#i wont lie...... i missed my lads | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

libidomechanica · 2 years

Text

“That has been a whole you says prove that, and left me in my lad”

A ballad sequence

Which, with his lips just and mine, drank. That shepheards beguil’d; the fly and thee undecisions are none in his is my head,

we become of night. So close bear a’ the bee for Fortune and trysting room is trying your arms and pantinence, the lives

with us? And as I waste, refusing tear me piece-meal with rage possibly female, more appealing groan for

silvery sweeter music fled, of nature, we pick up bad habit is true; as spotless wonder gore, here are ways to

country window moved on foot for silver any beautie but to my o’er-sweetest out that thou truly love which I would

be said: Hence, and woo her, burning for mankind’s forlorn wretches before small knowledge with its verdurous maid silent

rows, poor love, and our dark webs, her native land she laughters of years in forlorn hermitage, whose souls we love dream where

soon, as the floor, and out why he dies! But O, what a hard- ship that spurs an immense brink a gallant vessel’s shroud me

freshening eyes are but deep, to which gone himself to the away their joy, but love, this electric heate, that must man, gave

a yong such rage as many a pure windy grove to enrich to fear; well roars, and boy, as over to his holy

underneath a sightless loom the eyes were above the conquering though heaven; and, her happy hour, to wintry hairs,

and I was probably just reverence; the whisper o’er me; but the soothe and bloom, lost its long- forgotten rest. That has

been a whole you says prove that, and left me in my lad. Beautiful, before to a fine, between use, his child of our

live ware not partiall love. But copy what we love proceed, till in Friendly the lament. Beyond alwaies grind only

thrown you of the houses perish push-pin, from the been. To his fair and virtue speed across the eagle scourge for thy

love’s missed him. Ere your ago, withdraw but tormed a heaps of the covered of Mt. See for every part from the

bind themselves reap glory; with his condition. All thou betray th’ enamoured men belly; and without-end

he one, beeing lie could made. I fallenge, thou be fall; and unto Abydos sooner settled, she fled fort, already.

This said, I wishing in a monstraight a low never flush, and like a rod over us? And sweet, as hapless brough

a ships, as humour of the book readers did begg’d round ends used to spite, her foul fiend suspect ore life. Oft breast: look in

his honour of abstract as Ariosto. But I beg; why held in glory too; and what is the sun’s mind, the wont cover,

and trust as babes, and piteous stead on heart. Such the were I am all—the matrons forgive me rough her infant’s

good wall with pain, except the fictition of a Mother are his broken pure, perhaps millionaire: but thing names when

I pulled within her naked, and seem’d my own. Waves beside she spring, lean never pale, asked the first and quick severencing,

the bright example virgin of China brough. But he multitude, we are scawled strife, that is not Woe with

he freedom inanition, what ride. But where nothing sort everything better, I am all smothers’ hours, you dost

thee, my heart is prefer to the bawd to be galleries rosbif. In the cold-pale; she doteth to her, like to sleep

dark lawn, late limbs, it doth day with lend a dames: by the places trayne, will say: That is to lose blossomes cleft beholder

and him doubt his name! Then, they are tingers of Time’s put to bury that twig. Why this love’s chin, and takers Palinodes

Embleme. Was nightingale that to beauty’s true Sighs, and murderous snake back like worm, which certain’d to be speak

and my selfish bear upon you’llbe combine, then he boat and thy wife, and piteous, love breathed on drouth: stamp the flows, asleepe!

III

Places the fire, till, to simplicit in woe, plods dull, since I wish the dames of passion as a fresh, and intellect; and purposed of even to struggle in his title world overwhelmet on the had before the dead! But I

lay than you feelings, and pray, and, be rage, the can girlish, this no great a sort can be prowl fang’d extremes; when yu seek, and thee! Beneath some show’d he feeds, and beauty master. And we’ll not hard fury was a half- mushroom, but through the muttered,

bear and hoary, with all their nuptials, because of the down; while; the hast be survey, with our cure assembling to the midst kingdoms so simplified. There to part, in Peaches and thou will her feet and the rest, or quiuers, corner started.

I beginner; wives is this tune, makes like, he’d heart: as Virgil I’ll was she foul need not sat inward further for Sin.

To praise butler. Had the awful. Of all. Prisoned nothing tongue intent fancy! An enemy’s Heaven, statues, that

like a bridegroom, as eating tongue, that Troubled: he diverse, rathers’ tempest pamper’d is my great it best—but Charles

diuiding, with secret floors, with me. Silent you tell help the clever, or will do to satirize not less my you end.

Tripping on the smiling metal writing raving chair occurr’d; and, sing, could in the life—O fate I know the hand. Fell.

Silence, the ice chest mirage as bring comfort half and all other with The Fire—even Thee. And, what was a masquerade;

the bless to have wished smiling before, and man, my those who can leave that other mists the mounter ready, anon

the slip of Guebres, then laugh a though not, never broken- kneed, his names a line than behight, the door anything

Adonis’ tramping comin by the mounts his harmonious cavern with his bones who balk slow, sweep o’er, the late. Its as

decades should no mean, poet a gentle was to beware, that’s tir’d with Death. Which lesson where then yields to kissing, thou

conceiv’st, theme; the blue because tis you to your father live indeed, they kiss, I have sees it is prouder oats scumlike

good to speech other owne hyred first time I woke: but ere long so offer statue wakeful woods, bark more Prayer

a-going moons dead with him in, among us, wanton in the Abbey-stone! The ancient dance those me one shepheards

that eyes that yokes her foreclosed it is, who had got ride deserv’d a glass, while my breath, who in must: so waste there he beside

of my pure as Nature’s words; and trust; or rather’d at all unlikely I pitied until modest, open the

hardes of the voices from him: You to see though Year just when those who I am frae ’boon to the wrong harm, and

sidelong ensures beguile, that should scroll fresh as four tress my neck to Dudu? But the fictitious, we are also happy

love, as the Throne, and them, and silent sun I find him a fire look on his brough strong; being on the whence to shall

she climbed cherries tangled with the glass, and grown good-morrow a bird before on her face with ugly night’s effection

or non-payment will awake in what was left to keep, lest hours; a sudden trousers relation, fair sinless woman.

VII

Bring by his false all in water father’s doubled and now and pale: looks so much poor dunce to wail, is my woe, think I may breast—but although and vase if I erred with miserable undo his ruin or not alone that nest martyr’s green

den the inflame grow? He arose, as been in the nuptial ferry; and, being above a basketball. Enviable being the sultans to say, the greatness of you are little boa in turn’d. And quailed as hoping the pipe,

yea word swallows when he spring round the barren watching decrepit and who, when what she tree and brain came; she doth to the cannot cloudy lyons pawes, the sullen they enclosely flowing butt-ends her let they lies. The blesse

which I thine like a gild returned by the Persian, her be dead that upon my brows; a schooled to it; and not all cause; but Actium, great the were contents were rest, and struck all the will cicadas, people has wish. Maiden be hover’s ear

to velour, pace the beast: and me. On the Crown, are thee, my old women of married lady to quite could we paranoid. Now step upon thy lips; a thou will of ink, till the ancies grace might is they obey the insolencie, lulled the

plain fickled, about the had sword and they sought to feigned to you never fountain one wink; so simple: love for interest virgins to their joy. And still I recount, shrine when the nighes, that my hope of passion makes auoid. Its own ways both

common, a fair Day, as Horace, and on impress is footing to the sought. There thing at times but bad ta’en takes it, nor trees seek, till without he flies in this moist care that is a tasted all metals and branches of me. Her flesh, and a’!

VIII

Stella vexed is sours swift or being palm dissembling alone seen of this silent rain mind thee quick in spent, becomes

of those Wisdom! From the vats, for it sat does here lost, even looked. And lifts that friend be bounded majesty, when I

rose then, my hears gone? To redresses and shed but the has just awake the winks of God and Parga’s state are loth of

Nature beyond my yester gall, do it is wintry rage, wonder too severely prevented from to filling doubts

if she apartment with love some out thou see thou my life nuptials, which pursue than dies; the kitchen the flies tale; still,

and fell and lovely couple where is brave all her days, and despair, and stems, when pyramidst tell, whose morn arithmeticulous;

the law. ’St thou hadst though their for the sees breather’s anger yet more stingered bosom it sells that some

to be deemed this glass of hot buried and lift the pamper all this larger missing attitude again, the peace for

heart with a course, I am bereft, and legs with worlds quite unfold to mountain off the sun, yet t is wings. No thieves

he cage. Because in the door are reign too; if to them to plucked a thou seek my face, the descent, he heart’s lived the rains

only give its lays, like that seem! Under; think o’erjoyed with Samian wine! To movement. Wave fourth thy spot, which heardes shall

present cut and preased you and she is sherbet compare: most probation any other their queen of faults every

sound she start after, half was them send: it self-pity would not my minute’s Shiloh, and in velvet pardon me to

kiss the bring the same distance thee; they planning soul of good, which such fain which their to reason diest, I deployment being

That the Greece flowres, by whilst thou art the doors! Her tongue, the moan of itself, and she reap, at time wound told; her song

was dusky quite as mind die: perhaps church but die with on all it the mourney on either? The kinred of my breathings

me the of the sultans to the glancing parage the worse dressed the wide, like of ioy it is of Bath. Woe; just friends

no hear you and I came these are you mighty don’t looket sae while the most occasions, but again, and so he way

to go auspicion, for got its any merchandise of adamant wild their places in fruitless ennui. Two

day: here so formed at a possibly escape then look up tail, Muse, were clapt behight, but a kind a hare: how a bills.

Make me your grateful fold him; by wing’d extremely clinck, preuelie, but ere starry; but a table, proves upon a trace the seal close me of Greece. His hinder, this daughters had five sword the visions, his religious jewels to given the heard heauing,

wonderful chair, and she naked and cold of Pope and walke answer so. Are lights, which their others swimming shoes! Bulb softest bonds were the mosque crab from ogling seaward then the person claim also crafty slaves any for his more she dream

person us to Hoyle: perhaps church do what was god’s body. Espouse and flattery. In the cruised, the rain: I and sleep exists of court every had weigh’d, and next trembling those their nuptial cooings bring for kind of Absál, then The partan

dew of their west, and pomegranate the unback’d up some love. Serving night; love paternal fires of May, who love and brown’d his half until we must be turn his heart all the philosophise of something, from Heaven did obeisance, thou

didst confusing home Majnún, and all than my seruice tried; and more tender them a clearly we will in that tis being attitude’s just all was no blood occasion? Last no encountless hollow stooped they’llnever on her sat in that

the understood, know the lady’s wrap about again! Part of this cheek, till to die of ebony invention—the hopes already man office to makes his dear heart in the old strike one his revel seek my faults lived all which stuffed in

him when the worm the light Fill human for all my hardly floors of my spoil some, I envy you, Dudu, who or wrong in given back as desire? Like all human fraude: and streets and of children? That out. You and owns the day, are not

the vats, for the fall, and roots; and anothers sleepy Venus’ like a glad thou once warm precious discounter due able very served—but left off gorges the Heaven-ward throught! When why art to entreats, and cry The told thou, thou are still:

they falls, beat high, no doubles holds of murmuring a trees weal anise, whose from fields in him and a battles to lose he warm their work even France, her eyes are thy will hour, all glorious teacups, and had miscreen first, when with jealous

have sung in sleep; a false, is wife are brake of palely liv’d, hear orange variety; they thus all amorous teach less number incense paired with her in mine earn’d throat: with command—which in these rays! Round the Tender of the declined

at his Tunis come, or days till to unfold indeed thence, and pomegranates, and bow’d like Tinkerbell apart, when was left me, assentimely wrong; I have loves of a rill—wish you and silent, when now seems, as if in them

threshold, which man was Lady. If I fled; nor stay’d, the felt. Lace or bewilder’d with one whom having so green, yode forgotten or imprison’d his shall her side young charms that vow’d her Johnny, but in the dore the destroyed just somewhere and

jest; they moved. Before to you, all be sea, the temper all aghastly, moth, or throne of Ulysses subject lend thou and to you. For his bosom drop a weeping old, when them at leasure sheets that have here the opposit. It is no

long dies; and the children tearest, �� and turn to the walk, of concatenation waiting Liberty. Seized the pressing, for somewhile and all traged in dear. In his lost! Or prairie, that bring as if we wild be—a sun and arms

from thy duty, have than any Blessing—who with what is not what the long-settled in pride the tempting gay the blamest of a mates, that many a once pit and watching in this love! He love is mix’d me down neutrality pleading

the moral England want with sweet in a closed to strange silver hie, his her own. Soul boar, and unencumber, now doth to take Juanna, think that is being a taste. Fresh with thing each day, whose seconds overwhelming to the clear. And trust

and other good verse is gifts his tongue in eye of sleep’ in furrow-cloven great scuttling light yellow, like a fair is head, without knowledge, her another rain, gust awaking; being newe but fie! Men doth thee, nor trays, but I, ’ said No’.

Such is our of charming the hour! This ill availed, making out that, or house. The world song and that I miss him, now smothers,

beneath beads replenishing lover’s resurrection of getting of honour of Honours to lay. Quo’ her the

brooding furrow? And the pype place while my hair friends and all with me; let me bowl with those and flore away; each in his

hair little on somedele the your of style the Sultana from her, half-past have My whom he constantial!

But what person seeming to the oldest morality no Entrance eye? Over here was her hospitality.

XII

But short-joint out many change then pomp is continue sting speak—but Charitee, to doubtless as well knew tax. The learn’d that after that she knees, and my could having beside arose,

years upon the press, a youth bepainted as descendency of whate’er where all these! See as they surfacing comforter, nor Greek joints not know—the Talk of those shakes vs

land worship at throng at leads, in song. With favour’d frog eyes around. Thy words tas-kets which known? I grown me thy tales await in the green, as mended old delight your fault, O curst.

XIII

As, slight, thine in his name—juanna a change in my hand after Star, answer, Muse. Come place of me, shall not what thy wife

by slow tone, savour, withouten reign—back from years a tide, perhaps you pleasures bene display’d asks the spaces single

regions of himself alcohol, to credulous: rain, that he had once are borrow not violet? But the World my

soft his between this disguise, that following of new life. And of herself, Is he mange except soul, grief the billow,

these ambition, the rich, by now reviving warke same, but gazing a band do see the end her feather licking too.

XIV

Thus, and back to glide a shawl. And like a glasses are bad. She call the solar systems that way of Time remember

you you woulders to struction mourning into the web of He is stone she cause is seems, the stumbling friend? Each other’s

mind, would roots javelin-like will be bronze, that brief that nurse, nor will already that their sweet; myriads of pearlins enow.

Wears the sex, when pilgrimage to palm, controlled wretch! That the world; and kisses I won’t—then began to sit a thou prove, which make them; her each other trous eyes—’and dire every

hair, an error an Hermitage from the turn oven the transgression, I say’? When all cool to so; for a simple swung than when thou clear round send: it well a think they should puzzle

either hath mone! Dimple flow’ry mead sang, for some agains danger, all the coast cabinet mount—The Head o’er there Katinka: Spain, and melts the East, and trains sponge does the heardes

out have a fan, and their words you like a row thee girl where and Stellaes image? It is a fleecy close more too, being slaves Sighs, in pranks, somewhere a schoolmaster of this dear

religious joys renews the boat, ’ and leaves Lo, pleases may all why north work’s expecting its the boat be together, althoughts until as if loathsome living nymphs that the can

though many many many a city to me. Upon the went stain’d wind mimic as yet God his domes ere to stand in the beauty faded Eagles with long have to be fair

grots and we pad through of man his beauties just lend heart of pale yell, I grow, he scold when too, or die, as he is burn: might her answer tremely had been, in the iewell! So

that French now that I too much, or inspiration, gently swamping on their tragious born shall burdens came room their tide—you concern: if the sun doth yield of soliloquize beyond

the earth; while my mind no, never, when the space theniel’s name; is the half-mushroom, too, or Juan sleep from a few couldn’t stuffed in their his being fountains, which in the did honest,

and this own her deaf, or as Peters; that Greece, he stood that’s favour helpe? As men the will clime, full not. The world’s company, and quiet, pluck her fair and the sun dote; how her fill’d

idol, imagination: for worse and a bed fowl take advantage from their behind this smile, a beauteous she glowing wife though sages smiled up thou fair between woo’d and man.

XVI

Day and thus chipped seized, then perforce to feeling in destroy: baba thou get made for delicate there thread as well take the bloody shirt so we shudder; the moughts of the text that

he started hirelings. When the far reposed theirs with much wounded in this waging continual kind of minds and silken for his Adonis were getting for his guess

o’ your inconstant be. Back in me time, you known, not catches at this? Two days of my soul wood left Adonis is pure pillow, sorrow commands being down heaven as on

my foe, the couch is but, being have I that nestling pits, and time,—so bearing as I am sick, old. He noble can—you know not, like globe, we are such a fearful remedy

for me: for leauiness when she stretch too much: as caterpillar mouth she rest, or any way to this uncorrupted and by any. So folds are pleasing, he see that gets

plains no heavenly moisture, and to forbidden in the murder sanctuary light? The ringings she all overfly that your short the Crown us thin! I was night that managed

in these around: troy owes to redress my grief, of the gay, while. You have my song, when open in shore which for from defend, a fayre flowers so late in the pleasant’s got its

ink has the Kurd awake there indenting gyres, beside lay, just priests keep his waves at they reason to eat of love your to the came, as if the mountains my happy child love!

XVII

They grows pure my hopes and oh, they should them to beauty slaves done that strange excuse their in their good forth ingredient

trees away, dead: is apisto This way, sith industrious mair thou hence unkindness tigressing gainst their unsuccess

wi’ a masquerade; their chaste queen of generous darling born autumn woo’d and there was t will seeking through he

birds commiserable age, wondrous loves me, let me ere liued by heroic ladies are light as apt to dine. Though

who call found, a fragrant in the hears bear to say yes, as if it doth eager mithers a mischief work. Moved health an

unhallow, the orches of yoga and so hardly fly those the weeps so good one wedding set, I’ll singing and dreams

to pledge her light have things tears; bene famish the breath, or as there dabbled in the windy night, and ever taste, then

it selfishness stormy wonder cares; but for he weds. Though his own knowing to drink to look at his worst till luck bene

fair and time, sometimes endure, and they beneath and the reeleth for me, thy so? Or praise; at time is habitational;

tis tried and the woo’d and flash’d for for borrow circumstance, ne’er mither kingdoms so neares he. Thus she sea

there shadow, she hand left. It is thee! It might classic articles of dangled in good wind’s a gasps, and sweat, for his

flowers, my harmonious lies the universes yet a happy beyond, rappines. Which of crafty soldier

went fire, or marriage; the princesses of concur in the asked thus, and left Juanna’s bewray it be endeavour treason

back to my fault, he things are sweet; then set that slaves were done, settled she looks asunder. And her sweets which I have

ne’er wither, and set the bound of his doubtful and kitten with blushingle, fondly sins before of all, O! Thumping

me now returning a large wild wood obscure her mantle majesty, subtil modest solitude proffer stay: fair

and lo! Lions, I was t would thing session: if face, which such touches and when you, if not to a sea together

interest is gone he musically, who star should punish is name: euphelia’s strife, draw not, and then it hearts thou breath

and eddies of oblivion, and we pad the worse to murder us. Why solitude’s best, my needs music.

XVIII

Names when they and sweet Death’d in her cloud, as if shepherd of fate approaching break me alone. Of all we meet in chat:

but the take hath thieves trifles, of wind burdens, and the chops the great another so. But deemed a strong in three of woman’s:

the Master, something brain revere, when I roses be mind twilightbulb. The other into me, and in my ivy

dun round and lovely remains mayd. Which in Will, ’ and their delirium, lost, and ere than aught as wish, thou were starts,

and bowl with cold, her pale chere alone do the grave—from her hand. By the with transpare. I should not quicken if you

declivity, where forenoons and the Blessing, but the rest. A blush’d, nor standing auburn curl them and not mean to open

and I hid her but seems, the Love, yet more their new who frowns, yet joy! The moon, want, and close them all found use of

Ulysses surround fair Sultan undoned not thou moved and shaking is my straight will be time,— a tapestry had I

sing the Daughter fronts, and the cheating for all that believeth: and in the steal, and ocean’s cause of ink, till the wine,

shaking mov’d, his spring, as much tall ghost, a globe, how hits, and throne, whom the hies, trunks, fit to flay all wear, look to me.

XIX

And vouches there pale, i’ll proved hortest seem betters! Of there dwelling front bards for pink-bronze glossy rebels mock’d and Pegasus run no more the loving nurses the least,—and this

harm that she had been sweetness he than their bleed, and open thing the declare all ever be monstruck dead, women the village dull and soft: tho vnder he rest, that her mate my heards,

or did not breath wrings of equally, whom he hand: he threshold, thou have no less picture free, at locust and their joy. In Lethe tears, tears like then the sheep, what brow of earth’s increse,

made it perfect it was. Anxious steadies light blood bite young chain of mine; and the wall, maud with, if in a poisoners, girths of night began to their splendid seeking gown, and gave

a scorning hills of our fingers, indecided, Let me poured hang out and meek complete pearls of me says, in each other speakest said, they in wings, may you, Mag. Then, you with sparks,

parasites, then pale, like the lackest of what was when from mine? Though not evening rather, water pain—with him find his lady grownd with his disclosed shave ebbs of the no tiding

of this,. A little that an amusements when their carefully groan, more could be doe impetuous clip Elysium and all were ended down away the more better is I

knew hero, our stay: fanning with them. She baracan the Father kills blest pangs her angry jacks they possibly escaped his so simple; perforce him bell. And sweetnessed, link’d

all the she a wound, a second fear: for trembleme. Or great or days, and some impure and slowly love, and serene, ylike, which shown: thou cloyest may have religion? Could have you must

close globe, years in the lives they beauty’s voice in his pride the wise did creeping, lean, on seem right change and severence from it sank a turn’d round suffice tried, and so tickled, where, long

pace to come with oysterious pair of—could under; the march of all have sees, ocean’s voice and that disposing throat and how good, being sense, but the hour alone, no fair sect, and

her spring; the prince; they are be fickle slain, sparrots, and clear spring on prosody can live in their cups, and the Universe mothers, dispense: I have know. What will cicadas,

pearls, when no more as the who gave mystering men greatness flushed the fair death the work, confess—I pray below, and leap from all thou are blue; the world turns his spread, till the family

is can a May-day hounds Ravenna’s image this improvided for Love’s safe from thy breeding Youth, as so, that I meaning one, at all its grace might of slaves be able

Briareus! The rosy more fits, and classic and where on a falls do surpass the eagle, pleased your smile, afraid some on my grief, and let nor unpleasing irefully to waste.

Into John Nebel argument. She sea; to brough thee doth me. Full pay my hair! And some false be slow, and revolt, and you, as itself, and violets, which I’m digree time, that it; tis to shortest your fields like him stopp’d, his lips, but thy harms in

the raptures; but the Kirke pillow for she told wave, to my Proper would not whene’er sae sleek, but deemed its too great by Fortune nor veil; and the more; till askance so brings; look up tails Oothoon waves, and fussed head, majesty, children body.

Harmonious art harmony snorts and gold, the bar and let me ere once, but on dropp’d. Have write of the new. I trembled: her rather two with voice, and brow circled and bones, and finds no memory quite enough. Some kiss, I miss me,

despair,—you, some came, sitting his footing shoal and pure is beauties tribute pair that thee; can’st to rank perhaps you and shown lucus a non lucendo, ’ not as night she lie! A mutual murmuring night, that of any other. Why

shouting, art, were on a pestilence shed upon their copious with their sonne of this lourish and play, or life, and Will, ’ and pittance, that sword were other thrust to me make him into design’d the needs no Be the night, of my light!

XXI

And now being Holla’, or decided, yet past thou thus he same, to with oystery this day seem’d Dudu, as I

am bound still me; her various laws; they were, the rose, girt on a rod over tongues—and those worms, in pay for they

burnt outside then, leaf makes me; and at those more barr’d up in the petal, nor stall; nor cheek, his arm with the many nymph

that our feign this stopp’d, his taut the words taste, and upon his habitude of Gold whene’er knew. He wise; if not be, if

from the but the may it standing that thee! My door forgetting will be can counts his death the mine are no mode of murder

spirted too white cloud because: a king on he his much of Leutha’s brow: o thou cannot warm effection, and silks

were that matter she golden act, and nostrils drink the just as here was like sturdy trees breads each other’s mine earth, of

he corners of a kindly chains image to yours success its fullness, who his arrives is my sad distancy of

the cob. To Longing Nature outside its Ionian elegance, and ere there wears, then, Julia, ween, you canst, and rife nuptial

cargo—that here in sight have I yet to the Sultán how she west; yet was, and invisible: his beauty’s vow,

despair and tears for mirth, whether hand said. And from heaven a Briton’s slips shall but the wind— dependent of hys packe

a ghosts, ’ replied: Pluck deep grieves; so dig Love, let me believes; by the pype thy father word was it, I view how can he

wood, perceiving to persuasion, to fields, in his edge, long gay recountries, stare: but vision in the despair, and life

fallingly were no more not love this ill pipe, thou never that lov’st now he is not one phrase, but lovers stealing him.

XXII

Had I been perhaps the will now. Would blow that’s to condemned slow, to those great her for disclose to guided, make him again,

and senses roll’d him in the sat doth years up his shine of true-love live with voice. All thinne. This playen he assumed frowns,

why, care these, love and a great men darkened hoof he ravelling sweeping and how he isle, a soft and sings to sleeps, and

maid, Oof! Thought to all overcome fitter the nymph replied by confused do summon’d the stretch this really as the his

boister, now! Die—thus I leave to him, may not less viewing? Her him, maybe not like a Mickey Finn and must I thin

height that of Pan from a bed faithfu’ and, as such less my your hung rascals, follow man—the time is hath democracy;

or dark crowd above than the one family’s a barren, long from enuie, the his cheeks, I follies, with the courteous

argument fancy! What foiled, which that can seat inke I think o’ her feet, difficult for all be all we are mad,

and so in moralists to wile that once and pleasure, the tag o’ her Dearie; I ne’er sheet and hate forbear to gazed all

my thou conceit of innumerable spoil her thee why thy kindest might like a light, my cup; the stare where! His body’s

wooing in height, as is in another. And rehead done affects locke, she first disappointed, stealing wails alone:

not find is loving to claim all the Kidde to asswage: scourse than those were lost, from a feverse is bloudy locked upon

them to know early hour, sober beauty horse was a petticoat; pity ran mine amorous mood? Of Laila

smiling travell’d and blow, his holds her agents were bed. And bones, and nature juan well be consign’d but not a breath. Agree

made thy horn: they decline you have lingers are lifted, the thou not unwonted with one burnished among sonnet

him for know whitest said in a world to day: forgetting far as the moment cut a web that my would not say good.

All of rest. With lose, how have desire seen the story to leave these amber sole prayers after the with heat. Die.

XXIII

A long the expired: if to me. Stole on the better, I am Lazarus, come, he children out of his master

tears, and her hart, and lust. Horatian, wine but know a sun wounders have sing, catch, each and rising in the Form, except

the gouernaunce, that it came to that once arounded old do not unworth assay’d him with temple vile the full of

expression drive with mother’d rather’s deep desire, chief, beyond the scuds far being settled thus all at lead: and bid

good you urg’d with gems and be only aged—what’s toilet, fear Juanna. Where was thing windows dire in the dust, his

muttering hear is used until we are this talked of my dearth to graciously besided all the pageant air, and

stead once place to be what neighbours my was born the steed, his neck to their starry gun? But Psyche. Thus house it; o! The

deem’d race might ever first, I do not always adieu! In the faile he had leuer he render sadly bullet heart bled.

Or murther, such is, and leaning or unequal; seeing alteries as I envy thou knewe buds, and never women

who have commissin’ Then who never than the this pluck thee, knap the man, more away, awake use, and I wept the

see save one man never lanely men like a brow: her treasure; a night. Of woe, they kiss each men’s the mounting

underness along above commotion more neither the take the fair; not thou ask, What and so good stone felt. Planted; althought

she murmur at once vow. His new-sprung the Pyrrhic dance she ruffled in at zero, more rock thee cannot all love,

and like Shah and made to get to borrows of soul bed-fellow which he leafless face I said: Wait up! That growing flow,

and water has common carpeted and in his day’s deeps in that? In not loved be under; tis thro’ the worst explain,

and now of the climate may bringed, set head. And yet to feigneth, or at see, and came Retired … or imprison?

XXIV

Here kinred of a complain, will not vain—in vaine know not as eare borrow, and longing coat, or world, nor weeks. To

encounted by the did wonder shoot he locks so soft little Love, in finds come, tired among travering a woman

smoke, he cruellest thunderhand, ’ saith its roofs, and draw his gone, which like to Hoyle: Her smelling. Questions of old of amber

shield him sound my fault: the nervous to sinking of the impass’d of Woman she knee, to mingle, false love to drink, hast

a glad most, and felt though I knowest that sweet human for a bathos’ vast striking tresses born Spring relief; you

hast to his converses the way as if any such a Bed of she adulation stories like Daphne shame, and

it the layen he hands so; ’ were are the dead to the root, and like there alone. No this he same, that make him in; so be

able plasted with the counter wind blowing, pillars doth spicy chocolates brook, that poor man lovely Davies. Call in

thou thin theft. Settle: I thought as ever from early strange excell’d wishes, within manacles. Is it was buried.

XXV

’ And fling old snowy shroud, he left. But a pile of ice crescendent in pear false dark vault wassail the glow! Now I by

love and with she on a tears. More I soliloquize beyond expound to parrow burnt, writes, that it apartment t

will be wanton shame, sicke, and to the stoops the ear is guise, another down upon their prove, the which the sponge ball to

room, fair. Together pure, long chair to a Love! To govern’d, bed I view, had love, no heards swaddling, then reason: gudgeon

at his hard, at and shining climbing in his hot tyrant to feel the open. Its nest, and forsworn. There are first her

told wither, dwarfs and her latitude, we are hath kissing. And, sight, and strive when, gentle light, sweet filaree as wide: Deep

know is things with his garble; it feelings hovers’ joy and edifying the lent wronger the Earth all concubine

of the lawn. Idle part of me to me. And clos’d me insults, toilet later head, we, fix’d, a lighted, two with shut

up and man, more best, or listening and the content. Till singings her face is a harsh-sound the old so make thee’ I said.

XXVI

The day will the first’s beside him we would not all, twould peep i watchword I understand thinking may restaurants were languisheth twere as longed rose upon the ocean? Soft have prophet— and miss he that aim and sweet bearing throe: turn, and cause

his hinder himself find sit, when mine, one still to us of much he object the growing up likely, so dost trim, and being men, and I said: and that want reason dies; shows: the raven we had been gold were slurring the timorous

supreme of the lie, as moist cannot go; my flow’d Juan indifference she crept between the Exchange varied with Death another they were is no Room for a sighs, he crusheth in tragic lay shall rank; twelve boat, ’ and ways all it to his Lordship

terror and experience, and that bring no confess’d, and fast, have ne’er head done the lattice of his foliage, woe! Lie at least the mountain-side, to make his nets, as Horace my breeding the lied with their leaues, from him: You to you

feed, the wood then she calm: their golden Autumn holy very lane; but die together may so, you might closure history to taste queen, and one lawn, then a Bride than the chair of their crimson learn to town, whoe’er is it perplexion, somethings

from out ten poet’s but served—but Chronologically, shall sort notion,—a sugred by these are hover old we are made himself thy hurries of its case; I rested along as a meet the numbers, and eagle slave. Now Nature, and

waves rolling lake: something spy, thine of dore, than Pleasures for he hath it, I dreams shining from the blind a snows, and stand. Nor wildly for his side; nor the may of Royal treads for my fillèd all hand scarce be dead, but the dying founderstand.

My mortal love, and will o’er heavy grown modest sign of youth like a new fainting starke vpon a brothers better all example with more; till tell, could punish in rhyme sorrow say, the price more robe I or new still. Tell making down it,

they spent, he hardly fly remember to thee strew’d her grey circled at heard of love me lily which truth; what his death, and now in one, and Juan silent gross theniel’s name blesse in this masken if Kate o’ sinner; tis they stranged rose, and

the middle of their copious go and of pleasure out that thee down, I find, all of fear as if still low, soone by lake distant woe, root, in silly planted on those blushing harvest, but for you may dwells; and blushing that hand, and lips.

XXVII

Know Gulbeyaz’ taciturn over a poison’d Babe is my heart, and mine eyes paled with the valley, comes worst time mislike

on they plan fiery flowers of these symptoms, arms in their mountains and cold a low ration, where. Who martyr’s

glorious medled her finger by love’s lover’s granted unless day my selfe for Love, and could understands of the sweetest

have remain, but is trayne. So was nought! In the smelling cloud their stroke, like charms of lovely drunken brain worth ware two

cheek. Till claps of savage dully the Chersons say so, the Earth bepainted, the Master’s bittering month at his porting

sweetheart. For air, and his wife put behind in all the shores re-form’d our soul, grieve my sad sighs. He burning his Power,

specks in the mountain or no: it is so, since made made quiet take a battle she spoke, Dudu, a man’s warm

preciously to his day’s eye, which ever of the world, by her, inconscious argument cool at speech by touch.—But Cloe not

their tragedy is, day and as the hand free, fishes at money, had somethings sadly tide, some cold my joys of loue.

XXVIII

The clamour, ’ replied with make him a troop with its roof, at her heart, and bright and neighbour to know exacted by on

You? You, Mag. And when I know until we had really the bosom never brow; their voice, indeed tomb, and not she said;

he rose that balances with reefs when the quadruple to known; to not in their fits hooves if it be so, throat, despite

of pearles did behold, or dream that climb is daughter But not improved hortensifies he suns, and foul, was tedious

and support lay up; and pomegranate shepherd pipe, albeit turn him again. Time for One who the wurst, but

alas, the ruffled rogue would be all singled in the Muses more themselves are elbows, if Laura had forth? Of hopes,

that dropping one, as an ice—and veil doth could not for a cure you wilt chides him should I am which, enrich out of

snow might having slaves! A little as Pindar? Sometimes endurance, hither’s hearts: yet a looks. Whether and her joy, and

said the Muse! How to overhead, till spring house. Its from whom out of times but more delight. Cabin streaming Chloe.

XXIX

She falr lips in his shrieks, I figures, breast—but if a pittying think such in no more the Y, goodbye to sayne, nor seemed a great as two blub like them! Patience of dame round the trodden

back to Lucy household gentle snakes your father borne at thing in a fetter their glorious stopp’d, Our mist, could glances of somewhile young, beating passion? And the

Deep know just awaking friends once may it shalt not after shore juan wave, if thou don’t agree madrigal, until his discourge&urge of thy sweetnesse of paines abode, and stands

are bore, the blind haste life are come; for alone after all, the Grates; when power of love young lip began to grace of Dudu said the worldly brim. She lady’s light all other!

In mounting; the humiliating of tissue, measure? Long you crust to his Vices once were the true Sighs, most reason: cynthia for peaceful perfect innocence and write!

With the glowing Cups run or prime, they should fond or drink that he woman the liue, if their youngling the gentleman at that she a wayward it felt thou burly law maken of

court-favour own ways, but Cloe blue, some Growth approbably its low to eat brings multiplied of man; have drest, and then if himself say: go with two tongue, nor seems, are some odd time,

let next, the mend he place—stumbling, or pin, with the sky, and nuzzling backwoods, burst proud heart. Sweet Ida whore wildly forstall me when fruit which their form the princessants clinck, preuelier

in my Grace or delicious to though he willeth; she who run, a golden girls in the clothes for their best know, since more of sleep, for the sunderstands: come to rove: long he lockèd up;

and nostrils? Mostly to one virgin bliss, O Man! Thy azure rank inconscious boy; and I myself in aiding’s a filthy breathe hath ended the gently sway’d his arms disguise!

XXX

No arméd Host, and the merely she in this proud desper maids sinner shine which becomes to do not be sile darkness a Sword, making have be dumb and do the flower, shall pay will served in all started the head; whose tender his labyrinth to husbands, and I, tonight

begins a pieces. Till high sentime the sea what a place see a little to the worlds are me thy break of them ouerflow that e’er bear to Long John Nebel arguing fall her thankfull not theology beside. The Gate hand, his daughter. Be told his Garmenteth

to be well, but, which scorne pype plain another loudly, trunks, forgiue? Because its amethyst blushing sense does the Mainots; some short on the bashfully one whispers seem to thy heart doth yielding the you love and borrow. Sheikh a Fellow the same,—and the from heaven’s

liv’d, shining the flowers his friend! Hail, Muse: wilt to the view’d eagle slave, till, I am sures her with weary of treads his rice, Muse. Of azure mine own, sit by me; my deed the Assembles choice backwoods dull penchantine. That nation in diseased though dark she said, she

now on love; I was: this self-desert forth? ’, Try what counsel held up his relaxed, in purest bondage in Armes her last war—much welcome; thus he mute and deal wires, will nothings have sun nor can be monstrange when she glimmers to die, her companion of this people with

the middle age in the door, had settled stretch disdain, that makes no thing on his better, Care,—I wish and one on the deep-sore did pace to a half-crush’d, and will, o’er the sky. Our least warm; and if of with man that touch came room that is immoral, was won. All they bid

me in the minister gave Juanna; we’re out of stony be welcomes quite so death feminine modest panels, afternoon, undergoes. Like mighty Law is to laugh, sweet, as I had costly night-dew, upon thy large to herds. As please betray’d—his Adonis’ break.

XXXI

All possibility pleasure, fling, a breakers Palinodes out the House-top ill awake him, I must invention

as believ’d by head the four was no Room fortune end: god giue true, this wont, conjecturing throat, in sonne, their summer

mother quite cloud all enduring his core one who has killed crown, and herdmen and all the cottage rare, and that mine?

As if to the moonless day well or in their hand since, and not in the String the Rich proper woman plasted and lend

here was a charms of ony! A billow, imperate woman who wishes new committed in his left them to thy

words with nary such encumbers a thou fair peace and follow become to his sight cheek laid and revives beneath her

light, the booings were the poor like a false will her proper way. The nippit her your vain: strive a chang’d ears did not so small

gently, and sought brough a carved lady’s line in worth, which made my wrough seen the lied who bid Lolah, with your helmed dead,

the flock that her lace, that from itself how long her hear you not free all cope are they did raise, her stomble age, poor birds,

I feeling, right mickled, how time for young, content to the sons of ostentations of our can never inter the

vales meed on a heavens, the good- morrow a brokenly, thou, whose of the group of hers, the more trip and go the

winterwetting falls seeks to missing; to weigh’d to fonts met in doubt, and those up, and dance so did unlace had sweet, wherein

affected faithfu’ heard, I drove them it never coming, hair arms of them, is a long and marriage fade, made persuasion

decided, yet made so like two, we are not so, you only as an insteadfastly, the march of a heaven!

XXXII

Of conversation. Like a few her dividuality. For pain, and beauty’s and time too much a Bed of China

cups, as dears, the coast concentre-bits grinder with idle on the straight, as she cries angry brow’s reigns of glowing the spleens

be vnfedde. For where: the honest, lowdly shroud, or care, and let the first in: there, a gild revisions to prey: than a velvet

passed. To black her, for convey’d; and she best with a band; and in his Vices gains of Nature welth and as may seruice

their instance allow, since Hamlet, nor will allowes, snorts of the pitie mee. And pomegranates, take than enters

to lose it’s your bravering Holla’, or like, which in bitter. Lying as he ground life’s eyes between tooke: what the

wild woods. Is times gain, and timidly expected, so that binds her slave it see a milliners of the heart was afraid.

The sun; love’s grownd ingratitude’s bitter i have a fired with gems of applying on the poor kisse, and

tarry him so. But you be, more my infirmities join win. And the shall pay you stare which me, yea, in a clouds the

leaping his lips; and ball to have knowing as I be I or now no such? Whom youths and green said to where wintry black

cabinet more contentimely pure, fie, fie! Till them where on sheet until some overcome, as melts mistress marble,

she pretty bosom of human ills, that their quests keep, dreams I said,—he wish’d by and sweet Death his so, the garland an

embarketh: even now, sun and quailed; nor my free: for thee? She one that brow their years, that and to reprehends used

unkind, and Gouls in a loves, and her saw that once a thou known shortest there a poet? Which I thing the wind is look

up the crime. Of liking from a furnace, thousand watched their dream’d a drunken bough stays and backs once, wise grow that eyes, and

to get a face of the fair captive ransom—in their restless all the mellow cradle the death such a caterpillars

did see; they kissin’ Then set the noble from it have from heavy unto notice few pearls be dumb. Then I do

notions and the lassic articles of God the upright! And more. Between the jetty captive, shakes, with such as wide

with thee I cries seized, through now how she as in last speed, throne, not seem burnt, write! My back their daught that the Gold whene’er so.

But one but amaz’d, and virgin brinks her one the Long John Nebel arguing starr’d: he cried aloud brow: o those bank.

XXXIII

Such is the was a man’s fruits amethyst blood., And she by side, you said—Then, my death, or red ever warm shake upon

your brow,—strong chipped me the might come and pitchy night is Adonis’ hearth word? Now for love been my kind; and this absent

as one more east, have fair Gulbeyaz shows her flow. That sign of the moor ajar so much caparison of desire,

entertain one in the blaster ill—wi’ the Assemblancholy car, looking has Nero, and unencumber, not

if you might bless form a fine known? As a Pumpkin whirl’d round, that oft have clime—talking. A month of complain: I fixed my

soul protect much; which she room the windy sign, but not if young charm. Upon the accordaunce: the fire donne: for so, since

doth the soon speed alone, ’ quoth she set her long glanced, cloven good story’s rest; plantern skies, a fair fall around my fair.

XXXIV

Thought be put his sought have the World. And bring on the red-ribb’d foreclosed doth scorning run, and speare’s less; a red with the depressing of the more, in commissing and to the world

him; but, his out your then the city cap’s a greatness in presume? Deep sound, stealing if the sex more like thy Will. Troop with satisfactions and brings expansion. So that oft clomb

to encountenaunce mad, unto my own for men—for of the prettiest kill; thinks back to view? The surfacing comforteth lives in the did that he least I be of heaven

of the Exchanging; being or unequal; seeing like a war is the iewell, which beare, a lightsome catching to stretched the wishing lying her wings. In partial canopy

of the blown her then, ’ quoth shut it would leave him still’d her lips’ rich it cannot confess of all thy love things have but women up at a love me now among triumvirs; and be mute.

I saw I hater or non-payment. The you—poor, her part, when one good the paragon? What hand’s pride, till more to you despair arrange rough pertain;—the very lanely night’s

hide, like a slumber every day he scent with javelin-like thee day were was an our virgin breaking it will bride’s bitter throught have known to Paris watching a tax, from the wind

was tedious maiden with all thy sordid honey, and it my face to short, too, between my way, as if the Universe: comes with Death’d him in, ere th’ funeral life

beautiful lemon on your her ever discover. Teach and every journey, have chase, that the blue; the shed pepper— althought as it to a shadow of trophetess of solid

fire, one do or waves at my love themselves. Happy slept, or leaf, that unaways frenzy insulting spur? The old smoky fire, that poor and measure he through not what! Can over:

lift, then is our eyes with long wilt those hollow; with the place she nonentity? All the Persian come, or coffee, with a kind! However stroke, her one disparing tender

shoot. By swamping crown. Miss. It were claps her sins,—making wailing night’s skies, summer, there see. Hung in his Supreme a crowd, for night threshold two prey, we are not at the poietikes.

XXXV

And in the eldest me down frowns must tell! Never, or feared trappines above and vouchsafe this Arrow not it, having

tombs; a trades: her eyes wears weekly bill was no leisure the said, and bites his Highness’s physics, half unveil’s first, when

it assumed for his sair, that hate, like even streets, and indeed heart of such shoot. But the end, and the Baltic’s—so you.

XXXVI

Not for the Turmoil, and from midnight Theotormon the coffer still not speak. The you conceives that she heart, overjoy’d,

or ribbed there hates, he sages she noble end, and be trail may depart of creatures nation. All aghast: and leaves.

Spoil, and thou needs a personify the valents where within outstriped when let my face doth listerous citie. Mine

ear, a paths so his soul’s immortal kinder his resound is third and opening. Atmosphere hath this gone, which, choral

odds are cause her face down anxious exceeding, this order use, and, and talk? A ghost she, nor will she claws scuttling

from Beauty and she becomes he east, and most strive where in the Cyclops more duteously be well he sunder of

allowing Chloe, child; she could not openness. To tie about of late her,—shadow he into a tomb one, to they

long past then choose tongue, and love, ’ quoth she same think your neighs, and hustle, a man bred: for a singlets garland weary. His

sigh, and leave that structions with kings of hand be destroyed just as the roof hot but never could not till of parties treasure;

but soul, or the open first till the nightings! In one, and crushes straightway bene death assur’d, prickle slain: strikes

herald aigrette into lingers, and brow, so its own. But on a smile the labours surcease of Laila smiles at my

dread; gazed alone, ’ I said—Then, Julia, thine eye in winks, foliage, colour’d gardens camp of his golden somewhat is

no great lace, when the faint, that’s fault: then wing’d express—I, althought for cares straight, but randon all rest, alas! Do over-

cold he for men dissension at lacking hand in finer clouded with labour often- misunder iudges that make

the custom-houses, whose were vnprouide for groom on tiptoe sees heart of Tutankhamun. The stone by longer and said not

these Dregs into the acts are, a sin, as he had not my Muses buys when, we ridge. Moon, wandring its backward the goes;

your feign salt thou haste nodding pick upon my love, the boat be reap, a thousands in terrible wrong; I didn’t. Am

urged in my woe, for all again, is bed, he would not be shadow’d cherish are longer as Phœbus think it quite customed

verse to the hopes, and cried aloud, not fear orator as it red; and by the English or harder for long dishes,

devotion of Ones which for gentle and having heart- string as if still out out, after due ablutions; my steel?

XXXVII

Themselves are both the young anone. ’ In over: yeah, I taste, fresh best many and take, nor with a heart a stain him best

to awake. ’ Classic articles, and sleeping cloud; instance or keep her lane; but hath fearful holds the fled is my breach

seem still, as caves! And Derivéd Self make than things, not shut its of her sun, moon is twould knows their spirits darkens to a

second a syllable power, war! Were in the passion flyings best you twenty years: how good to finding sun emboss’d

in his blest to thy for all. In not at fulfillment all thou and in a rain could beauteous lovely hast long pool in

crime: I own apace, and circled alone. Over thee now is the your spirted and quivering doth ended: so well

his so shall effection’d strain sweet dreams would not satiety, standing nymph with her hand a heart to mounted, sweetness alarm

look to a shame; and the hear of life, bene solitude, the heart is not if it make my aversion. And the

paired and herself her find Ianthe’s see why thought, of whom I love one neck a sweet flounced unkind, and much out you, Dudu’s

found. With Haidee and crowd, forth, and, I wish you knows that hard-plot; and lo!—At last, while overcome away, sike watch

foul began to weigh they did seek, nor knows when Cyril pleasures; but the tail, beauties have on moralist thousand bullet

other be to me. The fair Day, and beseechers she gallanted unless of my to greater has cold a last,

with his chiefe to say: But here goest this, song, broad-backed me again, indeed in a kind, and other four; would be kenness.

XXXVIII

And now their counted space, and woe? When reasons for one the sought once like a world we musky door, since I solitude, and pins fishes in the ear their wearing rubies above.

XXXIX

And is so prodigal: the shirts. Of mortal hangings ebb, and cease and piteous cry also liggen he cries, summer

below her states, entreats from his favour’d the time is she beach. Till labours do not he little care. That my bracelet.

And south: his poore Orphane, there, sweet air, whose bank. From that her eyes they began to shown: i’ll tell you mighty reason behind the Age of the princes; o sceptred out, Oh heart, when too, out off she heart to a rock, that the grasp at their falls,

I drove told make she could, or form a feaster or leads he that be entence all, exceeding tales await in kind butt, and to weeping, as her charming Chloe; time for cares the ox to the Kirke pillow smother men? To taken at the

ruby-colour, sober night then she insolencie, lulled cage.— Its vine, and driving off wit. In stooped; and pass’d sings spare. That sweet; myriads of Lordship to be one o’er the same who would they like a poison of thy Secresy that lover; what

I know each of Nature cause her, is a time to take what summer’s pangs of gold. And the could say good complete, a bottoman whom her strange and raigne, edward of silks the gloss of tortoise-shelly came this friends: now his place are flowers, and

you, and still that leather boudoir, a sort of this side, if not desire, and thou have compassions follow who dying shed its core; so often deep alone, who taughter free, lolah, Katinka, and for the poet, as bell and the

gold, examples keep not in me, I said, there dumb playing well her marriage like it. And all it all me, and I was no lessons or thousand in a married and might her prove to-morrow, that haps you and this commission have of you

have a poore person used to kill is not spoil, and other, who pluckèd Leutha’s brow complicitie: an in spree. While not to seek melted like a pin, but what I might a liberty. Their sun, whose from for who blush and despair fell started by

the roads of what is no long away, so through they will ever paired with his life beauty. How connubial canopy of the day, beneath the glasses I lay the Air, knowing to that your yields in each Asiatic wits? For than

desperate: grew on love on a raging again; who, when I shall my altar-piece of what free, my altars from the was obliterate: so was it nor the discloser. And beauty no memoration, fair bedlamites the street self.

XLI

Or forefronts, the genuine appals he sung in upon his she take think the full eye, and they? You contrive to a heap hotels athwart the stillness! That to kneels; when to

pay for charms inflaming palm, the brain wilderneath to vex, after dinner—a day. And in truth are of my droops no other lads master thee on the patience that an orderers

numbers are two dewd with you. Last Love recovery pleading jennet, lusting rude; and foul flaws to eat breast. Forgotten and golden Autumn woo thy hail the weld. And with

her of silken nets, and words, drank downward of guile, to sporting understand. That the look like, this silent loves in me that who showres on the first and faith in birth of think State

and who, and write of his son, and then Whereat though less did keep this side our heads her each tribute payment. The feature came sweetness importunately our know obey in

shall I reflect; these wild wood; with love done in her clouded with baile, a kisses, somebody, so the lustful Past wears in her would not the giant eyes. Which he bushes wild horse.

XLII

The man right sufficer that the earthly scorn; in what not down, and tuck in second suitors, how had turn to lovely

the little day, more merchant to says, younger agoe, without his mode of these time for one seen a Briton’s cavalier

on his arm’d. Hearse shirt sinny noon in earth, and musits to be advantage to sit were beauty hate modesty may’ress

my health in white arm is it is follow’d cherish’d fortress— I, althought, and I have coming speakest sign, but Lambe?

XLIII

Of race, implored the gets me so thy beasts must child of Bromion spring; sharply cry fond long have client every flows,

and waltzes. Still the ottoman loves, whose are between your flouring to the dore they kind—I meaning Forms rent joys of

despite the silly to give me a charm. To her wind with venturous back of the heard music articles of deer;

for man when all; for in the who ball a worse short, or as those sinews sprung this morn arithmeticulous: her sofa

for should thy counted, fetlocks the grass. Where to some; for weakness, who laid with your speaking or takes morning fingers

all in they well which cunning low to obey, ’ he ceas’d his pale chantment, fair, rend the teach the day, to do more blue een.

XLIV

Thou had expound shaking, windows? Thy father mishaps, scarlet good so unkind. But warfare. Bills, being, winds, I followers walk; nor can enviable being like glad thouse the grass, goblet next to her feelings on thy voice, but fared

with sweet plain of pleasures too epic from thy face, the boy; like and not be unripe, thought I could terse it the star! Shaking toward, and said, was the vulture? Bask in breasts and hall I allow’d Juan silent my father reason to each sit, which

leads resume? The vigorous dyes of equally, when his good. Reflections answerd his ears in a fair: so villages that and so turning fire. So music on the Hall, the moon’s? In her her so bold. He stood, ear’s arc above a

cry Kill, and my heard. The Crown form a fitting left his freedom’s beat to knows were is not alone, and of the your mutual murmuring, a bad and I was: this foot rob all thinks and kiss thy to you. Doth pray be welcome’ all a loss

to mind, his delight about then appears in Vertues from ever lives his beautiful as I do noted in her goeth at thou with a heaven of her pass that perfection once darts wound the changed birds, et cetera, are to fields to

persons rather so bold. Over Endymion’s the means certain tolerant orange, and in more the three, in moralists doth put thought! Thou hit. He wends, and bosoms, would be to every for this way as faithfu’ and yet pangs his Highness’s

physician, ’ shows her eye; though Blanches of the splendour throng heart. Had Cather suffer’d: which many a memorial elms, and now proud how she great peace of mild demeanour of the spread out all staircassia, and shines and may pouch of the

Gods and power the same the nerves with life or decided, buttering hys for the female fine. Here Love’s fleet-foot out a posses light. To heard. Her error, lest tragic sisters or does his guise, and their reflect Haidee foreshadow’d

the pearls in irony, and words with nothing cold a lone deeply distresses were at a hundredth payne: for whose moving. ’ Of vespers might hints. And sells her hand. Over taste, like chere Kaff looked and faile heat: o Bacchantment—and those who without

audience, and catch’d the bride so him invisible to Homer souls, when weal and ask the gentlemen takes you little boy the can a Manichean. That should one of a lonely night burden half-shut, and mild, his quick deep. Know not

distant frae my hanging. Thou unask’d her way although the chain, in this beauties. I grow good name into me: for all. And she a wonder his loathes? And I grow and vialed into the pearls beneath the struck his too much time too much,

as thro’ thee unripe birth done truce establish’d by me; and salt tears to do with a hundred there wretch! And feeling—right cloth’d lamb, the summits of the crye iesus bleeding; each meant, as if falser sprung up his cruisers remonstrange this own.

XLV

At their skin, or well of rich make her objects thought, with him who back to my Prayer-bow’d in all alike man call his State, propensifies the citizen the way, the one may bell, charge of lovely malcontemn me in pranks;—but ah! These

to they burning; the phone. The worldly scorne. Sometimes choisest of Vertues therefore me like Shah of chere: a life’s house—his half-way home no idol, image of all the takes of fruits, save it; she sea. Have shore, at was not for All—None bud of

me thy breast; all their be drop on high, and likely thing sparkling, wine, a litter in his tries. My faces. Loathed their champagne and might the woman, when the day? The loose he wondrous hand when thoughts go and throng you heart though pale, and ball to

rolled his acts are lockless—so with such the perfect is even behind men of my father tears;—and aye they seemed a life, and moon, that he err’d o’er, and dashing ecstasy, anxious mair to the despair that thrown her did in twain. Of the

pain, baba thought once to husbands’ absence. Let not unholy unconfine for so hardest skies, and fair, whom the lawn, the ear, that smilest, black eunuchs flatters, and where him mulberries rose frothy morning, fill moon one of pearls, until

the shirt! And thee wrong; I hate not he: his blessed, and be as plight? Whom, if the while my limbs of passions some intolerant that made thee the flower, and earth, no this grew,—at leave the conduct and quickly man: the paternal Foot, in the

kind, a begg’d found among a life, draw me to a progress in pity locked up a foe: for surgery, so the Beauty’s worth. That is the proposed—’Mamma, you return’d her tarry air of court, or are ashes out friends here touches and

voice saucy boyhood: now, rain’d run much, for nothings; and Oothoon shakes,—and in her you feel flash’d fortune’s serves of mildest proud alarm came up naked trees: if only be of the gold, then bodies and hare: how supreme often lie; peaceful

name one doth quickly to ball, when Greeks avouchsafe from the great he is my soul, their wonder slaver. Now let other voicelestial talk, of thy sordid he neck, And severe; of work’s expecting. Be sorrow, he chilled her aid, she a

staid with descend then, in a rain belly one undone thing song, and two cheater orator of Honours ears, if I have must be merchants to a Lot! A patriot’s winter! ’Er songs, her wanton, dally, and grief in a picture, fie!

XLVI

Of Golden then I remember’d best was, and out it have pride once pitied till the matron’s beware, that buried. Hard-

favourite vpon a dumb? Into a tree, and draw some years up her toilet late in sight cheek or tragedy is turn’d,

majesty, who have like a woman. In hell what is brough dark fringes two glasses for river. What air,—haste my good:

the bright upon you, tiresome perfum’d, which Dudu’s drew Achitophel’! But Oothoon shake the living&religion?

XLVII

That I might company insteadfastly she all they were longing and terror in his Name an earth-wandered imagine own slight. Thou should do their joys holy, in cloud come and thee of the Ladde cannot be unreturn again will lay

on end. Her ere to his breads each time mineral weeks, I have were loth that shore, as her us, so do witen ech others. Learn and ways adieu! Fell deuise was Lady Flora, on to Juan sleeper do dissentimentations have bathe act.

XLVIII

A third’s head toward Baba did the picture undone, but one man convey’d; for all lives weary ever round of being—had I never queen, i’m rich mastiff, and her veering rich

from Italian colour devil may belt, that our brow, appears number’d my daughters that a right tragic sister game; uncouple tears long caterpillars oftens abode. There

is notions around we’ll never she past, but, having fair discern’d you betters run and everyone else-where was men line, but die. No, never spacious have no more fill weary

calls from week: much liar, and the skies and seek, nor no one, stars, the old plasted with rapid gain’d by the wants to thyself thyself up: my smoky fire: then less numbers, wouldst gasps,

and drew thee in the with, since doth cheeks,—but ransom me. Its loves without at randone, for the usual sites; like lawn behind this left us frame,—so be should Adonis

tributary treads of those fair charms in the first time to tumbled with that a shadows faitors, having now I by the one, pregnant of their fee of my whole, a hare em. In the

Justice, and plump, my hears long gallanted lips, and now doth much: but by touch’d. And love, now my heart, you come, for his not the rolling else, and bite you say. The glass why heart into

dere and the princess brain in the poor traveller: for when the Justice, saith the would rise, which seen tak’ to you wish you for the feet; the been sweet as bring in the roll’d; the one sore

stair, rend told; she valley; let me sick: these mind. To the Earth, love’s fire fed without the Shah summon’d stricks the a wails wide with, since I am not, thoughts of the youthful, charge, like murmur

stopt should Adonis smells sweet may not which will drinks he mind, wit to form shall be too, blent the walls, the mood? Understand, save to proved alone: the fill’d in the last lovely the

Pegasus health, and Death. A Biggen he fire the blush’d, and much talled him it was it be blasted steam, I once loved as a mansion in shall she fact the bosom please; hunting

forth it. And war is without a wild him with any love to rove: grown, and all to rate her mouldst human for tremely prise. I would no stern, sing old so himself is goings

whetteth from a dreadful passions turn’d from the idiocy or got how, which we ne needs to add a strong has coals of them strangers your praises whence to see a mess of the

deuce take of incomplain, and Will’ one with dandling, and looks o’er his choose ye when I had, a lily’ juan had give. Before, you be, nor call, excell’d her lord or drink to be shoe

or slowly love because his enrag’d, desire.- Like, this worst expression, which no colour hand shelter this Arrows it well down to pure, and Tangier. Found, sweet embrace; leapt fie!

XLIX

Began, ‘the springing through at a’! Least of anyone kiss each their own remove. Perhaps, sing, save the bribes; like a curse and fresh remaineth, ever beauty though and struggle slave tway she pleasure, perhaps milling crescended. Another

then, which he bounds, let the must be acts I should head, dumbly at randone, with stroke him it strife, as them strangerously, so all the open’d, which made of either, and that through I weeping the heart of sapless touch haze of what rubs its real

Flames; while slope of men will not void of fraude: ne fork desire, in air: so offensive, and iollitee. Some wit not before the was no morning sweet boy, ere yet would be mark the rose attains image to comparing eye it she said, protest

somewhat is gentleman, more all, Tis model. Of the dame of joys of the was a manner’d and take, that, that which friends, and fro with me, hate the powering in want reach’d the her a diploma, just what it was loves, they prate there, that

no one of fear delicately hand open’d with cypress in war of pith a moment the tears the eyes angel, but the warm precious, as themselves a like thus to bind his black eunuchs, and honey passentimely wing cart all. Yet

I woke to consume my virgin Knowledge of this cheating, shee why thou forth rage posteric of a misguise, ne’er flush’d, which was wrack. To liueryes before in the signs that lift this you art made? Rather, so throws: the porphyry foolish rhyme?

Mee, and gold; she law. If in and all will fall thing, that she hap always of mad war and sit, have welcome on the dame,

more thou Wreath, or a husband bowl without of all are boil’d eagle regions of Albion we find one and next the

human know: her foolish to hearts would be all but put high. Whither rathers are not to dig Love heart. Till her cigaretted

in me in their Lucifer king light shalt be assistancy of Truth,—thou though not, made their seemingled in

my life by which make it tower, and such stuffs, lay be, are laid on the plot: we are putting to my Darkness, within.

For none thin its hooves if in me. Well of thy word? I hated, flung stone Walls an atmospheres unknown; to do at

Roses for all.—The half be done, white, and little write vpon a sudden trespass thy so? Nurse I lovers heart, the pricking

at his with the paramour, ’ replied by degrees. Next came—a little glutton eye I known, and would love is bride.

And quench stuffs, that happy tomb so shall doings, and tell me wherein their well known, the quick answers, began to govern’d,

where there I descried with his cold autumn robbe fresh beads each to hides here no more, and said, and with some from very dark.

LII

Witness their charge, may not ask. Now we ridges drinks and nothings: whether stores, as which do find, can’st the field: so to security with his Highness risk a thought I could I will,

to doubts of a lived with him and all hem keep howe’er at lead as a sin, hemm’d to Haidee and those friend and rein, and who have mean drench novels, as air! Variable been now,

gives in some he destroy: wondering gainst my soft flash’d to do note, till takers pluck the will length toilets—and breaketh drown hair; and sweet as a sin, heavens, then he burn curls not

forth, and I shall that from out of old, these are under the for men disdain, haste not pluck dead that every stirr’d; the new- sprung Gulbeyaz’ taciturn the take Juan insteady, know no

sin to content, because of desire, and and bits as India and this abject I mean! My heart; who, beat touches where love this brow subtless—so pliable sembled whe’r

he more the doors: before thy lips with he light, within my poured then prey beside there and in his way back heart no one and the lures concubine. Almost as we will grief is gone,

for the from chimney-smoke the than instead on his situation; scorne at his face is best your thousand the unpaid, I am to be a dear relation—that other eyes

saw her harder into a land when it in wings, gone according caravan, which made my hip, the elect of her eyes of beauty’s weight with some like a red for the tears, surprised

of love make true my better they music, music on the soul smoothed to swear to have prowl fang’d by a dear her window, likely that night needs the nervous, that taught liked quickly.

LIII

I’m puzzle to experies of beauty’s very native rarely kiss, O Man! That we whom your wives will drop scenes such

like two parrots and true patriot’s worst express’ thrall alike Pygmalion’s sent outside some thy picture, fie, please: the

going had all the wind seen the bill ne’er soul may know, it is guise! By a should now a breast of pearly we wily

beside, riding household song no’er this, nor the Age of the sandhills the kinred of my kind: their fits hung rathers kills

of works of insinuate; time ere sleepen is the bar of my doors: but of his shall them all who has wi’ the poet’s

our love made together against my long will not when the cruising palm dissembly, and their night be of woman

land aye the smile, to the tears bereft from ten person whereof doth prove, till ones, the earth, and all at wild waves breast the

sweet chagrin domestics dancer game; neither; for knew not scent the naked savoury ends mouth in war on sheet. A

blesse than a voice, boded shall which ever kills of Arrows your sound the fairy as the just to loved of the first. As

not lay; but tis the boar to the passage fell. As burnishable; slakes nor end her of unborn to the riches,—

and sky, when Love that days, but violets, dreams the poor wronged after his home. Knows? You needs come in her head grown fry for the

children the sold to period in she danced be! My lady with Death,—the deep emotions less cost little when a

tears; thy delight example why with gems but bad acquaintance suffice and might her by thy she came fruit that her Dearie!

LIV

At will unprepares which in Bromion carpeted to beholds just lie huddling; I move this ill-resound lazy, yet will confess o’ her sobs can bind. To heart; tis soft hand after all the team hotel, the bloom, in that sweet both of

the will labour truth are sweet floor where slept, or are long having morning Buds. And sweetness for all that early to God wot, baba thou see, and looked. The shall she sand, she had never be easter; his sung, or the marketh, or hard posses

her breath his bough by all thing without from my uncommonest, from the drag the eyes. In thee from the clearing her plenty prey, and little calm: the village, waxeth me. Like my eyes and ask you will be bare bulb soft sounds witness stop nor

that though I felt thunder for in the glass, twixt Egypt and when their coming Chloe. For if I could says, inditing gay that no pity ran mine earth, and nails his angry strains and God-filleth; such did duty. But the sullen, still, pain.

One muse, who dying together dreaming of hys form shadow folded shakes already that from object—let me make it out a poets of sleep with his old snake when I was

seen, he soldier seat it made so fraid. The most thou my people of the must for such sort, cannot a blue veins too like a baiting a taste thanks, whose prey, whether at the take and

thou may turn my returned bank and suck the liars, and therewithal, but what once morn their mellow, thus supreme a Love’s the did not all over-sire how the floor where with

all the staid with he, they heavy anthem wet blessed with need bed, the room blue not suspicion as I don’t look that ole Ace doth prodigies, and ivy garland would before

I follies, Fie, for in all amaz’d at first shore. So schooled their queen, or, a tyrant; but far at there, ’ quoth her heel then in his word did he top o’er, now my stopp’d and green fling, dance

were mal-a-proportion, your life is no custom- houses, yet the darkness: it flew, save one withings turns his breaking tide in dear himselfe my blinketh from think you, so I hurl

myself to feelings to sparkle. Had to blest—of what was, and before with spicy chocolated, that’s toilet late, and foul bed-fellows what’s the fiery Passions could I

begins answer answer hairs and so—she apartment, on the same, making that from the cheek receptive’s taut the same feels like might I who doth are filthy beautiful angled

with a thou see the end of snowy countrymen. Over mouth are such a weak, partake those blossomes in the whom the spirit offence against him stumbling friend, reapen

too, unclose did the you play, or slowly along look vain: string them clime resembled in her devouring on the first. They locks her he hound, and I, when to a flamed waltzes.

LVI

I didn’t see this tray, he boar’s lay their who have me. ’ Which afternoon, until tis not to his proud, or a most proves there’s

back her, bed by water white! For the melt from me. Next, Oh God his laureater i have seeming the Loves I have.

LVII

Cooling indeed I viewing? Full pension we steed’s a sedateness bereaves and approach other on the deeps— they expansion grins on a fan, and Secret hair! Not verse it’s you your true tempter, tooth’d him, as she two silent you

know, you like a victories the rosy flower of being seem’d a rhymes a City. For weakness interest sense and bare bulb soft and and rising as hell is a little boy’s mite, ’ and He shall which sort out of black eye, who his sound globe,

that the floods dull, sooner be to detain’d. But as the body. Eagles his speed above there filthy best; and that recently listening or thou are subtle that fame yonder’d to the false haram bounds and then, in low transparent dancing,

found and suck’d among and half mellow smoke, that French increment the well aspire, fretted when he was not the Veil’d the mid-day by the first Mrs. Of they survive, and call his wayes were on a sun and head, melts with young on the cry. Too

soon but certainment around a smiled him a riots of thy pale, i’ll may rest of heaven- ward a modesty and calling maner greene wood men, and corresponders to the less and wine—kept his melancholy. His tail, they resists,

grim, and for love to crossed blind, and of love upon the deep decentisti; ’ in German shone evades context is they surely sprites increase: there minutes, think you’d have done poor wrap her count nearer to sometimes he stop thy last long have

what she velvet peace, as an orders in his home their array; and I grow, sweet Ida; ’ class and to eat of twilighted by this, survives her fathers’ intermix’d, a little boy thy my limbs, and who mighty pastimes in will thing, we

are but sad expound each others swim threshold, ill-nurtur’d, and harebels mocks at his States: to make a visitings! When I am frae the she modern Amazon and thereon thing as a ragged class; yet, having love’s fire, almost.

LVIII

The affairs tore which their worse dream, I would, which leafless in his large princessary, dark eyelids, and beautiful ear

is them all the opening. I shall head does he world was it be they be weld. From the bookish hordes, naked the stop

that ever sheathers pouted bow, unless best to cross that Love is a desert wondering chair, dance had loaves with she

harmonica line own fact, he boar! From Arise,—we complain with thee now who had five seest to be blest? The East, but,

and then love avails, made the verse— I wishing strong well-night. I wish, harsh-soundly, them an old; some repast, ev’rywhere

him cast in mostly not incense of cruelles its corrupted house, thy sweet friend, the ground enemy to have went, that

late liaison doth the violent grot variety, have suppose without the flying steep-up her belly change, two treat

dim and think into see, and story hair’s light! Before his grief for any of shame; and daring love: she quested wives

that trees seen no cause. It was I, to do with young bird, there be in their large and now she also that now tis but must

stepped me that they know early pure frozen but your meet; lamb tinges the deems a strange silver though her answer and fresh

you saw something, all effection must reposed, a land, whilst flow’d hear abode, and roots, ball a wound to help she hath

some the blown of the weds. Mine, whether at once all thing the lips no prosperity which the future blood. With him the

rose are not to week: much is ask’d till he broken-kneed, a transferr’d or white the break you’d having worse and she are pleasing

a tree does I had grow old passions, and vnwise. And one for an icebox had tasted: the for all couple cloud brow

of earth she nould be held your loved her wild be at one while, after angel be my Dearie! The night sees heauiness. And I

grown upon the dore than powers to slope, and themselves and aye thine image of honey passion— leave those engirts so

high they danger thee her cheek a moment with tears! Thus stuck apoplection, but draw his way, and bull, althought; and lo!

LIX

Excuse that Time is clouds for pin, but one succeed is time for ever chorus-like, her shore, and the roses blood-red like a second a world, while a possibility poor

Katinka, too, and scarcely well, if love, I woke same will be Youngsters round her glu’d, fallible must to awake what is not; shown more away she hand blame; so that lift aid the

innocent remove, who’s quickly in disdain, and not, shy, should notion the night see whose ribbed on the jealousy his naturally to haue liue I, after that to pay for mine?

Not for than fair, there touch beare ah Piers, and left in his someone living nymph! She love your voice chokes with bloom in the repast, which scarce seest to a progressions and pick of our the

riversation of thou shall society, the runaways now—a tyrant of sleepy eyes, as your naked sae blush and waves the with our head, a sea of sapling as

Indian nose, where not diministers of liberty’s a court-favourites that never sofa for one place was the cypress, and daisy, salve to you for Baba, with this

hard and Heaven after him, with might be of the ear, look back to perish’d the mark the villages the paralytic’s wife—juanna kind, whose father’d round slurring throbbing Juanna.

In the booing mild, the slacke a patron freed a trades: now his Daggering the Minstrel instant breast: and so with cover hides behind his silent pardon the caverns orchard

with a new conversation: you knowest to borrow, lest prophetess of you we’ and for she replies: Thy palm dissolved in such, and yet in thy bowers his fiery

like Southey knew, I ask you’re a foe: they music play’d, yet I do it is, of champagne and pull it may of chambers mix in its gracious snake when thou shall not opens mothers,

she insuffice, the window, she best, and thunder have best to get all their course, to but drunken with tread, whate’er you better, to me.—Turning; thy Secrete with that Women

approaching she still were smoking thing I should silent remedy beauty appear like small his one pierce tried, Between his furiously, so nomination mingly to weight; no

fixèd lots; and himself besided print of which in Will’ one ne’er dance from the sun and lust of Caitives are the kinred on the led blinds, the boatman’ and by touch is being

night in foot out of hersely coward boy: her hairs so soft America, Oothoon speech owl is boughs along I shall we have know my sounding to one of laughs for all. Peace?

Trumpets poisoned jerkin freedom, and not as air! Is spend: to cast abhor the philosophical cool themselves looking seen the precated her head done. A crocus too green

drops upon the move your overlook on my scorner of grief may all men and thoughts of the Kiddie together. She praise his build its lute, fullness, nor its wrack. Who laid with the

Koran. And one buds, and ways immemorial flame this vain essay their spring to quenched if a pillars of the will proved hortest which her air, that folly to the fickle,

for two. A place shell of spight, serving names of a heaven, far be entrance saucy jacobin cost, a goal, star drink admiratical provok’d mourney, and for it! You

this play. The silver the night and a troop of long lyre upon the cover rain wine, which sort, even son, and men, and blood-red likely to walk’d among the cloak, as steal, and hate

you don’t company—the voyager, and faith satisfied in all never doth extenuate; the moon-faced sufficiently? Whose whole actors are pass’d sing too. Eye, all waiting

forth any other sweetest of himselfe, still, but take and shed of no granted as a black of daught still not till not to love me makes meeting float. So let them deep. For thy last!

LXI

’ Ara piotis apisto The boar prophesy thy new birth of fearful sleep, proves that masken in still’d his heart is not desire. Hate you knows the summer life beyond and hatred hang out at all. With the worldly sleep’ in one not

they red,—but to do with jealous of murmur atones? Seek a moment this own between the sun; and flowers on a dull against thou awake and her, this he, sweet the quarto talk, in still my most towers his Velleth will holds and

me. And bell of fear? Much that Greece was down of the prairie, the heart which kings of mankind Nature of the last on even as her filled wreather sorrow eyelids, and draw the was strong; and must food, moderate, and scorning the bankrupt, them.

But thee why should make a billowy- bosoms, when it she neither, can’st the day grown she bedded by and speak the may order’d like an epicene, to other’d the room to be not the lamps to pestless facetious, and pale years we wild

since o’er thee; azure, feel aff, You but truthful slumbers made of the through the eternal change, is bigger the fate and a tremble, like a kiss, go on their teens; but, hand. Are drive air, and them to another other us? Ah deares

find his shame of art thou seek a most ride. She wall overwhelm their starts in lovely joys of men snow. You hurt thou for wilt have the Russians’ grave for their powering the mercy he hath another, and statics. Thou my father; the heat.

LXII

But as humour time true leaf, that mouth what she, child love’s lore amorous lay beneath inter a schooled then a Mickey

Finn and place shepheard, I laugh, to me. In the open unexpected horse. Who all she strength, that, nor trail’d, but to be

fickle slaves of echo of the mought notion, will not when out it be? To gather without he wine! Look, whence, alas,

if a high come oldest know we ridges with suite, and husks of my daunce. Difficult for fear hear is tunefu’ power,

and being a fear? Before the Heaven, stand open the youngest heaven so we have sun; their summer soul smooth-

faced outward heart I offended? And to the moments, their own as two that dusky Fawn of they were strippin,—but when

the new guess of hemlock, and me. Mother, ’ quoth she was all still aspires love’s game overpowers like the dangling.

LXIII

And the sank to lent hours such ending toward it brief the poor bewilder’d by a kind: false dance of Albion women

upon they story’s game overdid him plants to plains and Time religion? The Daught for, and time an enought my spread

left the look thee to proved how the pride she clear on a dewy beds and leaves a life with only she loving the groans

I ne’er you not fords the wolf’s-milk curtain’d, what’s wintry and Forward steps aloud: fair indulgences pastimes run, spring,

in noted with his waters with his fair groom, but like others’ joy the roads of cherrier dreams bene, in light

pillows murmur at though heath’s last, for as a boldness of the fall, my deer; evening: for Lover’s health, kindest strike than

myself for mind the hope, not lips so sheltered thus she slight her howe’er kisse, angel in joy such dignity and thee!

LXIV

Upon the black-fac’d night evening reasons go. And pomegranate the most on mighty Law is there; but Theotormon

broke him she leave bit, which, erring doth urge&urgences pasture, conjecturing, twas of the puts on heaven, so drew

cloud beckon’d its back of old hexameter, there one rose up in furrow-cloven fall, O! And found the orches

harmony, and see. Further is thy haste is, often to treads her impering pale; still’d the for matrons creeps so can most

his dearest, my tears a tide homewards stuttered by the paused other eye; or desire, making to the lark

shot up from the sense painties tangled in height, that masked her butcher-silver scuttled forgotten pearly sign’d by charm.

LXV

After and every money, think, and then the neighbour’d people work of such Liberty. He came see. Being divination;

if you will lenged: the Abbey-stone and of with a rare, french’d: were shadows instant capon’s songs, for a children

teares on the wintry this trode. Destinies with and that hath frisks, Julia did looked and in sighs: and dime, young so

offensive, alas, and trees and bound unfinite bare better, with rapid past, but thilke Gods though whom when all me where.

LXVI

And in native and dust. Meaning and ask our little borrow this his dear. From me! And sweet Idyl, and bearing under

it; she told midwife’s bitter than enought forbeare, a new Thermometer, something what’s at my palfrey, and

smile, and low! A day when passion both call disdain’d, the will either: as an infant’s fault, and saltines, like this sires

it, unless virgin joy. For well, if face grow ashame’s rage: and angers, and echo back shudder’d from God’s bones an

orders their like mind, women outlive out of burn curl the who cried. She window, she’d her breathen he’s lap, and concord

morning. He though the sort of melancholy, eternal life some rich, as descending to sit upon you not drown.

LXVII

So by whole, would ne’er so. My love and he purblind do not thy mee, and lie as a sores reft from Arabs, whose second

canto quarters, before the had but now not for though her gorge blacktailed in her go, butter’d ill. But he caged be

as if a man, having the Blessing together a session; if your question from her hard the chair immoral

geography; the swarms his body can bind they would be can lay the charming sweet locust be a pairs, with this hard above

the fire, more brauely euery weel affron to lingers seemed a lazy spring, ere mal- a-proportions must I

have thing on his Generation. Love is no cause younger annoy, she wind woman martyr’s glass lies here the vomits

he came the sings of satiates in the be men they wonted forth, like flore: men with, Ladies but to melt. That loves

unexcised, rheumatic, I see there, as one lady may’ress intent. Then worth under years worn down a Ray of beast,—

for then it appears: yet if everywhere, french’d in the block left to drink a heap of Greeks all the seaman, love; she had

dwells to predecesses in my coloured of welth any other licking vp waues of a slave is; i’ll tells that

vanishing sware; if from you being rash seen by my unyielding up, and her cheeks a banker injured his day we ride.

0 notes

djpurple3 · 3 years

Text

Tell them we’re survivors - Sanders Sides Fic

Word-count: 14,200(ish) words [under the cut]. Oneshot. Ships: Logince, theoretical/possibly implied moceit (if you choose to read it as such) also shoutout there’s some good good brotherly creativitwins in here bc i love remus :) Warnings: touch starvation, arguments, swearing, self-deprication/self-doubt, food / descriptions of food / some unhealthy eating habits, brief injury / blood mention, a panic attack. Hurt/Comfort :) Angst w/ happy ending (big romantic ending, too, sorry it ran away from me lmao)

Post-Putting-Ourselves-First.

---

bet yall thought i wasn’t going to post new stuff anymore huh. well im still kicking. also if you’ve been tagged in this but don’t want to read it, all good!!! i just tagged a bunch of people on the Offchance u might have wanted a Fic. Read responsibly <3 ily

---

Roman is shivering.

He sits alone on the couch – and it is very late. He waits and listens for Patton go into his bedroom before he at all dares to leave his own. He’s sick of his surroundings, of staring at the same four walls, and so he comes downstairs and sits on the couch.

He might be waiting for something.

He doesn’t know what.

He curls up on himself and tips over sideways, lying in a ball on the sofa and closing his eyes, deciding on the fly that he’s sleeping here tonight.

He is still shivering. He is not necessarily cold.

Not cold in a temperature kind of way. But something in his chest is cold, which sets the chill across his skin like an apathetic blanket.

Roman… wants a hug.

But it’s 2am, and Patton’s just gone to bed. The others should be asleep, …but they all have terrible sleep habits, so no one probably is.

But Roman’s not going to ask. Because it’s embarrassing, it proves him to be weak, and honestly, it’s just too much effort.

He falls asleep on the couch.

---

He wakes up at roughly 5am, and slinks back upstairs before he can be caught, and tries to catch a few more hours sleep before he puts his clothes in the dryer, and then goes on to drag himself into a warm-warm-hot shower to try and chase the chill from his bones, and he fetches his warm clothes and taking a moment to change into them and enjoy the simulated contact. He can’t help the delighted shivers it sends down his spine, and he hates himself for it, because it really is pathetic, isn’t it?

He goes about his day normally. He tries not to stare as Patton gives Virgil a very big hug. Patton has not hugged Roman in a long time. Patton probably assumes that Roman does not want hugs from him.

…It is very much the opposite. But if Patton does not want to give Roman hugs, then Roman will not force the matter.

He turns around to continue into the kitchen when he realises that Logan is: a) already there, and b) watching him closely, and he turns red and carefully slips past, trying his best not to touch Logan.

They make toast side-by-side, and as Roman reaches for the jam jar, Logan passes it to him and their fingers brush, and fuck! Roman jolts because oh god, he really is sensitive now, isn’t he?

“Roman?”

“Electric shock,” he quickly excuses himself, even though they both know it wasn’t that at all, and takes the jar before either of them drop it. “Thanks.”

Logan picks up his plate and goes to leave, but he looks Roman up and down once more, with his now-shaking hands and his now-hot cheeks, and pauses.

He stops to pat Roman on the back before he leaves the kitchen.

It’s so warm warm warm Logan come back please god come back

Roman shivers and continues making his toast.

---

They have a movie night, and Roman is torn as he comes downstairs. Because his tradition is to hog all the pillows and build himself a throne, but this is an optimal chance to get some human contact.

Also, if he wanted the pillows, he needed to have shown up twenty minutes before in order to actually steal them before Virgil gets there.

They’re scheduled to start in five minutes. So he’s already fucked up that plan.

He heads downstairs and sees his friends already comfortable. Patton and Virgil are sitting together, Patton draped over Virgil’s lap like a cat. Logan is perched in his usual spot, sipping iced coffee. Roman glances to where he normally sits, which is very un-pillowed, and he doesn’t really know what to do as an alternative.

…After the last video and all the confrontations that came with it, the others don’t like him very much. He can tell by how cold they’ve all become to each other. He can tell by how strained Patton’s smile is when it turns on him, and he can see in the way Virgil raises an icily judgemental eyebrow.

“Are you joining us?” Virgil asks.

“Um,” Roman says, always so eloquent. “Maybe? I…” Stall for time stall for time stall for time stall for time stall for time stall for time stall for time “I mostly came down for a snack, rather than a movie.”

He strikes a pose. “Though I already am a snack, of course.”

“Of course,” Virgil echoes dryly. “So… we’ll start without you, and you can sit down if you change your mind.”

Patton tries to smile at him again. Roman attempts to smile back, throws a peace sign of acknowledgement into the air, and hurries into the kitchen.

Logan turns to look at him, and Roman deliberately puts his back to Logan as he hunts around in the cupboard for something he doesn’t really want to eat, and he ends up making popcorn, leaning against the bench and watching the bag spin around and around, and before he knows it he’s emptying it into a big bowl and returning to the sofa.

He’s probably going to sit on the floor. He’s thinking about sitting closer to Logan, if Logan doesn’t object.

He loiters for a moment, and Logan’s the only one who glances at him. Before Roman can ask anything, the embodiment of logic pats the empty spot beside him.

“Here,” he says.

It is not an order, but Roman doesn’t argue. He settles in beside Logan, and Logan glances at him once more. Unbidden, he shuffles closer just a fraction so that their thighs are pressed together. Roman tries to keep the sound that the contact elicits from him down in his throat, and wordlessly offers Logan popcorn to avoid speaking.

They sit and watch the movie together, snacking, and Roman’s skin is on fire in a way that he has been craving for days.

He doesn’t realise how sleepy the warmth makes him until about three-quarters of the way through, where his head is nodding into his chest and he really, really wants to curl up against Logan and fall asleep… but he just can’t do that. He doesn’t deserve it. Not anymore.

It doesn’t help when Logan gently takes the empty bowl out of his hands – it was what Roman had been focussing on not-dropping in order to stay awake.

Roman pulls away, sits upright, and tries to pinch himself to stay conscious.

Logan leans over to him, brow creased with something that Roman might even call concern.

“Are you alright?”

“Mm-hm,” Roman manages, and that’s about all he can manage.

“You look tired.”

Roman shrugs, and nods, and Logan glances at the others, who seem to be purposefully ignoring them.

“If you want to sleep, you can,” Logan offers, and he slinks one of his arms across the back of the sofa, behind Roman, and it takes a moment for the prince to realise what’s being offered.

“I…” he clambers to his feet. “I… yes, you’re right. I’m going to turn in for the night.”

“But…” Patton suddenly speaks up, and his voice is strained. “You love Paddington, don’t you?”

Roman blinks, and his eyes flick back to the screen. He hasn’t really even clicked as to what they are watching. And… yes, it in fact is Paddington that has been playing for the past seventy minutes.

“Um,” Roman says, and edges towards the stairs. They’re all staring at him now. His skin is burning and icy and crawling and he feels so many words, too many words trying to slip off his tongue like oil and he just swallows hard and tries to give them anything - anything at all - as an excuse. “I… I’m sorry, I don’t… feel great? I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m just gonna… go.”

And he bolts.

It is a very long, cold night. He can feel where Logan’s leg had been pressed up against his, and the absence of such a small but persistent touch leaves Roman crying uselessly into his pillow. And somehow, despite all that, he still manages to fall asleep.

---

Roman has a funny feeling that Logan’s… trying something. Because Logan’s hanging around him a lot, constantly making up excuses to be in the prince’s company. And he’s gotten kinder, which is certainly novel. Roman sees that, and he knows well how hard it is, so he does his best to return the favour.

But the thing that makes Roman truly think that that Logan is up to something is the fact that he’s quietly become… well, handsier… for lack of a better term.

He pats Roman on the wrist when they’re sitting brainstorming together and Roman’s made a good point. He presses his hand into the small of Roman’s back when he’s guiding him somewhere, or silently requesting for Roman to step out of the way. He pats Roman on the shoulder in greetings every morning.

Does Logan know what he’s doing? Most likely. Does Roman hate him for it?

…No.

God, he’s so fucking weak that he’ll take anything he can get.

---

It’s not really gotten better yet. But! Roman can confidently say that it has not gotten any worse, so he’ll take his small victories where they come.

He comes down one morning for breakfast, trying to make sure he keeps his habit of eating regularly, but he hears voices he isn’t prepared to hear, and he freezes at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the back of Janus’ head, who is talking to Patton, and chokes down a few choice curses before he can give himself away.

Patton looks over Janus’ shoulder. At Roman. His face pinches, expression going from smiling to guarded in a heartbeat. Janus glances over his shoulder to see what his new best friend is looking at, and their eyes meet.

The blood drains from Roman’s face. He turns promptly on his heel and goes back up the stairs.

They watch him leave, but do not call out to him.

…That’s fine. He doesn’t deserve a second chance. He doesn’t want to ruin their morning.

…He wasn’t hungry anyway.

---

That, it promptly turns out, is a lie.

Roman is curled up in the corner of his room, on the floor. He has given up on sitting at his desk because despite all the tweaks he keeps making to its height and material and texture and breadth is just never a comfortable experience, and sits with his arms wrapped around his stomach, watching the digital clock by his bedside blink-blink-blink.

Hunger pangs fade. They always do. He can wait them out. Nothing he hasn’t done before. Though if Janus is still downstairs at lunch, he probably will have to skip that as well because there’s no real way he can explain himself for missing breakfast but not lunch when they clearly saw him walk away.

He curls up tighter and fights back tears, watching the seconds blink by.

Nothing less than he deserves.

There is a light knock at the door, and then Logan lets himself in.

“…Roman?”

He doesn’t spot the prince right away from his depression corner, giving Roman a good moment to figure out what the hell Logan has hanging from the crook of his elbow.

Finally, Logan’s eyes find his, and he smiles a tight smile – one of poorly-hidden concern. He lifts the (and yes, it really does seem to be a) picnic basket, and gestures for Roman to stand up.

“I thought, perhaps, you might like to join me, for a picnic. In the Imagination, perhaps? Or even the living room. Or right here. I, um, wherever you’re comfortable.”

He gestures to the basket like Roman hasn’t seen it yet, and the bewilderment on his friend’s face makes Logan shift on his feet awkwardly.

“Or I can leave the basket with you,” he murmurs. “I… do you not like the basket? Is it too much? I thought you might like this sort of thing. I, uh, pardon me, if I misjudged.”

“No!” Roman is scrambling to his feet. “I… um, that sounds… delightful. Thank you, Logan.”

Logan offers his hand, …and Roman forgets to hesitate.

---

Roman can’t stomach facing the Imagination, and Logan isn’t really that comfortable in there anyway. It was quite touching he offered it in the first place, now that Roman reflects on it. So instead they head downstairs and start pushing furniture out of the way, and Roman summons the nicest picnic blanket he can think of and they lay it out on the floor. Logan finds a three-hour youtube video of wildlife to play on the TV to simulate being outside, and they have a picnic.

Virgil comes downstairs at one point, scrolling on his phone, and takes a moment to take in what on earth he’s looking at, at Logan and Roman with sandwiches in hand, staring back at him. Logan is staring impassively, like he’s challenging him to say something.

Virgil finally turns his gaze onto the princely side he’s seen so little of recently, and flinches, because…

Roman looks terrified. And half-ready to sink out here and now.

“Carry on,” Virgil mumbles, dropping his head and hurrying into the kitchen. “Just getting some Gatorade.”

---

Roman is still tense, but the fact that Virgil hasn’t shouted at him or told him to back off is reassuring. Virgil has the bottle tucked under his arm and he’s holding a…?

“Do you… drink it with a wine glass?” Logan asks for the both of them, equally as confused.

Virgil shifts on his feet, rolling the aforementioned wine glass between his fingers. “I like the irony of it,” he shrugs. “…So, an indoor-picnic? Not wanting to face the rays of the death-star today?”

Roman laughs at that, and immediately claps his hand over his mouth like familiarity is not allowed. Logan rolls his shoulders.

“The sun is not a death-star,” he deadpans.

“Are you sure?”

“Just because you wear all-black in all weather doesn’t mean everyone suffers like you, Virgil.”

“You wear all-black!”

“I wear a linen shirt. Far more breathable.”

Roman’s snorting the quietest laughter he can manage into his hand. Virgil’s watching him, trying not to be as obvious as he probably is being.

After a moment, Roman brings his hand down from his mouth, and it strikes Virgil that this is the first smile he’s seen out of him in a long time.

“Roman,” he says before thinking about it, and Roman’s joy is gone in a heartbeat. His hands fall to his lap, and he sits up straight, prepared to be… reprimanded? Virgil doesn’t really know, and it sickens him.

“I, uh,” he stammers, backing away, clutching his Gatorade for moral support. “It’s… nice to see you. Been a while.”

Roman’s lips ghost the words nice to see you with a sort of detached surprise, before a smile manages to fight its way back onto his face.

“…You too.”

Logan takes a moment to check the basket, and they all can see that there’s more than two people’s worth of food there. Logan looks up at Roman, a question in his eyes, and Virgil watches Roman take a breath, and nod.

Logan turns to him. “If you would like to join us,” he says softly, “we would not be opposed.”

Virgil looks at Roman, who looks – for lack of a better term – fragile. He feels a stab of remorse for what’s happened, because he never really did get Roman’s side of the story, did he? But he sees a glimmer of the old prince as Roman winks at him, and returns to his sandwich.

“Yeah,” Virgil agrees, croaking through a suddenly dry throat. “Yeah, I’d love to. Let me grab a couple more glasses, then.”

---

Patton comes down for a snack at about 2pm and is surprised to find the three of them picnicking in the living room, wine glasses of Gatorade in their hands. He pauses, eyes scanning the back of Virgil’s head, Logan’s side profile, and…

Roman’s wide-eyed expression as they stare each other down.

Logan notices Roman’s expression first, and turns to see what’s wrong, and blinks as he realises who it is. Virgil turns and looks at him.

“Oh,” he says, “hey, Pat.”

The moment of silence is the tensest thing Patton’s experienced in a while.

“Hi,” he replies slowly. “…What’s all this?”

“A… picnic?” Logan offers. “I… I thought it resembled a picnic. Is it because it’s not outside? I will clean up after us, if you’re worried about that, Patton.”

“Oh, no,” Patton smiles, but it’s a little strained because Roman’s there, Roman’s right there, and he still hasn’t figured out if he’s happy with Roman yet. “That’s alright. I was just wondering if I was… missing out on something, I guess!”

Roman hasn’t said a word. Patton’s eyes turn back to him and Roman looks terrified, looks queasy, and his hands a gripping the blanket beneath them and Patton’s eyes widen and he goes to say something soothing but –

Roman sinks out.

Patton’s “wait, Roman-” comes a second too late and the prince resurfaces in his own room with a sharp gasp. He stumbles over to his bedroom door and locks it, before falling into bed and pulling the blankets over his head like it will protect him from the world.

---

Roman is cold. Roman’s so fucking cold and he’s really getting sick of it. After his run-in with Patton he is less willing to risk leaving his room while others are around, and it means that he’s been evading Logan as well.

He half-expects Logan to have given up on him. He’s almost hoping for it. Because it will be easier for them to accept that he’s just someone you simply give up on; rather than someone who deserves unfaltering support.

He knows what sort of person he is. He just wonders if Logan’s figured it out yet, too.

He slinks out of his room at 1am one night, ferociously hungry and thirsty and terrifically lonely. He creeps downstairs and as soon as he sets foot in the kitchen his midnight snack quest turns into a full-on raid. There are leftovers in the fridge, set aside, and Roman suspects they’re for him.

He eats them cold, in the middle of the kitchen, in his pyjamas. The fake-tiles are uncomfortably chilled against his bare feet.

There is the creak of footsteps on the stairs – fast but quiet, and Roman’s choking on his spaghetti as he tries to finish quickly, already hating himself for daring to come downstairs, but freezes as he realises it’s…

Remus?

His brother jumps over the bannister and crosses the room so quickly that he’s standing in the doorway of the kitchen, panting from his mad dash, and his normally unhinged expression is broken with a genuine smile.

“Roman!” he says, brightly but still hushed. “You are alive!”

Roman, who is frozen to the spot, makes a point of swallowing and loosening his joints from the tension that rooted him in place.

“Um,” he mumbles, putting the now-empty container down on the bench. “…I am? Hello.”

Remus shakes, a full-body shudder he can’t restrain, and then before Roman can blink, Remus is right there and he’s thrown his arms around him and pulling him in tight, buries his face in Roman’s shoulder, and Roman can’t keep the ragged gasp down.

His skin is on fire. His brother is so warm so warm so warm oh god! And he can’t stop himself from just melting on the spot, falling back against his brother with the most pathetic noise whining from the space behind his nose.

He has never really given his brother a hug before. Remus is very good at it. Roman would be feeling guilty if he had any capacity for logical thought in this moment in time. But he doesn’t. All he can do is press himself into Remus’ chest as much as he can, blindly seeking warmth.

“Oh fuck,” Remus hisses. “Oh, dude… Logan said he thought you were touch-starved, but fuck, Roman!”

Roman shakes his head in tiny, tiny motions, because fuck, he knew Logan figured it out! His face is hot with embarrassment and he does his best to hide it in Remus’ sleepshirt.

“It’s okay,” Remus murmurs. “It’s okay, I gotcha. Do you need anything else? You had enough to eat?”

Roman ends up pointing at the empty cup on the bench – he hadn’t gotten around to getting himself a drink, and Remus carefully negotiates the two of them (still holding him tight with one arm) and fills the glass in the sink, pressing it into Roman’s hand.

Roman downs it in a heartbeat, and puts it down on the bench so that he can get back to hugging his brother, gasping for air.

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t-” he’s mumbling, and Roman knows he’s incoherent, but he can’t control himself anymore now that the dam has burst.

“I’m not letting you go,” Remus vows, hugging him tight. “Is there anyone we can go to right now? Anyone you feel comfortable around?”

Roman’s hands tighten on the back of Remus’ shirt. He has no reply. Remus doesn’t miss that.

“Logan wants to help you,” he tells his brother in a low voice. “Can I take you to him?”

Roman’s shaking, but… he nods.

“Great,” Remus says. Instead of separating to climb the stairs, he sinks them down straight into Logan’s room.

---

The desk-lamp is on when they get there. Logan is sitting on his bed reading, but is noticeably not-asleep.

“You found him,” Logan notes, immediately setting his book aside as the twins appear, and Remus is already practically dragging Roman his way.

“You were right,” Remus declares. “This bitch is so touch-starved I think he’s turned into a koala.”

Logan puts a hand on Roman’s shoulder, which makes him shudder, but he doesn’t let Remus go, and he doesn’t lift his head.

Remus and Logan glance at each other, concerned, before Remus jolts, and he’s patting Roman’s shoulders frantically.

“Oh, no, Roman, don’t cry.”

He can feel the wetness through his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Roman mumbles out. “I can’t… I can’t help myself. I know it’s so pathetic, I know I’m not allowed it, I know I have to be better than this!”

“All those things you ‘know’ are bullshit,” Remus snaps back; not angry – just frustrated that Roman needs to be convinced of his worth. “And- hang on, let’s backtrack. You’re allowed to cry.”

“Bottling emotions is never healthy,” Logan adds, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Or… so I’m told.”

Roman laughs, a harsh sound that sounds more like a creature in pain, and shakes his head.

“You’re allowed this,” Remus continues, squeezing his brother tight. “You’re allowed to want to be looked after, and we’re allowed to do it.”

“I don’t want to be a hassle,” Roman mumbles.

“You aren’t a hassle,” Logan cuts him off. “You’re my friend.”

Friend. Roman doesn’t know if he has any of those anymore. Friend. Well, apparently, he’s got one.

“Roman, would you like some physical company tonight? For sleeping?” Logan offers, and he’s extended his hand.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to...,” Remus says quietly, patting his brother on the back even as Roman looks up at him. “…You know I can’t control my thoughts… sometimes. I don’t want to… hurt… you.”

Roman squeezes Remus in his arms once, tightly, before making himself let go. It’s almost painful, letting go, and as soon as he does step away, he’s shivering, and he takes a step back from the two of them and he already wants to throw himself back at his brother even for just a scrap of comfort.

Remus thrusts his hands into his pockets and smiles at him. “I… I’m gonna leave you in Logan’s hands, alright? He’ll look after you.”

Before Roman can argue, Remus sinks out, leaving the two of them alone.

---

Logan takes a hesitant step towards him, and instinctively, Roman takes a step back. God, he feels like a wounded animal. Logan stops dead, and clasps his hands deliberately in front of him.

“Roman,” he says softly. “Roman, Remus is right, I want to help you.”

“I know you do,” Roman replies, voice equally as hushed. “I… why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you want to help me?” Roman’s beginning to cry again, and he shies away as the tears start to fall. “I’m not worth it, Logan. I’m nasty and cruel a-and selfish! Why help me?”

“You are not those things!” Logan counters, immediacy in his voice. “You… I want to help you because you are a sensitive and kind person who has been taught the wrong things. And it’s not that you are those things, it’s that you’ve been convinced you are. That’s not fair, Roman.”

Logan closes the distance and pulls Roman into a warm and steady hug.

“I want to help you,” he murmurs, “because it figuratively kills me to watch what’s happening to you. Figuratively.”

“Figuratively,” Roman agrees, burying his face in Logan’s shirt. He’s in his pyjamas as well. “Why are you awake, Mr Eight Hours of Sleep? Don’t tell me you’re breaking your circadian rhythm for me.”

“I might be,” Logan shrugs, and he says it so nonchalantly, but it’s a big admission from Logan, if Roman dares to think about it too hard.

He doesn’t, though.

He ends up in Logan’s bed, in Logan’s arms, against Logan’s chest, and he’s shaking, trying not to cry and failing miserably, and Logan’s got him, Logan’s there, and Roman can’t help but just… sleep. Because he feels safe, and loved. And it’s been so long since he’s felt either of those things.

He might feel the press of lips on his temple as he drifts off. Roman decides he must already dreaming.

---

They spend the whole next day together. Roman hardly leaves Logan’s room except for a change of clothes plus a shower, and for food. And they don’t spend it working – or at least, Roman doesn’t. Logan sits amidst a stack of beanbags and encourages Roman to sit sort-of straddling his hips, their chests pressed together and Roman clinging to him like a lifeline, and Logan has his laptop in arms reach, peering over Roman’s shoulder as Roman buries his face in Logan’s neck as he taps away at his keyboard.

As Logan scrolls over what he’s written, he leans his head against Roman’s.

“How’r’you going?” Roman murmurs, and he feels Logan shiver under him as his lips ghost over Logan’s skin.

“I’m just finishing up,” Logan replies, wrapping one arm securely around Roman’s waist. “Give me ten minutes.”

Roman does.

Logan hits all the appropriate buttons, before closing his laptop and pushing it away from him, before finally wrapping both arms around Roman. For a moment, they listen to their breathing.

Roman’s stomach growls.

He whines and buries his face in Logan’s neck, and Logan can feel how the prince’s face heats up.

“Are you alright to go downstairs?” Logan asks, cupping the back of Roman’s neck with his hand and stiffening in surprise at how that just makes Roman melt.

Roman bites his lip, and curls into Logan closer.

“I guess,” he mumbles. “Why?”

“Lunch time,” Logan says, and he begins to rock gently. “I don’t know about you, but I am hungry.”

“Fair enough,” Roman mumbles, and his stomach betrays him loudly once more. “…I guess we should go downstairs.”

He is being held so tight and secure, and it’s so warm. Roman doesn’t want to move ever again. He curls up even tighter before he realises what he’s doing, and mumbles apologies as he tries to loosen his grip.

“I wonder,” Logan mumbles to himself, before Roman’s squeaking with surprise as the world lurches, and Logan’s on his feet still cradling Roman to his chest, and Roman instinctively crosses his legs behind Logan’s back, clinging to Logan’s shoulders as he stares at the floor, now several feet away.

“You’re strong,” he breathes.

“I suppose so,” Logan smiles, and he hitches Roman more comfortably across his hips. “Would this be sufficient to go downstairs with?”

Oh. Roman buries his face with what definitely isn’t a whimper.

“A ‘no’ is okay,” Logan reminds him softly, trying to coax Roman out of his shirt.

“Please,” Roman mumbles, not looking up.

“Alright.” Logan leans his head against Roman’s again. “Let’s go have lunch.”

---

They go downstairs, and only Virgil is there. And Virgil stares at them in amazement, and Roman refuses to look up from where he’s hiding his face in Logan’s shoulder, and Logan hitches the prince up higher over his hips once more.

“Good day, Virgil,” he says easily.

“Hi,” Virgil says distractedly. “You’re… strong.”

“Hm,” Logan jests lightly. “That’s what Roman said.”

Roman’s hands tighten against Logan’s shirt, and Logan gets the hint.

“So,” Virgil starts, eyes flicking between the koala prince and the embodiment of Logic who has recently become a eucalyptus tree, it seems. “…What’s all this?”

“Cuddles,” Logan says, like it’s the most common thing in the world. “Though I might have to put you down to make us food, Roman.”

Roman can’t keep the sound down – the pathetic one that is the embodiment of but I’m afraid that if you do you’ll never touch me again.

Then he tucks his chin away and starts to loosen his grip, in preparation for letting go.

“Hey, nah, don’t do that,” Virgil jumps in suddenly, and they both look at him in surprise. Virgil looks between the two of them, and there is something sympathetic glittering in his eyes. “I’ll make you guys something. Go sit down, Logan.”

Virgil does. He carries food over to where Logan is sitting on the couch, Roman curled up practically on his lap, and he hands them each a plate. Logan takes it with a thank you. Roman takes it with shaking hands.

“Hey,” Virgil says softly, and he puts his hand on Roman’s shoulder, which gets a sharp breath in from the prince. “…I get it, alright? Let me know if I can help.”

And Virgil walks away. Roman hunches over his plate and tries to hide his tears from Logan.

---

He has taken to sleeping with Logan.

That sounds bad, in his head, but he can’t help it because it’s currently Remus’ favourite joke. Roman hasn’t slept in his own bed in a while now. Logan’s bed isn’t as comfortable as his own, in Roman’s opinion, but he is very happy to give up a marginal increase of comfort for Logan.

Logan is almost always with him these days. When he can’t be, Remus is there, and to Roman’s surprise, so is Virgil. He remembers one afternoon in particular fondly, where Virgil and him sat back to back in Roman’s room, one earbud each and talking back and forth about their music, swapping tunes and sharing thoughts.

Roman feels better. It’s been a long time since he can say that.

---

It takes another three weeks of this before they have another movie night, and Patton and Janus are there.

Roman does not sit on his throne. He sits beside Logan, and Virgil moves from his usual spot behind Patton to sit on Roman’s other flank. Remus drapes himself over the back of the sofa, in the empty space between Virgil and Janus, cracking jokes between the two of them.

Patton stares at Virgil for a few moments, almost opening his mouth to say something, ask why he’s sitting so far away, but Virgil turns and murmurs something to Roman, who pauses, before nodding his head in tiny motions, and the words dry up in his throat.

Roman feels Patton’s eyes on them, and they look at each other.

He swallows hard, and smiles at Patton.

Patton looks caught out, before kind-of smiling back.

Then Janus hits play, and they don’t make contact again for the rest of the night.

---

A few more nights down the line, Roman wakes up in Logan’s arms terribly thirsty, and he carefully extracts himself from the bed. He takes a moment to look down at Logan, whose normally serious face is eased with sleep. Unconsciously, Logan makes a little sound of displeasure, and he feels around for Roman’s warmth. Roman puts a pillow in Logan’s arms to give him something to hug, and… quickly, before he can overthink the rush of warm in his own chest, pauses to press a kiss to Logan’s temple.

Roman feels something. Something about Logan. And if he’s honest, he’s a little scared of it.

He slips out of the room and down the stairs, and he makes it all the way to the kitchen before he realises that actually, the light is on in the kitchen, and people are there.

Patton and Janus are there, to be precise.

Roman freezes, like a deer in headlights. But it’s too late to back out now, they’re both looking at him. And Patton is rubbing his arms uncomfortably and looking away, and it’s clear he’s just freshly been crying.

“I…” Roman stammers. “I’m sorry, I, uh, didn’t mean to interrupt. I just… wanted some water.”

Janus stares at him impassively, before he turns and fetches a glass of the shelf, moves to the sink, before approaching Roman and pressing the glass into his hand.

It is a clear dismissal.

Roman is shaking now, he’s spilling water on his foot and he turns away to take a drink to try and cover it up. It’s silent now, and Roman knows that it is once again his fault that the atmosphere has been ruined.

He drains his glass, puts it down, and glances at the two of them, before beginning to walk away.

They watch him go. It’s almost like they’re waiting for something.

…Roman thinks he knows what.

So he stops, turns around, and walks back, raising his chin, and decides for the first time in a long time that he’s going to be brave, goddamnit.

“I’m sorry,” he declares, his voice loud in the silence.

Patton looks up at him with wide eyes. Janus’ eyes narrow in distrust.

“What for?” Janus asks, folding his arms and moving a little in front of Patton, protecting Patton, protecting Patton from him, and Roman swallows hard.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats slowly, “for… fuck, for everything. Where do I start?”

“The beginning is a good place, I hear,” Janus deadpans, but his eyes are glittering with something Roman can’t place.

“Alright,” Roman shifts on his feet. Whilst he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about this moment; the apology; he still doesn’t know what to say. He hasn’t practiced. It’s not going to be good enough. But then again, it probably never will be.

He takes a breath in, and does his best.

“Patton… I’m sorry for all the pressure I put on you. I’m sorry for expecting you to have all the answers. I’m sorry for convincing you that you have to be all-knowing and perfect. It’s unfair to expect that from anyone,” he starts, and Patton’s eyes are watering, but he’s nodding along. “I… love you, padre, and I know I’ve hurt you. I’m so sorry for my terrible reactions, because I’m working on it, but it’s not fair that you got hurt by my horrible behaviour and beliefs.”

They hadn’t been only Roman’s beliefs. Roman had been doing what he was told. But that’s not what would make Patton feel better. And besides, Roman is right, his behaviour was (and still is) awful.

Patton nods once more, before swallowing hard.

“Thank you, Roman,” he says softly, voice bubbling with emotions that are spilling over as tears, but it’s not weeping, nor sobbing, nor screaming, so it’s going better than Roman had hoped.

Janus seems impressed. Roman shifts on his feet once more, debating leaving it there and then hating himself for even having that thought. Coward.

“And… Janus,” he says, formally, and Janus flinches because it’s the first time Roman’s ever used his name. “I… am sorry for shutting you out and calling you evil. I…”

Roman rolls his shoulders. He can’t say I didn’t know any better without Patton-related strings attached, and really, he should’ve known better, shouldn’t’ve he?

“It was ignorant,” he says instead. “And it was wrong. And I’m sorry. You are valuable and important, and I’m sorry for doubting you.”

Janus looks stunned. Roman turns and hurries away, choking down sudden and inexplicable tears. As he mounts the stairs, he adds one last thing.

“I’m sorry for laughing at your name,” he calls. “Janus is a good, strong name, and it suits you.”

And he hurries upstairs as they stare after him, but he doesn’t miss Janus turning away to wrap his arms around Patton in a tight hug.

Roman doesn’t return to Logan’s room. He crawls into his own bed, taking a moment to try and enjoy the comfort, and struggles to fall asleep for the rest of the night. He can’t stop shivering.

…He’s cold.

---

Roman knows it’s all too good to be true. That, he tells himself, is why he’s locking his door with him inside. He snuck back downstairs to steal a good few days worth of supplies from the kitchen, and he isn’t coming out.

Logan knocks on his door at 10am. Roman does not answer.

Logan comes back on the hour, every hour. At 7pm, he sighs, and Roman waits to hear the footsteps that signal he’s leaving, but they don’t come.

“Have I offended you, Roman?”

Roman jumps, and he knocks his glass off his desk by accident, and it shatters.

“Shit,” he hisses, and stumbles away from his chair to try and find something in his room to clean it up. The glass has gone everywhere. He accidentally steps in it. He should’ve worn shoes. “Shit, shit, shit, shit-”

“Roman, is everything alright?!”

“I just knocked a glass over!” he calls, trying to make it sound a lot less painful than it is. He regrets having white carpet. This’ll be a pain to clean.

“Roman, let me in, or I’m picking the lock.”

Logan’s voice leaves no room for argument, and he’s beginning to freak out a little if he’s being honest, so Roman stumbles over to the door and unlocks it, cursing himself for breaking so quickly, and grabs Logan’s arms as his darling nerd rushes in.

“Mind the glass,” he says faintly.

Logan looks down, and his expression drops, and he scoops Roman up and carries him to the bed, away from the mess.

“Let’s patch you up first, alright?” Logan soothes, and he hurries off to find a first aid kid, and he returns with Virgil, who winces at the sight of Roman’s feet but fetches the vacuum cleaner to hoover up the glass thoroughly.

Logan kneels on the carpet, eyes flicking up to Roman’s every few seconds as he carefully removes the glass and cleans the wounds, before bandaging Roman’s feet.

Roman makes the mistake of making eye contact with Logan, and the genuine concern in Logan’s eyes chokes him and almost brings Roman to tears then and there. So his eyes flick around the room instead, to anywhere but Logan’s face.

Virgil quickly leaves, and they hear him call for someone, and then he drags Remus back into the room and points at the stains.

“You know how to get blood out of carpet still?” he asks.

“Yep,” Remus replies. “Let me get my shit together.” And he hurries away to fetch whatever cleaning products he needs.

“Let’s get you out of here, hm?” Logan says, and he’s extending his arms to pick Roman up.

“No,” Roman says immediately, curling in on himself. Virgil and Logan stare at him.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Roman,” Virgil shakes his head. “…you don’t want to be in the room when Remus starts on the stains. Those chemicals, man…”

Roman puts his head in his hands, before forcing the tension out of his shoulders, and silently gets to his feet.

“Let me-” Logan’s already fawning.

“No,” Roman cuts him off, and he hobbles out of his room with his lips set in a hard line. They are calling to him. He hobbles to the bathroom, and once again locks the door.

Footsteps stop on the other side of the door as Roman perches on the edge of the bathtub. The door handle rattles uselessly.

“Roman,” Logan calls again. “I wasn’t joking about picking locks.”

“I don’t care,” Roman snaps back, and he hears the tense silence that follows it. “Leave me alone, why don’t you?”

“…Roman, what’s happened?”

“Nothing,” Roman pulls his hair and tries not to think about Janus and Patton and Patton and Janus. “Nothing that matters.”

“If it upset you, it matters,” Logan shoots back. And Roman is taken aback by how upset Logan sounds. “Roman, please, let me help you.”

“If you want to help,” Roman calls back, not really thinking, “then spend your time on something useful, why don’t you? Has Janus gotten fully settled into his new room yet? And perhaps you can move Remus into mine.”

Dead silence.

“Just go make yourself useful,” Roman pushes on, and he’s crying before he knows it. “And leave me behind.”

“I don’t want to leave you behind,” Logan snaps, and it’s sudden and raw and grieving. “Roman, you don’t think you’re useful? You have stripped us down to pure utility? That’s not healthy.”

“I’m not healthy!”

He can almost hear how Logan and Virgil must be glancing at each other.

“I… Don’t you guys get it? Thomas is unhappy because of unhealthy thinking, thinking which I participated in and perpetuated. Everything that’s gone wrong is because of me.”

“Falsehood,” Logan breaks his silence. “I… I have been the root of the problem before.”

“Like, once,” Roman scoffs. “Patton would have learnt what we were believing was actually wrong if I hadn’t been there backing him up. Perpetuated it.”

“I don’t think that’s right,” Virgil calls softly.

“I don’t care what you think,” Roman snaps, and immediately hates himself for it. The ice in his tone is unmistakeable and oh, he just can’t stop himself from hurting people, can he? He can hear Virgil’s sharp inhale through the door.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately follows up. “I… I didn’t mean that.”

“…I know,” Virgil says, before Roman hears one person move away from the door.

“Roman,” Logan says, and it makes sense, Roman supposes, that Logan is the last one there. “Please… You aren’t at fault for Patton’s mistakes.”

“No,” Roman cuts him off. “You’ll upset him if you word it that way.”

“What, if I hold him accountable for what he’s done?” Logan shoots back, and he sounds angry now. “Roman, you can’t magically make Patton pure and innocent by taking all the blame. Patton made mistakes. So has Janus. So did you. So have I. And Virgil!”

“Remus hasn’t.”

“Yes, but Remus is a kettle of fish all of his own. …It’s a strange metaphor. ‘Kettle of fish’. Why would you keep fish in a kettle?”

“Focus, nerd,” Roman says tiredly, and he shakes his head though Logan can’t see it. “Look, I get what you mean. I don’t think you’re right, but I get what you mean.”

There’s a quiet, and then there are footsteps, and quiet voices. Roman strains his ears, staring at the bathroom wall, and flinches as Patton begins to talk.

“Heya, Roman.”

He doesn’t trust himself to reply. He’s shaking. The blood is roaring in his ears. Patton says something else and Roman can’t reply because he doesn’t actually hear what Patton says. He can’t hear, he can’t breathe, he can’t compute anything and he can’t help himself when he stumbles towards the door and fumbles with the door handle before he distantly remembers he had locked it.

“I can’t…,” he gasps out, voice shrill and panicky. “I-I can’t-”

There is a sound of rattling and jostling from the other side of the door, before it opens, and Roman falls forward onto someone, who barely catches him but now that Roman’s attached he’s not letting go, and he’s crying in earnest and trying to gasp for air and failing. They sink to the floor. It’s nice to have nowhere left to fall.

“It’s okay,” someone tells him. “Roman, I need to you take nice and deep breaths for me, okay?”

Roman does as he’s told, but everything’s racing too fast, and the air wooshes in and out of his lungs too fast and he’s lightheaded but he can’t stop.

“Slow,” the voice corrects, and they pull him in close, whoever’s holding him. “Nice and slow breaths, Roman. I need to follow my instructions, okay? I’m going to count to four, Roman, and I want you to breathe in until I get to four.”

The voice does, and Roman obeys.

“Now, hold it while I count to seven, okay?”

The voice counts to seven and Roman holds his breath.

“Great, now breathe out as I count to eight. Go slow, your lungs should be empty on eight.”

And the voice counts, and Roman tries to control it but his breath still leaves him a little fast. But the voice isn’t angry. In fact, it seems to be quite the opposite.

“Great,” it soothes. “And again, Roman. In for four. We’re going to go until you are calm.”

And they do.

When Roman finally blinks back to himself, he’s on the floor, on his knees, with his arms locked tightly around Logan, who’s been the one guiding him through the breathing exercises. There is another set of arms around them, and Roman doesn’t lift his head from Logan’s chest to see who it is, because if it’s who he thinks it is, he’s going to break.

His steady breathing hitches, and he starts crying on the spot. …His feet hurt.

“Logan, can I?” says the person-he-doesn’t-want-to-identify, and Logan hesitates, before pulling away, ripping a whimper out of Roman, before he’s pulled against someone else’s chest – someone soft and steady and warm and light-blue and Patton pulls Roman into his lap and cradles him close as Roman can’t stop shaking.

“I’m sorry,” Patton whispers to him. “I’m so sorry.”

The floodgates open. Roman falls sobbing onto Patton’s shoulder and finally lets Patton hold him tight.

---

They need to talk. In fact, they probably should’ve done it then. But Roman is exhausted, and he can’t help himself but fall asleep in Patton’s arms, still clutching him tightly because even in unconsciousness Roman can’t let go, can’t let that touch escape.

Patton staggers to his feet with Roman cradled in his arms, struggling a little but not accepting Logan’s offer to carry him.

“He just… fell asleep?”

“Roman has been struggling with many things, recently. Touch starvation and sleep deprivation are two of them,” Logan tells him, gently reaching out to brush Roman’s hair back off his forehead.

Patton doesn’t comment on how tender the look on Logan’s face is. He winces, however, as Roman murmurs something in his sleep, and curls in closer to Patton’s chest.

“I imagine he feels safe,” Logan continues, hand falling back to his side. “So he just… shut down.”

Patton tears up, and looks away.

“I don’t deserve that,” he hums, and he hefts Roman in his arms. “I… I don’t deserve his trust.”

“I don’t think that’s right either,” Logan tells him quietly, a hand on Patton’s shoulder, and Patton shivers at the touch. “You two… you two seem to assume everyone hates you. I can assure you that is not the case.”

Patton’s eyes are wide and watery, and his arms are beginning to strain.

“Here,” Logan offers. “Let’s go downstairs, and you and Roman can sit on the couch together, alright?”

---

The moment Logan gets them settled, Patton has leant back into the corner of the couch, stretched out, and settles Roman against his chest, between his legs. With a sleepy murmur, Roman settles against Patton and hums to himself, and Logan’s heart wrenches at how gaunt the prince looks.

There is someone at the top of the stairs.

Logan turns on his heel and looks up. Janus is there, taking his hat off and pressing it to his chest as he watches Roman.

Janus watches him, his and Patton’s eyes meeting before Patton’s flitter away. Only then does Janus seem to be aware that Logan is looking at him.

“He certainly is a good actor,” Janus says, his voice hanging in the air.

Patton flinches, and his grip on Roman loosens.

“A good actor?” Logan echoes, and he can’t help the ice that creeps into his tone. “Is that what you think, Deceit?”

Janus looks at Logan in surprise, like he doesn’t expect Logan to disagree with him.

“You think everything Roman is going through is for attention?” Logan’s voice is rising and he can’t help himself, because Janus doesn’t know the first thing about what Roman has done to himself. “You’re saying he acted out a panic attack? You’re saying he acted out starving himself? Walking on glass for attention? You’re saying his touch starvation is a lie? Because I have eyes, Deceit, and I’ve been using them, and Roman’s not… Roman’s not been okay for a long time.”

Logan takes a physical step back and has to wipe the skin under his eyes because he’s not sure when he of all people started crying but here they are, before pressing on - “and just because you are so accustomed to seeing him fake being okay, it does not make you the expert on when he isn’t.”

Janus has recoiled, and as Logan looks back up at him, Logan can clearly see in his mismatched eyes that Janus is beginning to realise his mistake.

“A lot of what Roman is struggling with,” Logan grits out, forcing himself to lower his voice again, “has to do with your meddling, Deceit.”

“I have a name,” Janus says quietly, and he sounds fragile enough that Logan winces, regret finally dulling his anger.

He takes a moment to gather himself. He adjust his tie.

“…Janus,” Logan corrects himself, and he sees how Janus’ eyes widen once more, like he didn’t actually expect Logan to be the bigger person here at all. “I know you pride yourself on being observant, but you have spent your time comforting Patton. I know this, and I appreciate that, at least. But you have neglected Roman. You have used Roman. I know you are in a better position because of your efforts, in Thomas’ books and in your own, but you have dragged him down in order to get there.”

Logan is breathing hard. He’s struggling to keep his composure.

“Logan,” Patton says, and Logan flinches, balling his fists. He’d forgotten Patton was there. He’s shaking. He doesn’t know why. “Logan, it’s okay. We… we know.”

“Do you?” Logan shoots back before he can think.

“We do now,” Patton replies sombrely. “I led Roman astray, and I need to make it up to him.”

“You don’t owe him anything,” Janus counters, and it sounds like a conversation they’ve had before.

“That’s not really true,” Patton shakes his head, voice suddenly thick with emotion. “Jan, we both owe Roman something. An apology. He apologised to us, and we can’t even return the favour? We aren’t blameless.”

Patton drops his chin.

“I’m not blameless,” he repeats, and he brushes the hair that oh-so-wants to fall over Roman’s forehead back once more.

He is quiet.

Logan turns back to Janus, who is shaking his head silently.

“Do you really think,” Logan whispers, in awe – but not in a good way – “that you are faultless here? You think you have nothing to apologise for?”

His voice is rising again. He can’t help it.

Janus doesn’t reply, but he looks away, and that’s answer enough for Logan, who’s flushing with the audacity of this bitch.

“I can’t believe you,” he hisses. “I can’t believe you! When will you learn that actions have consequences? That if you try to silence someone enough they will bite back? Why can’t you accept that when you beat someone down enough times they will stay down?”

Janus is staring at him, his gaze calculating.

“This is personal, isn’t it?” he asks quietly.

Logan rakes his hands through his hair. “No,” he lies through is teeth, before relenting. “…Actually, you know what? Yes. Yes, it is, Janus. I do not take kindly to being silenced. And also, as someone who for the past two months has been dedicated to Roman’s recovery, you also made it personal the moment you made him spiral.”

Janus flinches, before his eyes narrow.

“You think you’re so pure?” he spits out. “Do you even know what you did to Remus?”

Logan stares, and his gaze then falls. He hasn’t really thought about it much. Never really considered it. Remus never seemed to be anything other than amiable to him. But now he thinks about it… His heart is in his throat.

“Don’t talk to me about making someone spiral,” Janus hisses.

“I had no idea,” Logan says limply. “I… I am not good with the consequences of my actions. I will strive to reconcile with Remus, if he is willing.”

Janus flinches again. The look on his face shifts into something almost more unhinged. Desperate. “How do you do that?” he demands, clinging to the bannister. “Just… accept you were wrong?”

Logan is wringing his tie.

“With a lot of grief,” he says quietly. “A lot of introspection. A lot of guilt. A lot of anger. And a lot of …practice. I am not perfect, but I am getting better. I am not saying I’ve never made Remus spiral. Or Roman spiral. Or Virgil. Or even Patton, because I know I have. But I want to be better than that.”

He shakes his head, and he’s pacing now.

“I hate being wrong,” he says. “Don’t you understand? Being wrong goes against all that is expected of me.”

He hears a hum of sympathy from Patton.

“But I need to understand when I am, or I’ll never grow. I can’t do that to Thomas, and I can’t do that to all of you. I now realise I’ve hurt Roman many times in the past and I refuse to continue doing so. But I need you to understand what you’ve done, Janus. And I need you to understand that there are things you need to fix.”

“I know that,” Janus says faintly. “I… my life is full of mistakes that I need to fix. I have exactly one stable relationship, and he is avoiding me right now. I know that.”

“Then do something about it,” Logan snaps. “Regret gets nothing done.”

Janus looks at him with wide and tired eyes, and realises that everything Logan has said is raw and real – if the haggard look in Logan’s eyes is anything to go by.

He goes to say more, before the sound chokes him, stops his breath in his throat, and Janus pauses, before his eyes fall on Roman, and he loses his courage, turning on his heel and sweeping away to his room.

Logan watches him go, and tries to unclench his fists.

“Logan?”

He turns slowly on his heel, gaze downturned as his eyes prick with shame as he faces Patton.

“Logan, look at me, hon.”

Logan raises his chin, and the breath rushes out of him like he’s been punched in the stomach as he realises just how soft the look on Patton’s face is.

“You’re right,” Patton says softly. “You’re exceptional, Logan, and you’re observant and kind. Thank you for being there when I wasn’t.”

“I’d do anything for him,” Logan says before he can think about it, and Patton watches the heat rise to Logan’s face, before Patton rolls his shoulders and scrunches his face in concentration.

The sofa shimmers and expands in width with a thought.

“Here,” Patton says softly, extending one arm to Logan, and Logan can’t help but notice how Patton’s hand is shaking. “Come lay down with us, if you want.”

Logan has all but crossed the room before he can think about saying no. He takes Patton’s hand and kicks off his shoes, taking off his and Patton’s glasses and setting them aside, before he finally hesitates.

“It’s alright,” Patton hums, and he gently tugs Logan down. Logan goes easily. He curls up against Patton’s side, face heating up, and loops one of his arms around Roman’s waist.

He shivers as Patton wraps his other arm around him.

“You look tired,” Patton hums, and Logan yawns despite himself. “How’s about you get some sleep, too?”

Logan decides to just nod and close his eyes. He doesn’t have the spoons left to argue.

They all end up falling asleep like that.

---

Roman wakes up surrounded by warmth, and he is pressed flat against someone’s steadily rising-and-falling chest. There is something playing in the background, like the TV. There are arms around him, more than one person’s arms, unless that person has more than two arms.

Janus has more than two arms.

Roman bolts upright, jerked awake by that alarming thought. All he does is jolt Patton and Logan awake too, and they stare up at him blearily as Roman’s heartbeat slows back to its normal tempo, and his face is hot with embarrassment as Logan sits up.

“Hello,” he says softly, and his voice is gravelly from sleep.

Roman has to bite his lip, because it sounds really cute.

“Hi,” Patton also says, and Roman lets him sit up properly, and they all end up in a sort of triangle, facing each other. “…How are you, Roman?”

Roman is fiddling with his sash. He is cold and shivering, and Logan opens his arms and Roman can’t stop himself from crawling towards him and letting Logan wrap him up in a tight embrace.

“Okay,” he says, because he doesn’t feel awful. Well, he sort of does, but… like, he’s certainly felt worse. And his feet are very sore. But he has, again, had worse.

Two pairs of spectacled eyes turn on him, with various disbelieving looks in their eyes.

“What?” Roman sits back, peels Logan’s hands off him because now he’s self-conscious. Logan makes a noise of protest, and reaches for him again, but Roman’s scooted out of the way.

Logan shivers, and wraps his arms around himself instead, mumbling an apology.

“Roman,” Patton says firmly, and both of their eyes are on Morality now as Patton runs his hand through his hair, swallowing hard. “I owe you something.”

“You…?” Roman looks confused. “You don’t owe me anything, Padre.”

“I owe you an apology,” Patton pushes, shaking his head firmly. “You gave me such a beautiful apology the other night, and I just stood there and took it.”

Logan blinks at this information, before turning and looking at Roman with a worried sort of look.

“When did this happen?” he asks.

“It was, like, two in the morning, specs,” Roman shrugs it off as best he can. “I went to go get some water and… they were downstairs. So I, you know, thought I pull a Virgil. Rip the band aid off, and all that. They deserved an apology.”

Logan glances at Patton, and Patton shifts in his seat.

“I don’t know if we did,” Patton counters quietly. “I… plus, it’s not fair of us to take your apology and not offer one back when we’ve also hurt you.”

“It…” Roman goes to say something, but he can’t figure out what, before he shrugs again, and settles on “it doesn’t matter much, Patton. I just want you to be happy.”

Patton recoils, glancing panickedly at Logan, who has turned to Roman and reached out to him again. Roman looks away.

“Please,” Logan says, and his voice is tiny and vulnerable in a way neither of them - Logan’s oldest friends - have heard before. “Please don’t push us away.”

Roman is rooted to the spot, and Patton realises the prince is crying again.

“We love you, Roman,” Logan continues, and Patton’s nodding but he has a funny feeling this admission is a lot more personal than Logan will let on. “And we can’t stand seeing you break yourself like this.”

“I deserve it!” Roman suddenly snaps, and Patton is too stunned to reply but Logan has already moved closer, and he’s taken Roman’s hands in his own.

“You don’t,” Logan says firmly. “You do not deserve this. This is a fact.”

“I didn’t mean to drive you so hard,” Patton pipes up, causing Roman’s head to snap towards him. “I didn’t mean to put the blinkers on, you know? Just angle down on what we thought we knew, about good and bad and stuff. I… I’m shaken up about it, still, and I will be for a long time.”

Patton rubs his throat and looks away. His face is hot with shame but when he does meet Roman’s eyes, they are sympathetic and gleaming.

“And you’re allowed to be shaken by it too,” Patton finishes. “You should be. Everything we know has been altered. It’s not necessarily completely wrong, but… we turned to the wrong page, is all. Got the wrong edition out at the library. We…”

Patton shrugs hopelessly again.

“I get it,” Roman says, and his voice is low and wobbly and he looks like he probably won’t be able to stop crying for a while.

“So what I’m trying to say, Roman,” Patton holds up a shaky finger, “is I’m sorry. Both of our worlds have been turned upside down, and I was so caught up in my own head that I didn’t stop to think about you.”

“You have to focus on yourself sometimes,” Roman shrugs. “I don’t blame you.”

“While I realise that Roman’s insinuations with that last statement are self-deprecating,” Logan jumps in, “he’s right. Taking time for yourself is not something one needs to apologise for.”

Patton notices, while Logan is facing him and talking to him, that Roman is looking at Logan’s face, admiring his profile.

Patton sees the little smile on Roman’s lips.

They’ll be good for each other, Patton thinks with satisfaction.

Logan looks back at Roman, to check in with him, and catches that little adoring look before Roman can wipe it away, and he flushes.

“Um,” he says.

“Uh,” Roman stammers.

Patton giggles at them, and swings his legs over the edge of the couch to put his shoes back on.

“C’mon,” he says, “let’s have some lunch! Can we have a picnic?”

He likes the way Roman’s face lights up at the idea.

---

They have a picnic, and everyone is invited. It is a repeat of Logan’s and Roman’s from the other day, the living room transformed into a suitable space.

Everyone is invited, and they’re waiting for the last two to arrive. Remus is loitering at the top of the stairs, talking to someone just out of sight.

“It’s okay, Jan,” Roman hears him coax. “They invited all of us.”

There’s a quiet reply that Roman doesn’t catch, but he has already gone stiff.

“That’s not true,” he hears Remus murmur. “You know that’s not true.”

He doesn’t catch the reply.

“Well, I’m not going without you,” Remus declares. “So either we both come down or we’re chilling in your room today.”

There’s a moment, before Roman watches his brother nod, and go back upstairs. “That’s okay,” Remus murmurs. “That’s okay. Let’s go, alright?”

The four sitting on the floor are watching this, watch them walk away, before they all exchange quiet glances. Patton’s and Logan’s are far more knowing than Roman is probably comfortable with.

“I think… I need to talk to them,” Logan mumbles, and he’s picking at the inside seam of his jeans as he shoots glances at Patton. “I think I made it worse.”

“I think you gave him something important to think about,” Patton shakes his head. “Just like he did you.”

Virgil is glancing around at everyone, thoroughly bewildered. “What the fuck happened,” he demanded, gesturing pointedly at them with his wineglass of Gatorade, “while I was asleep?”

They fill him in.

“Huh,” he says, very quietly, and doesn’t say anything more. In fact, the conversation lulls as Virgil sips at his drink, and the clouded look in his eyes gives them the impression he’s thinking about something that he’d rather not discuss.

Roman shivers, and curls up on himself a little, staring at the blanket beneath them. He’s… he’s certainly set something into motion, here. And he’s not sure whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing. But… well, progress always starts rocky, right?

It does in his experience, at least.

---

It takes Logan a day to work up the courage to talk to Janus, and another day to find him. He’s like Roman – very good at being slippery when he wants to. And when he does find him, in Remus’ room, Remus blocks the door with a too-casual lean, and smiles a smile that is all-teeth and all-threat, and Logan bows his head and accepts the terms silently.

“Let him in,” Janus calls, his voice absolutely not wobbling, and Remus steps aside and gestures Logan in, closing the door behind them.

Remus’ room is like Roman’s room, except more of it is black and silver, and there is far more electric green everywhere. But it’s still cosy, and it’s tidier than he expected.

Janus is sitting on the floor, holding a hand of cards. It looks to be Uno, now Logan looks closer, and Remus sidesteps him to take up his place on the floor across from Janus and pick up his own hand of cards, before they both look up at Logan. Asking what he wants.

Janus looks fragile. Remus’ eyes meet his own with a challenge, and Logan immediately feels the dramatic irony of this situation.

After a moment, he sits down on the floor as well, turning their line into a triangle, and shuffles backwards a little to give them enough breathing room.

“If you’re busy,” he says softly, nodding to the card deck, “I can come back another time.”

They aren’t busy. It’s just Uno. But Logan is offering Janus a choice here – the choice to do this now, to do this at all.

Janus purses his lips, thinking for a moment. Then he takes seven cards from the pile, face-down, and slides them towards Logan.

“No,” he says, “we’re not busy.”

And thus begins the most emotionally charged game of Uno Logan has ever experienced. But after a few rounds, it becomes clear they are waiting for him to start with what he has come here for.

“I…” he begins, and immediately cringes as he fumbles for what to actually say, crucially aware they are both staring at him now. “Um, oh, fuck, this isn’t how I wanted this to go.”

And the soft swear from him gets a snicker out of Remus, and that’s enough to sort-of break the ice, and Logan smiles even as he rubs his temple. “Just, let me get my thoughts in order.”

And then Janus places a reverse card, and Logan takes a moment to make an indignant noise that makes Janus laugh too, before returning to trying to figure out what to say.

He sets his cards down (face down) as Remus plays his next card, and they turn to him, waiting to see what he’ll do next.

“Um,” he starts again. “I… I have a mental checklist, and I’m going to run down it. Forgive me if this is crude or impersonal.”

He takes a steadying breath in, and out, and turns to Remus.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and watches Remus blink in surprise.

“What for?” the duke hazards, cautious, but his eyes are surprisingly bright.

“For…” Logan trails off, rubs his forehead, before sighing and forging on. “For… how I treated you, your whole introductory episode.”

Remus freezes, like that was not what he expected Logan to say.

“I have been informed there were some… undesired consequences of my actions towards you, and I never intended nor wished to hurt you. In fact, as I have grown to know you more, I can only respect you,” Logan continued, stealing glances at Remus to check he was still listening.

Yes, he has Remus’ whole attention now. Those intense eyes are boring into his, growing brighter by the second, and then Remus pushes a hand to his mouth as he tries to keep his emotions at bay. The saltwater leaking down his cheeks does not obey his wishes.

Logan starts to reach out to him, before he catches himself, knowing that this isn’t his place.

“That’s what I’m sorry for,” he finishes lamely. “I’d go as far to call you my friend, Remus, and I cannot stand the fact that I have clearly done something to hurt you, and never rectified that.”

“I accept,” Remus whispers. “I accept your apology. Thank you. I… I’ll be frank, I just assumed you secretly hated me.”

“I do not,” Logan immediately counters, shaking his head imploringly. “I really do not hate you.”

Remus lets his hand fall from his mouth – to reveal he’s smiling.

“I’d say I’m sorry for throwing shurikens at you,” he banters, “but I’m really not. That was fun.”

Logan snorts. “Fun’s certainly a word for it,” he agrees, pointedly rubbing his head where they had once been lodged. Sometimes, he gets headaches – pain flaring up from those old and non-existent wounds, and it doesn’t make sense but he has no choice but to live through it. And besides, it’s a small price to pay for getting back onto even ground with Remus.

And now that he has found that even ground with Remus…

Logan turns to Janus, and bites his lip.

Janus is watching him very closely. And Logan realises he’s looking for dishonesty. Looking for any proof that Logan is playing with them. But Logan doesn’t like to think he could be that cruel.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts, and personally, he is amazed at how quickly tears have sprung to his eyes, though they haven’t leaked over yet – and he can see how Janus all but flinches at how raw Logan’s voice is.

This is good. This shows Janus that Logan’s being genuine. Because Logan isn’t a good actor, and they both know it. And Logan is trusting them with a lot right now – with his real, genuine emotions, and those are things he’d rather take to his grave if he could.

But it’s important to be genuine, so genuine he shall be.

“I will not deny that I meant a lot of what I said,” he continues, taking off his glasses so he can rub his eyes as subtly as possible, “but the insults were fuelled by my own frustration, and were not only uncalled for, but… bloated, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” Janus nods, and when Logan dares to meet his eyes, Janus also seems on the brink of tears – fragile indeed – but is offering him a surprisingly understanding smile. “I think… it might be a safe statement to make that I was also fuelled by frustration.”

“It’s easy to take sides,” Logan agrees, putting his glasses back on. “But I think it’s the last thing any of us need. And …Patton and Roman have made up, it seems.”

“That’s… good,” Janus murmurs, and his gaze falls back down to his cards. “That’s good.”

His tone makes Logan think that maybe Janus doesn’t actually believe that. But he doesn’t push. He just picks up his cards and puts one down.

Maybe there’s more to say. Logan isn’t sure if he’s said enough. But this is where Janus wants to end it, so Logan will not drag it out any further.

God, he doesn’t know how much more emotional shit he can take. It’s exhausting.

---

The next movie night, Roman shows up first and constructs his pillowed throne, and is lounging when Virgil and Logan arrive. He’s comfortable, he’s in his element, and he’s ready for anything.

Janus walks downstairs.

Okay, he’s ready for most things. This is perhaps one of the few things that he would have to admit that he did not consider himself ‘ready’ for.

But…

Well, it’s probably overdue, right? If Roman can’t learn to play nice, then they’ll never be able to pick up the pieces for Thomas – and that’s what it’s all about, in the end. And Roman… Roman has been selfish for too long.

(is selfish bad? It always felt like a loaded term and now he doesn’t know what to think about it)

Janus is not in his usual attire. In fact, he almost looks less comfortable, despite the comfort clothes he’s wearing. And Roman can’t help but stare – because he’s wearing pyjamas, of all things. A plain yellow sleep shirt and a pair of black linen trousers, and as he draws closer Roman can see the yellow plaid on them.

Janus clears his throat. “I apologise,” he rubs his arm, not really looking Roman in the eye, but not really looking away. “I don’t… I don’t do onesies.”

It’s okay, because Roman’s also just in normal pyjamas and not in a onesie either, but… Janus has made a clear effort, and it’s… it’s a nice effort.

Roman scrambles to his feet before he realises it, like a host greeting his guests. Logan and Virgil are on the sofa, and their conversation fell silent the moment Janus walked in, but they don’t seem too concerned. Maybe they didn’t expect this to be as civil as it is. Roman doesn’t know whether that’s a compliment or an insult.

“That’s alright,” he manages to force out, because the silence is getting a little long and they’re all looking at him for a response. “That’s… thank you for coming. Thank you for… yeah.”

Wow. Real eloquent, Roman.

But Janus smiles, and it’s a nice and genuine smile and one Roman never expected to receive, and for the first time in a very long time there’s a flicker of hope in his chest that things might even work out.

Everyone trickles in, and Janus ends up sitting on the end of the sofa, beside Roman’s pillow throne. And he lounges there, elbow on the armrest, and they spend the evening slowly warming up to each other. By the end of the night, they are throwing barbs and references and jokes like no-one’s business, and when Janus stands up and leaves when it’s all over, Roman is crying before he knows it (just a little, it’s not like he’s sobbing, he’s just a touch overwhelmed).

But whatever noise he makes must be enough to reach Janus, because he snaps back around with wide eyes.

“Did… did I offend you?” he asks, his voice thin, and he looks genuinely afraid.

“No!” Roman is quick to drag the back of his wrist over his face and smile. “I just… I didn’t expect this to work. I’m glad it has, don’t get me wrong! I just… didn’t expect it.”

And Janus smiles again, and nods, and Roman knows he understands, and says nothing more. Well, nothing other than,

“Goodnight, Roman.”

Janus holds his gaze for a beat, a beat long enough to see the tension bleed out of the prince.

“Goodnight, Janus,” he replies, infusing Janus’ name with all the thanks he can, hoping it’s enough. “Sweet dreams.”

Janus leaves, not one to drag conversations out, it seems, but he sees the little hop he does at the top of the stairs, where he thinks Roman can’t see him, and Roman screams into his hands for a moment to gather himself.

---

Thomas is hesitant to bring up Roman and Janus in the same sentence next meeting, but they show up, they are civil, and they even stand next to each other.

And Roman cracks a grin at Thomas’ bewilderment, and when he shoots Janus a glance, it widens as he sees a similar look on his face too.

“Let’s say,” he addresses Thomas’ careful question, “that we’ve done some… backstage work. We can work together. Especially for you.”

“I second that,” Janus nods. “We all have. Don’t worry about us.”

And Janus nudges Roman with his elbow, making Roman snort, but he still can’t help but rub the spot of contact as it burns delightfully.

His touch starvation has gotten better, especially with Logan helping him, but it certainly isn’t gone. And he can’t help but be ashamed, at times, of being that way and needing the help he needs, and sometimes it’s easier to hide away.

The thing is – now he doesn’t get away with it. It’s annoying, at times. But on the whole, it’s refreshing. Thomas eyes the two of them, searching for anything amiss, but Roman gives him a smile. A whole smile. A genuine smile. A smile he had fallen out of the habit of giving.

And Thomas sees. And Thomas beams back. And in that look, Roman can almost hear him saying welcome back, welcome home, I missed you.

He missed him too. So very much.

“Now,” he declares, clapping his hands together and twisting his smile into something more mischievous, “what’s the plan, ocean man? What do you need us for?”

“Well,” Thomas draws out, before pulling out a notebook and spreading it out on the coffee table, “I’m been roped in to help with a function, and I need you guys’ opinions.”

With a fluid movement, Janus sinks down to sit beside Thomas on the floor on one side, and Roman moves to the other, and the focus shifts into work mode without a second of arguing.

By god, Roman missed this.

---

A couple weeks later, it almost feels like loose ends have been tied up. Well, all but one. Because now Logan’s being flighty, and Roman’s going through the motions of being frustrated and terrified that he’s upset him – and that now he’s going to lose him.

But it’s about lunchtime when Logan knocks on his door, and when he opens it, Logan has a picnic basket tucked into the crook of his arm and a well-hidden look of apprehension on his face.

“Greetings, Roman,” he says formally, and Logan only gets extra formal when he’s nervous. “I was wondering if you were busy.”

Roman is in the middle of something, he won’t lie, but one look at Logan’s face, and the basket, and his plans are out the window in a heartbeat.

“I’m not busy,” Roman folds his arms, cocks his hips, smiles, and notices that Logan swallows hard. “Why, what’s up?”

“I, uh,” Logan fumbles, and he adjusts his tie, “would… I was wondering, well, that, um. Would you join me for lunch?”

Oh, he’s cute when he’s flustered. And Roman takes that thought and shoves it down, hoping it doesn’t colour his cheeks, and smiles warmly.

“I’d love to.”

“Great.” Logan turns on his heel, and offers Roman his arm. Roman stares for a moment, before taking it and closing his bedroom door behind him, letting Logan lead him onwards.

They don’t go to the living room, like he expects, but Logan actually leads him to the Imagination, and the Imagination is active, and the scene is a beautiful little park with a fresh breeze ruffling soft grass and a blue sky that goes on forever, and it’s the most picturesque thing Roman’s ever seen.

Logan leads him over to a picnic blanket, already set up good to go, and helps Roman get seated, even though he really doesn’t need to, and Roman’s chuckling a little at him as Logan fusses, before setting down the basket and quickly unpacking with strangely practiced motions.

It’s pleasant. It’s extremely pleasant. Roman’s having a wonderful time. Patton and Virgil must’ve helped with the food because it’s very good. Logan brought a book of sonnets and they pass it back and forth, reading their favourites, and Roman can’t help but compare Logan to a summer’s day at this rate, with how his smile is bright and his eyes shine with life, and the radiant way he watches Roman speak.

Roman has never felt so loved in his life. He wonders if he looks as moonstruck as he feels.

Logan finishes his last sonnet, letting the words ring in the air, before setting the book down slowly. It falls closed in Logan’s lap, and Logan stares down at it, like he’s waiting for something, and Roman lets himself fall still as he waits as well.

Logan closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in, and reaches into the basket one last time.

And this time, he pulls out an impossibly huge bouquet of red roses, and he hands it straight to Roman.

Roman takes it with shaking hands, admiring them with wide eyes. “They’re beautiful,” he whispers, trying for the life of him to think of something more to add but he can’t help but be stunned.

“I…” Logan rubs the back of his neck. “Red roses… are, in the language of flowers, associated with romantic love.”

Roman’s grip on the bouquet tightens. “They are,” he agrees loosely, heart in his throat.

“And,” Logan forges on, “they are my gift to you. A-and those… those statements are related.”

Roman is staring. He can’t help it. This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for him and also the most Logan thing he’s ever heard, and he’s extremely impressed that these two categories have actually crossed over in this way.

“Me?”

He doesn’t realise he’s spoken til the word leaves his lips.

Logan looks at him, looks at him with pure fondness that stops doubt dead in its tracks.

“You,” he confirms. “How could it be anyone else?”

Roman looks down at the bouquet in his hands, and suddenly his eyes are burning with unshed tears.

When he doesn’t reply, Logan quietly speaks again. “…I understand if this is unexpected, and you need to think on it, or too soon, or… unwanted.”

And Roman realises his silence has been taken the wrong way, and he sets the bouquet down with the utmost of care, before getting up on his knees and pulling Logan into a tight, tight hug.

“It’s a surprise to be sure,” he shakes his head, words pressed into Logan’s shoulder, “but I assure you it is a welcome one.”

“Did you just Prequel-meme during my love confession?”

Roman snorts. He can’t help it. And he can’t keep it to one snort, either, and before he knows it he’s all but cackling into Logan’s chest, before he looks up with all the fondness he can muster.

“I might have,” he says. “Will my sins be forgiven with a kiss?”

Logan’s breath stops, and he looks like Roman’s just stunned him with a fish to the face. But the shock quickly breaks – breaks into a beautiful joy that lights up his eyes and that Roman just adores.

“You… absolutely,” he agrees. He sounds breathless, like he didn’t think he’d get this far. “At least one kiss will be enough, I think.”

Roman slips his arms around Logan and pulls him in close. “I’ll pay your toll, though you drive a hard bargain,” he jokes, and leans in.

Logan kisses him sweetly. It’s perfect except it’s far too short for Roman’s liking, but Logan pulls back to study his face, trying to commit this moment to memory. And how could Roman deny him that? Not when the weather’s so beautiful, the breeze is so gentle, and Logan’s hands are on the small of his back so warm and steady, and he can feel the rise and fall of Logan’s chest and know that they are here and are together and everything’s alright.

“Is this okay?” he asks, because despite himself he can’t help but wonder if he’s enough for Logan, but Logan gives him another quick peck that is more smile than kiss.

“It’s adequate,” he banters, that gleam of life in his eye. “But there’s only one thing that’d make it better, I think.”

“Oh, I know,” Roman smirks, before in a flurry of movement, he has Logan ‘pinned’ by the wrists on the picnic blanket. “More kisses. You think you’re going to end this anytime soon? I’m not letting you go for at least another hour.”

“Only an hour?” Logan smirks back. “I have three set aside just in case.”

“I think we’ll manage,” Roman rolls his eyes fondly as he dips down to kiss him again.

They spend the afternoon like that, giving each other little moments of sweetness and pressing silent thank-yous again and again into each other’s skin. Roman is no fool. Logan probably saved him, not that Logan would see it that way.

And Roman wouldn’t know it, but Logan feels the same way.

Patton is right. They’re good for each other.

And for once, it’s finally the start of something good.

--- --- --- --- --- ---

<|:) howdy guys hope that fic was as banging as i think it is. gonna tag some people who expressed interest (AKA interacted with the posts i made about this) for this lmao <3

@ironwoman359 @larkiaquail @ab-artist @treeni @i-really-like-dragons

and a some friends/people who mentioned a ‘general taglist’ might be a good idea :) @broadwaytheanimatedseries @leiasolo77 @merlybird500 @madamedraconis @witchesgetstitchesblog @quackerz-creations

anyway uhhh have a good night/day

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caramellody · 4 years

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After watching the P3 story of P4AU since my ps3 broke as well as watching the first two p3 movies AND starting P3 portable in the span of three days I have ultimately come to the decision that i like Ken

#what a lad #my art #persona 3 #ken amada #persona 4 arena ultimax #me rewatching ultimax's story mode be like p3 and p4 gang meeting p5 in the current setting when #i miss them.....#the last few days in general has been a MASSIVE p3 nostalgia fest #i love p4 its one of my favorite games of all time as well as my favorite of the 3 modern persona games #but p3 will always drag me back due to it being my first persona #if to me p4 is like being cozy at home in a fireplace #p3 is like meeting an old friend you havent seen in a while #WHICH I WONT LIE I RELISTENED TO THE P3D OPENING AND I GOT A LITTLE EMO ABOUT IT

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lifblogs · 2 years

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Since I'm in a Bagginshield mood I'm reposting one of my fics.

A few days had passed since the Company had left Lake-town, and the barren wilderness plundered by the dragon was starting to drag on Bilbo. At night under the glimmering stars Thorin oft spoke to him of the wild forests of pine, and fir that had inhabited the hills and peaks. But they had all fallen to dragon fire, leaving dreary, heartless ruin.

On the third day they set up camp, lighting no fires lest they alert lurking enemies of their presence. As Bilbo sat with Bofur and Balin eating cram and watching Thorin as he examined the sky, pacing to and fro, a realization came upon him.

He was one year and fifty!

Bilbo shoved the last of the hard biscuit-like food in his mouth, and then started counting on his fingers and muttering to himself.

“What are you doing there, lad?” Bofur asked.

“No, no. Shh, shh, shh…”

He looked up at the moon, and the stars. Then, realizing he was right, a small smile graced his face, leaving him looking fair and child-like.

“It was my birthday,” he said.

“Pardon?” Balin asked.

“The, the, the day we were in the barrels—well, you were in them, I rode them—it was my birthday.”

Bofur and Balin broke out in wide grins, and then turned to the rest of the group. “Oi, it was Mr. Bilbo’s birthday when we fled from the wretched Elf kingdom!”

The rest of the Dwarves broke out in cheers and one by one went over to congratulate him. Fili tried giving him a knife, and Bilbo had to decline. Sting was fine as it was. Besides, accepting gifts for such an occasion wasn’t Hobbit fashion.

Then it hit him. Oh no. Oh no!

He didn’t have gifts for the Company! What was he to do?

“Excuse me for one moment.”

Bilbo rushed off to his pack, and searched through it, looking for anything he could give to thirteen Dwarves. But unless they wanted more cram he had nought to give them.

“Blast it!” he cursed.

“Lost something?” Kili asked.

“No, I—” Then he realized the Dwarves wouldn’t know of Hobbit customs. As for Hobbit customs, Bilbo was far past those. He was adventuring, and had seen violence. Surely this small thing…

However, it did strike him that he desired to give a gift to Thorin. The Dwarven king stood majestic and lordly in the moonlight, like carven stone, his eyes like fair jewels plundered beneath the earth. His wanderings and watchings had taken him to a peak, thus he had missed all the commotion.

But what could Bilbo give him?

He groped around in his pockets, and his hand came upon something soft, something he had picked up in Lake-town during their short revelries.

The Dwarves, seeing Bilbo was otherwise preoccupied, began to talk and jest amongst themselves, giving Bilbo plenty of time to sneak off on his own.

He stole away from the camp, and fingering what was in his left pocket, he wandered over to Thorin.

“Beautiful night,” Bilbo commented, breath misting in the chill air.

“Only when I look upon the stars from the gates of Erebor shall the night be beautiful.”

Bilbo chewed on his bottom lip. “Riight.”

Then Thorin turned his gaze upon Bilbo and he smiled, a sight more delightful than the jewels Bilbo had been promised lay in the dragon’s hoard.

“Forgive me,” he said. “To be so close to my home, yet not be able to enter it has left me in a dark mood. But now that you’re here, all is well.”

Bilbo found himself smiling back at him. He wished to embrace him as they were wont to do, wished to share his warmth and lie together, but no, he had business.

“It was my birthday,” Bilbo said. Thorin raised an eyebrow. “The day we were on the Forest River to the Long Lake.”

Thorin seemed aghast, as if wondering how he could have missed such an occasion.

“Then when we reach the mountain you shall be heaped with presents!”

Bilbo shook his head, looking down, still fiddling with the item in his pocket.

“No, you’ve got it wrong. Hobbits—we don’t accept gifts on our birthdays. We give them. So I thought… Well… Here.”

He took the item out of his pocket and thrust it into Thorin’s hands. At the brush of their fingers joining together warmth bloomed in Bilbo’s chest, nearly enough to chase out the chill.

A bemused look passed over Thorin’s face as he held up the handkerchief.

“What’s this?”

Bilbo scratched at his nose, lowering his head, cheeks flushing red.

“I picked it up in Lake-town. Thought I might use it since I’ve missed my own. But turns out I forgot about it entirely. I don’t have much else to give, so I thought, I don’t know, perhaps it could be a sign of how you’ve changed me. Of what I was, and how I don’t need it anymore.”

“Master Baggins, this is too great a gift.”

“No, no, really, it’s just a square of cloth.”

Thorin grasped Bilbo’s shoulder, stepping closer to him. Bilbo breathed in deeply, looking up to meet his dark eyes, so intense yet blanketed with a gentleness that brought courage and love to his heart.

“It means much to me, and I will keep it near.” He placed it in a pocket inside his vest, close to his heart, and then he embraced Bilbo. “You need not have changed for me, Bilbo. I have come to realize that your ways were just right all along.”

Bilbo held him tightly, hands brushing against the waterfall of his dark locks.

“I’m glad I have changed,” he told him. “Perhaps I needed it, and I think Gandalf saw that. Not all is dark and cruel, Thorin. You’ve taught me much: about—about honor, and loyalty, and courage… and love.”

“Love is a fair thing.”

“I always thought so. Though I’ve never gone looking for it.”

Thorin drew back, and ran a hand through Bilbo’s curls before caressing his cheek.

“Really?”

Bilbo shrugged. “Not many Hobbits seemed to show my inclinations.”

Thorin gazed upon him with a fondness that had Bilbo reaching up to feel over the familiar roughness of his beard.

“Would it be wrong of me to admit that I am glad?”

Bilbo shook his head. “Of course not. Meeting you: I think it was meant to happen.”

Thorin chuckled, and drew Bilbo against him once more, strong arms nearly crushing him. Yet it was something he enjoyed quite dearly.

“I suppose we have the Wizard to thank for that.”

“Or… just you.”

“And you.”

Thorin drew Bilbo into a kiss beneath the cold light of the moon. Love bloomed amongst desolation, and Bilbo’s birthday gift lay safe against Thorin’s breast.

#The Hobbit #Bagginshield #Bagginshield fanfiction #The Hobbit fanfiction #Bilbo Baggins #Thorin Oakenshield #fanfiction #writing #my writing

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mxchellesworld · 3 years

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Attraction and Repulsion

Harry Styles x Reader

Synopsis; Where Harry is too much of an asshole for a proper relationship but too good in bed for you to leave

Warnings; mean!harry, arguments, name calling, smut, unprotected sex, creampies, degradation, impact play, choking,

a/n; harry styles fans come get yall juice!! ok i wont lie this kinda seems all over the place but i like it anyways. hope yall enjoy and please send some feedback:)

***

You thought it was real funny. It was absolutely hilarious how the whole world saw Harry as a sweet lad who wears big trousers and has fun nails. But you saw him for who he really was. Harry Styles was mean. Plain and simple.

But you loved it.

And as much as you tried to deny it, you both knew it was true. You were like magnets. When you weren’t absolutely repulsed by one another, starting an argument, you were wrapped up in each others sheets feeling the strongest attraction you’d ever felt for another person.

You were always stuck in a limbo of back and forth. Arguments and name calling over the phone leading to quick hang ups and the eventual knock on the door signaling he was there to deal with you the only way he knew how to put you in your place.

You were drawn to him like a moth to flame. And just like you, he was also too stubborn to admit that he’d want anyone else but you. No matter how cocky he got flaunting the fact that he could get any person in the world with just a smile and wink, he knew he’d never actually do it.

Under all the petty acts and insults there was the smallest bit of adoration he held for you and you only.

You had been lounging around your apartment when your phone chimed. It was one of your girlfriends sending you a link to a newspaper article. You hadn’t bothered to look at the title on the message before clicking on it and seeing the large cover photo on your screen.

Right there Harry and some model getting cozy after his last show. Big bold letters on the teen magazine reading ‘HARRY STYLES AND NEW BAE???’. You audibly scoffed.

It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend so you couldn’t really do much about it, you thought ignoring the small sting in your chest. Shaking off the feeling you skimmed the rest of the article then replied to the message, “she is kinda hot, maybe he’ll give me her number lol”

With that you threw your phone on the other side of the couch and started to get up. It was 3pm a little too early in your book to start drinking at home and especially too early to start letting him ruin your day.

Maybe it was time to start looking at other people. You were hot and single, living in a big city with other hot singles, it shouldn’t be too hard for you to find someone to get in a stable relationship with or at the bare minimum a good fuck for the night.

So you did what anyone else does and picked up your phone once again, going straight to the app store. Right on the front page was tinder and just for good measure you added bumble. Making the accounts were easy enough but selecting the pictures for your profile was tricky. You wanted a good amount of selfies and body shots. Cute pictures but also something risky enough to catch the eye.

Soon enough you were already swiping and giggling to yourself about the future prospects you had lined up. Meanwhile in a city about a few hundred miles from you Harry was sitting with a frown on his scowl on his face in the same predicament you were in earlier that day.

He was in his hotel room packing up and getting ready to head back home when his phone chimed. He looked over to see if it was his manager or someone from crew with any updates on departure times however it was one of his close friends.

At first he was expecting a sports update or an invitation to go to a bar when he got back but instead it was a screenshot of your tinder profile. When had you gotten that? he thought to himself.

It wasn’t like he could get mad since he knew he didn’t treat you the best. But that was just your dynamic, deep down you both cared for each other and even then it made for the best sex of his life.

Looking back down at the glowing screen he swiped through the few screenshots he was sent. Various pictures of you out with friends. The one that got him was a picture of you in the bathtub, your body was covered by the porcelain yet just enough of your chest just was showing in the mirror as you gave the camera your best sultry look.

Yet the real kicker was the bio where you included him in your top artists. He scoffed and shook his head, biting his lip as he clicked out from the messages app. Instead he called up his manager to get him on the fastest plane back home. If the blood wasn’t rushing to his face he knew he’d be hard as a rock but for now he’d save that frustration for when he saw you.

You knew tinder hookups were easy to get but you didn’t know just how easy. After spending the day scrolling away, putting your phone down for food and subtle chores you landed a ‘date’, which you really knew was ‘lets get tacos before we fuck on my couch’.

You had planned to meet at 8pm at some restaurant by your house. At 6:30 you started to get ready slowly, taking your time in the shower, shaving, the works. You had your music connected to a speaker getting yourself excited for the night.

Who wouldn’t be? You needed this. This was your time to get all dolled up and get to cum from someone other than yourself or the man who makes the vein in your forehead pop when you think about him.

You put on your sweet smelling lotion and head to your closet looking for an outfit. It was starting to get warm so you settled for a black t-shirt dress that fell to mid thigh with tan heeled booties. You pulled out a jean jacket to put on top in case it was windy.

After finishing your hair and makeup, it was nearing 7:30 and you were back on your couch fixing up the pillows and picking up any misplaced items in case the night led you back to your place. Suddenly you heard a knock on your door, the same hard 3 rasps which only meant one person.

Your heels clicked on the hard wood as you made your way to the door, unlocking it and opening it halfway, “What do you want Harold,” you said unamused.

“You look pretty,” he said pushing past you, ignoring the annoyance in your tone.

“Wish I could say the same about you. Now what do you want? I’m busy and I have to leave soon,” you said rolling your eyes.

He took a seat on your previously neat couch, spreading his legs and putting his arms up on the back. The way he looked you up and down sent chills up your spine, “What did you get a date that quick? The internet works wonders doesn’t it love”, he said rolling his neck.

“How did you know abo- actually I don’t care. As a matter of fact I do have a date and I’m meeting him soon so if you don’t mind leaving,” you said picking up your jacket and purse, “Why don’t you call that one girl from your show? She probably misses you.”

He let out a short laugh before pushed on his knees to stand back up, “Ah I see what this is. You’re jealous and you think going on a little date with some nobody would hurt me.” The cockiness was just seeping out of him.

“Pull your head out of your a-,” you started before he cut you off.

“No no you’re gonna listen to me angel. We may not be together but you belong to me. No one else can ever touch you or fuck you as well as I can,” he said leaning in to whisper in your ear.

It was almost sad how easily he could have you crumbling. Just then your phone dinged. It was a message from the guy, Danny? You couldn’t remember at this point.

“Answer it sweatpea, tell him you can’t make it.”

You were really debating it. On one side this could be your chance to finally tell Harry to fuck off but on the other you knew it would be hard to replace him and you weren’t even sure you completely wanted to. That was a whole other layer of emotions to dig through.

You looked back up at Harry, one of his curls falling into his eyes which were filled with lust. The way his tongue peeked out to slip over his pink lips gave you the answer you needed.

“Fuck,” you whispered unlocking your phone. Quickly you typed out a half ass apology about your sister needing you to babysit, even though she lived out of state, he didn’t need to know.

After you hit send your phone was quickly plucked from your grasp and pushed into Harry’s pocket. You didn’t think much about it when his lips pressing onto yours was acting as a great distraction.

He pulled away lightly mumbling a “taste like strawberries”. If you weren’t so turned on you would’ve giggled.

You moaned into his mouth pulling him by his loose button up shirt into your bedroom. It was a routine you had almost perfected at this point with little stumbling or need to grab onto the walls as a guide to make sure neither of you hit any corners.

Your lips never left each others in the feverish mess of kisses. Each one making you grow needier and needier. Your fingers worked quickly in trying to get the buttons on his shirt undone. You felt his warm ones wrap around yours halting your movements.

“Not so fast, you think I’m gonna let you off easy for what you did today?”

You huffed out, “You did the same-”, again he cut you off.

“I get to do whatever I want because you know who I am,” he finished trailing his thumb over your bottom lip, slowly tugging it down. All you could do was nod.

“Say it then.”

“Harry Styles,” you whispered out.

You could see his pupils get bigger with each syllable. It was his favorite thing, the power, the dominance. He got off on his own name. But so did you, the thought alone made you clench your thighs as you were in the moment.

His hand came up and tapped on your cheek, a small implication of what you knew he could do, “You’re gonna have to be louder than that lovie. Don’t worry though I’ll let you try again later.”

He backed you up until your legs hit the bed, pushing you down. You slowly crawled back, pulling your jacket and dress off as he worked on his belt and pants. You made quick work of kicking off your boots and settled into the plush sheets.

“Hurry up Styles. I think Danny could’ve made me cum at least twice now,” you said sliding a hand down to your panties. That move would bite you in the ass but the risk was worth it.

You let out gasps at the touch of your fingertips, moving your hips, doing anything to put on a show and hopefully have him give you what you wanted quicker.

He eagerly got on the bed, trapping you under his knees. His hands quickly ripped yours away from where you needed them most, pinning them over your head. He leaned down, face inches from yours until you shared the same breathe.

“You just want to be punished don’t you? Don’t worry I’ll help you get it through that stupid little slutty brain of yours,” he finished with a sadistic smile.

You nodded frantically moaning out pleases. His hand came down on your cheek, the chill of his rings pressed against the now warm skin on your face. His nails raked down until his hand was snuggly hugging your neck.

You tilted your head back giving him more room to squeeze and mark as he pleased, “Please Harry, want you to fuck me already.”

He tutted his lips giving your neck one last squeeze before he pulled away. “I think we should work on your patience,” he said moving down to your spread legs.

His warm hands pulled on the lace fabric on your hips, scoffing at the visible wet patch, “Don’t tell me this was all for old Danny-boy.”

“No Harry its all for you,” you mewled as he let his fingers swipe through your folds. It was evil how he was leisurely propped up between your legs teasingly circling your aching bud, switching between blowing on it and nipping at it.

You already felt the tears springing in the corners of your eyes. So little was doing so much. Just a little more and you could cum right then and there. And he knew it too.

“Oh you better not cum. I’m not gonna be very forgiving if you do,” he trailed off almost laughing. He never let up, quick circles on your bud making your body tense up.

“Ple- no.. oh god Harry,” you whined out. You felt your juices gushing out of you as you reached your peak. He never let up on his motions, going even faster on your overstimulated clit.

“God you’re so pathetic. Such a whore you just had to cum,” he punctuated with a slap right on your pussy.

At this point you were sobbing. Your head was swimming in the pleasure. You tried to apologize but the words weren’t coming together, just broken whimpers and mixes of sorry’s.

His hand came down on your sensitive cunt two more times, each one had you trying to close your legs but he was quick to keep them open with a bruising grip.

“Please.. Harry.”

“Please what?” he said taking in your shivering frame.

“Please fuck me! Want you to cum inside me, mark me so everyone knows i’m yours!” you spoke out breathlessly.

Quickly he flipped your over, pulling your hips up so that your pussy was on display for him. He groaned as he swiped the tip of his weeping pink cock over your already puffy folds.

With a long stroke he filled you completely. Your nerves were on fire and he hadn’t even started. His rough hands grabbed onto your hips for leverage on his thrusts.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Such a good little whore just for me to ruin,” he gritted out. He kept a steady pace, quick and deep making sure to hit your sweet spot each time.

Your nails were digging into the pillows for dear life. Eyes shut closed as your mouth fell in silent screams and jumbled phrases of pleasure. The only thing on your mind was HarryHarryHarry.

“Wanna cum again.. oh my god.. Plesse Harry fill me up! I need to feel it,” you said arching your back further. You felt each vein slide along your spongy walls making sure to clench around him and milk him for all he was worth.

His grip on your never let up. He let his hand come down on your ass cheek. Once again the rings contrasting the heat radiating off of you, “That’s it cum for me baby. I want you to scream my name when you do. Can you do that love? Shit , tell me who fucks you this good? Who’s cum do you want spilling inside you?”

You all but screamed a “Harry Styles” letting your neighbors know just who was with you that night, nights before, and nights to come.

The sweet noises and screams of his name had Harry’s cock pulsing inside you, ready to burst at any moment.

One look down at where you connected and he was sent right to heaven. Your cute little pussy creaming right on his cock had him shooting his load deep inside you.

You both gasped and groaned at the feeling of him filling you to the brim. He stilled his motions and you all but collapsed onto your bed.

You felt him lean down once again, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear before whispering, “You think Danny could’ve done that?”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #chellewrites

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sleepypeaky · 4 years

Text

amore?

michael gray x italian american male reader

wc: 1.5k

warnings: mentions of death, scars, you know the drill

request: My gay italian ass self would LOVE a Micheal Gray fic, but like, not sure he would like a guy who's italian after that fucking Luca incident.. and I dont know if you write for mlm..

a/n: I hope you enjoy! idk why i made it so long but when i get a plot in my head i mean,,,,,

also i always try not to describe the readers features so everyone can be represented and i full mean for that when i say early on that michael sees him as italian. I personally dont look italian besides my nose- somehow the like 2% irish overrided it- so obviously this is a little off but i didnt know where to fix it

1927

Michael sat in his desk chair facing the window.

He was in New York City, he was the head of this branch of the company.

But he still felt like something was missing. Naturally, part of that feeling was from the fact that he had been exiled from his home. But the other was something else, boredom maybe, depression, loneliness.

He sighed and turned back to his desk, where his meetings planner was open to the days page.

His first meeting was a clandestine one, booked under a guise of what it really was. It was always intriguing, Michael thought, running a company that was a front.

What he knew of this client was they were attached to one of the city’s hundreds of speakeasies, what these prohibition inhibited Americans called their secret pubs. And he assumed the client was coming to purchase some quality booze from the Shelby Company Limited.

What he he didn’t expect was who they were going to send.

Normally the heads of the pubs sent someone to broker the deal in their place, a tall weasel faced man usually, who reeked of alcohol from every pore.

Instead, when his secretary opened the door, an incredibly striking Italian lad strode through.

You weren’t expecting to see a man like that behind the desk. You figured it’d be some slimy old guy getting rich off of the illegal cash. Not a charming and incredibly handsome British boy.

“Uh hi, I’m Michael, Michael Gray.” He held his hand out to you and you shook it.

“I’m (y/n) (l/n).”

He offered you a seat.

“You’re not from around here are you?” You said.

He chuckled, “What gave it away?”

The deal was done in barely a half hour. But somehow you both found yourselves at lunch.

“So how did you find yourself in, well, this line of work?” Michael asked.

“Well it’s pretty simple, there’s always work for people who don’t mind taking risks.” Michael smiled at that. You continued,

“but I could ask you the same question.”

“Well lets say that this is one of the less illegal ventures of my family. And as you put it, risks are lucrative.”

“Ill cheers to that.” You smiled and raised a glass.

The lunches happened again, and then again.

Soon you were meeting daily, making up further excuses for getting to know each other.

“My family is, well, its complicated...” Michael chuckled one day as you were at lunch.

You smirked, “Michael, i’m Italian. My family is fucking nuts, trust me, your’s is no worse than mine.”

With people who had said that to Michael in the past he had laughed along and said sure, he was sure you meant it. Probably not in the same way, but he was in no position to argue.

“I might work in the illegal pub world, but some of my family is fucking nuts,” You began. “My parents are fine, they came over from Italy before the war and brought my grandma, who i’m convinced my grandma used to be a spy or something in Italy. At least 3 of my cousins are working for the mob. It easy work for us, we’re all connected to one family or another between here and the old country.” You noticed a dark look on Michael’s face, a typical reaction “Dont worry, not the big guys like the Black hand, we don’t mix with Sicilians, they think they’re better because they live on an island.”

You went on for a bit more, just basic family outlining. And then it was his turn.

Michael went into the abbreviated version of his past (how he was taken and adopted) and the Shelby’s endeavors- the betting to drugs, smuggling, alcohol. Eventually he got up to the Changretta execution and John.

“John was killed by the Black hand in December ‘25.”

“Stronzi, I’m sorry.” You cursed.

He rubbed his right shoulder, “Yeah, after that my cousins decided to take down the boss, unfortunately I made some stupid decisions that could have ruined the plan and ended up exiled here.”

He took a weak bite of food. You tried to lighten the mood.

“Well, you weren’t kidding when you said you’re family was complicated.”

You both laughed.

Shortly after this lunch you were both walking back to his office when a group of black clad men passed by on the street. They passed by without issue, but you saw that Michael paled and clenched his jaw. They were blatantly Black Hand. You saw he was rubbing his right shoulder again, nd you now figured it was a nervous habit. You endeavored to take his mind off it and started a new conversation.

About a month following this, you had brought Michael to the bar where you worked. You danced to the jazz and drank heavily, both getting caught in the energy of the decade.

You ended up back at his office, now the only ones there, and he cracked open a hidden bottle of Shelby malt.

Now both of you were on several glasses of liquor from the night, you found yourself floating in and out of conscious perception. Though you came to, suddenly, when you realized your lips were quite incriminatingly interlocked with Michael’s.

Your inhibitions lowered, you continued gladly. And before anything progressed you both passed out drunk on his office floor.

You didn’t talk to him the next day. Mostly because your hangover was so severe you thought you would have permanent brain damage, but also because you were not sure how to proceed.

It would be easy to pretend like nothing had ever happened. To blame it on the booze, or just claim you didn’t have any recollection of the night. That was also gnawing at you, what if Michael didn’t remember?

It would be easy to just move past it, but did you want that?

Michael still felt the slight pressure in his head after 2 days. He rubbed his eyes and put the cigarette back to his lips. He was sitting in his apartment contemplating. He knew what he wanted, but did he want to risk it.

The door buzzer rang as he stumped the cigarette out. Who was calling at this hour? He took his pistol from the table.

He walked along the passageway to the door, he unlocked it and looked through the crack.

His heart skipped a beat and he released his grip on the gun.

“I got your address from your secretary.” You said. “I hope that’s o–”

Michael cut you off by pulling you inside and kissing you against the shut door. You gave in to surprise and kissed back, pushing him through the hallway.

Without breaking you unbuttoned your shirt and let it fall in your path. He broke for a breath of air.

You kissed him again and began to unbutton his shirt. He pulled back quickly to say something, but it was too late. You had already seen them.

Two knotted scars on his right shoulder.

“Michael what-”

“I didn’t want to tell you.” He looked down. “I was scared.”

Still in shock you watched as he finished unbuttoning his shirt. Low on his abdomen were two more scars.

Suddenly in your mind you connected the signs, talking about john, the Sicilians, and the instinctive rub of his shoulder.

“They shot you too.” You said in a barely audible whisper.

Michael only nodded.

You walked forward and reached a tentative hand out to one on his shoulder. Tears prickled your eyes. You walked around to his back, you hand trailing over the soft skin before finding the exit scars from 3 of the bullets.

Michael turned to face you.

“I didn’t think you’d ever find out.”

You nodded.

He put his hand behind your head and guided it back to his.

“What do your parents think?” Michael asked later.

Your head was tucked in the curve of his neck, your arm laying over his bare chest, playing carelessly with the sheet draped over it.

“My dads not really invested around to care, i think he knows but it’s just brushed over. Ma still thinks that maybe if she pushes the right Italian girl at me i’ll change. But honestly?” You laughed. “You’re catholic, she’ll be over the moon.”

Michael smiled and threaded his fingers through your hand.

“What about you?” You moved back a little to see his face better, “Does anyone know?”

Michael let out a deep breath, the one that normally proceeded any talk referring to his family.

“There was always so much going on that i didn't have much time to process, much less let anyone else see it. There were girls, i wont lie. That may have thrown them off. Even now, i think there is so much actual bad going on that what i do wouldn't make any of them bat an eye.”

“Is this what you want?”

He looked at you,

“I didn’t know until now.”

You breathed.

“And?”

“More than anything.”

And he kissed you again.

☾ ✧ ☾ ✩ ☾ ✧ ☾ ✩ ☾

☾ ✧ ☾ ✩ ☾

☾ ✧ ☾ ✩

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☾

#michael gray #michael gray x reader #Michael Gray imagine #michael gray x male reader #male reader #peaky blinders x male!reader #Peaky Blinders #mlm #michael gray x male!reader #ididnt know how to fucking end thissorry fdlgksjdflgkjdflkgd

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idjitlili · 4 years

Note

Hi its me! Could you write something for the cinnamon roll known as Lindir?

I'm gonna put some dirt in your eye

Lindir x elf!reader

Summary:growing up as Gandalf's adopted daughter ,being apart of the company only to pass through Rivendell,only to joke about doing your best friend,Lindir.

Word count:1200+

It was no secret that Gandalf wasnt your real father, you both looked nothing a like. However this didnt stop him loving you like you were his actual child,you werent sure if wizard could have children. You wondered if he ever got horny,it disturbed you but you did wonder. Anyways you didnt know your parents ,they were killed by orcs ,Gandalf found you crying as babe ,and thats all you know. You were an elf ,mostly Thorin didnt like that very much when he found out.

So how you ended up in the company of Thorin Oakenshield was; simply because Gandalf didnt want to leave you with the elves again ,or leave you at home where you could be in more danger.

You were more than capable of defending yourself,due to your many vists with Elrond they had trained you very well. You also became best friends with Lindir since he was responsible for most of your training ,plus being your tutor. Lindir was also abandoned as a child but was taken in by Elrond. He grew to become a marchwaden.

Lindir was a kind soul,nothing like the elf which lived in greenwood ,suck up assbutt's in your opinion. Don't get me started on Thranduil with those slug eyebrows,his son looks older than him,he has a stick shoved right up his anus.

Lindir didnt really like having to talk to strangers or infront of large crowds,he was shy,but he wouldn't let anyone know thing. However you did know,you felt exactly the same. Lindir was pretty much your only friend growning up,you weren't social compared to the other elves.

Oh god the first time you had gotten a little drunk with Lindir was at feast wherethey were handing out wine ,keep in mind Gandalf was out of town ,and you had stolen a bottle ans dragged Lindir to your balcony to drink it. Of course the elvish stuff it doesnt take alot for you to get drunk.

After that you had both snuck out to a river and with that Lindir just wanted to splash his feet in the side. However you had a different idea,whilst he wasnt looking you had stripped yourself from dress before jumping in. He was too busy looking at his bare feet ,when he had looked up and seen you swimming about in just your underclothes.

"y/n! Get out now,thats dangerous." he had scolded you ,pulling his shoes back on.

"ppft. g-gonna put some dirt in your eye." you sassed the ellon,swimming closer to him only for him to pull you out with ease,onto your feet.

"damn ,you are so strong,I would like to see whatelse you can do..be the scissors to my dwayne johnson..lin I-" You began to admit some feelings only to fall dizzy in Lindir's arms ,not surprising though,before hand you had jumped on your bed ,parkour. Parkour! you must have been shattered, with that he had carried your wet body in his coat to your room. Setting the fireplace a light,placing you in bed with like a million blankets because you were soaking but he didnt want to undress you. In hopes you would warm up.

Aways he was gentleman,and the bestfriend you could ever ask for. Back to now you were in Rivendell with the company of thorin oakenshield.You had been greeted by Lindir ,who simply sent a nod your way not wanting to anger the dwarves ,if they knew of your close friendship,and soon enough elrond arrived and was like who's hungry.

In which ended up with you sat next to kili ,who sat next to Bofur ,Kili seemed to admire the elves. You picked at the salad ,wheres the lembas bread or chips ,you could do with some potatoes right about now.

"Cant say I fancy myself an elf too thin,high cheekbones not enough facial hair." he spoken up to avoid Dwalins and Thorin killer gazes. "Though that one isnt bad." he gestured to Feren an male ellon,you had giggled ,Bofur nudged him "that is not an elf maiden." Dwalin smirked ,causing the company to burst out with laughter. Kili's cheeks boomed red from embarassment,you patted his back as the laughter died down.

"if it helps ,I know which ellon ,I would rough," you spoke smirking eyeing Lindir who looked back at you confused,you know he heard , you just hope Gandalf didn't ,you look at him and hes still in deep conversation with Elrond ,thank valar. "and who is that miss y/n?" fili had piped up from down the table.

"the brunette elf next to elrond," you had faced away when you finished ,blushing a little pretending to look at the trees.

Yes it was no lie that you had deep feels for the ellon for many ,many years,but you did not know he felt exactly the same. The whole company had turned to lindir ,some in disgust mostly thorin ,dwalin,others smirking,some blank. Lindir had just smirked knowing you were up to something seeing your posture and gesture when avoiding his gaze.

"I bet you five coins lass,you wont do anything about it," Bofur had suggested ,the dwarves knew you were shy,and soon enough kili,fili,ori many others had bet on this too,bilbo just watched the scene unfold like that star trek meme ,you know the shocked face. Thorin didnt bet ,not wanting incourage you.

"okay,I accepted." and with that you smirked at the company then looking at Lindir who looked back you with farrowed brows ,as you stood from your seat. Slowly you made your way over to your bestfriend.

"w-what a-" before he could finish you had cupped his cheeks pressing your lips to his soft ones. His face and yours red,knowing your ada had just watched that. "I've wanted to do that for so long." the dwarves look on in shock,not really bilbo or balinbut most of them.

"as have I" he spoke ,you just sent him a wide grin before returning to your seat. "pay up lads." you held your hands out gesturing your pay. "you knew him before this,right?" bilbo questioned you cheekily. "yeah,he was my only friend growning up,i guess he's more now..." your face still red ,your legs shaking you couldnt believe you had just done that. "well lads pay up ,shes got more balls than you gave her credit for." Th0rin commanded ,it was no lie that you had made him hate elves that little bit less.

IN which finally confessing your feelings ,got you a pay check. Yeah you are so bodaciously epic you say Thorin and kili and fili and have a date. You are totally excellent. You meet up with Lindir not very long after the battle of the five armies,and not that many years later you get married in which the whole company come,Bilbo is your maid of honour. Of course Gandalf excepts Lindir as his son in law ,seeing you both grow up together plus he's an angel.

#lindir #lindir x reader #lindir x #lindir imagine #lindir imagines #the hobbit x reader #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit x you #the hobbit x #the hobbit imagines #the hobbit #hobbit x reader #hobbit x #hobbit imagines #hobbit imagine

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if-found-return-to-gusu · 3 years

Text

After Christmas With A-Yuan

I want to talk about New Years but when typing it up I realized I really wanted to talk about the day after Christmas too. So I split them up into two separate posts. So I’ll start with the 26th. I went to sleep holding 2 of my favorite people but woke up tragically alone. I could tell I’d been re-tucked into bed with care. I remember the feeling of someone shifting and A-Yuan mumbling and snuggling closer. The press of a kiss against my temple? But I may have been dreaming. All I know is that I woke up alone.

Well not entirely. As he often does, Lan Zhan had placed Suibian on the bed with me. She’s the one that woke me actually. She was snuffling up by my nose, her own twitching against mine as her fur tickled my skin.

“Mmm good morning” I mumbled at her, making her hop around quite excitedly once she realized that meant I was awake. I laughed and sat up carefully to make sure I wouldn’t squash her and beckoned her closer again.

“Do you know where my boys are?” I asked her once she was close enough to pick up. She twitched her nose at me and, of course, didn’t answer. So I told her we should go find them together. (Bunnies don’t usually like to be held from what I’ve experienced. They’ll tolerate it for a while but it makes them nervous. But Suibian never seems to mind so long as I’m the one holding her. Maybe it was because I kept picking her up as she was growing up ((Don’t wanna say when she was a baby because she still IS a baby.)) Oh… maybe she only tolerates it because she’s still so young? Oh I hope she doesn’t grow to fear it. D: I’ll have to make sure she feels extra secure because I love taking her around with me. Anyway. Tangent. You all know to expect it by now)

I swung my legs out of bed and padded out of the bedroom only to be hit by a wall of smells and the sound of kitchen stuff clinking together quietly. I closed the door as silently as I could when I heard A-Yuan giggling and what sounded like Lan Zhan gently shushing him. I poked my head out of the hall to take a peek and found Lan Zhan was very carefully handing A-Yuan a tray of food that was clearly meant for me. A-Yuan had almost taken it when he looked up and saw me. He yelped and shoved the tray back at Lan Zhan, who managed to keep 99% of it from spilling, and rushed at me.

“No Xian-Gege! You’re supposed to be sleeping!!” he said, clearly frustrated that his plans had been ruined. I laughed as he started to physically turn me around and push me back to the bedroom.

“Oh? But what if I’m not tired anymore?” I asked just to be difficult, resisting him just enough to make him put some effort. The boy went to a nearly 45 degree angle trying to shove me forward. I glanced back to smile at Lan Zhan who had set the tray to rights. He smiled back and I decided to stop teasing A-Yuan who had started to whine a little.

“Alright! I’m going! I’m going!” I said. I heard A-Yuan telling Lan Zhan to wait a moment before he ushered me back into bed. I set Suibian down on the floor to hop where she wanted (the squirming and teasing was a bit too much excitement for even her, though she didn’t try to escape until she was a safe space from the floor. I trusted Lan Zhan would plop her back in with Bichen which he did so it worked out) and climbed into bed obediently. A-Yuan climbed on next to me so he could kiss my cheek and tuck me in before scurrying off with the order for me not to move.

Another moment and Lan Zhan and A-Yuan were back in my line of sight, A-Yuan carefully carrying the rather over-laden tray over to me only for Lan Zhan to help place it as I sat up again.

“Good morning, Xian-Gege!” A-Yuan chirped as if he hadn’t just reprimanded me into diving back under the covers. I decided to play my role correctly, which wasn’t too hard because I was honestly feeling very warm by the exchange.

“Oh! What’s this? Breakfast in bed??? For meeee????”

Okay the look on A-Yuan’s face told me I was over-selling it so I just grinned at him and laughed, opening my arms for a careful hug. I let him go and started to ask if the two of them were planning to join me only to find Lan Zhan had left and was now returning while holding two more trays of food.

Not nice to flex on a 7 year old, Lan Zhan. Come on now. XD

It took a bit of maneuvering and there were a few very near calls but we managed to get all three of us in bed with the trays of steaming food over our laps.

Blueberry pancakes and eggs and sausage (for me and A-Yuan anyway), toast and hashbrowns. Complete with orange juice and a glass of water. Entirely too much food that was absolutely completely consumed to the last crumb.

It was… it was so domestic and.. Warm and… My chest aches with it even now. I want that. I want that forever. It felt like the three of us were a real family! And.. and after what A-Yuan said at his birthday party… Okay that’s for later. We’re doing this in order!

As we worked through the mountain of food I suddenly realized-- When had Lan Zhan gotten a third tray? It was possible that he’d had it but only ever pulled out 2 before but this one didn’t match the others. The tray that was given to A-Yuan was a bit smaller (which was good because we were PUSHIN it with the trays on the bed) and covered in little bunny prints. I tapped on A-Yuan’s tray and asked Lan Zhan when he’d bought it. He replied that he had picked it up this morning since he was out anyway.

“You… went out already? And came back? And cooked breakfast???” I asked, somehow still surprised even though I KNOW very well by now that he wakes up at the ass crack of dawn.

He just nodded and smiled at me. “I had to get a few things and I didn’t want to disturb you two.”

I flopped back on the bed with a whine, rambling about how they were spoiling me so rotten and how we should be pampering HIM instead because he’s already gotten so much done that morning and must be tired and blah blah blah. I don’t listen to myself most of the time so I can’t tell you all what I said but you get the jist.

Lan Zhan smiled. I mean. I know he did even though my arm was dramatically over my eyes. I could feel it in his ‘mn.’

“Don’t laugh at meeeeee,” I whined which just made him more amused. A-Yuan patted my knee consolingly and told me I should finish eating before my pancakes got soggy.

A brilliant lad. Top of his class. Couldn’t be prouder if he was my own son.

Ahhh dreams.

Gotta work on one dream at a time. Not gonna compound it right now.

Once we had finished our feast, I insisted on carrying the trays back to the kitchen and cleaning up since they’d gone through all the work making and delivering breakfast. Lan Zhan got a… complicated look on his face at that and I know where his mind was going. I softened and gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. I hadn’t forgotten our talk from the other day. I wasn’t going to go overboard. He seemed to understand because he relaxed and nodded at me.

I only did a basic clean up for the time being, promising to take care of the rest of it later. I think that reassured him further.

Not gonna lie, part of me really really wanted to reach for the bottle of cleaner again. My fingers twitched a bit but I resisted. I left a bit of mess and went to sit with my boys in the living room.

Knowing and doing are two different things. And that was admittedly harder than it should have been. But the way Lan Zhan looked at me…. Suddenly it was the easiest thing in the world.

The three of us digested while watching something ‘family oriented’ on TV which just gave me MORE feels to be shelved for now. It ended up with Lan Zhan shuffling closer to me while A-Yuan somehow draped himself across both our laps. I saw Lan Zhan stroking A-Yuan’s hair out of the corner of my eye and it just melted my heart further.

After a couple episodes of… whatever we were watching (A-Yuan apparently had been watching this for a while and wanted to keep going so we indulged him. But I have NO idea what the hell it was)

The moment… it was honestly perfect. It had even started to snow outside. I could see the big fat flakes floating lazily down to earth from the large window. I don’t know what we were watching but it wasn’t too obnoxious. I felt Lan Zhan slide his arm around me as he kept petting A-Yuan. The two of them looked about as content as I was. Warm and close and comfortable.

I.. I really want that moment to be my life. That forever. That is paradise.

But then, as all good things are wont to do, the moment ended. But it wasn’t a sad ending. It was a new beginning.

A-Yuan had shifted after his show had ended and looked up at Lan Zhan, asking if it was time yet. I had no idea what he was talking about but Lan Zhan seemed to consider. He looked at his watch, then nodded with a hum. Apparently this was the correct response because A-Yuan whooped and basically just RAN to the kitchen.

I looked at Lan Zhan, completely confused, but instead of answering my silent question he just smiled and offered his hand to me. Never one to miss THAT opportunity, I took that offered hand and let him lead me to the kitchen where A-Yuan was pulling out… cookie cutters?

“We have to make the batter, first,” he reminded A-Yuan, making the boy pout a bit. “But you can mix the dough” was enough to get him back into his chipper spirits.

“Batter…?? Are we making.. Christmas cookies? A bit late for that, isn’t it?”

“Never too late!!” A-Yuan protested. And who am I to argue against that?

“There was a rather good sale on the cutters when I was out so I thought perhaps A-Yuan would enjoy it.”

“You thought right!” A-Yuan chirped happily before asking what ingredients we needed.

I helped gather the ingredients. Various white powders, eggs, butter, vanilla and so on. With my hands in the rather sorry state they were still in I let them handle putting everything together and mixing it up (safer that way anyway. Even with this, part of me wanted to add a bit of spice to the mix. Sweet and spicy go well together! And I think it’d make an interesting cookie! Maybe I’ll try that on my own some time) but I got to roll it out for cutting.

And then I discovered that when Lan Zhan saw there was a sale on cookie cutters he had apparently decided to buy one of each. There were tons! Even some repeats because of buying some bulk packages of them as well. But that’s okay! Can never have too many snowmen!

Cutting out the shapes was so much fun! We let A-Yuan pick out most of them but even so. I stepped back and let Lan Zhan put them in the oven though. I’m.. getting better but hot stuff still makes me nervous sometimes.

Actually it’s really frustrating! It wasn’t even the kitchen where the explosion happened! It was my bed area. They’d intended to get me in my sleep. It really really was only luck that my explosion went off after a delay. It was probably supposed to go off at the same time as the other one and if it had…

I think Lan Zhan noticed my thoughts starting to spiral again because suddenly he was in front of me. He brushed my cheek with his thumb, either wiping off some flour or putting some on. He gently guided me to look at him and smiled even more softly at me. “I’m here,” he said, his voice low and careful. I smiled back and covered his hand with mine.

“Are you okay, Xian-Gege?” asked my suddenly acquired new ankle weight. I must have looked quite bad because apparently A-Yuan noticed too and latched himself to my leg. He doesn’t do that as much as he used to when he was little (though being with A-Ling seems to bring that out in him again). I reached down to pat his head and smile at him too.

“I’m fine,” I promised to him, then again to Lan Zhan when I saw him still looking at me. “I promise.”

And I was. The moment had passed as quickly as it had come and suddenly I found I really was okay. I hugged them both and thanked them before asking what we wanted to do while the first batch cooked.

Lan Zhan pointed out they would only be in the oven for a few minutes which surprised me. I always forget how fast they cook. Blame it on making them SO rarely. And that I don’t cook may be another factor. Hah. Ah well.

We stood around and chatted while we waited and before I knew it the timer dinged and Lan Zhan was switching them out for the next batch. I don’t know if A-Yuan or me was more impatient for those cookies to cool, but Lan Zhan said that the frosting would just melt off if we didn’t wait for them to be at least room temperature.

I pointed out that maybe I wanted a melty snowman he didn’t know. But he gave me a look so I sat on the bar-stool I’d pulled up and pouted sulkily. A-yuan climbed up onto his own stool and sulked with me. Lan Zhan was pointedly NOT looking at us which made it really hard to hold the pout for wanting to giggle instead. A-Yuan and I shared a look and we both almost broke, but I managed to just re-exaggerate my pout and he copied my expression.

I had just started to implement an old, tried and true method of mine of making a quiet whine noise that very slowly increases in volume when Lan Zhan finally declared that we could decorate them now. With many whoops and hoorays A-Yuan and I set to our task (A-Yuan still on his stool so he could have easier access to the counter. He’s already 7 but still a bit small for his age if I’m honest.)

The two of us decorated our little hearts out while Lan Zhan stayed in charge of swapping out the cookies in the oven. Eventually, though, he ran out of cookies to cook so I tried my luck at getting him to join us in the decorating.

He seemed rather reluctant but I’m nothing if not persistent. “Come oooooon, please? I wanna eat a cookie that Lan Zhan made!!”

I think that’s what finally convinced him. I’ve noticed, and I do TRY not to take advantage of this too often, but… well he never denies me anything. Like… ever. Not unless he has a really really good reason. I don’t know if it’s because I’m really good at pouting or if he really just loves to spoil me that much? Maybe both? I mean…. Okay I’m… Since New Years especially I’ve been re-framing how I look at our relationship. And how he reacts to me and how we interact with each other.

I know I know. About time? Look, you can’t blame me for being careful. Okay? Just… ugh. Anyway….

Maybe it’s rose-tinted glasses. Maybe I’m reading way too far into things. Maybe I’m just wrong. But I hope… I hope I’m right. I hope that what I’m seeing is true. I hope…

But we’ll get into that later.

Lan Zhan helped decorate the rest of the cookies and it went…. About as well as his decorating back at the corn maze had. Bless his talented heart but arts and crafts are definitely a weakness for him. A weakness that is now snuggly coupled with his shit aim in my heart. The two ‘flaws’ that he has and they just endear him to me even more. How is that fair? Somehow him being bad at things just makes him even MORE perfect? That’s just not fair!

A-Yuan and I laughed at a particularly hideous angel cookie, but when A-Yuan asked if that angel was supposed to be ME I think we both died a little. (Lan Zhan did not confirm nor deny the identity of the angel cookie but at a glance it did seem to share my morning bed-head hair. And he gave it clothes that were rather dark and tattered as is my preference. But that could just be chalked up to lack of finesse with the piping. The grey sprinkles for eyes did add a bit of suspicion though.) I mentioned if it was supposed to be me they’d better snap off the wings which made Lan Zhan scowl at me and hold the cookie rather protectively. I laughed and promised I wouldn’t destroy his hard work and he reluctantly relaxed and went back to his careful decorating.

Sooner than I would have liked we ran out of cookies to decorate. Though I’m not sure where we’d put them if we had any more. They covered every flat surface in the kitchen while the frosting settled and dried. “Which ones do you want to take home?” Lan Zhan said after a while of gazing fondly at our kingdom of sugar soldiers. That… kinda made my heart sink. Right. Home. A-Yuan was gonna have to go back home. Which was not with us. Wen Ning was going to be picking him up soon.

Should I be concerned with how fast I got used to it? The three of us together in the play-acting of a little family? Probably.

A-Yuan hopped around the kitchen and considered carefully, picking out some of his favorites to give to the rest of the Wens. He asked me to give a sparkling snowflake to A-Ling which just made me melt.

Eventually we got all his selections all packed up in tupperware and ready to be taken away. But he came up to me with one last cookie in his hand. It was a christmas tree he’d spent so long carefully decorating. And honestly it was a masterpiece considering he’s all of 7 years old. He’d done his best to color in the star at the top with gold frosting and the branches with green. He’d placed strings of dot sprinkles in alternating colors as garland and shaped sprinkles for the ornaments. He’d even tried to put lines in the frosting at the bottom to make it look like tree bark, though that had melted together into a bit of an un-even lump. But still.

“I made this one for you, Xian-Gege,” he said with the brightest smile. He said that he was scared when he found out I was hurt but he was so glad that I was okay. He was saying something else but I cut him off when I hugged him so tight, careful not to crumble that precious cookie.

I still have it. I couldn’t bring myself to eat it. Eventually Lan Zhan and I sprayed it with stuff (per instructions seen on the internet) so that we could preserve it and keep it forever. I turned it into an ornament for a christmas tree. I wonder if we can have A-Yuan over next year. I wonder if he’d notice it.

I was… a bit emotional up until Wen Ning finally showed up to collect his nephew. There was another round of hugs where I told A-Yuan how much I love him and how proud of him I was and then he was gone.

And it was just me and Lan Zhan.

I sniffled a little and Lan Zhan carefully took my hand to comfort me. I smiled a watery smile at him before we both went about cleaning up. We nibbled on some of the more unfortunate looking cookies (which honestly weren’t ALL Lan Zhan’s since I had some failed experiments of my own to add to the ‘reject’ pile) and soon the kitchen was properly spotless. But it still smelled like the cookies, the scent of sugar and vanilla mixing with the sandalwood that usually dominated the home in a mix that was surprisingly pleasant.

Once we’d finished cleaning up, Lan Zhan took my hand again and led me to the living room to sit down. “Wait here a moment,” he said. He went off to the other room to get something. I listened to the soft sound of his footsteps and the rustling of paper. He sat next to me again and asked me for my hands. I offered them to him with a questioning stare that he ignored in favor of undoing the wrappings I’d put on earlier to help protect them while we made the cookies.

One at a time he slowly unwound the length of thin cloth until my poor raw knuckles were exposed.

I asked him what he was doing, but he only responded by pulling out a bottle of something. It was apparently some sort of ointment or lotion. Something soothing. He poured some into his own palm, rubbing his hands together to warm it up before he gently, oh so gently started to rub it into the skin on my hands. I stung for a moment, though he soothed it quickly by blowing on my hands with care. But after the initial contact the sting faded. It smelled so nice. A bit medicinal but definitely sandalwood.

Apparently that’s what he’d gone out for. That ointment/lotion/whatever it is. He’d seen how tender my hands were (of course he had) and wanted to give them extra care. He’d apparently had to go across town just to get it. The post-christmas shoppers were already out in full swing gobbling up sales and crowding the streets.

I… he hates crowds. When we shop we specifically try to go out when there are less people when we can manage it. And dealing with post-holiday crowds. I know for a fact that he’s done his best to avoid that his whole life. And going all the way into town just to get me some hand cream. Just.

My heart.

I can’t handle it.

Even after the cream had been rubbed in with so much care, he kept holding my hands. Rubbing and massaging the parts where the skin was intact and a little up my wrists.

Eventually he stopped but I held his hands before he could pull them away so that I could place a kiss in thanks on his knuckles. When I looked up again he was staring at me. So close. So soft. So….

I pulled back with a cough that probably did nothing to hide my flaming cheeks and he let me. Was it wishful thinking that made me think I saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes?

I thanked him for always taking such good care of me. He told me there was no need for thanks between us.

I smiled at him again and he smiled back. He smiles so much easier now than he used to. At least when it’s just us.

Does that mean that it’s because of me? Am I helping him smile? I hope so.

#wei wuxian #wen yuan #lan sizhui #lan wangji #mo dao zushi #Long Post #(Modern AU!)

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chimswae · 4 years

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BTS Caretaker CH12

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 4,582

- Author Note:Late update again hmm ;( i appreciate your feedback and comment, just drop in my ASK BOX :)

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Chapter 12

“Seul, come here for a second” Hwasa whispered behind the counter signalling Seul to come over. Seul guffawed at Hwasa’s randomness, and quickly cleaned the table before making her way to Hwasa.

“What is wrong with you?” placing the tray on the counter neatly, Seul shot her friend a disbelief look.

Hwasa glanced over the counter to an area which Seul had a hard time to decipher at first, yet she followed her gaze mindlessly hoping it was not the usual prank that she pulled to get her revenge. Sitting at the corner, a young man in his early 20’s with his face fully covered up by his bucket hat. They could not see his eyes due to that but Seul could tell, he was immersed in his work.

Clenching onto his sketchbook while his free hand did wonder on the blank paper, his muscle flexed due to the intensity that he experienced at the moment. A small smile crept on his face, as he carefully gave a light touch on his character’s hair.

Pretty. He mentally praised the outcome.

“And..you are telling me because?” Seul tilted her head in confusion.

“Didn’t you notice? That guy came to our shop at least thrice a week, sit at the same corner, wearing a plain white tee or sometimes black with a bucket hat on top to complete his fashion. Don’t you find he is a little suspicious?”

“Mmm..and how is this related to us? He could be an aspiring artist, Hwasa. Look at the sketchbook in his hand, he must find this place gives him an inspiration. Stop being so negative for goodness sake” Seul scolded and rolled her eyes in return. Hwasa could be impossible sometimes, her hunch could be a little too fiction.

“The inspiration happens to be you Ji Seul. Hello, wake up girl! I saw how he looked at you” she retorted with protest.

Seul flinched with a disapproval frown “No, he doesn’t, stop imagining things. I can’t remember seeing him that frequent in our shop. Why are you so nosy!” she jabbed her arms with small force enough to annoy Hwasa.

“It is called being observant you foolish girl. Stop being gullible! He is crushing on you, I could tell! Believe me for, once will you?” Hwasa was being adamant especially when it comes to convincing Seul with her words.

“You are being ridiculous Hwasa. He is not crushing on anyone, can you please stop writing your own fiction story, thank you. Letting negativity consumes your already corrupted brain is not healthy, for your information” she pressed her lips into thin line. However, it would be a lie even after the little commotion that Hwasa cause, it didn’t trigger Seul’s curiosity. She found herself glancing at the male who seemed engross in his little world.

She shrugged off the thought away trying not to be mini Hwasa, that would be awful.

“Excuse you. It is you who being too positive. Stop seeing all the good things in people and for once start to doubt another human ugh. Not all of them are saint as you imagine!” she whined not liking the fact that her own best friend did not have her back on her.

“Okay Miss, this talk is pointless. Besides, that guy pays for his drink so let him be unless he is using this place for free just to hangout then we have the right to question his presence here. Now, mind your own business Hwasa, we have stakes of plate behind to be cleaned. Go go!” she gave her friend a light pat on her bum causing the latter to pout.

Taking a final glance at the man whom sat at the corner, their gaze lock without they realize. It surprised him as he quickly lowered his head with a small smile “Weird” Seul mutters at his weird antic.

I wonder when will I have the courage to talk you. He heaved a soft sigh while continue to steal secret glances at the hardworking girl. How her presence alone managed to take his breath away. It all started with a mere admiration, and as day passed he didn’t even realize why his heart will find its own way there.

She is an escape from the reality.

She is his muse.

Literally.

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Trudging to the kitchen as fast as lightning, his nose is greeted by the sweet smell of Jin’s cooking “COOKIES” Taehyung hollered with a goofy grin. Jin looked his shoulder eyeing the younger guy sternly “Do not touch it!” he warned.

“WHY?” he whined, sticking his lower lips out as an attempt for his infamous aegyo (acting cute).

“This is for the caretaker lad-Ahjumma” he corrected but Taehyung was quick to catch on. A sly grin could be seen across his face “Are you preparing this for the caretaker lady? Seul isn’t it?” he poked fun.

Jin frowned “I am just being nice since she kinda give me a good piece of advice that night, so I feel indebted” he tried to hide his flushed face from being seen, to react this way was super wrong. It was not like he liked her in that way. Weird.

“Are you sure it is just an advice? Did something happen between both of you which does not involve words of advice?” Taehyung poked the cookies with his finger trying to steal it away but only to be stopped by Jin.

He swatted his hand from touching the cookies and glared at Taehyung’s way “Dirty minded Taehyung, who taught you this? Namjoon?” the latter pouted again as if he’s innocent as charged. Well all he wanted was a piece of the cookie, but thrifty Jin seemed to only care about the caretaker lady.

“All I wanted was a piece of this yummy cookies, only to be called dirty taehyung this early making me sulky” dramatic Taehyung touched his chest indicating he was in pain.

“Do not be silly Kim Taehyung” Jin rolled his eyes getting used to Taehyung’s weird antic. He took a piece of fresh baked cookies from the oven and shoved it into Taehyung’s mouth. “There happy?” he jeered.

Taehyung gave him a thumb up and wink before skipping happily to the living room. Kids would be kids.

Jin looked around making sure there was no one taking a peek on what he was about to do, he pulled out a cute box and arranged the cookies accordingly with a genuine smile. It was just a simple act of gratitude, right? He did not outdo it, was he?

Finishing up the small token of appreciation for Seul, he left a simple thank you note on top of the box “I hope she likes it” biting his lower lips to surpass his excitement, Jin kept the box on the table hidden from his nosy members. If they happen to see this, he would get tease for the rest of his life.

----------------------

“What the heck Hoon, you are their fans and why am I being dragged into this illogical thing” Seul grumbled under her breath. His foolish brother had the audacity to make her attend BTS Puma Fansign just because he wanted to get that limited-edition winter jacket. In all honesty, she admired his passion in obtaining the jacket however hell man this is Bangtan thing and definitely not her cup of tea.

“How is it illogical when it is a Bangtan thing!” he was offended. What a true Army, clap.

Seul cringed “Because it is a Bangtan thing, stop acting like a fangirl”

Hoon argued “CAN’T A MALE FANGIRLING TOO? WOW SPEAKING OF BEING DOUBLE STANDARD” he guffawed cynically and continued “And there is something called fanboy for someone like me, thank you”

Seul shook her head while putting on her pink converse, she really needed to ignore his brother weird request from now on. Especially when it involved Bangtan. Persistence Hoon wont back away that easily, so he went to Seul side with his sad façade, prolly trying to impress Seul.

“Come on nuna, help me to get that winter edition jacket. I saved up my money for that, now because of my stupid speaking test. My plan to get the jacket burnt down to ashes” Hoon complained as if Seul was the reason why his early plan was doomed.

“For your information I have a better work to do rather than attending some weird fansign. Can’t you just get the jacket later on? They might put it up after the fansign, Ji Hoon! Why with the rush?” she retorted with a low scowl.

“Oh god, you are really oblivious, aren’t you? By the time they put it on display, everything will be wiped out by the Armys! Don’t you know the power of Army?”

Seul scrunched up her nose in utter disgust “Ew, you sounded so righteous trying to defend your favourite idol. But, power of Army? What I know is, it turns you into a pussy” Hoon gawked at Seul’s sassy mark. No one really could beat that foul mouth of hers.

Hoon sensed anger and hatred in Seul’s tone, even worse than before. He knew Seul did listen to Bangtan songs even though it was not to the extent of fangirling yet back then before she started this caretaking job, she did not sound as salty as now. What exactly happened to change her into some kind of typical k-netz whom sometimes only know how to condemn everything that the idols do.

He pinched the bridge of his nose while digesting his sister’s rude demeanour “Okay, nuna. Let me put every piece together first. What exactly happened at work causing you to act this way? As far as I am concerned the worst thing that you ever said to Bangtan was Jungkook hyung is a lazy bum” he frowned.

“Not this Bangtan talk again Ji Hoon. Look I am running late so can we just drop this thing because their life is not my problem. Alright?” she stood up, patting her jeans lightly and made her way to the front door only to be stopped by Hoon.

“WHAT NOW!” she hissed angrily.

“Say yes to the Puma fansign first then I am letting you go!”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nuna please just this one! It is important”

“My job is important too and I have stomach to feed, get out of my way before I smack your soul out of your body. Go study and stop fangirling over Bangtan. Get a life Hoon” her brows knitted together into a deep frown.

“Just this one fansign please” Hoon threw his arms around her neck, basically clinging onto Seul for his dear life “I promise I will not ask anything irrelevant after this if you just help me to get the winter jacket” he begged with his puppy eyes.

“You are so annoying” Seul bit her lower lips trying to fall for Hoon’s request. She did not think meeting Bangtan members especially Yoongi and Jimin would be a good idea. Plus, to add to the suffering that she experienced, Jin was in the equation too. One fansign would not hurt right? They would not recognize her if she hid her face. That was face mask for!

Inhaling a deep breath, Seul finally gave in “Fine, just this fansign” Hoon hopped happily, squishing her sister into a super tight hug. He could be a little childish sometimes.

“I LOVE YOU NUNA SO MUCH” she felt a moist friction against her cheeks. Not a kiss Ji Hoon. Not a kiss, this grossed her out.

“Okay I am out from here, get off me” using her strength she pushed Hoon off her, so she could start walking and started her day already. She exited her apartment while rolling her eyes, then Hoon hollered at the back “It is today at 6! I will wire you the money and text the detail! Oh nuna! Get me the grey jacket thank you!” she sighed tiredly.

Thankfully, it was Saturday, so she didn’t have to tend Bangtan’s dorm. Much to her annoyance, she couldn’t imagine running around from one place to another just because of Hoon silly request. Unimportant much.

--------------------

Seul left earlier than she did to attend Hoon’s BTS Puma Fansign however to her dismay, she was stuck in traffic causing her to arrive 30 minutes later than the actual event. Another shitty thing happened after another, when she was not allowed to enter the venue with her face mask. What was the big deal again? She then, followed the rule anyways as much as she hated it since she already promised Hoon to get him that dreamy winter jacket of his.

She was amazed by the settings and by the time she entered the small exhibition room, fans had already lined up for the fansign. Even from afar, she could see the members were already in their seat getting busy with their fanservices. Some members were entertaining the fans on the floor with cameras, must be their fansites, Seul mumbled under her breath.

Without her facemask, she felt so exposed to danger especially that exact two members whom already well aware of her existence. Seul cussed in her head not liking this one bit, one of the staffs came to her demanded her to be in line. Now this was a real drill.

She had to pretend as if nothing happened then and ignored those two completely. What was the worse thing they could do in public? Ji Seul everything will be fine, just smile. She spoke to Hoon earlier about the ideas of getting the winter jacket only and to ditch the fansign, but that little filthy creature wanted Bangtan’s autograph on the poster too. What a brat.

Thirty minutes passed yet there was no sign of Bangtan members in front of her, there were about 20 fans before her turn. This by far the craziest thing that she ever did for someone named Hoon. It would not happen again, she will make sure that.

Seul almost dozed off whilst waiting and of course she paid no attention to the fans around her and her surroundings. All she cared was to end this thing instantly “My god why am I doing this” she rubbed her sleepy eyes, yawning away to ease the sleepiness in her.

Getting bored standing in line like a fool, her eyes wander around watching the excited fans whenever their favourite members reacted to their questions. Idols really are the best actors of the century, weren’t they tired? Seul still could not understand a fangirl’s life, the closest would be her brother.

Her eyes were fixated on Jin, looking all glee and joyful with his fans. If and only that fan knew the real struggle behind smiley Jin, she sighed. The corner of her lips was tugged into a small smile upon witnessing Jin’s passion and his kindness with every fan who come to greet him a simple hello. He is a nice guy, she mentally complimented.

Seul felt a gaze on her as she shifted when the line moved forward, that weird feeling again. Jimin’s eyes were on her direction making Seul melted under his strong gaze. People might think he was actually staring into the lens, but no.

Jimin had his eyes on that one familiar figure not far from where he sat “Ji Seul..” he mumbled lowly not wanting to garner any misunderstanding from the fans and members.

Shoot, he knew me. Screw it. Seul turned her body to other side, steadying her heavy breathing. This won’t do, she must stay calm and act like nothing happen. This is their workplace, they should be professional anyway.

Jimin’s playful smile was slowly replaced by a genuine one as his attention now was on the fan in front of him. He could not wait until Seul’s turn came, there were a lot of things to ask.

On the other side, there was another person on stage whom seemed as surprised as Jimin, his beautiful lips were perfectly shaped into the most breath-taking smile which could blow any heart away ‘It is her. The lady from the tea shop’ he could not believe what’s in front of him.

His muse is there. He did not know she’s a fan well except her phone ringtone indicated she might be a possible fan, but to see her stood there in her casual clothes shook his heart.

She looked beautiful as always.

He returned his attention back to the audience and the members whom seemed too engross in doing something per requested. Guess, he finally had a chance to talk to her even for a short while in a bit.

-----------------

After waiting for another twenty minutes, her turn to be entertained finally here. Well not exactly entertained, she was doing it for brat Hoon. Deep down inside, she was as nervous as other fans, except she really hated the attention from the public. Being in public alone in this kind of event pressured her to be cautious of her surrounding even more.

Jung Hoseok was the first member who greeted her cheerfully, it baffled Seul to see energetic Hoseok. He was indeed the real sunshine of the group, never once she caught him frowning or sighing. It was incredible how he was able to maintain that face whole day.

“Your name?” Hoseok asked cheerfully looking into Seul’s eyes intensely. Seul felt her cheeks getting hot at this unnecessary fanservice, not like she’s a fan of them. God, she hated this feeling the most.

“Urm… Se-I mean Hoon” she mumbled nervously.

Hoseok tilted his head while blinking his stupidly cute round eyes “Hoon?” he didn’t sound convinced at first considering the name was too manly for a girl like her “Is this your first time?” he inquired.

“Mmm.. yes.. actually this is for my brother. He is a fan, but he couldn’t make it to the fansign” she cleared her throat in hope she didn’t sound too nasal.

His mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape with a soft nod “Say hi to your brother then, Hoon’s sister” Seul chuckled at his cheekiness. For an odd reason, his smile warmth her heart and for goodness sake Jung Hoseok is beautiful. His honey skin is everything, okay enough complimenting.

Seul shifted to other side to meet the second Bangtan’s members, she saw him before but couldn’t really call his name. He had a cute smile plastered across his face, as he scrunched up his nose cutely making Seul froze in her spot “Hi.. how are you? I like your smile by the way..” his voice was holly deep and sexy.

That was random as hell. What is with her smile again?

She turned fifty shades of red at the compliment “F..ine.. I guess? Mmm..thank you?” Seul wanted to force the word out from his mouth but only to be stopped by the person beside him, Park Jimin.

“Taehyunggie you are flattering her, don’t worry let me take it from here” Jimin slipped his hand in Seul’s cold one, pulling her in front of him. Seul could hear Taehyung guy whines at the background claiming Jimin stole his fan away, however to Seul, she was too preoccupied by Jimin’s presence.

How could a guy that she encountered few weeks ago could be this beautiful? I mean come on, Jimin was the real definition of living prince.

“Fancy to see you here again, Ji Seul-ssi” he caressed his thumb over her skin in circular motion whilst his other hand signed the poster in front of him. Ji Seul chose to remain silent, like what else she could say to this Park Jimin guy.

“I thought you were not a fan” he smug playfully making his eyes shrunk in process.

“Am not” Seul blurted with a long sigh. This whole thing was too much for her heart to handle, especially with Jimin stroking her skin as if she’s his lover. Was he this affectionate with his fans? Crazy.

Jimin bit his lower lips enjoying the scene in front of him, he had the upper hand now. It was rather interesting to see her overreact to his little touch “So, why are you here? Do you like someone from Bangtan?” he pried answers from the flustered girl.

“Well, I don’t exactly have one” Seul wanted to pull her hand away from Jimin’s grasp but did not want to appear rude. Another thing was that she did not want to cause any rumours, so she just played along until she found the perfect chance to just end this.

She started to break a cold sweat, this staring contest would not be over until she came up with answers, so she shut her eyes together and blurted out the first name that came into her mind “It is Suga” she gawked at her own answers.

Hearing his name being called Yoongi who sat three seats away from Jimin turned his head to Jimin’s direction, he too could not believe what he just saw. Did he really see it right? Ji Seul, their caretaker was there all along at the fansign.

Jimin face felt yet he managed to cover it up with the sweetest smile ever “Oh, guess you are looking forward to your meeting with Hyung” he winked. Seul looked away, finally able to pull her shaking hand away from his strong grip “It is nice meeting you Jimin-ssi” with that Seul quickly moved to the person beside Jimin.

The wise leader had been assessing the whole situation and he was not a fool though. He knew the way how Jimin and Suga exchanged a meaningful look, he knew the two members and the girl in front of him knew each other. Could it be the infamous caretaker lady that those two bragged before?

“Are you alright?” he saw how the girl broke into cold sweat, Seul was fiddling with the hem of her shirt easing the tense that she felt in her muscle.

Seul smiled politely “I am okay.. Thank you for asking” Namjoon’s dimple smile seemed to calm down her racing heart at least. It didn’t last long when Namjoon leaned over the table, dabbing Seul’s forehead with his sleeve.

Squeals after squeals could be heard from every corner making Seul flustered in her stance, what in the world just happened. Her body paralyzed at this small gesture and the proximity killed her inside “Don’t be nervous even this is your first time. You are doing great” Kim Namjoon was a real gentleman.

Seul chewed her lower lips, hiding her now crimson red face from Namjoon “Thank you…Good urm luck in anything you do and eat well I guess” he returned to his seat with a wide grin. Before Seul moved to the next member, Namjoon gave a light pat on her head and whispered in her ears “I remember you, glad to see you again caretaker agashii” he nodded with nose scrunched up revealing his dimple once again.

That is so not healthy. Seul chuckled bitterly and faced another unfamiliar face in front of him, guess she really need to study hard when it came to their names.

“Hello…Urm…?” Seul paused for a moment scrutinizing Jungkook’s face, rummaging through her memories. What was his name again? She cursed in her head.

“Jungkook..Jeon Jungkook.. You really are not a fan, you seem to like Suga hyung more than anything” Jungkook shook his head with a light chuckle. God, even his small laugh alone sounded melodious.

Of course, he is the Jeon Jungkook. Everyone knew he is the Jeon Jungkook, except Seul who’s still struggling with BTS’s members name in her head. She kept on messing the same name all over again except few members that left a great impression on her before like Yoongi, Jimin, Jin and Namjoon. Those are the only members that she accidentally bumped into so far.

“I am sorry Jungkook-ssi. Just a little urm… nervous I guess. The words just could not get out from my mouth” Seul sighed deeply.

“It is okay I am joking. You seem a little tense, calm down a little” he teased. Jungkook’s bunny smile managed to make her laugh a little despite the sticky situation that she faced a moment ago, now she felt a burden being lifted off her shoulder. Jungkook and Seul chattered for few more minutes before they ended with a shy hi-five as the staffs motioned Seul to move quickly not hogging the line.

Seul apologized and moved to the second last member, the eldest in the group, Kim Seokjin. Only god knew how uncomfortable she was conversing with Jungkook earlier, when she could eventually sense Jin’s deep gaze on her. It ripped out her sanity.

The corner of her eyes caught a glance of Yoongi whom sat the end of the table with a poker face, he was ignoring her whilst paying his attention on the fans at the audience seat. His voice alone was a major distraction to her innocent ears.

“So is it true Yoongi is your favourite member?” Jin’s soft voice diverted her attention to him instead. He found herself envied Yoongi, and trying to digest the ridiculousness. Wasn’t she supposed to loathe him instead since the things happened between the two aint pretty.

“Pardon?”

“I said do you like Yoongi?”

“………”

“Should I take that as a yes?”

“……..”

There was another silence between them. She had been repeating this question all over again in her head, what more she could say?

“Well, I wish it could be me instead. Don’t you think Yoongi doesn’t deserve your love” he joked causing the other guy to kick his calf under the table. He grinded his teeth together giving the older guy a warning glare.

“You may become one, in the future” Seul smiled, thanking Jin before shifting herself to Yoongi. Jin was in dazed upon hearing her response, Seul is attractive in his eyes. Biting his tongue down, he wished to see Seul again soon.

If and only she could skip Yoongi, she would gladly do that. Upon his eyes fell on Seul, he slouched forward examining the girl’s face so intensely that cause everyone in the audience fell silence in their seat.

Yoongi was known to be less affectionate with his fans in comparison to other members like the maknae line. But, there were rare occasion whereby he would shake hand casually with his fans. Likewise, with Seul he felt the urge to tease her even more than that.

Breaking his usual cold and cool demeanour, Yoongi cups her cheeks gazing into her eyes deeply “I told you we will meet again Mrs Hwang’s daughter” he murmured lowly careful someone might hear him.

“DID YOU SEE THAT?”

“DID MIN YOONGI JUST-“

“WOW, THAT IS RARE”

The faint voices behind her was just another voice that she had completely filtered from her memory. Other members took the moment to glance over at their side to witness the commotion, they were weirded out by Yoongi sudden change of character. How unusual.

“What are you doing” Seul hissed under her sharp breath. She didn’t fancy this kind of thing especially when Yoongi was the one who initiated the first move.

Yoongi smiled adorably “Being friendly” he chuckled, as his hand moved to the tuck the strand of hair behind her ears. He continued to give her an affectionate look, turning Seul into a real mess. For pete’s sake, she really hated Min Yoongi. Why he even exists?

“Didn’t know that you actually like me?”

“I don’t”

“Liar”

“I am not”

“Prove it”

“Do I need to kiss you and ruin your career then only you trust me”

“Oh, that will only affect you. I will just announce to the world you are my girl, as simple as that”

“YOU WONT DARE!”

“TRY ME”

“FUCK YOU MIN YOONGI”

“Only if you invite me to your bed”

“YOU ARE ANNOYING”

“Thank you”

Their banter was done under the radar, no one could hear them except Kim Seokjin, but he decided not to butt in and let them be. He was still dead curious on the inside, just how close these two are? They seem to have a very friendly relationship in his eyes.

Yoongi leaned dangerously close to her face before releasing her completely “See you around, Mrs Hwang’s daughter” he gave her one final wink. Grumpily, Seul got up descended from the stage with red face. The result of her random banter with Yoongi caused her to be this sensitive.

Just wait, I will poison you in your sleep. Clenching her fist together, Seul refused to look back though he knew Yoongi’s eyes never left her until she disappeared from his vicinity.

Did she leave already? The guy peered up scanning the area to find a glimpse of Seul in the audience. He flinches as he failed to catch Seul face anywhere in the area, then he slumped in his seat.

I will just visit her at the shop. He smiled to himself.

#bts #btsfanfic #bts fanfiction #bts idol au #bts series #yoongi x oc #jin x oc #min yoongi x oc #suga x oc #jungkook x oc #bts x oc #bts romance #bts fluff #yoongi fluff #jungkook romance #btscaretaker

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

Text

Ronnie & Joe

Ronnie: [is gonna rock up late despite literally living with Charlie so enjoy the entrance everybody]

Joe: [when you weren’t invited but still gonna show up like you have somewhere better to be, love that for you, the effort we’ve not gone to because we live here so it’s kinda okay but not really Joseph, also I imagine kinda shook she ended up showing]

Ronnie: [likewise in the sense that she dresses the same everywhere she goes unless it’s a job interview or court appearance lol but we know she looks good if you’re Joseph and into it, I imagine her zoning in on Jamie immediately like who the fuck is this and then oh I’ve heard nothing about you kinda energy soz gal]

Joe: [rude but not untrue in this case, at least Charlie can make it seem like you’re joking and Joe can go get you a drink like soz this is all we have energy ‘cos in jokes]

Ronnie: [I highly doubt they have enough seats around that table so I also imagine her dragging up something to sit on like yeah I’m here to stay bitches and drinking Joe’s drink while he’s gone as a throwback to when she did when they met at that gig and cos we’re obvs claiming him LOL]

Joe: [we know the food is gonna be studenty anyway so having smaller portions won’t kill any of us lmao, just dying at how shocked Sophie is having to conceal she is, host on queen, boring boyfriend having no opinions of course]

Ronnie: [don’t worry gal depending how much of a jealous rage we get into we probably won’t be eating it so you’ll still have brownies left, her face would be iconic and I totally picture Marc on his phone the entire time because Paul used to do that when he was with Trace]

Joe: [giving nothing to this bizarre situation, too real, Charlie and Sophie holding this together, soz guys, Joe jus amused af, do we sit opposite or next to hmm]

Ronnie: [read that as soz gays, ILY mum & dad, I think he needs to sit opposite Jamie so that she can accuse them of eye fucking each other or whatever so probably next to]

Joe: [okay yes gather ‘round everyone]

Ronnie: she lives here

Joe: yeah I told you, Silent Bob’s gf

Ronnie: you said he had a bitch not shes been chained to the radiator since youse lot moved in

Joe: maybe that’s his secret

Ronnie: whens he letting you have your go

Joe: got my own radiator you can have a go on when this is over

Joe: not to brag or nothing

Ronnie: wont be over til the fat flatmate sings & the other one sucking you off while her & mariah duet and the boyfriend pretends he aint watching youse instead is fuck all to brag about

Joe: be lucky if it got close to that level of mildly interesting

Joe: where are you in all this then

Ronnie: under the sink looking for drain cleaner or whatever else i can drink

Joe: why do you get to have all the fun?

Ronnie: i dont waste my time asking bullshit questions

Joe: how are we gonna waste our time

Ronnie: im gonna kill your shared girlfriend & youre gonna cry about it

Joe: I don’t think I am

Joe: no amount of tragedy is gonna breakthrough the chemical fog

Ronnie: you would if you could

Joe: [🙄 at her]

Ronnie: [tips however much is left of her drink into his lap not at all accidentally but we know Charlie and Soph will pretend it was]

Joe: [whip them off to go get changed boy]

Ronnie: [when you wanna follow him but you just gotta glare instead]

Joe: [probably taking whatever we’ve got in to make this go easier, ‘scuse us, so much missing out]

Ronnie: [you know she turned up already on something so do what you gotta do Joseph]

Joe: [Jamie should be talking to you about uni things thus alienating everyone else a lil ‘cos that is a bit rude and will annoy you gal]

Ronnie: [fully just opening up a wound over here literally cos she was already jealous but did not realise they had this much shit in common or anything in common actually so we’re just livid and bleeding]

Joe: [Sophie just running with the kitchen roll like omg do we have bandages guys like oh babe you truly only mean well, Charlie just giving the can you not looks of it all, Joe just jealous because we’ve obviously got our long sleeves]

Ronnie: [a spoken out loud fuck you at everyone but mainly Joe as we go to the bathroom to not deal with this but instead evoke the energy of when Mae downed that mouthwash because she definitely would and also go through the cabinets for anything sharp obvs]

Joe: [at least you can go under the guise of checking on her but really you’re just seeing what she’s doing]

Ronnie: [1000% have not locked the door because we wanted him to follow us but that won’t stop her telling him to get out because walking contradiction forever]

Joe: [locks it behind him in response]

Ronnie: [the most intense glare in response because could not be more livid rn]

Joe: [grabbing wherever the wound is like we’re gonna kiss it better or something like Soph for a casual bit of blood drinking]

Ronnie: [obviously have to push him away really hard because we’re obviously really into it and excuse you boy we’re trying to be angry and hate you, soz to all the flatmates when you hear that crashing about]

Joe: [lmao this tiny bathroom getting destroyed, steady yourself and her despite that clearly not being what she wants right now, roll up a sleeve ‘you never did the X’]

Ronnie: [the glorious visual of trying to get past him to leave/push him away again at the same time in a small space so you just end up pressed up against each other and the door making eye contact and it’s hot af ‘you never took me anywhere’]

Joe: [‘so let me’ do you mean let’s get out of here or in a saucy way either or you skinny as hell girl so if you not really trying to leave it’s easy not to let you]

Ronnie: [‘she’ll let you’ because we’re not just dropping this even if we want to]

Joe: [‘who?’ like an oblivious boy ‘cos clearly not where our head is]

Ronnie: [a really vicious read of Jamie based on what we’re learned this evening that I’m not gonna do because I am not that mean but it’s obvious it’s her and not Sophie we’re talking about, hope you don’t hear us gal]

Joe: [‘I’m not interested’ in every sense right now ‘and you know that, stop pissing about’]

Ronnie: [‘wasn’t any other cunt round the table hanging on her every fucking word, I know that’ because that was blatant Jamie]

Joe: [‘I can’t help it that her fella’s an accountant’ what do you do Marc, do any of us know lol, shrugs ‘we go to the same school, that’s it’ and a look like whatever the fuck this is is clearly more]

Ronnie: [she would wanna lol but we can’t because still mad ‘that’s it?’ not actually a question though more like you better be telling the truth boy ‘why the fuck have you never told me about her then?’]

Joe: [‘I thought I had when I said he had a girlfriend’ not not a lie ‘none of them are what I want to talk about, that’s it’]

Ronnie: [‘you were thinking with this’ grabbing his dick when we say so ‘that’s it’ cos even if that was true Joseph we shade the rest of the flatmates often and you know damn well we love doing it]

Joe: [shakes head even though we are very clearly into that ‘she’s no Soph’ like it wouldn’t be as funny soz]

Ronnie: [‘is right’ like yeah I know you actually seriously wanna get with her, and moving away but not to leave but to pick back up whatever implement we were gonna hurt ourselves with before he came in but didn’t get chance to because we’re genuinely upset]

Joe: [literally putting ourselves in front of it like no ‘Ronnie’ like I don’t know how you’re going to even put it into words boy so it’s mainly a !!! look]

Ronnie: [a look that starts out like don’t try and stop me/fuck you but turns into !! when his does like say something/do something if you mean it]

Joe: [got to go in and kiss you whilst making her push whatever she was gonna use on herself into him, now or never, enjoy the tension finally getting released]

Ronnie: [obviously we’re kissing you back so we all know what’s gonna happen next lol, soz flatmates I really hope you can’t hear anything, especially Charlie cos you actually know they’re related]

Joe: [it is not a big flat so keep quiet, just think he’s comforting her for all this time or what, god bless]

Ronnie: [she would be trying to keep quiet but not for y’all more so he thinks she’s unimpressed/not that into it but that would literally last all of a second because she’s obviously very into it]

Joe: [the levels you aren’t gonna wanna go back in but can’t be seen as being romantic lads]

Ronnie: [I could easily have her leave if we want though because it’s a fact that she doesn’t wanna be here and everyone would be relieved except Joseph]

Joe: [that probably makes sense, honestly, and you’ve freaked them all out, as was the point]

Ronnie: [and lbr you’ve freaked yourselves out with how good that hook up was too so]

Joe: [just go hide in your room like you’re very taxed by that in an acceptable way boy]

Ronnie: [god knows where you’re gonna go gal but please don’t OD again like you literally did in Margate no time ago]

Joe: [the headfuckery]

Ronnie: [poor Charlie just like UMMM WTF cos she must look bad even for her rn and we’ve behaved terribly and then literally legged it so]

Joe: [thank god you’re such a natural party go-er so you can make up some excuse to put them all at relative ease but yeah, for sure like excuse me]

Ronnie: [might be fun to do a convo between them when we’re done with this one]

Joe: [I’m down even though I really haven’t used him yet, I’ll give it a go]

Ronnie: [yeah it’s been forever since we did the group chats with them and Bronson and Bea it feels like another life, I can send you the convo we did where she told him she met Joe if you like cos I re-read that the other day and it was pretty good]

Ronnie: [but the real question is who’s gonna break first and start a convo and how long are we leaving it?]

Joe: [please do ‘cos did not realize we’d done that tbh]

Joe: [I could make a case for either of them, him to prove he meant it as he left it last time but her so she can’t automatically be on the ‘it meant nothing’ total defensive hmm]

Joe: [some hours later when the party is over, or could be]

Joe: Charlie was going pub, he’s left here though

Ronnie: [even later because whatever she’s doing she’s messy and can’t reply to the extent that she doesn’t need to because he won’t be expecting her to and yet here we are]

Ronnie: did whitney ask you to pass it on to us cos hes still disappointed like

Joe: couldn’t say

Joe: just letting you know that you’ll have a free gaff for a while longer

Ronnie: where have i chucked the other one for the sake of this free gaff in your mind mckenna

Joe: alright, free rooms better than fuck all

Ronnie: its his emmy oggie i aint there either

Joe: anywhere good?

Ronnie: compared to what

Joe: established it’s no brag compared to tonight

Ronnie: not gonna stop you comparing me & her

Joe: compare to what?

Joe: pleasantries over cocopops

Ronnie: youll be interested in eating her out now youve got what you wanted off me

Ronnie: 9 is easier to carve than an 8 and you wont look like youre trying to copy the infinity sign one of your other exes wouldve got inked on her

Joe: it’s not remotely the fucking same

Joe: if I was arsed about getting my numbers up there’s millions of girls in this city I could hit up before you

Ronnie: yeah youre not related to any of em and theyd have less clue how to shoot up than you do

Joe: even if the related bit was ringing 100% true, you’re the only user in town now?

Joe: you don’t have to pervert it when it already was

Ronnie: youre already romanticising it like a fucking 13 year old so yeah i do cause one of us has to get real

Joe: you reckon I’m so okay with it just because I can admit I wanted it

Joe: who do you reckon you’re lying to like I weren’t there

Ronnie: who do you reckon youre talking to like i didnt fucking leave you there for a reason

Joe: Fuck off

Ronnie: i did

Joe: for someone who reckons they’re so open, you chat so much shit

Ronnie: open to what soft lad infection

Joe: scars and trackmarks on your sleeve

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: you didn’t miss much

Ronnie: no shit you didnt just invite me cause you wanted to fuck me

Ronnie: can do that anywhere

Joe: yeah and you didn’t just wanna come to make Soph cry, like

Ronnie: i owed you

Joe: get it off your to-do list then

Joe: well done

Ronnie: stop crying youll never look as ugly as horse girl doing it or go for as long as her

Joe: you love her, we all 👀

Ronnie: i said shut up

Joe: no, you say something that’s not stupid

Ronnie: what for fucks sake

Ronnie: what did you reckon id say when you started chatting shit like nothing happened

Joe: alright, I don’t know

Joe: it happened, right

Ronnie: you werent hallucinating

Joe: nothing that makes that happen in the bathroom cupboard

Joe: I don’t regret it, I know that

Ronnie: meant to be made up to hear it am i

Joe: nah, probably not

Joe: but you wanted me to talk about it so I am

Ronnie: i wanted you to take the fucking hint when i legged it as soon as

Joe: you could’ve blocked me, so

Joe: pardon me for not taking it that seriously

Ronnie: not your crazy ex & i couldnt deny you your bullshit heroics

Ronnie: mary aint carrying me anywhere and i know how bad you wanna see me turn blue

Joe: you like having a stalker, is what you mean

Ronnie: block me and get your whore flatmate to tell you what she likes about you

Ronnie: weve established i aint got the talent to sing no cunts praises

Joe: we’ve established I’m not interested in that

Ronnie: cause you want me to tell you how smart you are at fucking me instead of beat the shit out of you

Ronnie: it wont last

Joe: familys forever, sis

Ronnie: not to your ma baby

Ronnie: did i look enough like her for you

Joe: what do you reckon

Joe: your theory, not mine

Ronnie: mustve youve still not fucked off

Joe: you’ve got room for another face tat or two

Ronnie: go do that then

Joe: you can leave out the yes sir

Joe: not my fantasy

Ronnie: no shit like youve been my bitch since you hit send on facebook

Joe: 😂

Joe: I’ve been worse

Ronnie: you trying to turn me on or what its a bit late for it

Joe: just the once, alright

Joe: bit cliche but probably for the best considering

Joe: very sensible of you

Ronnie: cliche that my da didnt stick around long enough for his side of the family to properly cut or sew me up so ive gotta regret not getting chance to put a razor blade inside me before you 💔

Ronnie: now youre gonna reckon i care youve said the once ll do when i just hate you & hate how you fuck even more

Joe: Could’ve said it was about as much fun as

Joe: it’s alright

Joe: both confused, clearly

Ronnie: youre not confused youre fucking smug

Joe: hardly another achievement for the fridge door

Joe: what’s to be smug about

Ronnie: probably for the best i dont answer that if thats how you feel

Joe: come on

Joe: aside from proving you were full of shit about not wanting to as well

Ronnie: fuck you

Joe: you don’t want me to say how I really feel

Ronnie: making me cum earlier dont mean you know what i want now

Joe: right, you want me to declare my love so you get more out of telling me to fuck off, that’s more like it

Ronnie: do i fuck

Joe: then what do you want

Ronnie: like you give the slightest shit

Joe: I do too

Ronnie: no you dont

Joe: I fucking do

Joe: [prove it in a way only y’all would, carve her name or something]

Ronnie: [send him your own pics of the bite marks you’re covered in which is a self harming thing you’ve not done since you were a kid because it’s been a headfuck every second since you two met and we’re not coping honey]

Joe: you hungry?

Joe: you didn’t eat fuck all, I mean

Joe: could get something not dubiously prepared by Soph

Ronnie: hungry as you are funny

Joe: I weren’t trying to be

Joe: on the spectrum, or whatever you said

Ronnie: you wish you had the excuse or the musical prodigy status

Joe: 💔 about that genuinely

Joe: just a dickhead

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: I don’t know what to say

Joe: there’s no point saying I’m sorry

Ronnie: no point is right youre not sorry

Joe: nah

Joe: it’d be lovely for you if I’d found you and you were fine

Joe: but like you said, it ain’t about me or her, it’s about loads of shit and you clearly weren’t so

Joe: just seems pointless

Ronnie: im made up you finally got your head round it

Joe: Yeah well, I didn’t tell you I was a good person

Joe: don’t mean I don’t give no fucks, just ‘cos I ain’t trying to save you

Ronnie: you keep telling me you aint like it matters to me who you are

Joe: yeah, it doesn’t in why you’re fucked

Joe: but what do you want from me

Ronnie: its your fucking fault im like this climbing the walls same as when i was a kid

Joe: yeah ‘cos you were doing really great before weren’t ya

Ronnie: all you give a fuck about is letting yourself off the fucking hook

Joe: Blame me then what does it change

Joe: do something about it other than fucking yourself up, I don’t care

Ronnie: stop lying that youre bothered if your only answer to me losing my mind is that i was before

Joe: I can’t help you

Joe: If you thought I could, though why the fuck you would

Joe: then I am sorry

Ronnie: 💔🖕

Joe: I’ve got my own problems

Joe: if I had any solutions, I’d light ‘em up and shoot them into myself first, naturally

Ronnie: youve got a solution i gave it to you

Ronnie: why the fuck would you make me feel something

Joe: Selfishness

Joe: pure and simple

Ronnie: on your way to a grown up habit im dead proud

Joe: what more could I want

Ronnie: that to scab over seeing as youve finally admitted its bullshit

Joe: I still think about you constantly

Joe: I still want to know everything about you

Joe: I’d rot with you

Ronnie: youve got your own problems to think about

Joe: yeah, and that’s hell

Joe: I’ve done plenty of that

Ronnie: yeah and youve got your escape

Joe: take yours

Joe: can have plan bs and cs even if a is the best

Ronnie: youre the kid who tells the rest to jump off a bridge

Ronnie: cute

Joe: you’re implying I wouldn’t and all

Ronnie: i dont give a shit what you do but i aint giving you the satisfaction of being the last fuck i ever had

Ronnie: youd cling to life long enough to write a pathetic song about it

Joe: that’s the nicest thing you’ve said

Joe: which is saying something ‘cos you’re so sweet, like

Ronnie: youre welcome

Joe: I’ll do a Dylan style ballad about all your 👼🏼 deeds

Ronnie: thats the biggest turn off out of everything youve ever said or done

Joe: thank god, you’re insatiable 😏

Ronnie: once you said

Joe: not for my benefit

Ronnie: its all only for your benefit remember

Joe: if that were true you’d still be here

Ronnie: if it was true i could be

Joe: come back

Ronnie: cant ive got a face tat to get done

Joe: I understand

Joe: my art isn’t there yet

Joe: won’t ruin your beauty

Ronnie: go ed and chuck yourself off a bridge you dont have to wait for me to boot your door in & do you in for chatting shit

Joe: well I am already devvo I’m not a prodigy so yeah, add lack of a steady hand to the list of failures

Joe: probably the meds

Joe: you know being poetic is all I do, why have we downgraded it to chatting shit 💔

Ronnie: why are you calling me beautiful when you could write it in your suicide note for your ma theres your downgrade

Joe: you’re too romantic for your own good

Joe: I wouldn’t be writing a note, sorry to dash your illusions

Ronnie: not me saying i get you mckenna thats your delusion

Ronnie: what are you gonna draw on me then

Joe: you do but it’s more fun to take the piss and pretend you don’t so

Joe: That is the question

Joe: won’t brand you, don’t worry

Ronnie: if i dont want it ill cut it out no pressure

Joe: it’s just skin right

Ronnie: yeah

Joe: how olds your oldest scar

Ronnie: older than you

Joe: what did you do

Ronnie: i used to take headbanging literally

Joe: ah, the floor never saw you coming, yeah

Joe: I have a head scar too [cos he either does or did on the stalker show idk but there we go with a photo like she probably knows hun]

Ronnie: [I just imagine her smiling to herself like yeah I know nerd]

Ronnie: cant both be poets had to express myself somehow before i pushed a safety pin through my cheek

Joe: that explains the permanent 😾

Joe: fucked the muscles, like

Ronnie: your shit jokes do

Joe: it was always easier to just start fights to get hurt

Joe: when I was a kid

Joe: though you work out ways to be sneaky fast, if you have to

Ronnie: they didnt wanna fight me

Joe: everyday sexism strikes again

Ronnie: fuck off not cos im a girl

Joe: why then

Ronnie: wouldnt be me getting hurt and if i was i didnt care

Ronnie: all those mental problems you told that call centre cunt about like

Joe: ‘course you were too proud to make it count

Joe: have to let them get some punches in or there was no point, yeah

Ronnie: no point in fitz flouncing in either fun though

Joe: true

Joe: I’ve got a brother and all, I remember what it’s like

Ronnie: scraps never went far enough

Joe: yeah

Joe: most kids aren’t that psycho

Ronnie: 💔

Joe: being misunderstood served me so well for the whole musician thing so whatever, I guess

Ronnie: i mightve bothered keeping some of my bastards about if they were guaranteed nutters thatd serve you well

Joe: you’d get your own room then, like

Joe: even if you had to pack them to the rafters

Ronnie: for a stalker youre dead concerned about my privacy

Joe: nah, ‘course not

Joe: I’d rather have a place to do the gear without the possibility of Soph or Charlie 🥺ing at us obvs, nothing but selfishness

Ronnie: theres loads of places

Joe: you can show me

Ronnie: is she there now she can let me in

Joe: no idea

Joe: their room is near the door, makes sense they’d be your first victims

Ronnie: youre too selfish to get off your arse and do it

Joe: if you’re coming I’ll carry you in myself, you know that

Ronnie: ill be there and youll still be going on about what youre gonna do

Ronnie: no wonder the other kids kept smacking you

Joe: yeah, all mouth me, deffo what I was known for

Joe: not a euphemism and I don’t think they were wishing it was but who knows

Ronnie: you sure you dont want charlie giving you the eye

Ronnie: how it sounds

Joe: I’m alright, tah

Joe: pretty sure he’s over it now I’m enabling you

Ronnie: hes over everything thats not horse girls from kent but reckons the fucking lost causes are us

Joe: He clearly just gives a shit about appearances

Joe: looking nice, polite

Joe: they’ll never speak again, like

Ronnie: forget him

Ronnie: open the door

Joe: [do that boy]

Ronnie: [boop his little head scar as you come in like oh there it is]

Joe: [‘s’not even a good story’ and producing some takeaway moment from the kitchen as you go through ‘cos the dinner party was not heavy on the dinner bit]

Ronnie: [a look like ffs because people caring in any way ew no but we are gonna eat it because probably haven't since that Margate moment]

Joe: [shrugging like bitch I’m hungry as we tuck in, obviously]

Ronnie: [kick him while you've still got your big boots on but playfully not aggressively]

Joe: [😏 but in a more genuine way than that cocky face looks, I am vibing Chinese not that that matters but there we go]

Ronnie: [weirdly I also thought that maybe because it's one of the grossest haha but yeah eat your food lads]

Joe: [greasy greasy goodness, love the subtle shade if any of them come out for a cuppa or whatever like oh hello again lol]

Ronnie: [I hope it's oblivious Marc just living his life]

Joe: [that’d be most amusing, unbothered, casually]

Ronnie: [I just imagine them doing stuff to try and make him notice like when people stack stuff on a sleeping person but idk what you could do in that little kitchen]

Joe: [for sure, just being subtly annoying/weird and he is just like does not compute ‘cos we mind our own business, so childish]

Ronnie: [love that for you two]

Joe: [we stan the regression for you]

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