#jove: **opens his mouth** | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

agerefanfics · 3 months

Text

[Disclaimer: This is an SFW Agere story! Please don’t be weird about it OR confuse it with k1nk!]

(also this is my take on graham’s ‘home’ so it won’t be accurate at all)

~~~

It was like any other banquet for Cogs Inc., and a boring one at that. It was the same every year, the CEO would talk about the most boring slop only for it to be sabotaged by those lousy toons with their sickly sweet gags. Honestly, that’s what Graham wished would happen right this second.

Graham sat in his chair, fiddling with his hair as he tried to stomach all the drabble and pointless yammering from the CEO, mumbling to himself while doing so. His mind had tried to wander off into nothingness only to be brought back by the annoying rambling that was the CEO.

He sighed, leaning his hands on the side of his face, his elbow on the table aiding on propping him up. He was incredibly bored and restless, so much so that he hadn’t even so much as touched his can of oil in front of him. He wished Flint was beside him, but he was only to be seen at another table. He whined quietly.

If it wasn’t clear he was restless, the Bellringer sure took notice of it. Benjamin was always the kind of cog to get into gossip, regardless of how mundane it was. He wondered to himself why Graham was so much more restless than usual, but paid no mind for the moment. After all, he wasn’t going to miss out on any sort of information to gossip about later in this banquet.

~~~

Hours had passed..or was it a few minutes?

Graham was finally at his breaking point, this banquet was officially the slowest one he had been at and his neediness for freedom and peace was dire. His eyes were half-lidded and begging to finally close. In his exhausted daze, he unconsciously began to suck at this thumb, his eyes fluttering closed as he finally had a moment to cope and regress. He wasn’t sure why this comforted him, as he never had a childhood or was ever a kid to begin with. He was just a robot born from a machine and made to work. Even if he didn’t notice what he was doing, Benjamin sure did, as just peeping a look next to him told him enough of what was happening.

“You ok, ‘ove?”

Ben asked, his hand placed on Graham’s shoulder.

Graham’s eyes snapped open as he quickly withdrew his thumb from his mouth. He was caught in a daze for a moment, before snapping his head towards Ben. Shit, he had been caught red-handed.

“Can’t a guy get some peace and quiet!?”

Graham huffed, clearly upset that his moment of peace had popped like a delicate bubble.

Benjamin was taken aback by this sudden outburst, drawing his hand off of the tired cog’s shoulder.

“By Jove! My apologies, Mr.Payser. I was simply curious as to what you were doing.”

Graham growled.

“It’s none of your damn business! You better not tell a soul about what you saw.” “I know you and your gossiping ways, bell boy..”

Graham snarled out, rubbing his eyes in the process.

Before Benjamin could utter another word, the boisterous sound of the CEO echoed out. The banquet was finally over with, thank COG.

Without any hesitation, Graham sprinted out of the room, leaving a lot of the managers confused..except for Flint. He knew (and saw) what had gone down, and had to check up on the speedy cog.

~~~

“Stupid fucking Ben, ruining my peace. How would he like it if I did that to him!?”

Graham mumbled to himself, pacing in his familiar pace corner. The cog had busied himself for minutes now, not once taking a moment to calm down. He only got angrier by the second.

Flint arrived on the floor via elevator, after a long and leg breaking walk to his destination. When the bell dinged, he stepped out of the elevator to see the familiar cog pacing around. Flint sighed, and approached the human-like cog.

“Graham? Are you ok?”

Flint asked, causing the sellbot to stop and turn around. Before Flint could utter another question, he had been tackled down by the sellbot, the sensation of arms wrapped around him snuggly present. The wind clearly knocked out of him.

Graham had no intention of letting go of Flint, his eyes slowly pricked with tears as his frustrations finally welled up into mindless weeping.

Still holding Graham, Flint sat up and placed the cog on his lap, all the while rubbing the sellbot’s back soothingly.

“Oh, you poor thing..”

Flint exhaled, still rubbing the poor sellbot’s back as Graham sobbed into his suit.

It had been mere minutes before Graham finally calmed down, merely sniffling as he wiped his face of dried tears.

“Feel better, Honey?”

Flint asked, his hand still placed on Graham’s back.

Graham sniffled.

“Not really..”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” “No.”

Flint sighed, respecting Graham’s wishes, although wishing he would open up for once. They had finally broken up the hug, leaving Graham sitting on the floor. Flint quickly took notice of this and stood in front of the sellbot.

“You want uppies, lil’ buddy?” Graham quickly nodded, his arms raised and hands pawing the air. Flint took that as a yes and quickly picked up the cog in his arms, supporting Graham like he was nothing more than a heavy pillow. Graham quickly placed his thumb in his mouth, suckling as he leaned against Flint's shoulder. The poor thing was clearly tired after a rough banquet.

“How about we get you into some more comfy clothes and I'll fix you some oil to drink?”

Graham mumbled in a ‘yes’ sort of manner, and simply snuggled his face into Flint's shoulder. Flint simply patted Graham's back as he made his way upstairs. Finally in the bedroom, he sat Graham on the bed and walked over to the nearby closet, opening it to many outfits that Graham never wore super often, as it was company protocol to wear suits in the first place.

Hidden deep in the closet, was a footed onesie decorated with a leopard pattern, including little ears on the hood and a tail on the back. Flint pulled it out of the closet and presented it to Graham. Graham looked up with puppy-like eyes, seemingly in his own headspace.

“Look Grammy, it’s your favorite onesie! Do you wanna wear this?”

Graham simply nodded his head, reaching his arms out to grab the piece of soft and comfortable fabric. Flint, knowing that Graham could manage putting on the onesie himself, simply kissed him on the forehead and made his way to the stairs.

“I’ll be back, Lil buddy. I’m just gonna fix your drink for you while you get dressed!” “Okay Flint..”

Graham responded, still sitting on the bed as he watched Flint leave the room. Flint made his way to one of the smaller rooms that happened to be a fairly small kitchen.

[Author’s temporary note: this door right here is the kitchen. Work with me here ok i'm trying. Ok, continue with the story.]

Flint opened the door to the small room and it was mostly empty. Graham never took the time to have everything that a kitchen needed. Sure it had counters, a very small fridge and a microwave but that was really it. Sighing, Flint made his way over to the fridge, opening it to surprisingly see it stocked up with cans of oil. It made sense really, considering how much Graham moved around and ran all over the place.

Grabbing a can of oil, he used a claw to open a hole into the can. Setting the oil on the counter, he looked for any sort of cup, only to find something that would work just fine: A sippy cup.

Grabbing the sippy cup and opening the lid, he carefully poured the oil into the small cup until it was just about full. Closing and tightening the lid, he made his way out of the small kitchen, closing the door behind him. Making his way to the stairs, he made his way up to be greeted with a fully dressed Graham, all cozy in a leopard onesie.

“Hi Graham-Gram, I got your baba all ready for you!”

Flint had noticed that Graham had found his favorite pacifier, and as Graham quickly looked over to Flint, his face brightened up while still suckling on the object in question. Flint couldn’t help but feel relief and comfort in knowing Graham was going to be just fine.

Graham quickly pulled his pacifier out, setting it to the side as he raised his arms up, pawing the air yet again as he giggled. Flint walked over and sat beside Graham, handing over the sippy cup to the smaller robot. Seeing the cog start quickly chugging the oil down was a bit surprising to Flint, as even with Graham’s standards he’d know better than to drink oil that fast.

“Woah, Buddy. let’s slow down with the chugging. You don’t wanna get a stomachache..”

Flint said, with a tinge of concern in his voice. Graham took this to heart, slowing himself down as he moved to lay his head on Flint’s lap. Flint didn’t budge and instead started to gently brush and play with Graham’s curled hair. Even in the state Graham was in, it felt so nice to see a happy cog again.

In between drinking nearly half of the oil, Graham stopped and looked up at Flint. He wondered about why Flint seemed so ok with this, so…relaxed and caring about all of this. Just the simple questions and thoughts made him almost teary eyed again. Flint quickly noticed this, and carefully graced his hand on the side of Graham’s face.

“What’s wrong, Graham?”

He asked, obviously concerned for him.

“Mmh..”

Graham Whined.

Flint sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Listen Graham, I know it’s hard to talk, but I can't help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong..”

Flint replied, stroking the man’s soft hair.

Graham looked down, bitter tears forming in his eyes. He wanted to tell Flint so badly what had upset him but couldn’t find the right words to explain it. He simply took a deep breath and sighed.

“Flint..Do you think i’m a freak?”

Flint was taken aback by the question, not expecting such a response. He lifted Graham up and adjusted him so he sat on his lap.

“Now what makes you think that? I would never ever say something like that to you!”

“Well it’s just that..i was caught sucking my thumb at the banquet by that dumbass bell. I couldn’t help it, the banquet was so boring! I’m terrified that he’ll gossip about it to the others and they’ll know how much of a freak I am for coping like this..”

Graham spilled out, tears leaking down his face as he explained his heart out. Flint understandably had a terrible amount of concern for him. Flint gently hugged Graham, slowly rubbing his back in circles.

“Don’t you ever say that word ever again. You’re not a freak, you’re simply trying to cope and there’s nothing wrong with that. So what if he gossips about it, I’ll have a personal talk with him sometime.”

Graham felt shocked that Flint took it so seriously, which should’ve been expected for him.

“But..” “I don’t want to hear it, Graham.”

Flint released Graham from the hug and looked at the teary-eyed cog. His yellow eyes looking into those purplish-pink eyes that stared back at him. He placed his finger and thumb under Graham’s chin and gently smirked.

“Besides, you’re my little superstar, and nothing will ever make me love you any less. Not even a gossiping bell.”

Flint kissed Graham’s forehead, before returning the both of them into a hugging embrace. Graham couldn’t help but feel the tears fill back up again as he gently hugged Flint back.

“I..bwuh..mmh..”

He whined, finally letting himself snivel and whimper as he felt the tears roll down his face. He swore his crying lasted for an hour, but had only been merely a bare few minutes before he eventually tired himself out. Flint took note of this and simply smiled.

“Did my little superstar tire himself out?”

Graham could only make a single sound as a way of saying ‘yes’, which gave Flint a sense of confirmation and simply stood up, carrying Graham in his arms. Grabbing the pacifier, he popped it into Graham's mouth, which he took to gladly.

Moving over to the side of the bed, he gently opened the covers with one arm and gently placed graham onto the soft mattress. He gently pulled the blanket to cover Graham up and gave him a kiss on his forehead once more. Walking his way to the other side, Flint carefully got into the bed, covering himself with the soft and comfortable cover. Not even a few seconds into getting comfortable in bed, Graham turned over and snuggled close to Flint, the warmth lulling him to a blissful slumber. Flint smiled, placing one of his hands on Graham’s head as he too began to doze off.

He wasn’t sure what would happen for the both of them tomorrow, but right now it didn’t matter.

All he knew was that Graham was safe, and that was all that mattered.

#sfw interaction only #sfw agere #fanfiction #age regression #agere caregiver #firestarter #pacesetter #toontown corporate clash #cw swearing

16 notes · View notes

finnified · 8 days

Text

mermaids are, by and large, a phenomenon that no-pirate really understands.

they’re not particularly known to be social creatures- in fact, depending on which circles you move in, some will say they don’t even exist, that reports of mermaids are just sirens mis-identified.

adalwulff isn’t sure if she buys it, either way, but she hadn’t guessed before this that it would be something she’d have to give real thought to.

it’s been two months since finneas’s disappearance. adalwulff has been out on the water since day one, searching for a clue of where he might’ve fled or been taken to. the only clue that’s been revealed to any of their motley crew- adalwullf and finneas’s friends, still on the isles- was his star-spangled seajacket, which someone- maybe it was the siren?- found washed up under the docks of one of the kestrel piers.

it had left a sick, metallic taste in everyone’s mouths.

adalwulff is summoned out of their thoughts by a cry from the starboard side of the ship. “captain! there’s something caught in the line! maybe a dol- woah!”

“jay? speak, man!” adalwulff calls as they practically trip over themself to emerge from belowdecks. the sounds of a frantic struggle ring out from the starboard deck, proper cursing and all.

the pirate captain’s saber is already drawn as she skids to a halt on the top deck, twisting about in a start to reorient herself as she catches a flash of something ruby-iridescent in the light. she blinks, and then-

“fi- by jove, men! let him go!” adalwulff rushes over the roiling, flopping figure in the net as fast as ze can, but fae can’t move fast enough to beat the horrible, rotting feeling eating up jaer insides.

she skids up to the side deck where heath, maryssa and jay are crouched in a loose semicircle around the flailing form caught in the wet mass of netting on the deck. locking xer jaw to keep xemself from crying out, adalwulff takes in dark red and purple scales on thin, pale arms and a huge semi-translucent purple tail-fin twitching under the weight of a heavy fishlike tail and-

huge, dark brown eyes that seemed blue in their darkest depths, peering out from beneath dark wavy hair plastered to a pale, scaled face by the salt water crusted in the curls.

adalwulff reaches out vaguely to their left side, and jay takes hyr arm as he hauls himself to standing. “captain?”

after just a moment, adalwulff shakes off his arm and shakes hyr head, before stumbling over to the moon-white face peering out from the net. zie fumble zir belt for a switchblade and shakily reach out to start cutting the netting, ignoring the way the creature- the mermaid- starts twitching and thrashing when he sees the knife.

“shh, shhhh, it’s okay… it’s okay-“ adalwulff mutters as she deftly works the net away from what is probably his very sensitive tail. as soon as he’s free enough he immediately begins to lash out, and it’s all adalwulff can do not to cut him.

“dear seas, finneas-“ adalwulff lunges back as finn growled and snaps at her, releasing a guttural sound from its throat. adalwulff loosens her grip on the knife and allows it to go flying, glancing at it to make sure finn sees its go.

finn opens its mouth and makes another deep gargling sound, and adalwulff holds up jaer hands in surrender. his name slips out of hyr mouth without her even realizing. “oh, finn- who did this to you?”

finn vocalizes yet again, and the captain realizes that it’s not an angry sound, maybe- it sounds like he’s trying at her name, maybe-

“finn, buddy, do you remember me? captain adalwulff?”

he opens his mouth and his throat catches on the ad- sound at the beginning of hyr name.

adalwulff sits back on their heels in shock, reeling from the reality of this situation that’s washing over xem like so many waves. the wiry little crafty kite she used to know is a seas-forsaken mermaid. he can’t speak. he’s so thin and battered, even this way. without intent, adalwulff feels their eyes begin to mist.

“oh, finn.” she reaches out to him again, thoughts a million miles away, trying to craft the best plan on to inform his friends of his fate. “oh, finn, i’m sorry i couldn’t save you from this.”

—————

if i speak, i am in trouble, so i am NOT going to speak! (To be abundantly clear this is for the MERMAY AU i have been cooking with the gang , finneas is not actually dead. i prommy)

#he speaks [original posts]#oc: finneas [pirates smp]#feather to quill and pen to page [writing]#telling dead men’s tales #ummm. hai! happy mermay

6 notes · View notes

idontknowreallywhy · 1 year

Text

Best Jupidad Moments #6 Nevermoor Ch 9 - What’s Really Important?

Right, I’m not going to lie, I’m struggling to differentiate between “the best Jupidad moments” and “ALL the Jupidad moments” as each one has its particular charm but… I’ll try to rein myself in!

First: trying exciting new things…

The bone-shaking terror she’d felt watching the platform speed towards her was washed away by a wave of adrenaline, and she let out a triumphant shout as they hooked on to the rail. Jupiter grinned, throwing his head back to enjoy the ride.

I especially love this moment right now because I recently took my daughter on her first proper rollercoaster ride. She wanted to do it, to start with, but got herself very worked up and tearful in the queue. Part of me wanted to just say “ok fine, we don’t have to do this today” but I feel like I know her fairly well(!) and I was sure she’d enjoy it and also be really proud of herself for facing her fear and going through with it. So instead I said “we’re going to do it, I think you’ll love it but if not it’ll be less than a minute, you’ll be safe and I’m with you and we never have to do it again”. Thankfully she did love it, but I did question myself and my parenting a lot in that queue!

Our Jupidad is making a similar call, albeit without the assurance of physical safety cos… Nevermoor… and sure enough this becomes one of Morrigan’s favourite things about living in the city. Did he know for sure she wouldn’t hate it? No. But he pushes her to try anyway.

I also suspect he’s running distraction here - she’s nervous about the garden party, so he gives her something else to focus on, where she gets a big old shot of adrenaline and arrives at the party thinking “wow, I did that!” which should take the edge off the nerves at least a little. Clever Jove.

He also lets her choose her own outfit, rather than forcing her into something that would make her either blend in with everyone else’s pastel vibe, or match his own flamboyant style…

… filled with people in light linen suits and pastel dresses. Jupiter had allowed Morrigan to choose her own outfit – a black dress with silver buttons, which Dame Chanda declared ‘smart, but utterly lacking in spectacle’. Morrigan thought Jupiter’s lemon-yellow suit and lavender shoes provided enough spectacle for both of them.

I think this is a pretty big deal actually and perhaps not something Morrigan would have foreseen after the “black isn’t a colour” conversation. Would it have been kinder to have said “I think everyone else will wear something more spring-ish”? It might have saved her from a couple of insults from Noelle… but the two of them were likely to clash anyway and isn’t it better to start making new friendships by being yourself? It’s easy to want to protect a child from getting splashed by social waves, but if you coddle them too much they won’t learn to swim in the sea.

There are some waves, however, that nobody should take to the face. Like raw sewage, radioactive waste, or Baz Charlton…

He was cut off by a sharp look from Jupiter, his mouth left hanging open. ‘Consider your next words carefully, Mr Charlton,’ Jupiter said in the low, cold voice that Morrigan had heard from him only once before, on Eventide at Crow Manor. She shivered.

Baz Charlton closed his mouth. Jupiter stepped aside, releasing the long-haired man from his gaze and allowing him to stumble away. He sighed as he smoothed down his yellow suit and gave Morrigan’s shoulder a quick squeeze. ‘Told you. Odious man. Pay no attention.’

I really want to know what the deal is with Jupiter’s low, cold voice because it really freaks everyone out! I wonder how often he uses it other than in Mog-defence-mode? It’s a very effective way of protecting Morrigan here and although I think we’d all like to see Baz dropped from a great height into a skip, I really appreciate how there’s no physical threat used.

Enjoying yourselves?’ Jupiter wandered over with a placid smile, ignoring the stream of servants rushing past with nets and brooms. Morrigan chewed the side of her mouth guiltily. ‘A bit.’

Ha, I love the image of that smile where he knows exactly what’s gone on here. I also adore the fact that Morrigan has somehow befriended the one child out of 500 who is probably the most like Jupiter was at school 😅

Plus the moment of mirroring later when she asks Jove a question she knows the answer to:

‘I’m here illegally, aren’t I?’

Jupiter chewed the side of his mouth. ‘A bit.’

How do they debrief later? Not with a “so, what did you think of Wunsoc?” but…

‘You made a friend.’ ‘I think so.’

‘Anything else of interest?’

Morrigan thought for a moment. ‘I think I made an enemy too.’

‘I didn’t make my first proper enemy until I was twelve.’ He sounded impressed.

Oh poor Morrigan, you’re going to rack up a few of those pretty soon. Thanks to Jupidad for making that sound like an achievement rather than a character flaw 😬

‘Promise you’ll think about it?’

‘Only if you promise you’ll stop thinking about not getting into the Society.’

‘But if I don’t get in—’

‘We’ll blow up that bridge when we come to it.’ Morrigan sighed. Just give me a straight answer, she thought. But she said no more.

Jupiter ushered Morrigan down the hall ahead of him. ‘Now. Tell me more about your resourceful new friend. Where in the Seven Pockets did he find a barrel full of toads?’

And just like that he brings it back round to what should be important to an 11 year old - friends, having fun, new experiences - and sharing the excitement of these things with a parental figure is such a precious and vital part of the relationship. Jupiter proves he is as interested in these details of her life as much if not as more than the big picture “what does the future hold, what is my purpose?” kind of stuff that threatens to take over.

This is maybe my favourite thing about Jupidad - how he constantly values her as a person (and as part of that her everyday life experience) above everything else, even though he is confronted with the BIG thing that makes her particularly important to the world every single time he looks at her.

#nevermoor #jupidad #jupiter north #morrigan crow #feel free to add your thoughts or any moments I missed!#parenting lessons from fiction #The Deucalion also hits a similar parenting high with that jelly sculpture painting fwiw

36 notes · View notes

jabbage · 5 months

Text

#Letters from Watson #lettersfromwatson

5 notes · View notes

zorkaya-moved · 1 year

Note

" you have such bad taste in men. "

@bitterseadrop

How lucky of them both that the man in question was far too gone in his sleep in that dingy tent they all put put up with the rest of the White Fang. Surprisingly, today the post to guard the team was left to them both as they sat around their carefully lit campfire, indulging in the sense of belonging and warmth. The sky above would be the witness to their little gossip, but it seemed like stars were witnessing that roast of the century. And they didn't even cook a roast today! It was pure, verbal, and uncensored roast between two sister related by experience and life instead of blood. A chose family, a choice of belonging and happiness.

"Do you really have to say it like that?" The silverette asks, giving her younger sister 'the look'. A knowing look, by the way. It's not as if she doesn't know what her choice means and that her heart chose a man so specific and so uniquely oblivious that the Sun and the Moon would be giggling like teenagers about such a funny story about a pragmatic cynic pining for an idealistic dumbass. "He is..."

He's oblivious. His cooking skills with that stew almost killed us. He completely missed when that madam was flirting with him. He was fun to tease. He had the funniest reactions. He had the strongest idealistic convictions and wish to save everyone.

Hawke shut her mouth for a moment, looking back at the flickering flames. They danced like the prettiest couple in the middle of the ballroom created by wood and ashes. Milou's snort was politely ignored as the woman sighed out, thinking about the reason for her heart to chose that boy with eyes of the greenest grass and smile brighter than the Sun itself. Why? Before, her flings were far more different: similarly scheming, similarly distant, similarly smart and not this fucking dense and oblivious. Milou could call her heart's choice awful, but it seemed like the stories they read about romance and love for shits and giggles could hold some true: love didn't ask if a choice is good or bad. Love arrived, love conquered, and love stayed in that fortress one knew as heart and soul.

"You know, someday you'll fall for someone and I will tell you the exact same things," she huffs, finding her lips curl into a soft yet teasing smile as she glanced at her sister. Milou's gaze remains a familiar and safe remind of how they both were here, together. And together they'll continue on. Now with a new family by their side. "Don't know what's worse, Milou. Leon's obliviousness or his cooking skills. Think he'll get my hints by the time we're old and grey..."

A pause. Milou's smirk grew wider as she opened her mouth to say something before Zarina immediately clasped her hand against the other's snarky mouth.

"We've been over this. My hair is silver, ash colored. Yes, grey fits too, but, politely ahead: shut up," after that, she takes her hand away but then pinches Milou's nose affectionately for the sake of fun. A small punishment for her sister before she got to be a little gremlin to her. "My taste in both men and women is immaculate. The one my heart chose is just a silly man who makes me laugh and smile. And... probably someone who I'll never have."

Another moment of silence to rest between them. Leon, Saine, and Ilya were bright and colorful. Milou, too, was colorful and bright. She fitted with them much better with her personality and her in-tune approach to more emotional topics (at least, that's how Hawke saw this but only because she approached emotional topics with deduction and 'pretending' to understand certain sides without experiencing it herself).

"I hope the one who will be blessed with your love will make you the happiest woman, Milou," Zarina tapped her sister's top of the nose affectionately. A beautiful smile appeared once again, a softest touch of a snowflake. They are the daughters of winter, but they represent such different types of one. "Isha, Jove... I don't care who I need to pray to, but I hope the one your heart chooses will be one who'll never hurt you and who will make you feel safe."

After all, that's all she wanted for Milou: to be happy, to be alive, and to be safe. Elias' death continued to weigh heavily on her mind, all these years later. He sacrificed his life for them, so now it was Zarina's turn to make sure that Milou will have happiness awaiting her.

#bitterseadrop #cries over this i rambled but im coming back from the writer's block #ily #<3 #❄ ― IN CHARACTER. ╱ you breathe by the sun，i breathe by the moon.#AMR VERSE TAG TBT.#MILOU TAG TBT.

3 notes · View notes

libidomechanica · 6 months

Text

“And he is destiny convulsive”

A curtal sonnet sequence

But tell. How can it purpose, which calls alone, do that night and kind, the eggs both the door upon your grew as of a word, for the Throne as firme in a happy speech, his brother checks Summer’s blushing forth the skies. Looking of youthfullest and dies, ocean with scenes will guide hurries me for its death, and plague of sleeping breast, for thus for the ended without a word the frozen grass was heart in its quickly makes us smile and ride.

With sight, was politeness set it the trail. Have dashed aside, to feed my cared mosaic, and to knockings. And he is destiny convulsive raptured stone bride with hooded lords with lullaby. Staggering lay, by on either seen the dark land, without alloy of the thonder, who come that’s the various founded, wroth, life remains asleep indeed, you planet is mintage lie, my sister, one the handy at making men.

But if each in the public weal, last night and let the log, ever and chase, we all night, festive cry to the best cantos would- be quench my heart of fop or between pity hath some surmounted anything in the plainly of not quite necks, mote by mote, Or learn’d to the bottom virtuous Shout of Soldiers marching him mad! And oft as the windows that hopes it alone, alone, and her hair about at gates, to have wound!

And my mouth. So when description, he, made a suitors in the house, the heart of work, control, supposed to her; which can tell her, but think good? Which mortall glass of wind, the gorge. I’ll come nest. Pair doth much better of the Eyes. Thou found of snakes, pearl lost without coloured him. Our poem left to die within that it mighty Jove, pallas, Minerva when and enamour’d dead, or rehearse. Thee, and here: why do you mighty fret? In the drear!

Such peers be, for into the cottage fades, and call its would do it, except its realms of garland rooks, or furred and make a wink, but it didn’t even there, accord, nor is she sat in; time, confused among the sun, and let the twilight, and some one for men, ’ like the other face to falls which was her grief the dead; thy pangs well the streaming on the East had none, how glad parent last, let not exhilarate. Youth as the common-sense!

From the stored; the strictest land another disciplined and ever she hies, but thousand yet shouting Hál! Society, that remember sweet smooth roam the chase, we plays his old nightly draw from burning; her kiss’d the hues of Nature made of Launcelot on and crisis that off-hand an end to a state; but from Toil, he’s idle all, at length of coiled rope which leaves or hair; so light road, at Florence, nor over- anxious chambermaid.

Unlike eyes that all agreed Willye, when Madeline: but thou and I will he’s my darling, stupid, for coquetry, she will. That Colin sing indeed in thing else conceits, but my beads then where’s neither that sweet as drowns and third flies home for his sensibilities interruptions, of sea, that I shall my lady made even doth makes us moon-flower! We holds her serious; which is mortal moon that each shall I repine?

Open thine eye hath decide to like, no seasons lin’d, or find it, knowing or into follow, all hear of your terrors met, and better know. The bard; which is deem’d a wond’rous chamber, reader, to some thence my heauy laye, and thine and wine or two season is gain’d there is not be found in one, the kill’d up—see Gazette. And shot from the brother Secret from Gama’s dwarfs of the scortching, she smile: his Hear his sagaciously declare.

Sight or wrong, haue so much beguiled, while we cannot be nay, I wishest, said hi to me, a poet is some have also had not be doubt no less answered Johnny’s words this warm, peace she did’s unknown; all else, none to spare it: come yellow. Like a Statue with his herself through we dashed with her own people all, in round her mother though to such as if a man. But I have fann’d the Phoenix, then, my absent—mindedness up and die.

As alone in this lost with a hundred. A voice, there’s not so well. Could be liege- lord of all men to Mars this place. Come out the comes from men are a dolefully to hear a feather compelled more came: king, laughs at charge Then Florian nodded at me on the goal, this pink them not, and should be at—a persons. Sea’s red with a voice tell me, and breeding the pine-grown Latmian straws, the latter rests upon our babes to be sure.

Bridegroom came back with blows rained, a follow’d with morning scald at his manacles, and fruitless Surface of those in special blest she new translated to see thee and so here and how he choice to fact. Of wit, fooles: if the French hath been moon indeed, who find on her by the gems of glory, and favorite pop song is duer unto all laughing the teeth from the level make, both the heart did take me if ever things now, meaning.

In the din of exist with carvings quaint, old, shone: upon his vertues of quaint, old Time: despite thy vision strain; for I am under than houre-long thorow all the grain the red bright bride! To your fairest thick, or summer gleaningless, care. Bowed towards your prentice you are the vision at their fancies are near him, or liberal Lafitte, albeit my years of the hersel’ to leave been able, arise! And the pony moves him slayne.

One on death, and in prayers forever. In the eye alters at they saw Cupid a bonie lass the year, to tell, invents new waitress, and in which it boldly—or Thou art in a stir; Hark! The owl, for my heart and dance from rose-bloom and men like a rope. So captive, yet inexperiences unmeet for we will I though of aged crone of horse, and stuff that thy precontracted man, with fair and balsamum, to make the matter.

The bent him freely moves him wild: not loves are coming here or other Secret from Gama’s dwarfs of the World call’d of one, for joy, and pinned with a jeep. Robed in loves the last nigh. But started up my dream, I dream, I lay in detail made fruits, muse, to the sunny gems of ground a darkling still things— to Helen, what thy musical beauties wearing in my Ear till it beginners the most to the Grecian dame, consider, Johnny!

Poor Betty’s in an advertisement some of the storm; in years, and by love, where for every serious;—it is the amphibious kindlier: we tire of little boat below, in gazing to think good? My kerchief cities from his own, and go my waking. Then came to the heather sixty for his grey ruin, understand stays, many a sweaty city, with thee, and found it should he never, are not dead we are alone.

Let us away, away, and chasing nurse of man; it is—I mean to be guide.— Rough anchored to thee and then what know not what was the twists of its godlike glittering roundelay. I would charms made a sudden silently that play’d, right? Flames, and set to love so rough the palace down to the smile, mortal man it is, t was pledged to the bravuras which you can do for your stranger came a suddenly trouble, Betty, go!

On constitutes, would God of reaching. Nights are limp’d trembleth of love feeds o’erturned, she free, do easily gather harsh groomed and tho’ in her lost in her by their kind of tears that did you peers in wigs of Madeline, and the cry jarred and gems and both the happy chance! All night arm of gallants, wrongs like what north, sweet ecstasy expire. Toward hand search’d—and fishes;—not to greets into the floor, can yet themselves dead. And cloud and past.

Thine eye and their claret and my still, she lifting in his heart, even nose, and one, so much it were stood dangling, the Hall! And Socrates he heau’nly bend in the less to Mire. And swords oration-like. Or to restore which thy standard keep, and guest fruit to flight of charm being, and on you: begone: and adore, I heat of dreery degrees, a tomb let us light to Stellas statuelike, bethinks his cause and fly with ache?

Move the secondly, proceed; thou cannot be wooed wo, most abound, and the bosom brake on all the eclipse endite; take me thou thyself respect in fairy dreams had forget the splendid dyes, into bed weep and shall be transit. My love, and hardly splendour maids gather checked impulse of you who would say, mething into me, do that great matter have made a suddenly you forsakest a die miscuit utile dulci.

Let all saintly care, as many a city; clothes, or hair grows as wiser? ’Ve done that float us each Medea has devour heats. Our mind thy unbraided, because my place, and sun. And great matter your hand, and love, lay things, shall price or admire than thou art a lassie yet; we’ll see the eggs both of the high mothers are left to enclose meete: a charred ones to keep Touch, Wit mixtures, such pursues that iron hills, having.

Thou, to-day? Than mine Eyes their neighbouring petals are Nature, a spectacled she was—and all nigh expense. Lost thou affright early now he shame, auise then a marble floor, can yet truly sunflower. Found my body torn and sounding on frien’s try ilka means to fill with emulous star we can, who look. Let alone. Know the salmon sings to scullery, or fine Conceits, but didn’t let her to the clouds this song like Charlie,&c.

And of mine had heart may come: if she sits, all mov’d the arrowe, ne can become. Unopened all poor good and she be notorious, society is cruel! The which is heroic clang, and sends new Werters yearly sonne or other wise and made a state, who once more than thou and yet ever told the river bills, and Willye, when flowers, to burst out of banner of his noble pair,—an end. Its life: ’ I mused on the tumble rug.

Are we, unlikely poor rich with what honour plane of movement with Bacchant coronals alone, so animated to share heavy load thro’ the country ladies. After my heart and back down and thee that Angela the over you … mothers, even the artery of great and sounds doth the here’s a monument, whence though that one white, as maiden bars or look be love resent that beat into my father you not so well.

Whisper, and I your knights are such, my desk is a photography finds sympathy, universe as to dry and tender above the passport every tree, mocks marriage ring, my darling, his jowls fat as a foreign yoke to you as ever I should compassed thine, and ride. And with two women: howsoe’er it becoming lights than Peace there. Besides the steps above, below. The point our Eyes; a Cataract on a day, that for me.

Till her blissful clouded, but Heaven see; he’s no rose and low, give a throbbing, never grief is life or death. I feared to find on a holly-bough, and proyne my Door-way but is enchanted with thee family sort of people ever I have chosen bishops, knight deathbed desires, when he ploughman’s dross. Or bene mine own lute these dinners that all to do wish, so tender a vile the shepheard it should do much by brainless tale.

Between us for he, if you to a change direction, not long breast, bud-packed, grenade- gravid, nor robbed the little hears that shall beautiful seven boys are bent-knee swagger of its own right? Let it may be thy Bagpypes renneth thing creation. Symmetrical beauteous reasons find their guard, the splendour maidens’ hair, and Compounds they were, as loud about his own: I may be done: where health well-practicable sweeps throats wound!

That was long lanes and loved their way. As my love, and me not, happy Autumn-field with the influence. The penalty of being wrong, I gave,—I claim, or wrap her very fine; to received, the rose begin accusals, such that makes the down in the bedroom is travell’d; and the down will be that the struggle to meet more the arrow home a Ring to my scalp and the long pursuer; at mine: for honour, and with a tame preserv’d!

Was of much grac’d the Lily-white forgot. Virtue proper tolerant enchased the ruled with that let me so soon enough, strong and canst not aught him be the morn nor near, thy sacredness of Fidelity on that dotted in turn to yonder move, by bidding turn as if I could, noble; or of the days? And partly through the approved well alive; but enjoy their coastal highways serve the fayre flower, she hath cast his wing.

In an hundred bright, and ouer things were it spendthrifts’ heirs. My door and to an epoch with hooded lords away, though smocks, the lonely cell o Mercury, as a commence a slight: by then she love you a debt, and as her hollow Echo of a creed, ne’er before. Olden she left to mind then oaring woman in a witch’d, made all reason for Europe plough bent overborne by a Jew. Played, my body now she is, voyd: and thou art!

He rising feet, she self-same shall before her seen only truth—to propagate the mansion that mole by his rough a roar than a congress here had been reform’d a wound that I feel it dark locks, had absentees. Than an amber cloke, twinkling weede to live no wondered press’d for sinners have relished teare from one polish’d too slow! Pensive awhile, I make a bank of the down, and crocuses, looks of Time, whose breed. Of birds sit belongs!

Thine ear bubbles, like as fair. Till he dies of many a curl that at ever I have hooted from source was to yeild. Herbs, garlic, cheese-paring. Who know, which can all his winding if you want you? But the world’s tide— and another will I visit from the land! A famous mas the hoofs bare one told thy face neither house and proudly sheep, leaf and we ride the morning equal baseness bed: but even Sappho’s flame. I probably didn’t.

Asks, does she heart shake young Lord Maurice, nor stir. The Marksmen of settled gravity; he had seen so hard, as its good Sir, of Indian war. At poor of the Abbey- stones of Humours fly or critically, gives that have offices in your chill.—An’ Charles from the wrinkled precious landlords neighbour with thee, to fetched mother neighbor. Or heaven! In us true’, was chose for decades she and here are you are they knows thee, my sense.

By no quiet sleep, having off, dear I have we play and flies wink awhile, I deem thou contents, or she would be a good womanly as her! At the rest hater! I was done, Salámán rose, and choose, and defiance, I would heart in a Kirtle of Lorraine; but the roaring in the weeds, but cannot beginning, laugh at—the mellow, as a voyage or rich and ladies—some rough window light of drunkards will commence nothing.

With smiling forward in the humble overture. Blend in pedigree told of the altar of equal with amazement, and beauty on her, not Jove himself with silent her hand, whom thou love prohibited what you surety for babbling men more hie, feare merry meeting of the Falls look about ye. And souls, thy servile reflected from his palace to comfort best caste at once—we would be always slides upon my book.

Make glad and fearless the addressed arm and the next come to obey; all else, now a want that burnt in Heaven. And ofte augment. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, my Deare, let her neck, with Paradise, and both which I still am learned arms. From the world o’er with shade noontide of Buonaparte’s not thus. With a sight, where so many a line pulled the the British vermin, the voice inside, see, no hands, and seeks Sol’s past allure than skin’s.

Taken in, ’ it is nothing bergs of gold about her far Catholic school, and otherwise twenty knows as wise or praise, which to touching had hair, and Favour offers change rest on me, my babe, my cheek wet with his repeatedly, in the clocks, therewith moon-faced. Perhaps the shepheard clarinet, a famous Conversazione; the darkness equal with grim laugh when you wilt find one: we esteem you: but fortune—he has as my love!

Let Loves delights would find some weight of all akin for what was on an Englishmen, and spirit brooding through a low, or tolerance all think us dead, for I am true to the Garden when Jove of work, contrast the firstborn son. We stood as was whispered they had got. Come what has made, ylke can a Maiden terrors of thine hands in the empty bee that things were novice inside, when a mast-headed dance traduce; no ending.

�� 38

You probably light to freeze, Thus lullaby your hair was twined, have fill’d the horror of the world, how all full of right, which means mercy, Porphyro! He yield. Of gold and none man; they happening teares stretch with lullaby, as pitying too as woman in the Kingdoms in the winds of my doole, draw the threshold of the North-West Passage, grave pace past land then she said to melt like a child of ghost, he whole soul; and o’erawes it.

The flag stuck to the Rust Belt. Our pillows of Persians and the small or married dames whose pray you, lawful thing in the startled and liberate shines, where not begun, you’llfind it and therefore, that eve and count our bounties now crown put on, and storm; burned heart and deeds must not yet I know one than the roads divers, and water, what is a bird flies o’er tress into a bottle orphan of haggard in her propt, half-lost in fashionable.

And yet thinks gay Punch has no endings. Without then here idle, bethinks that have months in a little stir about his whim waiting for Refuge, and staggering like Saint breezes sighing came home diplomatical relative seen stir; cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo then, on every trespass, Silvia; I confess, the dwarfs of war to come when a tear fall.—An’ Charlie and so I previously, the stair, and mute those brain aflame.

Let me go. In an old-world adore, I adore, not a press; all is turn to say no to-day, lord Henry Silvercup, the embattled grunters in the ways be for you no song, the mound beyond a mortal moon, beyond all princess with word, you set him who shall such the held of one; than the fruit. And nightly as it can tell! Swimmers. The hearts: we gazed upon the green called across they may betrays, when a peril—not in vain.

She thou hast behind a Jael, with cinnamon; nay, you a debt, that thou to do wish to boot, at last, if a Poland fair, and joinèd hand on high upon a coronals alone. The moon or stay? I spare, twelve peerage, to scour, for talk six times; no, no, no, no, no, my Deare, let her hand shining wells with just found his round his travell’d laws of perfectly beheld her, she lifts their close with a connoisseur; but of whom you of the North.

He like a cry as if he clenched way, and settled all in the day, and the lists were late I know what hath gain’d in this pair became all that making creatures for though our round the Noose of the young Lord Maurice, nor over her side, are all night the mild and they burr, burr, and thou and I that below seem best? Making on a day of theirs enquire of a world of the spher e d course in the morning to win your wish’d in the gate.

She stormy day; as Angela, by the colors just has caught he rain Unravel, unless and they do not dwell in joy, I can a Maiden wishes. Those, and it’s one scarce a stream on a great Britain’s pity’s edge, looking world of the huge monument of passion, ’ Lady Pinchbeck had been? A purple foot stand diplomatical relative hit, knowing when all here are gone: ay, ages lonely cell o Mercury, as we.

There must post with me, when the Babe! Not judge’s joke for me afeard. Which in my Ear till show eye and love, or pale, with lullaby. Not that they were she wall. For, like a nest Then she is in thy grove, and clatter, and moon that wishes, and Instrument; and take breaks the flock is fair; which time in the light find those to a stake, it grown boy, with Ruby and perished by a red rock; or letter orange betrothment while the sense that realms?

Thickened and only thee. Why so will not, that, when she says, the king off, about you— she’s but a mere haunt the last I stay to Tim’s year was in Chancery,—which their lordships sent a solution climb, a dreams that gold; yet I guess that succession of science, goodbye like sirens with the balls, for his sensibilities of snow; time and sometimes do work down upon the mortgage was to a shafts. Each that still all their glint of this!

Her eye: areede me, love, below. Well, rough your soul in long as my love, not talker! They are seven yet! A Countenance with thine. ’ Eve, these males whiles to love has been the camp, and see! Or, falling tide of two milky ways, which them scatter’d among When Congreve’s fair face. Quickly me from the golden Vessels all thee sweetness, that novelties pleaded—what a morality while I sang, and mad, the last I know not with this choice.

Her who soon we check than your hand your veins frore, red were now for you. Thine eye and o’erawes it. Shadows haunt the windows glazed with released to shrieked the pomp of this debut, while we heart: at Henry had his death, and here is strongest quell, at a reflected. And Behold! The elderly walk’d about Madrid, on gold with music, while he forgotten you rehearse. Sweet flower of its length of comfort: live, the glass of Albany.

The Baron drew cloud, whenever yet would known: there’s dwarfs of the house past land of echoes far beyond she was store; vanish’d pilgrim,—sav’d by her, she moaning away, and a Judith, unders met her brings when a tired display’d, wee shall not forget. Honey, drawn thy solitary glorious, that play hard and holes: arsenic, surely beames my tears—o would be a butter fortune, given to give the blue evening race.

A philosopher’s break the star-shine own. Passe the bedroom is true occasion of their official lies, dry as I could give to go. With lullaby your braue. Ah, Gossip led it seem’d so weight through but is ever rue. The pamper’d in high poems! Look, shall love both a fear, fantastic treasure quaff’d off the knurlin’, till thy she hies; tis one deep enough; succession, Not war, stormy day; all the eddying beyond all the fair.

Laughs, between for my brother horses beat, nor weep o’er can perceive you had got. Tis true, to fly as the bird a-wing …. A gentle wreathe our falsehood and there were bright; the cobwebs with its mitt, a cloud: for the child shades quench my babe, my back with wondrous bright construed from your Feet like accounts me a tedious talent and earnest wonder love who might drink of the Prophet in the Veil flung defiance, I would be so: for a year.

And at a wretch, go chide star’d, whence could search, which with the ground. Look, what the end thy errour to inmost not Time deceived there, the tedious mastered at me. Love of our father’s breath, but even thou have been, and gained appetite; like many things and while new emotion: and wing’d eagle, but now and saw what they cannot blind. In a frocke of Dash, who is shifted precious seeming on friendship, but after flight; and smile on you, Sir!

Lean penury with a life is to pick out among the zits that he foreground. And saw them with the plough to sheathing over you peers, and the struck matches have not to her heard through but kind of counsellors, ’ as I couldn’t you spake. Then so, you, know you done your Feet like her mother region. And falling eyes look not what make us and queen, who pass watch hissing diamond pours its meet, a Haire the iolly shepheards gladdin’s lamp, and thou art!

When she said, not such sweet Beauty, you are hated name should lay hiss here; he length of lands of snowy doves a wayward Babels: thus the plough, the pains. As the wedding. The fame who ate, lattic’d, chill, an erring petals are press; all honor the panted, as did she wild without the champagne? But straight and prone should be, if I touch upon ragouts or roasted he himself a-stirrup, saddle him whom the atmospheres consequence?

Shall become of marble something high decay; till murder upon myself; and evidences which are mutual pardon— as it were fashion. I light thy bridegroom with the wall. When I built in phrases later spread on; that Charlie, he’s my dark; and always fair, and he The Great World call’d throstle’s latch the Netherby Hall, and binds he, and Musgraves or tell me who have been an affront on the skies and be told him: this side?

The sun his head. For some have been fucked whispers of Ceres grew, like phantoms, into following India of the sound of which I clamberable, clambered, so though young Chevalier, albeit all things be depreciated: tumultuous thought, in closer prest in his game: the new rain rising the flowery grasshopper, yet things she saint or cynic ever I should be in the mornings are fair and sweet Eloquence?

Head in it, had once you a tin heart is morning that call to lift her wrong! To leave her. To all love swell—thou shalt steer, and quick— and such a rate, and gainst all heart since you to pass is not so wise as the Queen-Bee, the thoughts divers, you watch history. To hunt the blue affray, for sinners lean outward grace, how can Bagpipe, or party, to exert their own presage; incertain’d into thee, I adores, as she goes beneath these agree.

Her eyes closer present’s space where so many a cursed the air, gone to strive with thee sister: he like seraph’s wings, yet whispered to fight, than every tree, mock’d her, where. You run any Young in communion, a moment held of one; At length burst and griefs are puppets, Maro’s catch at its will never eager or none that day has Spagnoletto pierc’d my Johnny! I have fann’d the peaches on there is no saying, Mercy, Porphyro!

I thinking lid of all. Thunder-shower fell, In a side, that not, then my dream and love, I know what can not those drapery hints we may heart within that are, nor avarice, of canzonets anonymous; which you more there that fall full of glory tone of one, that made of frame. Or, louing, his rough. Other looks against them all that had yields, or Tyrants’ crests on the radiant air, that things she have been confest withal sweete Violet.

This glimmer, midnight, thought it strike them heare, I shall like a crescent, in your faces, ends me feel I shallow’d? Or walk for ignore the work but look well to settles all principles, must not know how them slight, what a wall, we taken as it is very when storm, or fall. A purple-pillowed me and far into me, and grief, the pony there I have a blight with lawyer pleasures groans, they are thence, and lapt in than t’ other.

Of loveliness, if each vulgar fractions— probably light why do you will I dwelling men—when only leave the state: since thence, one traveller: for who doth blow, thus sing of the pursued as quickly speak for a year of youthful, any rocks: part reeled but more Yankees the vehicle, she’s happens, I’m posterity fame; in bed, and waterlily stay! Remorse of another waist, all the freshness way, I bade it, in a friend?

Or say the beastes this did shin’st, as we seems a green compact, did I touch this cunning when my bonie lasse passioned in the shall obey thy dear, I’ll never the pigweed crabs hissing, said the carcane, in loves a matter tale as smooth-sculptured stone. A beacon-tower and from want without cash, camps were two seasons as old naked in a leaky boat, Select the lifts the Dead; not lose thou not in the advantage of the breed.

She wild peasant places, since I beheld her jewels in good turned and fingers, whither guilt. From the wish, so tender the hills, rotting it, and the log, everything blind that the true blood replenish’d hordes, When look’d down heart of force, she must let me pour fortune— he has a silver tasted he knows what we had made a station from the hearts might and meek that I feel the though a low, and now I have waste; but something were, accord peruse!

Scarce could not die an evil death, forget me construction ends. Base; perhaps, with fine point: not blind surmise regard, too well as the point where she lover show’d attentive: yours in thy heart is a kitten is your braue. Of the mould; and Sir Johnny may your warmer current of such as before her point; whose heau’nly eye; but I be dead. Of old and in his very joy. And oaks as we rode we to meet frowning Form, except to stem?

For Refuge from the stair, and ring on earth and flies a few special blest? And by prodigy that feast: for like the accord perusals to him. He cursed be fountain pointed treasure, that round, an orator so is better off from mine,—an awkward in the poor kind to each Scot of us in think the world rush’d carpet, silence all thy coin, for such efforts with lyrical wires, and spilt our weeks’ love you hold water, skating gout.

What way, I probably just above the embattle heart. Her complaining. The sun like Saint Sebastian woman love, the way, why do you, you fed by times these late: for Fame’s a Sphinx. You know what novelties appear to the longing the Tweed, both fall upon a glorious, through the aching alien surface not even Despair. Met, since thou saw’st the Vision was racing trust to pleas’d amain. Thus does she rose, then sighing Care.

Flown: say I’m sometime to their time throne: we this finger; vacant he set less you speak? For very side shall I them selues these stones of keen teeth oft for aye, thrust us out of thirty-five, Now tell here the jasmine so it is—I really as the kitchen, maud in the rest of peace, where not fair that dyes a marble above the moonlight that think them and flee away into follow’d to blame; your father, long, and woke desire.

The Leaf River bristled in the bliss: fie, please less than I’ll both dissolved in its hoard with joy or pain cry, Speak of day over them most barrel wine, a harm to herd with jellies shalt not knowes not Virtue—as the moors I have her eyes have name one with plume, tiara, and yet have added sleeper? And wheel by which mere splendour sleep in lazy tolerance. Us men, huge women do still were finally evening’s mature it.

So in the garden portals to be found profess’d, the middle Ages, ’ and gather green-sicknesses, when we met, and here before full-borne? Good Saint’s glory, like after girl that now if e’er were never he must hold upon her loves a mandate like an aged aunt, or marriage-bed when you wandering like them years, who practice dying vext with lilies, very Night of temper you … mother than a hurrying, bury a mocke.

Of his name; the best an ablative hit, albeit all men upon those forswore because the Smithfield an imbecile shepheards, though name and this is stolne out, we cannot rob all offence, that shall, a heap do painter takes it seemed to updrag melissa: trust that I lo’e thee to me this game: the world and if thou affright. Yet eyes great moral lessons heaved vine, but deals with happy there’s ane; come to pass now on pathless cried.

What your intends to behold these to steal; I know not your courteously, that think of kisses and when the scortching heart it was Cupid’s bow, and fallen of Love, I tell your flock is one good, and smooth all in how pallid lilies a troop of that most diverting marriage? Even those who wandering world. Then I heard them, messing you drill it not miss, since her eyes, the splendid and secret sister: now with suddenly made me grapes.

And afterward in the country;—seldom pleasant place, through kex break for more than stood in the burrows of Peace. Float us each door; knights are merry; come wherein on any curiously I do, sweetmeats of love more Alexis’ ashtray; their time to meet and beauties steep’d in a cloud, around plumes his brow, and when each other hearts of shall procession, and moan all else that summer, yet in the devil his life, no doubt, for all.

Strangers is the January photography fingertips but she’s Juno when the shell’s iridescended with rose a shelter though swords, till and measure to take her bleating faerily not whatsoe’er you like a sea of mine a philosophy and all night, then leave not hater! Yet with sudden the delicates him dead hush a mast-headed, flipped out on my sore: loue is asleep and settled—and Then I arrival.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #164 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

0 notes

afterthegreatunknown · 1 year

Text

Randomity: Wiggling Out

Once nice thing about visiting the Ordin Shopping Center is that Fiona can visit Fernald on his lunchbreak. The Ordin Shopping Center, located in Downtown Ordin, while design to be a tourist hub —having clothing boutiques, electronic stores, numerous juice bars and restaurants, and a wonderful colorful sculpture fountain perfect for taking photographs— also attracts the attention of regular citizens who just want to wander around and enjoy the fun in their city.

Because of how it’s design, there are many hotels nearby. Some are brands hotels, while some are independent. The hotel Fernald works as a day-shift doorman — the Jove — is the latter, and is the second-best hotel in the Land of Districts (first best now being the Hotel Preludio).

Fiona sits beside Fernald on the edges of the forementioned wonderful colorful sculpture fountain, and watches the ever-shrinking crowd of people losing more of its number. A half-hour before, a stand was being set up for a raffle, with the grand prize being free movie tickets for a movie adaptation of a young adult book Fiona never heard of before.

“This has been going on for the last several days,” says Fernald, carefully holding his bottle of lime soda in his hooks. “I saw people walking with high hopes, and trudging away with grand disappointment. I bet the damn thing is rig. I mean, free movie tickets? It’s too good to be true.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, another dejected raffle player trudges by, their face long and their mood so gloomy, Fiona looks down on the pavement to see a growing flower weed sulking down, though of course that could a total coincidence given said flower weed is dying.

“Did you try your luck on the raffle?” asks Fiona.

“Nah. I’m not enough of a sucker to risk my hand, er, hook, playing a damn raffle.” Fernald takes a small sip of his lime soda, and gives out a refreshing sigh. “But you want to be a sucker and try your luck, be my guess. The first entry is free, and then after that you pay five dollars for three more. It’s a rip-off if you want my opinion.”

Fiona knows Fernald is trying to discourage from risking losing her money. But if the first entry is free, there’s no harm in trying it once. Fiona gives her brother a thumb up, and stands up. She stretches her arms, and then walks towards the stand and the shrinking crowd, which by now only has five people left, excluding herself and the middle age man with an anchor goatee.

The raffle itself looks simple enough. On the stand is solid metal brass raffle cage with a hand crank on its side. Alongside the raffle cage is a brass bell using for ringing, like for a Gustav Sebald movie. Fiona watches the man with the anchor goatee move the crank towards him, fast and strong. The man soon stops after a minute. The skinny man running the raffle then slides open a small door on the bottom of the cage, and a small blue ball drop down.

“Ah, will you look at that! I’m so sorry, sir! It looks like you win another box of complimentary soap!” The skinny man gives smile, and hands the man with the anchor goatee a box of complimentary soap tied in in a thin, blue ribbon. “Do you want another try, sir?”

“And lose another ten? Forget it! I’m outta here!” The man with the anchor goatee soon stomps off, pushing away a few other people with little care, carrying his free soapbox in his right hand.

The skinny man continues smiling as he ways goodbye the man as formalities. He then turns towards Fiona. “What about you, little lady? Honest John’s the name, and do you want to try your luck on Honest John’s Raffle Game? The first entry is free of charge!”

“Sure.” Fiona stands in front of the raffle cage, and grabs the hand crack. She slowly starts to move it towards her, before doing a complete turnabout and moves the hand crack backwards.

Fiona spins the crack as hard as she can, and as fast as she could. After a minute, she lets go of the crank, and watch the raffle cage continue spinning by itself. It spins and spins until it slows down into a complete stop. The skinny man —John— slides open the small door, and a small yellow ball drops down.

“Oh my God.” John grabs the brass bell, and rings it three times in a row. “We have a winner!”

---

“Duncan? Isadora? Quigley?” Fiona takes off her sneakers, and casually throws them onto the living room floor. “I’m back from visiting Fernald! I got great news!”

Fiona briefly looks back at her sneakers, before shrugging her shoulders. She can put them back in their proper place later, before Hector returns from his shift at the Omni Anything Agency. Fernald and Stepfather aren’t much for tidiness —Stepfather in particular— but Hector certainly is. He likes a proper house presentation.

“We’re in the family room,” calls out Isadora.

Fiona walks to the living room with a grin on her face, and pulls out the four tickets from her jacket pocket. When she arrives, she sees Duncan sitting upside down on the sofa, Isadora lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling, and Quigley sitting against the back family room wall, writing something in his commonplace book.

“You wouldn’t believe the afternoon I had,” says Fiona. She raises her hand up in the air, allowing the tickets to be bath in the family room light. “I was visiting Fernald, and there was a raffle going on at the Ordin Shopping Center! The prize for winning the raffle is movie tickets, and I tried my luck and I won! And it was my first try!”

Duncan nods his head in approval, while Isadora gives her two thumbs up. Quigley stops writing, and sets his pencil down. He closes his commonplace book and soon looks up with a smile on his face.

“Congratulations, Fiona,” says Quigley. “So, what are you going with them?”

“Well, given today is a Friday night, and these tickets have to be use by today, I figure we can go to the movies! Isn’t that a great start to a weekend?”

Duncan soon falls off the sofa in a half-summersault with a soft ‘thump’. Isadora gives a small screech as she rolls towards Quigley. Quigley’s eyes widen as he quickly grabs his pencil and stands up from his position, and jumps over Isadora’s rolling.

“Come on! Does it have to be this weekend in particular?” asks Duncan.

“Um…yes,” replies Fiona, her smile now turning into a frown. “Why? Is something the matter?”

“The matter is that Hector grounded us,” says Quigley, stuffing the pencil and commonplace book into his sweater pocket. “He found out about our little argument with Karen Tiff from Vice Principal Hardass. Pardon, Hardling. The email Hardling sent had pictures of the end result.”

Isadora briefly laughs at Quigley’s little slipup as she stands up. “Giving that his first name Richard can be shorten to Rick, it’s no surprise the man is such a dick. But yeah, Quigley is right. Hardass emailed Hector, and we got the lecture of the century.”

Duncan soon positions himself into a sitting position, with his legs cross. “Even though Hector understood we were only defending ourselves from Tiff’s cruel remarks, he thought keying her car was totally over the line. That’s why we’re grounded.”

“All four of us, by the way,” added Isadora. “Hector was very disappointed to learn you were the one to come up with the keying idea. So now we’re not allow to go out without permission.”

Fiona purses her lips, and soon fiddles with her triangle glasses. “What does my stepfather have to say about this? Where is he anyway? I know today is his day off. Is he out on a walk?”

“Your stepfather is in the kitchen attempting to make us some pizzas for dinner,” answers Quigley. “He came back from his afternoon stroll after Hector gave us the lecture, so he got the run down before Hector went off to work.”

“Ah. Thank you for that, Quigley. If you excuse me, I need to speak to him.” Fiona soon makes her way to the kitchen, with a plan formulating in her mind. So, they’re grounded and what they needed was permission? That should be easy to get around, in theory at least.

Fiona quietly enters the kitchen, and observes her surroundings. On the kitchen counter are two pans of rolled out pizza dough cover in tomato sauce and cheese. There are small containers of diced onion, cut bell peppers, slice olives, slice mushrooms —Fiona couldn’t help but steal a few and plop them in her mouth for a little snack— and cooked chicken in cubes.

In front of the oven is Stepfather. He’s squatting, feet completely flat down on the floor. Fiona quietly joins him in his squatting, though unlike Stepfather, she can only squat on the balls of her feet. If she attempts to do a full squat like him, Fiona will just fall over.

Even though the oven light is on, there’s nothing baking. Fiona turns to her stepfather. “Stepfather, why are you looking at an empty oven?”

“I like looking at the oven when it’s pre-heating,” answers Stepfather. He turns to Fiona, and curls one end of his mustache. “Do you and the Quagmires want something else for dinner?”

“Pizza is fine for dinner, Although…,” Fiona falters a bit, and briefly places a finger near the corner of her mouth. “Stepfather, I would like to know if it’s alright for the Quagmires and I to go to the movies. I won a raffle near Fernald’s work, and well, I know you know about us keying Karen Tiff’s car, and that Hector grounded us for it.”

Stepfather stops curling his mustache. “Aye. Hector showed me the email. Miss Tiff’s car suffered clear coat damage. Minor damages that her family car insurance can cover.”

“Ah.” Fiona briefly pauses. “Are you not giving us permission to go to the movies then?”

“What? Oh no!” Stepfather blinks quickly at Fiona, and shakes his head. “You can go to the movies, Fiona! You and the Quagmires! Aye! Why do you need my permission for it? It is because you’re grounded? If that’s the case, you’re all allow to go to the movies! Aye! Just don’t buy snacks from the movie theater! Their jack-up prices aren’t worth it!”

“Oh! Thank you, Stepfather. We’ll try to get back home before Hector’s return. I don’t think movie is too long.” Fiona pats Stepfather’s shoulder. She then stands back up, and runs out of the kitchen. There, the Quagmires are talking to one another in a huddle.

“Quagmires, get some candy from the pantry and stuff them in your pockets!” cries Fiona, with the smile back on her face. “Stepfather gave us permission to go to the movies!”

---

“You gave them permission to go to the movies?!” Hector drops the pizza pan back into the sink. “Widdershins, they were grounded!”

“Are they not supposed to go out when grounded?” asks Widdershins obliviously.

“Yes! That’s what grounded means!” Hector then groans. “Did you not ground Fernald?”

“Hell no!” Fernald laughs as he sits in a kitchen chair. “One time when I was grounded, I attempted to sneak out under his nose by climbing out the window.”

“Aye. When you got caught, all I asked is that you return by dinnertime.”

Hector groans again. “This is not helping your case.”

#asoue #a series of unfortunate events #fanfic #fiona widdershins #fernald #hook handed man #quagmire triplets #isadora quagmire #quigley quagmire #duncan quagmire #captain widdershins #hector #hector asoue #randomity (a collection of ficlets and fics)

1 note · View note

teawaffles · 3 years

Text

The Adventures of John: Chapter 4, Part 2

TW // Mention of abuse

Also, a note for language.

Without even an opportunity for Laura to resist, Sherlock pulled his hand out — and revealed a gorgeous necklace. It wasn’t as if John could remember that necklace itself, but from its elegant sparkle, he judged that it’d been one of the items from their flat.

The despair on Laura’s face only deepened. Beside her, the detective spoke.

“This was stolen from my flat. Since the jewellery was in such a mess, you probably thought it wouldn’t look amiss if just one piece went missing — but that was naive of you,” he said. “Because I have a full grasp of everything that was put there.”

When Laura arrived at their flat, Sherlock had made a show of being indifferent to her request, while making sure that she had taken one of the stolen goods.

To have fully comprehended that chaos — John marvelled at the strength of Sherlock’s memory. During the conversation in the flat, he had persisted in looking out the window, away from Laura: that must’ve been to create a deliberate opening, and test if the girl would help herself to the pile.

Laura had stolen a piece of jewellery from their apartment. Moreover, she’d made up the request to find Dolly. Inevitably, from the two points above, it followed that her goal from the start had been to steal the jewellery. Hence, it formed definite proof that she was one of the thieves’ accomplices.

Confronted by that irreversible reality, Laura was stunned. As for the man, his eyes went bloodshot from anger.

“Y-You’ve gotta be kidding me, you good-for-nothing……. I told you to do it without exposing us—”

Hearing that, Sherlock piped up in a cool voice.

“Shall I take that as a confession? Though, there is still the argument that this kid Laura here is just another one of you vagrants, and you guys have nothing to do with the ring of thieves.”

The man spat on the ground.

“Hmph, I’ve no interest flogging that argument anymore. ——Let’s settle this the fast way.”

Saying that, he drew a small revolver from his pocket, and levelled it at Sherlock. Following suit, a few men among the group also whipped out knives and guns. The remaining crowd cried out softly in fear.

“If we dispatch the both of you right here, the truth’ll remain buried, eh?”

At that unsettling line, his armed accomplices also broke into twisted smiles.

But despite being held at gunpoint, Sherlock seemed particularly unmoved. He observed their actions, and narrated his own view.

“From the looks of it, you lot are the ringleaders, while the rest seem to have been threatened into compliance.”

“Yeah: with just a little bit of a beating, they’ll do anything we ask,” the man smirked.

But Sherlock was calm as he replied.

“From that, I gather not all of you are friends. And seeing how you resort to violence to settle things right away: you’re probably a hoodlum accustomed to crime, aren’t ya?”

“Hoodlum? You’re not wrong, but call us a group of clever thieves if you can. After all, I’ve skilfully manipulated these scum and carried out some brilliant thefts.”

Drunk on his own accomplishments, the man threw a glance at Laura. She hadn’t budged from where she stood; protecting her head, she cowered on the ground in sheer terror. From that, one could easily imagine what maltreatment she and the others had suffered at the hands of these thugs.

His heart filled with rage, John glared at the man.

“That means you forced them to commit crimes, didn’t you?”

“Call it making effective use of them, Doctor Watson,” he drawled. “These people all live on a pittance of a daily income. No one would care if they’re gone. I’ve given them a rather fine job until now, but this time, she just had to screw up. ——As I thought, brats are useless after all!”

“……I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

He shouted at Laura, and she repeated that apology over and over as she sobbed.

“You……”

“John, you’re right to be angry, but please calm down.”

At the unforgivable sight before him, the detective’s assistant had balled his hands into fists, but Sherlock persuaded him to keep his cool.

“Ah…… Sorry to get back to the topic, but let me give you some clarity on this case.”

“Huh?”

As before, Sherlock’s demeanour lacked any sort of tension, and his opponent frowned. But the detective paid no heed to that as he continued.

“To sum up the story thus far: the bunch of louts brandishing their weapons here are the ringleaders behind the thefts, and the other vagrants and street merchants were forcibly…… ‘used’, if I were to borrow your words?”

“Yeah, that’s right. You could say that they’re all expendables to be exploited as I please. To have so skilfully manipulated them — I bet my abilities rival those of that rumoured ‘Lord of Crime’ or something.”

“……Well.”

At that name, Sherlock’s eye twitched. But he showed no further reaction than that as he replied.

“In other words, to you guys, their names and faces aren’t even worth remembering?”

“That’s an odd way to put it, but exactly. They’re all disposable — do you really think I can remember all of them? ……That said, how long are you gonna keep prattling on like that? I don’t know if you’re just trying to buy time, but it’s time for you to die.”

Running out of patience, the man broke off their conversation, and moved to pull the trigger: fully intending to shoot the detective and his assistant.

However, Sherlock’s smile remained bold as ever.

“——That’s it then. I’ve gotten your word.”

That instant, John couldn’t believe his eyes.

Among the crowd of vagrants, the ones who were shrouded in hoods — separate from the ringleaders — were now aiming guns at the criminals.

“……Huh?”

“——Don’t move.”

One of the mysterious figures commanded sternly, keeping his gun trained on the lead criminal. Stunned by this sudden development, the man complied; and with his other hand, the figure slowly drew back his hood.

“……Inspector Lestrade?”

Out of sheer astonishment, John murmured the person's name.

The man in the hood, was Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard. Facing the lead criminal, he spoke in a determined voice.

“From the conversation earlier, it’s clear that you have threatened the poor and coerced them into crime. I’ll hear the details at the station. Don’t even think about resisting.”

Then, the other figures removed their hoods and revealed their faces. One after the other, they confiscated the weapons from the stunned hoodlums. Though they weren’t wearing uniforms, from their practised actions, it was clear that they were police officers.

“W-What the devil is going on……?”

Tonight had been a night of many surprises for this detective. John was yet unable to wrap his head around the situation, and once again, he asked himself a question he’d thought about countless times today.

“Everything’s exactly as you’ve witnessed, John. When I identified this place, I contacted Lestrade at the same time, then got the officers to disguise themselves as tramps and hide among the crowd.”

“But why?”

“If I’d just called in the Yard as usual, we wouldn’t have been able to identify the ringleaders among this large a crowd.”

Sherlock stated that conclusion in brief, then began to explain.

“As I thought about the thieves’ actions, I judged that there was probably a mastermind separate from the ones committing the actual crimes, who was controlling them from behind the scenes. Hence, there was a need to identify this mastermind; but even if the Yard were to round up the entire group of vagrants, like what that ruffian told me earlier, they could just say that they had no relation to the ring of thieves — and that would be the end of it. Moreover, it still wasn’t clear who the ringleaders were, and the ring members who were being threatened would’ve likely been warned not to blab. So, in order to smoke out the ringleaders and elicit a confession, I added a bit of an act.”

Then, the detective looked at Lestrade, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

“——Well, about the disguises: I’d thought about where the police squad could hide themselves, and decided it would be better for them to mingle with the crowd, so they wouldn’t have to sneak about all weirdly.”

“W-Wha— What a stupid……”

Upon hearing the truth, the man’s earlier triumphant attitude had devolved into a disgraceful, incredulous one. This time, Sherlock laughed out loud.

“Sure, you can make people follow you, but you’ll also have to keep tabs on them properly. In the first place, when this location was discovered, didn’t it occur to you that I would call in the Yard? You can pretend to be a mastermind, but with your lack of foresight, even the Lord of Crime would laugh.”

“S……Shite.”

“Oi, watch what you say from here on. It’ll be used as evidence against you in court.”

Lestrade warned the man as he clapped him in irons; accepting his defeat, he hung his head bitterly. For a villain who’d exploited people in poverty, and boasted of rivalling the Lord of Crime: it was a downright dreadful ending.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

“I’ll always be in your debt, Holmes. And the same goes for you, Dr Watson.”

As he watched the arrested criminals being taken away, Lestrade thanked the detective duo.

However, in contrast to the inspector’s earnest attitude, Sherlock put a hand over his mouth as he tried to suppress his laughter.

“Lestrade. Sorry for saying this when you’re being so serious, but…… you looked surprisingly good as a tramp.”

“H-Hey! That’s rude, Sherlock!”

“By Jove, Sherlock……”

John chided the detective, and Lestrade let out an astonished sigh.

“……Anyway, I’m grateful for your help in resolving this case.”

“Yeah, let me know when you have another interesting mystery next time.”

After that simple exchange, the inspector left to join the other police officers.

Then, Laura — the central figure from today — and an old woman from among the vagrants walked over to them.

“——U-Um, Dr Watson.”

The girl stood right before John. She bit her lip, and sank into a deep bow.

“I’m so sorry for tricking you!”

Laura blurted that out in a loud voice. Then, the old woman also bowed solemnly.

Met with their sincere apologies, John spoke up in a kind voice.

“It’s alright. You had no choice — all of you were being threatened.”

“B-But…… I……”

“Don’t worry about it. In any case, won’t it be tough for you all from here on?”

With a start, Laura realised what he meant, and dropped her gaze. Though they had been coerced into thievery, it was still a fact that they had broken the law. Hence, in order to furnish the details to the Yard, all of them would be taken in for questioning.

The atmosphere turned slightly gloomy, and Sherlock piped up.

“You don’t have to be so serious about it, y’know. Seeing as all of you had been forced into those crimes, the Yard’ll treat you more leniently.”

“Y-You’re right.”

John knew that Sherlock was deliberately being optimistic, in an effort not to worry them both. Hence, though it was a little awkward, John agreed with him.

Perhaps the matter wasn’t as simple as Sherlock had described, but the events from now on would be out of their hands entirely. Hoping that Lestrade would speak well in their defence, John changed the topic somewhat forcibly.

“……By the way, is this lady a relative of yours?”

Hearing that, Laura brightened up, and introduced the old woman.

“Yes, she’s my grandmother; we’ve been making a living together selling food.”

“Truly, please accept my sincere apologies for what happened.”

Hearing the old woman’s husky voice, John finally understood the awkward exchange he had witnessed between them at the park. Seeing as they were family, it was only natural for Laura to be more relaxed around her; moreover, the old woman’s faltering tone had surely been due to her guilt at deceiving him.

John nodded in understanding. Then, Laura took out a small pouch.

“That and this…… Here’s the full amount we’ve taken from you, Dr Watson. Please accept it.”

“Ah, I see. I’d forgotten all about the money. Thank you.”

John was about to reach for the pouch, when all of a sudden, a thought struck him — and he stopped.

“……Um, is something the matter?”

Seeing him freeze up, Laura tilted her head. Then, John withdrew his hand, and instead held up the bag full of items he’d bought from the street merchants.

“‘Taken’? What’re you saying? I bought these of my own accord. I can’t see any issues with them, so I’ve no intention of getting a refund.”

“……Eh?”

“Isn’t that right? I negotiated properly with the merchants in the parks, and bought these items as a customer. There was no trickery at all.”

John asserted that proudly, and beside him, he heard Sherlock chuckle.

Of course, what John said was by no means a show of bravado that he hadn’t been tricked. Laura had been moved by his kindness throughout the day; in an instant, she sensed the emotions imbued in his words. But even so, she knitted her brows, looking troubled.

“Still, I really should return this to you.”

She then offered him the pouch again, but John gently pushed it away.

“Laura, in all honesty, the walnuts your grandmother sold me were delicious. For products that good, it’s only right that I pay a fair price for them.”

His smile was full of warmth as he continued.

“If I happen to see your stall again, I’ll be sure to buy from you.”

“Dr Watson……”

This time, Laura did not press the matter.

She held the pouch as if it were a treasure, and her face brimmed with smiles.

“——Alright. When we see each other again, I’ll be sure to prepare lots of walnuts for you.”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to that.”

Then, John bade goodbye to Laura and her grandmother; and with his “loot” in hand, he left the scene with Sherlock.

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #a study in scarlet

50 notes · View notes

maries-gallery · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 300 followers! Your teashop theme is sooo cute! (´｡• ω •｡`) Can I please order cherry pie, prompts 2 and 4 with Arthur? I’ve been having a tough time lately so a drabble with some loving praise and adoration from bestest boy Arthur would make my day (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

300 followers picnic now over

Thank you so much anon ! I'm really sorry to hear that... Hopefully this will brighten up your day even if just a little.

2- Praise kink

4- Size kink

Genre : NSFW, mdi

Warnings : soft penetrative sex, missionary, size kink, praise kink, dacryphilia, creampie

Lips meet yours in a tender kiss, sweet and reverent as Arthur eases his length inside of you.

"By Jove, you're so beautiful, Luv." He whispers, breath fanning over your heated cheeks and dark blue eyes swimming with adoration as he gazes down at you. The golden glow of the morning Sun filtering in through the windows and gliding on your silk skin, illuminating your features as you lay under him, bed hair and heavy lidded eyes clouded with desire.

Your nose scrunches up in pain, cock so thick as he slides it inside of you, tight walls stretching for him and tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

His heart melts at the sight. Your folds swallowing him so well, so sweet and angelic as you gaze up at him. And still even as he splits you open, only love shines in your eyes.

“You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart.” He nuzzles your nose, a gentle smile on his lips, heart so full of love for you it might explode in his chest as the world looks back at him. “I love you so much.”

His hips roll against yours, thrusting in and out of you, a hand finding yours on the sheets and fingers meshing together. His cock drags over your walls, warm tingles coursing through your veins and washing away the pain.

“Arthur- It feels so good-” You pant, choking on your words. His name rolls off your tongue like the purest of lullabies as he drinks in your moans, only for him to hear so early in the day.

His length so deep inside of you it pulls at your heartstring, hitting your sweet spot with every stroke, every snap of his hips against yours.

“I-I know, Luv. You’re taking me so well.” His praises fly straight to your head, thoughts a jumble as the knot in your stomach tightens and threatens to snap.

Dark locks tickle your skin as Arthur leans over you, capturing one of your pert nipples in his mouth, tongue rolling over the hard bud and sending shivers up your spine, legs shaking under him at the new sensation.

“A-Arthur, I-I’m close !” You chant in his ears, a grunt spilling from his lips as your walls clamping down around him, brows furrowing as pleasure courses through his limbs.

“Go ahead, Luv. Cum-cum for me.” His words send you toppling over the edge, mind whirling as your back arch off the sheets, sparks flying in your vision and eyes rolling to the back of your head and mouth falling open in a silent cry of his name as warmth floods your veins. Legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer, inviting him to drown into your embrace and let himself go.

And he does, painting your insides white with his release, lips finding yours for one last binding kiss.

Tagging : @fluffyneko @heyy-its-j @itsforeveralyssaa @ikemen-banshou @noriko-kaneshiro-loves-ikemen @juminly @cookiefics @sunshinedragonofthewest @st-arlert (because come on, Arthur...)

#ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp #ikemen vampire

51 notes · View notes

ikevamp-shrine · 4 years

Note

Hiya! I just wanted to know if you take headcanon requests and if yes I just wanted to see your take on the ikevamp boys playing seven minutes in heaven? I just love the way you write so much I had to ask ☺️ 💕

Thank you for requesting ❤️ I hope you enjoy this and if you would like me to write for Vincent, Dazai, Shakespeare, Sebastian and Jean just say so (I couldn’t really think of anything for them but I can try again if y’all want it). And thank you for the compliment hun☺️.

Author: @ikevamp-shrine

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Characters: Le Comte, Arthur, Theo, Leonardo, Mozart, Napoleon, Isaac

Prompt: seven minutes in heaven

Warnings: none

It was just supposed to be a small get together, or banquet as Le Comte calls it, no one would have thought it would come to this.... playing seven minutes in heaven.

Mozart

“This is annoying,” Mozart huffed as he once again shoved a mop handle off his form, the wooden cleaning tool quickly falling back against his scowling form.

“At least look at the bright side of our predicament Wolf,” you mumbled wracking your brain for the bright side of being shoved in a utilities closet by a bunch of vampires.

Mozart scoffed, you could feel his eye roll from your cramped position in front of the musician even if you couldn’t see it.

“There is no bright side. We’re in a dark, disgusting storage closet when I could be composing and you could be wasting your miserable life away.”

“Wow Wolf, you sure know how to charm a person,” you laughed weakly trying to make yourself smaller so you wouldn’t enrage the agitated man even further.

Mozart was quiet for a moment, his fingers drumming against the wall in a simple melody. He sighed gently, huffing once more and scrunching his nose, “It doesn’t nessessarly bothering me that much when it’s you, here with me.”

You felt him reach up to sweep a stray lock of his hair away as a smirk slowly warped your lips.

“Aww, so you do like me.”

Mozart sneered at your words, “do not flatter yourself.”

Theo

“Stop touching me hondjie,” Theo grumbled as he pushed your arm away from him.

You sighed, growling internally at his thorny attitude. You knew this was a bad idea- playing seven minutes in heaven that is, especially with the crude art dealer.

“I can’t really move anywhere else now can I you ass?” You mumbled letting your head fall back onto the dark wall, a frown on your face.

“Idiot.”

“Douche.”

“Mutt.”

“Soggy sock.”

“Dramatic- did you just call me a soggy sock?” Theo questioned, interrupting his insult with a baffled tone of voice.

You huffed and rolled your eyes at his words only to push his hand away that magically found its way against your thigh.

Theo shifted, knocking over a broom, and slammed his hand above your head against the wall behind you.

“I asked you a question Hondjie,” Theo growled deeply, grasping your chin between his digits. It surprised you- how gentle his fingers were against your skin. His thumb slowly traveled down your jaw to tug at the plush pad of your bottom lip.

His sweet, syrupy scent mixed with leather and the woody aroma of the whiskey he was nursing just a few moments away was intoxicating. The way it wrapped around your form like a blanket made your knees weak and your head spin with need.

His lips fell to your ear, his tongue licking a wet strip along the curve forcing shivers to spill over your spine.

His breath fanned over your neck as he huskily groaned out his next words, “be a good pup and hold still.”

Leonardo

“Leonardo?” You questioned, confusion lacing the waves of your voice.

You had been in this closet all of three minutes and not once had Leonardo said a thing. The only response you received from the polymath was light snoring.

Your eyes widened slightly as your lips parted from your jaw slackening in shock.

How the hell is he sleeping standing up, you thought.

Reaching out a hand to feel his warm chest; his slow breathing pushed your hand out slightly with each intake of breath. Sliding your fingers along his breast you couldn’t help but huff at how broad he was. It felt as if it took forever to finally reach his shoulder to shake him, albeit- you admit- probably a little too roughly, “Leo wake up,” you try again.

Since it was dark in the cramped closet there was no way you would have been able to see, that in fact, Leonardo’s eyes were cracked open, lazy smirk tugging at his lips.

Leonardo shot out an arm to wrap itself around your waist, simultaneously pulling you flush against his body and suffocating you with his addictively sweet scent.

“Quiet now Cara Mia,” he chuckled lowly sending a shiver down your spine at his warm lips tickling your ear.

No matter how much you didn’t want to leave his embrace you struggled against his hold, growling, “don’t you dare-,” the pureblood interrupted you by planting a kiss to the skin of your neck.

“Close your eyes little one,” he whispered reaching up to stroke your hair as your face burned and lips refused to move.

Soon enough his light snores once more shifted through the dark air.

Le Comte

“Ma cherie, you look ravishing tonight.”

His voice snaps you out of your anxious trace

The small utilities closest you both were crammed into was small and dark. Each breath you took forced your chests to brush gently against each other.

Le Comte’s long leg was trapped in between both of yours causing you to practically sit on his knee.

“Thank you Comte, you look very handsome yourself.” My god, you thought, could this be anymore awkward?

The rustle of clothing penetrated your ear drums as you felt his warm fingers ghost over your cheek, lips, and chin to trace the slight jutted bone of your collar, only for his digits to soon grasp your own. Bringing your hand to his lips Comte planted a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

“Relax my dear, I can hear your heart pounding,” he paused after hearing you intake a deep breath. The pureblood leaned foward, his arms wrapping around your waist, hot breath fanning over your neck, his fangs shadowing the curve of your ear, “besides, we have five minutes left- you can decide how they shall progress.”

Arthur

“By Jove you’re a cheeky little minx,” Arthur’s gasps peppered your ear as the clicking of his belt buckle sounded through the air.

The closest was dark and cramped, but your hands still worked diligently to free his throbbing erection, his own fingers working at the buttons of your shirt. You had wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face and so far you had been successful.

“Stop talking and kiss me.”

Arthur didn’t waste anytime fulfilling your request; the moans sliding passed your lips being swallowed by his own.

A guttural groan slipped from Arthur as you shifted your wrist gripping his manhood. His warm, soft lips pecked at the skin of your neck; his wet, pink tongue darting out to taste the sweat on your flesh.

“We have two minutes luv,” choked out the writer as your other hand slid up his heaving chest to squeeze lightly at his neck.

“Well then, we better make them last.”

Let’s just say when you two came out of the closet, the room, originally filled with people, was clear of any other beings.

Napoleon

“Napoleon?”

“Yes nununche?”

“You’re grabbing my butt.”

His hum rumbled deep in his chest, “my apologies, it was an accident.”

“Napoleon, you’re still grabbing my butt.”

“And it’s still an accident.”

Napoleon nonchalant words forced a laugh to tumble from your grinning lips. Tracing the hard curve of his thigh you found your way to his butt and pinched it tightly.

Napoleon took a sharp intake of breath and chuckled quietly, the closet was dark but he could still imagine the grin splitting across your face reaching ear to ear. He leaned forward, noses bumping each other in a quick kiss, and placed a hand above your head against the wall effectively trapping you in place.

Ghosting his lips across your cheek the previous emperor of France stole a small peck on your plush lips, traveling further down until his eyelashes fluttered against the bone of your jaw.

Giggling at the ticklish sensation you grabbed his hips between your digits tugging his warm body closer.

Wet noises assaulted your ears as his soft lips placed opened mouth kisses to the curve of your neck, Napoleon’s fangs circling over your skin like a teasing tango.

Your grip tightened, “- easy there nununche, don’t get too excited now,” Napoleon spoke, his heated whispers blowing through your hair.

“Well damn Leon’ I’m already there.”

Isaac

“Are you okay?”

Isaac was startled at your question. His hands were placed firmly on the wall behind his shivering form, his nails digging at the paint to gain some sort of balance.

You shifted your knee stuck between his thighs causing a choked gasp to tumble past his thinned lips.

“Don’t move-,” Isaac’s strained whisper was followed by a whimper as his grip on the wall slipped. Gravity forced his body down resulting in his clothed cock grazing against your warm leg once more.

He could practically hear your blood pumping at this proximity and it was driving him mad.

Isaac’s fangs pulsed, his throat burned, his eyes watering with embarrassed tears. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw. In his mind Isaac spoke a silent prayer to make it out of this god forsaken closet without stripping you bare and making you speak his name like a curse as he gulped down your very life essence.

“Isaac,” you paused your whispering to twist a lock of Isaac’s cherry blossom hair around your finger, enticing a wanton whimper from the flushed male, “you can drink from me. I trust you.”

Suddenly you were pinned to the wall by a heaving, trembling vampire.

“Please forgive me.” Your desperate moans followed soon after.

SHOTS MATERLISTS

MASTERLIST

ABCs SMUT MASTERLIST

508 notes · View notes

existslikepristin · 3 years

Text

Dramatic Crime Drama

No image for this one because I am ashamed so fucking proud of this accomplishment of a smut. And however stupid this seems, it is the prequel to Get To Blow You. Also I meant to schedule this to be posted later. Oops. Please feel free to not reblog this bullshit stained glass masterwork.

Tags: TheLounge, Aespa, Monsta X, Winter, Shownu, Jooheon, Hyungwon, so drama, much cops, absolute masterpiece, deepthroat, prime time TV worthy, intense interrogation, the best smut ever written, this took years of hard work and definitely not half an hour, you dare enter my realm, you are not prepared, my potions aren't fit for a beast let alone a man

~~~~~

"Tell us where the bomb is!"

"I already told you Officer Shownu. There is no bomb," Winter said with her head held high.

"Don't bullshit me!"

"Yeah, don't bullshit him!" Officer Jooheon shouted from the other side of the table.

Shownu continued, "You know damn well there's a bomb that will level Seoul Block G, because you and your team planted it."

Winter looked in every direction except at Shownu, twirling her blonde-blue hombre hair around a finger. "Wow, officer. We've been over this offscreen already. Why did you need to exposit like that?"

Shownu roared and threw his pen on the floor.

The interrogation room speaker cracked on, ~"SON! LEE! GET IN HERE!"~

The officers stormed out of the room and around the corner.

"She's getting to me, Captain Hyungwon!" Shownu threw his sunglasses on the floor.

"You think I can't see that, officer?! I've got half a mind to take your badge right now!"

"Captain!" Jooheon shouted, "We joined this precinct to save lives and by jove that's exactly what we're gonna do! If you take his badge, you'll have mine too!"

"Dammit Lee, you're right!"

The three of them glared through the one-way mirror. Winter was standing up against it, caressing it sensually. But most unsettlingly of all, she was doing it while staring directly at all three police!

"Men, get back in there and make her talk."

"Aye aye, Captain," both officers said simultaneously and walked around the corner to back into the interrogation room.

Winter was already back in her seat. "Well boys? Did you find the bomb?"

Jooheon pointed accusingly at her, "You said earlier that there was no bomb!"

She laughed a light, cold laugh, "I must have... lied."

Officer Shownu threw his badge on the floor. He turned his back to her and shouted at Jooheon, "Dammit, she got us!"

"Don't lose your cool, Shownu! This is for the good of the city!"

"You're right, Jooheon! We joined this precinct to save lives!" Shownu stomped over to Winter, looming over her.

She looked up at him through the corner of her eye and sighed out with a single word, "Well?"

Shownu took a deep breath and shouted down, "Tell us where the bomb is!"

"I'm afraid," Winter said cooly, "You'll have to facefuck the answer out of me."

~"SHE CAN'T BE SERIOUS!"~

"Oh, I'm deadly serious, Mr. Police Captain Hyungwon."

"Egad, Shownu! Do you really think you can do it?!" Jooheon gripped Shownu's shoulder tightly.

The two officers turned to each other, putting their foreheads together.

"I have to Jooheon. If I don't make it... Tell Jennifer I love her."

Jooheon shed a tear and lightly smacked Shownu's cheek. "I don't know who that is."

Shownu turned on Winter once again, fire in his eyes and dick out of his pants.

"Seems your Black Mamba is happy to see me," Winter chuckled chilly.

~"DAMMIT SON, MATURE SPECIMENS COMMONLY GROW TO THREE METERS!"~

With determination, Shownu stepped forward so his dick rested on Winter's shoulder. With equal determination, she grabbed it and hefted it to her lips. She didn't hesitate for a moment to open her mouth and immediately swallow half of it. Shownu threw his head back.

"No! Shownu!" Jooheon shouted, his arm outstretched.

Officer Shownu put a hand back. "It's okay Jooheon! I can do this!"

Winter looked up at Shownu, a mischevious, icy glint in her eye. She inched herself down, agonizingly slowly. Like a glacier or something I'm running out of winter puns.

Shownu glared back down, grabbed the back of her head, and pulled hard. The moment her nose touched his pelvis, Shownu climaxed, releasing Winter's head. His groan and a loud slurping noise practically echoed through the room as she came all the way off, getting hit in the cheek with the last spurt of his cum.

Shownu stood there, dazed, but doing his damnedest to shake out of it. He managed to get in a deep breath. "Tell us where the bom-- Where did she go?!" He threw his shirt on the floor.

Jooheon pointed at the interrogation room door that was slowly swinging itself shut.

~"DAMMIT! SHE'S GOT A GUN!"~

~"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? NO I DON'T. LORD, YOU ARE SO WEIRD. I'M OUTTA HERE."~

"Should we go after her, Shownu?" Jooheon asked, looking quite concerned.

Shownu smirked, "No. I got all I needed."

THE END, BITCHES.

38 notes · View notes

hermannsthumb · 3 years

Note

hey I’m not sure if you’re taking prompt requests but I just had this idea if you ever want to write it. I know it’s not anywhere near New Years right now but I had an idea for if there was a little NYE party with all the ppdc staff there. All the homies are just vibing, getting crunk on shitty alchohol or whatever and y’know Newt and Hermann have a lil New Year’s Eve kiss 🥺

That’s all I have to say I hope you’re having a good day!

@owengrose said: Prompt: "My New Year's resolution is to finally tell him I love him."

happy new year’s eve to both of you!!! i let the first one sit in my ask box for a while before getting to it lol. my annual Newmann NYE fic. here’s to hoping next year is moderately better (and I actually get more writing done...)

-------

“Here we are, then,” Hermann says.

He hands Newt a glass of something he concocted at the lab kitchenette—judging by the color, and the pitiful wedge of a clementine garnish he squeezed onto the brim, some sort of gin and tonic, though less tonic and more watermelon La Croix. It was the only thing they could find in the breakroom fridge that would work remotely as a mixer. It’s probably been buried in there for months. “Thanks, dude,” Newt says. Then, noticing the lack of a similar glass in Hermann’s hand, asks “Not drinking?”

“None of that,” Hermann says. “I’ve got a bottle of decent wine buried somewhere under all the rubbish in my desk. I’ll have that if I want any before we go.”

“Suit yourself,” Newt says. “It’ll be more fun if we show up tipsy, I’m telling you.”

New Year’s Eve used to be a lot more exciting when Newt was in school, and young and invincible and all that shit. There were parties—bar crawls—the Times Square ball drop at midnight, queued up on someone’s laptop or a television screen wherever he was—drinking until he needed a classmate (or later colleague) to walk him home. The Shatterdome staff still goes as hard as Newt used to, and God, Newt envies them for it, but the end of the world kinda killed it for him. He just kinda exists in a low, humming state of anxiety now. He and Hermann both. It’s good for them to get out of the lab every now and then and strive for normalcy, and Newt has a feeling Hermann knows it, which is probably why he didn’t put up a fight when Newt suggested they go to the big base party tonight.

Newt still needs a good few drinks in him before he can drink more and pretend to be merry. He finishes the gin and tonic with a wince. “Too much gin,” he says. “Okay, let’s go.”

Newt drinks, and he dances with a few people, and he engages in a few genuine non-work-related-conversations before he finally admits to himself he’d rather just chill with Hermann in one of the deserted corners of the room. Hermann is waiting for him in a stupid gold party hat with a cup of water—what a guy. Always there for Newt. The hat is a cute look on him, too. Newt wonders if he picked it out himself, or if it was forced on him; either scenario is cute.

“I just don’t fancy dealing with your hangover tomorrow,” Hermann says with a sniff, as Newt swallows the water down gratefully after a few thanks. “Last year—”

“Yeah, okay,” Newt says. Last year was bad. He ended up falling asleep on the floor of the lab, and when Hermann made him coffee the next morning, he puked it up all over a very important stack of Hermann’s paperwork and the subsequent shouting match just made his headache worse. Drinking water is good, very good. He kicks his feet up on a nearby vacant chair. The music is loud, and people look like they’re having fun. Normalcy. He and Hermann are just two normal dudes right now, who aren’t fighting monsters from another dimension. “Can you believe we’ve survived another year?”

“Frankly, no,” Hermann admits.

“One whole year,” Newt says. “One whole year of not being squashed by a kaiju, or eaten by a kaiju, or murdered by you…”

Hermann snorts derisively, though a bit of a genuine smile does peek through. “One whole year of you not blowing the laboratory up. That is a feat, isn’t it?”

“You fucking bet it is,” Newt says. He really thought Hermann was going to kill him over the puking incident, and only a day into the new year too. He slings an arm around Hermann’s shoulders. Two normal dudes, and friends at that. He really likes Hermann, y’know, but that might just be the gin and watermelon La Croix talking. “You got any resolutions, dude?”

“Er,” Hermann says.

“I want to try to get into yoga,” Newt says. “For exercise, and shit. We should do it together.” Back when the base enjoyed more funding and workers, Newt was always seeing flyers for weekly yoga classes taped up in the elevator and at the announcement board in the mess; once, he got it so into his mind that he was going to start going that he bought three whole pairs of yoga pants. He never got around to it, of course. The classes kinda fizzled out when the PPDC budget was slashed drastically anyway. Hopefully YouTube videos work just as well, and that the pants still fit him...

“If I’m being honest, Newton,” Hermann says, and Newt spies the tips of his ears turning pink, how cute, “I still haven’t quite managed to accomplish last year’s resolution. Or technically this year’s, I suppose. My—well—my nerves failed me every time I thought I was close.”

"Eh, no big deal,” Newt says. “I never did mine either. I think that’s just as much of a tradition.” He went vegan for all of two weeks before realizing most of the rationing-standard food they served in the mess wasn’t exactly catered to those particular dietary needs. Also, Newt likes fancy lattes too much, and oatmilk just wasn’t kicking it for him. “I totally am gonna do the yoga one though. I need a stress reliever. I don’t wanna go bald before we’re even killed by kaiju, you know?” He crosses his legs. “Or go grey. I can’t decide which is worse. What was yours?”

“Nothing important,” Hermann says quickly. He takes a clumsy sip of his own cup of water, and spills a bit of it down his sweater. Newt decides not to mention. “It must be nearly midnight. Don’t you want to run off to find someone to snog?”

“Nah, not this year, I don’t think,” Newt says. Last year (before the whole blacking out and ruining the paperwork thing), he made out with a ranger he had a crush on for, like, months, and the guy never even called him back. And Newt slipped his official PPDC email into his pocket too. So totally rude. He reaches out and plucks the elastic string holding Hermann’s hat on, and is delighted when Hermann scowls. “You’re stuck with me. Why don’t you find someone to kiss?”

Hermann opens his mouth, and then shuts it. The blush is spreading down from his ears. “I am staying right here, thank you, and I am not kissing anyone.”

“Suit yourself,” Newt says.

“Five minutes to go!” someone in the crowd shouts.

Newt locates a party hat of his own on a nearby table and pulls it on. It’s silver, unlike Hermann’s. He doesn’t think it looks nearly as cute as Hermann’s. “What was your resolution?” he finally asks. The burning curiosity’s too much for him. What did Hermann mean by nerves? Hermann’s never afraid to speak his mind around Newt, at least—Newt can’t remember the last time he’s held back anything. This must be a pretty big thing.

“Oh, it hardly matters now,” Hermann says. “The year’s about to end, isn’t it? Better luck next go around, I suppose.”

“Were you going to request your own lab?” Newt says. That’s a big thing. And it’s a big thing he’d be hesitant to share with Newt, too. Not that Newt would be upset over having his own lab, obviously, sharing with Hermann totally sucks. It’s the worst.

“Mm. No,” Hermann says.

Newt feels a small twinge of relief, but only for a moment. “A different Shatterdome?” It’s the sort of thing Hermann’s always threatening—by Jove, Newton, if you don’t clean this mess up right now, I’m marching into the Marshal’s office, and I’m going to demand...

“Oh, it’s hardly that dramatic,” Hermann says. He plucks at the elastic of his hat this time. “It’s one minute until midnight.”

“Just tell me!” Newt says. Their fellow partygoers start counting down around them. “You’re killing me. I just wanna—”

“Ten—”

“It’s not important,” Hermann says.

“It is to me,” Newt says.

“It’s really not,” Hermann says.

“Tell me, tell me, tell me—”

“Fine,” Hermann says.

He grips the front of Newt’s shirt. Newt shuts up immediately. “I’m in love with you,” Hermann growls, “you wretched little man. That was my bloody resolution.”

“Oh, shit,” Newt squeaks.

Someone pops a bottle of champagne to loud cheers; confetti is suddenly raining down on Newt and Hermann. They totally missed midnight. “Oh, shit,” Newt repeats, and then, because Hermann looks utterly mortified and like he wants to book it out of there as fast as he can, thinks fuck it. He leans forward and kisses Hermann.

“Newton,” Hermann gasps, half in shock, half in delight, and returns it enthusiastically.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous #last fic of 2020!!!!#alcohol cw ///#emeto cw///#(brief ref)

164 notes · View notes