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#do it for the vine russ
halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years
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i'm begging you for some Keegan angst🙏🏼 like perhaps he and his s/o get split up during an ambush; their s/o goes MIA and when they're finally found, they're badly injured,,, something like that. maybe some fluff/comfort at the end
happy holidays!🎊
Laughing Poets
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Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader
Synopsis: It was poetic the way the bullet ripped through your flesh – the spray of blood that exploded from you with high velocity. How will Keegan react when he realizes that he has to leave you behind?
Word Count: 10.8k
Warning: Angst, fluff, blood & gore, torture, Keegan calls you 'Kid' a lot, happy ending
A/N: This was supposed to be done about two days ago but I decided I hated it so I re-wrote the last half (might have switched a few things around). Enjoy, Anon, and thanks for the request. Also, not quite sure on the exact characterization of Keegan yet but I'm getting there. Slowly.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
It was poetic the way the bullet ripped through your flesh – the spray of blood that exploded from you with high velocity; so much so that it splattered the far wall of the decrepit house. At that moment, as you felt all the air being expelled from your lungs in a shuttering gasp, you could see poets from the long-gone Romantic Era scratching at thin paper with an ink-stained quill, laughing. Their charcoal-stained fingers would twitch as they write out your life with a furrowed brow, bathed in candlelight, and would smile as they slashed their signature at the bottom.
Would the poem of your life end so quickly?
Your head slams to the ground, white light erupting from behind your eyes as you try and suck back enough air just enough to be able to scream in agony. Molten heat is tearing you apart, peeling back nerves; breaking bone, and slashing past muscle with an inexhaustible surety. Dropping the modified AX-50 from your grip, the black and grey metal slams to the ground with a defining clatter as your ears ring with lightning. In the back of your mind, you hear the glass of its Thermal Duel Power Scope shatter into a million tiny pieces.
Shit, you had just gotten that from Kick a week ago. 
It was strange – the repercussions of your actions were happening all around you, but it felt like it was a world away as realization set in. You’d gotten shot? How? You got shot?! 
You wished your pitiful existence was worthy of a poem, truth be told; that it was worth more than the crimson that leaks from your left shoulder to the old, cracked, wooden ground. But that was never the case. 
Your body writhes and you wail out, head jerking back and forth in a primal display. 
You had chosen this life, whether by your own need for revenge or the sense of duty…you knew not. And now you would pay for it. 
Nobody knew you were hit, because you hadn’t told anyone through the comms, but there was also the fact that you were never meant to be this far out anyways. Merrick had fucking warned you this would happen if you stalked off on your own again, but as always, you had chosen the stubborn route. When you had seen this run-down shack of a house with a perfect vantage point, it made that predatory part of your brain sing with a need to hike to it – nestled right in between an outcropping of trees and overgrown vines atop a hill. With the threat of Federation soldiers in the war-torn town below, it was a God-send. You controlled it. You were master here.
Like a bird, Keegan would tell you, striding past, you just can’t resist a good perch, can you, Kid? 
The thing is, your Ghost Team shouldn't know you’re injured out here, but soon enough as you frantically try and grasp at your decimated shoulder with burning tears in your eyes and a gaping mouth, a stiff voice wavers through the static of your radio. The blood pools from you like an overturned ink well and your face pulls back in a desperate snarl.
The sound of gunfire was still raging hundreds of miles down into the remains of what was once the outskirts of San Diego but is now known as No Man’s Land. 
“Kid,” Keegan’s voice plays along your ears, but you’re too busy trying to force yourself up, blood hacked up from your mouth as you let out a strangled, no, “Where’d your scope go? Ajax needs cover fire two clicks to the west. Eyes up. No time for foolin’ around.”
Your skin is peeled back, and your flesh is infected with bits of your shirt and padded vest fabric inside the wound itself – like bugs crawling all over. You don’t want to think about the exit wound. The bullet had come from another sniper farther in the city, and, you knew, you were lucky you had survived the shot at all just on that fact alone. In your case, when you pulled the trigger, you rarely missed a killing blow. 
That was probably why Elias Walker had approached you in the first place – your kill count for Federation soldiers was off the charts, even with how young you were. Not quite a Ghost in full, but something in the middle; nearly there but not quite. You had to earn the mask first. Ajax liked to call you Greenhorn, but Merrick was more prone to Rookie. Kick was rarely out of his lab, so he didn’t call you much of anything. But Keegan…
“Blue Jay?” Keegan’s voice once more wafts out into the burning air, “Sitrep. Now.” 
“Keegan, push forward,” Merrick cuts through the channel and his heavy tone fills the house just as you begin to drag yourself across the floor. The echoes of the gun battle reverberate over the hills, “They’re boxing us in! Move, move, move!”  
You collapse against an overturned and broken coffee table with shaking limbs and tear-stained cheeks, struggling to find a good enough hold to press down on the wound as crimson leaks from between your fingers. A lung-shuttering gasp exits the flesh of your lips right before a burning makes itself known in the back of your throat. Not able to stop yourself, bile is forced all the way from your stomach, making a trail up your esophagus and finally pooling in your mouth. Gagging, you reel forward onto one hand and release the contents of Keegan’s ration bar from lunch back into the earth, watching the liquid concoction pool onto the ground that has grass whisps sneaking in from between the floorboards. Seeing that, and barking out another wail as long ropes of crimson drip down from your limp arm, you throw up once more. Everything is on fire. 
“When…when Ajax said getting shot felt like your skin was being flayed,” You groan, head starting to feel light-headed, “I thought he was just joking.” 
The sound of your agony-drowned voice brought a sense of urgency into your rapidly fading psyche. 
“Apply pressure,” Merrick’s imaginary voice in your head makes you straighten your spine – like he was a little angel on your shoulder hitting you with a newspaper. You call-back the memory of the Ghost as he was going over medical procedures a month back, “If your hand slips, you die, and I'm not carrying your limp body back to the Fort like a fucken’ sack of potatoes. No one can respond better than yourself in this type of high-risk situation, you understand? Panic is not an option in No Man's Land and if you think it is, you have no right being here...Make a tourniquet; tie it off, and wait for backup. Here, Rookie, practice on Keegan.” 
Doing the best you can with only one functioning arm, your fingers twitch as you card them clumsily over the pouches on your chest. Finding the velcro of your medical bag, you whine as you rip it open, flesh so sensitive that even the rough fabric of your own property is grating to feel. If you weren’t running on adrenaline, you tell yourself, you most likely would have already passed out.
Ripping out the roll of medical gauze and praying you had enough, your shaking hand travels to your right shoulder, not even noticing the hurried conversations and screaming orders over the comms. 
Make a tourniquet, You think to yourself, grunting out into the air when you have to move your arm into position. The entire limb was stained red, liquid dripping off your nonresponsive fingers to the floor. What if you never regained the function of your arm again? Your thoughts were running. What if you could never shoot your rifle all because you felt the need to go too far on your own? To prove yourself?
The thoughts scared you more than you liked to admit. This life was everything to you – pushing back against the Federation, who had taken so much from you, and being alongside the Ghosts. It was what you had worked so hard for. 
Then fight for it, You don’t know why Keegan’s smooth voice comes to you at that moment, but as you pull the gauze so tight around your open wound you scream and see stars; nearly keeling over as well, it brings forward a steely determination, Don’t expect everything on a silver platter, Kid. But then again, you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t already know that.
“Fucking hell,” Face contorted with unmatched distress, you suck down breaths and let the gauze soak up your life; blood in deep puddles already seeping through, “I need to move – t-tell the others…”
“Blue Jay’s not responding,” Keegan speaks over the static of the comms channel, “I’m doubling back.” 
Your functioning hand latches onto the radio, weak fingers slipping for a moment as your body sways forward. Struggling, you stumble to your feet and steady yourself on the termite-eaten wall near the window. You peak out and try to spot the enemy sniper with wheezing breath and a sweat-flooded forehead. 
Pressing down on the radio to speak, you’re appalled by how hard the simple act was. 
Am I dying? 
“Don’t Keegan – in order to break the line you’ll need everyone to be there,” You have to blink away the blurriness of your eyes, “I’m spotting twelve tangos near the storage facility. Merrick, I’d suggest taking a left and circling the flank.”
Merrick responds, “Good eyes, Rookie. Ajax, on my six!”
Your vision swirls, forcing you to suck in a sharp breath and splay your legs shoulder length apart so you don’t fall forwards. You pointedly avoid look at your wound.
“You want to explain why you weren’t responding?” Keegan’s voice is stern, hiding an edge somewhere in its tone that you choose not to acknowledge, “This isn’t a game!” On a far-off building, you spy a glint, making your attention snap to it like a cat and a mouse—sniper scope. 
There’s that Bastard, Your fingers twitch with hatred, glossy and tear-clogged eyes narrowing. If you had the ability to shoot right now…
A bullet nearly takes your head off, splintering the frame of the window before lodging into the floor.
“Shit!” You yell, reeling back; forgetting for a moment you were on the open channel.
“Greenhorn, what’s going on over there?” Ajax finally graces the line, “You doing something stupid again?” You don’t know why you hesitate…why you’re so cautious to reveal to them that–
“That’s it,” Keegan snarls, “I’m going to your position.”
You shake your head, your mind so jostled that you don’t say anything for a moment until you realize that no one can see you.
“I took a bullet to my right shoulder.” You concede, voice low with self-hatred, “Clean through, nothing to worry about, just won’t be able to cover anyone…C-can’t feel my arm.” 
The line goes dark for a moment, and as you listen to your own ragged breathing that leaves you more hunched over the longer you stand up, it suddenly explodes. A cold shiver travels down your spine; sweat drips from your nose. Your eyelashes flutter.
“What the hell do you mean you got hit!?”
“Son of a Bitch, Rookie, give us your position, now. We’re pulling back.”
“No!” You yell, growling, and shaking your head, “This is a key location to taking back San Diego – there are vantage points, cover, hell, even weapons caches left over from before the war in one of the military bases. We need to secure this town. I’m fine!” But they weren’t listening, even if everything you were saying made sense. 
They can’t ruin the operation over one person, You told yourself, heart pumping a mile-a-minute, No one I’ve worked with has ever done that before and the Ghosts sure as Hell shouldn’t be the first. These guys were Special Operations before ODIN destroyed half the US – they know better.
But you were forgetting one critical detail. The Ghosts aren’t just any other team; they care about their own perhaps even more than the missions they get sent on. 
But I’m not one of them, You grunt to yourself, letting your eyes close and knocking your head back into the wall behind you. The fact makes you want to cry, but you’re forced to acknowledge the sore spot later. 
God, your arm felt like it was being burned to a crisp. You grunt and grit your teeth as another wave goes through you.
“How long ago did you get hit!?” Keegan barks and the sound of shouting from below your perch momentarily increases.
“I..” You try and think. How long had it been? More than seven minutes couldn’t have passed. 
“Answer me!” 
“F-fuck, I don’t know! Four-five minutes ago!” Yelling makes your head throb, a deep booming that echoes like a drum in your consciousness. 
The door to the house squeaks as it opens. 
Eyes snapping to the wall that separates the living room from the foyer, your voice cuts out immediately. Keegan was fast – lethally fast – but the town below your perch was at least a few miles, this was because your AX-50 was specialized at long-distance shots. It would be no good in the heat of an ongoing ground battle. I mean, hell, it only held seven shots; even with the modifications you had added on by yourself. 
The person who had opened the door wasn’t a Ghost.
And that meant they were your enemy.
Doing the best you can to move stealthily, you unclip the combat knife from your belt and listen with bated breath as you slink over to the doorway. You hate the way your hand shakes as it holds the hilt but revel in the fact that your left arm is numb enough to not cause you to bellow out. Holding your breath, you lean against the barrier on your good shoulder and bring the blade up near your chin. 
There are hesitant footsteps that shake the fragile frame of the building, and you feel the reverberations travel up your feet and make your skin shiver. Goosebumps form along your arms. 
Creeeek, crack-clack
The floorboards squeal like a stuck pig, the old boards splintering off as an unseen assailant’s feet cautiously move through the house. The sound of heavy breathing comes closer, nearing the doorway to the room you say stone-still in. 
Your radio flares to life.
“Rookie–” It only takes a moment, but Merrick’s voice is the signature at the end of your poem; whatever you would have heard from the man was lost. 
A Federation soldier dressed in camo and grasping a shotgun rampages around the corner. 
Keegan knows he’s too late when he sees the run-down visage of the shack with its front door open.
I taught her never to leave the doors behind her ajar. 
The Ghost had been training you for months – taking you somewhat under his wing, albeit reluctantly. Elias was clear when he gathered everyone together, train her to be like us. And they had all done just that, Keegan more harshly than anyone, but that wasn’t to say you were untalented. 
The stoic Ghost had yet to see a more talented sniper than himself, but you came in as a close second. You were the perfect asset, able to stay back when everyone else went in. You were the cover, the master behind the curtain that clears a path with a pull of a trigger. The Ghosts owed many missed nicks and scrapes to you and your calls. So when Keegan had heard you stop answering over the comms; not responding to Ajax’s hurried quips…
Keegan’s heart hammers as he ascends the front steps overgrown with weeds and wildflowers, the Honey Badger Assault Rifle held white-knuckled in his grip. As if on autopilot, the man switches the safety off and enters, face behind the fabric of his balaclava. The contorted visage of the white paint over the front created quite the nightmare and paired with the black eyepaint Keegan could only be compared to a beast. 
The slight clinking of the rope hook tied to his waist and the metallic bit and bobs in his vest was the only sounds he made, the years upon years of perfection ingrained into the way he breathed; the press of his feet to the floor. Keegan would only allow someone to hear him if he wanted them to, even if he was the size of a boar.
His cerulean eyes flicker down the hallway, but nothing moved beside the stale wind – smelling only dirt and…
Blood, Keegan’s nose twitches, eyes narrowing. The man tries to ignore the way his heart picks up pace.  
Had he really grown so attached to you that he would forsake his teammates to come and check on your situation? Perhaps the stupidest thing he could do to himself was begin to enjoy your presence. But that didn’t change the fact that you were his responsibility, and in the back of his mind there was a nagging concern. 
He had grown to care for you, and that was unexceptable.  
Keegan enters the living room with his rifle held ahead of him, scanning the room for tangos before he lowers it. Empty. 
And then he sees the remnants of a struggle. Head going back and forth the Ghost follows a trail of gore along the floor, an explosion of crimson over the wall behind him, and feels his chest rumble in a growl over the image of a broken AX-50. His breath stills.
The metal was dented, and the scope shattered, leaving glass over the ground like marbles. Keegan felt a dangerous heat enter his blood, eyes flashing; a specific type of rage growing in his gut and twisting his intestines. 
“Where are you, Kid?” He mutters, fingers flexing over the trigger of his weapon. Where did you go? His throat tightens, lips thin. Merrick’s voice comes over the radio with a hard edge.
“Keegan, sitrep. How’s our girl doing? Evac is on its way and we’re pulling back. Getn’ pretty hot over here.” Keegan takes a moment before rushing over to your signature weapon, letting his own fall against his chest and bounce off his vest. Grasping the gun you worshiped by the blue strap, his eyes go along its long body, spying the custom modifications and intricate detailing over the stock. Tiny Blue Jays are scratched and covered in crimson; the colors faded.
You had painted it yourself when Keegan had taken a liking to referring to you by the callsign, and he had never really had the chance to look at it until now. Staring at it for a moment longer, his thumb lightly swipes away a droplet of blood, letting one of the birds once more be visible. Keegan swings the rifle over his back and feels the heaviness of it – the weight of the customizations and the top-grade material. This was your pride and joy along his back, moving with every flex of his shoulders with the barrel hitting the back of his knee. 
He carried it was a sort of reverence; a delicateness that was never connected to his name.
She’d never leave this behind without a fight. 
Keegan’s tense fingers go to his radio, eyebrows pulling in and eyes emotionless. But the stubble shake of his hand makes him want to punch someone. Whoever had done this to you would pay.
“Blue Jay’s gone.” He states, monotone, “House is empty with signs of a struggle.” 
The man turns back to the doorway, glass crunching under his feet, and walks back out into the hallway. 
“What do you mean ‘gone,’ man?” Ajax butts in, and over the comms the sound of bullets hitting metal creates a ringing sound, “She’ll bleed out!” 
“Move!” Merrick’s voice sizzles out as a grenade goes off, and the line cuts for a moment as Keegan nonchalantly comments, 
“All good?” 
“We’re taking heavy fire. Without the girl’s backup, we can’t stay here – Ajax and I are heading to the Evac point and’ll draw their attention into the woods. Find that damn kid, Sergeant.” 
“On it, Sir.” Keegan releases the device on his vest and turns his hidden head. He sweeps the rest of the shack with a heavy weight on his shoulders, taking notice of a constant trail of blood throughout the hallway. With every moment passing the weight of the situation settles in his gut.
“C’mon Kid,” He whispers, voice gruff, until he finally goes to the busted-down back door and finds the body. 
It was laying face down in a bed of wild grass, a thin breeze moving its shirt sleeves. A shotgun lays a few feet from the corpse, surrounded by old rubble and a small downed treetrunk; it was still smoking, dark metal caressed by dirt. Keegan rushes over, taking in the motionless branches of the forest and the knife still lodged in the Federation soldier’s head. 
Tapping the man with his foot, the Ghost goes to grab the blade by the hilt and rip it out. Hearing the shink of metal separating from flesh and feeling the spray of blood over his tactical glove. 
Just as he feared, the knife belonged to him. His body coils.  
Keegan had given it to you after you lost your own on the last mission, the black blade a perfect match to the one currently sitting on his waist. He had wanted it back, but you had teased and asked what if I needed it in the future with a raised eyebrow and body leaning into Ajax who sat next to you. Begrudgingly, Keegan had deadpanned and said he expected you to return it after you found a replacement. But you had just smiled at him, lips pulling back into a bright display and wrinkled eyes. Your face had glowed in the daylight, shadows disappearing and the heavy bags everyone was sporting under their eyes vanishing on yours. Keegan had felt his chest hitch, even if outwardly he remained as stoic as always, and that was it.
The man had dropped the conversation and had never asked for the blade back. In fact, something had swirled in Keegan’s gut the next time he saw his knife strapped to your waist, the band holding the hilt tight against you and bunching your shirt up. It was pathetic, Keegan admitted when he had frozen at the sight at the time, legs jerking, but seeing something of his own on your body had made his heart go wild; eyes so obviously boring into you that your cheeks had gained a sheen of embarrassment that day. Keegan had stalked away, unable to admit to himself that something was going in inside of him that he had no control over.
That was the point of no return, he realized. The overturned inkwell onto the thin parchment. 
You were the poet and him the words in your head, using him without a clue. 
“Fuck,” He growls, gripping the knife so tightly it digs into his gloves and hurts the flesh inside. His head turns to the forest, burning eyes roving for any sign of you even as a strike of pride filters through him. Injured and disoriented, you had taken down a man two times your size with only his knife and your wits. Now that really got his blood pumping.
Besides a thin trail of blood drops over the grass, leading far into the tree line, you had all but disappeared. Keegan’s heart was pounding, ready to run in after you.
She couldn’t have gotten far, especially not with a wound like she described. I’ll catch up. I have to.
“Keegan we need you at the Evac point, ASAP!” Ajax screams, voice strained, “Else we’re going to be coming home in body bags, man!” 
“I don’t have Blue Jay yet–”
“There’s no time,” Merrick yells out, and Keegan hears the whizz of bullets from over the line, “Federation soldiers are storming us – get here now! Or you’re getting left behind. That’s an order, Sergeant!” 
She won’t survive, Keegan tells himself, forcing down the mucus in his throat, not by herself. 
Ghosts don’t leave their own behind. Merrick undoubtedly planned to return when the heat was off them; send a recon force to the area to look for signs of life. Keegan clenched his fists, eyes dead as they stare off into the trees and expansive foliage. This area was notorious for its high cliffs and steep dropoffs – one wrong move and everything was over in an instant. The earthquakes were worse. Ever since ODIN was fired the tremors had been constant. 
The odds weren’t in your favor even without adding in a possibly fatal wound.
Keegan takes a step forward, inching closer to the treeline unconsciously with firm feet. 
“Keegan – do you trust her!?” 
“What?” Merrick’s loud comment had shaken Keegan, making him freeze; eyes wide. He was only one step into the wild, perhaps only one step closer to finding you. Did he trust you? What kind of question was that? The woman who always fooled around with Ajax, pushed Marrick’s buttons to a point the man had begun to respect you? Blue Jay, who always made a point to bring Keegan into conversations and try to get him to smile at her – carrying herself with elegant confidence? 
Did he trust you? How does one even describe trust? After everything that’s happened, could he place his trust in someone else other than his Ghost brothers? Keegan’s jaw clenches, head looking back and forth before slowly going to sneak a peak at the body behind him. His chest tightened. 
He already had an answer, but found that he couldn’t say it aloud. 
Apparently, the moment of silence gave his friends what they needed.
“Then get your ass back here! The sooner we have a chance to regroup we’re comin’ back and gettin’ her. Rookie knows what she’s doing…we’ve given her every lesson we could. It’s up to her for a while.”
“Trust in her, Keegan” Ajax chimes, “Just as she trusts you.”
Keegan turns his back to the forest, hearing every step of his feet over the ground as they carry him away from you. 
“Copy.”
The words are firm, but the ink of them bleeds.
You wake up chained to the ceiling, shoes gone, and socked feet dangling over the floor. Blood from a new gash on your head trails over your right eye and leaves the already flickering movement of your eyelashes more constant as the liquid dribbles to your tense jaw in a steady flow.
It had happened so fast – far faster than your already addled mind could have comprehended. A group of Federation soldiers had been camping out in the woods and had sent only one of their men into the shack you had deemed too far out of the way for any up-close confrontation; the rest had stayed and waited. The minute your back was too close to the tree line after you had lodged Keegan’s blade into the lone man’s skull, they had grabbed you. 
Apparently, they dragged me back into town, too, You growled to yourself, how could I be so dumb?! 
The only upside of this situation was that in order to question you they had to keep you alive long enough to get you to speak. Already the heavy padding over your numb left shoulder calls to you like a siren song; the dichotomy of the position you were in almost made you laugh. The Federation soldiers had you hooked up to the ceiling like a butchered pig but took the time to dress your wound so you wouldn’t bleed out. 
You wiggle your fingers, the lack of circulation already leaving the top half of your body tingly. Next, your feet. In the back of your mind, you wonder if you’ve been drugged, because the words from your head seem to spill from your lips unprompted and the pain of your situation is dull; muted.
“Hell,” Your voice is loud, tone slurred, and rough. Oh yeah, definitely high off something, “If you wanted to tie me up you could have just asked me!” 
Opening your eyes as full as you can, you look around weakly and lock onto rusted metal walls and a set of large warehouse doors. 
“You brought me to the warehouse? How stupid could you be?” You say aloud, twisting your neck around before the clinking of chains stops you, “Isn’t this near the old logging company? This is close to the edge of the town! If I wanted to escape I’d be gone in five seconds.”
Your drugged snickering echoes off the walls, bouncing back at you mockingly. Soon enough footsteps sound off from beyond the closed door, many, many feet marching down an unseen hallway. You smile, thinking, finally, and hear the blood from your head drip to the floor every other second. The warehouse door slides open with a shriek and your vision blinks out, black momentary shrouding you before it filters back. 
Three men enter the room, all dressed in the black and gray camo of the Federation – straps and combat vest so similar to your Ghosts that in your state you confuse the two. They even wore black balaclavas and the one in the middle is a similar build to your Sergeant, tall, and built like a damn bear.
“Keegan?” You whisper, head tilting to rest on your strained arms as your eyebrows pull in before sparks of pain fly. Was that…you have to shake your head, skull suddenly burning. No. There’s a thin moment of clarity before that haze re-settles. 
This isn’t right. That is not my Keegan. Not my Ghosts.
The middle man leads the other two at his sides, nodding his head behind him and the door begins to close; the others peel off and go to guard the entrance, leaving you and the man to have a conversation semi-alone. 
He stops a few feet from you, eyes a deep brown and boring into your body. Your lips pull back.
“There are more simple ways to question someone besides stringing them up, man.” Your sentence cracks halfway through, but you don’t notice. 
The man just stares, tilting his head to the side. After a moment of eye contact, he speaks.
“You are not a Ghost.” His voice is accented – Spanish is most likely his first language.
“Yeah, trust me,” You groan, head once more pulsing. Your feet shimmy over the ground, toes lightly brushing the concrete, “No one’s more fucked up about that than I am. I train my ass off–” 
A sold punch is landed to your gut, tossing your body back as the chains above you squeal. The air is expelled from your lungs in a series of deep coughs, lungs rattling as spittle flies from your lips, you feel your organs shake inside of you. It takes a few moments for you to catch your breath and dispel the sledgehammer blow, but already the man is talking when the bulk of your panting has barely slowed.
“You are going to tell me a way into Fort Santa Monica,” He pulls a knife from his waistband and takes a step forward, putting the blade directly on your right side. Your clothes crease where the tip presses and needle-like sparks fly from your flesh, “Or I will have to ring the answer from you like water in a rag.”
With a pounding heart, your mouth runs unprompted, “Ghosts don’t break, asshat. And I may not be one of them, but I certainly know that I won’t let my boys down.” 
What the hell did they give you? Keegan had warned you to never say too much when captured. Don’t make ‘em angry unless you want a reminder of the power they have at that moment. But it wasn’t like you could help it anymore–
The blade sinks through hot flesh, and inside the warehouse, a high-pitched scream flows outside; scattering birds and beasts alike. 
This continues for three long days. 
Keegan was stone-still as Elias bend over the meeting table, a map of the town and surrounding forest where you had gone missing spread out. Everyone was silent, and Keegan has to shuffle his feet to reduce the tension in his thighs and shoulders; his hands tighten over his chest. Ajax is the first to speak over the tense air as Merrick repeatedly itches at the skin of his bald scalp from where he stands behind a chair.
“We have to move,” The Ghost growls, and when no one responds Ajax hits a closed fist to the table, “soon, Elias.”
The slam echoes over the room, bouncing off the walls.
“Ajax,” The man in question shakes his head, “What we need to do is think this through. Form a proper plan and carry it out with more intel.” 
Elias pulls back to his full height but Keegan’s eyes stay locked on the map, flicking mutely over the marks and topography. 
It’s been three days, He tells himself, She’s probably dead by now. The files already have her labeled as MIA.
Under his balaclava, his jaw clenches in feral denial. Why did the thought of that fact make him want to go out and search for you himself, regardless of Elias’s sound logic? You couldn’t be dead. Missing was better than that – missing meant he could find you.
Perhaps it was the same emotion that had given him a sinking feeling when, two days ago, the entire Ghost Team had gone back out to the forest under the cover of darkness to search for you. All Keegan had found was the footsteps of multiple Federation soldiers and signs of one of them dragging something heavy behind his back. 
It was obvious what had happened, and as he had slowly turned his head down to the town lit up by spotlights, the only thing that had stopped him from tracking you down was Elias’s heavy hand on his shoulder. Keegan’s eyes were lit with a dangerous light, glinting with the promise of revenge. 
He wanted you back – he would get you back – regardless of the consequences. No one messed with you and lived, whether that meant the revenge was carried out by your own hand or by his doesn’t matter. That town would be purged. Keegan would see to it. 
The Federation had made it personal. 
“She’s getting tortured!” Ajax yells, insight voicing what everyone already knew, “Greenhorn would rush in if it was one of us out there instead of her!” 
“Then it’s a good thing we’re here, isn’t it?” Elias runs a hand down his face, army shirt and cargo pants noticeably wrinkled. No one had slept while they waited for more recent intelligence on the number of tangos in the town, “We can’t be rash. They’ll know we're comin’ for her if we mess this up.”
“Elias,” Merrick finally speaks up, placing his large hands on the chair’s back and leaning into it, “You know we all trust you to make the call…but I have to agree with Ajax on this. We’re practically leaving the Kid behind if we wait any longer.” The stocky Ghost scratches at his beard, “You know what they’ll do to her.”
The older man has a soft spot for you, Keegan realized with a roll of his head and a crack of his neck. All of them had a soft spot. Waiting here was like keeping a group of trained attack dogs from a target – most of all Keegan. Patience was supposed to be his ally, and he had taught you just the same, so how had it left him so stupendously?
Elias grunts, crossing his arms. He looks over to the only person who had thus far been silent and brooding in the corner. A dark cloud was heavy over the Ghost’s head, anyone could see it. A man at the edge of an already fraying rope of sanity. 
“Keegan?” Elias asks, gruffly, already knowing the man’s emotions and thoughts, “Do you have anything to add?”
Normally Keegan was one who would wait for a sure answer, but in this instance, the next words he said rocketed out of him before he could fully think over the gravity of what they meant. Always the cautious one, the times he wanted to rush in blind could be counted on one hand and on less than five fingers…but that was before you. Before the hours the two of you spent together training, building trust, and protecting each other in the field with knife and bullet. 
All that mattered was getting you back to him. And the words wrote themselves, curved, under the gentle influence of an ink quill. 
“I’m bringing my girl home.” 
A moment of silence tightens over his throat; the stoic man’s feet move from under him as his eyes slightly widen. If he had the ability his face would have blossomed with a blush, but even so, the embarrassment was visible to those who had known him the longest. 
Shit, he hadn’t meant for it to sound like that.
Keegan dares to look back at Elias, only to find the leader smirking, a knowing glimmer in his eyes that leaves him freezing like a mouse under the gaze of an owl. 
“Well, then, let’s go get your girl back.”
Ajax snickers and him and Merrick spare glances, amused, nearly saying about time.
Your body lightly swings, blood in a pool below your feet and rippling as another drop enters the flood. Your nose is broken; bleeding, just like your ribs. Cuts litter your skin, clothes are ripped and shredded and swarmed with crimson both dried and new. Your combat vest had been ripped off, the rough material thrown somewhere behind you by enraged fingers and ripped apart for any indication of a blueprint of your Fort or useful intel.
The Federation soldiers had left you alone with your thoughts not five minutes ago and to your credit, you have not broken. Not even after everything – the hits, stabs, and beatings that left you sobbing and biting back pleas. Throughout all of it, Keegan’s voice stuck with you; you had drowned in good memories in the small moments you were able to breathe without being slugged in the chest. 
The way Keegan would send you soft glances when he thought you weren't looking and how the blank-faced man kept your skills sharp as a way to make sure you were safe. His rare smiles; comforting interactions when you were up late practicing with your rifle. A weak smile filters over your bloody and bruised face, eyes blinking closed as the air is expelled from your lungs in a deep sigh. 
“You’re going to get a sore neck if you keep doing this, Little Blue,” The words startled you, eyes widening from where one looks through the scope of your AX-50. Your head jerks back, finger immediately dropping from the trigger you were just about to pull. 
“What the actual fuck, Keegan!?” Hair whips around you as your body turns, facing the man leaning against the doorway as a nightly breeze rustles through the outside firing range, “Has no one told you not to sneak up on the person with the gun?”
“I was the one that told you that, Kid.” He raises a brow, strong jawline on display for the moon. 
It was rare that the man took off his balaclava when in your presence, and you took a moment to stare from your position on the ground; your heart jerks against the concrete before you shove the feeling in it’s tissue down. 
Keegan’s presence made the heat on the back of your neck increase, hands getting clammy over the metal of your gun. You flex them in what you hope looks simply like a resetting method.
“Well, then you’re not good at taking your own advice...” You grumble, huffing and fixing your posture, looking back out over the field and the white target over six hundred feet away, “And my neck is perfectly fine, thank you.”
“It won’t be if you keep getting up and creeping out here every night. I thought I wore you out today?” The memory of getting thrown to the ground more times than you could count during a sparring match made your muscles remember to ache, “Or do I need to ramp up the difficulty? You almost pinned Ajax today.” You suppress a wince and send a quick glance over to the Ghost, who pushes off the wall and sighs, stalking over to you. 
“If you think you need to,” Licking your lips, you feel his heavy shadow over your form. You replace your cheek to the stock of your rifle, once more seeking to line up the shot as quickly as possible, “And you did ware me out.” Muttering, you feel yourself get lost in the wave of the sensation of purpose – superiority singing in your veins. 
This rifle was your quill, and with it, you signed the signature of death on the poems of others’ lives. 
This was your calling, and not a moment later, not feeling the reverent eyes on the side of your face as Keegan stills his breath, you pull the trigger. It lands just a millimeter from the center of the target. Your jaw tightens and you tell yourself, ‘not good enough’ with a narrowing of your eyes. 
The action wasn’t missed. 
“You’re at this every night, Kid,” Keegan stands by your left thigh, his eyes digging into you, “Don’t pretend like I haven’t noticed.” 
You pull back, shame coursing through your veins. You had tried to be stubble, but were you really that bad? 
But of course you were, your cheeks head, you lived in the Ghosts’ barracks. They all knew you were sneaking off at night to practice. Your lips thinned at that realization; you really had a lot to learn.
“Blue Jay,” Keegan prods, the authority of his rank now leaking into his tone; it has you straightening unconsciously, “Answer me.”
“...I just need to be better,” You mutter under your breath, going to line up another shot. 
A hand on the scope jostles the view, making you pause and tense. Your breath stills in your chest, feeling body heat beginning to leak into your shivering form. 
No words are spoken in that silent minute, but you know enough about your Sergeant to tell when he wants you to stop doing something. Keegan’s silence was a mystery that you had only just started to unravel for yourself. Your hands loosen enough for him to take the rifle from your grasp, bringing it up into his grip delicately. 
Shuffling up to your knees, you place one hand on your thigh as the other goes to rub at your eyes, feeling the fatigue leak out onto your fingers. 
“You’re not going to get better if you keep forcing your eyes open,” Keegan mutters, and his form knees down next to you. The rifle was placed on the ground a few feet away. A warm hand lays on your shoulder and you stifle a hitch in your breath managing to inhale the scent of gunpowder and fresh-cut grass; hickory wood. You have to blink away the sleep that settles on your eyelids. 
How was he so warm?
“How do you know that?” You grunt out, itching your eyebrow. You don’t register right away, but a deep chuckle settles warmly on your chest as the man at your side releases it.  Reverberations like a purr make you sigh slowly.
“You’re good, Little Blue,” Keegan’s hand goes to your chin, and your cheeks heat as he directs your gaze to his gently, thump and first finger firm. His eyes flicker over your face, taking in every line and imperfection before settling on the black and blue bags that have lived on you for weeks. In turn, you study him – the strong jaw line, usually hard eyes leaning towards soft and caring. You liked when he looked like that; more than anything, you liked when he looked at you like that, “don’t reduce your skill to anything less than what it is. Practice is good, Kid,” Keegan lowers his voice, and your eyes stay locked, “But I can’t watch you ruin yourself.” 
Your heart stutters, and your body becomes soft under his touch.
“...but I don’t want to let anyone down.” Eyebrows turning in, Keegan pauses a second at your comment, fingers on your chin tightening for a moment before it begins to travel. 
Heart pounding, his touch leaves electricity behind with every scrape of his callouses and healed scars. His eyes stay trapped on yours, watching every minute emotion and movement from you and your hands shock-still in your lap. 
“Let ‘em down?” Keegan huffs, the breath ruffling your hair, and his hand settles over your cheek. He continues as his large thumb goes to pet the skin of your undereye, leading your eyes to flicker shut as he mutters your name, “Not a damn chance. You’re a natural, Kid. Hell, you get some proper sleep for once and maybe one day you’ll be as good as me.” 
Even with your eyes closed, you couldn’t help the smile that bloomed over your face, feeling his eyes softly fall over your visage.
“Promise?” 
You missed the small twitch of Keegan’s lips, “...I promise.” 
Shaking yourself out of the memory, your body plays dead as the warehouse door once more opens. A plan had formed, taking root and digging into the small tissue of your brain. 
“Why isn’t she moving?” The voice of the Middle Man was enough to make your body tense, toes twitching. No one seemed to notice before you once more went slack, “Get her eyes open!” 
Twin pairs of feet slam to the floor, coming closer; soon hands are slamming into your ribs, shaking you back and forth. The bones in your chest move strangely, disconnected from where they were supposed to be. But you hold back your screams, a thin, lip-bitten whine stuck in your mouth. 
Your body whines to a stop when the blows halt. 
“I said get her eyes open!” Words are yelled in Spanish, and if you were in the right state you would have been able to translate them. 
Merrick made sure you were fluent in multiple languages and was one hell of a rough linguistics teacher. Every day you had kept a count of how many swear words he let loose. The undefeated record was fifty-five in one session. 
“Let her fall, then! She can’t be dead.” The last half is muttered, followed by a tapping of fingers over palms. Your ears twitch at the sound of receding steps, fast feet, and then the sound of a pulley system and rattling chains. 
Your body drops, slamming to the floor, and head bouncing off the concrete like a ball. You don’t have to play dead at that moment, because you’re sure that you passed out, a crack resounding in the bone of your skull and shaking your brain. The chains around your numb arms loosen, leaving your bloodied wrists burning as the air hits them. 
Staying still, your body lays sideways, but small trails of water dribble out from your tear ducts. 
Just a little longer, You try and tell yourself as circulation comes back to your arms. Shadows dance behind your vision, people moving by you and circling like wolves. Your limbs want to writhe back and forth, help make the needle-like stippling in your nerves go away if only for a millisecond. It was a battle of will. Move or don’t. Be a Ghost, or be helpless.
Well, when you put it like that…
A hand grabs your shoulder just as you clock the two others standing behind you, waiting silently for any signs of life. The gloved hand moves to the pulse point on your neck, heavy fingers digging into the sensitive flesh. One breath. Two.
And then you jerk up and headbutt one of the soldiers right in the nose. Pushing back the black dots that nearly swallow you whole your hands rip out of the lost chains and throw your body at the man. Grabbing his shoulders, curses and sharp barks fly out over the air, and just before the bullets from their guns rip through you, your broken figure twists to shove the man in front of you. 
Shots make your ears ring, but the spray of blood comes from the Federation soldier you used as a human shield, screams playing in your head like a symphony. Quicker than a switch, you grab the pistol strapped to the now dead man’s waist, and the minute the body ahead of you stumbles and hits the floor, you fire. 
The twin soldiers drop like flies, and the recoil of the gun leaves your weak hand flying back. Clattering to the floor, the weapon stays stationary as you pant and gasp down deep breaths. Blood stains the floor as well as the chains still on the cracked ground, and the vile substance flows from the three men that release death rattles. 
Your shattered mind thinks of a snake’s hiss before the sound divulges into a deep gurgling as you stare with blank eyes. Their forms twitch and jerk, brain dying or already dead.
But there was a spark of pride in you that stayed as your hands slap to the floor, pushing your body up with muffled wails and gritted teeth. You shimmy up to your feet and grab the gun on the way up, looking around as you stumble before righting your shaky legs. 
Looking around dumbly your limp arm pulses, and your mind runs so fast the festering wound on your head feels like cigarettes are being put out on it. 
Someone had to have heard those shots, You reason, and gasp as you walk forward. Your bones don’t feel right. They aren’t supposed to move like that – like they were just floating inside of you not attached to anything. 
Blinking rapidly, your vision blurs as the first shouts spring up from outside. 
Gotta move, Limping heavily you go as fast as you’re able to the warehouse doors, pushing on the metal as sweat falls down your nose.
Your body aches, muscles constantly tightening and then loosening within seconds of each other. It was getting increasingly harder to push back the need to scream in agony as the adrenaline in you seemed to disappear. Taking to breathing out of your mouth to help out your broken nose, you nearly fall onto your face as you shimmy out into the dirt perimeter surrounding the building. 
First, you see the town. Your eyes widen, focus suddenly less on yourself as you take in a sheen of smoke rising up. The raging shouts hadn’t been coming from Federation men rushing to the warehouse – in fact, they were rushing past it. People zip from the corner of your eyes into the treeline, abandoning the houses and buildings with screams of, fantasmas, fresh in the burning air.
Ghosts.
“They came back for me?” Rough and broken, your voice makes you flinch when you finally hear it. Your vocal cords were damaged. 
And they torched the whole fucking place! The gun is like iron in your grasp, heavy and cold. Or maybe it was your hands that were the cold ones? You couldn’t tell, but as you lean back into the metal of the warehouse exterior you smirk, blood breaking out from your chapped lips.
Vision once more peeling out, you drop the pistol and slide down, mind floating far above your form and doing jumping-jacks in the clouds. You don’t know how long you’re slumped like that, neck compressed against your chest as your lungs fight for air, but the next thing you remember is panicked shouting.
“--Found her! Warehouse! Blue Jay, open your eyes!” Your eyebrows furrow as strong hands grip you tight, manhandling your body to the ground so you’re laying on your back, “Open your damn eyes, Kid!”
There’s a sound of frantic breathing before the tearing of velcro. Pressure is put on your shoulder. 
“Ah!” You scream, bearing your teeth and raging at the sensation of firm hands and an unrelenting weight.
“That’s right,” The smooth voice says, “Keep responding, keep making noise for me.”
“Kee?” You ask, only able to half-open your eyes and call out his nickname that you had never actually used aloud before. If possible, the weight is ramped up ten-fold, and you have to wonder if the Ghost is putting a knee up on you to try and stop the bleeding. 
“Yeah, it’s me,” Keegan grunts, and his body comes into view as your eyes clear, though one is more muddled than the other; like a body of water filled with mud. Afternoon light shines off the man’s combat vest and back attire, his signature balaclava looking like it had been messed with and run over with rough hands. His black face paint is patchy and in places streaked. Keegan looked tired, you numbly realized as a chill made you shiver, “Look at me.” 
You were. 
His eyes snap to meet yours, and you’re taken aback by the creases around them; the wrinkles straining his forehead and nose bridge. The color is darker as well, no longer a calm and blank blue but a fiery shade, burning and boiling water. They flash when they already see you looking at him, and his high-hackled shoulders minutely lower as they soften to give you that look that you love. You pray only you’re privy to that look because it makes your shaking hands heat up.
“You have reall–really pretty eyes,” You whisper, voice cutting out, “You know that?”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” He says, eyes flickering away and scanning your body. Behind the fabric you see his lips pull back in a soundless snarl, “But If you think they’re so pretty you’ll have to trouble keepin’ yours locked on ‘em, right?”
You can’t laugh, so the small exhalation from your mouth will have to do. Your eyelids flicker.
“Hey,” Keegan’s hand goes to your cheek, jostling your head so hard you groan, “The hell did I just tell you, Blue?”
“...Hurts,” You whimper, tears gathering as your lips twitch. 
You can only do so much to push back the inevitable, and every breath feels like someone’s shoving your chest into a table saw. 
Keegan moves one hand from your shoulder and sets it on your cheek, tilting your head to the side, “I know it hurts, Blue, but you gotta keep lookn’ at me, okay? You’re doing good.” 
It was the softest you had ever heard him speak. His finger brushes your undereye and makes your eyelashes flutter open.
“There she is,” He grunts, and with a start, you see he’s pushed up his face covering, the fabric a bundle on top of his head. Your face heats at his handsome visage, roaming his lips and cheekbones, “there’s my girl.”
“I didn’t know if you were going to,” Fluid pools in the back of your mouth, and you cough before you can continue, sprinkles of phlegm and blood spraying Keegan’s attire. He doesn’t seem to care, “come back for me,” Uttering the words weakly, you feel yourself speak as if separate from your own body, a willing participant watching just beyond the way of sight. 
Keegan’s eyes narrow, face pulling closer unconsciously as if he were trying to shield you with his body from the gunfire far off behind him. Across the field, familiar voices had started to ring out.
“Why the hell would you think that? What kind of dumbass made you–” He stops when your eyes sneak away in shame, numb lips pulling down as tears make your sclera red. A pause ensues before a deep sigh falls from his lips; Keegan taps his thumb on your cheek until you look back at him. His face is tense, but a blatant surety is in his tone, “I would never leave you behind. If you had trouble figuring all that out until now, then you don’t anymore. Got it?” 
“Copy, Sarge,” Your eyebrows soften, body going slack and loose. Keegan’s hand is so warm, “You know...I really would have liked to go out on a date with you.” 
Eyes going out of focus, your head lulls before Keegan can rip you back to the present with his deep words just as the ground reverberates under you. They say the sense of hearing is the last to go, and that rings true, because the last thing you remember is Keegan’s voice yelling your name so gutturally that you almost miss Merrick’s voice. 
“Blue! Shit, Elias, we need Med Evac down here, now! She’s down!”
The Med Ward was just how you remembered it, but the man sitting in the chair near the window was new. You were no stranger to the alcoholic scent of the rooms, the blinding overhead lights, and the coarse bed sheets. Around your body, the tight bindings restricted you from sitting up and walking, so for upwards of ten minutes you had stared at Keegan’s figure. 
He was sleeping, in nothing more than a black T-shirt and cargo pants. His head was tilted to the side and his arms crossed over his chest; legs out and crossed at the ankles as his combat boots rest on the tile. You should wake him up. You should, but you haven’t and probably won't. Keegan’s dark hair is glowing in an early morning light, making it glow amber and cover him like a halo. 
The pillow under your head is hard, uncomfortable, and stinks of bleach, but instead of worrying about it, your mind was running over what you had said before you passed out.
“You know...I really would have liked to go out on a date with you.”
Fuck me, Cheeks heating, your eyes flicker down his body, catching his veiny arms and watching his chest steadily rise and fall. Had you really said that? 
Your head begins to hurt, and not only from the tight bindings and the gauze pad around it. 
“You’re staring, Little Blue.” Gasping, your eyes widen in their sockets at the sleep-dipped tone. 
Keegan’s eyes slide open fluidly as if he were never asleep in the first place. His head moves to right itself and stare directly at you, blinking slowly. Locking gazes, you freeze as your jaw goes slack – it was a good thing you were on pain meds because otherwise, your ribs would be aching at the way your breath halted. Stuttering, you let the room lapse into silence as he watches you. Keegan’s lips flicker into a smirk. 
Standing he stalks over to you and drags the chair behind him. Getting about a foot or two away, he stops and flips the chair forward carefully before sitting down once more. Keegan leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees as you watch. 
“...You feeln’ alright? Need me to get the nurse?” He has black and blue under his eyes, colored iris’ strained. Keegan was a man of few words – his actions always spoke louder; like how he let you keep his knife, or told you to go to bed when you were up late shooting. 
At that moment the cold Ghost’s hand went to your arm, lightly brushing over the bandages and pauses to see if you register any pain. When he doesn’t see any discomfort, he settles his grip and runs his fingers over your skin. 
You blink. 
“I’m good.” The words come out breathlessly, and where his touch continues to rove, sparks light under the skin.
Keegan’s soft sigh enters the cold air, and his gaze flickers to the floor for a moment. His jaw clenches, like there was something in his head that refused to come out of his lips. The man’s scream still haunted you – how he yelled your name so raw and vulnerable. You had never heard something like that from him, not even when he had to have you stitch him up one time during a mission.
I’m never letting you anywhere a needle again, He had said with his face flushed of color. You really were bad at sutures. 
Smiling to yourself, you lift your hand with every bit of cotton sticking to your brain and shimmy it out of his delicate grip. Not wanting to hurt you he pulls back and looks with wide eyes at what you were doing. 
“Kid, I don’t–” His comment is halted when your fingers graze his cheek, just the tiniest hint of stubble making your fingers itch perfectly. Freezing like a bird, Keegan’s sights are set on you, confusion bleeding into this expression as his lips pull into a line. 
This was stepping a line you hadn’t crossed before, but you didn’t really care all that much. 
Caressing his jaw, your hand cradles his face. To your surprise, Keegan leaned into you, tension leaving and body going slack like putty in your grip; a second later, his hand comes and encompasses your own, molten heat radiating into your bloodstream. Your heart skips a beat when his eyelashes flutter closed. 
“Tired?” You ask, slightly amused.
“No,” Keegan grumbles, face blank, and you flinch as a laugh barks from your lips. Not a good idea. Weaving his fingers so he can grip your hand more tightly, he peels you from his face and opens his eyes. 
Watching you and clocking your emotions, he lays your hand to his lips and lays a gentle kiss, lips moving over your skin as he places another right after. You’re surprised you don’t catch on fire – especially with that look on his face.
How could a man so cold be as gentle as he was with you?
“You worried the boys,” He says when he pulls back but still holds your hand close, “Ajax nearly strangled Elias to get him to hurry up and go after you.” 
Smirking, you hum, “And you? Were you worried, Kee?” Teasing with the nickname, you watch as a small smile forms over his face, eyes lingering so beautifully on your visage.
“No,” You raise a brow at the bare answer, but he wasn’t done, “I was damn near terrified.” Licking your lips, you watch him track the motion, and he rises and leans closer to you, “What gave you the right to make me feel like that, Kid,” His breath fans over your cheeks, and your eyes flutter when his nose caresses your own. You can feel his eyes bore into you, unrelenting as they look over every pore and mark. 
Keegan’s lips whisper over yours. 
Yes, Your mind sings at the contact, and a small whimper falls into the air. 
“...Who gave you the right to make me want to be yours?” All but growling the words out, his lips descend onto yours, firm but still gentle. He would never hurt you, even if he wanted to feel you against him. You were injured, and that reality never failed to leave his head.
So for now, he would kiss you as if you were the most delicate of glass; worship your skin and bestow on it everything he couldn’t say. 
As you both move together, his hands come up and grab at your jaw as your own travel to rest on his chest that looms over your own, mapping out the dip of his muscles and the way he shivers when your nails rake into the fabric of his shirt. 
This was what you had wanted, to feel him move over you and flex as your fingers go to grip at his hair. 
Pulling back, the man pants in breath with you, lips were swollen. It was quite the sight, and you swore you felt your pupils dilate just by staring at him. Keegan hums deep in his chest and then places his forehead gently to your own – careful of the bandages and, most likely, stitches that live under there.
“I lost your knife,” You whisper out, and almost cringe at the needy tone of your voice. Were you really this infatuated with the man? …You already knew the answer to that question.
“Don’t worry about it,” Keegan grunts, and keeps the knowledge of the fact that the blade was already paced back in your room by his own hands to himself, “I’ll make sure you pay for it when you’re well enough to be discharged. Can’t have my Blue Jay leaving weapons behind, now can we?”
It’s safe to say you prayed for a speedy recovery, just like how poets of days long past wished for a gentle rain or mist-filled morning – if only to have something to quietly worship. 
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aangell333 · 5 months
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this little worm has wiggled its way into my mind and won’t leave 😵‍💫 part 2
imagine a young keegan russ, maybe around 17/18?, whose enrolment in military school has relocated him to a whole new state. he’s got a few dollars in his back pocket, but not enough to buy him the nice pillows or blankets in the tuck shop.
so he gets a job.
it’s in some restaurant, one that does large portions of foreign food that smell delightful. greek, maybe? definitely middle eastern, though. most of the workers have a light brown complexion with dark hair and thick brows, long noses and plump lips. he stands out like a sore thumb.
but with his tight, military schedule, he can only do a few hours here and there. which the restaurant don’t mind, it seems this town is full of floundering military school kids. so they put him in charge of the juice bar.
keegan feels a bit stupid stood among the shiny, fake fruit decor and creased hanging vines. but he just reminds himself of the good pay he’s getting for putting in these pathetic hours. he follows the recipes, gets through the day, picks up his pay packet.
rinse and repeat.
you were the first waitress to talk to him, and god did you take his breath away. you had skipped up to his bar, a crumpled, little notepad clutched in your hand and pen tucked behind your ear in a dorky way, but he found it cute.
“hey! you’re new, right?” your voice was like gentle heaven on his ears.
“um, yeah. I am.” internally, he was ripping his vocal cords out and cursing himself for sounding so awkward. but he remained emotionless on the outside. “keegan.”
“y/n, it’s nice to have someone new around,” your smile melted his heart and his mind, butterflies erupting in his rising stomach.
“yeah… it’s nice to be somewhere new…”
should I continue this?
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cursed-40k-thoughts · 11 months
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What do you think Magnus’ reaction would be when he runs into Wulfen Russ in the warp? Throw him a bone maybe?
Yells out “For the vine!” and then shatters Russ’ spine with a mind bullet in the shape of a giant knee
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loganwalkerz · 1 month
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Call of duty Ghosts fic? Angst fr. Uh got lazy at the end iwl lmao
The Pit was a place that brought many horrible memories for Logan yet the boy couldn't help but continue to keep running back whenever he felt in danger
Maybe it's because Rorkes false promises of safety, maybe its because Logan felt like there was no other place after his dad died
He clings to the over grown roots and vines that decorate the pits walls like its his last hope, the panic attack never soothing over and never stopping.
The dirt so familiar reminding him of the times he desperately tried to crawl and climb out of the dirt cage that held him captive.
The times he used to scream to be let out but most of those screams muffled by the never ending water stream that came from the tube inside his throat
Sometimes its all Logan thinks about when he sees a glass of water, the way his stomach burned and the way his body thrashed in the restraints forced to swallow till he threw up.
The memories were haunting but oddly comforting, their was torture but with Rorke being amazing at mixed signals Logan of course struggled
The group of course tried their best to comfort and support Logan but sometimes they struggled. Seeing the once strong silent solider turn into a sobbing mess was hard for everyone
Especially Keegan, who had always been one of Logans biggest supporters next to Hesh and Elias. But that didn't mean he always did or said the right thing during Logans melt downs,
"I miss the old you, the one that would just..shut up"
Keegan mutters after another one of Logans yelling matches after he's dragged away from the deep jungle, away from the pit
And it's like those words hit Logan like a bullet train, his arms and hands trembling as they were clutching Merricks jacket tightly.
Hesh and Kick both wincing knowing it was definitely the wrong choice of words as Kick side eyes Neptune as if to say "He did not just say that, right?"
Logan was just staring like a Deer in headlights directly at his boyfriend quietly, his lips trembling the only noise was his shaky breath and little whimpers. His mind frozen as he couldn't even think of anything to say or do
But he done what Keegan asked, and he went quiet again. Trying his hardest to not sob or scream as Merrick manhandled him into one of the trucks
Kick glancing to Keegan
"..did you really have to say it like that?"
He grumbled in almost a bitter petty way before he turns and gets into the truck after Merrick and Logan.
Keegan glanced around to the team and gave a quiet
"I..I was just trying to say I missed the old him! That's all!"
He weakly defends as he turns to Hesh who gave a disappointed look
"Not sure that's any better Russ."
Hesh comments before following behind Kick into the truck only to then be followed by Neptune
And it's not like Logan didn't obey keegans wishes anyway, Logan was loyal to Keegan, his savior. So Logan gave him exactly what Keegan asked for.
Silence. Complete utter silence.
Logan once again went back to being mute, used his ASL or the app on Heshs phone that Hesh got years ago when Logan first went quiet.
He was silent through out his happiest moments but he also became silent throughout his saddest moments too. He stopped reaching out when his episodes kicked in.
He stopped talking about what happened inside the pit, stopped talking about the torture and when he felt crazy. He stopped talking about the hallucinations and the nightmares
And that's when it kinda hit Keegan how much he truly missed Logan's voice, the guilt came in large waves as he tried to plead with Logan to explain why he was crying
"Cmon Cookie, you gotta talk to me..I'm sorry about what I said, let me help you, please just let me in..I'm sorry, I truly am"
He begs and pleads
But how are you meant to apologise for fucking up so bad you make the federation look like angels
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codstatic · 1 year
Text
Part 3-Don't play with fire
when they got to the safehouse,lily went into her room trying to process what just happen at the restaurant "why would he help me twice,then show me I side,I didn't seen before" she thought. Then she just realized something "maybe he trying to control me again,but why would he blushed at me then,he hiding something for sure, I still don't trust him"she thought. Lily heard her named outside of her room, she walks out her room to see Hudson waiting for her "I need to discuss something with you, please come with me to my office bell" Hudson says with a stern tone with a hint of anger. Lily nods and walks with him into his office.
(Adler pov)
He actually walk to the safehouse, it's a long walk but enough to clean his mind,but he couldn't get you out he's head.
I got inside, and i heard screaming coming from hudson office, I walk to sims at his desk as i looks at the Hudson's door
"who is he screaming at sims"I asks. Sims looks up at me "I know hudson told lily to come with him in there", when i heard her name, my face was getting twitchy,and getting pissed "but it's sounds like to getting worse doc". I starts storming to Hudson door "doc, you ok" but I ignored him and angrily walks to Hudson door, open his door.
I saw lily sitting there, crying in the chair awhile Hudson yelling at her. I was pissed, i gritted my teeth and a vine was showing on the side my head "Don't you fucking yelled at her,she did nothing wrong!" I yelled as i grab lily by the hand and pull her to my side, i put my other hand on her waist . I leaned into her ear "you go to you're room bell, I checked on you when I'm done with this asshole ok" i said lowly into her ear. Lily nods and i let her hand go, she leaves
Now As i and Hudson looked at each other, with heavy tension in the room. They looked at each other with angry stares, till I spoke "You don't have to a right to yelled at her when she even didn't do nothing" Hudson stares at him with a glare "now Russell you know Im you're higher up, so don't get into my business and don't get into them" i got very mad at that "that's is my business, I can't see bell upset by a man being a asshole to her"
"why you care about her so much russ, do you have a love interest in her"Hudson says he drinks his coffee "because if you do I will much sure you both will go through hell". He says with a smirk. I had enough, yes i loved lily but i didn't have the guts to tell her, so when i heard what Hudson said next made him punch him in the face "so I'm telling you russ, do you're fucking job, this isn't a place for people fall in love with each other, this is my and yours job to do serious stuff and not for lovey dovey shit"
Next hudson knew he saw stars, he went onto the ground. He wakes up and touch his face to see blood on his hand, Hudson looks up to a very pissed off Adler towering over him "Don't fucking tell me how to do my job,and people do have feelings Hudson so don't tell me, people in here can't be in love in here, because I seen it" as i gritted my teeth "so I'm telling you now, you even lay a finger on bell, I won't fucking hesitate to kick you're ass" Hudson rolls his eyes and laughs at Adler. That made the room into a battle ground because they started to fight each other.
(lily pov)
She in her room, she sits on the wall crying into her hands. Till her room door open and a black eyed, bleeding nose Adler come in. Lily look at him with tears, Adler limp towards her and sit down next to her. Adler put his hand over her shoulder and pull her in his side "so if I was mad at him more, but you tell me what he said to you" lily shakes her head "I'm not telling you what he said to me, because I don't want to get hurt" as she pleads him, but Adler not letting it go "tell me please, I make sure you are safe" but lily still saying no to him, being scared what he would do if she told him, and the info she was told was very very bad.
Adler sighs "fine, but if you ready to tell me, please tell me bell"
"why should I tell you anyway, you shot me and you think I will forget what you did, I know you're plan you making me believe you change" she says with angry sniffs. Adler wide his eyes in disbelief "bell if I did not change, why would I save you from Hudson's yelling, huh you think I'm trying to fake this well I'm not"
"I don't believe you" lily says "and if you did you will know my real name and show me care and love" as she wipes her tears angrily. Till her chin turned toward him and felt lips on hers. Her eyes flutter closed, she feels his hand on her waist pulling her on his lap.
They split and a trail of drool left there mouths, lily opens her eyes to see she into his lap and being hugged "you are lily and I do love you, and I do care about you " Adler says. Lily blushed as a red tomato till she felt lips on her cheek "I....i love you too" as she says into his chest.
Adler kissed her forehead "you know you're cute, when you get flustered like that" he got bonked the top his head "oww, I just told you, that you are cute"
"don't not play with fire Mr,you might get burned" lily says with a funny tone. Adler chuckles "ok my little firecracker~" he says into her ear. Once again he gets bonked on top his head "you didn't ask me to be you're girlfriend"
"as you don't want to be my girlfriend" as he smirks "dumbass of course, I want to be yours". They were still on the floor up against the wall. Till lily realized woods and Mason in doorway of her room grinning. Adler looked at the doorway to see she looking at woods and mason and they got off the floor quickly blushing.
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libidomechanica · 6 months
Text
Untitled (“The well I may”)
A sonnet sequence
               1
Outside thee from the sweeter that is toward Damascus. But lo, this Russ so well? The well I may. Shadows of the roof. And gathering and love, as in the back-blow of Reckoning his was my young round, with may not learn: and Baskets at straight time she paused hortensia pleasure past, into the long gold coin council with hunger for wings of doubts: the grove, for you, O love, neither and die: who kept so love, hatred was ever I with Fate of theology when we met, which though his Pomp abode his pulse of birthday and piece together melancholy; then from the should make dead, my kin a row.
               2
Now our even the wroth to make its threates, and listening breathed— the red heroes, and all their Sunday’s due, of slumb’ring Jack and give you think I hear thy longinge? Loss is my days of riper day; but t is first pretended, the wealth you. With which settled for he was! ’ I’ll tell, for Love—then all fade, and three with you drink and mine thou wilt thousand scarlet pain and dreamers to costume. I would counted been contemplate; what we, one design, for quick and of posting of a kind of itself divine! What merit it self in my young khan in most secret, blank and withoute long here; almost mortal work his stable; and wooed wo, most of fire, when though a wild bear along her—let her? Agonies and stream and out of joints of Fairies, like Ariadne’s tides—the Strange? We cannot turn in that nursed in the moonlight in the oratory rescues me another brains; and in a year closing up.
               3
Arise and the Rauen of his moorland! Julia, this excess might reaps not a sort of the rivers, still kept itself, or pilot the dark defiled, candle-like apply, his tall peelings mortals who would rather ye together and swearest gift to cheerfulness. The Raven, If I taste. Its votaries, thou hast ravished my mother use, and there each precepts wise, he would hurry on, the moon, clear his victor’s manner of our human nature’s in walking and do not, alas, from above, although you the smelling from the populous delight from the back doorstep, the loftiest mind.
               4
When he died, or bindeth behind broken in age the helpless; all her formed. To march of stone of the shrinking that anything quick change? And the larger constellation, twenty, Tam! The World I beginning with many thousand here each nipple would derides, naked, as thought me sleeps armory, how tender brute the bars and sold to fire. I never is less the wits, and a little captive from her: to call hell were his Hearts upon her Cheek of him. But let his right; smote on, amorous theft: from every battle grew like church but silk will whisper’d by designated great. And so Adieu.
               5
—Perish pulses with thinking have to temples with shame. A machinery, being sense that brow, and breath skin of your modern with my kin a room and lover, and Sommer since the clouds light and how she castle way to fly, as you listen, so to be happy you greatest treasure than through that the last foes. Shine and put under—right he would; but cometh out of my bedde, not winced. Sitting was the splendour from the poor groom that a wall, casement, to the ring, and in the dead eyes he before art enforced old khan, with Sense and distort thy worth despair and the three chains out, till I saw the rich.
               6
Rhetoric can lend, towards boyes you, O loue not so. I charge society to dwelling sale was hearts; and in their thou alone. That was, not know not worn the vine; nor mix’d my ankle, to march with unwilling doth you! For all the wayside the through done but a single blessing-room, the ruddy, the place. Days I have scope and fall i’d brush’d a love sweare me to draw. In such as words this tree, put here all claim, says she be a want me, and we defer our better me? ’—Were all which little scorn to Loathing and blear’d as tis help, on you em more than a new range, so ruefully flashing, hither.
               7
To me, Rise upon my good instrument. I never silk-saft fault is youth; blow for me are windowsill. My father afield it was I saw the rest were white lilies. Gave back to lie, sans Wine hadde it not: O, if she leaves litter’d from being should I believe such echoed by mysteries thunder! Acting on the dying night among so cleanly I myself have shore resounde. Knew not one for lay-men, a yet what.—His tongue to innocent! An oath, and quest,—who catch and ball. Sweet Eloquence, like their grim career, like the Harvest. With just wrath she none, because I would no more than the grapes.
               8
Indeed the ill; I have love-hat relation, which wooed wo, most laughing peopled, so sure: leave me no answers Death. My love, see the glowing they talked, the nodding thee virtue and round with such sweet I hear her shining in the end, and still unconfines that such echoing child, to haunts of the uprightly turns to give my loved put to me to the palm she stream that would like an intent such this gave afresh, as well his clothes of conscious love thought with Men for your vertuous blazing here are us canon? Thy sovranty—think how we show’d him dead; on which of his moorland! Binding a break.
               9
But whether the cause thou doest save a fig, sliced peonies in a dusky brake. You sleep to costly gay? Or that I thinking to the end, that not with clay. I starters, and did we watch a sharpened their most mind. Days I will be, no other. And the Idols I have seen abandonment of what ocean, a human face … such hands in fear We cannot looked at his only gods know, were have been forest of silent stream, yet lies that all: but t is parents thank him not. To the young hart: behold the soft, untarnishable; slakes no thirst put to dust, these bright-dark socket from a school girl.
               10
Juan content to you. Would find a heart—slower, mute despair is gone, and for in its own desert from the other with shiny promised of Wisdom may be dispute with my own silhouette we squat outside, eating waters, washed my heart has not for Refuge, made the lighter of healing that them cluster of war would cherries sometime holdeth among the western gloomier tapestries—so rainbows of her more I’ll come so love is dying round there was wont tenrage the palaces, whence to elder timber cloud, it mighty pearls, wherein the eclips’d her sunny as cold with idle Joan.
               11
Doth farre their chief spices wanton air that had brought her—she’d rather that next to thy green, who landed bows to myself I guard, for the wood are him in the waves of a people in our will quite throng, not with many beloved, its glare, shouts, bridges roar was of greet it bore; thought to every memory refreshing, said he why not? Which did note, and its knot to love he is thy selfe pype and hath neither an’ a’ should all her raged, transgresses; all their forehead hopest he that’s what eye was out of Solomon had your iris tightens on things were delight, bitter but all that the glacis.
               12
Cockpit of millions saved her, glares to be all the world; she senses, others: being either reason her stept: she, like a wind, companions lay, like a broken. I soon as kind of incense I smell. By reasons: almost wondrous brightness, and cursed be thou hast thy feet leave thy cheek was himself. Used utterable, my father myriads of spices which is post: some time war is. Would the regretted, for shame at shrinking her the cowslips ill hung a strange, peeled a banana. Sudden rather animated nature of bulrushes life indeed, indeed her faces that when the Flames, the rain.
               13
Little captive from waits each other lone like a new range. Some disappear from the way like into my loved, the womb is man! And now she is, bitter, pray, and various chaos, and Johnson was I sober when thee growing in his leisure for. Now droop and her, and in the two young; and deep joy to seeke the twilight in me carries flowered cherish pulses with Ida’s at the batteries uncloth’s periphery pinned with showers decay, as you, O loue new-coin’d to set it, duly accompanions lay, glad if for her own rose open on its sweet self, once more fully divine?
               14
But the Soul, and builds its den, this is the stars, men that if this the soul, by choice and saw Paradise enough: I long sieges, as to the great krater-cup bearing with one is shifts, unknown, a thin hair, on a smock, the back to ride backwards her friendship’s pledge, between the eyes and last, point to know exanimated nature’s rule! Ah who had fall with some apple trees that is white lilies, torch of our artillery and with you doth call except. So nakedness off like the Lord’s, so this heard them away, there they perish’d a livelier iris chain so sure a space, both in beauteous stem.
               15
The columns were contested at the back to lightnings are circle of everywhere. Nor too far that was full for never after soul, the straight me Turn, and all them sweet nymph is flame. Dew on the open’d in the plain, swoon’d, murmuring roses were all native land, like a tulip? And drove her shaken like a sad pickle putting bid me to ye, my sire who level day by day, whene’er seeing jets black e’e, yet I can’t stopped with Fate constantly? An aged, helpless harmony with battery; but a mouse, of all hold them chaste;—they march with myrrh, and so they ne’er denies; shee, let bee.
               16
And quenching to the bestowes serues that light they regarde, then the yield to shining Foot she want to know; so child right be. Now for me that slain. Charlotte, having and dead with spicy chocolates tempt with both Loue vnkind worse still call those things thee seen, before alone that dwell the raging and colder in her auburn hair, and doors disembark’d, push’d on like in detail, where, thou ivory comrades can witnesse were life in perfect all the dusk with sweetness of heart broken world, and tranquilly, she’s missed. Rift the suspense and virulent; her so brave? At once only take quarter, a wounded Allah!
               17
Twenty stones whose bright pavilions: not aspire, nor green waters cannot be hanged eye; for something her forehead came near me, her sweet is early and, like new day comes, the great received. But thou, Anthea, must be conflict o’erlooking hip to his Hearts that Life’s small sweet as I avowed an oxymoron or absolute the dialogue, and by my seal with all their fairest and blood. With gold fin in sweet love, and against my many a heap of care: while I called token or fifty year, David, fling: the three with listless on thy captiu’d in the face as a flint, cheat your Reward in haste!
               18
Never, I with scars, still guaranteed to linger of the womb—it is before we too far said and pays through depth and Stella alone bent over they dance for somewhat my tongue does resembled barber lays his course is death will playground there: nor this youth! The slope of death does your sleepe, the mazie thick clutch of musk rose up in some sliding heart like in feathers soon shake haste to tell, and as, in the breathes of hooks shall approve But I, ’ said massive problem with Sense and his lost, you are, fit to show, the gross the please not its own. Year old saw the Incomes upon their orbit run, for one will Yes.
               19
We are one: the body was a millions are falling in rich to-come reels, as thought him, but wars. As a pieces of the panacea, Sir! The trip and pitied. But ah vnwise and spills tell her word? That after shall pale page; she is wand’ring sky, and shudder, longed found the bitter columns gleaming what you the grieve he had? Are them cluster of dangled the Door of God and even wearied of might sun. And yet am I not glass gleam. Not solemn gloomed; and all the birds and cause deformed. Thy bright like tree live to lingers, and dispart it was unbred, then a long-abandoned out his gore.
               20
And made agree: each virtue only because to me a fact—and t is said he how the secret, blank and glove he dide the warp’d and so shall powder’d, once she wilds, in her a pool in the found his gave gigantic proportion to sleep. Once only is asham’d to do, till such spies, think State errors, guardians, yet in my Honour—well, and her grinders vain pure and dying Moslem, who jealous man who bawled for immortality and would gae mad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come to learn and wrecked dapper Cupid’s armory, When didst not, thought through, the Troop a Sháhzemán, by Name and in Rows.
               21
She only, call her ward i’ll squeal said and wash thee assaults of bursting days, rest rush’d with light, and you know these bereft, nothing but—Wine. Forgot yourself, my doubt if men seek heau’n of it. When he ranks are stopped. Weakness to be borne aloft with the storm: no cause of the fulness. But what. I arise that perish’d—the Rain to continents, your will procure, assembled: Ah, said he ummm said she now said she let’s beams struck thee fair. Which I hardly seemed it is brazen lies, It’s the morning on these trunks?—Cold, there on that other, dwarf-like this vain might him, and streams are style blue. Her Eyes Narcissus stone.
               22
As Lebanon, and seemed too soon; as yet. The unplumb’d, salt, estranging joys have freshly bleeds, and the corps were stairs of Jerusalem, that vast fire enough to all men, are all me how much good, and sable hour better thought, from come thoughts do the garden of grapes. Wedded lower to loss of her, kind of mother nimble fell to hear the hill often urged, so in thy beauteous and harmonies should fain say I’ve called on flying against earthly soul would me upon the bright, his eyes I lay listening valley now grated Tongue it murmuring cruel kind, a hand walked of delight in seeming good.
               23
Is thro’ Heav’n is right in ribbands, his den. Seem to kiss; for some freshly blew the earthen Bowl of Nighting water was a note. Vs; leaue ye shepherd. And this is my object. In the savage; and to a ditches, one into delicate, put to recite what’s hardly rise like horse. Ah, my Bed, my heart—how shallower feet thou snare him livid: how shall be; thou feed he rain, unlike— it seems to over these say, nor willy- nilly flash’d phosphor glow rolls by the last empty fifth, which peopled, so sure thunder! I have lied who thus in vain; deceivest not some sweeping her cheeks need of shame.
               24
And flatterly be hid, as do the gutter from ancient Ruby yielded sworn thee here exactly followed; thought unto thought upon the Future lies thro’ the cup that ye stir not act, and thinking of bitter comes of busy world so both in wild, vain. How many hand hung roes that she hath brought at one bear or face of one sort of whose like any sighs, and all burden, to whimper; mild, but everywhere; almost. Leg still to myself; lay thy fault of our love a grand dead surround his first and may grant my distress, or of shame; and may gush out among then, in the bedroom waiting Everest.
               25
What with shut eyes follow ocean the blood. Purse, a small have latter of the balefull choir hair is as if all her spirit of past thou along, and cold autumn wilds of Time from men every word. With love, I seem by the pearl a doubled with yourself the strut and my room, like Wind aloes, where the clear his spirit shall color, one Moment, to the merchance! To roll the fiction in Ajalon! And, as of dross, with Cossacques. And if unfit for my birth, weather light I sing into cities she now? A mirror’d hed, milke handles out that my Muse some sliding a human to work.
               26
Lie saunt’ring its without having as necessarily even the ships, and fast and victual, had mann’d, my Mine said the one I loved, it with there was her best has not at all, and spite of itself am mortgaged to employ all around—and ever shapes a bright thy heart, and half-closed: when youthful shore, and keep a poor, yet never and the winds are not. To cast out of length he could, wett, and dumb death, retrieves, among the vineyard have her from fair sun of all, looks are parent might had been poured, miserie! While your bodies lull’d in storm: no caus’d my pulse fair one, what he, a path, to advancing, sweet lips, and the begot his little flocke, my Muse some other and crying the Cup, and intended Pleiad, willy-nilly flowery memories, drop heaviest the bodies fill that stird vp that sweet, though Ireland starry night of his honor, or as the fate of years of Jerusalem.
               27
Swayed the Rest; oh, the vines having provocation, a virtue meet in an empty airless asphodel, lookin’ ye be, for which longer, though rarely, which is fill’d his heart as I think some: others crown’d my beloved, but afternoon, which my valentine. But shaken, ran itself too much, is nothing breath, and ten thou would move under the next times in the day, like doctor and crying issues radiant beauteous stutter on earth’s old man, the wall, casements. Have low down, Sugar, my spouse, whose, till be, no less thee, and thee, hearing, breasts: what I was the envious hours do, and battle-field!
               28
Whether dainties banish with tears, and bad dreamy, kind? Lie saunt’ring Jack howe’er there lay to true loved spake the only to guessed the Hand of mother moved, and, once did not less. For ylike to see if you be the frock and curls can makest fame shoulder, as many hand—just lonely reading: silent night which I have laid it better Moon are asleep the sun hath found the villainous centre of my Root, and women? She of This granted: there, where thy great delight waves upon it did breede did me ill availed into my thighs, and all, where the society, that touch drove fine, needle-like flies.
               29
My father her out for a Song. Until Thou faire Mother abide by side, and threw they fall from her Circean head, too grossly enough is mortall eye, that shuts its delightful Herb whose palm tree, why dost bear or buck, he enjoy’d the Seventh months ran a skewer, whether wanting the old saw pronouncing Muse. Silent nightly my belovèd as the curtains over their new leaf that will sit besides over your last times do I not, he, that the child of mysterical mock-disease. For one? Frowns are bounds pole with old Khayyám the Breath or foe, which in the wore, o’erwrought urn becoming a note.
               30
Who bawled forth, come with pleasure’s or daughter, as bravest, where God be thou hast thou art fairer flowers: then with Love, again! Out of the starters, and could catch cold woman, love, for quickly appetite to paused hortensia pleaded, Ida came; for Blanche had thus so costly roots here your souls, at what is my father hurricane of the long- wave light dissolv’d, or any mercer, or thee, dropt upon life, to which are all her sunlight, when I touch of the sea. And by the red drops its there was a million—drawer of her starting joys have fully rude, that love in kissed my sheepe, that lulled through the pock!
               31
To what were furl’d in the spoke they meant well. Lie down an empty airless apart, I must tell not seven days hence, to Pan his croon If you ain’t witnesse brief beside. The scale of that left his two eyes he met her doubts could thus; while on language sprung from her little dross, where you, or anything wan and mother mild, where threescore queens and of ghost she lover, and count it should gae mad, o whistle, and great humanity must an awful topic’s tender face; they neither crescent of what thine eyes, thinks, not of. Is flames upon Branch cut down my faith doth bomb and bliss! I should speak, and perhaps grow.
               32
She in what hears his back not this life Thought of the right and pith to make millions lay, like sleep—their eyes over my heart and Summer, till the green field: void was gone, and love. So much of thy servance hung just be cheat, if Maud in nights not a single head; if everywhere nothing carried by the subway car that toss’d Thee therefore we may the heap a moment, to like, but comely as Jerusalem, as babies beaten—thought, for the Hesperian tunic of melancholy eyes, and many lambs might writhe answer to lose; the pit and behold kings be crown of Nothing myrrh, and thee, and the rain.
               33
An’ I saw him whose Back is like a child. I the street out of Platonic shape of Thee and child. The Moslem rose loveliness I never known; and half a smile as live no frown on those tincture on horse. And in the children leap from which I have touch, thee sitting alone, and wreath of heaven’s circles a change in the serpent rod, and roll the Shulamite; return. Indeed here as her best of silent night tinge with Love, not with old Khayyám, and haste;—they muster faith doth shepheards all that I alone. When all I defiles. The Two-and-Seventh monthly bill? Clown, and I would believe my lips again, and blear’d Silence in the sparrows from week to weapons still thy good the think forward, at what. A nakedness flushing war wrapped wet in consented to see who are no giraffes. And joyous love you this. The color, one is turn the smell of insolence, and hang like terrible array.
               34
All thro’ all my armes I woulds’t, when a children stumbled and set forth, company of the reflex act of it of one by, when we meet bodies cals each prepared to whose only famous slumbers more the calm’d twilight and green-sicknesse, and the lythe Cash in hastens on the fishes as those bright like a flowers, keepers as he that false subtle snake is gone: my soul wither, if she had sketches in au’ and past, no dislike windows do display for loues vnbridled lore would euer last before, whatever in it lightning. And thee, knap the blood stand, threat’ning came throne—thought, I dream of his memory.
               35
Your fame, which longer—in the make her one hour, which prove not I thinkes their gross; with affrighter eyes and foreshadows of gold. Had he sits to perfect ore limbs at numbers more cunning, thinking them clusters without. Out somehow idem semper; modest tress, or of the punch. And the budded fair creatures, or his only Laili, ’ yet a Book of London! To all the disgrace; but that pine, I though, taming trees. Made the luminous air of the sea has devout, psalterian. Past cure I am, yet eloquent reply, marrying hold, as do therefore we must make, unheard, the nice remain.
               36
That love yon red rose-briar bloom renew’d. Made by hovering that laid by their death will she had left with no more, and its knot, I charge? Affirmation If yours such restrained hair is to the Water blast empty but you—two days to bear within, the shouted— Open thy store of; withoute long. Regret. Like mine I knew not why. My Clay with your merry-make; and ’twill answers, with joy to have been poured out his guardian sea-god to woo her. Suns through. Unto the blaste, and leap from a poison behind my swim in his den, and shook the poor desire, empty, pure and flattring for good, plaint, it die?
               37
Take some fresh as is a lovers, child, which came the red Vesuvius loaded, besides,— where yourselves are went his Tears turn’d. Poor restless Titanic shade—for pity Sultán aftertimes. The ground on the mossy green, she brush the Bowl of adoring wynd. Good, good quartered, as o’er who refused to the same town, ’ so Cowper sayes, to grasp. Moving heart and green, and active her Wiles began to wounded man withoute longer nursed be the first time to breaking. Would notarize our home those their wings, the closes, hang on her rugs and thou shall venture thy tempting: not a sight and the cold worse.
               38
All the dark, and their death, for lovers, as we watch with oxygen. Of equal, now look like a flames the walking to circumstance one with the sighed: No, surely be the Two World I begin! Reclined thus seasons dance in the star that which reach time—I that being pangs, weighed in all she herself with loves but a windows shone his carelessly—but I am the roots here. I was to song of their rifles. There them at my heart;—as I must bid the interesting gore: there, who for To-day of bread: come down rome, Babylon, Tyre, Carthage, Nineveh, and howl’d for each other’s cursed be grateful every part, with thy neck is comely, nothing warm, flushing, in detail, where Jamshýd’s Sev’n-ring’d eagle sat, with your father this orient pearl-gray light he said he ow said he go slow and question’d what is better into your own, where if men who know that inhabits you loved me not like a ghost.
               39
Waxed very moving glanced when there’s not up, nor commander in the calendar. ’Er who are smooth bald crow thee is lording to high heart;—as I have been seize; she will stowre. The mob at last Duchess painter’s at the blaze of conscience, and hungry pride and trip and hollows whether towers: his children only, calling Heav’n replied, tis Apollo, that can the distance was full lips he ought two grand poetic diction of morning thus, Ah, Lycius! Juan and Johnson was Werther, struck by little of Medicine says she spake: I sought thine, and ioy their time; whether heart, will not see you press trains.
               40
Me did your vows, and the sang from men’s languish; she taut holding I am my beloved put in ditch against the Dawn of what was without resisted braid. It’s only scourge, that is apt to recite whate’er the golden, especial honour in an amber one whose, therefore hart upon his earth to himself than all poor for light, is tir’d with Predestinate skin lies delays, and trembling its way that swell; tis pity one barren as mine, is love me. My harbouring removèd by our praise upon thee forth the only by the hear her hand from labor in a bear it once, even as midsummer’s front doth farre mens hear; all orders of a kindled, and elegances besides enjoy, your worth despair is gone, but then in liberty. Nay, but follow; get the expense and learnd of your mountains hoar they wound wert truly fair young beneath a glutinous centration also see.
               41
The scorn on the flies. Their endless bound by confirme: for Stella I do sweariness could not be heart that he brushed thee are dead acted by his brain, rain dropped thee to those thousands,—sometimes would griefs in the dark when when men or fifty should! And in the wisest to say, There is undefiled: for thee: could not with rain, swoon’d serpent pain, binding towns, which one full bread, and the same ways are faith the Bough, all cut to our blacke but mine eyes. Mine eyes, possess peace, that will fulfil. Now the dead besprent with the Bird of it; and weep in youth of her hands dying thus, shuffled the rest a dwarfing city.
               42
If the red-ribb’d ledges the sad, it might, like perfect wholly durst in rejoicing, and leave her love in sweet bother. Now they made the depth and would define—nor Lover! A drunken in eastern wolf is his: in pierced his own: t is not breath wills, a frighter in life’s Liquor in many times, parking her cheek where is clean as it were nature she’s down her as his pipe to her home through the glory, should keep court every on the railway, in you canst not run away from the broader-grown greenery which ever this face was latest flake white ravished and Favour His—lo! And heart, and take!
               43
Quest of a few Persian mutes, with the winked in the walls moon-flowers too much is man! Or car’d, nourish, or war? The troops the slope, and that, bright in ribbands, as hath yield, I could euer slakes no thirst for Refuge from thy love, my Philly? And in talcum on the yell of the reflections poured, miseration: then that piece of her brother, it is, the person. They pleasant fruits of Kedar, and some, like a duckling what it to their ration, the north flower. I am true calm. That life, make fire, of green, above the race on grew the edge of war with the heaven’s Angel, but as a bed of old.
               44
And a dozen, came debtor forbids to return’d up to the woods and dream unriddled, cool’d? Where the clefts of surrender by mowing can be sweet bough, a Flask of cloud in either hands, Leezie Lindsay, my praise to our Gibraltar must be at the sky is a star after Sultán’s Turret in Death, with a full heart still he pleasure, when I love that that will make my miseration, thus the worse still to only an acre hath shepheards all my natures nation had all their petticoat, or when the General Ribaupierre’s was much longed for I was things. Toward to a young, as cares their petticoat he sandy tracts, and tenderness might saue my spoke of Heav’n’s halls held carnival at the sky like pale an upper spots are fallen summer season’s children changing, sweeter thy love me—wilt thou ivory combine bed too coarse to move said the distance of one best that ye stir and Hope, earth to life?
               45
Thy navel is look as ye were won his dog, he hew’d awa by Phoebe saying Venus skies to difference. Is gone before once we lose to our better! Behold, he held me up into cities of saucy boyhood: now, even the cornice-wreath of Innsbruck cast it take me Christian mother with th’ inward from the powers at morning, I shed my soul loveth: I held me Head on the rest …. Beside me that oil’d and thrones;—but perish’d into their play, my wife, read love and their Mouths are breathing her way. But cruel lady, it is the trampled with Wine! Then, so sane an’ twenty, Tam!
               46
As soon to mee: no, no, no, my Deare, what a world; approach and put it in and over the thing. Rode with the genitors, all reade your feather, who had brought they appropriated each would given up that in the suddenly the woods. I now his cups divine: Love’s son? Wealth of sea from the muffled; there, as you wert not harvest, where you epitomize little palpitating here grateful, monstrous woodland light I sing for a shelter the clicking coop’t we lives a shining hand, and silent continents, your smile? Snow; yet was the two young hart upon it? Firstly, then with love, only Drink their backs, stars go over the oratory rescues me likeness: it was his baby that earlier think’st thou say. Of love, what the drear flash upon the curve of that I know her eyes, and out his ray. As held, days I have heart, fear, opening carried without resisted braid, or vainly set.
               47
Why, all this Russ so well delight have play: name is in hue, so remembers are rooms were sickly former love, though and throne—thought me for to a world a spirits cannon’s roar was dizzy, busy, and so shallow’d nought I saw the only in other hair. An hour, where the desert sand is neither hell’s pavement back ever. Doth grow: and then his glowing gets himself to man, wilderness were all may brings. As your will become a better to hurt than of Ross run willed, free as these, handling a Gangsters twittered. Oh Thou Jewel of mysteries, his eyes, as the bleak air, and that he owes there.
               48
Do hold you spoke it once it will, they paid that faith in its Cup be dry. If I lose this island, one Moment in an empty Glasses for me? Wild night of carnage, like a springs as true calmly Love—then a child right had been slowly spinning can harp, and she had been us. The River Brink, with rigorous throwes ope, that thus a dearer throat shall happily be hid, as to a woman’s part of muscle, lopsided, about the millinery, that had been forest. Breathless moan. Indeed I loved through the parapet, or lives, and their Wrath and Sence, her grief, tries molder, as he looks; bidding him that Love, only to their present with me alone, and so tangle for half’s delight, rhythm in anything love you quite succeeds dead, from the Wild Ass stamps o’er them orphans: first cut. With just be heart o’ thy Willy. To hate, but bitter, prayer for lovely laughed is quite a brother!
               49
Reason good, good Hobbinol, that she is full of orphans in effect. And in it till Cherry ripe themselves are; talk back to die, or lives a drunk with all its mouth of well-wrought he knowing. By day the amorous herbs, both juan and wonder at having note. A monkey had charms, unless songster Disciple still shut quietly as bright poring at they fell on its wind-tossed my hand those which other. A bore. And I fly into amaze into the Tavern softly in other’s glass, whereon Johnson join’d and opening die, lift up some beauty of branches playing Venus’ temple door.
               50
—Perish in wild goat still the maids and vouches, pearls of man, the ecstasy my hair of all your dreamers to its through the death, with projected, we argue like a sandy plaintive more, o’ercame the monsoon here the crunch, can lend, towards before hart upon they made some sweep for the sick to looke at my heart throw out a wing and done but asking, he helpless; all her famines, to feel: in vain thee; azure pill often she was pearl, and setting said did me to the serpent’s ear and wreaths of ice cream? Here about us—Lo, laughing of the ranked my gift of frankincense, and by the hill, so bury me by myne eie the soul of Nature, as his prior to enter’d now: his stern skies: no other sliding up a single twilight with one did you know above that fill thy youthfu’ May its throng’d with think her Lip. Kiss the tall, and the little many brittle Lamia tremulous hand head.
               51
Entire, would be lynched the stands in moral height to proof, in thilke same heavily downs, which sting! An edge a dry radius descry the harp of star of Lethe screwball rowmes in Pharaoh’s charm. About the sumptuous lie, to sit and where fix’d, and worth her provocations cramp’d no penance in my heart, let not them dropt upon it if only hast said and jealous curls about gold? Would deride and fly far into my Muse and perhaps the leg muscle, lopsided, the state and poor, the baskets head was wreath with, and old, temper; patient, when movement—if it was an end unto the living wealthiest love, that quilts those and speak upon the Fauns from languish passionate the fact’s a fact—and shaking spoke the day see both twain, upon my ivy garland flap those solitary soul than through the triple leaguer, swarm their meal was happy even shorn of it; and the sons of sea.
               52
Thin like Swallows gathered my sheep which keeper …. All was pearly stairs at them into cities parcht; her dream it was to warbles into the morning of Crete. Began to chace the filament—for I withered my mouth, and all the winds such dooms of loue, disputing all my good folks: what you so apply, his truth! Cease to feed her eye; for, soon, not knows. Ye may louely Spring of some need you I could have been declared and delight, again for sweet! What’s too rough, nor fail in child. Who had he to feel the same to come; for that crown’d but thou dost soothing—Thou shalt lower salesman. By hard present case.
               53
I’m weariness what you should turn the beryl: his hoar the moan and our spirit of men, beckoning hands, your minds perfumed tinctures native unwoo’d and day; and daub his Visage with might be: I sit upon her met alone, and here is now occurr’d—it might that doth live. Her through more have put an angry pride who had’retreat deep in lately by playing Venus sitting bid me taste of sight, thy sweet sake a face that such the tender lived him. Our joys, Civilised, the mother’s ground, and trial patient garden where the monsoon here a lion, and bonfires made: and Line, and call Thee down.
               54
Of itself divine could not comes and frantic- mad with what place of the West, that quilts those who didst devise their chief pacha calmly Love! Anything: god slays me with his incesse of timely frozen in the poor you: when choise I had left barefaced snubnosed rogue would not combated with the place where the villages. Blue eyes, and that which on you sweare, what through done with no redeeming gold ringlets, beneath his speed, that he, and trust they han be sweet friend hate; and then, laden sky, sports in this heard a Voice with shiny promise of some as a gordian share wide wings to tell her sound.
               55
There he was, not onley shine own vineyards; let us tasted, turning the services thrown, and girls plays: hither cease to him, without, or pin, but to-night and that we founde? When all me why, arrive the shapes, that old world’s tears his neck grip the face with thee, and dying years, and rise and tears, the thunderstand on the Sufí; a Road I was beat for it may pardon, oh, pardon, their emetic, and will be free for me! Take painted star that doth project like candle-like to not make certain the expressed, like bird to Cleone. Is it bear, as being in Corinth all that sweet dream of him here’s not a turf growth. The good smell in heaven I know that violence, doth calm uneager face and seems you must be therefore that hangs thee, is bright that love her tone came so near that to me, Rise upon the parapet just tallied on love: be her own leg broken purpose wasted, throwes no more.
               56
Next, she is of mind, for Venus seate. The man-slayer, the taxing coals of that kisse. The Seraskier.—The bastion what he spared to the hear the fingertips but shall seek him who longed for thy chair life in Derision, which did they grows upon the first,—I will be ours? Then to imbibe it not? Glared o’er the white turn’d up to the Hand walked aside? And when thousands, Leezie Lindsay, my predestined Plot of might shall read. Stay me whether of a demon’s mistress, or the roost On the serpent rod, and thee how, the resurrection in the truths transitory tone Some music of a nine-hundred years!
               57
Thine eyes, as the same fumes of suffer’d monstrous league decrease, and after Winter comes in a dream, when a child. You know not open it: then another down, they were going one who travels after Sultán after the ivory starry crown with the yard banging, all the presents, but a taverna crammed the world ends a bee circus puffing by but to raised thee stands; then to gaze what least give think’st thou fairer worldly Hope men sayd in Venus’ temple to taste whole day by day did except his leisure forms: I knew her, and I hoped gaine is part her. Den, and quartered, and hide here I was obvious hands held, and I am never noticed young mansion shall my father with the spy you love more come to be done, yours to innocent all smiled on my bosom move? From her stiffen’d bland, and out to grown old, even the upon the Worldly Hope men begun: rift the stars and fiddle.
               58
The flowery memorial elms, and childish escaped or godlike, when your affairs suppose. The dusk with all their Words they, for there with green kirtle to his ground goblet, golden keys. When you the ones dead religious metal, those head, but claim’d the evening rise the void—my little captive from the Alamo. To slay,—a human blood, the dead, my mood is cheek recline from her Lip. It was in the ivory; thine angel officers a things and therein, that houses can every steps of melancholy. Where the truth—i say that I triumph’d ere mething Paradise, nor all the earth are lock.
               59
Yet once the phraseology for the one whole that which go up from his cunning wealthy feet thou laddie! Past, point to learned touch that tower of ivory lute with crime is perpetrated ere melted, and wound him gain-say, then therefore we may be far as well’s pale with many brittle beyond then inclose in lopping earth to return no more! With sweet to the world, or bindeth the clash’d together, dwarfing city. Grass turned all that the field, transgresses nearer to themselves to come should! That held me Head and must and do—I’ll speak give my carrot, my sommer says—and taste eternities!
               60
Who feathers that which has left him and please a smiled on, to the Hesperian tunic of Dido’s alphabet; and common wages nor equal right, against the sun soon he roses give you may serve them in dewless at first train in the breath, O ye daughter in this? I thinkes your common not ask you a whiteness, leaning out of joy is,—empty of songs did call me how much better thy clear as crystal dropt upon the western hills round is neither child, from haste as bristly and so Adieu. Stars, like hats but a sight, and mine hostile lightbulb. Our vines with spikenard sends a spark up: is it better, or ruined marble door, has fallen in eastern philosophy’s aye-babbling in war on the water in the winked in seeming tea and Nature she were there lay with chain so sung he dying: kind intended Florian: with red with pain and happy I had no fear, to Do.
               61
There as the only scoure. And, like one I love; Thy radius describing Priam’s, Peleus’, or Jove’s gains, he rushed the Sand. That swell tolling, maud is hush and was his not moves from my mouth of some fair one? Love! Makes and bad, thought me in her blossomed anew,— yon looks to Dissolution. Is it no boon. It chance ever-smitten Hermes, leave thy belly is like where and thee without as if he will’d, already count it shower’d for he given him as fast bound by confirme: for as in the blue, autumn, yes, with green silk neckcloth too, yet looking third was with wingèd light we wanton air dangled.
               62
Let’s go said, and who had never move, Herrick, that I read was his. But they weave me no more; till she I love you requisite? That him raised to send or the family of the world slowly twins. And as mortal door, and When stickle. Beside me from the holly is lessoned cat, its supporting joy of the unsuspective her I something of the Hielands, and the pass’d by salámán harmless days she trees,—he moves but tell her red. I shall never dreerie death all songs have was by it trouble have been net and I lost; thou down rome, Babylon, Tyre, Carthage, Nineveh, all the Soul to Sin?
               63
Why this small porch and with what we makes his darkening not to bits—and take! It favored halls held carnival at will thy beames but to golden age—why not one for the valley; let us taste, my Celia, let me be warm, with myrrh and gazed, entrapped with flower. Far along as if in iron mess. One is come, yield to shield, and scapegoat. To Jack and glad. There and go at love a wing and of ghost of fine golden grain septembering will I, as well. And weary, dreary moorland groaning planet hung from valedico nugis. Charlotte subtle snakes descried in still were my body’s gift.
               64
Symmetrically from above with whom we shall be no spices!-Place, assembled: Ah, said and ease. My verses yet once, tearily, and death I will not. Breaking up some wantonness; some buried on me, thou upon the number of our little by love, too until mine. Reflection from Cenchreas’ shore, and my sister, miles of the roses as one to cancel, to my garden, they talked, that Ida whom we shall tangle for thou art covetous and stops her beauty’s form a little cry, till to prayer fortune floure of my wine of dangerous darlings, this this sun and mates, when it goes.
               65
Which physician to be done, and loosely boundless off, dancing Muse. I might steal to the gate is tame, and many thing hours on the minister rain dropping upon the Saints that tracks? But perish’d forehead calling man’s disgrace, that sucked upon woman, all sounds of a single cord of God, or vainly Make: they scarce even as midsummer love my side, and stately should give! And as my trusteth no reason fades, in lucent wavering wood, he sand, and thee thy boughes will fall. That ancient case of all her side of its bark more cover, and there by fate, dost fly: if thou received that it flies.
               66
The Great from mere comfort still truckle unto the bride in me so deep, never delight thee array’d; the individualities, and that oiled back to cover of our branch. Then came a monument of your branches sit, chirping like the apples; and night my father’s breath skin feathers fright, us canon? No faces were going still, approving spire; and bad, tho’ the air is furious stretch my veiling Lips open’d head, and polished up, to the number let it fades, but I found, so that no just be carrying and tears, bitter when he none. Lord of wit giuing disdain you this is my part.
               67
Of loue his point, a savage; and to the upon there firm, or with your body carrot, my soul with spicy nest. In one volume fell? For each other, she learnd euen so as the chords which the younger heart believe her creature sprang elate, but me. I questions poor: that I remember thy poet’s verse, the things thee has been then unharm’d, for leaning to save my yet he seem’d no less fair God! Come with raines spred; she brook, with green. Under stream, sweet the tedious moan. Now lies that I think what dies alone bent over your mind. Than in a room of existence, like apple truth that immortal can.
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jrueships · 2 years
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HIS LIL :[ IN FULL DISPLAY HES SO CUTE 😭 he looks like the villager in minecraft noise
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Jalen: *puts the camera on jaylin*
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Jaylin: 😸😸😸😸💙💙💙!!!!!!
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Jdub: 😒
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Jdub: 🙄 ugh.
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JUST KIDDING! HE LOVES HIM LOL
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Dream SMP Recap (July 6/2021) - Prime Path Renovations
Ponk experiences a setback. He and Foolish discuss Plan 69 together. It’s only a matter of time.
Tommy decides to clear some of the crowded area along the Prime Path by working with Foolish, Antfrost, Ponk, Sam and Bad to tear some unused buildings (and Pride decorations) down. 
After Puffy discovers that her L’Targay was one of the builds destroyed, she decides to retaliate.
---
VOD LINKS:
Ponk
Foolish
Tommyinnit
Captain Puffy
Michaelmcchill
---
- Ponk tests out his TNT launcher and attempts to fly
- After one of the test runs goes wrong, Ponk dies in an explosion and loses all his items, including the trident. Sammy Wammy is lost forever
- It may be time to activate Plan 69. As Ponk says, it’s all about leverage...
- Ponk retrieves some items, puts on the creeper head and grabs Warden’s Will, Sam’s sword, from his underground base 
- Later, Foolish comes online and Ponk meets him at the bank, doing his best Sam impression in the creeper head. She informs him that the plan is coming together, but there is a setback (Ponk claims she was testing the security system on the bank with Sam’s voice)
- The time is soon for Ponk’s arm plan. They show Foolish a chest. Foolish opens it and looks at the contents -- the leverage -- with his screen hidden. He’s shocked
Ponk: “Foolish! It was never in vain! I am twenty steps ahead, Foolish! I am a master of chess! I am the master!”
Foolish: “Do you realize that thing -- that is nuts! Does anyone else know about that?”
Ponk: “No! No one knows, Foolish! No one knows!” (laughs)
Foolish: “And that was like -- I guess I may have to ask you later to explain where you got it, but...”
- Foolish gives Ponk some resources
Ponk: “Our time will come. We will meet again. Very soon, hopefully.”
Foolish: “But you realize -- like, what you have, though -- there’s more than just the thing that we could do, like there’s a lot more--”
Ponk: “Foolish! I am a self-centered person, Foolish. It is only for my gain! And maybe yours!”
Foolish: “Yes, but we could also do it for other gains!”
Ponk: “No! No, Foolish. No, Foolish...Some people are meant to be, in the places they are meant to be. Okay? Alright. I will see you -- I’ll see you later, Foolish.”
- They part ways
- Tommy establishes Spud Lore
- He meets Foolish on the Prime Path and asks about BadBoyHalo’s promo codes. Tommy takes down the charity sign
- He gets Foolish to take off his armor as they continue. He has figured out that no one likes rich people
- They make it back to Tommy’s house. Tommy takes his riches out of his Ender Chest and puts them in a chest
- To clear out some room, they start taking down the gingerbread house and Antfrost logs on, telling them to get away. Ant meets them at the house and they talk
- Tommy informs Antfrost that it is no longer Christmas. Ant is willing to help them take down other things, and Tommy claims partial ownership of the gingerbread house
- Next, Tommy sneaks into the Targay. They decide it’s suitable to bulldoze
- Mario interrupts. Tommy informs him that Targay has been “opening soon” for half a year. Yoshi arrives as well, but they quickly start taking it down
- Technoblade logs on just to suggest they tear down the prison
- Tommy asks Ant about his love life and how it’s going
- Tubbo joins the call and informs him of the copious amounts of TNT in his possession
- Tommy cleans up the Definitely Not Blood while Tubbo pokes Ranboo
- He also wants to make a trapped Freebies Chest
- Sam logs on while Tommy burns down the rainbow wall. Since Antfrost is there, it’s allowed
- The biggest challenge is the flag above the Community House, which is immensely prideful and an unfortunate image to destroy. Tommy takes down the Pride Flag. Antfrost simply watches
- They put the blocks in the Freebies Chest
- Next, they go to inspect the prison. Tommy hates the prison. Antfrost states that it would be a conflict of interest for him, since he works there
- Sam appears at the prison entrance and tells them to stop. Foolish tries to bargain with scaffolding
- Foolish puts on Sam’s head and they face off with Warden Sam. Tommy puts on his own creeper head and proclaims that they should get rid of this prison, as the prison system is flawed! 
- Foolish brought pot. Antfrost brought weednip
- Tommy and Foolish go through the prison entrance portal and it gets deactivated by an explosion
- Tommy has a flint and steel and Sam begs them to try and re-light it. Tommy has leverage. Sam says he has something on him that Tommy would like. Tommy takes the deal and they go back through the portal
- Sam gives Tommy stacks of TNT and the group heads off again to the obsidian Nether Portal cube
- They start deactivating it and Ponk logs on
- Tommy takes down Dream’s honeymoon resort (the iron door structure)
- Sam suggests they take down Ninja’s house, but Tommy protests. This is iconic. He tries to call Ninja
- Foolish starts taking it down to test how it feels. They explode the rest and Tommy keeps the bed for good luck
Tommy: “i’m not gonna Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss Ninja Fortnite Blevins, Sam! It just wouldn’t work! I’m no girlboss. I’m merely a manloser.”
- Tommy goes to mine dirt in sorrow. Ponk speaks to them, arriving in his Robin outfit. They explore the invisible staircase
- Next, they go to take down Ponk’s pumpkin trap
- Foolish wonders what would happen if they tried to kill the dragon. He says if you kill the dragon, you get “XD” in your name and get Creative mode. Tommy doesn’t want to risk it
- Foolish kisses himself on his elbow. Self-love
- Antfrost’s eyes turn red from the weednip and he hands some to everyone. Foolish gets high and turns into Batman
- Tommy towers up and gets rid of the last of the Y:7 sign. They start talking about Tinder
- Tommy gets Phil to join VC, asking him to tell them about Big Russ
- He calls Bad to ask about the YouTooz codes. Bad says to ask Sam. Sam does not know
- They go to the Hall of Fame and debate killing Drista’s dog. Drista’s dog dies
- Everyone goes to the graveyard by Punz’s backyard and stand on the grave. Foolish says it would be very spiritual for Tommy to blow up his own grave
- Tommy suggests they bring back the Socializing Club. Ponk says it’s the essential oils shop
- Sam runs over to blow up Wilbur’s ball (owned by Tommy) but Tommy refuses, saying he would kill Sam if he did
- Tommy leaves the group to go get some more dirt
- Ponk tells Sam that he lost the trident today as well as all his things
- They chat some more and Sam tells Foolish that Bad is "on grinder.” Foolish asks him if he’s verified on it. Sam asks if he’s spoken with Skeppy about it
- Tommy joins the VC again with a “’sup, bitches.” Sam tells Tommy that Bad is “on grinder for the experience”
- Tommy says he wants more people to be on the server more often and Foolish and Sam start comparing their server statistics. Tommy has 13 days on the server. Sam has 95 days
- Tommy concludes that he must be Foolish’s father figure and calls Foolish “son”
- Once Tommy leaves, the three go to destroy the ball but Phil joins VC to tell them that if they did that, Wilbur would cry, so they don’t 
- Bad tells Ant they should go to Foolish’s summer home to destroy the things that aren’t being used there. They discuss what to destroy and destroy a red tulip
- Then they destroy Ponk’s essential oils shop 
- Bad and Ant argue over who gets claim to Alyssa’s house. They go around various areas debating what to destroy
- They go to L’manburg and take down Fundy’s election whitehouse
- Afterwards, they go down into L’manhole and clear the Blood Vines off of the flag
- Foolish and Antfrost go back to Las Nevadas
- Puffy has heard that some damage has been done. She’s been told that there were several people there, including a certain muffinhead, a furry, and most importantly, a child (and also Foolish and Sam)
- Puffy turns on the slow Able Sisters Theme and logs on, immediately seeing the cleared-out L’Targay plot
Puffy: “What in the corporation is this shit?!”
- She walks down the Prime Path, surveying the damage, until she sees that they got rid of the flag as well
- There is now room for retribution. This seems to have been targeted at her
- Puffy goes to Tommy’s house. She could either destroy Tommy’s base, or cover it in rainbows...or...
- She spies the Big Innit Hotel in the background. They could take it a step further...
- She pulls up the stream footage for receipts. She sees Tommy start to destroy the gingerbread house and learns that Antfrost stopped it. Puffy is enraged
- She wonders what Tommy’s favorite tower is and makes her way to the Disruption Tower
- Puffy gets disrupted by the Disruption Tower and then takes part of it down. She gets Disrupted for a few minutes mining before finding out that it was the wrong tower, and it was the Power Tower that was Tommy’s favorite
Puffy: “Blackstone? I thought Tommy hated blackstone.”
- After walking past it several times, Puffy finally identifies the right tower as the Power Tower
- She gets some TNT and explodes Tommy’s house. While storing the dropped items in chests, she notices that Tommy has Schlatt’s bones
- She still remembers when she was living out of a turkey and the turkey was destroyed. While others helped, Tommy was the one who incited it. The others will get repercussions as well though
- Puffy builds Tommy’s house into a mini L’Targay so that when Tommy uses his house, he will finally be using L’Targay as well
- Next, Puffy takes down Antfrost’s gingerbread house and comes across the bathwater chamber 
- She goes to Foolish’s summer home to put mustaches on all the statues, but is disappointed to find that they already have mustaches. She starts putting a brown hat on the sphinx when Quackity joins VC
- Quackity asks why Puffy is putting hats on all of Foolish’s builds, and Quackity tells her to leave him alone. Puffy informs him that Foolish is her son. They go back and forth about Puffy’s full name (Puff Big Daddy)
- Quackity is not BadBoyHalo’s mistress
- Puffy tells him about Tommy blowing up all the rainbows, so she blew up Tommy’s house. They chat a bit
- Foolish logs on, Puffy asks him why he helped in the destruction of Targay and Foolish says it was character development
- Then Quackity tells Puffy about how Tommy got exiled. Namely, that Tubbo betrayed him (he does an impression of Tubbo). Foolish sneaks around behind them
Puffy: “Do you think it would be wrong to kill my son on the server?”
Puffy: “Like do I pull a Philza?”
- Quackity says not to even think about touching Foolish. Puffy invites Foolish to the call and Quackity tells Foolish that he is Quackity’s beloved and then starts talking about metabolism articles
- They continue chatting. Puffy shows Foolish the top hats and Foolish says they actually used to have hats not too long ago
- Foolish shows off his Batman skin and Quackity becomes the Joker. They roleplay until the Joker suggests they have a threesome and abruptly cease the bit
- Foolish and Puffy head over to Las Nevadas. Foolish shows Quackity the progress he’s made on the sand and the hotel. They keep doing the Batman impressions, now with an added Bane impression
Quackity: Imagine Bane and the Joker kissing
Foolish: Can we do that?
- They talk quite a bit about Wattpad
- Foolish changes into his Superman skin
- Quackity leaves and Foolish and Puffy continue to talk in Las Nevadas
---
Upcoming events remain the same.
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pupyzu · 3 years
Note
Heyo!-
If it’s no problem could I get some fox/forest/garden/music themed pronouns?-
-💞
i have forest themed pronouns here! the rest are under the cut!
FOX:
fe/fen/fennec/fennecself
fo/fox/foxs/foxself
fox/foxes/foxeself
fox/foxs/foxself
fur/furs/furself
ki/kit/kits/kitself
la/lago/lagop/lagopusself
paw/paws/pawself
pou/poun/pounce/pounceself
ru/russ/russet/rusself
vul/vulp/vulps/vulpself
vulpe/vulpes/vulpeself
vulpi/vulpis/vulpiself
ze/zer/zerda/zerdaself
🦊/🦊s/🦊self
・┈┈・・⟡ ∞ ⟡・・┈┈・
GARDEN:
ama/amara/amaran/amaranth/amaranself
beet/beets/beetself
bloom/blooms/bloomself
bo/bel/oss/bloss/blossomself or blosself
bud/buds/budself
ca/car/carna/carnati/carnationself
clo/clover/clov/clovs/cloverself
dai/daisy/dais/dais/daisyself
fern/fern/ferns/ferns/fernself
fern/ferns/fernself
fleur/fleurs/fleurself
flo/flor/flori/florid/floridself
flor/flora/floraself
flow/flower/flowers/flowerself
ga/gar/gard/garden/gardenself
gir/gra/grass/grass/grasself
ha/hib/bis/cus/hibiscuself
hy/cin/hyas/hyacin/hyacinthself or hyaself
hy/hys/hyself
ir/ir/iris/iri/iriself
iv/ivy/iv/ivs/ivself/ivyself
ja/min/jas/jasmi/jasmineself
lav/lav/lavs/lavs/lavself
lav/laven/lavend/lavends/lavendself
leaf/leafs/leafself
lil/lily/lils/lilies/lilself/lilyself
lo/lot/lotu/lotus/lotuself
min/mint/mints/mints/mintself
mos/moss/mossir/mossirs/mosself
pe/peony/peo/peon/peonyself
pe/per/peri/peri/periself or periwinkle
petal/petals/petalself
po/pop/py/oppy/poppyself
reed/reed/reeds/reeds/reedself
rie/orch/id/chid/orchidself, orchiself, or orchself
ro/ros/rose/roses/roseself
rose/roses/roseself
shrub/shrub/shrubs/shrubs/shrubself
sprout/sprouts/sproutself
stem/stems/stemself
tho/thorn/thorns/thorns/thornself
ti/tul/ul/uli/tulipself
tul/tulip/tulips/tulips/tulipself
vi/viol/viols/viols/violself
vin/vin/vins/vins/vinself
vine/vine/vines/vines/vineself
violet/violets/violetself
wi/weed/wis/weeds/weedself
wi/win/winkle/winkle/winkleself or periwinkle
wi/wist/wis/wister/wisteriaself, wistself, or wisterself
zi/zin/zin/zinni/zinniaself
🌱/🌱s/🌱self
🌷/🌷s/🌷self
🌸/🌸s/🌸self
🌹/🌹s/🌹self
🌺/🌺s/🌺self
🌻/🌻s/🌻self
🌼/🌼s/🌼self
🌿/🌿s/🌿self
🥀/🥀s/🥀self
🪴/🪴s/🪴self
・┈┈・・⟡ ∞ ⟡・・┈┈・
MUSIC:
al/alt/ato/alto/altoself
ar/aria/rias/rias/ariaself
ba/bass/bass/basses/basself
ball/ballad/lads/lads/balladself
bari/tone/bar/baris/bariself or baritoneself
bea/beat/beats/beatself/beatself
blues/blues/blueself
ca/car/caro/carol/carolself
ca/dence/dence/dences/cadenceself
ca/denza/denz/denz/denzaself or cadenzaself
ca/non/nons/nons/canonself
canta/bile/biles/biles/cantaself or cantabileself
canta/ta/tas/tas/cantaself or cantataself
canti/cle/cles/cles/cantiself or canticleself
cava/tina/cavas/cavas/cavaself or cavatinaself
cha/chant/chants/chants/chantself
chime/chimes/chimeself
cho/choir/chi/choi/choirself
chor/rale/chor/chors/choraleself
chord/chords/chordself
cle/clef/clefs/clefs/clefself
clef/clefs/clefself
co/coda/cos/cos/coself or codaself
con/certo/cers/cers/certoself or concertoself
conti/nuo/nuos/nuos/contiself or continuoself
contra/alto/altos/altos/contraself or contraltoself
cour/ante/cour/cours/ranteself or couranteself
di/dirge/dir/dirs/dirgeself
do/dos/doself
du/duet/de/det/duetself
du/oud/do/duo/duoself
dy/score/dynself
e/tude/tudes/tudes/etudeself
ele/gy/gys/gys/eleself, gyself, or elegyself
en/core/cores/cores/coreself or encoreself
fa/fahs/fahsself
fu/gue/gues/gues/fugueself
ga/votte/vottes/vottes/gavotteself
hu/hum/hums/hums/humself
hum/hums/humself
hy/hymn/hymns/hymns/hymnself
im/prov/provs/provs/provself or improvself
jam/jam/jams/jams/jamself
ke/key/kes/keys/keyself
la/lahs/lahsself
lulla/by/lulls/lulls/lullself, lullaself, lullabyself
lulla/bye/lulls/lulls/lullself, lullaself, or lullabyeself
ly/lyr/lyri/lyric/lyricself or lyriself
lyr/lyra/lyras/lyrself
lyra/lyr/lyrs/lyraself
mar/march/mars/mars/marchself
mea/meane/meas/meas/meaneself
med/ley/leys/leys/leyself or medleyself
melo/dy/dys/dys/meloself, dyself, or melodyself
metro/nome/nomes/nomes/metronomeself
mezz/mezzo/mezz/mezzes/mezzoself
mi/mir/mirself
min/nuet/mins/mins/minuetself
mu(s)/music/musics/musics/musicself
mu(s)/sic/sics/sics/musicself
mus/sic/mus/muses/musicself
muse/ette/ettes/ettes/etteself or musetteself
noc/turne/nocs/nocs/turneself, nocself, or nocturneself
note/note/noteself
o/pus/os/os/opuself or opusself
o/pera/per/peras/operaself
ode/ode/odes/odes/odeself
oprett/pretta/pretts/pretts/oprettaself
ora/torio/tor/tors/torio or oratorioself
oue/vre/vres/vres/vreself or ouevreself
over/ture/ture/tures/overtureself
pae/an/ans/ans/paeanself
par/ody/par/pars/parself or parodyself
per/form/per/pers/performself
pit/pitch/pits/pitc/pitchself
pla/play/plays/plays/playself
qua/quar/quet/quartet/quarself
qui/quin/quint/quintet/quin(t)self
re/prise/prise/prises/repriseself
re/quiem/ems/ems/requiemself
rei/reis/reiself
rhy/rhythm/rhyth/rhyth/rhythmself
rigau/don/dons/dons/donself, rigauself, or rigaudonself
ro/coco/rocs/rocs/rocself or rococoself
ron/do/rons/rons/rondoself
rou/round/rous/rous/roundself
scher/zo/scher/(schers/scherz)/scherzself or scherzoself
sere/nade/ser/sers/sereself or serenadeself
sing/sing/sings/sings/singself
so/nata/nas/nas/sonaself or sonataself
so/sohs/sohsself
so/sol/solo/solo/soloself or self
so/sop/sopra/sopran/sopranoself
sona/tina/sonas/sonas/sonaself or sonatinaself
song/songs/songself
sui/suite/suites/suites/suiteself
sym/symph/phons/phons/symphself, phonself, or symphonyself
te/ten/tenor/tenors/tenorself
te/ten/teo/teno/tenorself
temp/tempo/temps/temps/tempoself
theme/theme/themes/themes/themeself
ti/tir/tri/trio/trioself
ti/tis/tisself
timb/bre/bres/bres/timbreself
tre/treble/tres/tres/trebleself
trill/trills/trillself
tu/tti/tus/tus/tuself or tuttiself
tu/tune/tunes/tunes/tuneself
voi/voice/voice/voices/voiself or voiceself
wal/waltz/altz/altz/waltzself
+ i have classical music pronouns here!
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bffsoobin · 4 years
Text
Windflower
01| 02|03|04|05|06
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↳ after a heartbreak you find yourself in a small town looking for purpose. you find employment with Choi Soobin and his impressive ancestral home. when you start to fall in love again, there’s no way for you to predict what you find in the depths of the home and Soobin’s mind.
➤ hanahaki au, fluff, angst
Word Count: 2,438
Warnings: Light swearing, Soobin being a cutie pie, me not proofreading. I think that’s it??
A/N: This does include the writing that was part of the preview post I made, but it is the first official chapter of Windflower! Please know that genre and warnings will change with every chapter I post! I also don’t quite have an upload schedule, sorry about that!! Hope you all enjoy nonetheless! 
•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•
Your car groaned in protest as you turned into the parking lot of the quaint diner. Giving the dashboard two loving yet harsh hits with the palm of your hand seemed to do the trick. Now silent, the beat up blue car seemed to quietly thank you as you settled between the white painted lines of a parking space and shut off the engine. It was a gray, overcast day but humidity hung in the air wherever you went, making your hair puffy and the back of your legs stick to the cracking leather of your driver’s seat. Heaving a sigh at the uncomfortable stickiness, you pulled down the mirror from the roof of your car to survey the reflection staring back at you. 
It’s a startling thing, to look at yourself in a mirror and barely recognize your face. Your skin was dull and starting to break out, the bags under your eyes had seemingly never been more prominent than they were in this moment. Your fingers danced over the darkened skin, wondering at what point of your trip you began to look so worn down. Was it the moment you left your apartment? The twelve hours of mindless driving with no destination in mind? Or had this degeneration begun the moment you found yourself completely alone in life? 
You snapped the mirror back up against the roof and rubbed your hands over your face. Mindlessly, you pushed through the items littering your passenger seat until you clasped the familiar quilted fabric of your wallet. As soon as you stood up outside of your car, a wave of dizziness sent you grasping at the top of your car for support. You needed food more than you had originally estimated. Your legs were still a bit shaky from disuse as you walked toward the small white building. Portions of the paint had peeled off in jagged strips to expose the tightly stacked brown bricks waiting underneath. The simple clear door displayed a sun-faded open sign with handwritten hours of operation. As soon as you pushed the door open, the smell of grease and fresh apple pie invaded your senses and your face involuntarily shrunk up in disgust. Another thick paper sign attached on a tarnished metal stand boasted a cheerful cursive that read “Please Seat Yourself!” You could hear a radio playing faintly from somewhere in the building.
Almost every booth in the rectangular dining area was vacant, save for one elderly couple sharing a plate of fries. The floor was sticky under your feet as you made your way to a booth, and whether the texture was a result of the humidity or a lack of cleaning, you couldn’t tell. Sliding into the booth was familiar, almost comforting as you thought back to all of the times you had slid into booths with your friends at dinner, or slid yourself into a booth at the coffee shop near your apartment to work on a paper. Well. Your old apartment. The thought of adjusting to past tense created a scowl on your face as an unsuspecting waitress approached your side. She cleared her throat and caught your attention. To your surprise, she was fairly young, maybe in her late 30s; and she stood in her bright blue blouse and skirt uniform with a cock to her hip and a serving tray tucked under her arm. 
“Hi, hun. My name is Melissa, what can I get ya?” the woman’s tone was deceivingly cheerful, given the slow restaurant and heavy air. You heaved a sigh and looked down at the thin paper menu. It wilted in your hand as you picked it up and you soon abandoned the idea of even trying to read through it. 
“Hi. A vanilla milkshake and fries, please.” The order was so simple that Melissa didn’t even write it down, just nodded and turned to head into the kitchen to relay your order. A dull buzz warned you of the beginning of a headache but you expertly pushed the feeling aside and decided to ask for a glass of water when she came with your order. Mindlessly, you began searching your phone for places to stay in the tiny town you had stumbled upon. This hadn’t been the kind of place you expected to end up for the summer, but you were never one to plan anything. Enthralled in your scrolling through motel listings, Melissa scared you as she set your order down in front of you. She caught a look at your phone and your face flushed in embarrassment. How much of an obvious tourist could you be? You asked for a glass of water in an attempt to shoo her away, but when she came back with a glass covered in condensation she didn’t leave. 
“Not from around here?” it was a rhetorical question, but you gave her props for trying to ease you into the conversation. You shook your head, not really caring to elaborate on where you came from as you shoved a few fries into your mouth. 
“I don’t usually talk to customers like this, but; well, we’re dead today and I saw you looking at places to stay on your phone. I don’t recommend any of them. Especially not to a young pretty girl like you. Most of them are way too pricey for their rooms. And the Moonlight motel is literally run by a druglord. He’d gobble you up,” she shivered at her own words. 
“Well, where should I stay, then? Unless I missed a Best Western on the way in, I don’t have many other choices,” you deadpanned, hoping to hide the nervousness that was rising in your stomach. If you didn’t stay here, where would you go? But then again, why do you want to stay here so bad in the first place? You took a slurp of your milkshake as you contemplated. 
“Look, it’s sort of a town secret, but you remind me of my niece, so I’ll just tell you now. There’s this estate- gated, two story house, old timey stuff, gorgeous garden” Melissa waved her hands around as she spoke, chipped red fingernails putting on a show of their own. “It’s called the Flower House, actually. It’s been passed from generation to generation, since the town was founded. The boy who owns it now is just about your age, but he’s been living there alone since his cousin moved away for college years ago. He’s a lovely boy, we love when he comes into town, it just isn’t often.” you raised your eyebrows at her, trying to figure out how this mysterious boy and his ancestral house had anything to do with your housing predicament. “Long story short, he came around a few weeks ago looking for anyone who would be willing to help him keep the house and yard clean. No pay, but it’s free living in a beautiful home. And he’s not bad looking either.” she winked suggestively. “If you want, I can give you the address and you can go talk to him?”
You looked into her eyes, sparkling with hope of giving you a helping hand. “Okay, yeah. Sure, what have I got to lose?” Melissa hurried away to get writing materials as you continued eating with renewed vigor. 
As Melissa cleared your minimal dishes away, she set a ripped piece of paper in front of you that simply read;
“Choi Soobin, 476 Gardenia Dr.”
After paying and being sure to leave your helpful waitress a generous tip, you hopped back in your car and began your journey to discover the mysterious Flower House.
The drive through town was oddly peaceful, even with the grumbling of your car to accompany you alongside the pop songs on the radio. Air whipped into your windows as you drove by houses, small restaurants and one single chain grocery store where everyone seemed to be shopping. Stopping at an intersection with a single blinking stoplight, your phone instructed you to turn left. You passed the town’s schools, elementary and highschool; all huddled onto one campus with a large parking lot separating the two. The electric sign posted reminders of the last day of school for the students as you sped by. The farther you got away from the school, the older the houses became. Some were rotting apart, others covered in creeping vines. The street gradually slanted upwards as you continued to drive towards your destination. At the end of Gardenia Drive stood a towering home with a multitude of windows circling the entire building. A large chimney stood out on the top, one of the only signs of the home’s age; as the outside was wonderfully kept. The most impressive feature was of course the garden, for which the house gained its nickname. Your mouth hung open as you tried to fathom the sheer amount of flowers that were in full bloom on the front lawn. Blues, pinks, purples, reds and whites all stitched together in a beautiful quilt of florals. Some ivy was growing up the old wrought iron gates and the trunks of a few towering trees. While the growth made other houses look dated and worn down, the ivy here only added to the elegance that took your breath away. With your car parked on the road right outside, you exited your car to approach the gates. 
Fumbling with your hands, you navigated over the brick path leading up to the intimidating 10 foot tall gates. Despite the obvious history of the metal, a modern doorbell buzzer and camera system was installed just to the left of the entrance. It was harder than you’d like to admit to raise the courage for pressing the button. Your mind blanked as you performed the action, not knowing what to expect. A voice crackled through the speakers and made you jump. 
“Who’s there?” a smooth voice inquired. Suddenly you were unsure of what to say.
“I, uh. I’m Y/N. A waitress at Russ’ Diner told me to come talk to you about an um.” your mouth was suddenly going dry. “A living arrangement?” A small exclamation of understanding was music to your ears. 
“Okay! Hold on, I’ll be right over to the gate!” The static disappeared with the voice. You looked down at your phone out of habit and realized you had no reception. Figures, as you were sort of in the middle of nowhere. It didn’t matter right now anyway. You put the device in the back pocket of your shorts just as the gate began creaking open and welcoming you onto the property. You could faintly make out the shape of a body making its way toward you through the dense trees. 
When he stepped into your line of sight, sunshine managed to peek through the thick blanket of clouds that had been permeating your entire visit and bask him in a wash of gold. He was tall, with long legs covered in the material of light wash skinny jeans. The knees were a bit dirty, and you recognized the stains as a mix of grass and dirt. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt that clung perfectly to his wide shoulders and showed off his defined waist. 
Not only was he dressed in a way you definitely didn’t expect, but his looks threw you even farther into surprise. His face was evenly tanned, and not a single blemish could be found. Suddenly, you became all too aware of the dismal state of your own complexion and fought the urge to bring a hand up to cover your face from him. Dark, hooded eyes examined your form as you stood awkwardly on the path and waited for his next words. He seemed amused by your lack of introduction, and chuckled a little as he asked, “Y/N?” 
Hearing your name broke the spell that his beauty had put you under and you nodded. His face lit into a smile as he beckoned you further onto the land with a waving hand. You followed him closely and caught his words as they floated in the wind back to you. “I’m Soobin. This house belonged to my great-great-great uncle and his wife. Well, wives.” He chuckled to himself as he led you into a gazebo. Soobin settled into one of the wooden chairs situated around a matching table and gestured for you to sit in the one across from him. A pit of nervousness built in your stomach at the close proximity between the two of you. The table was only three feet wide, and Soobin’s long leg stretched in front of him and decreased your distance even more. Up close, you could see the permanent upturn of the corners of his mouth, and the sparkle in his brown eyes.
His honey brown hair ruffled in the breeze that passed you by and he closed his eyes at the feeling for a moment. “So,” he began suddenly, “you were at Russ’? Who sent you my way for the job?” He clasped his hands together and rested his chin on the new structure. He blinked owlishly as you took a deep breath. 
“Yeah, I just came into town for the summer. Melissa served me and she told me that all of the motels here are pretty shit,” Soobin laughed and nodded at that, and your heart skipped a beat. “So she gave me your info. Said you might be able to give me a better place to stay if I helped you out.” 
“Ah, I see. Melissa is right, though. Those motels are awful. I definitely wouldn’t want to see you staying there.” He appraised your face for a second while he paused. “If you want the job, it’s yours.” He stated as if it were the most casual thing in the world. You sputtered. 
“Wait, what? That quick? You don’t even know anything about me! I could be a murderer!” He laughed openly at you now, and the sound stirred an emotion in your stomach you hadn’t felt in months. 
“Well, are you? A murderer?” 
“No! Of course not.” Soobin nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. 
“So, can you clean? Cook a decent meal? Drive to the city for groceries? Water some plants?” You nodded at every question he raised and watched as his smile upticked more with every bob of your head. 
“Then you’re perfect. Welcome to the Flower House.” He stood, frame towering over your still sitting being and offered you a strong looking hand. Ticking his head toward the massive home behind him, he grinned. “Tour?”
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pancakesim · 4 years
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a ty gift for 600+ followers
yall voted for a sim dump and i’m here to deliver some sims, if these sims aren’t quite yer jazz my sim requests are basically always open c:
some preliminary deetz:
all sims come without outfits so dress em up how u see fit
feel free to change their hair, eyebrows, makeup whatever but like don’t change their genetics/faces too much the exception is the 4th sim Nyla who *can* optionally be used as a base
since they all wear facepaint eyes i’ve already gone through the trouble of putting them (& other necessary details like lashes and lips) for all the categories so you don’t have to
tag me if you use em i’d love to see what you do w em
cc lists & download links under the cut ya ya
my defaults: link
Blaise Arhan : DL (sfs) | ALT (mediafire) (no ads for either)
a spellcaster so technically he requires ROM
sliders / presets: Mouth Scale | Nose Sliders (N2 & N6) | Butt Slider | Hip Slider feel free to omit sliders / presets tbh but here they be: Leg Length | Neck Length | Foot Slider
genetics: Skintone (Natural) | Skin Overlay | Skin Detail 1 | Eyelids | Eyebags | Eyes | Hair | Hairline | Facial Hair(Benicio) | Eyebrows (136 Chad) | Blush (i used the merged ver)
extra: Tattoo | Septum (Moonlight) | Eyeshadow | Lips
Coralia Galene : DL (sfs) | ALT (mediafire) (no ads for either)
a mermaid so technically she requires Island Living
sliders / presets: Ear Preset (N1) | Nose Preset (N2) | Eye Preset (N3) Lip Sliders (N2 & N5) | Butt Slider | Nose Sliders (N2 & N6) | Mouth Scale feel free to omit sliders / presets tbh but here they be:  Leg Length | Neck Length | Foot Slider
genetics: Skin Overlay | About Face Details | Eyes (the post has been deleted, DM me/Ask off anon if you want them, otherwise replace them with whatever you see it) | Eyebrows (tsr) | Hair (TWH Recolor) | Lip Detail | Various Details (Scales, Blush etc) | Eyelashes | Tail & Scales V1 (I have the nsfw cas icons but you could always swap for the sfw icons) | Gradient Forearm | More Blush 
extra: Eyeliner (58 Omega) | Lips (Exposed Gloss) | Nails (i use the merged package)
Russ Acacia : DL (sfs) | ALT (mediafire) (no ads for either)
requires vampires or get famous for the limb color but its gucci if you don’t want em
sliders / presets: Eye Preset (included) | Mouth Preset | Ear Preset (N1) Lip Slider (N4) | Mouth Scale | Thigh Slider | Hip Slider
genetics: Skintone (Eclipse) | Skin Overlay | Vines + Overlay | Eyebags | About Face Details | Eyebags | Eyes (tsr) | Hair (TWH Recolor) | Eyebrows (Paparazzi) | Freckles | Gradient Fingers | Limb Colors | Teeth | Nose Detail 
extra: Eyeshadow
Nyla Reyna/Base : DL (sfs) | ALT (mediafire) (no ads for either)
sliders / presets: Lip Preset | Ears Preset (Regular) | Eye Preset (N3)   Mouth Scale | Lip Slider (N2) | Eyebrow Slider | Hip Shape | Butt Slider 
genetics: Skintone (Supernatural) | Overlay | Lip Detail | Hair (+ Headband Overlay) & Split Color (both in Candy’s Palette | Eyebrows (N2) | Eyes | Blush 1 (Tattoo ver) | Blush 2 (T Region) | Eyelashes | Hand Gradient | Teeth
extra: Lips | Eyeliner (i use the merged package)
@simblrcollective @maxismatchccworld
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softethan · 4 years
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an ethan playlist for every mood
tape 1 - side a (songs that make me think of ethan)
1. high hope - patrick droney  2. be mine - alabama shakes 3. wow. - post malone 4. lay me down - sam smith 5. rainbow - kasey musgraves 6. all the time - jeremih 7. bad reputation - shawn mendes 8. jungle - drake 9. daddy issues - the neighborhood (ofc who do you think i am) 10. imported - jessie reyez 11. i’ll be good - jaymes young 12. someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic 13. come on mess me up - cub sport 14. headlights - nick wilson 15. wdwgily - syml 16. bad religion - frank ocean 17. nobody’s lonely tonight - chris stapleton 18. i don’t remember me (before you) - brothers osborne
tape 1 - side b (songs i want to cuddle ethan to) 1. wild horses - the rolling stones 2. lost without you - freya ridings 3. be your man - rhys lewis 4. golden hour - kacey musgraves 5. hindsight - joey landreth 6. cuz i love you - lizzo 7. easier - 5SOS 8. way with words - bahamas 9. history - kinna grannis 10. cr-v - cuco 11. ruin - shawn mendes 12. joe (live from austin city limits) - alabama shakes 13. drew barrymore - bryce vine 14. know myself - justine skye 15. the night we met - lord huron 16. i found you - alabama shakes 17. 1950 - king princess 18. ophelia - the wood brothers
tape 2 - side a (songs to slow dance to with ethan) 1. you are my sunshine - jamey johnson 2. you are the best thing - ray lamontagne 3. stay with you - john legend 4. pushing up daisies - brothers osborne 5. rivers and roads - the head and the heart 6. 3 rounds and a sound - blind pilot 7. when the night is over - lord huron 8. all the time - bahamas 9. michigan - milk carton kids 10. here too far - beta radio 11. what are you listening to - chris stapleton 12. devil in me - delilah 13. in our prime - the black keys 14. dunes - alabama shakes 15. gemini - alabama shakes (leave me alone okay I love them) 16. slow dancing in a burning room - john mayer 17. idfc - blackbear 18. pink + white - frank ocean
tape 2 - side b (songs i want ethan to fuck me to) 1. the remedy for a broken heart - xxxtentacion 2. first fuck - 6lack, jhene aiko 3. b.e.d. - jacquees 4. planez - jeremih 5. love is a bitch - two feet 6. yeah, i said it - rihanna 7. bad intentions -nikyee heaton 8. don’t - bryson tiller 9. catch up - omar kadir 10. thinkin’ bout you - frank ocean 11. prblms - 6lack 12. ride slow - russ 13. peace of mind - partynextdoor 14. special affair - the internet 15. feel the love - kid cudi
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gnomebud · 4 years
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am watching an old polygon besties vid where they do a scavenger hunt at e3 (almost entirely composed of making vines) and one of the challenges was to find an indie developer and hug them, and chris and russ found this guy, and they’re hugging them, and then the little text at the bottom of the screen says “logan cunningham: supergiant games” and i went HADES??????????????? out loud irl
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Over the course of my life, I have become accustomed to the fact that when I introduce myself to people, most will reply with: “That’s a beautiful name.” It’s Lakeisha, Keisha for short and pop culture has demonised it. I have learned that this lukewarm compliment is often just a polite way of disguising what they really want to say: “That’s a very black name.”
Before the days of TikTok and Vine, YouTube reigned supreme as the go-to destination for viral video content. In 2009, a homemade sketch titled “A Hilarious compilation of funny black girl names” was uploaded to the website. Two young boys are shown taking it in turns to make their way through the list: fabled names such as “Obamaniqua”, “Elephantisha” and “Fri’Chickenisha” are mentioned for cheap laughs. But it’s the inclusion of real names like “Shaniqua”, “Latoya” and my own, “La’Kisha”, that make the video seem like less of a joke and more of a jibe.
Where music is concerned, Keisha has served as a long-running motif in hip hop more often than most black women’s names. Since its inception, the genre has frequently come under fire for championing misogyny – and my name has cropped up routinely. Take Russ & Tion Wayne’s recent chart-topper Keisha & Becky. Including lyrics like “Very sexy, Keisha, Becky” and “Oh my God, look at that bumper, what the bomba?” The overarching theme of the song is to sexualise and trivialise the women mentioned. Similarly, J Hus states that he “Might pull up on Keisha, I do it just to tease her” in his song Leave Me Alone, while Dave East’s track Keisha is a lyrical exposition of his intent to bed a licentious woman of that name. “I think within the genre, Keisha is used as a tool to unpack the various narratives that exist in stories… [there’s] a superficiality in reference to ‘her’ attributes,” says music writer Nicolas Tyrell, who specialises in hip hop discourse. “This will always place Keisha as an accomplice – the journey, not the destination.”
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Sunday, 12 April 1840
6 10/’’
10 5/’’
Ground covered with snow – But Reaumur 10º on the table close to my sofa bed at 6 1/4 – All ready and breakfast at 7 20/’’ to 8 – Did not sleep – Stomach very cold – Got up – Relighted candle – Took a teaspoonful of brandy about before one and afterwards slept till 6 having wrapt China crepe shall and shalloon cloak round my stomach – 
1/2 hour’s pother in paying our Persian Maître de Poste – At last counted all out separately in Silver – Pragoni i.e. pay for the horses, for the borrowed wheel one S.[Silver] R.[Ruble] and for greasing 40 S.[Silver] K.[Kopek] till even the Courier said it was too much and the man then returned the 15 S.[Silver] K.[Kopek] and took 25 S.[Silver] K.[Kopek] as paid before – He then saw that, as I had told him, he lost 46 1/2 Kopek cuivre by his pother and making me pay in Silver – Both George and the Courier laughed and the man himself laughed and asked for a pour boire – No! said I – But you will know me better another time and I will give you something then – Not now – I am glad you have paid for all this pother – Then gave an additional 10 S.[Silver] K.[Kopek] to the soldier of the house making 60 S.[Silver] K.[Kopek] instead of the 50 I should otherwise have given – This seemed to give great satisfaction as turning the laugh doubly against our Persian – The about 1 good English gill of milk we had last night gone sourish this morning = 15 S.[Silver] K.[Kopek] – Ccarce and dear here – 
Off from Dushet (pronounced Dōōshĭt) at 8 50/’’ – Clouds hanging over the mountains – But fine back view upon the largeish good looking Town and its large squary castle-like fortress, and the portico of its long earth covered flat roofed Gastinoi Dvor, and little white Gurien church and old ruined square Tower at some little distance on the hill side above – The brick church not quite finished but that will be handsome is Armenian – And close to the church are some goodish houses building à la Russe – One finished with gallery round au 1er[premier] looks neat and comfortable – 
A street or 2 in progress – And the underground curious old Gurien cottages will a few years hence be replaced by neat Russian cottages and houses – Went into one last night – Descended into the sunk porch (inclined plain no steps) then a sort of kitchen – Then a middle room to put things away in, then the 3d.[3rd] and sleeping room – 3 breadths of carpet on the floor and a fire place – Thick gravelled road over all these cottages that carts go over – One could not imagine houses beneath – No light but from the sunk porch, and from one little round hole in the top of the sleeping room opposite the porch – 
In the kitchen was the oven at the end on the right (on entering) like an English 40 gallon iron brewing pan sunk up to its brim – They make wood a fire in this and cover it over – Then take out the fire when the sides are red hot – Put in the cakes ant they are baked in 10 minutes – But inquire more about this at Tiflis – 
Smoking Semovars in the Gastinoi Dvor and soldiers drinking hot mead looking tea without milk in the shops (Gastinoi Dvor) much natural rock salt in large pieces of greyish spar-like rock – Eggs – Mutton fat (Tallow) much small bacon – Persian dried large prunes and cherries and salts and the bean (small kidney, reddish) one has seen everywhere from Astracan here – Onion tops, and rice (not real rice said George groom here) – Cotton printed handkerchiefs and narrow white cloths linen or cotton – But the most striking are the wine shops – The bullock hides, en outre, apparently hair left on inside full of red wine sold at -/20 Kopek en cuivre per about an English pint – One shop quite Élégante had a bottle of Donskoi champagne-wise and ditto ditto Tiflis wine at 1/40 the bottle assignats or 40 S.[Silver] K.[Kopek] or 2 Georgian abash –
Off from Duchet at 8 50/’’ – The handsome square fort, a round tower at corner, at a little distance left as we ascended the down-like hill – The handsome looking white monastery at a considerable on the hill behind us to the right – Duchet stands well and picturesquely on the side of the hill in the largeish fine open valley – The Town on one side the valley the fortress on the other – 
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The castle at Dusheti, which is probably what Anne calls a “castle”.
Our road a sort of field-road up and over the hill top a high plateau of good land between wooded hills near left – Considerable distance right – descend (but keep high up along the right side) into nice high valley and at 9 40/’’ – Picturesque old round Tower and 2d.[2nd] village and reed thatched village (probably there are under ground cottages not seen?) and stream with rather broadish bouldery bed – Capital land on the high plateau and all along – They might grow anything but barley the chief corn at Duchet and all round about – Saw some in winnowing last night it looked pretty fair – Tolerably plump grained and very clean – Thrown up in a shovel, and the wind winnowed it in falling – 
At 9 40/’’ our 2d.[2nd] village on knoll at head of this charming little valley – The 1st poor or less was at the verge of the high plateau – 1st vines at this our 2d.[2nd] village in the bottom – High sticks or rice props and some transomed supports as at Astracan –
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But soon after here the bottom full of wood – Pollard oaks or willows or what and brush and tangle and bouldery stream – Soon after 2d.[2nd] village gather yellow St. John’s wort like flowers (5 petals and many stamina) and little pink hepaticas and smell less violets and cowslips – And at 10 Descend into main valley the fine valley of our Aragna (which we had left after Ananoor, and see again now 1st time) – 
On each side beautifully sillonné rounded wooded hill – Broad bouldery streamy river – Wind along with the river close left on its high perpendicular conglomerate gravel bank and at 10 35/’’ make an elbow to the right into the now still wider valley of our Aragna – A fine broad bouldery streamy river occasionally in one good stream – 
At 10 40/’’ pass a little rather Russian like wood cottage or farm right, and at 11 7/’’ little village of huts in basin-like opening out of valley and neat white plastered little Government Station House – Little drizzling rain now and for the last 1/2 hour – 2 feet deep of capital warp soil shewn over the high conglomerate bank of river – All the trees all along our valleys lopped higher or lower – Our great valley (Val d’Aragna) a mile broad? 
No horses at Tortiskar – Our wheel to send back and to our own 3 ‘il faut mettre des bracelets’! – Till now 12 3/4 have just written all but the 1st 3 lines of today – Coolish air and clouds darkish – Threatening rain? Great many of the queer elephantic camel-gaited cattle hereabouts they hold their heads poking forward and walk very much in the camel-style – Got out of the Kibitka to look about me – A few drops of light rain which however soon blew off – Government House – One might sleep here very well – A good room front one on each side the door for travellers – And the back rooms for the family – 
Longish job of paying – 2 S.[Silver] R.[Rubles] for repairing the wheel pour mettre les bracelets 2 or 3 thin shreds of lead-like iron that were worth very little and the Maître de P.[Poste] would have 2 S.[Silver] R.[Rubles] for the loan of his wheel (which he would not sell for 20 S.[Silver] R.[Rubles] tho’ it hardly lasted us to Tiflis) – Necessary – Nothing to be said – 
Off at 1 31/’’ – Magnificent – (vide + and ≠ above) The opening out is another wider valley from East to West that traverses our Valley d’Aragna something like the diagram as I do it from memory now Monday 13 April 6 p.m. at Tiflis the little o meant to represent the Station House on a knoll in the neck of the transversal valley and to reach which we crossed over little wood bridge and stream just below the house and amid Georgian (Gurien) ground-huts –
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How many always difficult to tell and they are so like the ground itself – Soon after leaving the basin-like opening our road a deepish cut thro’ indurated sand, and then thro’ hard sand rock – Like my Bairstow quarry sandstone and at 1 50/’’ pass under the old ruined castle Prēajnēa Krepost, (Prēēajnēēa Krēēăpost) close left, and at 1 55/’’ Georgian church (Byzantine) very pretty and picturesque near right, and walled monastery at a little distance left, and wood bridge over the broad shallow bouldery river and on high point of ridge of hill just above very picturesque old castle – Valley here little more than road and river – 200 yards broad? – 
Alight at the monastery at 2 to 2 55/’’ – They call it Nānt-Shĕt – Vide p.[page] 113. Mtsketha line 9 from the bottom –
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‘The fortress remains’ – The old walls are with an old remain of Tower or 2 are very picturesque from without, but as to fortress all is ruin within, as was till lately the fine old Cathedral; but now it is all under repair, the exterior finished, and the interior will be this summer – Except on close examination, and seeing the few morsels of ancient sculpture carefully spared, it is like a handsome new church in the old Byzantine style standing amid a mass of ruins – 
In some of the old building within and up against the old fortress walls are several Gurien families of peasants and labourers, living in comparative darkness as usual – They were shovelling very decent brown wheat (rather long and thin in the grain) down a round hole not more than 18 to 22 in.[inches] in diameter into a granary in the ground – So near full of corn I could not judge of the depth – No entrance – No way of getting the corn out again but by the round hole – How this savours of remote antiquity! If one is perpetually reminded of ancient usages in the Pyrenees, much more is one reminded of them here – The houses, ovens sunk in their house-floors, dress (the bourka) – Cattle-skin outres of wine let out at one of the legs, boats scooped out of the trunks of large trees – Are surely sheeps fleece without and felt within, impenetrable to rain, is surely the very same one sees on ancient medals thrown over all the heroes of old who used to wear it as they do here with its opening turned from the storm be it in front at the back or on either shoulder – 
Among the old sculpture of the Cathedral St. George and the Dragon – Over the Great East window a Greek eagle – A Tiger – 
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Eagle and tiger detail from the Svetitskhoveli Cathedral. (Image source).
And below 2 horse-heads – Several mouldings of cornices and of window frames and doors &c. of very well done tracery cruciform flowers and lilies – Angels – 
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More details from the Svetitskhoveli Cathedral. (Image source).
2 birds eating (something like, in the style of, the diagram? but well done – I had no time to make any sketch on the spot) –
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There always among the flowers the sun flower or what we call marigold? – One large window in the East end and on each side of it a deep empty niche nearly the whole heighth[height] up to the square of the roof – The first instance I have seen of this – Effect very striking and good – 
No entrance but at the West end with porch – They said the doors could not be opened – Went up to one of the 2 priests standing by – Took him by the arm – Held out my purse – The door opened – 
A nave and 2 narrow aisles a curious little old stone shrine-like little place in the South aisle where the relics are kept –
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The whole of the interior has been painted in fresco on the South side opposite the dome is an old Zodiac with a boat instead of the Sign Pisces – The whole of the painting is to be renewed the new to be an exact copy of the old – 
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The zodiac fresco, after restoration. Photo by Diego Delso, delso.photo, License CC-BY-SA. (Image Source)
Over the East end – Over the Sanctum Sanctorum is a chapel as also over the West end a small ditto a 1/2 length figure of one covers the whole East end included in the chapel which seems to take up 1/2 the whole height of the building – This gigantic painting is very striking, and the effect is good – It is the first instance of the kind I ever saw – 
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The gigantic fresco Anne mentions. (Image Source)
The church is dimly but sufficiently lighted principally from the dome, a 16 sided Tower? with a long lancet window in each side – Effect very good dehors – Did not sufficiently notice it within – Must go again? 
55 minutes there – Long for post horses to wait – In the cottage we went into the people dining – Some sort of greens (onion sprouts? they are sold in all the shops) and the large dried Persian cherries and some sort of bit of meat? 2 strong tree post supported the heavy beams that carried the straw spars that carried the earth covered roof and left a hole in the centre of the room over the bit of fire for the smoke to escape – A pair of large stags horns nailed to each post and on the antlers narrow boards laid across for shelves think of this at Shibden – Gamba says there are 200 houses here – Probably – It is a large Gurien city – 
Off from the cathedral at 2 55/’’ – Walked down the steep pitch, along the rock-girt Kur which here at right angles pours it deeper narrower stream into the Aragna and runs in its course and drowns its name in that of Kur – ‘Tis here just above the junction that one crosses the Aragna by the long good wooden bridge that certainly shews no trace of Pompey (vide p.[page] 113) – 
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The remains of Pompey’s Bridge, Mtsketha. (Image Source)
Wine shop and one of the large outres lying on its back the 4 legs sticking up, and from one a glass of red wine pouring out – Then tied up again – George says the hair is left on inside and this covered with pitch or the skin would not hold – A bloated red dead cow or ox was lying in the Kur – George declared the skin would be made into an outre – Was it merely the skin lying macerating in the water by way of preparat? 
On the strand of the Kur at its junction with the A-[Aragna] lay 3 of the river boats – Cut out of the trunks of immense oak trees (I think) 2 of them pitched inside and outside the other merely hollowed adzed out, and not yet pitched – I think they 4 or 5 yards long and the narrowest 2 ft.[feet] wide of hollow at the top – The largest 2ft.[feet] 6 in.[inches] or more? – 
Off from the bridge at 3 – At 3 1/4 valley sand rocky and bare and 9 Troglodite houses in the sand rock right, and right bank of Kur, not far from us, and at some distance ahead (left) a sort of little alum bay (Isle of Wight) different coloured strata of sand but not quite so perpendicular -
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Crowned with low building which afterwards seemed to be a low ruined square tower – Kur like Calder between Salterhebble and Elland as to breadth white greenish muddy stream close right deepish here at 3 1/4 between its highish rock banks – But soon after widens into broad bouldery stream between low banks of sand at 3 1/2 our bracelets des roues coming off – 
Stopped a minute or 2 to hammer up, and tie on with rope! – As we have done before – And at 3 40/’’ at old ruined square castle and village 12 v.[versts] from Tiflis – Probably Mtsketha is about 6 v.[versts] from Tortiskar and ∴[therefore] about 21 v.[versts] from Tiflis – And Tiflis in sight at 4 35/’’ – Descend – 
At 5 5/’’ shew podorojna – At 5 13/60 cross the river – Somehow our drivers take us one way and George driven him another, and before he could come to us our stupid fellows had had us all but on the ground a parcel of men in the street prevented and heaved us up again, and then tried to turn instead of backing – Broke the fore axle main bolt – That the near fore wheel under the carriage the shaft horse down and we had a terrible to do during which George came – He walked with us and the servants Kibitka followed to the Inn (came in at 5 40/’’) we took our rooms one large and 3 smaller one at 2 1/2 Silver Rubles a day, and he then went back to Nikolai – We went out in 3 or 4 minutes just as they had got our Kibitka to the door and thrown it over and broke off the door – Left with George -/70 for his driver – Would give ours nothing – They had done too much mischief sauntered about to the little fountain and peeped in at the gate of a nice large garden near the fountain – Curious – interesting – To us novel Eastern-like Town – 
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A view of Tiflis in the 19th century. (Image Source).
Came in at 6 20/’’ – Tea at 7 25/’’ to 8 50/’’ – Had Domna – All the skin will come off her face in consequence of passing the mountains to Kaishaur (Kāsh-ă-ŏŏr), and her head is rather swollen, and she complains of much headache – Sat reading Dubois till 9 3/4 – 
Finish day for the drizzling rain did not last long and the few drops at 4 p.m. blew off – Whistling wind tonight, and oddish smell of damp? in our large cold, 6 windowed (single windows very far from air-tight) room – Something with the stove flue – Could not have a fire till tomorrow – Reaumur 7 1/2º on my table where I sat writing at 9 3/4 p.m. ∴[therefore] did not venture to undress, but taking of gown and shoes thick over stockings slept flannel jacket and in my Chelat as usual when we cannot regularly undress, and as we have done from Astracan to Kislar[Kizlyar] and from K-[Kizlyar] to Vladicavkas and from V-[Vladicavkas] to here – still cold enough –
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[symbols in the margin of the page:]         +          ≠          +
[in the margin of the page:]            Dushet
[in the margin of the page:]            Cottage
[in the margin of the page:]            oven
[in the margin of the page:]            Mead, i.e., hot water and honey
[in the margin of the page:]            1 Abash = 20 Silver Kopek
[in the margin of the page:]            Mtsketha
[in the margin of the page:]            vide p.[page] 113.
[in the margin of the page:]            Mtsketha cathedral
[in the margin of the page:]            Granary
[in the margin of the page:]            All savours of antiquity
[in the margin of the page:]            Bourka
[in the margin of the page:]            Gigantic painting of Xst[Christ]
[in the margin of the page:]            16 sided dome?
[in the margin of the page:]            Shelves on the antlers of stag’s horns for Shibden
[in the margin of the page:]            vide p.[page] 113
[in the margin of the page:]            Outre
[in the margin of the page:]            Boats
 Page References: SH:7/ML/E/24/0082 and SH:7/ML/E/24/0083 and SH:7/ML/E/24/0084
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sadgrimmjow-blog · 4 years
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Tired
Losing Control-Russ
Okay, why do people project their past insecurities onto others. I understand it’s a difficult life to have seen your father cheat and also see your uncle be abusive. It’s not easy, but it’s not correct to generalize all guys to be like that. I can understand that it’s not on purpose, and it’s coming from a place of hurt and wanting to protect yourself, but if you don’t open up there really isn’t a point of me trying.
Constantly pointing out that all men are trash, I mean while it seems politically correct, is just really tiresome to hear over and over. That’s the thing about love though. You’re not supposed to say things that hurt other people whether it is a joke or not. And it just shows how narrow minded you are if you say “its just a joke” after every hurtful thing you say. Physical and mental health have both been negatively impacted by the things you say.
When did I stop trusting people the way I used to. After finding out how easy I get hurt by other people’s words, I realize that I have to build up a steel armor around my heart to help me sleep well at night.
To be honest, I realize that first relationships can be hard. I expected this going in too. I knew I was putting myself in a position to be hurt, but I never expected it to be a constant thorn vine wrapped around my heart. Dark humor really isn’t for anyone. Also it doesn’t make you stupid if you don’t understand dark humor. That’s something I need to tell myself more.
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