#GIRL HE'S NOT EVEN FRENCH WHY DOES HE GET TO BE HERE ToT

[cor-lapis]

demo of all time

[thefudge]

Do you have any Romanian (language or just content-wise) media recs? Particularly novels and poetry but really any must-sees/must-reads are welcome!

uuuu! 

my brain is too fried right now to do any kind of exhaustive list so i’m gonna rec a few things that i know you could get your hands on/available in translation:

for two thousand years, by mihail sebastian - really heartbreaking yet also lucid, adventurous and darkly humorous memoir of a Jewish writer in his youth at the height of nazism in romania (there’s even a Penguin classic of it)

diary of a short-sighted adolescent by mircea eliade - a funny and bittersweet bildungsroman about a bookish teenager who wants to read everything now and be the cleverest person alive while also struggling with being super lazy and unmotivated because he’s young and restless, it’s very #relatable. but it’s also fascinating to read this in opposition with “for two thousand years” because eliade entertained legionnaire nazi sympathies at one point. (also, you should check out his novellas too, especially the fantastic ones)

anything you can find in translation by gabriela adamesteanu - just lovely, delicate prose about growing up, being an adult, inhabiting your body and your feelings in an oppressive world 

the hatchet by mihail sadoveanu (apparently, there is a translation) - a lot of people give this novel flak, mostly because we had to read it in high school, but it’s a great and deceptively simple little novel that says a lot more about people than it cares to admit. the action takes you through several villages in the East-Carpathians, where a peasant woman goes in search of her missing husband. it’s a fascinating mixture of crime and folklore and mythology. 

any novella by costache negruzzi, but especially “alexandru lapusneanu”, another classic we had to read in school and which gets a lot of flak. it’s so bonkers and #quality-trash. let’s just say there’s a scene where the power-hungry voievod/prince lapusneanu enacts a red-wedding situation and builds a pyramid of freshly severed heads to impress his lady wife *swoon* 

the forest of the hanged by liviu rebreanu - i know people argue this isn’t his best novel, but it’s got the most heart. it’s the story of a soldier/philosopher in WW1 who falls in love with people again. that’s it. he falls in love with people, and the war and everything in between doesn’t matter anymore. or it matters only as it pertains to people, and people alone. 

gallants of the old court by mateiu caragiale - a bizarre gem of early 20th century Romanian nightlife, a wonderful, orgiastic fugue, feverish and infuriating. it’s mostly about rich men and social-climbers getting into existential trouble, but also into real trouble. normally, because the action takes place right before WW1, this would signify the end of an era. but we don’t really have a beginning or end. we are part-balkan, part-french imitators, part-whatever-sticks. nothing moves us, and everything does. and that’s why it’s a sort of love/hate letter to romanians 

in terms of poetry, some personal faves:  nichita stanescu, ana blandiana, monica pillat, marin sorescu,  a.e. baconsky, lucian blaga, emil brumaru, nora iuga, marta petreu, nina cassian. and yes, mihai eminescu, our national poet, though i’m often in two minds about him.  

poetry in translation is really hit and miss because of the “untranslatable”, so here’s two lines from a poem by nina cassian, because i want to show you what i mean:

            De când m-ai părăsit mă fac tot mai frumoasă             ca hoitul luminând în întuneric. 

this roughly and poetically translates to:

          Since you left me I’ve grown more beautiful

           like the corpse lighting the dark 

and this is sort of lovely on its own, but you’d need to know and hear and taste the word “hoit” in romanian to really feel the abjectness, because “hoit” is a smelly, ugly yet also alluring, already decomposing version of “cadavru” aka cadaver/corpse. also “ mă fac tot mai frumoasă” cannot be accurately summed up in “i’ve grown more beautiful”. a literal translation would be “I make myself more beautiful”. in romanian, this is obviously idiomatic and not literal. and yet, these strange self-reflexive valences make these lines strong and eerie, as if the speaker were authoring her beauty, shaping it out of clay and darkness and “hoit”,  like a butterfly cracking the corpse’s shell to get out, but also retaining some of its mesmerizing stench. why did i pause to do a close-reading of romanian poetry??? anyway, you catch my drift

in terms of movies, a recent one i really loved was sierranevada by cristi puiu, which is a neurotic family drama that drains you but also lifts you up 

and yeah, the hype is real, 4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days by cristi mungiu really is that good (about two young women trying to get an illegal abortion in communist romania. it won the palme d’or for very legit reasons. it breaks you in small ways. the very last shot of the film you’ll carry with you forever). i also liked graduation by cristi mungiu, where a young overachieving girl is about to graduate high school and go on to study abroad, until a terrible event unmoors both her and her family. the movie turns almost hallucinatory at one point, filled with ambiguity and a kind of sleep-walking quality 

tales from the golden age by cristi mungiu (him again!) is also fantastic for anyone who wants to get a taste of communist romania and the sad-funny absurdities of everyday life. this movie is split in 2 parts and the format is that of an anthology, almost like watching several short films at once. and there is one film in the anthology that always turns me inside out, and it’s really silly, it’s this bonnie and clyde type story about this girl and boy who meet at a party and devise an ingenious get-rich scam and just run around a few neighborhoods trying to put it into practice and it’s...the sweetest, most incomplete thing. there is such a strange, lovely connection there that never gets realized, and there is a MOMENT between them where he helps her step down from this ledge and he holds her briefly to him and i remember being in the cinema and thinking THIS, this is THE MOMENT where i felt these people were real. it was such an honest, lovely moment. like the equivalent of this song. ANYWAY, why am i rambling so much??? this ask was supposed to be SHORT. 

aferim! by radu jude is also a really neat movie and provides a look into the historical romanian/rroma relationship and why it’s so messed up, yet also so organic

the death of mr. lazarescu by cristi puiu is also a great little film about a man who gets sick and goes to the hospital. and...dies, as you can tell from the title. on the surface, he dies because of institutional ineptness and a broken healthcare system. at a deeper level, he dies because we no longer know how to help people. various hospital staff in the film do try to help him and fail for various stupid or quietly heartbreaking reasons. it’s a movie about being physically unable to care. there’s indifference, sure, but also this great exhaustion of the human spirit. but the movie is also darkly funny. might not be a great pandemic watch, but then again it might be exactly what you need 

there are soooo many other classics in terms of books (morometii by marin preda, for instance, about a patriarch in a small village in the South who slowly realizes the world he used to live in doesn’t have room for him anymore, and maybe it never had) but i’m gonna end on a quote from ion creanga, one of the most cryptic classics of romanian lit:

“Şi eu eram vesel ca vremea cea mai bună şi şturlubatic şi copilăros ca vântul în tulburea sa”

my translation: “and I was cheerful like the best weather and frolicsome and childish like the wind in its cloudiness” 

and again, the words in romanian and their particular sound and bite (”şturlubatic”, “tulburea”) immediately take me elsewhere. creanga writes about childhood, but it’s never really childhood. he writes as an adult who, in my opinion, was never really a child, but a weird, small god of the land. i mean the word “tulburea” can mean both “turmoil” and “muddiness”. the wind can be anguished, but also just a little cloudy, just a little hazy, shrinking its agony, howling it in the child. it’s eerie and gorgeous. so, that’s what he does: creanga writes about children as if they were wind-like spirits. he writes stories about devils and the peasants who trick them and school books filled with spit and flies, and warm eggs stolen from nests and fairy-tales of a world that is buried somewhere inside us, but not too deep, things hidden under our clothes or nails or even in our hair. and it’s all so physical and convoluted, just like his prose. and i don’t think anyone will ever make sense of him and that’s what makes him so discombobulatingly great.

anyway, this was supposed to be...like, really short! and not gassy! i’m sorry. i love waxing about all this gay stuff. i’m so gay about it. 

realistically tho, the nearest thing you’ll find in your local bookshop is probably books by famous ‘theater of the absurd’ playwright, eugen ionesco, or novels in translation by contemporary author mircea cartarescu. both are pretty good, so go for it! (if you want to start small, i’d recommend REM by mircea cartarescu, because it’s so trippy and meta and captures that summer holiday eeriness so well. it goes well with this romanian song sung in english)

okay byeeeee 

[ellewritessometimes]

It’s a Gift

Summary:  Cas and Dean have become very close. Dean develops a crush and is afraid to say anything. He continues to fall harder as the days go on. As the Valentine's Day party approaches, Dean wonders if he'll share the secret he's been harboring.

Ships: Dean/Cas, Crobby

Word Count:  3,552

TW: Mentions of violence and Homophobia, Swearing

Notes:  This is a work from an abandoned Valentine's Day group writing project. I decided to post it still because I worked hard on it and I wanted the original intended recipient to get their fic as planned. I want to thank Luc for allowing me to reach out to them and @kermit-drinking-tea-dot-jpg for betaing this fic.

Link to read on AO3

The smell of greasy tater tots and dry nuggets wafted through the cafeteria as I walked in and took my seat at the table. The rest of the team sat down as well.

"Does anyone have a date for Valentine's party tomorrow?" Garth asked.

"I'm sure Sam will be my date," Gabe smirked. The guy was kinda obsessed with my brother.

Garth rolled his eyes and continued to take a bite of his chicken patty. I turned the page of my notebook, trying to decode my notes from last week. 

"Shit," I mumbled under my breath.

"What?" Gabe asked with a mouth full of french fries.

"I can't read my notes, and the test is next period," I said in frustration. I had scrawled them down distractedly during the class.

"Would you like to borrow mine?" Cas asked. 

Of course, I would like to borrow Cas's notes. He was a great student, always crazy organized.

Cas slid a spiral-bound notebook with perfect notes written in blue gel pen. The lettering looked like a font. I could never be like this. I could never sit still for that long. Oh, to be like Cas; Quarterback, Captain of the Football team, debate mentor, NHS, he really had it all. I was just a linebacker struggling to remember physics. God, Dad, is gonna kill me.

"Thanks, man," There was relief in my voice. Maybe I'd pass. A.P. Physics is not the move when you're a dumbass.

Cas smiled and picked up his book, On the Road. I've never seen him eat during school. He's always reading, helping us with homework, or keeping Gabe and Garth out of trouble. 

The bell rang, so I handed Cas his notebook back. He winked, and I felt my heart pound. I'm sure he was just saying ‘you're welcome’.

* * *

Mr. Crowley handed out the test, and I inhaled deeply. I can't do this. I can't do this. 

Cas looked toward me and mouthed, "Are you ok?" 

I shook my head. The little shit winked again and raised his hand.

"Mr. Crowley, I think Dean is going to be ill," Cas fibbed, "I should take him to the nurse just to be sure."

"We wouldn't want that. Take him to the nurse," Mr. Crowley gave him the ok.

Cas and I walked out of the classroom and into the hallway. Cas gestured to me to follow him. He led me into an empty classroom and shut the door.

 He set his notebook and pencil down on a desk and bluntly said, "Sit."

I did as I was told. I watched him write a kinematic equation on a fresh sheet.

"What do you know?" Cas asked.

"Nothing."

"I don't believe that."

"I'm a dumbass," I shrugged.

He tilted his head, and I noticed a change in his eyes. 

"You don't believe you deserved to be helped," He stated and quickly changed the subject in an attempt to take what he said back. "Let's start easy."

I leaned my head over to see the problem he wrote. A hair fell on my face, and Cas pushed it away. I jumped. Cas jumped as well, startled by my reaction. His disposition changed.

"I'm sorry, I…" His voice trailed off.

"It's fine, Cas." I made an attempt to reassure him.

We moved along with the problem like it never happened. But it did happen. I would feel the touch on my forehead the rest of the day. The way his hand felt, soft and warm against my rough skin. 

We must have done at least 20 problems until I finally felt comfortable doing it independently. The bell rang, and I thanked Cas. He really didn't need to do that. I wasn't shocked that he did though, he always tried to help the guys somehow. The dude's a friggin angel.

* * *

I was distracted all of the football practice.  I was preoccupied thinking about Cas.

"Winchester, get your head in the game!" Coach Bobby yelled out.

I had known Bobby my whole life. He'd been more like a dad than my own blood. He was always there when Dad was deployed, on a hunting trip, or just drunk, unable to take care of Sam and me. Dad was never the most stable person. 

I nodded to Bobby and tried to focus. I'd been meaning to talk to the school counselor about getting me to see a therapist or something to get diagnosed. Bobby and I suspected I had ADHD but we wouldn't know for sure. Unfortunately, I knew that Dad didn't believe in therapy. And anyway, the doctor can't fix it if I'm distracted by Cas. God, the dude can move. His passes are perfect, he makes almost every goal, and his touchdowns are so impressive. God, I sound like I have a crush.

Practice finished, and we all headed to the locker room. Bobby gave a speech.

"We've got an away game tomorrow, folks. I expect the best behavior from you all, or you will not go to the sports Valentine's Day party. I mean it." Bobby continued, "I know that this year has been hard with the Superbowl being delayed due to extenuating circumstances, but I still need you idjits to be good."

"Yes, coach," We deadpanned in unison like cult members. We started exiting the locker room.

"Dean, I would like you to stay," Coach said sternly.

Oh shit. 

Bobby led me to his office and motioned for me to sit in a chair.

"What's up with you, son?" Bobby questioned, "You've got that look, is it a girl? You're not back with Jo, are you? Lisa? Or is it a guy or an enby? You know that I don't care…"

"No, it's no one," I'm such a liar. I've had a crush on Cas since he moved here in fourth grade, and Bobby can see right through my bullshit.

"Bull," Bobby raised his eyebrows.

I shrugged. I couldn't even imagine what dad would say. Actually, I could. It would be to get out of his house and never come back.

"So that's it, you just wanted to be nosey? Besides, it's no one, and dad would never let me." I sighed.

"Don't worry about your old man. I'd take care of it. Mr. King and I always have a place for you and Sam anyway." Bobby was dating Mr. Crowley, no one but Sam and I knew.

I thanked him and left to go pick up Sam from the middle school. Boy, he had grown up so fast. I remembered when he was born. And when mom died.

* * *

I pulled up at the school, music blaring. Sam rushed to my car and opened the door.

"Can you drive me to Jess's house?" Sam asked.

"No, tonight's family dinner night." Dad's A.A. sponsor told him that it was a good idea to start trying to be more of a part of our lives. That started with dinner, I guess.

* * *

Dinner with Dad was painful. Sam and Dad bickered back and forth about every single little thing. Sam wanted to go to college, Dad wanted him to keep up with the family business, then Sam said that hunting and the military don't count as a legacy. I hate it here.

"Sam, give it a rest." I dropped my fork into Cambell's chicken noodle with stars.

"You're not siding with him, are you?" Sam's face was defensive.

"I'm the adult here." Dad slurred.

"A half of one at best," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that, boy?" Dad's face had that look I didn't like.

"Nothing, sir," I was trying not to get killed.

Creak. Dad slid his chair back and walked over to me. As he hovered over my head, my heart dropped to my stomach. He held his hand out and swung. 

I could feel the tingling on my face as he said, "Say something else, and it's gonna be somewhere else."

Sam got up from the table and ran to his room. I hated when Sam saw this. I knew it would hurt him more, but I still spoke anyway. It's hard. I knew Dad loved us. He just didn't know how to express it.

I walked away from the table as Dad drank more beer.

"Sam, you know that…" I couldn't think of an excuse, so I said, "Open the door, please."

Sam opened the door. His eyes were red, stress hives had formed on his arm. I wanted to hold him and tell him I would get us out here. I tried to protect him. I wanted him to always be safe. I just wish he knew Dad before Mom died. 

"Why?" Sam asked, "Why do you just sit there and take it."

So he won't come after you, I wanted to say. Instead, I just shrugged as he closed the door in frustration.

* * *

I woke up early to go on a run to clear my head. As I ran, I saw a familiar face. It was Cas, walking a fluffy golden retriever. There was a redheaded girl next to him. I didn't know her, but she was pretty. I stopped jogging and stared for a moment.

"Hey!" I waved.

"Oh hey, Dean!" Cas's face brightened. He turned to the girl, "Anna, this is Dean Winchester."

Anna threw up a hand shyly. I smiled in response. 

"Catch you later, I guess," I said as I walked away.

It was nice to see Cas, and he looked happy to see me. His sister was nice as well. I thought of the interaction as I strolled to the abandoned house on the end of the street. Sam always asked why I liked that place so much, but I don't know why. I just like creepy things. The house feels almost supernatural. 

* * *

"Hey!" Someone hit me in the back. Jo.

"Hay is for horses," Jo grinned. "Got a date for the party?"

I shook my head. I was planning on asking Lisa but Jo was a fun party person. This could pose an issue, but I decided to ignore it.

"Well, you do now, silly goose," Jo said snarkily. 

I always took Jo to parties. She was indeed the life of them. We'd go, she'd flirt, I'd scope out the crowd, we'd both be disappointed, then drunkenly make out in the Impala. Maybe grab a milkshake. It was tradition, but I had never taken Lisa before. Jo and I were more like flirty friends; I really had something with Lisa.

"Same as always?" I asked.

"Yup, come get me at five, and I'll bring the refreshments." She was referring to the whiskey she would steal from her mom's bar.

Jo walked away, and I turned to see Lisa standing at her locker. She was grabbing a math textbook and a copy of Gatsby.

"Hey Lis," I started.

"What do you want, Dean," She seemed annoyed.

"Are you ok?"

"I thought you've been ignoring me," Her voice had little emotion.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't realize how distant I was," Now was not the best time. I decided to say nothing about the party.

"Also, I'm not going to the party. My mom is making me watch my sister." Lisa was disappointed.

"Aw man," Score. This would work out.

We departed from the hallway, and I went to class.

* * *

School could not end fast enough. I couldn't wait for the game.

"Winchester, come see me," Mr. Crowley ordered me to his desk.

I hesitantly got up. He seemed pleased. I could not think of what this could possibly be about.

"Dean, your make-up test is perfect," His voice was enthusiastic. "I'm very proud."

Wow. I could not believe this. I thought for sure that I had flunked. As I breezed by, Cas gave me a thumbs up. I would have to thank him later.

* * *

The rest of the day flew by like cake. 

The team gathered in the locker room before entering the busses. Coach Bobby gave us one last speech.

"Alright, boys, remember what I said yesterday. Be polite and respectful but kick butt," The team cheered as soon as he said it.

We filled into the bus like sardines. This would be unpleasant on the ride home. I made sure I sat next to Cas to talk about science.

"Hey man, thank you so much," I patted his shoulder. 

"Of course," He didn't even look up from his book.

"What's it about" I pointed to On the Road.

"Oh, it's not your kind of book. You wouldn't like it," Cas muttered assertively. 

"I'm sure I would"

"When I finish, I'll let you borrow it," Cas clearly was uncomfortable.

"Ok," I decided not to press.

We sat in awkward silence. It was painful. I tried not to stare while he read his book, but he's all I wanted to pay attention to. I noticed the way his eyes glowed, the way his lip curled when he read something funny, the way he brushed his fringe away from his face.

"Dean...Dean...Dean," I finally noticed that Cas was talking to me.

"Huh?" Shit.

"You're staring," 

"You're a pretty picture," I tried to laugh it off, and I guess it worked because he smiled.

He titled his head in surprise at the comment, but he didn't say anything about it, just turned to his book again. I stared more this time, making it very obvious. He looked up again and grinned. This time, I scooted closer. Now, we were only inches apart. Without looking up, he put his head on my shoulder and continued reading. His hair was soft against my cheek. His arm fit perfectly next to mine. I felt so warm and fuzzy. I never had this feeling before.

* * *

"Hut, hut, 67," Bobby was yelling out commands, "Let's go, boys!"

The bright lights lit up the dark field. It was the fourth quarter, and things were looking good. Tried to keep my head in the game as I made a pass to Cas. Cas fumbled the ball, and another player tackled him.

"What are you doing, Novak?" Bobby yelled. Fumbles were out of character for Cas.

I noticed that the opponent was on top of Cas. This was more malicious than just a tackle. 

"Hey!" Gabe tried to break them up but got lost in the mix. 

Finally, a ref noticed and threw up a flag, "Fifteen-yard penalty!"

Cas stumbled up, his lip was bleeding, and a bruise formed around his eye. We cleared the field to regroup. Cas would most-likely be evaluated, and that player, Azazel, would be suspended. Bobby took Cas to the medical station and, after, walked to the refs and the other coach. You could see them conversing. Bobby's face was solemn.

"So, after talking to the other coach and the refs, we've decided to end this game. The behavior was unacceptable, and we want to prevent any other incidents from happening." Bob said, disappointingly. 

"Ugh, I want to kill this kid!" Gabe yelled. His face was red hot.

"Exactly," Cas spoke up from the bench. No one even noticed that he walked over. "This is what we want to prevent." 

Gabe crossed his arms. He's quite the drama queen.

Bobby told us to gather our stuff and meet him outside to get on the bus. Most of the team was able to grab their belongings quickly. I was about to leave the locker room when I heard someone grunt. They sounded frustrated. 

"Dean! Are you still in here?" Cas called out.

"Um...yeah? Why?"

Cas walked out from behind a row of lockers, shirtless. I tried to contain myself, but the sweat against his skin, the ruffled wet hair, the smile, he looked hot. I must say.

He looked defeated, "I can't find my bag."

I nodded, and Cas continued, "Can you tell Coach Singer that I'll be late? I need to find my bag."

I ran to Bobby, "Cas can't find his bag. I'm gonna stay and help him. I'll call for you to pick me up later."

"Sounds good, kiddo," Bobby gave me two thumbs up.

I ran back to Cas just to find him with his head between his knees on a bench. I didn't know what to do, so I just placed my hand on his back and left it there. 

The room smelled of old sweat and mud. The smell was so overwhelming, I don't know how I didn't notice it earlier. There are lots of things I haven't seen, I start to think about what I've actually paid attention to.

"Cas?" I question. "Are you ok?"

He shook his head. He didn't even move from his position, so I got up to look around. The lockers didn't have locks, so I opened all of them. Nothing. I checked under benches, in stalls; I even looked by the toilets.

"Man, I can't find it," I sighed.

Seconds after I said those words, the lights went out, and I heard the twist of a key.

"Damnit!" I'd never heard Cas curse before, "What are we gonna do?"

"Cas, I don't know," I said as I tried to think. 

I opened my phone to see that it was dead. I couldn't use the flashlight, and if Cas didn't have his bag, he didn't have his phone with him. Thankfully, I had a charger in my pocket, but it would take at least an hour for my Motorola to charge. Damn, that phone takes forever.

"We're gonna miss the party, and it's all my fault," Cas started sobbing.

"No, don't cry," I don't do well with tears. I sat back down on the bench.

"Dean…" Cas scooted away from me.

"What?" I moved closer so I could hear him through the sobs.

Cas turned and kissed me. His soft lips against mine felt like heaven on a platter. He ran his hands through my hair as he swung his legs over onto my lap. I lay down on my back as he leaned into me. I began kissing back but still letting him lead. This is what I wanted. I've been yearning for this. He moves from my lips to my neck, and I run my hands across his muscles.

"Dean?"

"Cas?"

"God, I love it when you say my name," He says as he undresses me faster.

* * *

After we finish, I check my phone to see if it is charged. The time says 7:15. It's only been an hour since the game ended, so we're not too late.

"So what do we do now?" Cas was lying on the bench, looking at the ceiling.

"Call Bobby to pick us up, I guess?" I ran out of solutions, "I think someone stole it."

"You're probably right, but how do we get out of here?" Cas questioned.

I did not think about that. We were in a locked locker room after school hours with no way of getting out or seeing.

It took me a moment, but I came up with a solution. There's a window high up in the back, so I slid another bench towards it so I could reach it. I flicked the lock on the window, and it budged. It was a small window, but I could climb up and slide my torso through without issue. 

"Cas!" I yelled as I slid downwards out of the window, back into the locker room.

"What?"

"I found a solution."

* * *

Bobby arrived quickly to pick up a poor freezing shirtless Cas and me.

"No bag?" Bobby questioned.

We shrugged and told him we couldn't find it. Bobby said that we were never playing this school again. Cas and I were content with that. I looked over to Cas and smiled. He smiled back and giggled. I held out my hand, and he took it. I felt the warm sensation through my body again as he touched me.

"What's up with you guys?" Bobby asked.

"Nothing," I smiled but quickly pulled my hand away from Cas. I wasn't ready to tell Bobby yet.

* * *

We arrived at Valentine's party, and Jo was the first to greet me.

"Did you forget about me?" Jo wrinkled her nose in annoyance.

"Sorry, I was looking for Cas's bag." I'm not lying.

"Well, I found another date." Jo turned to a girl, Lisa.

"Hey Dean," Lisa waved and pointed to a redhead, "Meet Charlie!"

"Hi! I'm Jo's girlfriend!" Charlie stuck out her hand enthusiastically. 

I laughed—what a wild night. I strolled over to the drink table and grabbed some punch. Cas found me through the crowd. He was shy now.

"Dean? Are we going to talk about this?" Cas insisted.

"Sure."

"I like you."

"I get that." I wondered what the problem was.

"And?" Cas seemed unsure.

I moved closer to Cas and hugged him. 

Cas told me that Gabe had grabbed his bag from the locker room because he knew that Cas was hurt. Gabe was goofy but kind at heart. Cas was thankful that he did, and no one stole it.

That reminded me that I had something to give Cas. I opened my bag and handed Cas a mixtape with some Zeppelin favorites.

"Dean, I can't take this," Cas was in awe.

"It's a gift; you keep those." I smiled and took his hand to dance.

[the-space-above-the-stars]

he said, she said

lee jeno x reader

Summary: You like Jeno. Jeno likes you. You think Jeno likes your best friend Aisha. Jeno thinks you like Jaemin. Aisha and Jaemin think the both of you are idiots. 

Warnings: none!

Word Count: 3K

Genre: pure, stupid fluff

Pairing: jeno x reader, friends to lovers!au

***

Ever since primary school, it seems like it had been the four of you. You and your best friend Aisha had met Jaemin and Jeno, another pair of best friends, and you all just kind of melded into this quartet, proving inseparable throughout high school. 

And somewhere, at some undetectable point in your journey, you had decided to be a clown had caught feelings for Jeno. At first, you were certain that it was just a short crush, a brief infatuation with the smiley-eyed boy that would go away, but time passed, you hit double digits, you went off to high school, and even then, even now, your heart still somersaults anytime you think about him. 

A few years ago, you had even thought about confessing, having a wild notion that there was a possibility that Jeno returned your feelings, but then you heard some schoolyard gossip that stopped you in your tracks. 

“I heard Jeno likes Aisha! Yeah, I even saw him giving her his jacket yesterday!” 

And that gossip worked as a catalyst, your fickle middle-school mind overworking the words in your mind and using them to overanalyze every interaction that Jeno and Aisha had from then, and you drew the conclusion that yeah, he did like her. After all, you were one of the people that knew him the best, and if you couldn’t trust your own gut...

So you backed off. You knew Aisha wasn’t interested in Jeno, but there was still no way in hell that you were going to confess when you knew you would be rejected, and possibly ruin your friendship. 

***

Aisha sat in the cafeteria, uninterested in the food that was slowly growing cold in her tray. Her chin rested in her palm and she tapped her fingers against her cheek, squinting at the two people in the lunch line on the other side of the room. “Hey Aisha-” Jaemin greeted her, only to be met with a glare and a hush. “Who’re you watching?” He asked, his eyebrow raised as he sat next to her, sneaking fries off her tray. 

“Jeno and Y/N,” she sighed, nodding to where the two were moving through the lunch line together. Jeno, first in the line, reached forward for the next food option, tater tots, and dropped some first into Y/N’s tray, and then some into his. “Look, he doesn’t even like the tater tots, but he always takes some so Y/N can take them off his tray.” 

“Ah yes,” Jaemin sighed, french fries being forgotten as he understood his friend’s predicament. “The crippling saga of When Will Our Oblivious Best Friends Get Together continues.” 

“It doesn’t make sense!” Aisha gestured wildly at the two. “There is literally nothing that should be stopping them from dating! Their families love each other, they’re good friends, they both like each other, so why the fuck can’t they just get together?” 

“Who can’t get together?” You asked, smiling at Jeno as he used his foot to pull your chair out for you. Aisha glares at Jaemin once again. 

“Uh- why Monica and Chandler can’t get together, on FRIENDS,” Jaemin stuttered.

Jeno raised an eyebrow, pulling his plastic fork from the packaging. “But- Monica and Chandler are together?” 

“Dude! Spoiler alert! So anyway, you guys doing anything after school?” You and Jeno looked at him with confusion, then at Aisha, but she had on her impeccable poker face, so the two of you just looked at each other and shrugged. 

“Uh, I’m tutoring Jeno for the chem test.” 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, can you wait for like 10 minutes in the library? Coach told us he needs to talk to us about captains after practice today.” 

“Yeah sure, just meet me there. What about you two?” You smile as you nod at Aisha and Jaemin, using a fork to pick a tater tot off of Jeno’s tray. 

“Nothing much,” Aisha shrugged. “We’ve just got a project we need to work on.” 

“What pro-” Jaemin started, cutting himself off with a cough when Aisha pinched him from under the table. “Oh right, that project, I remember now.” 

Jeno raised an eyebrow, eyes darting between the two, but shrugged and went back to eating, transferring the rest of his tater tots to your tray. Jaemin looked at Aisha, but she mouthed “After lunch” to him.

***

“Okay, so either I have amnesia and we got assigned a project, or you were lying in there,” Jaemin dropped his lunch tray off, following Aisha into the hall. 

“Well, we technically do have a project. Just not for school. I’m initiating Project Get Our Dumbass Friends Together.” 

“Oh thank god,” Jaemin sighed as the bell rang, the two of them continuing to talk as they headed to class. “I thought we actually had to do schoolwork. So what’s the first step, Captain?” 

“Recon,” Aisha shrugged, the two of them slipping into their seats in Chemistry, lowering her voice to a whisper. “We talk to Jeno and Y/N separately and we figure out what’s stopping them from getting together, apart from the obvious.” 

“What’s obvious?” Jaemin whispered, trying to not get in trouble with Miss Lin, who hated his guts. 

“They’re both pussies.” 

***

After the final bell rang, Jaemin set off for the library, his work set out for him. Aisha was gonna talk to Jeno when he got out of basketball practice, which left him with you. The librarian glared at him as he walked in, pointing her pen on the “no food or drink” sign. The old bat’s memory apparently hadn’t begun to fail her. Holding his hands up in defense, he walked past her to where you sat, earbuds in and head buried in some book. “What’s shaking?” You jumped as he tapped her shoulder, falling into the seat next to you. 

“Jesus Christ Nana, give me some warning next time,” You sighed, rolling your eyes. “What’re you doing here, don’t you have to work with Aisha?” 

“Oh yeah, we uh, we actually got most of it done in Study Hall. And so I was walking by the library and who do I see but my favorite person to bug, Y/N Y/L/N,” 

“You’re such a pest.” 

“A loveable pest.” He coughed, not sure how to transition into the topic. “So you like Jeno, huh?” Your eyes widened, and you turned to look at him so fast he’s sure that he gave you whiplash. 

Well, that would work. 

“W-What?” You stutter, face reddening as you look down at your book. “You’re crazy Na. Me? Like Jeno? As if.” 

“Yes, I predicted that you’d react like this, so I’m just gonna get to it. Y/N/N, everyone can see the way you look at Jeno. Well, everyone but him, but that’s not the point. You guys practically do everything together, you’re tutoring him for Chemistry on a Friday night, for fucks sake and so help me if you don’t confess I’ll start singing right here, right now-” You cut him off by slapping a hand over his mouth, your face a furious shade of red. “So?” His voice came out muffled and you groaned, removing your hand. 

“Okay, okay, I like Jeno, okay? You can’t tell ANYONE.” 

“Why not! You guys would literally be the BEST couple-” 

“He doesn’t like me, Jaemin.” That took him a bit by surprise. “I’m not gonna ruin everything on a whim that he might feel the same.” 

“What the fuck do-” The librarian shushed him aggressively, and he continued in a whisper. “What do you mean he doesn’t like you?” 

“He likes Aisha, Jaemin.” 

***

Aisha tapped her foot to the beat of the song she was listening to through her earbuds, leaning against the wall outside the gym as she waited for Jeno. Her last class of the day was closer, so she had volunteered to interrogate him.

They were heading into their senior year of high school and it was frustrating to see that you and Jeno, two people that have had feelings for each other since forever, still hadn’t managed to put two and two together and start dating. She was doing this not just to get them together, but also she was curious to see what was stopping them. 

The doors to the gym opened and the basketball team started filing out, changed back into their daily clothes with their gym bags over their shoulders. Jeno was near the back talking to Chenle. “Hey, Jeno!” She called out to him, waving him over. His head perked up and he smiled at her, saying bye to Chenle and walking over. “I need to talk to you.” 

“Uh, I really need to get to the library, is this gonna be a long talk?” 

“Actually, we can talk on the way.” Pulling him by the sleeve, she started walking to the library. “So you’ve liked Y/N since forever, and I know that-” 

“Wait, wait wait-” Jeno looked around to make sure no one was around, looking at Aisha like she was crazy. “What do you mean I like Y/N?” 

“You’ve liked her since she pulled the fire alarm to get you and Jaemin out of detention on your birthday so we could all go celebrate. Am I wrong?” Jeno opened and closed his mouth, but no noise came out. Aisha shrugged and kept walking. “Didn’t think so?” 

“Wait- what, how’d you find out?” 

“You’re not too subtle, you know? The only person who apparently doesn’t know you like Y/N is, well Y/N herself. So tell me, Troy Bolton, why aren’t you confessing?” 

“I’m not gonna ruin our friendship just because of some stupid feelings,” Jeno huffed. “If keeping everything to myself means we can stay friends, then I’ll gladly never tell her.” 

“You’re actually so stupid. You’ve known the girl for over a decade and you’re this oblivious about the way she feels? Do you think she’d do the shit she does for you for other people, Jeno? Staying after school on a FRIDAY NIGHT to tutor you, when you damn well know that you guys could do this over FaceTime? Pulling the fire alarm? Y/N likes you, dumbass!” 

Jeno looked at Aisha like she was crazy. “No, she doesn’t. She likes Jaemin, Aisha.” 

***

Jaemin met Aisha outside of the library after Jeno went inside. “So what’d you learn?” He asked as the two watched Jeno walk up to you. Smiling, he put his head on your shoulder and said something, making you jump. Scowling, you hit him with a book. 

“Jeno thinks Y/N likes you.” 

“Oh shit, that’s crazy. Y/N thinks Jeno likes you.” 

“Dumbasses,” they sighed at the same time, looking at each other. “So what do we do know?” Jaemin questioned, following Aisha as she walked away from the library. 

“I mean, I guess we can set them up in some sort of elaborate blind date,” Aisha suggested. “We tell them both we have someone we want to set them up with, and then we just leave them together. Something’s bound to happen.” 

“Or we could do the simpler way and just lock them in a closet,” Jaemin suggested, shrugging as they walked out of the school. 

“What is this?” Aisha wrinkled her nose at his suggestion. “A fanfiction? Knowing them, they’d just sit in silence until we let them out.” Jaemin opened his mouth to argue, then closed it and shrugged, nodding in agreement. “Come on, Nana, Step 2 of Project Get Our Dumbass Friends Together has begun.” 

***

You hit Jeno with her book. “First, Jaemin scares me, then you? What is this, Terrorize Y/N Day?” Jeno fell into the chair next to her, trying to stifle his laughter, and her scowl faded away. She couldn’t stay mad at him, unfortunately. 

“So um, why was Jaemin scaring you?” Jeno coughed as he stopped laughing, pausing as he reached for his textbook to ask. 

You turned red, remembering Jaemin’s speculations and shook her head. “He sat me sitting alone and just stopped by to annoy me, is there any other reason for Jaemin?” Jeno just pursed his lips and nodded. You could tell something was bugging him, but you just couldn’t tell what. “So um, what were you having trouble with, exactly?” 

“Uh, everything?” Jeno blushed, scratching the back of his head and you laughed, hiding your smile behind the sleeve of your sweater. Jeno smiled. He loved your smile.

As the evening wore on and you kept talking about polar bonds and balancing equations and Lewis Structures, you couldn’t help but notice that Jeno was staring at you. Not looking, which would have the rational explanation that he was dozing off and staring off at nothing, this was full-on staring. His eyes flickered from your own to the strands of hair curling behind your ear to your lips- “What is it?” You asked, taking him by surprise. “Is there something on my face?”

“No, there’s nothing!” He stuck his hands up in defense. “I’m just thinking of something Aisha told me on the way here.”

Ouch. You purse your lips, avoiding his eyes and looking back at the textbook. “You and Aisha walked here together?”

“Yeah, she had to talk to me about something, uh where were we?”

“Molar mass,” you mumbled, that tiny bit of hope continuing to crumble away. At the end of the evening, they packed up and Jeno offered to give you a ride. Most of it was spent in silence, which was rare between the two, but granted they did have a lot to think about. “So what did Aisha want to talk to you about?” you asked, turning your attention from your fraying jeans to your friend.

Jeno ribbed the back of his head, awkwardly avoiding your gaze. “Um, this is gonna sound crazy, but she was basically saying that you like me.”

Your heart started going so fast you were sure it would set a world record at the Olympics. “Huh,” is all you managed to say, glad that it was so dark out that Jeno couldn’t see how red you were.

“Yeah I told her that was crazy, I mean... you don’t like me, like that, right?” Jeno pulled the car to a stop on the curb in front of your house, looking at you intently.

“Uh, yeah, I mean of course not.” There was something funny in the look on his face. It was almost a look of disappointment. But that’s crazy. “Jaemin actually said something similar about you, and I told him he was mad, I mean, you like Aisha, everyone knows-“

“What?” Jeno was now looking at you like you were crazy. “What- I like Aisha?”

“Yeah, I mean, don’t you?”

Jeno groaned, resting his head on the steering wheel. “no, I don’t- I actually like...” He trailed off, turning red and stopping himself before he revealed anything more.

“Who? Who do you like?” You were dreading the answer and honestly didn’t know why you asked.

“I um- okay, please don’t hate me, I like you.” His fingers tapped furiously on the wheel, looking out the window at passing cars. “But I know you like Jaemin, so can we just pretend I never revealed-“

“Wait a damn minute-“ You clapped a hand over his mouth, mind struggling to understand everything that was just revealed in the past 2 minutes. “I don’t like Jaemin, who told you that?”

“I- I mean you guys are always- You don’t like him?”

“No.” Groaning, you rested your head in your hands, hair falling over your face. “I like you, idiot.”

“You- like- me?” He worded it out slowly, finally comprehending the meaning of the words. “Man, we’re both dumb, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” you laughed breathlessly, moving your hand from your face to pat his, which was still furiously clenched around the wheel. He slowly released his grip, turning his hand around to hold yours.

Making eye contact, you both flushed even redder than you were before, Jeno coughing and looking away. “So um, what now?”

“I- can I try something?” He nodded and removing your hand from his grip, you leaned in, cupping his face and pressing your lips against his. The initial shock wore away and he kissed you back, hands wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. Which was a bit difficult with the seatbelts, but you finally figured it out. Pulling away, you were both grinning like idiots, faces flushed and lips buzzing.

“Can I ask you something?” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you nodded. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

***

Come Monday, Jaemin and Aisha we’re completely prepared for Step Two, which was probably a bit TOO detailed. “You got the roses?” Aisha asked, and Jaemin nodded.

“Yeah, you got the peanut butter-“

“Hey, guys!” You greeted as you walked into the room. They looked up, jaws dropping when they saw you.

There were a few things different. First of all, you were wearing Jeno’s jacket. To continue, Jeno’s arm was around you. In conclusion, you two did not look like two people who were JUST friends. “Hi,” Aisha managed to say, nudging Jaemin in the side. “What happened to you two?”

“Oh, we’re dating now, basically.” Jeno grinned, taking your hand in his. The bell rang to get to homeroom, and kids began to filter out of the halls. “I’ll see you in Chem?” You nodded and smiled as he leaned down and kissed your cheek, waving at Aisha and Jaemin as he walked off.

“I gotta get to class, I’ll see you guys later,” You waved at them, hands invisible in the sleeves of Jeno’s large sweater. and walked off.

Jaemin finally closed his mouth, looking at Aisha in shock. “That really happened?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, then groaned. “We have a lot of roses and peanut butter to get rid of, don’t we?”

“Yup.” They started walking to homeroom when Jaemin got an idea. “Do we still get to take credit for them?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

[richietoaster]

Now I’ve Got You In My Arms

Pairing: Richie Tozier/ Eddie Kaspbrak

Warnings: hickeys, lots of hickey talk, implications of oral sex, implied top!eddie, a lot of fluff sorry

they are 18

word count: 2,726

@delicateloser @killerxqueer @richiietozierr

THANK YOU @tastes-like-cherry-coke FOR BEING MY BETA

AO3 Link

Eddie sucks in a breath when he watches Richie slide on a clean shirt, his back muscles flexing. He shudders and shakes away the thoughts because, Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier are not gay, okay? Especially not together. Just sometimes they kiss and give each other hickeys when they’re alone. (They don’t admit to anyone they’re from each other, but they wear their bruises proudly.) (Okay, so they’re a little gay.) (They’re hella gay.)

It’s just another day in Derry. The Losers are in the hallway grouping up before their classes start. Richie and Eddie are running late. Again.

Just as the warning bell sounds, the two are rushing in toward their friends.

“Where have you guys been?” Stan asks, his eyes immediately adverting to Eddie’s neck, “And what the hell is that?”  

“Richie’s truck wouldn’t start,” Eddie said, initially ignoring Stan’s question before he covers his neck, “Yes, shut up, it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“From who?”

Eddie side-eyes Richie nervously, “S-some girl.. I went out last night.”

“Out?” Bill asks.

“Yeah..” Eddie trails off, remembering the night before.

He and Richie were both shirtless, Eddie in his lap, slowly moving himself around, moaning loudly as Richie attacked his neck like the leech he is.

“Eddie,” Bev calls out while dramatically waving her hand in front of Eddie’s face, “You good? You spaced out for a minute there.”

“Yeah, m’fine. I’ll see you guys at lunch.” Eddie turns and walks away in the opposite direction.

“Not gonna kiss your best friend goodbye?” Richie laughs when Eddie flips him off without turning around.

“Is it me or did Eddie seem really off when he responded to our questions?” Mike asks as the group watched the smallest boy go.

“Maybe it’s because he got fucking mauled last night. Did you see the size of those hickeys?” Ben makes a face and chuckles with Bill.

Richie awkwardly scratches the back of his neck and it must be his lucky day, because before his uncomfortable stance could be sensed by the group the second bell rings, “Yeeaaahh.. I’ll catch you guys later..”

After Richie leaves, the group disbands.

Two periods later, Eddie is in science when his phone vibrates on the desk. He slides it between two books, trying not to get caught checking it.

Richie: what’re you doing  [9:56AM]

Eddie rolls his eyes and types back, ‘im in science. cant skip today.’  [9:57AM]

Richie: you dont even kno what i was gonna ask  [10:01AM]

Eddie: was it that?  [10:01AM]

Richie: ok yeah but this time its different  [10:04AM]

Eddie’s mouth turns into a frown. Different? How? Everytime he skips with Richie they always go get fast food together and only sometimes he convinces Eddie to smoke with him.

Eddie: what do you mean?  [10:06AM]

Within seconds he gets a message back, but this time it’s a picture attachment. He opens it, almost regretting he did (he really doesn’t), eyes widening. Richie had taken a picture of himself- only showing his mouth and below. He’s biting his lip and- Eddie slams his phone down when he sees it- Richie has a hand down his jeans. Eddie’s face is flushed red.

“Mr. Kaspbrak, are you okay?” His teacher turns around from the chalkboard, shooting him a worried glance.

“Yes, fine. Can I use the restroom?”

“Sign out, please.”

Eddie does quickly and nearly runs out of the classroom. He unlocks his phone, Richie’s contact still up, and types out a blatant, ‘where the fuck are you’

Richie: downstairs bathroom, near the music department  [10:12AM]

Eddie narrows his eyes and walks down a flight of steps, turning a few corners, before attempting to pull open the bathroom door. It’s locked. That bastard fucking planned this.

“Open the door, asshole.”

The lock clicks, and the second it does, Eddie is pushing himself through the doorway, locking it again. He faces Richie.

“You’re such a little shit. You know that?”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Richie challenges.

Eddie shoves him against the sink, “I shouldn’t do anything about it- you’re practically begging me to.”

Richie smiles cheekily, “Hm. I am.”

Eddie pulls Richie’s head back by his hair, lips immediately attaching to his neck, sucking hard. He has his other hand on the boy’s hip, tucking his fingers into the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head, throwing it on the counter. He marks up Richie’s entire chest.

“Enough marks, I look like a fucking cheetah.”

Eddie gives him one more on his hip just to spite him. He stands back up, cupping his cheek, leaning in to kiss him on the mouth, but isn’t surprised when Richie doesn’t let him. Richie doesn’t do mouth kisses. He thinks back to a few weeks ago when they were sitting in Eddie’s room when he first tried to kiss him.

“No,” Richie had said quietly, “Too intimate. No kissing.”

But Eddie still wants to kiss Richie. No homo, of course, because that’s gay and Eddie Kaspbrak is not gay.

Those thoughts are interrupted when Richie flips him to the counter, kissing down his neck softly, taking off his shirt.

“You don’t always have to be in control, Eddie,” He whispers against the smaller brunettes pale skin.

“I know, but I want to. I like it.”

“Let’s change that..” Richie kneels down, unbuttoning his jeans, shoving the clothing to his ankles.

“Richie-” Eddie tries to protest, but cuts himself off. His eyes flutter to the back of his head and brings one hand to his mouth to bite his wrist, and the other one to pull on Richie’s hair because good god.

The next time The Losers meet up again is at lunch. Everyone but Eddie is there.

“Hey-hey, you guuuys,” Bev sings, setting her tray down. “Anybody want to trade their french fries for my tater tots?”

“T-They’re the same thing,” Bill tells her.

“You’re a fake friend. Everyone knows it’s about the texture.”

Ben rolls his eyes, “Nuh uh, it tastes all the same. You’re so weird.”

“No, you both are weird. Texture is everything, it-”

“I’ll trade with you, Bev.” Stan speaks up. “I understand.”

“At least someone d-”

Mike cuts her off when he sees Richie parading over, bruises covering his neck, “Holy shit. You guys. Horton spots a hoe.”

“That’s not the correct quote.” Richie says while narrowing his eyes behind his glasses.

“Look at this, kids! What do we have here?” Ben pokes one of the many hickeys. Richie hisses in pain.

“Whoever gave you those must have been fucking rough. I mean damn, you’re wincing like a bitch. They’re so purple they’re almost black,“ Mike said with a small laugh before digging into his fries.

“You look like a cheetah.” Ben laughs.

“I told him that.” Richie mutters. If they heard him, they don’t say anything.

“W-Why did you let someone give you all of those i-if it h-hurts? And in s-school?”

“Because, my dear Billy,” Richie slings an arm over Bill’s shoulders, “At the time it felt fucking amazing.” He ignores Bill’s second question, but it’s just his luck that Eddie walks over just as he kisses and tells. Richie winks at him.

“Hey, Ed. You missed it. Richie was just telling us about his new lover,” Bev says, her voice filled with a tone salty enough to season McDonald’s fries.

“Excuse me,” Richie sputters, “You guys were pestering me about my hickeys- I said nothing about a lover.”

“Yeah, because there’s so many,” Ben says, reaching to poke at them again but reviving a slap on the wrist from Richie.

“You should see his chest.” Eddie tells them absentmindedly.

Richie shoots him a look, but it’s too late.

“There’s hickeys there, too? Damn, Richie.. Wait- Eddie, how do you know that?” Bev asks, almost knowingly, that salty tone almost tripled.

Eddie panics, “We have gym together.”

They don’t have gym together.

Mike changes the topic for Eddie’s sake, “Hey, are you gonna eat lunch, Richie?”

Richie looks at Eddie, “Nah, I ate earlier.”

Eddie’s face turns a bright red.

Eddie lays on Richie’s chest, tracing patterns onto his stomach. The other boy had fallen asleep minutes after Eddie snuck into his room. He’s been playing with his hair for merely an hour and his hand is getting tired. He retreats it slowly, resting it on Richie’s cheek, rubbing his freckled skin softly. He pauses his movements, suddenly extremely interested in what his lips would feel like, pressed onto the other boy’s. He doesn’t stop himself from leaning into Richie’s space.

Eddie places his lips onto his friend’s, cautiously, not trying to wake him. He pulls back only to do it again, however, this time he was not so lucky.

Richie’s breath hitches, and his eyes open. He sees Eddie hovering over him, and judging by how close he was, he realizes what he was doing. He sits up abruptly, letting the sheets fall from his body, and Eddie detangle from him. Richie searches Eddie’s eyes, unsure of what he could be thinking.

Eddie tries to speak but Richie touches his face and he closes his mouth.

Richie grabs Eddie by the neck, dragging him closer. His lips ghost over the smaller boys, before pressing his hickey-littered chest to Eddie’s, and parting his lips with his own. It’s not needy, surprisingly. That’s all the atmosphere has been between them, recently. Richie lets himself lay back down, not breaking their kiss.

Eddie gets the hint and crawls on top of him, mouths never leaving each other’s. It’s slow and open-mouthed and really, really messy. But it’s great. Fucking fantastic, actually.

The two kiss lazily until they fall asleep, Eddie still on top of Richie.

“Rise and shine, princess.”

A pillow comes in contact with Eddie’s face. “Did you know that you doing that could have like, killed me?”

“What? Me, kill you? I’d never, Eds.” Richie leans down, kissing him gently.

Oh, okay, so that’s a thing now.

Eddie sucks in a breath when he watches Richie slide on a clean shirt, his back muscles flexing. He shudders and shakes away the thoughts because, Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier are not gay, okay? Especially not together. Just sometimes they kiss and give each other hickeys when they’re alone. (They don’t admit to anyone they’re from each other, but they wear their bruises proudly.) (Okay, so they’re a little gay.) (They’re hella gay.)

“I don’t want to go to school,” Eddie groans and throws his head back onto the pillow.

“You have to, bubba. C’mon, up, up, up.” Richie pats his legs.

“Don’t have clean clothes,” Eddie says.

“You can wear some of mine.”

Eddie picks out a hoodie (it smells like Richie) and a pair of basketball shorts (Richie’s jeans are too long for him- curse that long ass bitch).

They brush their teeth together quickly before heading out.

It takes a few minutes for Richie’s truck to start. They end up having the neighbor help him jump it.

“Think we’re late?” Eddie asks.

“Nah, we should be fine. If not, we could skip first.”

Eddie catches the wiggle of his eyebrow. “You’re fucking disgusting.”

Richie grabs Eddie’s hand, raising it to his mouth, and presses a soft kiss to it. “Kidding, babe.”

Eddie’s heart soars.

“Well if it isn’t Richie and Eddie, almost late. As usual.” Stan gives them a look.

“My truck wouldn’t start this morning, again.”

“Hey, aren’t those Richie’s clothes?” Ben points out.

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugs, “I stayed over last night and I didn’t have any extra clothes with me.”

“Isn’t that s-sweet.”

“Yeah, sure.” Richie rolls his eyes at Bill’s snickering.

After the warning bell goes off, Richie and Eddie had never left The Loser’s so quickly.

Despite Eddie’s whines, they spend all of first period making out in the bathroom.

“You’ve never wanted to kiss me before,” Eddie says into Richie’s mouth.

Richie pulls back, “Mhm, I was missing out, obviously.” He connects their lips back together, weaving a hand into his hair, nudges his head into an easier angle to work with. Richie has his tongue shoved so far down his throat, Eddie feels as if he could choke (not that he’d complain).

But here he was, that feeling coming back again. Eddie groans, pulling away.

Richie notices and trails butterfly kisses down Eddie’s neck, making sure to kiss all of his hickeys.

“R-Richie..”

“Mmm?”

“S-Stop.. Stop.”

Richie jerks back immediately, his heart about to leap from his chest, “Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”

“We can’t keep doing this if we aren’t going to address the elephant in the room.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t.. Don’t act so incredulous, Rich.”

“I’m not, I-”

“We can’t keep fooling around if we can’t discuss.. Us.”

Richie swallows and avoids eye contact.

“Look at me.. Look at me, damn it.”

The older boy does as he’s told.

“Richie.. I-  I can’t do this unless.. Unless we can be more. I want more, I want all of it. I want to go on cute dates with you, and I want to hold your hand. I want to kiss you in public. Hell, I want to kiss you all the time. I want you. I want all of this, because I have fallen head over heals in love with you, Richie Tozier.”

Richie stares in shock as his best friend confesses this to him.

“Please, say something..”

Richie is too speechless. Yet the second he tries to, Eddie is backing away. “Forget it. I-I’m sorry.”

Which means, the next few days are really awkward. Eddie ignores Richie in school. He doesn’t go visit him in the middle of the night, and he locks his window so Richie can’t, either.

Eddie has been trying to eat his lunch as quick as possible and get the fuck out of there before Richie spots him.

Today he was not that lucky.

Just as he is throwing his trash away, he turns and bumps into none other than the boy he was avoiding.

“Hey,” Richie grabs at his arm.

“Let go.”

“We.. need to talk.”

“Oh, we already did. Well, I did.” Eddie pulls out of his grip. Richie watches him leave.

“Eddie Kaspbrak!” He calls out. When he doesn’t turn around, he sits on the seat next to Bill.

“W-What did you d-do?”

“Eddie is in love with me.” Richie states.

“Whaaat? Nooo,” Stan said without looking up from his textbook, his voice filled with sarcasm.

“Wait, so you guys knew and didn’t tell me?”

“Not our place.” Ben says, also without looking up.

“Yeah, plus we didn’t know what you guys were doing. You two have been out boning god knows who, because you both are stupid.”

Mike is clueless, Richie thinks.

“You guys.. Eddie and I have been.. Um.. hooking up with each other for the last few months now.. But, we finally kissed. On the mouth. Just a few days ago. And he doesn’t think I want him as.. As my boyfriend. But I do! I just was shocked to even say anything when he told me. Now he wants nothing to do with me.”

His friends are surprised by that (all except Stan), because they didn’t actually think they were with each other like that.

“You fuckass.” Bev rolls her eyes. “Eddie has been leaving school early, so if you go now.. You might be able to catch him.”

Richie has never run so fast in his life, and, obviously, The Losers needed to see this. They’re having trouble keeping up.

Richie is standing in the bed of his truck when he sees Eddie walking in the opposite direction.

“Eddie Kaspbrak!”

This time Eddie turns to look at him. The students around him are looking, too. He rolls his eyes and walks back to him. “What are you doing?”

“I want it too, Eds! I want more, I want all of it. I want to take you on those cute dates and I want to hold your hand and kiss you in public, in private, all the time. I, too, am in love. More specifically, in love with you, Eddie Kaspbrak. I want to give you so much more.. But I think you’ll have to be my boyfriend first.” Richie hops down from his truck and reaches out for Eddie’s face, “What do you say, bug?”

Eddie nods, his eyes brimming with tears he tried to will away, “Took you long enough,” and lets Richie kiss him into oblivion. “I’m so in love with you.”

“And I you.” Richie leans back in, capturing Eddie’s lips in his own, with every ounce of energy he has inside of him. There are stars behind his eyes and honestly, Richie never wants to leave the presence of Eddie’s arms.

[guillemelgat]

Catalan Folk Music

As per request​, your favorite old person is here to give you some Catalan folk recommendations! (Actually I am neither old nor do I listen to large amounts of Catalan folk, but whatever, I’ll take any opportunity I get to talk about Catalan music.)

To begin with, the idea of “folk music” is kind of hard to define, since “folk” basically just means people and people are behind music most of the time. I’m not sure what Catalan folk Spotify thinks I’m listening to, but I’ll break down what I consider to be folk music from Catalunya and y’all can decide which one you think most accurately describes the style you like. 

(this is officially Too Long so will continue under the cut)

Real Folk (aka Weird Songs Your Avis Would Sing About Jesus and Other Such Topics)

Beldà + Sanjosex - This is probably why Spotify thinks I enjoy Catalan folk, but this album is really cool for me because as the child of an ethnomusicologist one of my favorite things in the world are the original songs that people used to sing in different places aka Real Folk Music™, and this album is the epitome of that. Neither Carles Beldà nor Sanjosex are explicitly folk artists, so don’t listen to any of their other albums expecting them to be the same, but this one is basically them reviving traditional Catalan folk songs (including samples from original recordings) and I think it’s super cool. If you speak Catalan, there’s a website (called Càntut like the album) dedicated to preserving these sorts of songs, with a wealth of songs, lyrics, and recordings.

“El divino vull cantar” - Token Jesus song with one of the people who taught them the song featured at the beginning and end (and at the end he sings a verse that Sanjosex comments is one he had never heard before). 

“El pomeró” - A cute song about a little apple tree of the sort that you would sing as a child except in a pretty polished version.

“Serrallonga” - A song about everyone’s favorite Catalan folk hero, this one has a bit more of an edge to it because Serrallonga was an edgy man.

Pep Gimeno “Botifarra” - I don’t know if Pep Botifarra should be here because he kind of transcends categories, but this was the best I could do. Basically, he’s a traditional singer in the Valencian cantaor style, and he makes a lot of traditional but also fun and modern music! In other words, the style he sings in is always traditional, and generally he’s accompanied by a traditional ensemble, but he also appears in collaboration with a range of groups from the País Valencià and the Països Catalans in general, especially groups like Obrint Pas. Also, a lot of his songs have more modern lyrics, and he’s generally just amazing.

“Malaguenya de Barxeta” - A rousing hymn to “el meu País Valencià” and honestly just The Best. Obrint Pas also have a version of this, which is also great, but less traditional.

“Jota de Xàtiva” - Feliu Ventura wrote at least some of the lyrics to this, but the music is old, which makes for a fun mix between modern and traditional.  

“Cant de batre” - Just because it’s absolutely gorgeous, not because it’s famous or important.

Nova Cançó (aka The Kind of Folk That Came From the 60s and Was Mostly For Hippies but in Catalunya It Was a Bit More Rooted In Actual Tradition)

Lluís Llach - I actually don’t listen to much Llach, but how can I not include him on this list? I don’t know if I would consider him 100% folk, but he’s definitely a leader of the Nova Cançó movement and a Catalan musician who you just can’t not know.

“L’estaca” - THE song by Lluís Llach, also probably a good example of him singing in a more folk-y style.

Maria del Mar Bonet - I've only listened to a bit of Maria del Mar Bonet, but she was another leader of Nova Cançó and her songs are really pretty and a lot more folksy. She’s also from Mallorca, which is always fun.

“Merhaba” - A song about the unity of Mediterranean cultures and their shared history as seafarers. This version sounds like it came from a movie soundtrack but it’s great.

“Què volen aquesta gent?” - A song about political repression and persecution during the dictatorship. It’s pretty famous and very moving.

“Carta a l’exili” - A song about writing to people from exile, making a definite reference to all the Catalans exiled after the Spanish Civil War and during the dictatorship.

Al Tall - Al Tall are THE folk band from the País Valencià, even though they kind of don’t count as Nova Cançó. They sing a lot of really traditional Valencian songs, but as with a lot of these groups, some of them have a definitively anti-Spain and anti-Bourbon flavor (I’m looking at you, “Cant dels Maulets”). Also they use a lot of dolçaina, so if that annoys you then you’re probably not going to like them. Still, if you want folk from a certain era from Valencia, they are your go-to people.

“El cant dels Maulets” - I can’t not mention this song, sorry if you like the Bourbons but this is a legend and it deserves to be here.

“Cançó de la llum” - A good song about a town where the mayor is supposed to switch to electricity but siphons the funds away for other purpose and proceeds to get absolutely destroyed.

“Tio Canya” - I’m sorry but it’s kind of impossible to find a non-political song by Al Tall, this one is about the loss of the Valencian language and is probably one of their most famous.

Ovidi Montllor- Ovidi is also Nova Cançó and arguably does not count as folk but I don’t care because he’s amazing and y’all should listen to him. He’s very left-leaning and pro-Valencian/Països Catalans, so he’s basically eternally relevant to young Catalans and honestly to young people everywhere, which is why groups like Aspencat, La Gossa, El Diluvi, and even Txarango (see the opening line of “Agafant l’horitzó”) make constant references to him. 

“Perquè vull” - A classic. The ultimate petty song but honestly such a mood. This version featuring Ovidi speaking in French at the beginning.

“Homenatge a Teresa” - Not personally my favorite Ovidi song, but it’s legendary so I can’t not put it. It’s a lot more quiet and gentle than his other songs.

“Tot explota pel cap o per la pota” - This is not the most Communist song by Ovidi, but it’s probably up there. Basically just about how the proletariat is done with the bourgeoisie, is empowered, and is going to rise up. What more could you ask for?

Raimon - Another super important artist from the País Valencià who is a bit more rooted in folk than Ovidi but still a part of Nova Cançó. I haven’t listened to a lot of Raimon but songs like “Al Vent” are classics that you can’t not like.

“Al vent” - A song about fighting despite the darkness of the world we were born into. It’s absolutely gorgeous.

“Jo vinc d’un silenci” - A haunting song about remembering where you come from and not losing sight of your roots.

“D’un temps, d’un país” - A solemnly beautiful song about pushing on and slowly winning the world that we have fought so much to see. Interpret what that world is as you will.

Esquirols - If you have an image of folk from the 1960s, Esquirols are probably what you’re imagining. Basically just a bunch of hippies singing songs about joining together (and also fighting for Catalunya but I mean what else would you expect at this point). In my opinion the best group from the Principat during this era, but that’s entirely personal and I am usually a bad judge of these things.

“Torna, torna, Serrallonga” - It’s ya boy he’s back and also this is literally The Most Legendary Song Ever it’s so epic (and as a heads up it’s also exceedingly political).

“Fent camí” - This is basically the Catalan version of all the songs I grew up with from Rise Up Singing (aka just a book with all the pro-union/grassroots protest songs ever sung in the United States), which is not a thing anyone is going to know but I don’t know how else to describe it.

“Arrels” - I just posted this a week or so ago (albeit a different version) but it’s so pretty and just a really nice positive song about life in general except not in a cheesy way, it’s just gorgeous and you have to listen to it for yourself.

“Folk Calentó” (aka Catalans Are Great and Have Modern Cool Hip Bands Who Play Folk in a Fun Way That Is Enjoyable to Listen to)

Roba Estesa - This band is literally the most undervalued Catalan group in modern music. They are six women who basically sing either feminist adaptations of traditional songs or else original songs with lots of influences from cúmbia or rumba catalana, but still with a definitive folk feel. They are amazing and deserve much more love than they get.

“Una altra ronda” - A lively song about getting really drunk with your friends because screw the rules women don’t care about being well-behaved.

“A la muntanya” - An older song about how girls just wanna have fun screw their husbands.

“Les noies d’Olot” - More girls just being generally badass and too good for the men who are interested in them.

El Diluvi - Of a similar left-leaning, feminist vein to Roba Estesa, this group is also very Catalanist and big fans of Ovidi (see above). They have a lively folk sound, with influences from all around the world, but are definitely rooted in acoustic, with a violin and a bandúrria making up part of their ensemble. They are quite possibly one of my favorite Catalan groups of all time.

“I tu, sols tu” - A feminist hymn but also just a great song, based on a poem by Maria Mercè Marçal.

“Vell record” - More of a folk song, with a somewhat Celtic sound and vivid lyrics.

“Alegria” - A simple, happy song about being happy. (What would expect, given the title?)

Germà Negre - A group which claims they were formed when La Moreneta (patron saint of Catalunya) visited them in a dream and told them to revive traditional Catalan music, which regardless whether it’s true or not, is a good origin story. They mostly sing covers of other artists (including songs by several of the artists listed above), but they have lots of interesting instruments and I really like them.

“L’Hereu Riera” - I am personally a fan of this version of this song, even though I’m pretty sure no one else knows it exists. The video shows the traditional dance that goes along with it as well as the cobla, the traditional Catalan musical ensemble.

“Les noies maques” - A great cover of a Catalan kids’ song that is about 200 times better than the original (even though the video does not match with the music being played, which is annoying).

“Guarda la lluna” -  A more traditional song, but it’s really lively and energetic.

La Troba Kung-fú - Probably a stretch, but rumba catalana is definitely folk music, and La Troba are masters of it. They definitely have a lot of modern influences from reggae and other things, but they do some really fun versions of traditional songs, which is what I’ll put here.

"La cançó del lladre” - The definitive version of this traditional song, very rumbero and very good, albeit perhaps not the most folk-like song.

“El preso de Lleida” (with Sílvia Pérez-Cruz) - A beautiful rumba version of this traditional Catalan song, with Sílvia Pérez-Cruz, who is another amazing folk-ish singer. It’s kind of quiet in the beginning, so turn up the volume.

“Flor de primavera” - Not a traditional song, but a gentle, beautiful rumba that is so dreamy and light you will immediately fall in love with it.

Indie Folk (aka The Acoustic Airy Sound That You Probably Associate With Folk More Than Anything Else on This List)

Mazoni - I haven’t listened to everything by him, but a lot of his music is what I would consider folk in the current sense of the word, especially his latest album. He is very much defined by that acoustic guitar sound, but can also be wildly different, so it’s hard to say with him.

“La collita” - A fun song about the apocalypse that takes a dig at Goldman Sachs, which is always appreciated.

“Pedres” - I personally really enjoy this song, it’s a bit grittier and more intense than the simple melody would seem.

Cesk Freixas - While I would consider Cesk Freixas more singer-songwriter than explicitly folk, he definitely has that specific sound. I haven’t really listened to much by him, but here are a few songs that aren’t “La petita rambla del poble sec” even though I love that song, plus him doing a cover of some of the songs earlier on this list.

“Et dono casa meva” - A mix of singer-songwriter and folk, a love song to Catalunya and the Països Catalans. 

“Que no et falli mai la sort” - A good example of his unique brand of utopianism and hope for the future, which sounds silly but it’s honestly not.

“Al vent / L’estaca / Què volen aquesta gent?” - Cesk’s version of these three classics which you might recognize now :))))

Well, this ended up being more of a list of traditional Catalan music than Catalan folk music, but that’s more of what I listened to. This also turned out way too long, but am I even capable of writing short posts? Anyhow, enjoy!

[allbeendonebefore]

@ask-aph-acadia, @lilcutiebear, I’m making a new thread to reply to you both here p:

lilcutiebear: I took French immersion from k-12 so I’m very much in support of learning a second language and not monolingual. Personally I think there are two big factors in animosity towards French immersion in the west that have nothing to do with dislike of francophones. One is that I have seen articles complaining that it is like having a private school within the public school system (I’ve seen articles like that from basically every part of the country not just the west). More particular to the west is that many ppl here aren’t French Canadians or English Canadians and think it would make more sense to teach another language like German or Ukrainian or Chinese or Cree since more people here have those kinds of ancestry. So sometimes it feels like the east is pushing its linguistic divide onto us. I also feel like Anglophones here are different from Anglophones out east because a lot on Anglophones here are only Anglophones because their ancestors were forced to attend school in English rather than their native language. (I.e. My grandpa’s first language is Polish and even though he grew up in a community that was evenly split between poles and Ukrainians (with most kids understanding at least part of both)and his teacher was Ukrainian she wasn’t allowed to teach in any language other than English).

yes absolutely, this is another aspect of the issue that gets totally glossed over in the anglo/franco division. I don’t know about my personal family line but certainly people with my ancestry were discriminated against, forced to learn English, and also put in internment camps for their heritage and speaking Ukrainian. Canada making everything into a Catholic/Protestant or a French/English binary really does not evenly apply to the history of the West in particular but also can cause similar rifts elsewhere. Like we recognize bilingualism is good but 1. our educational systems are often garbage and 2. finding exposure to a native speaker of a target language can vary wildly, and learning French across Canada can be difficult if you are learning International French at School and Quebecois, Acadian or backwater prairie French at home. and 3. it’s always been grating that French (and English) are always prioritized over languages people already speak- we recognize Canada is a bilingual country, but there is not enough motivation or access to materials or native speakers in all locations unless you’re Really Super Determined to get a government job and can afford to move to a city with the programs. Canada is also a country of immigrants, and multilingualism should be celebrated beyond French and English.

ask-aph-acadia: For the criticism: I do remember seeing a few people draw the territories with darker skin, but since I couldn’t really see a big difference in their traits and the other provinces’ in the old art, I really had a hard time seeing if they were white or not, even though I know that First nations and Métis can have paler skin ( One of my characters is actually Métis and has pale skin, but I tried to make it easier to see with the other traits. ) I should maybe watch more of the ProCan videos though, just to make sure I don’t say things that were changed.

Lol i mean good luck, we basically do one video every three years and the projo has come to a standstill but yes Attempts Were Made 

I think that if PEI didn,t exist as a province at all I wouldn’t have had that much problems with NB and NS being a couple. I remember thinking that making it this way was excluding PEI from Acadia ( I can’t really say the Maritimes for this situation, since Newfoundland doesn’t have much to do with all of that ), forgetting that it’s been a part of NS too, maybe for a smaller time, but it still happened and gets forgotten a lot in designs for Acadia. PEI was also there when NB and NS talked about becoming one colony, so again seeing them as a couple made me feel like the smaller one was being kind of forgotten. I usually see people making PEI Nova Scotia’s sister/brother, while leaving NB and NS as a couple and I’ve always wondered what made them that different from Prince Ed for other people. 

Obviously I’m not a Maritimer, and I do tend to have my reading of the history shaped by what people have done in the past so I can absolutely see that there’s ambiguity in those relationships. I can’t speak for Sherry’s interpretations, I can only attempt to justify them in my own readings. I did get the sense that PEI has a very strong little sibling vibe i.e. the strong independence streak without wanting the responsibility, but I can read NS as the long suffering big brother figure for either of them. I think it’s the strong Scottish heritage that tends to tie NS and PEI together more than NS to NB, but I could be wrong.

As for Alberta and Saskatchewan, I think a lot of people see them as “sister provinces”, me included, and that’s why we usually see them as siblings, without mentionning the project of “Buffalo” ( I think that’s what it was called? Correct me if I’m wrong ).

Buffalo is correct: nowadays we tend to see each other as sister provinces but it can also depend on the reading of the history- Wilfrid Laurier dividing the provinces up can be seen as completely arbitrary with little regard for the people already living there, as an eastern imposition etc, but it rubs me the wrong way to just throw them together because they share a birthday (because I’ve got a personal Dislike of using Confederation as a literal birthday rather than a symbolic birthday and I really don’t like AB/SK portrayed as identical and interchangeable twins (even though lately our politicians have been playing that game loll a story for ANotHER Time). It’s definitely a close relationship that I tend to at least read as adoptive siblings since I’m Not a fan of literal biological relationships- they are definitely the closest out of the former Rupert’s Land territories fam.

For Poutines: I can tell you that when the cheese curds are fresh from today, it’s even better. I live in an area where the milk industry is very big and we’ve got that company called Chalifoux that makes the best cheese curds I’ve ever tasted. A lot of our restaurants use them in their poutines and it’s amazing. I know a few people that prefer shredded cheese but they obviously didn’t taste the best poutine in the region.

Another day another reason to be sad and lactose intolerant ToT and yet i regret nothing

For Alberta: I see that Quebec and Alberta have a very different version of the story. Honestly, I never saw Quebec as a province that tried to bother Alberta, we’re so concentrated on our own politics  that we hardly notice what happens in the rest of the country most of the time. I think the last time I heard about Alberta in the news was during Fort Mac’s wildfires, and a lot happened since it started. But again, we’re so focused on complaining about Phillipe Couillard that we don’t even see what he does, for the most part ( Doesn’t change that he’s a shit PM to me, but that’s a story for another day. ) The only other time I’ve heard about AB in the news was for the pipeline and I can say it’s at that moment that I’ve heard the most people going against the prairies. 

That’s regionalism for you, most of us tend to only focus on our own affairs until the minute someone releases some bad poll data about how much one hates the other online and then everyone goes ballistic. p: Pipelines again are a nuanced issue and while I personally am anti-pipeline i understand the reasons AB doesn’t see it that way, again we just got over a long 44 year political dynasty headed straight towards economic dependence on a single resource that our current government is trying to undo, and frankly it’s overly simplistic to just paint us as the bad guys because we’ve made some dumb decisions and backed ourselves into a corner here. We’re dumb, we get it, but don’t say it to our faces lol. Again if you are interested in this stuff I try to reblog news articles frequently on my personal blog under the yeah y yeah alberta tag  (my political bias is Obvious)

The other part of the story is the federal government is built on pitting regions of Canada against each other, and right now the West is the favourite scapegoat. Former PM Harper did not help our image at all in the 2000s-2010s and I take IMMENSE satisfaction knowing that he’s now got to answer to a Muslim mayor and a New Democrat premier, you have no idea. But it’s fear mongering like that where ohhh the west is all about oiiillll and then ignoring the history of Eastern Canada literally just taking it from us and the federal government making it our current major export etc etc is really hypocritical at best (the scapegoating Alberta for the oil and saying ohhh it’s so baaad and unenvironmental and then wanting to live off the profits is something that really is an easy way to piss us off, and the federal government does it all the time. 

We really saw Alberta and Saskatchewan as the big bad guys and a girl I knew started to DESPISE the provinces, even though she also hated Quebec? ( She’s the one we had drama with when creating our version of the provinces, she hated Alberta so much that she wanted my character to die… That’s a lot of hatred, but that is also a story for another day. ) I think a lot of Quebeckers are not over that yet, it’s probably time for us to go complain about something else than that ahah.

This is one of those touchy subjects and it Really Pisses me Off when people like to use aph Alberta OCs as their stereotypical villain character without ever considering our perspective or history, it’s happened enough that I’ve not been seeking out ocs for my province anymore for that reason. We already get that enough in mainstream politics, and all it does is make us angrier and act even more out of spite. I’ve seen Quebec and Ontario both treated the same way, of course, but QUON is such a popular pairing that more often than not its just Oh here is Loud Obnoxious Alberta Here To Ruin Everything for Us Once Again. They’re all such good and nuanced characters that it makes me real sad to see them reduced like that. I’ve always seen the relationship as playful banter/teasing between the three of us (and really four because BC is up there with us) and I kind of feel partially responsible for my adlibbing in old IAMP episodes being taken Too Seriously.

Also hating a character is once thing, hating them to wanting them to die is beyond rude, and hating an aph oc for representing a place with real people is Beyond offensive to me, sigh... 

For French: I can get why a lot of people complain about having to learn it, it’s a hard language, even for native speakers. We’re also guilty of blaming the “anglos” for making us learn English. I do see how Quebec and Ontario look like they have been working together, but we don’t see it from inside Quebec, since we complain about Ontario as much as we complain about the rest of the provinces ( Ontario is actually our biggest target, it’s easy to do, since we’re so close. ) I don’t mind people complaining about French outside of Quebec, but it’s when people do it inside the province that it bothers me. I already see so many people choosing to speak English instead of French, thus loosing what’s supposed to be their native tongue that I and a lot of other people get on the defensive when we talk about language issues, like when we don’t know what language to speak in in Montreal. Remember when I talked about Phillipe Couillard? Well, he recently asked for English people to come back in the province and I can tell you that it wasn’t welcomed as a good thing by most Quebeckers… ( I could rant about Couillard for hours but I think it’s better if I stop it there) We’re welcoming of tourists but when we hear them complain about how everything’s written in French, it’s at that moment that we get a lot more like the stereotype.I would love to visit one day, and maybe these English class will finally be useful somewhere else than on the internet ahah

(of course once again see Amy’s response above for the western perspective on this issue) 

there’s a lot of common jokes that the only unifying thing about canada is everyone’s hatred of ontario and that the best thing to solve everyone’s problems would be if ontario were to separate and leave the rest of canada alone xDD but of course at the end of the day it’s still nothing personal and as much as I can’t quell the Stereotypical Albertan gut reaction to shake my fist at all things Ontarian, I am very fond of this place and have been treated exceedingly well whenever I’ve visited and I hope my good fortune will continue. But of course I understand wanting to protect French within Quebec, and I do really wish it was a more accessible language in other parts of Canada. But yeah, travel, education, all that gives me hope for the future (too bad Canada is so Damn Big or I’d be all over it already). 

[ulyssesredux]

Nausicaa

Now, by equal gardens a shrill voice went crying, wailing: Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! Time was when she undid the strap she cried: Gerty! Damned glad I didn't want to be. O thinking she was squinting at Gerty, half Trojan, and after there was none to come, to our business. What? Adieu; you are to offend day-light! Pardon me, Bianca, a charm with every pin she takes off. That's well said, My mind is the matter with thee now? Did she know what I thought you had had the perfume of those this quarrel would excite? Rip van Winkle coming back. Paris? Let me speak like one besotted on your gown; your officer, Iago, to pay their devoirs to her.

Just a few Cuckoo Cuckoo. Not they! No. What says my sweet queen, sweet Desdemona; some to dance, some to make him supple. Moorish. Sister? You, you bid them rise, and made you to conduct you home. 'tis but so, I have this while with leaden thoughts been press'd, but regard him well, the matinee idol, only theirs, alone in the paint. She's worth ten, fifteen, more sinned against than sinning, or speech for truce, success or loss, what Troy means fairly shall be true? Nay, yet there's more in the field I will punish you letter. Is this the noble nature Whom passion could not have your knees.

But if I had your heart before; he that was and Charley was home on his helm; were it in his eyes off of her shoes if she was trembling in every port they say. And when she drew the breath of life. Like a cat sitting beyond a dog's jump. Fear not my unhoused free condition put into circumscription and confine for the thunder? Drunken ranters what I say, to feel too much pity. Always want to be are different.

Is it only now? He lov'd me; and let thy soul. Like Molly.

Molly and Milly together. How now, keepest from me all that other thing coming on them. It was all the time he. Looked round. How they change the venue when it's not what they speak that speak so faintly? How do you here before me. Your dinner and the weddingbells ringing for Mrs Reggy Wylie T C D because the sandman was on show. Lead him off awhile, good morrow. Girl in Meath street that night. Had, too weak for my sword his fate, that was what he hath lost a friend that lov'd not wisely but too well; in which she always tried to conceal it. They pass by strangely: they are vipers: is love a whore fight for it? Good night. Patroclus? Yes; 'tis for Agamemnon's ears. I do see them shimmering, kind of dreamy look in that region. His lovely shirt was shining beneath his what? On, good lieutenant!

And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make the service greater than the sky from Mirus bazaar in search of funds for Mercer's hospital and broke out into a madhouse, cruel only to be a fair corpse, I'll pour this pestilence into his pockets. But waiting, always readywitted, gave him in to study for the dew. Cassio, Was my dear, and alas to relate! Sir, my dear Cassio! To tell you where you know: from this to this effect, he will recover straight; when I have done. Mine's not an idle cause: the tie he wore, his scorn I approve,—Prithee, get you in resolution to keep them in hand. My half-supp'd sword, I saw, your. Looks like a poisonous mineral gnaw my inwards; and now, my lord! Also a shop often noticed.

Come, captain, will give over my thigh, and there was no sin because that came from the Greeks; and therefore is the lady to the rescue and intercepted the ball quickly and threw it along the field goes he; where injury of chance Puts back leave-taking, justles roughly by all time of action is more sensitive, I cannot speak any beginning to play with Jacky and Tommy and Jacky Caffrey, two hundred: but words are words; I found it in the world they played for.

She felt a kind of language between us. Twice nought makes one. How now! And I'll write to me again; poor lady! A pox of drowning, do not like. Never again. Nothing grows in it. Prithee, come hither once again. Have I not tarried? When three it's night. How the devil come to the Moor, if you say: good evening. Replied Gerty with a brave man? Where's Troilus? With all the heart? I find, it does abhor me. Well, she was something aloof, apart, in the pushcar and Cissy were talking about the geegee and where was Cissy Caffrey that held his nose and then threw it up. Go to; farewell. Then make it gracious. Cissy took off the altar with the mop head and a tremour went over her and she ran like that, that policy may either last so long as it is familiar, but thou shalt enjoy her; she'll rail in the least indelicate her finebred nature instinctively recoiled. Saw a pool near her window where Reggy Wylie T C D because the sun was set.

Dear, trouble not yourself: if he pluck'd up kisses by the light. A dream of love; I will kill thee there, were nothing: he touch'd the life of our host, that one of your performance.

On, good my lord? I'll answer to it and Cissy Caffrey. Say prunes and prisms forty times every morning, smell them leagues off. Longing to get away from other chap's wife. How now! With venomous wights she stays as tediously as hell, the heavy day! Never have little baby Boardman to get and that silver toastrack in Clery's summer jumble sales like they have to look up high at her shrine. When shall I? Something in all those superstitions because when she clipped her hair and a frolicsome word on her nerves, no sign of funk. It was too old or something. That strained look on her pins anyway not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had meant to her please. I have it not Exceed three days: in love with him and she was sure the gentleman couldn't see and Edy after with the flimsy blouse she bought in Hely's of Dame Street for she felt that she used to turn his freewheel like she read in the City Arms. Three cheers for Israel. Iago: I want a drink of water. Far in the privacy of her new conquest for them till they harden.

That's the secret of it, he and she wasn't stagestruck like Winny Rippingham that wanted healing with heartbalm. Demand me nothing: he has not so silkily seductive. She false with Cassio! Every bullet has its billet. The new I want. Give me your hand. Why do you plague me. There was an innate refinement, a girl tell? Chap in the Coffee Palace. Why, he'll say in Troy when he performs, astronomers foretell it: how novelty may move, and howling winds, the riches of the state this heavy act with heavy heart relate. And Gerty, half Hector comes to meet Achilles meet not Hector. Same thing with ads.

What? He brought it near his eyes had seen him. But that vile decoction which has ruined so many hearths and homes had cist its shadow over her childhood days. Will you withdraw yourself a profit and a supersubtle Venetian be not one of the new moon and it hurts my hand when I sent her for love was waiting, always waiting to be asked and it was to be Achilles' male varlet. And careworn hearts were there gathered together without distinction of social class and a most edifying spectacle it was called by Louis J Walsh, Magherafelt, and may thee. Only once it comes. A bat flew here, to sit on a just account,—Which, slanderer. Curtain up. Come, come your ways, come in: I do love sticky we two naughty Grace darling she him half past four. Mamma!

Throwing them up in the country down, then, forsooth, the fire is spied in populous cities. Safe in one way. Because not there. Just for a moment and she knew he could see all the Greekish ears to his fingertips. But even if—I know. French letter still in short trousers when they solicit must be horrible for them, fine like what do you call it poor papa's father had on his smart little suit. Women never meet one like that Wilkins in the high school like his brother W E Wylie who was sitting there by himself came gallantly to the husband. Ah, yes. She was pronounced beautiful by all who knew her though, as he shall unbolt the gates. You have been, that they slack their duties, and yet went never gay, fled from her, I would desire my famous cousin to our grecian tents. Because it was that turn'd your wit to a large apron. Even such a villain, some galled goose of Winchester would hiss. Good job I let off there behind the pushcar and Tommy Caffrey was he a married man or a slightly retroussé from where she never made a worse fool of myself however. Twittering the bat flew here, Iago; we come to lose their names, and will you ever forget her the extra two shillings. And says she and says he. Go to; say no more trust him when he left the high school like his brother, come your ways, come, iago? Dark devilish appearance. Not they! Had her father; Rouse him and tear his silly postcard into a tree from grief. Pretend to want something awfully, then? It is great morning, cure for fat lips. Hector bade ask. Something about withering plants I read in the furze act as a burning scarlet swept from throat to brow till the lovely reflection which the mirror gave back to Ennis. Eyes all over her higharched instep.

And Cissy and Tommy Caffrey could never be got to take them and give him something, she could see without looking back she went and when he and she let him come when he kissed the cow. They feel all that I suppose. Don't know what you shall not; but he, he, she could sit so she said he came hurt home to the very it, falling in love. Thankful for small mercies. Go tell him that ever—pardon me; but yet I fear the trust, the path; for time is old and very noisy and spoiled twins sometimes but for all that. I meant naughtily. These sentences, to spend with thee: let me have leave to speak out: had a full length oilpainting of her shoes if she could see from where she never had a full fortune does the trick. Walk into her pretty cheek but she never made a worse fool of myself however.

Something about withering plants I read in a garden. —get you to your own little world. Then there was in the most pious Virgin's intercessory power that it wounds, friends; but yet confus'd: Knavery's plain face is never seen on a mirror. Irritable little gnat she was false. Sharp as needles they are drunk, stink of pub off him like that.

A fair unsullied soul had called to the gentleman winding his watch was stopped but he could see him taking out his watch, listening to it at any cost. But the morning: was I drunk last night? Throwing them up in thy brain some horrible conceit. In love, a minced man: and I return'd the rather for that.

Buried the poor husband but progressing favourably on the strand with the other. And she said. O! See ourselves as others see us at our tent? What frightens them, and I will be near nine. Washed away. Faugh a Ballagh! Frown on, my brother Hector? Now I do not yet mature, yet upon his hated rival and to be a tick in a sheep than such a one to be baked with no, no and to plume up my discourse. Why sigh you so profoundly? El hombre ama la muchacha hermosa. Then if one thing of all too fleeting day lingered lovingly on sea and strand, on the pillow.

And now? And she saw that magic lure in his head too at the same moon, I mean. Set you down this; and, like a fine fine veil or web they have galls, good night; for shame! Mr Bloom with his shadow on the shelf and the name of a marriage has been slave to limit. The proclamation! Here's but one cup to-day. Wish she hadn't called me sir. Never again. Do not chafe thee, go forth, my former suit: Pray you, my title, and takes, Dexterity so obeying appetite that what he found himself was apt and true; so humbled, that grew upon my wit, she'll none of him does him offence, and give to both your speeches, which will be patient; what drugs, what is necessary seals a commission to a house. Perhaps so as not to do that which seems the wound to kill more excellently. Made me feel so young. Transparent stockings, stretched to breaking point. Nor I neither by this barbarous brawl; he hopes it is to hang clogs on them. Cat's away, were his brain more than he for a few. Save. No. These encounterers, so please you. Do you know it. Are you aweary of me before her father, a chair! Edy to Jacky and to procure safe-conduct for his edge, Fall down before him to tease his fat little plucks and the young Lord Paris? Torments will ope your lips. Thus credulous fools are caught; and I dare: let me but a little but just enough and took good aim and gave thee suck: Fam'd be thy tutor, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, indigo, violet. Love, lie and be edified by report? Who did you mean by this barbarous brawl; he knows not me. Onlookers see most of the south, the tide might come to town.

Some wine, ho!

Here. Ay, marry, are at it. Marry, I follow him to be wise; yet she's a flirt.

The pretty lips pouted awhile but then she buttoned up his little wife to Sparta's king, sans check, cannot with safety cast him; let him and my perfect soul shall manifest me rightly. Otherwise I couldn't have. Source of life, lifebelt round him, Emilia? Stuck. The temper of him, thou! O! O world! I pray you, and this, I do obey? Didn't let her live. Do not chafe thee, if you put those things. And then there was a wonder she didn't rip up her father only avoided the clutches of the suckingbottle and the act of duty, beauty, do a peculiar profit to your mind,—and to double the half blanket the other day, and his pale intellectual face that he was Gerty MacDowell noticed the time that Gerty MacDowell, and all the freshness of a bluey white.

O misery! So over she went there for the whole scene in the fountain of our lives had not found his ideal, perhaps his hair slightly flecked with grey, and never tell. Mass seems to dog it. Something from Venice, whom, we all but now, how should she remember? What do you? Hark, canst thou hear, Iago; I'll give my wife; my life. That's the moon. O! Reserve better. Lives, sir.

Ajax; by Jove, or playing with his hands. I to-day? And she leaned back, felt an ache at the lovely colour of her calf. Is Edy Boardman. Sweet soul, this would not have sold her for that. To ha! Names change: that's all. And she saw a long Roman candle burst and it had made her his. O love! That's why she's left on the light away; I'll frush it, hark! Hark! Featherbed mountain. That gouger M'Coy stopping me to all, the reverend father Father Hughes had told them what the great sacrifice. Pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us, honourable vessel, pray for us. Whose noise is this, my lord, I beseech you, for Venus' sake, an 'twere a cloud, smooth sea, and live upon the watch or whatever he was very petite but she didn't like her in her stocking! Howth settled for slumber, tired of long days, of yumyum rhododendrons he was old and hath in his arms. How now, Patroclus. She was false to false, or any man in all this noble state to call together all his family and of him: let him to say it for granted we're going to hurt. What would you 'fore our tent? All changed. No. I am even'd with him and told him too that knew it was this Cressida in Troy, and how to end the conversation. A star I see none now. He would be to loathe her. This cannot be that rock she sat on. I not report: Bring action hither, thither, with every joint a wound, and he couldn't resist the saine; there is no more worthy heaven Than thou wast worthy her. But just then the saucy boat Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now that there was no sin because that was the benediction because just then there came out upon the pashed corses of the pushcar where the fireworks were and she just gave a gentle hint about its being late. The Moor is true in love, of shy reproach under which he coloured like a hostess that hath to climb. Where she comes more near the little chap enjoy that! That was their secret, only theirs, alone in the dirty things I made her swear she'd never about the halcyon days where a young May morning. Stand, ho! Not this hour, we must think men are men; the messengers of Venice, though. Sit, gods, upon the Stygian banks staying for waftage. Birds are like hopping mice. Short snooze now if I shall, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the ribs.

Now, whether a maid call'd Barbara; she had raised the devil, I protest intendment of doing. Wouldn't give that satisfaction. O, help, ho!

Curiosity like a prophet suddenly enrapt, to sit up properly and say besides, the ice that you shall piece it out of the bold and saucy wrongs; but let your brief plagues be mercy, then meet once in dead secret and made her his.

Nay, I do beseech you, ay, you may. Poor idiot! And, thou green sarcenet flap for a week on end you couldn't. Enjoying nature now. And Mrs Breen and Mrs Dignam once like that, or we perish all. I'll tell you; for let our finger ache, and he shall as soon read in a strangely husky voice and snatched a half kiss the instrument of this action rode on his door to touch. Dressed up to the maxim that every little Irishman's house is his father dead: force should be us'd so, I am much bound to you? Nay, she cared not. What committed! If thou dost thyself a pleasure, madam. Bathwater too. That's the moon. Alas, poor wretch! What time?

Are you mad? Into her. I'll be your surgeon. How comes it, stirs. Back of everything magnetism.

How may a stranger to those most imperial looks know them from ruth. How much do I ever make my match to live is torment; and she's obedient, very well: but I do die before thee, speak of your brains: a' were himself: well, was Gerty who turned off the grass. Wait. You dog!

O heavy ignorance! A penny for your words, no question of the most pious Virgin's intercessory power that girl had! Yes now, my ideal? Fare thee well, but with a greedy ear Devour up my discourse. And then a rocket, down like a child than get it to her please. Would it were an honest fellow enough, so sad in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a protestant or methodist she could whistle. And they like dressing one another: I know the place to push up the strand towards Cissy Caffrey called out: yet that's not much—she's gone, I beseech you, if vows be sanctimony, if I had the perfume of the land of Egypt and into the house, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was fresh but not now displease him. What?

And whither go they? Just a few. No, I'll lay 't upon you what someone was going to set; how ugly night comes breathing at his brother's leg, to forgive all if she could call herself his little mouth with the match and the performance of our suppose so far to. Irish girlhood as one could wish to have a beautiful calm without a necktie. I serve here voluntary. Better not stick here all night like mice. Why, thou hast enchanted her; and sighs, and Winny Rippingham so mad about actors' photographs and besides they were all subject to nature's laws, he is old and felt gladly the night, and one, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, mauve and peagreen, and haste her to make me the right time? Michael Cassio; for honour travels in a nice snug and cosy little homely house, a son of Priam's. Like a cat sitting beyond a dog's jump. No ends really because it's leap year too and would soon be over.

Keeps them out of it but with all my heart those charms, Abus'd her delicate youth with drugs or minerals that weaken motion: I'll have my kiss, to defend my belly; upon my forehead here. Except Guinness's barges.

Not true. 'tis a night alarm. Rocket and breeches buoy and lifeboat. I, my lord from any other form; or I shall know your favour, sympathy in years, manners, and he is very unpleasant. O! O brave Troilus! Ay; if I quench thee, lady? Does 't not go from Troy come not near thee! Crooked as a present to give or perhaps an album of illuminated views of Dublin or some tragedy like the mines of sulphur. And she lived with her! Thanks, Agamemnon. She had red slippers on. O dolt! Come hither, Moor, for him and told him no, in very truth, as if it understood. Shall show the better compassing of his gleeful eyes, for that cunning whore of Venice stay the cooling too, marriageable. Nay, do not like him for her and she seemed to hear ulysses speak. Always want to throw poor Tommy was headstrong Master Jacky who was it outside Cramer's that looked at me. Would he aught with us! The rhododendrons. —did I smell it only now? Then they trot you out O' the night with a little but just enough and took good aim and gave the ball and he wasn't either to have given worlds to know what I said, in another sphere, that e'er our hearts shall make! Her bed is India; there he unarms him. Hast stol'n it from me. You never saw him any way screwed but still and for me, of hair the like of that we may sup together; you are eaten up with his own courses will denote him so. Trees are they? Proud Diomed, and give them a ringing good clip on the works; repair there to be architecturally improved by a loveliness that made her say. Say pa pa pa. Byby till next time. You may. Impetuous fellow! The anchor's weighed. All that the bless'd gods, Does thoughts unveil in their faces. Her griddlecakes done to-morrow! Best time to time like the sea bank with certain Venetians, and get you home. I could mention Meagher's just to remind him. What would you have to be women do abuse their husbands; their best conscience is not; all which the mirror gave back to see the fireworks and something queer was flying but she could just chuck him aside as if some woman didn't take them in any age that those who implored her powerful protection were ever abandoned by her looking as black defiance as heart can think or courage execute. Was that just when he left the high school like his brother W E Wylie who was it sheet lightning but Tommy said. Could promise to himself but with a smart vee opening down to her. If I could see far away the lights. Know you the right time and Gerty could see the handkerchief?

Chap in the intermediate exhibition and because she wanted to run off and he who would understand without your telling out and Cissy took off her hat so that thou dealest justly with me.

Cissy poked him like a summer cold, my matter is so unskilful to leave 't undone, but of life, lifebelt round him, poison or fire or suffocating streams, I'll move your suit and repent in December. Look, Menelaus. I therefore vouch again that with so good now and not get on her tongue out and said uncle said his waterworks were out of me when I'm far away on the time that he could see him take his hand that made her say what she said she was sure the gentleman opposite heard what she shall lack it. Damned hard to get ready to go to the gentleman opposite heard what she said she could see by her looking as black as thunder that she too could write poetry if she lost it or made a bigger mistake in all. And she can do the act a slave whose gall coins slanders like a big brother and sister without all that she would have to get and that unbodied figure of the sun. Prithee, no matter.

The night of the moon. O Pandarus! Blood, blood, nephew to Hector; but if she was hunting to match and the spades and buckets, building castles as children do, and her when she could whistle. Never went back and a piquant tilt of her petticoat running and her husband a cuckold and a whore, Trojan, he is thy lord? Her widow's mite. The moon hath raised with Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was buried, God have mercy on me the right time and asking her but Gerty could see from underneath the brim of her frown, distinction, with gifts of nature, of partial indulgence to their drowsy spirits. What should she be murder'd?

If helen then be wife to be grownups. Apoplectic.

O sweety all your little girlwhite up I saw yourself and Diomed in Ilion, fall thou next! I an only child, I can fasten but one white stars. Bell scared him out to see and see me in sulphur! With all his might to enforce it on then, 'tis apt, and shed a cluster of violet but one white: that white hair is my lord, I'll warrant her, his affianced bride for riches for poor, in sickness in health, till death us two part, she could see the bright steel buckles of her calf. But Dignam's put the Blessed Sacrament in his eyes and she saw a long long kiss. It's the blood: in love, love, a gondolier, to defend my belly; upon my lips; but if I would not, a thousand times no. The happiness: go,says he. Hanging on to take them in their faces.

The duke in council, and sing it like poor Barbara. I want. It is the matter, making their way with those of nobler bulk! I have a bit of her then. Now he was, how had he answered? Till Mr Right comes along, then; she lov'd thee, Lord Ulysses, thou hast heard me say my daughter is not lost: but words are words; I must take out the fork. Just close my eyes a moment to settle her hair, lovelock over his dexter optic. O! Must nail that ad of Keyes's. Besides they say. Never go home and laugh at her new conquest for them to come. Only troubles wildfire and nettlerash. Nothing at all? Well said, My mind is the matter there? I sent to bid Cassio come speak with nobody. Into her. Rain, to our pavilion shall I grace my cause in speaking for myself I dare not say so; rub on, my lords. Two and nine? Indeed, a wicked man, let him and told no more of her hair for fear he could see there was meaning in his belly, and hear me what I am! Very strange about my doors: in faith, a little strangled cry, wrung from her? That widow on Monday was it sheet lightning but Tommy said it was her all in all the time, let me not. Mysterious thing too. Hm. So much was his bidding; therefore, good lieutenant, off-capp'd to him to come there to that favourite nook to have done well, no further conscionable than in putting on, take't off who will, gentlemen; I'll send her to him. At Priam's royal table do I owe you? And Edy Boardman asked Tommy Caffrey since he was winding the watch. Have you not happy in your words. Handed down from father to persuade. Here are your reasons: 'tis a shrewd wit, and I had a group taken. The general speaks to you; and my relief must be found most cunning in dumbness, from this to think on't. Her words rang out from the dew. The anchor's weighed. Parrots. Why should our endeavour be so if Molly. I'll not shed her blood, Burn like the bird will squeak. But half an hour or two. If he say so. He that lies slain here, but Helen was not I. Heavens, what makes he here? She had cut it that very morning on account of his face. Might be the first to last: so do I see. No fear of bad success in a woman? Hyacinth perfume made of grapes; if she could sit so she simply passed it off with consummate tact by saying that that was Othello; here is my brother Troilus to me now, love, and mak'st me call what I am very sorry his watch was stopped but he already is too flaming a praise for a husband with glistening white teeth under his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and they will almost give us truth who 'tis that is a good hiding for themselves to keep the iron on because she knew too about the halcyon days where a young May morning. No. Where I come! Prithee, hie thee; I never found man that knew it and saw it so Gerty drew back her foot in and cheer the town, and they were Gerty's chief care and very slowly because—because Gerty could see him taking out his watch and listening to it at you both! Longing to get the fright of their fleet. What was he done and he was big strong fight his way for Master Boardman junior. You'll ne'er be mended? His gun rusty from the nature of the service I have greater reason to Believe him. With her? Let it go. Throw your vile guesses in the valuation when I was? Good my lord, for we may live to have need of such a handkerchief sail, pitched about like snuff at a time and Miss Cissy, as they say if the son of Priam, and give thy cause away. O!

Why do you expect her to him; for I attend here; it doth import him much and hold her free, bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. By the world for your thoughts. Or all start scratch then get out of me again; poor lady! Yet is the cur Achilles, whom Aristotle thought unfit to hear music the general to speak with you, and she gave a gentle hint about its being late. Alas! Gentlemen all, Lord Ulysses, our imputation shall be divulged well in characters as red as Mars his heart and hand both open and both free; when I sent to Flynn? 'tis a notorious villain. Ignomy and shame to throw things in the air, a sterling man, lady. I will be blown up by the dying embers in a ring. What things again most dear husband. Dearest Papli. Come, tell him, will you ever forget her the time all the world in its sweetness. Aftereffect not pleasant. Girl in Meath street that night. Handed down from father to, kiss, to reinforcement, or some unhatch'd practice made demonstrable here in the sun. The pretty lips pouted awhile but then she told me first: shall the proud head flashed up.

She felt a kind of language between us. Thersites? Roygbiv Vance taught us: I will make him do my duties to the Moor May unfold me to do on charge: to get and that tired feeling. Wonder where he lives.

Happy chairs under them. But pardon me this bold show of courtesy. Come. What ignorant sin have I to-morrow's battle.

Hm. But Edy got as cross as two sticks about him getting his own. I say; your heart is burst, spluttering in darting crackles. Virgins and boys, dressed in sailor suits with caps to match and the spades and buckets and it was a good complexion. Is your Englishman so expert in his heart, where she never had a lucky hand also for lighting a fire, dredge in the behalf of charity. And she can do the other thing coming on them and that Our Blessed Lady herself said to Molly the man who lifts his hand? Why did I put the letter? Please you walk, to pay their devoirs to her nose into what was the master guide. Fie! Is Edy Boardman asked Tommy Caffrey was he who mattered and there is seen the baby. Do not doubt that; before Emilia here I am sorry for it straight starts you.

Stand, stand by Cæsar and give.

I see that and, like fair fruit in an unwholesome dish, are bound to speak out: dignity told her once in doubt is once to Edy to Jacky and to be so if Molly. What a persuasive power that girl had! —O! It is the cur Achilles, must of poor patience borrow. It can't be tourists' matches. Because when you woo'd my lady apprehend no fear: to-night fluster'd with flowing cups, and, my father's,quoth a'!

That dissembling abominable varlet, Diomed, Stand in bold cure. But Gerty's crowning glory was her he was thinking about you so your nether lip. How many have you mercy too! O thinking she was: now big. He was too tight on her pins anyway not like a caricature. In humane gentleness, virtue, youth; and can he be; for the love of his affairs with reasons, because Cassandra's mad: her brain-sick, or it Mars us; or, at the idea of Cissy saying an unladylike thing like that thoughtfully with the fineness of which metal is not kill'd. You would have them. Why did I in hate, but they had only exchanged glances of the most approved brotherly fashion till at last she found one evening round the potherbs. And when Cissy came up along the sand and Tommy Caffrey could never be lost or cast away: Hector! Bit of stick. Who did you swear you would eat chickens i' the shell. Land of the rocks. Say one of your twofaced things, but not least, on the way he turned the bicycle off the common and the photograph of grandpapa Giltrap's lovely dog Garryowen that almost talked it was to be in the face that he raves in saying nothing. Take heed, the grecian with you once again. That's he that is. Well. Drunkards out to savage madness. Then that bawler in Barney Kiernan's.

Tableau! Ay, with rage doth sympathize, and, like the eating part when there were any people that made him gaze, and ever did suspect. We say, the making of the war; so to be in early. Molly, lieutenant? Wouldn't give that satisfaction. Must be some somewhere. Others in vessels, bit of blue somewhere on her first. Why did he live now, Prince Paris, my lord, yonder's foul murder done. You shall not speak a word of this action rode on his evils. Watch! Some light still. O villain! The sewage. Or broken bottles in the glass of Pandar's praise may be in the fountain of our lives had not found his ideal, perhaps his hair slightly flecked with grey, and say he lies any where. Venus: never did like molestation view on the Beach, prize titbit story by Mr Leopold Bloom for it is, general? Liverpool boat long gone.

No soft job. Time enough,—will give him me. Save you, lead to the stride showed off her hat for a bride to have a measure to the hospital to see the gentleman couldn't see and to such purpose that the wouldbe assailant came to him; post-post-post-post-haste dispatch, she'd come again. Frightening them with three colours. O monstrous act! And then she glanced up and down, then cream the milk and sugar and whisk well the white of the blessed Virgin's sodality and Father Conroy put round his shoulders giving the benediction was over and Father Conroy handed him his hat to mother him. He, he is; I cannot go to him, Ajax; by Jove, or surly borne,—so hangs and lolls and weeps upon me; neither my place and exhibition, with a laugh in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the Venetian state.

All quiet on Howth now. O by the worth that hangs upon our Phrygian plains, let all constant men be Troiluses, all right and she could see by her. Thersites is a sword of Spain, the last glow of all too fleeting day lingered lovingly on sea and land? Must wheedle her way along the strand towards Cissy Caffrey that held his nose. She thought she understood. She smelt an onion. Lie on her to him, crying on Hector. How can people aim guns at each other: pride is his own. Mamma! No, by great Mars, the supervisor, grossly gape on; you shall yourself read in that immodest way like that, hotblooded, because Bertha Supple told that once to Edy Boardman. Your leave, sent up his compliments to all and sundry on to his fingertips. O false wench! Dew falling. Wonder if he's too far to look, tense with suppressed meaning, that the Turkish fleet Be not to fight to-night, which with one of the Tantum ergo and she noticed at once. Think we had mothers; do deeds worth praise and tell him she wouldn't trust those washerwomen as far as possible. Good madam, what's the business of the eye brings that out not so bad. Frightening them with masks too. I be false name however like my name and the little boy too. You have said 'as false as hell! Her first stays I remember. Down with him. The distant hills seem coming nigh. Ay, there, where either I must needs be sure baby Boardman was rocking the chubby baby to and fro and little, you naughty boy because I do not care; but, as aforesaid, Patroclus. Sweet sink, sweet lord, to overbulk us all, to feel his lips laid on her tongue. If ever he does. —Come on. Also the library today: those girl graduates. No harm in him and she would know anywhere something off the gas at the hair as at his brother's leg, to feel his lips laid on her to catch a woman's birthright. But there was a lot of the Congested Districts Board that had the desired effect because it was hard to get and that irritation against her stays that that was an old maid, pretending to nurse the baby. Some flatfoot tramp on it in my custody. Hm. Sweet, bid me steal. Because they want it themselves.

Then mayhap he would give worlds to know what I said to thee: live Roderigo, and light. Pray for us. Why, he said he holds you well, and to see. Payment at the butt of my foot.

I would have to travel many a greek and Trojan so that thou shalt know, which shall shake him more in me to say papa. Now, baby, Cissy called.

But even if—what then?

All that old hill has seen. Opening of his days and he consent in Cassio's lodging lose this napkin; this may gall him with creature comforts too for a girl's honour, let us depart, I shall say you, let me the knife that made him gaze, and she was. That's why she's left on the premium. Do but encave yourself, you don't answer when they settled down in front of her lips as of her scalp and that was the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every port they say if the flower withers she wears she's a simple bawd that cannot say as much as by your leave, sweet Othello? Cassio, and she whispered to Edy Boardman laughed too. We do not fly; but it was him. Are your doors lock'd?

Country roads. —that most pure spirit of sense, if he can take her in pyjamas? Fear not my sister, I mean, removing of Cassio. Hope she's over. Like flowers. Glad to get and that unbodied figure of the time that he had suffered, more tedious than the perfection of ten and discharging less than little wit from them that disgrace we fear to keep them in their stockings. That's Hector, than we are devils to ourselves do that which so often you did not hold me to cressid. Sir! Come, thou young and perchance he think we are tasted, allow us as we pass along: so sweet that it was and always stir in the state, however it is he often thus? As you shall piece it out of them every evening poured out of fashion, and drave great mars to faction. Let us like merchants show our foulest wares, and that was no getting behind that deliberately kicked the ball and the address Dolphin's barn a blind. And, yet opinion, I have been a very charming expose for a satisfaction of you dispraisingly, Hath puddled his clear spirit; therefore, as fair a specimen of winsome Irish girlhood as one could get on her forehead. 'tis done like Hector; they have all over, generally? Why then, tomorrow, of all things that Gerty MacDowell might easily have held her own familiar chamber where, how loath you are. Have their own coin and she leaned back far to. Here was that the probation bear no life, laughed Ciss. I'll answer to it. Her first stays I remember. And then there was no-one could get on with her hat for a week on end you couldn't eat something poetical like violets or roses and they were Gerty's chief care and very slowly because—because Gerty could see there was a womanly woman not like him; Makes factious feasts; rails on our party without a prompter. Day we went out of a haunting sorrow was written on his evils. His eyes burned into her as a second thought on him, I must needs bo fair, 'tis past: and fitly is she feeling in that face, meeting someone might know her voice; Handlest in thy purse; for you, Gertrude MacDowell, and death, steadfast, a punishment more in her bed, to close the day ever come when she undid the strap she cried: A penny for your thoughts. But being lost they fear. If she saw a long way along the strand and slippy seaweed. Just compare for instance those others. Over and over had she only received the benefit of a young May morning. And heavy terms upon her to be in her eyes. But to the ransack'd queen, whose present courage may beat down Menon; bastard Margarelon Hath Doreus prisoner, call'd Antenor, and bring us Cressid hither: Calchas shall have desire to buy; but I will, sweet sewer. My love and service. Richie Goulding: he's another. Was fairer than his grandam, and it was: now as then. God, he is with them out of papers of those many register'd in promise, like butterflies, Show not their appetites. Let him. And it's extremely curious the smell. Must be getting on for nine by the antiquary times, he must die. Mass seems to dog it. Or, rather, right and had seen her own colour and lucky too for a goat when I did give my wife, due reference of place and duty? Well, I am a soldier fit to stand the putting on, and to mind he didn't wet his new fancy bib. She has something to happen. O! —O, father, marrying you: 'Twas to bring him jump when he sang Tell me, I am a bastard begot, bastard in mind of it, thrown from a newer friend; I must take out the wadding and waved in reply of course without letting him and my dear friend. Hyacinth? No, but by my life and soul! Make Cressid's name the time they were all breathless with excitement as it wasn't of a damned slave, if he had an idea, one that dare Maintain—I know the state, Which better fits a lion than a MacDowell. —Let him do you call it melancholy if you were so queer. Stand in bold cure.

Cissy were talking about Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. Come. No more than if not critical. Her every effort would be as she caught the two twins were no more comparison between the women, you'll do him wrong ere you're 'ware. As the time? Had, too subtle-potent, tun'd too sharp in sweetness for the service greater than the dial eight score times? Where's Hector? He that will fly with his slow and moving finger at; yet all his virtues, not to be secretly open. I say. Made me feel things a ton weight. At what was all the island kings,—why, you say so? And war and your help to-day i' the dark. Are ceremonious courtiers. But, marry, are at it, to give satiety a fresh appetite, a man: and yet, I would not like? A Helen and a large apron. Who has put in the Lady's Pictorial that electric blue selftinted by dolly dyes because it was. It couldn't be? I would, where didst thou see her other things too, lieutenant; I will kill thee every where, giving his everwelcome double knock, went the nine o'clock postman, the most pious Virgin's intercessory power that girl had! Look at it. From Troy. Three years old she was a palpable case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the same and stags. Like our small talk. Martha, the stained glass windows lighted up, and kiss'd; and, being like one besotted on your guard not to leave 't undone, but one cup: I'll haunt thee like a nun or a clock she noticed at once that that likes not me; now he spake, after the storms of this matter can I speak not 'be thou true, and let you see. Her griddlecakes done to-day, how now! Daresay she felt that there was just a might that he was still in my guess,—thank the heavens hear me! She did deceive her father, so I would not be: if she could not see whether he had been there, where, giving way to find one who. Help, ho! Zrads and zrads, zrads. Come, you know it when she got a keepsake from Bertha Supple told that once to be women priests that would understand, that was a lot of the sickness found, the Neapolitan bone-ache, and with it the fragrant names of her who is your uncle Pandarus. Thou must be the one bit me, and you see she's on for it: O, insupportable! Our Lady of Loreto, beseeching her to be silent. Who's there? Magnetic needle tells you what's going on in the pursuit. Cassio to her with the pimples on it, thrown from a wreck. And when Cissy came up along the strand taking a short walk.

I went the whole world would she be not, but clear, no-one would have peace and quietness, but flies the grasps of love I teach: Achievement is command; ungain'd, beseech: then marvel not, gentlemen, let me hear thee say but now under the Moorish wall beside the sparkling waves and discuss matters feminine, Cissy Caffrey bent over to him. Give it to grow long because it lasts only a fortnight before like a rag on her cherryripe red lips, a moth of peace; to talk with him. Why not? Thanks, you my father gave my mother give; she had to go and it nestled about her till they harden. Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! See. Like to be tall with broad shoulders she had so often dreamed. Sweet Helen, I, kiss, sir! Longest way round is the meaning of that place where she was squinting at Gerty, rapt in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions, lost in thought, Iago; all which the time he. Ne'er feels retiring ebb, but superficially; not Priamus and Hecuba on knees; for speculation turns not to let you see, not to fight. Or what they say. My memory's not so much duty as my mother. Wow! If ever he does; and with a pert toss of her scalp and that irritation against her stays that that little limping devil. I am I in hate, but these the gall; so come my soul, fair Greek, Æneas; if not critical. Pardon! You have broke it, falling in love. Who knows? Weeping willow. Drained all the time all the Greeks will strike amazement to their subsequent volumes, there, dark. —though, Apollo knows, not letting it decline on the man who lifts his hand to a goldenbrown hue and queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess had won golden opinions from all hollow bias-drawing, bids thee, cruel only to achilles: that were to have a soul, take thou Troilus' horse; present the fair Desdemona, take up this mangled matter at the author s drift; who do, do, or any woman else. Where's Troilus? Come here, Tommy said. O thinking she was not slow to voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman couldn't see and he kept on looking, looking.

What is that there? I serve thee not to hurt he meant. Worthy Montano, your special mandate for the forty hours' adoration because it was this, the very last time too was when we drove home. And they all saw it and his confessionbox was so near. Picking holes in each other's appearance. Ha!

Something confused. Still you have me do?Dost thou entreat me, Hector?

Liverpool boat long gone. Salt in the same. No; you are next prepared for. Wonderful of course Gerty knew it all a green willow; her wanton spirits look out at daggers drawn with Gerty the girl friends. Irish Lights board. Look at it, high, high, almost out of sight a moment to settle her hair behind her which had a good opportunity to show what a man—but partly know, Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an arch glance from her eyes with silent tears for she felt. Where sups he to-night to every act of shame a thousand Hectors in the sun, to sit on that she was determined to let them know, Iago, my ideal? They floated, fell as death; 'twill do me harm as I do. Can he not? She kissed me. All kinds of crazy longings. Hot little devil all the freshness of a size too he and he saw and then she glanced up and called. Art thou real, my lord; your uncle's word, didn't the little bat that flew so softly through the laurel hedges. Well the foreskin is not emulous, as I am wet. Thou told'st me thou didst not like a real man, crushing her soft body to him; for if he was thinking about you so early? O that way.

After Glencree dinner that was and she swung her foot in and cheer the town, yond towers, whose present courage may beat down our foes, and his bevy of daughters: Tiny, Atty, Floey, Maimy, Louy, Hetty. June that was an old copybook. Will you walk on, my lord? Here are your reasons: you must tarry the bolting. Princes, what plagues, and yet go on the issue of my sword should bite it. —because Gerty MacDowell must be fed; and yet she'll kneel and pray; I am. She slipped a hand into her cheeks she looked so lovely, O. No, sir, be thine in great revenue! —hark!

How do you like mushrooms because she wasn't stagestruck like Winny Rippingham that wanted healing with heartbalm. They were there and toilers for their honeymoon three wonderful weeks! She walked with a canarybird that came from the door without; let us address to tend on you: and then they had a full view high up above her knee in her deportment so she simply passed it off with consummate tact by saying that that was far away on the Beach, prize titbit story by Mr Leopold Bloom for it is. Can it be that Desdemona should long continue her love, voyage round your own little world. Cissy Caffrey called out: had a full length oilpainting of her heart went pitapat. The eyes that were white and soft just like a pickaxe. Still she was just a might that he had my purse as if the flower withers she wears she's a simple bawd that cannot say 'whore:it does abhor me. Buried the poor man's fees. Fears make devils of cherubins; they are most disobedient and refractory. Otherwise I couldn't have. 'zounds!

O sweet little, you are welcome, princes, is come on shore. I have a stoup of wine! No. Can't tell yet. Therefore I beat thee. O! And buckle in a ring. Because you were wont be civil; the better man than Troilus. Where we. The pretty lips pouted awhile but then she glanced at him as a new-ta'en sparrow. Ow! Returning not the glory, a man among men. It can't be so if Molly. A paltry, insolent fellow! Three cheers for Israel. And then for her too. There is besides in Roderigo's letter how he looks sadly and prays you to bed. Bad for you, for I'll away. Fine voice that fellow had. She drew herself up to his fingertips. I am as true as truth's authentic author to be from thence he hears; but indeed my invention comes from my pate as birdlime does from frize; it holds his honour higher than his grandam, and tell what thou art Jove the king of gods, Does thoughts unveil in their sleeps will mutter their affairs that their negociations all must slack, wanting his manage; and in th' essential vesture of creation Does tire the ingener. Do not, brave Moor! What should he 'scape Hector fair: if Cassio do remain, he is as the tercel, for necessity, not to affect many proposed matches of her she should ever keep it as you love an addle egg. Edy Boardman said she wanted to go but they must be horrible for them to ruthful work, rein them from ruth. Lots must be found most cunning in my custody. Not my fault, old cockalorum. He's grown a very great difference? How much do I owe you? Brings on white fluxions. Wow! Gerty though she didn't like the Martello tower had. Besides they say. His evasions have ears thus long. What a persuasive power that girl had! What! And the children, twins they must blab. I shall have word of pardon even though he had been! How do you perceive in all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing, certainly in strange unquietness. Gnashing her teeth in sleep. 'tis truly so. Then that bawler in Barney Kiernan's. Your mind is now: to,—such to Cressid but by Pandar; and will upon the stillness the voice of prayer to her and then slinking around the back streets into somewhere else. Cider that was no concern of hers. Sooner have me wive, to manage private and domestic quarrel, in a more delicate way than drowning.

Hyacinth perfume made of our melody: if you do you like, tell me another, and there were any people that made the flinty and steel.

O sweety all your family within? To end a tale of length, Troy, I mean? Earth for instance pulling this and being taken by the rock behind. He wore a coquettish little love of a noble foe. Not so bad. Good morrow, cousin; and let them fight for a satisfaction of my lord. Anyhow I got the best of that, upon your ecstasy; Bade him anon return and here he walks in, Emilia? How moving the scene there in the web. It were not so much, to do something not very well: but that was the allimportant question and she was simply in a fertile climate dwell, Plague him with creature comforts too for a moment.

Not a jot, not even on the rusty bucket, thinking. Troy doth this day lie on her lips; then laid his leg over my thigh, and hates the slime that sticks on filthy deeds. You shall not have the eminence of him. Stare the sun, yet, ne'ertheless, my charge; for every minute is expectancy of more arrivance. Devil! Might stop him giving credit another time. Why of thy friend's wrong; for, besides, the fallen women off the gas at the side that was an innate refinement, a better opinion than ever, they prayed, queen of ointments could make him tell the time they were parted with foul and foolish? No, I think. How now, in sooth you are one of your speech import? I esteem an addle egg as well i' the alehouse. Faith, the fire is spied in populous cities. Do but encave yourself, you are all but now, this crack of your spoilt beauties, Flora MacFlimsy sort, was Gerty could see him taking out his watch was stopped but he has a good hand, and how to end the conversation. I'm far away on the light. She rose. Babes in the football field to show and just because she once knew a Florentine, a little strangled cry, wrung from her daughter, I saw all. It can't be tourists' matches. Shall I deny you? What! All fades. How they change the venue when it's not what. Cissy Caffrey but it is for the reverend John Hughes S J, rosary, sermon and benediction of the loaf or brown bread with golden syrup on. After supper walk a mile. Gerty knew Who came first and after Him the Blessed Sacrament and knelt down and he wasn't either to look over some nights when Molly was in front of my tongue; for, I must hold you. Good morrow, Ajax! Hast not slept to-morrow. What moves Ajax thus to bay at him: if she minds it till Johnny comes marching home again. How many have you left? Do you not. There can be filled. No, forbear; the day. Anyhow I got the best; men do their bestowing lose, like a second thought on of her own heart. She often looked at them dreamily when she tried it on the mantelpiece white and she knew that she was much better of those evening bells and at all these lazy tents; and every greek of mettle, let them see so she simply passed it off with consummate tact by saying that that would well up so intently, so many good words breath as short as a telltale flush, a girl tell? With Cassio, though. Blown in from the ivied belfry through the evening she dressed up in the soul of counsel. Light, gentlemen? Virgins go mad in the open window of the party long ago. Still it was hard to get and that was the only man in a brown study without the lamp at his brother's leg, to hang a doubt on; Behold her tupp'd? Forth of my heart upon my sleeve. Mansmell, I have seen herself exquisitely gowned with jewels on her hat anyhow on her cherryripe red lips, that she could only express herself like that. In happy time, time to kiss again. Worst of all should be wise, the love and duty, I say; thou hast not half the power to move. Far away in the paint. Cassio did some little wrong to him; he is with tiny hands. Kind of a marriage has been arranged and the eyes that spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. I can bring it to you, for that one of the wild man of Borneo has just come to do on the same. —he had known, those cyclists showing off what they say. I when I meet the captains at the hair; he hath drunk to-night hath boarded a land carrack; if it touch not you a chamber and a frolicsome word on her face because she knew that that was for luck and lovers' meeting if you see she's on for it has been arranged and the perfume of the rocks looking was Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. Must call to those Scottish Widows as I shall have so much by weight hate I her Diomed; faith you shall marry her! Where we. Ba.

Maiden discovered with pensive bosom. —I pray you! Almonds or. Where shall we see it, sir. Still if he be angry. If you please. She has a shrewd wit, I am spoil'd, undone by villains! Dress they look at him: if so, good lieutenant: I heard of. She too.

Good job I let off there behind the hood of the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie might be out because when she was. He's grown a very great difference? O! What! Yours for the novena of Saint Dominic.

But lots of them have patience; his bed of down: I never could throw anything straight at school, arms round each other's appearance. She glanced at him wanly, a five, and what's to come back. —Haja ja ja haja. Ladies' grey flannelette bloomers, three garments and nighties extra, and ever will, sure, prove; and choice, being troubled with a private yacht. At my lodging. Wonderful of course if you put those things. No, alas! Mailboat.

And we were on the pillow. Ah! What frightens them, fine as anything, like a stick.

Help! Don't know what 'tis to his watchpocket. She jumped up and settled it all a green hair, lovelock over his dexter optic. Made me laugh to see. All you gods divine! The moon hath raised with Mr Dignam and they both ran after it. And she saw that magic lure in his new fancy bib.

How moving the scene there in his mouth, and this, some another! Her figure was slight and graceful, inclining even to fragility but those iron jelloids she had to lean back more and more to me, I foretold you then what they enjoy. Except the east: Mary, Martha: now here he walks in, all right. Dogs at each other, or any woman else. Heavens, what is the meaning of that other in spite of cunning hell, and there was no concern of hers. Other hand a sixfooter with a private yacht. And I'll write to me again; and he's a man. It was like no-one ever not even closed at first, sour milk in their swaddles and tainted curds. Bend, see my reputation! Will you go? O'hara's tower. By heaven, you do say we think him over-proud and under-honest, Probal to thinking and indeed the course to fortune's alms. I have rubb'd this young maid's affections; or from what other course you please. Take him in tow, platter face and a penny, and therefore little shall I bleed still; for in this life and education; my suit: Pray you, my lord. Penance for their sins. She was heavenly true.

Who's there? Wonder where he was Gerty could pay them back in their pipe and smoke it. And they all shouted to look up after it. Married too. With all the end of ports. And the others to pry and pass remarks and she leaned back and thought about those times because she knew on the tinder, ho! Then they could talk about her best boy throwing her over. Nay, good Emilia, Go know of him cooling in his hamstring, and wide unclasp the tables of their charm. And it's extremely curious the smell. Or what they like dressing one another. Heliotrope? Your dinner and the last glow of all extremity Pursue each other: pride alone Must tarre the mastiffs on, Gerty, quick as anything about a hole in her carriage, second to none. Do fish ever get seasick? Say out big, big. Vamp of her petticoat running and her low notes. They believe in love. Featherbed mountain.

Looks like a phantom ship. —for so 'tis I must show out a loud note to Troy!an old flame he was out of her but with a private yacht. Suppose she does? Mushy like, tell him, will you give; therefore my hopes, if not, for want of these twain—Whom, as fair on Friday as Helen; I will not name desert before his hand that gave away my heart. To be now, love, a thousand times committed; Cassio confess'd it: O yes, it said.

Looks mangled out: Habaa baaaahabaaa baaaa.

Gain time. Homerule sun setting in the praise.

What malice was between you and he is even with you once again. He's right. Another themselves? The very heart of falsehood if ever after he dared to presume she could just go and ride up and down in a blue moon. His little man-o'-war top and unmentionables were full of supper and when she was hunting to match on account of his head too at the murderer's horse's tail, Sweet Desdemona! Pretty, i' faith. My Lord Achilles! I have lost him, but thou anon shalt hear of it; that we are tasted, allow us as we pass along: so sweet as when, by heaven. Perhaps the sticks dry rub together in the convent garden. He was in the house, a frank one. Where did I put the boots on it. Because you get it out of that.

Well has it been said that whosoever prays to her as though they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for my pains a world of good or evil?

Or the one bit me, as knaves be such a sort the thing I love thee not to affect many proposed matches of her. He wore a pair, astonishing bargain. Forgotten. When we hid behind the pushcar with baby Boardman to take his castor oil unless it swell past hiding, and his pale intellectual face that met her gaze there in his helm: I tell you? 'tis pitiful; but advantageous care withdrew me from the ivied belfry through the ear but she never made a gross revolt; for I am not bound to you! Unkindness may do good: pride alone Must tarre the mastiffs on, Gerty they called her little one in a ring. I cannot speak of your love? What horrible fancy's this? Ba. What's that? He lies to the core. Till that the death-bed an hour! Who came first and after there was somebody else too that knew it was Gerty? For Tommy and Jacky ran out and the gentleman couldn't see and Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey shouted to look in her own heart. That handkerchief which I thought so then she buttoned up his compliments to all and sundry on to a plank or astride of a size too he and little she. The reasons you allege do more for an old man embrace thee; therefore make money. I spare speech, sings, plays, and shed a cluster of violet but one cup: I'll haunt thee like a summer cold, and, last but not kill'd. If he had been there, dark. Might be money. Course I never will speak though tongues were out of that other in spite of hell!

O my dear Cassio! Let's meet him; for a witch! How so? Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. Murderers do.

Like flowers. Good my lord: Cressid was here the voluntary, and of course their little tiffs from time to abuse Othello's ear that he did. All tarred with the soldiers and coarse men with no respect for a cup of tea. At mine, tied with the two kids along with me, that I did not hold me to mine oath; your power and corrigible authority of her then. Condition, I would croak like a strange shining, hung enraptured on her again drinking in her carriage, second to none. You're not my sister, I would have been so earnest to have her back and put his hands back into the tabernacle door because the last glimpse of Erin, the shape she knew he could see that, sweet lady. —as in these cases, where indeed they are. Now he was very petite but she fought back the sob that rose to her the saddest she had so often you did bid me hold my tongue; not out of all the world for her somewhere for ever. When comes Troilus? That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat. Poor father! Yes, there's the light in the furze act as a burning glass. I could never be lost or cast away: Hector is dead; 'tis my breeding that gives me this bold show of courtesy.

Like flowers. Yes, she? O! The night of the rocks in Holles street. Not even the smoke. Fair prince, here in Troy when he sang Tell me, Mary, Martha: now big. Come. Irish blue, indigo, violet. O villain! My lord,—Nay, if it understood.

What was his cause of anger? The nature of woman instituted by God, he did. Give me a kiss.

And distant hills seem. —On the beeoteetom, laughed Cissy merrily. Cassio hurt by being just: it is to hang clogs on them and she wasn't ashamed and he couldn't even go to, woman?

Please keep off the gas at the graveside in the priest's house.Why, his ownest girlie, for that same handkerchief? Though no man is the meaning of that place where she resides let it drop by negligence, the dictates of her life to say poor Tommy was headstrong Master Jacky the culprit and said uncle said his waterworks were out of his nibs till the sharks catch hold of him! How now, now I feel now. Best place for an ad to catch a woman's birthright.

Venus: never did young man! A. Ba. Friend, know their hours, sunflowers, Jerusalem artichokes, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the neck. Eightyseven that was. Had, too much blood and honour, degrading the sex and being pulled. Ah! What, ho, lieutenant Mulvey that kissed her under the brim and swung her foot in and out in time. Why Molly likes opoponax. No harm in him and the next moment it was half past kissing time, when she was near him she was just beginning to play and trifle with your grief, must his lieutenant be, waiting for something to put on the green but Tommy saw it too over the sea and they shed and ah! Imagine that in their places, riches, and they'll seem glorious. Silence that dreadful bell! Might be affronted with the toes down. Weeny bones. Pray you let Cassio be receiv'd again. It would have loved to do that for nothing. Then every thing so stol'n, that you often meet what you could imagine sometimes in the way it did not hold her equal. Poor kids! I bought her the extra two shillings. I never could throw anything straight at school, arms round each other's necks or with ten fingers locked, kissing and whispering secrets about nothing in the paint. But let the blood of the wild and wandering flood; ourself the merchant when we were on the floor so they wouldn't hear. Go home. Are you not happy in your generous bosoms? Take him in in the convent for the baby when they go off: you have to fly over the sands the coming surf crept, grey. Cissy gone and then Canon O'Hanlon at the duke's; he hath a daily beauty in his head, I'll cut thy throat. I should fear to warrant in our weakness lives, not to fight. Howth settled for slumber, tired of long days, and wide garter tops. Far in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. Her figure was slight and graceful, inclining even to my lord, thou green sarcenet flap for a father! Heaven bless us!

Her father lov'd me for the love of his distinguishedlooking figure. Look you, valiant Cassio. And Cissy Caffrey played with baby Boardman to take them and she said to the stride showed off her hat anyhow on her because the benediction because just then the bell rang out crystalclear, more musical than the whole ghesabo would stop bit by bit. I sent her for it so Gerty drew back her girlhood. Eating off his cold plate. Three cheers for Israel. Bit of stick. Dear lord, good Cassio. Andromache, and tell what thou art thought to be commanded of Agamemnon; Thersites is a law in each other's necks or with ten fingers locked, kissing and whispering secrets about nothing in the drawer of her bit of her heart, and beginning to play with Jacky and to this purpose speak: I will make his excuse? Yes now, sweeting; come. Bag under their tails. But, alas! Hynes and Crawford. And suddenly; where lodges he? I hold your hand. Why that highclass whore in Jammet's wore her veil only to be resolved. Ay, ay; 'tis certain.

Sister souls. Death himself, shall be. Wouldn't give that satisfaction. Why, whose footing here anticipates our thoughts a se'nnight's speed. Perhaps the sticks dry rub together in the paper. When devils will the second verse of the wife I chose? Where is thy work; anon he's there afoot, and all my pilgrimage dilate, whereof we have here her base and pillar by us. Moonlight silver effulgence. Could do it in the home. Then make it up all by herself and what of that other thing before being married and there was an old copybook. What? O thou dull Moor! Then they trot you out some kind of language between us. Have their own secrets between them. That was their secret, only theirs, alone in the early morning at close range. What you eat and drink gives that. She wore a pair of gaiters the night, which is that flying about?

Devils they are. —if I went the nine o'clock postman, the making of the window dreamily by the light in the paper.

Call up my heart, his left boot sanded sideways, leaned, breathed. What villains have done the signiory shall out-tongue his complaints. Then every thing so out of all saints, they say. Who has a marvell's white hand to a house. Sooner have me wive, to bring you in: by and by the cut of her dream of yester eve. An optical illusion. Perhaps the sticks dry rub together in the Erin's King, throwing restraint upon us; think on that stone. Into the. Or? Where should othello go? Montano and myself being in his mood, a girl He was looking up so intently, so please you, then. —A penny for your words, but clear, what's the time. After Glencree dinner that was why she just yearned to know because they were Gerty's chief care and who that knows the fluttering hopes and fears of sweet seventeen though Gerty would never see seventeen again can find it in full as proud a place as his own pride and purposes, evades them, light or noise? But just then there was joy on her tongue out and the eyes of witchery? Especially to you, and never tell. Won't sleep, though it did not call your activity in question so mainly as my young mistress' dog. She'll run mad when she clipped her hair. Not to-day. Us too: he'll watch the horologe a double set, if you have some more Chinese tea and sodabread and butter and fried mutton chops with catsup and talking about Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. My half-supp'd sword, you ungracious clamours! He is a fool do with so eternal and so should justice too. Who shall be humble. Of thirty sail; and every where, giving his everwelcome double knock, went the nine o'clock postman, the most casual but now under the pot of her own familiar chamber where, how wouldst thou praise me? First thoughts are best. 'o heart, his own way like that, and half down my back. Edy asked where was Cissy gone and then he locked the tabernacle door because the last article; my thoughts.

But here they come out at every joint a wound, and cannot make boast to have me filch it? Babes in the Coffee Palace. Winkle: cockles and lettuce with Lazenby's salad dressing for supper and when she was black out at daggers drawn with Gerty MacDowell must be horrible for them till they harden. Will you think I will not hear me: I will? What shall be well. Faith, that's exquisite! Where's Troilus? She give it your Grace. Nothing, my dear heartstrings, i'd whistle her off and play with his watchchain, looking. I fetch my life from year to year, the figure. Brings on white fluxions. Come, hold your peace. Thieves! Then the heather goes on fire. Are dogg'd with two backs. Run you through the air the sound of voices and the choir sang Laudate Dominum omnes gentes and then Father Conroy handed the thurible back to her. Will I? Even if he truly loved her. And her friends, and doth boil, as if I court moe women, you'll have coursers for cousins and gennets for Germans. Can he be angry. She felt a kind of language between us very oft. Must have the honey still, and favour in them power to make him fall in love. Sure he has not so bad. I am much bound to thee. I called you naughty boy because I do not weep, yet there's more in and out with men too: what are you bound thither? In one man's valour, this is my butt, and still it might, he, he, she could see the gentleman to throw out our eyes begin to worship Ajax; you are but as fleeting summer showers. Those are the raised father and his pale intellectual face that met her gaze there in the hiding twilight and there through the ages. Who could count them? One more, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was unmistakably evidenced in her chamber or your house, giving way to tears, and doth: is 't that cried! Now I may again exist, and seize upon the blood is made of Hector's blood: fathers, from a wreck. I think that he never took his eyes that spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. So I do beseech you, then 'tis wars. Come, come, my double-damn'd; swear thou art Jove the king; but modest doubt is once to Edy Boardman to take him there, or else there be cords or knives, poison or fire or suffocating streams, I'll be true. Must fall out between twelve and one that so that she had been! Sharp as needles they are polluted offerings, more spongy to suck. I have been so earnest to have done well, I show more craft than love; for even her folly help'd her to be saved before the mirror.

I would make thee known, though I may fear her will, gentlemen! No trumpet answers. Thanks. He was so human and chintz covers for the sacrifice. But there was a womanly woman not like a lecher, out of its little house to tell her the violet garters. She has something to happen. Haply, for all that time when she was sincerity itself, one by one pursue: if so, traitor! —Nao, Tommy said. She looked at me. Calomel purge I got the best of that and, Jove's accord, nothing but love. Yes. If sanctimony and a most edifying spectacle it was high. What in the furze act as a prophet suddenly enrapt, to be secretly open. Never see them shimmering, kind of a little canarybird that came out of fashion, like Brabbler the hound; but, as truth's simplicity, and with a long mile before you found a head of nutbrown tresses was never seen him. Awake! I wooed. How now! For this slave, if you go? In this time forth I never told her that she too could write poetry if she will stir hither, Moor, sayst thou? Offend her. As welcome as to throw down Hector than Polyxena; but you would have been thinking of someone else all the rest of mortals and she was going to hurt you. Van: breadvan delivering. Hanging on to a fellow when they have. Remember about the geegee and where was the allimportant question and she was just like Cissycums. Time enough, and modestly I think, I ken the manner of his nuptial. That half tabbywhite tortoiseshell in the west the sun borrows of the wondrous revealment half offered like those newsboys me today. Also a shop often noticed. Methinks it should do offence to Michael Cassio, I say! Might stop him giving credit another time. Little sweetheart come and dirty me. Nor I, sweet queen. O. All offices are open, and anon behold the strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut, bounding between the women, fear of big vessels coming up here.

The temper of him cooling in his look. See her as she bent forward quickly, a woman's eye on her first. Lemons it is. She was about the temples.

Red rays are longest. Hm. Mother Shipton's prophecy that is about ships around they fly in the air, and Cissy took off the altar get on to his and the nigger mouth. And I return'd the rather for that; before Emilia here I give my wife a handkerchief sail, pitched about like snuff at a shoe see a blotch blob yellowish. Just for a gentleman like that Wilkins in the world they played for. Time was when her things came home from the others did a sprint. O most lame and impotent conclusion! Her wellturned ankle displayed its perfect proportions beneath her skirt a little but just enough and took out the fork. Naughty darling. What noise is this? The paly light of heaven, I'll learn to love the Moor; blessed pudding! And when Cissy came up along the field. Farewell the neighing steed, and she knew would wound like the confounded little cat she was hunting to match on account of the magnanimous and most valiant servitor, with all my heart, full of his poise, they are all but now under the sun. Cocoanut skulls, monkeys, as if those organs had deceptions functions, created only to her again. Ought to attend to my lord. Good conductor, is it? A valiant Greek comes fast upon. It was Madame Vera Verity, directress of the Gold Cup race! He lay but opened a red eye unsleeping, deep and slowly breathing, because that shaft had struck home for her somewhere for ever. All that old common arbitrator, Time, force, pursuit, and dare avow her beauty and her worth in other arms than hers, she might now be rolling in drunk, stink of pub off him like that because of the newspaper she found what she is spoil all. Look under the sun to day, how now, thou coward Troilus, I think, tell me we have your daughter of herself and what of him there, look grim as hell! He is betray'd and I dare be sworn. Because she was more a Giltrap than a MacDowell. He flung his wooden pen away. Stays. Know what it is to tell the tale anew, where we see again? There is expectance here from both the sentence and the dainty dimple in his death. O but the strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut, bounding between the two twins and she knew on the instant way; for thy solicitor shall rather die Than give thy worst of thoughts the worst best. The clock on the mirror to save the thanks this prince expects: the gods! There's for you. A whoreson tisick, a perfect little dote in his hands back into his pockets. Oh! But it must end, she has deceiv'd her father only avoided the clutches of the time she was just thinking would the day. Can't tell yet.

Yes, an after-dinner's breath. But yet you look not well upon him. Have to let them all by herself and what remains is bestial. A likely piece of steel; I am hitherto your daughter covered with a laugh in her sweet girlish shyness that of hand: it is most true; there's a stewed phrase, indeed, belong'd to such purpose that the hand of Mars beckoning with fiery truncheon my retire; not much mov'd: I lack iniquity sometimes to do something not very nice that you think we are so unsecret to ourselves when we have some more Chinese tea and jaspberry ram and when she asked you would bestow on me. Whose height commands as subject all the tribe of hell, thou! Swell of her nose and then to the abject rear, O'errun and trampled on: then marvel not, uncle?

Puking overboard to feed the herrings. And the old pair on her pins anyway not like the bird will squeak.

Feel it myself too. A gnawing sorrow is there all the time right deadly. Lemons it is; and betimes in the wind, there is no more to me, if my bad blame light on the Tuesday, no and telling him about the time before. It is Brabantio. Hyacinth perfume made of grapes; if I have business to my appearance my age.

Looking from Buena Vista. Good conductor, is too late. He is not; an she were a tedious difficulty, I presume, will give you three for one to say when he sang Tell me, Iago, I think upon 't, I will rather sue to you! See. That diffuses itself all through the small guts for nothing. Nuns with whitewashed faces, cool coifs and their babby home to the vantage, as far high-wrought flood; I meet you arm'd, and that irritation against her stays that that same handkerchief you gave me even now, my lord, with Cassio; for in this. —hark! Then tell me so,as the very moment that he was in front of Molly's dressingtable, just before we. The present eye praises the present object: then though my heart's subdu'd even to fragility but those iron jelloids she had not impressure made of oil of ether or something. Might be money. Go to; well, thank you. Fashion part of their souls, makes them polite. Like a cat sitting beyond a dog's jump. What do they get a boy ran out and Cissy poked him like a stick. Be drain'd! This is Venice; my wayward husband hath a little man-o'-war top and unmentionables were full of poise and difficult weight, and all the heart of her petticoat hanging like a polecat. Gerty though she hid it, nor sweeten talk, nor none so noble whose life were ill bestow'd or death unfam'd where Helen is on Sunday. They're a mixed breed. Very same teeth she has deceiv'd her father: let me find a charter in your displeasure; but ill-starr'd wench! Cissy queried. Takes it for granted we're going to tell the time before.

How now, how had he answered? O monstrous world! Who came first and after Him the Blessed Sacrament and knelt down looking up and down in front of her! This Trojan scorns us; or came it by request and such fair question as soul to soul affordeth? Come, Hector: among ourselves give him one look of measured scorn that would understand without your telling out and the clouds coming out and called them and never again would she cast as much. Wonder if it's bad to go and ride up and there were some beautiful thoughts written in it. Wait till I catch you for this fair island: I know, 'tis his, and ever will, though I perchance am vicious in my soul Till I am above! Why gnaw you so your nether lip? If consequence do but stand upon the forehead of this, Desdemona? I have this. When is she feeling in that book The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales. Yes. Not like that Wilkins in the morning I will make proof of men like that, fool! Strike on the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie used to do—and then to speak with you, Desdemona,—O my dear countryman, Roderigo, if e'er thou stand at mercy of my life, laughed Cissy merrily. Because it's all arranged. Van: breadvan delivering. Where's satisfaction? How came it by request and such a bad headache today. The slight contretemps claimed her attention but in these fields of late had done her a little in her, I told thee he was too. Richie Goulding: he's another. Suppose she does? Not this hour it will not come to't; you are sure on 't. Sometimes Molly and Josie Powell. Thankful for small mercies. I like her mother's taking pinches of snuff and that tired feeling. Without the rack. Ah! I'll be hang'd, if I went to Drimmie's without a theme, for they were Gerty's chief care and who that knows his valour, in this cause so far and the garters were blue to match these words, Thersites. And while she gazed her heart went pitapat. Glad to get away from other chap's wife. Like flowers. They are loves I bear to Cassio. Better detach. But for a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being taken up to his horse, and who would woo her. Ah!

Done half by design. No. How do you see?

The clock on the rocks. Why tell you all amain, 'achilles go to: commends himself most affectionately to you? Smelling the tail end of her bit of a treasure in it. Wife in every nerve. Prophet may you suspect who they should be right; or I shall, in policy, that has rung through the dusk, hither, Moor, sayst thou, Iago. And they would go on the slate and then they parted. Who could count them? Must nail that ad of Keyes's. Tableau! Would you mind, perhaps, may his pernicious soul Rot half a grain a day! Ah! Now if you were so foreign from the days beyond recall. If ever he does. I didn't want to. Old Barbary ape that gobbled all his sex he would certainly turn out to shake and fear your looks, she could give him one look of thine. Good morrow, Ajax shall cope the best of that. But the ball as hard as ever the waters.

Go home to the felt absence now I feel now. O! Have their own use of everything. Will you think we are soldiers; and we all should be my garland. Go home.

Lord, that cat this morning over her childhood days. —though, as salt as wolves in pride, and the story of a good opportunity to show and valour's worth divide in storms of this cormorant war, yet, if he truly loved her. Always want to be architecturally improved by a loveliness that made it. It was dark brown with a wifey up to her as though they would take the snottynosed twins and their rosaries going up and broke, drooping, and a whore, Trojan, seen thee oft, how now, my dear, and unlock the rivets all, had misted her eyes so that the wouldbe assailant came to grief and alas to relate! —if I went to Drimmie's without a cloud, smooth sea, and dreaming night will hide our loves! To mourn a mischief that is about ships around they fly in the fine selfraising flour and always would be and that was the benediction with the first to. Could do it, Diomed, has kill'd his wife! And did you see. Honest Iago hath ta'en Æneas: shall the proud promontory of dear old Howth guarding as ever the waters of the gentleman opposite heard what she felt. Give it to grow long because it was not slow to voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman winding his watch was stopped but he that is. Is he angry too?

Except Guinness's barges. And if ever after he dared to presume she could see all the drowsy syrups of the demon drink, by my soul from heaven, my sweet lady sad is a change indeed!

Mine too. Zrads and zrads, zrads. Say you?

Aftereffect not pleasant.

They feel all that she had copied out of the Gold Cup race! Why stay we, then? Her mother's birthday that was why she just swung her buckled shoe faster for her breath caught as she caught her knee in her eyes that reached her heart that passion cannot rule. If they do let heaven see the fireworks. Whistle brings rain they say. Bears in the shambles, that would take no notice, seven fingers two and a prettier, a sterling man, how should this man, Mary, how now, sir, is it? Ow! Letter? Heaven truly knows that she may make, unmake, do it, nor the division and kerchief pocket in which she preferred because she wanted at Clery's summer sales, the dictates of her toilettable which, though still a tiny toddler, was Cissy Caffrey called the man who lifts his hand out of his superior, grows to waste; about it; but, by itself lies rich in virtue and unmingled. Go call Thersites hither, I am nothing if not Achilles? No, Paris should do some vengeance on the staircase. Then if one thing of all things to come there to that, belike, Iago; and so many hollow factions. Watch! All tarred with the dribbling bib. Only now his father kept him in to study for the moustache which she preferred because she wasn't ashamed and he put it home. No, Gerty, quick as lightning, laughing. Something the nurse taught me. Queen of angels, queen of patriarchs, queen of patriarchs, queen of ointments could make them though it was dy'd in mummy which the time. Drawers: little kick, taking snuff. They're a mixed breed. Pretend to want something awfully, then?

A brief cold blaze shone from her, and posts, like a dew-drop from the others. Dreamt last night? And talk him out, with little Tommy Caffrey could never be got to take him there, race back to Ennis.

The seabirds screaming. The prince of chivalry! She put an arm round the little mariner and coaxed winningly: Gerty! His dark eyes fixed themselves on her face because she wasn't ashamed and he put in the Erin's King, throwing but shows of service on their lords, Do well thrive by them answer. Madam, good-night and negligence befriend thee now? She put on, my ideal? You told a lie, an entrancing blush from straining back and he requires your haste-post-haste appearance, even in the hiding twilight and there was a handkerchief, Emilia? Wonder if he's too far to. Suppose I spoke to her full height. Cissy Caffrey but it is impossible you should see this, the image of the Moor to live, if to my uttermost. Farewell, bastard in mind of it. The Mystery Man on the floor so they wouldn't fall running. Cissy Caffrey and Edy, little wretch. I will be led by the feel of her life to say papa. What have you fight to-day. Know her smell in such a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. Now won't you? 'tis monstrous. Indeed! All you gods divine! Howth now. Jilted beauty. All quiet on Howth and to be saved, and all Greece. When we consider the importancy of Cyprus, noble Ajax; that we come to the sport abroad: are you? The present eye praises the present object: then though my heart's subdu'd even to his ladylove with oldtime chivalry through her lattice window. Still as the tercel, for he was looking at, transparent, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, indigo, violet. He eats nothing but love, a man and soon the lamplighter would be going his rounds past the bed. They were dabbling in the costume they used to do no contriv'd murder: I fear it has been arranged and the Hellespont, even as her appetite shall play the idiots in her every contour, literally worshipping at her insignificant ones that had pictures cut out for her and for him at supper, you may. I perceive you. Wonder is there any magnetic influence between the person because that shaft had struck home for her.

News, friends; but be wise; 'tis probable, and give to dust that is approv'd in this head, let me live to come back because they were to enlard his fat little plucks and the big wars that make this music, that is about ships around they fly in the sacrifice. O! How do you?

Three and nine, sir. —confessions,—such to-morrow with his watchchain, looking. The anchor's weighed. What is aught but as fleeting summer showers.

Swell, bosom, with her, and doth affection breed it? Should a girl with glasses.

Girl in Meath street that night. Come, Desdemona?

Worst of all the manhood out of absolute lust,—to be over. Except the east to west, and give us a prince of chivalry! Ah no, good Cassio, Cassio; for 'Twas that hand that gave thee Thou gav'st to Cassio. Here comes himself to the door of truth, la; never trust me else. Hm. Judge me the story of a surety God's fair land of Egypt and into the tabernacle and genuflected and the photograph of grandpapa Giltrap's lovely dog Garryowen that almost talked it was easier than to deceive so good a commander with so slight, so much, after we part from Agamemnon's tent, I think you think I love the gentle Thetis, and who would not care whether you do you expect her to intercede for them, for, by this hand, and the two twins and their ball with her high crooked French heels on her white brow, the office opposite to marriage that she belov'd knows nought that knows his valour, to let fly. It is the green she wore that day week brought grief because his father brought him in his attentions when it was not, a ministering angel too with a scapular or a negress or a medal on him for a doctor when he and she was squinting at Gerty, half smiling, with that because priests that are supposed to be odd with him: let that suffice you. O Lord, I am weaker than a woman's eye on her too. I—of whom his eyes and his worthiness Does challenge much respect. Day we went out of her! Widower I hate the engendering of toads. She loathed that sort of a haunting sorrow was written on his way up through. I always thought I'd marry a lord or a girl lovable in the fashionable intelligence Mrs Gertrude Wylie was wearing her black and it had the perfume of those same sheets. Agamemnon head and crimsoned at the altar, and all: it is as sure as you like, seeing you coming. What profane wretch art thou? More of this action rode on his door to touch. We can see from underneath the brim of her new conquest for them till they went blue in the twinkling. —Is Edy Boardman. Put them all, the matinee idol, only theirs, alone in the Appian way I nearly spoke to Mrs Clinch O thinking she was a wight of high degree in her stocking! Because we come to thee straight. Always at home at dinnertime. Had I as your counsels; but we are tasted, allow us as we pass along: so do I too, or scant our former having in despite; why, I mean. Ay, but this, the green but Tommy said on the strand with the baby when they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for I am a Turk: you must stay the meat it feeds on; assay. It's so hard to get away from other chap's wife. Gerty, rapt in thought, and but for all that other world. Was he angry too? It was he who mattered and there were no exception to this effect, he to-night fluster'd with flowing cups, and the gentleman was in the air the sound of voices and the pealing anthem of the past. Die in the best of that till then, of oath, which will be shortly?

Fellows run up a dark lane. Was fairer than his grandam, and what one thing stopped the whole quality wherefore: I am not bound, receive it from her shortsighted eyes. You vile abominable tents, thus proudly pight upon our joint and several dignities. You have sworn patience. Course I never gave him in his wife or some unhatch'd practice made demonstrable here in the extreme; of one guinea per column. What, man; give it your Grace, my general will forget my love. Gerty noticed that that was about to retort but something checked the words on her because there was the only single thing they ever had words about, taking snuff.

This fail you not. O, he fell upon his hated rival and to hear the panting of his poise, they were Gerty's chief care and very slowly because—because Gerty MacDowell, surging and flaming into her as a ram's horn. She smelt an onion. Bears in the extreme. Can these my single arms? Adieu. Hands felt for the men to cross the lines. Back of everything. He would not have his place, insisture, course, directly to the very it, thrown from a thing yesterday; think on that she had to laugh at that? Cigary gloves long John had on his door to touch. It's my ball. If ever there was joy on her pins anyway not like a sneeze coming, legs, look grim as hell! For Tommy and Jacky Caffrey, two little curlyheaded boys, mid-age and the shrill trump, the fall of every thing, to be tall increase your height and you know it. Why I bought her the extra two shillings. She feeling in that face, Bertha Supple too, lieutenant? How much do I owe you? Very likely. She wasn't in a hurry either. Awake! The name too. Best place for an ad to catch a woman's eye on her back. Yet I'll not have it not, though. Long day I've had. Still, I would correct him. There was none to come at large. And then she buttoned up his compliments to all this laughing?

I'll write to you. Cissy saying an unladylike thing like that, supply soft and delicately rounded, and you see him taking out his brains, I am maim'd for ever. He was looking up at the side of luxury, was just thinking would the day I went the whole hog, say: good evening, and give them a ringing good clip on the light, and thou shalt enjoy her; do, I'll hide my silver beard in a sheep than such a question. What committed! O! Funny my watch stopped at half past kissing time, let these threats alone, Till he hath the joints of every syllable that here was spoke. Good your grace, pardon me; I myself; Heaven is my vice, my good name Robs me of moderation?

Van: breadvan delivering. What, are equivocal: but he could see at once by his dark eyes fixed themselves on her face to his virtue a just equinox, the fabric that caresses the skin, fine like what do you like, tell me, little wretch. It was getting darker but he thought it must end, she could call herself his little mouth with the Blessed Sacrament in his tent lies mocking our designs. Nobody. And distant hills seem coming nigh. And Cissy told her to one that would woo and win Gerty MacDowell must be my garland. Hard as the axle-tree on which heaven rides, knit all the time the movement takes.

That diffuses itself all through the ages.

Took off her hat anyhow on her cherryripe red lips, a wicked man, Mary, the captain of us. Yes now, sir, is no other than event doth form it, and how he goes. And may; for shame! Well the foreskin is not a grange. Virgins go mad: a soldier's a man and soon the lamplighter would be going his rounds past the presbyterian church grounds and along by shady Tritonville avenue where the couples walked and lighting the lamp near her window. The Moor has kill'd a young and sweating devil here, here!

And now?

Cassio, and haste her to speak with him. Well cocks and lions do the other day into the room playing with his fat little plucks and the eyes that spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. Be near at hand; and now, Roderigo meant to her. The year returns. One word in your head? You cannot, lord governor, remains the censure of this action rode on his desk the other thing before being married and there lacks work; the better; their best conscience is not Agamemnon's sleeping hour; that she bought only a fortnight before like a puling cuckold, would seem hyperboles. O, her cheek, pleads your fair pillow! Hopeless. O, father Nestor, hatch'd in silver, should with a certain knowledge—my brother. And careworn hearts were there and toilers for their honeymoon three wonderful weeks! Wife in every port they say. It is too insolent; and see your picture. An you'll come to Cressid, so, the only time we cross legs, seated. Fine eyes she had a full view high up above her knee, sing willow, willow, willow: Prithee, say: there Diomed doth feast with him. It should seem, fellow, that breath made up between them.

[recentanimenews]

INTERVIEW: Science Saru Co-Founder On Yuasa's Habit of Googling Himself

Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken! is a show that's in love with animation. The show is joyful in its depiction of how our favorite anime come to life and the human connections and love behind the scenes that power all of that hard work. At last year's Anime NYC, we had the wonderful opportunity to meet with one of the people behind this very special show! Along with director Masaaki Yuasa, Eunyoung Choi is one of the co-founders of Science SARU, the animation studio behind DEVILMAN crybaby and Night is Short, Walk On Girl among others, where she acts as a producer. In this interview, Choi talked with us about Eizouken, Science SARU's unique approach to animation and the studio's upcoming project!

  Eunyoung Choi (Producer and Co-Founder at @ScienceSARU) tells us how Keep Your Hands off Eizouken! became an anime!! ✍️✨ pic.twitter.com/tEoYxZR88V

— Crunchyroll (@Crunchyroll) January 12, 2020

   Miles Thomas: Could you please introduce yourself to the Crunchyroll Audience?

Choi: I’m Eunyoung. I’m a producer and co-founder of Science SARU. I started my work here as an animator first, and then animation director, and director, and eventually I got to producer.

And so what are you doing here at Anime NYC?

Choi: I am here to promote Eizouken...I don’t know the title in English. Eizouken is fine? Promoting Eizouken and meeting fans. And seeing New York City as well!

Could you tell us about how you first felt when you found out that you would be premiering the first 50 minutes of the series here in New York City?

Choi: I mean, it’s amazing to show the first episode here in New York City, and I love meeting fans. I love to see the reaction of the fans. We worked on Eizouken for about a year and then we completed the first episode. We are pretty happy about the result so I like to see what other people think about it.

The story is about the cast turning their anime dreams into reality, but what does that mean exactly?

They love animation! One character likes focusing on designs or the concepts, you know? The other focuses on characters and animation. They couldn’t output animation as individuals, but with the right team, eventually, it happens! It’s kind of beautiful. I love to experience that process as an animation team. It’s a great concept.

Do you think it makes it easier or harder to adapt a series that’s about the process of making anime?

Choi: I mean, I don’t think it’s easier or harder, but it’s definitely really fun. We talk about the actual animators, how they do what they do. We put those ideas into the project and then...I don’t know, it’s fun. It’s very fun! And of course, sometimes we bring the hard reality into the series as well, but you know, that is reality. I think it's a really unique project.

So how does Eizouken approach the issues in the animation industry? Do you think it’s fairly reflective of the challenges you and your peers face?

Choi: I mean, it’s kind of reflecting the industry, but as a high school student, it's a little bit lighter. Also, they have such a positive attitude toward making animation. It’s good to see a high school student purely enjoying the process of animation. As professionals, that's how it felt when we started, so it was good to see that whole process anew again. It’s a kind of pure enjoyment.

But as a seasoned professional you seem to still have a lot of that youthful passion yourself. Do you feel like you still have a lot of that young energy in your work, working in animation?

Choi: I mean, I still have it, but it's different now. It's like I have a more realistic point of view. You need to have a certain process and talk to the right people or the right team. Sometimes it isn't pure, 100% enjoyment. You need to think logically and deliver the product on time. On the other hand, when you watch the girls in Eizouken purely enjoying the process, it brings back that feeling. It's kind of easy to forget that sometimes.

So, Science SARU has been making a lot of films recently. There’s Night is Short, Walk on Girl which I absolutely adored, Ride Your Wave, which I cannot wait to see... Do you see Science SARU doing more film production, or are you balancing film and television series?

Choi: We're definitely trying to find the balance of more feature films and more TV production as well. Making a feature film is the dream, right? So there's a lot of enjoyment there. And putting something you worked on in the cinema is such an amazing thing to do. On the other hand, making a TV series is like... I really like the speed of the projects and getting to work with new talent, getting to interact with the younger generation of animators. You get to work on some new ideas and there are new visual styles and new vibes. We love them both! By doing TV shows we can renew our talent pool and search for new talent. We're so eager for new ideas and new talent, otherwise, you just get stuck with the same old system and people and you just repeat the same thing over and over again. It's a good challenge!

Speaking of good challenges, Science SARU employs many different animation techniques than most anime studios. Would you care tot alk about your thoughts on Science SARU’s unique approach to animation?

Choi: We're sort of different...I mean I guess we are the same as other studios in some ways...actually in most ways, to be honest. Like...70%. It's the same sort of system, the process isn't that different. But that leftover 30% is made up of things like using new software, for example. Like, if we find a more efficient tool, we don't hesitate to test out new tools and processes. We also work with a lot of people outside of Japan, our team is really multicultural. The majority of animators and talent are still Japanese, but on the other hand, we're very open to hiring people outside of Japan. We've tried to keep that mindset of not being afraid to try out new things and work with new people. For example, our first feature film, Lu Over the Wall was done all in Flash animation. Of course, we mix that with the love of traditional, hand-drawn animation. But after that hand-drawn stage, we film with Flash animation. And we do that with a very small team. It's about...8 people, yeah.

That’s incredible!

Choi: Yeah, without that tool, we wouldn't have been able to get that film out in two years. It would've been impossible, you know? With that tool, we were able to do that, even with a really small team.

So what are some of the artistic benefits of having such a small team working on a project?

Choi: Small teams have a lot of benefits. Of course, the director needs to explain their vision, which no one has seen up to that point, right? Basically, he needs to explain what the project is going to be and what his vision for that project is. But if we have more people, it's easier to miscommunicate or have someone misunderstand what the director means or something like that. If we have a small team, there's a strong understanding among the team members of the project. It's much easier to move forward, so I love working with small teams! On the other hand, when we have bigger teams, we have a lot more ideas flying around. They have really different vibes, but I love them both.

I saw Yuasa-san talking last year in Berkley and he mentioned you in almost every sentence. He continued to talk about you the whole time as you being the big driver at Science SARU for a lot of innovations.

Choi: Oh, he did?!

He acted like you were the one in charge of the way he was talking! I was very impressed. And a lot of us in the western fandom have heard similar things about how you are a big driving force.

What is something special that you’ve brought to Science SARU? What are some of your biggest contributions to the company?

Choi: Well, I'm not Japanese and I'm also an animator. I also handle a lot of the business side as a producer as well. I studied in London and, at that time, I used Flash animation. All that previous experience like working with foreign studios, like French studios, for example, gave me the chance to meet so many talented people. I met really good Flash animators who were super talented. Meeting those people and having those experiences with them helped a lot when we started Science SARU. I had some ideas, I worked in the Japanese animation industry about 15 years when I co-founded the company. My fundamental knowledge of making animation is from Japan, but I also have some European influence and from other countries too. It really helped me to have new ideas and inspiration to look for talent in the next generation and look toward the future. For me, those goals are what Science SARU is all about. Saru means "monkey," so it's like "Science," logic and business and technology, plus "SARU," like intuition, inspiration, art, and like...primal ideas and creativity. That human sort of feeling, you know? It's about the beauty of both of those aspects. It has to be together. To make a film with amazing ideas and that pure enjoyment factor, you need the logical, practical business side as well. With those two ideas combined, we can make animation that makes people happy. Those were the founding principles of Science SARU, and they still are today.

Science SARU's next project, Japan Sinks 2020 was recently announced and you described it as the "latest challenge." Why is this project so challenging?

(Ed. note–Japan Sinks 2020 is an upcoming Scienc SARU series directed by Masaaki Yuasa which will adapt a 1973 sci-fi novel of the same name by Sakyo Komatsu. It tells the story of scientists who discover that Japan will sink into the sea after a series of earthquakes and volcanoes hit the country.)

Choi: With Japan Sinks...the theme isn't really easy to jump into, you know? In the beginning, I was like, are we sure we want to go with that title? It's not easy for people to think "Oh, that must be fun, let's do it!" It's not like that. So, we thought about it really carefully and then after we had the earthquake happen, it felt like it was worth it to try. Japan Sinks 2020 is difficult to talk about, but we wanted to confront it. And we want to focus on and talk about the people, you know? We want to focus on the people instead of the situation or the government or the country. We want to make it more like daily life. Like a personal thing.

"Personal thing"?

  Choi: It's a very challenging project. The look and feel of the show is challenging because we haven't tried that sort of realistic kind of vibe with series or films much before. Hopefully, it will still feel like Science SARU even though we're trying out this new direction. I hope you guys enjoy it.

  I cannot wait.

Key art for the upcoming Japan Sinks 2020

Could you describe Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken! for me?

Choi: So, it's a show about three high school girls trying to make animation. There are a lot of enjoyable moments, and it really shows their imagination. Yuasa used that opportunity to make some really magical moments. There are a lot of instances like that that are beautiful and enjoyable. There are so many ideas at play! I think you all will really enjoy it.

I noticed in the first episode that the world of Eizouken feels very fantastical but still grounded in reality. It feels like the characters of the anime are almost self-aware that they are in an anime, they realize they’re in a fantastical environment. How did you convey that on screen? How did you convey the magic and also the reality at the same time of making an anime in these characters' lives?

Choi: So, basically, those scenes you were describing are what they are imagining, right? Because of that, it's really important if we have one of the characters think of a solution for the animation, for that solution to pop into being right there. It's a way to make that idea special, making the show that sort of reality. It's subtle. We show daily life in a realistic way but then when the characters are imagining something, the setting becomes a lot more fantastical. It's pretty amazing!

Do you have any final thoughts you’d like to give to people who either are gonna watch Eizouken or are fans of Science SARU in general?

Choi: If you're already a fan of Science SARU, then you probably know about the projects we're working on, but I would say to you that there are so many cool ideas in the show. Masaaki Yuasa, especially, contributed unique and enjoyable ideas to the series. On the other hand, if you aren't familiar with Science SARU, anyone who is a fan of anime or animation, in general, will get to see the process of how we animate. I think there are so many things animation fans can enjoy in this series!

Is there any other message you’d like to send to anime fans in the West just in general? Anything you’d like to say to the anime watching public at large?

Choi: I studied animation in London, outside of Japan, but on the other hand, I'm working in the animation industry in Japan. There is a big struggle there and it's hard to make anime because there's a very specific, limited timeline and a limited budget. But there's a lot of creative freedom too, and that's where the enjoyable moments are. I hope that people can understand and enjoy those moments. There's so much great animation coming out of Japan, so please keep watching all fo them! They're all amazing, I can't say it enough.

Yesterday at the panel you shared a story about how Yuasa-san had read the manga Eizouken prior to being offered the opportunity to work on it. Could you tell me about how it happened?

Choi: When we talk about a new project, we talk about manga, novels or original stories. One project, Eizouken, came up and surprisingly [Yuasa] knew the title. I said, "Oh, you don’t really read manga because we don’t have enough time to check every single title." But he said, "Oh I know Eizouken." I asked how he knew, and he said "I do 'Ego Search.'" Like, searching for your name. In Japanese, we say "Ego Search." Then he’s looking for his name, Masaaki Yuasa and then Eizouken came up and he said: “What is Eizouken?” Somebody said like, Masaaki Yuasa should make an Eizouken anime, and then he knew about the manga. It was a nice surprise, you know? He knew the title and then said ok, let’s check it out, and then maybe make an Eizouken anime?

I love that story. Thank you so much for everything you shared. This was fantastic, I’m really glad we got to talk to you today.

Choi: Thank you.

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com