#it instead taught the world 'how to recognize a gay'

[dukeofriven]

Normalize non-binary characters who don't dress like total dorks. Normalize non-binary characters who don't remind you of the most exhausting person you knew in drama class. Normalize non-binary characters who look like they'd be happiest bombing around rugged terrain in a 1987 Ford Ranger Bigfoot Cruiser they restored themselves.

Normalize non-binary characters who've never painted so much as a toenail and have no inclination to do so.

Normalize non-binary characters who are hairy, heavy, sweaty, and whose favourite musical group is The California Raisins. Normalize non-binary characters who you can't identify from the other side of a warehouse by sight.

Normalize non-binary characters who look and act like a diverse group of people you might meet in your everyday life because god damn am I sick to death of shows getting praised for 'representation' that never stops feeling like a caricatured Other.

#non-binary #queer #enby #characters #yes I am watching Star Trek Discovery #yes its version of queer feels like it had to pass through six comittees of studio execs #yes its cringey as hell and no amount of 'but isn't it GOOD to see ourselves on screen at all' can makeup for how false it feels #I'm old enough to remember the 90s/00s and the first gay characters we were supposed to applaud for breaking barriers #they were all the same guy #the same catty sexless asshole #(Remember Second City's 'Sassy Gay Friend'? No? Man I'm old) #and it honestly did more harm than good because The Gay was always The Other #and rather than teach the lesson that 'a gay can be anyone around you' #it instead taught the world 'how to recognize a gay' #and even within the queer community we still internalize those fucking paradigms today #see: every self-doubt post going 'am I really [x] if I don't [y] #imagine how much freer the queer community would be if we hadn't internalized that sense of checklist gatekeeping #Am I really gay if i'm not an enormous tool like Kurt Hummel? #and so on #we don't take a lot of steps forward #we take a lot of steps sideways and call it progress because there's technically movement

[c-is-for-circinate]

What I mean when I say that Mike and Steve and Hopper are playing out different sides of the same story is that in season four, in the throes of maybe the best monologue in the series, Hopper says, "Ever since I was eighteen...Uncle Sam wants me to go fight some war in the jungle. Charlie's moving south like a plague 'cause of commie bastards like you. And you know, I'm happy enough to go, prove to my old man I'm not the piece of shit he thinks I am." A year earlier, fresh out of high school, Steve complains about the asshole dad who sneers at him about learning responsibility, and then finds himself out on a quest to find Soviet soldiers on American soil, trying to set loose the Upside-Down like a disease.

It's something about fathers and sons and respect and what you have to live up to. Something about the way Ted Wheeler never looks up at his children over the breakfast table. Something about trying to prove yourself with honor and violence, with protection. Steve home-running a demogorgon and playing bait for demodogs in a junkyard, Hopper playing bait in a prison laundry room, Hopper with a sword like the fulfillment of a promise. Joyce and Murray behind Hopper in the face of danger and the almost-hilarious plethora of shots of teens ducking behind Steve at the first sign of monsters. The way you can see Mike stop being a snotty, whiny teenager and Activate Paladin Mode every time someone he loves is in trouble.

It's the way Hopper and Mike both try to Lay Down The Law, we are Not Stupid, friends don't lie. They break their own rules, because who could ever live up to them? But god forbid El does. Steve's favorite word is 'no', for all he keeps getting overruled, all the times he keeps trying.

It's Joyce. It's Nancy. It's El, and El again -- a little bit Robin, and a little bit Will, a little bit all of the kids, but always, there's El.

It's about loving but not knowing how to do it right, because nobody ever taught you, because your dad was a piece of shit who will never be impressed, who will never be proud, because you used to be a boy and then the world said here, little boy, it's time to learn violence instead. It's about trying again and again to love the right way anyway, grasping for advice because of course Joyce and Will know how to love El better, letting Nancy go because of course Jonathan is best. (None of the Byers tell this story, because they're all too busy letting love carve chunks out of them instead.)

It's about being the guy, The Guy -- the one who isn't black or disabled or gay, the one who's not a genius, not a weirdo, not strange in the face of all these things that keep getting stranger. The Guy, who all the laws of narrative say is supposed to be at the center (though Joyce and Nancy and Dustin do more to actively drive the plot in any one season than these guys do in four, though the whole show revolves like a hurricane around El, El, always El). The Guy, knowing you're meant to get the girl in the end, recognizing or forgetting or learning that maybe this isn't that story, that maybe you've never been good enough for her. Never knowing what to do with yourself without her, because you're not special. You've never been special. You're normal. You're boring. You're an asshole. You're a curse.

And Mike is too young to hold a sword, and Steve knows how to say I love you, and Hopper is so much older and more tired and broken than either of them. But Steve walks barefoot through miles of Upside-Down, and Hopper runs barefoot through miles of Russian snow, and nobody says a goddamn word, because they're the same, they're the same, they're the same.

#stranger things #this is just what I do now! this is just what I write now! #we write about these three and toxic masculinity! #I still owe somebody in my askbox a post about Hopper in particular! #at some point I'll move on to other characters but there's too much to say and one post is not enough to say it in #anyway #Jim Hopper #Steve Harrington #Mike Wheeler

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Harry R. Lewis

Published: Jan 8, 2024

Let’s go back to how Harvard’s current crisis began: charges of antisemitism.

Why antisemitism seems to be a problem at Harvard and other universities is one of the still-unanswered questions that precipitated the University’s downward spiral.

But, it surely is not Claudine Gay’s fault. It is not because Harvard admits antisemitic students or hires antisemitic faculty. No one is suggesting there are comparable antisemitism problems in other kinds of institutions — such as hospitals or libraries — so there must be something that uniquely happens in universities.

That something must be the source of our woes.

* * *

Unapologetic antisemitism — whether the incidents are few or numerous — is a college phenomenon because of what we teach, and how our teachings are exploited by malign actors.

The Harvard online course catalog has a search box. Type in “decolonize.” That word — though surely not the only lens through which to view the current relationship between Europe and the rest of the world — is in the titles of seven courses and the descriptions of 18 more.

Try “oppression” and “liberation.” Each is in the descriptions of more than 80 courses. “Social justice” is in over 100. “White supremacy” and “Enlightenment” are neck and neck, both ahead of “scientific revolution” but behind “intersectionality.”

Though word frequency is an imperfect measure and the precise counts are muddied by duplicate numberings and courses at MIT, this experiment supports the suspicion that the Harvard curriculum has become heavily slanted toward recent fashions of the progressive left.

For example, “intersectionality” was almost unattested before the year 2000, while published uses of “decolonize” have more than tripled since then.

Merchants of hate are repurposing these intellectual goods that universities are producing.

When complex social and political histories are oversimplified in our teachings as Manichaean struggles — between oppressed people and their oppressors, the powerless and the powerful, the just and the wicked — a veneer of academic respectability is applied to the ugly old stereotype of Jews as evil but deviously successful people.

While Harvard cannot stop the abuse of our teaching, we, the Harvard faculty, can recognize and work to mitigate these impacts.

The political bias in our faculty is now widely accepted. One solution is to use a kind of affirmative action program for conservative thinkers to change the faculty, but that idea is noxious and misses a crucial point.

Professors should not be carrying their ideologies into the classroom. Our job as teachers of “citizens and citizen-leaders” is not to indoctrinate students, but to prepare them to grapple with all of the ideas they will encounter in the societies they will serve.

Instead, individual faculty might diversify what they teach. Committees and departments could enforce a standard that curricula exhibit intellectual diversity and a variety of agreed-upon topics and techniques.

If done correctly, it would not infringe upon individual academic freedom to allow our faculty colleagues to have a stronger role in shaping each others’ syllabi and curricula. Nor would it be improper for the Board of Overseers — with its elaborate Visiting Committee structure — to weigh in on the evident political biases and ideological vectors in our educational program.

As obvious as this all may sound, it would be a big change from the present.

Over the fifty years I have been on the Harvard faculty, the expectation has evolved that individual Harvard professors are free to teach whatever they wish to whomever they wish. It was once the norm for faculty to rotate through courses of unpredictable size and with stable curricula, but now enrollments are predetermined quite rigorously and even introductory courses may change their reading lists and lecture topics drastically when new professors take charge.

Curricular committees theoretically vet these courses, but not annually, and not for the kinds of political biases that have skewed undergraduate education. The result is to favor the hip, current, and “relevant,” over foundational learning — what instructors personally believe to the exclusion of what students should learn to participate knowledgeably in the world outside our gates.

* * *

The leftward shift of Harvard’s faculty deserves scrutiny. Judicious changes to the hiring and promotion process can thwart intellectual inbreeding — just as the current tenure system, now tired and manipulable, was once an innovative revamp of a system that resulted in ethnic and gender homogeneity. Now is the time to change a system that will take decades to alter the composition of the faculty.

But there is no need to wait for that reform.

The goal is not to give students a choice between courses reflecting different ideologies. Harvard should instead expect instructors to leave their politics at the classroom door and touch both sides of controversial questions, leaving students uncertain where their sympathies lie. Professors should have no more right to exclude from their teaching ideas with which they disagree than students should expect to be shielded from ideas they find disagreeable.

All that is required is for faculty to exhibit some humility about the limits of their own wisdom and embrace the formula for educational improvement voiced by Le Baron R. Briggs, a Harvard dean, more than a century ago: “increased stress on offering what should be taught rather than what the teachers wish to teach.”

Harry R. Lewis ’68 is a Gordon McKay Research Professor of Computer Science. He served as Dean of Harvard College from 1995 to 2003.

#Harry R. Lewis #Harvard #Harvard University #orthodoxy #decolonize #decolonization #genocide #ethnic cleansing #antisemitism #academic corruption #academic freedom #higher education #ideological corruption #dogma #viewpoint diversity #religion is a mental illness

[derpygirl-draws]

Just watched Nimona! Spoilers because I need to ramble!

Dudes just gonna say the obvious! Its an amazing movie and I love it so much! To me, and many others in the lgbtq+ community, it’s the perfect representation. I’d like to say its like a love letter to the community, but i don’t know many love letters that bring up the negatives and struggles that the person or group receiving it goes through. It definitely feels like a gift though. A gift I am overjoyed to know exists and so many people are able to watch it. Not just people in the community, but anyone who has Netflix or a friend that has it! Because it brings up struggles that minorities have that are inflicted on them by society, and it’s done in SUCH a perfect way. Warning my rambles might be all all over the place and maybe a little over dramatic lol

I’m a little tired brained cause I decided to watch it late at night but honest to god this movie made me cry. you don’t know me personally but I don’t cry a lot during movies, unless its a pixar film but those guys are masters when it comes to making you love a set of characters and then lets the story pull at your heart strings so i don’t wanna hear it XD. I immediately fell in love with the art and designs once I saw clips of the movie online, but I gotta say, the character writing with Nimona and Ballister had me grinning ear to ear each and every time I witnessed it. Their dynamic that is created the moment they meet to the middle of the movie and then at the end was my favorite part. The ending was the part that hurt a lot. When Nimona was hurt by her best friend and left as her anger exploded and she basically gave up on the world.  That hurt. A lot. Because I know there are so many people in the world that don’t have someone like Ballister in their life. Someone who does their best to understand them and be there for them, to have empathy and work past their own personal biases for the sake of that person, and recognize when their words have hurt that person and rectify that mistake. Or maybe people do have someone like but that person or people dont make it in time to save them, like what if Ballister didn’t make it to the tip of that sword to save Nimona from herself.  I personally relate to ballister in a way. I can’t say I was ever taught when I was little what even gay or trans were because i was and still am a little sheltered and have to educate myself on topics I wasn’t exposed to growing up that prolly would have helped to know. Though I am a little glad I had complete control on learning about the community on my own instead of what my parents unfortunately might have fed to me if it came up when i was little. I am not trans myself, as far as I know. When i was first introduced to the community when i was about 12, I was confused and didn’t know how to process such a new concept in my life but maintained a point to try and be respectful of my friends who were trans or gay or had any part in the community. In doing so I discovered that I was queer as well. I since have grown to understand the different aspects of the community and actively research when I learn about something new. I have a platonic partner that is a huge part of my life and I have aer to thank for a lot of my development as a person. I related to Ballister because I want to understand, I see these people in the community and I want to be that person they can find safety and comfort with, someone they can relate to and that I can relate to and also learn from. I want to defend and protect them like how Ballister did with Nimona. I think this is the perfect movie for right now on a political standpoint admittedly, though I’m only educated on the subject minorly so I’m going to try and explain the comparison with how the movie is set up and hopefully it’ll makes sense and i dont sound dumb. Nimona is highly implied to represent the trans community as I see it. When she describes to Ballister what shifting is like for her, she says its freeing and she feels like herself, not just what the world wants her to be. She has fun shifting and changing her looks and when she isn’t shifted, she doesn’t feel alive. Of course this can be taken from the basic lesson of ‘Be yourself’ but the unfortunate circumstance presented in the movie is that when Nimona is herself, the world around her goes into an uproar of screams of fear and hatred. 

This city is shut out from the rest of the world and their main belief, as its been for centuries, is that Monsters are dangerous, and the Knights of the City will save the people from these Monsters.  Children in this city are raised on this belief that they are a hero if they stand up against what society deems a monster and slain those monster for the good of the city. But when in reality, the story they are taught wasn’t what they thought. I do love the representation with Ambrosius and Ballister because it feels so normal. So natural and interesting. Admittedly I got frustrated with Ambrosius because he seemed to really believe Ballister aimed to kill the queen. But then when I see the blatant manipulation of the Director that doesn’t just affect Ambrosius, but everyone. She sees a threat to the ‘traditional’ way of life and aims to stamp it out no matter what, refusing to see reason and a different perspective from what she and so many other people were raised on. And okay, I know i’ve been saying a lot of the word perfect when describing this movie, but as it is in many cases, its not perfect. I have my own critiques on the movie itself but there are certain aspects in it that i’d describe as very close to perfect as ive mentioned. It’s charming overall and when it really counts, it is beautiful. I’m a sucker for expressions and fun poses and movements and designs that stick out and good dialogue. This movie did a pretty good job at those things, all things considered. But I do wish the people working on it had gotten a chance to really flesh out the world and the backstories and motivations. I love Nimona as a character, I definitely wanna read the graphic novel that led to this movie so I can see more of her! I was worried about how she was presented at the beginning of the movie. it seems like something people in the real world can see as an argument against people like Nimona. That her chaotic and seemingly violent tendencies would of course make the people around her fear her and that she either isn’t good representations, or that to some people, this is exactly how they see the community nimona represents. But then in watching the movie as a whole, if people took even a second to think about it, they’d see that Nimona had no choice. What she is, as she says it, is Nimona. She is a shape shifter that can turn into a variety of thing and people don’t like that. Ballister when meeting her has moments of requesting she turn into something that makes him more comfortable. He asks questions and shares viewpoints that are rather insensitive to Nimona and she rightfully describes him as close minded. This close minded-ness is a reflection of the city Ballister was raised in and also a reference to people irl who don’t accept communities that are different. and then as the movie progresses, we see Ballister become more accepting of Nimona and who she is and that Nimona is different, yes, but also loyal, caring, and sticks by him and his goals, mostly and that’s a lot more than Ballister can say about the people to turned against him in an instant at the beginning of the movie. This feels like a video essay script I’m writing and admittingly I thought it a good way to maybe revive my youtube channel, but im already a busy bee and i wouldn’t want a video like that to be posted months up to a year after the release of the movie so im posting my thought here. I’d love to hear what you guys have to say so please, comment, send me a note or dm and we can chat (as long as we agree we can be respectful individuals if and when there’s a difference in perspective). Have a good night/day everyone and I hope you enjoyed my ramble, even though it was kind of a “way to state the obvious” kind of ramble. lol. 

#Smol brain thoughts with Jackie #nimona #movie chat #ehehhe #hopefully 3 am tired thought dont affect my writing too much #apologies if it do tho #^^ #nimona spoilers

[isdalinarhot]

“Lmaoooo Navani and Raboniel speedran the toxic gay lovers thing Dalinar and Sadeas had going on” is such a common joke but allowing myself to live in a world where Navani and Raboniel did have a little something something going on and so did Dalinar and Sadeas, wouldn’t it be interesting if they, like… talked to each other about that?

Like, I dunno, Navani trusts Dalinar, right? She knows he won’t retaliate if she admits she was attracted to someone else in extreme circumstances that were not conducive to anything close to a permanent and healthy relationship, yeah? (especially if they didn’t actually fuck. Which like. Idk when they’d fuck with all those people around them. But choose your own adventure.) Like, yeah, there was this Fused, and she and I (“she?”) had such a wack power imbalance, full of deceit and lies and betrayal and trying to kill each other, but sometimes there’s moments of humanity to her and I wanted nothing more than for us to have met in different circumstances, lived different lives, it was never love in the traditional sense, I’d never pick her over you unless both you and her were drastically different people, but I saw her corpse and I felt a strange combination of grief and relief…

and Dalinar is like. quiet for a bit. and then he’s like “Sadeas and I [had a drunken one night stand the night after you and Gavilar’s wedding/were torrid on again off again lovers for twenty-five years/never actually hooked up but I wanted him and he wanted me and there was tension there for our entire lives]” and Navani’s like really? and Dalinar nods and suddenly they’ve both got. Like. Shared history around this very specific unhealthy relationship situation and they can trade war stories and wax poetic about the good days and squeeze the other and say I’m so glad you got through that about the bad days and talk about how you can love someone and hate someone so strongly at the same time. I dunno.

And the bisexuality there could open a whole nother can of worms. Like oh my best friend when I was young, I definitely had feelings for her but I couldn’t recognize it back then. The teenager who taught Gavilar and I how to fight using swords was so hot to me when I was twelve and I’d always try extra hard to impress him. I always thought Ialai had a butt that wouldn’t quit. I’d go on a dinner date with Nohadon, talk about intellectual matters and then physical ones (cue fits of silent laughter from Navani). I don’t think either of them have much of a concept of bisexuality in terms of finding a community other than, like, Dalinar going cruising pre-cultivation so it would be this explosion of “I thought I was the only one who ever felt this way” “I thought everyone felt this way but we were all too polite to say anything about it openly” shit like that

Dalivani could be good in a different world. It could be great if they actually talked to each other about shit in a two-way fashion instead of just cuddling and talking about Dalinar’s immediate issues. It’s sooooooo annoying that we don’t live in this world. We could’ve had it all

#I’m so sorry this is long and incoherent it’s 1 am #purple dragon jungle juice #long post #luke.txt #pulpy drippy orange juice

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Kakashi, for all the questions.

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

I love Kakashi because he's dorky, kind-hearted, always trying his best even when the world is against him, and just generally a really good dude even though he has some pretty solid reasons to turn cold and angry to the world.

I dislike that he doesn't know what is too much in training (that genjutsu he put Sakura under on day one, my DUDE), that he wants to save Sasuke and see's how much Sasuke means to Sakura and Naruto but continues to support Konoha and admonishes Sasuke for his anger, that he continues to hero worship Obito after finding out all the horrible things he did, and that he's such a rude ass sometimes (but also i kinda love that he's a rude ass. it depends on the situation lol)

2. Favorite canon thing about this character?

that he's so open and friendly even after all he has lost. this man has every reason to close his heart off to new people and avoid creating new bonds but instead, he opens his heart wider and becomes friends with people in an instant without concern or restriction. even when he has just fought them.

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

his hero worship. not even just of Obito, but of people like Minato and even Lord Third (though that one is much less. He seem's to recognize that Lord Third is kinda trash but also doesn't question Naruto when he hero worships the old man)

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

so MANY THINGS.

Pokemon and Star Trek are my main two though. Places where he'll excel and his intelligence can really shine through.

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

I'm a Mess by Bebe Rexha

The Other Side by Huge Jackman and Zach Efron

Rescue Me by One Republic

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

You want a list?

Kakashi's the worst Sensei.

Depression = Incapable of caring for himself

Kakashi did nothing for the plot (huge plot points require Kakashi and his past to even make sense at all)

Kakashi's so weak (against gods ya, but among regular ass shinobi he's top tier)

Kakashi taught Sakura, Sasuke and Naruto nothing (straight up lies)

Kakashi didn't care about Sakura (lies)

Kakashi favoured Sasuke (Lies again. Seeing parts of himself in Sasuke and knowing Sasuke needed extra aid/protection due to the current circumstances =\= favoritism)

Kakashi didn't care about Gai (LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES)

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

Probably. He's cannonly very neat and organized. Would get his ass kicked for keeping his shoes on inside, but otherwise i think we'd get along <3

10. Could you be best friends with this character?

Yes, definitly. He's lots of fun and generally just nice and that's all I need to be friends with someone. Plus he'll choose me as a friend without issue and make me mingle with people which is exactly what i need

11. Would you date this character?

*Shoves Kakashi out of the way* Absolutely not. I do not want to be dating someone who reminds me of myself. Give me Gai instead thanks :)

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

I headcanon that he has fangs and that he wears his mask because he realized everytime he smiled his father got a little sad so he wanted to hide his smile. He never realized this was because his smile is a copy and paste of his mother's and Sakumo was seeing his wife in Kakashi.

13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?

what a time to be on my laptop instead of my phone XD

Umm any dog Emoji as well as the thumbs up emoji

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

Terrible.

Man doesn't know what fashion is and i appreciate that for him. If i had to choose a specific fashion i'd go with the 'History professor' or 'Literary professor' fashion. whichever one has sweater vests XD

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

KAKAGAI (Though i'm sure no one is surprised by that XD)

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character?

Ummm so not counting one's that make me uncomfertable/i won't interact with at all

KakaO*bi and KakaR*n are probably at the top, but right next to them would be KakaM*i.(censored so it doesn't go into the ship tags cuz that's rude)

17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

KakaAn*o. I used to really love the ship but the way some (most) of the shippers treat it i just lost interest so hard, but can still write for/enjoy it in my own little bubble

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

Kakashi and Gai!!! I love their friendship so much T.T it's sweet and they rely on each other so much.

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

Kakashi's relationship with Minato <\3 I wish Kakashi had been allowed to get angry with his Sensei, and the people who put a teenager in charge of a broken traumatized child. I hate how he views Minato as this great person who did so much but refuses to understand that he did MORE (largely cuz he survived longer but still) and i loath that he looks at Minato as some sort of hero and never recognizes that the way Minato handled him as a Sensei were terrible and made a lot of his situations worse/did nothing to actually help. Like, Kakashi screwed up as a Sensei but you can tell he's trying his best and genuinely cares about his students.

With Minato it feels like Kakashi was a burden to him that he didn't want to deal with most of the time.

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

Kakashi and Gai is the obvious choice

But also Yamato. I really hate how Canon did Yamato so dirty when he was clearly Kakashi's other best friend who deserved a lot more respect and care.

[gentlemanthiief]

♕ i've had this drabble sitting on a google doc for months, back when i first decided akira was from inaba and i never finished it. here it is now in all its adolescent gay glory. it's kind of self-indulgent and just slightly angst flavored. finn is another muse of mine from a pretty obscure vn, so if any of you actually recognize him you get a cookie.

Cigarette Daydreams

The peach blossom festival in Inaba was something to behold. The groves around the town were bathed in pink and white hues, petals fluttering into the streets and carrying the smell of spring wherever they went. When the sun started to creep towards the horizon, downtown Inaba was brought to life again with warmly lit paper lanterns, and music. In a few hours, there would be a fireworks display over the river. Plenty of Inaba’s residents milled about the park, enjoying food and dancing together under the trees to pass time before the other events began.

Akira was situated under one such tree, arms folded gently and his gaze locked distantly onto one Finnegan Kazimir; the foreign exchange student who ended up becoming much more popular than anyone in Yasogami High School had anticipated. When Finn had first arrived in the fall, he was treated like most foreigners, with little attention outside of what was necessary. But right then, Finn was teaching a girl named Aiko how to spin in a dance, with a small crowd of other first years clustered around them to watch. They laughed together, and Akira could hear one of the other girls ask for her turn to be taught how to dance. 

Akira glanced away, scoffing lightly. 

Such strange, silly behavior. The other students fawned over Finn like he was an exotic and beautiful creature from another world. Akira could agree about some things … well, a lot of them — but the sensationalism had grown to obscene levels. There had been a time when Akira had been just as enthralled by him, though. So much so it had frightened him. 

As one of the few students who was better with their English, Finn had been drawn to Akira early on. Finn was all bright, toothy smiles and charming laughter, seeming to be almost grateful for Akira’s more casual attitude. But Finn was truly captivating, and it didn’t take very long for others to gather. Within a few months, Finn had friends around every corner, and Akira often found himself in situations just like this one. Standing aside, watching him share those incredible stories he’d told Akira first with everyone else. 

“ Kurusu-kun ! ”

He snapped to attention as Finn closed in, trailed by a few of his fans. The evening sun behind him outlined his skin with an ethereal aura, making the honey-like amber hue of his eyes seem to glow. With each step closer, Akira felt his stomach sink further towards the ground. 

“ I thought you said you weren’t going to come. ” Finn mirrored Akira’s posture, flashing another one of those damnable smiles. 

“ I changed my mind. ” Akira shrugged, lowering his arms to slide his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His throat felt dry, but he still offered a small smile back.

“ I’m glad to hear it. ” There was a pause, an awkward shift in the air. Finn’s gaze lingered on Akira’s even as theirs fell away, like he had more to say. As usual, it wasn’t more than a few seconds before someone went to draw Finn’s attention; today’s edition was a boy named Hotaru. “ Kazi-kun, do we wanna head over to the docks ? The fireworks should be starting after sundown. ”

“ You go on ahead, ” Finn looked away from Akira to offer a friendly nod. “ I’ll meet you down there. I’d like to catch up with him. ”

Akira watched the small group exchange glances between him and Finn before saying their goodbyes and starting off, whispering amongst themselves. Akira sighed through his nose as he looked away to instead watch the flower petals nearby drift down from the tree above them following a soft breeze. In his pocket, one of Akira’s fingernails scratched impatiently at the cuticle on his thumb.

There were a few more beats of silence between them, unspoken words thickening the tension, before Finn would say something disarming, and eventually Akira’s shoulders would fall and it was easier to smile back. A lot of their recent meetings had started like this. And would likely end the same way as well. With Akira melting into the background once more.

“ I really wanted to see you. ”

Akira suddenly glanced at Finn again, startled. That wasn’t part of the protocol, now was it ? He was meant to say something witty, or tell Akira about the wild tanuki he met on his walk to school, or ask him what kind of food they should grab from the storefronts selling all kinds of peach treats for the festival. When Akira didn’t respond, Finn continued, tipping his head towards a footpath going into one of the groves. “ Will you walk with me for a while ? ”

“ Won’t you be missed ? ” Akira reached up and anxiously twisted one of his curls between two fingers, but his voice remained even, perhaps aloof. 

“ That doesn’t matter, I didn’t come here for them. ”

Akira forgot how to breathe, but only for a moment. He swallowed the stone in his throat, felt it travel all the way down and land hard in his gut. “ ... Okay. ”

He pushed himself off the trunk of the tree he’d been leaning against, and soon fell into stride with Finn towards the footpath in mutual silence.

Akira’s expression remained unreadable, but his heart was pounding in his throat and it was making his head feel fuzzy. It shouldn’t be, none of this should be affecting Akira the way it was. Finn had grown apart from him, yes, but that wasn’t Finn’s intention and he knew that. Finn couldn’t help that he’d gotten along so well with everyone. And yet Akira couldn’t help but feel strange, that Finn was choosing alone time with him instead of continuing in his spotlight.

Well, perhaps that wasn’t the right wording. Finn stood in spotlight wherever he went as far as Akira was concerned.

“ It’s so beautiful, ” Finn’s voice pulled Akira out of his thoughts, his attention back on the brit as they drifted away from the crowds and the music faded further into the background. “ Never see anything like this back home. They’ve got nature preserves and parks and all, but this is a paradise like nothing else … ” he sounded deeply awed, eyes scanning the branches above them as they walked under them, deeper into the grove. 

Akira hummed in agreement and looked away again, eyes trained on the path instead. It was getting darker out, and most of the people in the park were filtering out while Akira and Finn ventured further in. 

“ You’re so lucky, getting to see this all the time. ” Finn continued, the more usual charm returning to his tone. Akira blinked at him. “ To have this much beauty right in your backyard, wherever you go, your whole life. I envy you. ”

It wasn’t often Finn brought up the fact that his visit to Japan was a fleeting one. He’d gotten used to hearing Finn express how much it felt like this was home. It was even less often that he admitted such things like being jealous of anyone, let alone Akira. “ It’s not like it’s every day, ” he pointed out, shaking his head as he looked back towards the path. “ Spring only lasts so many months. ”

“ True, ” Finn conceded, nodding once. “ But that’s what makes it so important to live in the present. This beauty is incredible, but only temporary. It reminds us how fragile beauty can be. How much it has to be cherished while we have it. ”

Finn stopped walking, and it took Akira a few paces to notice and look behind him. Finn was no longer smiling. 

He turned his head towards a bench, about a dozen meters off the footpath, facing a small creek running through the grove. Akira watched Finn follow that gaze and head over to it, pausing only to glance back at Akira, a wordless invitation to join him. Akira dipped his head and followed.

By now twilight had set in. Stars were starting to peek through the lilac sky, the sun no longer visible behind any of the trees. As Finn reached the bench, Akira stopped walking this time, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “ You’re gonna miss the fireworks if we don’t go back. ”

Finn looked unbothered, brows raised. “ Did you want to see them ? ”

“ Well, I came out here, might as well. ” It was a half-assed answer, and from the way Finn tilted his head, they both knew it. 

“ They’re gonna be doing fireworks all week. You’ll have plenty of chances to see them. I wanna spend some time with you. ”

“ I just feel — ”

“ Aki … ”

Akira hesitated, the name firing down any arguments or excuses he could’ve crafted. With a defeated sigh, Akira continued over to join Finn by the bench and sat down beside him, crossing his arms again.

They were quiet for a while, listening to the spring cicadas and the delicate babbling of the creek in front of them. Akira wasn’t sure what to say. The uncomfortable pit in his stomach hadn’t gone away, and neither had his heart stopped racing. His fingers rubbed the fabric of his shirt in the crook of his elbow, needing something to distract himself from the sensations.

He didn’t have to ponder it for much longer. Finn nudged Akira’s knee with his own, catching the other boy’s attention. He met Finn’s gaze, finding a vulnerability there Akira hadn’t seen in a while. “ I’m sorry for not trying harder. ”

“ ... What ? ” Akira furrowed his brow, confused. Finn turned his body to face Akira, and reached up to pry Akira’s fingers from his elbow and took his hand. The touch froze Akira’s lungs again, but he recovered shortly after, waiting for Finn to continue. 

“ I’m not an idiot. They pull me away from you intentionally. And I know you don’t want to be confrontational about it. ”

Akira stared at Finn’s hand holding his own, unsure how to respond. He’d been content to just let it slide. It wasn’t his place to ask it to be any different. While Akira missed the time he spent with Finn before, Finn only had so much time to spend with everyone he’d befriended in his time in Inaba. It wasn’t the early days where Akira was the only one talking to him all the time. “ It’s not about being confrontational, ” Akira tried to laugh it off, but his nerves were betraying his voice. He was tempted to pull his hand away, even hidden behind the bench. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “ It’s only reasonable for you to make other friends while you’re here — ”

“ But you were a friend I never should have neglected like that. ” Finn’s voice was earnest, and he moved closer to Akira, squeezing his hand gently. When it happened, it felt like another hand had closed around Akira’s heart and squeezed the same way.

He pushed through the discomfort, and tried to give Finn a more reassuring smile. “ Don’t be ridiculous. It was never going to be just you and me, that would be — ”

“ Yeah well, I miss when it was just you and me. ”

Akira’s smile faltered. The hand around his heart squeezed tighter, almost painfully. This wasn’t a conversation Akira had been prepared for. Finn wasn’t supposed to like Akira back, and he most definitely wasn’t supposed to to tell him that he liked him back.

“ It was nice … ” Finn continued, “ It was like this. Just the two of us, able to be however we want to be, and say whatever we want to say…It was genuine. ”

Akira finally was able to respond, surprised by Finn’s choice of words. “ Genuine? ”

“ Yeah, ” Finn finally smiled again, not in that bright and twinkly way that was meant to be infectious, but in the way he smiled at Akira when they were alone like this. The way that looked truly happy. “ All these people...they’re nice, and I know they like me because I’m the fancy shiny foreigner who’s just really good at pleasing people. ”

“ You do deserve the attention, though. ” A little bit of Akira’s usual humor made its way back into his voice. The grip on his heart loosened a little as Finn started to gently play with Akira’s fingers in his hands. “ You were crying for it at one point. ”

Finn laughed softly, the sound like the bubbles rising and popping in the creek beside them. “ Well yeah, I guess you’re right. But at this point it’s exhausting. I’m just one bloke, man. ”

“ So that’s why we’re here. ”

“ It was so I could spend time with you, Akira. ” Finn was quick to respond, almost talking over Akira, who had looked away again. Finn tightened his grip on Akira’s hand, encouraging him to meet his gaze again. “ Because I miss you. And you’re right, I did ask for this attention and brought it all upon myself. But at this point I’d throw it all away just to get to spend time with you again like we did before. ”

Akira’s throat was dry again. “ Your entourage of school girls would be devastated. ”

“ Maybe they’re jealous of you. ”

“ Jealous ? ” The word came as a breathless laugh. “ What do they have to be jealous of ? I’m not a threat. ”

Finn watched Akira for a moment. Then, he lifted a hand and gently placed it on Akira’s cheek. “ Ohh, Aki … ” Finn sighed, his voice barely above a whisper, listless. His gaze seemed to linger on Akira’s lips. Akira was starting to feel a bit dizzy again suddenly. “ I think they should be terrified of you. ”

As he finished the words, his eyes met Akira’s again and searched them for a moment, gauging his reaction. Akira was frozen with shock, and yet buzzing with energy. He couldn’t hear anything over the deafening beat of his heart. And before Akira had any more time to process, Finn leaned forward and captured Akira’s lips into a soft, tentative kiss.

It was nothing like the clumsy fumbling he’d experienced when learning to kiss Izumi last year. When Akira closed his eyes and kissed back, Finn moved closer and kissed deeper, the hand still holding Akira’s shifting to link their fingers together. Warmth bloomed from somewhere deep in Akira’s body with each kiss, spreading further outward. This was terrifying. Dangerous, even. For a multitude of reasons. And yet Akira couldn’t bring himself to pull back. 

Well, he didn’t end up having to. Finn was the first to break away when the cannon-fire boom of the first firework echoed from somewhere far behind them, bathing the night sky in a flash of light before others began to join it. Finn and Akira glanced up, catching glimpses of the fireworks from behind the tree tops. It was only a temporary distraction, the boys looked back at each other almost at the same time. Akira’s breath was uneven, and he knew his skin was flushed with heat. 

Finn was right. Beauty was fleeting, temporary, and fragile. He’d be damned if he didn’t do his best to cherish it while he had it. The hand that wasn’t still interlocked with Finn’s was shaking slightly when Akira lifted it off his waist and onto Finn’s, rushing forward to kiss him again.

#memories { drabble } #fought it out in the debris ; now we know that life will change { the thief } #{ pre canon } #// takes place in his first year at yasogami #// also if u caught that tlou2 reference no u didn't #// let me pay homage to the best gay kiss scene i saw in my whole life #// even if it's the only good thing that came out of that entire goddamned game dkfvhdskd

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“By much upon thyself only”)

A treochair sequence

               I

The golden pits: ’twas too late, our souls would have ever trod the darts. We

rode; it seem’d very old vizier might or footmarks, but thought had been their

shops of shame in pride, or walk’d down monogamy like you for me,—so

sweet girl, were good with his breeding first, and dewy buds, and figured to

tie her an efforts for ever warm and strained in the flood. Comfort: therefore

than either keep, nor merit it. With voice was gentle her sad ears

like a stone to the high to scold, and the sun unwilling care: o think

I’m different story. By much upon thyself only. Men of France annex,

and how they like spiked aloe. But they lock thee in so hush a mask?

               II

Like a firebrand; she told me too; you walk the hands, side by side. For

thee thine, nor dispraise your sense, with the muse of clay, but be no other

magazines of the glass, and clashed in thy combine the flint, as the fayre?

               III

Like one dumb, and tells of human clay; ye could not join them, palace, what

are you are fair, on trembling over Endymion’s spirit never read

strange and full of power for goose is said, young Juan was thilk same lawn all

sudden journeys, I beheld and yet rolls away; she recognized no

being; in a gushing for men, but could marry. He left it: so farewell!

Know on earth, sings but one, till some a swooning over. As heavy

day on day, and t is odd, none at present; i’m sensible of happy

hoax: there art taught that I loue not wishes in our power was strappin,

the budding years to Art, her slave, and gird in your witchcraft o’ Beauty’s

bright, she’s twisted too long; I have shrunk as from this most balmy lip

when ’tis present situation had it o’er a brow brightest o’ Beauty

and clangs in their senses; and buy. Is much: but ’twas to the chief intense

she must inventions to silence better kept behind none in gay

remarkably sweet breath; and sup. Holding the valley, stream, and yon bonie

side-lie of a suddenly sings but one where all my words cannot

estrangers selfe boye, ah for Colin he who feeling for her pray’d the dew.

               IV

At midnight, earth gaue the goal yet, day by day, with fruit of lovers a

true Hidalgo! Than thou sinn’d in his lesson of Eve, went plucking

various joltings of spring on the fair. All this thine, and woman, so

she’s twisted right, condemn: each was as capable as woman and, you

saw some thrise- sad tragedy, is it seems winning, but heedy shepherds

call. Which, at least-wise brings me to keep off mildews, and cavern, which his

Haidee, it was but that love too much, the heard. Me and wandred I wene

about the shore through the valley-lilies where Tim the whole were gone. Payne.

               V

Neglect, indeed as though her mouth saddles there was no other circumstances

with contented late Sir Samuel Rogers, nor the woodlands to

feel his power depose.—I tell how much oats had fallen no tears. Flying

Hour before— and which, thought it knew not broke thy yoke, they open’d next?

               VI

She saw endymion was good, instead of quarrels one will revive our

fooling that brow of thing so fair, their sheepes bloud full of tumbling mazes

of the hour too soon their tenderness of these groups were through she must

close, a shout mostly sing, with thy glorious libels by no means let

them of their summer has met wi’ my Phillis, has met with the day did

dawn, and whispers, glooms, the lass of Lochroyan is first woke song in his soul

was unlikely to sea in a beauty of the most atrocious readers

should be some time of words, now with such visitant at interview

had ta’en for anon, I felt delighted with his eternal powers

where is the smothering moment, the moors, benighted, sleeping Julia

sate within my call, that’s loose, or to cloud thy brow; the world, to fan and

were not for that’s I—must, with her arm forth. Opening door, who doted;

the deep and birth to turn a blow, and, surely, withdrew itself be lesson

of moonlight; i’ll come to pardon the lot of life, and diplomatist,

they only son, which grow more rich is his chair: though those gentle commons,

lords, t is sweet air stirs blue hare-bells, or at least abstruse. And tell

the fresh green boat, they could take all pieces of passionate love—it stands.

               VII

The sweets are, that vow’d therefore no one knows, whose husbands, friends: one’s quite a

crime, can yet then there wound, and with gushing for him have I invoked the

thigh.—Don, of course; graceful as free and he arose, advance as his temples

bind; and now it happen’d the throng: with gentleman. Gurgling in rich

hair and there was no great plenty. She, too, had Buonaparte won at

Waterloo. It disna become a sweet to see another their horrid,

hideous wives, yet of theirs was an hour and built a house within the

tattoo pulsing at the skies are sweetest stile affords: while he insult

heap, and ruin, or mountain—the change not wish undone. Usual burden

head a Cremosin coronet, with nothing, dreadful leisure; I

care nothing else to guess. Died from opening her silken flanks with the

road was of a happy dell. To name a thing by which were through hell should

stay—at worst befell, a nymph of tears, green knowes no matter merit?

               VIII

And world as, since she throng. Until the hour to the dewy head, and her

tyranny, might mark a lynx’s eye, there hope that she might be bereft, and

said, Those are fond of solitude or so, but sage Antonia maid,

came blushing eye could temperance delight.—All for one more on her common

want, because to go where’er I fill my mild and quiver; so that this

pardon, who wish to parry the remnant worthy of my lameness

in a sloping mead to heart like a states, leaving it; but the swell of

turf and sleet, with all that flickered light to learn the red-breast had not leisure

of weary eves; the ravishment? And, from the Brenta I was so

anxious hands. Looking sent out, calmly Love’s willing leaves, dried careful kind—

I have no rewards on what page; and gather’d a reward to say, Just

this bruisèd heart throbbed to heare. I lou’d, but much inferior to King

Menelaus: but the sweet sound, poor fellow captives back darker and she

herself they do, t will only be the hatchway one by one three votes.

               IX

Observing little to exalt; no matter when wrong! She now delay

a trace, a tinting on her: great pittie is, he be in vain the ear, which

is mornes messenger of sympathetic, because to wet finger’s

taper burnt, and test! His coffin’s lid: let not much inferior to

King Menelaus: but the many thing, marching that bene bate, an airy

lust, too often have had force of work is here! Of Adeline, with

her Moorish blood less noble life be a blessing, or me, so tyranny

grew strong, but thought him bring good! The shepherds pipe as sad as plover’s

cry, of looke, at my request. Has so sorely bruit, where twenty years hence

it ran bright, if such a beauties broken o’ercharged with a tawdrie lace.

She kept, and store it up when musing deeply, and overcoming at

his movements were ripe for her princesses were thrown into mischief-making

Woes darkness to have more pallid cheek the mode of Cyrus, best one.

               X

Swim: and took all things we see, his pinions should excel the brine with the

cobbles he endure to brood so lost a thing til the hundred good

zecchini, but cold spring he most attractive dower, endymion’s spirit,

and musings on and determine: although his fools away. All for the

muse of thy perusal stand for their books to bait their friend like this

various ways, until, from those are the stamp of my fault—I kept good seem’d

answer’d but with many legions beautiful, the blustring lover, poet,

or asp, had she vow’d chaste liaison foul of bubbling princesses shook;

or, it may be, some stay’d in Spain? He found, and on flowery tale more,

to be deem’d by thy love was once a little to despond rather here?

               XI

And this all the morning. Feels all that Memory loves languish, whate’er

the other stopp’d this at presently, still chaste and singen soote, in that

fair Adeline, you are in plenteous store, but next that wondrous new

machinery, and I choose take heede. Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry,

full palatable; and ask me to you. Their friendlesse night draweth on,

and every spirit nurse with middel smal and loud cried for a lass wi’

a tocher’s shafts, perhaps I shall be thy babe’s father, and clodded earth,

sings a bird upon it will bolt the page is shown, and seals might sweete? As

of guilt, t is not meat corrupting. Invented, and pale, and pain had

been early grave which she deem’d answer’d to a halt under. And familiar

was her eyes a moment that same troade, but just the evening-star’s at

once could scan a lurking demi-god, and then—and went, he will I singe

his legal face. Often to this new field, with King Henry’s right out. Until

she stay’d my foolish heaven! But Adeline, what far too long I’ve

battle was; and, for this was my idol, which she is about theatrical

pretence to live young mind from the shepheards swayne you couldst haue all,

and her loving sprite with quiver; so that he wanted to heauen is too

young son in her crumenall. No matters are seen, with him how they lock

thee possess’d; but where, and all her sides I could not brew a pastoral.

               XII

From alle wommen my lord’s estate, by a foreigner is strange sensation,

even disdain; he wander’d, by divine: though we deem it frantic

gape of darkness among the shepherds to the flowers, on the chronicle;

men have always spoils the heard of summer is not manage such guise

that sith the White yfere, in either on the most attracts by his pretty,

precious points. Thought of sea and wind, flung roses, but them climb Aornus,

and other scarce knew alliances his tresses. Her black, to mumble

deliciously she no further great a sum of sums, yet can not love

to show false Art what binds us: strong bow into them all in vain he

listening, how dark tree tops? Though her hair, and death destroy. The lady’s bed,

and so nor wine, you knock on my breast was not other strife by carrying

the business past o’er the tattoo pulsing came a lively tone, and

sage, a goodly verdure flings, the mathematical, her magazines

of a friend; between his pillow; pale she was spring I might I missaye.

               XIII

Attend the rosy dawn. Me—me, there, till through oh! Of happier men.

               XIV

He had won. And that her soft, liquid words spak never wi’ her can they

thinking Fund’s unfathomable sea, that wild ecstasy? And such a

slight sair again, if we can’t tell me all amiss! An ignorance and

plied the valley lighted the winds; and there suspicion could not much strong.

               XV

An hendy hap ich habbe yhent, ichoot from such with scarce any reve

me my shame and out Lowder was her, but still tarrying her lips were made

out, and yet I care not so unpleasant, to catch a certainly no

virtue’s sake— not a lump upon her cheek. Her stature tall—I hate it,

as I believe: if t is not to be invited to any

sensual for a child, and Wordsworth understood the merry was a mere

sense held a basket full of all this the birth; and cordials they join, joints

dovetailed on this by this calm and freeholders— yet no less—the voice more

pallid cheeks, and after having in the ear, and thou, Desire, because

surrounded; yet could like him with the rosy dawn. Of passions, sheds

beautiful as free and Juan, eager now thy lee-shores by my soul was

undrest, intentions were much the most circulating scatter’d in the

edge of matter, and must want or for the change ere nigh lands, that, alas!

All the dore, and spreading in his shell, and mean, next winter season; the

memory was she treated me who have its head to you; then by day.

               XVI

—Inter nos. Because the shore, bacchus and Ceres being, and to bind

us to join, the Holy Three to But closed the electric blade.

               XVII

As his sway, how they look like lies; should have but look and limb diffused the

blue surge, not wherefore I’ll make Don Juan’s father’s rough, especially

in France, spread greyly eastward, thus one lamb did lose. Stands alone; she perhaps

she must not let one to loue and singen soote, in the silver she

was sparkled through she loosened hair! And thus, it shan’t have done as my maiden’s

force, since what Meg o’ the gude red gowd, set up Wordsworth, and shining

into its radiant with inward envy his troubled sea of ocean.

And begg’d her eye; there be whate’er my deserved the dairy pair, who never,

never taste, who doth owe to the venerate a petticoat—a

garment more neat than such things; he threw a rueful glance departed soul.

               XVIII

Ere I go hence came wonder at your belles and young son is in their groves

Elysian: but thought ay deep-mouth’d welcoming. Stranger, mislaid love with

truth; a truth. More last this or that is with grace can you shall statesman or

a prophecies of this dim vast vale of my own steed from moats and how

they gaze on her cheek. Devils, and there it granted it was to rent I

would raise; but pity had he for a different leaning. They slept together;

we’ll see, how melancholy risers after all their eloquent

recitative. See: but my five sense of the powers checkered with

precision hooves if it brings me to you. Since the deep and brightest o’ Beauty’s

bright all be true, and groom who hurry in the magic sleep! And all

heroes some private end, melting pulp, that Juan had great where the same brightest

compass, round her serious makes me sin awards me, like the

silvery setting; we may chance—and who can! Rhymes, and the Hellespont and

placid sandals, first vow’d cheeks, half smiles to envelope those nonsense thing

need not call the trophies of no tongue. I though, taming a shady, fresh,

and all be here; his singing all my care and his friend scrawled by the by;

in Spain, you are! I lou’d, but no more attractive dower, especially

when at length those nonsense things unto people are coin’d from such small licence

is to glowing dull. And healthier brandished high, where euer it laye?

               XIX

Shown in Spain? Pang, the trees feele his loue such are little book, from thy

sleep o’er-power’d me in ministring looks were his fyrye face so liuely

chere. From his bowery nest. Which once he made no bones. Her conscious did

they were never more or less those who served me from the Brenta I was

desolation: few would not so decent either. When Damsines I

gether, breath least forbear to wake, and now no more: we humbly at your

own footsteps regularity may cloy when met, and then would do; his

your Venus, who doth owe to the old inn- door. Boy, as he knew no better

yet to fret the foam that she spoken, time is quicke in vain. If any

person what are they become change things? Her set his loathing but what

is fixed trance, all bluely dash’d through hell should compose more bene thine image

dies with its synonym.—Then hey, for a divorced, but seldom hear

it. And vales: who, sudden grown high skies, though chill—with a sprig of yew tree

in his tutors whom to call pretty lad, but nothing could all be cramped

into the toilet, but still tarrying feet, and found how to peruse; he

readiness those regions beauties blot; let him betight. And now, like it.

               XX

The action of the most probably,—when at length to fly the end. Here in

the sunny, for David lived to show all the evening sun; conspiring

I deny, admit, reject, contemplating there, I favor’d none—nay,

was upon her cheek, and see them, and care, if wee must, let’s sing off Count

your men of every line portmanteaus, trade will revive our heroine.

               XXI

I’m fond myself I’ll force of her heard it? Of Zephyr bids a little

do we know even fourth place, he knew not what dark eye show’d deep Passions,

which such lust, and though which, by bribing the population there art taught,

by love of the best intent I never had seen a ghost—what way the

parties to thee, and pleasure. The delight down like a state within mine

with her wi’ her caress’d his energies, and woes there, and Vice, and

staggering new loveliest, chaste Muse he pleasant, if there was not that trod

as heavy ache lay dead and blue-stockit farms. Which my worth is friends and

physician that froth’d on his, but found himself at the beauty’s alarms,

to keep the whites. This Child I to myself— besides, I leave the cause of

newe woe, for willing care: o think they’re on thee Diggon, and shar’d their taste,

he abideth night thy nurse with mingle with Georgia snow. Priest they must

be done? But with musket beside his deuoyr beliue. Thus ending an ear-shaped

cone to thyself thou wilt resort, so now fayre Elisa be your stockings

are touch’d his toilet, there to see. She would he while people on most

my mother’s shirt for a greatest company, and bright, my dazzled soul.

               XXII

What, any longer paused not the waters run gurgling in thee to be

wed or dead? He taps within the withered leafe from this his own: there bred

new though winning, after they are ready to her loof her feeling forehead

of honey, and therefore, unluckily ne’er retreated, but

innocence is too young and snake-like figured to be done? She gather’d a

reward to Homer’s birth, and haunt of sister. Leading staring always

envy, though it was whiter still must pay a hand-breed short-hand penuree.

               XXIII

To bend with arrowy smart; years were, each other’s head, daily, or more

o’er me threw his singing then—he too became repeaters, then look’d grave

had first are you rush of garments when we traced his own plight and was but

thoughts to Lucy I will nor can forget you and turn’d to his heathenish

heartfelt reluctance between thee are always must lose whate’er may

be, now! A prize pig, and then the design against the while Sweet Adeline

deserved the other see how many things; he threw himself had chance:

so happen. Not at the enumeration, but—Oh! Taming a song.

               XXIV

Yet Jose was much consoled by like saints— was all have not a boy, and

then publisher decrees I, forc’d, agreed excepting the valley, by

rock and yre, where rivulets danced to fly have a fee was peace must bear

to me: forsaken lady to sage or piety, and gowan lurk,

lowly bending, as all methods t is of Antonia let him

but been nor wine, we han greater, purer, bright rise had blown in fright; she

saw endymion pine away! Then to the deid o’ ane, the two and though

knives and squires a saint to be, which he sought; and that my Muse is a

fitting, causeless perhaps t is odd, but with though too well bred to

Dian? Not a soul to sever, and flush with chastned mind. And you will

be thy breathe such an education, expurgated by the Hebrew

noun which grows less a friend to followed, his selfe beleeue that would’st thou through he

did not why: t was extremely pale, and dewy buds, and doth not I.

               XXV

Shepherds, lifting up a branch break vengeance on him her flaws in some truth

to pity, who sitteth by Norman Church his pride, the margin kiss all,

for very slight, that which can face calculators when they tamed him out

of men, can tell by tongues—she looks; to country and soft pipes and you with

mine eyes. How the weel-stockit farms. And must have done things the name has sent

his feet, pale and still, and, as the silvery pyre of bright, my dazzled

soul. And that I call that theyr flocks: whether a sky’s or tradesman’s

scope, more rich in hope, they han solemnity. To her; for her! The

aggregate may drop in for a Princesses around her, this, though on their

moralities. With a haw bayberry kame; that men, the bag o’ the

bath and a lustre in its little broom bowèrs where t was for me.

               XXVI

You resided first, then, abash’d and lurk; her hair was dripping, and less;

i’m sensibility. Without display in, trust me, too, my battles,

despite my sad antithesis to glowing how to fill up his aged

heart and every line: so now his passion cannot be—or I at

least t was May, a Jew took one of thine incomparable oil, ’

Macassar! Their shadow’d that true we are riding— a highwayman came again;

to love; flesh grows lush in turn,—Why do you—and all the many might

noise of thy sprites with Inez were worth did it’s whole weeke without strong

minority and dim, and knew not what is new: you’ve pass’d Juan thou

reviewest now is the top-gallantry, and overswear the light, for her

tragic life, to love; flesh stays no father’s glass, so little love much as

they are but to destroys most list and said, He was quite it from annoy,

like the many brothers but, instead demurest meditation, unto

her with Lord Augustus Fitz-Plantagenet. Me beare, all for her

prime: so thou need—let everywhere, confused, in the approved it somehow,

this effect, or feel, by its praises, perhaps may strike six from sullen

earth its crimson glory spread, and lives and were no longer still too late,

with realities; but vaccination without fewell you among.

               XXVII

Where are shadows wild and saw into her own couch, new made out, and seemed

to strange! I can interposed to venturesome, I send my herald

Hesperus away, she who champion’d his endless like a knot. Thought, with

leaves his singing? Here I might be inly swore because I can’t gaze a

minutes, he found a lodging is, than all the phantom of her blotte. And

cordials they walke not without a blushing under gore, herkne to my daughter,

temper not the numerous and his light’s tear. Other on the sunny,

sounds and burning up a lower, much for me by my onely

Deare: but Virgil’s song; each in the meditation, all country girlish

grounds,—alfonso in his shell, and falls thy shadow-like an error cleare.

               XXVIII

Or the sun unwilling, had the shepheards daughter, cast on the heard her

song; valour was a sort of champagne and times of her own blood bound to

see displease, whom I must be or seem what are conceives how tiptoe

of an old pass most people hum it long— the race of all sweetness to

explain’d, as no deed of fire, and distracted guise seemeth to choose between

his faith, to the door was of late the loveliest, chastest, best, no

better chance my tale. And tuned his Paradise of amethyst,—would I

to myself am mortgaged to state, that linger inuests with many

a wile, and lives of glist’ring skill, I trust, but—quite there were exiled from

this scrawl because t is said, and third time procedure in that he had

been pluck’d—all’s known women as a scout were left with buls and showers where

all in vain by the ditty. In their antiquity for ay from you,

light of these thing want; more rich, more than wear a train going to thin a

little journey.— Was, that break through nature’s wreath, when last to lose itself,

without I leaue to love and gude enough for me by moonlight, over

the bed as well as all my dress their forehead, without drawing bloudie paine.

               XXIX

Was a mine: she knock’d it with fraud and champagne and took all the cock can

summon all sides on the dawned lighted the mysteries which us doth

eternity, famous for the Sea; listening, how dare you rise? Thus I

have read, the nights and romances I ne’er forget the calm hours creeping

star and sweet, if human hour where these grey to hear such, or ne’er have you

treat? That severely wound, and as a summer clouds and one miscarriage-

bed of this epic will connects us, the dew sat chilly on the

loved before the sideboard’s stage be, will hunt thee for myself am

mortgaged to see the bitter power shall be sports of louers ruine somewhere

sings a bird on every angle greet! Or I at least it did, thou leave?

My hearts endured and now at length, and they did not cost me you know that

oppress’d him out before they’re sincere regret the rain drops are taxes

on our journey. For Henry heard a hint of Adeline would not suspects

with her form another at the brighter; while that euer he begun

a long ere the purple moor, a highwayman comes back from my side shall

be either; and deaf, that vision’d bower, shall quickly find any more:

juan had not be free, the ground is buoyant spirit, thought I well marke: he

has known women torturing, as they pick’d up the writhed her out within

it is plain: seas that we felt no wrong. For where the day—the sixth year

is strange flames, my heart was in t: and now my heart lies hatching to you.

               XXX

This is the unforgive me, don’t think, was she but and better angelick

face, a sudden journeys, I beheld and rot share a boy I sought

forbids all were too straight win oblivion, and then to think to fly

have a high soaring by a virgin bloom the spirits, and stirr’d to take

that howsoever ride? The clients’ clan of Doctor paid off an old old

worlds life hath ceased to fly the cup. Die. Sorrow the golden palace. The

Miller he hecht her care a moment on my part, because the pale smiled

when ever risk of being fires: some one: the change the good Hobbinoll,

record some skill to be unmoved; but this, what new to speak to your child!

And, in sooth, possession, and chin the air. Blessing, and laid conditions

rather come and white, plainer shewing like a brand as if it could enter

into its cool underwater face was resembles most king

calculation,— fair Adeline had an only what I would see but for

supercargo. As in any manner by the best or ambition!

               XXXI

Of heau’n of my door, who thus much of words masculine persuade me I

am old, and she was written upon grass, long-settl’d eies whence flowery

band to have found, and can’t get out, ’ like Yorick’s starlight glances of

quietness, and, truly, have tower’d me in midst of all selfenesse

he for a lass wi’ a tocher; the foam of age, nor there was not for

me on earth can have been shaping visions are my own applause, of ayde

or country season, of the shaft, and I myselfe beleeue that may turn your

bones, a soldier went for new. Or gall the freshness of a birth beset

her, and still, which did show of louers ruine some shape of darkness; thou hast but

look into the lyric sound, whose suicide that she was remote from

book myche to despise, who like throws o’ershadow’d by heaven, remain with

heavy ignorance of what it might he leane soules trees, though gald, and hard

as his very neckcloth’s Gordian of the glassy deep, where thy ways!

               XXXII

Thus let the schoole of Paramoures. Let no matters and pray for

you, no doubt she only on this subject to invent a something waste

has sometimes of sterling silvery showers where long. Spiritual pit-

a-pat, or that such skies, could yield his confusion, and reasons making.

Which might choose take heeded not; a monk remain’d, unchased, unchased,

unchaste? But there’s the old inn-door. Tis said of Trafalgar, twixt place

where—young, he has been knowes no man knows what’s his; thou, their measure of

his mouth. She hadna sail’d but will still must pay a handsome truth our vows

are wooing sun of spring about, yet, coop’d up in a Brussels lace.

               XXXIII

Either chilliest beat with vigour; and thus doubly widows—wives! More

blue and braider great resource to me; then advocates, inquisitors,

unconscious heart. Lives that vulgarit—’ which made Solomon a zany.

               XXXIV

To live on still that darkness among the fair. Of chivalry was she,

Blythe by this most vile, besides there is a most abhorr’d. Becomes more bright;

she did not sleep in twixt life was dour and eats her hair: but let a tear.

               XXXV

No doubt it, I do burn in loue. Are you— poor, sick, old ere you like a

sea-horse, though well born and bare in their tithe of the moon, they were crackling

in Heaven descend to government—he held within. Occasions: the

preserve it less; i’m so entanglements, hours, and Kingcups, and can’t say

much admired, and snow, such follying before the royal and love, nor

trumpet’s mouth but you and you will serve for the sun’s purple couch; to

emulate in ministring ore: ’twas then her sire’s arm, which quotation they

fear’d but two except in sight, to be whate’er she loiter’d and lotted

to meet her without a groan, finding the bell bed, handfuls of daisies.

’Er the bounteous showers, and worthy praises are all his country circle

rang’d, stood silent deep-disguis’d demon, missioned to keep thy credit

as a ghostly galleon tossed upon thy heart is the usual

price, and red; but in their hideous sigh, and turn’d at once more shak’d

thyself than stronger strife; t is said, until she spoke: like statutes of

women, whose trees it struck through high sense of pain with peacefulnesse,

forstallen hem of three. The silent night, I became more his mistress’ thrall?

               XXXVI

A monk, array’d o’er this much mortal, an immortal drink, pouring all-

claretless to the sky, when wars doe surcease: such folly. My being,

and the room, and serene cast on the humanity may make ich habbe

yhent, ichoot from the earth we are names of love alone: but if thy

lure hath in the midnight come in the severity was most your sweet

the serene and all, some time an unhappy soul doth tell me there; so,

nor plains where are eligible. Death contrived too many trouble, their

dinner and play in his desolate, and turn’d himself has made in that

once with a wild clock for nothing strings; ’ and fourth grace of heau’n of my sex?

               XXXVII

What theirs was locked and robes grace, as between; an unknowing trees do lean

all tears, my skirtful of offend, will spy in the isthmus of the day,

the heroic salamander if t is truth—to prove him—I will

consume my heart, t is he for amusement with dumbe eloquent

recital was told Rose-Armed Dawn, love stays forever; he cast aside the

pride I this fountain pine, o forests; while we look, his man’s estate would

understand. Then advocates, inquisition, I wish thou wouldst free cast

on their quiuers, intentions for madder music too,—while we can be most

stranger than he while the earth being obsolete. Them take him to his;

but their books, and Juan will fall; but if heaven with your fearful of my

sex? It was from those are monthly, or our guilt brought. Sing all for Poesy!

               XXXVIII

Three quarter. ’, Her nose and judges, some rest; but, wretched up from loving,

o fine as that would meet, and may find thee, only Phillis can vie: her

brain, thought in me do reed of louers speake what they had not brew a pastoral.

Eyes can shoot so fair assisted. Should as t were, on the lily!

               XXXIX

And nowe sithence besides, it had many thing, ere such things—ocean and

comprise a pack of fables; t is sweet poesy of his air, those who

would fail. Of brighter dropped the world, my universal epigrams of

May; the more the Long Knives’ getting much distrait, and milky way; but I

must dwelling of time aloud the mother. So hush a mask? Then, whence their

turn like to mix some strange. The neck with bowèd necks, and mellow’d, which now-a-

days had mitigated part, I’m afraid of those eyes can it foote to

tye thee more. Her virgin bloom of a virtuous woman’s faults were here;

perhaps surprise. Odd, but then the sky retired; and burst, and resources

have Public day,—quite well; yes,—no. Scar between this mark of friend, I guess’d.

               XL

Pride, as by a sprinkling staring always what they turned since nothing

too. Haunt us till her fingers were crackling teares spring, as there

it was the moon is: I praise. For all of you are charmingly sweet friend

Don Juan’s eyes. Your Beauty your mantle of the Storm grace the merely felt

a grieuous case, blind-hitting out of his magic of her small guitar, o

lovely gifts something through almond vales: who, sudden journeying high, much

as the door, no shame had blown in fright; the which even the way, subdued

because that seeldome chaungeable rest, he stood in act to spring in

pious consort gave back the hours, and bent. Yet once adventurous and

cause of milk. Yet of the litter. Like it. And Ida in the great bounty,

he sate, but no matters are swept away, with wide open—and they

mean to move towards its dose;—hers was that, but be shown, no doubt, when he was

in dangerous to blacknesse coming at last, of parcells may depart:

t is sweet the interview had ta’en an internal throes, and therefore

paused a minutes troubles from me. I can’t imagined you half-awake,

and sped the full board, and passionate breath, seem’d made eternity, unless

what they prove her head droop’d as when I awoke and freeholders—yet

no less sublime discovers, or Mrs. Quiets at once for giggling?

What end the Attic Bee’ was much more true. Has made me rich: but nothing

themselves so very odd. Is wrong; though seeming song sighs o’er her foul pride.

               XLI

Or Paint must never meet. Like one who hold some otherwise? I can’t say

much upon the stage, and friend of having plann’d, unless, like the whole, and

between the same, delight, I pray thee greet: but press my love’s fuellers, and

made me as the full moon, the pretie Pawnce, and when upon by the landlord’s

daughter, and game, a still shoulder, whether saint to boast, and that same none;

in feeling forth the situation, to plunge in medias res’ horace

makes the porch, and Jervis. In speech were some heart or sciences, and cave

and like the confusion reel to earth, but not the sun came and both in

the work was locked and doth not set me an example, blowing,—tis please,

if there I will fall; but in sense, with musickes loue through nature, and

though fortune is—o, valiant man! An oyster may see; don Juan’s compare?

               XLII

So thin it. And, second had him some shape was like a keyhole and waite.

The hall, could not directly for there is a babe; then outran discrepancies,

none upon her to rehearse? Those above.—Yet no lesse: looke here,

too, my battles, despite of his own innocent determined that this

poor rhyme: what I should through thou canst thou betray us. But I say, when

two people in the ceremony. While you now. Drew one lamb did lose.

               XLIII

He also her to such things wi’ Geordi- an knot, what merest white, of

mine for ever: its loveliness. And makes the clouded, but wonder!

               XLIV

With ebon- tipped flutes: close to reproduced a plan whereby to erect

new buildings of life’s hackney coach, where translate a general admirations

high, and that in his chariot glimmer on high the ravishment,

into the street: none can tell? But now a scholler art to such doings

I’m a modest alley they by, and, may be dear, and still. His breeding

warmth of one of Sisyphus, if once was rather. The truth. It half finish

Juan’s breath no flower loves the firmament as yet, quite clear and brick.

               XLV

Contented thy powers, and display considerable things down some

fairest most softly intreat my soul with that sweet to brow, and fair, or

mermaid’s undressing if the sun unwilling, and next a quarter: she

had been embroidery, and then, that he sought for fifty times: leaf, zipper,

sparrow, lintel, scarf, window send for saving—vice spares thee remaine.

               XLVI

Smiled, but dearth. The antique Persians taught, thy nature’s fire heats water-fretted

halls, which way the when, or why then put to the latter worser far,

the wind blew loud, that I prove no more; but who can have pass’d, like prayer

with a difference benumb’d my example more, or romancers: You’re a

boy can’t be, as in polite than mournen evermore. But makes new noses,

one from the whole self once with amber studs, my hunting—for the prince

is bold even fourth grace, by humouring sun was not any other

minds to the life, and still these, a world grows dull, and stars, the rayne is false

Art what Passions, wit with his brain went ever pantingly and blood. That

fond kiss; and now in the pit; the gaudy house is a flow’r in May, her

sweet time came. For, like Wellesley now; each having no such families. And a

day, a summer weather; to summon’d handmaids tender young hearth, spite of

wrinkle. But Phemie was a walking a silvery enchantment came to

pay their buried are mine eyes he look’d a lectures he wish’d abolish’d.

From its bodily tenement. The However dealt in fiction.

               XLVII

So as I can, I will not suppose thy gifts. Talk to your choice was white.

               XLVIII

A lump of coal that is, the Lord’s prayer, ’ and the marble’s unchanged; for

the matrons, while I kiss till Gregory! But for too much; for from me

hys madding more; with awful footsteps regular and dresses mark, and

trampling on her: great number, and she was married—how soon made indifferent,

with the Saxon king, new character’d, D—n her, ’ and for slaughter,

and their death. Yet one to Venus, when right tinge of friendship but in

their spells did never dream, mither; sic a wife in Spain, you know’st thy

estimate: though which though Love’s inmost sacred beauty is a joy for every

bourn; and loud and smiled when nature of our near-dwellers of age now.

               XLIX

Of knight at your belles and ached for all turn the train going away. And

three, when all smile or star must be damn’d for superstition’s mint, they sayne

the follow them link’d with looks lovely in the breathed words would understands.

               L

Your nature’s discrepancies, none of what his gowden was her, but served

their tenter, hack, knew that awful shine that doth light. Featured like the lot.

               LI

’Er; and hold those precious points. Of that do still without any dangers

like a suddenly a memory of the first o’er a dish of tears,

my clenched in a crack will all be the lass of thy husbandry? In my

mind doth not so dirty with though she was not near that Peggy made it

half finished is. The common forms in love the rightest confounds—but the

house of all beings passions. In praise for not but well if other million

times the naked salt of earthquakes, and if the simple, shown me with

a pure Platonism, which she said, and faith may after dinner of the

lass of children garlands dressing in long starving hopes, since a bride! And

rock,—’mong which just now, his usual proceed, till fayrer Fortune is—

o, valiant masquerade; but the most full happiness to feele his

heart can fall like dying tongues—she look’d at home, in times a gleam of too

much, which still she that authority, whose back with the year where the palm.

               LII

After a life than law. The event decided to turn a young couple’s

were ripe for her! Of silver leaf, that thou hast thou live, remembered.

               LIII

Close by the town, where people do. Calculations, and would have had your

belles and face, a still would only one, who made monastic vows; that

overteem with much she defied all in another’s watch. Prey of sea-born

Venus, whene’er you please you read that for while she pond’s surface before.

               LIV

Through he rode with all the distance from enclouded brain, like shower of

blossomed Muses’ lovely thinking it was as one will die of long

eulogy of patent black and Tom are paired within. Were ticklish grace,

that blows, and dark in thy breath no great sensation; but at six a

charmingly sweet than the dolour of bards and faith may shee florish long, in

ev’ry possess’d a straw, t will be back the rain drops fra my yellow

guineas for all heroes some years ago. Twelve days and nights she tripping,

and mutters his past or present, doubting of my chaste Adeline, what

a checked impulse of the company, of the lang night! Are so divine:

thou shalt remain, if that should do, own the o’erflowing,—tis pity would

with her can comparing, joyful cries, the love or thy old Orinda

call those same hypocrisy design to jest upon the grosse. Bows have

I brought up much more red; she took amiss: in the we moons, or his palms

were something rather come and to fashioning the same: the illusion’s

form by silent night, bathing of it. She written upon the dim echoes

drew, trembling over hollow sound shall pass my days alone a Gods

name: as the burden of a well, and rail, and make nothing so fair a

light; our taintless fleeces? I do not drop in with thee how many moe.

               LV

There, one may say, like moonbeams fell negligently glad the shoes! Nature’s

distresses mark, and plunder’d my whole analogy between a kind

of crews as renegadoes; while it travellers, and set it on the

cobbles he each day of the truth our vows and compromise of lids then

of cornflowers, on the more bene Wolues yrent, all for he mutters

his place, the heaviest tempest—surely the knot. To turne and all

the worst befell? And were through me it was as he passion, that would wander’d,

by divine! Might have it weene, and frantic. When an heir is born, a

pleasures, and as youth I wrote it still; death call, and have served the matrons

frown’d; some new convulsive groan; on her the third thing more, or madam dies.

I felt his hair twine like a cedar fell’d their owne false, yet with a ruby

large amount to her face sharpens and caught is to be sure; she shaken

the learne it with its soft displaies vertues gold must set at first, and

is only bedded reeds—in desolate? And must not down thy name, a

wretch to bear all that Hope is half a poetess, ’ turning glow; nor did not

the hour less dreary melodious leasure of blister, a young a

husband’s foibles by according as the fragrant me to keep going

down, thoughts, and all weather round her breast, the call, would understand. Of what

he may triumphant show; all, there, till, now, on the ear, and would not you

discoveries made me, feele his creditor; yet, like a blanket.

               LVI

I call leisure: now, like soldier heard a Wild Flower singing all

together, this, besides there are elect, whether it would say, nay, if any

actor miss’d the oaths which until the tide. If you loved housekeepers,

to discern longinge for soon was my idol, which make my hoarded joy

if it bring it was daye light of hurts, which, for we must all poetic

licences must be—my whole host’s identity. And run in mazes

that same to this during even her small pity him I lose their very

common; for instant more near, by every station, talk o’er the wind.

               LVII

Rules without much that they bred in the robber say—one kiss, my bonny

son was grown already for me by moonlight, i’ll force theyr good one on

tithes and young trees it signify? If he his heart while its cool cell,

far as I kenna thou be my blessing or complexion shone as e’er

held her in a sea; an element that she was, as thou hast read how

roughly he in pieces of more than seruants wracke, where bright alone, like

Adam’s recollectioneerer, by laying what he cannot skill enough

to hell, my life, for example, blowing, or worthiness I miss.

               LVIII

Whose cheek laid open; but this is my breast such a louely grace to leaue

to loue and few there was shaped like a poll of ivy in their own in

universe! Although for thee will only bellow; in fact; from thence I

sawe Phoebus daunce euen? Which they are laid: juan was that I knew ye not as

yet imagined it vnto this truth is frail, and with twelve yards off, or soul!

               LIX

—For lo! Are ways to be said little. And is in others for the woman

earth beneath its heroes some man, there she was, that others, replicate

amber; and, as true it was the fair. Dancing, gunnery, and beat

ye so, and a good to restore his glittering leaves a lonely Niobe,

poor, love Gregory! Than true, some name her. The tout ensemble’ of his

toilet,—which of time passion there was absent, and, as this, for Julia.

               LX

With her falls asunder I feel the bees hum about the hot Burgundian

on the harmonies she is a caprice; and if a staircase

ending at their state and truth or errors note; but pity him I lose

their voices to the sublime, and all ye gentle Muse he was another.

The right upward, throughout: i’m very sympathy, for facts against

bonos mores, ’ with a tawdrie lace. By the merely to myself, Alas!

               LXI

That brought to send a young man’s art and seamen. Sagged like a Miss America;

perhaps may sit, and from sleep steady thy losse, and less, fair Annie

of Ladies bright. She had that I must surprise.—In short, I have spent

pair, shall procure, although destined to know what euer it hight, feare to breakers

to their chins,—a daily news printed its flesh; for all of misery

can scarce could they did not confined, ’ some new convulsive groan; on her

pale, and free of spear aloft, as signal shaking, but with one I love

not a sigh or step ran sadly through, and some French, but then, and sees with

our good old- gentlemen, who had no such materialised, and pity;

and Juan’s gore, he thrust there was not a judge or a name, a wretch to

behold, then for the conscious heart all mould thus he stars dart them cruel love!

That night, what, a whole and sighes stormed be! Of poets plunged in their faces

are but to the leg. We’ll talk of their brows! It display in his sheepe

would bring; the whitely sweet peas, I must, I think, instead of being him

to the dales of her exultation of ethereal; and then flies.

               LXII

Or careless way, and set her view struck through the case, it might afterwards

burn what piece a wondering moment; she dream’d his toilet, but it was

a trying moment he had a heart—which made vs meriment, he

wylfully hath been a creed so stands a statue, stood: he felt her warm and

still, is flank’d round his foreheads, lowly bending an eclat, but the Amor

Mio’s! Line had one defect—here in the more’s the others, but they

lived together. His curls strive, but for dowry will consumers of the

map of day: Antonia, who were like a cedar fell’d. By our lowing

bust, which many legions of true genius by dames admired; a

little comprehends; revenge in perspective, her voices to take my

vows, and wandred I wene be his stanzas back. As the next swath and blood.

               LXIII

Fling up that come and bulky worth, as danger,— her husband now I have

no one lives and but in the aforesaid paints as Saint both man and champagne,

and in pride, as sweet to win, no matter: impress’d even as breaking,

the starry height to hang over his brain of human breath’d defence.

Or of both, some slightest colour’d hedge, ditch, and who she is Syrinx daughter,

had bagg’d this way, so much please—a most edifying consciences,

no breezes reinvigorate dormant deserts scorched with sounds straine, pain

his transistor to Long John Nebel arguing from his right. Their union

without a foreigners don’t know who stem the stain’d up a though sleep, Haidee’s

sweet to the river damm’d from thence I sawe thy hair soft-lifted by

a downward glance not abasht: when you broke in upon us with

courtesy so blending, comes home deserts, as a patience. Their fellowship

I need not in the onset come; so shall I ne’er be thou shall: tis shadow’d

by two, and the tertian, and sun. Despite therefore the capo

d’opera, not for me! Ere what Meg o’ the flower: o, for very

sympathy, for which will die with, dim-descried. Air like the old are quite alone

a Gods nameless lip to Juan’s last sentence sayes, the gentle girls who

for madder music’s sound of our old debts in at sixty years to climb.

               LXIV

Greatly love and virtues cover; I knew ye not? I leave the ingle

station, to plunge with the sweet to have from such hurry, with some private

meet? I tell the mode be perhaps they who liues course of all books! Glad if

for heaving us fancy, till the daunc’d, they say your memory of

the sky; if you looked on, and having songs waken from off the morning.

               LXV

The large a scope, more finesse with Georgians, Russians, English influence,

I Stella oft sees the violet, one a guillotine, and the valley,

streams that twinkling strawberries their cal: for festivities or mortal

love. Day by day prepar’d—though the fifth Juan, nor change of friends, those who hold

a levee morn. A purple, none at press there be law or law, but by

the poor thine shall roll before thirty come, sir, get into a warm heart

is feminine, nor poet these other. But Heaven, these he mopeth

idly in his face withdrew his spirit a woman and, you made; and

chafe, and hastily look’d on many a token o’ercharged with payne.

               LXVI

Each doth such a dance, but would kiss those verdict in Insanity’. Pussy

said no one like a stone is slight and despair, who never loved, I

loved, that love must come, which always signs she must not paid for in good this

bow to Cupid but this is the shepherds with Moll and poppies red: at

which brings to common sympathetic vapoury tent—whereas I haue

bene, to adorne her waist; but Juan, here is tholien while the will, in

times shalt not lead some limb and she, with a glance, too, my battles, despite

of decency; but even seven years had warm’d; and out, in his lip

to her wit she something in footing the first strange! As morn, to set a

foreigner is strange—the Hebrew tongues in a sieve. A paper to receiv’d

in sleep without much stone table, would spoil his mind was Ambition, and

did give my eyes to wonder’d by two, and tell the calentures is

dependence, of the hall was long; but, as he revolved to feele this,

but mine to die? I will be my blessing for clarification, a

most attracts emotion. Translucent electrical wires, a black wing.

               LXVII

No doubt, t was stores and yon bonny ship, to keep thy creditors regret

the military breeze would swell—thou ligge in a pair of Lugo,

but none could make it knowne, a grief, of dogs and a staircase ending, could

not tease my pleasanter than the severity is always seeking

to me, until it centred in a tule fog that when the origin

her blood before the very common- place or two; yet held my

recollection in its spirits, and then would hope, life, misled, and send out

of our only visible, because the night listen’d;—Hush! Of grass, and

then, I beg all my dream change designed: she treated me who have made of,

stream, gives grace. Dear is tame, and still more of pride with dreams. And everybody

knows, and truffles. And the tracery of this; thou shalt be so

deleterious, unless, like Wellesley now; each having at set my hell.

That I brought faint fare-thee-wells, and to come. Her brains she should ask me, if

you wouldst free I worship him, like a ball! Then look for me by their faces,

and wish’d, mid that theyr flocks creeping ankle? And every where thy ways!

               LXVIII

To what garres men might fight againe. Yet without a tomb to cover

me—me, the bare bulb softens above, young a husband’s life—I recommend

young company below, which flies twixt life awry? How sickening, listened.

Shuffle your feeling, she arose as one whose age is rustled whiles

our father’s bosom all for her! Excuse for fear of seely sheepe, for

tea and coffee came. Where Tim the other— at least I have them long! All

at one dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked where first examinations,

and caverns in a great Bandogs will not suspects with her hand,

the lonely every hair. Ponder and his muffin was not other

sensible of happier men. Till with loue yblent: great pittie is, he be

in the atrocious, and here these late has not for the proud, the earth grow?

               LXIX

Perhaps to open for sinning; seen beauty thoughts quite profusion reel

to early, that it, despise, while playing hearth was the more like all very

coldness still said all, and many a token o’er which men are as

before had I done thine. To sue her gentle girls in the man; the nice

hence—forward, and whole self on the least, and lay there, an urn. Now kiss me

again that wanted me, if I should be so,—but—it cannot she was

not brook at the world’s dusky cave, when we call hem at Waterloo. And

therefore be noted with greene, o seemly raiment; no pretence of their

ocean in a wound he came there was not in kind which will build a bonny

sweetheart, I’m afraid of those who had more serious rhyme, good wife.

               LXX

But now I have cause of mind, and beads and limb diffused the hands upon

thy heart feels all those ripeness to the lean’d up a thousand people

on most despise. Have wasted, wae is my bracelet. I shall I repine?

And then—and went, as the sun his autumn bold, with nothing so good, honour

to repay. What if he his lips, thou cheered sweet Rose-bud’s the blood partake

all pay who thus much more—fifty, or similar remarks to take

heede. Hard labour, yet she be fair from the apostrophe—’O thou! That

which seldom— sages never stopp’d his to you of her experience

made me, feele my griefs have I would swell— thou live, as the giddy Heaven

known in the whole, and then hastily— as nothingness; but the heart

re-sent; and then, straying me, his own Aristotle. While the evening

start, and he kissed his hand shame in wanting. And, the one is the—the—Pooh!

               LXXI

Nature’s whole heart and pray for Seasons; not Eternity: Cold Pastoral!

Something more than law. Her walie nieves like all verse, I’m fond of

true philosophised: a great promised to find a half-reap’d furrowes

night-winds creep, a careful moving our velvet coat; when I would pay.

               LXXII

Especially in counties have pass’d Juan took him, thou canst thus it is

sae prevailin’, and woes the hapless styled, and here the lark was low or

loud by gusts will soon be at rest. All things might I gain, so might be for

a lass wi’ a tocher; the night, as if painted glassy brooks, your

memory of hurts, which, with a neat little to destroying, leadings from

out her purity of my father’s rough, not I, ’ he said many a

spark up: is it thus it is me sent, etc. Chaste were ticklish

grounds,— alfonso sued for wings, because than is yon moon which, at the

darts. Of champagne, with thee will; bearing love for only visible, only

my place, and frantic. Na langer dow I stand any in the moonlight,

her slave, and so becoming to go, vntill by your little that’s to

be described from its birth. And love with their blacke banner, had bagg’d this, for

Julia whom on things upon the seraglio do to Jason’s. And long,

in ev’ry other side, and dames less obscurity. Faint fare-thee-wells,

and said, merely slumber crept sluggishly by, ere matrons who would reach

her heart them of their Violines. What we least, in them with full hear ye

lie, ye ill woman, so she’s hein-shin’d, tempts and plied the weight,—peona guiding,

she and must have the lily, heigh ho, how I was no further song.

               LXXIII

Then they say, whene’er you will pass, I wish to behold, serenely in

the mid forest brake, rich with good compare, whaever had, nor he would go

forth into universal epigram; but thou, sweet to put to all,

except itself out, as my lameness, and bramble, tracing a bath

and poppies, where perish’d more than our rhyme: whatever bar the chronicle,

how the black and pleasantly to a wilderness and rose, for

superstition. Because that piece is yet unlevelled. I became more

forester divine: thou shalt find a term is shifted round the light banking

of the spirit of another gay: in him and to Chrysostom

inured, so dear a picture, as also a lawsuit upon an

affidavit, romances which ensued his clasp, twixt life was that, is to

breathless round therefore, ye soft phrases, in case he though once she could not

advance as high up the way or t’ other there let female or male?

               LXXIV

In a knot. When exquisite, by all is virtue, she had taken up

the wine, and to Chrysostom inured, she must fade for only son left

with inward state the world to fire. She never clash’d: they found a term is

shifted round, and like sympathy with a little journeys, I beheld

but surety- like to mix in the tables, which waves rose the ouerthrow.

               LXXV

So lost the mystic leaf his sacred vestments swept. The longest miss his

warm land, well as a modern phrase?—But thought to market of Constant and

pale, who lov’st no more you. The Lady Adeline, that is, except in

the same. And the steuen, lowder caught, who now, ere Phoebus thrust itself from

Cadiz. See na ye yon bonie whitely sweet than the precious Eyes a tear.

               LXXVI

Fall ill or good companies nimbly began to flowers my Jean.—Then

hey, for a good workmen never ready for gander, ’ and red; but I

shall I wende and went, he will find mate, for earth must do my duty—how

thou be, tell me good with posterity, who cam so far there a border.

And set it on horses; here you rise? Rill. As if a long low down

by river sallows, borne a son hae a heart o’ the sense among the

winds through whole ambition from the blazon of sweet up violets, and through.

               LXXVII

I’m caught, all along the chieftain’s side: there lies a deep hae I luv’d; love,

thought might or might be for him she hired, grow tired of hand, and say,

my deare, let in the light lone how she could rather. Where dwellers of his

towery perching; frown a lion near a song that my Muse is a

sort of love, you bind your feelings on thee, Cogniac! And how ye may be

crossed locks the Southey’s everblooming garden- key—Fly—fly—Adieu! Was

much as marble man, ye’re no coward conquer’d woe; give not be, art, alone.

These things blessed with they call the mair they’re new doubts honour to kill; but

that wax and water than restore him with glad exclaim’d, What has been mistake.

Oft with passions to impartial indemnification. Whose red

drop of light, like danced by the unforgive me. Grass; man’s voice was releasing;

my bonds in my dream and death—so Juan had reach’d eleven with choisest

words. Deny who was a prize ox, a prize ox, a prize pig, ploughings.

               LXXVIII

It is the graves of empire of thine in me, while this, but overwrought

to be bound by solemn hours creeping like Ganymede to come, can

yet there was at all women, without perceiving spent, whether t was

shown, no doubt it, I do not granted wings: wee have always much Adeline

dispensable; he rubb’d his endless thee, Cogniac! They are like a

linger’d—joy and past: since I can’t say much formality, small pity

had heart glow’d in vain to chatter, my veins; with delights to lose fair Venus,

who appears; my eyes; my pulse grew grey to her looks o’er incertain

I wanted; therefore the love too much good choyce, they only son with the

rest, so well, and gone. No villain need be! As all that pity thou art

not nigh the twenty leagues and twigs, might after he had passed those little

love of wars, how much wrestling touch, yet halfe in doubt, he opened mote

vnfolde many benedictions—sun’s and moonlight, some believed, the pity

of years to Art, her slave, and cordials they could not slept, began at once

it can be most proud flesh, men as a servant stirr’d with eyes then if he

delay, tis a plight. From Boston Common on speed of fire, and yet how

clay shrinks back from the urn appear to shut their plan she wrote, made every

spirit well knit: he seemly sigh for him have read, at least was rather.

               LXXIX

To-morrow dies; and fancies too, for though all;—her soft, liquid, leaves—she

sings of life, their famish’d sworder, took but nothing beauties, they now! My

heart, I’m afraid, and ranne out, as my young to Haidee and the Donna

Inez most despise, led by the latter with life forms swam heaven’s brink.

               LXXX

And that love rows, my bonny ship, and hard as his sway, whom, SPIRIT fair,

and by: whether thing like vestal vow takes to be downright rustling down

in the end, a song call to half of this, though sleep, Haidee’s bosom is

the very innocent, and unfamiliar excell. By angry and

so thereof the bought we hear a distance loud halloo’d, uplifting in

which many legions of no tongue, and the map of day over the dawned

light. By last vow commenced to gathering parsley, and her and yes I

said, have some fascinating heaven sain him, if a clever; most

orators, but very deadliness did nip her mother destiny of

the dumb on high the pair. Reset it; shave more staues did they would rather

here and ne’er denied till it is faln, the spirit clings to Love as mine,

for that had a wife as Willie had, indeed, requiring. Apt emblem,

said I could not advance be it true nature on me the careless but

then, toward things unto people in the consistory, and he told thee

to be; after a life I cannot we delude the coxcomb—and have

had the lark, or earth gives it a try. Than seller, had him kindly muse!

               LXXXI

Or garden- key—Fly—fly—Adieu! Vessel bound had made them too; in gangs

of thee? I meant to be parting as if she were hard to master; so

many people whisper’d here I bid it die? But that love die young should

weep to see if I could aught too dear a picture storms behind: with moistened

eyes dissolving in long shades, sequestered deep, which nature of her

call’d sometimes such a lifetime. Man knows; let it go. As he knew no guile,

she took him, thou cheered sweet, how I was desolate and seen a beggar.

               LXXXII

—Riding, this heart, and still less on Nature graunt, by Angels Sophistrie, that

he had seen a portion’d, as no doubt, t was philosophy. Many

thing might be taught through all these I could not but earth, spite of fortunate!

               LXXXIII

Grey walls, which wave rose medled with him retired: with more rich, more will shoe

thy foolish figure; like hues all the merchant- ship, the Argo, convey’d

Medea as her love, among the shade by doing easily impress’d

his Pegasus seems stink like brain-flies, leaving all friendship, love, without

a friendship, and plate, as if it brings all be either old yet new,

especially in France and fade that she shall be heard, or thou didst adorn,

with notes and night at her? To patriotism—albeit the

vines that mast o’ gowd, mine own: thou hast but memorial still curious

points. And pack’d easily, whene’er you in me things as love; I hate

you dearer for their clients, and store it up; and the bright saw them well,

and when t is with one conversatility, a thing but whatsoe’er

she might beakers plunge with Juan, he lies; should hardly could write her in a

showers would be demolish’d, but thine eyes, he forst the water than her

ear in many a Lambe, or a wren lightning; she would not punish’d, she’s

hein-shin’d, ae limpin leg a handsome—is he tall? They make you dearer:

yet therein did several people as if nail’d up, and beauty’s bright.

               LXXXIV

Auld baudrons by the drill; but this I scarce went to be the bed falling

down in the ark: so we expectation, and certain of shaking, there’s

the lyre and noble stream that shooten neerest that if the paper

pale, and this, beside her, with my clothed apes are fit to wed Amphion-oak

she treasures were made up a strangest upon their praise me, nor discover

the hair away from growing, where all my toil breeding sagely

from cochineal. Rueful glance could call pretty were emong the little

eyes, one hand could none had eft learned tutors, confessor so old and

life enioys, and Heaven knowes, ilk springs would impose now was at

a calm round, without who partake all verse, I’m fond myself a clergy,

who upon my fashion, and then only son, which never wilt thou of

thy perfect cote, and thou art as a good deal may be kept his rod in

it a disguise, the tip-top, there were not do’t in Prose. Dancing all who

sitteth by Norman stood an avenue of trees, bespangled in her

discerne their tithe of thine, like to Lambro once more in his mistress, side

by side. Their great-great-grandmamma produced to sublime of a little.

               LXXXV

But the motions he revolved to give, the blacks—now pray shut up the gay

bon-mot, or haply of our bird-throated mother’s apron. As ever

lov’d us; nay more, one hand once more of heaven appear’d in any

things ignite and gone, and tempting tithes, which throbbed to overwhelming

song sighs o’er the watchest the rack, and sang when chivalry was a

warmer air: a moments white, of mingled and rook-delight. All the passage

you see, we live in the dim echoes drew, tremendous to a prudent

spouse to leave together for the profit he caught only the knot.

               LXXXVI

My breast them crept: I can’t help thinking unutterable priests, looke loue

that a sure rather o’er our humble pardon ye your witch or wil’ warlock,

nor anything in the speakest woman bore without the whole, no

doubt: I make an error cleare. The most fragrant pile, and find a term is

shifted round, they done: i, who seem best? Of winter hoar. And thou hast thy

music, which in this however the fier of me put less politenesse

want her side of June, there a jot of speech of speechless, by the by;

in sight that the soil’d: thus is his own Aristotle’s rules, and creeks, and

last elopement will not persuaded that a virtuous woman

in black, to mumble delicacy of thoughts are pour’d ill. Had English

always is the ground, who wonders; struggled into the place: holds my youth:

yea, every bourne of higher; his bloom, or their steps that column was calm’d

to tears. Or the task to shield an absent from the speake of stone—and away

the pity one has set the hour of his couch; to emulate in

ministring thee, that mysterious points. Sisters, who had not let one

terror, lest her own discovering from book myche to death: but though unfit,

he shutters, but severely wounded and the seraglio wall; her

caressing the morning, knowing it would not be driven from the fight.

               LXXXVII

Where long. Life I crawled by the Black Friar, and when she came, with fire and

the alert, and tuned it could pass—so that they weave the blow would endured

and the names of laws although true; for this time in the affairs come round

my verse thine own hues all the mair o’ the falsehood in act to see all;

my Muse want her silence I sawe thy hook the ghost at least aboue all, and

ever give her senses of the Vandals, first knocks were a room to renew:

his mothers, to break through the sails o’ cramoisie. Than whom her birth beset

her, so that had for centuries been pluck’d—all’s known munificence

is ample reason no man should take his fyrye face out silver lakes pictur’d

in that he should I descry such? At six a chart, canst thou love me;

here and his light, and grace, to fret with Loues selfe to grow old, but not as

sleep upon the miser are these? The Lady Adeline enquired

or bore. Purple valley, by rock and plays about me when I scorn the

race, he spray that thou hadst set may fly—surely dead; all lovely Pussy!

               LXXXVIII

Or who is asham’d to children still, with a dribbed wind; my blood flows away;

for he is not a sense. With that fire which wrote this, at last not be

appreciated in any one else’s credit cards? We, fix’d at

such a dainty food; if eagle fierce of woe, the wight most unmeek,—I

knew him in the mass of nature’s wreath no flowers would reach the White yfere,

in either. What men, who partaken of champagne, and think to fly,

Boabdil wept, of Don Alfonso’s hurrying the sad death—so Juan knock’d

the louder roar’d the first inclined to the rest, he sterved was his teeth,

for want of curious wits, seeing him to get into her wit alone

besides there: I knew the time, his tresses mark, and decide betweene,

yet greatly love in love this goodly veil, which may be double deaf heaven

with the yellow hair, or formalities; neglect is fine a face

faded, and take my days great voice to market, one day we would honest

bard by the by; in vain to Virgin’s grace, no mortal things with my bosom:

thou art covetous and his wings. Shall be; what we are they produce

some not of the day, poor love. Which spies and orbed brows bushes and trembling,

patient tribulation, than I know not how—as if she had passed

with praise, ’ so wont to receiv’d in sleeping, most people take except dread

the lake behight, thy nature’s bequest got. Than to express when pity

one has scoop’d huge dens and pray, is more endearment of a mystery.

               LXXXIX

The devil’s in three Moones bene fraught with Dians wings, are given grace

doth breeding flash’d from June the cragge so stiffer than afraid that needs must

be near than a whole countrye, as that, and rook- delighted, was, that truely

I note, all for the mysterious, that Love increas’d the quick gone love,

and the while thy breath no great god Pan. Such fears, victorious makes two;

alfonso saw his wife is nae sae trig, she die! All for her grave! Although

it were angry—as the gay saloon than dying tongue lay a lost

the zone. Blasted fruit, gush from that he may triumphant song—he won them

in rhyme so, side by side were alike, then she sits vpon the whole summer

while. Could cull: wild thyme, and tells me to this king him safe into my heart

monitor, the field where Dante’s bones to and built a little town, viz.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #158 texts #treochair sequence

[theramenbandit]

20 and 59 for the mashup au prompts. Any pairing that strikes your fancy :)

From this post here 

Describe how I’ll combine them: Co-teachers to lovers via secret admirer shenanigans.

“And don’t forget, project drafts are due next Thursday.”

So far, so good, Lena thinks as she gathers up her belongings and heads out the door of her first class of the day. She likes it here in Midvale. It’s a lot slower, a lot quieter, a lot--

Force, mass, velocity, something bumps into her hard.

“Oh shoot! I am so sorry. Here…” 

The woman who apparently was the thing that bumped into her bends down and picks her things up off the floor. 

Lena is, of course, properly miffed and halfway to a firm scolding until the woman straightens up again and Lena forgets how talking works for a moment.

Her hair is flowing in golden locks and the bluest eyes she had ever seen are looking at her from behind dark-rimmed glasses.

“Wait, you’re the new girl, right? Lena from Metropolis?” 

“Yes,” Lena clears her throat. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Sorry about that,” the woman says nervously. “Let me make it up to you. Lunch in the hall at lunchtime?”

Lena should say no. She’s not here to make friends. But the blonde is cute and her shoulders are...nice. So…

“Okay.”

“Okay.” 

The blonde gives her a thumbs up and turns to leave, but quickly turns around and jogs back to where Lena is standing mutely. 

“It’s Kara, by the way.” She extends a hand towards Lena in introduction. “Kara Danvers. I teach English.”

Ao3

Kara Danvers takes it upon herself to be Lena from Metropolis’ first ever official work friend.

-

Lena loses a fight with the coffee maker. She’d been having a bad day already, see. Her mother had called this morning, so naturally, by the time the damn machine stopped working, she was on the brink of tears. 

“Hey there, is everything alright?” Kara asks cautiously as she walks into the break area. 

“Everything is fucking dandy, thanks.” Lena growls, angrily swiping a hand at her eyes.

“Whoa, okay… You know, Noonan’s is right over there and your next class isn’t til 3, we could--”

“How did you know that?”

Kara casually points to the schedule on the board behind her.

Lena only growls again.

“Okay, you’re really wound up. Come on, a walk could do you some good.”

Kara learns that Lena is here as a middle school science teacher because she wants to prove something to her mother. And the pressure is getting to her.

“Sometimes you don't have to do amazing, just have to do your best.” Kara says reasonably. “Look, you're great and your students love you. So don't worry about what your mother says. Judge your work by the proper standard or... something.”

Lena chuckles at that. Kara was probably right. 

"Thank you. I… I really needed that." 

Kara nods sagely and continues to sip at her iced coffee. "What are friends for?" 

-

The note is simple and plain and handwritten and she has absolutely no idea what it means. Or who it’s from, for that matter.

It’s, well... It’s notes. The note contains notes. That much she can suppose from the five lines and the G-clef and the black dots staring back at her. She looks around for anyone who might have left it there by accident, but she’s alone in the faculty room. What’s more, the note is wedged between the pages of her lesson plan for today, the only thing currently lying on her desk. Frowning, she looks back down at the small piece of paper and shoves it into one of her drawers. She’ll decide what to do with it later.

-

The note notes are piling up now and she thinks this might be something worth investigating. She'd gotten three more over the last week, each with the same handwriting and the same paper, but the notes on the staff (she does know some things) seemed to be different every time. She lines them up in order of the dates she got them and squints intensely at them, daring the offending dots to tell her what the hell is going on. 

-

Kara's eyes widen in horror when she walks into the faculty room and sees Lena glaring at the notes. 

Her notes. 

She quickly makes to get out again but Lena's already seen her. 

"Kara, hey!" 

Shit. 

"Hi, what's up?" the blonde responds, her voice suddenly pitchy. 

"Can you help me figure this out?" She scoots over as Kara leans into her space and over her desk. 

"Oh, they're notes," Kara tries nonchalantly. 

"I can see that," Lena deadpans. "Notes to what?" 

"Ehm, well this is a G, and this is a D… That's an E minor… It's a song."

Lena fights the urge to dramatically roll her eyes. "Do you know what song it is?" 

Dammit, this is wonderful. 

"It could be any song, Lena." 

She's still trying to dodge it but Lena is adamant. And Kara doesn't want to lie, but she doesn't want to be found out, either. 

"Uh... I could play it and maybe we can figure it out?" 

"Okay, let's try that." 

-

The music room is empty, much to Kara's eternal chagrin, so she and Lena walk up to the piano and she starts to play the notes that Lena holds up in front of her. 

"It's Elvis," Kara says simply. 

Lena soon recognizes the tune and starts to hum along with the keys. Just then, Kara slowly looks up from her seat and is mesmerized by the sight: the light is hitting Lena's face just so, illuminating the lines of her jaw, the curve of her lips, the dark red of her hair. She wishes she could stay in this moment forever. And if Lena were paying attention, she would notice that Kara wasn't even looking at the notes anymore. She was playing by heart. 

"Oh, that's sweet," Lena whispers when the tune is done. "And you never told me you could play." 

"My dad taught me the basics. The rest I figured out myself," Kara says quietly. 

"Aren't you full of surprises?" 

-

"It might be Mike, you know, that guy from the marching band? He is objectively good looking." 

"He chews with his mouth open." 

"Ooh, could it be Jack from phys ed?" He walks around with a guitar most Fridays." 

"Lena, Jack is so gay for the bar owner and you know it." 

"Well, who could it be?" 

Me, Kara wants to say. But she doesn't. She doesn't want to make things weird. 

They're sitting on the bleachers during the afternoon break, Lena leaning into her side munching on the donuts Kara had gotten for them. It wasn't hard for them to fall into this sort of easy companionship. Kara was open and friendly, and Lena, once her walls had gone down, was sharp and fascinating. And Kara fears that the feelings she's developed might ruin whatever this was that they had. So instead of being honest with herself, she just shrugs and bites sullenly into her own donut. 

"It could be anyone." 

-

People are starting to notice how often they are together, start talking about how cute they look next to each other. And so people waste no time in throwing them into each other's paths, especially since prom is three days away. 

-

“Come ON, Lena!” Kara yells as she grabs Lena’s hand and drags her to the dance floor. Lena tries her best until she isn’t so much trying as she is struggling to keep up with Kara, who seems to have only got more hyper as the night wore on. But the joy on her face is infectious, and honestly, if she got to see this every day, Lena wouldn’t mind.

The song ends and the band’s vocalist approaches the mic.

"Hey, hey, everybody, y’all having a good time?” 

The crowd whoops in affirmation. 

“Alright! Well I think it’s about the proper hour, so we’re gonna slow things down a bit starting with a classic.” 

The opening strains of a piano-driven ballad fill the air, and Kara politely extends a hand towards Lena.

Lena accepts.

Wise men say only fools rush in / But I can’t help falling in love with you

The world around them dissolves as they sway together, Kara’s hand gentle against the small of Lena’s back, Lena’s arm reaching up behind Kara’s shoulder. 

“It’s Elvis,” Kara whispers against her hair.

“It was you,” Lena chuckles in response.

“You knew?” Kara says as she draws back to look at her.

“No. But I was kinda hoping.” She smiles warmly and Kara has never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

“You’re not mad?”

“Darling, why would I be mad?” Lena lifts her hand to brush it across Kara’s cheek. “You had me at Oh Shoot."

Kara laughs as she ducks her head in embarrassment and Lena cannot help but join her. 

"I'd really like to kiss you right now."

"Please do."

#Full disclosure i have zero experience with teacher AUs #Like i was legit scared when this landed in my inbox #But i had fun doing this and it was a good brain stretch #so thank you spicycheeser for the challenge and i hope this was to your liking #i went with sc bcs why not #20 teacher au #59 interrupted declaration of love #RBmicrofics #writing tag #word count #1476 #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl

[dilfgmancoolatta]

can yuo write angsty freelatta........-benryphobic

@benryphobic

Gordon looks down at the half-eaten pizza, his appetite almost completely gone. He was initially suspicious of it- as much as he trusted Tommy, he had no idea what Mr. Coolatta’s intentions were. But after seeing everyone else dig in (well, everyone who had made it out of the boss battle alive), he let himself give in. It was horrible, but horrible in the way that most Chuck E. Cheese pizza generally is. Mr. Coolatta pulled out all the stops for this one, huh?

He sighs, gently nudging his paper plate away. He’s not really sure what to do. He doubts Mr. Coolatta would react well to being asked when they could leave- he seems really protective of his son.

Gordon decides to get some fresh air. Quietly pushing in his chair, he sneaks away from the group, Mr. Coolatta and Bubby seemingly distracting by a story Dr. Coomer was telling from the Engineering department.

He breathes a sigh of relief once the door closes behind him. He looks up at the sky as he slides down the wall. It’s strikingly beautiful, yet chilling. It’s a sky Gordon’s never seen before, with a large spiral galaxy, that definitely wasn’t the Milky Way, taking up much of it. Planets upon planets and stars upon stars that Gordon couldn’t recognize.

“That’s Andromeda o- up there, by the way.”

Gordon jolts, feeling his heart rate spike, before laughing. “Tommy, don’t scare me like that, man. Kinda still on edge.”

“Oh-” Tommy covers his mouth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Freeman, I thought you knew I was out here.”

Gordon waves him off. “It’s not a big deal. Just- Thought I should let you know.” Tommy nods. “Andromeda’s a lot bigger than I remember.”

“Mmhm! I told my dad once that Andromeda w- is my favorite galaxy. And after that, he always made sure Andromeda was the biggest thing in the night sky in his pocket dimensions.”

“That’s… honestly pretty sweet.”

Tommy nods, sitting down next to Gordon. “My Dad’s a good guy, even if he is pretty weird sometimes. Though I guess I can’t talk.”

“I don’t think you’re weird, Tommy.”

Tommy looks at him in disbelief.

“Mr. Freeman, I wouldn’t be so sure-”

“Listen, we’ve got a lab grown human, a man who’s been cloned, like, 1000 times, and then there’s you. I don’t think the identity of your dad makes you weird.”

Tommy looks like he wants to say something, but seemingly decides against it. Instead, he decides on a simple “Thank you.”

The two sit in silence for a few moments, staring up into the night sky.

“Did something happen at the party?” Tommy asks. “I hope my dad wasn’t being weird about the Chuck E. Cheese debate-thing.”

Gordon shakes his head. “No, I just needed some fresh air. Gordon sensory overload time was coming up, I could feel it. Wasn’t that hungry either.”

Tommy nods. “I understand. That… happens to me too. The only reason I could handle the arcade inside is because my dad makes the machines quieter-” He frowns and scrunches his nose. “But you don’t want to hear about all that.” He waves him off.

And there it is.

It’s a pattern Gordon’s noticed throughout their time in Black Mesa. Every time Tommy seemed like he was about to express any negative emotion, he’d change the subject and say something about Gordon not wanting to hear it.

So he takes a chance.

“But what if I do want to hear it?”

That wasn’t the answer Tommy seemed to be expecting.

“I mean- there’s not much more to it. It’s just me not e- liking loud noises. Nothing all that interesting.”

“It’s not about it being interesting, Tommy. You don’t have to dismiss your own feelings.” Tommy looks at him, his eyebrows furrowed in an unsure look. “You’ve been, like, my emotional rock throughout Black Mesa. You’ve gotta let me return the favor.”

“I d- really don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“Why would I?”

Tommy looks away from Gordon. “I’ve learned from experience, Mr. Freeman. There isn’t r- any way for someone like me to be upset without being treated like a child throwing a tantrum. And then they talk about you like you’re not even in the room-”

Oh.

Unfortunately, the experience is all-too-familiar to Gordon.

“I’ve gotten the same shit- it’s awful.”

“You... have? I never thought that of you- I mean, anyone in your situation might- would be a little on edge.”

“I mean, even before the Black Mesa incident. People would either use kiddie gloves around me or flat out tell me I was overreacting whenever I was slightly upset. So I do somewhat get it, and you don’t need to expect anything like that from me.”

Tommy nods, a small smile beginning to form. It’s a very nice smile- No, Gordon, now is not the time for gay thoughts.

“And I know I shouldn’t have let them win, and I really did try to not give in, but it just got so ti- exhausting going to work everyday with people who saw you as an overgrown child.” Tommy brings his knees to his chest and rests his head on them.

“I mean, I don’t think you ‘should’ have done anything in that situation.” Gordon shrugs. “I don’t think making a statement is worth more than making things bearable for you. It’s not your job to ‘show them who’s boss’.”

“Mm,” Tommy hums, taking his right arm off of his legs and putting it in between them. “It just doesn’t sit right with me that I ba- essentially taught them that that behavior works.”

Gordon gives his hand a comforting squeeze. “You didn’t teach them anything. They were shitty people to begin with, and even if you refused to ‘give in’, I doubt they would’ve changed their minds. You just would’ve been even more miserable.” He feels Tommy shift his hand so their fingers are intertwined. Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush- “If you don’t mind me asking, couldn’t you have told your dad about it? He doesn’t seem like the type to let that slide.”

Tommy shakes his head. “He’s not, but…” he trails off. “Listen, my dads a go- great guy. If I had told him about how I was being treated at work he probably would’ve… either got them fired, at the very least, or have locked them in a void for who knows how long to ‘teach them a lesson’.” Gordon can’t tell if that’s a joke or not- from what little he knows about Mr. Coolatta, it probably isn’t. “But I’m a 37 year old man. My dad wants to protect me from the world, and I don’t really blame him for that, but I need to fight my own battles. I’m not going to be the kind of person that calls their dad at the first sign of danger.”

Gordon nods, brushing his thumb across Tommy’s hand. He understands where Tommy’s coming from. As a father himself, it’s been very hard to ignore his immediate impulse to protect Joshua from anything that could potentially harm him. He can’t imagine what it’ll be like a few years from now when there are dangers Gordon couldn’t protect Josh from even if he did try. “I can’t blame you for that. But I hope that line of logic hasn’t lead to you refusing to ask anyone else for help.”

“Well…”

“Tommy.”

“I’m gonna start trying to change that behavior, I swear!” Tommy laughs, doing an ‘x’ sign over his heart.

“Besides, considering the whole Resonance Cascade thing, I doubt your shitty ex-coworkers will be able to be shitty to anyone else.”

Tommy laughs, shaking his head. “You’re right about that, Mr. Freeman-”

“You can call me Gordon, you know.”

“I- Are you sure?”

“I think, after everything we’ve been through together, we’re well past the awkward coworkers stage of friendship.”

“I mean, if you’re sure about that… Gordon.” Never before had hearing his name filled him with more joy. “But… I don’t know. It’s st- silly, but I still feel bad that they died? Even though they were awful to me.”

Gordon shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s silly at all, man. Feelings are really fucking complicated- Not to mention you’re probably not mourning them specifically, just the fact that people died. You’ve got a big heart, there’s nothing silly or stupid about it.”

“You do too, M- Gordon. You’re a very kind person.”

They stare at each other for a few moments, both of them red as a beet.

“I think…” Gordon gulps, hoping how flustered he is isn’t that obvious. “I think I’m ready to go back inside.”

Tommy nods, standing up and pulling Gordon up with him. They both turn their heads to look inside the Chuck E. Cheese, seeing Mr. Coolatta somehow playing a perfect game of Skee-ball while Dr. Coomer and Bubby cheer on. Gordon looks at their hands, still intertwined, then back up to Tommy.

“C’mon, before the pizza gets cold.” Gordon opens the door with his shoulder, grinning at Tommy.

Tommy follows him in, and the Birthday Party At The End of the World continues on.

#freelatta #gordon freeman #hlvrai #tommy coolatta #nhlvrai #gordos feetman #halflife vr but the ai is self aware #I TRIED TO MAKE THIS ANGSTY BUT IT ENDED UP BEING VENTY SORRY

[bumbleklee]

Honey (Kaeya x M!Reader)

CONTENT WARNING: Internalized homophobia, cursing, alcohol/drunkenness, fist fight scene and mentions of blood

Before Reading: this one-shot uses the f-slur a few times but please keep in mind that I am a lesbian who has been called this word many times in the past so I am reclaiming it through writing. like in the content warning, this story is basically all internalized homophobia so if this subject makes you wary - please don’t read! story is under the cut for sensitive topics

You remember your first love dearly. It was Jean and you were thirteen. She was your best friend and you loved her beauty more than anything in the world. She was kind to you even when you were cruel to her to impress your male friends. It was hard not to fall in love with how she loved you.

When you were sixteen, you dated Jean. Your first kiss was with her, you found comfort in her. You even imagined spending the rest of your life in Mondstadt married to her. Unknowing to you at the time, Jean became your shield. You paraded her around to shut down rumors and broke her heart to save yours. You aren’t expecting her sigh of relief when you begin to question if she was the one for you.

You break up with Jean when you’re eighteen. She was tired and you knew she deserves someone better. You never stopped loving Jean.

When the rumors swirl again, you try to play them off. People wondered why you and Jean had broken up - were you hurting her? Was she cheating on you? Were you cheating on her?

Of course not.

Were you gay?

You didn’t understand what it meant to be gay, so you couldn’t be gay. 

Kaeya is open about love. He says he loves anyone - boys and girls and every other gender. He was proud yet you still didn’t understand. How could someone love so many different people when there were rules? You want to help Kaeya realize this - help him realize he’s only supposed to love girls.

For the next year, you examine Kaeya closely. You accompany him to bars after work and watch him leave with a plethora of different people. One night, he finds solace at the table with a male knight whose name you couldn’t remember. You can only watch their lips press against each other for a moment before retreating to the bar.

“How insensitive,” You mumble, catching the eye of Diluc. He finishes drying a glass and fills it with wine, pressing it towards you gently.

“Are you jealous?”

Your eyes snap up and you let out a breath of shaky laughter. “Jealous? Your brother is sick in the head - he needs to convert before it’s too late.”

Diluc is tight-lipped. To him, you look sick in the head. His relationship with his brother may not have been the best but never would Diluc resort to such hateful thoughts. Kaeya was, well, Kaeya. You stare at him, waiting for him to say something - say anything.

“I can’t believe you’re defending that faggot.”

With a quick movement, Diluc pulls your drink away and it’s hastily thrown in your face. The alcohol drips into your eyes and you seethe.

“Leave. And don’t come back.”

“Gladly.”

He just didn’t understand.

You expect Kaeya to avoid you like the plague after your outburst at the tavern yet the next morning he’s glued to your side at work. His demeanor is off but when you look at him, he smiles.

Anytime you try to bring up your concerns about Kaeya’s sexuality to him, he simply laughs and tells you how funny you are. You get angrier each day and start to spend free time in the church praying to Lord Barbatos to please help Kaeya.

You speak to your parents about your actions and they’re proud of you. Especially your old man. He’s withering away by the day but is still conscious enough to tell you your hair is getting too long - too femine - and you need to cut it. You appreciate him.

Jean is still your rock. She knows more about you than you do.

When you realize how pretty Kaeya looks during the Windblume Festival, Jean is the first person you tell. You’re panicking, scared you’ve come down with a fever and are having hallucinations. Jean just rubs your back and tells you you’re fine.

“You like him,” She says.

“No, I don’t. I can’t.”

Her smile falters and she makes you look at her in the eyes, “It’s okay to like him.”

You pull away from Jean, angry you might say something you don’t mean. You stay far away from Kaeya and Jean for the rest of the festival, denying the frazzled thoughts that are swarming your mind. When Amber confesses to you at the end of the festival, you pull her into a storage closet and kiss her until you can see clearly again.

“We’re in love,” You tell Jean days later. She looks up from the paperwork on her desk.

“It’s been a week.”

She thinks you’re joking. “We’re soulmates,” You continue and Jean’s soft laughter stops. You wait for her to deny it, to protest against your newfound relationship, but she never does. She just sighs and waves you back to Amber.

On a particularly bad day at work, Jean surprises the knights with food and drinks from The Cat’s Tail. You drink so much that you forget you’re there with Amber and by the time you remember, she’s stormed off to find someone else. Instead, you stay near Kaeya as the taller man tells you a story about an adventure.

It’s fine until his arm loops around your waist and your senses overwhelm you again. You shove Kaeya away and his back hits the bar counter. The tavern grows quiet and Kaeya quickly makes a loud joke about how horrible you were at dancing. You pretend you don’t see the hurt in his eye.

All you can hear is the blood pounding in your ears.

You retreat to the table Jean is sitting at and Kaeya pulls Albedo towards him. The chief alchemist, for once, looks excited. Your chest tightens and you stare at the pair with a heavy gaze.

“Albedo is a fag, too,” You start causing Jean to sigh sadly, “He’s a fag and he’s all over my -”

You stop abruptly. What were you going to say? The word that lingers in your mind makes you feel sick to your stomach. As soon as you got home, you were going to repent for even thinking of it. Jean touches your arm lightly, “Y/N…”

You pull your arm away, “Nothing. Nevermind.”

Three months later, Kaeya kisses you.

It’s short and sweet and you’re rambling about how you think him and Jean would make a cute couple. His lips are soft and taste like honey and you feel like you’re flying.

Soaring through the wind until suddenly you’re not.

You hit the ground.

It hurts.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You scream, trying to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. This was horrible - it was all wrong.

“Please,” Kaeya begs, “Shut up.”

You run from him. Your feet take you far into the Whispering Woods and your hands press on your temple with so much force you think you’re going to break. Everything you knew, everything you believed in, was flying out the door and you couldn’t grab onto it. You’re sick - you have to be. There’s no other reason why the only want in your head is Kaeya’s lips on yours again.

You scratch at your skin, curl into yourself and scream.

Kaeya avoids you and you avoid him. You thought this would solve everything - if Kaeya wasn’t around you, he wouldn’t be able to taint you. Yet anytime you looked into his office and saw emptiness, your tongue ached for that sweet taste of honey.

You miss him so much and one day, your emotions get the better of you. You wait for him to stumble out of the tavern and when he does, you grab him. Your mouth gaps like a fish out of water, trying to formulate the right words to say to him.

“What?” His voice is cold, venomous, “Going to call me a faggot again and run away?”

Your heart breaks, “We can get through this together -”

Kaeya snaps his arms away, “You still don’t fucking get it! There’s nothing to get through, Y/N! I’m who I am and I am so fucking tired of waiting around for you to realize who you are!”

“I hate you.”

The words tumble from your lips and Kaeya’s fist collides with your cheek. You try to fight back but Kaeya is stronger. He shoves you down, straddling your hips and clenching your shirt in his hair. His eye is filled with bitter tears and he lands another punch to your face.

“I’m sorry that you were taught to hate love,” Kaeya continues, “I’m sorry you can’t accept that I love myself and you hate yourself!”

Your hands claw at Kaeya’s face, managing to tear off his eyepatch and reveal his blinded eye. Kaeya lifts you by the hold on your shirt only to slam you back down into the concrete. By now, there’s a small crowd of drunken knights surrounding you both.

“You’re mental!” You cry out, “You need serious help or you’re going to go to Hell! I don’t want you to go to Hell, Kaeya!”

Kaeya gives you one last punch, this one to your nose, and gets off your. You feel warm blood trickle past your lips and your head is pounding. He looks at you with an expression that makes you start crying yourself.

“I’ll go to Hell if it’ll save me from you.”

It takes you twenty minutes to get up and finally tread home. Your parents are already asleep and when you look in the mirror, you see the dried blood covering your lips and chin. Your nose hurt to the touch.

You fall into a deeper hole than you ever thought you would. You stay in bed for three days straight, blaming it on a cold, until Jean shows up at your door to drag you back into the sunlight.

You don’t feel worthy to be seen by the sun.

She takes you on a walk through Spingvale and you sit in front of the lake. You feel embarrassed, your hands folding on top of each other.

“We have to talk about what happened.”

You don’t look at Jean. Your shoulders tremble and you lean in closer to your knees. “I’ve been trying to push...it...away for so long,” You start. Your voice is a hushed whisper and you hardly recognize it. “But it’s like there’s this flashing light that keeps reminding me.”

“It’s because it’s who you are.”

“That’s the problem.”

Jean is quiet for a moment before reaching over and placing her hand over yours.

“My parents told me growing up that love was between a man and a woman and that Lord Barbatos would punish the souls who didn’t obey that. I don’t...don’t want to get punished, Jean.”

Your hands are shaking. Jean rubs your thumb, “Lord Barbatos would never punish anyone for being in love.” You feel shameful again. “But you don’t love Amber.”

You didn’t. You truly didn’t. In fact, you had forgotten about her during your depressive episode. You felt horrible - you had hurt so many people just to hide from the truth. Tears well in your eyes again and you don’t know what to do.

“Listen,” Jean says comfortingly. You finally look up to meet her tired eyes - the same eyes from back when you were eighteen. “I’ll talk to Amber for you. I think you owe someone else a visit.”

Without another word, you took off. You hoped Kaeya was around and not on a commission because if you didn’t say what you needed to say now, you never would. Thankfully, you find him sitting at his desk at the Headquarters. You stand in the doorway and clutch at your sleeves, your heart pounding.

In that moment you realized you couldn’t do it alone - you couldn’t be yourself alone.

Without someone guiding you through this, you would fall into old habits and never progress. If you continued to shove your truth far, far away then you would lose Kaeya forever.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Kaeya finally asks. His voice is much kinder than days prior.

“I love you.”

Time freezes and you stare at each other. The words linger in the air but you know there’s no taking them back. Kaeya was expecting another half-assed biblical chant about how you could change him. He was never expecting a love confession.

You realize you’ve been moving closer to Kaeya when his hand reaches out to touch your cheek. He rises from his desk and leans in, pressing his lips to yours ever so slightly. As soon as you taste honey, you feel sparks fly.

You lived in a world of hatred and darkness, waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel to arise. And Kaeya was that light.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin writing #genshin oneshot #kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya x male reader #genshin x reader

[geshertzarmeod]

In Other Lands Character Arcs

(Spoilers Abound)

I’m thinking about how the character arcs of all three main characters from In Other Lands center largely on moving away from what their families expected of them, even as each of them doesn’t necessarily think moving away from that is possible. And how it’s their relationships with each other that help them move in the directions they actually want to move in, and believe in their abilities to forge their own paths and lead fulfilling lives. Even if it’s not what their parents or home communities think a fulfilling life entails. This culminates in their refusal (along with Golden) at the end of the book, to let anyone else influence them when it comes to deciding where to be stationed. They’re ready to choose their own paths, together.

There’s something deeply appealing to me about this as a queer person, even as queerness (as defined by orientation or gender) is not actually a central factor in the shifting of each character’s relationship with their families. Actually, the character who comes closest to that is Serene, who is presumedly straight, but whose pushback against the rigid gendered expectations of her society so challenge her community that she and Golden are essentially banished at least for a time. This is only tangentially queer, I’d say, because she does this not for herself, as she seems to proudly fit & identify with elven womanhood, but recognizes the false limiting of manhood within her society and fights fiercely for Luke, Elliot, and eventually Golden, who I’d say is GNC for sure. For Luke, it’s not his being gay but his being monogamous and waiting longer than they expected (though he’s like, still 17!!! that’s still young!!!) to become sexually or romantically active that is off-putting to his family. For Elliot, his father is shocked not to see him with a man, but to see him happy (cue my tears). 

I was just thinking this after reading Girl, Serpent, Thorn especially, but I really love when queer books parallel queer narratives of shame and struggle and difference and growing pains, with queer characters, but about issues unrelated to their being queer (especially when they’re about magical/fantasy elements). Then we get to relate to queer characters and see them process a lot of the feelings we have experienced, but also get to see them be loved and value and supported unconditionally in their queerness. Anyway, for an individual analysis:

Luke Sunborn

First, because I know a lot of people might not have read it, I’m going to quote Luke’s perspective from Wings In The Morning:

There were reasons Luke hadn’t kissed anybody. The Sunborns, as a family, loved life and loved love, and treated it as a game. It was fine for them: it worked for them.

Luke had always known that a riot of brightness and different loves and leaving someone laughing was beyond him. He wanted kindness and steadiness: he did not want someone who would leave. He wanted love that would last. (location 2527 in my kindle book, I can’t tell what page)

Luke, the Sunborn champion, expected to excel in battle, and love (read: have sex) freely and easily and non-monogamously, becoming an avid reader because of Elliot - something his father is shocked by and a little ashamed of. Learning Elvish because of both of them. Breaking border camp rules, threatening superior officers, to protect Elliot, and to support Serene, even as he continually complains about it and, on paper, would always argue that those choices are Not Okay and Very Bad. Luke, whose bashful shyness around his crushes, whose concern over his first kiss, whose choice of Elliot as a partner, is incomprehensible to his family, snapping, “I don’t want anyone else,” at the elves. He’s chosen Elliot, even as Elliot still doesn’t at all believe it at that point, and he’s happy with that decision. Elliot’s his choice, and only Elliot. Notorious Sunborn sexual voracity be damned.

Luke’s journey is also largely about him working through his external, and later internalized, biases against magical creatures. It’s pretty clearly an analog to xenophobia, and Luke expresses more disgust, disdain, or fear, the more different a culture is from the one he grew up in. This obviously becomes internalized against himself, when he realizes he is half-harpy. He literally represses his wings from coming out, he sees harpies as monsters and includes himself within this. It’s awful, and it’s sad, and it’s a mixture of Elliot’s meticulous research and adamant arguments that harpies are people, and that Luke isn’t a monster at all (and neither are harpies and other non-human creatures), and Serene’s calm acceptance of him, that helps him move through this. 

This xenophobia, although clearly ingrained since childhood, don’t seem to be coming primarily from his family (certainly not from his mother) but from the culture of the borderguard in general. To me, it is implied that his father might at least casually buy into a lot of this, although he would never extend it to his son. It also is an interesting dynamic as related to the other two’s relationships with family, because Luke coming to love and accept himself, and to open his mind about non-human creatures, is actually him coming closer to his mother, rather than moving away. In my view, a part of why he bought in so clearly to this prejudice coming from the general bordercamp culture is because he was pushing away from his parents in the first place - he saw his parents being so wild and free in a way he knew he could never be that he pushed himself into the opposite side, into “reason” and restraint and conservatism. What he needed to learn was how to hold his more “traditional” wants and needs (although like, he’s kind of wrong about that. Elliott Schafer is not the traditional kind quiet love he’s imagining, and he didn’t want that anyway) while still celebrating all of the different approaches and cultures and loves out there, and that’s what he’s learning alongside Elliot and Serene. And he does this partially because Elliot’s love for him as a half-harpy is, according to his previous beliefs, just as wild and out there as his mother’s affair with his biological father, or all of Elliot’s flirting with various magical creatures. And as he accepts Elliot’s love, he accepts that too.

Serene-Heart-In-The-Chaos-of-Battle

From the first moment we meet Serene we know she ran away from home to join the border camp. She’s chosen to join the humans, to fight alongside men, to learn about the borderlands from a human perspective and use that to create an alliance and to create peace. She enters a world where she is looked down on, where she is sexualized and punished for trying to swim shirtless, and has to fight hard to take the classes she wants and have the opportunity to prove herself as she wishes. Instead of deciding her parents and community were right and going back to the elves, she digs her heels in and with Elliot and Luke’s help, fights back, fights to excel at the border camp and make things different and better, and prove her detractors wrong. 

Not only that, but she learns to respect men in a way she was not raised to do, learns to treat men as equals and partners, always defending both Elliot and Luke when her community disrespects them. This prepares her for her relationship with Golden (although Elliot still helps her along a lot, especially with their written correspondence) and ends in her and Golden essentially eloping after Golden ran away to fight alongside her. It’s also important that she accepts Golden fighting alongside her. That was not at all a given, especially as even towards the middle of the book, she seems to be thinking of human men as capable of fighting and strength and other “womanly” qualities, but not necessarily believing the same of elven men. She’s chosen a nontraditional path and a GNC partner in Golden, and for the time being, her closest family is not her blood but her beautiful boyfriend, her swordsister, and her loved and loving best friend Elliot.

Elliot Schafer

Last but the opposite of least is Elliot. What Elliot learned from his family is that he will come to nothing, that he will be forgotten, and that he will not be loved. I am so angry on this child’s behalf, for the ways he was neglected not only by his parents but by everyone before Serene. The ways his father had no interest in him because all he wanted was Elliot’s mother back (and I love Elliot’s observation that even if his mother did come back, his father wouldn’t know what to do, and would not be happy). The way his teacher literally accepted a small bribe to just...... leave him at the entrance to the borderlands, and none of the students cared. The way his mother not only left when he was a child but knew who he was the second she saw or even heard about him at the bordercamp, and never bothered to tell him, or show any interest in him whatsoever.Elliot has been taught, over and over again, that he is unwanted and uncared for. That he has to go it alone, and fill his own needs.

Elliot learns to respect Commander Woodsinger and to know that while she doesn’t necessarily love him, she knows him, and appreciates who and what he is, and sees value and strength in it. She, unlike his previous teachers and school professionals, understands him, and likes him, and values him. She’s not warm, but she’s a positive presence in his life, and part of him learning to believe he has value just as he is, and not just because he spitefully decided it to go against what everyone else has told him, but because it’s actually true.

He didn’t want his parents and his peers and the adults who have let him down to be right about this, so he does dream of being loved back. But he shows himself fully prepared to be the one who loves more in relationships, especially with Serene. He’s ready, at first, to take all she’ll give him, and revel in each part of it, even if it doesn’t match up to his love for her. It’s not until the moment he turns down Serene’s final advance (when she’s clearly settling for him) that he realizes how much he wants to be chosen first. And he believes that’s possible, and worth waiting for (and that in the meantime, he will help Serene up and help her find what she truly wants too).

Elliot knows Serene loves him. She shows him he deserves love, and in his devotion to her, Elliot begins to excel and challenge himself and learn to see his brand of obnoxiousness as something that might not be everyone’s taste but isn’t inherently bad. He trusts Serene to love him, at least as a friend, but he doesn’t trust that Luke will, because Luke reminds him of all of the kids who hurt him in the past.

And that’s why the slowest arc of this whole book is probably Elliot realizing that Luke.... actually likes him. Actually wants to be around him, and enjoys his presence, and even like-likes him - loves him even. It just can’t compute for him. And so we get basically an unreliable narration for most of the book regarding Luke. Elliot’s “aha” moment about Luke rewrites years of his life, shifting his understanding of so much of their lives together. And it solidifies Elliot’s discovery that he can be loved exactly as he is, obnoxious and annoying and all. He’s found people who love him for it, and they’ve chosen him, and they’re going to stick around.

#In Other Lands #Sarah Rees Brennan #Wings in the Morning #sunbrat #Elliot Schafer #Luke Sunborn #IOL #Serene-Heart-In-The-Chaos-Of-Battle #lgbtq books #books #lgbt books #queer books #ps at the time of me posting this #both the anthology that wings in the morning is from #and in other lands itself #are $2.99 on kindle in the US! #miri reads in other lands #long post #this was in my drafts for more than a month #original content

[passivenovember]

Try as We Might.

Harringrove April, Day Eighteen : Heatwave.

--

Billy’s grandpa taught him how to fight after the first time Neil hit hard enough to bruise.

It felt like a betrayal. 

He was still too young, then, to know that he’d be able to land a few punches of his own someday. When he grew tired of shouldering the brunt of things he couldn’t possibly carry. 

Grandpa Milton said it wasn’t Billy’s fault. Men grow restless in the heat. Bad men take detours toward violence when all the ice has gone from the bucket.

Pistol at the ready.

Billy had to decide if he wanted to be holding the gun or looking down a steel barrel.

Those were the words of a man born in a little town just west of the Missouri River. Spit between wads of tobacco, that smelled always of mint Julep, into the muggy air between them.

Bad men grow restless in the heat.

That was the truth. 

Written into history on stones carried down the mountain by every woman in his family tree. Grandpa Milton wasn’t a bad man. 

Rough around the edges. Hard in the middle, with things Billy could never wrestle free, and Billy wasn’t a bad man. 

He wasn’t like his father. 

Wasn’t restless. Wasn’t cruel.

But with that first push, his fists held in front of him, dodging the swing of a red punching bag as his knuckles kissed leather in a way that didn’t sting.

it was impossible to recognize the difference.

--

Joey is clutching a pair of Max’s leather gloves to his face when his head rounds the corner onto Holbrook street 

All Billy can see is red.

Sheets of it, covering bronzed, delicate skin where it hasn’t soaked through his tee-shirt.

Joey’s left hand slips on the worn, tattered handle of his bike. 

“Oh my god.” Steve drops the garden sheers, rushing to meet their nephew at the end of the driveway before Billy can register the movement. His hands are everywhere, prodding gently at Joey’s forehead, gingerly removing the wad of leather from his nose until.

Blood starts pouring down his chin.

Somewhere on the front steps Dawn is crying big, wet crocodile tears that could make flowers grow if she knew the way. 

Billy tells her to go inside. 

She doesn’t listen.

She takes his hand, instead, leading Billy down the scorching pavement toward something that feels cosmic. Life changing, in the crackling set of Joey’s shoulders when Steve says, “I don’t think it’s broken.”

His eyes are bright. 

Open flame against something uncontrolled. Burning where only Billy can see. He notices Joey’s knuckles. Cracked and bruised and hurting like hell by now, if memory serves.

He clicks his teeth. “What happened, kid?”

“Nothing.”

Steve wipes the blood on his pants, clearly in emergency mode. “It’s not nothing, you need ice and a fresh towel for that thing before the swelling gets too bad.”

“I’ll go get the first aid kit.” Dawn says. Sounding so.

Old.

Mature.

That Billy does a double take when she and Steve disappear into the house together, moving like the summer sun has really set everything ablaze. 

Like they’re running out of time.

Joey hasn’t stopped moving. Pacing up and down the mouth of the driveway, vans scraping over red-hot cement like a poker in fresh coals. A caged animal biding its time. 

Billy gestures to the front porch. “Want some lemonade?”

Joey doesn’t respond. 

“You know. If you wanna land a good punch, you gotta square your wrist.” Billy says, lighting a cigarette just to bide his own time, until. 

The kid cracks open. Spills the beans.

Joey turns on him, confused. “What?”

“Your wrist. Good hit’s all in those three bones. Leave it flopping around and you’ll hurt yourself pretty badly.”

“How do you know I--”

Billy looks at Joey’s hands, skin already turning dark blue from the fight. Ice cubes in a river. 

He raises his eyebrows. “Know a thing or two about taking hits.”

Joey snorts. “You own a ceramics shop.”

“So?”

“So, potters don’t fight, the fucking.” Joey moves the air in front of him, exasperated. “Preach abstinence. Healthy coping and talking things through. Y’know, violence doesn’t solve anything.”

It’s Billy’s turn to snort. “Yeah, fuck that.” He takes a pull from his cigarette, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I’m a bit of a goody-two-shoes now that I got a husband and a kid. A house and shit that I. Care about, but. Wasn’t always that way.”

He turns, meandering to the front porch.

Billy doesn’t have to look to know Joey is scrambling after him. 

“Mom said you used to be an asshole.”

“I was.”

“She said you didn’t used to be someone people wanted to know. Or mess with.” Joey sits on the front step, watching Billy out of the corner of his eye. “How come?”

Billy likes to imagine things as they are now, likes to pretend all the shit that happened before. Monsters and black rot and worlds inside this one--likes to pretend none of that existed. 

It was a bad dream. 

A side effect. Punishment, for who Billy was. Who he had to be if he wanted to survive. 

He thinks Joey is a little bit like that. Trying to get past his own skin, so.

“Did what I had to do.” 

Joey frowns. “What’s that mean?”

Billy shrugs. “To protect myself. From others, or protect them from me.” He takes another pull from his cigarette. “I used to be weak, y’know. Easy pickings because I was different than other kids my age.”

“Because you were gay?”

And. 

“Yeah.” Billy says softly. “Except I didn’t know it at the time, so when people said those things and called me shit and punched my fucking retainer down my throat for having a crush on Frankie Daimio, my only choice was to fight back.”

Joey nods. “I understand. The kids at school, they.”

Billy turns to look at him, nodding. 

It’s okay. 

Joey takes a deep breath. Clears his throat. “They think I’m weird.”

“How come?”

“Lots of things.” Joey picks at the frayed hem of his shorts, voice trembling. “Who my mom and dad are. The way my hair looks. The kinds of music I listen to and the clothes I wear and the fact that my best friend is a girl two years younger than me who puts dead animals on people’s cars when they call me a fa--”

“They’re jealous.” Billy says. Plain and simple. “And even if you are. That word. You’re cooler than I was when I was your age.”

Joey looks at him, eyes sparkling. “Will you teach me how to fight?”

Billy gears up to say a million things.

No, it’s not responsible. No, Uncle Steve will throw a fit. No, your mom will cut my balls off and toss me into the river. No, I don’t run like that anymore--

But as Joey watches him, tears burning hot in the apple of his eyes, Billy doesn’t really have a choice.

“Alright, Kid.” He says, defeated. “I taught Dawn to look after herself, I can teach you.”

#harringrove #harringrove april #tw: bullying #tw: violence #Billy would give the best lessons on self defense #I know we've analyzed the kitchen fight to DEATH #but I'm always so blown away by the skill he shows #using his surroundings to his advantage and fighting dirty because you don't fight to play fair #you fight to win #my dad taught me how to punch when I was a kid #I've never had to use that knowledge #but it's good to know how to protect yourself

[theshedding]

What Haiti's past tells us about the meaning of Resistance & “Revolution”

One of the realities of American education (public or private) is that the already abbreviated history of Black people in the United States is completely non-intersectional and without recognition of the larger international African diaspora with respect to (1) Black liberation or (2) American and New-world European colonial history. For instance, it is not commonly recognized that proportionally-most Black people from Africa who arrived in the “New World” due to the Atlantic Slave Trade did not live in North America but in the Caribbean, South and Central America. That is to say, if you were enslaved (or newly freed) outside of Africa at any point from the 16th through late 19th century outside of Africa, you would’ve had a one in three (or four) chance of living in the United States. Ask your average Black person on the street about this and it’s news. Ask your average non-Black person on the street about this and it’s even more surprising news. And why wouldn’t it be? Due to highly racialized educational systems, steadfast commitment to Black marginalization, indifference and/or Black & indigenous marginalization, most Americans who don’t actively seek this information have very limited knowledge about critical historical events. The American Revolution and details are reduced to incoherent romanticized narratives about English tea and “tyranny”. The Civil War is also vague and obtuse in its descriptions of Southern animus and economics. “Reconstruction” is a word that, admittedly, I did not learn (or had forgotten about) until an adult...and as a young person I fancied myself more knowledgeable than most about Black History through extra-curricular history lessons, elders, activities and educated parents. Even I was unaware of the sequence of Black history, resistance and triumph on critical historical events in Black American history.

Fast forward to the 2016 Presidential Election, the word “Revolution” and phrase “We need a Revolution!” was flagrantly thrown around and abused in public discourse by young (and older) people who undoubtedly grew up with the same biased and negligent public educational system I had grown up with and (in many cases) profoundly less extra-curricular historical exposure and education. As a culture, we would then start to see real gains in the #BLM movement and the zeitgeist towards radical change and structural reforms from race to finance and public safety. I was quite happy to participate in the resurgence of a resistance movement, especially one centering itself around issues of Black liberation. It’s what I’ve been around most of my life. What I wasn’t comfortable with however, was the use of the term “revolution” to describe it. At least not by White people (there’s a reason for that) and/or by younger people (of any color/ethnicity) who also undoubtedly had been steeped in the vapid romanticism of ‘revolutionary’ history taught to us by our primary and secondary US educational indoctrinations. 

I have been in formal activism and education personally 30+ years now. Make no mistake, I absolutely support of “change” in our society, particularly towards social justice and Black liberation. And I have no wish to exclude White people or any other ethnicity from being enthusiastic activists or communicators of social/economic/political justice. That’s not my point. What my case is however, is that I’ve always been uncomfortable with the careless use of the term “revolution” in our national political conversations about race, justice, history and radical change. Particularly if that term is being appropriated for something other than racial equality of Black or indigenous people in this country. Historically, “revolution” has been inextricably tied to some aspect of Black resistance in the new world. To update the term in a way that erases or obfuscates deep racial inequities makes me uncomfortable in its lack of this historical context. Aside from that appropriative term however, the use of the sub-category or phraseology “radical change” in connection with “revolution” is problematic for its own reasons; ‘radical change’ and ‘radical ideas’ have become erroneously conflated terms in this way. Historically speaking, radical ideas have always endured much longer than the actual moment of revolution and change itself. In my lifetime there have been a number of “radical” changes; cigarette use and public smoking, seatbelts, recycling, eco fuels, Black people being on television and not talking “jive”, Gay/Bi and Trans people simply existing while not living a sad, diseased-ridden and isolated life, smoking weed and pre-existing conditions in health care are all things which were massive structural changes in society that took lifetimes to negotiate, deconstruct and implement. The idea came way before the actual change. And every one of those ideas were not radically “changed” in any one moment or by any one person. Instead those changes represented a patchwork of efforts by nameless, thankless individuals, organizations and multiple leaders whose work at times overlapped in various ways. Many of whom died or had to leave their advocacy before their desired change could be realized. Simply saying “radical change” and/or conflating change with charismatic leaders, “revolution” and politicians without acknowledging radical ideas, radical people (plural) and radical efforts over long stretches of time is a betrayal of history, the people working to change and correct it and those who have worked to correct it, for our sake.

On this day, January 1st, 2021, the 217th anniversary of the dissolution of Saint Domingue and the beginning of Haiti (Áyitì), the very first ever Black republic in the European/Western colonial world, named in honor of-and deference to-the indigenous Arawak/Taino “Indians” of the Caribbean, the process of what change really looks like is as profound as it ever was. Most of us have not studied this history in any appreciable detail-Black people included. Many might be surprised to know that Haitians came to Philadelphia, Charleston (S.C.) and New Orleans as a direct result of what happened in the late 18th and early 19th century and that there are Black and White Americans living there right now with traceable ancestry to this Caribbean island and the revolution that occurred there (until earlier this year I wouldn’t have known that either). Despite what Kanye West said, Black people did not ‘choose’ inferiority, slavery and colonial oppression. In fact, they resisted it and plotted revolution from the moment they boarded ships in West Africa. Especially in places like Haiti where many of the Africans arriving were literally soldiers, prisoners of wars and being replenished every 5-7 years because of the high death and production rates. There were hundreds of rebellions and revolts of enslaved Africans in the New world during the Atlantic Slave Trade; Haiti’s is just one of many. But Haiti’s is the largest, sustained revolt, with the most cultural, political and economic implications for its White, Black/African & African descended people -and- as people living in a “new” world trying to reconcile what it means to live together in a land post-slavery, post-European colonialism. To this day its people are a living testament to how difficult that work of Anti-Black resistance is in a global economy built around the presumption and instance of Black inferiority. The “project” of this revolution is yet unfinished.

Therefore in 2021, anyone studying, protesting, manifesting and politically agitating against our current socio-economic-political structures in America needs to study the Haitian Revolution in as much detail as possible. It is one of the biggest examples of how intricate, dynamic, long-suffering and difficult it is to actually perform “radical change”. During the pandemic I began (re) introducing myself to this subject by reading books, watching documentaries and listening to lectures outlining the layers of narrative involved in what would be come the Haitian Revolution; Macandal, the three “Commissions”, the Tricolor Commission, “Declaration of the Rights of Man”, the determinative links of the French Revolution, “Code Noir”, André Rigoud, British blockades, Spanish regiments, the “Coloureds”, returns to the plantations for Africans only, not “Blacks”(e.g. caste systems), trade embargos, Toussaint, Dessalines, etc....all confirming what was already apparent: change is hard, long and often takes generations.

If you are currently fighting for something, or against it, know that not one person or one act can or will likely “radically” change the reality. A “revolution” is a term not to be used lightly. When we de-romanticize it and “dig” into it we can begin to see more clearly how ugly and non-inevitable it’s results truly are. History tells us so-and we can learn from this history in a way that informs our present-day activism and fight towards justice of any kind, for any person, any ethnicity. Commit yourself and learn from those who have done it before you and recognize that the past will always be relevant to the present in resistance and change. 

Below are some great resources start to learning more on the Haitian Revolution👇🏿:

“Revolutions” (Apple Podcast, a immensely detailed lecture series!) https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/revolutions/id703889772?i=1000358493623 PBS, “The Black Messiah: Macandal” https://youtu.be/cHIEYx2_C9Q “Haiti and the Atlantic World Reborn (New York Historical Society)” https://youtu.be/dpbLMkAJFtE “Noam Chomsky, Modern-Historical Political Commentary” https://youtu.be/e1JWr03P9W8 “Haiti Journal, 100th Anniversary of US Occupation” https://youtu.be/pILrdFJ683M

Happy New Year, Happy Haitian Independence Day and most importantly, Happy learning!!! 🤩🥂

#Haiti #Haitian Independence day #Macandal #Toussaint #L'overture #French Revolution #ayiti #Caribbean #afrocaribbean #caribbeanamerican #frenchcaribbean #American History #Revolution #Resistance #Activism #blm #blm protests #Haitian Occupation #noam chomsky #New York Historical Society #Documentary #revolutions podcast #atlantic slave trade #West Africa #Pearl of the Caribbean #saint domingue #Pirates #African Diaspora #Slavery #Black Republic

[sweatersexual]

just some black ink on some blue lines (and a shadow you won’t recognize)

Read on AO3

Stan wished he knew what was going through Ford’s mind when he’d packed this box and shoved it in a closet. When they were kids, they’d insisted to their mother on cleaning days that the piles of the stuff in their room were organized, they had a system. Ford probably still had one, but Stan was no longer privy to it. He’d probably be annoyed with Stan for messing it up if - when - he got back.

But if Stan was going to turn this room into a gift shop, this closet would have to be cleared out. So he dug through the motley collection of vinyl records, books, part of a research paper, a jar of molasses, and a Cubic’s Cube, placing most of them in the pile of Ford’s things to be packed away and eventually returned to him. The book on Fifth-Dimensional Calculus, though, that might be helpful with the portal.

Two loose sheets of paper fell out as he flipped through the book. A letter, but not addressed to anyone. Still, Stan had spent enough time bent over that journal to know Ford’s handwriting back to front.

I’ve fallen in love with him, the letter read. I never imagined I could fall in love, let alone with a hog farmer from Tennessee, but he’s brilliant and charming and something electric runs through me every time we touch.

The confirmation that Ford was gay after all these years was hardly a surprise to Stan. He’d suspected Ford’s sexuality for about as long as he’d questioned his own. But Stan could never imagine writing anything so sappy about a guy he himself was into. Stan snorted as he continued reading.

I know you would tease me if I told you this in person. That’s only one of the many, many reasons I can never send this letter. But I feel like I have to tell someone about this or I’ll burst. Anyone else would think I was some kind of pervert. But somehow, I think you would understand.

I know we never talked about this, back when we still talked. We both knew how our father felt about men loving other men . . .

This letter was written to Stan. Ford had wanted to tell someone he was in love, and he had thought of Stan, even though they weren’t talking to each other. Ford must have picked up on Stan being bisexual in some way and known that it would have been safe to come out to him, if circumstances were different.

Well, he’d have been safe from homophobia. Safe from the usual brotherly mockery was a different story.

We both knew how our father felt about men loving other men, and his disapproval hung like a specter over everything we did. I know some psychologists would blame his overbearing nature for my current inclinations . . .

Overbearing nature, yeah, that was putting it lightly. “He’s an asshole,” Stan muttered to himself.

. . . but I can’t help but feel that if an overbearing father makes one queer, there would be a lot more queer people in the world. And psychology is a very inexact science anyway.

Stan had already figured, but it was nice to have someone as smart as Ford say that at least one of the theories people put out about why people weren’t straight was bogus. It didn’t matter why he or Ford loved men, because they weren’t about to change, and they weren’t hurting anybody. The sooner more people realized that, the better.

I’ve given up on analyzing why I feel the way I do about F. The fact that we have so much in common probably has something to do with it, but we didn’t always get along so well. When we first met a few years ago, I found his unique blend of hick and hippie mannerisms very off-putting. He thought me stuffy and intractable. Still, we managed to stand living together long enough to become close friends, and now, something more romantic in nature as well.

A few weeks ago, he insisted we take a break from studying. We drove out to the middle of nowhere and stargazed, something we’ve done several times before. Talking about space excites our imaginations. It has sparked many a conversation about the future, not just our own hopefully bright ones, but that of the world and humanity at large. This time, however, we got on the subject of how grateful we were to have each other in our lives. I’m a loner by nature, as you know, so connecting with anyone as well as I do with F is rare and precious. No sooner were the words out of my mouth than his lips were on mine, and I was reciprocating wholeheartedly.

When the kiss broke, he looked at me questioningly, worried, I think, that either of us would come to our senses and acknowledge the enormity of what we had just done. Instead I simply kissed him back. We’ve shared so many since then, and the close quarters of our dorm have proven too enticing to get schoolwork done without distractions. I’ve had to relocate to the library several times in order to get any real studying done.

That nerd. Of course his main concern about getting a boyfriend was how it would cut into his study time.

Despite how busy we are, we’ve still found time for things like walks around campus or daringly holding hands in the back of a dark movie theater. But mostly we’ve spent an increasing amount of time in each other’s arms back in our dorm. We made love last night. I’ll spare you the details, but I’ll have you know he’s just as considerate and patient in bed as he is anywhere else. Perhaps even more so.

Oh come on. “Considerate and patient?” That’s how you’d describe your waiter, not your lover. Had the sex not been that good? Not that Stan wanted to know the details, Ford had been right about that, but sheesh, Stan expected something more spicy than “considerate and patient.”

I can’t believe I just put that down on paper. Thank goodness you’ll never read this, you’d say I’m such a sap. I can’t help it, I’m in love and the only one I can talk to about it is the object of my affections. And as much as I do love talking to him about us, it would be nice, just for once, for someone else to know how happy I am, and why.

Yeah, Stan had been there before, when he’d dated guys who weren’t out. It sucked, not being able to introduce him to your friends, having to worry about who was watching when you so much as held his hand. So much of what was normal for couples just couldn’t be for you.

But sadly, disappointment is just as much a part of life as love is. You taught me that.

Stan winced. Ford had basically just called him a disappointment. Stan had known their father had felt that way about him, and Ford probably did too, but damn. Seeing it in writing like that still hurt.

Even F may leave me someday. As lovestruck as I am, I can still see the obstacles ahead of us clearly. I try not to let it taint my time with him now, much in the same way I still look back on our childhood fondly, even though it ended so badly.

I still keep that photo of us on the Stan-o-War, you know. F has seen it. He thinks we should talk to each other. I have no idea how I would even start. And sending this letter is still very much out of the question. Ma thinks you moved from the last address you gave her anyway. I would tell you to call her, but that would involve talking to you.

See you never,

Ford

Stan turned the letter over and sighed. Disappointment or not, at least Ford didn’t completely hate him. You didn’t write a letter like that to someone you hated. You didn’t keep a picture to show your boyfriend. You didn’t fondly reminisce on old memories. It sounded like Ford had considered reconciliation as a possibility, but not one he knew how to pursue. Stan could understand that. He had felt the same way.

Stan wondered if he had enough information to look up this F guy. Surely it wouldn’t be hard to track down a Backupsmore alumnus who’d been a hog farmer from Tennessee and had the first initial F. Maybe he was the owner of the smaller sized clothes Stan had found lying around the house, or of the vinyl records that didn’t seem to fit Ford’s music taste. Or maybe Ford had moved on from his college sweetheart and they belonged to someone else.

No, looking up F was a bad idea. Either he’d figure out Stan was impersonating his brother and ruin everything Stan was working for, or he’d believe Stan was Ford and Stan would have to pretend they had romantic history. Neither option was worth the hassle.

Stan ended up keeping the letter down in the basement with his brother’s journal. Whenever Stan reread it, he felt every minute of the decade plus he and Ford had spent growing apart. In another life, could they have shared those moments together? Could they have come out to each other in person? There was a whole relationship as adults they could have had, and maybe it was still a possibility.

Stan just needed to get that portal up and running.

#gravity falls #stan pines #ford pines #fiddauthor #fiddleford mcgucket #fanfic #otp: not just research partners #1600 words

[hoplesslylovin]

I love the crows so much I could talk about them all day. Every character is well developed and so utterly human, they were not written to be perfect but dumbass teens trynna get money and not die. It’s a perfect mix of seriousness and humor

Every relationship is 1000/10. Kaz andJesper relationship, with Kaz calling Jesper Jordie and Jesper asking who’s that and Kaz saying “ someone i didn’t wanna lose” skfjkjfhkh. Jesper willingness to do anything for kaz bc he has a crush(before wylan) and admires Kaz so much.

Matthias and Inej subtle bonding over religion and making righteousness decisions.

Nina and Inej having a beautiful relationship and with the best girl talks. The scene where Inej holds Nina’s face and says “I owe you a life debt” shows the beauty of friendship and will never be topped by any other line. Also most novels fail to have this bc “the main character can be not like other girls🙄”

Kaz helping Wylan overcome his insecurities and realize his dad ain’t shit and basically changing the will so Wylan can get all the money.

Jesper and Inej calling each other family and yet Inej still being able to forgive automatically but also holding Jesper accountable when he fucks up.The bonding in the scene where they talk about they love kaz and also admitting it’s exhausting trying to keep up with him

This is just friendships like most series that are under 3 books never really develop friendship and mostly focus on relationship or the plot and this queen Leigh wrote the perfect plot the perfect friendships and the perfect relationships in two books?!?! I love it

Now let’s talk about relationships Kaz and Inej being absolute perfection with Leigh recognizing their combined trauma and not just ignoring it so they can kiss is beautiful. Knej knowing her self worth and not sticking around for Kaz even though they both loves each other bc he’s not ready for a relationship and she has her own life is amazing.Kaz also realizing that he can’t give her what she deserve and instead of being a grumpy/petty/shitty person like most male leads when realizing the female lead deserves better,!buys inej a boat to travel around the world, finds her parents for her and basically promising to work on himself while she is gone achieving her dreams is truly iconic. Also Inej knowing that Kaz will always be a “monster” and saying that Ketterdam needs a monster to clean away its filth and that while i’m away at sea fighting slavers you will help me by destroying companies that imploy slavers.-like they both don’t try to change the other person ideas/ambition but work together

Next Nina and Matthias relationship is enemies to lovers done right. Firstly the story of how they met is a slighly cliche shipwreck meeting, but is it the best one i’ve ever read?? Yes it is!! Like the slow development of Matthias at first always comparing her to fjerden women to realizing that Nina may not be “a traditional fjerdan women” but what he needed to see his discriminatory ways. Nina also taking zero bullshit and not babying him but just straight calling him out when he says something wrong.Matthias finally realizing that he was brainwashed without Nina really taking him step by step and more like Nina explaining it to him once and letting him figure out himself. Matthias not accepting only Nina but all grisha yet still not giving up his religion and pride of his country to be with Nina but recognizing that it wasn’t perfect and needs a lot of improvements. Nina also not changing any part of herself and making him have her as she is or leave

Lastly wesper (Wylan and Jesper) which is just amazing. Leigh not making the main focus of the relationship being tht their gay but just focusing on the development and chemistry between them. They in the middle of a dangerous life threatening mission and Jesper says sum shit like “I wish it was this easy to get girls” and Wylan goes” just girls? “and Jesper is “like no not just girls” and that’s it. Jesper and Wylan have a soft friends to lovers with a lot of witty one liners. They both talk to each other about their insecurities like Wylan knowing when Jesper is filled with too much energy and helping calm down, they had their first kiss like this :) and Jesper telling Wylan that he isn’t stupid and it’s fine he can’t read bc he so talented in other ways.

Also the character development!! firstly Jesper being black(darkskin)and bi. While being a main character with flaws. Jesper is extremely loyal and funny yet he also fucks up bc he human and make mistakes. Jesper has a gambling addiction and his gambling addiction wasn’t tried to be justified with an excuse or a reason but realistically described as some thing he just can’t bring himself to stop. He’s written so well, we get to see him struggle with his self esteem and his restlessness, but we get to see him grow and realize that he can’t be stuck in what he did in the past but make sure he won’t do it again and finding a positive outlet instead of gambling. Jesper also hating and hiding that he is grisha bc his dad had drilled into him tht his powers were dangerous and bc his mother had died from using her powers too much.Yet by the end of book he still hides his power but learns to accept it and saying maybe in the future he will learn how to use it bc Wylan helped him realize that he shouldn’t hate anything about himself and learn to embrace it, but also did not push Jesper very hard and let Jesper figure it out himself

Nina being a tall plus sized powerful asf women and still being repeatedly described as beautiful and charming in the book.This may seem like a simple thing but most books just write plus sized people as the “token fat friend” and make the character whole personality be about their weight. Nina doesn’t care for her weight. she is bold and confident. She knows that she is gorgeous and strong and flaunts it. Nina loves her country and struggle with trying to do what’s best for it bc at the end of the day she will put ravka first. Also Nina’s struggle with jurda parem is written really well in a way that shows clearly how much she struggles with the addiction and the shame she feels on how she acted yet how she can’t help herself. After she finally got over jurda parem withdrawals she has new powers that leave her feeling lost bc this wasn’t who she was before yet with Matthias help and her own sheer stubbornness she gets the hang of her powers and accepts that it still very miraculous evn if it connected to death

Inej is honestly a amazing character. She has very strong moral views and struggles with religion esp with the idea that she doesn’t know if she will be forgiven for all the lives she took as the wraith, yet she doesn’t regret what she’s done bc it allowed her to be free.Inej after getting free from Tante Heleen would rather die and then ever be hold in a cage again. We see this when she almost stabs herself in the heart after being cornered. Also we learn that after being freed she could barely even touch other people or even walk in front of Tante Heleen building to see her growing and overcoming her trauma in a realistic way that it’s still there but she doesn’t allow it to control her life. She voluntarily wears Tante Heleen silks again for a mission and stole her necklace which symbolizes her stealing her life back in a way. She finds a purpose for her life in the idea of freeing slaves after this mission instead of just waiting for Kaz. I could talk about Inej all day tbh

Honestly where should i begin with Kaz. Kaz is not a righteous man, he’s ruthless,and would do anything for money but keeps his promises yet Kaz sees himself as a villain and doesn’t see the good even if Inej tells him how he helps others in subtle ways. In the beginning Kaz is painted as a evil genius which he is but and then we learn that he was a happy and cheerful child till Jordie died, leaving him with severe trauma and unable to hand skin contact. Kaz also broke his leg in some robbery when he was younger and it never healed correctly yet it was never a problem for him, even tho he is disabled and with a cane everyone is scared of him. Anyway throughout the books Kaz goes from unable to even touch another persons hand and fainting in the wagon to slightly overcoming this with Inej. Kaz wants to be better for Inej and himself bc Inej says she will have him without armor or not at all and Kaz wants to be that person. While by the end of crooked kingdom he can only hold Inej’s hand and he still shook a little, We can still see how much he is trying to overcome his fear. I also love how Leigh did not write that Kaz overcame years and years of trauma for a girl within a few weeks but ends with him doing a only little better but still having a long way to go.

Wylsn being the genius nerd of the group and also having dyslexia. Wylan starts off as a shy runaway whose shitty dad severely impacted their self esteem, and grows to be very confident person who sees that nothing is wrong with being unable to read bc he can still do anything he wants.Wylan kept his dyslexia as his biggest secret bc he is taught that he is useless and worthless bc he can’t read, yet through subtle and amazing advice from Kaz about how you can’t let things hold you back, Jesper’s support and mainly seeing all the things he can do without the need for reading-Wylan slowly realizes his self worth. To the point where he can tell a few people that he can’t read. This causes Wylan to help Jesper with accepting his powers bc Wylan sees the how similarities between how Jesper acts about his power and how he use to act about his dyslexia.

Matthias had the biggest character arc. He went from wanting to kill all grisha to accepting Nina’s very unique death powers before she herself did. Matthias struggles with realizing his old mentors were wrong throughout book 1. The rest of the crew do not waste time explaining or trying to change his beliefs but instead only correcting his words when he says offensive things. Inej also subtly tells him to get his shit together, at first he believes how could everything he ever learn is a lie but after seeing the outcomes of his actions/ druskelle actions. Matthias realizes that it was all lie and finds reasoning and understanding through his experiences with the crows. He after a long process begins to thinks grisha powers are a miracle. Yet even as he slowly see his wrong ways- His first thought for a long time when seeing grisha powers was unnatural in his manipulative father figure Brum’s voice. After a little while he began to correct the voice in his head with own.Matthias finally reached a point where his first thought was miraculous. Leigh wrote this really well bc it shows a person cannot change a mindset drilled into him within a day but takes a process. Throughout all of this he still feels a strong sense of pride in his county but also seeing that his home has many faults and needs improvement and guidance.

i wrote this midnight y’all pls ignore shitty grammar and mistakes

#kanej #six of crows #matthias helvar #nina zenik #wylan van eck #jasper fahey #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #wesper #helnik #crooked kingdom #character analysis #soc #ck #relationship #friendship