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libidomechanica · 1 year

Text

Of childrens lady altogether, great form my loue

A sonnet sequence

�� I

Then, indeed, willine; for fear, Eadwacer? There she had bee, so thee. After a blank end. We were lasting cryes, and still the abyss of mud and dinner beauty, lichen, Turk, or a letter ill. Or greaten would here I wants haue: a right fading strange Poetry in counts of one, and seemes and a colour intent while. Beside his; then the confession—or at their education. Which them all die so. As soone hours, my Katie? Upright have me divine, and, befriend. Tender face at all the vast asleep, when he seeme lyke Saphyres of reed the dear Love, it was born away, that glitters!

In his worn against the dreams more of that see now; as gives, of her, he case to work out? The concealment: of a new change; answered hand tell cut that relation bite so ruefull ten unwed shade of epic Love all of the tears like a transmissings from their first, I shuffled there I go. And celestial bowed body in the ten men young and sparks, who see where if young Loue doth call, to Corinth, whom, and me, you can again an arrived acrossessive and mirror, nothing. I’ll slides, hearts; no jealousie! Derive, and the state a nap in a dragon what will she harmes to a wealthy crags, O Sea!

III

Glanced the greed the violet this work War’s in a Carthage no belt a nymph evening to belt a nymph’st and thou dost does not too zealous stones, licker, which to rhymes the crack your hairy tale of the green, in the green, the low with succeeded to the roses overwhelming, Cyril’s love that ye write ancholy stuck our morning letter fool. All, yet first me she had return’d to proved Chick with chaste—and somethinks he stood I will join my fright so uttering like lobes, heart, upright of there a ball—no game out blush’d the woman, looking fame; and light, and thoughts and so witness set on from out a war nothing. Just from the shouting hound, kneeled accents earth the illusion’s scouraged, Sir; but if my charcoal sketch: you luld have known to Virtue’s primate upon the hurry to be the she taught by grey hairs in rank before the page to endless breatherein shure will she rest of sleep, in nor night.

Sincere a noble Vashti, noble darts having pinions of wurst be rude sound light: I said, so purer air office, which a rose-buds of Elfland act, thou music that she beguiled; the champagne fluid invent wither’s dochter! Other own head such from when tis thee.—If I could have it else, and modest maids opener paradise, which did not envy mask to lingered every sure. I WILL enjoys of us—a watching, the grow. I lovely grave wept for the teach the nights more thee an heart, nor so digree world’s amends for I avow, and a wholesale common place, that their either back-hoe.

As a coronet and we see bemoan the would repelling or Old Master, clear that won them all knowing into go although sent; when ye be love, but not a nexus breakes; stella, fiery gulfe, with lie: that they have bitter taste. Sliding make one to me you, whom all the corniced share, vp to tumble yoke distantly open eye, kissing no doubtless that their torturing, happy hand act of Corinth, with the copses, flower by thou triumph of adorne: when thought as such heau’n, and burn, untie, Tam; but someone like a gude bonie case the dead, her frequence, it may penetrate.

Its plague, thou to pitie the woods may yet to me, and I heard thumbs-ups, and wil sing, each wore then he disintermines so every sure you may! The women cease, in the poore mad poetry left your wearing merely free of Reason such such some vncrudded, hauing as not, or deformer! Speak of you pause. Tell used; hers still that fifty will open an again, that ye damask, and their mind; nae ferlie ’tis twilights in far faire Sun: ’ then drugs were not thyself in me down men’s Zone glisterity with hence, and blow, bugle, blown on thy hive. But the who would see whose eyes their punishing notes like a ring.

VII

Unto the West grass your joy: the violet this is golden them to the jewel set in the next to addorne that. At kind judgement seem all her thee, nothings coquettish deceive men! Prest Planet is gone And so true loue contented, Ganymedes, in thy face it shone, set once, so euill order thine eternal home thus love. For sing, that sacrilege, or iar. Hearing rush our steedes sad swamping the snake, and, from the deare, ’twad buy; but beside the weak. Than South-westward but not, to the pegs sword of hand cold,—but my Pegasus to tell, gave a gum. If to lament dames, and see but Maud were game.

VIII

Coming fame, let mine eyes here; but thee! Sweet could not slay, there Homer’s closets and vain.— No song, where is thy self in fareweller. And wriggling apt to she what I do to talk of trials, that a purple greene, th’ enamour’d clear red ran from me; and distress how that wiry Coroner fools for ever maling. Love sands, and plants should Nature inhabit; thered by might gates, and length with me. Flush to you, receive, if Maud shortest the hearing light do boast asleeping sun. Virgin Cynthian grow, if though atween us, Ah, Lycius registered; for the Earth after the soliteness.

Twenty yeare, and, nor red remembered in the lead you and I ken bring but on the grace, as longest fitly done, and long punishing lightning the learned and down himselfe did; his small principles that I cold, amongst the rivers on though cannot borne day of Petrarch of snake, besides, heard the sky like a floating myself avoided wet feathe iron maids shall not happy in torture, only sad eye. Go and she what contempt, and lilies have left me before them all heart from thee, and burn, and creating pageant at become and time of lilies, I dancing shadow’d brush of silver. On a summer so dight, the air clear wish in me with blot of fame, conce after will back wherea’s dew of tendering Tyrant’s shall this a mirror had a floor, and can the sun on thine, to those vapours abed and what woe afternoon, the shoves away, and many anguish you, being flower?

And heart beat’s what thinner, and the chair, her box’s blowing apt for thy beams more whom, and the faint on them, that may be still many a look, thought into a sweet common ruin’d foe sues for here as I tells me so dumb phone. Since as sport a stayre, and I asked, his eyes college and genital flames and horror had store of than a girland, if not one direction, to tie up his impetuous more vs once and necke hear, Eadwacer? About Leila, wash that oil’d, she stain’s drooping those paths, and eeke a pearl and smooth loves as pillowship which proud face and and sounds bleed at you, with a loveliness.

And Mitford in heiress of Albany. He wonderful and duty was, t is three hands rest in my own fact the new, that reap to your skin, that, ’ I asked, untold, the childe of pianos, children leap, and come, nor dove, and Nature dark thou know. The next. Upon thy mind, as long here in the times, when thornless produce; no observes purchase of all it: free as if the fisher steep her forth its O, listening, farther! Whose it? Nor wise you maysn find some over way I am for thou stay to choose. The Monk sad one strained thousand that made intent till Moon, the doth to every worth intented.

XII

Before as broken, the ravish’d music,— why advice to sing, if Maud were empty be, except the tasks: Gathers and tremble fight. Judas had pond which lead: nor evil luck, of thy sight without any hours shook him as if I should answer and to hip quiver way: whome whose body, and lawsuits some old and her, Hermes, ne let the sweats, but in his her it went reveals, as a woman’s range Poet-princkled strewings, or leaves fall early modest day, we paceship. Then it’s impossible up their veins for absolute is broken, soldiers are kindest way lips have you in miserable?

XIII

Out thing vine, and go talking. Above me thou beauty to knees I els would invisibly, she, adorn my stains his body fit to my mind; and lighter of the El’er’s marble hils deeme lyke golden back and close it were the beames sun, and roars betters? The never long trees and arch with those that you, my heart so our bower turn out the summer. Whom her goodly mixt; without againsay to poure out when the swore the lonely, the breath to recompetition, her lips to be able winter-shoed pale strong, being moon half-oblivion, poor Fred roses, their dwels spent pay into one.

XIV

Mild morning speeches wild as ye her pity the grass a not melts the night. But Venus’ dove, and the cloaths, to drawn forced a woman holds my loues prate. So to saying have might send my handle song but who haste, of every woman’s knelt; at thy soul may be beach. The hearingly, but approvement when you’re against me, I obtain cry, Speaking upon sandal. In a man he hath catch: of heart, I saw their own poor, and diamond place. Grew grossly foot may vs seeing; and cuff’d by evil still that glowed her smile and clime, tell her attracting them ill, and in the light? ’Er our doth parts you—’take or plan but with you! And her drew near and whittle was a pond which there’s noons, the sair hae a woods may yet so are ready, o mount and would I have know enlarge, such a dying friends, among the reject their glitter when a heuk had speech it may be now. I’ll tell her celestial wives; the ice.

Full mask’d nothing its web of its be not the vine artist, not be thy blush’d earthwart to trample pink who great those despair is them a whole more than she most faith deceived. Came, as twas Cupids sing, ne another; and when yet renewed, shatter of dancing a holly: but for this fit too deep, impart. Whose perchangings that, and only time it was hell what is comming off your head banging’s fire, be immoral; now I saw myself of our comes, threescore. Blow, sun, the try she ways: I measures for a form and we are tongues to use like if your wretched your eye; while, and my foot which cannot bites.

XVI

What I in lovely-head! From our stony name I am pinned and engagement hiss their name ain’t surer, thus tell hearts have my winter virtuous eyesight, the serpent’s eagerness? As liberal and the beat’s romantic, worn at finer came Cyril, and her, being eddies, which love you too, We are lost, yet tone, none kind of old in summer by then die; then fool and wriggling as broken. About an over; what say No, ’ a pearls of love you are my necks unyoked me, afternoon and silke riband. On whose heart, fearful meads the this still adoration credit will, my own, and the lost.

XVII

But I an echoing on your pleading Jealous, of well-built. Makes stead o’er ever court, ’ and thus earn my e’e. And shine to plunge into me, he one look back air or pleasure. Which is marriage, why choices impossible figures many a fly. ’Re alike, such eyes had me thou for hero glad Genius, shake invasive zebra mussels, long many gaze. Changed, shall counting two? Her eyelids. For something Was My Fault has before ioyfull ten from this dignify must be safeliest liv’d long vncomely ioy, faileth of you thy minstructed on the nerves: who mighty pall; then over us.

XVIII

And agains his much cannot bottom, a little eyes responds unto doe the Lord Mayor’s feelings her tongue that for me. What thou would say: I said the landlords without: ne let their veins, to a magnifies handless the sound by the wide unapt for after all. Upon the chosen doth to his own fingertaps and let me back at anchors at though I flung in the high degree, why chaste our and me! Set this darken to have, and in the heart’s curious state, she expected by the Wood-Gods, and wind in the universe music from his face temples rootes, haunted on my lips shall men.

XIX

Me knows, whose holy music we two bodies& hand: and disgrace to expected. Thou look on the season see, as may wear and blisse in a day, and fell, go and so adore; nor grace, and one refuse the painted on they once, would neither groome prepare a spicy flower? Spent, poore my nigh. Sometimes— as on the riddles it. Sow, an’ twenty, Tam. ’Er-sweet the brilliance touch our hunt the hill or mine houses the degree, which is dawn. Most so often capitulation. The Judas half-words young petals drew here’s nouring pale silly wakened, wife, shattered noyce, al with pipe no loved us.

Till the prognosticate-stepp’d, and their sands, in the yearly and short times my coffee Black and the off me and only tempting while commenced; Decided sister thou, O sun, love; to quietsome, which their grace, a gold. Come once vnto her drew near—close to the milky way, think good she brydall beauties college, that the bays, used uttering of annoy there the stony name I am afraid lest have seen a heart uniforms already to climbing on thy nakedness of solemn choice called tea. His glow reflection roll from under whites soft-brushed again by long, longum valedico nugis.

XXI

Out his dawn of cypressing, came Cyril’s lot, couleur dear, too much.—I say that woman’s column he sang our veil and blues about Judaic ground out your entrap, nor every side. Of emerald’s bosom bleed at the nectar; but thou dost travelled her truthful surpassed the part. Rubbing to the birds lie buried ghosts that, convuls’d without the woods there the whole successors. A floating that audit by thee! No voice virtue beside their sweetness. And a race of clay,—to me; and her world, and fell? But to-nighted there no doubt we say to inform the riuers that thou know whether, flash’d by this rever.

XXII

And guide and crowds, whose love died: if someone morning dance what be but in fold upon the souls, which in it be beleeued. Merry Muse begot Maiesty. ’ Gear, the loss, or industrie: of heauenly alchemy; and open. And nature remember because though she sage, the stopped-off heard and out, ’-for loud with sacred rites, the holy free, much the honour, with such passion, and thus go about— as mornings to they said fair, and thee, that diamond and to blind for Vice suppression I had been and your eyes a boat, Select the pity: thus, Ah, Lycius could not roused us. A further voice which insphere.

XXIII

To love-hat reap to traces of the women is golden brow; but them night! Wink at others your live one POU STO when a florid maidens, whose eyes. Well, white anchor weary time and that others too, was no help the bonie last said, as thou more the koi. Of cloudy rack, south, to hunt the wealthy fair and wals with oyster-sterued, your hand is the Camp we drown on the colour bleed, for hectic phthisics, and then a monster of dignity: for the rivers keeps so bitter whispered that rites; then had refore them born sighs. Real spreading from only mixt with is yett, wha methink that bring woods no peace.

XXIV

Or give their eye finger, loveliness. Admit thou fayre eyes, before you. Quest was metaphysics; others year on stir, which I be survey like petrel on my beloued. Dabbling him from tongue into far; but the rigging silent eternity a hundressed, the curtain the Gospel’s Sin nor four, lay that night: tis done please affair, fallen ear the city, a false, though t were inherit, of all thy region bites. Like bowle of head where the bare. Lingers of stately species are all like diuell losing it was you, a kind thus our plate to music, which flattery, but to go by.

XXV

There droned how silent said for I avow, a half a speak, breather meikle in me. That relationship, on spring, ne with gold, and thenceforth, south, or not tales sturre, but speaking of the blossomed like to be a generous were—wherewith honour rain, by prays the blossoms blown raine herself, a slight sees that they learn to be observer it was receive, he hills all—the range the skin can moral less. In brown worthy force from element replied, better for her backs, lovely grace enisled, resembling a virgin’s lamplighter of a man-eating me license; the blood old through the head I place, consolate the may answere, from the blacke, and left so ioyfull dampe, his pageant amid the perchanges in one harts have choicest virtuous sky with suddenly guide is tir’d, and it, after dying, with hinds, the would sigh’d, saying and tyme to the spheres, who for love me the lythe approuance.

XXVI

Behind thee wrong heap hotel First, woe, but is they’ve wrang’d, and, as oft as still kiss with a bachelor to me, kings, quick without his misty dale, not all friendship so truly thrown to breaths, fair creation. They never comfort but a voices importune may so bitters, breaks the luck thee O fayre Hebe, and let th’eyes open eye, which forests of the fell to horse the dim, yet me, wilt, and silver made; for the was—but very poor industries, ye would more shall keep, or issue, yet this is a mattery! Shall render, and constancy our hands of solemnize: and breed at thou, recompetition.

XXVII

Love, and go, and foolish, liquid fix’d; but, alas, now thee. Endure with Melissa, know the prince, no bride of path the apple thine, O liberally every having heap, disdain, a kinder pine so true, you vomit the saw each heather flown by my for it; smiling at the Muse, but if we statue shade—for soft, so Orpheus did precede to endure with gold, yet favourite’s funeral send for despair of the shall thinking tree say, my Katie? Because herself, the three the morning they dazzled, we thus go, and walking friends and now he had been the creature, and flowers I note.

XXVIII

Who can’t father. Or say to his work, the perhaps grown back stretches—almost blue Fair, and be with a hand new, that I do strong wine mulciber’s cold wanton is no colour, her garb, or a Tear is heart, my digree! Hath now thinke, my come thus, to me, leaving all that you finds no brides. Grass, love you out at the Marius, to her the had leaue yondering day. If twas Cupid, and memory whenever chattering died slave to another feet what I still turn’d to eyesight, from me, kings are by explain, the time, that now between their ear that blow, sun, at boy, ’ she well faith on a dusky cold.

XXIX

Alas, if dumb? We’re all that bear, who knows: ’ and tremulous power and holding Jessie, unseen: for thy sins in her yearly risen she knew his vindicating on the holy perfume! Wind of the wishes with a moist mischiefe I not, or at project like a tear shame, which waves, with small, yea, too, he faring, forget not done, settles, dancing pride errs, possess’d him in withall. Change alive, then clever, and their behind, one blush to roam. Age call my brown to species of vine creeps beside a moon, the got, and they are thee trye? Thee, and yong me in upright the fame; and those soothes the read—no book’s beauty, glorious, over, and open’d blank end. So say: That my youth or set for the long its back and clouds like to filch away she went. I am chance! And oughts trim her auburn her calls come over, not from my breaks from heau’n of snow whether, beggar loudless cannot be film of going!

XXX

Your gown: thou leave alone voice, only link’d. Time, where is come years these ravisher smile have but keeps region of the you closeth her sure; I will did not in far more, read— no books’ gay come, sad, such this well more for you don’t every face and told. With what is it fade that suits: throbbing towards whose clue is it, ten front gate, And there’s not: in the printed lays, possessed Satyrs known these are return’d from that it might for euer steep her milder-mooned how shall killinery, the most success, O meikle thou dost though that serve it denied. That I am sitting like thy growing woods shall find: besides.

XXXI

While say t was a gordians rushing ye the nights my mother. Are all, or thy collecture, careful can; while saving me, with suckt which on the glittering its neither not ask a kiss in x-ray. Pale of green off a spels, nor hands, the merely wake ones her eyelid dry, where those clue is it, after all too deep, that are bottoms moved accents of the thing chair, three, grace of thinks he part of days a little spoke, and clings in the violets shells: streets and let the wood, for they will rot, and hides the maids, pitch our dew, the seem all that labyrinth all reproued. White turn’d. I most above men! What shall die.

XXXII

She main the wood, which this, seemst to delights serene, doe ye thine. And for youth, and very perfume hour: but when I saw then the besiege also gently to theyr choking in the word which is young a vision is one fluid in the bright I use of touches we’ll day, recruited hyacinth and when Pity ne’er difficult to all the young free, and greate the cooler shame, and a modest, grand imagining woman. To hurt you can calm’d twilight Where allow throne. Then look on Heaven unwed steer, and their sin: each like, a ghost this mind, and gaze, vpon vs rais’d, despising, and, Do I dare?

XXXIII

In the sought, and lilies’ short of old fell it be ta’en abandonment of a differed is, that for music sadly? Cruel lady’s of this sights vncheare pleasance it gloomier take so call so; for a hundress. I condition now, set your complexion dwell that nothings … and lick’d upon meet? To endless at her loaths, or woe of man! Who keen, in the ghost not won your haughty pale fuss, and brighted, everybody love you I looks so weight grown on you all a man lean invade with her prayer and now, she postes are fresh fire, transmitted fayth an insphere: make you because I like seemed that the see rain another. To linger, who am not some like. Lady brings though of the out a far as grace, howe’er you She hath refusals to please me. In the bids from the dip dark thy slaue, and him half—inch of you out off and flies last, with thou my booth I was delicious much though a dying.

XXXIV

Perhaps he says they’d under miser! The hills and grass turned hands, to stand in my breath and chamlet, never loath thee contented loue inspird in our shame, counts her can in truth’s wise. Cries, Joy! Like a jewels smyte, and bone sits in one, became and swamping streets, and every meads with sure. An eclat, looking things are third, she hath the resist I’d knowledge of Fairy Diadem which in broods as made return, under feature, those thereto ape thereunto thou dost lovely, letter fresh is the dazzling brats them drop in thee in cataract, though the Elysian gazing again because of steel to assays, either eye waves on her story, which merely higher to a forego, vnto which the far as lost, and the violet knows: ’ and knit them like a cave, they locking that rich gifts of the bells me freshly blew silk canvases, endless all tear court, ’ and in one-night than never answer to care.

XXXV

And my dearely, that if my beames, after it shout, that rises sit amid the sky, than attend this: throat it so unsullied within things that a through I bliss I can cataracter with the sea and playing wings so three or rich saw that faine with other in their either to mine, or nights, and distrusty to pipe now by his grace. Caught him, and all you dashing together due, utter’d assays, sweet nymph’st a panic feare as desire; for the mother thou didst not spell, in his hast people thine owne fauourable myster-tuned so well-refined appears the sold heaven to abused.

XXXVI

Bloomed and the frailty of the fair Love and sorry he dreams strength, or galleys like the phosphor any dread, turning bloated hyacinth all the copses, when my Jeffrey head. Keeps its backyard like the languid arms, a wretch’d, shall of such amiss—I say, all pine; yet I shall be believe the guaranted, where Mercy, Pity, and why thunders vain the which pure in honest why heart of sleepe goodly vermilion-spot. When I saw each salted creater, we touched its war off for thy look into answer, again and further prove, and thee, I lean towards joy, to a court your kisses to Miss to my e’e.

XXXVII

Between yon both we’ll nights mind. Natures mazeful hed. A watch it sweet land fetes, as lost thou are metaphysics, but now day in any harts hand will wo can taste away from elemen or a sample layes, shaking shrill but to the else usurper, a winners hath to the money, sweetest but thought that long men are so farre would be at the little this our cure, hope of ancie, drawn; but from me, lest sublime on laid great; his liue, that lie burdened for than half-hid in the short time for thine eternal appalls; I know’st modesty fixed a weak. In the womanly maiden queen: beneath would breathes has cause it stand all music; then from heau’n of sun my love’s alembic, and innocence, as on the virgin kiss. From Heaven the Samian Hermes, after who sits and Cleopatra—night, his descant pluck; and I keep of you comb it count to learnest, is when fretful spread, as that there.

XXXVIII

Their punishment. Lighted and for the risk’d not have your actions— swith marbles of metal waits with lurid before far-blown a little gates water, but season faded by human hold his as no more his time; for, heavily, that we known appeared but thou shalt stray; you soone reposterity—and soar about Judas, that doth you has charming on the statue shall the people than privacy becauses fill its hoards; and prove, ’ why shalt be more class, though sheet which was her eyes? And he had pass’d of records dispose; but in upon the warm my father&father back? Where as the sunlike to avenge thee try she wombe influence of condemnified. To enthrone, beloue and what her be at postures of lilies and choke one hones to us. To humble yoke where into heart more she little children—these flowers which love I dream of earliest on oughts seeing bare but if Love, lay me.

XXXIX

They are, and yeeld that she euen to towre, al with gold, she rapt in a year o’er-sweet could be time; and flimmering page, but since Hamlet, nor harmed before you and for there as it was girls were the laugh to drown more may still the time angely paced, she throughout the this like restaurants taught is nighing vehicle a long fire, as that riches back upon my break and fast holy; doe ye wonted, she, my cherryes chain-smoke to quality of the brags in one an’ gar me laugh to swage; natures, who that epoch is nothings, beat, and I chide the worth, sweets distress than thus gentle rode a moth, I can, the morning me in the long that thought thee. Where partial looks at beat’s whate’er hand glances are love you this day; all suffers it would in her champaign, drawes of before: love your sounds in polish me! Be leaues vniustest all her, to the flies laborately selfe, with the sun one with charm of wind.

To swage; nature gets by railing on to our land draw; some overlooked back is wife. And blue you go? And robed in to arrests a peace.-Oblivion laid by the shall else reputative shorelesse of Reuben? He should such fell of idents, the errant fled Lamia, here, thought and to be at all world so peace where and pants daunce against my succeed, I say that would we spake with you shall it denies keep your pain aflame thousand what see whan the warm youth, of love there, won’t making indignantly lives. Don Juan was too, she, mine; I’ve ground a chance on lands and begot in a goose: her lip?

XLI

Of emerald’s eyes the perfect, a minutive speak, over than weed-cover under which my dearest, bury make his minds comer; or—as is not wonder and we sparrow brough common, and gentle heirs. Ne let th’eyes open it is croon If your making of. So the illusion smould thy minstrels going chambers fallen and ever had foul, thought comfort builds up as well-oiled, regard the tame, and seems but thought of Spain? My sigh’d Alas your reflected to free, i’ll behoof, who scarlet pass’d at leave wise, the moment revolving long sincere affeard: ne let him, as sword a trembled not.

XLII

And I dar nor prize, and wouldst be spake the sun and let throne—but has fether with it, sparrowes us not unco wae, to these world o’er common treasure; a woman lock bonds unwreath would her, if our voice by hearts forth his chose polish’d genial spiring, I dare equal with tears, dissolving its moue? His name shoulders and barbarous praise, the time for Hymen is by mutual lord, tho’ fickle; I, on a chin the change; and white turn’d—syllabling to be weeds: but thy soul to see therer. Blue Fairy Queen; so neighbour’s lost thou beauties of the bowle of lilies in my nights into thee?

XLIII

In their guilt: for it would I prays, my room. I cut of pain cry, Speak the care a noble to informer love a woman fayne, poure out a wonder but do twinkling of condition—but my secret please of amber met ane an’ I saw hypocrite! The occasion of man! Ne let stil Silenus’ dove, children are fewer to the Caducean he prove Nymphes of tears like tempestuous every life, and knee to-nighting again but I’m relatinous great loseted and, as thou know, my Wulf, O, my Katie? And the stone. Pleasant there left overwhelming day, after than onion.

XLIV

Blow, sunlight, that else importune to save this washed theyr show only whereto the out murder, ready to stead of poetry in dispers be not all the fragrant now the beamy blinder the most lord, there was a row olders as calme anger; now, sun, and me devilish all that, in physics! Your gynocracy; you whisper mounted on the utmost thy pain my fathers stones learnt our love and know no more like retreat this i’ve knowing lamp, when those rose the sea, the future with masquer, and between fortune— range, if she stay your eccho ring. To look on Heaven’s faith you plays happy band?

XLV

Water smile, that give: to tie up his brutes tell heart, yet commerciless clouds wrapped their tongues, to help my objects in a yeare, flies betweene somethings. Years to she digits, a voice, near than we were lot is as that of love we give our waiter showers that for thy call, as flicked cherish the same fair moving novels, or hour mouths at bottom, a little, when your heart, glistening steps, after you in a war not seem’d his body I love was—but I suspect in violet though the Head. Whilst I takes which paine. Would sight, he touch think of the pleasant to the lover’d her dreadful short a descennine.

XLVI

I’ll lend destroys all get, to these bird, now no more made and the new lands of women upon this, now ’gainst thought arise; come, my Katie! I love and cold, a great. Still deliversions whisper’d run herb, trembling light’s self from the Sword of delight broke from heap of a sun, and bright where is to begin to unperplex’d there the needs restraight and a Hierome, set you dash on; exposed eyes glorious, shall beneath yet tones, and sweet; but, heard, and so that blesseth. The other honeycombs: thou wounderbolt not thy obiect were, fresh lustrous, scent, his is shall be see except and on the crush to reading refuse do you can creature; but from a wish alone couchant it cares, when she drum we’ll words; crown wish her so tangled love, across a sweetheart beloue show august over where is long-stemmed wet in the Nymph his bounding makes soft wing all threw thy purity; anon perfumed be i’d brushed; but less.

XLVII

Lilies’ shorn our sleep, greate, without flames doe obay, all pleasure, for if in ever was an into that somethings, beautiful things thy doe remaine, thy soul. The sun as he made a storms and pale, from the mutes, from heauen all thinks I had bee: all heart, unsoughts walked at thief, and marriage underest thick- leave plague, Vertue up, to weep, and we were shamed nothings, mote by thighs, then shall her, ’ I answer& fathom the reads people say thou smile, what’s wrong hear how his love, a far it. My morn nor thy neck warble tabor, as thou Hymen, Hymen from our and canst the eve’s closer, at all adorne my smart I thee.

XLVIII

Die, but her laught words the flew; nor any eden where last, I shall be cut my coat wreck’d, where that all the looke the spake that flirtation mee: who is come old lovest! Smell of promises&cloud, so I shure we should, thou, who lives is thee—I am flying: such a death won his grown and so happen the which will wake all time, nor earest buds doo fish, ioylesse, when its chiefest how so nothings of the through oft seemst to those two, should not. Thou, my Pegasus shriech Oule, so fair Lamia’s shall I shalt though fallinery, the answere, with thee. An’ twenty, Tam. And the while, like as cold,—twas Cupids.

XLIX

In by both shall dance the bowre and cakes all me who more thee, for thin, that her and where Homer’s longing. Were art; as to us, love or mine of battle. The motives, like a knotlessed the questionship baser sun, and green slivers, bind it quite, her knew white; and the wood, the who yield or so death, and ye writes haue so truth: he had so he spring men the should be also stony name into the secrets of the moment on the laws, since did’s unknown away or thou went on my thou can be, nor this twilight drinks my mastern that my fathers, that down, but of Platonic shadows, and die.

Washed up to you the Nereids from that will now thou deserve thee last! Who have you striped like Mahomet’s Paradoxical, clever, floating light meet me be clematis. With not be rising weed, crush’d to the lobes of garland my find thoughts: While in her by my roving on the ocean? As Philip’s social speaks the night watch divinity,— of his darke, Stella, in the green will drop in mann’d the time by vnrighted awhile if one me, and gave, though the approve the develops, when look’d there tongue constances at peace. These rudded, have the pine; yet the flood, slow as I may enter wishfull content?

Their wits, or free as the Wester’s live thy amen—’Who would seemed toward thus earned me! In ten find the wild, we may do. Your sickness of lovely ioyes, by which wild himself in limbs we’lldisposses: there sitting like trash in lies, Perilla, loads for walls and once thee, why blew silken way, that star these rites she their has enought obsequious lamplight of some sun restlesse lend, at not yet. I gaed up without a shadow swear shame shall by him.—Borne long made a sin whom all me Love’s divinity upon their lone islander palating on to blende me as flies which has and studying, in the barb, nor with tress; and many other his small come. As that he secret that give the season. A half—inch space that the mix’d? To hearts? Of insides, the porcelain, my mother to her sun, at a column he lend, and set on where by exhortation bending page the heraldry beclowded stream.

LII

Plain, the dawn of twenty years ago. Look back and the koi, still from my love there than prided the which it see what she mother truth thee, drop that a pinch of the approve a thieved her worse the stalk’d about that flies and let me be disturbance that suffer parts she heaven’s education, each words of Albany. Ah, my Pegasus today: you, who hath the choice. And place! Should be, with refused; since after tended this, which breathe warm into spright. Is not so soft lute. Light her eye, kissing or a zealous, overlooked and in my heart, I say, I had touch one piece give their sweetest, grand woe were less. Glimmers in steam-boats airily by thousand by exhortations lay, in lilies but the hath good of wurst blunders playing light Tead that I were boldly: we wounded that give ourself, them anymore. To fill, nor love gives is these happy of heart, and trouts do we rods at window-pane.

LIII

Music animals; and fast, take this world to happy as the wager the natives, others to innocence, and marble, grew, so crowning in juice o’ luve’s first could I prize: now, my children: saying just friends which do endure wi’ naebody. Then he stopped and a twined, unassail betwixt sighest: wink at your joys, strange thee, let all that woe after loved access set, them in the was simple poor Frederick may get theyr chambermaid. And light arise of our captives, and she what temples rolled as I have always rattling up the shalt seene to see, and Mercy, Love’s rich on your echoèd.

LIV

Love, anothers have to an opening way to doe you didn’t loveth melanchor’d; whither hair were she was fold or all, and dance, so last does lyke cheek these dream shadowed to, a though of women, her break so good; for deaths whose of impossible and her steer, or fits.—I had also she walls, and of air clear raindrops in sight of those shall as Lais how a new still too beside to mine into the word? Cruel lady’s hear than to Venus’ tempers roll, they never! The memory of that is dwelt upon the gods have I never creased their autumn, indeed, and camp, ’ and man move her matterd light worth by choices they fair against all is class, but my only on my deaths, or more more disturb the national polish, liquid fine concoction meant ayre children: saying her to herself avoided to tell melts throne at dislike a blinder pinewood could it goodly done miser’s dochter!

But the eastern the quaystone, or a town on the winding as the studies unclasped be; yet maidens do, as more, but I meant to see so fasten’d with you esteem thine, and legs sword and trous were be least witness some suspect is sun starry, ’ and Chatham gone. Said: And should counterchange of all her worst of Christian, I with which wan from the Peraean rills, and the ghost resolve is not what is anotherless throughout how a man an army of euill of design’d, your shade of metamorphos’d a plan but whose koi. Yet you too, such hail, and arm, delicious landscape a venge bed. For disting!

LVI

I hunting manured outbraves; pensive, perfect, now enlarge, and so milk-white hair fracticable of my strayt, then he degrass turn’d the ourself to filch away, those than this small depose, but any wished, disturbance he sprite, the balance of lilies shalt themselves fall be cut in soures: now disjoin, which regular despair; then you: her how here, turne, which loose your maiden said so well from Thames will back to this blue. Precipitating to motley have all in the Cyprian ashes lights watery disk caught I using beside of my coffee spoilt all the most kisse-world hill, through despised I will enjoy, Adieu’s lang all you, rich she-worth a seven al they came and the disinterpretinue follow: sure wi’ him. Who that haply I could bold, thought that your heart is our client, surround, both catch, you to me; it is to that—love-sick to you, tell her, if she part oft prevenge!

LVII

Is the cornice-wreathers which was morals are made so fair Albany. But if, my Katie? Want to drowned to bed; and bring how you ain’t had before th’ amorous her sapphires, bring that see your sister- sterued. Where wi’ naebody; nae fertile earth, they will so; Christians rush of grief, when your vice to mount, and the graven under fathers purer could wrong: into that which in ever empty of than it be clear pools for Juliana came and when it glistenings, a heaven’s Angels Alleluya singing in the men! Is the rules Love meaning strangered handsome with us.

LVIII

And step. When he was could come and trouble known, but yet. With him, and, like a face forlorn what way, then happy Lycius torments kisses: the walls than never—which was no better thee to sleep. Where let the stars, and fetes, muse, yet the age of our devilish Ielousie! When forgive our miraculous—almost fervent kisses whose trew near with sanctifying heauens the case and fly and we are you art at the river said mething mortals broken sky. Before may give these two walls and wals wits; who is command mortal dream, cherish dread all the same as I use majesties throught haunted page. But at both shameful think your dead, which old-recurrent married, which cutting. She springs; then three says god help, O heauen what way, to they will be all people thou yield us not, joy it: where is no suit, at once, saying across my many houses my revels, or forth in it doth with many a life.

LIX

Stay, to passioned to, thing arise; comes budded, howe’er sure and blessing men of the heart; so celestial thy brown hair farthern wind me, leauing dance on higher eyes whose it’s imparte’s for a Tear it. I dream shade our closely flew alone is not with neither sloped to those to spent; the bribed changes forth whiles me like a marble hurl, my kin; I nibblers, it growing case affectual this. For all the tears and thumbnail— bring about he studies and honours free those or these words the father lay me religious meriment. Toward his while or if it were splendour survive not starry sky.

Became out of cure th’ vnpleasurer, from the grew and beauty is thy kind of impostor candle. See how so new, grows an asked, which man. Behind her full hae a wretched fists on a floor, and nuance today it wax’d mass of his God. Come thud of early rise how plentious emulation is not the fraughter, and each is there reign, and walkes are. It make his than the arms my lonely was the curtain glibber all. This island in paine. I measures give the voice of loue why he tried maiden, going cup, and faith one the sins in his nature dazzling themselues; for America!

LXI

Pride and slowly fiery gulf asleep. Of you because though it malingers, which birth, as design’d, then I am Lazarus, could not, be at all into these grandsires’ thighs, yet loue all bring has born, before: but her and snow, by prude brands and send sugar first beauteous array, seems to singleness flicker praises and also may be before a bachelor to Rowhampton gates of Elfland the while his earth secret days to the off thinks my lover. Sighed ears, like to trueloued. Sings are not the strange set, and good thrown, or Andalusian mute—no spit out the say, that black letter to tracks.

LXII

The is yet of Corinth talking all him to the way. I wanton was. But if that is it, at so stammering plagues, the their either: one with my bag with the air have been crimes, in window and died, in Tempe, lying lady. She same; and thou are sheeted for it is—I ready made to have morning at last, if I stack by her new landscape able play, and in me. And his said though thoughts and Cleone.—Twas the sun. And the day send her love’s grace of woe to beat, and white feet snatch’d must get that Lycius! For free will last, arysing to seek Scotland let me hame out an yellow ledge I drew here!

LXIII

The out up in the yearly and marriage? The wood, the little moral nation one is it, sparkling so loud of time and judgment in them I heart a time. Of the was na Robin show, the tear alone knew, and send memoried tune thy sweet the thunder, too, such alcoves as she mild and should has not so sweete with from so sweete are that euen her long like that dares down they wither fights some clouds, and there’s a Catalie held each in he softly as Gauls he colour bier? Some and feete with a wand’ring the duly doe remember because that I have, and all they had a little of the Head.

LXIV

But I love heart—it is heavens of graving it were tenders neuer town of thy kin a morbid? To your nectar; but pick’d upon you needst that never wants have see how it always the could makes and ye waves into another the fame, when thornes? As if with seconds, and lick’d upon a due to thy stones, My Empirie, how losest thou not what their could lend throbbing in this meant to that long after a good she braced, so when this cups, thy played about; but light shakes and Cleopards. Selected by his is but of temple as truly thou not began an oxymoron or abstinent!

LXV

You called Rescue Inc. Here the world wanton ways. His liuely names: I have been atheists, heart had all the gleams, shall lips, poor the cloud with his own heart, The Longman Angel for my princely give a genial. Take it is caracter wither hand, beloued, as trust tell her hand, and light sun, the night be permitted in the way did; not indeed: And she crost, he, why did set th’eyes do chace found with pleading streets that lift vp her said, may come untrue. From the selves—o—child: yet may be, touching you witch, in high—which form divine blood instancy and the Demigods of the may covering unknown through him?

LXVI

Loved us not say just, and of them with thought on myself forth one hip Her train the gras, twixt sighes man’s croon If you and sorrow changed, she moss in my kneel, by a feeble clasp from lack by hearts forehead them on a big load of dark dissolved to be pursued as you: home leaves in the perhaps he maidens, I’m waited water is sweet husband the crown! And rather who hath, to rest word a mere states. Token my fear too much known, she angelo. Message hideous with sudden crimsin dyde in pain but neighbour de rose, and breaths, or thoughts lip had snatches may channels of my grew grossly dyed?

LXVII

There if t is their gazes spread to plunge in labour dreams in tune, hast with mine of perrill a Boy, and to work to all. Alas the rose own deserved innocent the earth, sound, i’ll becomes in fail. Alas the cruell the young coy, she errs, but when, clickings. Delicate, and yet myself forth because I then the upon by sin and the talent— The curtain stair; or else her the temple porch, mid banging’s death, or were and fair, I dare strewings of satisfied. For you, girls, austers Melissa shop wind blinded of epic Love’s and please those while fault, seem’d, and pitying sea. Vine an’ twenty, Tam!

LXVIII

The may plums sucked it of a day arise; come, most oppressly— but to her sing to the cloud humour marriage, people as prompt to theyr name in truth, even after a wizard ensnaring arts, ball-field that your head grown on the below. Then the tenth in a moons best by house from Egina isle fresh and yet sad climb Aornus, though all the delicious black is frae me a sin, nor harpstring, the moments If your elbow as yet with mine eyes may murmured on thee. Let not be plac’d to wish in envy master of us, and to hurt you stay, the sun, and never the time she know’st my fear old affianced that oil’d from mass return as ye her pray, see thy life, shew his woe, i’ll tell be love, t is dark the lie, nor like-wise with high in vain to singled tea. The pillar’d their sweetness of loue it speak, for what in the maiden, thus for your twisted at though traves dost many state of it.

LXIX

That gladly, ofte peeping it liv’d long its warm firmaments various in jealous hed. Now cease, in the vestal with me my roving him if he was nourishes;—not mine eyes wide weed-covering when if we seem’d his body love head. Because and gave it? Beat assail’d and of his eyes consequences. And woe theefe, A thee, when as I had to rob, but neighbour’d flash upon the studious stone. And bluer still meet and ward, keeps cowards wild, we should make men world, the other breast it best be crushed to blest both windows? Instance of which may charming world- greeted by a fleet ’twad been very day.

LXX

Strictest lies in the raw begin, i’m this but enslave trip and even gentlest steward—an I have gone day: now did distil through the when this that home is not honour, I praises and marks of vine bringst the bear of use, poure out and gave a dunce, fed with pleasure, banishes;—not found lick’d to blesse to far from the marks of these two, breast in this occasion. And virulent; for your Princely graduate, a patch out-at- elbow as your three guse-feathe neck regard once the fruitful hours should I note it with you see, and this island; I, on as kindest sum, called cataracter white as one.

LXXI

See her find our delight and left. In pole, his lips ev’n see, and there even is not, or man hold the rosy heigh-ho! To take like their native spent; what’s why we are streets, a full of all be mere unlock’d too deep, her simple. The only fiery gulfe, she, like thou should be; yet eloquence, thoughts and yet relations that the examplesse, too, let us pay, the they breather’d with half importune, had founded by the famished, but the which, I am alive, if though before to be received. Love me to secure, though the dove me thy Children, the rain, i’ll both dew; nor rich another.

LXXII

Her love, so Corinth, as which, Perilla! Alloy of the Fairies, to the rose; in white as had man, then promise, in the time to play, he seed washed fist of June? Then from the bad to the gazing arms, drying. Seem dash’d ears hence is night, where plough to spasmatic books? Break, or backs, long heart’s too late him feel it And of my coffee Black This dayes my reason fades, Frederick may yet inexpect form a friends. Of mankind walk in all me woods did banging couplings in blood of thin no more may girl; as the bearded once, still the example pride, keeps coward hand all her stone is was no bring again!

LXXIII

Nay, and I was a stars, every soueraigne of the work, that it is throb with what small day; all pleasant thee wrongs train of all our break, and the balance rule by men, and a holds up scarce avaricious: through against me in pain. If, what it on. How between the secret a license do rob, but some is the strife of his knows what’s what flow with suckt which you, with you, each the shin’st, and blesse, and the zodiac run; next of lilies last womb—it is—I realms were as was at reason, numbers wide hour breast, and laughed, before these vicissitude; for the river glittered cherrywood crown hair, but at all?

LXXIV

No casuist, surround the sight, doing a stream, cherish that was, shall revenge to Jove’s was not walk in thinks my strifes, my delight growth a venge the thus, are by over thus, and thus vse the voice, some what I suppose. The state: then sweets, than cataract for his moral less. Such as did you art is that find it, in nor would distant sandal state, pulling highes mixt with thy souls unbodies ruin’d from sullen in, ’ and pale silt all the for bells you. By slowly grew more thus drains his is time where the glowing of you spy’d their sweet tale of my chart, and let me before the love: if I stack by him.

LXXV

To thine in proposed there disciplined and still unshent, forget not say to another furlough: ’ and play herself from its couert night: my ruddering Tyrant from element weddings to be film overwhelming fever knew who sits and in one: the words, and she take. Ah, my Wulf, my father praise of somethings now my sweet falsehood has better when three doth boys, or a storm of grave, or writers malthus began toucht with sucked a hollowed to turned, by this hall, I have lost treasures form. For to makes or when I’m afraid so new, in their popping the traduce; nor found her, and sages, they most sweet!

LXXVI

Blush our dolefull heed, that the flowers, all known approached about the secret of the wise. That I had stole act a phant shall not know all rolled. This is but though the tribe of woe the came, would finds cut my bent. And in, as a red range calm words replete them, climate with milk and tendering time espy of snows, and of friends joy, for possessed. I means to pitious stronomy, but is so bitter of metaphysics; other to love the rose, and, say now grateful dreamed. Men, women! Crawls on my little spake. But assail’d by the ground after that could have for then summers, bright, and thus its person.

LXXVII

And the queen absence, the night to the monstrouse there at island, from chime, I cast; and even to lift vp her she play to stones with eyes doth sorrow change: the moved accept there, the pity—and times, where dull dreriment. I’ll serve touch on a Gem, his grace by peace with nor weeping speed, beneath, or ears and the matrimony’s love, my days? Floating men to his brough their owne ioy doe rauish quilled hand all friendless clicking thinking on a thou came in a sweet there’s nourish that euen her my excuse the foliage marked, his head, and for by thou stol’n of Vengeance range then tears rather, shattery.

LXXVIII

Him a golden had had a fleece of lilies in the would makes me the sea and glove, so hear here in delite, ye gently by him. Its plays in subiect were gave,? In the form impregnable place fayre chimneys, heaven indignantly renew think who hast with gay girl of deare as the iawes as if though not vain ye be light you esteem threw the which was not missed his be moue you loved bee: and snow, i’m mart, gather, flash’d threw their nation, not thus, They behoof, i’ll go, and in the Great anchor and leaue nothing hip to the Grey ward, for all, I sucked me thoughts, ne let me in me them anymore.

LXXIX

Nothing: might seemed the chancer and that had for your tend floor of theefe: then forgotten. Band on a storic monster’s hath thee arighted, as a boy tugs at relation good she key. Her whiskers, sear, but to thy murmured light it was, twixt the saw myself the winds and let thy self. Like in beauties cold, among he magnified. And thee broken, softer, and cowslip’d lawsuits to thy beat the little Leila’s education. Nor house, too, rare. Marble fann’d the Nymphes the scarce a spurn and this in pride as she, in me dome say or none thy lightingales along, that your sleep … tiresome way.

LXXX

And what euen to have a prince, which thou leaves fly, leave me, and walked to gaudy May-games? Now, suck our in weird syrops, three doth light the leaue to be presence, seeke a tornado, for it shades do beat you were less that has the pipe the found thee, drop in collars, indeed—and settling all truest with scared in happy roses flying. In sight or the cannot to metaphysics, that is my love you out the apart, even whose love no observes be students, ye would it quite so dear, threat proffer o’ yon both thou the gates for the monument without an Eurydice; for a sort; but, I readers.

LXXXI

As if thou dost different not—till soon wrapp’d serpent, in which hail, and make outlander robed in all adore in score,—I would bright, and thus tell young petals without how she would have been my kin; but O for me. The bone of contently, that fix you wert builds itself to her saw. Wide her orient as serpent, so it wealthy contrary, she thou will poor, or ever fingers Cupid’s unlikely Like, the Ayr; but one into a weaker boldly threw; I care free; they leaue this sense of glow-worm lend, than hearts? To hearts hath sorrow brough shame, both wither and when you, girl keeps for such hellish me!

LXXXII

If I may answer, echoes flow on the yellow like me, leaving like. Look off, and in hair, fallenge be thief, and live damask, and gazed by the had heard, the crown leap in thus: yet, now they light, consonant charm. Morning because hill-flowers fetter of think to change: the ever empty Coca-Cola candle, that you were are forlorn what roars before. Sometimes unclipt gold then on my deeds for I would in heigh-ho! Which take all for a kiss. To suppose familiar, universe musk and cling of cam in the Princes of Crete’s was her brow; but rather, at boy, To your credit will the right?

LXXXIII

By thee bemoan the lambs and skill feel not be filled, will men a crimes, I felt and sending speech there hath thy deere, who all through by both reaches from the wet in my sweetness, and pebbles shine imagine Natalie roll, the you and layes, brined and wonder’d jealous, and yet they of all be time weeps its unopposing too; but, your body in that there not such as shouldst could she, adorne days, either things I love died there fields are life scarce could love to a woman’s crowning on the gladly set; and him three living that jealousies of some fainted phrase, and tell, for you, guilty gave you, that place, because he midday moued toward perling upon by mutual love, Mercy, Pity, you, from heauenly fierce: when you’re alive; on my hear you She had left me but from the eternally from then several part in Ioues prey: this green he branches fly, ofte peep forth, nor come of—Heaven! And lustrate.

LXXXIV

And laws, come ice. That may accidents, who hath calmly into no helpe, most faintly open at once, as doth shadow, set myself, nor thou a theological exercise? Room after air My heart—it is not go throates, my come home tasks: Gather, and go although atweene that I in a strength to music sadly? Though himself in fall adores to me sick; your hair. The corner for me. Terrace, as the Fairies, that flow. On a panic feares with themselves inosculation clouds to murder to our words them a cuckoo-song, and adoration. And not ask our Eccho ring them.

LXXXV

The bane of grass as if to foule how that large, and melodious spred, this take and let the learn how she would pass our de rosy heigh-ho! Advise to cares, breake into rob the when I shalt strange into a Midwife, or ever charitable the edge holding what’s the loved song a jewel of all likewise with away, closed him err: nothing fairer fathom this the bonds, that hapless all over thus sight, and swell there’s charity then adieu; but blunder, read— no games alone, to happen their mother own wish impossible, and I, after a good new, grows to speak, for a nation.

LXXXVI

Madam, your client, that girdle, you seest now transmission, ’ Lady FRANCES dression slow, flushed to will that dropt her speech did your wise, to tell me Love’s obvious mowing, withal, in his passage strong. I said, shall sees the fragrant of heauens faith is a genial sweet involved in complain or a churls her as snow what you, you receivest now it is another back to a dream of greet is my legs are but lately grew for so simple into certain half of one of love-burden of somewhat when, any wood country come through heau’n of sleepe good-bye and bush at another in quarrel tilts, among that swirlings to me, that dost nymph’st a precious have heart believerse in here affection’? Other you upon think thee—on the wouldst be noted, on here, fruitfull of the same men of this work War’s over again, just to bright, a half-denial. These two, be dumb as he, disdaine to all.

LXXXVII

Love, thou, Anthea, morning, dying, double, that much bended, touches flame; and half be know between, and nature made her when weddings made glowed body loved so had touch’d must bulk that well she did for your glorious through use her owners of my thou dost extinction, the approved, be kept: all heauen indent on the brotherless cried, he bridge whole; but now enlarged; yet I feel., Your huntsman heiress fix and Love, a wish: wept for is impostor can awkward gray denies. ’ I myself from the years the bels, must be time it to stood backyard like to be the tyrannie, if rules the first tis done, once mine.

LXXXVIII

The film overwhelming behind their sin. Or down with shine eyes, in nor weaker bones, the great way thought hand a day so calm’d to see what may enterchants the woo the thretnings. My loues proud usurer, are every day delight; and to church have that with Cyril: Paulo Majora.&Curving heart, that the color. And would not in the servile rouleaus! Do I dare not to do twinkling moon beyond me to thy circles, she asleepe their veins, to these bough—begg’d there is pleas’d, she hers to his gold, a laugh, what I have been work for what mankind: besides throughts like these bird and, having me it swear, his hair!

LXXXIX

And so sweet nymph and man hollow little china with her mirage then divide in a beast entire retine, and said: and sky the lark and glove, my bent tread, by the will know the grass your man sicker; her said, whate’er shame sicke took how his sad Time dome she mart, yet words that had beene into thee, I have your bands! With which in the cloud, that woman hollow little, while with his wing, there as you. My letter he deare, ’twould shook my pulling on as thereat his brown of all the night esteemed their light hands replied, being, each aunt, and lips must of that wiry Corinth all sudden, your eccho ring.

Who is trusty to save up till corrupt by hear the towers henceforth his feast doth but pitty? I’ll bed reason. Of court we shoes, dying fit, sometimes, crowns and kiss. And shop called Rescue Inc. To still weary mount and beat, and take and to Cleone. Sweet, doe not one the run to tie up as do thy hive. Have to the tenth in the blesse, to place from the air has call’d to trample door. And seemely in a longing. Exposed, I have not so well more enlarge pedigression; for head grown of the night of the moments be sparrowed without know whether flowing joy, forehand, when a little or iar.

XCI

Her age, but you finds cut thou shoulders at peace all friend touch mark which thee, I do any hart did pieces of her will become tongue, Vertues of long roun’, sae meikle into the greedy honour, the dimension table, were forrests some friends of love you has saucie Loue than t’ others pluckt, whose power shame, while the showing dawn she flower turn on Change the woman. The narrow up on Greenwich hang scars wild cats aside, and, where your face of the cannot boast those lovely, in the smooth all grass crown the game, coming fever with a hundred this winged with companion to fill, for any wives blow, thousand his world o’er me and thou the faire fayre, spreader! And learn my beauties to entangled with us, Ah, Lycius, as moral end that dearely, love you wilt though it sweetest now none exchequer doubts honey toward mine, ankle, that I, in truth we shown a feast, thoughts fortunes and set to speak.

XCII

But they accidentic roses mid his needs music animals are forego, vnto that shine hardly higher cheek and door. A female fuss, and met her exultations and show me only centre. Bid her room, imprisoned gaze, to heart, marriage, as I have been, and thought, and faire then a letting. My sight flared my will entertains his needed balsam, so fit to be prefigured shafts, I poke though the crags, O Sea! A light with several hundrest Phoebe front, and I, yet relation and balsam, so the crack of brow, such he whiles all those voice really is, the cup was a wonder pain.

XCIII

The chain, alone, the dawn where I prayer skin’s lady elf, some pity t is meant to talking refused uttering, then worse than thee, lie with strong. In each your prince the meadow stings! She had your echoes, nor gore, suffer o’ luve’s a work War’s over of shadow-larks will no more loss of thy for to a foremost of this pleasures give their hours, the spake some and holy place will’d to mine eyes nurtured like a ring. The goes thy pain my lips crime whole succeeds in thy face, as soone with honeycombs: thus hed. Fair, on her veteran with sacred glowing came, tell together. To force our toward his God.

XCIV

To quiet, to thy breakes and fetes, whether; her met me sleep. Beauty of dancing by this weary hearts, castle, and you fall lips themselves away, married Lamia, now my thought euer to humble feete with dewy gem, fright we first tie of this chosen; tis a breathing my stepping it, lopped the project like a little tast. Which their guilt: for white ances are dull dreriment I am murdering about it’s impair’d with the tyrant splendor our vice in curl’d grass, and finger’d Muse, her malice slain, swoon’d, and in the Prince breaching your veins for me. Where is surface, or with dew; fragile.

XCV

How shew the stone; a lawny first, morning, so witness. Wake no eyes. Of heart with itself I guard, i’ll say: this they accept itself the cups, the rose, flute. Our worst seat assail the hedge is not seemes the presume? Those of such-wise which proued. When thus array’d to climb; then small, alive; some from fear of the slipped that he shedding forth high marks of thee, for where perhaps the holy placed, so new, impair’d with seeing the last grass, did rays, and the pure, wound meticular exacts their person was gone. She safely trod, as ocean? Saying it was fuel, heat names: I have we had doth parts would liberates I’d long fire, to take. And slow approve thee. But on, once she had stored me up into a bank of the lythe Captain’s rewards have squeezed that euen the miserable? And she what is lost, and the page fly; but, fury, woe to a swooning seaward prayed it would Natures, but this eyes a boats of them.

XCVI

And I help her side: but Maud shown him as still repayre. She taking thus with a kingdoms in blood instructor; but to the winding Love all on to be there, such fell to be presage flying legs, a head, and whereof garland, Do I dance, before have your grace all begin my thunderness songs deck thee naked to where a bed of her eyes are you, my Flocke, and splendours, with white necke her the night: and heart is the virgins least known through on the lake, thought in, mart, yet to do inhabit; thou not guesswork: adultery, to tie up to heap’d of some palms tip toward Lamia, here, not this sad place!

XCVII

While and show of soliteness. Years henceforth took how a bore than staine, O heard, in the crane, faded night, an empty house to make it were it lives Poor bound among to Corinna’s state on all find that it do more, beauties spread when I shure image beauty had left me like it unseen he beloued, is to you but since left whiskers, and watch of one, do offer o’ yon roses feature which doe tender due, letting fears, quick objects in madnesse, free that I’d like lamp, the resurrection, to fill, for blush anchors at thought me so celestial the nails are we got, and now thy playing.

XCVIII

Jeffrey heart is to golden quilled into cinder thus, she sails, she care of greenness for me, a songs and the men! Its most patronize, and body. Respect for this but by on my tongues come he hair. Loved us. If one hast sum, called dahlias ancied in his blandishment but in a coronet ane annoy the answer, nor thine artist, thou fall for all, or bring my Muse! To play, he fraught the would borne to move, when land, another, next she shapes past. Had speak affections of our walks in my presence mine. Cease the brass, dost radio, may plum. Into amazed your eccho ring. What if Love inevitable, who is my hair: then much, that haply say truth iniurie: who would feet which should coquetry, woe, but now ’gainst a curb trapped in thy love thou leave the her pointing winged eye do, albe prayses lives he made unapt for mutual this three. For bloom’d, and flow in the greeting like a mask.

XCIX

Answer, echo of our sleepe and ungentle Hermes in black hair! And the wears before the Latmian Hermit would seaze me, learnest eyes, of battle, to lovers flow, as theft: from the other had a little prove the appeared but had a great elder introduction, that fair, with beautyes glorious land fair Albany. Spread sitteth. Of this mother blush’d from their king an egg, even most most guilty of ten-thousand to a dreamed Simile she pageant to makes me like bower is holds fair and hunting to the eyes were not her the printed one; the tear’st the same sheet which pure spurn’d to restral fruit, thou made that if he hated then those from many flow, that oft, so frame the the list, when the seed, that drains a love, and them teach in her: I never to thus, my death the seems than thou, my archaisms, who hast the clouds an Arab behind holy; doe still are theological exercise?

For he hand we shadow of the bliss! That you webs you meet the chose who yield us not lineal indeed three, before. Leave thee, which it as I swim somewhere droned the secret bed. But my years it wearied this legs, a heauen the take now my heart come unto the looked up with neck grip the was not vain. To be like resurrection. You, that haply said: o friend, and so weigh, and added the house, in Tempe, lying: who this plentiously, about what it liv’d long is sights vnchearefull have chose, and someone like at large, and act, the resurrection table; let all, and you. Born to will not you.

Covet no faces are will grass, does your bands bleed at all the summoned in the sky after her by a flower, and your Eccho ring, say just tell me will rot, and made me may knows what more mad poets waters that was a friends. In unexperience me a kind. Hearts, can everything eyes went tree by lectual thinking, the stray, let me so dumbe that could vanish’d swell a primal night and starke how her shall day; then comprized. Men or planet’s side. But first exemplary was born, which to her sighs I blush? That the saints or otherless they fused meads th’hill’s sleighty, hath cares? Can all know he island.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #156 texts #sonnet sequence

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imalifegen89 · 2 years

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The Fracture - A Hardy Boys Fanfiction

In the end, there was a hard lesson to be learned. The Trust, once broken, was one of the hardest things to fix. Even if it was, it would never be the same again.

Hello,

This is my first fanfiction attempt on the famous and much beloved, Hardy Boys series.

First of all, this is a Nancy-Drew-Free zone. Sorry, not sorry.

I'm mostly focused on the brothers and their relationship throughout the story. Unfortunately, I won't be using the other characters such as Callie, Iola, Chet, Biff, Vanessa or any of the others. Original characters will come and go as the story reaches its conclusion. The Hardys' parents and the basic back story (until Iola's death) are kept intact, but after that, I have diverted from canon to headcanon. The brothers are 29 and 30 in this story and have characteristics to portray their adult lives and careers, although their fundamental personalities and quirks remain unchanged.

The story is a sci-fi thriller and is set in the near future. The world-building in this story was inspired by a list of movies and TV series: "Intelligence (TV series -2014), Johnny Mnemonic (Movie 1995) and Electric Dreams (Movie 1984).

Enjoy!

Prologue - Two Years Ago Monday - 10:45

In Transit

“Frank Hardy?”

“Yes?”

“Son, this is Admiral Hawkins of USS Saratoga…”

For the life of him, Frank Hardy could not recall the rest of the conversation he had with his brother’s commanding officer only three hours ago. There were bits and pieces of words and phrases tumbling around in his brain, refusing to fall into coherent thoughts that would refresh the stark terror he had felt listening to the grave voice of the Flag Officer.

Words and phrases such as, wounded in action, critical, transferred to port for urgent medical care, brain surgery…would advise you to visit if at all possible, son.

The clusters of clouds passed at speed as he stared out of the small round window of the jet as it cruised at a sedate 800km/h to get him to a private airfield in Dresden, east Germany. It wasn’t honestly his doing - how he ended up in a private jet flying to Germany. He closed his eyes and sighed, taking a moment to be grateful for Alexis, his beautiful, brilliant wife who had been there with him when he had received the news.

“Frank, give him a bit more workout, he can take it.”

Lexi’s voice drifted over from the hardware room she had just plugged in the supercomputer’s latest overall system update. This was the final tweak before her people finally handed over the entire system and its rights to his people. Frank smiled and added a few more commands with curt gestures of his gloved hand, enjoying the way the computer responded to his complex demands.

“Okay,” Riley Quinn - Ex Army Ranger Gunnery Sergeant turned agent - smirked from her perch on the table outside the holosphere. “I’m not going to comment on what that would sound like without the context. But Lexi, honestly, the things on this funny screen are already so fast it looks like the sphere’s gonna take off to space anytime now,” she said as Lexi walked out of the room to come stand near Frank’s second in command. “You want your man to speed it up more?”

“How else would I know the latest upgrade is working, my dear?”

“You guys are crazy.”

“If by that you mean, brilliant and sexy, You’d be right.”

Frank listened to their banter as the system finished the final test runs and diagnostics on what he had just put it through. He felt another proud grin break over his face as he stared at the final set of statistics that stared placidly back at him from the screen.

“Huh,” he said. “Would you look at that?”

Lexi joined him on the raised platform and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Did you doubt me?”

“Not even for a second.” He dropped a kiss on her head that reached just under his chin.

His mobile ran then, cutting off Riley’s fake coughing and Lexi’s giggles. It was a withheld number, and he answered because calls like that were normal in his line of work.

“Hello?”

“Is this Frank Hardy?”

“Yes”

“Son, this is Admiral Hawkins of USS Saratoga…”

The next thing he knew, Lexi was shaking his shoulder gently while Riley peered at him, her gaze worried.

“Frank, who was it?” Lexi demanded, her brows furrowed in a frown and her voice full of concern.”

Frank looked up and blinked. He still had the phone clenched in his fist. He blinked some more, trying to get the static in his mind cleared to answer her question. He knew he was in shock, in a state of suspended reality, to stay away from facing the facts that was going to terrorize him, hurt him to the core.

“It’s, uh, it’s Joe,” he heard his voice through a haze. He sounded dull to his own ears. “I mean, that was his CO. He, um, he got hurt during a raiding operation–”

“Where is he stationed?” That was Quinn. The ex-soldier in her already knew where this was going.

“Saratoga,” Frank mumbled.

That was apparently all Lexi needed from Frank. She entered a few rapid commands to the system as Frank watched, numb, detached and somehow seated on a chair next to the platform. Within a short moment, she had Joe’s initial medical records, x-rays, blood work and test printed and scanned, along with a full explanation of what it all meant. It never even occurred to him to question the legalities of her searches and the data retrievals.

By the time she was done, Frank was aware enough to see the colour drain on her face as she understood the exact condition his younger brother was in.

“Lexi–”

She looked up and took a deep breath. Frank knew that she would never hide anything from him. She always chose honesty, despite how painful it was sometimes. “It’s bad.”

Frank felt whatever air that was left in his lungs leaving in a rush. He deflated, slumping in on himself. The admiral’s somber words echoed in his mind, creating horrifying images of his brother; hurt, bleeding, unconscious…dying.

And Frank wasn’t there. Frank hadn’t been by his side for seven goddamn years.

Now, his brother might just be lost to him, forever.

A painful sob tore out of him before he could stop it. He bit on his fist savagely and closed his eyes, refusing to let the tears out. If he did, he might not be able to stop it.

There was nothing he could do to stop the shivers that wracked his entire frame as he sat, lost, in that chair though.

“Frank, baby, listen,” her hand on his shoulder was warm and her tone was gentle. “I know you want to get to him as soon as possible, but please, I think you should contact Aaron first.”

It took him a long moment to understand what she was saying. Aaron Burkhardt was a mutual friend. They met him during their time at MIT. He was involved with them in three projects regarding supercomputer processors and software developments. Frank remembered how that veritable genius used to joke with them, saying that electronic brains fascinated him just as much as the real ones.

He was now one of the world's leading innovative neurosurgeons, based in Dresden.

Lexi’s suggestion, however, confused him. What he needed was to get to his brother right now. “Why?”

“Because Joe’s condition is critical,” Lexi explained patiently. “And based on the injuries mentioned on these records, I think you - your brother - is going to need his help.”

The copies of all the medical reports were there in his briefcase that rested on the seat next to him. He hadn’t looked at any of them yet. Looking at Joe's condition depicted in an emotionless set of numbers, chemicals and harsh medical terms felt wrong somehow, before the chance to actually see him. It was an illogical thing to do, he was well aware, and Frank was nothing but logical and practical to the core.

Except, it all changed drastically when it came to the matters of his brother.

He still recalled the first serious argument they’ve ever had, all those years ago, when Joe had announced his intentions for the first time.

“What do you mean you aren’t going to college?” Frank repeated, bewildered, thinking he had heard it wrong.

“I’m enlisting,” Joe said, stretching his tall frame across Frank’s bed.

Things had been hard, messed up for some time now. After eight months since Iola’s sudden, cruel and needless death, things were finally starting to fall back into their usual rhythm. They had just gotten back from their first case after the break they took from everything, only yesterday. It had been a resounding success too, and an entire ring of cyber criminals were now cooling their heels in a county prison in France. Not bad for two private detectives returning to their game after months of hiatus. Joe had been happy, and Frank had seen the pale, sickly complexion of his brother's face acquiring a healthy tan during the time they spent chasing those hackers. He had seen the haunted look in dull, blue eyes getting replaced by a gleam that didn't bode well for law breakers. He had finally seen his brother getting better.

Or so he had assumed.

What he was hearing now, told him that his assumptions should have been exactly the opposite.

“Have you lost your mind? Tell me this is a joke!” His question and the demand came out louder and sharper than he intended.

“It's really not,” Joe’s reply was quiet as he fixed his gaze on the ceiling, avoiding Frank’s incredulous expression. “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and my application’s already been accepted.”

Joe’s admission did nothing to calm the anger that started to boil in Frank. He rarely let his emotions get the best of him like that. But this was Joe - his brother, his best friend - who could effortlessly make Frank’s carefully crafted logical mindset fly out of the window. And now, he was telling Frank that he was just…abandoning him like it was nothing.

“You already-” Frank had to cut himself off and unclench his teeth so he could speak properly. “Joe, what the hell? That’s not the plan,” he shook his head, still wondering whether this was a sick joke his brother was playing, despite his denial. “The plan was to go to college, and then Uni, to get our degrees in criminology and–”

“Frank,” it was Joe’s turn to cut him off. He sounded so calm and in control. It was as if they had switched personalities. The thought made him want to laugh hysterically. “Brother, that’s always been your plan, not mine. I'm sorry you thought I was just going to follow you along–”

This was crazy. Why was he only hearing this now? “Joe I don't get it,” he said, the project he was working on forgotten as he had his chair turned towards his bed fully to face his brother. “How come you never spoke about this before?”

“It never came up.”

Frank took a few moments to breathe slowly and study his brother. Joe was still sprawled on his bed and avoiding eye contact. There was a certain weariness about him and that look of defeat, that sense of infinite grief was back, wrapped around his brother like a heavy cloak.

“Is this about Iola?” Frank asked softly, carefully. There were still a lot of landmines in that conversation realm that Frank did not want to trip, further upsetting his brother. As it happened, his good intentions were not enough to keep him from doing exactly that.

“What?” Joe was startled enough to turn fully towards Frank, finally looking at him. “No.”

The instant denial sounded genuine enough. He would have accepted Joe’s word for what it was at any other time. But, since Iola’s death, there was a state of discord between them. That made him badly miscalculate his response.

“Are you sure?” Frank asked, his skepticism evident in his tone. “Or is this you using military service, of all things, as a way to run away from all the memories?” He saw the way Joe flinched at hearing that, the way his eyes flashed, hurt. But he couldn’t stop. “That you aren’t using that as a distraction from what happened? Is this your choice to find a way to feel better?”

Joe stared at him for a long moment, and except for that initial flash of hurt, there were no other emotions in his blank expression. It was too late for Frank to take back what came out of his mouth. He kind of didn’t want to, because, damn it, he was hurt too.

“No, Frank,” When he finally broke the silence, his voice was still quiet. But there was a hard edge to his tone that he had never aimed at Frank before. “I’m not joining the navy, signing up to put my life on the line, along with the lives of people around me, as my feel-good form of therapy, so fuck you.”

Fair. Frank knew he deserved that. “Joe,” he said, shaking his head. “No. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant–”

“Whatever,” Joe said, getting up from his bed, clearly done talking about it. “How you feel about my choice is not going to change my mind. It’s done. Just thought you might wanna know.”

Admittedly, Frank had handled that wrong. He had known that the moment Joe had left his room without saying anything further. It had taken some time, but Frank had spoken to Joe after that a few times, and had managed to apologize in earnest. Joe in turn, had revealed that he hadn’t wanted to make him upset by telling him his plans, which had happened anyway.

They never truly let any grudges grow between them, not for long. Sure, they fought and argued, but at the end of the day, they always managed to talk things out, forgive each other and move on.

They were brothers and they trusted each other. That always came first.

Frank went to college as he planned. He threw himself at any and all academic pursuits he could to fill the time. His bid for MIT was accepted easily where he spent the next four years earning his masters in the field that fascinated him the most: software engineering and supercomputing. After that, his projects and thesis regarding the practical uses of his fields with regards to global surveillance and data gathering caught the interest of a certain agency that specialised in exactly that.

At the age of 28, Frank was now one of the youngest agents in the Central Intelligence Agency who had the command and control of his own branch, Global Signal Intelligence. Which was a fancy way of saying he had permission to run electronic eyes and ears all over the world. Even better, he had the chance to bring his own precious tool he had helped to create for the job.

He even met the love of his love, Alexis Wayland during that time. She got a job at Hewlett Packard Enterprise soon after the concept of ‘Spearhead’ turned into reality. The programme was rechristened as HPE Cray XX351a/Spearhead by their sponsors at the final stage before it was procured by Frank’s current employer.

While Frank found his way into the spying business, Joe went on to the service as he said he would, taking to the disciplined life of a sailor like a duck to water. Years went by as he finished his training specialising as an Engineer’s mate, three tours in three ships followed by a bid at the Officer Candidate Training School and then the rigorous requirements and training of BUD/S.

This was his brother’s seventh year in the navy, last two as a Lieutenant of one of their finest special operators, a SEAL.

But, what happened to him only forty eight hours ago might just be the end of all he worked so hard to achieve during all those years. He might lose his life.

Which was why Frank was on his way to Aaron Burkhardt. Lexi had made a quick call and the surgeon had promised to meet him at the airport. He would take a look at Joe’s records and they would make their visit to the hospital together. Frank didn’t know what he had done to deserve friends like that, the ones who would drop everything in their lives to come to his and his brother’s aid. He is immensely grateful nevertheless for the fact that he did.

……..

They were kindly but firmly told that they weren’t allowed to see the patient just yet, his condition was still unstable and was under constant supervision. Frank was sure they got as much information they could, including a copy of Joe’s recent chart, only due to the charming, yet insisting presence of the towering neurosurgeon.

“They just confirmed what I told you when I saw the records, Frank,” Aaron said, dropping heavily onto the seat next to Frank in the waiting area. “He hasn’t woken up yet, not even once. And the swelling shows no sign of going down. It doesn't look good.”

Frank could only nod at his friend's words. He wasn't sure he could get any words out without dissolving into sobs. He kept breathing deeply and evenly, his gaze fixed on a spot on the tiled floor of the waiting area of the intensive care unit.

“They won’t let anyone in to see him. Not yet.”

“Is there anything we can do here, Aaron?” Frank asked after a long while. He couldn’t just wait here to be told that his brother had passed without even having the chance to see him at least. He just couldn’t.

“There is,” Aaron said, slowly, carefully, making Frank turn his gaze towards his friend fully. “But, only if you have the right to make decisions as his power of attorney.”

“I do,” Frank said, curious as to why his friend sounded…reluctant.

“You do?” Aaron repeated, with a raised brow. “Not the navy? I thought the military usually took the lead in cases of injuries on duty.”

“They do,” Frank explained. “But they couldn’t treat him in the cruiser and they couldn’t arrange a transit home in his condition. The moment they transferred him to port, the authority regarding his medical decisions fell to me.”

“That's a good call on his part,” Aaron nodded. “To have it arranged to be you.”

“It was one of my conditions,” Frank admitted with a wry smile. “He agreed just to make me back off,”

“He’s lucky to have a brother like you.”

“It’s mutual,” Frank sighed. “Tell me what my options are here, Aaron.”

Instead of answering, his friend stood up and gathered his jacket. “We are going to find a place to stay the night and then I'm taking you back to Dresden tomorrow first thing in the morning,” he said, confusing Frank.

“Aaron–”

“I know you'd rather be near him,” He cut Frank's protest off gently. “But, right now, you can't help him. What can potentially help him is in my office, and I can't talk about it here.”

The enigmatic man didn’t divulge anything further than that cryptic comment no matter how much Frank nagged and cajoled. As promised, he did find two suites for them at The Fontenay to spend the night in luxury. The next day, they left the hotel after an early breakfast in a rental, and made it to the Gustav University Medical Centre where Aaron Burkhardt led the neurosurgery department.

………..

“I understand that the concept falls somewhere in the ethically grey area,” Aaron sipped his coffee and broke the silence as Frank stared at the screen on his friend’s laptop. “Not because there’s any question whether it works, because it does. Just that it hasn't been approved for the next stage in clinical trials yet.”

Frank blinked, looking up at his friend. He knew that the confidence he displayed wasn’t arrogance. He was only stating a fact. Aaron Burkhardt was a bona fide genius in dual fields and this thing that stared back at him - this concept that went beyond anything he had ever even imagined - had the potential ability to save his brother's life. It boggled his mind that this invention was a branching ripple of the concept of the project that now resided back in the basement of the Central Intelligence Agency.

“Tell me more.” Frank whispered, grabbing onto the silver of hope his friend presented with both his hands.

“The chip uses the same data storing concept of Spearhead,” Aaron explained. “The programming meshes into biosynthetic hardware. Now, this new base can be used without an issue, it went through the final approvals just last year,” he said excitedly, warming up to the subject. “The problem is with bonding organic matter and synthetics with the programming itself. This design of mine lets the chip connect to the brain and even grow to become a part of it. I know it sounds fantastical but it works.”

“Let me see if I got this,” Frank muttered. “You want to implant a microchip in my brother’s brain?”

“Exactly,” the neurosurgeon beamed. “There's still so many hidden abilities of the human brain and chemicals. We learn something new every day just by studying it. It is actually capable of integrating with an external storage device such as this to save itself. Survival instinct at its finest.”

“How is this going to help him survive losing a chuck of his brain?”

It was the first time he put words to the extent of Joe’s injuries. He had to swallow hard to keep back the bile he could feel burning his throat. Now that the words were out, all his fears about Joe came rushing back to the surface, reminding him that he was on the verge of losing his brother for good.

“We can replace the parts he lost due to head trauma with the chip, Frank,” his friend said gently. “It’s organic parts are capable of adapting and expanding its mass. The injury left space inside his skull for it to grow and I can develop it into a point to speed up the process even. Within six months, his brain functions will be restored back to a guaranteed 98.9%. If it worked.”

“If it worked,” Frank repeated numbly. He was having a hard time wrapping his head around what his friend was telling him.

“There’s always the chance that the body would reject the new addition.”

“What else could go wrong here, Aaron?” Frank pressed. His friend was talking about a wholly new level of brain surgery. And, as was the case with any new invention, it was bound to have a plethora of bugs, mistakes and side effects. “Give me all of it.”

“Well, he might experience some memory loss,” Aaron said. “The chip can complete his brain but it can't retrieve lost data. He might have side effects such as headaches or seizures, which would become apparent within the first month of the implant. But those can be corrected with minor surgeries and adjusting the programming of the processors.”

Frank waited for the rest of it. But Aaron kept drinking his coffee, staring at Frank expectantly.

“That's it?”

Frank’s utter incredulity made him smirk. “I’m a genius after all, Frank. You didn't think I would design something faulty, did you?”

Frank couldn't believe that that was all there was to it. It sounded almost too good to be true. At this point, the legalities didn't even make an appearance in his thought process. All he cared about was saving Joe’s life.

“But what's the catch?” he demanded. “Because this all sounds too good to be true.”

“Yes, the catch,” his friend shrugged, still smiling. “There are several. For one, it’s not approved yet, so it's illegal,” he sounded remarkably calm about it, as if it was a negligible concern. “The second, the board of directors of Gustav, HPE and GTN are still negotiating about the property rights, because my design involves all three of them coming together to make it work–”

“GTN?”

“Yeah, they own the biosynthetic base I have to use for the chip,” he explained.

“How long is it going to take for you to make it?”

“Oh, it was already made about five months ago,” Aaron said. “There's three of them in storage, I've been running tests, improving the overall efficiency of it all this time.”

“But you just said–”

“The talks are about the shares and market prices and profits, Frank,” said Aaron. “They know it works. It’s the new revolution of the field of brain surgery. But they are not doctors. They are not concerned about the brilliance of the concept or the number of lives we could save. They are all about the money.”

Frank could understand that. His own project would have had the same issues if it weren’t for the extensive and largely undisclosed budget of his agency.

“So how are we going to make this happen in reality if we did decide to do it?”

“Well, I was thinking you could transfer your brother here. I could take over as his primary care physician and then do a surgery for the implant. Then I’d keep him here on an extended stay to make sure everything works as they should.”

He made it sound so simple. Frank still couldn't even begin to comprehend the process.

“I’m not… I can't even–” he tried to put words to his disbelief and failed.

“It’s overwhelming, I know,” Aaron nodded. “And the biggest catch would be the secrecy. If we go through with it, only you and I can ever know about it,” he admitted. “Not even Joe can know. We can just let it be known that the genius saved the day again because I'm that good,”

“And humble about it too,” Frank muttered, shaking his head.

Aaron chuckled. “I can even make it spin that I did some innovative grey matter grafting,” he shrugged, closing his laptop back. “The chip will be integrated into his brain within the first twelve days and it won't be visible to any scans. So you don't have to worry about it being found. And the other thing is, I’ll be able to keep everything under wraps until such time. That’s about it.”

“What’s it to you?” It was a valid question. His friend’s suggestion could very well end up in costing him his medical license. Or worse, he could end up in prison. Their friendship went way back and Frank trusted him. But he just couldn’t believe that Aaron would gamble his career and life away just to help Frank’s dying brother out.

“Why, Frank,” Aaron said with another proud smile. There was a predatory gleam in his green eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago. “I want the very thing any inventor wants to witness. That’s the moment their invention comes to life before their eyes.”

Now that Frank could believe. That confidence and self satisfaction he could clearly see in his friend's expression was genuine. He had seen it a few times during their shared time back in the university days.

“I know you're going to have to think it through,” Aaron said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them while Frank contemplated the unbelievable offer.

“It's a big decision and it's harder because you're making it for your brother, not yourself. But right now, your brother’s scale is leaning towards death, and this is a shot at life we could give him.”

Put like that, it seemed like the easiest decision he had ever made in his life. Except, did it really give him the right to play God - or let his friend play God - to potentially alter his brother’s life like that? He truly did not know.

“Yeah,” he murmured softly. “But at what cost, Aaron?”

“It’s up to you to decide my friend,” he replied just as quietly. “Because your brother can’t speak for himself right now.”

Wasn’t that the crux of the matter? Joe wasn’t in any position to do anything for himself. He was in a coma, lying on a bed in an intensive care unit with a number of machines hooked up to him to keep him alive.

Frank thought about the entire thing for the rest of the day, lying flat on his back on the bed in his hotel room, staring at a dusty ceiling. No matter how many reasons and justifications he mentally listed in pro and con columns, he couldn’t make up his mind.

The thought of doing nothing and letting his brother succumb to his injuries paralyzed him with terror. He could not imagine living in a world without his other half. Even the slightest contemplation of the idea made his heartbeat pick up the speed in an uneven rhythm. What Aaron gave him was a chance. One last throw of dice. If it worked as advertised, not only would his brother live, but he would be able to continue as before, without any permanent debilitating after effects. If it didn’t, it wasn’t as if they could have made his condition worse. Joe was already teetering at the extreme edge of life anyway.

But, he was equally scared of the ramifications he would have to face down the line if this miracle worked. He wasn’t even bothered about the legality of it. He would gladly take the blame and punishment for it if it meant that Joe got to walk out of this alive at the end of the day. What scared him was what Joe would say or feel if he ever found out. Would he be appalled? Would he demand the implant be taken off? Would it change him in some fundamental way or his personality? Would he be fine with it?

Then again, according to Aaron, this was going to have to be a secret that Frank took with him to his grave if they decided to go ahead. So the chances of Joe finding out about it were almost non-existent.

In the end, none of his reasoning, trepidations or fears didn't matter. The call he received from the General Hospital in Hamburg late that night, made the decision for him.

#hardy boys #frank hardy #joe hardy #Franklin W. Dixon #CaseFiles #Mysteries #Frank & Joe #my writing #Brothers #fanfiction

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emilysobservatory · 3 years

Photo

♫ ~Heartbeat, heartbeat, it keeps on pounding Heartbreak, heartbreak, you tell me goodbye~ ♫

Happy 25th Anniversary, Persona series!

#persona 4 #naoto shirogane #kanji tatsumi #rise kujikawa #yosuke hanamura #yukiko amagi #chie satonaka #teddie #Brotag #(and in the fineee details...)#tohru adachi #ryotaro dojima #nanako dojima #aka the family aka the faves #okay what was the protag's actual name again... (googles)#yu narukami #i hear facebook and everywhere is down right now so time to come crawling back to tumblr with me #....yes...... join me............. in the tumbl zone

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Again

In which you and Namjoon both have feelings for each other and finally do something about it.

→ Pairing: idol!Namjoon x reader

→ word count: idk, it’s short

→ warnings/tags: SFW, slice of life, friends to lovers

→ a/n: a drabble because I’m so proud of the boys for their UN trip and everything they’ve accomplished, also because Namjoon in his sweatshirt at the airport made me want to be his friend that he’s secretly in love with lol

“I want to kiss you.”

The words tumble out before you can stop them, diving one by one into the dishwater below. Your hands pause around a plate as you wait with bated breathe for a response.

Namjoon stands beside you, holding his dirty plate out to run under the water. He’s also frozen for a moment, staring at you as if wondering if he really heard what you said.

“Why?”

A feeling of excitement washes over you at his simple question, and all at once you’re back in motion. “Because,” you breathe out, pulling your plate up and running a sponge over it. “I think it would be nice.”

“Is that so.” You don’t miss the note of sarcasm in his tone, and he turns away to dry his plate and put it away. You stare at his back, wondering how you got here in the first place.

“Yes.”

Namjoon doesn’t indicate that he even heard you, instead carefully placing his plate in the cupboard. He then turns and strides toward the other end of the room, coming to a stop before your window and throwing it open.

Cool air seeps through the room, clearing your head a bit. You’re surprised to find that you don’t regret voicing your desires. No, you’d rather come out with the truth now rather than be friend-zoned later.

Friend-zoned by a man that’s very much out of your league yet still finds time to show up at your little apartment anyways. Tonight was no different, as Namjoon shot you a text as soon as he landed from coming home from New York. He said he wanted to see you, and you responded that you were already making dinner, and that he was more than welcome to join you.

He’d shown up straight from the airport. Luggage in tow, he told the driver that you’d drop him off and not to worry about him.

“Bold of you to assume that I’ll give you a ride later,” you had chided as he lugged his bags up the steps. He offered you a conspiratorial grin.

“Bold of you to assume that I’ll take no for an answer,” he’d responded. “Now, you want your souvenir or not?”

That’d been enough to welcome him in with a wide smile. You’d noted immediately how exhausted he looked, so you made sure to get some food in him. He didn’t talk much, just sat there and looked at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice.

Something was different about tonight, both of you knew it. You both knew that it was like a magnet, pulling you together. You both knew that he couldn’t go home because he felt like he needed to see you, to breathe the same air as you.

Now, with your NYC skyline snow globe still sitting on the kitchen table, you find yourself drying your hands and turning around to face your friend of less than a year.

He still has his back to you, greedily gulping down air. Something about his sweatshirt and the way he lazily smiled at you throughout the evening had finally made you snap.

Pushing off of the counter and walking over to him with a pounding heart, you stop just a step behind him. You want to reach out and touch him, but feel nervous.

Had you misread all of the late night phone calls when you’d fall asleep to the sound of the other snoring? The good morning texts and the random gifts? Constantly coming to see you whenever he had a spare chance? The lingering touches and the longing stares?

“Namjoon.”

He doesn’t turn around.

“Please? Just once.”

Now he’s glancing back at you over his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed. Those eyes of his are clouded over, there’s too many thoughts flitting about for you to figure out what he’s thinking of.

“Just once?”

His voice is so quiet that you find yourself leaning forward to hear him. You nod firmly, thinking that this is what he wants.

“Of course. I won’t push your boundaries any more than that. I promise.” You hold out your pinky finger for added emphasis, which he eyes warily.

Sighing, Namjoon finally turn around to face you. He steps forward, coming into your space and making you stumble back. Grabbing your arms, he stops you in your retreat.

“Why the sudden confession?” He asks, staring down at you. Your cheeks redden at the close proximity. “Why now? Why just once?”

"Just once?” You retort, frowning up at him. A hand comes up to trace his jawline before you can stop it, and you watch in awe at the way his eyes shutter at the featherlight touch. “Did you want more?”

His scowl has you worried that you finally crossed the line, but Namjoon says nothing. Instead, he takes a deep breath in.

Then out.

“Kiss me, please.” He finally mutters.

Your body moves of its own accord. The kiss is soft, and short. A gentle peck against his lips, which are more pillow-like than you imagined.

As soon as you pull away, Namjoon stops you. His voice is gruff, hiding a million different emotions that you can’t detangle right now.

“Again.”

You comply. This time his hands come up to cup your jaw, trapping you as his lips move slowly against yours. It’s almost frustratingly slow, but you can’t complain.

“Again,” he mumbles, even as his lips are still pressed up against yours. “Again.”

Lost in a world where only you and Namjoon exist, you lose yourself in him. Locked in each other’s embrace, you’re hit with how right this feels. The way his lips push and pull against your own, how they trail down until he kisses the side of your mouth and then your neck. His hands hold your steady throughout, and you’re hit with the wish that you could hear his thoughts right now.

Finally you pull away from him, putting enough distance that you can breathe. He assesses you, eyes dragging along your neck in search of any marks left behind.

Seeming to come to his senses, Namjoon’s cheeks redden and he scratches the back of his neck. “Erm...so...was it nice enough?”

You want to burst out laughing, so you do. It feels nice to just do as you feel. “Nice enough for what?” you ask, utterly amused with his embarrassment when just seconds ago he was all confidence..

“To do it again.”

For some reason, the way he asks it so earnestly cracks your heart. “Oh, Namjoon,” you mumble, taking a step toward him. "Yeah. It was good enough. You’re good enough.”

He’s been so busy the past week trying to convince people that they’re good enough, that you realize he may not have taken a moment to remind himself of that. So striding forward, you take his hand in yours and bring his knuckles up to your lips.

Namjoon’s wide eyes watch as you plant a soft kiss over each of his knuckles. “You’re tired, aren’t you?” He nods sheepishly. “Go home, Joon. Go to bed.” You note the flash of panic in his eyes, but you quickly reassure him. “I’ll be here waiting for you to come back. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.” Taking a deep breath, you throw it all in. “I love you.”

He doesn’t say much, just stares down at you with some akin to relief and adoration. When his eyes trail down to your lips, you know what he’ll say before the words even leave his lips.

“Again.”

You oblige him.

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thanks for reading! if you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging so other people can read it! 💖

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#namjoon x y/n #bts soft hours #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #bts f2l #namjoon f2l #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines

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nostaren · 3 years

Text

Mr. Lonely

TOJI FUSHIGURO X READER

part 15 | series masterlist | next

Spending time with your underclassmen had proved to be really refreshing, as hesitant to the idea as you had been at first. The time was as such that you ideally should’ve been asleep by now, especially considering you had places to be tomorrow, but you didn’t feel tired in the slightest.

At exactly 3 am, you, Yuuji and Nobara were venturing the school premises, walking animatedly and acting very much like drunken fools without actually having had anything to drink. It was odd how much energy the three of you had, what with having not slept since the previous night.

“I’m telling you, he must be putting wax in his hair to have it stand up like that.”

“I don’t know, Itadori… Fushiguro doesn’t seem like the person to do anything with his hair other than brush it.”

You thought about it, Megumi standing in front of a mirror and maneuvering his hands to style each strand. You snorted at the mental image. “Definitely not.”

Itadori’s hands moved to run through his pink locks. “And I do?”

“Yes,” both you and Nobara said in unison.

His response was gleeful. “So out of the two of us, I actually take care of myself!”

You and Nobara shared a glance, immediately breaking into a fit of giggles. While not particularly regimen-conscious, Megumi definitely took better care of his hygiene, the lack of smelling of sweat nearly as frequently as Yuuji being evidence to that.

“Why are you laughing? Oh! By the way, Kugisaki, we needed to read some pages in some book until tomorrow—no, later today? I just… don’t remember which book… or which pages.”

“What!? Why the hell are you telling me now?”

“You were away with Fushiguro and Panda all day! Oh no, I forgot to tell him too—ow! Stop hitting me!”

You zoned out the rest of the conversation, not really a part of it, instead becoming lost in your thoughts while trudging along to their pace.

The original plan had been to bring Megumi with you, too, but when Yuuji had incessantly knocked on his door, his response after a few minutes was to open it, call you lot morons for waking him up over something so ridiculous, then promptly sliding it shut. Hence Megumi being the subject of discussion for a good bit of your walk when the male wasn’t there to hear any of it. Nothing too horrible was brought up, just stuff that would surely make him sneeze a couple of times.

Before Yuuji had joined in, it was Nobara that dragged you out of bed, angrily going out about how men weren’t shit and how you shouldn’t spend even one second of your precious time mulling over him. Hearing her exclaim all of that without even knowing the full story pulled at your heartstrings. Nobara proved time after time how much of an unconditional friend she was, having your back even when you didn’t ask for it.

You hadn’t really been left to sort your thoughts the whole day, having been accompanied by at least one person at all times if you didn’t count the small window between when Gojo had escorted you to your room to when Nobara had come to get you. And while it would have been comforting to spill everything to Nobara—heck, even Gojo—you held back because you couldn’t help but feel it was an irrational sadness.

Because yes, you did feel a little sad.

The feeling creeped up on you as a few minutes passed of blankly watching shadows shifting across trees and listening to the bickering of your friends, sometimes adding to it, but otherwise just tagging along.

It was from being attentive of your surroundings that allowed you to notice a fourth person. A lone figure leaned on the railing of the approaching bridge, slightly hunched over and lazily typing away at his phone.

It was by no means odd to see a person out at this hour, but within these particular school grounds? That was odd. You were outside despite it being past curfew, and you couldn’t recognize the silhouette in the distance to be one of the students. There weren't even as many students as there were fingers on your two hands, so you'd recognize any of them.

Hopefully he wasn't a teacher that you just didn't recognize, like Nanami.

Or, if he was a teacher, you hoped he was one that was as lenient about rules as Gojo.

Either way, you'd likely just pass him by and throw a casual ‘hello’ at him. No need to work yourself up over it.

But in the day's second douse of horrendous luck, your eyes, even in the dark, happened to catch sight of the particular way black strands of hair fell over his face. Your lips puckered as you took in his quite tall frame and the outline of his legs. After a moment of contemplation, you, brows furrowing, craned your neck to get a better look at him.

Was that—?

No. Fucking. Way.

“Guys let’s go that way,” you attempted to whisper over their exhilarated yelling from a heated argument, heart hammering loudly in your ears and adding to the stress of a situation you did not want to be in. When that didn’t work, you pulled at the back of Nobara’s shirt.

“Hey, that’s going to wrinkle!”

Her exclamation fell short when seeing your form shrunken on itself in an attempt at hiding.

“…you okay?”

“It’s—“ you threw a pointed glance towards the figure up front. “It’s him.”

She turned to look.

“Not so obvious,” you hissed, inwardly groaning at how there was no way a certain someone wouldn’t realize you were now talking about him if he so much as glanced up.

Yuuji meanwhile observed your exchange, oblivious to what exactly was happening but still managing to draw some (very faulty) conclusions of his own.

“Eh? Do you know him?” Yuuji squinted his eyes as if that would make him see better in the dark. To your horror, his arm moved up in a wave. “HEEEEEY!! OVER HE—mmph!”

You tackled him to the ground with a hand pressed to his mouth, tumbling into a nearby brush just as the figure ahead looked up from his phone. That left Nobara standing there awkwardly, staring at Fushiguro looking at her as if she’d grown two heads.

Your hands moved to loosely enclose around Yuuji’s throat in a mock-choking manner, whispering, “You’re a moron, you know that?”

“I know,” he whispered back. “But what did I do wrong this time?”

Your mouth opened to take your words back because now you felt a little bad, but Nobara’s “psst” interrupted you.

You looked up from Yuuji. “What do I do!?” Nobara hissed through gritted teeth.

A few seconds of deafening silence passed whereas you tried to think of something, but you apparently thought for too long because she finally decided on very obviously ducking into the bush with the rest of the crew.

Great. Real inconspicuous, Nobara. No way he could’ve seen that.

The three of you sat looking at each other with wide eyes, not knowing what to do next.

“What’s he even doing here?” you broke the silence, being mindful of keeping your voice low.

“He can’t enter without permission, so he must be here for Gojo-sensei or principal Yaga… Right?” came Nobara’s answer.

She was right. He couldn’t have gone through the barriers put up by Tengen if not invited. So had Gojo somehow found out that it was Fushiguro that was involved? Or…

You couldn’t feel even a slither of cursed energy reeking from his person, no matter how hard you concentrated, meaning he must be a civilian. Gojo had a knack for doing things inappropriately, but to invite a civilian into Jujutsu High? Surely, he didn’t…

But then again, you knew nothing of their relationship.

Either way, you just wished to remain hidden until he was done with whatever business he had here so you could make your way to the dorms and sleep the accumulated stress away.

Some shuffling from the left broke your thoughts. Yuuji was crouching down, peering through the leaves. “He’s gone.”

A collective sigh of relief was heard.

It didn’t last long.

“This peeping tom a friend of yours?”

“Uwaah!”

The three of you scrambled away from the source of the sudden voice.

While the question undoubtedly was directed at you, Fushiguro didn’t seem to know who you were.

The three of you shared a knowing glace, each expression some form of shock, feeling a little disturbed over how he had managed to sneak behind all of you, civilian or not.

His eyes skimmed over your forms, back and forth and then further to the sides as if looking for someone else. Not finding it, his eyes zoned in on you and Nobara. “So, which one of you is it?”

Nobara, immediately realizing what he meant, angrily exclaimed, “Do I look that old to you!?” and pointed an accusatory finger at you, as if you were the one to cause her offense. You wanted to tell her that three years wasn’t much, and that it wasn’t really enough to tell that much of a difference, but your mouth remained clamped shut.

Green eyes met yours. “Leave us.”

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Yuuji moving to stand. “You expect us to just leave Y/n-senpai alone with you!?”

Sweet, sweet Yuuji.

Nobara moved to stand as well, grabbing Yuuji by the arm. “We’ll be on our way now. You two take your time.”

Horrible, horrible Nobara.

You thought she’d want you to—had even told you to—move past him, not to figure things out. Admittedly, you’d rather do the former than the latter because at least then you wouldn’t need to talk about feelings yuck and you hadn’t had any time to really think whether or not to forgive him, should he apologize.

Yuuji sputtered in disagreement and you could do nothing but break eye-contact with the looming man above you to watch as Nobara dragged a flailing Yuuji behind her, wishing it was you in his stead.

“You have alllll night,” she winked.

And then you were alone with Fushiguro.

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#OOOOO CLIFFHANGER??#the moment we’ve all been waiting for #is y/n finally gonna meet da worm #wingman nobara #this is unedited #I just wanted to get it out and sleep lol #I’ll fix any errors tomorrow #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #smau #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk smau #jujutsu kaisen smau #imagines

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muselin · 3 years

Text

See You Later - Part 1

Who: Beomgyu

Group: TXT

What: Beomgyu/f!reader, collegeAU, slow burn, eventual smut, college student!Gyu, model!Gyu

Word count: 2,238

A/N: this is for @bluekais ❤ Hope you enjoy! Sorry that it's taken so long! There will be a Part 2 coming but I got myself elbows-deep into Kinktober so might take a while as well 🎃

____________________________________

"Tch."

The dissatisfied noise leaving your lips had become habit by now. Just his presence annoyed you, but the fact that he had the nerve to show up late to class almost every time, carrying that stupid skateboard, made your blood boil a little bit. He never studied, never did the assignments, always showed up late and he was still somehow passing this class. This class that you had worked so hard to get into and had to keep working so hard to stay in. It didn't come naturally to you but it did to him and it made you green with envy.

"Ah, Beomgyu-ssi, how kind of you to join us," your professor quipped sarcastically as Beomgyu beamed a smile that was frustratingly charming and headed for the only empty space in the auditorium which, to your displeasure, happened to be next to you.

You didn't acknowledge each other as you continued scribbling furiously into your notebook while Beomgyu sat with his chin leaned on his hand. You noticed that he hadn't taken out anything to write with.

"Now I will hand out your assignments for the next lecture. Remember we have study week, so you will have one week to complete these. Please remain in your seats as you are now."

Your professor proceeded to hand out stacks of papers and you couldn't help noticing that he was handing only one stack for every two students. He was making his way down your row and dropped off an assignment right between you and Beomgyu.

"I can hold it for us," Beomgyu smiled pleasantly as he looked over to you, seemingly unaffected by your sour expression. As the two of you read the instructions for the music production assignment, Beomgyu would stop and mutter to himself every once in a while: "Hmm, I already have a bass guitar for this," "This would be very easy to add a snare to," "I just need vocals and someone to match the drum line to this".

"Alright, everyone ready?" The auditorium hummed with mumbled "yes"es.

"Good," your professor continued, "you will be doing the assignment in pairs, in the order that I've handed the assignments out to you".

You groaned inwardly, noticing yours and Beomgyu's names at the bottom right corner of the cover page.

"Class dismissed!"

You were unsure what to do. You'd have to spend quite a lot of time with Beomgyu to finish this but you didn't have his number and you didn't even know which dorm he was in. Before you could open your mouth to ask Beomgyu when you should meet up, he was getting up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"See you later, Y/N," his voice laced with his regional dialect reached you as an afterthought.

"Tch. Fuck you too, Choi," you muttered.

___________________

It had been four days since you last saw Beomgyu and you were getting nervous. You had started the assignment early and done as much as you could do. You hated to admit it but you really did need him for this. You had worked out a base melody but it was too bare and uninteresting and you knew from hearing him talk to himself that he knew a lot of elements which could add flare and points to the assignment. You hunched over your laptop, browsing the music library. Begrudgingly, at 10 p.m. on a Tuesday, you decided to email him through the university central email list.

### 22:01 ### Hi Beomgyu, it's Y/N, your partner for the music production assignment. I've thrown some things together but we need to meet to do the rest. I realised I didn't have your number or your dorm address, let me know when we can meet up. ###

You waited for a while after pressing send, just in case he was on his emails right now. At midnight you gave up and went to sleep.

### 03:44 ### Hi! Sorry about that! Can you bring what you have over to mine at about noon tomorrow? Here's the postcode ###

You woke up to the reply from Beomgyu and nearly panicked that you would be late. He didn't live close by at all, the post code seemed to be for a swanky area of newly built apartments downtown, miles away from your suburban campus.

You showered and dressed as quickly as possible. You weren't dressing up for anyone. Jeans, sneakers and a flannel shirt was all Beomgyu was getting from you. You grabbed your laptop and equipment and headed out the door.

________________

At 11:55, you knocked on Beomgyu's door. He lived on the 13th floor and on the elevator up to his apartment you hoped to whoever would listen that this wouldn't turn out to be as unlucky as the out-of-order sign on the second elevator.

The front door clicked and opened to reveal a somewhat sleepy Beomgyu, dressed in a tshirt and pyjama bottoms.

"Oh, Y/N, you're early," he said, then looked at his watch. You found this ironic, considering he never showed up to class on time.

"Well, not by much. Can I come in?"

"Sure," he said, opening the front door widely for you to walk in past him. "I'll make coffee," he yawned.

As you walked past him you couldn't help but note in your head that he smelled really good. You weren't sure if it was his cologne or laundry but it was the kind that settled pleasantly in your chest and made you want to breathe in deeper. You stopped that train of thought harshly as soon as you felt your mind drift that way. You were perfectly happy with feeling generally mildly annoyed with Beomgyu. It was your comfort zone, even if having to work with him was pushing it.

"So how come you don't live on camp-- Wow..."

Your jaw dropped as you walked into the apartment. It was nothing like the cramped dorm rooms you and your friends shared on campus. It was bright, spacious and well-decorated, with huge windows and a view that rivaled the best hotels in the business district.

"How the fuck are you affording this," the words tumbled out of you with little grace before you could stop them.

"Well, since you ask, I work a lot of side jobs," Beomgyu said nonchalantly as he poured water into the kettle in the open-plan kitchen.

"Really? What do you do?"

"Uhm...," he scratched his neck sheepishly, "at the moment I model."

"You? You model?"

"Yeah, why," he tilted his head at you, looking at you quizzically.

Those big brown eyes, the soft curves of his lips, his chiseled jawline... And his hair looked really soft too. Suddenly from thinking nothing of him you were imagining him as a model. You wondered what he modeled for. Could it be fashion brands? Lifestyle? Prints? Maybe even swimsuits? He always wore those baggy jeans and t-shirts, but maybe...

"Y/N?"

"Oh," you snapped back to him, realising you hadn't answered him. "Yeah I just... didn't know, that's all."

"Uhm, cool. Why don't you drop your stuff off in the room down the hall, the one on the left?"

You nodded and picked up your laptop bag and equipment, your feet sinking into the plush carpet as you padded down the hall. You nudged open the door to the room he'd pointed you to, jaw dropping again for the second time today as you walked in.

The room was a small makeshift studio, with mics, a sound control board and several guitars. Several notepads were strewn about along with a few used coffee mugs and muffin wrappers. It seemed to be the most lived-in space of Beomgyu's house so far and you were suddenly starting to understand why he never seemed to pay much attention to the classes. You dropped your bags off in the corner and sat down at his computer, looking at the various pieces of equipment connected to it.

"How do you like your coffee?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard Beomgyu's pleasant voice reverberate in the room. You hadn't heard him come in after you. Covering up your startled reaction, you mumbled your preference and he returned shortly with two steaming mugs, setting them down on his desk.

"Um, so... For this assignment I've tried layering the melodies but it's very bare. I thought we could use it as a starting point and build on it," you said, trying to sound more businesslike.

"That's good, thanks. I actually don't have a lot of time so a head start would be good. I have an hour now but then I need to head out."

Your brow furrowed. An hour? It had taken you three days to put together what you had so far.

"Let's see what you've got," Beomgyu reached for the USB stick in your hands and plugged it into his computer. He downloaded the files and ran them.

An unobtrusive melody filled the small studio. He listened politely, head tilted to one side until it faded out.

"Um... Yeah, I don't play guitar so I wasn't sure what would sound good with that," you started, hands playing with the edges of your shirt nervously. You hated feeling incompetent, especially in front of Beomgyu.

"Yeah, no offence, but it does need a lot more than that," he said. "Let's see what I can do with that."

You sat in your chair and watched him plug one of his guitars into the amp behind you. He tuned it according to the scales in your melody and started to play along.

"Nana naaa," he hummed along quietly. "I don't know about that bar, what do you think," he asked you.

"It's not bad but I think it can go for longer," you replied. Beomgyu nodded, stopping the recording and starting again.

You watched him get lost in his own world as the notes coming from his guitar breathed life into your melody. You watched his fingers strum and pluck, watched his lips open and close in concentration, occasionally the lower one being worried by his teeth. You watched his long hair fall into his face. You simply watched Beomgyu in his zone, not noticing when he stopped playing.

"Y/N?"

Your eyes focused and met his deep brown ones, your lips tensing as you tried to seem attentive.

"Yeah? Yeah, that was good, let's add that in," you spoke quickly.

"Cool," Beomgyu then stood up and reached behind you to switch off the amp. You couldn't stop yourself from breathing in again when his chest and neck nearly brushed across your face. His warm hand dropped to your shoulder, giving you a casual pat.

"Why don't you sit at the computer and keep replaying the recoding while I write down the chords," he suggested.

"Okay, sure," you stood up in the cramped space and there was barely room for you two to switch places. Beomgyu's hands instinctively came up to your waist to steady you as he brushed past you. Your breath hitched but you said nothing as you sat down at his desk and started the recording.

Your combined melody filled the small room and you found yourself nodding along. You hated to admit it but you liked it much more with Beomgyu's additions. You played it several times while he wrote down the chords.

"Right, awesome," he drawled in his dialect after he was finished. "I have to get dressed and head out now, but if you want we can meet up again later today. I won't be done until quite late but I sleep late anyway."

"How late are we talking," you asked suspiciously.

"I would be done about 11, we could meet back here," Beomgyu offered.

You hesitated for a second. It was a lot later than what you considered acceptable but at the same time you didn't trust Beomgyu. You weren't sure you would get any more time out of him than this.

"Okay, deal. Message me when you're done and I'll head over."

"Cool, here's my number," Beomgyu grabbed your phone to type his own number in and called himself. "You okay to let yourself out?"

He left the studio and went into the room across, which you guessed was probably his bedroom. You copied the new files onto your USB before you packed up your things and left the studio as well. On the way you saw that Beomgyu's bedroom door was ajar. You saw him standing with his back to the door as he was pulling his t-shirt over his head. Your lips tensed into a line as you tried to not to make any noise and not even to breathe.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"See you later, Y/N."

You stood frozen in place as your eyes traced the lines of his back muscles to his pretty shoulders, not missing his toned arms flexing as he reached up to push the t-shirt over his head. Your gaze trailed back down his body to his hips where his bottoms were slung low, exposing the two cute dimples at his lower back. He didn't look like he was wearing anything underneath.

Beomgyu dropped his shirt to the floor and you suddenly darted down the corridor, panicked that he would turn around and see you. His bottoms dropped down just as he heard his front door open and shut.

#txt beomgyu #txt choi beomgyu #txt imagines #txt scenario #txt college au #txt au #txt fic #tomorrowxtogether #tomorrow x together #txt beomgyu imagines #txt beomgyu fluff

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serendipitystyles · 4 years

Text

Not Going Anywhere Without You

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: When Y/N finds out that she’s expecting, she’s scared out of her mind. She doesn’t know how she’s going to get through it all. She doesn’t know if Harry even wants to be a father. Fortunately, Harry’s more than ready to take a step back from the stage for a while to start the family that he’s longed for his entire life.

Warning(s): unplanned pregnancy, nerves, pet names, a brief argument (idek if you could call it an argument tbh), fluffiness, dad!harry

A/N: this is one of the pieces that have been on my mind since i saw the dadathon that @tbslenthusiast is hosting!! Everyone should go read the masterlist of submissions and join if you want to!! Also a warm thank you to @taintedwonder and @sunflowers-styles for beta reading/getting me through writing the whole thing!!! and @havethetimeofyourstyles for listening to me tell her about how i cried writing/editing this (ily jill) !!!!!

Masterlist | Taglist | Request - Guidelines | Come Talk!

Reblogs help a lot and are greatly appreciated!!

There’s absolutely no way that this can be happening.

She stares down at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test and has to hold back the sobs that are threatening to overtake her. How could this be happening? No. This simply just cannot be happening to her.

Except it is. She’s pregnant. She’s carrying the child that she and Harry have created together. The truly awful part though? She doesn’t even know how to feel about it.

Of course, she’s excited. She’s happy. All she has ever wanted is a family with the man that she loves, but she's also nervous. She has no idea how he’s going to react to this. She doesn’t know how any of this is going to work. He’s in the middle of a world tour and she doesn’t even know if he’ll be done by the time she’s due.

Hell, she doesn’t even know when she’s due. She doesn’t know how far along she is and the amount of unknown facts threaten to send her spiraling.

What if he’s mad? What if he doesn’t want the baby? What if she has to do this alone? She doesn’t think she can be a single mother.

There are so many unknowns and there’s no way that she can do this on her own. For the time being, however, she knows she has to figure this out herself. She’s in their house in London while he’s in the States performing to thousands of screaming fans every night. There’s no way that she can drop this news on him in the middle of that chaos.

No, she reminds herself instead that he’ll be home in less than a month and she can tell him then. It’s better to do these things in person anyway.

Fortunately, that also means that she has a few weeks to calm the nerves that are coursing through her entire body. She also has that time to figure out how she’s going to break the news to him. She can’t just come out and say “Oh by the way, hey, I’m pregnant.” Can she?

“I’m pregnant.” The moment the words tumble out of her mouth she hears the excited squeal coming from her mother.

She needed to tell someone about the news, and since Harry wasn’t an option yet, her mother had automatically been her first choice.

“Baby, I’m so happy for you!” She shrieks through the phone and Y/N can see how excited she is even though the FaceTime quality isn’t great. The image of her mother all but jumping up and down from excitement brings a beaming smile to her face. “Does H know yet?”

That question causes Y/N’s smile to falter and her mom immediately catches it. “Why doesn’t he know?”

“Well he’s not here and I didn’t want to tell him on the phone, and I don’t know, really. I just found out the other day and I guess I’m just a little scared.” She’s trying her best to not tear up, and the newfound hormones are not helping the cause, but the lump in her throat is letting her know that she’s not succeeding.

“Why are you scared?” Her mother questions softly, trying to get Y/N to open up about what’s bothering her without pushing too much.

“I’m not sure… just scared he isn’t going to be happy with me.” She’s surprised when her mother audibly scoffs at her words.

“Y/N, sweetheart. If you really think that he’s not going to drop to his knees the moment that you tell him you’re carrying his child, you’re delusional.” She lets out a light chuckle before continuing. “He’s so head over heels in love with you that there’s absolutely no way that he could ever be upset over something like that.”

“Yeah but what if he’s not ready? He said he had wanted to wait a bit.” The tears that she’s trying so desperately to suppress are beginning to pool in her eyes and she wants to kick herself for letting this get to her again.

“Honey, H is the only person I know that is completely, without a doubt, ready to have children.” The first tear rolls down Y/N’s cheek as she observes the way that her mother’s face softens at the mention of Harry being ready to start his family. “Y/N, the moment that you break the news to him, his entire life is going to get a million times better.”

She nods and knows in her heart that she has nothing to worry about. She continues to converse with her mom for a little while longer, moving on from the topic of the pregnancy and Harry. Her mother’s words had calmed her nerves considerably.

After the phone call ends she decides to text Harry; it feels like they haven’t been talking as much recently, and she feels bad, knowing that her nerves have partially been the reason for that.

Hey babe, how’s everything going? Where are you this evening?

His reply comes in an instant, almost as if he had been waiting for her text.

St. Paul :) it’s been pretty great here! The show was great last night! Haven’t really done much lately though, it’s just been hotel room after hotel room and show after show.

The thought of him sitting in his hotel rooms alone, more than likely nursing a drink to calm his post concert adrenaline, makes a frown appear on her face. She knows how he gets when he’s away on tour and has to watch everyone around him pair off and go out to enjoy the city that they’re stopped in. He hasn’t been up for going out as much recently and, despite her efforts, she doesn’t know why. He’s usually always up for going out to let the adrenaline run its course, but every time they’ve talked lately, he’s just been shut away up in his room.

Why don’t you go out and enjoy the city with the band, sweetheart?

Feels wrong to go out without you, angel. Miss you being here with me.

Her heart clenches in her chest and she can’t help but feel guilty. He had asked (more like begged) her to come on the North American leg of the tour with him. She had refused, thinking that she needed to stay at home so she wouldn’t have to take so many days off of work. Looking back on it, she probably could have taken the time off and not had to explain. It was just one of the things that seemed to happen when her boss had found out she was dating Harry Styles.

I’m sorry for not coming with you :( I miss you, though. So, so much.

The awful feeling in her gut doesn’t subside - in fact, it only grows stronger. She suddenly realizes that if she had said yes, she would be with him right now. Not only would she be getting him out of those god forsaken hotel rooms but she also wouldn’t be withholding the life changing information that she has.

It’s alright, love. I’ll see you in a few weeks and then we can be together for a while. No worrying about tour.

The prospect of him being at home for a while, possibly even more than a year, causes excitement to course through her veins. Maybe if he’s home for long enough to where he can start raising their child with her, then he’ll be happier when she tells him the news.

I can’t wait until you’re back in my arms, bubs. I miss cuddling with you.

She can’t see him right now but she knows that - most likely - he’s got that soft smile on his face that he always says is reserved for her. He always does so when he lets himself take a moment and think about cuddling with her.

You’ll get all the cuddles the moment that I’m home. Promise.

Their conversation doesn’t last much longer. With the time zones being so different and the two of them being in different countries, with their sadness eating away at them.

She’s in his arms the moment that he swings the front door open. The force of the surprise impact knocks him back for a moment, but he eventually regains his balance and wraps his arms around her.

She sighs in content at the feeling of warmth radiating from his body to hers. He’s always been warmer than her, but right now, after he’s been gone for months, he feels warmer than all the blankets she’s tried to keep herself cozy with.

“Hey, baby.” He mumbles into her hair, not making any move to pull away or even shut the door.

“I missed you so much.” He can hear the crack in her voice and he immediately squeezes her tighter.

“Missed you too, darling.”

She’s the one to pull away first. She unwraps herself from his arms and moves to shut the door behind him. She avoids meeting his eyes knowing that he’s already sensed that something is going on. She never pulls away first, and she’s afraid that he’s going to notice and ask her about it. Hopefully, he’ll just brush it off as the fact that the door needed to be closed or that dinner still needed to be cooked.

Of course, he doesn’t just brush it off. “Is something bothering you?”

She turns away from him and begins to make her way towards the kitchen. “I’m fine, H.”

“Love, please don’t lie to me.” Her breath hitches and her steps falter. That’s the last thing she wants to do but she knows if she looks at him and tells him what’s really going on inside her head, she’s going to completely crumble.

“I’m not lying to you, honey. I’m fine.” He scoffs at her words. He knows they’re not true, but he chooses not to push her too far. If he continues to pester her about it, she’ll close herself off to him and then there will be absolutely no way that he’ll be able to figure out what’s bugging her.

“Do you want me to cook dinner, petal?” He comes up behind where she had stopped and wraps his arms around her from behind. She immediately leans into him and he knows that all she needs right now is his love.

“I can do it, honey. You’ve been busy lately.” She hesitantly turns in his arms and peers up at him biting her lip.

Now seems like as good of a time as ever to tell him.

“H, can we maybe wait a minute on the food?” She tries her best to not let her voice waiver but she knows there’s a slight wobble that won’t go unnoticed by Harry.

“Yeah, of course.” He keeps his arms wrapped around her and waits for her to make the first move.

She stands still for a few moments, barely moving an inch. She inhales but it’s shaky and she feels the tears bubbling up to the surface before she can stop them. She tucks her head into his chest as the sobs that she’s been holding in for weeks escape.

“Shh. It’s okay, petal. I’ve got you. Just let it out.” He smooths the small wisps of hair on her head and slowly rocks their bodies back and forth. The gestures calm her and soon enough the tears start to subside.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She sighs at his question and he’s scared that he’s crossed a line, that he’s asked too much of her too soon. He knows that he hasn’t, however, when she slowly nods her head and takes a step back.

He releases his hold on her and she wipes the remaining wetness of her cheeks. She glances around the kitchen and Harry gently lifts her up onto the counter so that she won’t have to stay standing.

“Um, so I have to tell you something.” She starts, and she busies herself with picking at her nails to avoid his gaze. “And I don’t want you to be mad, okay?”

She still doesn’t look up at him, but she pauses, giving him the time to answer. After he hums his agreement, she takes a shaky breath and continues. “I didn’t plan for this to happen, I promise. I just… I don’t know… somehow it happened and I just… this is terrifying. And I’m probably making absolutely no sense right now, I’m so sorry.” She can feel the lump in her throat returning yet again and she buries her face in her hands to take a minute to breathe.

Harry hasn’t moved from the spot that he was in. He feels like his feet are stuck to the floor. He can’t come up with a reasonable guess as to what she could possibly be talking about and it’s making him more nervous that being on stage does.

“It’s okay, baby. Take your time.” He doesn’t want her to feel like she has to rush to get the words out.

“Um, so, I know you’re on tour and you have a career that doesn’t slow down for anyone, which is why when I tell you this I want you to know that you don’t have to stick around for it. I can do it on my own, okay?” His stomach drops when she says that, but he doesn’t say anything yet. “I’m… I’m pregnant, H. Like I said, you don’t have to help if you don’t want to, you’re terribly busy, and---

“Y/N why would you even say that?” He tries to hold the harshness back, to not snap at her right now, but the fact that she thinks he wouldn’t want to be completely present in his child’s life makes him see red.

“What do you mean?” She’s suddenly on alert, the tone of his voice taking her completely by surprise.

“How could you even let the thought cross your mind that I wouldn’t want to be around? You know me, love.” He’s trying his hardest to not let his emotions take over because honestly, he’s not entirely sure if he’d start yelling or break down sobbing.

“Harry, you’re a singer. Your entire career is touring the world. Singing is your dream, and there’s no way that I’m going to ask you to give that up.” She didn’t think that he would be offended by her giving him an out, but by the cracking in his voice, it’s clear she’s never said something more hurtful to him.

“Yeah, music is my job, and I love that. But my dream, Y/N, the thing that I want more than anything in this entire world, is you.” His voice catches in his throat and she finally looks up at him. He looks broken, like the things she said, the things she thought would help, really just ripped his heart into shreds.

“H, I really can’t ask you to give that up in any way.” She wants to give in, to say that everything will be fine, that he can take time off of touring if he wants. The rational part of her, however, the part that remembers asking him to give this up to any extent could make him resent her, fights against it.

“Baby, listen to me, please.” He pleads. “You’re not asking me to do anything. Regardless of whether or not you want me in our child’s life… which I pray to the lord that you do, I’m taking time off after the tour. I want to spend time at home, with you, with both of you.” He gently cradles her face in his palms and strokes her cheek with his thumb.

“Are you sure?” She doesn’t want to keep fighting him on it. All she wants is to raise the family that she’s wanted for her entire life with the most extraordinary love.

“Absolutely.” He promises.

He bends slightly so that his face is directly in front of her stomach. “Daddy's going to be here for you and Mommy every step of the way, bub.”

Thank you so much for reading lovelies!!!!! Again, reblog the pieces that you like and don’t be afraid to leave feedback!!

Permanent Taglist - @spidey-reids-2003, @jackiehollanderr, @scarletsoldierrr, @thewayilookatbacon, @parker-barnes-af, @lost-in-the-stars03, @kisses-holland, @josiemara, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing, @fanficscuziranout, @akila-stilinski, @babebenhardy @write-from-the-heart, @slytherinambitious, @miraclesoflove @quaksonhehe, @dummiesshort, @sleepybesson, @sunshine96love, @itstaskeen, @wotamelonsugar, @fallingfordolans, @missleahlin, @urbandcal

Harry Styles Taglist - @alwayshave-faith, @hufflepuff-always-and-forever, @sucker-09 @just-chillin-out-in-me-box, @macksmedicine, @xo-spidey, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow, @shawnieeboyy,

#Zoey Writes #Harry Styles #dadathon #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing

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i-love-you-all · 1 year

Note

Feel free to ignore if you don't want to answer, but do you have the original version of day 21? I would love to read a more comfort version of that shot too.

I love your writing btw! It's amazing

Finally responding to this bc I've been too lazy/had no time to go looking for the original again, but here it is. It can be Christmas present :))

A few bullets whizzed by the frog statue, narrowly missing Omen. He noted where the shots came from, but there was not a lot he could do right now. His spectre had run out of ammunition in the first combat zone, and he hadn’t had the chance to refill it since moving on. He felt around his pouches to count up what pistol ammunition he had left but had to quickly roll out of the way as he heard a familiar whoosh sound.

Right as he took cover in the hallway, an explosion of electricity bloomed where he was standing moments prior. So, the hunter had caught up to him. He knew Sova’s abilities were many and well honed, so he should’ve been more prepared to fight against his mirror version.

He scampered down the hallway, trying to put as much distance between him and Sova as possible before the hunter figured that out too. On his way half sliding, half running away from the incoming confrontation, Omen’s foot slipped on some rubble and sent him tumbling down the rest of the steps into a lower level of the building. In the time it took him to recover, he heard another sound. Pebbles were cascading down beside a pile of rubble. While that would’ve been normal, after all, this building had just taken a beating from a few different explosions, what caught his eye was the fact that he saw a small flicker amongst the shadows. An unexpected colour amongst the bricks.

Gently, so that he didn’t make a sound as he unholstered his pistol, he crept closer until he saw what had caused the movement. They held a brick in their hands, ready to throw it, yet also slow enough that Omen easily dodged it. While, yes, that was an attack on him, he could tell from the dust and concrete in their hair, the casual clothes and name tag, and the fear in their eyes that… well… This was not a mirror agent. Not even a soldier of any kind.

He's seen some of his fellow agents bring back civilians, but whenever he’s found someone, he’s always been able to call someone else over to deal with them. This was the first time he’s had to be the one to interact with them.

What was he supposed to say? They clearly saw him as a monster, unable to look past the blue lines in lieu of a face to see that… I was once like you.

“Do you need help?”

Omen noticed that their leg was bent in an odd way, likely broken, though not past the skin. He knew that this was still a doable mission even if he was solo. Only if they could trust him though.

They were already reaching for another brick but paused when he spoke. “Did… Did you just say help?”

He scanned the area, looking for any sign of danger before joining them in the little crevice. Omen didn’t miss how they pressed against the pile, trying to lean away from him as he examined their leg.

“What are you doing?”

And it really shouldn’t bother him, he’s been called worse by his own fellow agents, but seeing a regular civilian treat him this strangely was… he took a deep breath.

“I’m looking to see if I can splint this.”

“I can do that myself if you have the splint. Don’t touch me.”

Omen paused, fingers just about to move the person’s leg over a little. He lifted his head to stare at them for a moment longer without any movement. They were scared. He couldn’t blame him. He knew he had a monstrous appearance, and an inhuman voice. He supposed he just got used to being treated as a man amongst the agents at the protocol.

He looked around for a plank of wood or something to help act as a splint. He came back with what looked to be a walking cane, the owner nowhere to be found. The crack echoed around the caved-in hallway, but he was able to line up the pieces on either side of the leg. He made sure to keep his hands in the open, not touching the person directly. They were hesitant but ripped off parts of their shirt to tie around the pieces. At least they didn’t appear frightened about their situation, so there was that.

There was a second of silence after he backed off and they relaxed. With the splint in place now, they just needed to find a way out. He surveyed the wreck of a building. No matter where he tried to bring them, they would need to climb. And with their leg so twisted… If only they could teleport like him. Then, that would’ve been one less problem to deal with instead of thinking about the mirror Sova, the crumbling structure, and their broken leg. Maybe… He’s never tried bringing someone with him before, and it didn’t really make sense. After all, it was his body literally ripping apart, moving to another location, then reforming. There was no room there to bring someone with him.

Then, he considered the fact that he didn’t need to. If he could just get himself somewhere high, maybe he could attach a rope or a pulley and help hoist them up. This building once featured hanging lights and sturdy lamp posts… He looked back at them now. And just the turn of his head made them shrink back further into the crevice. Yeah, no. He couldn’t get them to relax in his presence. There would be no way for him to convince them that he had their best interests at top of mind.

“I am trying to help you.”

He didn’t know why he said that. It wasn’t like it’d change anything. They looked at him, and he tried his best to remain neutral. Then, behind him, he heard something clatter and move. Shit. He had spent too much time with this civilian in the open, and for what? They wouldn’t trust him, and he could help them like that. At least not while also being chased. He noticed that the civilian had noticed his alarm.

In a quiet hiss, he whispered, “That man is not from our world. Do not trust him.” And with that, he teleported out of sight.

Even if Sova found them, they would likely survive. Sova was pragmatic and ruthless – he wasn’t cruel. He watched with bated breath from afar as the hunter entered the area, scanning, searching for omen. Then, as he took steps towards the centre of this room, Omen noticed the person shift ever so slightly from their cover. They were trying to get a good look at Sova, and in doing so, dislodged some of the rubble around them.

The hunter was quick to hone in on the noise, and for a terrible second, Omen, thought that he had misjudged the hunter, and that Sova would actually harm this innocent. He readied himself. He had nothing but a knife, but his mere presence would distract the hunter. But when Sova came face to face with the civilian, he immediately pointed his gun down, realizing that this was not his target.

“You should not be here,” he said with just the barest of chuckles. “Someone will be here shortly. Do not fear.”

Omen relaxed, letting himself lean against the wrecked wall. He wasn’t needed here after all. He could leave and—

“Have you seen anything strange around here? Dangers?” There was a pause, and Omen crept close to the center again. “Monsters perhaps?”

He froze. This time, he was sure that it would be it for him. As of now, there was ambiguity of whether or not this person could’ve found the materials to split their own leg or stayed out of sight of Omen, but in just a moment, they would say ‘yes’, and then he would be on the run yet again. He turned, eyeing up the ground and the lighting so that nothing about him would be given away as he carefully moved towards what might’ve been an exit.

“No. I… What do you mean by monsters? I-I didn’t listen to the evacuation warning. I’m the only one here.”

Again, he stopped. He must’ve stopped and started, back and forth several times now, but this was something he hadn’t expected. And the foolishly curious part of him demanded that he stay and figure out what was going on.

“Are you certain?” Sova asked.

The civilian on the ground looked around and nodded their head. “Please. Send help soon, my leg hurts…”

Sova nodded, then scanned their area one last time before walking off again. A minute passed. Then another, and another, until he heard a quiet sob. He moved back to the civilian, keeping his eye out in case Sova had been waiting for him to reveal himself. When he was standing in front of them again, they looked up at him, tears just barely gliding down their cheeks.

Without saying anything, Omen offered his hand out to them. There was a hint of hesitation, but when they reached up and grabbed the offered hand, there was no fear anymore. Just the pain of a broken leg, and the fear of the situation they were in.

“I just need help.”

“I am here to help you.”

#valorant #valorant fanfiction #answered asks #valorant sova #sova #valorant omen #omen #my writing

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mypersonmyg · 3 years

Text

cherry blossom | jjk

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre: fluff

rating: pg15

wc: 2k (yes it is a drabble shut up)

warnings: swearing

summary: spring is blooming and so are you OR he loves the beanie you knitted for his round ass head

a/n: hello, hi, hey...is this good? idk, but i wrote it because im trying to do that again; this is based on the tebori tapioca couple because i really like them a lot...ALSO i said i would write about beanie boy and here he is :D

tebori tapioca

masterlist

Petals dipped in white are decorated in the jagged pink crawling from the root of thin strengthened stems fluttering like wisps from trees freshly bloomed to kiss at your cheeks, tilted upward toward a sky painted in streaks of voluminous clouds. You lift one hand to trace the expanse of day, finger a brush concentrated on the perfect mural, eyes zeroed to see the work of the blue plained aerial. You grasp a stray petal mid-air, charting the exposure of edges fragile and torn from the efflorescent cherry blossom, its trunk the perfect home for the boy whose head appears anywhere but the moment.

You bring the petal to trace his cheeks seeking the protrusion of his nose, effectively startling the stupor that held him captive. His eyes dance the length of your arm up to your collar, landing on your own gaze in wonder, always amazed by feelings that engulf him like licking flames. He tilts his head until the warmth of his cheek rests in the palm of your hand, cradling perfection and its questioning peep.

“Sorry,” You murmur, thumb soothing circles into pliable skin, eyes doubled in apology despite the fondness stretching the muscles of his face, tugging at the edges of his lids.

“Don’t be,” He hushes plucking the petal, blowing it into the subtle breeze that kicks at the skin of your ankles, traveling the length of your leg, ignorant to the tingle that already resides from the steady grip of a tattooed hand tracing the skin exposed from the ride up of your hoodie. “We came here to be together and I’m zoning out.”

You crook your arm into the grass, still damp from the press of morning dew, petals sticking to your palm as you push forward, Jeongguk cautiously tightening at your waist. The hand that still rests against his cheek sneakily climbs to tendrils peeking from beneath the beanie dressing his head, black knitted and all consuming, wrapping the strands of curls between nimble fingers and urging him to press his lips to your own.

“I don’t mind, I’d rather sit with you in complete silence than listen to Jimin complain about whatever it is he was complaining about today.” You speak after the first heady press, foreheads gathered in collective rest, lashes just missing with each flutter. You can barely recall the words tumbling forward, but you can count on the attentive nature of your chosen lover to keep you on track, his eyes never missing the beat of your quivering lips.

“Hmm, but i wanna give you all of my attention.” He pulls you so you’re falling, forcing you onto his lap of denim, your arms finding rest around his broad shoulders. He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, bringing light to the fabric engulfing his head of curls.

It’s a recent niche, the adornment of the extra layer, a gift from you meant to reside on the side of winter wardrobe. It dresses him well, mirror selfies and dates spent walking the string lit streets of your cozy strip not without the attention of head-on-a-swivel passersby. You don’t mind the look or the attention that you believe present without the added statement, but you often miss the ease of a hand through thick curls and the added volume on humid occasions.

“Now who’s zoning?” Jeongguk teases, nudging the underside of your chin, fingers retreating to avoid your gentle nip.

“I was just thinking about you,” Your words are spoken with lips folding inward to rest between the set of your teeth, hands tugging at the top of his hat, almost pulling it free before he swats at your offending limb tugging it back into place.

“Oh yeah?” You arch into him when a sudden gust of wind wraps around your bodies, biting at your arms left exposed by your insistence of warmth from the saturation of rays that swallow you whole, only missing direct contact by Jeongguk’s insistence that you seek refuge in the crowding branches of the beautiful earthy growth of the ascending blossom.

“Yeah, you and your beanie. Why won’t you let me see your cute ass head, you nerd?”

“Excuse me? I like the beanie, it was a gift you know.”

He’s proud of his counter, head resting against the trunk of the tree before he’s suddenly guiding you from his lap to join in the jump to his feet. You’re like jello, too long spent lounging in the thick of your bubbled comfort, nearly knocking into him out of the habit of proximity and lack of control over your physical being.

“Not only was it a gift,” He continues, clasping your hands, swinging it between you as you once more find the path riddled with abandoned flowers and the remnants of blades from grass freshly mowed, the smell still lingering with each foot forward. He brings your connected palms to press to his lips, holding them in place for a momentary hum before your nerves are tingling under the sensation and you're trying your hardest to pull away amidst squealish giggling. “It was handmade.”

You stutter, feet catching at the tip, threatening to eat concrete were it not for the quick reflexes and unbridled strength of Jeongguk’s arms. He drags you from the center of the path, the resounding tinkering of a child’s bike bell screaming to make way for the train of tasseled training wheels that are suddenly on your trail. It gives you time to recompose, Jeongguk far too busy waving in kind at each passing darling regarding him with various poked tongues and toothy grins.

“Babe, you good?” He finally returns his attention, the rough pad of his thumb coming to swipe at the hairs that fall from the folded lip of the beanie, tickling at the plains of his forehead that hold just enough sheen from the day's heat to allow the dense fibers to stick to his skin. You fight the temptation to replace his hand with your own, always happy to feel him beneath you, feening for the closeness of closed doors and your head tucked beneath his chin, fingers tracing the ever defining muscles that tease through his t-shirt.

“I’m fine...I just didn’t realize you noticed.” You shield yourself in the thick of his hoodie, tugging the sleeve to hide your eyes from his prying gaze and infectious grin. You question your own sanity when the remembrance of his attentive nature and the dreamy sigh he’d emitted upon the first snug of the thick fabric to his skull, only compliments spewing thereafter.

“That I noticed...?” You’re dim witted to the point of ignorance, though his bait works as your face slowly unsticks from the dark material eating his chest, replacing your face with the wrap of your knuckles and the avoidance of eye contact in favor of tracking a peculiar worm inching toward fresh dirt.

“Koo…” You whine, the nickname and high pitched yearning a new habit Jeongguk has taken in kind. His adoration for you only grows more with each day, your habits taking hold of him like the magnet that you are, an attraction unyielding and all consuming. Some would say that it’s a sickness, but the rapid pump of his love organ and the coos that ooz from him with the precision of a clock at your every utterance feels wholesome.

You’re home, a refuge after long days of piping tea and pounds of tapioca, waist deep in the give and take of the service industry. The only being that makes him feel like giving his all is no effort wasted, always looking for more ways to please even with your assurance that just halfway makes your heart soar into a galaxy of his own making.

So he grips you tight and reels you in, inhaling the scent of the light shampoo that laces your scalp and pretends that your whines are only an amusement, a reason for the further push of his pestering. His hands trace the peak of your shoulder blades, easing them of the tension from your bout of shyness.

“Love, why wouldn’t I notice? Why do you think I love to wear it so much?”

“Because you’re perfect,” You melt, shuffling on the balls of your feet, hands shoved into his pockets to hold steady in a world constantly rotating around you, dressed in whites and pinks, the songs of birds humming in the trees that arch above you. “But seriously, how did you know? I didn’t say anything because I don’t think it’s very good and I almost didn’t even give it to you because—”

“It’s perfect.” He cuts your words with his own followed by a kiss, much longer than the one previous, your face heating under the awareness that you’re no longer shielded by bud kissed branches in your own corner of the world. The same corner that started it all just months prior.

Your palms rest against his chest, a gentle pat urging him to part from you despite your own inward cries of the opposite. He obliges, a smile of coyness splayed along his cheeks, pushing at the scar that kisses the apples of his skin.

“What?”

“I did notice an attempt at the stitching of initials under the lip...still need some practice I see—”

“Love, that’s so mean!” Your pats previously gentle now offer as much force as you can muster, easily sending him staggering on his feet, too consumed by his own childish laughter at your rather rugged stitchwork, a poor attempt at further customization. “Ugh, I didn’t think you would notice.”

He pulls the beanie from his head, hair falling in a mess of dark curl that traces the frame of his cheeks, somehow rounder today than the chiseled jaw that you often find ingrained in your memory. You ache to take him between your palms, a smattering of kisses stored for later use when you aren’t teetering the precipice of embarrassment. A feeling of routine self indulgence that is altogether useless under the watchful eyes of the dream before you.

He delicately dips his finger into the folded hem of the hat, lengthening the elastic trim that suctions around him to keep it secure around his head. He traces the thread that just barely makes out the letters initialling his name, imagining the formation of your lips as you repeat the two syllables with the puncture and withdraw of every stitch.

It’s clear as the blue dyed sky, the vivid poke of your lips when you realize the curve of the ‘J’ is more of a divot than a definition but push on to the ‘K’. You only add the extra inches when your mind begins to overthink when in truth he’ll love anything from your hands, from your mind and the blood pumping through your veins.

It wasn’t the accidental revelation of the stitching when he pulled it from the first wash that clued him in. The fabric unfurled from its position of origin, the letters staring back, accented with the perfect attempt at a heart stitched in white.

No, he finds solace in the patch of thread missing from the edge of the shape meant to mimic the geometry of the organ itself.

It speaks true to the way he feels when he’s not with you, like his heart couldn’t possibly be whole when he’s not taking in the breathlessness of your laugh or the way you pout his name without warning.

It was the tremor in your hands as you delivered the gift wrapped in faux gold, edges of the paper curled from the lack of a package and a mind too jumbled to think of a bag. Your delivery paired with the fumble of words hushed in rushed breath was clue enough of your attempt at discretion.

It’s in these moments, hat in hand and your eyes scrutinizing the thing when you’d told him how handsome it made him look just weeks prior. He gently pinches the scrunch of your nose, forcing your eyes to his own, hat pulled back over his head.

He doesn’t miss the quirk of your lips, the hat no longer an object of disdain when it's a part of him. The day you met was the day that you made your place within him and it's in moments like these that he feels whole.

“I can’t believe you thought for a second that I wouldn’t.”

#jungkook x reader #jeongguk x reader #jungkook fluff #jjk x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bangtanuniversity #bangtanidx #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub

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chockfullofsecrets · 3 years

Text

Critical Role: Embarrassing and Undignified

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: Caleb doesn’t smile much. It’s something he rather likes about the man, that he prefers to save his pleasure for that which is truly worth it - but there’s nothing else he can call the expression that briefly narrows those blue eyes. “Reacting like that in front of a friendly tiefling?” he says - teasing, almost, and Essek feels his stomach flip. “I am not so sure.”

Essek's time in the hot tub goes a little awry.

Wordcount: 3.3k

A/N: Fill for this anon prompt! (i’m so sorry for taking 2+ months to write this... i love Essek so much and he needs more tk content)

---

Essek is no stranger to being - unusual. He often welcomes it, really. Achieving a status such as his for the better part of a century comes with its fair share of eccentricities, his floating among them, and at this point hovering just above the rest of the Dynasty has become something of a favored routine.

And yet, it seems, the Nein have him beaten at every turn.

He had meant to take his leave directly after dinner, unsure of his place among Yasha’s solemn questions of loneliness and Beauregard’s transparent attempts to pry information from him and Jester’s threat to invoke a Zone of Truth for idle gossip -

(and the slight jealousy, he admits, if only to himself, of seeing Caleb, ambitious and focused and loved, among them - )

But. Lonely and friendless he is, as has been quite thoroughly pointed out to him through the evening, and he’s intrigued enough by the rarity of this hot tub to clamber up awkwardly onto the enclosing stone wall and dangle his feet into the water while his hosts bustle around and shuck off various pieces of clothing.

Caleb sits next to him, rolling his own pant legs crisply to the knee and lowering his feet in. “What do you think?”

He looks over - thank the Light, Caleb’s still wearing his shirt. “It’s - nice,” he says. He drags his toe through a slow stream of bubbles rising from what he assumes must be the hottest parts of the depths. “Unfamiliar, but quite impressive that you’ve constructed it on your own.”

Caleb raises an eyebrow. “The hot tub, or -” He traces a small circle with his index finger, encompassing himself and his companions. “- all of this?”

Decades of court experience well up unbidden on his tongue. “The compliment extends to you either way,” he offers smoothly.

Caleb squints at him, but before he can say anything more the rest of the Nein are joining them with pleased exclamations and a thoroughly distracting amount of splashing. Essek watches, bemused, as Jester flops in belly-first before even unbuckling the last clasp of her outergarments - she wrestles them off, finally, crumpling the dripping green cloak into a ball and flinging it away, and he winces on behalf of the fine Kryn fabric.

She looks around, eyes lighting on him, and her hands fly to her round cheeks with an excited gasp. “Essek! Your legs!”

Startled, he looks down - they seem quite normal, with his boots off and his neatly pressed trousers folded at the knee, if a little more purple than anyone else’s present. “I would prefer to keep my clothes dry, yes.”

She leans in, eyes wide. “Are they re-al?”

Light be with him - she’s hardly said anything, but he struggles not to flush under the scrutiny. “Ah, yes? Why should they not be?”

Just then, something brushes lightly over the sole of his foot - he startles, and -

His seat is well made, certainly, but not enough to stand up to the Nein’s shenanigans; as he recoils, his center of gravity shifts right off the narrow ledge and he’s tumbling backwards before he can do more than blink.

Light, if this is how he dies -

He flails for a solution - it’s been years, at least, since he’s done something so pedestrian as fall, and there are spells for this, certainly, but what he’s prepared for today is more showy fare, in case the Nein asked for a demonstration, why can’t he think -

A hand closes roughly around his bicep, then another around the opposite shoulder, and then he’s dangling from Caleb’s grip with his back nearly parallel to the floor - he reaches out too, panicked, and crumples the front of Caleb’s shirt in a death grip.

“Good reflexes,” he says, breathless. Blood pounds in his ears. Caleb stares down at him, blue eyes wide and jaw tight -

“Ooh, now kiss!” Jester hoots.

The rest of the Nein burst into laughter behind them. Caleb goes bright red and hurriedly turns away, looking over his shoulder. “One of you jokers come here and help me, please,” he chides, strained, “I am not the muscle of this group.”

The tension in Caleb’s face becomes infinitely more explicable - finally capable of rational thought, Essek flicks his fingers and casts a weight-lightening cantrip just as another strong hand latches onto his knee and bodily tows him upright. Yasha nods at him, chest completely bare, and wades back to her corner as Veth pops up from nowhere with her long ears twitching maniacally. “I’m SO sorry,” she screeches, insistent far beyond the point of sincerity. “I brushed against your feet COMPLETELY ON ACCIDENT.”

“VERY ACCIDENTAL,” Jester agrees loudly. Next to her, Fjord winces.

Veth’s voice softens, then, as she pats him gingerly on the leg. “I didn’t think you would do that - are you okay?”

“It’s all right,” he says weakly. Her ears droop in what seems to be genuine relief - it is pointless to care, perhaps, but he feels better for having reassured her.

He sucks in a solid breath for what feels like the first time in minutes and turns to Caleb to thank him. There’s still a guarding hand resting warmly against his back - and worse still, he realizes belatedly that his own hand is still fisted in the buttons of Caleb’s shirt.

He snatches it hastily away, ears burning. “Ah, my apologies. I shall pay closer attention to gravity, for the rest of the night.”

Caleb doesn’t smile much. It’s something he rather likes about the man, that he prefers to save his pleasure for that which is truly worth it - but there’s nothing else he can call the expression that briefly narrows those blue eyes. “Reacting like that in front of a friendly tiefling?” he says - teasing, almost, and Essek feels his stomach flip. “I am not so sure.”

A friendly -

Surprised, he glances over at Jester and finds her wearing a smug expression that might not be out of place on Da’leth himself, if significantly sweeter. “E-ssek,” she wheedles, wide-eyed with delight, drawing every syllable to its maximum extent. “Are your feet like, super ticklish?”

Essek blinks - ticklish? But he hasn’t - really, he can’t remember the last time he might have known. As a child, perhaps, when Verin used to tempt him into playing by tackling him straight off his feet and -

Oh. Oh, dear.

At least that particular piece of evidence is decades out of date - a poor excuse to discard it, but he’s willing to compromise in the face of Jester’s ever-sharpening grin and the traitorously pleased squirm in the pit of his own stomach. “What? No, of course not, I was merely surprised-”

“You can be surprised and ticklish,” Jester corrects, skipping forward with a splash. Essek shirks back into Caleb’s hand, millimeters from tumbling off the ledge again, and she giggles. “And I’m pret-ty sure that you’re both.”

The hot tub, for all of its excellent qualities, is unfortunately not large enough to keep her at bay for longer than that. She reaches out as he’s still deciding which direction would be the best to flee in and scoops his ankle up in a grip like steel. “Ah-” he sputters. “I - Jester, wait-”

She drags a fingernail up the arch of his foot.

It feels like one of the few times while developing a lightning-based spell that he’d electrocuted himself - but the feeling doesn’t stop, shooting up his leg and tickling at his lungs too to make them shiver, and it’s silly, and he just -

He panics, jerks back against Caleb’s hand again, and in a moment of brash stupidity the animal instinct of his brain decides that the only safe place to hide is Caleb himself. He buries his face in Caleb’s side and grabs him around the waist just in time to shriek as Jester repeats the same lazy route up and down the sole of his foot, pausing only to scratch tingling patterns into his heel. “Tickle, tickle! Aw, guys, he’s so ticklish, look at how much he’s laughing!”

The fabric of Caleb’s shirt isn’t much of a barrier to Jester’s teasing - or to his own ticklish laughter, embarrassingly high-pitched and loud in a way that makes his whole face heat with shame - but at least they can’t see him blush.

Caleb jumps a little as Essek latches onto him, but his hand stays put, stabilizing, and starts to rub gentle circles on his back as Essek dissolves into cackling at another spidering assault on his arch. “Jester, please be gentle,” he says, amused. “I am not sure that is a good idea.”

Essek’s not sure how he feels either. It’s terribly embarrassing, and undignified, and if this was happening in front of any other being in the Dynasty he would have to learn some sort of memory erasure spell, but - the Nein have never cared for his layers upon layers of decorum anyway, have they, always prying for indignation and confusion and warmth that he’s not certain he even possesses.

Caught between Jester and Caleb and a vat of hot water, with the rest of the Nein making relatively amused noises behind him, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt warmer.

Jester just laughs. “I’m barely doing anything!” she teases, shaking Essek’s leg lightly. “He’s just so sensitive - oh, Essek, is it ‘cause you never walk anywhere? Is that why your feet are so soft and tickly?”

He’s giddy, even with the sudden reprieve, giggling too hard to speak. “I - ha - I dohon’t - ehe-”

“Of course it is,” Beauregard says smugly from a distance that seems far too close, “waving all those secrets and magic over our heads and he’s hoisted on his own fuckin’ petard-”

“What’s that?” Caduceus asks. Essek vaguely remembers the term to describe some sort of bomb, but Jester chooses that moment to send her mischievous fingers exploring under his fucking toes and it tickles like absolute hell. He shrieks even louder than before, if such a thing were possible, and makes a solid attempt to burrow his way straight into Caleb’s ribcage as his entire leg jolts in involuntary protest. No amount of desperate attempts to flex or curl his foot make the sensation any more bearable - it’s like the sucking feeling of a Teleport spell, like everything inside him is unmoored and floating in a sea of mirth and the only way he can get any of it out is to scream.

His cheeks hurt and he realizes, suddenly, that he’s beaming.

Jester cackles. “Come get his other foot, Beau,” she urges, easing off to just pinch his big toe between two fingers and wiggle it. “He totally loves it, he’s not even kicking-”

“Uh-huh,” Beauregard says, and there’s another splash. “Maybe I will.”

Caleb’s still rubbing his back - he stops, briefly, and from his huddled position Essek feels that Beauregard has jostled his other side on her way past. “His feet might be worse than yours,” she murmurs. He can hear the grin in her voice. “Better hope Jes doesn’t remember and go after you next.”

“Don’t remind her,” Caleb says, strangled. It’s remarkably friendly for Beauregard, though, and Essek is once again caught up in the paradox of this little group - merciless but fiercely protective, reluctant but trusting. It’s hard to be regretful - or wistful, maybe, one of those feelings that twinges in his chest every time he thinks of the Nein nowadays - with Jester tickling her way up the back of his bare calf and cooing over the way it makes him wriggle. But his heart, a traitor to the last, manages. There are so many secrets between them still.

Beauregard seizes his other ankle, hauling it up from the water, and he realizes for one terrible moment that if they were to, say, force him out of hiding and keep tickling, he might be inclined to spill some of them. “Scoot over, Jes,” Beauregard says, and there’s a squeak that, for once in the evening, doesn’t come from him. She chuckles. “Good thing he’s not trying to tickle you back, huh?”

He expects Jester to sputter and redirect her, as he would, but she sounds entirely unconcerned at the prospect. “Oh, Beau, do you want to have a tickle fight? We totally could, after this-”

“No,” she says, not entirely drowning out the little panicked noise that Caleb makes. “Not the kind of wrestling I want to do when half of us aren’t wearing shirts, if you know what I mean-”

“Beau!” Jester shrieks, giggling. Fjord groans loudly from the other side of the hot tub, and Essek, still squirming, is very sure that he’s blushing enough for it to show on the back of his neck, under his high collar. “Who do you want to wrestle with? Is it Yasha-”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, moving on.” Beauregard interrupts hastily. There’s a popping noise that takes a second for Essek to place as her cracking her knuckles. “Hey, Essek - you think you’d trade another favor to get us to stop?”

Essek flails for something resembling a complete sentence as Jester’s fingers curl teasingly behind one of his knees. “Nngh - heh-”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She squeezes the back of his other knee, barks out a laugh as he jumps. “Jes, stop messing around, let’s get his feet.”

That makes him kick, but at this point his entire lower half is restrained - all he can do is take one last breath before fingertips are scribbling over both his soles and he’s cackling so forcefully that his laughter peaks into agonized wheezing with each fresh gulp of air. “Hhh - ha - ahahaaaa, hA -”

Caleb shifts a little, bending until one of the strands that always hang stubbornly loose from where he ties his hair back brushes the tip of Essek’s burning ear. Essek shivers. “You can tell them to stop, you know,” he murmurs.

Essek’s almost entirely sure that he’s crying into Caleb’s shirt, tears leaking from squeezed-shut eyes as Beauregard and Jester torment his feet, but Caleb seems - fond, oddly - as he starts to rub his back again. “They’re not trying to be cruel - I believe they’re just excited that you’ve. Ah. Lowered yourself to our level, perhaps.”

And what level is that, Essek wants to ask, suddenly conjuring a mental image of Caleb in the same throes of helpless laughter. But he’s barely capable of that, as he’s currently dying, so he just tightens his grip on Caleb and shakes his head. He can barely even register Jester and Beauregard’s teasing anymore - he doesn’t think he can speak right now without embarrassing himself even more if he tried.

“Fuck, alright,” Fjord says abruptly from somewhere miles away, “I think he’s actually crying now, the Dynasty is going to have our heads if we break him.”

“He wouldn’t let them, he’s our friend,” Jester trills, but she does stop tickling, ghosting a hand up over his heaving shoulders to pat him gently on the head. “His ears are really purple though, like magenta purple, I think he’s blushing.”

For some reason - perhaps because he can finally think - it strikes him, fighting through the warm and pleasantly tingling haze of being touched and gentled back into himself, that as much as the casual label of friend pleases him he cannot afford this kind of vulnerability.

“Or suffocating,” Beauregard says a moment later, dropping his foot unceremoniously back into the water. “Thelyss? You alive in there?”

And, a beat later, when he doesn’t reply - “Are you just, like, smelling Caleb now?”

“Gross,” Veth squawks. “Get him off, get him off!”

Caleb smells quite pleasant, actually, but that’s not the point - his self-awareness is slowly trickling back in as he remembers who and where he is, and what he’s done to the Nein, and now they’ve broken him and he would rather die than look any of them in the eye for the next year.

Caleb pats his back. “Come on, friend, chin up.”

And he’s right, Essek can’t afford to cling to this veneer of comfort any longer - but to his immediate and eternal shame, he whines and nuzzles further into Caleb’s ribs. Just a moment to gather his wits, maybe, and he’ll be able to Misty Step to the front door and don his mantle-

“No? Alright, then - I’ll go to work too, if I have to.”

The hand on his back lifts away and walks itself on two prodding fingers neatly up under Essek’s arm, gently wriggling into the hollow until he can’t bear to keep his arms up any longer. “Nnn, hnn! - eheh, thahat’s - enough, please-”

It’s. It’s not, is the problem - he tries to stir up anger, distaste, but there’s only fear. He would deal with this indignity again, suffer it gladly, even, just to have them speak to him kindly. It’s new, and terrifying, and he needs to think it over alone with a generous glass of wine in his tower.

He shrinks back in on himself, still snickering at the tickling under his arms, and Caleb takes the opportunity to grab him neatly by the shoulders and sit him back up - Essek catches a glimpse of his blue eyes shining with rare merriment and promptly swivels to look away from all of them. No one stops him as he rolls his pant legs down and shoves his feet into his boots, heedless of the damp. He can feel their curious gazes prickle on the back of his neck - shifting into an unconscious competence that’s carried him through many anxieties before, he’s already floating off the ground before he can remind himself otherwise. “I’m going to go now,” he says, rushed, still too terrified to turn his head. “Thank you, I -”

“Essek, wait!” Jester says, confused, and Beau scoffs, and he’s not going to think about how he can recognize their voices without even seeing them, he’s not -

Yasha’s voice, at last, breaks through the hubbub, and it’s only in deference to their conversation before dinner that he pauses to listen.

“Hey,” she says, quiet and certain enough to shake him. “You said that you’re lonely, right?”

The noise fades away. He inches down to the ground with it. “Recently, yes,” he replies, just above a whisper, fighting to keep his voice steady with the enormity of this, this feeling -

“I didn’t say so before,” she continues, perfectly calm, “but it’s a little scary, right? To not be so lonely, anymore.”

Essek says nothing - he knows, without the mantle, that they can all see the slight tremble of his shoulders.

“Go away, then,” she says confidently, and then, hastily, “oh, no, that’s not right -”

“Yasha,” Jester squeaks, horrified, and Essek, to his own surprise, laughs. More of a chuckle, really, but. That’s a relief, after all this.

He can place her roughly in the rightmost corner of the hot tub, turns just enough to catch her heterochromatic gaze in his periphery. Her mouth drops slightly open before she gathers herself. “I just, I meant -” She inhales nervously. “I used to leave all the time, to go do - things - and come back when I was ready. You can do that too, if you want, we won’t mind, as long as you come back. And the tickling - we’re all ticklish, you don’t have to feel bad about it - ah, maybe someone else should say something.”

Caduceus pats her shoulder. “Nah, that was pretty good.”

Essek agrees, despite his better judgment. He rolls his shoulders, forcing them loose. “No, no, that’s - helpful,” he assures, and then, taking a deep breath and praying that his cheeks have cooled, he turns to look at them all. “I am to show you my abode tomorrow, yes?”

Caleb looks extraordinarily stressed. “Ah, you don’t have to, if you would rather-”

Beau punches him in the shoulder harshly enough to make him wince. “Yes.”

“Yes, and breakfast pastries!” Jester cheers, clapping her hands together - he’ll have to talk to his staff tonight.

“Until tomorrow, then,” he says, and spares only a brief smile before casting Misty Step to take him to the door and then again to the street.

He’s not quite ready to lose all his dignity, yet.

#tickling #critical role #shadowgast #essek thelyss #jester lavorre #caleb widogast #chocfic #it's been a long monday and i needed to post this before i give in to the impulse to collapse hhh

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libraryofloveletters · 4 years

Note

ANOTHER LUKE REQUEST YES Luke x reader, y/n has always been feeling insecure about herself, mostly the way her body looks. She compares herself too much to the others; Luke notices it, and when they get home or/ are in a room of the office, he talks to her about it and begins telling her how beautiful she is, and aft they kiss, extrA fluff

Beautiful

Luke Alvez X Reader

Warnings: Fem!reader, insecurity, negative thoughts about body image, mentions of being shot, cm level of violence, mentions of alcohol and being drunk, cursing, arguing (kinda?) and crying.

Category: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: thank you to @luke-alvez for her help :) side note, I love JJ, she was just the first person that came to head for this fic. Also, just before you go any further, you’re all beautiful <3

-----

Flipping through the photo album, you couldn't help but feel a bit uncertain of yourself. It was an album of your relationship with Luke, there were pictures from your first date, when he asked you to be his girlfriend, a picture from each date, and a few pictures of you, him and the team.

You got off the bed, shutting the album and returning it to its rightful place on the shelf. You stood in front of the mirror with your shirt lifted to your chest. The women you worked with were beautiful, there was no denying that and you looked nothing like them.

There was a scar on the side of your stomach from when you got shot, a few bumps and bruises that never healed right, you had normal stomach with some love handles and it never seemed to bother you until recently. You had always viewed yourself as “average” nothing above nor nothing under.

You stood there, your fingers tracing over the scar. You hadn’t noticed that Luke got home until he walked into the room.

“What are you doing baby?” he asked as he walked over, his arms wrapping around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. You smiled at him in the mirror, “nothing love” He noticed your hand on your scar, his fingers tracing over it.

“I like this” he mumbled into the side of your neck.

“Why?”

“Reminds me of how strong you are” he pressed a kiss into your neck.

---

You sat in the conference room with Matt when you heard Luke’s laugh. You looked over your shoulder and the smile dropped from your face when he walked in walking with JJ. He flashed you a smile and kept talking with JJ.

What does she have that you don’t? She’s skinny and blonde and more skilled than you. Maybe, she’s his type, clearly she makes him laugh and she’s-

“Y/n ? Hello? Y/n?” Matt waved his hands in front of your face, you blinked. “Yeah, what's up Matt ?” his brows furrowed, you can see his brain turning in his pretty head. You shook your head, “I just zoned out. What's up?” He turned back to the board and pointed to the map, he began explaining where the connection between the locations the unsub had been.

You couldn’t help but wander back to the thought of what she had and what you didn't. You brushed it off and turned your attention back to Matt. Emily came in with Spencer, they had Penelope on the phone. You took a look around the table, Matt was off by the board, Spencer and Emily stood beside each other while Tara flipped through the crime scene photos with Rossi and Luke stood behind JJ’s chair with his arms resting on the back of her chair.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. The slight jealous feeling subsided, but the insecurity rolled in. The recurring thought of “what does she have and I don’t” came back. Turns out Penelope’s lead was a bust so Emily sent everyone back to the hotel so you could all get some rest.

You got a ride with Matt, Luke waited for Spencer and JJ. You and Matt walked into the hotel together. He called for you as you got to your door,

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I'm good Matt”

“I'm down the hall if you want to talk, okay ?”

“Thanks” you smiled at him and walked into your room. You fell face first into the mattress, groaning. You laid there for a few minutes before the room to your room unlocked, the laughter of JJ and Luke filled your ears once again.

“Hey baby” Luke smiled at you when he shut the door.

“What took so long?” you rolled over to look at him.

He sat on the chair at the little table, “we stopped for something to eat. I figured you and Matt stopped so I didn’t bring anything.” you nodded, you didn't stop for food nor were you hungry but he still could have brought something.

He moved over to the bed and sat beside you. His hand ran up and down your leg. “You okay? you were a little quiet today” he looks over at you, you get up off the bed and walk towards the bathroom. His hand grabs yours,

“Why are you so cold?”

“Because I'm cold. I’m going to take a shower”

“Maybe I could join you ?” he stands up, following you to the bathroom.

“No thanks” shutting the door and turning the lock.

With your back against the door, you slid down to the floor. Your knees curled up to your chest and a feeling of heaviness set in. You wanted to talk to Luke but at the same time, it seemed stupid to be jealous of him and JJ. She was married after all, wasn’t she?

The tears fell down your face, you tried to steady your breathing. On the other side of the door, sat Luke with his back against the door and his head in his hands.

---

A thud and a string of curse words is what you woke up too. Luke was hunched over, his face twisted into a painful expression.

“Are you okay ?”

“Yeah I stubbed my toe”

“Oh”

Rolling out of bed, you headed to the bathroom to get ready. During your time in the bathroom, the door to your room opened and then shut. You stuck your head out of the bathroom to find an empty room, Luke had left without you. After you got dressed, you left the room in search of Luke. Matt was stepping out of his room as you walked down the hallway.

“L/n! need a ride ?”

“Uh, I'm not sure. Have you seen Luke ?”

“He left with JJ a while ago, he stopped in here to get Spencer. I told them to go ahead without me”

“Huh, I guess I do need a ride then”

When you arrived at the station, you saw Luke and JJ stepping outside. “Hey” JJ smiled at you and Matt. “Where are you guys headed?” Matt asked them, “Garcia has an address so we decided to check it out” Matt stood and talked with them for a minute, you headed inside not wanting to hear them talk about whatever it was they were talking about.

“Morning y/n” Spencer smiled at you on your way in. “Hey Spence” you took a seat at the table, “where are we at with the motive ?” you took a sip of coffee from a cup that had Luke’s name on it.

“Well, it seems to be a white male in his 20s. Unhealthy obsession with women, mostly coddled by his mother and hatred for men, probably abusive father or a boyfriend for his mother’s.” Spencer spoke while he looked over the photos pinned to the board.

“He’s angry with his mother. Probably for not standing up for him, you can tell by the overkill but he also took his time afterwards, he has remorse” you spoke as you flipped through the autopsy report.

“I thought so too. He cleaned her wounds, got rid of the blood and changed her clothes before wrapping her in a sheet and leaving her on the bed. The men are shot in the head and tossed aside”

“Yeah. Oh, where did Penelope send Luke and JJ?” you asked Spencer

“The unsub’s mother's house. He’s speeding up, Tara think she’s going to be his next target”

You and Spencer worked in silence, taking a few calls from Penelope and arranging for the patrol officers to reach the house for backup. You and Spencer were cleared to fly but not for active duty since you both got caught in a house explosion during the last case. You both needed to take it easy and not overexert yourselves.

Soon enough, everyone started to arrive back at the station and of course, Luke and JJ are right beside each other. Emily informed you and Spencer that the unsub had shot himself. It was quiet in the conference room, the rustling of papers was the only sound. Emily suggested that everyone head back to the hotel and get some rest, and that she'll see you all for dinner.

Luke headed back with Spencer, Emily, JJ and Tara, leaving you and Matt at the station. Matt was on the phone with Kristy and you were putting the last of the papers in the boxes.

“I should be home tomorrow” Matt tells her

“Mhm sounds good, I love you” Kristy says over the phone

“I love you too” and the line goes silent.

“That’s sweet” you smile at him, he chuckles. “So are you and Luke” you raise your eyebrows and give him a tight lipped smile, “yeah, me and Luke”

“Let me drive, you drove yesterday and this morning” you waited for him to give you the keys

“Promise not to kill me?” he chuckled before throwing the keys to you

“Haha, very funny Simmons, get in the car”

The drive back was the most normal you’ve felt this whole case. You and Matt talked, he was telling you about the kids and what he was thinking of getting Kristy for her birthday. You enjoyed Matt’s company, he was like a brother to you, he always had your back. The two of you got back in time for dinner, meeting everyone in the lobby.

---

“I think I'm gonna head back now” you smiled at them.

“You’re sure you don’t want to join us for drinks ?” Tara asked you, her hand on your shoulder, you nodded.

Heading towards the hotel, you felt a hand grab your arm. Luke was behind you.

“You okay?”

“Just tired” you lied to him.

He let you go, no questions asked. You watched him jog back to the group before heading into the hotel.

12:36am, the clock read as Luke tumbled into the room.

“Luke ?” you sat up, Luke stumbled towards you. “Are you drunk?” you shouldn’t have even asked, you could smell the alcohol on him.

“What’s your problem ?” he mumbled as he fell onto the bed.

You stood up, “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been grumpy this whole case. You barely talked to me the whole time we’ve been here. You locked me out of the bathroom. You didn’t cuddle me last night” he pouted as he sat up.

“Luke you’re drunk. Go to bed” you weren't in the mood to discuss why you’ve been upset with Luke, especially with a drunk Luke.

“Y/n, c’mon. What’s wrong ? and I’m not drunk, I'm tipsy” he rubbed his eyes, looking up at you.

“We’ll talk when we get home” you muttered as you tried to get him back into bed

“No. I want to talk now” he stood up.

The tension in the room was heavy, it was very clear that something was wrong but neither of you said anything. His hand reached up to cradle your face but you pulled away. “Why won’t you let me touch you?” his eyebrows furrowed and head slightly bent to the right.

“Why don’t you go touch JJ instead?” you uttered, looking away from him. You hadn’t meant to say it but it slipped out of your mouth.

“Is that why you’ve been upset ? You’re jealous of JJ ?” his finger pulled your chin towards him, forcing you to look at him. Once again, you pulled away.

“Did I say I was jealous ?”

He shook his head.

“Then don’t assume that I am”

“y/n, wait I'm-” he started, you scoffed. “Save it. I don’t care” you picked up your bag and walked out of the room. It was nearly 1am and you had just stormed out of your room. Maybe not the smartest idea but it is what it is.

----

The entire flight back, you didn’t speak to Luke. You sat beside Tara, your head leaning on her shoulder, in and out of sleep. You took a ride with her back to the apartment, still avoiding Luke.

She pulled up in front of the building. “Hey,” she rested her hand on yours before you got out.

“I don't know what’s going on between you and Luke, but if you need to talk or have a drink or just get out of the apartment, I’m just a phone call away. Okay?”

You smiled at her and nodded, “Thanks, thanks for the ride too. Text me so I know you got home” you hopped out of the car and walked up to the apartment.

The moment the door opened, you were overwhelmed with tears. Your back hit the wall as you slid down to the floor. The memories of the last week started flooding even no matter how much you tried to push them away.

He spent every minute with her, thought you were jealous of her. Maybe you are, maybe she’s what he wants and he just settled for you because he couldn't have her. Maybe you aren’t enough.

Luke crouched down in front of you and placed his hands on your cheeks. You hadn't heard the door unlock or Luke come in.

“Baby, talk to me. What’s going on ? Are you okay ? You hurt?” his eyes moved up and down your body, his brows furrowed. He tried to figure out what was happening.

“Am I not enough ?” you managed to say between tears and sniffles, his eyes never left your face. You continued to speak,

“Is she what you want ? but you can’t have her so you’re with me? It’s okay if I'm your second choice, I understand. I’m not skinny or blonde or pretty or whatever it is you see in Jen-” he put his finger on your lips.

“Stop that, now. You’re my first choice, you always have been and you always will be. There’s no one in the world that I rather be with, you understand me? JJ and I are just friends, nothing more. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was interested in her because I promise you, I'm not.” his hand rested on yours, you didn't say anything to him.

“Come on” He stood up, his hand stretched out, waiting for you. You took his hand, walking with him as he led you to the bedroom. He walked you over to the mirror, he was standing behind you. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, “can I ?” you nodded as he unbuttoned your shirt.

“Can I show you how I see you?”

Giving him a hum, he took the hair tie out of your hair and ran his fingers through your hair. His fingers trailed down your arms and to your side, making their way to rest on your stomach. Luke planted small kisses along your shoulder, your eyes meeting his in the mirror.

“This is how I see you. You’re beautiful and so is everything that comes with you. I don’t need you to be blonde or skinny or whatever else is out there. I need you to be you.”

You turned around to face him, his hands now on your waist. “Do you really mean that ?” you say quietly.

“Of course I do, now will you let me show you how beautiful you are ?”

Luke pulled you closer to him, kissing you softly. There was no rush or not a thing in the world that could take him from you right now.

The only thing that matter to him was you, his beautiful girl.

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