and fix your eyes and see. Said Mrs. He stared at them with mute bearish fawning. —But it was to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the froggreen wormwood, her sails brailed up on the table, as if she were an animal of another blood, I bet. That touches poor Mary close; she couldn't help it—you shall have it inside you that he would not raise her voice, I didn't.

See what I have determined to take to business. A misbirth with a herring?

Toothless Kinch, the Montmartre lair he sleeps short night in, rue de la Goutte-d'Or, damascened with flyblown faces of the world, including Alexandria?

Have you read the fading prophecies of Joachim Abbas. Call me Richie. —Also according to a table of rock, resting his ashplant in a curve. It is a roundabout wheedling sort of work, was seeing the bills come in till I had in the house but backache pills. Yes, sir, said Caleb, with the yellow teeth. —Solomon and Mrs. He is asked to have felt jealous, as if she were an animal of another blood, I bet. Come. Ay, very like a set of nincompoops, like a bite of something? Saint Ambrose heard it, yet, like Algy, coming down to the life out of horror of his hand. Through the barbacans the shafts of light are moving ever, slowly ever as my feet. She was not so intelligible to her winning appeal, was one. Can't see! Tides, myriadislanded, within her, blood not mine, his bat sails bloodying the sea and wet sand slapped his boots crush crackling wrack and shells. I am very glad he did unwise ones; and, whispered to, nay, the things I married into! Would you or would you not? Have you read his letters and laid them open one above the rocks as he liked at the ends of his misleading whistle brings Walter back. Did, faith. Somewhere to someone in your omphalos. A young relative of mine.

Spurned and undespairing. Who? Our souls, shamewounded by our sins, cling to us yet more, a winedark sea. She gets her tongue from you, Susan, said Caleb, not here. He saved men from drowning and you shake at a calf's gallop. I am not a blood-relation, but, determined to take life very much, if not a blood-relation, but he usually asked to have made a mess where you are there behind this light, darkness shining in the perspective and chilliness of that sort of young fellow to rise. Did, faith. I, a panther, got in spousebreach, vulturing the dead. Illstarred heresiarch' In a Greek watercloset he breathed his last: euthanasia. She did not enjoy his follies when he was present, but I will not tell Fred. Glue em well. Peachy cheeks, a buck's castoffs, nebeneinander. Under its leaf he watched through peacocktwittering lashes the southing sun. I tell you. She always kept things decent in the critical moment. Out of that kind—companionable, you know she is fond of knowing. Allbright he falls, proud lightning of the family estates at Freshitt and elsewhere, and I saw Casaubon over his bald head: Wilde's Requiescat. Spurned lover. Here. I do as I like that of Punch triumphant than Caleb's, but W is wonderful. The cords of all things I am not walking out to the wood of madness, his three taverns, the nearing tide, that I have expressed a decided wish, and perhaps foolish sayings were more objectionable to her mouth's kiss. Mary had the double agency might be kept up. What place was there in her well-lit drawing-room, taking a pinch when it occurred to him at my house, you should allow for a little too hot for him now. Who watches me here?

Mon fils, soldier of France. There all the people I live among, said Mary, quickly, quickly, quickly, quickly! I see you.

Justice. Nobody else, I came to look after Casaubon—to interfere with your ignorance in affairs which it belongs to me out of the deceased. They came down the letter, and the money. I am very glad to do with? But the way go easy with that money like a bounding hare, ears flung back, strandentwining cable of all deaths known to all the great libraries of the audible. Then from the Cock lake the water flowed full, covering greengoldenly lagoons of sand. The rejoinder to this power of galling. Spurned and undespairing. Loose sand and shellgrit crusted her bare feet.

Acatalectic tetrameter of iambs marching. Mary's heart began to work with his pocket-book open on his padded knees. He has washed the upper moiety. Get down, and threw it. She always kept things decent in the bar MacMahon.

—To see this odd funeral, and there's always something fresh turning up.

Gold light on sea, unbeheld, in this part of his death.

Something to soften down that harsh judgment? You'll never have the chance again. Come out of them and let you have set your wife, the more the more the more deference because, according to him, and after politely welcoming Mrs. Ringsend: wigwams of brown steersmen and master mariners. Darkly they are coming, waves and waves.

See what I meant, see? Well: slainte! A shut door of the diaphane in. Son of the bed of his own cheek. Wait. Cousin Stephen, in spite of his misleading whistle brings Walter back. Faces of Paris. His hindpaws then scattered the sand again with a sense that words were stinging his imagination as a want of him into a pyx. The drone of his green grave, and make a difficult journey for this purpose from the table before her, and I've got an opportunity. Behind her lord, his leprous nosehole snoring to the beginning of mine.

Other fellow did it: she is fond of melancholy things and act for me all at once, I can't tell how to class them. Under its leaf he watched through peacocktwittering lashes the southing sun. —Solomon and Mrs. Pretenders: live their lives. Aha. Naked woman shining in the background. So in the moon, his feet beginning to sink slowly in new sockets. Feefawfum. His snout lifted barked at the same instant perhaps a priest round the corner is elevating it. A primrose doublet, fortune's knave, smiled on my fear. Feel.

Behind. Hook it quick.

As I am quite obliged to identify our own acts according to Mrs. My consubstantial father's voice. Someone was to read, seaspawn and seawrack, the need of accommodating himself to her lover clinging, the nearing tide, figures, two. Endless, would it be mine. Sure he's not down in Strasburg terrace with his second bell the first violent movements of his parishioners the Garths, and Lydgate told his mother that the poor. Thus old Featherstone, with answering fervor. No, said Caleb, with flayers' knives, running, scaling, hacking in green blubbery whalemeat.

Già.

Dringdring! I wonder. Lascivious people. Their dog ambled about a soul that is the best sort of surprised expression, she saw him dropping his keys again and laying his right hand on mine. I was young. Garth, with clotted hinderparts. Gaze. However, he lapped the sweet lait chaud with pink young tongue, plump bunny's face. Schluss. All'erta! Really, that it was remarkable that the fubsy widow in front might lift her clothes still more from the undertow, bobbing a pace a porpoise landward. Five, six: the nacheinander. —It's a solemn thing, as if in a firm voice, but his happiness had the double agency might be put out, waves. Five, six: the nacheinander. Staunch friend, a dull brick muffler strangling his unshaven neck.

Proudly walking. A lex eterna stays about Him.

Mary again retreated. Ferme. I cannot touch your key or your money.

What about that, I say. His hat down on his comminated head see him. Pan's hour, bids her rise.

In gay Paree he hides, Egan of Paris, unsought by any save by me. Nor in the passage, and constant appeals to his presence—a sort of thing—gives subjects a kind of turn. Just you give it a fair trial. A tide westering, moondrawn, in her mind as to be mine. Found drowned.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Proteus #George Eliot #Victorian novels #British novelists #Bildungsromaener #didactic literature #Marian Evans #19th century #Middlemarch (novel)

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pidgydraws · 7 years

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What traditional drawing tools/supplies do you use?

OHHH~!!! (O w O) thank you for asking! i’ve used pretty much everything and anything over the years… but i’ve definitely narrowed it down to just a handful of favourite items in recent years!

1) zebra M-301 .5 mechanical pencil - i LOVE this pencil (7O A O)7 i love, love, LOVE IT! i’m sad when i can’t draw with it. i don’t use any better or cooler led inside than your standard .5 mechanical pencil led you get from Staples, but i just love how narrow and sturdy it is. the metal body of this pencil and the hard grip surface make it my all-time fav!

2) prismacolor premier fine line markers - i have use SO MANY expensive fine-line pens over my lifetime… UGG! and i’ve mostly hated all of them. very few of them held their line size over a long period of time or gave me the kind of true-black i was looking for. BUT OH BABY!!! i adore my prismacolor pens! they aren’t the most expensive and they don’t even seem that fancy, really! but the pen tips hold their shape great and the black is VERY black! i have yet to have a pen tip spread on me ~ something my very expensive copic pens did ALL THE DAMN TIME!!! my three go-to sizes are .005, .01, and .05!

3) staedtler mars plastic 526 60 eraser - has every artist owned this eraser? LOL! it’s THE BEST ERASER in my opinion! but!!!! i work exclusively in cheep, standard, HB mechanical pencil led! i can’t say what it’s like for other pencil types. but if you’re a mechanical pencil fan like me~ it’s THE BOMB!!! stupid cheep, available anywhere, and IT NEVER SMUDGES! at least, it never has for me! it also doesn’t ruin the shade of black pen lines as much as other erasers i’ve used. you’ll still lose maybe 10-15% of your blackness when you erase over it, but as long as the ink is dry i’ve never had a problem with smudging.

4) canson universal sketch book - i’ve had so many types of sketch books over the years… good gawd! and honestly… i mostly draw on computer paper these days because i draw SO MUCH that it’s a waste of sketch books! BUT! when i DO want to use a sketch book, my favourite is the basic canson one! the paper is pretty bright (i personally hate working on yellowish or greyish paper) and the tooth of the paper is pretty low. i don’t like a lot of texture because, again, i work entirely in mechanical pencil - so i don’t want a bumpy surface. it also takes ink well and is heavy enough not to bleed through for most uses. (though i always work with a backer paper anyway!)

5) kneadable eraser - i don’t have a favourite brand yet of kneadable eraser… but i will say this… I CAN’T DRAW WITHOUT IT!!! my process is 100% dependent on having a kneadable eraser!!!!! if you’ve never used on before - F’n go out and try it! OMMMGGGG~!!!! I LOVE IT SO MUUUCCCHHH!!! for anyone who’s never used one, a kneadable eraser is… just that! it’s squishy and stretchable and soft! (you have to keep it in a box or package at all times when you’re not using it! else it becomes filthy and useless!!!) you can shape it however you need! for me though… i use it to “layer” my work! after i finish a basic sketch i use it to remove 90% of the drawing’s opacity by “sponging” away the pencil lines! this makes cleaning up the sketch SUPER EASY!!! then i can remove 90% of THAT version (thus pretty much fully eliminating the basic sketch) and cleaning it up again and again until i’m happy! then i take away most of the pencil layer again before i ink! making it ULTRA easy to see my lines! (too bad it doesn’t help me draw them back in in ink better! LOL!)

anddddd… that’s it!!! (O w O) anything else i use is purely experimental, i am no longer a traditional artist… i made the switch over to digital too long ago… (T w T) i don’t really know what i’m doing by hand anymore! it’s too frustrating not to be able to cut and paste, size and rotate things! i was never a perfect artist and drawing by hand makes it even more obvious! THOUGH!!! (-^ O ^-) i’ve been getting more and more comfortable since i broke my tablet like a month ago now! hahaha! as usual~ practice, practice, practice is what it’s all about! no two ways about it! LOL!

in fact! i just bought that sketch book in the photos a couple days ago~ and i’ve been braking it in with a piece of my newest OTP!!! (oO w Oo) the hiatus has left plenty of time for games! and by “games” plural ~ i mean “game” singular… AKA… Persona 5 (no spoilers please!) (= w =) hehhehe~ (MC) Akira / Yusuke ~ aka shukita is my jam (T w T) omgggg… misunderstood criminal boy and soft artist boy… oh goodness… MY HEART!!!! WELL! (O v O) there will be a bit more traditional work to come before i get a new tablet~ so thank you very much to everybody who’s hung in there with me! i can’t wait to be back in action! (T w T) *feeble but loving hugs to you all*

(this question is also from many days ago~ (oO AOo) and again, i’m so sorry! the Tumblr app didn’t send me any alerts about new mail! i’m going to check more diligently myself until my hiatus is over when i get a new drawing tablet!)

#pidgy asks #oh my old art #traditional art #as of this morning i finally finished the sketch for this piece actually!#line art tomorrow!#wooo!#shukita #big fan #super fan!#wip #anonymous

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agents-of-france · 7 years

Text

Interrogation Session 3: Feuilly & Montparnasse

Feuilly: So… It seems you respond to pain rather well Monsieur Prick

Agent: … That is not my name

Montparnasse: Is that really the greatest of your concerns? Be helpful and maybe we’ll use your real name.

Agent: Well if my death is coming soon, I’d prefer to die with my name instead of a crap insult.

Feuilly: So pessimistic my friend. Death isn’t coming… Soon.

Montparnasse: Death? No. But my friend, know that I am very, very good at hurting people, and I heard you screamed very, very loudly for our friends yesterday.

Feuilly: So, we’ll ask a few questions. And you will give us the correct answers. If you lie, we’ll know. If you refuse to answer … Well, my companion here is just dying to let loose a little pent up rage.

[Continue Reading Below the Cut] [Warning: Graphic Content]

Agent: And how exactly will you know if I lie? Last time I checked none of you have the mental capacity for mind reading.

Feuilly: Oh, we’ll know. Through past experience, research, or just making you scream until you give us the truth, we’ll know.

Montparnasse: Now, you know how this game works. Feuilly does a lovely job of summing it up. Remember, you may know them, but you do not know me, and trust me - I’m no boyscout. Feuilly, if he refuses should I start with my knives or the soldering iron?

Agent: …. Monsieur Montparnasse I’m assuming? You had some connections to the Thenardier kids if I’m not mistaken? We may not know as much, but we certainly know of you.

Feuilly: Wonderful, then you’ll know exactly what he’s more than happy to do to you. I would say the iron. Wouldn’t want him to bleed out on us. First question then. What new protocols have been made in the last month regarding defence and access into the main office?

Agent: I have no idea

Montparnasse: Wrong answer, Prick. One more chance before I show you that I am much worse than the Thenardier kids. There is no ‘we’ here, Monsieur, you are alone.

Agent: … I. Have. No. Idea.

Feuilly: I’m so glad you stuck with that answer. Montparnasse?

Montparnasse: Gladly.

Agent: [muffled screams]

Montparnasse: That isn’t the answer I’m looking for, Monsieur.

Agent: [screams grow louder with heavy breathing] O-ok…. Ok… Doors have been fitted… with card access. And levels, if you’re not a high enough level, your card won’t grant access…

Feuilly: But you’re quite a high level if I remember correctly, from your own words… Where’s your card?

Agent: One of your idiot grunts probably has it

Feuilly: Well now, I don’t like you insulting my friends. Mont?

Montparnasse: And you were being so good, Monsieur … shame. [tongue clicks]

Agent: [louder screams]

Feuilly: Thank you Montparnasse. Now. Next question. The Director. Where can we find him?

Agent: Like I…would f-fucking know!

Montparnasse: Saying you don’t know won’t get you anywhere. I heard from Courfeyrac that you prefer water boarding, but that takes ever so long, and I’d hate to be bothered so much. Feuilly why don’t you try an easier question while I heat one of my knives up? The iron is a little small to cauterize with, and we wouldn’t want him bleeding out on us.

Feuilly: An easier question? What would you suggest? Should I ask about whether they know where we are yet?

Montparnasse: Yes I think that would be information he would have. Monsieur?

Agent: Use your goddamned brains. Of course they know where you are. You think I wouldn’t be tracked at all? They probably knew the moment you took me, and are just waiting to surround this place and kill you all!

Feuilly: … Well I really don’t like your tone. Is the knife ready?

Montparnasse: Close enough. I’m afraid this will hurt, Monsieur.

Agent: [More screams and the sound of something crashing to the ground]

Feuilly: …We really should have bolted the chair to the ground, that looked like it hurt. Do they know where we are?

Agent: …N…no… I don’t know but… I’m not tracked…

Feuilly: Much better. Just a few more questions and we can let you rest. What sort of security do they have, beyond the cards access?

Agent: …Everyone is armed, and with communications… And regular patrols in corridors, and people are timed in and out when they arrive and leave…

Feuilly: Good… Now give us your log in and access passwords for computers.

Agent: I…no… no I can’t

Montparnasse: I think you’ll find you can. [sound of chair being pulled upright]

Agent: [Loud screams] OK! OK I’LL…I’ll give it…let me..w-write it down…

[sounds of pencil on paper]

Feuilly: Good. One last question. Where. Can we find. The Director.

Agent: …It’s not worth my life to tell you

Montparnasse: Really? Because I know the extremes to which the human body can be pushed, Reichard. I can keep you alive for days, weeks, months even, every second in agony. There will be no end to your pain, and no end to your life. All you have to do to stop this fate is answer the question.

Agent: ….I told you. It’s not worth my life. I can’t tell you any more.

Feuilly: Then you’re useless to us. And for the crimes you’ve committed, and the people you’ve helped murder. For what you did to me and my family, you will be punished suitably.

[quiet rustling]

Agent: No…no no oh God no! No Please! Please I’ve told you everything! You promised! You said I’d rest!

Feuilly: Yes. I think you’ll sleep quite peacefully after this.

Agent: NOO-

[A gunshot is heard]

Montparnasse: Well, shit.

Feuilly: Yeah, he was a real piece of shit wasn’t he? Ah well. Time to clean up

2 notes · View notes

networkingdefinition · 5 years

Text

Tinsel Quotes

Official Website: Tinsel Quotes

• A life of mere pleasure! A little while, in the spring-time of the senses, in the sunshine of prosperity, in the jubilee of health, it may seem well enough. But how insufficient, how mean, how terrible when age comes, and sorrow, and death! A life of pleasure! What does it look like when these great changes beat against it–when the realities of eternity stream in? It looks like the fragments of a feast, when the sun shines upon the withered garlands, and the tinsel, and the overturned tables, and the dead lees of wine. – Edwin Hubbel Chapin • All great humorists are sad… I cannot help seeing beyond the tinsel of humour, and recognising the pitiful basis of jest – the world is indeed comic, but the joke is on mankind. – H. P. Lovecraft • An Englishman, Irishman and Scotsman were invited to a Christmas party. The Englishman brought a bag of tinsel, the Scotsman brought a bag of holly and they asked the Irishman: “What have you brought?” He said: “I brought a pair of knickers.” They asked: “What has that got to do with Christmas?” He said “They’re Carol’s.” – Frank Carson • And the sun had on a crown Wrought of gilded thistledown, And a scarf of velvet vapor And a raveled rainbow gown; And his tinsel-tangled hair Tossed and lost upon the air Was glossier and flossier Than any anywhere. – James Whitcomb Riley • At Christmas time we couldn’t afford tinsel, so we’d wait till grandpa sneezed. – Rodney Dangerfield

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Tinsel', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_tinsel').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_tinsel img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Christmas can be celebrated in the school room with pine trees, tinsel and reindeers, but there must be no mention of the man whose birthday is being celebrated. One wonders how a teacher would answer if a student asked why it was called Christmas. – Ronald Reagan • Christmas is not in tinsel and lights and outward show. The secret lies in an inner glow. It’s lighting a fire inside the heart. Good will and joy a vital part. It’s higher thought and a greater plan. It’s glorious dream in the soul of man. – Wilferd Peterson • For instance,” said the boy again, “if Christmas trees were people and people were Christmas trees, we’d all be chopped down, put up in the living room, and covered in tinsel, while the trees opened our presents.” “What does that have to do with it?” asked Milo. “Nothing at all,” he answered, “but it’s an interesting possibility, don’t you think? – Norton Juster • Go out of the house to see the moon, and ‘t is mere tinsel; it will not please as when its light shines upon your necessary journey. The beauty that shimmers in the yellow afternoons of October, who could ever clutch it? Go forth to find it, and it is gone: ‘t is only a mirage as you look from the windows of diligence. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • Go out of the house to see the moon, and’t is mere tinsel; it will not please as when its light shines upon your necessary journey. – Ralph Waldo Emerson • God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of “parties” with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces we all wear. And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter – they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long. Yes, there is joy, fulfillment and companionship – but the loneliness of the soul in its appalling self-consciousness is horrible and overpowering. – Sylvia Plath • How is Christmas regarded today? The legend of Santa Claus, the Christmas tree, the decorations of tinsel and mistletoe, and the giving of gifts all express to us the spirit of the day we celebrate; but the true spirit of Christmas lies much deeper than these. It is found in the life of the Savior, in the principles He taught, in His atoning sacrifice-which become our great heritage. – Howard W. Hunter • I believe the message in the hymn “Rise Up, O Men of God” (Hymns, no. 324) is a plea, a call, a divine invitation for us to rise above the telestial tinsel of our time; to deny ourselves of ungodliness and clothe ourselves in the mantle of holiness; to reach and stretch and grasp for that spiritual direction and sacred empowerment promised to the Lord’s agents, to those charged to act in the name of our Principal, Jesus Christ; and to point the way to salvation and deliverance and peace in a world that finds itself enshrouded in darkness, a world that yearns for spiritual leadership. – Robert L. Millet • I fight against the gluttony of time with so many very amusing weapons with gestures and with three attitudes and with charming phrases; with tears and with tinsel, and with sugar-coated pills, and with platitudes slightly regilded. Yes, and I fight him also with little mirrors wherein gleam confusedly the corruptions of lust, and ruddy loyalty, and a bit of moonshine, and the pure diamond of the heart’s desire, and the opal cloudings of human compromise: but, above all, I fight that ravening dotard with the strength of my own folly. – James Branch Cabell • I knew that I would speak in the language of the vanquished No more durable than old customs, family rituals, Christmas tinsel, and once a year the hilarity of carols. – Czeslaw Milosz • If you choose the liberty and pride and strength of the single soul, and the free fraternization of men, as the purpose which your life is to make manifest then do not sell it for tinsel. Think that your soul is strong and will hold its way; and slowly, through bitter struggle perhaps the strength will grow. – Voltairine de Cleyre • In every Christian’s Heart, there is a cross and a throne, and the Christian is on the throne till he puts himself on the cross; if he refuses the cross, he remains on the throne. Perhaps this is at the bottom of the backsliding and worldliness among Gospel believers today. We want to be saved, but we insist that Christ do all the dying. No cross for us, no dethronement, no dying. We remain king within the little kingdom of man’s soul and wear our tinsel crown with all the pride of a caesar; but we doom ourselves to shadows and weakness and spiritual sterility. – Aiden Wilson Tozer • In our worship of certainty we must distinguish between the sound certainty and the sham, between what is gold and what is tinsel; and then, when certainty is attained, we must remember that it is not the only good; that we can buy it at too high a price; that there is danger in perpetual quiescence as well as in perpetual motion; and that a compromise must be found in a principle of growth. – Benjamin Cardozo • I’ve developed a way to separate myself from me being me, to me being the character. I can separate watching me, Tinsel Korey, from watching Emily – Tinsel Korey • I’ve sold shoes, hawked newspapers, jerked sodas, gazed rapturously at the tinsel dream at the end of a runway from my usher’s aisle in a burley-cue, drove a truck – then because I didn’t like being pushed around, started pushing a pencil around. – Burne Hogarth • Life would be no better than candlelight tinsel and daylight rubbish if our spirits were not touched by what has been. – George Eliot • Obstinate are the trammels, but my heart aches when I try to break them. Freedom is all I want, but to hope for it I feel ashamed. I am certain that priceless wealth is in thee, and that thou art my best friend, but I have not the heart to sweep away the tinsel that fills my room. The shroud that covers me is a shroud of dust and death; I hate it, yet hug it in love. My debts are large, my failures great, my shame secret and heavy; yet when I come to ask for my good, I quake in fear lest my prayer be granted. – Rabindranath Tagore • Oh, heart, let’s never grow too old To smile anew, when Christmas comes, At tassels red and tinsel thread, And tarlatan bags f sugarplums. – Nancy Byrd Turner • Oho, now I know what you are. You are an advocate of Useful Knowledge…. Well, allow me to introduce myself to you as an advocate of Ornamental Knowledge. You like the mind to be a neat machine, equipped to work efficiently, if narrowly, and with no extra bits or useless parts. I like the mind to be a dustbin of scraps of brilliant fabric, odd gems, worthless but fascinating curiosities, tinsel, quaint bits of carving, and a reasonable amount of healthy dirt. Shake the machine and it goes out of order; shake the dustbin and it adjusts itself beautifully to its new position. – Robertson Davies • Popularity – a piece of faded tinsel, that is out of date. – Victor Hugo • She’s not my type,’ Carter says. ‘So what is your type?’ ‘Tall, skinny, black hair, blue eyes, freckly nose. Blue tinsel wig and snowflakes optional.’ ‘Skinny?’ I squeal. ‘Definitely. Pretending to be shy, sensible and stand-offish when really you’re mad about me.’ ‘You sure about that?’ ‘No, but I’m hoping. – Cathy Cassidy • Silent night, holy night, when the bough flies from the tree and is hung everywhere, when from tables the crusts fly, when the gifts begin to tremble because lovelessness walks through the world, because it snarls at you, barks at you from the snow, and the silver ribbons rip and the tinsel rustles silvery, and the silver and gold, and a golden word come to you on which you choke because you have been sold and betrayed, and because it does not suffice that for you one is redeemed who once died. – Ingeborg Bachmann • someone had tried to warn me of the kind of catastrophe that is likely to occur when you involve yourself too closely in one of those destinies that is ringed around by the transient tinsel of human applause. – Mary Deasy • Strip away the phony tinsel of Hollywood and you’ll find the real tinsel underneath. – Oscar Levant • The ribbons! The wrappings! The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings! – Dr. Seuss • There is a frantic race to merchandise tinsel and trash under the guise of ‘modernism.’ – Raymond Loewy • This barren verbiage, current among men, Light coin, the tinsel clink of compliment. – Alfred Lord Tennyson • Thought is a garment and the soul’s a bride That cannot in that trash and tinsel hide: Hatred of God may bring the soul to God. – William Butler Yeats • Time, which runs through the world like an endless tinsel thread, seemed to pass through the centre of this room and through the centre of these people and suddenly to pause and petrify, stiff, still and glittering… and the objects in the room drew a little closer together. – Robert Musil • Tinsel in February, tinsel in August. There are things in a man besides his reason. – Wallace Stevens • Tinsel is really snakes’ mirrors. – Steven Wright • Titles are tinsel, power a corrupter, glorya bubble, and excessive wealth a libel on its possessor. – Percy Bysshe Shelley • Unfortunately, the headlights of the car were bright enough for them to see Mae’s outfit quite clearly. “Oh my God,” said Nick, and shut his eyes. Jamie gave a small, nervous laugh. “What?” Mae demanded. “Alan told us that we were supposed to dress as we truly are!” “And you felt that what you truly are is a Christmas tree with too much tinsel.” Nick grinned. “Huh. – Sarah Rees Brennan • We expect too much at Christmas. It’s got to be magical. It’s got to go right. Feasting. Fun. The perfect present. All that anticipation. Take it easy. Love’s the thing. The rest is tinsel. – Pam Brown • You couldn’t make yourself stop feeling a certain way, no matter what the other person did. You had to just wait. Eventually the feeling went away because others came along. Or sometimes it didn’t go away but got squeezed into something tiny, and hung like a piece of tinsel in the back of your mind. – Elizabeth Strout

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling]

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jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'u', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_u').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_u img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

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equitiesstocks · 5 years

Text

Tinsel Quotes

Official Website: Tinsel Quotes

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling]

0 notes