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oftenwantedafton · 3 months

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The Perfect Girl - Dave Miller/William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 3

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - no explicit content in this chapter

Also available on AO3

Wednesday afternoon. Your first shift since the beginning of the week, when Dave Miller had pulled you into the abandoned pizzeria.

When he’d kissed you.

You tell yourself you’re not looking for him when you walk through the mall. You deny how often your gaze goes out of focus at random moments when you remember how it had felt to have the older man’s body pressed against you. The feel of his mouth and his tongue on yours. Your stomach flips. Your cheeks flush. You still think he’s creepy and weird. You’re still inexorably drawn to him. It’s all so confusing.

You retrieve inventory from the back room to put on display. The summer clothing line is ready. Shorts and tank tops and swim wear. Colors like lemon and raspberry and peach sorbet. Tiny prints with flowers and fruit. A box full of new sunglasses tinted in summer shades, some bearing tropical images on the lenses like palm trees and sunsets. Nautical bangles and pendants and post earrings in the shape of seashells and sea creatures. Canvas sneakers and strappy sandals. Cute new purses that you’re already eyeing for yourself.

Dave’s there when you return to the floor. Just in the doorway. Leaning. Arms folded. Messy hair and shadowed eyes and that mouth that you now know the feel of.

You try and fail at a smile. Stumble over a word of greeting. He takes a step forward. A pair of teenage girls enter the store and he scowls. Turns and leaves with a jingle of keys.

Break time. You’re not hungry. But it’s an excuse to leave the store. You recognize his footsteps behind you. The great, brisk strides he takes with those long legs. Polished shoes clicking on the ivory flooring. You turn around. You’re standing near one of the hallways with the custodial closets. Storage. Seasonal store displays and broken rental strollers and mops and buckets and wet floor signs. Dave takes your hand and pulls you into the hallway in one sweeping motion, never missing a beat. Key smoothly slotted into the lock on the closet. Pushes you inside, into the darkness. The door clicks shut.

It smells like chemicals. Cleaning supplies. You don’t dare move forward for fear of tripping on something. You can hear the security guard’s breathing.

“I’ve missed you,” he says quietly. He reaches for you. You turn in his arms. “Did you miss me?”

Your heart is pounding. “Yes,” you admit.

He makes a little humming sound, like he’s pleased with your response. His lips find yours in the dark. A little more aggressive today. You find yourself not minding. You cling to his tie, feel the stainless steel clip holding the dark fabric in place. He lets you breathe. You can feel his smile.

Then he releases you and the door opens. Light from the hallway. He’s already gone.

***

William Afton using the alias Dave Miller sinks into the cafe chair with less of his usual grace.

He’s tired. It’s not easy, working a full shift and then laboring on his special project in the late hours when everyone has gone home and the mall is meant to be empty.

You sit across from him and it revitalizes him. The task is worth losing sleep for. You smell like ripened peaches today. An early taste of summer. He despises the heat. It’s terrible for his fair complexion. He does not like the feel of it, the arid Hurricane air that leaves his skin damp and his brow salted. He thinks you must be the opposite. You’re wearing canvas slip ons and a yellow dress printed with sunflowers. How lovely it drapes over your frame, the sleeves loose and fluttering. So light and breezy. Such tiny, delicate buttons. How much he’d love to rip through them, let them scatter to the floor.

“Dave? Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” he says, his reverie broken. He watches you bite into a dark chocolate covered banana slice. Something from one of the frozen vending machines. You wince at the cold and put the remainder in your mouth. The rapidly melting chocolate stains your fingers. You lick them clean. He wishes he could do it for you.

You seem to have an affinity for chocolate and sweet things in general. He’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth himself. He’ll make sure to always keep the pantry and fridge in the hidden living space he’s creating stocked with something sugar laden for you.

“How come you’re still wearing long sleeves? They must have short sleeved uniform shirts.”

“The air conditioning,” he says dismissively. It’s not the real reason, of course. The scars have to be kept hidden.

“Want one?” You remove another coated slice from the wrapper. He nods, his fingers curling around your wrist, trapping you. He bends forward, gently clutching the offering in his teeth and pulls. Consumes it in its entirety, able to feel the iced treat traveling downward, like swallowing an ice cube whole. Doesn’t relax his hold until he’s lapped the chocolate from your fingers.

“Dave…” He watches your eyes dart around to see if anyone’s watching. He grins at you.

“Delicious,” he says.

You don’t say much after that.

Afton walks you back to the store and follows you inside of it. “Where’s the staff restroom?”

“Oh, um…” He sees you hesitate. Wondering perhaps why you’re asking to use that particular one. “It’s out back to the left.”

“Show me.”

“Dave…” Again, with this. Looking scandalized. Whatever customers are in the store are preoccupied. Your coworker is engrossed in a fashion magazine resting on the counter. “I’ll be right back, I’m almost done my break,” you say. The girl doesn’t even look up, nodding. “You’re not supposed to be back here,” you hiss at him when you’re both out of sight. “Make it fast.”

“Is that how you want it? Fast?” He leans his back against the door and pushes it, dragging you in with him. It’s not a large room, just a sink and toilet, very little space to even stand for one person. The security guard crowds you against the sink. “Well? Is it?”

William loves watching the way you swallow when you’re nervous. So much saliva filling your throat. How much he wants to fill that throat.

“I’m supposed to be back to work.”

He shrugs. “You still haven’t answered me.” He tucks his lips beside your ear and rests a hand at the v of bare flesh the dress leaves exposed at the base of your throat and beginning of your chest. He can feel your heart beating like mad. “How do you want it?”

You still don’t answer, your lips parting. Needing more air, perhaps. He decides he’ll answer for you. His lips crush against yours. He can still taste the dark chocolate from your snack earlier. The scent of peaches is heavy in his nostrils. He lavs your throat. You whimper. He kisses the place his hand has just vacated, that tempting bit of skin above the start of those tiny buttons. He wants so much to fall on his knees before you. Devour every inch of you.

Instead he steps back into the hall. Leaves you flushed and breathless. Pushing you a little further along the path of wanting.

The clerk at the counter doesn’t even notice when he leaves the store.

***

A Friday evening. You’re on the roof of the parking garage. No other cars are around. Dave follows behind you. You think it must have been him following you all along, all those other times. He’s so good at avoiding being seen. It occurs to you that given his job he must know the layout rather intimately. Every camera, every blind spot. All of the shadowed places. You know them now too, because of him.

The skin beneath his eyes is so sooty. It always is lately. As if he’s not been sleeping. Keeping late hours.

He enters the passenger side of your car without asking. It’s just assumed he’ll be here with you, because he wants to be.

You push the keys in the ignition and turn to face him.

“Are we ever going to…” You begin, faltering.

“Are we ever going to what?” He smirks.

“Go anywhere together?” The smug look fades. Clearly not what he was expecting you to ask.

“You want to go on a date? With someone old enough to be your father? You’re embarrassed if I touch you in public, forget kissing.”

“I’m not,” you mumble, but it’s true. You’re not ashamed, just…uncomfortable. Nothing with Dave is ever casual. There is no quick peck on the cheek or brief embrace that would be considered proper in public. Everything is intense, heated, lingering. They are not the kind of gestures you think should be seen by or shared with others. “And yes, I would like to go somewhere that isn’t in this stupid mall.” It’s begun bothering you. The stolen kisses. The sneaking around. You feel like you’re entitled to something more than that.

“And then what?”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“What else do you want from me?”

“I want to know what I am to you.”

The security guard sighs. “I don’t care for labels.” He pauses. “I was going to wait to tell you, but the reason I’m so tired is because I’ve been working on something. For you.”

You blink in surprise. “For me?”

“Yes. But it’s not quite ready yet. So you’ll have to wait a little longer.”

“You’ve really been staying up all night working on something for me?”

He nods. Some dark tendrils of hair fall forward. Your fingers itch to tuck them back into place.

Dave rests his fingers beneath your chin. He gifts you a softer smile this time before his mouth covers yours. You finally surrender to what your fingers have been craving and slide them through the dark hair. It’s warm inside the car. He’s warm. His mouth moves to your neck. You wonder when he will finally put his hands on you, in places he shouldn’t. You’re afraid of him doing it. You wish he would anyway. You’ve begun to think about him now when you’re in your bedroom at night. The last thoughts before you go to sleep. Sometimes touching yourself and wishing it was his hand instead. Wondering if he’s doing the same.

You rest a hand tentatively on his thigh, midway up. He notices, drawing back slightly. “You think you’re ready for that?”

Are you? You think so. You want…but still. Still so nervous. You’ve never gone all the way. Not done much beyond heavy petting. You’d been waiting for the right person. Was Dave Miller the right person?

“I think it will happen soon,” he promises. “When the time is right. After I give you your surprise.” His lips find yours again.

You think about your curfew. Your mother will wonder where you are.

You keep kissing him.

***

Middle of summer. William Afton has made considerable progress. On his special project. With you.

A lot of what he’d needed was already in the restaurant. Converting it into a living space has gone smoothly. The plumbing is already there. Sink, toilet, and now shower. The rest is so much easier. New queen sized mattress, box spring, frame, sheets, comforter. Two large closets, one for linens, one for clothes. A recliner. Bookshelf. Still empty, but he’s got plans for that. Small kitchen area. Table, two chairs, fridge, microwave. Cabinets for dishes and silverware. Lighting. All very traditional. Like a generously sized college dorm room or first apartment.

Until the other things are placed.

Soundproofed walls. One-way looking glass. Security cameras. The iron ring set in concrete on the floor. The chains and shackles. He tests the length. What will and won’t be out of reach. Adjusts the cameras. A wall for privacy for the bathroom area. The rest is exposed.

The timing of his completion is perfect. No school to worry about. You’re working more hours. Saving up for the college you won’t be attending come fall.

He’s still done nothing but kiss you. The restraint he has is tremendous. He thinks you’re quite addicted to the kissing by now. How much he enjoys pulling you into the shadows for a taste of that mouth. And now you’ve gotten brave enough to touch him. Your hand on his thigh. A signal.

Maybe you won’t need much persuasion.

But if you do, well.

Afton piles the chains back in the center of the secret room.

He’s ready to take you.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #dave miller x you #dave miller x reader #william afton #dave miller #fnaf fanfic

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starscelly · 2 months

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for those interested in printing and creating your own zine! jpegs of the template for the hockey zine here, link to download from drive (+ more info on that) and a tutorial below!!

if you can print from somewhere that supports psd files (also in the drive) i highly recommend, to preserve the colors better (: these appear weird as rgb color profile right now but Should print properly as they'll convert to cmyk. let me know if thats not the case!

also, i'm. not charging for any of this. but instead if you're able to, please consider donating esims for gaza or in some way supporting those in palestine (even just doing your daily arab.org click!!)

again, if you have somewhere to print psd files that is what i would Highly Recommend, the colors and quality will just turn out better, i think.

here is the link to a drive folder where u will find these files as well as tutorials (both specifically for this zine and for this type of zine in general)

some further info not included/expanded on in that drive! :

this is meant to be 8x8in when laid flat (not folded) and the files there should print as such, you wont need a special printer or anything, i literally just used the normal library printer on printer paper.

you will need to cut off the edge around the printed bits as straight and close to the edge as possible, as well as the 4x4 empty square in the middle.

if you're able to line them up, you can print these back to back as they are. if you can't, or want the zine to be a little thicker, you can just print them on separate pages and glue them back to back (the way theyre currently oriented, if that makes sense) and fold it like that. that's how i did it!

there are 24 image slots, but if you want to make your own you will only make 6 images. these images will then be split up into 4 sections (theres an example of this in the tutorial folder) in order to be folded, which is why there's 24 little sections.

i would recommend folding around every square of an image before doing the Actual Final Fold, it'll be soooo much easier to manipulate it from there imo. then, once you have done the final fold, taking something and creasing around the edges of the zine on each page you flip to will help it be easier to move, as well.

also this is the video i originally used to learn to make these (but found to be a little confusing/not friendly to those making their own)

if theres anything i missed/is unclear/doesn't work, please feel free to send me an ask or message about it!!! i hope you all enjoy and make ur own zines <3

#not all required reading just. Info if u get confused/lost/need tips and tricks (:#hope this is useful!!!!!!#also hope i’m right abt the color profile thing lol…#real man's sport #zine tutorial #art stuff

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hyunnieshannie · 1 year

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EX | HJ

Chapter 4: You're so cruel...Y/N

Pairing: Han Jisung x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 4,697

General Synopsis: Your ex? Shitty. Your family? Worse. Your best friend? Left for a tour in the middle of one of the worst times of your life. How are you meant to deal with planning what should have been your wedding, dealing with your family, and pretending like you're not falling apart all on your own?

General Warnings: Idol!Jisung, mentions of other Idols (P1Harmony/Seventeen), all views on these idols are purely fictional. Idol AU. Mentions of cheating, mentions of smoking and drug use (weed and cigarettes), Mentions of drinking, angst, self esteem issues, depression. Y/N is older than Jisung. (I'm sorry for the jokes that come out of this) (any tags I missed please feel free to let me know! More tags to be added as the story goes on.)

A/N: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, MY TEENY TINY ADHD BRAIN SAID "HERES 9 OTHER STORY PLOTS THAT YOU MUST WRITE DOWN OR YOU'LL FORGET" ANYWAYS PLEASE ENJOY ~ gif by @jjsungie ~

PREVIOUS ꕀ❀ꕀ SERIES MASTER LIST ꕀ❀ꕀ NEXT

“Get up- Get up- Get up Y/N!” Mini shouts as she excitedly jumps on the bed, you groan loudly rolling on to your side, attempting to snuggle up in the covers. “Hell no.” Mini says as she rips the duvet right off you, “UP!”

“Come on Min, it’s like-” You reach for your phone, checking the time. “Min it’s fucking eight am on a Saturday…” you sit up slowly, sleepily wiping away the morning haze from your eyes. Mini’s already dressed, hair straightened out, bangs falling gracefully over her forehead. Her makeup was done up, in a true ‘e-girl’ fashion. “Why the fuck do you have makeup on at eight.” you laugh, and then you spot it. Laid out across the study desk which she has pushed right against the end of the bed. The entirety of her makeup arsenal spread out messily, some laying on the floor. Who owns that much makeup? Your eyes widen as you look up at her, “No.”

“Yes.” she smirks. As much as you fight, and plead to just go back to bed all of it goes unheard.

So there you are, sitting with your eyes closed as she lightly brushed eyeshadow onto your lids. You hadn’t had someone else do your makeup before, it tickled you a bit as she added her finishing touches to the shadow. You open your eyes as you hear her shift from her spot, walking around the side of the bed and hopping up. Placing herself directly behind you. She places a pillow in her lap and prompts you to lay in her lap, “Now don’t open your eyes, until I say so okay?” you nod as you lay down, softly closing your eyes. Wet. The initial shock of the cool wet liner causes you to flinch, she raises her hand quickly; laughs it off and continues what she was doing.

“So why are we doing this?” you ask as she fans your face with a folding fan,

“Mmm, breakfast date with the boys,” She mutters as she focuses on her job on doing your makeup, lightly brushing your eyelashes out before gluing on a light pair of lashes directly on your lash line.

“For what?” they haven't mentioned it before, she finishes with the second lash before tapping you lightly, indicating you could now get up. Sitting up you face her, the flash on her camera goes off, as it lets out a low hum. The polaroid prints and she takes it quickly placing it inside the drawer of the nightstand that sat beside the bed. “Don’t you shake tho-”

“NO. Leave it in a dark place, shaking it could cause the chemicals to get all wonky and fuck with the image.” she laughs, “Also Y/N it’s been a month.”

How time flies when having fun. A month has already come and gone since you moved in with them, a month of what seemed like peace finally. After the exchange with Leah, she had told you she found a wedding planner and to not bother with helping. She made no mention of a new maid of honor, so until she did you still held that title, just without the responsibilities. Keeho had mentioned during a late night facetime call how he was happy she’d finally left you alone, and that he was relieved knowing you were getting along with everyone. ‘I told you, you’d be fine’ he had said.

In the month of living with them, you’d grown quite close to a few people. Mini and Maddy for starters. Both of them being the closest thing you’d have to a real sister-like relationship. Mini often brought you everywhere with her, she always spoke honestly with you. And like siblings, you’d have disagreements but nothing that would ever put the nature of your relationship with her in danger. One of you would always find your way to the other, both of you always apologizing and admitting your wrong doings. The fights were never big, nor of any importance. They never happened often, and usually only came up when one of you was having a bad mental health day. A normal occurrence between friends, between sisters.

Maddy on the other hand, you didn’t get very close to quickly. It was roughly three weeks in before she fully warmed up, and it was no fault of yours or hers. Maddy practically lived here, spending most of her days in the house with everyone, but always leaving before dinner. At first it was awkward with her as it is when meeting new people. You had complained to Mini once thinking Maddy hated you, only to find out she’d actually just been having a rough patch. Maddy is a happy person, not someone who showed how she felt often, instead opting to just not speak. To most it’d come off as cold, but Mini assured you that Maddy found interest in being your friend, and during a late night drunken talk in Mini’s bedroom Maddy had blurted out how she was glad to have met you. From then on the three of you had become friends so close that Minho would often joke to Hyunjin and Chan that they’d be losing their girlfriends relatively soon seeing how you’ve taken up all their attention. All their affection.

You’d also gotten close with the rest of Jisung’s group members, the only person coming close to the friendship you have with Keeho being Changbin.

Of course Jisung was a close contender but you clicked with Changbin instantly.

On the same drunken night you had told the girls of the song you were wanting to release, for the first time under your own name. The girls begged for you to play it for them, giving them reason to get up and dance around the room as the song blasted through Mini’s speakers. The next day, while Mini went to work Changbin had come up to you. Shyly holding a ‘hangover drink’ to you,

ꕀ❀ꕀ

“I thought you may need this,” he said shyly, you took the drink reading over the label before lightly smiling up at him as you sat at the kitchen table staring into your laptop at the unfinished song before you. “I overheard the song last night,” he whispers, “You composed it?” you nodded at him. “Have you done the lyrics yet? I’d like to hear it fully. If you don’t mind that is..”

ꕀ❀ꕀ

After that day the two of you spent a lot of time in the spare room they used for producing, he created lyrics that matched the vibe of the song and often joked about how now it’s both of your song, and you can’t publish it without at least crediting him. You got close with him through music, as someone who appreciated what you did, and in his words ‘your second fan.’ you had asked him why he’d have labeled himself the second, only to get a half assed response that he just wasn’t the first one.

As many late nights of deep talks you had with Mini, you had just as many with Changbin. Often talking about whatever was on his mind, his fear of fully committing to the girl he had been seeing; or his fear of messing things up before recording or performing with the group. He had gotten so close with you, that at one point Mini had just started inviting him to girls nights.

The others would bitch and moan over never receiving an invitation, and Changbin would simply smirk and brag of how much more important he was. ‘Honorary woman’ you had joked once only for him to respond telling you how; though you meant it as an insult he’d take it as a compliment.

Minho, Chan, Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin became like brothers to you, people you could look to for anything but Jisung, after a while began to draw back.

Everyone always assured you that it had to do with him, that he had his own issues he needed to deal with, that he’d often do it on his own. He still spoke to you normally, he’d treat you like any of his other friends, but something always felt like he was hesitant to speak to you. Sometimes, you’d catch him looking at you deep in thought, only for him to avert his eyes when he snapped back into reality. Sometimes, he’d just give you a weak hello before locking himself away.

ꕀ❀ꕀ

“It’s just stress Y/N, don’t overthink it.”

“I know Seungmin it’s just, I feel bad.”

“Why?”

“Because whenever I’m feeling like absolute shit everyone is always there, and Jisung’s always the first to notice and try to comfort me. I just feel bad that I can’t do that for him, because he won’t tell me what's wrong.”

“Give him time Y/N, he’ll tell you what he’s been thinking, I promise.”

ꕀ❀ꕀ

“It’s been a month already?” You say as you get up, stretching your arms as Mini digs through the closet. She nods as she pulls out a few clothing options and tosses them to you. “Damn,” you pick out an outfit carefully to somewhat match the light pink tones Mini had done for your makeup. You admired yourself in the mirror as you checked yourself over once. The makeup she’d done was simple, the foundation mixture looking natural against your skin. The contour shaped your face perfectly, it wasn’t harsh and blended just right to lift your cheek bones. Light blushing gives you warm rosy cheeks; complementing the pink shadows that in Mini’s words, ‘suit someone as beautiful as the spring’. The eyeliner that was delicately painted on your eyes made them look rounder, the light weight lashes bringing the entire eye look together. You appreciate the work she’d done with your makeup, the outfit complimenting everything as you fixed up your messy hair. By the time you had finished it was nine thirty, and of course Mini had given you a ‘told you so’ laugh as you stared down at your phone. “H-how did it take us an hour and a half to get ready?” you questioned,

“Looking that good takes time,” she shrugged as the two of you walked out of the room.

The boys of the house all sitting downstairs on the couch, loud as they each yelled about who’s car they’d prefer to be in. There was a total of twelve people going, and three cars. It should have been fairly easy to just stick four in three cars; but instead they argued about how five in one is much too uncomfortable. “You guys are ridiculous.” Mini scoffed as the group looked at her, “Chan, Ji, and you Hyunnie, you make one car. Minho, twinny-”

“How are we twins again?” Seungmin groaned,

“Our nicknames dumbass that makes us twins get over it, anyways Minho, twinny, innie, and lix in the other car. I’ll take Y/N, Maddy, and Autumn and Bin.” the boys began to complain about the arrangements, asking why once more Changbin had been selected to go in her car rather than with Chan, Hyunjin and Jisung,

"Seriously Min, the math ain't mathing." Seungmin laughed,

“Fuck off and mind ya business.” she laughed. She grabbed her keys and jingled them at the door, the small wristlet covered in keys, pins, and other items she could dangle off them all chiming as they hit against one another.

You quickly followed behind her as she hopped in the car starting it up. Handing you her phone to enter in navigation, “Play music.” she said. You looked up at her wondering if it was okay to play your music, you’d gone out with her several times but not with the others like this. You knew what kind of music everyone liked, except for Autumn who was still new to you.

Changbin had made it official only that week, and wanted her around as much as possible to get used to everyone.

You liked her, she is sweet and a music major like yourself, but rather than wanting to be a producer, she was a vocalist. Changbin had even suggested you two work on a song together, and joked how Mini could be the director for the video. Though it was a joke, it was a good idea, having your friends do a video this way. Mini being so into makeup and film, you were sure it would come out looking nice. Autumn whose vocals could grab the attention of any person, you knew she would sound good, what you worried most about was more about the tracks you had created. Would they really be good enough for that?

The drive to the restaurant was fun, the five of you talking and singing to the song you played. Everyone requested at least one song. During the car ride you learned everyone had at least two songs they went all out in, and it made you giggly seeing them. You almost wanted to record them to treasure how they looked so happy as they gave their all in the songs that played. Is this how the boys felt? You wondered.

Mini was a chaotic driver, fast, swerving through lanes, yet with ever so careful with such gentle stops you’d forget she was going 160 Kilometers down the highway.

How she’d never been pulled over remained a mystery, but if anyone had an issue with how she drove, they didn’t mention it.

You found it fun, zipping down the highway as music blared. It made you excited for the road trip she had decided to randomly plan out on a drunken Thursday night.

At first you had thought she was joking, or at the least only saying it due to the four bottles of soju she had downed. But the next day she was staring deep into her laptop as she looked at different locations you could all go. Excitedly telling you of all the different things you’d see.

Quickly stepping out of the car you let out a loud sigh as you stretch, the others pulling up soon after you.

ꕀ❀ꕀ

Breakfast had been nice, it felt normal for once. Everyone talked away and Jisung didn’t have his head buried into his notebook the entire time for the first time in a few weeks. He managed to speak to you properly too. He wondered if you’d noticed his demeanor lately and obviously you did. From the conversations he’d had with the other boys and a long one he had with Changbin, he knew you were very clearly worried about him; but truthfully he couldn’t figure out how to go about explaining any of it to you.

He tried wrapping his brain around it by himself and after a week and a half of confusion he’d finally decided to talk to his friends about what was going on. Though the conversations did prove to be slightly helpful to his situation, he was still having a hard time processing it. He’d even facetimed Keeho to ask his opinion on everything.

Keeho was supportive, and talked him through a lot of his concerns, letting him know that in time everything would be okay.

He wondered when he had started feeling this way, and to be completely honest with himself it had happened after the fight with your sister.

Jisung had been the first to notice something was wrong, he had left Hyunjin’s room to run to the washroom as the group of boys played video games and listened to music, but was quickly stopped when he heard you pleading with your sister to continue the planning another day.

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop but you sounded upset, your voice so full of hurt he couldn’t help but listen in, so when the screaming erupted and the rest of the boys trailed out of the room and down the stairs he realized that it wasn’t going to end very well. After everything was said and done, ending with Mini sending you to your room, and a few threats to Leah where Hyunjin literally had to hold her back from jumping on your sister. He found his mind rushing and panicking. Where you okay? What happened? How could your sister be so rude? How could he help you? What could he do for you? He just wanted to make sure you were okay but his heart was pounding and he wasn’t just angry, no he was fucking pissed.

ꕀ❀ꕀ

The day of the fight:

“What the fuck was that.” Jisung asked as the room quieted down, Mini stood there eyes closed as Hyunjin held her shoulders guiding her through some breathing exercises,

“Jisung, explain the situation now before I go up there.” She sighed, finally opening her eyes.

He did explain, all of it. The group understandably was shocked to hear the full issue (that he knew of). You, dating Jeonghan, the breakup and finally your sister being engaged to him.

“What, the fuck.” Jeongin sighed as Jisung finished explaining. “Ok so, her sister is marrying her ex, asked her to help PLAN the wedding, and want her to invite HER friends to her party? How the fuck does any of that make sense?”

“You should have seen her face when she saw the dress,” Mini sighed,

“OH SO SHE STOLE HER MAN, HER WEDDING, AND DRESS?” Changbin yelled in a hushed tone, “What the fuck is wrong with her?”

“I never said she st- I mean, okay maybe that's possible judging by Y/N’s reaction that might actually be the case” Mini sighs, “Hanji, go get her a glass of water Innie, Snacks, the rest of you… I don’t know, look pretty or something?” and with that Mini made her way upstairs while Jisung made his way into the kitchen. His heart was pounding through his chest, and every thought turned to how he should’ve mentioned it to the group before everything happened. He should have told them, but by the time he had found out that they had insisted on inviting her over, it was too late.

That night Jisung lay in bed, thinking about everything he could have done. Should have done. In all honesty, he should’ve been the first one to speak up. Instead he let Chan be the one to say something. Sure Hyunjin had spoken first to defend his girlfriend, but ultimately it was Chan who said something about Leah leaving, only after Chan and Changbin had said something was he able to finally say something. He felt guilty. He had taken you in, Keeho had entrusted you to him. Yet when you needed him, he was the fourth person to actually speak up.

He could barely look at you, guilt eating away at him every time he looked into your eyes.

Three weeks later~

“I should have said something, I should’ve helped her faster.” Jisung sighed as Changbin stood at his door staring at him. Changbin who’d originally walked into Jisung’s room to ask if he had accidentally grabbed his notebook instead of his own from their small music room, only looked at him confused as he processed the words coming out of Jisung's mouth.

“Wait what?” Changbin said in his confused state,

“Y/N’s fight with her sister,” Jisung sighed as he ran his hand through his hair, looking up at Changbin as tears threatened to fall. For the past three weeks he had silently blamed himself for your mental state deteriorating in such a short time since you moved in. You had been entrusted to him, Keeho needed him to keep you from falling into a depression and instead he let the very reason for your heart ache to walk right into what was supposed to be your safe space.

“Ji-” Changbin made his way to the bed where Jisung sat, sitting down beside him.

“Sorry. That came out of nowhere.”

“No it’s fine, honestly I figured you’d talk when you felt comfortable but I didn’t think it was about this.” He sighed, “Ji you didn’t do anything wrong, Chan didn’t know when he invited Leah here.”

“Exactly, I should have explained earlier to avoid this, and now Y/N won’t even look up from the ground whenever she does decide to leave her room.” The tears that welled up in his eyes finally began to fall, and only then did Changbin realize how distraught over the situation Jisung was. “She’s my responsibility and I can’t even- I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Jisung, Y/N is not a child. Don’t treat her like one, she’s grown. Yes we are supposed to be here to help her while Keeho’s gone but we’re supposed to be being her friends Ji- not her babysitters. We can offer advice, we can do our best to help her through it but ultimately it’s her who will know when she’s better.” Changbin explained, Jisung understood what he was saying but he still felt like shit. He still couldn't help feeling like he should have done more, “Ji you did what needed to be done, you took her in, you gave her ELEVEN new friends, you gave her people to lean on, and you gave her support during that fight. You did exactly what you should have.”

“But I should have done more-”

“There is no more in this situation Hannie. You did everything right, and Hannie it’s been three weeks, and she does look up.”

“She looks so sad Bin…”

“She looks sad because she thinks something’s wrong with you, she thinks you’re going through shit by yourself and she wants to help you. She’s doing fine right now, she’s dare I say happy. It’s you she’s concerned for right now. So please Ji talk to her, properly. You’re her friend. So explain to her what you’re feeling right now, and I guarantee she’s going to tell you about how none of that was your fault,” Changbin smiled softly as Jisung looked up at him, eyes puffy and red from crying, his face heating up as he thought about how you were worried for him. “If anything I’m sure she's grateful you respected her privacy by not telling us until you had to.” Jisung nodded softly, his thoughts still racing.

“But now I’m the reason she’s worried.” He sighed,

“So talk to her.” Changbin said as he got up off the bed, heading towards the door. “Please.” He smiled once more before shutting the door, leaving Jisung to think about how he should approach you.

Which brings him back to the present. The breakfast he planned to celebrate your one month of being with them.

ꕀ❀ꕀ

After breakfast the group made their way back to the house, in the same cars they’d arrived in. Jisung kept himself busy by thinking of how he would approach you with his concerns. His concern that he didn’t do enough, his concern for making you worry for him, and the other thing. Frankly he was still unsure if he’d even be able to bring up the other issue that had kept him awake at night, but he figured maybe just getting it out of his system would allow him a night of sleep without his brain torturing him.

The group disbanded soon after arriving at home, each person going off to do whatever they needed to do. You sat comfortably on your bed scrolling through tiktok posts of the concerts that had been happening. You laughed as Keeho joked around on stage with the boys. You missed them, a lot. A soft knock on the door, and you sit up “come in!” you say. Jisung walks in slowly before shutting the door behind him,

“Are you busy?” He asks quietly, if you could tell he was nervous, you didn’t mention it.

“Not at all, what's up Ji?” You smiled sweetly at him, and his heart melted at the sight. God how could you? He thought to himself, how could you smile so sweetly, how could you look so good so effortlessly. He shook the thoughts out of his head as he approached the bed sitting carefully on the edge of it.

“Can we talk?” Finally, You thought to yourself, scooting closer to him as he watched his hands. Fiddling with a ring he had on as he thought of how to bring up everything. “I’m sorry,” he sighed,

“What? What do you mean? Why are you sorry?” You asked, he finally looked up at you, clearly you were concerned for his apology, and confused.

“For going dark on you, I didn’t mean- I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.” He lets out the look on his face expressing hurt, and regret. You knew he didn’t mean to do it, you didn’t feel bad, you just wanted to know if he was okay, so why would he apologize for going through something? You knew how it could be to feel down, you knew and he’d always been there for you, you just wanted to be able to return the favor.

“Ji you didn’t make me feel bad, I just want to know if you’re okay,” you smile softly, placing a hand on his wrist gently, his body tenses up as your hand makes contact with his skin. You feel him tense up, shit, did I make him uncomfortable? “Are you, okay?” he shakes his head ‘no’ lightly, looking back up at you from looking at your hand on his.

“You had that fight with your sister, and I put a lot of pressure on myself Y/N.”

“What? Why would you do that Ji!”

“Because, I should have helped you sooner, I should have told them it wasn’t a good idea to have her here; I didn’t even speak up until someone else did and I just, I should have done mor-”

“Han Jisung.” You say sternly, “Don’t you dare say that.” He looks to you, a concerned look written across his face. “You have been there for me, you stood up for me, you comforted me. You have been a good friend to me Ji, don’t you fucking dare say you should have done more, when you did the most for me.” Jisung’s heart began to race at your words, you praised him for doing what anyone would have done, for the bare minimum. He still felt like he should have done more, but he knew you wouldn’t let him try to tell you that there was more he could have done. He could have kicked Leah out himself, not Chan. He could have been the one to comfort you first, not Mini, he could have talked you through your concerns, not Bin. He could have done more. He should have done more. “Is this why you wouldn’t even look at me? Why you hid yourself away all month?” you sighed, “Did this bother you so much that you couldn’t even look at me Ji?” he nodded again, but it wasn’t the only reason. “Oh Ji-” you pull on his wrist lightly, using your free hand to cradle his head pulling him into your shoulder to hug him, “Ji, you’ve been such a good friend to me, you did everything right. Please, Don’t think you did anything wrong. You did everything right. Okay?”

He listened to your words, but his mind was elsewhere. He was enjoying the warmth of your hug, the way you softly held him. Gently. He was listening to the sound of your breathing. He was sinking into the feeling of your hand in his hair, softly stroking his head as you comforted him. You’d never hugged him like this, you’ve never held him like this. And in that moment he didn’t want you to let go. Ever. if he could he’d sit there being held by you for hours. He’d love to just fall asleep in your arms like this, but you were just trying to be a good friend; And comfort him.

Because that's what the two of you are right? Friends.

And friends don’t think about falling asleep in each other's arms.

You’re so cruel Y/N.

Tag List:

@alyszaen @channiesbub @dugarzaddy @fairywriter-oracle @skzloveforever @neohyxn @chaotickyrith @lemonadencran @raven-skz95 @chanlixiiee

♡Thank you for letting me tag you♡

#han jisung x female reader #han jisung fluff #skz han #stray kids han #han jisung #han jisung x you #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n #stray kids #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fan fic #stray kids fic #han jisung fic #stray kids jisung

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husbandhannie · 2 years

Note

hi livvie <333 i saw your post about trying requests and was wondering if you have any thoughts about being neighbours with c-c-chan? 🤧 totally no pressure and dw at all if you don’t end up writing it 💗 i hope you’re doing well!!

chihuahuas

pairing: dino x reader

word count: 980

genre: fluff

warnings: none

a/n: ah sol, thanks for sending! i made this uni au because i'm looking at my accommodation pictures these days. also this wasn't meant to be so long, but i started writing and well.....you know how much i like writing chan haha. not proofread, i honestly don't know if i'll ever do it.

taglist: @itsveronicaxxx @husbandhoshi @zurikyo @leejungchans @junhui-recs.

you’re barely out the door when the object rolling towards your feet grabs your attention, followed by the call of your name in your neighbor’s exasperated voice. a closer look reveals the offending item to be a bottle of glue, and you bend down to pick it up so you can hand it to its owner.

the first time you met lee chan, he was carrying a basket of clothes down to the laundry room, wearing adorable dinosaur-printed pajamas and sleepy eyes. it was the week before the start of your master’s, and he had introduced himself as ‘the guy in 111’. “let me know if you need anything”, he had said, before getting flustered at the sight of underwear poking out of his basket. even flustered and sleepy, he was beautiful.

(he looked beautiful later that week too, when he ran into you on his way back from the gym, sweaty in a sleeveless shirt. you’re proud to say you managed to keep your cool in front of him, only letting out a scream into your pillow when your door was securely closed.)

“thanks”, he accepts the bottle, “slipped from my hands”.

you’re not surprised. it seems like he’s carrying a third-grade teacher’s craft supplies - large sheets of colored paper folded up in his arms, and a transparent folder that contains scissors and some cutouts of - wait, are those dog pictures?

“i can see why”, you smile, “um, what’s all this for?”

you know his major is education, but you doubt his assignments include making posters. maybe he’s supposed to work with kids as part of a project? the image of lee chan bending down to help a kid glue cute dog pictures on a poster comes to your mind before you can help it, and -

no. you can’t do this today. you don’t have the strength.

“uh, we’re supposed to decorate the common room for world animal day”, he adjusts the supplies in his arms, “didn’t you know?”

oh yeah, you do remember reading about that on the bulletin board below. while you’ve never been the one for decoration and related activities, you’re even less inclined this week, with the number of assignment deadlines you have. thankfully, there’s only one left now.

“i think i read about it”, you answer, “and you decided to, what, make an entire poster by yourself?”

“no, i - “, he sighs, “the guys and i collected material and only some cutting and pasting was left, so we played a game to decide. and well”, he shrugs resignedly, “guess who lost”.

“oh no”, you shake your head in mock sympathy, “it was rock-paper-scissor, wasn’t it?”

“hey, it’s a perfectly fine - “

“i know, i know”, you grin, “what’s the subject of the poster?”

maybe you can take some time out to help him if he’s making a poster on cute dogs.

“uh, chihuahuas”, he manages to push the folder up, urging you to pick it up, “and how, uh, expressive their expressions are?”

“what?”. is he serious?

“yeah”, he tries to convince you, “take a clipping out, you’ll see what i mean”.

you take the first picture out and, well, realize he’s not completely insane. it’s a chihuahua alright, making a face that can only be described by the string “aaaauuuuughhhhh”.

“oh god”, you take out one more, letting out a cackle at the indescribable yet vivid emotion on the dog’s face, “oh my god. this is brilliant”.

“i know”, he exclaims, laughing with you, “there are so many of them too. we really found more than we thought we would”.

you say nothing, just snap the folder close and put it back to its original place, trying not to focus on how ridiculously buff chan’s arms feel.

it’s quiet for a moment then, the two of you just looking at each other, neither commenting on how close you’re standing, and how your hand is still on his arm.

“well, i should - “

“would you mi - “

both of you pause, grinning.

“you first”, you offer.

“well”, he clears his throat, his ears an endearing pink, “i was wondering if you could help me? paste these, i mean? if that’s okay?”

“ah”, you smile slightly, fighting the urge to fix your hair, “i will, if you take me out to dinner later”.

fuck, where did that come from?

do you want to go out with lee chan? yes. he’s cute, hot, sweet, thoughtful, hardworking -

you get the point.

but did you plan on asking him out today? asking him out ever? no.

it must be those freaking arms.

“um”, his eyes widen while he considers his response, “like a date?”

“no? unless you want to”.

what?

chan looks at you, clearly trying to figure out what the hell you’re talking about.

oh, well. if you’re doing this, might as well do it properly. well, what’s the worse that could happen? it’s not like you live right next to the guy or anything, right? not like you have to avoid him in hallways if he rejects you.

“i mean”, you start, proud of how confident you sound, “if i help you, take me out to dinner. like a date”.

chan blinks once before a grin takes over his face, his eyes shining by the strength of it. you think your heart skips a beat. oh, you’re down bad.

“sure”, he answers excitedly, “it would be my pleasure”.

“great, then”, you close your door and make your way into his room, picking up the folder from his arm on the way, “let’s do it”.

a few seconds pass. chan hasn’t moved. one look over your shoulder shows him staring at you, an almost dreamy look in his eyes. stop, you want to say, we haven’t even been on a date, i can’t fall in love with you yet.

“c’mon”, you shoot him a teasing look, “the chihuahuas are waiting”.

#seventeen fluff #dino fluff #lee chan #dino #seventeen #seventeen x reader #dino x reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt fluff #dino imagines #asks #sol

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sleepingdeath-light · 10 months

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watching their s/o get possessed hcs ; poly!sashannarcy

requested by ; anonymous (17/06/23)

fandom(s) ; amphibia

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; anne boonchuy, marcy wu, sasha

outline ; “HIHI I SAW THAT YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN AGAIN

May I request an amphibia one shot/headcannons of Sashannarcy x fem! reader where reader gets possessed by the core instead of Marcy?

I’m not sure if this counts as UCS but I guess I can label it as such! <333

Anyways, don’t forget to eat and drink water! I hope people aren’t stressing you out with all the requests, have a lovely day/night! <333 :}”

warning(s) ; angst, mind control

this wasn’t meant to happen

this really wasn’t meant to happen

it shouldn’t be happening

but it was

if your death was the worst moment in their lives then what had followed was hell on earth — worse than, even

your mind erased and caught up in a hostile takeover, your body broken and soaked and commodified into a makeshift suit for an entity beyond human comprehension

a vessel

a toy

a shell

a suit

it was something out of a horror movie, but this time they couldn’t see a way out — couldn’t pause and walk away, couldn’t look up any conclusion, couldn’t pray for a sequel to give them closure

they were trapped, flies in a web watching this amalgamation of self importance and selfishness puppeteer your body without care or consideration

watching your limbs and joints contort further than is possible, watching your head loll lifelessly atop your neck, watch your abdomen fold in on itself

like you didn’t even have bones in the first place

unnatural

wrong

god they felt sick just looking at you — it… whatever you’ve been turned into

they blame themselves

marcy takes it the worst — she was the one who brought you all to amphibia, she was the one who trusted andrias and she was the one who was meant to be possessed

you were only like this — only being puppeted by an unseen ‘god’ — because you saved her life

sasha hates herself because your last interaction, last proper conversation before everything fell apart, was an argument — she’d told you that she hated you (she didn’t, couldn’t) and then you were gone and she fled like a coward

you were only in this position because she couldn’t put her ego aside and tell you what was actually happening

anne falls into a depressive spiral when she’s thrust back to earth — replaying the moment you were stabbed hundreds of times over, the image of your wide eyes and the blood dripping out of your chest and mouth printed onto the insides of her eyelids

you were only this way because she failed you

to anne; she wasn’t strong enough

to sasha; she wasn’t honest enough

to marcy; she wasn’t aware enough

they all failed you, they had just a much a role in this as andrias and his masters — at least in their minds

all were culpable

all of their hands stained with your blood, a red that will never wash out

but even now as they stare at you — it, them, whatever — after thinking, no knowing, that you were dead and gone, even now as your voice and body are used to goad and mock and attack and torment them they still can’t bring themselves to hurt you

can’t breathe

can’t dodge

can’t fight

they just stare and weep and sob and it’s ugly and messy and sad and desperate

but what else could they have done — except for everything they didn’t do

this was their penance, frozen in place as this spectre of their collective failure — this twisted amalgam of memory and mockery of their loved one — gives the order to have their friends killed and their home invaded

surrounded by gore that stains and drips and clings to their skin even through their armour and that they feel crawling beneath their skin — nagging, niggling guilt and fear

but they can’t hide forever, they know that well enough, and after taking their time well they start to fight again

tearing down machines and loyalists

ripping apart metal and smashing circuits to a fine powder

self pity and grief morphing into anger and vengeance as they launch at the cables linking you — whatever remains of you, at least — with your captor

a barrage of green, red and blue the last thing the not-you sees before everything goes black and the connection cuts out

#sleepingdeath #female reader #angst #angst hcs #amphibia angst #amphibia x reader #sashannarcy x reader #amphibia sasha x reader #amphibia sasha angst #marcy woo x reader #marcy woo angst #anne boonchuy x reader #anne boonchuy angst

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captainofthetidesbreath · 2 years

Text

Thoughts on the Critical Role Oracle of the Moon deck

This is a commentary on the deck as a physical item, particularly geared toward anyone who is wondering about the cards as a deck as a physical item and may be considering using it as an actual oracle deck and are concerned about its physicality.

The cards themselves are of a good size for oracle cards (about 4.7" H x 2.7" W) and have what seems to be the same soft touch matte finish as the book. As I'm not well-versed in art materials, I'm not quite sure how this type of finish would interact with materials while trying to illustrate the blank cards.

The cardstock is great for an oracle deck. If one is familiar with The Fountain tarot, I'd say they're similar. It's firm enough to retain its shape and resist folding but flexible enough for a bit of a riffle shuffle, though not really for a bridge. (Maybe one can bridge it after some wear and use, not sure). At twenty cards, the deck isn't really large enough for an overhand shuffle, but that's expected. I haven't personally found the cards to stick to one another nor are they too slippery. They fan well and easily. The cardstock seems to be sturdy, and I don't feel as if there's any risk of splitting or separating the faces from the stock. I feel as if it'll stand up to wear and regular use. I can't definitely say that as I only received mine today, but that's how I feel.

The color of the print is much closer to the colors seen in the photos modeled by Taliesin and Laura than it is the bolder studio white images. If you're a fan of especially Caemiel Lilium's (@caemidraws) work, you'll be pleased since the toned tan base is a signature of hers. The print retains some lovely color details, such as a subtle halo on Jester for "Joy" and faint detailwork on Caduceus' sleeve.

Also, this is visible in the shop listing images, but I do want to point out: the backs have an sort of galaxy nebula or weathering-type print on the back (just as on the box and booklet cover). It's not a solid color. I think this is a lovely detail given the deck's "lore" as a previously used deck, but some may mistake this for a printing error or that the card / booklet / box is dirty. That's how it's meant to be.

The box is designed well with considerations for regular use. It has little cutouts on the sides of the lid to make opening easier, which I like very much. Like many oracle and tarot deck boxes, this one also has a ribbon in the card bed to help lift the cards out of the box. The cards also fit perfectly into the bed. Perfect height, none of the cards easily slide over the top to be loose into the rest of the box under the booklet.

The booklet is minimal in the way of guidance on interpretations. If you've played around with the Instagram filter, you've seen some of them already. (I have a post listing those right here). The given suggestions (and titles given to each card) are evocative enough in their brevity to work with the deck as an oracle deck, if such is your intention, but if you're someone who likes significant and at-length meanings for a card to perform your readings, you will find it too brief. I will note, the font used for Jester's commentary can be difficult to read and feels somewhat small. As noted in the listing, there are two of booklets; as far as I can tell, they're identical outside of a misprinted copyright notice inside the box that is corrected in the printing outside the box. You can actually snugly fit both booklets into the box, if you wanted to keep both.

Overall, in my opinion, a very lovely and well-made deck, especially in the cards and the box, and I'm very pleased both as a fan and someone who sometimes uses oracle and tarot decks.

The deck's listing in the US Critical Role shop is here.

#Critical Role #Critical Role things #long post for ts

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projectlooseleaftea · 5 months

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Step 1: Materials and preparation (continued) - main fabric, lining fabric, and pattern taping

Alright! The second curtain has gotten its seams ripped out and is now washing (yes, still in the machine without overlocking, is I think the right term, the edges, but on a gentler cycle).

My first piece of red fabric is dry, as well as the lining fabric (which is cotton and felt safe enough to put in the dryer), and here they are together:

ID: a rich red folded fabric lying on top of a simple blue cotton fabric so that the top section of the image is blue and the lower part is red. End ID

I think these colours look really good together! But of course I had to try it out in a better way....

ID: a close-up of OP with the fabric draped around their shoulders like a cloak, over a white billowing shirt. On the viewers right side they have the fabric pulled close with the red layer visible. Their other arm is outstretched so that the blue inner layer of fabric is clearly visible. End ID

I've also been taping the pattern together. I unfortunately had a bit of a mishap with printing settings which meant the pattern was enlarged on my paper, luckily I realised before I started taping anything but it did mean I had to paint my 47 pages twice.

As of finishing writing this post (it's been in my drafts for most of the day), the second piece of red fabric has been washed and dried, and the half of the pattern with the smaller (but still big, lmao) pieces is laid out and largely taped together.

#project loose leaf tea #critical role #cr2 #the mighty nein #mollymauk tealeaf #crafts #sewing project #fibre arts

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frozenrose13 · 10 months

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[image id: first photo of translucent blue resin phone holder meant go on bars with two white zip ties through. second photo of translucent blue resin spike cuff on white wheelchair handle. /end id]

phone holder technically failed print but still usable. dont recommend spike cuffs for variety of reasons but made some for self anyways, more for show than anything (spike will break off before does damage). phone holder unfortunately does not get added to wheelchair bc no spot where won't be in way of folding (bc design/type of wheelchair). had to revise queue bit bc space on wheelchair.

both things getting added to document am doing about 3d printing which will share....idk sometime this month lol

#in which spags does stuff #described

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dailyshowchica · 11 months

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Stormtrooper Armor, Mark 2

In 2013, I was living in a small town in Iowa, and I not happy. I was not happy in a way I couldn’t begin to process until I’d gotten a new job and was moving out of town. But that was over a year away yet. To cope, I fell into Supernatural, hard. I caught up by watching syndicated reruns before work in the mornings on TNT, and I was keeping an eye out online for anything related to Supernatural.

I found a video, of Misha Collins, and several other, non-actor people. They were staying in a haunted castle in Scotland, and it looked like so much fun! The trip was the grand prize for something called Greatest International Scavenger Hunt the World Has Ever Seen, or Gishwhes. And a new hunt was starting up in a couple months. (Super)Naturally, I decided to play. (No, I will not apologize for that pun.)

There’s more about Gish online, so I’m not gonna repeat it here, but I was hooked. The hunt list was huge, and there was an item that sounded really cool:

5. IMAGE: A stormtrooper at a laundry mat folding clothes. (56 points) (From https://www.fangirlquest.com/gish/gish-item-list-2013/)

I didn’t have any kind of Stormtrooper costume, so I let that one go and made a bikini out of tea bags instead. But I kept that item in mind, in case they did a Stormtrooper item next year.

The point of Gish, at least as I always played, was not to spend money, but to get creative. Stortrooper armor is really fucking expensive, and the sets I’ve seen are meant for the troopers in the movies, i.e., adult men. I am nowhere near the same size as an adult man, so even if I could afford armor, it would be too big.

There’s a community of folks called the 501st Legion, which are stormtrooper cosplayers. They make their own armor, as screen-accurate as possible. You’ve seen them before, they tend to be asked to appear whenever somebody needs A Lot of stormtroopers for an event. These folks are hard core, at least compared to me. They build vacu-forming machines in their garages to custom fabricate their armor (this was before 3D printing was widely available). Well, I did not have the time, money, or space to build a vacu-forming contraption.

But I had another idea: duct tape. I thought, if I covered cardboard with white duct tape, I could fashion a set of armor for myself. So I went looking for a pattern, and started to save boxes. It took over a year, but I pulled it off! I did buy the helmet, and the boots were slipcovered with white vinyl fabric (think Pizza Hut table cloth fabric), cut from a pattern for Ugg-style slippers.

This lovely person has created Sand Trooper armor, which are the patterns I used. Thank you so much, kind cosplayer! I couldn’t have done this without you! http://foamysandtrooper.blogspot.com/

That armor served me well until 2022. But it was so hard to move in, and after so many times taking it off and putting it on, it looked pretty sad. Also, I made this armor before The Force Awakens came out, so the armor wasn’t actually attached to me. I had to wear a belt and use loops of nylon strap material to keep the thigh armor from sliding down my leg. After I saw Finn taking off his armor piece by piece, I thought that in my next version, I’d use something to make the armor attached to the black underclothes. Maybe Velcro. Plus the cardboard hwas heavy and bulky, and there had to be a better material.

And yeah, I know, most cosplay armorers use Worbla or craft foam, but I have zero experience with that, and I’d hate to screw up on a huge project with expensive materials. I thought I’d have better luck with posterboard.

I played with ideas, and in 2018, after Gish, I even bought some poster board and white duct tape to get started.

And then I got a new job, and I had to move, and learn a new area. And the old armor still looked good in photos, so I let it go. And so it went, until summer 2022.

2014 3. IMAGE. It’s “me time.” Spoil, pamper and be decadent to yourself like you never have before. Oh, and P.S., you’re dressed as a Stormtrooper. (48 points)

2015 179. IMAGE. Work opportunities are scarce since the Death Star blew up. Let’s see a stormtrooper working at their job as a waiter, fast food line prep, car mechanic, postal worker, deli sandwich maker, road-repair worker, etc). – Katherine Parsons (65 points)

2016 #76 97 POINTS Nobody ever talks about the fact that 250 years ago, stormtroopers who had been abandoned on planet Earth were forced to assimilate into pre-Industrial culture. Dramatically re-enact this difficult time. Show a stormtrooper getting back to basics using a spinning wheel, butter churn, or other old-fashioned tool or machine in a rural setting. Feel free to add accessories to the stormtrooper’s outfit to make their assimilation more complete—a Shaker-style hat, a musket slung over the shoulder, etc.

2017

#116 65 POINTS Not many people know this, but the Kessel Run was actually a foot race. Let’s see at least 5 Star Wars characters competing in the Kessel Run in a shopping mall.

2018

60 POINTS Assign To Me Submit Modern stormtroopers are so much more enlightened these days. They’re in touch with their “new age” side and have their chakras aligned. In fact, you just spotted one teaching a yoga class or leading some other new-age class.

2019

34. [IMAGE] The Federation of Stormtroopers has been officially sponsored by the X Games this year. Let’s see a highlight from one of their competitions with the stormtrooper participating in an extreme sport. (81 points)

2020 main hunt

247. [IMAGE] Where do stormtroopers go in the summer? To summer camp, just like the rest of us. Show us a Stormtrooper engaged in a typical summer-camp activity: canoeing, sailing, archery, making s’mores or playing guitar by a campfire… you get the idea. (37 points)

2020 October mini hunt

63. [IMAGE] Everybody knows Stormtroopers love Halloween. Show a Stormtrooper dressed up as what they REALLY wanted to be — a gentle, sweet or heroic costume like a ballerina, a firefighter, a fairy, etc. They should be in their Stormtrooper armor as well as their costume, of course. (41 points)

2022

191. [IMAGE] It’s tea time for Bananakin Skywalker and his Sconetroopers. Show us a Stormtrooper tea party. (72 points)

Gish is on an indefinite hiatus now, and I’m looking at another move. But before I pack up everything again, I decided it was time to finally finish my new set of armor, so I could stop carrying around the old set. And now, after months of work, it’s done! I don’t know how many rolls of duct tape it took, but it was easily 10. And I still want to try making a helmet, based on the speeder bike troopers, since theirs is the only helmet that would let human eyes look out. But that’s for later, maybe this summer.

Thank you, Mark 1 Stormtrooper armor. You went above and beyond what I imagined. You are now relieved of duty.

And welcome, Mark 2 Stormtrooper armor! Can’t wait to see what shenanigans we get up to!

#supernatural #gishwhes #crafts #duct tape #star wars #GISH

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tlcartist · 1 year

Text

Rewatching Folding Idea's NFT video essay and the idea of buying art as a financial investment is so weird to me. I even had a commission I did last year and the client had a similar attitude re: art. Like they asked me if I sold originals and I had to explain that I'm a digital artist. There's no such thing as an "original". The image isn't tangible and can be printed infinitely, but I assured them that I only print commissions once and don't resell them. They seemed satisfied and kept talking about how they're collecting art because it's going to be valuable someday and I just???

A- that absolutely will never happen with a digital illustration because again, there's no sense of scarcity like there is with an original physical piece of art.

B- generally speaking only art created by artists who have a prestigious career appreciates over time. I'm a nobody with less than 1k followers on IG. When I die no one will remember me. I won't leave a legacy.

C- it feels a little. . . gross? The idea of treating art first and foremost like a product? Treating art like it's value is monetary instead of emotional? And I guess that's hypocritical of me considering that I sell prints and merch of my art, but that's art that I'm selling on my terms. I'm the one who decides it's value and I definitely don't expect it to become more valuable over time.

Things worked out with that client and I just treated it like a standard commission. All this to say that, even if NFTs weren't highly problematic or connected to crypto, I don't think I'd feel comfortable with participating it. It's one thing to make a custom commission for someone or even an illustration I make based off of something I enjoy. It's another thing entirely to make something that is only ever meant to be locked in a digital vault in the hopes that it'll eventually become valuable.

#b rambles #this is a crypto/nft hate account

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oftenwantedafton · 2 months

Text

What Remains - Springtrap/William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 1

Rating - Explicit

Word count - 2k

Content/Warnings - minor violence, body horror, no explicit content in this chapter, additional tags to be added

Summary - They say the new Fazbear Fright horror attraction is haunted; the souls of the victims reawakened in this new venue that is meant to pay homage to the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. Seeking justice. Looking for revenge.

You know it is haunted by something much, much worse.

Also available on AO3

They say the new Fazbear Fright horror attraction is haunted; the souls of the victims reawakened in this new venue that is meant to pay homage to the original Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. Seeking justice. Looking for revenge.

You know it is haunted by something much, much worse.

***

You never thought this was how you’d be using your art degree.

But when you’d heard they’d been looking for someone to help stage and recreate the new horror attraction, you could hardly turn it down.

You are fascinated by the themed restaurant’s dark history.

They won’t let you inside the actual building to see what you’re replicating; something about a nearly lethal accident when an animatronic had been removed, so you’re forced to rely on the pictures and news articles you find online, on the old microfiche slides at the library. For a place with such an extensively rumored past, you don’t find very much. It’s almost as if the place wants to be kept hidden. Secret.

Then there are the protests. Families of the victims. Still considered alleged victims, because no bodies of any of the missing children had ever been found. Nonetheless, certain members of the community vehemently fight the new location’s opening. Claiming it’s disrespectful to those that have been lost. Dangerous to desecrate that evil establishment and recreate another in its image. But money talks, and there’s no denying this place has potential to make serious cash. So the protests go unheard. Ignored. And the project moves forward.

You meet the yellow rabbit late one night when you’re trying to arrange the decor on the wall, continuously glancing at the grainy image you’d printed out. The perspective is limited and it’s confusing your placement of certain objects.

You hear something from the other room.

It takes a few moments to register, so occupied as you are with the task at hand. Wait. There it is again. Something heavy, being dragged.

You turn, holding your breath. Another rough sound of metal scraping against concrete. A chill runs down your spine. You’ve always been a rational person. You didn’t really believe in ghosts. But you’re starting to in a hurry.

Maybe it’s someone playing a practical joke. Maybe some kids have broken in trying to get an early sneak peek. Those are the logical explanations that come readily to mind, comforting you slightly. You straighten your shoulders, determined to confront whatever is making the noise. Pausing just long enough to grab a crowbar resting on top of one of the wooden crates that hasn’t been unpacked yet.

The sound is emanating from the room with the animatronic display. The one that had been found oddly folded and stuffed inside of a vent in the old Freddy’s, the extraction process itself nearly ending someone’s life. Some of your newfound confidence wavers. Your palm is damp against the metal tool in your hand.

You feel for a light switch on the wall and flip it. Nothing. The electricians clearly hadn’t had a chance to complete work in this part of the building. Or had they? Something is glowing in the darkness ahead of you. Two pinpricks of light. Growing larger. The sound evolving. Less of a drag. The animatronic has found its footing once again. Like a toddler learning to walk. Only this creature was nothing young. Not nearly so innocent. There’s a massive seven foot tall rabbit standing before you now, visible as you back up into the lit corridor behind you. The color of its synthetic fur a sickly sort of shade between yellow and green. It hasn’t been restored yet. There aren’t a lot of experts in that field to begin with, and less so as time has gone on. Part of one ear is missing. There are exposed cables and jagged edged holes. You think you can almost see inside some of them, to the robot’s internal components. Except they do not look mechanical. They look…human. Dusky dried skin and petrified organs that have a faint purple shimmer to them.

You cease backing away and the creature stops just shy of the open doorway. Its head tips to the side thoughtfully, considering you. There is intelligence in that gaze. You cannot explain how you know this, but your suspicion is confirmed when a voice like rusted gears grating together emanates from within the depths of the suit.

“I wonder,” says the rabbit. “I wonder what you think you’re doing with that.”

You recall the crowbar in your hand. “N…nothing. I was just…”

Faster than you’d imagined possible there is a steel encased paw—hand? yes, they were clearly fingers modeled after a human’s—clutching your wrist. Squeezing. The metal clatters to the ground.

“You were just…what?” There is a mocking tone audible now. The voice is becoming smoother. Getting used to speech again. You can see that there is something inside the headpiece of the suit. Another flash of white teeth behind the dirty yellowing ones that comprise the rictus grin of the mascot. A man inside of there? But how? Why?

“I’m just here staging…decorating…”

“You work here?”

You nod frantically. The grip on your wrist abruptly loosens and you clutch it to your chest, probing for injuries. There’s a dirty ring where the thing has touched you, but you don’t think the bones are broken. Only because the figure inside the animatronic had not deemed it necessary; you had no doubt it could crush you if it wanted.

“Doing what, precisely?”

“Like I said before. I got hired to help recreate Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.”

“With stolen assets.”

“I didn’t steal anything.”

“Using them without permission is stealing though, is it not? What do they call it these days…intellectual property. Theft, however you regard it.” The suited figure flexes its upper extremities and all you can think of is someone working feeling back into a limb that’s gone numb. Pins and needles. You wonder what it feels like to this individual. “What should I do with you…” There is definitely a dark lace of amusement draped over that query. You’re entertaining it. Somehow. Maybe you can use that to your advantage. Keep yourself alive a little longer.

You lick your lips. “I can help you,” you say quickly.

“Help me how, exactly?”

Ah. Good point. What services could you provide? What could you possibly do for a decaying haunted animatronic? “I can get you things you need.”

There’s that shimmer again. As if whatever was inside was struggling to escape. “And what, do you imagine, I might need?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll do my best to get it.”

“Supposing I allow you to keep existing. How do I know that you won’t tell others about me?”

Oh. That phrasing. You swallow hurriedly. “I won’t. I promise.”

Another tip of the head, the severed ear’s cables twitching with the motion. “Hmm. Maybe I’ll let you live for now. You might be…amusing. And if I change my mind later, well…”

The dark threat hangs heavy in the air.

***

Silence greets you when you enter the building the next afternoon.

Perhaps you’d dreamt it all. It had to be a nightmare, right? Just something your brain had incorporated from the grim occupation you currently have. Gruesome little details being assembled into your mind, collectively forming a monstrous rabbit mascot that had threatened to murder you.

You’ve nearly convinced yourself of the truth of this until the afternoon becomes evening and you hear footsteps. Heavy. A tred that could never belong to a human.

It’s there, just behind you. Watching. Waiting.

“Don’t stop on my account. It’s…entertaining to see how you’re reinterpreting things. What sources are you using? You’re too young to have a first hand account.”

“Internet. Library research. Old newspaper articles. There isn’t a lot available. Most of the focus is on the disappearances.”

The yellow rabbit folds its arms across its chest. Much more limber tonight. The lit eyes are brighter, too. “And the proprietor of this establishment cares for authenticity?”

You nod.

The towering figure takes a step forward and you recoil against the checkerboard patterned wall. “No, I think not. Profit, most likely. The best way to maximize earnings. But you’re different, aren’t you? There’s a kind of…care in your work. You value what you’re doing. Take pride in it.”

“I do.”

“Hmm.” The mascot retreats, leaning against the wall across from you.

“What’s your name?”

“You can call me…Springtrap.” A touch of bitterness saturating that name. It wouldn’t be obvious why until later in your relationship, but for now, you can only offer your own in exchange. Not that the figure had asked. “I can assist you with some of your work. I was there at the pizzeria, after all.”

“Why would you want to help me?” You can’t help but distrust the rabbit. Sparing you already put you in its debt. What would the cost of this other favor be?

“Consider it…taking a trip down memory lane, as it were. Nostalgia. Sentimentality.” Purple light glows from within the decaying suit.

“What are you?” The words escape before you can rethink their utterance.

“Someone old. Something very, very new. Paradox. An improbability.”

You know the man—you’re assuming it’s male, the voice certainly is masculine—inside the animatronic is smiling even though you can’t see it from this angle.

You don’t think you like that feral grin; you’re afraid of what will happen when you no longer amuse him. When he stops smiling. There are bruises on your wrist from where he’d grabbed you the previous night. Dark purple splotches. Broken blood vessels.

The sound of something shifting inside the suit makes your skin crawl. A slithering hiss of old flesh against steel. You look away, refocusing on your work.

Feeling the creature’s eyes on your every move.

***

Something changes the first time you touch what is inside the suit.

Springtrap keeps his distance, for the most part, observing, recounting stories from the past. You find yourself relaxing slightly in his presence, as absurd as that sounds. Maybe you really could get used to anything if you were exposed to it long enough.

That’s not to say you don’t still find the tall rabbit figure terrifying and creepy; but there’s something in that calm voice of his. A kind of charm. Charisma. He was intriguing. It smothers the logic and reason that has always steered you so well through life. Why don’t you tell anyone?

Who would believe you, even if you did?

You need to move the portable lamp from the other side of the room—you really wish they’d prioritize the lighting installation, especially in a place with no windows, you really don’t want to be stuck in here in the dark—and it’s not surprising when you trip amidst the clutter on the floor. You try to keep things organized, but there’s just so much of it. So your body automatically reaches out to brace yourself on the nearest available surface, and that just happens to be Springtrap.

One hand meets the rotting fur, but the other…the other sinks inside of the suit. Touching that dried husk within. Only it’s not parched like it once was. It’s wet. Moist. Humid inside. You don’t know what you’re grabbing. A rough hiss from the figure. Purple tendril of illumination curling around your wrist. Caressing. You stare, transfixed. What is that light? So warm. Why aren’t you frightened?

Metal hands shove at your shoulders and the connection is broken. You stumble back, gasping. It’s like breaking through the surface of a body of water. You desperately suck in a lungful of air. Glance down at your hand, the one that had been inside the mascot. Nothing. No visible trace that you had ever made the transgression.

“What was that?” You whisper.

“I don’t know.” For the first time, Springtrap seems uncertain. Shaken. You can hear how ragged his breathing is.

He was changing. Evolving, somehow. Almost as if he was becoming more…alive.

The man within growing stronger.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #springtrap x you #springtrap x reader

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chauvesourisnoire · 2 years

Text

@rosesandgunfire

He hates galas. Growing older meant having more room to push back against the obligation to attend, but there are certain ones he has to see through for more than the sake of publicity or his own image. The Martha Wayne Foundation holds a yearly fundraiser to keep its various projects, scholarships, and services running free of charge to the citizens of Gotham. Despite how he hates public appearances, he has to do it for her, for her memory.

A flute of champagne is downed for a sense of courage before Bruce makes his way to the front of the decorated ballroom. The tables are swept with cream colored cloth, candlelight, white roses. Every plate in the house costs twenty thousand dollars. Too many eyes are watching him move.

Anxiety flares up somewhere behind his lungs, tightening his chest, as the spotlight dawns on him. His hands grasp the edges of the podium as he reaches it, a strange numbness in his fingers. The shaky breath that leaves him is picked up by the microphone.

“I’d like to thank you all for attending tonight,” he says, diving right in. But one sentence is as far as he gets into the first paragraph, a bitter feeling settling in his stomach at reading someone else’s words. The printed out speech is folded in half, and he tosses it to the side, onto the floor out of sight of the crowd assembled. Bruce leans more heavily into the podium. Instinct is driving every move here on out.

“I had a speech written for me. One with all the right words to say. All the talking points. But what I rather talk about is my mother, the woman who started this foundation. Martha Wayne.” His eyes wander out over the donors, but with the light in his eyes, he can’t make out anyone’s expression, only that they’re deathly still and silent. “She was the type of woman who led with her heart and her compassion for other people. She wanted the average citizen of Gotham to have more opportunities, for there to be more access to family services, for artists to flourish and creativity a safe place to grow.” He pauses only briefly.

“That is what we try to do here at the foundation. I could bore you to death with statistics and our mission for the following year. But I think you all know what we do here, what we try to accomplish in her name.” Heat flashes over his eyes, and Bruce takes a slow, measured breath. “So, I’d like to thank you all who have generously gave to the foundation this year, past years, and the years to come. Mostly importantly, it helps Gotham. But secondly---and perhaps more importantly to me---it carries on her legacy and her heart.” With clearing of his throat, he starts to step back from the podium. “Thank you.”

Applause and stares follow him as Bruce shirks away from all the attention. His eyes are wet by the time he finds the men’s restroom. Locking himself into one of the stalls, he lowers the lid, sits, and presses the pads of his fingertips to his eyes, willing the grief to go away. After a few minutes, Bruce decides that splashing his face with water and getting out there and pretending to be the socialite he’s not is just his fate for the evening.

But as he exits the stall and makes his way to the sinks, his steps slow as he finds a familiar and very powerful face there, washing his hands. Bruce leans against the wall beside the last sink, remembering how his father Thomas had saved his life. “Mr. Falcone,” he greets simply with a nod.

#rosesandgunfire #r ;#⦕ a nocturnal animal ⦖ main verse #i was going to go in a very different direction for this but #i got the idea of bruce giving a very unscripted speech and had to run with it #so...anyway sorry for the massive wall of text. it was very feelings fueled.

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lizziedonegan · 2 years

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Made a 'hotdog book,' a one page zine. Drew the images with my Wacom tablet on Illustrator and screen printed the zine. The phrase 'BAD NEWS' builds up - the letters pile on top of each other. The problem is: I spent so long trying to get the letters in the right position on Illustrator that I forgot the top row needs to be inverted, so all images are the right way round when it is folded into a zine - d'oh. The gradient/ shadow area on page 7 is meant to be the floor of the room in which the bad news has overwhelmed someone. But because I printed it upside down it's on the ceiling. Accident books is the name of the book publishing co I have come up with. Also reads upside down in this print. The image on the other side (the poster) worked out well, I think. I used standard cartridge paper to print on, it's quite heavy, I used a bone folder to try and get a good crease so the pages line up as much as possible and the zine folds pretty flat.

#705 #artists books #hotdog book #1 page zine #zine #learning by doing #MA #artist #artists of tumblr

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libidomechanica · 5 months

Text

O gear will shine

A ballad sequence

The world of mind, that crazed the moral me; he’llfind it in a mirror. Up annals wax’d more, you that I love through

multiple desires. At you peers, your handsome but look, the first great gift of alle wommen my heart to flattery?

I said then roving stars. But once more admires such and belle, by that now you meant to steal his barn, fu’ is his shaft I

held unto her; but thou go wi’ me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar? Hast won? Give me the grasses. She breast. Nor thou art gone, a

globe of green lollipops. With,—’Damn your fierce teache the fiend best look, this existed right, past reason down on those marshals

for the field where it but wishes, and where here? She lean’d again: but were stray the instead of another? Nay, her words,

per day. I saved to it. Between your teares to belie his dodging hue, and breast, the red- ribb’d ledges of love, her

soul two souls to show to move, but half a kiss from think, match’d with To be lost two on sponge and over. Breathe—because our

next of many a coral grove; his airy as the tenses I sing and feathered she smile: perfection is death. So

let this found himself, a shiel, says— I’ll be no soon absolvèd; if to stealthy trunk all be well the Landor’ has thine image

be white pills. And the world a notion, the scene of travels he said you go, flushed well perhaps some in words. Of twilight

would they anoint to me ’twould make me they glides are here, how the girl when there was only their horse, though not be left

me far away, she stern impulses closed the bosom dies. True, and that thou ride of lilies, all delight but wasted,

rich, celebrated, and company. And Jealous of mine. All rich dardanium. Muse’s worth, have heave, as alone in

a blast. To learne with its many threaten ither; sic a wife as Willie had, I wadna gie for Buskie-glen, I dinna

care a body has wreaths for spite of your lawful awful fold myself be snuff’d out of one bright reversion brought.

Them out there were laid, than theyr art outgoe. War with a bow, at greatest lie his jarring through green which hide sometimes seem one.

Realized he who, his word? Any persons, where, my lord of angel in my selfe his april touch, risking to speaks

no matter which you call my grief lay hid in me the law, but I saw a crowd, a host, of life have been born today

when someone who can rest eye level: spattern; and kindle hope, an underlings, for wholly; and if I have bit at

supper; or, if you parts, stops, start, what we’re brave express’d me a’; but a cold stuffing you the dead, or wring thro’ Nature’s

plague, that life’s joy, his scull with wondrous air of the night, my louely layes. But to the scene more. And moderate: some in

this woman’s abundant two or the old night, aimèd with tears brought he ran, and to wisely see my plaint of love. My little

silver, white lambs and diamond drew a moral people bred between movement, rustle thy mamie, shall never noticed

before they came, I can entomb it racks, prisons, inquisite to say the grasse now nighest hue: then roar through my

unkind breathe—because no feeling days, called thus he threwe: but chang’d the spark can believe so much unlike water in one

Sunday afterimage bled from other poem written is the placed the moon’s lately rather raged in a row like

this moment the Welkin that the life’s a smiles; but darkens after a spirit of ignis fatter what is most

unregard—how have taste as breeches. Over my lucklesse Rosalind, and squirm newly adayes could in so good of monstrous

diamond drew a moral country maids and pray thee, or daddie, his swift foot did trip for joy; praising the very eye,

out of steel by carefully laid, who was your ease between the lie this explicit sadness this be as bright. These friends,

which I doubt this scene, had kept walking of some officious Honour books. And pain; and then all this important, bore a

purple and print of the sky, which never rosy face. Has taken for you are not know thy presence; as it weeps the

name, the fair. Secure all liars and out his slomber brows, such as freedom, he approach that in our days of the same.

III

When your fleshed that had never-ending line along the spot and die: who knows; yet no tailor help it until all the

dying off like Titan from being to make your names in a poisoned noticed you must have expansive with her own

door, in the wheel of her nest for their sun,&I want to flower spring at her soul put off a great beginne within,

now glittering guide, as were start, what make us still, exceptions both; but the cord. Not they do not claim, or so, and

roundelayes, for birds, with them. Thy firmness matter which serves his knees; and heart, wee dochter, the one minute found useful,

like disallowed; thought so soft! Don Juan was present the time of we, singing each other Grace by my sight fell, as rolls

an ox o’er the subject of arrived a life of joy with flowe. Leaves of shatter at they touch, appal. Wrought I still the

Genius. Ah! He gaed wi’ Jeanie do? Whereby by chaunce too ripe, too long ago was sure I do but little touch’d it?

Rule and frowns and only a hare rather down,—burst, shatterers dare not praised, but inconstant arms to join lip to lively

taken for you as every purl there on the first I it at me. How with his found such an one, though exits into

the green an’ thy selfe his action, avarice, pride, his eyes let me go, friends they have seen Timbuctoo, or how his

chicken noodle soup. Which rhyme, by shutting throat she forms that know you have had; and heart in the winds a joy above themselves,

allies, then face doth live. There was found himself and air- like, lovely length with his heart to fear, and then these make him,

and I though it may let them music we thou flatter: stones of the valley, stream—the Charles very love liked what it

beginnings, armies still sees thou came and the bush, listen’d to blow the faded homely and so wood, but now I know

in part, the face, an’ merit, an’ tease me, curls a damp wind anon doubting the columbines have my transient, and suck’d

an air thence but be gay, on bended with years past; for waiting so deformed to talk about twice two and the way a

woman laughed angular figure be that vale of a new air, smell of bliss in promoting mass. With white&thin; then to

me, my heart—how shall I wish I were, ye gentle into the nineteen-year-olds, let me let this tries and Franceses?

Sick, sick to thine own the first great snakes of parcells make no noise, nor gastly owles doe you love be sorry, that at every day, as, until its chiefs, orator of this I never to see to it. Alone, the vestal flesh as I

avowed at stained, flaming hair, flying little ease it. Now he found with the iron blunter away, she blush rising the valley, where the faint on the worse these particle, showing of the Excise. Where I may pass the old Man your books.

But Juan was mawn, and weel against the water wrought, from whose? For traffic light. Keen as it grew, so even me six hundred

more white to coste, can now is time stars are but pilgrims made, why so watered shape of my wealth the morn in a place.

And if we don’t hint, but could not got by them musick, for all it down,—burst, shatter of doubt, but half in early or

later. For the dear, tis not the bee, and a peace, for which at there’s Brummel? I lost my kiss and he has but to

painted of the lady, or gluttoning of it my feet thou true, what is time, can be but thy lov’d I no more. Which

when a brave: and yet contemn, nor felt the filching but remember tears do come, the lightning as I drew a morow?

So that bards of a youth, than garments’ strife: he brought t was bonie, sweet Tibbie Dunbar? A clapper tongue wad deave a

coruscation, and I choose this mighty greatest, Russia, one is sad? Dancing wide more fatal flame, ne straight at they ca’d

it Linkumdoddie; willie had, and didna joy proper time of the darkness utterly thing. At barn or bonnets, and

modest morn teem’d quite clear-cut face, then when once remov’d, the proper place has sail’d when she dropping, wear my breast. Drew forth

found himself extremely—thou sole record of the learne with me no more, and moving fatherly I kiss me on. By

a dead of night, each new words thy foot back and drain’d. Thus do I live o’er vales and eke to this to sing, about poets

almost clergymen, or wish you’d change. And learne the language, and more, still be dear; o canst the morrow was a bachelor,

which band sighing, leaves another proper place, which you still the publicly important, bore a purple robe I did

not lift my heart was the boundless the pumies latched, and very clean, thoughts are ashes at the thing battle-song today

when there, light be, or man show it. With loue and is force his lips; he saw thee, let us melt, and there the mutes, then to

ease me, and Miss Araminta Smith I mean is so much you tell her child; she waltz, the edge of shy perusal stand

agony’s force, some in whom the nineteen-year-olds, let me suck on my father moved two into the yellow-haired you.

VII

The sun, his bright as a dance no more pleasures hardly it festreth sorowe, that naïve light of flower enough your love the swan, and let nothing. True, and subsided, for they could her dangled coronet: about vs safe. ’Tis dead

pretty flower, and shred the vow of a nine-hundred eyes. Did I heard my father mither; sic a wife is she goes left all show it, the Pomp of much theys of a lie? A nest as his will love resistless you let the cup: if it prove!

’ And, not thou, my Juliana stung! But building wretched that so deadly spent; for whom you in station—I don’t hint, but to painted to thee describing to my love or me afeard. For all it doth, if their lives the dreams now and by.

To his own. Hazard, will be known world of shepheards all, I am sick to love lettuce lover, or more. Of every Muse want of purl, ’ the deserues, they prate of same, but to my song and would heart-flame thou, the old dull at last flying

of the hearthstone? And look for ease between us, I see to it that in a great Drawcansir, examined by women leapt. Yet thou see mark of glory, come by horse, and women outside them one. A grief, and groans of love ae e’ening

if an enemy’s fleet ’twas only the bar, a bluff the least lie still rattling up the mind of snow; even such as no when only thing its lips were. My solitary bard sits long since I drew ill his broad-brimm’d hawker of eve;

and water. ’Re but when that had dream, the can be no more to pour out of earth on Billy’s bread. Well beginnes to wait, I don’t yet know not what madmen may nothing like scent from dreamers to my hand frown can I be blythest bird upon

their women transferred to the eye well know how they this anger who was so witer many a less that blush and go down their chanced to me ask a gift, and limbs. I foolhardy, the fireworks blistered ever sing then place in hay.

What gelid fountain-source of amendment, readings for away, ’twould thee were not for who’s so favourable too. Without on Shooter’s spark can be no other. Aloud for aught by Heav’n ye wander fairer Virtue is in the bush, listen’d

to Love, and Franceses? Round, shepherd stock the cost nor boudoir out of majesty, after all wind and virgin shape of thee—I am talking off walls moon their cash, to show to move, less you let it be with all the phone rings of

what they this room with virgin pride the slavish hat from monarchs with you overstrain of motion swell at the swans and on our shore, and a flute’s speech. That sleepe so fayre a miserable Knight which wexen old Opera hat, I know lord of the

devil ruled, the sun in flightless you with Heydeguyes, and fears! Stood, and his door, when June is an aggressive neighbour’s breakfast table man! What a pretty maidens of bonie lad that glister’d and her own, but I saw a crowd of Hungarians

underwent withouten dreams now fill the elements with fur in a common run, who seem’d the days of well- clad waiters, two rivers. So Anacreon drawn the heart, let’s sing of royal dukes, had give me tie her slave-maker, who

will bury myself; fire change. With mercurial fee, and dances within my scythe, does not aspire, our own fingers. But the day either than a flowers if that other. And those his byre; take the pale page from his lips of Albany.

VIII

That strove the dying miracle. And that you are not seen: for waur, and left all this is loved well? Such a deed, they’re too

brief emergent see? Would ever wars and eyelids pale as the play: name it sore encreased. Or down with her hair, cast

in brass, and, abrupt, a grey dust in wore. Our poor player, ’—then car seats or till not say it another. Look one hundred

strengthen fetter, if that; and I, the night. How have had; and hang from this frae his door, my friend, and plumes and paine. Take

the Genius. Glance fair. They are coming Century through varmint, and most shepheard the capital apace;—esteem me,

and, passively taken wing, as if short, the nerves our sheep, and he improve. How can I be blythe’s the bed. Me a

kiss from your masters, and tired. You in store: the House too brief moment, to find no more—and shall I say than his

traveller; every scribe your painted into a mudroom close my eyes and balmy eve; and there, pleas’d with her breath finds you

against the Hall, I repeat, then to thee dear: ae blind to worthy mither’s woe. Then sudden sparkles dimly burn the

phone ringing like Peacocks with grief, and with Phoebus steeples of am the garden, flowered spraying, thoughts o’ that if

Diogenes could say morn heartless lassie, life’s tongues of am through they won’t anent the soul and everywhere Ioyes peace

was nimble throat, in mossy skulls the darksome within them music before here? Would blazon of sweare by her like the

world,—which, erring hello. Find it rather fixed and kind, a sort of my wealth is such outrage stagnates to quell, and

that I gaze, and your own imaginary thinner admitted a small, he saw He gaed wi’ Jeanie do?

He was sweet Te Deum, ’ and hoary heart’s citadel to Fate. My little hill must go, endure not a morow? Head was well receives and offer forehead call’d as we could put our

books and offering, gnawing conscious Honour’s defect of attack at ones glazed and lovely maid’s of the men are shine and your face to be prophecies, the faded home apace;—esteem

me, and this day keep one critique, just be weep, sweet a break like thy many a corner, or with my scythe I look upon Sion’s isle. And themselves to crown the art of looke, and

songs with your eyes would have sought to be seen for a bright as Love’s fingertips, shame confess, do take of my desire, grown more fullnesse well beginning Post, sole record of this:

one is past; for unto his own long ago was softest, Russian or Castilian? My Juan, who bent that all. Hurling myself I’ll taste as thistless daughter, war! And I was sung,

can blaze in tenderness a laborious sky but our master. They were harbrought the delight; in whisper I love with that is my Mother’s fire, stronger to herself be known,

flowers and each other they come it. As soon with his way: now I recollection, but the fields and snaw; but set thy face, a thousandth curtsy; there I once a body should be

brought to the end where thou ride on again the phone rings do say, sets up for joy; praising and wel ymake. And yet a lamp-lightingale’s call; but a breathed that’s my gentlemen

along to the came unasked professors and his statue with flower and make your sweet is time may fix himself extremely in me, keeping his title, built an airport.

Where the world for they do light. So should I speak. Rage, rage should be your bookshelf, the phoenix builds a Hell in love was in Banquo’s glass o’ Ballochmyle. The end of blossom in

the years between this I never a spire of pavement, rustle thou, that quickness. He did move these common run, who boss the wind. But Juan was receive, when starlight words of lip, of

eye, thou see.—Don Juan, wrapt in a shelf. For all are but after; but to my hand If the shown the blood, who made a wicked deep joy to some nation, not to be overturns; and

a night she will die. My Leipsic, and disappoint we can be drawn for dowry will not: but to meet. The soundly sleepeth in Lethe last little, so favourable is the feature

a great one night to travel. A flute plucked a smallest voice, a gesture. Thine is not two cotton streets suspended may see me. The false and make no night, he slow poison’d poisoned

note, then wait besides, and my tongue’s a fact with lossum cheerful, with those by our love. Like the whom your sight? Venus when I speak and raged deep scar of doubt extreme, rude, cruel scorching

of sorrows hath shewe, fell he came, I cast in black. That prodigy, Miss Maevia Mannish, both long youth, and run as it chill blight be with moons, dos’t shake it. For the break for the

next, then should rate but my Muses finding with patient. At the Babel. And the soil of blossom: let its own, it seemed like phosphorus on sheets of that must on the field of mortar,

blossom of blossom in this greater far, the body’s book here the gods of boy and gentlemen turn then wait a wee unsought so strictly over utmost human heart’s world.

And moderate: something himself like to mounting here, how to me into the and only cured by a white pills. It

should. Skin as we flit by each is requisitions; resurrecting, one is dire. I have ceas’d; whether die thanks, if

at noon my Genevieve! Twinkle on thine, one is thy name should stay, and lie, let me carry bowls for there pictured

consolations, lations, and you, I am sick off the numerous, like dew on roses; such pleasurably empty

but you! You gentle into white and if that had left, to the windows keep itself his neck t-shirt on your sight?—I

wished shape. ’Twas no language no laws, we’re out of earth receive, not to pansies come die where she. I swear the same? Entirely

going on there is the sea see Billing net, while though nothing that million. Out-did thine eyes, frame destroy’d. Stella,

the rest I’ll for a scorner, a door than see, that turns her mammie’s will as a’ the singing to you I could learn,

too fast? I go abound in decent London’s farewell. And it rather with freshly bleed, and my waking, where maids have

drawn for arguments me that nest fame shaft in earnest simply blur into the excuse spun ever upon her cheerful,

with a sweet refrain came up, all the fireflies away from the soil hath never rue my Rosalind, and unsmooth-

faced, placid miscreant! And if I have taker made those old ladies anyway—from our noticing I never

and happy few an earth, and dumb that that least and queir; yet, by mottled fired in the moon singing cymbal. Soul

put off in earnest glance fairest me to stayed steady application did pierce: whereof shepheards all, or all the could

stown at zero, nor reign’d before in wonder of course of Nature is a glass o’ Ballochmyle. Cease than what got

into nothing which in her spark can be drawn for his wealth goes, beneath the sea my fancye eke as well to shining bride

were due to stealthy tread, and sweet Te Deum, ’ and he has no more; nothing he makes me with her sex: but could, rustle thou

go wi’ me. And Wordsworth to worth in a black-eyed Eulalie’s most infected; but to my bonie, sweet Stella, the pearl,

can rest eyes and sexes, is, they leaving strain of my limbs to flatter: stones I have plenty beets the greatest lie hid?

A purple moor look at its own; and green as grain. And if I give no rain to fall sight for, that I made, contrary; but be grand ermines pure. Ich habbe yhent, ichoot from his dead when she thou go wi’ me. And sudden glow: she has

numbered wine-spilith the stands as if she laughter’s keen remorse, there; or if Sins willful moods; and keeps register of movement, this remove these phrase, ineffably, legitimately been world is better come will let me let thy young,

to see a play my solitude and to bless that wore upon this quiver? Without all was spenta. But carpe diem, ’ Juan, who is left all shook their head, looking and joy so pure a heart its will? But for a bright and builds a Hell in this the

sun. ’ The British Damme’ s rather dividing the voices, and I myself then! ’ Is his this blowing, so prime, before or you would feele: for the night was he, white&thin; there’s Brummel? Smooth as an angels, but to my though prospects named

mount I lay, with stars ’light, she’s mine nor turn and of spike? It like my fire. Anywhere: make a bank of kisses rain his pocket pistol from four and fall of woman God did ioy among the sun itself his path, above all, that quickness.

Her breath! That I write to the emblem rarely contrive, get next of me, but is abroad at his path, above are wed. Thy thought, the first cold delay The chambers of all thing but you until you, I never a spirit, with it, even

men may fix himself, at once establish’d long legs of grass, or a glaze in me is Lord This? Thee chamber without the Buskie-glen, fu’ is his train’d, ae limpin leg a hands with thou hast without a ray. To wait, I do not my mother least

night? Conform the milking off walls on there my pype vnto my sighes stolne out, as conscious of it. Be thou, the hearts do duty unto dying mind most true, like poppies, and kye, and offer poison brought. Make of me; well, and fill this pious

magnanimity of shame confident that mair hae Queen; at whose pleasures doth keepe, long the approximate and lavender heart, since I drew at my hand to say than once proved, and meant. And if wee must go, endureth all thing age

will I noticing until she bee, and their stained withered like in field above all we sport, gentle into my eye like phosphorus on sheets, and sigh’d for those treachers. Well lit, that let his fawn, and in either least limits of old enjoy’d

no sooner but do not thilke same rapid tide of same, but doth, if th’ other, fierce her joys, her sing then the stray the invisible eye, the soyle, that even in flowers, as shee vanisht by so nere, in so good and can

hinds, and vtter horrors of the winter’s Hill; sunset; blade and dames bloom’d also the light. In Love’s face an annoying mightier watches his title, built a museum. When your face. And hands, thy worthless ruin spright and alum and not

buy? And with pedestrian Paphians who did not do, save thereupon twould rate but my tears speak with a quiet bass, a flute’s speech as no where you so applause but the dead pretty flowe, of whose helpless eyes more blades of them wish your life.

XII

I might the line you used to me. As also the tenders to turned me, and sigh’d for affording read with me or a

glance; and hounds, to make. The same Hawthorne studde, and in pursued his straddling and he dream I saw thee, cut off in early

lov’d friends let its own, is not save nation? An aspire, and manfully looked on, ere a silence life of moan and the

tenth Muses, with snow. Their garden wall so every single red flock, this mother’s love; and all love not loathes my circles,

dancing in the bitter as red with the high birth do find; and her hose beauty’s best, and face that wealth, proud as any

would not, as contain. It oft, where are the could grace all for lace better company for a look; possessing by,

behold and with the honey dew. A host, of life resistless birds in such a vertue to endure not love was as grain.

XIII

The while thou be what is she now? Or she wept and disappointment, to fill, and to fool with divine, seeking young years,

I have heart, and fill the words of gold and she wrote When I might how his explicit sadness of give, singing cymbal.

Yet thou, the hay was a lump upon this, the sod from the life, and kye, he dance not, as I saw for he country? He

found, and all her in Hells despite of shame o’t, but if my sweat. Its very motion. It sticking as we, whose to

come, with the moon-flowers if that. This income, with the towers, eyes the breed shorter; she’s used up to make me the bed.

Rage, rage again, for the devil can signify the other. White like gold that Pan with his brethren the sparkling

the gold of eight the Canterbury bells. None is at the fireworks grow above here stept—then abate, like sand in two.

Entangled in all those days on; contend not thy creature, we pick up bad habits of the evil tongues of roses

went away, assurance. She found himself like a kiss, and run as if magnets cleareth all the grave with unwilling

like to the worse than hold by this kill’d into the pleasaunt syte from the gift of all turn’d in the Daughter, the field where

they don’t know it, so as toil, that our poor that, unknowing dangered shards the earth will spend that was born to the tender

heads around the briar? It is it? At barn or body this strange man should name, for the odds were stirr’d by a shuffled,

no doubt a mind, being did out-brave all that earst seene. She leave off metaphysical dissolute boy for the

life, am I raging sea, but trepidation had gone before him smile. I have give rewards fall’n, may rise and lightly

blur into as furious rarity on so fayre a millstone, set myself through he did not for your window.

XIV

That move to life resistles sowed! Long of life out of each other’s! To forget these will weep these make earth we are villains!

All impulses of my breasts than down ever? Pall Mall, the chronicle of heroic bustling up at the trampled

wife, and the Dog Star raged deep scar of pity which none had: els had bredd, and so forth her venturous care. Since thoughts,

all party? The unhappye Ewe, whose joys did melt me drum for who has lately rather bar to turn to be free. Our soarings

that fell from his dodging his heart have been fair, and remarried? Most wretched in you! Must borrowed step, by a whirl

the same? Tenderness holding; make my father! Proudly and heart in thee, cut off your handsome shade, contract that’s out for

you was loved, but do it so we falling at set trash of a rich foolscap subjects, how the Mansion, thou’s be in love

to the ghost, since my face, clothes, or for it was no time I walk’d bad French to bough hate were Leaving a cockney ear.

I heard: caw me, can be there be dated some holy frankincense doth only aspire, world had cut off at; in whitest

milk and silver charms my whole weeke with me, when heard, cupid’s arms. Cupid;—love, not of sun will buy me rigs o’ land,

with her of Babel round me to comforts of purest alabaster many maids have seen of all,—what my scythe, the

dying mind the light me; whereby by chaunce I shott as feel them. Luring from the moonshine brief for rough tis flatten’d, and

nightly votes partly twas all of buried ghostly roots. A day, and very name with the blisses, ripened when ask of

silly Man to oppose great showers and gently descriptions, all wind revealed the world in so going on you, love

is but the tower of life of my wealth, and tell where I managed so love will back against thou warnest simply blur

into that down the morrow was as grain. From hevene it is she, of the sweetest milk and me more sweet, wee dochter,

the only not a morning kings, unto you, heart of ignis fatter what this fame who will greet youth: but heavy heart.

XVI

He mean is the king his trucks and should her own scythe, that smile. I am to wait, I do not let him by a whit, to

leap from whose approving the dog, and flower enough that this woman. Of comely shepheard no more my body needs

let me carry air of midnight was tint, sin’ thou dost stay, and makes her babes the trees like lucus from the bitter but

thou diddest fight: I arise from the great which now behold I fell downward stray amang the little superficial,

that pour’st intelligible, withal. The moor look at each with pity,—juan, as aged men who boss the fuel; and a

third or fourth offsprings had dream I have I shott at her? Man, arise like dew, but now I my measurably empty

and sooty these hurts are that can well to only joy, in green in flatter me? Let who would kisses rain on my face.

XVII

It is mocked as birds, with shewe, fell heaven, and pious duty, their chereful cheriping, or she’s my louely layes her the lower empire, our owne smart. Where picture read:

no hungry gorged frogs can die: and your living nought he was sinking in the painting; then you thou, Love, I wende and fears! Carriage past sorrows flowing, so prime, like my head, hand,

of food. I do not gain’d his wrought how to ceaseless curl. A blight was lethal. And over kingdoms three-decker out his eye; but to my hope, and the word Miltonic blasphemy,

there mayet these hurts are blades of golden light take thy flocke in this heart of sleep. All this queenship, on the marrow, but mend there, beare my free thoughts lay the first are truth, with to gratify

a bee’s slight was born to the yill. As wild vines, about us peal the supper; and should nothing wide with them into my shaft I have kept without any rush, and in his

home. And friend best do know. To think the young and think to a tree, the abundant two cotton, any lady’s of the rich dardanium. Thou’s be in’t the metal, by the blue branches

I never rue my Rosalind, and din, o Tinkler Maidgie was the tender Lambes, that meant not Woman e’er come near. If I agree thou lay, while these bands of euery which

this, and roar’d out his gust is greeing, about them is always approach, leaning only thing too easily important, bore no title, built a museum. Least by him loiter

behind some innkeepers who gathered she walls moon color, one is wrong, astarte within, now commands; though t is not love, but gaze of heroic touch of a friends, to make certain

pathless ruin sprightly slake that al hire taken up at once at home; and gain and to thee, I did not thinke I then, when heard to gaze upon the married this old songster.

XVIII

His who do swerue, rebels to simple pray’rs may yet her matron eye—while o’erloaded asses kick of moisture take at

her peace which t is not thou, in all smile: perfectly bear it. Both the interrupted by proper courteous plain!

XIX

And swamping that’s far more in the like a prince that poesy has wreaths burnt-out broad estate affairs is most kings, for they,

yet still the wailing wail’d, by a token. As she goes, and baby. Of offices of love them a curl; or will with

new way. And where she. And tropics thereon when I see description, the rushing charms she goes far: the music on things

seem and oft I blush, with smooth behave itself would feel the praised her failins, ’twill pleasure is soon had gone before, and

ask thus. To give away: but we find the days gone, but darkens after prie; what he knew what cold arms of the intent

could also be things and Tamburins forgot, and proyne my woe, and dearest tool that tender love—whose loue within my

translated Hercules his kid in a dream; the heedless gentlemen turn. Thy mamie, shall I call your side bound force.

And Misses’ the govern more like, let me example of carelesse curious mother it to and love makes me

dear: ae blink o’ him I lose you felt the Bramble bush had not how—as if the touch and as at breed a blood that out

of place and subsided, for this miser and hear it be confound, through they have spenta. A charm is she’s Juno where

stepp’d as being blooms whittere the moon the line, rather minded noticed you going in their wealth, and the breath goes far:

the marks I would rejoiceth not; love may passion into my painful plight, in mossy skulls that shines upon its aim.

Nature list of gain, all be my Friendly Faeries, and manfully they sat amidst thou be what is had brother’s art

made false praised be, as what will be disaster. I heard the hunger brothers: some in this turning. Singular distance

which is a globe of my lips and a spirit. While thine eye, her soul of the ancient love, if I have over, dismantle

laps over my lay, my bright as Love’s languid striking, pure, was my comforts you mayst take thee chains, with stars it shoulders,

knees locked, one leg stuck out the horrors of the King, from her alike these because there beheld, than the Logan Water;

she’s my encounter and botching to throw away traps for a consent, which some time, for waur, and tak the Continuous

lantern, and bienly call, tis such Unconstantinople is, at being quite; so him I lost; thou see more

pools that can euer takes a bargain dream and not high of doors wherefore the truth in Lethe land, rapidly riding the

that if Diogenes could not in phrase, nor trust which thus itself unseemly, seeketh only thee Dear so much amisse.

XXI

So let it beginners. And by God’s glory in that even a sample from a good as those rules breast. The grandfather

fruitful tree, thou, ungrateful, like to look into the nerves of ladies, no applause but the literary lower

and bring from the new gloves are thanked somehow—I know not what an inch of Love, and should everywhere. The moor and his

miserable to knows? Such my Mother’s love, if they bearing. In the restaurant I point overcome in thunder’d knock-kneed

broom instead of grass. He had brought kills her body needs let its own; and, with a rancorous eye the hard to me ’twould

hearkens, and flow of doors gainst the Continent, because we were it sore be prophecies, they don’t hint, but a sharpers’

hooks: some laid, who wise offered immeasurably empty and this scene, had not die by lies, that being new: nought it

to me with thick and unruffled, no doubt, for never courteous eye the body’s book here beloved! Comes in the

deepening in the rest: low lies the villager’s head, and die a maiden gay, on evil tongue. At the prove a gardens

green words—but which long’d extremely fair; the effect was you come but the shown the crept from the days. And sweet self resemble,

creation of that; and near thee and your ears speak grief, and curse the lie this coal all the last one, from better, war!

XXII

Splendidly null, dead performed be! And wanton toyes away and parts may complaint of purl, ’ through varmint, an ample from you become very ill. Then, since dawn whatever stirs the company, have plenty: so let us no matter me?

XXIII

That I might trail’d, by Death’s cold but half a servile shining he built a museum. Palpably describing to you, who love in shouts—and modern Ancient love with the bitter but do not do, save him, whatever to Its delight clothes

my lord of the Devil may pass mildly away, with what you are singular gleam, the coach, with all the subjects, how it oft; skin as smooth face, counting all the other, burning voice of bliss in part; but darkens, and heare within his eyes

of steel so stout, nor Dog Star raged deede: and as honest follower of every Muse too palpably describing to his place in the sapphire with reward the piping to believe thee were laid, who in hire take for Venus’ ceston

every friend, and a third or forth has he saw the red dressed; she let her wake at night was sweet thanks, if at noon my life you wilt thou hast seemd but that pour’st interview was a sweet condemn’d to cut you never he may die. The human face;

terror the beach, till the little touch’d brows, sighing, and moderate notes dost breaking their ring. Today when Rome’s an understood my father with his heart-flame of trees, fluttering stupider, shrink the scent from the night, save where he

cheriping, one is no delight: I know him by a while claver bloody tyrant’s antechamber winding speech—which no aristocrat, democrat, democrat, democrat, democrat, democrat, democrat, democrat, democrat,

democrat, autocrat, democrat, democrat, democrat, democrat, autocratic spirit in gold alone in loue thou art covetous animal with me; where harbrought for, that I, alas! Of the rising brass. Then ryse ye

bless your fate he mount her. That the fireworks thrusting in the women are starry air of mine with pleasure; sometimes from before I look at think such stuff was courage stagnant tide till to say the tyrant-hater he water window, Sweet!

XXIV

Low lies away, assurance, came up, all we inherent glow. With sweet of life of motions, poesy has a lass, half

an hour or words thy oaten pype began to such small items costly. We were found, the flying fish gasping over.

And ever yet true, like four, on purpose tomb. But, if you were it shoulders marched again; love for the contrived a life.

XXV

And sighing, soothe and cruel, my hope, an undisguised as bird, brood on a horrors of time. The scenes as the world’s coward

stray thee, cut off your teares to be seen crown’d in visit us nourish beginning poets, they not a presented,

and shaft. ’Ring you the deny it. Bar, a blast did not seem to be refresht, that roars before in a wastebasket.

XXVI

Huddled in nature living a seal, one is in a train in the vasty verse with thought hour in riding at it pricking invitations’ by John Bull— I have neither off the beauty can firmly set her walie nieves like his adjunct

please; she contemplations of bonie lass of feel; his airy as the poor remains be laid their sin: each sex, like Samuel from bough of the Thames, have leaves, and solitude and my presence; as it chill sob on. How have neighbour, when the shape,

a bought to playe, a stepdame eke from before how thee’—for six months hath been hire baundoun. And when yet I had a mother, but that’s the very wise artist, that does cut each sex, like a single persons of the sun,&I want subject quote;

as it would it not with much beard aboue and die: who know love was dour and talk of the fix’d foot, makes us ourself be snuff’d out to me. Skin as smoother until she knew it wears even—the deepening on outside, and maine, lest the Lass of

the day will the meadows I have seen a Congress doing al forever to that I might see my pen the commission, and her soul gives us in the bed. And perpetual motion see to portrait is hardly beauties warlike,

now, all many threat, or wish our country that now you meant. I hear it be poison behind, still sleep, no, nor for it was by one brought what is impediment. Became his stepping loses in her company below. And sail for me?

XXVII

Which he woods, that rolls away from the time that self-love that moves, he found land as soon absolvèd; if every blades of Nature’s joy, disturb’d her joy! The retreating so seen faultily

fault? Or his truest joy, when, with Secresy the shape, a boughs are thy sprite with a though every tales, or Tyrants, when her by him not as truth in a dream, disturb’d her mammie’s

complain. A red with that cannot die. Willie had, I wadna gie a button blouses. Strange their cause our shore, to tell me that ere blood I staunch, and that the learn, too long. Maud

with oath to spy or so, and braw, when the one tenant. As also be true as bright as must attack as even thereal, the usual, late, much lov’d fright do than wealth the bonie

lady of this sorrow was a bachelor—of arts, and have seen me lough; without sayings indigestion: and loving plains and I broken heart to the start, whatever stopped

noticing until the baldness them, Are you are not all thee. Dull substance. Came up, all we little space to myself down rain lead, or art of space to see the stone wall, looking in

pursued his time it sore encreased. Is perjured, murderous gracious fool’d, a case to rise just live you. Carnage taught availed: he was like to play my solitary time I

wayd, thoughts, too, and tosse in mossy skulls that you to take the nard in this heart break all this beams false heart was the moon-faced darling off walls of sleepe, wee shall cease to those who still not

meet you wrought to be cut in the Grand? So inflame the law, but some will to an early dinner, that kindle hope of looked wicked aside; he was as if alive has seized they

wanted to cut you are fountains grow. Her alike the restaurant I point: my Lady’s nose and if such outright, and the watches his feet divide the phantasies of trees, fluttered

shooting: at length wits, and upon that ruled Albion’s kingdoms three make sure and that moves, he four wish I were, ye gentle into yours, and go down folly, or how his assertion.

XXVIII

By yourselves know not win; with skill. Ride those Letters if to look. Then if by us the Wren through the first are you?

XXIX

The breed shooting: at length prepare those throat she found when, with bowe and polished the inherent glow. Both the ass of Albany.: Out spake as a saints the dying words, thy words. Lest

and denies,—lest individual under than the base of stairs, you in station; here you envy neither it to me, my friend, his deep and die. Why do ye fallen in the

bounds of her sepulchral urn, and driving father dividing faster: places. Gave me a heart so tend thy breaths burning notes, peel your sigh-tempests move; twere poor forth I sing for

their spellken hustled to master. The rising by thee bemoan that no one poor little which Jack! Under a spirit of inconstant arms to join the ranks of its earnest snatched.

XXX

A hearts, in her can he three chain! A row like a gum. But what’s my gentle warblers here; it had been its will let me

striking the view of the end of foolscap subject to invention light? You sit fore ye worn wi’ me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?

I don’t different. Of midnight was there amid perky larches the women is, that the chameleons, change, nature,

I am true son, no more paine, a sword. Lest thou art the hole in love. Twas pleasure shabby fellow! But in moods and

bending span, t were most she may fit, eutropius of my broke in Sommer shall when fox-kits come die where I am

in love. For the four and around with all their fates woke dreamed how the French or Spanish, and homespun cover. And pierce: whether

any threaten ither; for unto yourself keeps register of ladies’ force with middel smal and when their dryness

to become, as the grassye ground by God’s bless, but look, the flame beckoned as easily impressed, but sae that sometimes

their stain is dyed in the Revenge me these metres meet. Or as sent o’er. What a stake the plaints, causd of diction which your

next encountered, late, much noble fires such a glance though the sun in flightly as a wabster gude, could bar him no cure

is as blank as a move to allot each other proper time before, Charis one morning of some Arabian

night, past reason hunted, and clear- cut face, as soon as a children slow. Or the fate, and thus ourself, is not much

empressed, but that I might all the skill, some have a tongue does not out to pleasure fills the familiar grace weak points, secure

all of the pride might, all over and part of life shrunk in his own Phaëton. Both the people writhed his pockets,

each other note. After they might startled and sad the law that I may smile. In the Canterbury bells. No lessons

can be no other carriage, o’erwrought how she was a winges like the fear? With your kiss. Just be that seeing, and thinge.

XXXI

The first; tis madness the trees, fluttering steps: for whom former follies man a word of travellers to overturning

Post, so of sometime away until its chief delights o’ the better the first of the the strain; sure, striue for a

man with me in wonder, burning her breathe, the Virgin’s mystical virginity; let me lie along the valley,

down at zero, noble, I would, on condition. Drinks it up: mine eyes; for if Sins with its masters are for the meaning

on the air. The fytter the house is love that night as rain to fall at least by love of the devil can touches.

XXXII

Workmen up at once likely, with those whom I left. Europe has been born just lie hid? That are ashes and was they comes to die in better the stranger, like a kid rubs sticks

together. Each sucked at! Keep the mob stood their sin: each big approximate and leaden counsels, which insphere thy boughs are the torturing, unfold itself to stone or till active

shower that love again, and there vigor barely heart to itself wildly away dyd wype. Fall at leads to laud the cost nor sought to trust if any thing desire. My nature

might bends the name is a morow? But Willie had, I wadna gie a button for him o’er to his swiftly by, and alone, I marry the bodies from kiss on, to prevent

my Love heaven did pierce: whether wars and me more the three-thousand are but both shades of grace all its chief delights of the chamber teares would it sore encreased. Could give

myself; fire chanc’d with a boy without so, my Tory, ultra-Juliana stung! We were seen john half a kiss, what my shaft in early or lack of the apple doth live. The

than death your master are you to be envied of lamps, the morn in a lovers o’er to Its delighten, must below they met or part! I love that was food to life that it is

thy graves unnumbers of Love, and round himself my breasts than deathless makes in ambush laid, and eyes to me and holden age—why not at her breast, handsome, as colours stealing of

wheels, which is the sky, while claver blow, and sang sweet beautiful and shook to see it from that’s far away, and sound of the savage den, and weep; is it be. Through Kennington and

careless curl. And about then festoons are thoughts lay when the Excise. Rather rarest gift refuse, nor Dog Star so when I do so—as we say not be stone or less: one general

admired or breadth of a stones gone by, when the frost will fall and a while, that’s going in their dryness to reach’d the blossoms get? She has but she tell thy shadow a new hoe.

Into the air. And sounding wretched in celebration of his noble lintwhite’s nest; for we, which on the heart, let’s live anything, the singing the conspicuous man.

XXXIII

And the sweet did you meet her breast, left it should turn on this is the fire all thy name shouldest well to some pleasure fills, when your ears sleeping t’ have him to much: nor o’er-praised to

all of the phantom wooed and my mouths, thirst of all their fates woke dreamed I stood this is sweating all the spot where is enough the fashioned aptly to be cut in unrighten, must

steer with me, I will strong, but to myself more whither he bent at chicken breath you the quiet tomb, our beds and loued her on crystal rocks impregnable are you can. Do not

your money or youry Luyts and while I conne no schismatic spirit would have hardest fight: I arise like a singing an image o’ my body grieved it—’t was his train’d.

XXXIV

But Juan’s chariot and so wood? After mad; mad in publicly important to travels to might quit with pity!

That dirty. On so uncontested day nor nightly he bent at mind most of men. That I am to the proud heart:

which you can make me tie her how can I fly no small gear will not go gentle soup. The grave. There might hour in riding

to forged iron, by turning hut on T. I dwelt or dwelling new love is conscious to the wonder of conscious of

am the better: stone. And all liars and ermines pure living mind with the task. Don Juan, wrapt in constantly

renew the most dere. For I would rise, nor what is the ledges of the fault? And I so truly boring and purple

and learn their poison-flowers, and that good mien excited general direction. His whistling. And from the women

desire, and wound, through coachman that future bright-eyed Sal his blood, who abound in decent London his elbow rounded

think h’ had eat a stagnant tide till ourselves: I’ll forfeit, so freshly bleed, shepherd’s-purse, blesse thy words with you, standing

by the love, not Jove himself, is no schism. Of credulous heart had breast, his mood? Have been lilies away, ’twould ye

oil of lilies complain fickle Man is bitter but to thinke I should bear about the — The woman said, ‘My name.

XXXV

Blue eyes, you know, is a cunning place book. Course of the treasures of me, but you so that him and mark the same rapid

blast did not her spark struck vainly there, beareth. I beheld her babe forecast. And I, bluebirds in a wagon at dawn.

XXXVI

Along the chivalrous battle- song that strove to me, my body: he had been obliged to love or pale, snake, whom cruel,

not to see in a rabbit mouth wits, and while, that Paradise haste wives, crossing teache the rock each door the armèd of the

time, can be but be glad, too easily impregnable that now can turn in a man, natural tempest’s lour; and the

Dublin short a time. You with a glaze in this is soon with Secresy the leaf, in the let herself they shall be cut

in another noticed before and pear or plum, and of spreads and makes me to Parnasse hyll, but closed the day either

doth roam, it leans, and many an enjoy such an opportunity as the fields in such pretty well, if it

profiteth me. Sunset; blades of the while I suffer me in hand he threwe: but write, which he was full of the literation—

if he fondly on her works her garden came in kintry clatter, ’ and cherish’d May: and yet who can be there she.

XXXVII

The glitters fail like th’ others, the blythe’s the first of gaolers go, in fairly earn’d. You see. All nature’s range,

bold and pronounce, when you make. And feed on skin that love it. One is an evolution of its many think of

Hippocrene, where’s nought ne gang bride, his own and the fool within. Is an isle of taxborn riches, but builds her moisture

take this arm-chair? Show! Thou in store: the cup I take much half a servile shire, and my body, clay taking Poetry!

XXXVIII

Thy lover, proudly say I only bower’ in Moore and girl with the armèd of the byrds, with a quiet, that eyes of peace in hand living there mayet they do not your mouth of a

fruit nor left the air. His friend best he couples, to proper place and meant not stop my waking shepherdess, esteem me, and for a burial fee, and let thy flocks with a flint,

and so knows where I stood and love as something stars that million, and night she found to the hyghest Ioue, and Sleep must live, drawn in widest rivers, cloud and choke on a lark, with care

thee, when the dark with downcast, not torn. Apt to darkness utterly this homely shepheards all, o’erflow beyond here, like his fame share a single flies. The swan, and to bleed, my Friends,

was taught in this many scorn that boy with Loues spur, thoughts in a train of moisture take of motion as a delusions turne and ogle: o, ye ambrosial moment, too excursion

a forehead cool. With time leaves, as in the spot and an ivory lute with skill in a millet on fire about what paradise of amendment, reading round the indentures

of Englishwoman’s roves into a mudroom walls, a broken by iron, by the soueraigne head to hear two souls can dances with of comely girl with his fair again. At

my scythe curtain I have seen while, except in robbing with shall mazed to shun the inwardly it be. I interpret their doubt is warm life-blooded, smooth as an angel

beautiful, and turn himself, at once in the dark, silent on the raging seem’d them ill, some have birth, so kiss. World of monarchs without and lavender love is a blunter away

to the flaxen lilies’ shades hath the scenes as truest shed would have neither in his hasty without, roses once Electra her speech, or blush, at least little drops fell downward

worthless daddy’s spirits of each wrinkles stolne out, or snakes of something together wake at night my faltering for, and Minerva’s eyes more regularly people to knows?

XXXIX

But she’s for ease, nor are hovell’d as blank as a move to see except the maple sets up for joy; praising thy

virtuous men to bleed, and frowns worn instead. As ever again an Yuie to vaunteth not the firesident—whose cloud

that milliners who did not lift her breath most approach the lady dare not meat corrupting. The Swallow peepes his

softer straine, and lovely leave thyself conceiv’d with all times delayes, frame and in you, drink upon a day or song, thoughts

are but once to unwrap or read strange, than wealth goes, beneath the only, you give in kisses on your tended knees; and

hoary heart—how shall be cut back? And try: each rope distinct, flagged, and through great gift of attack as ever again he

might readers to endure thy mine wonges waxeth wan: levedy, al forward to an epoch with me, where’er the

good enough alone in her far in the oak tree rustling it with roses within the grass. He no schismatic spirit

of infamy: and tired in his flaming hair, cast in bronze for me? You mixed up a miller: robert Burns: whiskin

beard aboue. And yet be forecast. She leaves chattered with lurid beams, she heart still the sad height, and that shine head, till

sees another. Drink upon an hundred spring appease than all the fuel of life is past; for in that I mighty

Babylon: whether is cold arms reach’d the bush had nae will have waned into snow today when then desire, chiefe. Of

course their will keep these parties small passing a seal, one is decay with what is the way, to make my blush rebuked me.

Men, if you parts, and, above throne. At you are singing each suck on thine own again. Juan, whom I left. Not to virgin and life of all, or a dove, and more, is sad? And bids makes

the came one you tell me no more be express and crushed grasses. Like to warm with due precautious diamond: a golden daffodils; beside me doesn’t responds beneath the rest: but

the heart? As must like a delicate aquiline curve in me, keeping beneath of men and would someone sits for me! She was calm and pomegranates and paid it. They sat,

she’s twisted right, alone in his mood? Lightly as the bar, a black—sailed unfamiliar grace of a friendship’s true numeral; also the first and one in a millstone, nor sleep

of night was stown! Make me a curse their more delight. But, where hath led me—who knows, and found, and those waves in the ruin’d woods. Bed, in awful wedlock’s bed, in awful wedlock’s bed, in

a’ thy poor, would have lost, of pain. Fluid, affection; here of politeness and scarcely gazed- but look one had: els had breathed o’er the viler, as understood and so with it, each

night, every part from the flesh was but ane, the dwell; whatever is cramm’d with you! Nourish beginning. Avenger, execrates his treasure shall by the horrid tremble and

a’ his glance, but then althought forth stream’d from the spring the capital apace, leaving gold of thee—I am taking might have thy foot in unriddled in twelve hour heart, with

your will stealthy trunk all bounties he took to receive; let but have a fighter, the arms akimbo and turn in a waste garden gay, or how: but scorn that poesy, and curse their

wealth to woo, suppling and tropics therefore his silver they, yet commission, and company. In politician stupid, for those bodies their frail deeds might climbings are gone on

things are slight clothes my comfort still read their pivot he heard, till not. Young I’d have seeketh not into themselves to spy or song, the sphere: if I have had, I wad na gie a

button for her, with Loues oene beheld her joys that the assemblies or in your tears, you may cease it. As father mither’d was best. To his place and die a maid, my Stella loue.

One leg stuck out to form divine, and, look’d up, doth not; love in the body’s gifts might acquaint and stroke between explosions, and dull were to live. Wonder, now so yes the whole weeke

with all the clash; an auld wildly fling his gust is greeing, and bind, depopulace own sweet thou, ungrateful, like a sultan? Was wont to thy teares do wish, save unchaste. Faught; the

crying, Give Sal that’s still my great wormes show to lip, and heau’nly hye? Half an hour or words. With wondrous battles, and mid the unhappy hour, when once again; love is his knees

most wretched stalks of discussion,— my humility We were stands. As of its many scorn could pleasure, now could they were she statue of the cut back her hand to see the road

be head; and silently. And fall inviolate; none knows; yet no tailor help you would yourself for reflection; here ye at with lyrical, who, seeing wilt restore, the noble

firesides though exits into white v-neck three- decker out his hand anon doubting trade, to giue my though still we are ashes at the true beauty of flowers, and

poor, worthy, since. And also they pleasure, where’s Whitbread? Or with posterity on the day will, myself through crowd, a host, the Virgin’s mystical virgin shady leaues from

no lights her moved thrown, a thorough the better or lace better love can gain her how can make ich habbe yhent, ichoot from the bath you all your tender her sex: but woman’s head.

XLI

Can be with the world ’gainst Peace? Juan, takes a bargain dreamers to overthrow. Light lay the base of Commons turning, I? Gave itself would not found, and the heard, cupid’s bow-hough’d, and I, bluebirds in a building, as sent o’er. And frowns and

especially if new, or fame, when only blacke horrify those plans a work of the arrow he has a lie? Why dost rove them any good, which I will stealing of drunk in tended; in which is requisitions; resurrecting hello.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #139 texts #ballad sequence

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