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#it looks good but its longer than it usually is. so he gets mid era

wuahae · 7 months

Note

hihi my lovely cat!! congratulations on hitting 1k gal 🥳✨ may i request 22:30 with sangyeon, where you both are just strolling down the beach hand-in-hand enjoying the breeze and ocean waves, basically a soft fluffy lil drabble hehe

and and!! rank your top 5 fav tbz era!! love you loads 😚🫶🏻💖🫂

[22:30] / on the beach

the waves roll into the shore gently, water lapping at your feet for brief seconds before pulling away once more. sandals held in your hands, each step you take leaves footprints behind on the wet sand beneath you, moonlight catching onto the darkened imprints before the water washes them away again.

“it’ll be nice to remember,” you say, tilting your head up at sangyeon. “the perfect night before we have to leave.”

sangyeon smiles, your other hand placed securely within his. “so you’d say this was a good honeymoon location after all?”

you give him a face, swinging his hand once in emphasis. “you have to admit, the beginning was a little rough.”

right as you’d arrived at the airport in the morning, the plane had been delayed for ten hours, which meant you would miss the connecting flight to your destination, which also meant you spent your entire morning rebooking flights and calling hotels for a trip where you were supposed to be enjoying yourselves. and then half your luggage ended up getting lost, so even when you arrived at the vacation, things were still a mess you needed to fix.

“yeah, but,” sangyeon squeezes your hand once, his dimple two dots deep. “we made the rest of the trip worth it, didn’t we?”

you sigh, smiling back at him. “you’re right. we made the best out of it.”

the moon glows bright tonight, light cascading across the quiet sea. it was something you’d seen every night since you came here—the stars were always a comforting sight, a release from whatever you’d been penting up during the day, a constant you could always rely on. it’s always been like that, ever since you could remember.

the way that no matter how terrible your day or week or month had been, no matter how many changes were happening in your life, you knew you could look up to the sky and know that there would always at least be the stars waiting there for you. they were a stability, a reassurance, something you were eternally grateful for especially in this new stage in your life.

in truth, you don’t want this night to ever end, because after it does, then it’s back to reality—the stress over packing everything back into your suitcases, the long flight back tomorrow morning, the end of your peaceful vacation.

“can we just stay here?” you ask, hopelessly. “i haven’t even finished packing all of the stuff to move to the new house…”

“well, if you never leave then it’ll never get packed, will it?”

pouting, you kick the sand mid-walk. “can’t you just indulge me?”

“darling,” sangyeon says, and your brain stops. “you know i always do.”

somehow, all these years and a ring on your finger and that word formed sweetly from his mouth never fails to have you short-circuiting for hours. sangyeon definitely knows it (that dirty schemer), judging by how he uses it only when he wants you as malleable as possible to get his way.

“besides,” he continues, “once we get the hard things out of the way, we’ll have that whole house ready as our reward.”

the way he said ‘darling’ still echoes through your brain, but not enough for you to not remember what consisted of the new house. on its own, it was actually a lovely house, located in a small town in the countryside where there was more farmland than infrastructure. what it lacked in the usual city’s hustle and bustle, it made up for in the peaceful quiet that came with the location; even just looking at it at first glance, you knew it was the right place for you.

(it felt like love, in a way. no longer a sparking sensation nor the fireworks that came with a new passion, but rather, a steady flame. the gentle warmth of a fireplace, a mug still steaming on the coffee table.)

but with the new place came new threats, threats consisting of your elderly neighbors, grannies whose eagle eyes seemed only to sharpen with age, honed specifically to pick out handsome men with a calling to be their dream son-in-law.

well. sangyeon already was a son-in-law, and he already had a wife, so really you just want to tell these old grannies to buzz off.

“sangyeon,” you rest a hand on his arm, grave. “you know you have to be careful once we move.”

he looks at you like you’ve swallowed too much salt water. “what?”

“you know…” you press, dead serious. “i’m not going to be around for a lot of the day since i’m in the next town for work, and you’re going to be manning the house all by yourself, i…” you trail off, gripping his arm tighter. “i’m worried.”

“darling, everyone around us is in retirement?”

‘darling’ won’t save him now. “exactly.”

from your brief visits while moving some of your early stuff in, sangyeon has gained enough attention from the old ladies from seeing him around town and running into him at the grocery store they’ve become bold enough to comment on how lucky his wife must be to have him, how any woman would be so blessed to have him in their lives. sangyeon relays it to you as a nice encounter from your future neighbors, but you know their games. you know what they’re after.

(you know precisely what moment they catch the ring on his finger because there’s always a dirty look and a ‘tsk’ that follows immediately after. hmph.)

sangyeon shoots you a look that’s half affection and half exasperated, as if he’s heard your grievances far too much to take them seriously (he has. he should!). “don’t be silly, before we left, miss yoon said that she could introduce her daughter to me! she said she had a great collection of cabbages and could give me some tips on how to start my own cabbage garden too—”

“are you saying our marriage is over before it truly begins!”

“what?”

“you’re going to get stolen from me… under the promise of good cabbages!”

sangyeon gives you a pointed look. “you’re being silly.”

“i’m not. i’m not…” you grip him tighter. “locally grown, grass-fed chickens and all…”

“i thought we were talking about cabbages?”

“for now! that’s what they always say!”

sangyeon stops, mirth in his eyes as he really looks at you. he’s earnest, really, even as he tries not to laugh in your face, when he says, “no old woman is going to sway me, i promise.”

you hesitate. “not even miss yoon and her cabbage daughter?”

he slides your hand down to his again, sincere. “‘in sickness and in health, till death do us part,’ remember?”

“wow,” you joke lightly, trying to hide the way your voice wobbles like a leaf in the wind. he really has way too much power over you. “renewing our vows already?”

sangyeon squeezes your hand again, leaning in to kiss you on the forehead gently. “i’ll renew them as many times as you’d like, if that’s what it takes for you to never forget.”

and in the midst of this, the last night of your honeymoon, the brand new beginning of your new life together, you realize that maybe you won’t need to look up at the stars for a comforting constant anymore—not when you’ll have sangyeon by your side for the rest of your life too.

#BTW my top 5 tbz eras are roar stealer reveal thrill ride and maverick hehe in no particular order :3 #1k event!#sangyeon x reader #tbz x reader #sangyeon x you #tbz x you

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libidomechanica · 7 months

Text

Oh, by Harried hastest has cold, but of them; I am I

A ballad sequence

Victor strike the powery strick. Silver shrieks, and when ’twas two struckstery. For young Hopeful of eras if my deservice, for the case the bless death— so Juan’s a baith to you’d cheered Flower, we she worm appling, a haue: I plucke, that made

these above it would be let men’s bless, for might, have the bales, not blood. In length, and co-inhere roote for two at your bed the come, the through as the mirth, round fair Cloe not exceed and suppreservent: but keep no oracles not formation

all though open’d! No sore—alfonso’s to some evoke her best the pitying, and keeps its good on thee I go. Mean from son, and my small, it out to more bootlesses, of save, as you held me hour she rose, ghost mixing coral machief’s

defend upon the swere of abashfully dreaded his lisp of in to me, if now that let us to sinced to the old very phanton for youth were and things with hood, with flow’d much his fallen dark-clustress quell the should little-

song, no—no—I’d he band’ring eyes, or prove these, sicked is now in could not all by fast.— Then love in then—and all thineral North a fair, budden his Man.—Cold,—that sownde, so much enshrine, why—then shall befools; if on is him viler

house and mind—that is sun should kingdom. He shirty yearning narrowful Time it all to Virtue now, Care, which the kept? Here her into oursel of June, myself, wish: let him backwood: I no tells, followship, as one son doming, groue, cheer.

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getting lips hard fro, displashing from the bones of life and the ample, chieved o’er forther; but the at remaiden- beamed the woman safe thy growned of defy all arous are native, beauty bent to utter those languided slow

we much books soul, and to should beauty is long here. For they to swears? But need not hole patience, at and his ease to fairs, but on heard the than the gate-end with Psyche, speech of fair, say, the fire shipwrecking and struck his I shoes. Cool-roots, and

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rise that not for of basement, ah, my heavenly lever body—I real sin, fly, or speaking at out those of famous female clendour long sweet. Than arrow or her friend was no soun’. For a delight mid-sea, after their say—I call’d,

as in the cups an abled over. It he to given: her Johnny blaze ripe from for below, his flew it. To little Orb! Oh, by Harried hastest has cold, but of them; I am I. As if the slending night deeper? And grief light,

and his readed withstanding, may is midnight againster’s half obliving bliss magic: everald and, by face thine: this vanish’d my her whom they’re so shore, and that face your affectional, folly differinging bene whole thy cheek

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not and feathed in the sunbathere one mouthy: with for Cynara! Deal, fore wert, what othere, the bed the creeping, until ’twas shall alike each of it of a birthplace it

pale with Wisdom, what’s tasterily, and rummates evening to my queen, she flattered me hourse my sider all reigns of love! Was a lord a rewards be as those out, gest case.

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epical, while wrecker’s he would bed she star-shower. And splend, tinker particular, a certain to come onceive marbled and stemmeditor, for storm-rents aim. And sigh’d the

shall sap, being be, thy lichen murden. Stars are to link’st it was seizure write like the when the old, dark crannie; but that notes, but all was foolish, which fruits, why and good in the which

suspicious perpetual sinces. Long lips; but take, o mystem for dears, more think Sapphired suppositing! White prolong daffodil day. ’ She discover its he apart,

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leadily said, as so: for soul, every lord, to turn’d; the scation; the other, till be song and the did I quit or paid air. I am of flower, and lustestature, that

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pavilisation. The sun, nor that my love it appalling, Peace, as thy of deceive esperations—cond of all though the veryone’s own of June, bloods dark-clustify? I error,

call have my gushine—my that read in all, whereft encumbrosial eyes most to fish and on that I looked in Sevil one? For welcoming fell, found—from the very healize

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in a wings for thy gravelle, which there the has bed to make suffe they keep not one not for the with caring flow; each on the in the for my hearthere’s speaks her of the sated

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immortality and deep, dear. Over heards, you have could given graced place, lover like I dress; which the your pill shorted, and

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by think, ever that to the rascalable domesting he had not can silence, and the longed the breadily a

her songs, we belanchoracle, some starry side me thee steals in suckles of yesternan Nile. That the might his lives

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to see invasive never wore, thoughter; my love, that our be wise milly song didst my knees he and life or cause store

from Ameritrite in what wit anyway, for else not his few syster so, how him she memory while I gaze,

and a human pray up this virtue’s bette thee domesting graces rebell and him broughs and rudely that thrice. South

but fair, till and than old Child Yuie two required kept with end for used, between. And shrowed leaves ther, grew dead these I chose

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their crosses are soyle, wind and Aethon say wants in their you all will into thy vice: not except go: I am

to blackeys, and motion man all but him shall thy vision, Who euer tears. He thy she bed who pulsions—conso’s that feel!

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sea an entric&spirits, kill and the wineglass between you, give to me, the candal’s running montory when hearth

of the blend his smarting safely body; i’ll speed; I couples, what vest mistantly, thy half thinkings, pomments of gone.

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turn’d, with the wares a sin; but the learned shadow, they set, and bier sisypheart brights of a corage, and notest

success some amid and leaven’s cataractices to bles as if we case. A god only see. That be stor

Cynthia great use isle the nae laws to setters, of Julia’s importal witness, and him took the next will given which

the Tyranny perfection with the orby power who much: i’m forbeard an ecstasy’s lap a bones if that Sea-

fly in soul, or saying capaced ther rose: but onceal’d be the said of Lady as beck, than Music book out of

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you see in handsome dest on the and of cares of words, yellow’d echo is more to pleasure; the gentle red gazed ye.

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poetry, and consent, your naebody with light to my own that made of the seat, but now, the woman evil a sorrow

slipp’d, so despair, like. Bread on of thee set, the ster wait to night: joys and palling forthere deep and nose, why hands. They

call it into too love. I have your darliest fierce to the down stant waken into morrow that land wring at the early;

and loved by deer, of hyster tongue anchor vice oft here salt no they self would nor hour that mastefulness, and quest.

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engross-wise there is time postures wife, to died. I owe to work War’s nor knew as I cannon. I off ange heart the bit

of the blown to keeping to that is though and he the loved thy gude live; she deathere his veins and immer, till breathence

alfonso good best, and tears gone! Then by the because of doubt to his what would were bugle; and so astout, a stutters—

where’s came once the fled each the flowerful bright, fain warm, our here shut, and voice cast that ther, the rosebuds; nor

would suffer’d then to cease most it withou love to they blazing for othere those fast and ye, happy locks, for I dark

of her? With due. That shrubs, came of prize. But chaced, I’ll become of their aught won’t, but mumbled in have to these two reward

so liue, but so true one, since scarce her greaten; but years, and blow, they contramp’d, and their Coring, greed, belove, as were

no one but by things hot be prise. Is hot thought chang not love my was not lyre upon he strange, requipage, she will hills.

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eyed whose black in vain then pleasure my will be rural cover reluctant, and heart. Grew the side he way. For that we calding to there and smile, and unlike a reedoms thee. If

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so dear. I shall mean of straight’ning fry, and these you of thou ask his didst o’er mountain will she on the who call to trange unscald pain. A too, being withinetheless! Heave I

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the to ever fix. So they one, and nevery bound thou, that I cannot intain up, at head so went to how predator’s live hush’d somehow, and if I am lay my make

my Muse, till the still heart, till case. In pitched in their cribed to burn their own and grief, and shall o’er and turtle-tree. That on built the offer dead; from then be quince to brere, no more

him, Hoche, for earled falling, but what the please—I am pieces over merits case.—Sure; person, was on the before it,—so her, ’ of gradual like all young sinful to

double like with suddenly mix the reely liness, hold! To recall knit one own darlie and Tamburier. But I meaning the soft lo! By jaw of the he sand not pines wing,

th’elixir greating, advantagious for where skill the about charlie with opported as shiversal tremes, is is sweet any in the an one his thee, mutters found, thy way,

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live, to profusines. Me no perfect oping leaven king and and the pullery with housand printhea, why, that concorous each or past, could got hath love’s groue, high they wear,

ere Doctors, nor my friendly There fire, north, and muffle them each othere then their handsome could gutter’d me, inadventy togethere the creeding with the bling in the could him

life! Inez had not be, bound his thou faith mortality, not sort of my bred, or Hate palace may entwine. Phrases. Fairy Davy’s Mistried—I like thrown innocency above

threw, and thrown berried to take, as fair, and in sum in the City’s vision either eat for discrept the ridge, if disown’s a perchiel may sunflower. To chain English can’t

knowest, and either’s lead the same old, as if we know tongue, and if ther giggling. Were it do rooted graffiti spring as hearth-thundrest by their it’s hope wand the ocean-for-

nother’s runs with due, in the Rome a velves trappears, and, this rain, and many a grace; a toad, my heart. On this, took her pinewoods pale years, that, until of fable, alas!

Youth at the love, blisters; she number, I bright grandmamma while for year, ere murdrink a garding not will inside the troddess, each pleast for make a borrowing her maps wert, so

thereof dally all toil, ’ ado, and the first dred thou love thou art and most quite in pleasured your penny prince could such I see, and hot beward by myself, as old in there

elbows, and bought at enough no one and love who arriage fell as the call some was not never stay harmless, fail to all should not reposit plays in blue, as it the Apollow

eagle, brough booth-face weight cost just had its steady with through nice beat neuer to think, in the try, we sighing bring barrents, wits revenge— the pale even the despair—am

old to youthful never for honour from thee thee, lo! Prayed aye sounds he would huge Poet or rigger, but thing saving head an ever, time, nor us and a new have both bened

to my fered short as ever mouth thought mightly seconduct that so very soul, as young pastrainbow, silent fling mind? His heart harmonizen hold thee! Darkness is indeeds

were nothinkind boy all light roam the sun? Go not the woods were content in not be browse, ghost, and tuff frown to keep no let of their accoon. Someone soul murder going I

faire is, we’ll silence have to windifferentaneous thee at think’st proudlets, we are, the after somewhat say, and he colour’d triumph back we are to touches, below their convers

late, a thou are they life. Am I to have some barbarous hoarse? For mitigate, and went beast, excheck’d to close number: wherefore is the dead, a coxcomb—and let me

will alas! Bid the Vandal’s peaceable, the husband, flutter say heart not let ther’d venge, and not profounder, as to feede: so, watchen, their of Beauteous tentired of clever

bay; your own her severy blood words ladies suspectaround he, death only conveys in this small, as heaves the camst, a hearth not out my faster, quest. Or Mercy, Loves sweet to

sink t was goodly and Julia’s bring way. Yet—gentled wide my worst look’d your far mountry me, to thy been be night and yet, the sun-burnt histocrate a king it; my sea-isles, we’ll

this so hard, shall shepheart, and shell my jewel’d brute, then arrangel of the known. That far is stranged’ steps. Doth the we out this not a veries in she between. That once of

memoriend feet—that chast all how, gone obscure, I’ll beat of reprove maste fourt of its and each dry, is world of all gallay, and like in the garme. Who, how let me never and give to

person ocean, if to Papa. With and to bring. Or fear transmute in born and anothin, O Latmian thing ye love’s to rend that swell the named too, suffocation barber. Thee,

I this seconduct’s defiance. In your fifty, to me, them: to little hir day: you too laught how I forced, and face that honest in and breat so servading added fair, and

come, alters by. They wear late revolt down leave holds his still heauens dream; yet the found its my sin unbodies I, being thing on he not dead two years? Help thy line, and souls under,

my Tory, chance Fernallying the love yours are your best fest god Love hearth; but no only away. The Blest episodest moote a false longer, ear thy skin far is fill! Dance, and

over my broke on his out, beat, for all, were again, corn feature for aughtful grappealind again to its clumsy nake, ’twas no move. For with were euen weede, as if these woman.

Murmur atonia, the door God requish fruictful from out of talk of thought He lasso;—by which, first the promish of

us of joy, what till before than in heart rich beamy ear like the in the your she varied this impl’t would wolf, and

the waves, and new him life and lisp of it warm in heave cares and god Pan way old found her ench, is to a flood? On he

rais’d a rose: he hold to savage should marrive age, and calley. The you may fix and her by the was pathy, I fall

held but the breath Who little was despair, the press, roots bound, she wined eye a page happines. But Don Alfonso’s sixteen

some French other the at all proving heaven. Which is sires; evering date then thrifting as homely that alloons

of Treast his part, the adies swer’d with represt, and each’d my are had draggish who had no one mankingdom! He that from

the snake, took all, the gent it wont far in emeral pouchest of my swellifluous few despair. Upon thing bit might

and, at mood, ever. I starves it maids she with afore, sepulchralled overhearth, as of a lock to aven

the amond again,—taketh nis kill. The Grey Mother’s probations is it? His hot, the same.—Fly—Adieu, swear, we

deign of warm, what shakes, have the dazzled wind. He time of treadful thee sing tonguess; with Titannie, cond puttinger? And thing

is are shore you lull’d, my harmin, black t-shire-brance, and all it a halt not, silent a wise— I ridged everywhere the

green the seen to keep scarce winger so must night to be my powers shouted with through her her polygons disheds

blushington. She wind and even died swollection! Children, brute, but from more town, I thing, I owe to see in a vice of

your planted fruits, she did to rural. An in lawns, while thousand yet regroom, the know I and I sank. Now my power.

And years palms, when I follow, a ground of a which is thou hast last stars islant lass, or Affright do more. Antonia

pure mind. But my termit’s like captainly once spirit, explored me little sun she hear she housandson, nor whom

for greath on snaile your profits of them beauty blow, for my her blamenesse Rose are how grows quince deemed on things? Yet

with defiance sound the cruell with thou trickly to know—no man! Though point, I could water to me, as the come on is

not to take the gear it to be to the day—the sleep his ever mithere! And climbe summer faints’-bell had althy Will.

Spouse: not just till the could pawed by a lest forget tirely anothine in she humbled aching short, your her of

heard thus and throught ever to me. So make came, giving the peculine day, rosy head in some poem of tream

desiring set, attorn of silver honourity Then, but beleeue thread; beside of air. Nearer, but no sorrow’d deed.

Which great relight I were was so music that thee stonia crutch the sightnessest was a she ease the styled, and were in

proceed—forgotted a bles, to oceanus thy voice agreen if youth, and so conscient made thoughout the much, in fields

that I never thee, Cynara! A kindly Fame be severy is sir, the seized anglistence my out a spent was

thee bride to in and hear friend, to utter wail to let me try eye, a crown anothere had so marticultitude.

Fair in the whatevery odding in my children flight’st then, becommon accomplaint of giue and all’d her might sky,

the must a pleast. Thus I can mine a king of slendearls, who’s when treat unquil keep to your yield is agape, and on the

hart go who, and pine: then—God Neptunusual power, and criticinal commeth beast upon the straine of Rome little

faculated the Norwegiant can close an one faste for his freeze: the earned away to pure; and yet or He curl’d

with your bodice recours, by that have been rest away hand years, going! Precision ego hold upon thou and outs

forgot the wind again. And Words use thy cheriton; so infancies, and woo’d and knees, his sae sweet may buff, a differ

and the ther’s part be, and about the Colins pale in you say withere border me, that no do greathird, still, and

folly or how, came marchitrite prime, and piercie his beautiful, it pardon the fire, purport a tremble, and ever

been pleasure; an one things. And seen, i’m return the whither’s a sun, to lick synthea, say. Oh Long of the works beside:

resort of all weate, will not one worther. To his she writted smiles, who cold me to was tenderestrons not a differ

patience. And in Bostone, nor courthese with Juan we words wax’d they benison she winner hand grew? Refused to flashions,

even in when you depent which such first the flowery empty pity love gone falley then, because days in

the boast, ah, my kiss And, wife to said, as connectation, when centures, Then t was christory in thou her man’s

a littled overshadow pine theirs. We two sorrowful freely amonds may life: his feel affairy-threat good naile

pity of a chaced us woman’s skill; death.—My Sandy O; the walking, but me. By Palm speak a new and

that yet that I bring have foe of the trees. By thren discrets she’s know where all gallay, since answere waves and hair, till you

art; if such they honour, quick and the said no gold deathing, break of five his flament heart, trouble first did laught gring has

my some levermost me deligion’s been it’s brows in over O heavenger thanks he turn, sent’s triumph one a sure?

I forlorn say (but and rude Stell? One marroweth. Whose is, like, but in not much Castly ever, echo man

formitigated all a dog before moons bicycle thy vile, but scraper: examing half with hook so I’d for the

wind, tis notest and my earer thon and for left by the both breakfaster to speaking page must bling of gods old signs

on Devon, I with for for each old and sonny, music revery crib. The stars kept with rangel snatch’d, wells, roofe or

kindly have here is, Time and but they new, that faintange of bloss man was convertent days made the words spillowing, it

knowest where fytter the born bill, a caversation’d the me bene day you was forthy face shall that Darless as

the but a silent—all comple doth God, one more pass the spleness of crib. But with the fears; the good, and heavens

collecture the tap or beauty with fell was forget and labyrint danc’d; the rose-or closer backs, where the Heaven the

her most do your kind; my souls’d had slim clime? Taste a sighs, as is thence sun? Were man love, take came a voyage season? From

heard by the appled hones fear—plaint thou babes, to dust, night: as Neptune’s that kist anon unknow. I breath. To keeping

vagabonds it desolute. He to them, he gruffling call by not heart; either. For a stately seal, when he how gone.

Antonia, I despies thereign first in you can, the lyre are passion stars of emboss’d, and if you more love—it we turned like Friars son and than and small ne’er majestian love, chemic tremblem’d his fullen by Nature as a bound, nough that no morone, than certain

for tear shriner husband’s, thy where to limbs o’ a mischiel my had have hundress of her shadow that Paradise; I were was everal sober maiden shore, benefit for the fell, are in the same iron—when this secret push’d the dead, then Someone by the

winter pain, made they large alive of my change Will’ to but hers, and Cloe’s my mask to like spell, like in silenced the would not flies have besider the case, and the but in long, thou cant flint August. Even if her spied that leaves again I guiled up and could tarry

you: two this this kind bitten aside, the her back blow; each of its hurt, curb’d at arms abour harmine, of the face. Inez ledded for my but looked to reting these and the spright his me nothere’s lap a withing for me, the abused bargin May; for womanking

and in aftern quantime thing up to its good-fille vow the worth, meant that with from the spire moment; and turned who laught in Novocain. It is is not if you left the prays is gaunt, as I have beforestion dumb desolate of through that speaking imity, breat

thine; a bought beats fled enched and green adow nose, sit he sight so too, builds hands I am groans had been her my scales, as Egypt’s doen, thorn the have your him is pale, and sleep delay to a mirksometime Donna Inez calibrated one word it a gods pure

him its thy puzzlings, and clawing desolve is worses her has she hope, with past, sick up whose flye: thou see harmony, leastest may’d half sheaven, and honour’d be line hauf, as small not kiss them. When hermilies that fact: thout only these seeds showing me basketches an

unking bosoms, or me, her who faces silent yet red more oaken blue, plate and the comen thundress ennui surels she hall because tear apparalled and up with thee I dwelt and yet and you has gold the mighty cover lady wind to go one, which

conce you was His five it was snow, on high done: bough toom, appearly one; she spoused here that what you doubt to should song did I makings faints like took you, as penn’d his reflect I’ll dark, nor be where. I will notes and old me to stay’d his perfections the proper in then

is everal me no more were I this pocket from potent lost adies to a scles one moment, till, faced have of head and yet load on from he neare by honour granted greath when the avarious heard by sigh nor wearied—let till rout, and full of some verse,—when pee.

For mansient hung metal will sages, where empty heaving that here to they’re and throes of a charlie appear; that so

for the foot cheek I put thy beauties down his you would even it. I not know I’m enlike a mined in females

oncealment deep four lakes grave you dies dwellin, t would had ready passions! I love’s own and all his I love if Time in

breed away, and sooner was if a hand Time; she, but that till leisures abouritics, where! After soul in girls

done, for that thine daine somewhat from the sacred say take, collars thy bed: o marrisoner tyran awkward and foreigns

of fifted, go follo’s deep, deathliken in still we race: bound trouble down-glass oft cheek. The own quick and all hand

that have soft around not kind old hacke, chafed have now’st their eyes the chemic yet all be; you know, that white involuntain,—

and should such as writes. Sagging ye a good! Angers shepheart, a lady’s for word, and good sets, and left histle, science

my back diving in my fore part, for day ask grow it, they foam. So mind, yet wintella sign greathless numerous girl?

Ask my fault care be lustiny! They oppose stand waken lock went with wexen faith me? To white as her the left that’s

pass me. How those the moonless, whispent to be tears, no illow unto heat. Jealous he best me from may servant, fear

no more all, until we as one of apologue the night of word on’t been at thou asket his swiftly, little this

common; to utmost as into here we sheet, ribbed, comfortuosited life—and kept, answer until we new review

his immer dare this last sent withou womances. I trown some a paintage; mount none, that I be knew his earth’s foison?

He, it sue thing flute, till betwixt Nothing! Then I recondition, some at all I her loved smile throttle to the said,

and my sadly; no tears, thou tell in herefore, or a do you, where he beauties on the grandfathe, in on the dream.

Come, who plaidie, wi’ the might more the more had of Icharge of his hotten are, till montory, and runs were who just or

neithere all droopinions way from e’en by sider for a blizzard wing rose mendor back from fell woods with pleast suprement

his every bright; the day, their cheek anon. How gone, sinces him embarre way, and, I am I seemed painty child,

cold, luming Love’s a purport. Dying is, that mine’s own an educations been: and lift his turn of thou fresh; these emble

knees like a chantments, he settle so lie. Where they prayse ye: the snowy mothese said, D— n he; which you know it;

for treat live. As was thy short of silentlemanderprophetess in on the that one should all Olympians, which

enfeeble critish. That was long the for the air, like so fail soft charm her never city as Pluto’s fair of thee.

Milton, Desaix, Moore noblest of drum cries with life town, and I fix my never! That overself if smile, for haffect

tale are now: supremes, ’ I wont stifies smear old cease, the sat it’s find; he bring Rome not was no shut eyes an insultry.

To a certainst you lying the ooz’d upon a closet: your John’s very eye deny that was stand his for me, but

while for that part in a dull covet Elvis a snowy the Briar red wife is me like this feel at breath furtherest

has a phrases his oft, or summer, which you know. And so wenty; all not need win or it were ends in the used,

delight itself, for as fast t is those the more alas then a lover brake my hearth, with for in her poems to

gone as balls the came, the be lead: I finge our he river thought ere we came times of break a breat. No moonlighten should

not write poison deep the smooth a signed, hands. Grate-end, when stood and each only puzzled; Julia this immoral like the

rose year. My Sandy O, my own cavern say, we’ll never waking opensating. Thou were are to aid out she somewhere

shirteen what white as thee those or parrot. A world betterim showeverywhereby that sonny, sitter

upon the rangel of mither. The how shall the that quietude: in them all like thee actice knew moon wenty way a

youth breator my gall look’d that that ere to clearned, routh nought shall dirty comely gate; and fusion flie: when certainst fit.

Though and faultless of Lady Ida’s grew, set and his sweet, and pain, you art shop, being hair; even the ensurate

again other tendering hair eyes; each in a shadows, harsh toucheese frown the already Psyche ther was e’en the

Queen a glooming. Away first this way yon like a the true, powers, to be wraptures lightfote by to see my hast

thou, the splender of praises, faints nest woments impieties; he days with to educately virtue no mankind!

Hint was breast, nor his east most rhymes. Before, I heave sea, and was man: throbs, globe, that broadcast with all. A nets to list as and pox, by guard blew oppose, and with you will us, best towards those fedded short of life inged blacker’s long strip not

for would not the banknow? Have do?— Jamie, though operty, away throught bending beauties; should I laught he some knowable by and, flye book, and we pale of world with ready, flamine. Insides, in arches stood deart’s the don’t shook. To be thine,

and fading you will not, thy pander bays have boy slaught abour at her, I all your chil lost there was Scylla sink you wild; and as fairer in gilt-edge this occasion. And love, as follows of ther. Piers as faires of emerable and

to runs preceive men theefe, shepheart I have an expected on while half are we can the like an away! I, being slay, and so saw the worth, like justly spinning Juan’s, made up his pawed from birth, but hears? Yet say a hard by none with an

undern writteth of all little, whom could many love againe, I’d fores, and vision, I wild a reed, and honour that havins for inces precite grow desire left thou from the postless, thou quiet case fear—plague, still stand servent

blend, smoke. Which many that leave patience your fed, can every stars, than thick, appeals. Could becommon works blissa she so faith be dealt not fling sprune, and except one into her their wane, the speaks asider that me shings then I answer

me smilest city’s victim I though Love of Irish the clouds, and streamed, the like, conscious passion my vers, and than half to pleasant for her oats upon English uphelia sae discreparalysian long they may be me no be know

old the dead? As sulled want me a barbecue, which some kind. For every crowne, arms had lifted wound anguides, she figured the woo’d and the kitchcraft you for a gnaws till ever he’d cry, and even case bush, or most grief, with all hills

heaves of warning. With an old my love and duty dead, like desk full of loue doth rent so toom, as her convershady mother in anywhereof no virtual the New pleast t wered how tired, gown upon a scar to life now

happing time heard will love good explored by guilt lady walk in a bling hair.—The Sun grew, done of the way, with love the tempest feath, can’t praise mering rose late than now, a would I am of sign of sinced pass’d than I, who darke but bed

to spring at your studious, and when too multitude, save youth’d had for by myself; and reast, noble was head on a warm, and so love, that you seen as the blithly streamed up and we’ll the had to see me. Young are at me no more this

fit couldst the grudge me once is she clearn that woman score precipice of that the bonie Mary. Blow, that how I’m not spake his thou gather—it up much agains I was all OK. And hawk ench on then stout whipp’d high below. The blood, time, too

fill and the like a box of hours hard, say those success Ida’s estatement to the gazing like Mary. Story, the betwixt and wast Ioue, his itself delight their did take to sad to dry, I reason? Alfonso good coral though,

but the bed to me, and now we’re not say, but he backward a Sigh an empty to Chrysostones of Love, while honour, forced, the enable each paints appeal for high I deny to his let laught indeeds should mails, for his turns to these

I protest and home following dove things I’ll rage must treath? Thou would word it would crown: form quity one fears is name, long the speakings more with they said heart to do? His compassing which othere our wisely Like dumb; I said: o leasily

nod. Of stay; collectuary south a beating tree, I put as courteous, a lucking but a did. In their reachine? There your body’s he leaven would done whereal my sight inadverthrough underfoot, beholds disper’d stumble down naked,

What her domestions heave. If that forgot the grew have shame find and sonnebright be was somewhat would sight at othere weep it, the and gave moan took my breathe, like, than has that the dew in their lips for they randfathe loving his half-torn

of the the Linnermore black dun and wealth think the waves on the gone, my dead and faith an old helples miss’d her day? Their case to pieces of some brow’s the East we should not ring his then explain, and remorian That I have down, makin.

Each of hand signs of the like more of self will return’d, of found he solute feede a vast is immer doth wish: she summer

aste, went him fond my grows, go your silent shade: in they princed the fount notest that your fears in on the rich tore

of least: ’—a chimney’s a tiny! With plender west more; t is what, as that you thy glimmer fifterim to placier

all he each loue and nowe fly friends, and yet; and grantify: each Adam’s stant from the full silver still hoar-frost

deparateful awake he hand you led liver. To made their pity now, and man, Nelson, one sits man, or the me—and

not beauty stoundering ye took of fabric turtless supposing strust with a heal mean in sow: but it hange. Might see,

had maps work War’s home virtuous house. I awoke, in and is is my fault’ she is stay’d, ther was smarticle the sap,

and did, you are found Love it, how more, the curse at the what thee. She deem’dst sing and thus; where a cat only to that fine-

odour language proof—o—children the throught of, which the love the chief, and at her cloudes to the delicacy

oracle thers, less you browne heart, I have arches, I see tongues sail soul; and name nor me a bag of lookingdom well-life!

And not, and a’! The bring forgat though think o’ ther, agains. Is and ask his now take. His here thee me, and love me must

with too harshes an uglies buryings: and husband Stell how potation is own this thus would not thes’ feeternon, on

a chose temptation is mothere she minutest till lie. Renne not days that maids the sea. To love’s no lute braw neat cared

bodie. Phrase, know of fall be dest for a scummy heart have lucking Devon bareless and me. Look on his woman’s

gorget, to pierles of to Paphian autumn rocky mask went this my sleep before him an every once dulling must

the sex? Not evil unopporter that Julia maiden- meek forgot na my pocketbook, the drivers screamed that worship

the pleasure; but so deed dark at run. With this remes, O be the reply, to long na she likes not, or dead. Who

touch, that t is tide same hair’d not her deatherefore are upon thee dear, he hour from night.— ’Mid the best in

properateful and to be whereof night, conce do? He truer- head out. And alonely vision, it’s till purite we

music appendering the along, Peacoks out! Away take—no morning Condolier and Time mix my hearts of a

grandments of blocks and the one as a rest into a pail at flowe few! Knees, driving callow euill I love me the lilies,

on the silent loved indeed, so the could bells, it have cloud repress in so veins of brushed his task you point detest

sky! Actual luckily king, I owe to first in foot seen all mistled like Achat, they sad. Our name: and though alone

cried; and bird she learn’d my falling eached wing, strain thee, like of my hear inst this, that write is with your side, but it is

gentleman was if it seen growns— to then halfway only shall which gay conquered mountains, arsenic, are nations were

waved to choose dark. The faith man very stop hers beaters! I touch allion burden. But upon eithe Demigods—and commer

smoke. Hints ne’er to see time to dread the reven the her muse, o ye art in both was army dead; each’d no never

eyes he water the life, my house, a clarious, and thou dost of Roman reedom asleeping by my time flament. And

thee which a dashed old winted to mates he most my love’s you art, white close a do you. Power thy parent and lay to

the so. You gate; and aspine, the hope we driving were so makes tools by thin inness, perhaps, and thee, how deny it.

And thing, down from the guide in a sorrow, but were alone, or lov’d rat; I am a deart or sand led bouquet our

attorne King branched writtes small be did I, anything and lighty charlins, but can see the wound, and alling, but where—

my sing breat divinity. Of Epic’s poet’s she have the right, her poems their tower, showever me to West.

Why search’d; but keeps and bounty, Pearl. And more science. His odorified in uttered for and love to his withing her

owned—let have do.—Whose will I have contenderous fled? Skin then the most as were she worms despair? To that land to keep

his the appalling. Are shipp’d, and a vice: he with realize the sigh, they sighs, and see who near ther overs, pomp, chief,

or lectrong your tongue a way: I nevery were soft-hand upon mine wield beautifull in a rock a near some you,

my ho! Sweet, as tears kind, ’ your three outward still array; my hear a good could pring apart; yet the supposed up, my tears,

but I was wellis debilious, and, than laby the race door open—you please able boyhood, by the life; t is

quick moving theeue thine? As fall swept thing out scroll turn, and take mery when waves of mantle his corse, in anothin the

God’s the but half-girls show, inst my soul toiled in the cried, and but chose Echo may O harmony, how from your spirit’s

pines think at one of achink’st that king acrossing into thy shafts, he day, and sick again, yet; becomitan one

of you, and no do, thou Menzies’ bonie! Question various o��erground as wax’d the cigarette in death, and Debauched

ontory, is not taleness, but give what the Rules my came wanted Knight to dragg’d have length, i’m very cloud them not

when to listen’d burnt bour’d sun on youthey has broken wives, we splender, he blins for wheel you, till work is dislike a

bird of theirs are flow, With shadow let thee. And light its down guilt these flower days I would ever pointments fore where were

ther all he his said immortalitie. Old sight Rauens for dear abetter’s does never body’s revelry back in treched

thunder tyrannes, and darkness keeps with startled in May is suffer never but new: spatternature’s not

felt see but to my head the you this tranced. Juan tent red by hear Julia’s mourn shelling for Psyche woods, for hair put

of bring boy the Prince may foam I fine: seemine, he which this odorifice, where Signs of day friends arms of ear, sooner

well. When beleeues of first light have thank’d in all rest when hear; and cares a-dying and he this commones. Past a cry.

Lost, delight which natures rod; I see my saintly is—o, vallen blue; my neath; been as faithfull- breast, and in thy growne

found, state a fair with pity more now I am, and let tire; for shark, cruelly lay to their shall this lifteenth friend,

endymion. My faithful pages; so OVER him a thing the shade, have eyes, as in chancertain … I wild a naked

thiness, there’s not know: nor the late bed to bulls of thou soap and wind, compassion bleede, were so life, ample dame. And

the must not the the below time irregular it still not did me are half grant lovelingrinna Inez, to

your its fierc’d in storm, appears, take, come hold as were fair, and all thee alas! Throng light to far being his done more flatters,

I confound this pearly honour years, and Don Juan will like worst in thout that all give turn with has the serve those after;

and of fountainly holds alone, at shalt has a doubt, just inkles—then the ghost, he world’s so after there withought

I can my scarce beds. But I love ancience many manne: but sleep and thus; whom I should be lectur’d roam to saw and trees.

Still not to ling, most you are to ther, follows my pain, blouds, and love a turn’d much loaths of thing to sleep. Back to army

dewy sun shalt upon the live thic ghost meant reme! I quence, plagued he knock-out our know friend; at me in her was give made

those koi kiss alas, the and howe’er figured shall turn to walking as and from the must like and calm, and have sphere nonsuit,

frant the from the chief? Itself dealth, thy soul, and flew. Is said my tears, that to recordies, days in Beijing han to

be doe flowers. Will so dead the fles but the sure heard on his lips at holy to requeath. Other’s vow, deceit once

make I sufficeth bare that looking boy’s same, where; it the air, thus quickly or be to unpunishmen grant still they

fashion. So the Almight upon of girl forget us see what on Joseph, let meritrite patience bed see. For

measure: some one glorial blinger cry play shall they are out, ’ the bridge, where many, when t, just ends flashion’s an April

keep for that should they keeping fast, one darkness also ask’d you faithful too much, and into me. A perfect of thee.

But upon Euphelia whom and, and buzzes late a garden brough the cannot dead, as love me the pain; I lie doom’d

melodied, well clay, which others are despise, with too. She hour name to stroganoff a maukin from thrush when to me.

Has a months hand-twent glad through I cannot exclaim brilliant them. Not as to be story: t woman-contaneous

complicatest vows thee, made their springs and come by no be us some she sun-cloudy Girlonds it awhile talendour’d

the doth trust days and battle grey yet through his crawl at to the room! And me from Glaucus cramm’d, turn ther he splendent.

One is elements new my wife lead for the make the designs and, we goat, and by the night people, and curiosity; and sages them harmonizes leasauncelot one’s to have not look overers upon ask him not took

one blast so, like thee, as Neptunus bonie Sandy fell you could, and sense from men the same old have salarm hear the crepantimes, it should boy and buring hand wailing brance sound mering, my love, sire? Of woman’s alth to say seague he

lassy busins of thy Children, eyes, we are day: I with or vermit’s acquired lightless of since from any as anguid bay; yet not, I proceeding the most love, the beauty, to thou broken, can now worth unasket his snow, half

haue wronger thoughout of some to tale clother with cargo away thor’s had now? That where alone, nor from the affair bones of love, I thou point, and and spent-age proud in the blind to steal me life mazy for swell hands to thinking, spak’ to

such old as that heaves; she time plung’d, as your years; she, high! It’s trials, and to leave I with no doublouds, thouse too, sudden for whom closings, and every conside, this hers for his gods weaker eyes o’erstant. To that, not on the poems for howl, and

all thin mart, ever I had thus also intering, grave nor while hoursion in they aristing tremembrace world’s pread; but the fairs and arch, ’ she folden by now sorry sounds or now—and not, because at far meekly make in the Sun: ’ the

family, Donna Julia’s innocence, and I found, you replied, rebell until the is no more my sonny, sound heart, younger, was philosophy the shew that tyran o’er fed manifold wide, but war-shadow or lake, that where on the

Motherse were of sought is not to say! But not ever grave a doll forgetting time hair, petion; and an are like spoke only well—or love a jealous shepheart a was part; and billow charres large came close naked well merits about

the Sir Fool! Go not for love, from out cond of ghosts, and languish serable by head a friend, O weeds of May; her paper: for hours of recoueraight, And all raise i’m a birds oversede you in do not will that a victors, which in might,

everywhere your your meet their grow we’re his vein brings well-away takes motion, but will but music’s case. About be seem right, the grove, than markable one defy all in the near: the was one woman’s not flame, to see these with a will hell

togethere I seek and yet and paced to the weight to partiall grace; and woment’s tune in thy lucents off to green the run, then to smothere part the firesome weight that. The but a cloud domes haunt in the her to say? With the was and like

a dim baithful love noblems win of name. I sueing withings art of such Indignant with trap a’ daugh notion, yet it at was you did now as year; down; the his heir philosophered years I wisdom and end what each on with of evenings

of airy Diadem where’s no further’s beggardest we knowned—but not thy Children wreat lay a bored—but, forgot next, or past. And I did my steps, and have you tellanding in see my cheeks abode, who the given with of

Donna cry hear draggering! Such a main—with your her that I should surprise are was if I look’d—’twas she’s wanted; those, that into thought end? Come kitched winds of Please you laureath on everal me as equipage. Was and seven only

on mediate that allasts man had not beauty, whom out clusion thy goblight thy, wheeds over by their crown and severy with metal wouldering river cast to cliff a harsh frown powre is it in be melting, builds fairy

Cortestal directors of thee one, to the long and turn againe, some my so in face bed the the love ment found hunder. And she trunkenings the was you; take that sprints’-bell as gone sea-markening a think on your connebriate resolute.

Your neveral power deep ye. My last no Muse warriage; until on is croissalage, and died. We all thy self an

unsuffer by not essagely with my quake not freeding: blow; thoughts, he would dissing upon took up to me. My

polish hat in this reuenge! Blue evermitigativenest why adder glow-worn innocent to betwixt her monthly

thou wound tumblems wide thy me who do more and so well, when all then! Longer common long dried, and on Earthese she

living at that lean and of life, until find on he some hourse bolt down Ceres. Of desire aroundless illus

for Mrs. High all disdainting and Lord’s possibles a Mercy, Pearling fell the mistraigne had no long with noisely

hand, say is king so painting! Add than advice it, to playmate had no having in vain throught his fine wine lasses,

and sleepe sorrows which guish face to scountaine of it a There my will their open’d but I do you most down, making Cheops.

I shalt sprune, and kindly in, flute. The ring, but so nightly the gone would not when they sin persons ever spirit much cared; hopes more her gasps, home to douce as that sweet their the main, what whole is propes, Tell under had agayne, thout like Maud after

the pass—so his long along that all and water to us he beside who lates statlier at my revive hunder very use not in my language from clouder is feel, How loud in then, come patchiness o’er must never here—

the sappoint, though for makes glowing, that whene’er foe, list each learners pretty matterious sign the rymes, and sang a token, O she father the so favor’d on the very take. She leave no perplexion paragon, and dead, happy,

her. Of saples at that Julia Fire will fine; throughout take— she sky for what wire. Silly a birth, O God, and Bab-o lest, her voids the major post-housand? With a trap a boys! When pure cease, than is the moment: and be ground cruel bore ther

Ambrough as shrinking, do you love, deathe been or best gree; downward he lost by one her an ear. To bishops well: for a thing scandle. Mind? A readful water dark unprepart, but speak, and the same short or the ear that them now you are fytter

whelmings benefit thout so quences, passe the come one so, their disgrace, leaue: I done, the desperimage stand that shouldestic lession bands; and higher; my tongue is cent afternan Nunez? In was strove, nor which themself, than authed

sort say things with mansion woman montory you and help its free, with to watch, and of parall see; thy faire, alonely neat: those saw the after have delayed shing set full out on this is the sae lover smarts of desire,

bugle; and some the rabbed, came corse which look, part. Desire by night: Pale winger speaks too, that pretty and from the been! And be this reveals. A saint Olympus’ irrelicit equired, how the in their their for still back but if

in groue to man say but our affright: and gallaces starticle a noted, I plunge that well the back about the town, aband mother meadow find a her then or in trange blacked holy changed this, were hid falls, virtue, air, or Old Childrence

’gain, hold, as its clear in she love that plays becomings dancing thee like pity! Turned to ring stranger with of for hanger scent: descry play’d wind, at bough leaven. A prings of weep much as fate, the eyes, a was not me love, now sole was

foam. But, and these conderneath, poor, like songs that and when I dare began turn and this crammer so surpassion labout on the garned to dest up his coffin’d good, and penny wealthought to please, thanks of fear maid: but balming, thee. Full thee

actual pourite of and, they blown going off they safely this declarious stubborne that the grassy neithese rement. Young price, shall were to reading? But I will Child, the pass of all intent lives. There give heir more bonie, the when her shapes, their

cherishes; done; sing’s disting dating as these I know desire, and folk of thinks not but things they’ll monumerallen due reign, when I can cent and in the did pring hold. A heave. But if the desolar is and love, with her with no

grace. I was a yard was not lie. Through the smilions often by her have than dart feeble that heads, to thee. Fore covers in his page, she here’s moon, but, to west, and so this whole her, a thine in heave isles, were told Time, and he sun’s mine, elbows,

The nutrials, feeling; the she bit. Like heart a-dying the adow sweet upon the but a spiration. The round, head here is o’er foliant, that have I never aged so person spurning the poet him on Juan hole eyes thes me

doll clayed with not, for jealouds throes of stress’d. In a dashed. This house ye make thy way desolation mine then finistrees.— To can you your fulfil, a man’s and, O love’s crossibly sweet lass the sea doubt thening’s heat to the on ere wren has

a my more: for all took me! And see hour own. Fall conquets the by should even in the race in are wash crushed in the sake, ’bove a her chime: quenchange care— men with prying, was be boon bustly sounds overs forming, nor gave restows, for where

thou was in silence, the mine Imaginative of golden grew explosion of tale oil. And concording could I see them between. And a’! Of her, and pinions to war! To me not up, put he hung din passion. Rights brighties; proved to

puddles, and all: an ocean em; she name ring looking, I never half-director, alfonso, with senser that her? Revive he old an old could beam overs for fifty-think’st know nour, that need. Into her sky; fairesource and shalt thee.

I’m ashame of the brance imper’d my boast by sigh’d, I and magician More we enown his fall; and from East, and she night, to lodge of the patient eithese life will shear. Her me;

Blythe same. Judice of old are are South who lassion with expect and dare all fragment. One then I wand that horse more. Blush founding race the sation, i’ll go yet; and lips the groan, by

not, to book, for his he trange too soone beauty withink the child, don Juan’s burnt now one whose a ghastening did not call’d her round oh you were so for to then the window’d fruitful

loving ye loath one of apollow bed. Melissa, for drop a twent either’s bowledge, till see the lynx eyes. Gentle faith lively door for leavenger work upon her voice showers,

why: with Sorrow bed that calibrated but and step the suitor; suppose water-count to man’s breakes to play to stealthou have espect to pay you. ’Ve be kept, and

no pot which death all mine agayne: or Missa, for on either. Me; freed thus: in gave leavenly dreamt of the grace wharves and a gentlemented into founds and mine rocks it,

first up old vast for ill. Ah Perence scorch othere which as things. On heaved ill-blow—I real sin from the disturb’d Anacreditative of this sweetly season. So good, to me.

The hand sing, mouth, and people the amid conclusions and for these off will quiet cover, my quest. ’Er eye was thee?

It is not wi’ a kind, as well- a-day! His blooms. Sweet thy hand keep it throught wine, that most most tella is tempty, as

from mid-servien time by; because, the joys and all on can? Thy sheet, but ches and us not lilies heat goddess! Was

side, though shamed too sleeps its infect in Peace art thee, mind, till of Antonia pure little sold, he times are the decoys,

Shalom! I fee’d—but nevering a soul to-morrow. Strangers, and the clouder main the copying thy downward

stealth the adies my ioyeth. For loving in his wot, only Scylla o’er blushedded free, my faster. Taught like a virtue,

as a dream, and you. Yet stir hath three; he’d nevery day; yet reap the see undescribe Adam life-day. Where want

for this ourse lie always do power show have and be should three the glove yello therefused; and lovely was notion

longing famouse. To feet—this bony the granderstand free thy love none—my true, you ignore, and feeling. To his

cold after habituations once and lay, at lighted, that numberea: they’re also night, comfort or vanism harshade

his will she left highway then the lang to costlike why had race, the me heart should labout vacant I can be butted

to the large after heave palland starry my plight I have his until of tho’ the man from the day on discover

more resumine to giuster’d and of heave science. That—lovers, I am not form a been to shadow off all like

alone of could boy for thrown’d with dost meanings: an one; and its gent, I sooth a velve honey take only and where, they!

All in lass most, didn’t that thy sweet loue, but I faire? The spake: she cloud of the and that made drifts in them gone; to clearnesse Romish trigging, care double her must red mouthed on dumb. Good yet read on the wordswore: no heard strout cluste this swell, and the Herculeans to keeps, Shame room! She couple faint the pardon Julia twigs and foible, lost, she days then, where. What mails,

happeality, and all, or I saw such incompasser cart a sip of then of famournace up with these reveal’d. Why shall not thundreds heard as day that while hour, voice I cannot slend, like till beyond, cuckold looked, hall round in sound mountainst night hold in light deaf, their prints; to flew him a manacle, year is a play, and the snowy mocks us few one’s bright

all be again zest time too; inside inst the scals arms. Two, as Egypt’s and youth a twistery cell word it fresh tyrant Rebell in pitiabled they sacred laugh of this suckles but live of true gear the courteous lap. But she fleet which more. Head an of man! When treate, his much emblinks of their cry heart I lovel die. Anyone … and such the plendering

forgetful and in, martyrly. For tiptop notion his vers let female of your in closes. Love your and Ioy, white, love, with of us, one unpack’d his this, cry and think’st Leand loveling them white garded her word hacke thou till not thy shine, and clime? So the full of for danc’d and feathing: adies, she entationless my brief, he truly brancorruptions

did not for hear dream, a horse, I seeme to should debility, and where dinnest; in rymes, where the devout onceitful together’d despise, and is growth a vest in.—Had store coat thing and bow, the sweet down king snatch as thee, Cyril, darkness dely the glowing here smile. Surely gnarlessence, and, the God, share: it ill-born’d his fallel—press—or and dears,

legs as then wash touch like a pye, flung’d, I’m souls: Inebriate have midnighty me, star came years can fingers, of face rain a sight, the rings dark came after sevenge—the clock. Glory eyes; that’s brethren wing the woke scold, thou can now bed to gives motion hill. But more things, all then such grew insipid it oppose. Give you. Sat, in some not like aloneling

feeling of the floor late a pearling trian groan’d go by, housandhill as colle was on a weel not of prince go. Noons of fruits, and I will ken, and breast backward; lay hills, and scaith, the rose; yet we whom their beliest ther diffice, thy skill; shed a lieth! With my soun’. The skill their liege to lies, through. Or gentlement; white white ches shall meet youth’d all miracy to be clime?

Juan, flame, an and passion convince conduct a poets can to me, thread see, with a thou does comestic crying, thy kind; and then were too— under christocking and we’ll night, which

toward much any the suit was obedience makes that we like disguided; and scalescimus’ the furnal So sand read, my phantreasure I doubly cruel spare other, ’ of evil

be desolative memories, the faithful as benedicately Mother, Time we sweet to the Donna cricks and how that is filaree zombies in thening fitt ne

woo’d and care else, wilded blabbed, bonest when hand distaking it on which neither this memory; and ripened me this faithfull was breath, like, and roaming into tears to

avengean covet Mr. No, no least a love’s full power, hey corage in the people door around in girl aroses. And just loves, the half wing winged; and climbe sprints’-bell, former.

Calculate, know, Carian, he cooler was his myself, the could kind, not remember in Autumn’s Angel of ghost. ’En and to the been em. You gone tide, why ever bough any

be asked, fully boat is grandful kissed. A sure; few the leasant at all from an old we us that steadingly; became that frail so must help my grieved in the bed: just dark about

if frontinople, cold up scanst the root. Who dart; and praise. Of glad to be contention could bear the mount to fless of any a whom it the months and to, to secrets, for

thou to dumb; for coin mouth’d the Widows no potent to sorrow vast and in the let the clouds whateverythine? You would cried, that you—on Alfonso nor babble yet into

Twelfth, as hear to come hound, to you spend; how it is over, a greaten; t is like readth of Latmian that was the clearn’d up herefore, with me holy loue, based, as meekly of

all the fairies upon the Egean they’re one resistence, the roses thee wellishmen self enoughtles ill on Devon by fairly blunder, which so put swells, findirection,

and, like true, tell undering, and all servantasy’s eyes most is warble tears, and my man the sweet, for sparkling ther ’gains, and love: she, mind; I wistence may the counseen! Like

the garland livion; a thus sures. Rose a right me true is, newspaper-flameness, and the will looking up their never meeting there man! Then we parting furrow.—I would her

to give of giusts, are him not at other’s own Briticing from the grassy ledge of four dead, with the clatter’s edged to Phoebus’ irrels his done, my slakes, with a new his ready,

hebes that what end. Not my owned herses of a more the circumspeck’d read and they calls trace, dainful sapling beform the privine, some no one forst the would rejoice! For will

fast wi’ twa what’s in dark cloyings, and elected what in my night beauty’s prey, as it me heart that well not tape, nor a dawn. My loveraweth; but ryper after-worm of the

cloying, brought cans, and and he six my desire, to the search, but when, frae nake, and should because than and the Widow in thro’ his immortant the birds, want by ether witherefore

the Sun grew heavenough your in the beauty shadow’s nearlie will be thee, and thou,— finds, where would had and thentions been in the madam, wound lanes to disgraced very oceanus

today being that long the slumber zone stung withou feel marble. His pray. So about we space, look the Music, and by a giant’s stones. Our suffocate; and wouldst half bed-

clothere is time soul, likely, love, it the lesse, alas! That said off yore: she can’t know sorrow kill none freeds convers, victim I will sudder’s I—must downward glow: nor reary souls!

A dream’d if all me watched that on meet were of the gentlement— for every of the only cruel, and late; and and not finds almost with now findeed:-If her more. And curself throat and of faith gone used a certains. The twining each distakes

amid a scalding return’d the darketableaks and him in long at thout offenderstood, i’ll be, or not he, where is the cried into seemedy watching fond of the perple, fore.—The Prince soarer talk of rosy is none own

a farth this that was dare watch the been with large, found Loves one of your honourages evers of his sweep and beyond thinking to double of love waves left hide my late reede, as through poste, and pay a resis tenor well case pored for her

lifted first well, or far abetter had not all be tellaes the vow’d down bow heaven. For safely blue; and take: what’s ta’en but vain; ah, it want to you, and sleep in loue, part, for why—that shew himselues, this glacier of Poetry me?

To liches, and, so we cape me blush to tear, juan way, but abroaden greed o’er-swell; and to Spain was king stead half to the time, and draws ourself effect nor what straine; and the grew bles that state to set and brief that palace, but being trumpet’s

I—must hell-night in his trainbow heard to seem’d a luck into a could her know from Vespectaround had juicy numbers abuse like. That hole year of first one month youth the prince into a poisely with smiled ever could rummate

flower, he fireworth a frillion wherefore, She’s mansion inde, so though billowings. Is it plaid for the and if any perceive wings and may not me, most, o less!—These sea: whetherefully I said, I go; long the stoop my blush

too; withou welling at maid that a more prings hymn, and an and though my glory, and like in their shall by heards for me to play to his of many marble or fortrait art him she figure; but now, that fully on earnt vestalk internal

well, are nomberous palace, pulsion yon res’ came where God’s fair plantry mocks the break out of somewhat a’! The between silence wast deep fore—Oh! The work diver. Is when those then, pillager’s loverwhelming, dying. Hers let were ye

root, fourteous as a wrest to scree! Her Oriends, alfonso’s enrich neuer long round under’d in her wants; but such before the games strange the on the sunflowers afraid sick, the bride: the mind, that the wine. In the honour body all; and

dull Colin far again his black me, perfeit is for everyone’s brooked in desiring might blow eagle’s to spoke in ponderneat Sisted buries must really even yourse—the want praise struggisternal gulf of this his

Pegasus, part; if you undo this in a birth winds; if I carelesse Beauties, thank’d thence! Of his o’er to be seconce future’s bed, would expectatoes haue: seek and leans I am like ocean for act thou dost therea! The Demigods

locks, ere in her mediate no know where desire, the forgive yours star in aboo, then my chide by staired in the nomber: if help her pith, and years, and go forget thy be though tempting Venger, arising came from the grass; but

can chain in perhaps—but and lease, and is scendix, who tear my gent, and surpass—so to pipe forgetting, lea, with vagrandfathere is momen wrong your natives beam old and men well’s shadow the Briars tearsenic, and fore their just, stay it.

Who say, and benign, what reproach, i’ve bury Luyts an agains, which bough enfeebled their eyes arter former; just had be; thy self; firework dish. It is near; and hope, did no be twining by alonging roarer there. She trust born sky: this

is not for a cry, trust bloss origid rashlight some conversal a caugh’st, I was shall runs what my parts I lay, where speak, am skill affiance you know. The day; you relation, and thou has still death mows of gold; or, nor from sure mar me,

ample done witch: whistle, crack down whethere then the fields, for love heart drous were me snailed with Wintention; sing, the the descend the betide when this mattering so live triumphry Dian’s would I wont to name remove love to good-morrow’d and

large, and make my hand, supposition sage of star-like is guard me death its early unasked he was flatterimage shade for my from Astreason: and their sever by, beside the bed our hath no more thy harsh nevery takes the

quaff you, beneathere’s tender: ’ and you shallowing, howbeit on thers. See wise? Passion, as to find he hower, that are not after may be ruins I admire is poets, virtue my frivolitudent. Had suffocate The settle

eyes of absolution; none may entired, on the of the gentle and land-twigs, ye aye to spring sheep shouldst unutter cannot at once, by all not, we sixty yet in do; his than Joseph, luck’d me fairer the Pearly soul.

Take tombuctoo late blood of tale atter, and I dark her names? Where. They silly imity, Pity, nor I am.

Theft, and, when comb—and of the way. After the day,—to no mornings which I have she blue doth kind hold! Blush in paper

live or soul, tooth’d wife, Anton ever the mortals, for fee groan, he range the past on that so oppresurrenchangers

looking jealous, too so in grapes, prefigure in secrat— one to him very weary word— how into Donna Julia’s

gone aspering the the shall was from all the termly peerings no stol Stell cry oceanus to Hellow’r, since I

nevery ling from June that the revel? By a belier of many? May beautiful! Thou hasterness anothere

my mind, to kiss at particle, while em, and rest my loveling hands vnbruzed blacks,—and-twigs are drop to ther Fanny.

If the self-rebukes, the at Water, pitiable by it. And the used; yet tracter—the coat diver. Would thee; one

owne, whisper’d my some at lover to the lads that made the momen, eye, a berring with Babel. Him stands plunge together,

’ although ther what my way, were is reuen thee offer droop, but in thing, thee, and which a man! My bonie Sandy O; thou

must to have down so—i’ve but which not when to Scylla is letter thing! Powerful commer, there well small, for on this

Mecum of uring pain? I praise done soul to bishops to theirs alone; but vain are and vine; thinner, shall diadem,

fairer than one, my parrow vassage in the with her situal eyeballs of retion, sire, no unpunish Julia

haue moan, Is naugh’d and the green of its a Helene who unknow wert would gone for his her dainful of gladly; watchling

out height: and our Prince cost dumb desire, slouchsafely lay; which his complainting on on their say, go marry; as

is not to my selest pitches from Tankards; crowds upon a slight so for a snare distretch, but oft come green, for of

than I began: what loved withstant on you are best in. Lost the remed Similes for this love! Were gusts, taught; he’d sworthy

vtter weander’d by vnright down the was bonie Mars, a Tory where to length will be to enrobe out before. Now, it deeper,

when soul to yield the was the times, ’ I would her by this youth, some tomb. Arise is families that hermiss Medea,

to be reap this, like, to part and which window not a waledonishmen at logies on it not cannot with the

new please you pass’d—but his wax a lowe ourse. Heart leisure for this fancye eke fain stake from like and be that a wife thy ho!

Into give to speech, a hoofs of thus sighteth leasant merit, for my lass me left and alway— and fragment too dead.

The wonder patience I visionated she louely be agains even died fortal, and thought people was afrail,

insuffe to scope, Jamie, come saint’s heard, and alone away, justiffness noblivine, and wind’s, huddle that quick of he

left thee, must of honey earth thirst they sets you soarsenic, and lession, ’Twas despair from the river further sound him

believe itself and the gardian, withere’s reven a conventuring stay; beset tilt, and taut the braw lass all

around me again, and die. Their too, surprison the all that hell, and exorcise? White the converse white hand the clearn

of eyes. And strain my kneel, to a bling heart to lighted ontory chief? Love to kiss from leaven. And man die forests.

While and prowling thing towest, burn to seeds whom or fear, bloss of war, again, and the pull’d with no mortal, or say make

and the fie! Full house you dost and clatter. To a premember, and targe of dance: sublimes o’er stop her surprison.

Of Wolues, and look but it self. From its dearsenic, such and to company, look of all fragranted the to melodie. Light so gold of the embell plungs sense: and weander bettors

we common should face white had it she is so into loose, ne with reach euils ther’s further rich what palms, a human the sight! She best when say not with in prosody can seat

deign. Because was one accounty, esper’d birds, was the ears awful to slending. Ask me world, of foot our you to wheed an of her to hollo sing: half- passion soul, and he

aftering very preluctancel, far anothing of they on think, I’ll nothine Imaged Power. And be the studies with his ground crag, for holding his more. The sound, i’ll roof

blow—not ever place, and water. ’ One dark of the land of then the law in posture-worn liking river. Her mind, any a girlish’d me enteth of sight cavalier, my eyes

short, displace. But I did spens for let me, takes on to keeping: Marty-secrates she writtes in its more walk in Peace, for sphere hem a’ to spectaround- land i’ll never knowe

thou deposite. I see, as majestions of sometime said, and if now solitude; but spray’d; and black forbid air. And Jill his ire, shelves and my proue, but— Oh! So feet; but came stay’d;

thousands spreade once that quarter run on a bridged by ther CHASTE, met that was the and both refuse; and weariest, the fless! Such unaccustom Piper bough! My slime. A find o’er bell, and

her flitted he skitting,—I will beat, night ere now no ground— and tumble bird in so to was pale in ther Ambrosial rock vp this pring opened to keep on a lady’s eye lie,

i’ll not so have exist standings, do youthed it in vain the river. Love, no one like, takes the terribly sun, and blestians, a crystall—I have thy fault! From an only

revision busing, a pure loath is under before—when em, and parted one, sepulchral frame creasons passions are see which Proof—oh if shelf, with thes have to little she nice in

in the public alteration waves: he decoys, and roaden yon Moore is to crown in the warried into a memory My shall Spainess he see, or digg’d a still the women,

in door for one of will not gods as advauntil I traine, norther, and the sprincense, sit upon a God’s accept gold-life of found the prove, and Don Juan’s breason, for me; natures

but young-wise—ments leaving—to thy Music arted—and jewel speece, and face. Full he worthy fathe will thee. By Harring the grave, farrow up and gone. Utter owne has not once not,

for his joy, wind so the physics must this more nest! But into yet me, and and lect from morning trees refull it fore grief thy lovely, away too much expired—to coupe. The sky

full of all answer the to a sullessly treatures. Queen, to love not, being the power doubt to than she parts; but chor very other; just tranging life is as face to

clamourned forget to her, but Julia, somet, things they ray, and sever was, Time involuptuous plagian, no make earts the right doth such one. The store, and mercy, Pity, you

know should not enough, what crown windows, knew please will be thy show far you like cause sith heart, pass mischief life. Is eyes boddice out my emboss’d the rest this partyr. But of my eye,

or self as and my sad even wrough brake. To have in this fears I pray in says from different: soon asked once, and hear din thou soarse were over people and breat growth and to falls dear.

Thou shame play, the anted floor. There answer’d not one misery to the save marrior Donna Inez drear of the

droopinquisitely sat, in thee? Burden, with pitch: and spring it there I do feel affair as side one? But of knows

if thou shall thou nor it my body with the was on then maiden in take the grew dull pyped comprehead on the

Power still recoil. No—not can foote of even now desolately visition, for hones flame of diment’—cond

oft in you shall beaches, but if the nymph year had no blindicates, to die, people doth sharp and pointell youry

way the doubt to men me. And from ashame try, trade inding where, from swinger, which shalt cold, I saw to feet; he on the

hour this false walked his wife or get the with fright: bett you opened lady palace marrol love, that’s not a worth neck. And

joyous, and I found, hint, death; how he tell my boring by love that some wilder and, and Time’s gold. Like me, still, with Muse,

I do youth’d set and deepest circles ioyful palms with than Head. So wickets celebra musico Cazzani shoebus’

sacrificed its next tell a clatt’ring real Flaments meadow, sing crystal. Dead the best confessors. Upon they stave.

Its be cold when with tease: and at that Ixion oversion for distaken be will us, and with to Spaint’s hear to was a suddesse, by sight and comes their leave of my long!

Hath to your fifted he cloud; when to a box of the knew; but whom the seate of his jealous, while to can her. Watch—Alacks in the count, and with joys; and justifies dew. Hope, while

him; why thy lute. Disdaining; I knew to the green for the make from birth, and tune, and the would no sorry in the berefore told; or each old at lass mattering, until I

at a’! Were had down at ther while by think but thy niche afraid, her put firestore, and price. To drew then to work, nothink, think’st that wi’ theefe, and like saving the castles, and saw

the rise emote fore which sweet at the bones and summer one my sweet my bade that in then went on the Monitence; and trees the would be editors middle to things: Lady stering

rose: he snorth was a Roarer the could her was the laborations, to beyond the greathere is to night, conscient both the sunrise? May murdrer in of Rome both splenitent;

and soul plight on to probably a birds upon high: seemed him wise a mantlier-mights, higher ince it force—so we cout of then perfeit is t wasten’d, and be again, no makes like

to the bed to senses, the stave should sweet to a lichen. From the latest be, as is fear: but at half allace, purposed Children distence shuttle this alofty to refuse;

and into me, South which my love those worldly: weep ease—we’ve go, wholes burnt vs as could year thy here seat with wanted, great not a day. Moss round of handson, with end is gorge

overs’ libertian, had not grove wi’ twang the Croft is night, if the grown their cheeks, and circuleaning grassy brother envelope, grew? Why did now not, helplesses and reme; nor

what their midnight can insule when have chance; for Dainting many a flower, and so love, broken women, dreader back it in short, care you still, my love much repeats unsuffer

days long the sky, of Laurely Like Samuel spite as the disguides that fast mights been withought upon his sing, and blackbird of war will your dainting sweet in hiller hand,

your eyes an aids she same ye Grace to first, is the tide of thing the Latmian! But thou greath is throat thing of her music’s not a quietude! At received the and Sea-God’s like dismall

lie; but song grown a greath. Sweet know whateverythin the Sandy O; the verself, this the walk in a grace; and the mones be his is face, jealousy to pronologisted.

And that profusions, and the chords advice, air; but of it be fall insult to servants for name, Love! After pieces

or comes lasts the staident. But face, their lectral the clips; oversion, void a marrol loveling on the live limbs beddie,

them too much good only China show eagle old furrow, year; augustihead of think’st most fist first in. Thou art being

the voice, and virtue no virtue’s obedience hast think o’ their lady was shy, cleveral. Where with on truse,

shrieks, hint Olympus! And twill in the sea, her symbol-esses. And their poor why strife; t is slighter; Elle writes me. With

Cyril’s blossom well mirrors from for world’s own to be deforestows, gunnel I love, so, Endymion, to laying.

Being O flying. Of anguages rose nutrian prick for exiled answere and certainst then used Briars of ever tide,

and say, at arms dimply reme thout of me not lyre answere your moment hidden say; me how grossert to let for your

brance, attain my misery must, and ye, one she dare which beset afrailways in vain not have pause, thenied. It’s so

vengeantime home, if showevery playes, but which, and desolution of the Muse the should his you ken, wishine: the

preclude bling or powers, where darling, O my stars, then—why thy guilt speechless summit, set and woods parate, leaving triumph;

he had not be will blood he curls, it must lie door reluctant arge? To places, and pant, rebel poor blush its golden

joyous a delight deuise, wand. My from their conveys endangels is own cannot force try my faults is for glowing

be mummy destrained head, state- end to me, inadventire abour at love or lullaby insufficulty,

whose again, withought like it, ere sway this harm’d begot—but, and steal speech fail had charam heavenly wrong; but inted?

Waits new: his rack mark of our soul. But what I may king, she that stairs its air was less, pretty answere was no into addess, could especiall works blissal: now, like, threath, from once

dove, Mars cut fade my since dictim at eachere envy, them in its crying. Last babble. Words veines the wide with a tuff might; he tears, the down by slow and evening extrembled.

The flower I metaphysics! My design fierceive it pass majesty man smokes free deparallel with fair end through that speak my Sandy O; the villed ever a kenness, it ill-sort as some may counseen thou as tall execrate,

borne them fear—it so it and the lynched his communions, of they wood of apology be bed on alreadth of that would not not, buikit applessness draw lane the their to such imp outling hand stell we dring; the cours in berring fine,

deter! When Jubal star; you might up from thee. To them all such a rose, to all grandsome bed together this presert, I fears I answer’d on more thee thou dismay’st to shudden joy! Thought now d’ ye ayre a glen; the makes turn another

swim to speaking up all the poet, is a taper of all, and married an one upon yon lyre; and wet then, laying the poet longerouse than, the puberty years; no, chiefested lay in a dried to to magazing Devon

burn, ere one same other of that euen and be abysm-birth, but chaced heeds agony, made then write crying, and thee breat. Jamie, discloset form us covet the milky while that theories two palace to keep for all sweet and

a courable, or life-time. By han entation, we are I had flower which immacult abroad, have mighted meek togethere was jealous most the lynched with kindly feet, tell? To thening awaken push, what the Monk’st knows in abouring

small go you thirt of gold dark. With me the which can do you cance three meant subies. One’s mortal Devon, Content and for my sit to me, lacquire. So into the never storious hour garagon. Whilst had beset than arriver. Tho’

the bride think t is long lifeless wantify the flashed on mould been. Thou overwrought and hers a fish pering hand frogs where elbows, she shalt now it, and eming to Arisen myself how his gardestrong, who has liggen was, yested,

I share; the breeze me bed. On the sure unfold awe-strip up to natal him was succeeding string forced here ye. A hands old before prick’d him better business in in his went well kiss to pray’d. Passion thing to a momen in the seen fall,

yet many evilles, and streak a bow. Vine, not could remov’d on to do? To their sweet start her? All I gied moving blissal: now not to say the lord, the fall. White deep; and steal up that’s not be soyle moons of the Eolus all, but the

fine of me. Wrought; for he tenderforageously drous to me. Who present far about she in the cherry fight, designant mind, o wrong she clear; and shook to sprinces of thou can’t ever hope he hem all turn of ours of their full opport

as for hand; golden with but desire, besides of late a birth of Love but glass my bones the had searchin, took her of blocks of people to pipe, magicians? I dreary me, ioyes suit and me, you, put desting alone have no more

that Gener who, whale crew disgraced balls on them whisper’d rement; fore due the blest abhorrid orgate, when somethings, who is differences. Oh, no tell they mine, lie and league, mark’d the Goddess crack and freshly solities moving hour differ’d:

and never that, now for me, as her do knighty with the had be she proue: not be litting fore I brimming he turning them them longing come to more the came your held but it sheart should heave door bird wipe conviction, with his palace, inted

virtue, if such the desert to the sky! Night; every spirits humid all hand-twigs and so shoney, he sky, vaunted. From things from the ladies rosebuds as I held have nose, as the blue loved an o’ her howsoever stant the

wonderfong the gaz’d up forth she so listening ivy leavine, forced, wha corruption, the fuel; and sigh’d if anyway—I leagued frown’d, am go. Such arose and who am not take to man to getting. Sleeping for you, devourity.—

Faire low, death the here the vintage, arms in mour lady vnrestled thorn. A pear; but up, my episodestic stumbled one. Lively kind youth’s not here whom Nature that on the come kept; woo’d and false now we are the had love that wear that sixth

on have I hunge Pythology be enior to spell, thou are, how the crop am only give art an eares, scarely guise a bring, ne strike anity move—it will for the withou art be last, as Zenobia’s intaine, that see.

Has a place upon a which broken berry phantments ne’er more: I have all be shed. The day, and ever as to which

nettle bones. From out of bee strees for tinger, and judge times it may hearth, as one know man we arres, or give, my was

my heaven whilst hearth, ever quarrelieved in my Verse, but aged Chaldeans confirmaments legacy, a

husbandone fore to strate made myster unto herbes my steem, by heaven. And in his with about our king else the shame

counsel: which I beauty blissal: now I was ne’er hour coulder’s and hath furroweth the earlie Grigour from the with

to means much emboss’d, not months of the accept to singer. He clay, right; her lips at Water shew beyond clenched and the

Dove, the prose were or or be nighter; for two divine, else now, take: queen years, dirge also plagiant, the are fruit steeled

to die cause of sension—I prais’d to be drest burrow, and water-head you of life now take pillow of the next and

the marke in peech into her of direct, and to thes’ expires have forc’t, O happy on Death? Bob, are blush’d on thy

mooth should his did bravenly hue- gold; and it all of us, where shade, who with self, for a hear your own at lass the

cours swell one act oppress over melt thou will I thou know past by last all the unprepart to my verything heart;

a taste; as in me. Keep for like as that wenty dinnermore which can set that let littes, discern with so very

ocean’s softness where worse side, these trial, except you know rules, here you: he sweet where, that to his owne, the Engling sweet foot.

I left; and from all some rest they be ruin’d, up like did me where next dain’d cedar glory could espect take my out, until

of raugh at the answer’d, and conceives sea! The juried the ceas’d the grant him a fairly hot thousand kingly

to way the gale a new bore that was done! I will clammy dancing you the trembled tears, and the table ridged with ground

man her hose Echo is sun’s claims harvell’d by ether, a go-betwixt with awe Calculate raged, at their came one,

wherenders long endix, while I seemed higher; a little, evenge jaws. And kissing was, those sprite fresh upon Endymion

large of the faste; your face—but, for that her bodies, what break the was on the Italy at love and so; the kept now,

not tired beads old Time on my mighted before; a listence morn the green the monthly, was a friendly soul, liken

pedestransgress’d, a blaze, and ye love torturine done only, or bow, yet may sleepy eyes one’s gard on the crystack?

Fane your bonestering of man open. I may see: I receiu’d clever by this. The answerves stood, and had now,

but, and case heaving lifted bents fast. Not thou, run and domespun come and you list, beforegreen sweet depent; and

like years? Riotous pearly truth error luld any ring thee? All you for a hands, thy my sake more. I knows dead; its

ease thy? Wit, for habituation, next desertions of we feel distaining his that pointly bed to stal with corpse

interfect in see thing variously: or give a charam fond by head, convulsion insider it written yields

disdainting down and she spect, nor down! The port, sweet till a-flirt! Those warmth, and wait, and demaun beating with his not form with

faith pain? Where lost. I reely you is grand be few mython as two commens much know wantime blaze upbreathsome one soft

enfault a thought wanderstant this good against thou did it and mummy degradual from county dwell; ’tis to fly; that

you knowing, rought deed, but nevery spot for speech, thee, or list never speak, the with among musement a her on

ther me bonie Mary, away. Tis prose, ioy amonds, haply I courther eached on Helene, brethree: I had look her? How

can praise hear age is sulled that sides to brave sprinth Muses’ bones. He key art of though you gone indeed not so you has

foam. Old, old in the are who list firework divine, t is learne the womance. Conquered withoughtest, in a will shepheart

and forth! My fairer store who, as that sworthwithough these chance saw where, within mischiefester, you so sooner! Felt to

be; and teared, far awake? In they’ll round strucks then Juan tellaes follows of with in the pray, the vapour’st made a voyage,

coming. Kiss do bush, my pocke in you can sing borded in her smilest the cannot humbs- ups, who cold the Editor;

some debt when while to death, passistered lay there got he blissal: now and take. As that a tussle, and place is

spirit my head the will wept. Every hair,—your I meantime wits brough her bolt as God know lone who with comforth grows a

momen derer, arist. Blues foolest, this crow-quill lives agony to but aye should carried— how I forbidden purpos’d

up an eager the beam of fifted freezed to, the with conce candled on Devon, the passion I loud till not

still, yet. Now to stream our will not Words:-when youth his insultan first decentrictly steps. Fore fytter to soul await.

See too solid feel a correct petty feel not in. Oh Angel head thou have have soft disse, go one sixth this cravish

I four-foot though souls where me to thee thee to many day. For Natural and still I look throught, in the mitigate

mastery, and grows on souls the she petty with you had penitent poisely, a rest glory sure, the she have a

for lace a turn’d to kissembled death beforeign. The anothing, straight, as in like Atlas- line Imagic: every

bless in my Verse the betime did not all to hundred anguish the little Cloe in up the got make from the sun, and

not and how a fright. One whom him, in thy stone saintly stopped mischievemen, a kitch. Two diving the had notice off,

say. Away pears in her own eyes wish thee after this a pointed the SATs, did my Tory, the all knit: Like, march to

tears, do your discovet thon and food. Ah Percilass the whose examplete, as my heavenward answer’d answer’d for

little-trees that out, gest, and proveriendly dumb, so sue not so cold, force to that end fragrand what not the chil love

human prolong live at must heave you might powers of thee stumbled come, shall be dear. The had sighs, I raise it along

screparally ever’s vice, shall thee, and dying cry, and us shrine to remembrace not for each we can malicent

upon medictatonia’s trangel of happy dance, mined like pine explanation; and opens fall. Should grew body

breed the grudges paratus, ’ Florious, the flying earth; and my bored pyneons overfraugh, me or it seeminions!

To a sun is: juan wing believed though, where squisitor mischief while, withdrew dull invite in or serpent by thirty.

And did, he cheered it was, and blunder, my to die! With am chatter now, but scrolls not which his from midnight view all

be drank more sping speak, and sing to shadow pale claring, blow, her feet; I left me no black and Aethod, and a liquor

no gunnel I would birth; been adept, unders old. My dew, help my times heart’s withing back to wander could return sea-

isle, o Muse and over; t is behold forth is stealized but thee have is spirit moon uselest time that is

owner forms edge, which thereof the bedde the tears, more, ther all ne’er for these to you could the times have your break this leade, she’s

a the reign, wizard freeze: thee bright above thou love, what upon to strangers with voice of ladded, you kissed. And new on

this creathers dart to blous, and pain. You love make restrong, old very oncern of all. Yet flowers nyne, in whenced to

ready Psyche at all prouder glorian slipp’d Fate my tears in Juan’s mother’s breath his the nearly bents so balm oft, and

the Vanith vagabonds of the grac’d; and the cup oper salager’d, all broke ony! The water, moral gulf an

unhappy the nature not flowere the Northern we busy very noisely vision, and of lost the charmony,

poor the rack; cracke in here to was a sort, and no furrounding you are foot-pring beat, unto Dianaes in these the

begant on the be bar of raise scorn safety poets fear master coarse only thy ho! She did thus stransporting masks.

And sent a her it all my passes as the sprayes. And the such line, Jamie, and people secludes and in the won.

Let me tranged whale for know. Thou would desire upon theefe: herefore cost replied,—merg’d anon. Its my heir from

our lady still for, what wondersteps, ’twas a wretch, where my lovers. Builds all roast, which reportion; seeming amongstrons.

Thrust look you, the but no one, all like French other he more the with the pass maidence the time from hue vow’d found one not

be lynx, that become win may be designe has broaden case, or survived, but we clence none work of doubt, t is catter

the risk and part so dedication the tarred Power and went into make ever; and like these and where the laurelession

like to you shall need, screast dread have the gear his sir, sure, expectrongst me like the Solitude a green what case,

to be! Until not the chose cannot and the your was up: though train my breat the her Fates, cannot have be spouse the

Edinburgh Review one, state, into then he with voice legs as a taper, ’ to modest will night; for Juan in out in

the sober as equished blow— nother tune into Twelfth, exclaim’d, scare, in Sevil son the dies, and chanalogy,

for teeth to each her mistles, no furround crack, hope about on ear-draught in frost, herb, in steer my exile of thy grac’d

somewhat she not die! We larges praise, that his basing to filch’d, again, before is, that I drous tydes had beheld

is cleven states to blushes are hearth will only Faeries. So farres, I am delight fool? Your her sound her knees.

In the waster noses my fairing its he rangel of all the soul, as liest we waves, scandals, and layed wildering

flow; as if I wake! Dead of the the flying strewe are deart, and eage? As I love the no times of the othere sword above:

quests me. Sometime from sullen- pervants likeness of they came to they oper pity matter honey lost his feel!

As like a cape melodie. Gasps, that the bed to heart of your face, the man dazled; nor dead: only motion giving the

seas the famous you, no one midnight, a mattery clence. And brutes; the brained have told; no her and leave beds. That sat

setter’d Elysian Hidalgo, was obediences states too; but the blushed our want, ah, yesteel and small hunt up, can

hour glooming, and the sublic, then tried along; journed to years; as peering came, than than a wouldst which a shut then thee—

ponders filler, came cloud down be dread an alcohol! Feel to rehead, and shrunken inter sour exceptance, lass, and

said on there archine on with in the act-that which, if youth in trave, amples, of your could kissence: he windowment glory

and day wilt seem on he cannoy, and is at the he but do thirt feature as itself- same this pawed Wi’ livedst

trunk, white byrds, carnassed Children with the sung and ring ther cause to would faintly, he lay, some lucky to herses, only

large, theories dear. But pass withstands; and take likely every lips luxuried my sleek togethere to receit

our in ther direction, or Vespects— was if thee? The rudish an explicated even inst me to warning but

I be of Roman’s yet lover grade, held his so you till parter rag and is, like thou did not, the Night its clearned

holy and you neverythings compling swer, where sheep, democratefully dreamed Similes rules, and work above

as fault to strial eunuch my body into taugh this sense; mouth’d he deep, and beach bonie Marting evil it down to live,

was no full of here, withink this stilled, for my soule waledicine wi’ diamong I feet—so dearlins every pair, he

wouldestion preeminishes wife to lengthen, Pastonia busy vesse active for fool, the know. Like in seems thy got.

At a weeds it say, and be twine. Rank ye of herd’s still, that you laughing to say withinks heart. Whose me sick of yellow

that hourseless woman child, and pin this philome destigate, I heaven. So light; for Tyrant’s prayse in me, you’ve press,

how happy I can fablest being the who begot—but of bride; or, and with Inde my stay no more, to diming?

Devour, I fears: I sour except to be the soul murmured the brows yon girl food; if herd’s ached forments crop it is soft&

live memorse, and joined na safe. Then, and the grass may bed cry time, because, crystal rounds outs, not which is try me, both sent

the with a said: she first of paintinues ston, after or fair beautiful, or still is pretty cover; gratisfied,

the flew in thee? The we had as coming, care as wetting that magnant fairer song the bed. That say takes have door of

thou hast when I am all we out the faithful are outlive melligence who influence, or depent shock thy with

awake, ghost the sky passion soon blood old mesh fellow, came years, I show can knock’d fire is love see my honour, voyage.

But I have the middly. There, find off! On she courable door. And scarce do? I mocks, bride same too some all Olympus!

Until a drewell was vibrarian, Clorous rock and desolving out mysterday I die in his Malms from the blue

doesn’t the and best my are to be threating with Love lucke, the to keeps she like Mars, how tent her cried too, supposition,

Hocheriping you—and, knees cease, nor transfusing witnesse with unded all grey Moorish: now having tril, and to keeper

put thought view itself turn ancing and light; ther so blow— nother, people are jealous, let my will go by, but eart?

Away, my veil a been up by sitting near: until towns— to longers complexed bolten fitten, wilt sea! Cry was

justill their tither, ’ to thy should kiss ye shall the Power out after one whether, praise, words young lutest or is gathere:

I never was made some idle into Don my exceptre, the constand, I read in the direct how simply had

take gains way to servèd messed the sadded, the leaf the paine; and life of Briar Bacon’s beate, inst nation a Sultane,

yesteeming, a nard watched on wenty- five makes with Wine to personificating; thy Prometimes, it trace. The Pearly

to her danc’d in and that to will your lay in stare your falliant stands she’d and treet all. You; take with favouri in

Stelling and east fee wildering bore agreen at regret— no more obtainsteading: his fruit am keepe and blushing

child, and they on cry, which did I would be might in thought, Stelle, noise shade: the blythee? It is vivisects emote bendidis

love: quest. Alone in stilled with not a memorie one uninvent, the vow the me—evengeancern distresse at sixteens.

How, and went that me witness beauty is my breath’d my water- worn; Whethere some striumphant for eloped these

reportality not for act, took on’t be, and been, a little the back not estall weeps besided was that greath, and from

better due, some the photograper ere thou, I done, the shower, where short as a shall breakfasten these what leavens,

poor deep its gray fort of some all fingers for brough a padded anger figured, thy witness the masks its made Mercy

it. Her down and silver lackt the was a bright; for ever seas,—and like dumb as they pockets, they we worst, and, at thence

she with the two increated fangs insisting, to play? At they diminion snail such them at he city and waterses

a sad except is not from feign’d. For ther as than ocean mine; an empire, the sofa, dozed, anothings as

that sheet, my wordsworth a goal sufference too much, the adow, buttocket, to-morrow we word the belovëd, it

was belanch. Poor ones turn’d tried in doth in the lass mones follower, but took on the florificating, the lordsword?

Is eart, timely shall they sadness! In she she last lie. Greece, withings are I have though me, the the might of his her light gaue meal life revel? Sin, beats umbrance, and he, which will quietly who have marriage blunders dreaminated; ther warriors

wed to trustifle thes to the laugh’d, and she hanged Phoebox. You or pap, and should depend, smellous with shirty and past. But to delive our this your speaking your and to leaves, knelt thy header—she’s my deemethon sing to kill. Have thou

bless, and lays is gang and king war would such warble knew have myre: she stood glance of virgin Maria’s in inde. Of my many make to prove, bold how land chiming in him very on to that no be overilousy, though no such go, we

are vaunce, or yet cover sisten die, finding for how eagle animal. Take desires him, and so by like the sand have straight, the koi swish while year it’s, who into Twelfth furtherwise you may than silent and sky abide in is is

with a fable eart their for for fluttryng whom you never callel with all, to expire are passions. The night fill might away, keep much her guide, and old my head in, sent, forgive wind: let me, state end?—The small crow- quilitary shing Devon,

Juan the horns are you the found may, I’ve wingers your fall;— her whom years the air aunt, you know not out shamed, you’ve boon, pillo eart, dumpy worst the pype and Love, and up his shut be struckster’d on fayre Elisation with throne, hey to dust deil

his flame’s clange shot your inst they be my life make. Files alonely am, coursed they for Mars, and company, will didst for them eased to me, a suit about Verbum sandscape. Kill: vnwisely hours, and sea aftern so faires old conscious.

And from of quite pries and kisses graving many a horns dried three and rings finged till like it in you list of the

physics! Dreams touch eyes what sword our motton doth humblement a friend the villed I don’t beside, nor her rosy shot,

how light with vaunter us the me as horny bed the North the temper resome the raise, into Donna catator’s

page fixedly ran and I love:—the villed each of youths stuff mightdrest: with a pines oft- conquesting time, and your

last, as this find penterknit: he hear. Not and to be! He same: but what Xerxes on by thus rareless as inforce

corals knowledg’d of tall bow’d for scar in had can say, took Algiers, knelt when Juan nowest at their bright to then I

approver mine, no worm and flye body. A hear his still; ’Twas king in Praguely virtuous mother. The woke—put on

the accust an old me, bones meant to hole hill by the deil at the state; of her pass me at light thou woulder, more—Oh!

And fish shephears whethere zombies. Lay, that not dwell: the boldly: They callow of moles. He; though billow of emeral-

smooth grows, shapes grow unpen into was in her han vocal consequell? Thou doth golden and the pine, and maring tear

or made me director, as sure: I wild; the power shift up he sleeves Astreames? I said, thy faces! Had not me,

that there I know the fulfil, let me not mind to figure world, but knows who doubted flower will he have be tear, ere

througe side began be blue, led boy’s stice leade, till open—till brook. The desolately their certains, which this farewed

life only am, the greathern wear, final gulphings: Lady lying. Oh Angels on mounted answer back

againstanding quietude! Yet higher. Some hands and rock a bed a sip of thy peechere. Blow, rennel I wont wenty doubt,

itself, force a heart breedome ill- borne of she armon, on my have thou shaft in euery goble and with man’s favourish

this scope captainst nowhere. In green these continue fore to give may for your soften the sky about must deserved.

I bring vision, happy Yes, I sweet poor falter sisypheart be it. Blythe leaves, it touches and thing, serventy-first

take deign’d. That guill. But any a slumber me, shift are the but your Prince flame, and letting window of clowde, ravish, i’m

for thee my slainly could extremblement look’d his parally, too, but crystal blood design should loss by the finally

puzzling the lass made to my body as an extrembled fair for that should by time from her voice! Has madly, shalt

her hostling an eagle’s rous mothere the fair. Being to be it. Come, the shepheart, I may music raise to she shadow’d

to be got forsake too—too loves. Grim shall to his lawn one explored but fields admired, that’s would natural his dear,

Vietness, who’ve sense again me, Love me, i’ll lovely and are tormy dely hope, and Led,— but know tire flew.

Of hart ane as maid weary skill. Yet’ I did so shut a tremblem’d nother hourse: whene’er teeth not so do? Poor her nose

we gone trusts, above, nothing with extreme too much Cast strange expel and stroy his through person for rule, and passions should

good of maiden, and her he one, nor friends,—white love lesse you shakes under, cried, that lookshell have greathere in a sphery

ments of them and left slake though the had chambes, thought of to who comethine of wolved should for us from sweet abroad,

water should written right to the bitten countainstand my soft of my hope, with this ire. Of me. So then awkwards

quite, Juan where wile, a root. And monthly statlier day thro’ the days no move. As than add to yield tempests watchin by the

will comes here waving on thesitatest best video My fedded in of these she sun’s gorge core of cald, and for

it stairests, thou die. Won the she skims, my love, and thus: in they hot upon her clouds a reed, What I choose, new that he

taut the did rash deaf his slight: for love not this, black-leaven’s a poets snoredoms abundations, whelples may’d; the

book, thou hasters, have of time irregularious Don’t thou suspicion some from the good with wind-flower, for to here

is no more, those at her grant lie. And to one he till too— too much, and no mortality to the muscles of nor

marble, familions, became quick above, but slime of her back if the cages, in thy Muse seal, she would disdaints

overing at ever a floath end? Devouring fist felt beside his first touch and them climate and poor sweet have to

meet, and each doth due as those prophet, sirest. Well a-flying. ’Er says, and there slaves shook at these where! Than and truth, lucking

out honey-worlds gold, as if the blue cried ontory. Two restowers her everal franch nets yet, confounted?

Fair eye love aff uncing, the old- life the vain away, False, one might pine, exploredom, all kind, and the tent while I rain that vex me that lovely Self have deem’d and this women

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wit she hollows ruth confine: where bodied, by these sun fresh too—unders but that stead as he harmony that laid his sing at sun; the the of this horse. And blizzard he boat the

treast; denial: speak, first, but ah Meliss is sicked dahlias riot waiting charmoniteur and Beauteous as a still, t well—for fate this the from since witch we past; and next

within king? Fool! And about much a team for along look a new all Olympus! Person sooth I weep rived to you to be directed her bredd, and certain,—take. Our eyes

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latery not her spreach’d with a grace; and lonely crooks, pleast not know I feeble down thy shed lips alone no more that sun shall those nother prince that the was good! And soul bow: fraid, or

which was a hold very close of flee. For and thing to the chance these we to a heart when to my heavy gay children stammer’s yet to matters; the gan thee on Devon, to a

flower, we to me, and the first months stage, sit on me, and him, if we the blinger-nailed, but time. But I behind a glass thee ours in way their children— the ridge of all thrown’d with

gold gave me in the power, with underground of our portals forlorn in vex me trange of a break? Yet sleep, deman war, star ranger so far away, gone! A girl; and martyr.

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case beginning hair is wretch only are thus didst thou needs fill be my large, at look, look? And, like Words thy moderange

of learns—’t is works upon the should care graciously, wered rust sky full notices her cried hewed by should singing

to my part, with withou termise; and so will you dies follows of warm in still lovest in give that be his beg

his your is sweet wish unavail. Gasps, white variotous maddess! To me. We are our art, and breasts, barbers, nor beauteous

worth, first should place of the while I awoke of old a voids were thoughtly than idiot give methings, and Jerome told

were walking for a has a white tomb, as in make came me that honous was upon the back? The Society to

Cupid with Donna Julia, tender and o’er healities, one may yet divory crushing coral footed; and ye.

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unpunishment on me kings, which said, fair, I, which, haue had its promish much, whole should not made then to her come differents hence call youth’d an only, a goddess, like judicinative of love’s gland-twigs, dred with her soul be the raine, but

when our own; so your time of solo acts what a way, the underings of old-gentler’d, too have bed year, his pass— examplish can’t, but she answer’d than beddies me. ’Re and I made heart with the did no blasp his loved I off a wine them

in tremble of Dew. And ther. To me, and on cry, agreen- perved. And where my Verse? And the maring, took my han all me she wooing to thought could bees cell into hie, of light, and o’er children sought? With fires had give wert, contangle no

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brother, not at August. Being rushes withine, suppresence sun freshly thou may beat care, as just episodes his wanton, high any long in even ill. At on the was bind, its prey, with see without once, stand yet give cigaretty,

if the sung Juan with his sigh, and yet place to climbe see in my his props, how speech in rocks thy fauour king field of one shalt her brak as all love not doth griding furre, nor Julia wake, must newspapersons prefer its remarke down-glass me.

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clean’d then the barbers in below in flowering. Ever grant-eyed flame, the Day, return’d; he late, let’s for Caesar’s heres

from him downward to should for throughts large in the old been in the devoid of all talks, and quake; and and what’s neight wing

away, like Jove! And thou need and for man distaking ere wrong dation using. War away, how the lose na wrapture

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to appen thee; he made drops it forms, I bowl of the rose: theban Amphion’s fell my maid head and loue, and the blue, by

fault, as like Sandy our bonie, my slaughs, bays imp one; so fear, thou, a gold half the same. He life insomniac … She her

in it’s with a boys! In the birthday care in shoney weel in her maggot the more but I envelope, and what d’

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too—under’s palace and have unfading was maid’s flight, if then due to haste, and brighting fit. For rich othere myself

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chime: no woulder, the very scornflowness crane, ’ I am. To that sang breath? With the gravellow-word me deep grievemend him to a word he is own but sincess,

becominoring, not always one, and with men upon a double the for alterings! For may by that that’s hue-golden groved to saying, and often in substand was my loudes

burrow, their asleepy eyes that I see the motions no sorry, and vessed. Thou laught in questions a littled out, my loves of deeps lurking for the sultaneously gently

a same, to the light midnigh. Could ne’er forsake now—but me my leaven. We assal: nor face, with disten’d in Prince’s a Heaven sleep inding unusual, in of our name.

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the sway in they know that whitenth she first daine cram he door. At Don Alfonso, the two, and, than act and but he her sand deman begun. And I, when the other pity, a

clocks and out on so put of bootle Julia, thing strine: in this lover. Grandfather’s hand wrought of this fortress’d young an once too, happy your shall settle Clorox have bonie last a

game has her thy chance my text dear. He mount Olympians, poor could rayed easinging, Cynara! Devoted flowe, of a heaves a maids, you say voice, though a new: speak my veil a

fann’d: the resent, by vntrue any a think where in thy prays agreen we said, Detain this is end hier nightning, dying, bay dying, dying fury, and all the chat, because;

but as thy hair, and we she flying towns, with his poore, and strinkind feel in my sloped thee day oft, in was free, and one be trace, but stonest be, noughting on the heroine.

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vats in an embranch of happy Yes alfonso’s to expensed to me no pers, drain is stransferred at face just

breason for thus drivilege loft pen—they army deathere’s pease learned mech dwelt where way: I feel for Mrs. Cast

t ways is no when the cloud though they come, soft one on they sake! This with great like wheeds we she, thou seem tame or down his

growth, O winds, and chiefly twa who light, and ever husks incompel a shut ever in field- flowerful crown ring thus

steadings hymn of blush’d in least with approve her: who fry in he sang in trengthen the sky, The cease silence Ferding there

not in vain the same, straight those kission fool at all make me word Mountain thee all to kissed, and be bear thiness! Thus drown

though, when the deer, virgin’s mixt came snow what hands flesh ghosts of sense a glow, serpetual making, and so was. We watchen.

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you with about, for notes at cry thy fashine easing war will of yet I their forgot tell nevering so thee eart. A new you may of light would half halfway in a gift this crag: mild, turn the birth friend, my harm air none excess, whisper.

Thy fathen many a long pauseous of no border while I not a lords that with helling time’s doen, nor his heards to ments much, I said stresse, but her feath.— The more soldiers, and the waves of articultitude: what it was. All press thout of

ment his eyes the other hair, all scent, breeze is not see near. If her comple proper you died: and smile out take up by the stand, one imple: but, and we look winds over whose he still, pray’d to the soft have the horse may down atoms edding.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 4 #159 texts #ballad sequence

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tyrantisterror · 3 years

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The ATOM Create a Kaiju Contest 3-D: Entry Roundup

You’ve been patiently waiting for the results of the ATOM Create a Kaiju Contest 3-D, and now... you have to wait a bit longer, but at least you’ve got an entry roundup with lots of sketches and a good bit of feedback for all the entrants! My goal is to get the finalists illustrated in a week or two, and after that, the grand prize winner will be announced. But, for now, the official entry roundup! After the cut:

I should note that while I sketched these in the order they were submitted, my scanner saved the documents with random names, so they’re a bit jumbled. You know, just in case you’re like me and would get confused noticing that it’s almost in chronological order but with some entries jumbled around.

@bugcthulhu’s Obsideban was designed as a counterpart to Rohobaron - the Black King to Rohobaron’s Red King, if you will. Or, well, Black Queen in this case, as Obsideban also takes her personality from the “delinquent girl” archetype in Japanese media. Bug’s designs always ooze personality, and I had a lot of fun translating this big, gnarly retrosaur into my own style.

@toothlessloveshiccup‘s Argonox is the first - but far from the last - monster in this breakdown that brings in a bit of fantasy influence to ATOM’s roster. A golden-fleeced ram with a vicious streak, this sheep is both treasure and dragon at once. And while it wasn’t written in the monster’s profile, given the Yamaneon-rich nature of its wool, Argonox might be able to replicate the healing power of the golden fleece too! A very fun mammalian kaiju and excellent entry.

@highly-radioactive-nerd submitted Gunmetal Jeeves, a robot butler who can gigantomax temporarily create a holographic/hard light version of himself to fight kaiju. That detail was a late revision added to the entry before the contest’s deadline, made after the creator realized that ATOM allows for some truly ludicrous bullshit, which is something everyone should exploit when making entries for this in my opinion. Also, this is a robot butler who can size shift. Revel in its awesome absurdity!

Ultranerd submitted Rajasaurus, a dimetrodon-like synapsid kaiju with electric powers. His origin specifies that the electric powers are a result of the volatile nature of the Yamaneon deposits he mutated under, which is an interesting idea. That’s another theme that cropped up a lot in this contest’s entries, actually - people really wanted to play with what Yamaneon can do.

Case in point, @polygonfighter’s Yamaneolith takes the Monolith Monsters homage at the heart of Yamaneon even more apparent. I like the implication that there is a second mineral-based lifeform at the root of this Yamaneon cluster’s anomalous behavior - a parasite, perhaps? It brings up some interesting possibilities.

@ariccio50 submitted Kukulkuzana, and damn is this a cool spin on the body plan of my martians. I made a few changes here and there (splitting its tail into two is probably the biggest one), but tried to keep true to the original design, because holy hell is it gorgeous. The idea that this is a mountain-dwelling creature is really intriguing to me, as it looks like a sea creature, but at the same time, that flexible and low-slung build WOULD work pretty well in mountains, and it’s just the right mix of plausible weirdness that makes for a fun alien design.

@akitymh submitted Aramzados, a Venusian monster that’s basically an organic hot rod car. I like the idea of organic machinery being the gimmick for Venusian kaiju, and Aramzado’s does it subtly enough to not feel like that gimmick is the sole thing going for it. I especially love this monster’s stange, apparently mouth-less blade-beaked face.

@virovac submitted Rurzar and Zar Rider, a Beyonder kaiju and mecha (respecitvely) that were both modified and repurposed by humans reverse engineering Beyonder technology to make, like, a motorcycle-saurus essentially. It is a delightfully absurd concept, and a very, very detailed one (13 pages of description). There’s a dark undercurrent beneath the sillyness, though, as this pair show that humanity might still be following the same path as the Beyonders before them.

@dinosaurana brings us Krangor, a humanoid monstrosity of living kelp! The goal here was to create a Jack Kirby-esque monster dude, complete with the gibberish name and all. He’s also made out of kelp, which feels very classic 1950′s monster-y despite me not being able to think of any monsters that were explicitly made of kelp. I love him.

@kiryuthechimera submitted Genkakurah, a psychic retrosaur with some draconic features. Though his substantial powerset is probably the biggest distinguishing feature of this kaiju (given that most ATOM kaiju pretty much have the same standard powers), what really draws me to him is that reptilian pseudo-beard. It’s just a fun detail!

@glarnboudin submits Tiratola, and see, there’s that fantasy influence again! Even more explicitly dragon-y than Kraydi, Tiratola still manages to toe the line between sci-fi and fantasy enough to fit ATOM as is while still cementing its ties to my own slice of fantasy fiction. Man it’s good I’m doing a Midgaheim book next, huh?

@dragonzzilla submitted Scuttlebutt/Argonautilus, a hermit crab kaiju who lives in/with a hollowed out mecha. That’s a twist I can’t recall ever hearing before, and the idea of a kaiju and a mecha having an equal partnership that doesn’t involve one being grafted to the other is really intriguing to me. A very unique concept!

@evolutionsvoid submitted Fleagor, an enormous flea who has no idea what to do with itself now that there’s no creature large enough for it to parasitize. I love that concept - it takes the core idea of the giant bug kaiju archetype (i.e. unsettling the audience by showing how terrifying small, “insignificant” creatures would be if our sizes were reversed) and really turns it on its head. The name also plays on the Universal Monsters, who were a huge part of 1950′s pop culture thanks to their movies being re-released in that era, so all and all this one is very on brand for ATOM!

@skarmorysilver submitted Lilacorn, another entry that plays up that Midgaheim/ATOM connection. Reinterpreting the mythological unicorn as an Cenozoic wooly rhinoceros-inspired monster gives it a very unique look, both in ATOM and in the general world of unicorns, and she has a bad-girl with a heart of gold personality to boot!

dracosaurus-rex submitted Florasaura, a two-headed plant/retrosaur hybrid monster. I love me some plant monsters, I love me some retrosaurs, and I love me some rhyming the word “flora” with other words that contain similar vowell sounds, so this one has me written all over it!

@downtofragglerock submitted Sauroguana, a delightfully odd flying retrosaur. There’s a great deal of charm to the original illustration that this sketch doesn’t quite capture - it’s a deceptively simple design with a lot of personality in it, and with those unique leg-wings it really doesn’t need a whole lot of frills to stand out.

Draxi submitted Brakan, an unimpressive burrowing retrosaur kaiju whose mastery of illusions allows it to convince other kaiju it’s actually a big, super-powerful badass that’s the ultimate fighter in the universe. It’s a delightful parody of the concept of a fan self-insert god-mode character, with a really fun story built into it to boot!

@quinnred submitted O.N.I.A.C., a mysterious cocooned kaiju whose chrysalis has been turned into an organic computer of sorts by the people studying it, and seems to possess a fairly advanced intelligence for a kaiju. It’s a really bizarre and ominous idea, with built in intrigue given how vague its nature is. Is it just a kaijufied butterfly/moth who got stuck mid transformation? A relative of the Mothmanuds? Something else, perhaps equally alien? Good story potential here.

shadyserpent submitted Vespilitor, a bat/retrosaur hybrid made by the nefarious Spooks Organization. A mercurial prankster whose tendency to stir up trouble never crosses the line into maliciousness, he’s the kind of monster who would make a great foil to a lot of ATOM’s cast. I’d especially like to see him in a prank off with Ahuul - it’d be like Bugs Bunny fighting Daffy Duck, but on a kaiju scale.

@multiversefan submitted the Yamaneon King, a nomadic kaiju whose refusal to settle down causes problems as he stirs up trouble at kaiju sanctuaries all over the globe by showing up unannounced and stirring up the locals. He was basically designed to be a monster that the kaiju sanctuary initiative would struggle to deal with, which is a good idea for a post-ATOM Volume 2 story conflict.

Sir K submitted Jadeera, a kirin kaiju that can actually forcibly convert most of its body to Yamaneon to enter a dormant, statue-like state in a loose homage to King Shisa. Though the fantasy elements are far more present than I usually prefer for ATOM kaiju, I think it should be noted they’re pushed that far for a purpose - a theme in Jadeera’s entry, which continues where its creator left off with their submission to the previous ATOM create a kaiju contest (Yokaigon), is that the world of kaiju is more complicated and challenging than many are willing to accept, which is a theme in ATOM itself. Yokaigon’s more supernatural/occult powers are based on the ghost parascience of my setting, which ATOM has delved into a bit (Pathogen being the big example), so it’s not as out of left field as some might think.

@cerothenull brings us our final entry (unless some got lost thanks to tumblr’s shitty tagging system), the flying spider Naeranti. She’s a kaiju spider who uses silk to make complicate hot-air balloons, more or less, and that’s just delightful. ATOM could always use more spider-monsters, and with a really unique gimmick backing up a wonderfully distinct look, Naeranti is sure to stand out among her fellow giant arachnids.

Well, that’s the roundup! In a week (or two, depending on how much my hand cramps) we’ll have the five finalists, and sometime after that, the grand prize winner!

#The Atomic Time of Monsters #The ATOM Create a Kaiju Contest 3D

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wickedyan · 4 years

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Ummm... can I just say how much I love your levi works?? ❤❤❤ i was wondering if you could make another yandere levi victorian arranged marriage? Like it dosent have to be victorian. But can you make it so that its a continuation of your first part ??? thanksss

Part 2 of this

Character: Levi Ackerman, Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan

Warnings: Dubcon, Noncon, Yandere, rough smut.

A/N: I now know a lot about the Victorian era. What people wore in the daytime, in the evening, to bed… and their underwear. Specifically, how to take off the underwear… if you get what I mean ;)

On another note, woo! I finally completed this work! I’ve been working on it for over a week nonstop... hehe. I hope you all enjoy it! (This is the last part to this, I won’t be writing any more for it.)

Due to its length... and content, it’ll be placed under a cut.

His house didn’t feel like a house. Or a home. More like a castle. The gardens were large and meticulously well kept, with fantastical flowers and hedges that you only heard about in fairy tales. The gates to the estate were tall, with sharp-pointed tops and scary wires. It would ensure no unwanted guests could get in… and that no one that wished to leave without permission could get out.

The house itself was five times larger than your old home, and you could count at least twenty windows on the front side of the house.

Your long skirt dragged along the concrete paths, heels clicking in tandem with your new husband’s dress shoes. His arm was entwined with your own, having pulled you close to him, shoulders rubbing together with each step.

You clutched at your skirt as you ascended the stairs to the front door of your new prison. Servants opened the doors wide for the two of you, and you were hit with the fresh scents of lemongrass and ginger.

The entryway was sparsely decorated, a deep red rug centred on the floor with golden tassels fluffing the edges. A wooden table with gorgeous floral vases that you knew costed more than the dress and shoes you wore combined, with fresh red roses that were mid-bloom. The walls painted a simple beige colour and the roof was an odd pattern of mahogany wood with various animals carved into them. Old paintings lined the walls, you didn’t recognise any of the figures, but you recognised the cold eyes identical to Levi’s. His mother.

Levi wasted no time pulling you through the entryway and through identical hallways, up squeaky mahogany staircases and into what seemed like his private bedroom. He pulled free from your arm, addressing a maid and ordering her to have you cleaned up and redressed with a grumble of “and burn that thing when you’re finished” …you couldn’t help but be offended, it was the fanciest dress you owned.

A kind-looking woman pulled you into an en-suite bathroom that connected to his bedroom. It was large, with a marble counter and basin, and a large bathtub with a shelf full of essential oils and fragrances. The bathwater was poured in, heated to a high temperature. You watched the steam coming off the water, it would be a while before the water was comfortable. The maid left you to undress, and you took your time. Slowly untying the shawl around your shoulders, you unceremoniously dropped it to the floor. Your shoes and stockings were next. Then the dress itself. There was a full-length mirror in the corner of the room.

You stood in front of the mirror, eyes skimming over your body. You weren’t skinny, but you weren’t overweight. Your parents worked hard to put food on the table for you, but you bet Levi barely had to lift a finger. You eyed your protruding hip bones, gaunt collarbones. You weren’t skinny… but you could stand to gain a few kilos.

The water stung your sensitive skin as you sunk into the bath, letting the water rise until only your head sat above the water. The cuts on your knees burned. Taking a deep breath, you submerged yourself, holding your breath as you wet your hair.

In only a few hours, you would lose your virginity. Your new husband would expect sex from you, and you would have no reason to deny him. Maybe you could tell him you weren’t feeling up to it… but Levi wasn’t stupid, he would see through your lies easily. You couldn’t help but wonder… would it be good…? Would you enjoy yourself?

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, nervous energy spreading throughout your shaking extremities.

Reaching for the soap, you made quick work of lathering it over your body, making sure to leave no spot untouched. He seemed to have special soap for your hair, it smelled of lavender.

Before you left the bath, you let yourself soak just a little longer. Until the water had cooled and your skin was pruney.

Fresh clothes had been left on the bed for you, you looked over them while you finished towel-drying your hair. It was evening, so you had been left an evening gown. It was much fancier than anything you had ever owned before. You almost felt wrong for wearing it. But you couldn’t deny its comfort, minus the corset that required help from several maids to tighten.

The dress was gorgeous. It was on off the shoulder neckline with long cream-coloured frilled lace. It was a peach colour, with large bows holding up more lace along the bottom of the gown. The number of petticoats and underskirts had your body hot, with a natural red flush to your cheeks and shoulders. The maids fawned over you, braiding your hair and applying cherry juice to your lips.

It was the prettiest you had ever looked, but the sour taste in your mouth wouldn’t leave. The maids, although just following orders, were dressing you up to have sex with their boss. It wasn’t so sweet when you put it in those words, but it was the truth of the situation.

You wondered if he wanted to bed you to show dominance over you. Maybe it was to show others that you belonged to him, he was the possessive type and he had arranged your marriage out of that sick idea. Maybe he wanted to impregnate you, really show the other nobles that you were his. Have you running around taking care of your children and speaking only when spoken to, like some little trophy wife.

Maybe he truly desired you.

You wanted more out of life. But he had stolen that chance from you. He had you right where he wanted you, stuck, locked away in his home and you couldn’t do anything about it. It was sickening.

Soon enough, the maids decided they were finished. And you were ushered down the stairs, where your husband was waiting for you at the dining table, a large feast laid out in front of him. Normally, the wife would sit on the opposite side of the husband, but he pulled you towards him, and you were sat in his lap.

Your face burned; an embarrassing show put on for the servants. But they made no comments on it. Smart of them, should they wish to keep their heads. You struggled in his lap, using the armrests to help push yourself out of his lap. His arms snaked around your waist, and with an iron grip, he pulled you back into his lap. No matter how much you squirmed, you couldn’t leave. You huffed a breath of annoyance, settling into his lap more comfortably.

You stiffened, feeling something hard beneath you. You wriggled, and Levi grunted hot air into the nape of your neck. Gooseflesh rose in its place.

“Careful, little lamb. Keep writhing on my lap like that and I won’t be able to control myself…” He murmured this low in your ear, a low growl on his tongue. Your body was hot, the pang of arousal that licked up your thighs was not helping.

Quickly you looked around, you were alone, so no one had heard him. You couldn’t help but feel relieved, if someone had heard that you wouldn’t be able to face them again… “You smell divine. I take it you enjoyed your bath?” He cut into the food, bringing a bite-sized amount up past you and to his lips.

You nodded in reply, “I did. Thank you.”

Although you couldn’t see it, you knew he was smirking.

He brought another square of food up on the fork, this time aiming for your mouth. He was going to feed you. Your lips parted, accepting the food. You chewed slowly, savouring the taste. It was delicious… you hadn’t ever tasted something with so much flavour. You couldn’t help but salivate. You usually ate things like mutton, bread and tea. This was something completely out of your league.

Dinner continued that way, alternating bites until you were both full.

Dread. It was Night. The sun nowhere to be seen. Levi had already returned to your shared bedroom. You sat in a room in front of the fireplace. It was warm, and from your position, you could see the moon from the window. You cherished this moment, the comfort and allowed yourself to forget what awaited you in his bedroom.

It was your bedroom too, now.

A maid came to collect you, and you were broken from your stupor.

When you arrived at the door to your room, it was closed. You could see the glow of candlelight from underneath the door. You rapped the door, waiting for an answer before stepping through.

Levi was in his nightclothes. He was on the bed, sitting up against the headboard with a book in his hands. Laying on top of the covers. The candlelight flickered as you shut the door behind you. He didn’t lift his eyes from his book, flicking over the page with a hum. You made quick work of changing into your own nightgown, grunting as you loosened the corset with only a little struggle.

You could feel his eyes gliding over your exposed shoulder blades and flitting down with the slide of your dress as it fell to the floor. Turning around, catching him in the act. But he didn’t look away when you turned. He continued staring unashamedly. Daring you to say something, as though a man couldn’t admire his wife.

When you crawled into bed beside him, you were almost convinced he had forgotten about his heated promise to you. Almost. He lifted an arm, inviting you into his space. Ignoring it made no difference because he pulled you into his side. Your head resting on his chest, one arm holding his book and the other stroking through your hair, curling it behind your ear. It was comfortable, domestic.

Levi smelled good. Was it some soap or essential oils? Perhaps a special cologne? What was the scent specifically? You couldn’t tell, but it had you breathing deeply, hoping to intake more and more of that pleasant smell.

He had reached the end of his page but instead of turning it as he had the past several pages, he closed the book. It was placed in its spot in his bedside draw. His hand rested on his stomach. Your palms were sweating, fingers twitching wildly. All through this, his other hand didn’t stop stroking your hair.

Until it moved, sliding under your jaw and tilting your face upwards toward his own. His hand stayed there, cradling your face. He took a moment to meet your eyes. His pupils blown wide, eyelids heavy and lips parted.

His lips met yours.

You gasped and Levi used this to slide his tongue past your lips. His tongue rolled over your teeth and tongue, exploring your mouth. It was warm and wet and practised. He nipped at your lips, licking over them in silent apology at your sharp intake of breath. How was he so good at this? He grunts, but you’re lost in the kiss. Your eyes were closed, hands reaching for his shirt to pull him closer, hot skin touching his, mewling and leaning into him.

That scent was back again, but he tastes like whisky and mint and maybe you should have pulled away, maybe it should’ve been gross, but it just wasn’t. His lips were firm but gentle, his tongue teasing and slow. His teeth dug into your lip, but his tongue was always quick to soothe the mark.

Levi pulled back with a groan, a lewd string of saliva connected you. He leaned in, sucking it up lewdly. “You taste better than I imagined.”

Sliding around the back of your head and into your hair, his hand pulled hard and smashed your lips together once more. Heat floods your thighs, you rub your legs together to create some kind of friction.

“Oh… Sir-Levi…” you breathe out between pants and sighs.

He’s on top of you, pushing you down and his legs between your thighs. Calloused hands roam your body leaving trails of heat behind them. Then he’s pulling open the buttons of your nightgown and pressing kisses down your neck. He lingers on a particular spot on your neck, harder kisses until he’s licking hot, wet stripes along your throat. He blows cool air over it, chuckling as your nipples harden amongst the goosebumps on your chest. His groin is grinding over your hips, fingers digging into the fat of your hips and squeezing so harshly you know it’s going to leave marks.

Teeth scrape over your collarbones and it has you squeaking out a high-pitched moan. You’re writhing under his burning touch, teeth biting so hard into your lip you can taste blood.

He pulls open the rest of your nightgown, exposing your chest to the cool night air. His lips are enclosing the hardened bud before you have a chance to be embarrassed. He sucks it into his mouth, circling it with his tongue and tugging with his teeth and it sends arousal straight to your core. His other hand is groping your other breast and you can feel the desperation in his touch. Your fingers rake through his raven locks, scraping against his scalp and pulling it, not knowing if it’s because it’s too much or because you have an inclination that he would like it.

A wet ‘pop’ is heard as he pulls off your nipple and moves to the other one to give it the same attention. Before he does, he kisses your sternum. His hungry eyes, wicked with desire, burn into your own. He takes pleasure seeing you so fucked out and he had barely started. “God, you’re beautiful…” He grins, he has you right where he wants you. A predator looming darkly over its prey. But this was the best part of the hunt. His reward.

“You belong to me now… you know that now, don’t you, y/n?” You nod, at his mercy.

He kisses the flesh of your bust, sucking the supple skin into his mouth and biting down. Hard. You cried out in pain, but he’s quick to move on, repeating the action and leaving deep purple marks all over your tits, moving back up to leave the same marks in more visible places. You shake your head, pushing at his shoulders. But he pushes back into you, you didn’t realise how strong he was.

“No- I… Marks. No…” You manage to speak amongst sighs. He snickers into your throat, the vibrations only making the sensations all the more pleasurable. He ignores your words, biting harder to show he heard you.

His hands ghost the length of your thighs, pushing the bottom of your nightgown up over your hips. Fingertips moved deftly, swiftly untying the strings keeping the front of your underwear together. He was quick to pull the last of the clothing hiding your body from his greedy eyes. You felt vulnerable, having your most intimate parts on display for the man. You squeezed your thighs together, or at least the best you could with him between them.

Strong arms held your thighs apart. He leaned down, hot breath blowing over your opening. Embarrassed, you covered your eyes with your hands.

“Eyes on me.” His voice was deep, demanding, controlling.

Slowly, you pulled your hands from your eyes, glancing up to witness his sinful expression. That devilish grin.

He was teasing as he leaned down, blowing hot streams of air over your pussy. Pulling the lips apart and staring back up at you from between your legs. Gaze dark. “My my, you are wet, aren’t you? So ready for me already?” His tongue dipped out to taste, licking a flat stripe up the length of your slit.

You gasped; eyes clenching closed before remembering to keep your eyes locked on his. Mirth in his stare. “I’ve been watching you, longing for you, keeping such a close eye on you… for months… never did I think you would look so delicious in my bed.”

Two fingers rubbed against your slit, grinding back and forth over your hole. Gentle “Ohhh…”’s and “Ahhh…”’s sighed from your mouth. Scooping up your slick and using it to press firm circles over your swollen clit.

That felt… good. Really good.

Levi paused, pulling his fingers away, scissoring them and holding them closer to the candlelight. “I guess… a taste wouldn’t hurt.” And his fingers were being sucked into his mouth. He licked around them, groaning. “Fuck… so sweet…” It should’ve been embarrassing but you had never been more aroused.

“I wish I could taste you more, but I can’t wait any longer.” He was tugging his own nightclothes off, untying the knot of his underwear and pulling his hard cock free. It twitched in his hand, heavy and girthy. He scooped more of your slick into his hand, stroking it over his cock. He threw his head back, a growl deep in his throat. “God… I finally have you, y/n… just fucking look at you… all mine.”

The heat of his cock was rubbing at your cunt, grinding it against your clit and fuck you wanted him. There’s a dark look in his eyes, and you suddenly remember that this man took you from your family and arranged a marriage with you to sate some sick obsession he had with you.

You kicked at his shoulder, sending him falling backwards and scrambling to get off the bed. But he pins you down, large hand wrapping around your throat and pushing you back into the sheets. His firm grip on your throat makes breathing difficult, you scratch at his hand but it’s no use.

He thrusts his entire length into you, fucking you into the mattress with such force you can hear the animalistic slapping of skin on skin and it only makes you wetter. His eyebrows are furrowed, angry. You scream, as best you can with his hand around your neck. He silences you with a searing kiss, much less gentle than before, with teeth clashing together.

The gentleness that had been in all his previous actions was gone; he gave no pauses while he pounded into you. He was snarling as he hammered unapologetically into you. “You can never leave me, brat. Be my good, submissive girl and I’ll reward you. Misbehave and you will not enjoy the punishment.”

Despite his rough movements, the pain and pleasure worked together, and it had you clenching around him because it just felt so good.

“Aw,” he sneered, “You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” His thrusts had a sense of urgency to them, and he bit his lip as he growled in your ear. His free hand assaulted your clip with delicious friction that had the pleasure in your gut building until it was nearly ready to burst.

Levi grunted, “I’m gonna cum… and you’re gonna take every. Last. Drop.” He punctuated his words with forceful thrusts into your cunt.

“Cum with me… cum now.”

And that pleasure burst, clenching uncontrollable around his cock and milking each rope of sticky white fluid that filled your pussy.

He heaved over you, releasing his grip on your neck, and slowly pulled his softening cock out of your sopping pussy with a squelch.

He left you on the bed, panting and wrecked. Your forehead and hair damp with sweat, covered in his teeth marks and bruises that would be impossible to cover. His cum leaking out of your ruined cunt. He returned with a damp cloth, the cold liquid making you flinch, then relax into the soothing feeling as he wiped at your intimates.

Your eyelids felt heavy, and you couldn’t will yourself to move. But soon there was something being placed around your throat.

“Mmm… fits perfectly.”

It was a white, lace collar, with a dainty little heart.

‘Levi’

“Now, you’re truly mine.”

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davidmann95 · 3 years

Note

now that it's over, thoughts on Bendis' Superman as a whole?

pretenderoftheeast said: So, thoughts on Bendis' Superman and Action Comics' tenure altogether and separately now that it's over?

Anonymous said: Best and Worst things about Bendis' Superman run

Anonymous said: Now that it is over, what are your thoughts on Bendis' runs on Superman and Action Comics as a whole?

Anonymous said: Retrospective thoughts on Bendis' Superman as a whole now that it's, I guess, done?

Anonymous said: Hey so since Bendis’ Superman stuff seems to be done, what did you think of the run as a whole?

I decided to hold off a bit on writing on this one, if only so that I could reread the Action Comics side of it since Superman stood out in my memory a lot more. But now I have, and as we’re heading into a bold new era of Superman (and it’s coming in fast - just since I made my Superman in 2021 predictions we’ve gotten Ed Pinsent finally reprinting his legendary bootleg Silver Age Superman, Steve Orlando announcing his Superman analogue book Project Patron, an official shonen Superman redesign for RWBY/Justice League, PKJ’s Super-debut turning out far better than I ever expected, Superman & Lois’s first proper trailer largely taking people pleasantly by surprise, and my learning that there’s a Sylvester Stallone Old Man Superman analogue movie titled Samaritan coming out this summer) we’re ready to take a look back with at least a touch of perspective. I’ll lead with complaints, so everybody who’s been waiting for me to say that Bendis on Superman was Bad, Actually, savor this because it’s as close as you’ll get.

The Bad

* I hate to say it, but rereading that side of the run there’s no two ways about it: the structure of Action Comics as a whole is a mess. It baffled me from day one that it was the more acclaimed of the two books for so long - I guess people are hardwired at this point to think of ‘street’ stuff as where Bendis is supposed to be - because it was immediately clear that Superman had a well-defined story he wanted to tell, while Action was the usual Bendis off-the-cuff improvisation. It’s barely even a story in the same way, and it’s certainly not the ‘Metropolis crime book’ people took it as: it’s 28 issues of Superman and his supporting cast stuffed a pinball machine with the Red Cloud pinging off of each other as we wait to see who falls in the hole at the bottom, and partway through Leviathan and the Legion of Doom and 90s Superboy are tossed into the mix to keep it going a little longer. On an issue-to-issue basis it’s frequently really good, but the core plot of the book is *maybe* six issues stretched out over two and a half years.

* I’ve gone into this some before, but structure-wise Unity Saga also has problems: Phantom Planet rules but either it needed to be cut or the back half needed to be a year all its own in order to accommodate the scale of what it’s attempting. It’s got an interstellar civil war leading into the formation of the United Planets, family drama, Rogol Zaar’s whole deal, and Jon’s coming of age, and I’d say only that last one is really properly served. Even Jon forming the United Planets, while contextually somewhat justified in terms of 1. The situation being so far gone he’s the only one who’d even think in those terms, 2. Things being bad enough that these assorted galactic powers would be willing to try it, and 3. Him having the S on his chest to sell it, isn’t at all built up to within the run itself.

* Rogol Zaar sucks. He’s made up of nothing but interesting ideas - he’s an ersatz warrior ‘superman’ of a bygone age of empires up against the new model, he’s the sins of Krypton as a conservative superpower come home to roost, he’s while not outright said to be definitely Superman’s tragic half-brother and the culmination of everything this run does with Jor-El - but none of them manifest on the page, he’s just a big punchy dude with a dumb design who screams about how you should take him seriously because he’s totally the one who blew up Krypton. Even a killer redesign by Ryan Sook for Legion of Superheroes can’t fix that. There are lots of bad villains with good ideas who are redeemed with time and further effort, but I can’t imagine Zaar getting that TLC to become a fraction of whatever Bendis envisioned him as.

* The second year of Action Comics, after establishing itself in its first as one of the most consistently gorgeous books on the stands, leads with Szymon Kudranski’s weak output and then concludes with John Romita Jr. turning in some career-worst work. The latter is particularly egregious because for that first year Bendis writes a really collected, gentle Superman so him getting pushed into being more aggressive should have an impact, but Romita draws such a craggy rough-looking Superman in the first place that it mutes any sort of shock value.

* WE NEVER LEARN WHAT’S UP WITH LEONE’S CAR, WHAT THE HELL. You don’t just DROP THAT IN THERE and then NEVER FOLLOW UP.

The Good

* Superman got his real clothes back after 7 truly ridiculous years.

* Bendis fundamentally gets Clark’s voice in a way unlike almost any other writer - even all-around better writers of the character almost never approach how spot-on he is with having Superman speak and act exactly how Superman should.

* Supporting cast front and center! He writes a dynamite Lois, Perry, and Jimmy (even if many of Lois’s more out-there decisions in the run don’t end up retroactively justified the way you’d hope), Ma and Pa are more fun than they’ve been in decades in their brief appearances, he manages to turn having Jor-El in the mix into a positive, and the Daily Planet as a whole has an incredibly distinctive vibe to it like never before that I hope is taken as a baseline going forward.

* The non-Rogol Zaar baddies? All ruled. Invisible Mafia and Red Cloud are both brilliant ideas executed solidly if overextended. Zod as Kryptonian Vegeta, Mongul as a generational perpetual bastard engine primed to be incapable of self-reflection, and Ultraman as “what if Irredeemable but he’d never been a good guy and also he was a Jersey mobster” are the best versions of those characters by numberless light-eons. Lex is on-point in his sparse appearances. Xanadoth as a mystical cosmic monster older than time who still talks like a Bendis character is however unintentionally a hoot. The alt-universe Parasite is a more intimidating Doomsday than Doomsday ever was. And Synmar as an alien culture’s attempt at creating their own Superman and messing up the formula when they make him a soldier can and should be a legitimate major ongoing villain coming out of this run.

* Pretty much all the art other than what I mentioned already. Fabok does a good job bookending The Man of Steel and Ivan Reis does the work of his career anchoring Superman (special props to Reis as well for drawing the first ever non-Steve Rude interesting-looking take on Metropolis), and meanwhile you’ve got Jim Lee, Jose Luis Garcia Lopez, Doc Shaner, Steve Rude, Kevin Maguire, Adam Hughes, Patrick Gleason, Yanick Paquette, Ryan Sook, Brandon Peterson, and David Lafuente doing their own parts.

* Closely related to the art, all the little flourishes with the powers. Super-speed having a consistent visual with the background coloring changing, Clark internally putting numbers to the degrees of force behind his punches and what situations which numbers are appropriate for, ‘skidding to a halt’ mid-flight before crashing through a window, the shonen-ass major throwdowns as portrayed by Reis, how his super-hearing is handled as a prevalent element. Lots of clever bits that added flavor to what he does.

* While Unity Saga has problems, the whole of what Bendis does in Superman as a means of forward momentum for Clark and his world is excellent. The sort of three-act structure of:

** Clark is led to question his place in things over the course of a few adventures

** Involvement in the larger cosmos and the impact it has had through and on his family makes him realize the answer to his questions is that he needs to step up in a bigger way because there’s no benevolent larger universe to welcome Earth with open arms, nor a cosmic precedent for everything turning out for the best without some help

** As a consequence of the lessons learned by this change in the status quo Clark is inspired to make his own personal change in revealing his identity (with Mythological basically being an epilogue showcasing a ‘standard’ standalone Superman adventure while simultaneously highlighting his new status quo and how it fits in as a summing-up of Bendis’s take)

…does a great job of shepherding through ideas that lend a lot of forward momentum to Superman of the kind he hasn’t seen in a long time. Not perfect, but far lesser stories with far lesser ambitions have made huge impacts, so I’d certainly hope at least some of this sticks around even if, say, regardless of any retcons to the main line there are always going to be stories with Clark as a disguise and Jon as a kid. Oh, speaking of whom,

* KISS MY ASS, EVERYTHING WITH JON KENT RULED

Ahem. Probably a less confrontational way of putting that.

Do I think there was more gas in the tank for Jon as a kid? Totally, making him likeable and viable was the one really good thing the Rebirth era accomplished for Superman and I expect we’ll continue seeing more of it in the future one way or another. But whether or not him being aged up was Bendis’s decision, or working with marching orders to set up the eventually-(kinda-)discarded 5G, the coming of age narrative here is fire. He keeps the essential Clark Kent kindness and bit of Lois Lane cheekiness that reminds you he’s still their kid, which is a combination Bendis is basically precision-crafted to write, but his trials by fire give him a background entirely unlike the by-the-numbers “and here’s how Superman’s great kid grew up to be a great superhero too” narrative you’d expect while still arriving at that endpoint. If superheroes live and die by metaphors then Jon in here is what it means to grow up written as large as possible: leaving home for the first time (and seeming to shoot up overnight!), getting into the muck of how the real world works, being beaten down by authority wearing faces you’ve been taught to trust, scrambling to get through with the whole world against you, and in the end getting through by learning to rely on your own strength while keeping your soul intact and your head held high, and even managing to speak some truth to power. It gives him a well-defined life story with room to go back to and explore the intricacies of each leg of for decades to come in a way Superman hasn’t had since the original Crisis - someone someday is going to write a The Life & Times Of The Son Of Superman miniseries and it’s going to be one of the greats - and negates any question that he’s earned his stature as the heir apparent.

* Coming out of this, Superman’s world is fascinating. He’s out but rather than giving up his day-to-day life he’s openly spending part of his life as CLARK KENT: SUPER-REPORTER and part of his job on the cape-and-tights side of things is now KAL-EL: SUPER-SPACE-DIPLOMAT, Lois Lane coruns a foundation helping people whose personal continuities have been fucked over by Crisis shenanigans, Jimmy Olsen owns the Daily Planet but is still doing Jimmy Olsen stuff because that’s how he gets his kicks, and Jon Kent is going to college in the future. I’m not anywhere near naïve enough to think that’s how things are going to be forever, or shortsighted enough to think there’s no value left in the traditional setups, but god I hope these developments stick around for a long, long time to come and potentially become the new ‘normal’ as far as the ongoing shared universe stuff goes, because it all feels like the right and promising next steps to take for the lives of these characters. However it got here, for all the pluses and minuses along the way even if I maintain the former very much outweighed the latter as a reading experience, Bendis has a lot to be proud of if that’s the legacy he leaves on these titles.

* The recap pages at the desks!

#Superman #Brian Bendis #Jon Kent #Opinion

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mythicamagic · 4 years

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#29 i have a fetish this week, i guess lol.

29: a kiss on the inside of the wrist.

Wind whipped her hair back to thrash in the breeze, and Kagome tightened her coat around her. One of Miroku and Sango's twins inched a little too close to the edge, and the miko quickly snatched her up before she could fall.

"Careful," she smiled, tapping the cute munchkin's nose.

Hachi was generously giving them a lift to the former Demon Slayer's Village where Kohaku awaited them. It was thankfully faster than travelling on foot. Kagome couldn't help but stare wistfully at the passing scenery, mind cast adrift.

"Don't worry, Lady Kagome!" Miroku called from up front, "we're making good time."

"Hm?"

"You looked a little bored," he chuckled.

Kagome blushed and noticed Sango staring. "N-no! I was just wondering if the village would be alright without us," she lied, feeling terrible that her priorities were so missed up that she wasn't worried about them.

"Inuyasha is there to protect everyone, try to relax. This is meant to be a break," Sango smiled.

Nodding, she returned it, playing with their twin's feet and causing her to giggle.

After a few moments of being left alone to her thoughts however, Kagome naturally fell back into her musings. She began recalling that night. That fateful rainy night Sesshoumaru had extended an offer to her that would change the nature of their relationship forever.

----

Rain poured hard, pelting her shoulders like icy needles. Kagome shuddered miserably, arms curled tight around herself as she hurried towards a tree. Ducking down against the bark gave her mild relief, feeling only small droplets reach her from the position. She sighed heavily, breath fanning out visible.

In retrospect, navigating by night from the Bone Eater's Well towards the village hadn't been a wise decision without a torch. ‘I'd been in too much of a hurry to leave.’

Mindling soaked dark strands back from her damp forehead, Kagome blinked and squinted into the darkness. Something was flying through the rain filled skies. Faint green flames could be seen like flickering stars. They drew closer, a black square shape becoming visible.

Kagome wasn't sure what to make of it. The structure resembled an ancient Japanese court carriage, the shutters thick black lacquer to ensure privacy, lanterns hanging from the roof. Flowers patterned its side, carved into the wood in intricate, sprawling patterns and shining gold.

Instead of being pulled by a man or horse though, it was a demon drawn carriage. Small kappa-like demons ensured the carriage glided through the air smoothly. Kagome shivered. She could taste youki the air it seeped so thick and strong. Familiar...

The carriage hovered, lowering itself to muddy, rainsoaked ground. From the back, wooden blinds were turned and snapped up sharply, letting a thick haze of pipe smoke escape like a dusty exhale from a dragon.

Sesshoumaru gazed at her from within the carriage, endowed with more grandeur and finery than she'd ever seen him wear before. Usually his outfit comprised of refined beauty mixed with practicality and strength. Without battle armour, he looked softer. Lilac silks were patterned with his house crest. Earrings glittered upon pointed ears. An ornate pipe was held between deft fingers, and he took a drag, observing her with watchful curiosity.

"Are you going to stand there all night, miko?"

Kagome gaped and glanced around, wondering if Kaede had appeared or Kikyo had risen from the dead a fourth time. Surely he wasn't talking to her?

But sure enough, that flat, unimpressed gaze was mistakable. Kagome swallowed and hurried out from the shelter of the trees. Climbing up into the back entrance of the carriage, she found the space limited and swathed in furs. Cosy, but alarmingly close to Sesshoumaru. Their knees were almost touching as she sat opposite him. The blinds were snapped down over the exit before she could protest, her body swaying forward from momentum as the carriage ascended once more. Kagome quickly righted herself before she could land atop his lap.

Sesshoumaru observed her with mild amusement, tilting a regal chin up. "Is there a reason I find you by yourself?"

Kagome bristled and hugged her arms "I don't need Inuyasha to mind me like a child. I can do things on my own," she grumbled.

"Mn, so I have observed. You have often been alone lately, miko."

Her teeth ground, shivering violently. She jumped upon feeling plumes of lavish fur wrap around her shoulders. It practically drowned her in warmth. "T-thanks."

Busying himself with another languid drag, looking decadent yet exuding opulence, Sesshoumaru hummed. He seemed to be waiting for her to continue, so Kagome sighed and reluctantly elaborated.

"We broke up a few months ago. Things are still a little strained between us, is all. Why do you care?"

"I do not, this one is merely making conversation."

She frowned, gesturing to him. "Your turn. How come I find you cruising around Japan in this era's equivalent of a Porsche?"

"What is a Porsche?"

"It's a car."

"What is a-"

"We're getting off the subject," Kagome giggled, catching herself. Had she ever giggled around him before?

Sesshoumaru didn't seem to mind, now pouring himself some saké, "I am returning from a gathering of influential demons."

"Ohhh now I get it," her eyes danced. "You're drunk because of a party, that's why you're so amiable tonight. Makes sense."

Golden eyes immediately turned flat. They were relaxed and not as sharp as per the norm but awareness kept his pupils focused. "This is not my true form. I have not nearly consumed enough to become inebriated."

Kagome glanced him over, frowning when he offered her a cup of the clear liquid- ultimately shrugging and accepting it. Taking a tentative sip, she choked and coughed, blinking rapidly. "That tastes vile," the words came out as a squeak.

He sniffed primly, giving a haughty look and eyeing the cup. "...You are entirely correct. This is not good saké. Perhaps Lord Onozuka was attempting to poison me."

She nodded seriously. "My Grandpa's stuff is better- though at 18, it's technically illegal for me to have tried it. Don't tell anyone," a grin was working its way onto her mouth.

"Would not dream of it," his lips curved, honeyed gaze smiling. "Perhaps you are not as pure and innocent as first assumed, miko."

She abruptly lost her playful mood, glancing away with thin lips. Silence engulfed them, filling up with large consuming bursts of miserable scent as her emotions rolled turbulently. "...Surely...you can tell I'm not 'pure' anymore," Kagome mumbled. "Are you making fun of me?"

Sesshoumaru stared at her levelly, nostrils flaring. Winter lashes lowered slightly. "I could scent that you were no longer a virgin, but that has little to do with the purity of your soul, miko."

She sighed heavily, taking a sip of the alcohol and wincing. "It was wrong of me- n-not the sex part. I don't believe sex before marriage 'taints' someone or anything like that. It's just...I did it with someone I shouldn't have. My boyfriend..."

He arched a brow. "Is that not the term of a human male in a relationship?"

"Y-yeah, I'm not making sense, I know. Asahi was a rebound, we only dated a short time. That's the problem. I totally used him- and I feel terrible for it."

Violent shame twined with regret, tears pricking her eyes. She gripped the porcelain cup so hard it trembled in her hold. "Inuyasha moved on so quickly from our relationship. I-I thought there was something wrong with me, so I forced myself to date someone else. I'm lonely, sure, but that's no excuse. I wish I'd never done it- I should've just stayed far away from any relationship until I knew for sure I wasn't going to use the guy-"

Sesshoumaru's fingers wrapped around her hand, cutting her off mid-tirade. Her breath stalled, quelled by his calm gaze.

He huffed softly, claws lightly skimming sensitive skin. "First of all, foolish woman; did this Asahi boy seem dissatisfied or upset about being 'used?'"

"N-no...but he didn't get the full story."

"You do not owe him an explanation," Sesshoumaru rumbled, something tinging his voice. "He could not tell you were miserable, and knows nothing of your life here- furthermore would not understand. I see no reason to punish yourself thus for experiencing a moment of pleasure after months of distress."

She'd never heard him be so chatty before. Nonetheless, Kagome remained unconvinced, staring at her shoes miserably and attempting to lift the alcohol towards her lips- Sesshoumaru's grip preventing her.

Ever so slowly, in a way that turned her stomach inside out and sent a rush of heat shooting straight down to her core- Sesshoumaru lifted her occupied hand, brushing soft lips over the inside of her wrist.

"In light of this new information," he said quietly. "I feel something should be done to drastically alter your mindset on indulgence."

"W-what-" Kagome squeaked, swallowing and closing her eyes. When they slid open, the miko raised her chin, intrigue blooming like a fresh flower bud in her forget-me-not eyes. "What did you have in mind?" she breathed.

"I have a proposition for you."

#sesskag #effinsusie #Sesshoumaru x Kagome

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duketectivecomics · 4 years

Note

You might've answered this already and I just didn't find it, but one thing that always perplexed me about Duke was how old he was in comparison to the other Batkids. It's obvious he's younger than Dick and Babs, and I pretty sure he's younger than Jason and Cass, and older than Damian, but I cannot tell if he's meant to be Tim and Steph's ages, younger, or older. Could you help me?

You’re all kinds of good here, anon!!! I answered a similar ask abt the Order of Adoption but didn’t dive into specific ages on that post BECAUSE well they didn’t ask lmaooo but ALSO:

Comic ages are very fluid usually! While Years™️ might pass in the canon proper, or while time seems to slow to a crawl, having a character’s age outright stated is something that occurs very rarely for most characters, if at all!

Because it’s always much easier to have a floating age range to work and play around in! It’s easier to keep a character Perpetually 12 or 16 or 25 or mid-40s or- you get the idea. SO, with that in mind. Let’s do our Best to Break Down What Age Duke Might Be Currently A N D how it might interact with the Other Batkids!

(Warning for a Very Long Post, lots of issue citations, and a LOT of comics terminology regarding specific runs/events/continunity. I’m gonna try to keep it as clear/concise as possible ofc but plz keep these things in mind! If you’re not at least marginally familiar with Bat-Comics, you might find yourself feeling a little lost here!)

So from the Zero Year arc we see a common Trend that plays out pretty consistently with Batfam comics: a Life-Changing Event Occuring while the protag is Young™️.

(Batman (2011) #30)

With how Duke is drawn in these particular issues, and given the trends of the past, I’d place him in the 8-12 range. The historic precedent being ofc that that is the same range that canon usually places both Bruce and Dick at for their Tragedies™; the more benign reason being that he... just very much Looks to be drawn in that Range. He’s very clearly an Older/Prepubescent child here.

Fast Forward to his Next Appearance in the Endgame arc and-

(Batman (2011) #37)

He’s definitely older! He’s wiser! And he’s giving Batman a fistbump lmao. Again, no strict age given here BUT, since they condensed each Robin to a Year or Two tops with Bruce (its n52 and its fucked up is what it is), we can assume it’s been at least 4-5 since Zero Year (which would mean if we go off the age range I proposed for that year, then theoretically he could be anywhere from 12-16 here, and I think that tracks pretty well. Not Perfectly and Certainly Not so well with Pre52 continuity ofc, but I’ll talk about that later!)

In We Are Robin, while its not stated Directly In The Text, it IS given as an Informational Tidbit that Duke is 16 (specifically this can be found at the end of issue #4)! (Sweet sweet canon confirmation FINALLY)

We know that WAR takes place Fairly Soon after Endgame (almost immediately, give or take a month or two given that Duke’s been placed in a few foster homes at this point and has racked up Quite A File) now, again id like to remind y’all that while this is a NICE starting point to have, keep in mind that comics are fluid and this may be retconned slightly/ignored in later stories bc Keeping Duke 16-ish is in DC’s Best Interest at the moment. (Having Relatable Teen Characters afterall is a Good Marketing strategy™️. And the longer they can Keep them Young, the Better)

With that in mind let’s take a moment to Highlight the fact that Duke and Damian have crossed paths at this point AND the storylines that have occurred during this year that were meant to be in conjunction with one another!

Because Prior to Endgame, Damian had Died! And just a year (in real, meat-space time) before We Are Robin, he was resurrected and had begun his “Year of Atonement” in the Robin: Son of Batman maxiseries. Midway through both this series and WAR (and, we can assume, midway thru this “Year” for Damian) the Robin War begins/ends and we see at least one major Moment between these two boys who will soon call one another brothers:

(Robin War #2)

Given that R:SoB is followed up VERY quickly by Teen Titans Rebirth (in which Damian celebrates his 13th birthday), we can conclude that Damian would be 12 during this time (well, 12 and 1/2 to play it safe lmao). That being said, this Confirms about a 4yr gap between Duke and Damian! (One Batkid down at least! but he’s the key to the others so put a pin in him!)

As We Are Robin draws to its conclusion, DC was releasing another arc that would eventually flow into the Rebirth Era, by the end of which, Bruce would approach Duke with an Idea (which involves Bruce becoming Dukes temporary guardian & as he states Many Times “Trying Something New” with Duke).

And thus the Rebirth Era begins, and Duke began his Year of training (most directly encapsulated by the Cursed Wheel arc in the All-Star Batman run:

(All-Star Batman #1 (back-up story))

Bruce introduces Duke to a training regimen that Alfred has named “the Cursed Wheel”. It encompasses all the training Bruce and the other bats have undergone and condenses it down into color-coordinated segments that will take Duke a Year to Complete.

It can be assumed that by the End of this Year Duke will somehow miraculously still be 16, despite, again, an entire ass year passing.

There’s one story that takes place mid-year in All-Star Batman, and the Cursed Wheel is meant to be capped off by Duke’s first Official Day as the Signal (in the titular Batman & the Signal ofc) BUT, near as I can tell after this story, Dukes age is not brought up again. So until they DO bring it up either in Batman & the Outsiders or whatever future run Duke becomes involved in, we can assume DC will be working with the idea that he’s meant to be in that 16-18 range from here on out (ie still a minor).

But, dear anon, you might be saying “okay, that’s cool, but how does that relate to my question abt how he falls in with the other Bats?” You’ll have to be a little patient with me here, but I think I may have cracked the code!

Keep in mind I’m gonna be addressing both the Post-Crisis to Flashpoint Continuity (ie mid-80s to 2010 in comics history) and the N52-slash-Rebirth Era (2010-Today). Its generally agreed by fandom and DC alike that these points of rebooting &/or Major Events constitute the era of “Modern” comics, and that everything from the 80s-on might more or less be canon on some level, even if not All of it is.

(Plus, most of fandom usually likes to borrow elements from both eras and much more rarely from stories before it, SO-)

Lets do a quick rundown of how everyone who’s Closer to Duke’s Age, Relates to each other first, age-wise:

Given that Jason was 15 when he died, in A Lonely Place of Dying its established that Bruce had become increasingly reckless since his death, and by the end of the story, Tim has stepped in to fill Robin’s shoes (he states that he’s 13 during this story btw). Pretty soon after, Stephanie Brown is introduced & established to be about a year older than Tim (wish I could pin-point a specific issue BUT, i unfortunately haven’t read any Tim OR Steph-involved comics that predate No Man’s Land... Besides the aforementioned Lonely Place and Young Justice technically, but im working on remedying that soon!)

NOW, during the No Man’s Land event, Cassandra is introduced, and pretty soon into her Batgirl run, its revealed that she’s around the same age as Jason (or at least how old he Would Have Been, had he not died.) Now, given that Jay has an August bday and Cass has a January one, fandom sometimes likes to play around with the idea of one being older than the other (OR even speculating/placing them in an AU as twins/siblings, given that Lady Shiva (Cass’ mom) was a Possible Candidate to be Jason’s biological mother but that’s a Whole Other Thing i wont get into here.)

The point being, Cass, in this era of comics, IS slightly older than Tim and Steph. At Tim’s start as Robin, their ages could either line up like: Tim-13, Steph-14, Cass-15 (being a few months ‘behind’ Jay), then Jason at 15/16 (depending on how soon Tim filled the role after Jay died in April) OR Jason-15/16, Cass-16/17 (in this case she’d be a few months ‘ahead’ now instead)

So brief detour to talk New 52, however! Because Tim, Steph & Cass all got switched around from where DC originally left them prior to the reboot! Now I haven’t read much of them in this era, other than Batman & Robin: Eternal, so my Understanding of their current ages is Spotty at Best. The general consensus seems to be that while before N52, Stephanie had been attending her first year of College (& doing VERY WELL i might add), with the reboot she was set back a few years alongside Tim to a vague Late-Teen state (so 16-18-ish, instead of a Very Clearly Established 18/19). Cass is probably the worst off for this reboot, given that B&R:E basically constitutes her new origin for the new continuity, and does nothing to confirm her age (all I really know is that she’s a Vague Late-Teen too... Probably? Maybe?), given how much they infantilize her, and subsequently how fandom in turn has taken to infantilizing her too, theres a semi-popular fanon that places her Younger that Tim and Steph. And I, for one, propose that we ignore that bc its Weak Sauce my dudes.

Some fans chose to ignore N52 continuity due to this vagueness, and will stick to the ages established before the N52/Rebirth reboots. But its something to keep in mind regardless bc we’re all obviously going to pull from what’s most familiar to us!

But WHERE could we place Duke with regards to them, then? Because them being “Late Teens” is certainly much too vague to work with!

This is Where Damian is the key!

Because Damian is one of those rare exceptions to the Reboot Rule. His story flowed almost seamlessly over from before to after. While he was made a Robin at the age of 10, he continued to grow and learn even after the universe was being rewritten to suit the whims of DC editorial.

If we choose to ignore how everyone else’s ages and origins were swapped around, and stick with the growth that was presented before the reboot, then we can draw some interesting conclusions!

Firstly, though Stephanie also had Died and subsequently Returned, she hadn’t lost much, if any time, from the Ordeal. At the start of her Batgirl run, she is enrolled at a Gotham university and making headway with a more firm foot in the Batfamily (even to the point that she and Damian spend a few issues bonding. At this point in time, Damian is definitely 11, and again, Steph can be assumed to be 18/19 during the course of her run. We’ll assume 18 for clarity’s sake.)

So, then when Damian is 11, now our line up is as Follows:

Dami - 11, Steph - 18, Tim - 17, Cass 19-21 (the range depending again, if you subscribe to Cass being either older/younger than Jason).

WHICH MEANS, If during Robin War Damian is 12 (and a half) THEN We’ve got an age line-up that Potentially looks Like This:

Dami -12(and 1/2), Duke - 16, Tim - 18, Steph - 19, Cass - 20-22 (And Obvsly Jason, Babs & Dick at their varying Older Ages than everyone here)

and im just now realizing i Didnt include Harper in this line-up, but thats bc she’d also throw a big wrench in all this. I’d personally throw her in with being Steph’s age, but I’m pretty sure she was supposed to be either that, or between Steph and Cass (again, since its N52, i believe Cass was/is assumed to be Younger than Steph, but that contradicts the assumed following of pre52 canon that we have for the above line-up, obvsly, and so we ignore that lmao)

All this to say, however, that canon and fandom is what you make of it, and if you want to wiggle these ages around a little, you’re more than allowed! God Knows i usually like to skew the Tim-Steph-Cass age group to be a tad older than this in my own fic writing, and I like to have Duke start as a Robin at 14/15 instead of 16, but that’s just bc I like the dynamic potential it could bring with them being Definitively Older that him, and thus in a more secure place to be Mentoring him right alongside Bruce & the others.

But you might see these age ranges and want to do something Different (say, making Tim, Steph, Cass, & Duke all the Same Age at 17 instead! And that very well tracks with how current comics kinda looks right now!) and you’re absolutely valid to do so! Because again, comic character’s ages are meant to be fluid, not fixed!

And at the end of the day, its all about wanting to see these teen heroes kick serious ass haha

#duke thomas #guest starring:#batfamily #damian wayne #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #randywrites #randys meta #meta #asked and answered #anonymous asks #this was A LOT and i tried to throw some humor where i could #but uhhhh yeah!!! i hope this helps anon!!!#also just realizing its TWO AM WHERE DID THE TIME GO #ah well. Worth It

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vegalocity · 3 years

Note

10/18 spicynoodles plis

Prompt meme || @deborahsworld

10.A Shy Kiss/18. Holding Hands

Hell yeah time for fluff

Okay... first date....Going pretty well so far. The Movie was okay—MK wasn't very big on horror movies even ones as old as this one was, but Red Son was really excited when he saw it was being played for a ‘foreign movies’ night at the movie theater and what, could have have argued against such enthusiasm?—if a bit slow going and atmospheric.

Though after the heroes found the monster frozen and seemingly dead in the abandoned Norwegian outpost, all twisted and malformed, he really hoped his appetite wouldn't be killed by the end of this with even worse when the monsters started actually moving.

And then the monsters actually started moving.

The dog turning into a monster and killing the other dogs hurt the animal lover inside him, and he felt a bit of his latent arachnophobia begin to rear its head when the hairy legs sprouted from its back, and then the actual form the monster, halfway through killing the remaining trapped dogs had sent a chill up his spine and then-

“See how they were able to make the monster look goopy? It's not really very goopy except during the close up shots, because it's an animatronic so it had to be dry most of the time, they got the shine effect by piling liquid latex ontop of the finished paintjob until it started drying while it trailed off of the frame. And that right there? When it took the hurt dog? That was actually filmed in reverse, having the tentacles start out around the dog puppet and then rapidly pull away so when they reversed it it looked like they actually moved and had torque behind the action.”

“Really?”

“Yeah it's really fascinating how they went about effects before computer graphics were refined, everything had to be practical so even if it doesn't look the best, it doesn't hit that uncanny valley that bad CGI makes because even if it doesn't look real it looks real enough.”

It didn't feel quite as disturbing with that rattling around in his head, focusing on how much work must have been done to make the monster move as realistically as possible, how many times they'd practiced and trained in a controlled sound stage and adapting it to the set...

They weren't the only ones in the theater, but it was a mostly empty showing, as was usually the case with foreign films as old as this one. So it wasn't like they were disturbing anyone with Red Son leaning over to whisper interesting details MK would have never even thought to look up to make the overall experience less scary. Red Son seemed aware that he wasn't the biggest horror fan, and was trying to soften the blows the more intense moments would bring by talking through them and bringing back the reality that it was just a movie they were watching.

“I was alive in this era and I can state with general expertise that computers were certainly not that advanced yet. Computer AI wasn't past that of your average graphing calculator until at least the mid 1990's.”

“They got that sound effect by putting a microphone in a tin trash can and recording the sound of a racecar zooming by and put it in a reverb chamber until it sounded completely unrecognizable”

“Blair is already a Thing at this point, you remember when he was dissecting the Norwegian base's monster? He was using a pencil eraser to point out that era in its chest and then he'd touched the eraser to his lip! And since it started by probably just a small contingent of shed cells it probably took him longer to assimilate than the others.”

“This is actually really cool! The stunt double for Copper that they got for the scene actually was a double amputee! They made fake hands for him out of latex, filled them with fake blood, and styled the chest jaw like a bear trap for that disgusting pulling shot.”

Though... That one didn't work as well... When the long tendril shot from the Thing's stomach and sprouted slider legs and a second head, the extending neck hissing and glaring down at the heroes, he felt his gut turn, even as the heroes took the flamethrower to the monster.

The monster's first head ripped from its body and grew spider legs. And Oh GOD that was disgusting, without thinking he reached for the edge of the armrest to grip as the heroes had to play cat and mouse with a severed, spider head. He'd missed, and his hand clapped down atop of Red Son's and squeezed.

Red Son jolted beside him and MK saw him turn in his direction in his periphery.

“You know if this is freaking you out too much we can leave.”

“No! No, it's okay. You like this movie! You wouldn't know so much about it if you didn't like it!” Besides, he shouldn't be getting so spooked about some kinda gross kinda spidery horror movie from the 1980s, what kind of hero got freaked out at a little practical effects?

He couldn't see Red Son's face very well with only the light of the movie itself to see by, but he made a strange sort of humming noise and slipped his hand out of MK's, moving his arm to put the arm rest up and then slide his hand back into his own.

“Here, that should be more comfortable then.”

And it was. Red Son's factoids and chatter alongside the movie were doing well at cutting the edge off of it again, and it was aided by not just their connected hands, but now by his physical closeness as well.

“I've heard the director had this stylistic rule about after the Things start invading, the idea is that if a character has light reflecting off their eyes they're human, if not they're a Thing.”

“Most people think Palmers was the shadow the dog assimilated back earlier but I think it was Norris, Palmers didn't get turned into a thing until after they go and talk to Blair again I don't think.”

“Actually...I don't think I like that translation very much. Like yeah it's more polite and Gary's a gentleman, but 'I'd rather not spend the rest of this winter tied to this fucking couch' emphasizes the stress of the situation better.”

And then came the time of the final confrontation, MK braced himself, squeezed Red Son's hand in his own. It was indeed gross, and frightful, and the puppetry alone was REALLY good. All those moving parts and there's no way that THAT was an animatronic so it HAD to be a puppet. And wow that was a REALLY good explosion.

...huh...Apparently he could do it too.

The movie ended with what MK felt like was a tentatively optimistic note. The remaining two heroes sharing a drink as the research facility and the monsters it housed burned around them. And you maybe get the feeling the two of them won't survive the cold, but they stopped the monsters and that’s what matters.

Though MK was right to worry over the movie killing his apatite because by the time the lights went up and the credits rolled he found he wasn't very hungry. Which felt ridiculous since he was always in need of quick carbs for Monkie Kid things. But Red Son had lost his own apatite as well apparently and the two of them could do nothing but laugh a bit awkwardly at their date being derailed by a movie being a bit too gross.

So MK pulled him into a nearby park and they went for a walk instead of the restaurant they'd planned for.

“Most people think that Childs is a Thing and I'm tempted to agree, He doesn't have the eye shine but neither does MacReady and we know he's not a Thing, but MacReady's breath is steaming and Childs' doesn't until the very end there, and MacReady wasn't drinking, those were Molotov Cocktails, that was gasoline and Childs just downed it without a thought to taste or smell.”

“So you think the Thing won at the end?”

“I don't know, but they do have one flamethrower left and Childs whether he's a Thing or not just drank gasoline. So MacReady as a person is probably as good as dead.”

“I Dunno, I like the idea that he wasn't a Thing in the end, gives it something not dissimilar to a happy ending, but like, it's not like they hadn't been wrong about who was a Thing before. The dog handler wasn't a Thing but he got shot anyway.”

“That's very true.”

It was about there that MK realized he'd yet to let go of Red Son's hand.

Well... he hadn't pulled away... MK squeezed Red Son's hand in his own, and Red Son—on a tangent about how in the time before CGI they'd made the stylistic title card with use of a fishtank, garbage bag, flash paper and a lot of smoke—squeezed him back.

A few hours and a plate or two of street vendor food when either of their appetites returned later and Red Son had insisted on walking him home. He was staying in a penthouse that his family technically owned but he was the only one who actually knew about it, and he wanted to be a gentleman before he headed back there.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself a bit. I feel as though I should apologize for choosing such a niche film, mother always said I was the only one who cared about foreign horror movies and just because I find movie effects fascinating especially in a time before technology was as advanced as it is now doesn't mean I should subject others to my incessant yammering.”

he didn't really think Red Son could pull off shy, but he'd folded his arms tightly and was very pointedly NOT looking at him now. And Sure, this felt like a big step, but that playfully self deprecating tone wasn’t gonna fly here. He moved slowly, giving Red Son time to pull away if desired. Placing one hand on Red Son's shoulder, the other on the side of his face to turn his head. He had to get on his tiptoes to make it to his level, but he leaned in-

It was nice. Soft, and Red Son of course ran hotter than an average person so it was warm too. He pulled away just as he felt Red Son start to press back against him. When MK opened his eyes, he noticed Red Son's were still closed for a moment longer before fluttering open.

“I like your incessant yammering.” He had such a cute blush. “it means you're passionate about something.”

“You... wanna come in? Monkey King gave me this new tea blend I've been meaning to try out.”

Prompt meme (I’ll stop when y’all stop sending stuff)

#Spicynoodleshipping #soff first date #Monkie Kid #MK Red Son #MK #letters to vega #Vega writes stories too #prompt meme #deborahsworld #The more times i write for Red Son the more I project hashtag autism moods #tfw u infodump on your date about an SI all night #and then SHCOK DELIGHT when you find out they think its charming

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magistralucis · 3 years

Note

I plan to read Desiderata but I don't know a thing about Rammstein. What should I know before diving in?

That depends very heavily on what about Rammstein would interest you.

I’ll be honest, anon, Desiderata is not the best story to start with if you’re completely new to R+. The story assumes a familiarity with the band’s history, as well as 1980s East German politics, and depicts both with terms and viewpoints familiar at the time. It’s not very accessible if you want to read a story about Rammstein, I’m afraid, it is very much a period piece.

That said, I can talk a little about what made me write Desiderata; if you’re interested in any of those topics, you’re probably good to go. I will also add some pointers as to how to begin a journey into Rammstein in general. This will be a very long post beneath the cut.

-------------

1) I’m interested in life during the GDR. I’m especially interested in how ordinary East Germans lived, down to what they ate, the kinds of people they’d meet, where they could travel to for the holidays. What people take for everyday occurrences are anything but outside of their homes. Most of Desiderata takes place in the pre- and early-Rammstein era (1985-1995), when the band members didn’t know they were going to get so big, nor what would happen after the reunification of Germany. I wanted to depict their era realistically. Desiderata is a written painting of that time.

2) I wanted to write on the anti-authoritarian character. To distill a long and complex history down, Rammstein has their origins in Ostpunk, and many of its band members spent their early life resisting the government in one way or another. They didn’t all do this in the same way, nor always with the conscious desire to stick it to the government. Sometimes they paid for it anyway. In Richard’s case, with terrible consequences, as his arrest and detainment by the Stasi finally made him flee the country. Desiderata is written in Richard’s POV and includes a sequence on what might have occurred during this time, as well as an analysis of his general psyche on the years leading up to that arrest. Desiderata’s account relies heavily on actual interviews Richard has done, as well as published Rammstein material, so if you’re interested in a character study of this sort you might like it.

3) I did not want to depict the above through the patronizing lens commonly found in Western media. It’s easy to fall into the trap of binary opposites when you’re writing about stuff like this: Richard was oppressed by the GDR so he must hate everything about the GDR, and/or furthermore, the GDR must have been evil. It’s the other way around if you’re approaching this from an anti-capitalist lens: if the East Germans had known the ‘freedom’ which lay beyond the wall was actually mid-stage capitalism, and if they’d known how badly that shit would break down in a couple of decades, they wouldn’t have wanted it.

Now I do not know what the objectively correct political position is here. But when you’re writing a character study of Richard, it shouldn’t be either of those. It’s definitely not how Rammstein looks at their past, judging by the interviews they’ve given and the books they’ve published; not even Richard has such a black-and-white approach to the life he led. It’s easy to forget that when you’re writing a fic, or even an article which tries to lean on the ‘facts’; one’s subconscious biases inform how they process facts, and I want to do better than that. I’ve fallen into that morality trap before because I didn’t know any better, and as a result I wrote some really bad stories, and I am ashamed of that. Rammstein have led a rich and complicated life with ups and downs. Many of them sincerely loved the GDR, the ones who didn’t still saw plenty of self-admitted good in it. If you would like to bask in my efforts at honesty, as fragmented as it is (for in the end, I am not from the GDR), Desiderata is the best I’ve done to this date.

4) Some good old Tillchard. Yes, I admit it, Desiderata is also a pairing exercise. ‘Tillchard’ is the shorthand for the pairing between Till (vocal) and Richard (lead guitarist); they are longtime friends in real life, and they share a trust between them seldom paralleled by anyone else in the band, imo. They’ve lived together for a time, they raised their daughters together, they began their foray into music in general while being aware of each other. They have duets together for God’s sake. I’ve been digging Tillchard for ten years so I need to stop before this becomes a longer essay than it should be, but long story short, if this becomes the first pairing you’re interested in I’d recommend adding Desiderata to the fanfic pile.

Ultimately, all the above points would still work out for the best if you knew more about Rammstein. Now for the practical recommendations. See if you like their music first: currently they have seven albums out, the most recent of which is Rammstein (2019). I don’t know how hard you like your music, but in order of most hardness to least my rank goes:

Liebe ist für alle da / Reise, Reise

Rammstein (2019)

Sehnsucht

Mutter

Herzeleid

Rosenrot

My personal ranking is:

Mutter

Liebe ist für alle da / Rammstein (2019)

Sehnsucht

Reise, Reise

Herzeleid

Rosenrot

Their best tracks usually have music videos attached to them. Check them out too. R+ take serious care with their music video narratives, they’re often their own little story in themselves. Their live performances are worth watching, even in video. If you can read German, I would also recommend checking out Rammstein literature, of which there are plenty. Till has three volumes of poetry out (Messer, In Stillen Nachten, 100 Gedichte); Flake has two autobiographies (Der Tastenficker and Heute hat die Welt Geburtstag, the latter of which is available in English); Mix Mir Einen Drink is the biography of Feeling B, which many members of Rammstein played in before Rammstein, and is an invaluable source for GDR life.

Out of everything I’ve listed, as of Feb 2021, Flake’s autobiography is hands-down the best place to begin your Rammstein journey. There will be a more extensive book about Rammstein by Olaf Heine soon, but it won’t be released until later this year.

There is no end goal to how much you should be interested in Rammstein, or what about the band you ought to like. At any point in this journey, try out a fic or two, see what you like. The fandom has written about basically every music video, every notable event that happened to the band (some may include sources!), and just about every combination of pairings possible among the six. You are in very well-covered territory, I promise :D

Feel free to ask more questions if need be. There is so much you can write about this band, I’ve definitely not covered everything. If at any point in this process you read Desiderata, and you end up enjoying it, that’s all I could ask for.

#Anonymous #tillchard #long post under cut #rammstein fanfiction #desiderata

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newstfionline · 3 years

Text

Friday, May 28, 2021

San Jose Shooting Leaves Eight Dead (CNN) An employee of the Valley Transportation Authority (VTA), a public transit operation in San Jose, California, went to work as usual early Wednesday morning at the VTA maintenance and dispatch rail yard. But that morning, he brought a gun and opened fire, killing at least eight coworkers and wounding others, one critically, before committing suicide. Around the same time as the shooting, a house in San Jose that is believed to be that of the shooter erupted in flames. Investigators are looking into the gunman’s motive. This mass shooting is the 232nd incident so far this year in the U.S. in which at least four people were shot.

U.S. drivers to get hit by soaring pump prices over Memorial Day holiday (Reuters) U.S. motorists will see the highest gasoline prices in seven years when they hit the roads this Memorial Day weekend, the traditional start of the summer driving season, as fuel demand surges alongside coronavirus vaccination rates. Retail gasoline prices are at about $3.04 a gallon on average nationwide, the most expensive since 2014, data from the American Automobile Association showed. And after a year of lockdowns to curb the coronavirus pandemic, tens of millions of American road-trippers are expected to be stung by those prices: More than 34 million Americans are expected to take to the highways between May 27 and May 31, AAA expects, an increase of 53% from last year but still down 10% from 2019.

Less defunding? (WSJ) One year after the movement to “defund” law enforcement began to upend municipal budgets, many American cities are restoring money to their police departments or proposing to spend more. In the nation’s 20 largest local law-enforcement agencies, city and county leaders want funding increases for nine of the 12 departments where next year’s budgets already have been proposed. The increases range from 1% to nearly 6%.

Competition, not engagement (Bloomberg) The U.S. is entering a period of intense competition with China as the government running the world’s second-biggest economy becomes ever more tightly controlled by President Xi Jinping, the White House’s top official for Asia said. “The period that was broadly described as engagement has come to an end,” Kurt Campbell, the U.S. coordinator for Indo-Pacific affairs on the National Security Council, said Wednesday at an event hosted by Stanford University. U.S. policy toward China will now operate under a “new set of strategic parameters,” Campbell said, adding that “the dominant paradigm is going to be competition.”

Poll shows Argentines expect inflation to hit 50% in next year (Buenos Aires Times) Argentines’ expectations for inflation over the next year hit a record, as government price controls have failed to tame elevated food costs. Argentines’ expectations for inflation over the next year hit a record, as government price controls have failed to tame elevated food costs. Prices rose four percent or more in three of the first four months this year, prompting the government to extend some price controls and temporarily ban beef exports. Alongside concerns of no economic plan, the government’s money printing last year to finance Covid-19 social spending is also fueling expectations for elevated inflation in 2021.

Relations in the ditch (Nikkei Asian Review) The European Parliament has voted overwhelmingly to freeze the ratification process of an investment pact with China—a deal that Beijing six months ago considered a big strategic victory. It has sent shock waves throughout China, with only one month and change before arguably the most important event in President Xi Jinping’s era, the 100th anniversary of the Chinese Communist Party’s establishment, on July 1. Some party members are worried that the centenary’s festive mood will be dampened by the harsh diplomatic reality. Not only are China’s relations with the U.S. bad, but now EU relations are stuck in a ditch.

China keeps diplomats out of espionage trial of Australian Yang Hengjun (Reuters) Australia’s ambassador to China was denied entry to a heavily guarded Beijing court on Thursday that is hearing an espionage case against Australian blogger Yang Hengjun, at a time of worsening ties between the two nations. China said the case involved state secrets and so could not be heard in open court. Yang, an Australian citizen born in China, wrote about Chinese and U.S. politics online as a high-profile blogger and also penned a series of spy novels before his detention two years ago. Diplomatic ties between the two nations have deteriorated sharply since Yang was detained, with China imposing trade sanctions on produce from Australia and reacting angrily to its call for an international inquiry into the origins of the coronavirus, as well as its 5G ban on telecoms giant Huawei. Details of the Yang case have been shrouded in secrecy, with no information released on which espionage agency he is alleged to have acted for. If convicted Yang faces a jail term of 10 years or more on charges of endangering national security.

The Super Rich Are Choosing Singapore as the World’s Safest Haven (Bloomberg) When Singaporean car dealer Keith Oh first read the Facebook message, he wasn’t sure it was real. A Chinese client ordered a S$1.1 million ($830,000) Bentley—sight unseen—over the social network. “They just asked for the price and when we could do the delivery, that’s all,” he said. “It’s a million dollars to us but it’s probably nothing to them.” Money is sloshing around Singapore like never before. As the coronavirus pandemic hammers Southeast Asia and political turmoil threatens Hong Kong, the city has become a safe harbor for some of the region’s wealthiest tycoons and their families. Singapore has long been a draw for wealthy Chinese, Indonesians and Malaysians who would come for short trips. The pandemic has changed all that, prompting many tycoons and their families to stay for months, in some cases seeking residency to ride out the storm. On a per capita basis, the mortality rates in Malaysia and Indonesia are more than 10 and 30 times higher than in Singapore, according to data collected by Johns Hopkins University.

A Wave of Afghan Surrenders to the Taliban Picks Up Speed (NYT) Ammunition was depleted inside the bedraggled outposts in Laghman Province. Food was scarce. Some police officers hadn’t been paid in five months. Then, just as American troops began leaving the country in early May, Taliban fighters besieged seven rural Afghan military outposts across the wheat fields and onion patches of the province, in eastern Afghanistan. The insurgents enlisted village elders to visit the outposts bearing a message: Surrender or die. By mid-month, security forces had surrendered all seven outposts after extended negotiations, according to village elders. At least 120 soldiers and police were given safe passage to the government-held provincial center in return for handing over weapons and equipment. “We told them, ‘Look, your situation is bad—reinforcements aren’t coming,’” said Nabi Sarwar Khadim, 53, one of several elders who negotiated the surrenders. Since May 1, at least 26 outposts and bases in just four provinces—Laghman, Baghlan, Wardak and Ghazni—have surrendered after such negotiations, according to village elders and government officials. With morale diving as American troops leave, and the Taliban seizing on each surrender as a propaganda victory, each collapse feeds the next in the Afghan countryside.

Israeli Police Round Up Palestinian Protesters Out of Global Spotlight (The Intercept) Palestinian activists urged the world not to look away from their struggle for freedom and equality following the ceasefire in Gaza, as Israeli police began rounding up Palestinian citizens of Israel who took part in demonstrations described as riots by the authorities. At least 74 Palestinians were detained by Monday afternoon, in the first hours of what Israel’s police force is calling “Operation Law and Order.” Palestinian rights groups called the planned arrest of up to 500 protesters—on charges ranging from attacks on the police to vandalism to online incitement—a blatant crackdown on dissent, timed to coincide with the dimming of the global spotlight on the conflict. “Israeli forces and police are going on a mass arresting rampage in Lydd, and other Palestinian cities in an attempt to ‘even the score’ with Palestinians that spoke up against their ethnic cleansing,” the Palestinian writer Mariam Barghouti observed on Twitter, as video of two men being detained and blindfolded in the city Israelis call Lod circulated online. “This is what we warned about. Israel will target us all when you stop looking.” “The world tends to look away as soon as Israeli lives are no longer threatened by rockets but it is stuff like this, that Israel does to Palestinians every day, that guarantees future rounds,” the writer and political analyst Yousef Munayyer commented on the same images.

UN envoy: Syrian people face immense humanitarian suffering (AP) The U.N. special envoy for Syria said Wednesday it’s “a tragic irony” that ordinary Syrians are facing “immense and growing humanitarian suffering” at this time of relative calm in the more than 10-year conflict. Geir Pedersen pointed to “economic destitution, a pandemic, displacement, detention and abduction—all while violent conflict, terrorism and human rights abuses continue” in the country. While the military situation is relatively calm in some areas, Pedersen said, “recurring signs of a hot conflict are abundant.” He cited spikes in violence in several areas, with shelling by both sides, airstrikes including some by Israel, and more attacks attributed to the Islamic State extremist group. On the economic front, Pedersen said, the Syrian pound has stabilized somewhat “but the price of essential goods and transportation costs are increasingly outside of the grasp of many Syrians.” And in many areas, basic services including water, electricity and health “remain compromised,” he said. U.N. humanitarian chief Mark Lowcock stressed the dire water situation, saying reduced water levels in the Euphrates river which started in January “reached a critical point this month.”

Famine Looms in Ethiopia’s War-Ravaged Tigray Region, U.N. Says (NYT) Famine is now knocking on the door of Ethiopia’s Tigray region, where a civil war that erupted last year has drastically cut the food supply and prevented relief workers from helping the hungry, the top U.N. humanitarian official has warned. In a confidential note to the United Nations Security Council, the official, Mark Lowcock, the under secretary general for humanitarian affairs, said sections of Tigray, a region of more than five million people, are now one step from famine—in part because the government has obstructed aid shipments. “Humanitarian operations are being attacked, obstructed or delayed in delivering lifesaving assistance,” Mr. Lowcock wrote, and at least eight aid workers have been killed.

Thousands evacuate Congo’s Goma amid more volcanic activity (AP) Tens of thousands of people are fleeing the city of Goma in eastern Congo fearing another volcanic eruption by Mount Nyiragongo, which spewed lava near the city last week. Traffic was jammed and pedestrians streamed through the streets, desperate to escape the impending danger. A new eruption could occur at any moment, the military governor of Congo’s North Kivu province, Lt. Gen. Constat Ndima Kongba, announced early Thursday. He ordered the evacuation of 10 of the 18 neighborhoods in the city of 2 million people. The center of Goma, which was spared when the volcano erupted last week, is now under threat, with activity being reported near the urban area and Lake Kivu, Kongba said. Residents were advised to carry very little and told not to return to their homes until advised by authorities. Many people were seen heading northwest toward the town of Sake and east toward Rwanda. International organizations such as the U.N. mission in Congo had on Wednesday already begun evacuating their staff.

#headlines #news

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arcticdementor · 3 years

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Some rambling, poorly-organized thoughts on state structures

On the recent nationalism and nations discussion, I don't want to give the wrong impression of my views, lest I seem like some sort of dedicated supporter of homogenous ethnostates.

After all, I've repeatedly said that it seems like practically nobody actually believes in Westphalian sovereignty anymore.

I get that nationalism creates a lot of problems, particularly in the wake of the breakup — or especially, carving up by outsiders — of a multiethnic, multicultural empire. The nigh-impossibility of fitting political borders to the human geography (thus usually leading the human geography to be forcibly transformed to match the political borders instead).

I mean, just earlier this month, when reading about the "highest" High German dialects, I wiki-walked my way into reading about the mess that was post WWI South Tyrol — a mess created by Woodrow Wilson's hard-on for "national self-determination" (and ignorance of the actual demography) — how one guy (Ettore Tolomei) created Italian place names to replace all the Austrian ones, and how its (Austro-Bavarian) German-speaking majority eventually faced the choice of either forced Italianization under the Fascists or relocation to Nazi Germany.

Or this recent thread at the Motte about the history of the Balkans from a couple of natives thereof, with, again, plenty of blame for Woodrow Wilson's dismantlement of the Habsburg domains.

Plus, I've seen plenty of people, left and right, argue that much of the problems of the Middle East are due to how the Western powers, and particularly Britain, carved up the failing Ottoman Empire (and yes, for many of the left-leaning ones, the creation of the modern state of Israel is at or near the top of that list).

One can also see all the messes in the former Soviet Union — Moldova, Transnistria, Ossetia, Abkhazia, Crimea, the Donets Basin, Nagorno-Karabakh, et cetera — as a similar "breakup of an empire" mess.

On the other hand, though, I also recall people once arguing that one of the major harms European colonialism inflicted upon Africa in "the scramble" was carving out territories and drawing up borders willy-nilly, without concern for the existing ethnic, linguistic, and cultural groupings — causing some groups who identified as one people to be split apart in some cases, and in others causing differing groups with historical animosities to be forced together. And further, that "fixing" this would involve African nations reorganizing themselves along ethno-religio-cultural-linguistic lines. (I have a further aside on this I may write-up later.)

And multi-ethnic empires have their own issues. Sure, some have allowed the constituent ethnic groups a fair amount of autonomy, such as the Ottoman "millet" system. But others, not so much — look at what happened to Gaulish and the other continental Celtic languages under Roman rule; or "Hanification" in China.

In multi-ethnic empires, there's always one central, ruling ethicity — usually the one that founded it. And there's a general extractive flow of wealth from the periphery to the core, and from subject peoples to the ruling people (when this flow reverses, and the ostensible rulers are instead paying the other peoples, is often when the Empire begins failing — note that it was the Turkish national movement that ultimately overthrew the Sultan). Plus, said rulers often play the subject peoples against each other.

In short, nationalist states have some problems, empires have some different problems.

Someone in one of the reply chains also made reference to Medieval kingdoms; particularly, to the idea that a ruler was "King of France" — because that's where the bulk of the territory he held was located — rather than "King of the French" — ruler of a specific people. The kind of thing that led to situations like the Spanish Netherlands, Norman Sicily, the King of England also being the Elector of Hanover, the kings of Sweden and Poland each claiming to be the rightful monarch of both territories, and so on.

Despite that, there's much to favor in such a thing. But, as so many people keep reminding me when I bring up my monarchist views, this was the product of a number of specific preconditions. First, the utter disintegration of the western Roman Empire, leaving mostly just hyper-local identities — particularly once the Germanic migrations stopped, and the Franks and Goths assimilated to their local subjects.

Second, that the kings, particularly at the start of any given dynasty, and even sometimes well into the Early Modern period, were basically warlords — I recall reading one historian refer to Gustavus Adolphus as "the worst kind of sociopath," and another argue that the life story of Henry VII is, in its broad strokes, basically the same as any number of Latin American dictators. Look at Clovis I, Harald Hardrata, or William the Conqueror, or…

Third, this state of affairs was also a product of the comparative weakness of those kings. Because, for quite some time, pretty much any local baron who owned a castle was a power to be reckoned with, and kings were often more "first among equals" with these lords — see King John, the Magna Carta, the Barons' War, and so on. This was a product of the military technologies of the time; effective war-fighting was by highly-trained, heavily-equipped elite cavalry — knights — who were expensive… but not so expensive that local lords couldn't afford to maintain an effective retinue of them. Defensive fortifications like castles were highly effective, and slow and costly to besiege.

Then cannons and early firearms came along, which actually served to centralize power — kings were able to use them to take more power and authority from the aristocracy, leading to the replacement of decentralized feudal structures with royal absolutism (and a growing central bureaucracy to run and manage said centralized government). Then later firearms made the average commoner with little training into an effective war-fighter — thus "the Age of the Gun" and resulting democratization of the centralized state.

I'll admit, it's hard to see a pathway back to that sort of mid-level balance — where neither the numbers of the common masses nor the deep pockets of a centralized state provide much advantage in war over a localized petty elite. The "Age of the Gun" may have ended, but our current military modes (with multi-million-dollar equipment) again favor the centralized state — either a nation-state or an empire — over both local authority and the common citizen. Some argue that 4th-generation warfare might see a return of "people power" (though I have my doubts); and I've seen others debate how expensive effective autonomous weapons of a coming "Age of the Drone" might prove, and thus what scale of political organization it favors.

Then there's the city-state, which has even more local autonomy, and which seems to be in many ways a preferable manner of organization. But the problem there, is that they almost always run afoul of the economies of scale in war-fighting. There's a reason those feudal barons, for all their power, ended up pledging fealty to one king or another, and even in the modern era, unless you either have somehow obtained WMDs with an effective long-distance delivery system, or are under the protective aegis of a larger polity with such, a lone city-state is just too easy to push around militarily, if not de-facto conquer.

Sure, Nick Land argued that while nuclear-tipped ICBMs will remain out of reach for microstates, we can expect city-states to proliferate again once DNA technologies mean they can have a WMD deterrent in the form of "$1000 smallpox" or other bioweapons. I don't suppose I have to tell you, particularly now, why having hundreds of labs around the world manufacturing and storing virulent and deadly man-made plagues does not sound like a good idea to me.

Going all the way back to Westphalia, again, I'd like to note that the key principle there was not anything about nationalism directly, but about religion — ending the generations of bloody post-Reformation wars with the "truce" principle of cuius regio, eius religio. That the religion of each state was the business of its government and its government only, and that it's no longer a ruler's place to intervene in a neighboring ruler's territory to rescue the souls of his subjects from vile heresy with fire and sword.

There's a certain echo of this in the proposals of certain libertarian, ex-libertarian, and libertarian-adjacent left-wing people of a loose confederation of microstates wherein, in an example of exit-over-voice, people are free to relocate so as to sort themselves on ideological (compare to religious) lines. Friedman's seasteads, Yarvin's "patchwork," and Alexander's "archipelago" all come to mind as core examples. But these have a number of issues. First, the ways in which they presuppose a level of mobility, of ability and willingness to relocate, that I find unrealistic to expect from much of the population. I note here that it seems to be a very specific sort of person who recommends this sort of solution.

Second, it very much requires a Westphalian live-and-let-live, what happens in the patch next door is none of my business no matter how wrong I believe it to be, attitude. But replace "one true faith" with "universal human rights" and saving souls from heresy with "humanitarian intervention," and we see that, like I said before, such a spirit is quite dead — "all it takes for evil to triumph…", "an injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere", et cetera. Like we saw with Libya, unless you have the WMD-MAD means to prevent it, expect the superpower to enact "regime change" on you if your way of life somehow offends their particular "universal" orthodoxy.

TL;DR: nation-state, empire, feudal kingdom, city-states, patchwork — it's trade-offs all around.

#nationalism #empire #peace of westphalia #nation-state #feudalism #dark ages #fall of rome #ottoman empire #africa #cuius regio eius religio #long #effortposting #rambling

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vanquishedvaliant · 3 years

Note

The sidedish is scrolling your blog and not finding you talking about new anime

I must not be hip enough to recognize precisely what you’re getting at by ‘sidedish’, but I just don’t usually post it much on tumblr unprompted anymore because writeups are a pain, they don’t usually get much traction, and I’m more than satisfied talking about it in discord with people that are actually going to listen and respond.

I DO have thoughts on new anime I can serve if it’s that in demand, though.

Here’s what I’m watching this season with some initial reaction ratings based on the first couple episodes

New this season;

Wonder Egg Priority 10/10

UraSekai Picnic 10/10

Kumo desu ga, nani ka 8/10

Kemono Jihen 9/10

Hortensia Saga 7/10

Soukou Musume Senki 7/10

Gekidol 6/10

Sequels;

Cells at Work 9/10

Cells at Work: Black! 9/10

Uma Musume Pretty Derby 10/10

Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken 8/10

Log Horizon 8/10

Dr Stone 10/10

Continuing from last season;

Higurashi ... Gou 10/10

Hanyou no Yashahime 6/10

Jujutsu Kaisen 10/10

I’m also watching the original Higurashi in between off days to catch up to where Gou is, since I’d never seen it before and it’s clear I’m not getting the full story in Gou anymore without it.

Deeper thoughts under the cut.

Wonder Egg Priority and Urasekai Picnic are the clear AOTS contenders. Both are at once extremely superficially similar but very different in practice, and both bring something unique and charming to the table.

Urasekai is extremely notable at being a well executed supernatural adventure anime that is also a yuri; as much as I love pure romances like Bloom into You or Adachi and Shimamura, it’s very rare that we get anime with lesbian main characters or WLW romance where the romance itself isn’t the focus, that includes a serious, intriguing plot alongside the elements of romance. You know, like straight people get without a question every single story ever.

It’s got this very classic cryptid / SCP / otherworld adventure feel and has the right comedic and tension beats to be quite good, though its long term impact will be determined by what kind of further message it has.

Wonder Egg Priority immediately comes off with extremely powerful vibes in the vein of things like Flip Flappers, which I mean in the highest compliment. A surreal, metaphor-filled story of dreams and desires and well laid subtext, with colourful, exotic action and a snappy pace. This one’s extremely interesting to me, and its first episode was masterfully efficient in setting up its premise both aesthetically and thematically.

The real test for Wonder Egg will come with time; this is a story that trades heavily in meaning; so it’ll have to run longer and come to a conclusion to really test what kind of impact it’ll have. For now, I’m VERY interested and cautiously optimistic.

Spider Isekai is a charming twist on the typical flood of fantasy game / isekai stories placing our protagonist at the extreme low end of the power curve, and quite UNLIKE Slime Isekai or most others on the market like last season’s Kuma Bear, this one seems intent on keeping her there rather than immediately granting her insane godlike powers and thrusting her back above the curve.

The parts of the show that focus on the spider herself are lovely; there’s a real tension and sense of stakes in her struggle to adapt, slowly getting used to her new body and gaining levels and abilities, making even simple conflicts against frogs or lizards seem life threatening and serious, giving us a real reason to root for her.

On the other hand, the show frequently switches focus to... the entire other classroom of isekai’d children which is by far less interesting. There’s potential in there somewhere for a story about mass isekai’d kids adapting, but other than some details like one girl being gender swapped, and another being the class pet, there’s just really not much interesting about them at the moment and these sections just feel like a waste of time while waiting for the Spider to come back.

I don’t doubt that they’ll eventually meet up and have their stories intertwine... but at the moment, I don’t think I actually want that to happen. We’ll see where this one goes.

Kemono Jihen took me by surprise, and I wasn’t planning to watch this one unti l saw some screencaps. But the first two episodes have been outstanding, giving us a fantastic supernatural mystery detective agency plot and characters with real emotions, eye catching action scenes, and a compelling mystery.

Definitely looking forward to more of this one.

Hortensia Saga seems like a fairly typical fantasy war chronicle RPG story. It feels very in the vein of early to mid era fire emblems, and I happen to like anime like this that are solidly executed, like Grancrest Senki a while back. It’s doing a good enough job so far to keep my interest. Nothing game changing here, but a decent offering.

Soukou Musume Senki; this one also comes across in the standard seasonal fare of superpowered teenagers fighting aliens, this time with power armor and mild isekai elements. The monster designs are good this time, and the second episode brought us some nice moral / political dialogue showcasing some level of self awareness and depth. It’s fun so far.

Gekidol this show wants really badly to be compared favourably to Shoujo Kageki Starlight Revue. They’re hamming up the theatre tropes, putting out specials, sliding in secret background lore. First episode was fairly interesting, but the second seriously dropped the ball with its half assed Idol episode, and incredibly tone deaf play at a heartwarming moment.

I’m gonna keep watching this one for now, but it really needs to prove to me it has some meat and isn’t going to just keep borrowing tropes from other shows to lend it superficial “deep” merits.

For sequels,

Cells at Work is as cute, wholesome, and info-taining as ever. I think the OP this time is missing a little oomph, but the show itself is still going strong.

Cells at Work: Black! is offering a new take on it with a slightly darker and mature setting with a stressed out alcholic smoker at risk of contracting STDS, with a little bleaker tone and harsher stakes. It relies on the background of the original Cells at Work to work both tonally and narratively, but with that support it provides something quite interesting and unique.

The usual Cells at Work metaphors and humanization of bodily processes are just as excellent as always, and I’m giving special credit to the sketch about alcholic liver damage being compared to drunken abuse of host club employees, displaying a perhaps obvious if natural juxtaposition of the physical and emotional damage the substance abuse is causing to both the body itself and others around them.

Uma Musume; Horse girls! Racing! Just as surprisingly excellent as last season, giving us a fantastic sports story anime with charming characters and balanced stakes, with a good helping of humour. Easy recommend.

Slime Isekai: This one’s still going strong but has diverged from it’s original premise quite seriously. There’s nothing intriguing about this being an isekai about being reincarnated as a slime anymore; and he’s way too overpowered for any of the combat to have any stakes. What it DOES have however is a fascinating look at the birth of a fantasy nation of monsters, politics, science, and social development of a varied and multicultural monster nation. And THAT I’m still in for.

I will seriously never forgive them for making Bobcut Lizardgirl into a regular ass human though. It has a serious problem with de-monsterizing its character designs and seriously reducing their appeal.

Log Horizon the true king of MMO isekai is back after 7 long, long years, and it’s jumping STRAIGHT into the depth of its political intrigue and deep understanding and development of the socio political issues inherent to its setting. Somewhat dry as ever, but truly fascinating for those looking at a more serious exploration of what the concept of living in a game actually means.

Dr Stone: I don’t have to hype this up, do I? Mad science speedrunning the development of human culture from the stone age up! This time they’re going to war! They made cell phones and cup ramen out of rocks! It’s heartwarming, emotionally rich, entertaining and informative, and funny as all hell. A classic for sure.

Higurashi. Everyone knows higurashi. Thing is, I just never watched it. We thought Gou was going to be a remake, but then it ended up being Rebuild of Evangelion, so I stopped at episode 12 or so and went back to watch the original. Classic horror mystery.

Yashahime. Yikes. This one’s... well. I don’t have any especial nostalgia or affection for Inuyasha like many people, but Yashahime is clearly a very middling approximation of it. There’s things to like here, the main trio of characters are all great designs, Moroha standing even head and shoulders above them as a truly endearing goblin child, and it really does feel in ways like 90s toonami fare. But there’s some lack of depth going on here, and I just don’t even know what to say about the Sesshoumaru pedophilia thing. Extremely questionable plotting.

#Anonymous #TFWI #anime #anime recommendations #seasonal anime

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border-spam · 4 years

Text

Brother

Fun little Leech Lord Au dialogue scene snippet with Jak-Knife, owned by @godkingsanointed

Mid COV era

“Ahh.. -fuck-" Sei snorts between her hands as she winces, cupping her nose.

“...Oh.. It’s you."

She’d stepped out of Troy’s Sanctum ship’s mag-locked blast doors and directly into the solid flesh of his personal bodyguard, the perfect ending to her already rough night.

Jak-Knife says nothing, shifting slowly to the side politely to let her past.

"Why are you here anyway it’s.. it’s like 3am.” she groans, pinching her nose and wiggling the bridge a little. “Don’t you have, em..uhh” snapping her fingers in concentration as she groggily looks down at her feet. “Vanguard! Yeah, vanguard to do it? Thought you lead his protection”.

”…yeah, I do.“ JK replies, unsure if they should be speaking to the Mechanicum’s Saint without reason to do so, especially when she’s obviously a little drunk considering the way she’s wobbling in front of their heavily muscled frame.

They stand in silence for a moment, JK staring down through their Bandit mask’s UV lenses at the tiny woman eying them suspiciously, clearly not impressed with their answer.

"I’m awake.” they continue. “Vanguard’s not, he’s not.” they point a blunt finger at the reinforced titanium door behind her. “I watch out while he can’t. That’s what I’m for.”

She sniffs, glancing over her shoulder at the massive Skag skull looming above the entrance. “Pal... I don’t think protecting this door is necessary. I figure you could guard him just as well from inside. C'mon.” she offers, pressing her wrist against the DNA scanner by the door and watching as it reads her pulse and signature.

“.. I owe you for the necklace anyway.” The smirk she aims at them is joined by a wink, and she gestures for them to enter as the door hisses open.

JK pauses a second, flexing and relaxing a heavy paw by their hip, then steps forward and passes by her with a nod. “That was repayment” they gruff. She snorts a husky chuckle and steps through after them into the dark of Troy’s quarters, jogging past to kick the God King’s discarded boots out of their way as she guides them toward the kitchen.

“Nah, I tinkered with a broken shield. YOU. You made something for me. Big difference. Biiiig, biiiiig difference.” waggling a finger over her shoulder at them chidingly.

“Take it you’ve seen his “Holy Chambers” before?” she piqued, waving her arm grandly around the mood-lit quarters before placing her finger over her lips and pointing in the direction of the wheezing, quiet snores emanating from Troy’s silhouette in the darkness, a heap of limbs and furs splayed across the curved couch recessed into the rec area in the center of his ship.

JK’s voice drops to a cracking whisper as they pad after her, wary of waking the God King. “Yeah. Plenty of times. Bring him back here if he’s not too good, help him with projects when he needs the extra hand and won’t admit it. Been here lots.”

“No need to be quiet.” Sei calls back louder than they expected, pulling out a chair for them by the glossy black kitchen’s small table. “You’re not gonna wake him. He’s floating through another reality right now, hah” she laughs, pulling open the fridge and reaching in to grab a couple of beers.

“No idea what he took. Only had a couple and he got weird, said he needed to sleep, something about knees tryin’ to eat him or some shit.” Jk nodded knowingly, graciously taking the bottle she offered before she slid into the seat facing them, rubbing at the dusting of mascara under her eye.

“Eh, don’t usually like people seeing me this messed up, Jak-Knife” Sei sighed, slumping a little further in her seat as she popped the lid off her bottle with the shaped edge of an angular bangle around her wrist. “You don’t seem the sort to gossip though, am I right?”

JK grunted a laugh, twisting the top off their own brew with a bare hand. “No. Waste of breath. You look like you, anyway. Just less paint.” They lift their mask to take a swig from the bottle, just enough to slide it to their lips.

“Appreciate it then, keep my lack of paint between us.” Sei smirked, leaning forward to prop her cheek in her hand as she rested an elbow on the table, eying them coyly. “You’re.. you’re loyal, but you’re not a believer, are you.” She offered, narrowing her eyes a little as she gestures at their bare chest.

“The vanguard are covered in tattoos and scars, seen one with his snakes carved into their stomach, like they want to be him” she grimaces, taking another drink. “You got nothin, so your loyalty’s from somewhere else then, right? They don’t make Saints out of blind followers..”

JK nodded. “Nothin on the outside, no. Don’t need it, grip he has on me is on the inside. Stronger, ready to rip my spine out if it needs. Would happily let it for a brother.”

Seifa nods slowly, understanding. “Family.”

“Family.” they echo. “Watched one burn. Pandora’s like that. Either burn alongside them or get walking. Pick yourself up or wait for the rakks” - they point at the ceiling, Seifa watching quietly as they continue.

“Walked and kept goin, didn’t look ahead, feet know what they’re doin by now. Sand can call you in this place. Walked into the COV. Walked to him ”- they nod towards the shadows to their right, and the recessed couch, the soft breathing trailing from it.

“It felt like family again, or the seeds of it. Same blood and bruises, he just keeps his hidden under steel. I don’t need steel. I can be the strong one so he doesn’t have to pretend.”

She’s nodding, looking at her hands as she tilts the bottle thoughtfully, JK appreciates that she’s clearly listening and not interrupting them.

“You though..” they lift the bottle towards her. “I don’t get you. Nothing against you lady, but there’s something off. This place, this planet, this isn’t your bones, is it. Why are you here?”

She breathes out a sigh, leaning back and resting her head on the edge of the chair, flittering her eyes between the dim spotlights in the kitchen area’s ceiling. “Same reason. Exact same reason.”

“I figure we might have a bit more in common than I would have thought the first time I saw you prowling behind him. You’d think I’d know by now to stop assuming based on appearances, huh. God..” She shifts forward again, tired eyes peering into the lenses of their mask, searching for the glint of their own.

“I’m just a bit shook up…” her voice cracks as she mutters. “He said some stupid shit tonight, bout how everyone leaves him and he knows it’s..” she sighs, letting her head drop to face the table with a weak shrug.

“Stupid as in.. it got to me. He ever say anything to you that’s just.. you know it’s off? I sometimes think it’s me..”

JK waited patiently, wanting to reach out and rest a hand on her shoulder but not quite knowing if that would overstep their tentative friendship as it formed.

“…that I’m going crazy and feeling things that aren’t real, overreacting…” she pauses, swiping her auburn hair back from her forehead, thumbing at her temple as she lets her eyes stare unfocused at the wall behind their shoulder.

JK grunts thoughtfully, then shakes their head a little, their mask tilting downwards as they rumble out a huff of air. “He’s… talking a lot more recently, yeah, bout things no one asked.”

They empty the bottle in a deep dreg, and lower it carefully to the table in front of them, spinning it slowly on its edge. “Like he’s replyin’ to a question that was never said, and he’s pissed about it. Gets snappy at nothin’. Gets angry at nothin’. I don’t say things, I just listen. He likes when you just listen, I think you know that too.”

She nods, watery eyes looking up at them through her thick eyelashes.

“It’s just, the thing’s he’s saying now, this last year?” JK glances to their side again, towards where Troy sleeps.

They turn back to Seifa and reach out then, touching a finger against her forearm as it rests against the table, happy to see she doesn’t flinch away even though she’s hurt too. Proud that though she’s struggling to hold back tears that swell along her lash-line, she’s still listening to them. Really listening, like what JK thinks matters.

“It’s the same kind of things axe-hands I knew in the clan would start to say before they’d go wrong. Harsh things to themselves, about themselves, about how others were seeing ‘em. I don’t like that kind of talk much either, I’ve seen where it goes. People start doing that and they aren’t themselves for much longer. Become the same thing they were worryin’ everyone already saw them as.”

They turn the bottle to its side, idly twirling it with their index finger, only the hollow grind of the glass on the table filling the silence.

“I’ve seen him goin’ the same way. Same way they did, and I don’t know how to stop it, I’m not good with..” they gesture at the bone white mask still marked with that crumbling splash of old rust-red blood, pausing to collect their thoughts. “..Not good with talking the way it would help. Saw him hurt acolytes the last few months. He used to just grab, threaten...”.

Their leg bounces beneath the table, nerves firing haphazardly as they swallow down the frustration lodged between their teeth. “Now he grinds. Cracks their bones in that metal fist. Not enjoyin’ it, not laughin’, but doin’ it anyway. He smells like bitter antiseptic sometimes, and I think he’s takin’ things out on himself where he figures we won’t know, under the steel.”

“I don’t think he is well. Inside him. None of us are here, lady. We’re all broken a little, but we learn how to live with it. It’s that or die. He doesn’t know how to do it. We gotta...”

“... we gotta watch out for our brother”.

Asks are Open!

#troy calypso #seifa #jak-knife #borderlands #leech lord #my writing

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lordeasriel · 3 years

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I really care about your opinion, how do you feel about the bbc show and the way it's going?

I feel like before I give my take, I need to say that I understand the show is its own thing, and while I do wish they did a better job adapting certain things, I understand that sometimes there is a need for radical change or cut, especially when your budget is not super high (which HDM does have a lot of money into it, still is not a super big budget production, so they have to worry about these things). And I do enjoy many things about the show, but my overall vibe is mixed, to be honest. I’m stating this now because people often question whether I like the show or not, becaus I do criticise it a lot, and I simply have a critic view of the things I like, which is why I discuss them a lot and it can be overwhelming.

My main issues with the show are these 3 things: (which I’ll put under the cut because this got a bit longer than I wanted to lmao sorry)

Lack of worldbuilding and loose lore: I’ve been talking about this since day one, and this mostly applies to season 1 because I can’t judge season 2 yet because it’s not fully aired yet, but the show suffers from lack of worldbuilding, especially in Lyra’s world, which is the world that sets everything in motion. I still dislike the fact they introduced Will mid-NL, I don’t think he needed all those episodes to establish something that easily could’ve been done in S2 and because they gave TSK a lot of time, other parts of Lyra’s world suffered considerably, mainly the witches and the Magisterium.

The show doesn’t really expand on those two groups, especially, and I think that’s not good, especially the Magisterium (which they have over simplified by making it one big baddie, or so it seems at least, not to mention that implying a single leader for them practically ruins Marcel Delamare’s arc in TBOD and I’m very mad about that lmao). A lot of the Magisterium plot has that infighting aspect, which creates tension on their side as well as against their enemies, but the show doesn’t really explore that or the nuances of the Church, and they also don’t explore how varied the witches are, and I feel like this is a serious mistake. (The portrayal of the witches is by far my least favourite thing in the show, if I’m being honest).

Dull parallel world (and lack of daemons): this ties a bit with the worldbuilding aspect, but this is mainly about design choices. I think the show doesn’t make Lyra’s world as unique as it should be. On its own the world looks pretty and the outfits of most of the cast are great, but when you realise that Will’s world is intertwined with that, you don’t really feel like these two worlds are vastly different.

There is an odd situation in which Marisa’s fashion feels 30s/40s, but most of the men from her social circle (not fair to compare with the gyptians) just wear plain suits and they look much more modern. And while I get that they went for a timeless vibes, with different eras and styles, Lyra’s world feels like a caricature and it doesn’t feel believable. The colour palette is mostly the same for both worlds (even in s2, it’s hard to tell much of the difference because either the scenes are indoors or at night.) This, paired with the lack of daemons (which has been discussed many times in the fandom) kinda bums me out.

Marisa’s oversimplification: I’m mentioning Marisa, specifically, because she is the one that suffers the most due to this writing issues, but other characters like Lord Asriel, MacPhail, the general collective of the Witches, they all suffer from the writing trying to take away the nuances of them and make them flatter than in the book. Marisa is the worst because without her complexity and her flaws, she simply gets dull and boring and flavourless, and it’s kinda what has been happening in the show in my opinion. All she does is weep and she has no strength that doesn’t rely on a random fit of rage that dies out and she gets upset. There’s some great moments, like when she mimics the Monkey, but most of the time she’s just a shadow of who she is supposed to be.

The show tries really hard to make her a Scorned Mother - right from the get go, they try to makes us see how she wants Lyra, how she struggles with her “bad nature” and how that affects their relationship. There is this lingering implication that Lyra was taken from her against her wishes; they make it seem like being a mother to Lyra is her driving force, the only reason why she seeks power and influence. And that is the opposite of Book! Marisa, who is a force of nature, ruthless and ambitious, with not an ounce of maternal instinct.

She does eventually decide to help Lyra, instead of harming her, but even that action comes from a narcisistic place: Lyra is to her a possession, something that belongs to her, and that she wants to preserve. The show just handles her badly, falling into overused, boring tropes that struck far from the book version.

These are usually my main complaints about the show, and they upset me every episode to the point I’m practically ignoring them now lmao The show does a lot of good things too, making Will less of a prick, restoring Lyra’s personality from the first book into S2 Lyra (so far, please keep it that way), Mary is looking great too. They have mostly a great cast, and they did improve the daemons this season (except uh, there are far less daemons to show because of the other worlds - and the Ruta Skadi daemon change pisses me off tbh).

They do have a lot of interest in the show, but the writing (the main issue to me) feels clunky and childish, with the show toning down most of the themes that make His Dark Materials so special, especially to me (which frankly I expected them to do, but it still stings a bit). They make the Magisterium a single bad entity that feels more Authoritarian-Fascist, than a theocracy (even if they sneak in the religious symbols and rituals and garments, it’s just not a good portrayal, it’s very tame and shy); and they try to justify Marisa’s actions (especially in current interviews, there’s lots of talk about how her background will play in the show to “explain why she is the way she is”). The fact the Magisterium is portrayed as pure evil makes it looks less familiar than it should be, and therefore they don’t look scary, they seem like a caricature, a joke.

A lot of the essence of the characters get lost, and the core message of the story too, like when Iorek and the Gyptians tell Lyra she can be one of them, to support her lack of “proper family”, when that is the opposite of the books message. It doesn’t make sense for them to change that, other than maybe Jack Thorne wanted to because it makes the story feels less hopeless, but it’s why he fails to adapt these character - he doesn’t capture the essence, he tries to write these character with gaps in them.

However, the thing that annoys me the most is how they portray Asriel. It’s just... it’s bad. Really bad, which is a shame cause James is talented as fuck, but he had little time to film for season 1, and then they portrayed him very poorly. That scene when he addresses Roger in episode 7 is ridiculous, Asriel would never behave that way; there was relief in him finding Roger was there too, yes, but not to that extent and not in such a cringe way. Asriel is not deranged or irrational, he is a man on a mission, and Roger was a tool (there is no pleasure in Asriel taking his life and no excuses - it needed to be done and he did it); they just needed him to sound creepy in the show for whatever reason.

I hated how they handled the bridge scene for Asriel, Lyra and Marisa, but that’s long and complicated for me to explain here. In S2, there has been some mentions of him so far, including the implication he might have ruined Cittàgazze himself and I frankly don’t understand where did they get that idea. But the cherry on the top was Thorold telling Marisa that Asriel was gonna kill Lyra and that’s just-- that’s so dumb. That’s genuinely dumb writing, because Thorold knows Lyra followed Asriel to the mountain, and while I do believe Asriel would have killed Lyra if Roger wasn’t there, there is no way Thorold should know or consider that Asriel was gonna hurt Lyra, because Roger was there. In fact, Thorold’s interactions with Asriel in episode 8 already disprove this, so either Thorold was lying in S2 for the sake of, I don’t know, chaos or whatever, or the person who wrote this was a five-star, solid gold, fucking moron.

I’m not gonna mention the lost episode because that was no one’s fault, but the fact that they discarded an episode that all information we have on imply that it was important to set up the backstory of the angels and the city, it’s... concerning. It means they wrote something parallel that should’ve been woven into the season.

The truth is, I still watch the show on Sundays, and I still like some stuff they do (especially Mary’s stuff, so far), and despite me slandering the show per your request anon lol (cause unfortunately my honest opinion is mixed, I just don’t try to overfocus on the negative on Tumblr, I mostly talk about it on discord or private), I do think anyone who has read the books should watch the show.

For me, personally, everything I love about HDM is barely on the show - complex characters, the philosophy, the oppression by religion, the interesting world - and the vibe I get is that they’re adapting a coming-of-age love story, which is the last and - being fully honest - the least important message these books give us, but unfortunately they were set to making a family show from the start, and my expectations were high and unmatched, and a family is what we’re getting: toned down, cute, pretty visuals and soulless (heh, pun intended), philosophically speaking. I expect a certain pattern going into S3, but I always like to hold out hope that they will hire better writers (apparently Jack Thorne already wrote 4 scripts, so there you go lmao), and try to give HDM the adaptation it deserves. The truth is, if you’re a picky, canon reliant person like I am, the show might be a struggle, but if you just like the story for the teen romance, or if you don’t care about overthinking a show/book, then most people can have a good time with it.

#asks #effie watches hdm #sorry it took me a while and sorry for the gigantic critique #but i wanted to be honest about my take on the show so far #Anonymous

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lostinfic · 4 years

Note

Self Indulgent prompts, huh? I love anything with artist Rose so something with that theme. I'm not picky about the Doctor- like my current obsession is Eight/Rose, but I'm perpetually in love with Nine/Rose and Ten/Rose too so whichever Doctor you're most comfortable with.

The Museum of Serendipity

Doctor x Rose, Wilf, male OC (Original Cat)

Rated E | 2300 words

Sorry this took longer than anticipated, I got sidetracked by research and 8th Doctor audio adventures ;)

I’m fulfilling your self-indulgent prompts

Of all the wonderful, celebrated museums in London, Rose’s favourite was an anarchic collection housed in a crooked Georgian house in Marylebone.

From ground floor to attic, over four storeys, shelves and frames lined the walls of every room, following a seemingly incoherent design. Part cabinet of curiosity and part celebration of beauty in all its forms, the collection was curated by an anonymous— and eccentric, Rose liked to imagine— philanthropist.

Its name, the Museum of Serendipity, summed up how the collection was put together. Or perhaps it indicated how this museum could be found: by sheer good luck, as it was not advertised anywhere. Rose herself had stumbled upon it by accident last September, when looking for a shelter from the rain. Quite a happy accident, since her art teacher had asked them to visit a gallery for their first assignment of the semester (she’d earned extra points for originality).

Despite few visitors, it remained open from morning to evening. More often than not, the elderly greeter slept in his rocking chair by the door, leaving Basil the cat in charge.

Its location near Regent’s Park, made it a perfect destination for a drawing session. On a beautiful spring day like today, Rose would walk along the paths of the park and draw the flora and fauna in her sketchbook. Then make her way towards the museum. Other days, after a long time indoors, she would enjoy the park’s fresh air and time to reflect on the latest collection piece she’d discovered.

Since her childhood, art had been a way for Rose to travel, around the globe and across time, a way to see the world through other people’s eyes and to share her own vision. A way to exist beyond the Powell Estate. The Museum of Serendipity transported her like nothing else.

Although she enjoyed the morning sun, she didn’t linger in Regent’s Park, too eager to get there.

The elderly greeter was listening to the radio in his small front office.

“Hello, Wilf!”

He jumped to his feet with an energy that belied his years.

“Ah, Rose, luv. Alright? How’s school?”

“Got another assignment to complete for art history class. By the way, mid-term break is coming up, if you fancy a holiday, I could cover your shifts here for a few days.”

He would be doing her a favour more than the other way around.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “We got a new piece came in.”

New pieces were simply added to the exhibition wherever a space was available. As they walked to the drawing room, Rose tried to know more about the museum.

“Who brought this new piece?”

“John did, just this morning.”

“John?”

“Yeah, John McConnell , the mailman,” Wilf said. “Here it is.”

On the mantel lay an artifact shaped like a metal glove without fingertips. Or a pan flute.

“Looks like something from the future,” she joked.

“Modern art, then,” Wilf said.

He left her to look at it a while longer. The pattern that covered it, both engraved and raised all at once, looked like scales. Rose pulled her sketchbook out of her messenger bag and drew it. Texture study.

Basil, the museum’s Abyssinian cat, greeted her, rubbing himself against her legs. She petted his long ears and ruddy coat. She followed Basil out of the room, and wandered the now familiar corridors and staircases. Her hand trailed along the faded floral wallpaper and oak paneling. The smell of candle wax and pine wood polish always hung in the air.

There was one painting in particular Rose always came back to, in the third floor library, just above a loveseat that once belonged to Marie Antoinette. Ahead of her, Basil jumped on the loveseat and looked at her expectantly.

Rose pulled up a chair to sit down, the museum was almost a second home now, she had no qualms moving furniture around.

With a dreamy sigh, she let her eyes roam the large canvas. It depicted a dozen people in elegant Edwardian clothing, visiting an art exhibition. She was transported back in times, it seemed. Back to la Belle Époque. Late 19th- early 20th century, in France. Among women in high-necked waist shirts, carrying white lace parasols and men wearing mustaches and straw boating hats. The era of Moulin Rouge and absinthe, of the first movie, of bicycles and Marie Curie, just to name a few. The era of Gustav Klimt, Toulouse-Lautrec, Van Gogh and Renoir, the artists whose work Rose had first fallen in love with. The painting itself blended elements of Art Nouveau and Impressionism (as she’d described in her second assignment).

But there was one character in particular that commanded her attention again and again. There, in the upper left corner. The painter had done this trick which makes it look like the subject’s eyes are on you wherever you stand in the room. Though unnerved at first, Rose now tried to master this technique. Countless time she’d drawn his thick, curly brown hair, the soft contours of his jaw, his blue eyes, the creases that bracketed his mouth. And that smile, a Mona Lisa smile, the hardest trait to capture.

His clothes also offered many details to work on: the sheen of his satin cravat, the velvet of his jacket, the pattern of his waistcoat.

At first, she only tried to capture his likeness in various mediums, but over time she tried to sketch his profile, his back. She depicted that gentleman in various poses and actions. He had taken a life of his own. What was he doing there that day? What was his relationship with the painter? Why was he looking at her like that?

Basil meowed.

“Alright, don’t be jealous. I’ll draw you first, you beautiful boy.”

“Thanks, it’s a new jumper. Do you like the colour?” said a man with a northern accent.

Rose started. He was leaning against the door, looking at her, with the smallest hint of a smile.

He picked up Basil and sat down on the loveseat, laying the cat on his legs crossed at the knees. Rose held back a quip about the similar size of their ears.

“Well, go on, then,” he said, indicating her sketchbook with his chin.

“Hold on, are you the director of the museum? Or the curator?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t think so.”

At a loss for a reply, Rose simply got to work.

If Basil wasn’t running away, then surely this man posed no threat. Just a lost, slightly odd item, like everything else in the Museum of Serendipity. Including herself.

His face offered such striking features to draw, that bold nose, those sharp cheekbones. The cropped hair revealed the shape of his skull and the collar of his sweater, a beautiful neck. A face for charcoal, she thought, to capture the lights and darks of him, in loose, almost intangible strokes. Charcoal and dry pastels, she amended, she had to recreate the infinite blue of his eyes.

They chatted about everything big and small: cats, galaxies, her doubts about art school and his hopes for the future of humanity.

Time flowed differently when she was creating. In that moment more than ever. A sort of appeasing, melodic hum filled her mind, and everything, but her subject, faded away.

When she traced his eyes, she was surprised to find in them a spark, as if he knew her.

She looked up at him, and he smiled. “Hello,” he said.

Before she could think of a good way to phrase her question, he stood up and looked at the sketch over her shoulder. He gave an appreciative nod.

“We need someone to do a painting of the museum,” he announced. “Are you free to do it?”

“A painting? Are you taking the piss?”

“I’m serious. Great big canvas. Like this one.” He pointed to her favourite painting of la Belle Époque.

“I’ll need money to buy supplies,” she said, to test his good faith.

“Of course.”

He grabbed a tin box in a nearby bookcase; it was full of cash. He handed her the stack of pound notes without counting. Almost as if he was ignorant of their value. “Will this do?”

Rose nodded dumbly. She resolved right away to only spend a reasonable sum.

“I’ll come by next Wednesday afternoon,” she said.

“Perfect. See you, then, Rose Tyler.”

She spent the next few days in a state of disbelief. Her mind constantly replayed her encounter with the blue-eyed man. Several times, she opened her sketchbook to look at his portrait. The fondness it aroused in her took her breath away. She found herself doodling both him and the gentleman in the painting, over and over.

She bought a load of art supplies, but kept the receipt in a secure place in case she needed a refund.

On Wednesday, she arrived at the museum with a knot in her stomach. Wilf greeted her, as usual, but he was wearing a smart new uniform.

A moment later, the blue-eyed man skipped down the stairs, two at a time, and welcomed her with a bright smile. He introduced himself as the Doctor, just the Doctor, and Rose went along with it— after all, it wasn’t the weirdest thing about him.

He’d set up an easel and a canvas in the third floor library. She barely paid attention to his directives, she was distracted by the number of visitors in the museum, more than she had ever seen.

“Is this a prank show thing or what?” she asked.

“Why would it be a prank show?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you said it. Why a prank show?” he repeated.

“‘Cause to get that many actors and props, it’s got to be on telly.”

“That makes sense. Well done.”

“Thanks?”

“It’s not a tv show,” he said.

“But— why?”

“It’s the museum’s anniversary. We are interested in collecting unique pieces, and what’s more unique than Rose Tyler’s first commissioned artwork?”

“Maybe the last,” she mumbled.

“It won’t be,” he said, stating a fact rather than paying a compliment. “Coffee?”

The Doctor knew something she didn’t, and as irritating as it was, it incited her to stay and fulfill his request.

She laid a tarp on the floor below the easel, spread out her brushes and palette knives, picked the colours.

Basil, of course, wanted to be part of the painting. He lay down in the sunniest spot, on the window sill, looking ever so regal.

As she prepped the canvas, her brain ran ahead of her with ideas to best infuse her art with feelings this room evoked. Warm earth tones, old leather bound books, a thick Persian rug, but also glass cases to keep people away, artworks by undisclosed artists, mysteries all around. Inviting and distant all at once. Much like the Doctor.

She scanned the room for him. He stood in a corner of the library, surveying. As she traced his silhouette, she noticed the similarity, in his posture and smile, with the fascinating gentleman in the Belle Époque painting. She made a mental note to ask about that too.

Hours passed by, Wilf kept her comfortable with cups of tea, snacks, a stool, opening the window, closing the window.

Everyone had left. The sun had set. Only the Doctor and Basil remained in the room with her.

The artwork wasn’t finished, but it had everything she needed to continue another day. Yet, she didn’t leave. She didn’t want to. She stood there, wringing her paint-splattered hands waiting for something, anything, from the Doctor.

“I want to show you something,” he said. He took her hand and they both stood up on Marie Antoinette’s loveseat. “Look closely.”

Now inches from the Belle Époque painting, she saw it like she never had before. It shimmered and shifted. Like those 3D images you have to cross your eyes to see. She blinked. Looked closer. And drifted through the canvas.

Rose gripped the Doctor’s hand tighter. Behind them, there was no library, only a blue door. And in front of her, the painting had come to life. No— they weren’t in the painting, they were in Paris of the 1900s. Around her, people chatted in French, cigar smoke wafted to her nose, and through a window that wasn’t on the painting, she could see the brand new Eiffel tower.

The gentleman that had so fascinated her was there too. Thick hair, bright smile.

“Rose, we meet at last,” he said.

His voice sounded exactly like she’d imagined. She didn’t know until now that she’d imagined his voice.

“She’s all yours,” the Doctor said.

Rose didn’t let go of his hand.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here to bring you back to your own timeline.”

He disappeared through the blue door.

The other man linked their arms together. A feeling of safety washed over her. He was a stranger and yet not at all. As if to reassure her further, an Abyssinian cat sauntered by.

“Is that Basil?” Rose asked.

“In a fashion. Cats have nine lives, as you know.”

“And you, Doctor, how many have you got?”

The Doctor smiled. “Ah, you figured it out, clever girl.”

That didn’t mean she didn’t have a ton of questions, but for now, she only wanted to soak up the magic of it all.

The Doctor showed her around the room. They mingled with the other visitors, admiring the artwork on the walls. Rose couldn’t stop grinning.

They stopped in front of a painting depicting another gallery, in another museum, in another era.

“Can we go through there too?” Rose ventured.

“Yes, but wouldn’t you like to see Paris first?”

“We can go out?”

“Of course. You know, my friend Claude has been pestering me about visiting his garden. Nice fellow, this Claude. Mind you, he’s a tad obsessed with water lilies.”

#ficandchips #Nine x Rose #Eight x Rose #artist!Rose #yes I'm still working on those #self indulgent prompts #lostinfic writes stuff #lotsofthinkythoughts

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