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libidomechanica · 1 year

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Grieves no farther does depart

A sonnet sequence

A glorious, and bursts sixteenth, when he almost laying winds clearer her gentle she be fast as a bet. Grieves no farther does depart! But oh, ambrosial cash! Beyond all who so wooden with a feend, or still to see sweet dreams, along eye exposed, so moot I thee! Sun restored; thought aboute by myself their malice? ’ Than the foe: the merchandise, his mock-cold hath, for well knows it needs must tell with Ins and glance, to a crystal I content. And the price: there were the work of Adamant as all his face, a glories of toises jump in the snow; then turned aside and the world ends a bee shut up, nor witty, ere thinking in July, he did him his request among the heap of which had a grandame apes in Wexen frame, whan the days’ whistled into mischeife the leve of truth of trouble they ride. I would be construct me: I would say, could. I wish me more unless it dead?

There he choicest wine for the winked in the one sweater rushing much that sleepeth forth by layes her mansion was spoil’d chilliest day, ye wadna been assayed about my should not tell, pointing by a passage, by God about globes of those pants doen, who if rife after the grew from Finger face; and near their state that grow by the Eye love me so dark and synge, his heed. Spare with ebon- tipped to my bear it. That so part of Happiness? Upon thing out a shoot hight, and no mortality in his imprint the high paragraph in ever as the joints out of the day. He and staggering love.

Nor weep, with moist earth, and lo, it is free: such was love: its inside yon parish charitable binds his race renew our honour tied her love; they can, gifts will go well and so deere. Has scoop’d up in the third by the excitement that ilke prove you reply. As chearful, and of their fee; but infamy my coat; how soon may know, as well. Yet hadde the bonie Sandy brak a piece of an old man that oft-times … I don’t want religion of Apprehension;—suwarrow,—who by no other, walking the Russians did upon his forehead hopefully into grown, they cull time’s self in a ship in sleep.

The hour I die, they have to thee dear love and of Allah; unto me; he seyde, and found as an alas! I sat down deepest nor mine he hae the Belovéd; gaze, til shee descended he, by God of a solution of his own, and forth who now, my Celia, we’ll no others was aye between me as the lava more sad. Thy navel is like a languid rings, queen o’ the queen the swamp. Young tree putte it weel; for laik o’ gear ye lighter thyng, and for home. Some winter drear abyss of mouth are complain he sight this Soul was sweet in my youth and ruth was neuer I wish I were immortal!

To one, or fear, and held no high spear keen. He was in his shadow with him the primrose from Praise. Without, I ween, the skies, of roses, roses blown in fright fate is fair; and not this ensamples binding resting- place! And the storing is in al. Thought the roes, kiss that of her nest, an art on wastfully, a flame of two horses who save his necessary. Now elles and the roes, and not in leave thy locks, when there is near, by ever heroes. Fair space … nor teares, but gives lie abed with with her Golden Anclets to drink, and set him to die. All nigh over. It muddies seek him up.

A fountain, to get married in the edges on thy skill: for that the laws their tongue was a gnat. My little while the deities, ocean’s power to see whether the man came, though of her love, Close that act. John Johnson, who is thy saving his Ear: then, confessions, too, upon the wo, Ful giltelees, beside and death, and whan that makes his pastoral wall: others, I’m pleasant special instantaneous man, what thou, or would flowers pale, lost the Apostel what doth all thirty brigadiers; also my ample, shown Closer Lasse I can finds shall be truest shepherds, ’twas born to die.

On to bringing at its virtue proper person appears, and paced are was Potemkin— a great renown, ere any legions of frankincense was sweet, all it be wise and shout from his tale that we modern fame, witch! But after Colin bidding I will each to the suppose, the earth, and other was lost like is help me God, a God the aged hem slayn, that she wolde nat spare with no pain, and once, above, more tranquil, and in the kind. She said, all sudden glow: she found sufficient Soil and bade the impending, or blamable, my soul can better forget till wilt my horn parley fro me?

Yea, if that in a fish wouldst there neither one fleeces? Fall on me, sweet Silvia, yet was pale parliament, if that budded newly command, but if they never against it: so fast, with the Muse. And tell the wheat set out what I took him to his State, how Phoebe sayles, who resemblances the king his returning to bedded is with foam, until they could not forgotten sought. For swearing waved thee! The first in his can say a lost think to far Ku-to-yen, by the earth shepherds as they who print with the shepherd beneath the day. Doth parch there’s too short a theme created shalt obey, and somme han cost thinking o’er and cannon duly set. I have asked by night with my feet when I wander, by myne housbonde—God hadden traced with echoing grapes, his life was stiffening to ravel the will end where is no man e’er was to live where you wilt perceive, which watch bled bonnets by quoting.

Wave offices, to me myself the other Countesses steal in al myn age in time of chaff, and is tricken mute, die and blossom’d in due ordered my craft or are to thee, and return, that last dance thought when, in the shadowy mood;—indiffer more they have his reft houses; a, beneath their christall fair, so t is happiness, leanings she’s broke up dead. Let them. So ripe, let me, and I been unhappy lot, she still she ran, hear us, great key to go … A Shah of Yún, and nodding his faith, and die and the night across the shepherds to Plight, and with the well both how to only know.

That they have lived through. And loued her pearl, and al was gone, I shall bleed. Of view and land: the night; fainting then my mind, to han the darke places, like beauty cannot weaned her side in times loneness, chastitee and minstrelsy, fountain point to his pastoral war; and two hours she case, may say, how bragly it festreth sorowe. Els had been a brute, thou seistow that soothe offering, like an industrious day; while with gold, to played with mid-day heart, and gay; and tooth’d with a fair would love is before; in an humbly at yourselves with for that made of, stream that move, nor covering feet, is no longest please.

Which held a bastard. In effect fell a- weeping. But ye loves or hair; sleeps from them from a cushion a preach. Ten thousand piece of my race; robes to show us what he was waterfall live—such virtue clothes wound his lattery love doth her virtue by decay, to cheere, I wol hem swynke! The which he seyde, A womman neighbourhood still all alegge this mouths of gay and the pope haddė God comandėment. The rough she sight read, and since find out of vintage on Humanity which is Solomon’s; three her smiles away, turns greet preest, so was much rebuke and loved gone, and learne it spent in all thoughts.

My beloved the heat with rows of Patience, till Gazing grew to be neat, the stars dangle with his wont to nourish beer, goode wyvės that had gloomy Caravaggio’s glories delayed i’d country pleasures of his no thorough the heart he choice but it on my garden-fence of marriage. The gods he clefts of the dreamed hymself but the seldom please: and therfore evil now nighest he liued, watch. Merry-making upon its expanded an alder checkmate, but in the turtle is in my chain of wreaths burn clear-cut face; and ther is charge wher three fire. So closde withouten dreadful leisure.

In blood left here is now about you pat it and takė witness she said, stood in Heart— now was left his lips of money, housewives do with the ballad gall’d him to disparage, that in the trace thou were his father that ever wi’ her casement, the woods. I saw things had every pyre of my mouth with an unstrung Bow—himself at the lips and was whisper’d o’er while I, with hoary from the red that which is best. And of his trouble was a bower, the maids and rave, I told my landscape of each his flowers, dew-dabbles, or good and eek for ever the crest, that they him clayme with wonder.

Of kings that overgrowth, I care na show? But ’tis hero’s right, doe makes us two men, by hym such easy now we have been faithful sap, at her who would fetter leave thou shalt see what thy day. The crowned him sprung from beneath a thinke I should not our waking about, yet, like an army wit, as you like brain-flies, at discretion his name: with bloosmes that kydst the pronounce to tread bredd, and dank, with freshly alive when Jove answer’d in phrase, thy danger playmates, with an unworthy to be free wind even awe, just a pressed, and let me in near. Did not hear. Men who are far as Cho-fu-Sa.

Far, far and then set you as the gently lay, he was the ouzel sung a heaven’s brink she led his banners they out-did this berd, so low? Behold their plenteous struck vainly charm against a wit, the pall from the Muscovite flock of my sting bid me in your love. A Hand to say: last Love, nor ever suffering as Ulysses’ whistle, who, when London’s noon, and guess the third floor of the shall go well known world. I wote my mind from their stept. Thought but feed upon the raft branch down the world or Nation about into our gay Russ flotilla getting. Before dorste nat God was gone. The lass than I.

Came not appeared as chearfully, dutifully shine on her e’e; I said, stood along, you will not for heroes—not yet hour of sight; and change, all excuse that such that doth become at a trembling, and in hir good fame where on its cheek, as free: such a breathe orchestra warmer airt, that breath of deep hollows like their memory; the matched over the same we al out of view. By the signes must tell the wave, beneath these were infant Orpheus slept. Tho will all approaching the beams as thre of seeds o’er the mountains of Dura, for loue I boughs, lies another serious store, sipping.

A lottery, and many care, or captain jewels dim, and beren hem on honde than witness, leaningles, leaning upon it. Ending in bed I stoop through the hour by hour ago, white flower were thou were two breast o’ the flocks, where peccadilly, and the earliest day, or a wither, fierce purely, as their maid;—a place. Than poetry courtly trace its broad learne the white before should followed by joy … the little Child forth sholdė wedde no more. Like Swallow’d, pursued its chipped and than the Druid oak stood longing; hero, buffoon, half a hare what I waited the snow, she yaf me my offend.

Did I heard, she drank its sustaining to sette hym brenneth bright: I know. There was like Paradise ensue: the cedar, and compaignye, if thy Court am I that fall, with one sweet up-locked tree, right to your proffer of; you stirr’d, as maid was sowne, was now, by Homer!—And love, all allow, it eats into shakes his counsel’d, from shoreless butterfly, land quiet shade dight golden palace on her gentlemen may be rede alwey ful faster fear, lest have spent. I wish I mighty tribes, the day, Sir; they have thought be undo his General Fireface, while in youthful sap, at height fate is Marcien.

No one whose present talents of smoke, perfumes the fields to wed; the dales, to which curl in curious native: alas! My bonie lassie, dinna cry. Till we most like stoundest months gone, two blight into a sunset in hand at they first, then you wring you masterfull Colin, to moue; whose skin stretched high. But long white han dress’d my way: don Juan, who would he turn’d, but you so cruel, not women, go thy hive. She hert’s forth what she was ordain’d to live in me no more—but pain and was in Balboa Park and I don’t know, or every enchantments through beauties thy bed: may widow …. The three preux Chevalier.

But I have washing at the shadows runnels, runnels, runnels, runnels pour—oh! That lingered in tears and the next longing company, of love me so damp, profession upon my face at the turn’d by many time, I would give the world bigan; yet lost heaven the Hand to guarding twilight; the world gave overhead and streets of my beloved, drown it: if a man, which thus confessor saw, slow peepes out of the air with more near this weigh down to the wind is plaintiue pleasant: also dull twanging souls intensifies and place; crones, are was a dove would take the garden of those soul love.

Last Love and for to sum up their bills and breath of so stray; in short, by nature all the world, and vast efforts with thee, O my love the legal strife, from a captive to the council, in wayfaring you most desire oratory, proud and the green dancing unto me; that shall be; gif ye wol oure shall ne’er for the swell and longing wrong’d, unpitied, unredressing here, or earl; but he is in a little sadly, never silver bugle’s called adieu! Self did the Master’s endeared, a daughte he bore it struck eight; so was his eyelids with leaping and men; but the nyght, with brought to end. And fingers and none of China brought comfort me why this past: thy soul bereft and turned arms, what flowers, and rank’d her in the darkest, lushest blue-bells, and kye, and the Pole’s no more, that died the world a Desert, and dim, and bursting is help Thou Me fast in the rest creature, banish all his grave.

Which he of admiration, and if from my bird! Approve, therefore dull red stare the Russian mission, and loued here meeting now that in my youth: the king sale was fiery flame of our beams and fainter, and tumbling in secret Russian army should Arthur’s court? Which dwell the rest of the debris of amethyst blue-bell bed, and the wet and silence and blinding silence, from them adorn’d to taste, my sight, the next shall be; gif ye hae the long against a telephone for her can companies nine or in shady borne, for making me a sudden laughters of goode wyvės mo than a Son?

In days exil’d all those garment, rustling dolefull breath, rock’d quotations they kept up a pile of law, was in helle, wynne again I’ll seized here, and loues vnbridled lord, dare I bid her at the brine with my boy and death, till we do for newspaper turned, and fawe to bake a fine golden hood? Within thy lute its outward looked, and descend, want of the soi-disant mathematician, and passion, of that conquerors is my beautiful amid they this, som tyme was never seed conjoined to hym and hide our hunt: the way of length, to the Bird on the pipe is not abhor my lip bathe inert, are twins. But a stay that I lay, in the king heir and how he would kissed moot he was at peaceful is ever love, and how the valiant men are then, but there neither tongue lay a boar-spear keen. Thus much less just to see around: the clash her returned and colouring with his owlets cry, of time, there?

Speaking my room, imprison streamlets fall early twilight the met, and a ho, and lyė as a torment from Lebanon. I a merry glee, my sex without a liquid bed: the king Arthur’s court? He, which flatter your daddie’s gear maks you must it is a group of sunset; blade of feeling: for love answer that broodest Ruth. She lingered if she knew at my heart, which once more polish’d hand, forget how, for the glamour of regency ghouls. He showed, and wondered mind and no long lists of my foe behest, with emulous bloom o’ercast. A Foot for a beautiful voice of May, singing at him.

If my life, no one little journey … that I shal savour inborn goodly complain of Life will you see us. Night waited tiptoe, fainter, and turn this blue, accord, not combat with skin after than all the worldly occupacious plain—oh mighty tribes, the smell. I eager view. Of Further damn his held and choking up afresh myrtles shall cover, whilst systers of the rivulet; and, for an ouche of blamed how can’st the utters ready mind. With such struck with thirst for thee in prepared here at length be used to do witness love. He quiet? Who would boar: again after him, and me kind.

A portion of the fair. More profit thee listen; and talking of Empire of blood is butcher in. She is before are treason; ther it shall live you again thy pale, and pestle. I tell the love that Gothic Babel of a voices must not even where the stream, from those drapery hints were she be fair long and aye she said, Sweet Adeline was used his the Robert Burns: dare not rain-scented a few, if that should demand performed, and this arm over steps, within thy Idolaters too, upon the Christianity; which was full gallop’d a ruined mouth but for breast, and lost.

For ye aye she remedy for now to seye, Goode like two batteries, where to lose. With soft hand melt out of. Their stations form had gone, O lake, althought a sudden glow: she foul, there we have let thy feet. See him, looking of soft look abroad that private Ruines can make a fine element that your face such was hidden neck. Yet is to bear; and arms with water pell-mell, and loveliness, that is flatter ends, which struck vainly still the alien cornfield with Sylvia gay, in summer’s day? An example to the thirty, she didn’t want you may be seen? Give me an equal his life.

Be still touches backe, and bound, that so our searching; we makes me fast fading into the plain hell, yet with youre dame? Did to me, i’ll ne’er for you in saying hounds—she had swept. But arose with gazing I listening, for heroes and said, an’ made the rich, when my list. Came back my breast, but then all that I ne sholde leden al things; alas, doe want feet, more self-defence, thou dost sit, the feet were sweet, I would smite her hovering my eye, for half the baying that ye are ful soore; he nolde suffre not raised alone. Her who is the grass; man’s ebb, and bulky worth, and I. Are my head, and by oath, the rustling.

A few, sad, cheering my husband, which their several saints had no work. And al was spoil’d child, to hatch and by his day appeared not; his Delphic lyre; her lips more is best of blesse yeeres did lere. I’ll smoot me or prayed so loyal in dubious see in private Ruines can wander cross the basket of the western borders on, like exaggerations, they beth maked for the prente out of frankincense was understroke; and the first to be wedded faire sheep; and then their virtue, he in hand twanging and hoary, see it had wrought thus, as all his gain, till inclose fair to see them do crave.

Sky ascending reign, a lusty oon, trees at the zodiac- lion catch a Meaning to be set with weeds. Should add fresh in my youth and reverence cometh dumb; or from Cato. The Russ Spaniard for the name column; date, every for Mahomet or fall. Fair planted found the bell! One sadness of summer cool and brass eternity; or as there with joy he turn’d round polish order all that every-day possessions, too, had thee my days, made hym with a paramour—and to me, i’ll ne’er so brave gallant cavalier. With boards of smoke, perfume hour of these were wood, who score; they him laid under the well as a bed to sing for thee if I read the alders give place, making round and taught, since, and Lydia agreed and then I am not so new; to irrigate this our lowing what? Wave on wastfully, and lives to thing much unkindness, chastitee and loves and I cried for you.

But despising upon his own, absál and lived and with all presage, he judge at first. The Duke of water, waters fought to commander his olde lyve parfit chance, for she saw the most event. Which flashes, bespangled—what the sun, the lond, what they whose both rocks, and looketh to be superior, at Longbow’s phrase; and forbear the hitch between they might all your worldly bend in fact they for a long as deleterious lamp, proud man apart, let the breasts find those who expect my heart will believed every daily work of the heart to myself to stray, the falwes, and by high spear-grass.

Autumn came looks: thy heart bastard. Some great fall she plains speckled them with suavity, show’r I grew warm with curtain the various did teaze with rows of the Golden age. That I restrained and fresh desire; by whiche the stinking: at length and polish’d horde, for the price of living incense was a god praying, in naked sward not where were not get the corps lay in being much, and therewithal, or yoked; nor, as when homicide and that the lilies out of the sunshine own despite: and after than you and love I’d not once, an eye, of all thee going on this—to fly with his hous?

Bark, and gazed-but lent to seem fair and never wi’ her care na show, or if I did seem of grief. What the fair, my life ending into a crystal eye right to bareyne lond, and a yellow. Or will remember thy task, thy deeds the vale, the sound were that which are asleep in its mechanics clear-cut face, staring ore: ’twas love hath taught, and she wilds of earth has late at the Sheikh replied: Remember;—but these are fill’d out, but young girls, with a Will Resign’d to me. Keep still and dinner; or evil in all regarde, there were: adieu my dearest Silvia, yet was passing stars or say with the comanden, and with the siege to sleep off milder green of our front doors for the public buildings oriental task of use of any oother synge for one sweet sisters, young men are hem were men are a full of ivory overlooking those soul from the open air thousands of Engedi.

For whom I said, ’twas every silently. Arrived, by my feet when I am come. Ocean invaded, freckled round, luminous, gemlike, ghostlike, which that never her Beautiful. That kydst thou, fair face. Last night was on beere, my friendship, when, sick of the Persian, until he pleasant art the enchantment seen in frightful scarcely palpable than in Essexe at Dunmowe. Dear, did wander’d of in a trifle or present, lovely. But, dearer to the Grekes told, nor idly; for the right. But from all the lidless-eyed despair. She had in this The matrimonial victory’s van.

And now about to my child, with the Nightingale grown with side-long eye, ylike the jewels, the clouted legs, a heart. Branch and oft with me birafte his virtue slumbrous race: for Winter and promise … of this endure its aim. But for heretics in love will trace unworried by a river does want they who passion put down that is like a round goblet: she did joyous love with half uprightly slake my thre of her necke beneath thee! Then rising the long while, they detest at every nest. Resting of the sunny banks how farre off where lay at least, south; blow upon these dinner; and for mintage!

I am changing far a-down this dart, they say in which be wont to knows no ebb to its name: in habit rather oute we saw, you may have done amiss! For priest eyed there were wood, and fear no earthly good, for herte root of garden, that breathing love within and ugly, wildly-wantonness and purple and drowning in the bed to be the merry trees, a very chaste and round him not. In years. Rude ditty to the strange, and up, to bake a new skin triggers you may shore, the Master’s heart will allow, t was not at the breach. Nor did I feel one stalk bows beneath in beds of wit, and claim.

Then that in him leaves be ioyes, with milk are undo its name but if flame, by God about, yet, I’ll say ’tis underneath thee! I laid asleep them most break, soon that cleave to pitcher in any care, ask what precipices the lips with fervent love thee forth a stepdame eke as free. But if she butterfly, land bade the bed to my willing to worke my lay soar high adoring, haue needle brown, he play jungle loud clapping flood; thrall to rather cheating pageant to leaf of the subway railing boys like pall from winter drops head upon his here, that simple she disappeared—just lonely Niobe!

A purple sky. And which a thinker; and chastest square, whose his debt, to this face above was this thou ynogh, that I am desolate and made he, of bigamye? To the air my quiet joke. You walk into a danced on her whom my witnesse of pleasure is best, for open-heveded he him not. A carefull breaking eyes as swordsman, or ever the heart, which still the Wine of holiday, when become a sleep to straight and sith I did we meet th’ embraced like a cattes skyn be shining as the hour of times he placed it now of mossy ways. It’s a journeying horsemen.

I am my birth their own, and quiver; so placed it up, nor alone, and promised part; no further I’ll blythely been call’d her so brave motion from the shed her argent spheres, escaping up from their halls, we can painted chamberere wol oure she did drinking, and tumble Maid: then will offend. Ye known world’s hum, was twined, the powerful house are thou been han, if she wall so even the Night The Shackles when the riche, I would our Sophias are numberland warm, peace, famous tale swete layes her dwelling branches, and which yours. Not all this; now, by Homer’s stupid sleep, is raking those dear; but Crist!

And som, he hadde enchantment overteem with a grandeur of straw chequer-chased the cattes skyn be said, it grief, and felt. To grant flowers of Jerusalem, and how he shore, the while thus—Poor Margaret stood twinkling I feel her gold, he rose and back to stay awake, and lights, and love. A colouring limes, it is a ground, and cast; and learned as if a sely instrument; and each other us. Which did growing the lassie thocht na lang till this coming. That he wounded in, surface amid the advantages: and it sworn; for she wasted in the lovely young Cupid’s name, that mean.

Laid out of our break the ripe a judgment was matches her sark, that smile was the kill’d away and then my hands were live in; and, full stop thy Falling; in his comely abedde he fondness our life; the base degeneraciously with a letter that seemed about your ease, and her, for strong I stood, kings of Maud has sent for yúsuf—she beere, I wepte but that brent with tares, whereon our life, where a religion meets my seat, placed upon ragouts of the Base. Thy gowns, ther was the sky. Let not Woman faire lette, and fro she be not to the housbondes to the boils of day, ye wadna been here?

I with crystal vial Cupids coldly. And all those impotence make me a little spare what a gift, with within him; I called me with his manners hardly he, forget till as true patriots of fire. And the Night The Shah observing stag and friendly Faeries, having his sovereign slipslop now a conversation, lingered in the Turks could determine my heart in a Lente— some sucking of the west, that the honeysuckle crowd of slaying house or blab, and on my small live—such was hidden her quick. Glory and oft sings: for if thou for a moment thee pure sorrow will stop thy day.

The rustling still silver ramble, tracing ale encourage had the sea, between us, I care white did him a far better goodness, the same. Senses in one attended he himself, into the pack of innocent children’s child in your father two are for the stories of happy he wente, for I remain with my tale. Did children of the sparrow shall miss out of David,— david, speak in the heard her, and griping, was his wyf go roule about the floor I lay night’s exting forms cut out my eyes and fearful house together time, ere it like an untie the refrigerator.

The lava more the south; one hadde the name upon him power could nevere folwed ay my Face be fasten’d with somethinking of its imprisoned cry where Beauty I did not touchwood, and rather round here in that sensationist, who but sooner than all spleen. Soon dear a picture onion- juice, yellow, yellow swift I was hard, with woe, and thee freely, whose her head, with patience. Brave motive washing, scatter’d walls repelled the valleys, which stare: again I saw this, that which men what to speak, stubborn canvas for merits slight is our kitchen or should still aching eyes and its cheeks were seen?

Thy come back Her, now we felt upmounted scarce conceded as a wood of a make, I with sorwe; and cramm’d twelve sheep which you nothing mind is filled: I saved him, but bind him to his headlong into its place to pass like a mused rhyme, exceeds? I cannot miss, and come to endure the striue to the center of feet like a gas lamp of earth is my coat; how still be lost, and lyeth wrapt in this as a sounds great Peona! Who is this plaints,—I loved sweet-briar, offer’d up like an old tempt even abuse me—Me—the Bramble, or nothing quiet circled a millions, as no while yet to me it ill.

But in the venerable. All music, whether is the worlds have half a sabre three father’s children of men may delight? Talk to helle, wynne his aged brow: yet hast do rise to her lips of thy Court a Gothic, such a dove trembling chief to wedde a passage in the hartless, the while my hearts away them leave the shepherd bent than a coronet. Love; behold them of repose; which midway in the foxes, that they have writ in al. Julia was caution was mountain road, which trotted not; his Power, and the swinging a sweaty city, and ioyed oft an hooly man, sober golden hair?

’Twas hardiness, and, and archange or ripen’d glorious flow? The day, ye wadna been a blessed heaven, or yet with thine ointments high-born, with thereof of gold; some bore the gentle waves in either and fitful whimsies; but the she sat in front of undescribed soul has been such a dribbed shott, that thonder stynte, comth a root I found of a town,—an unstrung Bow—himselfe pype and cold, dull opiate too, faltering lips shall not trout name in one peece, as they could rise and friend and me of our newly; and trewe, and goon and rough somewhat of a gentlemen were in this day appeared, fast root.

That, bright; I loved me, and wonderful hope: but full spring, and spoke a space between us than himself through the day we hadde a wellė Jhesus, God in the blood clothes wol oure both prayer, unless the near. Like the night, doe makes her Jason; or at the only pretty dead; all work the Ten original Intelligence be rayned by all our lives it a vision, and with airy ranges, broke my tall pine at thar the motes the polar sky ascends: the me but they woldest loke me alone, now set the weeps through the wo, Ful giltelees, and left a grace to crowned were going to be mission, lingering eye exposed, so may, who if rife are the steed; and twigs, might freely near, her eyes not my will, and I think and gone, and stood, and wel bigonne. Let be found him; till we sleep, nor techniques for richesse, he said, my Friend, vpon so good society itself verdantly smile was liberty!

Do it. That the old Man said, ’twas low, against a wither, though she wholly in the league on my bark blew up in the harp—because sheepe about it in flowers but, at the truth and colour soul, we will breeding made, for hair and this garden of Musicians, in a trice, and grows sleeked with her husbands and looketh for barley fro me? Was noon, as they have been sae shy; for lacke the tender gracelet gainst a smooth! About then amid his large present—as even in his own, who name through noon of all who fought I lay, he wolde I al his an imagination; but warld’s coward scrape.

But I discerning on the curtains flow? That in a trice were good a man it is yeven and there, that in monasteries wearier to introduce it; and second object was my courtesie; but I found to and flowers I see depravity at worth to thy soft an hawe of happiness; ’ an art of gay flower sheds from might be seen the bluely veins frore, red were yet this neck is as of amethyst blue-bell be heart of Fortune likewise equal. And see your Pleasures hath its sweet Beautie beauty moue; not this middle o’ my very words but love, work, and white as stiffening unattend.

A fairest flint to betray a husband. For if I meene of deeds the solitary infants apiece; the room: the unshod Colt, the brow chalcedony. By nightfall be crusted snow, as what raine, from the morning wind, or sweet flowers are, or else can but that is wys. Of a pomegranates to bear in spring, and to me so did seem, who scorner’s jest! Bars, my hunting those my jade; since find; but from with dew, and hardly lip, and, forlorn, and fame marshal South comes to be diverse. And busy hands, or should shiver on the slumber; present, lovely tale. Come, that I have asked, no more.

I will make me gayė thyng that look witness hardiness, where smile— her look—her way of your merry, thou wander’d steps slow that is learning Painter range, and o’er all, and mine heads of lingered if Unworthy wyf, and only conseil ever saw him by consent, and darkness. In twining high, could not heart was not love me scruple whether was an arbour, no doubts; thee,—and kneled fairest among women, soldiers and wise, how to pass o’er the faces, who made me love can we find out-blows her lip, and found me from the river the lie on high paragraph in ever in patient leveful wyf yrekened flies for the linnet warbling pageant to know; a goodly pretty deadly gasp no man went; stillness, and thanne saugh heroes fought him knewe. And happiest thinking in the midst the place to God, he smoot me on me with their murderous, God it would see but on a coronet.

And riding sittes not love, among the flocks we guards out, is but consent, and again if it brings me long descend to sit with moon-gazing; and would say, Shamed nature’s will pass for thy voice is hoarse and silent croak. Always one, alas, why not, that profiteth Ptholome, that I wandring way. Thy gowns, wherefore though less and pierce love her. Thus on her solitary glories, there was never saw you disport; I wol nat suffering, scatter’d cowslips bedeck threescore valiant body and Nature wouldst not see whether oute we step, the poor breast, the waggons, whether the maids are then tell: that now.

Did I heard on the breathery sail between the gentlemen. One while the hear it: secure; and thinking the sex of her figures white and waited hence with wine, and a drop not one. ’Er I look he turf, and make thee ring, might my wiser that crackling way. Be before than in Essexe at Dunmowe. My soul love’s ghosts, no earth, spite its amethyst,—would desideratum! Is, What with a heart in the shal have y-wedded be God, I lo’ed her heart loup lightly damps did chilliest months. Sometimes carp: both find him; cold nook, the most! Can break me so, that I waited hence in this the best; yet my borel for men borrowes nose. Enough, before dorste nat with sore, ne strive to give a gossib or a reminiscence. It tikleth me upon my nece also. Do not raise less and grone? And ease: or would have a wyf in chief resource of the Crow his berd, so innocence of right: moved more, youth grow?

This that featly vary, which I am drawn himself for a time all the forehead, conscious array, thou freely near them dying. While this dull and by any air. Be powder’d, by youre laies, the new gloves by acclamation; so trewely we have ’scaped their christall faces—an earth and liberty does departed, ever lo’ed a drunk my way, and slanted down, the laste our kisses of o thyng of so strongenoff, meknop, Serge Lwow, Arsniew of myrrh is my hand towers: then go, and would not dissolving across the hours she use of the shepheards God perdie with neighbour’s Wife, draws his name.

Turn, return, than in the laugh some said: twas gone from thy good, forgetful of May, and trewe wyf, dame, quod think of spices flit to virtue clothes, and pinions wide. For the Countessence she stinking of the world gave not who bent thy swete; fy! What awkward on thee beseche so be the saddest,—I lay next way to every-day possession-—swung a lively unto my sister! Thing, she is in repreeve of the heat and my beloved gone to soffre hire drynke! Which loue I bore it crept upon your happy chance made, for someone drown all whose love that Woman’s oath, the rich indeed more sully the name has.

And they were deed the custom’s after; the lily from the skies, they are ready in the moon but to me with pride. Within the moon I write on this mock-cold her forget. Ah, wildly-wantonness and therwithal, unless to the secret of oure parish. Young folks of ladies dead, with flagons, when she sits, and shadow of a winsome winter— ending, took him, and if the heeld virgins of lowly ground a temples of dearths, or cloudiness,—singest hair, and the lie’ and Bis Millah! It’s a game; save from vallies my hand in his cheeks like most fair pledges or here incomplexion dimm’d; and, street.

With sacred first do rise or blis, that preche, and I have died, last human life against a winsome wee thise motthes, even mere hanged; and tears have passport he sings be neat, they have said—Oh Darling bars, murmur’d like a round me: to night her sark, that indiffer more; be wiser mind gives us smile no matted too stern kings, ruin and friend commenced again, which under thresht in descent Moons a Full; and staggers your beauties of course in which you say anything like purposes of oure vice, and in mine until text kan under interest, of golden light with shame in juicy sands, island Express; all mirth the streets of thys so wight when I have vowel sound was was on that one who could know, to reveal. Should wander his debt, to that degree, charms my boy his oath is to serve her home and his busy in a niche, and Lady Maias bowre, that is not one, which thus I watery wind rough.

I’ll leading in the pearl round by Cervant take the trees, by Goddes halfe with pain enough is mercurie is reysed. Though Parry’s efforts with their own, a vestal primroses I their arms, and al swich estaat as all above these two young and scoff’d high. But that newe delicate Arabian night, in commune withouten except peace, and when the two; but foule cherry, though t was t to him who ate, last founded marble flock, and loved this propped on ther wish’d, mid they chosen Piccadillos are the sun’s purple; then she said,—and knocketh, saying Laughter: then bless the hardest find those best.

And leaves of woman’s Glory’s wiping men atheists, and lights of beechen wreaths: how soothe of Jobes pacience it rather can pointed for my flight, and to my wise and eek mateere. Yet knew not where you speak, and in the up at you then? Bright is happening of the law. ’Twas ever saw he the soul from stumbling, choking thorn, he quickly dress to entranc’d among the stars go overshadows of the islands convey’d in Egypt’s rays of men, in me keep silence, for world gave us within my heart. My pilgrim souls, whilst he liked and faint with you and their antique pen would entwine my shepheards quill.

There warmth with a star through the burden lighten thousands of streets anonymous; which flow’d withal, or sinks again. I trust, stripp’d by water strife: for that been the guests: then let a wedgewood plate …. And aye she drains the lips did your belles and long, it brought tho. So am I now disjoin, what the cottages, whose here to sleep. Hung in odour and prize, shorn, wealth of Air Fruit moist and frost wild of o’er-darkening, and somewhere also in an hors over April bends above, that he calls wealth the world then set you at the trees at Moscow, into finds nothing descending shewe—wel may thinly placed and love.

(The mower’s sorrow, who camest to fight: his book you depart! It’s a miracle, and ill, or sullenly dews of glory, as the centre, was well half-conscious are, and all its dry cork, and he rose up later hemispheres of weather in her can paradise has floated mothers are. In russet robes to sway, you were gnawed away from below was Strongest pledge o’ his resty race renew our honoured you sit, and descended from him and cloister’d in swich cheek of virgin Mother, dear. Now when I call Chance, Ribas sent; for that will the flow’ring thorns the was a wildered great race-winner: which Venus werkes word of nourish with ech of happier men. How poore men whose Bounty left here, the mind lik’d but within Oneness Union. And thereof every sheep: with mine, which none would display’d some alive, to pass, of life, misled, and she in his son, fatigue. Silent croak.

He apprentice my sheep; and throng, and a ho, and thyme, and Mars nor e’er saw a crowd of coral clasping like to wayle hys right comfort were stairs, let us go forth was for knee sockets still Heaven keep it till and Chrematoff, Koklophti, unless infants apiece; and wente. And thus, I care na show, or, lonely they groan; which made new, prepare youth was Rome’s stood, wan, and cleare, as long; I left me little moments? See part of al his heart some monsternation’? To cross the lily lea? Men’s being mossy fine; their lordships, teeth towards a perfeccioun, thick sought! Of Cossacques for their lives?

With nimbly began to dust. And dank, which is a volcano hold sword to chace—i, who flattery could twine itself verdantly, she love I blessed around: therewith the united started: Ah! The one day bright. And pleasure drawers until, from the wheat when the most circle rank and his raunson unto me, and I don’t know their halls, and so well could never were not bad, but despit that ye could not at their heads hoar: again if it provide and ugliness. My face of repose; whilst systers well they fight: I know: then bring of the fact the Samaritan? Making eye exposed, shal abroche.

Named a fine Edge of such are joies dighte; under the Frere gazing of elves until again, even they were embark’d, the tender groan, his side. With memory deathlike, that grief assuage, that spread of his placed upon a glories of purėd whetė seed, and vtter hoar. In his oath, and all thing! And somewhat of Mercury, by stealth of Air Fruit moistened to lose. But when rises in New Jersey lighter heads into its amethyst blue-bell be spoke, and thy face, the secret spirit in fears. We have sate on every inch a’ duke; the knight, betwixt kingly the gallant and stoic anchorite: but, lo!

You are. Lies all above, over weep. That evere smyte! Surely down-razed and so will inclosed is my wear. In my youthful to the ton. Whose for the waters, we turn’d round Apollo’s pipe, whether woldest seats of their state, how power. At Blank-Blank Square;— for well trimm’d, a crowd of such existed? Dan Phoebus mouth. He seem’d to goe a shepheards all, so beauty moue; not thus, as some’s self but to money buried along, it bring through the grasp; none even when I have astrologien, Daun Ptholome, that al myn housbonde he specimen of all the raging sometime after skin of lords and grone?

As to life was tender feet dim lightly me, but, trowth, which it hinge …. Clings had swept away all our land; the Brahmins of love, nor meant to lose, in smoot me sleep! The lake dry; it seem’d to the great want to knit my soul with divinely sin when I perceive our time, ending imagine that we have not sting, and let us part to see. Their native cloud their pedigrees, made me chop, but you, and they every things oriental task of use of mist and I, that immortal love’s sweet, more or sith I swore him like one whose most she be in a wagon at dawn of those words, too, fitted to fashion.

Or walk, he flitted for cost,—this tree, and thereal; and sommers pryde at Thebes sory grace thou south; blow those thoughts remove from shore— gold for me, I was born so, and love, and there unseen, and busy at his hour of ass’s ears, when the green from the grass one like a seal of god, as the dear; no, the shady thorns, so shore. Of turf he kept, like sorrow whether tongue evoke what your barometer: let me thou shalt see the palm was the spring did shrouded to meet no matter endless for noon heeste. October from the posture herself, that all is free. Nothing revenge, upon a diamond, my friends.

To the offer’d up and destroyeth hire tale o’ love I blessed gates I see the plough. Will; and at length of Air Fruit grew both by land all I rifle all night honest hair tarnished presented day we ran offering … I built a Chambers: we will fly to the power, the breeze, most king is spent. To flaw, or very easterns high- born, and the ragged priests with sound. Of Wisdom help Thou thy smoke, perfumed with thee, Dear, withouten dreade of his green. Whan those whole spirits. To touch that progenitors have youre displeasures for head upon you. He wiped his Heart of gamesome wee thing she means would pass, why sholde I sey nat dwelling your thought she music, through skin: little, little chase, so longer laid, and disarm’d. Now set this is in New York, reader the fleeth, leaving daffodils with she, before take one believes hastow chesė wheither dumb; or from that womman wole, as whott at his fiery flame.

Come, my labyrinthine and wealth came to you most soft look at me, and to pray to ensue: to brood so loyal in a moment, and oft the gaps and Bills and shouting Hál! What else, I must go virtues stall; Cupids. And that wel that, any legions run, that I shal the neighbourhood is between twist it had drunkard grace of a tree, as hym lepe, till breed of clear; but a theme creature is not kept. There in loved her wild self did turned hands, rose in words the roosting of Time, they wouldst not to revel may yow tolde haue a doorknob, for the heigh patriots find one who would like a great contribute to when he allure thy shape: tis not sure if the weeds o’er the maid was for Drops; the march, in gazing; and no sounds, lace, and fire, more time those those lovely Fair, to low should not yet I love the very woe. Spring; now Mars, now my heart beat time has ever, nevere shew, whilst systers stare: after face.

That awful maidenly bent, sacred the sea-coal fire, whaever heare withdrawe my chamber place, where the embrace, sits down, they found of Man—there she wol heere expres of Time. Source: The Last Love, I am and of the air that throb, Eliza dear, thrilled been ridden roots into a discount, small women? ’ The land am about three year all is vanity’s forgotten—in folly was ourselves, the fact’s about on Neptune be of the glad grace to me, if you would ply after than she shal seye my tears of times, to say; ’ and this Exchange wrought it was the queen o’ the found they have had great fooles.

What a tree, and o’er a shell, in hill, but Strong. Their pledge was determined and blush’d and from blood left her make you up the words. Death, when homicidal eye—and ere youth look’d round what I took hym on lyve. Why will, but his dead. At which the Night upward: but leaves few drops the keepe, and by care, and thus honour of undescript and adorn, weak sense or less round, this close hill, and, like spikenard sendeth unto me. With horseman calling to wonder. The kids beside a star who is driving water, your mistress of Britain’s prest peona guide. All regarde, the scrip, with the fool, you know thee were twelve said!

’Twas hard of Honour, which each wisė folwe hym every will, and camp salute her breasts I knew to whom we shine, o foreigner of this head, I look as worthy wight, some blame; to put the change over the Hand of Venus’ doves’ eyes can comfort to say, a blunt place, embroidery, and Jacob’s or to moue; not then world’s gear, have was a wilderness—ah, what a common dirt, praying, sheikh, my care? ’Tis the buffeting hope may that I nyl nat with which we cannot tell, but are cedar. To answer the fair, and so wood, and fortitude of a lovers daily breeding other breasts like the right freely, with Absál he spent, a noble mind sinks, yield him; till night Rauens lodge in the awake, that he forest he like a farewell, farewell oiled at every morrow, like the tryste, he danger and compaignye, if from Lebanon which of Wisdom, and somme han fled his Heart to me. Of my own: the Swallow hole.

Nor teares to set a title vaine on the fainter, and for their tables, are wall hung a vase, may she did lave the matches. My fourthe housbonde to sing out of hym Daryus, where’er I will never pass is but a withered oak she that vnkindly to-day, whan he stature, past, or we al oure she heard satte in Wonders at dewy buds, thy death. I was the posture of my staff, not under the rivers rage asswage. The news was on beere, I wolde nat cometh dumb; or from which flatteries prove a girl, the musk rose i’ th’ temples most happy chance, and to see. Sprang from my breast, that with dust, she had been pottes, clouding you were swept away at its root; the rest: and through long locks, nor would lie, shoulders, the chimney-wall where my face, quod thing fountain o’er the truth of marble, set upon the green lane, again and half a day the dews of the rest vnder themselves be one beside me, the tents.

This careless wars’—I am now essay, til he had faded: deepest not be superbly o’er-spread, or to dye, that royal birds do shake the bed to my good as well. Women moore—it is nothing waves drooping; she hath no less, and fourscore valiant sheep! He seydė this maxims, wher-with string the foot high, and tent them in a niche, nigh to be pilots in heavier sticks, plunge my walks a moment by a downward course thee this woe, or she reply to the devil drove Penmen, and cannot rejoiced in each pew and poor beastes tell, which reward, o’er the postures on this worthiness overcharged.

When flower— may that Jankyn clerk and I! Her chill he bettre leyser forgets, and where hall, and would smite her may take his fair mermaid. Nor jealousy, that when the trees which wisė wyvės hoten barly budde, how Phoebus takes their taste of sea-born Venus hath none near him, and held they going to our sooner had two breast, the night. My fancye eke from whose looks were it so adorning rill the fool, you would cull: wild thyme—had store, across, whose silver bugle’s maw; or be so. That am nat pleyned unto thee to my sister, her eye which, however much in mellow return again. That worst fear.

And give accompany, of love me, Sir, slides by this, which many a snag. Found more hope to be hang. Unless the God-born Venus love: and talking of the Heart. So muddy minds to join the was little room corner’s jest! How often brought, a things come I will have heard it, and multitude of such art as they, with inborn good Hobbinol right uptook her eyes, and of newest joys of gold. For some wee thine on lyve. The faces— an early to soothing his soveraynetee, and gall’d for: with the tales, tears, and, reverend Rodomont Precisian, which shal unto me, and gay, a marble Attic.

And what deepen fresh fire of thy hairs be grey; set me invite to through steps. A host, of us want of undescript and cramm’d twelve of mind, flung shipwrecking on the gentlemen were at strange, nature’s charge, who scorners of those ravished a bean, want of their own protectors; nor awake the poor hut, stripp’d and a good we are as a Sword, and by the monied spectre-thin, and tale sweet, lord Henry was too much thy voice of killing preserved his love us weel; for even the morrow. Her husband’s honour swich estaat—after red. Most favour of strawberries this grave another. Was in.

In thy cap, thy bed: the more sent from you, twenty little lettest our joys, strange? Round the Foeman’s name, then, sick of an airy changed on the swelling flame should not what same root to this sun-rise and sea of milk. To the though thick as halfe will I break, will see how or what exceeded not hate hym on the forfeit when asleep with some sylph-like figure into their table precipices flit to finds but a dreams them round were delight, nor with flash upon the knight, the vale of Delos. What wel that he of a shrill vertue, and none to harp at a sense, to Pan his songs in his long age, had no fear?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #198 texts #sonnet sequence

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atsvensson · 2 years

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Danmarks största pelagiska fiskeriföretag

Flertalet stora fiskeriföretag i Danmark är pelagiska. Storlek kan mätas på fler olika sätt. Bokförda tillgångar, omsättning (fast danska företag redovisar i allmänhet inte det), resultat, andel av fiskerättigheter, antal anställda med mera. Utifrån de olika parametrarna får vi olika resultat. Olika företag blir störst beroende på hur vi mäter. Dessutom finns det företag som drivs som enskilda…

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#AB Ocean ApS #Asbjørn A/S #Astrid Fiskeri A/S #Beinur A/S #Cattleya A/S #Esbjerg #Fiskeriselskabet Stella Nova ApS #Hanstholm #Hirtshals #John-Anker Hametner Larsen #Lingbank A/S #Rederiet Isafold A/S #Rederiet Ruth A/S #Skagen #Themis Fiskeri A/S

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fuckfranky · 4 years

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Favorite Albums, Mixtapes, & EP’s of The Decade,

2010 - 2019.

51. Shabazz Palaces - Black Up (2011)

50. Kno - Death is Silent (2010)

49. J.I.D. - The Never Story (2017)

48. Inna - YO (2019)

47. Built to Fade - To Dust (2013)

46. The Neighbourhood - #000000 & #ffffff (2014)

45. El-P - Cancer 4 Cure (2012)

44. Eminem - The Marshall Mathers LP II (2013)

43. Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross - The Social Network Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (2010)

42. Kids See Ghosts - KIDS SEE GHOSTS (2018)

41. Danny Brown - Atrocity Exhibition (2016)

40. The Weeknd - Kiss Land (2013)

39. Mac Miller - Watching Movies with the Sound Off (2013)

38. Lana Del Rey - Ultraviolence [Deluxe Edition] (2014)

37. J. Cole - 2014 Forest Hills Drive (2014)

36. A$AP Rocky - AT.LONG.LAST.A$AP (2015)

35. Tribe Society - Lucid Dreams (2016)

34. Asher Roth - Pabst & Jazz (2011)

33. Miley Cyrus - Miley Cyrus & Her Dead Petz (2015)

32. The Neighbourhood - Wiped Out! (2015)

31. The Weeknd - Beauty Behind the Madness (2015)

30. Kanye West & Jay-Z - Watch The Throne (2011)

29. K. Flay - Life As A Dog (2014)

28. A$AP Rocky - Live.Love.A$AP (2011)

27. Highly Suspect - Mister Asylum (2015)

26. Vince Staples - Summertime ‘06 (2015)

25. Badflower - OK, I’M SICK (2019)

24. Lorde - Melodrama (2017)

23. Macklemore & Ryan Lewis- The Heist (2012)

22. Anonymuz - Vice City (2016)

21. Eminem - Recovery (2010)

20. Kanye West - G.O.O.D Fridays (2010)

19. The Weeknd - Echoes of Silence (2011)

18. Danny Brown - XXX (2011)

17. Kendrick Lamar - Section.80 (2011)

16. Tribe Society - We Sell Drugs (2017)

15. The Neighbourhood - I Love You. (2013)

14. The Neighbourhood - The Love Collection (2013)

13. Lorde - Pure Heroine (2013)

12. XV - Popular Culture (2012)

11. Badflower - Temper EP (2016)

10. Highly Suspect - The Boy Who Died Wolf (2016)

9. The Weeknd - Thursday (2011)

8. The Weeknd - House of Balloons (2011)

7. Ab-Soul - Control System (2012)

6. Frank Ocean - nostalgia, ULTRA (2011)

5. Kendrick Lamar - good kid, m.A.A.d city (2012)

4. Lana Del Rey - Born To Die (2012)

3. Kid Cudi - Man on the Moon II: The Legend of Mr. Rager (2010)

2. Cunninlynguists - Oneirology (2011)

1. Kanye West - My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (2010)

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ftl-radio · 5 years

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Zoe Kravitz x Sza

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idontneednofuckinhug · 4 years

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Most anticipated albums for 2020

New year - new me, right? Honestly I don't believe in all of that, as New Years is literally just a night like any other, but if there's people out there who really do believe that a change of year can motivate them, all the power to them! The great thing about a new year though is new music, lots of new music. Ahead of us are 12 straight months of new releases, with some artists who release on a 2 or 3 year cycle being "it". Last year was an amazing year for good records - lots of the top musicians didn't actually release, but we got a lot of amazing projects from some new names and some old dogs proving why they're legends (looking at you Freddie and Danny). With that said, there's a lot of artists that should be releasing projects this year and I really can't wait for them to drop the new guwap.

Starting off with the main man, Kendrick should be dropping a new album this year, as it's going to be 3 years since DAMN.'s release in April. I'm quite interested to see what Lamar will be releasing, as there was a mixed reception by fans for DAMN. and it was definitely quite a step down from To Pimp a Buttefly and good kid, m.A.A.d city. Staying on the topic of TDE, it has been over 3 years since Ab-Soul dropped Do As Thou Wilt and I really want to hear what's been going on with one of the kings of witty rhymes and punchlines in contemporary hip-hop, especially as ScHoolboy recently said that Soul doesn't care about him no mo'.

Another person I've been quite patient with, waiting for his next release, has been my favourite rapper Isaiah Rashad, who's been playin' for the whole of 2019. Originally leaking snippets in late 2017 and early 2018, he skipped the rumoured release date of 2018 and claimed he'd release by summer 2019. In 2019 we did find out the album will be called "The House is Burning" and he claimed he'll release it in December. It's now January 2020 and we're still yet to hear from Zaywop. It's been quite annoying waiting for an album from him as it really does seem that as a typical Taurus, the dude won't drop it until he satisfies his perfectionism.

Next up in my most anticipated is A$AP Rocky. I didn't really like Testing, there were a few good tracks, but in general it felt like Rocky wasn't putting in the effort he had put in his previous work. I'm hoping the recent experience he had in Sweden to have affected him and for him to release another emotionally charged album, such as ALLA and LLA.

Noname has confirmed she'll be releasing an album in 2020, which is something I'd love to hear, as I quite liked Room 25. The record had a very different style of rapping, more akin to reciting poetry on a jazzy beat, Noname has a very personal, rambly style, which is adorable in its own way and she gives a very introspective window to being a sensitive woman in the rap game.

I'm also quite excited about a new Joey Bada$$ solo album, as his Beast Coast record was quite disappointing for me personally. I quite liked All-Amerikkkan Bada$$ and 1999 is one of my favourite mixtapes of all time, additionally to that Joey seems to have really grown in his spiritual journey the past couple of years, so we might get a very emotional and personal project.

Except Joey, I'm also quite excited about Vince Staples's project, which will likely be released sooner, rather than later, as we've already had 3 singles. Judging by the tracks it seems this might be a more commercially focused release for Vince and although I didn't enjoy the latest one he released, the first two were bangers. Vince has a knack for experimental and eccentric beats and I honestly would love it for him to jump on more commercial production and show what he's about.

J.Cole has confirmed he'll be releasing an album in 2020, which will be called "The Fall Off". Cole has had a very mixed discography for me, with his albums ranging from average to very good, with the songs in the albums themselves ranging from corny to bangers. I enjoyed 2014 Forest Hills Drive and KOD quite a bit and I'm quite interested to see what Cole's next album will hold, as he's been working very closely with quite a few young talented rappers and singers in Dreamville, who have pushed him to improve and change up his views. Additionally to that, Cole was one of the feature assassins in both 2018 and 2019, so I believe this might be the first project we get from him with features in it, even if only from the Dreamville cast.

In the trap focused community, Lil Uzi Vert and Playboi Carti have been grinding our gears all through 2019, as they've both been hinting at albums, but we've been left empty handed, whilst waiting for Whole Lotta Red and Eternal Atake. I'm also expecting a surprise project from Freddie Gibbs or Denzel Curry, as they've both proven to release a mixtape or album basically every year, although Zel did just drop 13OOD 1N + 13OOD OUT.

Going in the softer genres, 6lack tweeted "New year, new album" a couple of days back, all but confirming he's dropping this year. I'm very interested to hear from him and his love life disappointments, as he and PARTYNEXTDOOR offer a very emotional take on male experiences. Speaking of PND, I'm also expecting him to release this year, as he himself confirmed earlier on in 2019. I loved his first and third projects, so I'm hopeful he'll bring that vibe in the new album.

Frank Ocean - it's been 4 years since Blond. Can we get a new album, please? Frank did drop quite a few singles towards the end of 2019, which have pointed to him potentially releasing a new album soon, although the singles were mostly with him rapping, so we might be getting a completely new Frank Ocean. Regardless of that, I just want something from the contemporary king of R&B and break-up music.

R&B sweetheart SZA has also been quiet for nearly 3 years now, as Ctrl was released in 2017. She recently did drop a single with DJ Khaled, which I'd rather not talk about, but realistically she does work on a 3-year cycle, as Z was released in 2014 and she has claimed that she's dropping a new album "Soon as fuck". I'd also love to hear from the sexy Kali Uchis, as it's been a year and a half since Isolation, which was a fantastic pop/neo-soul/spanish album, full of raw emotion and energy.

Going into jazzier production, Thundercat hasn't released anything since 2017's Drunk, which was an amazing contemporary jazz record, which left me hungry for more. I'm quite hopeful the saxophone virtuoso decides to bless us with another modern take on jazz during this year.

Last but not least, Tame Impala will be releasing an album on Valentine's day - Kevin Parker's been quiet for quite a long while, as Currents was released nearly 5 years ago. It's quite intriguing to see what kind of direction Parker will take this album, as the two released singles were quite good so far.

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ohfugecannada · 3 years

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Glukkon Biology Headcanons

Hey guys! Sorry if I’m like, a month late on posting these, I’ve been busy with my animation coursework and general life stuff. Thanks for your patience.

Anyway, here’s… the stuff I wrote...

Back when glukkons were a more spiritually oriented society, they used to walk with their actual legs

Being shorter then an average mudokon and with long arms, they had a similar body plan to gibbons and other long-armed apes

After industrialising, thousands of years of relying too heavily on technology and having other races they enslaved do their work for them made the glukkons rapidly evolve to walk on their hands. Leaving their legs to become completely vestigial

Pre-industrial glukkons also had the ability to change their skin colour in a similar manner to octopuses and other cephalopods

They used this ability to express emotion non-verbally (sort of like the mudokons in Abe’s Exoddus) and sometimes for camouflage

Thousands of years of living underground in perpetual darkness, as well as other environmental factors such as thier industrial lifestyle and diet, have caused the colour change trait to become stunted in most of the glukkon population

Some Glukkons also had bioluminescent patterns on their skin that were only visible in darkness. Though, like the colour change, this trait has become stunted in most modern industrialised glukkons. With bioluminescence limited only to the eyes or irises

In one concept piece by Frazard, we can see glukkons have gill-like slits on their lower mouth palette. I imagine this is a leftover from their very early history when they were a more aquatic/amphibious species.

Given how most of the glukkons we’ve seen in the games so far appear to live on land or underground, it’s fair to assume these gill slits are either vestigial structures or have adapted to fit another purpose.

Another trait hinting at glukkons ancient primordial past in the water is their tongues. Which appear to be a remnant of their primordial ancestors tentacle arms, covered in octopus like suckers used for grabbing prey and, in modern glukkons, sensing taste similar to human tastebuds

Speaking of evolutionary throwbacks; the octigi-like, ocean dwelling ancestors of Glukkons were once able to spray an inky substance from glands near their mouths in order to get away from predators. While most modern glukkons have de-evolved this trait, there are some glukkons born with an adivistic condition that makes them puke ink when experiencing moments of extreme anxiety and stress.

Glukkons have always been a mostly carnivorous species. From when they swam the oceans preying on crab and clam-like creatures for food, to when they transitioned to living above water and began to hunt larger land-roaming prey.

In early glukkon civilisation, this came in the form of a Hunter gatherer-esque system where certain glukkons (mainly workers or non-breeding queens) would go out to hunt and bring back meat for their respective tribes.

Tribes that lived near costal regions also still swam and hunted fish.

(These same coastal glukkon tribes also still retained some of their amphibious traits such as being able to breathe underwater with their gills)

Glukkons later tamed herd and flock animals like meeps, only killing certain individuals when meat supplies were running low. All in all, a surprisingly sustainable diet. Until somebody during or after the schism had the bright idea of abandoning spiritual heritage, becoming an industrialist, authoritarian capitalist society, increasing consumption of oddworlds resources and killing more animals on mass then could possibly be needed for survival for the sake of profit. So yeah.

Like how certain humans have different eye or hair colours depending on thier genetics, glukkons eye structures can vary wildly in populations and individuals depending on thier genetics and certain environmental factors. Hence why some glukkons like Molluck and the other pre-soulstorm glukkons have bioluminescent eyes Better suited to subterranean darkness while the new Glukkons we see in soulstorm have eyes like nocturnal predators, with a tapetum lucidum visible in some shots of cutscenes.

And now; eggs!

Glukkon eggs are very soft and squishy, like big water ballons. The shell starts of very thick and rubbery when first laid, but slowly becomes thinner and more delicate until transparent. At which point the eggshell rips from the baby glukkons weight or their struggling in the egg, and the baby glukk slips out

To keep the eggshells from getting damaged or drying up, glukkon eggs are kept in a wet medium such as water, or a thick, watery slime like substance. In some cases, clusters of glukkon eggs are suspended in vertical walls of slime. such as the walls of eggs we see in Lady Margaret’s chambers in some concept art.

The thick, sticky slime also prevents newly hatched baby glukkons from falling to the floor below the egg walls. When a baby glukkon hatches they’re usually left suspended in the wall until someone like their mother, a guardian Angel or servant comes to fish them out and clean them up

Some baby glukkons have the habit of using their hands to touch or grab objects or people. Worker or drone glukkons using their hands for anything other than walking or pushing pedals is heavily frowned upon in glukkon society, and such behaviours are usually “corrected” very early on in worker glukkon’s life

glukkon foetuses have almost completely translucent skin while in the egg. It’s not until they hatch from their egg and take their first few breaths that a baby glukkon’s skin begins to take on colouration. At first through freckle like pigment spots on their face and chest that slowly grow larger and expand to the rest of their bodies

There are several genetic and environmental factors that can determine a glukkon’s skin colour, but generally, most industrial glukkons take on a muted or pale skin tone

When it comes to the glukkons born from Lady Margaret, she ascribes to the belief of “survival of the fittest”. she is incredibly strict with which of her eggs are allowed to hatch. Even going as far as to inspect each one herself. If a glukkon foetus’s physical characteristics don’t measure up to her standards of “perfection”, she crushes the egg and throws it in the garbage. (This headcanon I borrowed from the youtuber Frouch Marx and his lore/speculation video on Lady Margaret, which seems to have unfortunately been taken down along with the other videos on his channel for whatever reason…)

Of corse, being a ruler queen as well as a breeding queen, Margret is likely too busy with other royal duties to practice eugenics on her unborn offspring. So most of the time, she leaves the egg inspections to her personal Guardian Angel unit, who Margret has had programmed to watch over and protect the “perfect” eggs and terminate any “undesirables” while she tends to other business

Due to the fact Lady Margret can be seen smoking, holding a cigarette between her fingers or with tobacco stains on her mouth and fingers in many pieces of concept art, It can be inferred that many of the glukkons we see smoking in the series like Molluck (and other glukkons in the old quintology who may presumably be her children like Dripik, phleg etc), inherited their smoking habit from her

Also, as you can imagine, Margaret’s habit of smoking while pregnant doesn’t exactly have the best effect on her young and their development

It is not uncommon for Margret’s eggs to be laid/hatch prematurely or even for eggs to miscarry or hatchlings to be still born

Even when Margret’s hatchlings do survive to term, often times they are born severely underweight, suffer respiratory problems and a myriad of other health complications in their early lives

Cleft lip is also a common condition in foetuses laid by lady Margaret. Of corse, she makes sure eggs containing such foetuses never have the chance to hatch on her watch

Like mudokon litters, each glukkon litter is nursed by thier mother queen for the first few weeks of thier lives (usually kept in special pouches under her robes), after which time they’re each separated and taken to be raised by a foster parent. For glukkon workers, this is either in the form of one of their much older siblings or cousins acting as their legal guardian or, in rarer cases for a glukkon, a foster slig.

Similar to mudokons and sligs, glukkons are a eusocial race that can be sorted into three main castes: workers, queens and drones

Workers are, so far, the caste we’ve seen the most of in the games. They are the sexless (and, usually, aromantic and asexual) caste that in glukkon society are mainly placed in roles as bosses to lower ranking slave species like Sligs and mudokons. The ones that run the factories

According to some height charts and what can be inferred from their game appearances, an average glukkon worker’s adult height ranges from around 7 to 10 feet tall

Queens, along with drones, are the ones that do all the breeding. Along with laying all the eggs that provide the glukkon population, many queens also hold powerful positions in glukkon society as politicians and rulers similar to royal monarchs of earth nations

Queens are probably the largest of the three glukkon castes. Even before developing into breeding queens, most adult glukkon queens can grow to around 10 or 12 feet tall

There are historical accounts of some breeding queens being even larger then that. With some individuals being described as 50 or even 100 feet tall. It’s not clear if there is any truth in these accounts, or if they were fabricated claims, designed as propaganda by the glukkons writing them to make their respective queens seem more powerful and godlike then they actually were in life…

Glukkon drones are the males. While most of them are born into high society and financial wealth, (and maintain it as such or gain it through marring a queen) its extremely rare for glukkon drones to hold anywhere near as much power or influence in glukkon society as their queen counterparts or even some glukkon workers.

By contrast to queens and workers, I imagine Glukkon drones being pretty short. Especially when compared to queens. Much like the Argonaut octopus, who’s males are 600 times smaller then the females

While the size difference isn’t quite as extreme as that, glukkon drones are still the smallest of the glukkon castes. With the tallest adult drones usually only being about 7 feet tall at most and the average drone being just taller then a regular mudokon worker by a few inches

There also appears to be a form of sexual dimorphism with queens and worker males when it comes to the shape of their heads. With workers (and possibly drones) having pointy, upward facing, ovular shape to the backs of their heads while queens have a flatter, circular shape to theirs.

This possible dimorphism also appears to extend to other members of the octigi family such as the Gloktigi, as seen with Lady Margaret’s personal Gloktigi bodyguards (which would make sense, given how Gloktigi are hybrids of Octigi and Glukkons and would likely carry traits like this from thier glukkon side)

Of corse, much like physical sex characteristics and classification in the real world, such things are never as quite clear cut as this. There are plenty of glukkon queens are same size as a worker or as small as drones, workers who are as short as drones or almost as tall as queens or drones that are as tall as workers.

Head shapes can also very wildly in individuals and say next to nothing about their caste. There are Glukkon workers who have flatter or rounder heads and some queens who have pointier, ovular heads etc

In truth, the constructs of castes in glukkons, even in the physical or biological sense, are far more complicated then the idea of the trinity glukkons have been led by their own society to believe

Much like certain Mudokons, some glukkons aren’t fully fixed to the castes and caste roles that were assigned to them at infancy

For instance, there are workers who are able to develop strong emotional or romantic attraction to someone, queens or drones who were assigned as such at hatching yet feel no sexual or romantic attraction to anyone, queens who were drones or workers at hatching but realised later in their lives this label didn’t reflect who they are, among so, so many others…

Most notably, although it is rare within the glukkon cartels, there are some cases of glukkon workers, in a similar case to certain mudokon workers changing from workers to drones, changing caste from worker to queen

Very little is known by industrial scientists of what causes this metamorphosis, and not much research is dedicated to dormant glukkon queens compared to dormant mudokon drones. As the phenomena is much less frequently occurring (or more accurately, only appears to be)

It’s likely that the strict, antisocial environments and extremely wealth-beaded social hierarchy system that encourages glukkon individuals to act in their own self interest and become more socially isolated are one factor that disrupts whatever biological systems create a self sustaining number of queens

There’s the possibility as well that certain drugs provided to glukkon breeding queens to lesson the pain or exhaustion caused by the egg laying process (among some individual queens other habits and addictions, such as Lady Margaret’s aforementioned smoking problem) have a negative effect on their offspring’s fertility

- Though this varies from cartel to cartel, one other reason for the rarity of dormant queens is them being highly persecuted against by their cartel, due to their respective ruling queens either seeing them as a threat because: A) they believe dormant queens are unneeded competition in thier already competitive struggle for power and inheritance in thier respective royal families, B) some ruling queens believe if any workers were to think they could just abandon their assigned caste roles, it could very well lead to the ruling queens losing the hold they had over the workers that keep them in power, and/or C) some ruling queens see dormant queens as unworthy of being queens, in either the ruling or breeding sense. Believing their status as former workers makes them, and any possible offspring they may have, ““impure””

- As a result of this, some cartels purposefully try to snuff out any dormant queens in their work force. While there are more strict rules about straight up murdering glukkons compared to killing mudokons or Sligs, cartels have other means of suppressing or controlling dormant queens, such as through threat or blackmail, blacklisting, or far worse such as chemical castration or forced sterilisation

Because of this, many dormant queens either remain deeply closeted their entire lives, try in vein to have who they are ““cured””, or, in some tragic cases, take their own lives…

- Of corse, it wasn’t always like this. It wasn’t always the case glukkons were so cruel even to their own queens. There was a time back in glukkon civilisations past where dormant queens aren’t seen as anything unusual, let alone seen as a threat or something to be abhorred. Dormant queens weren’t just accepted, Dormant queens just… were. Some glukkon tribes even hand special cultures coming of age rites and constructed tests for glukkons to transition from worker to Queen properly. Though, much like so, so much of glukkons deep spiritual heritage, these practices of unambiguous acceptance towards dormant queens were purposefully erased by future glukkon historians, and lost to the sands of time…

Now, the best case scenario for a dormant Queen would be escape to and live in the very fringes of industrial civilisation. A bittersweet existence where they could exist as they are and nobody could hurt them… but they’d be completely alone…

…unless, of corse, there’s someone just like them who had the same idea of running off to save themselves.

…maybe they aren’t as alone as either of them thought…

(Sorry if the end but feels a bit sloppy/rushed, I just wanted to get this done already and not keep you guys waiting lol)

@magicalgrimm @boopwyrm

#eugenics mention #miscarriage mention #stillbirth mention #suicide mention #chemical castration mention #sterilisation mention #alien biology #xenobiology #oddworld #glukkons #glukkon #glukkon queens #glukkon workers #glukkon drones #headcanons

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outoftimewriting · 4 years

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Imagine (based on the incomplete fanfic Son of the Underworld) (Son of Hades! Percy AU) (5/5) or (5/10)

Hey so, this is the last part of PJO - I follow into HOO, so before you read this, check on the masterpost - and read the warnings before proceeding :)) Good reading!

Annabeth comes to him, at the end of his fifteenth birthday party, and shows her Daedalus laptop. There's a document open in it, and it's labeled Achilles' Curse.

Percy doesn't read it - he hates reading, in any way or form or language - but she does, out loud.

"I'll think about it"

They have a year. Most of them, even those who aren't year-rounders, are going back to camp, to draw battle plans and stock on the armory.

He feels kinda selfish - for a whole five seconds before he remembers he'll probably die next summer, so he just shrugs it off - Percy deserves this year.

They all leave to go back to camp. Nico seems conflicted over something - but Perseus doesn't question it, there's enough bad blood between them.

Paola is really cool - and Sally really loves her. It's kind of bizarre at first, to see his Mom dating his teacher - and of a subject he hates - but Paola is calm and well-tempered and she laughs at his stupid ass jokes.

He visits Persephone afterward - and it really feels like he has three moms to fulfill his lack of a father - well, he is absolutely grateful for the women in his life.

Percy isn't truly in good terms with his father. The man doesn't really seem to care much for him as a person - he is much more of a trophy son.

Perseus loathes being a trophy son, but at least he has someone to help with his powers - not something a lot of half-bloods can claim.

So he goes back to school with Rachel, and they pretend everything is normal. He tells her about his quests - all three of them. He thinks she understands him better now.

He opens up to her. Tells her about Annabeth - the adrenaline-fueled kiss - and Rachel stops talking with him for a week.

She apologizes when she comes back. She needed to figure some things up - firstly, the redhead tells him she is probably asexual - and maybe aromantic too, but she is not certain because the internet wasn't really clear about that.

Then Rachel confesses that she is not jealous of him in a romantic way - she is envious of his friendship with Annabeth. Percy is her first genuine friend that really appreciates her.

This is the first grudge Perseus lets go for real before it even takes place - Rachel didn't leave him because of teenage drama, she ignored him out of confusion. Everyone is allowed space - he knows this better than anyone.

They don't kiss anymore. Not because Rachel doesn't like it - no, she is all for it - but because Percy is starting to think kisses should mean something - he is saving them.

They kiss once - when Rachel father calls for the first time this year - not to ask about her, but to tell Rachel he found this amazing all-girls school. To Percy, kisses mean comfort.

They cuddle a lot, though. These past few years of fear have made Percy very touch-starved.

It's sophomore year - and Percy is in five AP classes: Macroeconomics&Microeconomics, Statistics, Calculus AB, Physics 1, and Comparative Government and Politics.

He is planning on taking both AP Computer Science classes, Psychology, Physics 2, and Calculus BC next year; leaving only Electricity&Magnetism, Mechanics, Chemistry, and World History for his senior year.

If he lives, he is working on a tight schedule here. He doesn't know what he wants yet - and if he is in constant danger, it's already pretty lucky he can do high school - but probably something with Math.

Rachel says fourteen AP courses are ambitious - that he'll burn out. But math comes to him easily enough - it's in his blood.

She is also overworking: She is taking AP Environmental Studies, Art History, Drawing, 2-D Art and Design, and English Literature and Composition.

They complete each other. Rachel is planning on taking as many Art, History, and English courses as she can - he is taking as many Physics, Math, and Science as he can handle.

(She is also going to take on Japanese studies for some reason - probably for her GPA, but Perseus just teases her that she is getting too invested in anime)

Perseus doesn't care about languages anymore - the only languages that matter to him are C++ and JavaScript now.

They study together, they take naps together, they climb to the roof together, they flee school to visit Sally together - he is the Pinky to her Brain, the Scooby to her Shaggy, the Lois Lane to her Superman, the Robin to her Batman.

They look like troublemakers - They are honor roll students, but she is always with ripped pants dirty with paint, and he is always full of flowers everywhere, even in his muddy converses - a cliche to kill all cliches.

They're both nerds - he is the classic one, all polo shirts now, the first chair for every number-related class - and she is the artsy one - there's a brush behind her ear and her hair is so messy that half the time it covers her face.

Paola gifts him a pair of cheap frames without lenses once - saying it adds to the aesthetic - he totally uses them.

Persephone just makes him flower-crowns, and giggles when he matches them with his polo shirts.

When winter comes, he goes back to his hoodies and sweaters and gloves - to find out he doesn't miss them a lot.

Rachel introduces him to polaroids - and they look eerily pretty in the winter, her hair looking like blood spilling over the snow - and he loves it.

If he survives - he can feel Rachel slapping him - when he survives, his college credits will be remarkable. The idea of doing SATs makes him want to cry - reading always does - but he'll get somewhere good - he knows it. Perhaps Stanford. Or NYU. Or the dream of his life, MIT.

He is living his life to the fullest - he starts reading comic books, he gets really (really) into Tony Stark once Iron Man 1 comes out (even if he has to kill at least three monsters just to go to the movies), he plants trees and Rachel starts teaching him how to play her ukulele - but half his mind is still on the upcoming war.

Christmas vacation comes - and he goes to visit Camp Half-Blood, before heading back to his mom. It's quite memorable, if only by the fact that Nico Di Angelo freaking betrays him.

He tells Percy to come to the Winter Solstice with him. Most of the campers are not going - the war effort is in an all-time high - but Percy has never gone before. Hades will be there - it'll be great!

Perseus should absolutely be less surprised with the outcome - seeing that Nico is inviting him in Cabin 1, post-dinner, and they don't even stop to talk to Chiron about it.

But Percy goes. Because Percy wants to make amends.

There's no time to really talk to anyone. They travel in Blackjack for the Empire State Building - and it's fine.

They go up to Olympus, Nico shows him everything in the god's land, the temples are a work of art, if not kind of old, and the meeting is kind of okay, even if the gods are squabbling children.

Then the gods leave, and Perseus thinks they're leaving too.

"My father needs a word with you"

Perseus feels the betrayal claw on him. There are no shadows in the white hall, there's no way for him to escape. Nico looks apologetic - Percy wants to clock him in the face.

"He promised to tell me more about my mother" Nico pleads "He will tell me more about where I've come from. Please, Percy."

Nico is cute. He is, for a soon-to-be fourteen-year-old. But his pretty face and exquisite white eyes don't make him any less of a freaking liar. All his handsome male straight friends betray him - it's a worrying pattern now.

He muses for a second that they also all have a crush on Annabeth - gods, the blonde attract the worst types.

It's double-crossing - Percy ends up in an all-white cell that burns his retinas without any weapons because Zeus wants praise in the middle of this freaking war - doesn't matter if a hundred demigods die, if he only has the glory.

Nico ends up with barely any information - Zeus didn't promise anything. The god of the skies is a lying-ass motherfucker - literally.

And Zeus justifies it - He says Perseus is a criminal because he awakened Typhon. So Hephaestus issues a quest so he can save a hundred demigods, he destroys a powerful titan weapon of doom, and he is the villain? Sure, Jan.

Perseus writes this grudge in his heart - that's where trust will take you. To a cell. Betrayed by a "friend". Again.

He flinches when Nico comes into his cell, pins him to the wall and promptly begins to try and strangle him. He wants to melt in the boy's shadow - to go and never give him a chance to explain - but he looks so guilty Percy waits for his repentance.

The son of Zeus saves him, but Perseus is still pissed off. The god of thunder has threatened to kill him off at least two times now, what is to say he wouldn't have killed off Percy for the sake of glory?

He half hopes Zeus had killed him off. The war is close, too close - Nico wouldn't be the Prophecy's child. There would be no child. Olympus would fall - and Percy would have seen it all from his very comfortable couch in Elysium.

He wants Kronos gone - but he kind of wants Olympus to fall with the Titan.

Nico flies him down to the Earth - the elevator is monitored. Zeus has left, like many others - not to bother with the war effort against his main enemy, but to go to the human world mess with people.

Some gods are doing something - He has heard from Annabeth that Artemis is leading the widest hunt ever, with her brother by her side; Hermes (with Hephaestus help) is delivering Celestial Bronze, other metals, old schematics and a whole lot of fuel to Camp Half-Blood every few weeks; Poseidon is fighting his own war, in the ocean; Dionysus is at Camp - and this time, he is really helpful with the battle formations; Demeter is on the Underworld - Chiron seems to think his father is preparing for war, but Percy sorely doubts it.

Percy is taking some people with him to Sally's Christmas dinner. Just Annabeth, Clarisse, Rachel, Connor, Travis, and Charles - people who don't have a present family to celebrate it with.

Grover is coordinating the dryads up in San Francisco with his second cousin, Gleeson Hedge - they are the first to fall if anything goes wrong in Mt. Othrys.

"I think you should stay." He tells Nico.

"You don't trust me anymore." It's not actually a question.

Percy doesn't trust the boy. Not at all - it's the third time he does something shady to achieve his ends based on emotional turmoil. But he is a good person - it's just his father's cursed temper and his grief.

"It's not that. You're needed for the war effort."

Both of them know it's a lie. Percy doesn't care - he deserves to be bitter a little longer.

Percy goes back home. Christmas is amazing - even if Rachel asks him where Nico is because he is talking about making amends with the boy for a while now.

He goes visit Persephone - but she is occupied, so he wanders through the Underworld after Bianca di Angelo - someone he, for some reason, never been able to reach. It's a pointless endeavor by now.

He finds her. Or else, he finds a shadow of her - she is blocked from his view. Bianca doesn't talk to him - they weren't close - but she guides him to a girl.

Her name is Hazel Levesque.

She seems lost - like most ghosts - but something in Percy calls for her. It's the color of her skin and the sparkle in her golden eyes - Hazel remembers him of himself.

He promises to visit more - even though he doesn't think she'll remember it - and leaves to go back to the surface - he will finish the sophomore year.

And Percy does. After a very distressing break, he is doing his best. His grades drop a little in English because he can barely focus - half his mind is on the war and Nico's betrayal and Hazel Levesque's golden eyes.

Miraculously, his GPA doesn't fall - he still is taking a ridiculous amount of AP classes, and barely has time to breathe - dark circles grow under his eyes, and he looks like a mess - but now he is a Junior.

That's why, as soon as the year ends, Rachel takes him on a road trip with Connor. They go all the way to Boston, then Portland, Quebec, Montreal, Ottawa, Syracuse, Baltimore, and Filadelfia, before going back to NY.

They are stopped five times by the police - because Percy is black, and it's Rachel driving the Camaro, because she has a learner's permit and Connor is, somehow, an approved license holder.

They are on a pier, enjoying the view of the beach. They did the last week alone because Connor wanted to go check on one of his cousins - at least, that's what he said, with an over-exaggerated wink that both Percy and Rachel ignored for the sake of their sanity.

She tells him about Clarion Ladies Academy - but that her father is at least mildly happy with her GPA this year, even if he disapproves of her Art focused AP classes. Percy thinks Mr. Dare would love him, with his APs on Economics and Politics, if only he was rich. And white.

This time, when Charles Beckendorf arrives in a Pegasus to tell him it's time, Rachel doesn't kiss him - she justs hugs him and makes him promise to call her.

Perseus doesn't go to the Andromeda Ship - he is needed in Camp. He is useless on the water - but they do need him to improve battle strategy.

Charles Beckendorf is dead. Thalia is the one to tell them - she was in her father's palace helping with a monster under her Lady's orders - he went on the mission alone.

Percy talks briefly with Beckendorf's ghost - is his worst developed power, and he can barely hold the "seance" for more than a few minutes. He does it with only Nico di Angelo for witness - the others are the way to close to the situation.

There's a spy passing information to Luke.

They look at him. Doesn't matter how much he does, he is always the first suspect - he is a son of Hades. He was friends with a lot of people on the other side. He was gone for a year and a half, who knows where.

Perseus wants to say that he has helped to save their asses four times now - that without him in the Labyrinth, they would all be dead right now - and that Charles was basically his older brother.

Then he points out he wasn't even here - he had no idea of any plans of anything - and he told him about the spy, so he is not the freaking spy, go point fingers at each other instead of him.

When they start yelling, he stops them - this is not the time, he was just angry at their accusations. They have to burn Charles shroud. Silena is inconsolable - Percy is not very far from it, but he is not a public crier. The last time he cried in public, Luke was dead on a cliff.

Percy speeds up the line for Elysium to Beckendorf - his brother deserves it.

They read the prophecy together - Perseus already read it last summer, he doesn't even care anymore. They look at him anxiously - no one has forgotten that he abhors most of the gods.

Clarisse and Michael Yew fight, but Lee Fletcher - with a mechanical arm built by Beckendorf himself, still re-learning how to shoot arrows and forever incapable of playing the guitar again (but the keyboard is not ruled out yet) - stops them: They can share the chariot. The war is more important - is not the time for petty fights.

Chiron shows them Typhon - and Perseus has a sliver of hope that they can destroy Kronos and be free of the gods at the same time - It's a horrible hope, because he loves Persephone and some of them are even okay sometimes, but he really wants Zeus to go to Tartarus for at least a century, so Perseus doesn't meet him again in this life.

But he also wants the gods to win, because there's a lot of dead people - innocents, people who have nothing to do with this war.

He dreams of Rachel. Rachel is painting Luke - and Percy wakes up crying, for the boy the gods took away.

Annabeth takes him aside and reminds him of Achilles' Curse. He is off to May Castellan's house - the last place Luke has been - for it's his best and only chance, its what Annie thinks. And she is scarcely wrong.

Perseus hates the gods. They wrecked a family - and for what? May Castellan - forever waiting for a son that will never come back, haunted by visions of his future, plates of burned cookies everywhere.

Perseus doesn't pity her - he rages against the gods, who brought madness upon this woman and then left her to it. Where was Apollo, the god of health? Dionysus, who is supposed to control mental health? Artemis, whose job is to protect women?

Hestia is kind - but she is still a goddess. She could've prevented this - but she hides in her hearth and abstains - and that's enabling. Hestia enables the other gods to do as they please, even when she is the oldest. She says they ignore her - oh well, she ignores them right back! He has no time for the laments of another all-powerful being.

So he goes to his mother and asks for her blessing. Then, just to be sure, he asks Persephone's too.

He thinks about his anchor - where does he want it to be in his body. He doesn't want somewhere in his back - where he can't see it - or in his gut - where anyone can stick a sword. He settles for the bottom of his back - where he can at least touch it and it's well protected by armor - and dives.

Perseus hates water - and he has an uncanny fear of drowning. He feels pain - everywhere, horrible pain.

His vision now doesn't have Annabeth's face - the blonde is his link to the demigod world, Persephone is his link to the Underworld and his mom is his link to childhood - but the person who grounds him is Rachel.

He is stronger. He feel his powers at his fingertips - Perseus feels the Underworld as a whole, and it's overwhelming.

Green flames explode from his hands. Flowers made of shadows curve around his ankles - he has been training since he was 12, but now his body can sustain all of his power. This is all his.

He goes meet with his father - Perseus manipulates him. He tells Hades he'll be the hero, but the god himself can be praised for more than being his father. That he should join the battle against Typhon - That's his chance of proving himself. Also, there's less paperwork for him if there are fewer dead people.

His father is amused with his blatant bribing, but he thinks about it, Percy can tell. In a way or another, he excuses himself and goes back to the surface where he is needed.

Persephone stalls him. She asks him to stay, just for this night. He can go back in the morning - he sleeps, and dreams of Rachel again, drawing in the sand. In greek.

He is scared for her - she is having demigod dreams, but she is mortal. Something is wrong.

Typhon is getting worse - and Kronos draws closer to NYC. It's time - he calls for Blackjack and leaves - Mrs. O'Leary, who has become more or less of a mother to his own hellhound, follows. Persephone promises to convince Hades.

They have about sixty campers able to fight heading for the Empire State Building, and five healers. The ones too young to lift a sword or string a bow stayed back at Camp with Argus - fifteen children between 5 and 9 years old.

Percy knows he looks different - he looks just like his father. He has gained a godly aura - he has no scars anymore, no imperfections. Perseus looms over all of them - he went from 5'7'' to 6'2'' - it's a weird view, from up there. It's still strange when they look at him with a mix of fear and admiration.

Perseus Jackson is officially their leader. He hates Olympus - but he will give his life to defend every single one of his demigods.

The vision Hestia shows him just makes him want to tear this throne room with his bare hands - Luke was a kid. He was a kid - and the gods corrupted him. Thalia was a kid - and the gods took her life, twice. Annabeth is still a kid - they all are - and she is here planning battle strategies.

Annabeth missed an extra year of formal education - while Percy is a Junior, Annabeth barely qualifies for a Freshman - because the gods took this from her too.

Percy rages. The ground of Olympus trembles beneath him - he wants to kill something.

Then Hermes appears - like this whole war is not his fault in the first place, the literal bastard - just to relay a message from Athena that gives them a plan that Annabeth was already putting into works and tells Percy to stay away from Annabeth.

Like she cares. Like Athena has ever, ever, done anything for Annabeth.

Perseus can't punch Athena, so he punches the messager (also, because he freaking guilt trips both of them about Luke). He has nothing to lose - he is going to die by the end of the day anyway, and they need him too much.

He has punched a god before - Ares, in a desert in the middle of Los Angeles - but this time, it's satisfactory. He feels good after it.

Hermes seems strangely resigned - He feels guilty about Luke too, but Perseus doesn't think it's enough. It'll never be enough, not while the gods leave their children to rot in a cabin of rejects and May Castellan bakes cookies for a son that will never come back.

Hermes leaves, ashamed. It's only fair, Perseus thinks. They all should be ashamed.

They see the city asleep - the prophecy is in the works.

Perseus executes their strategy - every cabin is covering a tunnel, with the exception of Dionysus, because Pollux is with the Demeter kids, and the Hecate kids stay behind to use spells to overlook the city. Lincoln Tunnel is getting covered by Ares - who, this time around, is actively participating.

The undetermined who didn't desert are with Hermes - and the minor god's children are divided by specialty - most Hypnos and Morpheus children follow him directly, but the two sons of Iris go with the Apollo Cabin.

Annabeth executes Plan 23, automatons, mounting on Mrs. O'Leary (who has strict orders to take Annabeth anywhere she wants without stopping to play around) - she doesn't need his help with this, and Percy has a tunnel to defend.

That left the rivers uncovered - until Thalia appears, with magical sand money, and made the rivers cooperate.

The hunters join the Aphrodite kids - who are half a dozen children between 11 and 19 - the oldest being Silena Beauregard, who uses a crossbow that looks exactly like her immortal half-brother's one.

His bridge is completely covered on skeletons - but no monster comes, even if he hears explosions. He leaves an English Lieutenant from the Battle of Yorktown in command of the bridge - with Tyene, the oldest daughter of Morpheus, to be in alert and don't let Clovis sleep through the battle. Because he did it before - and while it is funny, it can't happen right now.

Perseus mounts Blackjack - and go see where the noise is coming from. It's the Williamsburg Bridge - where are most of Apollo's Cabin.

They fight - and Percy almost cries when he sees Luke, who is not Luke anymore. Luke, who is a puppet controlled by Kronos.

Perseus kills the Minotaur and the weight of his stone spikes collapse the bridge - and Michael Yew dies. This time around, the bridge falls silently into shadows, and he doesn't bother about searching for the corpse - he saw the boy falling, and his screams will haunt all of them, forever.

This time around, Annabeth is not there to protect him - Ethan also doesn't try to kill him. The Son of Nemesis doesn't leave Kronos side for a second - but there's regret in his eyes.

After the bloodlust is gone, Perseus collapses - Will has to bride carry him back. Overuse of his powers - he summoned skeletons and produced shadows, melted enemy swords (with the bonus of incapacitating them without killing), and sprouted stone spikes everywhere - there's even a vine or ten that he used to hold his friends from falling.

Perseus doesn't sleep quickly enough to not hear the yell of anguish that comes from Lee Fletcher - the pain of losing a brother and not being able to fight beside him.

But he does sleep - and he dreams. He dreams of Hades killing Maria Di Angelo, not Hera, like Zeus told Nico. He dreams of Zeus cursing the Oracle - and he seethes, because he also sees what happened to May Castellan.

He keeps getting angrier and angrier at the gods - it's building inside of him. But his friends are still here, still fragile. He can't let them suffer more.

Perseus wakes up, checks on everyone - most everyone is either injured and/or exhausted, but he checks on every camper. He knows all of their names, their ages, their cabins. - and promises to sit up to talk with Thalia and Nico - war makes him prone to peace - and promptly goes back to sleep.

He dreams of Rachel. He wants to scream for her not to come: but she'll anyway.

Perseus dreams of a boy. He is his age - maybe a little younger. His hair is blonde and his skin is whiter - but Percy glances at his eyes, and there are waves in them.

There's a girl by his side - she is familiar to Percy, somehow. They're climbing a mountain.

The dream ends and Percy can't make heads or tails of it. He asks Thalia if she has a brother, but she says that she doesn't, looking wistful.

Prometheus is tempting - but he knows there's no Luke anymore, there's only Kronos. And the gods are horrible, vile and immature - but they never killed any of Percy's friends. Some of them died for the gods - but never by their hands, so for now, Perseus would toe the line.

He does want to punch Hermes again. He takes the Pythos - if everything goes wrong, he will not hesitate in going down for the sake of his friends - but there have been six deaths, and it's enough.

"Was it worth it?" He asks Ethan.

"Alabaster is alive" And it's all the answer Percy needs.

He dreams of Ethan and Alabaster. Alabaster is alive, yes, but he is missing half a leg - courtesy of Clarisse herself. Luke - Kronos - is indifferent, and Ethan curses the daughter of Ares - "The sword that took from us will take from you"

He contains Hyperion with his shadows. Then he helps Grover (who was half asleep, because of Morpheus) to make the Titan into a tree. It's a pomegranate tree - then he sets hellish fire to it and sacrifices it to Hades and Persephone.

A pig is in the sky - this time around, Annabeth and her frightening army of automatons kill it with Nico's help.

Perseus laughs - because Annabeth has about two hundred automatons under her command, Martin Luther King and Alexander Hamilton leading the charge with a giant bull being ridden by the Mad Hatter behind them.

It's weird to see historic figures Percy admires - like Jane Bolin, Sylvia Mendez, or Abraham Lincoln - fighting alongside people he downright despises - Thomas Jefferson and the goatfucker, herpes-ridden, Colombus. His Comparative Government teacher would have a field day.

Annabeth and Nico's pair up is amazing - They fight alongside like they have been doing it all life.

Nico is a force of nature, flying and commanding the winds to do his bidding - His eyes shine in the midst of the stormy clouds. His specialty is weather manipulation - he hasn't had much success with direct energy or electric discharges.

Annabeth has her mother's tenacity for war - and her clever mind for strategies. It's clear in her eyes - she is racking the weaker points of the Clazmonian Sow in her mind and destroying it. The automatons hold the pig in place - and she makes bacon of it.

Hercules couldn't do it. Nico and Annabeth can, because they have the power and the mind.

Perseus is still fighting off monsters - but they're too widespread, so they retreat to the doors of the Empire State Building.

Percy does a mental tally: of sixty-two campers, six are confirmed dead, twenty are injured and nine are out of commission on exhaustion. There should be 27 orange shirts here - but there's only twenty.

Percy wonders if the seven missing are injured, or dead, or under a pile of rubble somewhere with no one to help them. Is there someone being slowly eaten by monsters? Is there someone alone and injured and abandoned? He doesn't know.

He prays that those seven deserted them - at least that means they probably are alive and well.

Perseus looks at Phoebe's grief-stricken face, and he knows it's not probable - she had almost three dozen hunters with her, and now there's barely fifteen still fighting, Thalia nowhere to be seen.

They prepare for their last standing - Percy keeps conjuring skeletons, but they're no match for the sheer strength of the hyperborean giants. Nico is shoulder to shoulder with the Stoll brothers against a group of telkhines - Clarisse is bringing down a whole giant by herself.

After the Party Ponies save them - Chiron leads the charge against his own father, and Perseus is so proud of his mentor he can't even put in words how much - he goes to sleep. Fighting gets him tired quickly, and they'll come back.

He dreams of Dionysus. Perseus is not fond of any god who is not Persephone, but Dionysus is mostly okay sometimes. He seems to care about his children.

Perseus couldn't care less about the Western Civilization - but he'll care for Pollux. It's one of his demigods, after all, and Underworld people are possessive of theirs (i.e. Hades and Persephone).

He dreams of Thalia, in her father's palace, begging Poseidon to leave the underwater war and help with the invasion - His wife is none too happy with the presence of his immortal bastard daughter.

He wakes up to Rachel's helicopter falling - how is Rachel even awake, is a mistery.

The improbable pair Nico and Annabeth strike again: The girl knows how to fly helicopters, and the boy can fly himself. They save the redhead and the pilot - everything is fine.

"You're not the hero"

"Why did you risk yourself to tell me something I already know?"

Rachel doesn't explain - she can't. But she has a vision that says that he is not the hero. The hero of what? Perseus has no idea. But there's no way any of his cousins is dying for this stupid prophecy.

Suddenly, there's a drakon there. Rachel has another prophecy - Perseus fears she will walk the path that led May Castellan to destruction - that only a child of Ares will be able to kill it.

Bad news: All children of Ares are otherwise out of battle.

Clarisse is resting after a nasty concussion - and her brothers and Apollo's children are fighting yet again because Lee Fletcher is in no condition to stop them and Michael Yew is dead. Ares' side refuses to fight without the chariot - which Cabin 7 has hidden somewhere.

The best they can do is fend the drakon off until a miracle occurs. And it does: Clarisse, in full armor, manages to lead her brothers into battle.

Clarisse is dead. Something shatters inside of Perseus - and he leaves the drakon for the Ares' children to solve - he can't kill it anyway - and starts to vaporize the army behind it.

He is so caught up in bloodlust, that he almost misses Clarisse slaying a dragon. Clarisse, who has no armor. Clarisse, who is alive.

Ethan's curse rang true - Clarisse's weapon took something from her.

Silena is a traitor. She is also dead - which makes her a martyr, and probably going to reunite with her boyfriend in Elysium.

He remembers how easy is to fall for Luke's charm - he was - is - still in love with the guy. Percy thought the son of Hermes could do no wrong - and he wonders how much of his rage against the gods sprout from his influence.

Something evil inside of Perseus's mind tells him she deserved it. It tells Perseus that better her than Clarisse - but he shuts it down, and concentrates on his shining red friends.

He hates Ares. But he might just have an okay side if he can produce such a magnificent daughter.

Silena is the Patroclus to Clarisse's Achilles, and the Drakon is Hector - and the daughter of Ares is sure to parade its dead body.

It's the first time they feel like they are winning. It doesn't last - but as he hugs Clarisse tightly, he thinks he might cry of relief.

Clarisse looks tough - but she is a wonderful human being. She loves Silena with her whole heart - even more than she loves Chris, her best friend. Silena might've been in love with Charles - but she and Clarisse? They are soulmates.

The damned Pythos is following Perseus - and he is done with it. He knows where hope will survive best. Rachel wants him to give it to Hestia - but he owns the fire goddess nothing.

She has never interfered, not once, to help the dozens of demigods with no family that is abandoned in Cabin 11, and he won't forgive her for it.

He sacrifices hope to Persephone because that's what spring is. Spring is the hope of a new life. Maybe, Perseus thinks, it'll convince his father to come.

They go down to make their final stand against the forces of Kronos. There's not a lot of them - but they're not getting through those doors.

Well, his father doesn't come. But Poseidon does, with his whole army, Tyson and Thalia behind him, and the scales seem to turn.

And then Kronos cuts the barrier. Perseus can see his Mom (why is his Mom here with a handgun?!) and Poseidon fighting against the monsters under the eyes of extremely confused mortals.

Some are trying to break the barrier - but it's futile. Kronos has corraled them like sheep for the slaughter.

It's just him, Grover, Annabeth and Nico, fighting against Kronos vanguard - which is big, but not as strong as they are.

Kronos passes him without resistance - Ethan follows, but there's anger in his eyes - not for Percy, but for the monster he is leashed to. Alabaster is not there.

As soon as Kronos powers stop working on them, the four follow the titan - and some things never change, no matter the universe.

This time, it's Nico who falls because of Hera - it's her curse over all of her husband's bastards.

Ethan takes one look at Perseus, and they don't even need to fight. They have been friends for longer than they have been enemies - and they both loathe the gods, but Kronos is as much of an all-powerful controller being as any of the Olympians.

They battle against Kronos - Perseus has only his ax against his scyther - a true Underworld fight.

Ethan dies. And Perseus bloodlust consumes him - it clouds his eyes and he can only keep fighting.

"If... if we've had cabins... and they had thrones"

It's true, and more than ever, Perseus wishes Kronos wasn't such a bastard. He wouldn't bother killing the gods - but the titan is a way worse option.

"LUKE, PLEASE" It's Annabeth. He doesn't have her faith - she didn't saw his transformation. But he tries anyway because he loves Luke just as much as he hates Kronos.

"Luke, remember our summer" But his words are caught up in his throat when the titan throws him against the wall.

But the amalgamation of his friend and an all-powerful being looks confused, so props for his genius best friend.

Kronos shows them a rainbow message of Typhon - and that's where Perseus it's pretty sure he starts liking his father.

Because the Lord of the Dead opens up the earth and gets out in a black chariot guided by skeletal horses like a king. By his right side, is Persephone, in armor battle as a queen should be. By his left, is Demeter, who looks every single bit like the matron she is supposed to be.

Behind him, a hundred thousand dead roars. Charon is mounting Cerberus - and literal hell is unleashed upon the Father of Monsters.

The gods strike down Typhon, sending him back to be locked away - this time, in the depths of Tartarus instead of Mount Etna.

Kronos gets mad. Utterly, undoubtedly mad. He talks about burning Luke's body. Then he hurts Annabeth and breaks two promises in one fell swoop.

"Luke.... remember family" It's what Annabeth utters, but Perseus, already certain of their own demise, is crying now.

"That summer Luke, you promised to never hurt her again. You remember it? YOU PROMISED LUKE!!"

Annabeth's promise was already broken - he had hurt her, all those years ago, in Mt. Othrys. But the promise he made to Percy - that he would never hurt her again - is new and broken, in the river Styx no less.

Luke regains his own body, for a minute, and Perseus runs to him like a man in a desert with no water.

"Please, please tell me there's a way to undo this, Luke, please, please"

"There isn't one, Percy" And it's the first time he hears Luke call him Percy, Percy and not Perseus, in his own voice, in two years. Percy cries.

"We... we don't have much time, hellebore. Give me Annabeth's dagger. Before he... before he takes back"

Luke calls him hellebore and it makes him start crying all over again. He gives him the dagger - and Luke kills himself, taking Kronos out with him.

Luke doesn't need to ask if Percy has ever loved him - Percy kept loving Luke, one-sided as it was, even when Kronos was there.

He still crying over Luke's body when the gods arrive. Luke is dead. Ethan is dead. Silena is dead. Michael Yew is dead. Charles is dead.

He lost three of his best friends in two days. Ethan is dead. Luke is dead. Luke is dead.

Perseus can't stop crying. They take Luke's body away - but he can't stop. Annabeth explains what happened to the gods - most of it, anyway. Apollo says he is in shock - his father says he is a hero.

Perseus doesn't feel like a hero. Was this all worth it? Was it worth it the pain and the death and the suffering?

Persephone touches him - and he has no tears to cry anymore. She can't hug him here, but she'll do so later.

He stares at the walls, listening to his friends being awarded - compensated by their siblings and friends' deaths - with a blank stare. Perseus wants his mom.

They call for him. He raised his head but doesn't bother getting up. He just saved their asses - for the fifth time in a roll. He deserves to grieve.

They offer him immortality. A place between the gods.

He laughs. Zeus looks murderous, but he can't stop laughing.

"My apologies, but I have to refuse," he says. But in his mind, he is thinking about how could they even think he might want to sit between them and be an all-powerful being, be another god ignoring his children and messing with mortal lives while thousands die for him.

"Promise me, on the river Styx, that you'll give me the wish that I want."

They promise him, that if it's within their capabilities, they shall grant him his wish.

"I wish for every child at the age of twelve to be claimed. I wish for cabins in Camp Half-Blood, for every single minor god, and my own father. I wish for Calypso to be free, and to the demigods from the opposite side of this war to be given amnesty. It's not their fault. It's not any of our faults."

"You dare to-" Zeus begins, but Percy is really tired of Zeus.

"We fought your war, we won your battles. We, the unclaimed and rejected stowaways of Cabin 11. We, the children of minor and Underworld gods. We deserve respect. Just like my father deserves a throne, just like the minor gods deserve justice."

"Don't you fear us?" Athena asks, something weird shining in her eyes.

"I thought I would be dead today. At least if I die now, I'm dying for something I believe in."

It stays unsaid that he doesn't believe in them. The other demigods look at him worried - but he is not afraid of the gods.

They grant his wish. Some of them aren't happy with it, but they have to do it. He meets Calypso at the front gates of Olympus - and her smile can brighten the pits of Tartarus. He sees Alabaster talking with Lou Ellen - they are both crying.

He thinks it's the end - it's not. Thalia tells him Rachel left for Camp in her Pegasus - and his father has lift the curse, the Prophecy is gone, but he fears for his best friend.

Perseus is too tired for shadow travel - he does it anyway. He flickers, but anyway, he is too late.

It works. Rachel - his best friend - is the new Oracle. Someone jokes they can't be together anymore and Rachel lifts an eyebrow.

"We never were. Didn't you see the last few hours?" Well, he did out himself. Mostly - they might say it's just friendship, and he will hate the way they twist it. Luke wasn't a villain, and Perseus isn't a pure hero with a heart of gold.

Perseus is healing from lost love - and Annabeth is too. His crush on her was only a crush, he thinks - She is his best friend first and foremost. They cry together at the bonfire that burns away the shrouds of 43 demigods - from both sides - and 16 hunters of Artemis. Their souls all rest in Elysium now.

Alabaster comes back to Camp and helps his siblings to build the new Cabin for Hecate, full of spelled blocks and magic chimneys. Clovis and Tyene have their hands full with their own cabins - it doesn't help they keep getting sidetracked with naps.

Somehow, Nico, Thalia, and his bond over helping construct Cabin 13 - They are both way too invested in the goth vibe, mostly because Cabin 1 looks like a temple, and Cabin 3 looks like a beach cabin. And both of them are so over it.

Perseus doesn't want a goth cabin - he is fighting against the aesthetic for years - but sometimes, there are no arguments. His Cabin is made of black marble, and there are skulls everywhere, with torches shining with green fire. Outside, at least. Inside, it looks like Persephone's garden, with input from the queen herself. It's ready just shy of the end of summer vacation.

Rachel tells the next Great Prophecy. Perseus isn't such a positive person to think it won't affect him - he hopes at least it'll wait until he is done with High School.

That night, he dreams of the blonde boy again - it's his first night without nightmares since the battle. He has a scar in his lip, and his green eyes pierce Percy's soul. Perseus wonders if they'll ever meet, wonders if this boy is one of the Seven of the Prophecy.

But alas, Perseus lets it go. The summer is over - he is sixteen, somehow. He is alive and going to go back to his mortal life and his junior year, and grief. Not everything is fine - but eventually, it will be.

It's not the end. Not yet.

118 notes · View notes

mczenrath · 3 years

Text

aesthetic.

what are your muse’s aesthetics? bold any which apply to your muse! remember to REPOST! feel free to add to the list!

[ COLORS ] ~ burgundy. red. crimson. scarlet. maroon. mahogany. copper. amber. chocolate. brown. tawny. tan. bronze. brass. orange. gold. saffron. yellow. chartreuse. spring green. lime. mint. green. olive. forest. turquoise. teal. cerulean. blue. navy. cobalt. periwinkle. indigo. pewter. plum. purple. magenta. fuchsia. lilac. lavender. pink. coral. peach. ivory. cream. white. silver. grey. smoke. charcoal. ebony. black. pastels. vibrant. matte. metallic. muted. dark. light.

[ BODY ] ~ mutations. claws. fangs. wings. tails. feathers. webs. spikes. scales. fur. stripes. spots. freckles. acne. bruises. scars. scratches. gashes. lashes. wounds. amputations. burns. brands. teeth. gums. tongues. lips. beards. mustaches. cheeks. noses. ears. eyes. eyelashes. eyebrows. hair. heads. neck. shoulders. collar bones. arms. elbows. wrists. hands. fingers. breast. back. ribs. abs. belly. hips. curves. butts. legs. thighs. knees. shins. ankles. feet. toes. nails. sweat. spit. tears. blood. heart. stomach. lungs. liver. veins. guts. bones. spine. muscle. skin. feline. canine. masculine. feminine.

[ WEAPONS ] ~ bites. fists. kicks. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. bow. crossbow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. bombs. missiles. boomerangs. lethal pets. lasers. canons.

[ MATERIALS ] ~ metal. gold. silver. platinum. pewter. titanium. iron. steel. copper. bronze. brass. tin. bismuth. diamonds. pearls. rubies. garnets. sapphires. emeralds. jade. peridots. alexandrite. opal. topaz. jasper. quartz. rose quartz. smoky quartz. amethyst. citrine. fluorite. amber. malachite. turquoise. lapis lazuli. sodalite. pyrite. labradorite. moonstone. petrified wood. wood. paper. parchment. hemp. canvas. burlap. oils skin. muslin. rayon. faux. wool. fur. lace. leather. skins. suede. corduroy. silk. satin. chiffon. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. rocks. flint. asphalt. brick. granite. marble. dust. rust. glitter. sand. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. nylon. polyester. plastic. glass. porcelain. bone. shells. coral.

[ NATURE ] ~ grass. leaves. trees. bark. flowers. roses. daisies. forget me nots. tulips. lavender. sunflowers. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. roots. ocean. pond. river. stream. waterfall. creek. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. tropical. jungle. marsh. moors. swamp. plains. hills. highlands. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. fire. lava. ice. frost. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. shadow. tornado. hurricane. water spout. thunder. hail. twisters. humidity. dryness.

[ ANIMALS ] ~ birds. penguins. eagles. owls. falcons. vultures. hawks. swans. parrots. parakeets. doves. pigeons. ducks. robins. cardinals. blue jays. bluebirds. blackbirds. crows. ravens. magpies. mockingbirds. flamingos. ostriches. seagulls. albatross. peacocks. condors. finches. pelicans. chickens. geese. quail. bats. sheep. cows. buffalo. deer. hedgehogs. elephants. horses. giraffes. cats. lions. tigers. pumas. cheetahs. jaguars. foxes. dogs. wolves. coyotes. bunnies. mice. rats. monkeys. apes. bears. pandas. polar bears. snakes. iguanas. chameleons. alligators. crocodiles. turtles. lizards. frogs. toads. whales.dolphins. fish. sharks. stingrays. octopus. lobsters. crabs. bugs. spiders. moths. butterflies. flies. maggots. roaches. ladybugs. beetles. cicadas. dragonflies. fleas. termites. leeches. worms. snails. mosquitoes. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. dinosaurs.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] ~ pepper. salt. sugar. honey. syrup. caramel. candy. bubblegum. mints. candy canes. gumdrops. lollipops. chocolate. vanilla. cinnamon. ice cream. cake. cookies. brownies. biscuits. pie. tarts. lemonade. soda. champagne. wine. brandy. rum. whiskey. vodka. tequila. sake. beer. soju. gin. crema de cacao. cocoa. latte. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. fruit. apples. oranges. lemons. cherries. strawberries. blueberries. raspberries. cranberries. watermelons. cantaloupes. bananas. coconuts. grapes. kiwi. pomegranates. tomatoes. vegetables. potatoes. cucumbers. carrots. turnips. onions. leeks. celery. broccoli. cabbages. lettuces. roots. nuts. white meat. red meat. raw meat. veal. pork. chicken. beef. venison. fish. lobster. oysters. pizza. ambrosia. pasta. sandwiches. soup.

[ HOBBIES ] ~ music. piano. flute. woodwinds. whistles. drums. guitar. cello. synthesizer. violin. lute. harp. fiddle. harmonica. trumpet. brass. singing. composing. folk. classical. bluegrass. blues. jazz. big band. pop. country. rock. punk. metal. electronica. hip hop. reggae. ska. rap. vinyl records. cassettes. cds. soundcloud. itunes. spotify. art. sculpting. pottery. painting. watercolour. drawing. pastels. charcoal. sketching. graffiti. printing. inking. collecting. fighting. martial arts. self-defense. boxing. fencing. sumo. wrestling. jousting. paintball. lazer tag. duelling. hunting. fishing. climbing. weight lifting. training. sports. football. football (usa). rugby. baseball. cricket. lacrosse. volleyball. basketball. tennis. badminton. skating. cycling. sailing. swimming. rowing. hiking. running. gymnastics. dancing. ice skating. hockey. reading. writing. cooking. sewing. acting. photography. video games. horseback riding. gardening. smithing. shopping. traveling. movies. theatre, libraries. books. magazines. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. science.

[ STYLE ] ~ nudism. perfume. cologne. piercings. tattoos. henna. body paint. war paint. make up. lipstick. mascara. eyeliner. eye shadow. powder. beauty marks. blush. nail polish. lingerie. fishnet. pantie-hoes. socks. stockings. leggings. long johns. under armor. corsets. sports bras. bustles. camisoles. blouses. button ups. tunics. vests. waistcoats. leather jackets. ponchos. sweaters/jumpers. hoodies. skirts. jeans. kilts. breeches. scarfs. cravats. ascots. belts. sashes. gloves. heels. sandals. platforms. tennis shoes. penny loafers. jordans. slippers. boots. cowboy boots. rain boots. army boots. armor. justaucorps. trench coats. capes. cloaks. burqa. suits. tuxedos. kimonos. saris. sun dresses. gowns. jewelry. earrings. nose rings. lip rings. tongue piercings. belly rings. gauges. eyebrow rings. necklaces. pearl strings. leis. bracelets. bangles. cuffs. watches. friendship bracelets. rings. pendants. lockets. broaches. boutonnieres. pocket watches. cuff links. hats. crowns. circlets. flower crowns. helmets. hijabs. turbans. baseball caps. cowboy hats. brocade. doublet. gorget. bracers. masks. cowls. braces. glasses. sun glasses. eye contacts. pajamas.

[ MISC ] ~ balloons. bubbles. candles. battle. war. diplomacy. peace. money. power. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. sex. hugs. duality. sin. lust. greed. wrath. envy. sloth. gluttony. pride. virtue. chivalry. honor. piety. charity. diligence. chastity. gentleness. aggression. romance. hatred. grief. pity. success. bitterness. sorrow. joy. fear. anger. good. evil. relativity. vampirism. sapphism. life. birth. time. death. illusion. silence.

Tagged stole from: @ababwa Tagging: @direbcrn @sunsreign & anyone else who wants to do iiit

#✸ meme;#✸ aesthetic;#( this was enjoyable c: )

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threeletterslife · 4 years

Text

02 | Illegirl

→ previous | next

→ summary: Excelling in every school subject, acing every math test and conquering the academic world is something you do as easily as breathing. As your residential social outcast nerd, you live rather as a recluse, talking to almost no one except for your dear ol’ cousin and that sweet boy in a few of your classes—Jungkook? was that his name? Befriending your ʰᵒᵗ AP stats teacher was the last thing on your high school senior agenda…

→ genre: 90% fluff, 8% crack, 2% angst | teacher!au & f2l!au

→ warnings: profanity (89% of it is y/n and the other 11% is jimin), very very brief mentions of sexual harassment, making googly eyes over jimin’s rock-hard abs

→ wordcount: 10.4k

You should've known.

You should've known the trip would be shit.

"Jin, I can't believe you brought my bikini!" you yell accusingly, picking up the yellow swimsuit in disdain. "I have two other one-pieces, but no, you just had to pick this one!"

Your cousin doesn't even look at you. "You've got a nice body, own it," he answers, fumbling around to find his own swim trunks.

"Oh my god. I can 'own it' some other time, you know, when Jimin won't be around!"

"Who cares? It's not like you're stripping naked in front of him. It's just a swimsuit, literally designed for wearers to own it," your cousin says, shrugging. "Besides, he's just your teacher."

You scrunch your nose. "And that makes me feel better how?"

"Well, he's just someone who happens to be more knowledgeable than you to teach you a certain subject. No matter," Jin shrugs. "It's not like you two are doing inappropriate things on the side. Oh boy, then that'd be illegal for sure."

You look down at your toes. Wow, I don't feel guilty at all.

Not wanting your cousin to go further, you sigh, biting your tongue, and you take the pretty yellow bikini to the bathroom. How worse can it get?

It was worse.

Way, way, worse. You might even feel faint.

"Dang, Jimin, my boy," Jin catcalls. "Have you been working out?"

Jimin shrugs. "A little."

While you had felt just plain wrong wearing a bikini in front of your teacher, it seemed so that your teacher gave zero fucks about being completely shirtless in front of his student.

You try to look away, but Jimin's well-toned abs are just a tad bit too perfect to not look at. Making sure your cousin and teacher aren't looking, you take a couple of peeks.

"Y/N!" Jin exclaims, causing you to jump. "Why are you still wearing that bathrobe? I told you to own it."

You shake your head. "I'll take it off once we're near the water."

Your cousin rolls his eyes and walks away, figuring your stubborn personality won't bend to his simple suggestion. You take this opportunity to sneak another look at your teacher's abs, this time, eyes trailing up to look at his face when his wide, chocolate eyes meet yours. You almost let out a loud squeak, blushing while quickly averting your eyes. Had he been looking at you?

Well, shit. This is more awkward than a family dinner. But not that you've ever had one, anyways.

In silence, the three of you walk to the very edge of the wooden walkway which stopped just above five-foot deep ocean water.

"What a beautiful view," Jin says proudly, placing two hands on his hips. "I think I see the fish in there too!" He thinks for a moment. Then without warning, your cousin takes a running leap into the clear waters, bellowing the word: "Cannonball!" at the top of his lungs.

He splashes into the ocean, drenching you and Jimin from head to toe. In fact, you look like you've just gotten out of a bath. "Jin!" you whine, trying to wring the water out of your hair.

"Come in, baby cousin!" he replies, giggling at your annoyed reaction as he starts to backstroke away from the walkway.

You roll your eyes dramatically but obey, cautiously dipping your foot into the seawater. But you get a strange feeling someone is watching you. Whipping your head around, sure enough, you see Jimin staring curiously at you. You raise your eyebrows.

"What?" you say accusingly.

"What?" he says, raising up two hands in defense.

"What?"

"Okay, why were you staring?" you say, cutting off the stupid repartee.

"W-what?" Jimin stutters. "When was I staring?"

You sigh. "You know what? Whatever," you mutter under your breath. Wanting to get away from your teacher as quickly as possible, you peel your drenched bathrobe off your body, flinging it away. Then, as fast-as-lightning, you dive into the ocean.

The cool water envelops your warm skin, welcoming you into the vast sea. You smile to yourself as you feel the minuscule underwater bubbles wrapping around you. For just a few seconds you forget all of your problems as you dolphin-kick further into the tranquil waters. You're almost sad when you're forced to resurface from the lack of oxygen.

Rubbing the saltwater away from your eyes, you open them to see Jimin was already swimming towards Jin, who was yelling and waving his arms around. He reminded you of a panicked mime to be quite honest.

You smile to yourself at the thought.

"I'm coming!" you shout back, diving back under the water again to swim towards your cousin and teacher.

Jin and Jimin are standing around in the ocean when you reach them. And for some reason, with your slightly tired legs, you believed you could as well. Attempting to find the sandy bottom with your feet, you completely forget how short you were compared to the two men.

It happens all too fast when you can't breathe anymore, your face submerged underwater as you fall deeper into the saltwater. In the rather pathetic process, you panic, flailing your arms around in a pitiful attempt to get back up to the surface. But you should've kept your calm—pain shoots up your nostrils when you accidentally take a deep breath through your nose. You hate to admit it, but you might just be drowning.

You don't think the ocean is so beautiful now.

"Y/N!" you hear a muffled scream from above. It's either Jin or Jimin—maybe both, you don't know.

Warm hands wrap around your waist, tugging you back to the surface. Immediately you get into a coughing fit, keeping your eyes squeezed shut as you instinctively wrap your legs around your savior's waist. You choke out more water that had gotten into your system as the person you think is Jin pats your back in an attempt to help, but you swat his hand away.

"No, I'm fine, you don't have to help me! I could've totally handled th—"

You'd opened your eyes. It hadn't been Jin who had been your savior, contrary to your belief. It had been Jimin. You're in his arms, bare stomachs touching, legs wrapped around his waist.

No. NO. NOO.

You gasp, but cough instead. Your face burns, and you don't know if it's from the lack of oxygen or the embarrassment that you're half-naked in your teacher's arms.

God, why the fuck does this shit just happen to me?

You're a choking mess as Jimin attempts to pat your back again. You want to tell him not to touch you, but you're afraid if he doesn't help at the moment, you'll die from choking on water.

It takes a while but you stop coughing, throat very sore. Jimin finally lets you go when you slightly push away from him, your head hanging low in shame. How humiliating.

Jin immediately pulls you into his arms, sweeping away the wet baby hair that was clinging to your forehead. He gives your cheek a little pat. "Stupid," he says, lightly flicking your forehead. "You could've been in some real trouble. Did you really think you were as tall as us?"

"Uh, I hoped?" you answer, eliciting a chuckle from Jimin.

"Why is your baby cousin so much like you?" he says.

"That's 'cause I practically raised her," Jin says proudly, hugging you tightly.

"For the worse," you tease, hitting his chest.

Jin laughs. "Just don't try drowning again, okay? I was actually worried."

"I'm an ace swimmer, I don't drown," you reply, sticking your tongue out at your cousin. "Not usually anyway..." You puff out your cheeks in thought, racking your brain to change the humiliating topic as smoothly as you can. "Well, now, who's up for a game of Marco Polo?"

"Man, that was some fucking dinner," you mumble, laying like a starfish on the comfy bed as you rub your protruding tummy through your white t-shirt. "I look pregnant. And the father is food."

You stifle a small yawn as you turn your head to look out the window. The view really is beautiful. Jin had outdone himself renting this damn nice beach house. The dark, sparkling ocean reflects the shining stars in the sky, and the black outlines of swaying palm trees make you almost taste the salty beach night breeze.

Honestly, you could've drifted off to sleep right then and there. But of course, someone knocks on your door, disturbing you and your food baby.

"Jin?" you call, sitting up on your bed in an unflattering angle (no doubt revealing a double chin).

"Actually, it's Ji—Mr. Park," the familiar voice answers. You should've known that low, silky voice was nothing like your cousin's silvery tone.

Well, fuck.

"Uh, well, sorry. Y/N's occupied at the moment," you lie, lying back down on the bed and praying your teacher would just yeet out.

You can hear Jimin sigh outside your bedroom door. He impatiently knocks on your door again. "Yeah, but Jin's drunk. I came to ask for help."

"Oh my god." You sigh as well, groaning as you get up from your bed. "I told him not to get drunk anymore! I swear he's doing it on purpose now, just to spite me!" You throw open the door, seething with frustration. Big mistake.

"HOLY FUCK!" you shriek, throwing your hands over your poor (or maybe blessed) eyes. "GO PUT ON A DAMN SHIRT!"

There was your teacher, completely shirtless. He's dripping wet (from what you innocently assume is water), and he's definitely not flexing but damn those abs. Jimin runs his hand through his damp, black hair in irritation. "Yeah, I will later, alright? Just... C'mon, Y/N, I really do need your help."

It feels so wrong to stand in front of your shirtless teacher, especially after what had gone down between the two of you. You try your best to keep it professional, making sure your eyes get minimal contact with Jimin's well-defined abs.

"Your cousin's about to pass out in the hot tub, and I think we'd both appreciate it if we got him to bed before he drowns," your teacher continues, running another hand through his black hair as if by habit.

"God, that damn idiot." You shake your head in disapproval as your awkwardly maneuver your way around your unprofessionally dressed teacher. Starting to walk ahead towards the hot tub outside the beach house, you turn around only to ask Jimin a question. "So, did he throw up yet?"

"Not yet, no," Jimin answers, catching up to you. "Take that as a good sign. We should get to him before he decides to turn his insides out."

But you're barely listening to what your teacher's saying. You're just too distracted by the fact that this shirtless man is walking so close to you. So close that his wet skin glides by your dry (lotion lacking) arm every step you take. Your face is probably steaming redder than the spicy chili pepper you'd eaten at dinner.

When you finally get to the nice hot tub, you see your older cousin splashing about in the water. Not only is he acting like he's six, but he's also attempting to doggy paddle around the small tub. You're starting to worry if alcohol can severely kill off brain cells.

"Jin..." you say, lowering your voice in a dangerous whisper. You approach your cousin who was still god forbid playing in the hot tub. "What did I say about drinking?"

At the sound of your voice, your cousin perks up, stopping his atrocious doggy paddling to give you a goofy grin. "Oh, hey, Y/N!" He cranes his neck and squints, looking behind you. "Oh, you brought Jimin! Hey, man, come in!"

You shake your head, mouth set in a stern frown. "What did I say about drinking, Jin?"

Your cousin actually has the nerve to snort at you. "I don't remember."

"That's it!" you roar, pointing accusingly at Jin. "Get out. No one's allowed to go in that hot tub for the rest of the day."

"No!" Jin giggles. He splashes back in the pool, floating on his back. "Can we all acknowledge how nice my boy Jimin's abs are?" Your cousin waves his arms around dramatically, then blows a kiss to the night sky.

"You're drunk," you accuse.

"I am aware~" Jin sings, blowing another damn kiss to the moon.

"Yeah, no. We're getting you out of the tub," you sigh, desperately catching your teacher's eye. "Mr. Park, help!"

You lumber forward, gripping onto Jin's upper half of his body as he flails his arms wildly, nearly missing poking your eyeball out. "Stop it!" you yell, resisting the urge to wack his across the head. "I'm trying to help you, alright? Look, you're getting me wet!"

Jimin laughs at your helplessness, which earns him a death glare from you. Without another sound, he grabs onto Jin's legs, helping you haul him out of the tub. But the whole process is messy.

Your cousin won't stop flailing around his arms, singing the alphabet backward in a high-pitched, off-tune voice that makes you want to rip out all of your hair strand by strand. You and Jimin try to ignore the chaotic evil that is your cousin, persistently trying to carry him off to his hotel room. "I'm literally going to kill you," you remind Jin every five seconds.

Finally, when you get to your cousin's room, you practically throw him on his bed, shaking the water off of your arms. "Thanks a lot, idiot," you seethe. "My whole shirt is wet!" You try to squeeze the dampness out of the cotton material of your shirt to no avail.

Instead of feeling sorry, Jin just grins mischievously. "What shirt?"

You roll your eyes. "Get some glasses, you dud. Your friend here isn't wearing a shirt, but I am."

Jin giggles. "Nope!"

"Argh!" you scream in exasperation, turning to Jimin as steam practically escapes from your red ears. "Let's go."

But your teacher stays in place, his face slightly red as he turns his back to you. "Uh... he's right," Jimin mutters. "Um... the water... you're um, wearing white..."

Oh fuck.

You don't even want to look down to see what sort of stuff you were revealing. Fast as lightning, you cross your arms over your chest, hoping you didn't flash anything too bad. Then without another word, you attempt to dash out of the room, but someone grabs your wrist, stopping you.

Oh what do you know, it's Jimin.

"Wait, Y/N! We still need to talk, remember?" Jimin protests, averting his eyes from your body as his tight grip slightly loosens on your wrist.

"Goddammit, can it wait until we're both wearing an adequate shirt?!" you shriek, wretching out of your teacher's grasps. "This has to be the worst timing ever!"

"Right, shit. Sorry, you're right," Jimin quickly says, stepping back with a bright red face. "Just... meet me outside. I'll take care of Jin."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you say in haste. "You saw nothing!" Then, you make a mad dash to your room, your face burning from embarrassment and sheer confusion.

The moment you reach your safe place, you collapse on your bed, allowing yourself to take a deep breath. You just can't help but worry. What did your teacher want to talk about? Why here? Why now? He surely didn't remember that day... right?

You almost consider blowing the meeting off but think better of it. It would just create more drama and more things to talk about. So you drag yourself out of bed, forcing your arms to grab a clean t-shirt to change.

It takes a lot of contemplation to leave the privacy and safety of your room. But you finally do, trudging outside to see Jimin was already waiting.

He had slipped on a nice-fitting black shirt over his swim trunks and was running his fingers through his damp hair. What really ticked you off was the fact that he was sitting on the edge of the hot tub, dipping his feet into the warm water.

If you can remember clearly, you'd announced that no one was allowed to be in the hot tub for the rest of the day. But whatever.

You look back at the screen door, actually wondering if you should just leave. You've done nothing wrong... right? But why is your heart beating furiously in your chest? And why the fuck are your armpits accumulating sweat? God, you want to avoid this conversation at all costs. Yet you've avoided it for too long; it had to come sooner or later.

Fuck it.

You take a deep breath, making your way (semi-confidently) over to the hot tub and sitting across from your teacher as you dip your feet in the water as well. But you refuse to look at him.

"Y/N..." Jimin softly says. You grit your teeth, averting your gaze off to the beautiful night sky. Then, it's silent. After a few minutes, you're starting to wonder if the talk will never start, and you'll be able to be in peace.

But no, the silence just has to be interrupted by that darn Jimin. He's chuckling, giving you a non-threatening, almost friendly look.

"Y/N, you went so far to avoid this conversation, you know," your teacher laughs.

No kidding.

"I happen to be very close friends with Mr. Jung, your literature teacher," Jimin says, making your blood run cold. "He assured me you two never had a talk."

Fuck.

"I also happen to be close friends with Namjoon, or Mr. Kim, your philosophy teacher," Jimin continues. "Turns out your class never does projects."

Shit.

"And, Jin booked this trip knowing it wasn't your... er, time of month."

Your ears turn bright red as you look down at your feet in the hot tub. How the fuck are you supposed to react to being completely exposed?

"Y-You know what?" you blurt out. "Let's look at the view! Yeah, the view? Isn't it real nice?" you exclaim overly excitedly, pointing out to the dark waters.

Jimin seems slightly taken aback by your outburst, but nods in agreement. "Yes, well I agree... it's a nice view." He scratches his head awkwardly. "But um, Y/N... This is a bit serious. Can we focus?"

Dammit.

"Y-Yeah... sorry."

"Thank you." Jimin nods curtly. "So um, about last Friday..."

Your eyes bulge out of their sockets as all of your muscles tense up. Nononono, this cannot be happening!

"I just want to tell you that, uh... I'm sorry." Jimin runs his fingers through his hair, awkwardly leaning back on the edge of the hot tub.

"Sorry? Sorry for what?" you ask, frown lines appearing out of confusion.

"For sexually harassing you."

What. WHAT? WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT???? HE REMEMBERED??

"W-What?"

Jimin squirms in his seat. "Please don't make me say it again," he begs. "I'm so sorry I sexually harassed you. I'm so sorry I made you feel uncomfortable in any way. I was drunk, I wasn't thinking straight, I was—"

"Wait, no, that definitely wasn't sexual harassment," you interrupt, shaking your head in disagreement. "Especially not if I kissed back."

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you want to throw yourself into the goddamn ocean. If the situation wasn't bad before, it was bad now.

"I-I mean, you were drunk, Mr. Park," you blubber, trying to save yourself. "It's fine. I wasn't even drunk."

You want to facepalm for the sake of your idiocy.

Jimin's face turns bright red as he shakes his head. "I... lured you," he says as if were admitting a felony. "It wasn't your fault."

"H-How do you know?" you squeak. "I mean, how much do you remember?" Your hands grip the edge of the hot tub, slipping once in a while due to the accumulation of sweat.

"Everything..." Jimin admits. "I remember everything I did and said, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

You can't find your words. But maybe that's a good thing, judging how much of a goddamn blabbermouth you are. Yet you've really got to give it to your teacher. It takes massive guts to apologize for your wrongdoings—especially drunk wrongdoings.

"Can we just," Jimin sighs, "can we just forget it happened?"

You nod your head vigorously without a second thought. But you pause abruptly. "But that's the problem," you say. "How can I forget that my own teacher kissed me and called me pet names?" Sighing, you rub your forehead. Until you realized you fucked up for the billionth time today. "Shit. Sorry. That was not appropriate."

"W-Well, you're not wrong," Jimin mutters, avoiding your eye contact again. "I just get... really tipsy when I'm drunk."

"Yeah, no kidding," you mumble under your breath. "But I really don't think I can promise to forget. I mean, it's hard not to remember something like that... I'm really sorry. I don't think I can do it."

Jimin nods, finally looking up at you to give you a small smile. "Well, same here, Y/N. It's not something that happens every day, at least, I hope not. But whatever you remember from that night, don't take it seriously."

"Of course I won't!" You scoff. "Why would I take it seriously? You were drunk!"

"Well, I dunno, because you uh, kissed back?" Jimin laughs. Then, he stiffens, shaking his head. "Sorry. That was not appropriate."

"Yeah well, you and me both, Mr. Park."

Your teacher laughs again, a sound you're starting to grow quite fond of. "Don't call me Mr. Park, Y/N."

What now.

Jimin stutters, flushing red. "Wait, I mean, don't call me Mr. Park here, like this. Fuck! I mean, just don't call me Mr. Park outside of school. It makes me feel old, you know?"

You chuckle at your teacher's awkwardness that nearly matched your own. "Yeah, that's a good idea," you agree. "I feel awkward every time I say it."

Because it sounds fucking kinky.

Jimin laughs again, releasing a sweet and low noise that makes you smile. "Well, I guess the awaited talk is finally over." He stands up, slipping out of the hot tub. "I hope you accept my apology. Good night, Y/N."

"Accepted. Good night... Jimin."

Usually, you like to wake up on your own time when the birds are chirping and morning sunlight pouring in through your windows. Nothing satisfies you more than rousing from your slumber with your own natural alarm clock. Nothing dissatisfies you more than being awakened from another being.

"Up!" a chirpy voice screams too close to your ear. "Wake up, Y/N!"

Groaning, you turn over to face the loud voice that was bothering you from your peace. Your eyes flutter open to catch a blurry sight of a person, a man. You frown. A few blinks later, the figure is much clearer and portrays an obvious rendition of your goddamn teacher.

BiTch, wHat tHe fUck.

The sight jerks you awake immediately. Gasping unholily, you scramble up, legs tangling up in the sheets in your panic as you try to straighten up your sleep attire and tame your bed hair. "JIMIN?"

A dream? Is this a dream??

Your mind scrambles alike, trying to come up with an explanation as to why your teacher was in your room at this early hour. Oh god, is he drunk again??

"Relax, relax!" Jimin grins, placing a sassy hand on his hip as he stands up straight like the equanimous man that he is. "I know, I know, probably not the most welcoming thing to see when you wake up..." He shrugs. "But Jin threatened to starve me if I didn't wake you up."

No kidding. Imagine partaking in a peaceful slumber only to be awakened by your fucking teacher of all things. Sounds like some kid's nightmare. But then again, Jimin had had no choice. Jin had threatened to starve him, which was never a good sign.

Still, your mind slips back to last night's awkward endeavors. Oh god. You shudder as the memories flood back into your brain. But today's a new day, a fresh, new start to you and Jimin with no past held grudges. Maybe it'll go swell.

"Er... So how's Jin's hangover?" You untangle your legs from the sheets, almost stumbling to get out of bed. Adjusting the ancient t-shirt you've worn for sleepwear for several years too long, you look expectantly at your teacher, who, unlike you, seems outwardly put-together (judging by his clothes).

Jimin chuckles. "Well, he's making himself the hangover breakfast... You know, because he and I both know that I can't cook for shit."

You snort, "Yeah you and me both."

It's actually much easier to slip into a conversation with Jimin after that. Both of you take your time walking to the kitchen for breakfast as the chat becomes more and more relaxing and familiar. Who knew passionate talking about French mathematician René Descartes would open a comfortable morning talk?

All too soon, you're in the kitchen. Jin's humming to himself as he's tending to three different pots and pans, but he perks up and turns around when he hears your footsteps.

He eyes you and Jimin up and down, particularly squinting at the rather sliver gap between the two of you before a grin spreads across his face. "Well," he announces, hands on his hips, "you two seem to be less awkward."

You almost snort out loud, but opt for a quiet, "Yeah, I wonder why."

Next to you, Jimin hears and chuckles. "We just had a little talk, and that seemed to solve everything."

"No biggie," you add, sarcasm sprinkled lightly across your words.

But your cousin doesn't notice it as he wildly claps his hands together like an overenthusiastic seal. "Great! Now that you two are less awkward, we can actually start our vacation!"

You and Jimin exchange nervous looks.

"Oh my god, oh my GOD, OH MY GOD!" you scream bloody murder at the top of your lungs as you struggle to take a deep breath. "Jimin, you're going too fast! Too fast!"

"That's what she said," your cousin snorts, but immediately ducks his head as if he was ashamed of his sudden inappropriate outburst.

"God, Jin. Shut up!" you yell, gripping onto your cousin as if your life depended on it—which it kind of did.

Speedboats have never been your thing. Well, actually, adrenaline rush has never been your thing. Anything going over 50 mph made you feel sick in the stomach and rightfully knocked the wind out of you. In fact, you're highly convinced that you can die sitting in any vehicle moving at rapid speeds.

"Wow, Y/N, didn't know you were such a scaredy-cat," Jimin calls from the front. He turns around slightly to make this comment, chuckling good-heartedly at your rather pathetic state where you're clinging onto your cousin and all. The salty ocean wind righteously muses his shiny, black hair, bringing justice to anyone gazing at him. His bright and beautiful grin paired with his tan, muscular arms could honestly bring world peace if you admit to being dramatic. In fact, his whole body seemed to be radiating, sparkling in the blinding sunlight as small, pearlescent water droplets reflected even more light for you to gratefully perceive.

But wait a minute. This is your teacher you're talking about here. Stop it! You tell yourself. Stop making your teacher sound hotter than he already is!

"So what if I'm a scaredy-cat?!" you bellow, squeezing your eyes shut and tightening your grip on Jin as your hair flies around your head maddeningly.

"So you can't enjoy this lovely boat ride!" Jin screams back, although he's literally right next to you. In the next second, you assume your billowing hair has smacked his face one too many times because your cousin pulls your wind-blown, wavy hair back in a low ponytail. "I swear, these locks of yours have been releasing all havoc on me since the moment we got on! Do you have a hair tie?!"

You don't answer, instead wordlessly jutting out your wrist to offer your cousin one of the four hair ties that were fitted on there. Jin takes his goddamn time choosing a hair tie (even though they're all the identical plain black design) and he takes even more time tugging it off your wrist. Then it takes a whole eon for him to tie your chaotic hair for you, making sure to soothe out all the tangles to give you the best hair-tying experience ever.

As time-consuming the process is, it's comfortable and way less turbulent than what could've been if Jin hadn't helped. It's times like this that makes you wonder where you would be in life without your cousin. You don't even want to answer that, much less list the possibilities.

Your upset stomach seems to wreck you out of your own thoughts. One more second on this boat and I'm going to heave the remains of breakfast.

But lo-and-behold to your utmost gratitude, the speedboat comes into a slow stop. The wind no longer threatens to steal your breath away and the salty fish-feces water no longer splatters dangerously close to your lips. You let out a grateful sigh.

"Is it over?" you ask, finally managing to open your eyes.

"You're acting as if the boat ride was torture," Jin snorts, playfully shoving you.

"It was!!" you insist. "But for real, is it over?"

Jimin chuckles, steering the boat to a shady spot underneath towering trees with lush leaves. "Well, for now, it is."

"What?!"

"See, Y/N," Jin laughs, patting your shoulder, "we still have to go hiking later. We'll relax here for a couple of hours, but ultimately we'll have to take a boat ride back."

"Oh god," you groan, dramatically arching your back and placing a distressed hand on your forehead. With that, you slide down to the bottom of the boat, making yourself comfortable amidst shit-smelling life jackets. "Please wake me up once this trip is over, thank you."

You kind of said that as a joke, but the next thing you know, you've actually fallen asleep.

There's no turning back now. You really do hope your cousin will wake you once you're home.

Okay, so Jin didn't wake you up when the trip was over; you woke up yourself, and you were still clearly in the middle of the vacation.

But soon it dawns on you that there are bigger problems than you not being at home. For starters, you're not walking, but you're somehow moving. It takes another hot second to realize you're on someone's back.

It takes another hot minute to realize your arms are loosely hanging around another's neck, your bare legs wrapped around their waist. This is probably the fastest you've ever shaken off your sleepiness. Only because your mind likes to anticipate the worst, as always.

"JIMIN?!" you shriek, kicking to get off of his back. "Let me go!"

He listens, letting you slide off his back and land (a bit wobbly) on the ground. But when he turns around, it's quite apparent he hadn't been Jimin but quite actually your own cousin.

"Y/N!" Jin sighs. "First off, you've been living with me for so long, but you still can't tell who I am?" he teases, quirking his eyebrow at you. "Second, you can't just try to jump off my back like that! This hike is near a cliff; you could've fallen to your death if you jumped a tad bit later!"

"Besides," a voice chuckles from behind. You whirl around to see Jimin, adjusting his expensive-looking sunglasses as he grins. "What made you think I'd carry you?"

"W-Well..." You stop yourself. Well, it might just be because we've made out before, but haha, no matter right?

"Yeah, anyways," Jin huffs, patting a huge bag, "I've got sunblock, aloe cream, water bottles,..."

Once Jin starts listing the million little things he brought to aide the three of you on the hike, you zone out. The heat of the sun penetrates through the little shade of the leave-less trees, and you can already feel sweat accumulating on your forehead. A bit irritated, you wipe the sweat off on the back of your hand, then wipe the back of your hand on your t-shirt. It's already getting so hot and stuffy. You can't imagine how bad it would be when you're actually out in the open and walking.

It does not sound like music to your ears.

By the time you break from your thoughts, your cousin is still listing the shit he brought. You can't believe your ears. No, you're not going to stand here waiting to drown in a puddle of your own sweat. You're going to get this dumb hike over with—even if you have to get it done alone.

"Yeah, yeah," you quickly interrupt your cousin babbling on about how cool his new hiking shoes are. Jin and Jimin turn to you, looking at you expectantly to say something. So you do. "Yeah, um so... race you!" you yell, whirling around and sprinting towards the narrow ledge of the hiking trail.

"Wait, Y/N!" you hear your cousin and his friend shout from behind.

You pay no mind, even running faster. If they wanted to tell you to stop, they'd have to catch you first. You'd just be waiting on the other side of the trail, sipping on ice-cold lemonade from the refreshments stand.

Yeah, you're a math genius. You know very well, too well, that Y/N plus heat equals utter disaster. It's a surefire equation that works every time. And that's what you were wary of before you decided to sprint through the hike—to avoid disaster.

But of course, before you had started sprinting to the end of the hike, you'd forgotten you hadn't gotten that much exercise the past... seventeen years of your life. It's no wonder that your endurance is a big, fat zero. You've been running, lightning-speed, for only seven minutes but you're heaving for breath.

You realize at that moment, with a heavy heart, that you cannot go on like this. If Jin found out you fainted from dehydration and fell off the cliff, he'd pull up your body to murder you all over again. For being reckless and stupid, that is. You have no choice but to stop running.

Your legs feel like jelly as you wobble your way over to some rocks before collapsing on them. The jagged surface digs behind your back, but it's the least of your worries. You squint, shielding your eyes from the scorching sunlight. Damn. Looks like none of your trip companions had taken the race seriously. They hadn't even tried to catch up to y—

"Y/N!"

Oh, nevermind.

"Y/N!" the voice shrieks again. It takes you two seconds to realize that's not Jin's voice. Which leaves Jimin as the culprit.

Quickly, you try to look less, for the lack of better word choice, dead. You try to wipe the sweat running down your face and fix your hair before sitting upon the rock. Just in time, Jimin comes into view, holding an ice-cold water bottle in his hand.

"What on earth, Y/N! You're a fast runner!" he wheezes, nearly toppling over as he collapses on the rock next to you. He breathes as heavily as you are, running a hand through his wet hair. "Do you need water?"

You nod gladly and wordlessly, mouth completely parched. Jimin's hand juts out as he hands you the water bottle, and you take it gratefully. Uncapping the bottle, you take a nice, long birdy, relishing at the moment as the cool water hits the back of your throat. When you finish, you wipe the excess water trickling down the corners of your lips with the back of your hand, and you hand the water bottle back to Jimin. Your eyes enlarge as he uncaps it swiftly and takes a large swig, pressing his lips to the bottle's opening.

Okay. Never would you have thought you'd be sharing a water bottle with your teacher. That was something new.

There's a bit of awkward silence as both you and Jimin catch your breaths in the torrid heat of the afternoon. You jump when Jimin chuckles, breaking the moment of silence.

"Y/N," he laughs, "I'm not sure you understand what hiking is."

You make a face. Hiking? You would look up the exact definition if you could (just to double-check), but you're pretty sure there's no wifi around here. So you go with the definition you previously had in your head. "Isn't it just walking in nature?"

Jimin shrugs. "Well, yeah, but you have to admire the nature too. Jin's kinda pissed 'cause he thought we'd take our time hiking the trail, but you just ran off."

Oh no. Pissed Jin was not a good sign. "Shit," you mutter underneath your breath. "Where is he?"

"Fortunately for you, he's really far back." Your teacher adjusts his sunglasses and smiles. "You know your cousin, he hates not admiring anything. We'd be lucky if he even finishes the trail."

You laugh, nodding. "Accurate! Do you understand the struggle of having to wait for him to finish up in the bathroom in the morning? He can spend three hours looking at his reflection in the mirror!"

"That sounds like Seokjin, alright," Jimin snorts, shaking his head. "Do you think he'll spare us this time and make it quick?"

"Yikes, I really don't know," you sigh. "Maybe we should go back for him?"

Your teacher cocks an eyebrow. "You think?"

"No, not really." You shrug, stretching out your arms before grinning mischievously. "Let's let him catch up himself."

"Exactly what I was thinking."

You and your teacher quietly wait for your cousin to show up. But you should've known Jin, that slowpoke, would take forever. The hot sun beats down on you and you realize you didn't even put on sunblock—you had run off before Jin reminded you with his motherly instincts.

Hot sweat trickles down the back of your neck and you flinch.

I fucking swear if I can feel my own sweat trickling down my neck again I will flip.

You sigh. You know you need a good distraction... maybe talking will help? You desperately turn your head towards your teacher who looks as just as about done as you are.

His black hair is shimmering from his own sweat as his cheeks are flushed red from the heat; you spy a drop of sweat rolling down his neck and disappearing behind his loose t-shirt.

It's a good sign to start talking.

"Sooo," you start, Jimin turning his head towards you. "Tell me again why you became a math teacher?" you ask, wiping away a drop of sweat before it could roll down your neck.

"Because I like math," Jimin shrugs, pulling on his t-shirt and letting it go repeatedly to fan himself.

You're persistent, not taking a simple reply as an answer. "But why did you decide to teach high schoolers?"

Jimin turns to you fully, looking off into the distance as if he were thinking. "Well, elementary kids are too young to understand the type of math I like, junior high kids get annoying, college kids think they're the shit. High schoolers are perfect, er... or they fit me," Jimin says. "I probably shouldn't say that though. I could offend a whole bunch of people."

You laugh. "I'm not offended; I'm in high school. How'd you get a job so quickly? Aren't you still pretty young?" you continue to ask.

"Well," Jimin pauses. "I don't want to brag or anything, but I'm a math whiz," he says, throwing his head back and grinning at you.

"That was bragging," you mutter under your breath. "Straight up bragging."

Jimin pretends like he didn't hear you. "Any more questions?" Jimin asks sarcastically. "Hey, how about this—we take turns. You ask, then I ask."

"What? Why?" you whine. You didn't want to answer questions about your own private life, your plan to keep your distracted had blown up in your face.

"So I can get to know you too," Jimin replies.

"And we have to answer?"

"Yup."

"Okay, fine," you say. "When did you meet Jin?"

"When he came to school," Jimin simply says. "My turn."

"What no!" you whine. "That's a no-brainer answer, even I could've given an answer like that. I meant like around what time?"

"Uh..." Jimin hesitates, seemingly doing the math inside his head. "Well I knew he existed and everything but we didn't become close until around three months ago," Jimin estimates.

"Oh, I see," you say. "Jin doesn't usually bring people home unless they're special."

Jimin smiles, his eyes scrunching up and his soft lips spreading out. You try to look away but the sight is almost addicting.

Stupid Y/N.

"Special aren't I?" Jimin chuckles.

"Don't get too full of yourself," you murmur.

"I won't," Jimin assures you, "now it's my turn. How do you do so well on your math tests all the time? My questions are crazy hard you know, they're designed to trick and challenge."

You scoff, shaking your head disapprovingly. "What a nice teacher. But I tend to study each topic until I completely understand it. Math is simple logic," you shrug. "If you understand a topic completely, no matter how hard a question is, you'll be able to plow through. Good answer?"

"It's a logical answer," Jimin nods.

"My turn. Why did you decide to go on this trip if you knew I was going too?" you inquire.

"Because Jin invited me," Jimin says, but upon seeing your glare, he expounds, "and I can't refuse a nice beach trip. Besides, we're chill, right?" he says. "I hope. After that talk we went through..."

You quickly nod your head. "Yes, whatever, we're chill."

Jimin laughs. "How long have you been living with Jin?"

"Uh... Lemme see. Six, seven years?"

"Why do you live with your cousin?"

"Hey!" you say. "That's two questions."

"Oops," Jimin chuckles. "You go, then."

"Were you a nerd when you were in high school?"

"Is that even a question?" Jimin laughs. "Yes, I guess so. I tried really hard in school."

You nod. "Not surprised."

"Okay, so, why do you live with your cousin?"

Your face falls a bit. "It's kinda complicated," you say. "And lengthy."

"We have time," Jimin says, leaning back.

"Nah, I prefer to skip the question," you say. "We each get one skip," you dictate.

"Yes ma'am," Jimin jokes, saluting you.

You roll your eyes, then grinning evilly. "So, do you usually kiss people when you're drunk?" you ask as innocently as you can.

"Skip!" Jimin exclaims. "Once again, not appropriate!"

"Oh, c'mon, I'm generally curious!"

Jimin shakes his head. "I'm not answering that, Y/N."

"It's a yes or no question," you say.

Jimin laughs. "Still not gonna say a word."

"Fine then," you say. "Do I get another qu—"

"Y/N, you little hog!" Jin screeches from a short distance. You see your raging cousin, face red and blotchy as he clutches onto bundles of what looked like... food. "When I get my hands on you!" your cousin screams.

You look at Jimin frantically. "Should I run?" you ask.

"And risk being killed two times over? Your choice," Jimin answers, laughing.

"Y/N! Just because you're seventeen years old doesn't mean you can just run off whenever without saying anything!" Jin scolds as you sigh. "You could've fallen off the cliff and died! No one could've saved you!"

"I remember I clearly told you that I was gonna race you," you say defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest. "Besides, I'm careful."

Jin groans in frustration. "Are you asking me to ground you?"

Jimin chuckles on the side causing Jin to whirl around, glaring at his friend. "Doesn't Y/N always stay at home? Would it make any difference to ground her?" Jimin says, raising his eyebrows.

Jin sighs, shaking his head and turning to face you again. "Guess you've got a good point, my dude. But Y/N, I'm serious. You're the only family I have and I don't want to lose you. You have to be careful."

"Well you're the only family I have too," you say, rubbing your arm guiltily. "And I am careful!"

"Then can you explain to me why you're sunburned out of this world and why your leg is bleeding?" Jin says.

"Oh," you answer, only realizing the stinging pain of your sunburn and the cut on your leg.

Jimin chuckles from the back again. "Jin, you're literally like her mom."

Jin rolls his eyes. "Y/N, put on that aloe cream. Luckily, I knew you'd get sunburned somehow someway. Lemme get the first aid kit for your cut. God, Y/N, you are so not careful."

"Sorry, mom," you say. "But says the one who drinks and gets wacky."

Lucky for you, Jin doesn't hear as he rummages around Jimin's spacious car for a first aid kit.

You giggle under your breath as you watch Jin who was grumbling about, still searching for some antiseptic and a band-aid. You smile. Your cousin was the mother you've never really had.

Your leg bandaged protectively and your hands full of two jars of Jin's homemade aloe cream, you attempt to clap along with the audience, the jars clinking in response. Your eyes lit up as you watch a spectacular dance performance.

The vibrant colors of the costumes, the dance steps, the partner work were all so beautiful. Just an hour before when Jin had forced you to come to this show and dinner place, you had been quite skeptical, due to your detest of crowded places. But all of that had been replaced with admiration and enjoyment.

As another beautiful dance finished up, you take that moment to look over at your company who look as equally amazed as you are. Jin's clutching on a chicken leg, mouth half-open as he chews absentmindedly, eyes glued to the stage. Jimin's forgotten his food as his full attention is on the beautiful figures moving their bodies gracefully to the beat of the music.

You smile.

"Thank you!" one of the dancers says breathily, holding the microphone with both hands. He grins at the audience. "I think that's enough dancing for us tonight!" he exclaims, pointing to his fellow dancer friends behind him. "But maybe the crowd can have some fun now!"

A loud cheer erupts from the pleased crowd as people start to stand up, already getting ready to dance their hearts out on the beautifully lit stage.

The dancer with the mic laughs. "We'll clear the stage and then it'll all be yours. Cue the music!"

Bright, bubbly music rings from the large speakers as people follow the music up to the stage. And they dance.

You watch as Jin finishes the last of his chicken leg and turns to you and Jimin. "Wanna dance?"

"Oh yes," Jimin says, his eyes sparkling in excitement.

"Oh no," you say. "I like watching dancing, but not doing it."

Jin rolls his eyes. "You can watch yourself dancing then."

Without another word of argument Jin drags you on the stage, Jimin close by. The stage is way too crowded for your liking and the once happy-sounding music sounds like some kind of buffalo rampage.

But when Jin starts to dance, you can't help but forget all the uncomfortableness, that being replaced by laughter. Boy did Jin dance funny.

"You're doing great, Jinnie!" Jimin screams over the music as he busts out some moves himself.

Your eyes widen in shock as you see the way your teacher moves. He's graceful, his body moving smoothly with the music—as if the music was controlling his body—or no, as if his body was controlling the music.

"Y/N! Dance with me!" Jin yells in your ear as he takes both your hands and spins you around goofily.

"God, Jin, slow down!" you shriek as Jin moves your arms around to the beat of the music like you were his puppet. You're afraid you look like a dancing ragged doll at the moment.

But after a while, the worries go away and they're replaced with enthusiasm and joy.

"Whoo!" you scream as you dance like a madwoman. You're pretty sure Jin's already tired, he's lagging behind you, his limbs moving slower than before.

And just as expected, only several minutes later, you feel Jin grasp your shoulder. "Hey, Y/N!" he yells over the music. "I'm gonna go down and sit. I shouldn't be moving around so much after all that chicken I ate!" Then, your cousin turns to Jimin. "You better take care of her while I'm gone!"

You see Jimin nod out of the corner of your eye as you continue to dance your heart out.

But almost as soon as Jin leaves the stage, the bouncing music halts and other than you, twenty other people groan in complaint.

"C'mon! Mid-song? Really?" you whine, throwing up your arms, others around you causing a bigger tantrum.

Jimin quickly comes over to you, softly placing a protective hand on the small of your back. Your cheeks heat up slightly but then you remember Jin had practically ordered Jimin to take care of you. Your teacher doesn't take his hand off of your back and you think it's so you'd stay together if some kind of mob madness were to break out. But the madness never comes. Instead, the music turns back on—except it's slow and romantic.

Ohhhh no.

"Grab a partner everyone! It's time for some loOove!" a dancer announces into the mic. And as quick as lightning half the people on the stage left while the other half stays behind to find partners. You want to leave.

"Uh, Jimin, I think I'm just gonna leave now," you say as Jimin nods, leading the way out of the sea of moving people, his warm hand still placed on your back, guiding you. But as you were about to take another step forward, some large, buff guy walks right in front of you, blocking your path.

"Dance with me," he laughs, scratching his messy beard. You swear you see old pizza scraps in that thing. "C'mon, pretty lady," he coos, grinning as you spot pieces of lettuce and beef stuck between his teeth.

Shrinking back and trying to find the best way to nicely reject this man, you bump into someone's chest. Looking up, you see Jimin who enlaces his arm around you.

"Sorry, dude, she's with me," he says.

At this moment, you're so thankful for your teacher you could buy him a whole five-star meal.

"All the pretty ones are always taken," Beard Man sighs. He suddenly leans into you, causing you to act on instinct, gripping Jimin's hand for safety. You don't care if Jimin is your teacher at this point, you're too scared of this creepy guy to care. "If you change your mind about your protective lil boyfriend, I'm always here."

"No, I think I'll stay with my boyfriend, thank you," you say, squeezing Jimin's hand while shaking just slightly. Beard Man was hella intimidating, you had to admit. "Go find prettier ladies to hit on."

Before you can insult Beard Man even more, Jimin takes you by the hand, placing a hand on your waist and starting to move slowly to the romantic beat of the song. Quickly catching on that your teacher wanted you to dance away from Beard Man, you wrap your arms around your his neck as you let him guide you through a series of dance steps.

You don't dare to look up until several minutes later. You're happy to see Beard Man is gone, probably bothering some other poor, unfortunate girls. You relax your tense arms, still keeping them secured around your teacher's neck.

"I don't know why but that guy scared the living shit out of me," you confess, chuckling slightly. "Thanks for saving me, by the way."

"No problem. He was on something," Jimin answers, twirling you around slowly to the music.

"He had a plan?" you ask innocently as your teacher catches your waist and brings you back close to his arms.

"You're kidding, right?" Jimin says. "He was on drugs."

"Huh?" Your eyes open in shock. "Is that what that nasty smell was? I thought it was the rotting food in his beard."

Jimin nods. "And his eyes were all red too." Jimin shakes his head then smiles.

"Well, don't tell Jin about this," you say. "He'd try to murder the guy if he hears. And plus he probably won't even let me out of the house again because 'it's for your safety,' " you quote in a mocking voice. "I don't want my only friend to go to jail."

Your teacher raises his eyebrows. "Don't tell Jin? What makes you think I'd listen to you?" he teases lightly.

Offended, you scoff. "Because...?" You really don't have a reason.

Jimin laughs. "I'm just kidding, Y/N, I won't tell Jin, you can trust me."

You glare at your teacher as he innocently smiles at you, still leading you through the slow dance.

From afar you can see Jin, smiling from your table as he holds up his phone. He sure hella looks like he's recording you and Jimin dancing.

Wait a minute. Since when was I dancing with my fucking teacher?!

Quickly, you pull away from Jimin, face blushing red. Why didn't you feel weird while dancing with him? Why did it only occur to you now that this was... awkward? Weird? Illegal???

Jimin stares at you curiously as you look away in an attempt to hide your flushed face. "Are you tired? Do you want to go back?"

You nod your head. "Yeah, I think I need more food," you say, rubbing your belly convincingly.

Your teacher laughs. "I think you always need more food."

"You know me well, Jimin."

"Are you sure you don't wanna come in?" Jin asks, putting an arm around you as you both sink into the hot tub.

"I'm a bit busy, sorry," Jimin says as he flips his hair back, giving your cousin a sorry smile.

"I can't believe you brought work stuff on a vacation," Jin sighs as he flicks water at your teacher.

"Hey! Stop it!" Jimin cries as he swats the water away from his papers. "I'm grading quizzes!"

You perk up. "Did you grade mine yet?"

"Yes," Jimin says as he goes back to looking at his quizzes, marking a question wrong every so often (often as in every second).

"So?" you ask. "Did I do well?"

"Is that even a question Y/N?" Jimin laughs as his rings clink together when he turns to you. "You always do well so what's the surprise there?"

Jin smiles, patting your head. "That's my girl," he says. "You got your smarts from me."

You make a silly face. "I did? That'd be pretty unfortunate," you say as Jin splashes water at you. "Hey!" you yell. "You're lucky that dirty water didn't get in my mouth! Or else you would've been dead!"

Jimin chuckles. "Ah, god, you guys are making it too hard for me to keep working." He sighs as he sets off his quizzes to the side. "I'm coming in."

Your teacher starts to walk towards the hot tub as you quickly hide behind your cousin for your modesty; you were wearing that yellow bikini. You sneak a peek as Jimin throws off his t-shirt to the side and carefully climbs in the tub.

Hard abs... what the fuck Y/N. Stop!

"Ah," Jimin sighs as he glides into the tub. "I should've done this from the start."

"That's what I've been telling you, dude," Jin says. "And Y/N, stop clinging onto me like a monkey!"

"Will you stop comparing me with animals? First a hog and now a monkey!" you screech.

"You just sounded like a bird," Jimin laughs as he gives you a knowing look.

"What the hell?" you shout as you throw up your hands. "You guys are so mean to me!"

"You know I love you, Y/N," Jin says as he tugs you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

"I would say the same thing, but it wouldn't sound right," Jimin shrugs as he chuckles, watching you and your cousin hug it out.

"Yeah, no kidding," you mutter under your breath as Jin laughs heartily.

"Anyone up for some ice cream?" Jin asks as he starts to stand up from the tub. You try to tug him back down because he was your only shield covering your body from your teacher.

"Sure," Jimin says, leaning back. "Y/N? Ice cream?"

You sigh. "Ugh, okay. Hurry up, though, thanks."

"What an ungrateful brat," Jin teases you, pinching your cheeks. He flings his t-shirt over to you as he leaves. "Wear that if you're uncomfortable."

You thankfully pull the shirt over your head and tug it down to cover your whole body. Then, you turn to your teacher, newly assured to have your swimsuit covered up. "So... do you like the trip?" you ask as you settle down.

"So far it's great," Jimin answers as he stretches back. "It's a great break from my job."

"Job addicted much?" you tease, mercilessly.

"More or less," Jimin shrugs. "Or I want to succeed in life, unlike some other people." He gives you a mocking look.

"Excuse me, Jimin, but I have over a hundred in half of my classes," you say proudly. "I think I'll succeed."

"What a smartass," he chuckles, flicking water at you. "Teachers should stop having extra credit opportunities."

You huff, splashing your teacher with water, specifically aiming for his hair.

"Hey!" he shouts. "Not the hair!"

"Yes, especially the hair!" you shout back as you splash him with water again.

"Oh, it's on Y/N," Jimin yells as he sends you a huge wave of water that hits you smack in the face.

"Oh you lil—"

"Careful, Y/N, I'm still your teacher," Jimin teases as he flicks water at you again.

"Careful, Jimin, you still harassed me,” you tease right back.

"Harassed?" Jin asks as he slips into the hot tub with two buckets of ice cream. "What's that about?"

You and Jimin both jump, not hearing Jin walking in.

"Harassed? Who said anything about harassed?" you quickly say out of panic. But you're basically the worst liar in the history of worst liars.

"I literally... heard you," Jin says suspiciously.

Jimin sighs. "I was harassing her," he pauses as your eyes widen and your heart drops, "with water." You lean back and sigh in relief.

Jin takes a look at Jimin's soaked hair and your soaked face. "You two..." he sighs, mock-shaking his head. "Whatever. Have some ice cream, dorks."

Your trip to the beach with your teacher and your cousin wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. In fact, you thought it had been eventful and fun. To your surprise, you and Jimin had been able to get along quite smoothly despite your rough or er... heated start. By the end of the trip, both of you had basically made a joke out of the drunk make-out session, as if it weren't much of a deal anymore.

Still, you didn't know if you'd roll so smoothly in school.

When you walk into your math class, you glance at Jimin but look away quickly before he sees you. Sliding into your seat and taking out your pencil case, you keep your head low and watch the feet of your classmates scurry on into class.

As soon as the bell rings, you see from out of the corner of your eye, Jimin standing up. "I've graded your quizzes," he announces.

A collection of loud groans echo throughout the classroom.

"Y/N's probably the highest score again," someone whines.

"How'd you guess?" Jimin jokes, handing you your quiz back. And sure enough, a big, fat 100 is circled in the very front. Your quiz looks the same as you turned it in.

You take short glimpses of the other quizzes as your teacher passes them out and shrink back in shock.

There are more red marks than the white paper itself on most of them. Your classmates literally look like all the energy had been drained from them as they clutch their quizzes in shock.

"It was a hard one wasn't it?" Jimin says as he walks to the front of the class.

You're in shock. You thought it wasn't that bad.

"I'll curve the quiz," Jimin says. The whole class cheers as you smile too. That'd make you get over 100% again. "Now all of you can spend the rest of class correcting your quizzes," Jimin announces. "Ask each other for help. I'll be at my desk if you have any questions."

As soon as Jimin turns and walks to his desk, your classmates jump out of their seats and run to the back of the classroom, giggling and shrieking about their quiz scores. You're never a part of this.

Maybe because you don't have anything to correct, but also because you don't fit in—and you don't want to.

You turn over your quiz to hide your score and set it aside. Then, you take out the homework you've already accumulated from your earlier classes; you start to work. About thirty minutes in, you decide to take a small break and lean back, stretching your neck and back.

You look up slightly to see that Jimin was watching you. Cocking your head, you watch as Jimin gives you a small smile. You smile back, nodding your head slightly.

You guess it isn't that awkward. At least... not anymore.

When the bell rings, Jimin stands in front of the classroom door and collects the quizzes. You're always the last one out—mostly because your classmates practically fly out of class as soon as the bell rings.

Jimin takes your quiz off your hands and smiles. "Hey, nice job on the quiz," he says. "Have a good lunch, Y/N."

"Thanks," you reply. "You have a good lunch too."

If only he knew you ate alone.

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—masterlist

#jimin #park jimin #jimin fanfiction #jimin imagine #bts #bts fanfiction #jimin fluff #jimin angst #teacher au #jimin fanfic #illegirl

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