#lady who thinks her way is the right way and she's morally right and therefore everyone else is wrong

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

reading dungeon meshi

[percheduphere]

I’m a new follower and wanted to say that I really enjoy reading your Lokius content. They are really well thought out and written. I was wondering if you have any headcanons on Loki’s time in Asgard like his relationships, any events you think could’ve happened, etc.

Hi Anon!

Sorry for the late reply and thank you for your patience. I have several headcanons about Loki's Asgardian relationships based on comics canon and MCU canon.

I'm going to focus on characters outside of Thor, Odin, and Frigga, as I believe those relationships have been discussed at length by many other fans.

FANDRAL - Back in 2014/2015, I used to ship them together romantically. I'd like to think I added some depth to his character, but the truth is the canon leaves much to be desired with ONE exception. Comics canon reveals that Fandral fell into a portal that landed him in medieval Midgard where he became Robin Hood, married Maid Marion, stayed with her despite her aging while he remained young, mourned her death, and couldn't have a serious romantic affair since. I used this to flesh him out and create a healthier relationship with Loki, but I digress. I think at the very least, Loki and Fandral slept together, perhaps on more than one occasion. At the very least, they are somewhat friendly with each other. Loki saves his life in Thor 1 by throwing a dagger at a Jotun that's about to attack him; Fandral's the least hostile to Loki of the Warriors Three and Sif; in comics canon, he's the smartest/most cunning of the Warriors Three; he is the only character among Thor's closest friends to not threaten to kill Loki upon their encounter in Thor 2, and quite simply their temperaments when it comes to style, pleasure, and poetics are compatible. I think they suit each other quite well and could have made a good couple canonically if not for the fact that they are both flighty when it comes serious relationships (both due to trauma, if you take Fandral's Robin Hood backstory seriously). At any rate, Mobius surpasses him in many ways and is a wonderful character in his own right, for which I am eternally grateful.

SIF - While I don't think Loki hates Sif, I feel the same cannot be said about Sif for Loki. In Norse mythology, Loki cuts Sif's hair as a prank and is forced by Thor to magically create for Sif hair of gold. In the comics canon, Sif's hair was originally gold and Loki cutting it resulted in it turning dark brown or black. In multiple iterations of the comics canon, Loki's motivation has near-consistently been his jealousy of his brother's attention for her. Now, Sif in the MCU versus Sif in comics reads as a "girl friend" as opposed to a "girlfriend". However, Sif has a strong sense of honor and integrity, neither of which she is willing to compromise. I therefore see her constantly clashing with Loki's morally gray (at best) and outright malicious (at worst) intentions. The most traumatic comics canon experience Sif has been through with Loki was his taking over her body to become Lady Loki. That trauma left her completely untrusting of Loki's motivations even after he is reborn in the Journey into Mystery/Agent of Asgard/God of Stories arcs, despite Thor, Fandral, and Volstagg's advocating for Loki's innocence as a child. They may have been friends as children, but that friendship has long been broken. Whenever they are in the same room, it is tense.

HEIMDALL - Through the Bifrost, he is a near-omniscient guardian being who is significantly older than Thor and his peers. For this reason, I think Heimdall is generally neutral towards Loki's behavior, having witnessed all sorts of behavior throughout the Nine Realms. That said, his friendship with Thor creates a strong sense of protectiveness for him and wariness towards Loki by Thor 2. I was of the belief that Heimdall is the most serious of Thor's friends and that his regard toward Loki was not too afar from the Warrior's Three. However, the Loki series suggests he has a playful side, at least when Thor and Loki were younger. I think he may have humored Loki's antics as he had Thor's, like an uncle who indulges his nephews with an air of amusement, mild exasperation, and reserved affection. I also think he appreciated Loki's intelligence. It is a lonely duty to guard the Bifrost. I think Loki's visits and conversations lifted his spirits from time to time. Unfortunately, Odin's penchant for war and conquest, his political machinations, his deceit, his manipulation, and his favoritism toward Thor all come to a head.

VOLSTAGG - Not much is shown about Volstagg. I can say he is the oldest of Thor's friends and the only father among them. He detests Loki's cunning, and Loki detests him for his boorishness. Their archetypes are the classic "jock's best friend" and "dramatic bookworm." I don't doubt they quarreled a lot when they were younger, if Thor 1 was any indication, and that they secretly enjoyed those quarrels as much as they were annoyed by them. Like the rest of Thor's friends, lines were drawn after Thor 1 and Avengers. However, in comics canon, Volstagg defends the reborn Loki, as a child, in Journey into Mystery. Volstagg has many children with his wife and loves children generally. He provided kid!Loki with warmth, protection, and affection when many refused to give him a chance. I think God of Stories Loki would have respect and even some fondess for Volstagg because Volstagg shares some of Mobius's quirks: his love of food, his a soft spot for the small and helpless, and his exceptional devotion to his spouse (in Mobius's case, his partnership with Loki rather than his wife).

HOGUN - Hogun is the most difficult character for me to get a read on because he is just as quiet in comics canon as, if not more so, MCU canon. I can say he and Sif are likely close in personality. In my opinion, they therefore would be best friends with one another after Thor. His doubt of Loki and anger towards him come across as more muted (still waters run deep) than the others, but that does not mean it is any less passionate. He is also the toughest of the Warriors Three, the last to die in Ragnarok. In their youth, I can see him putting Loki at a distance, carefully observing him, but actively not engaging with him unless absolutely necessary.

[drsilverfish]

The English and “The Shame”

The English dir Hugo Blick (Nov 2022 on BBC iplayer UK and Amazon Prime elsewhere) starring Chaske Spencer and Emily Blunt.

Discussion under the cut because major spoilers warning

This is a really beautiful tale in every way. It’s also a parable about English colonialism. It’s a reparative story, which takes the Western narrative and, for once, gives the starring part to a Native American.

Chaske Spencer’s Native American hero Eli brings so much to his character through a taciturn yet gentle endurance, which speaks volumes about all that he has suffered (losing wife, children, family). He’s someone with a dual identity, a Pawnee tribe member, having been a scout for the US Army in (I think, from the timeline) The Black Hills War against the Sioux.  

The drama is called The English, for a reason, because on a broader canvass, this is about the brutality which the colonial conquest of the English ruling class wrought on its own working class, on the Scots, on the Irish, on the Native Americans, on the American continent itself. 

Blunt’s character is a representative of that English ruling class. She is Lady Cornelia Locke and she says that her father, “...owned half of Devon”.

She is wealthy, but, she is also a woman in the Victorian era, a period when women (even aristocratic ones) had extremely limited rights, effectively “belonging” to their fathers and then to their husbands. 

Lady Cornelia is on a revenge mission. She was raped (by a duplicitous British butcher out to make his own way in the States) and she and the son that resulted from that rape, were infected with syphlilis (then incurable and ultimately fatal) and suffered from the pain, and the social stigma of that. 

She is a sympathetic character, but she also embodies “the English” colonial project and its repercussions.

In America, she carries around a bag full of a large amount of money throughout her journey, which is often reacted to with shock (and avarice) by those she meets along the way, who are all scrabbling to make a living. This is of course, a metaphor for colonial plunder, which is where English aristocractic money significantly comes from. Yet Cornelia retains a naivety (a protective ignorance) about that. 

It’s also symbolic that Cornelia has been infected with syphillis. Disease metaphors are always a bit narratively dubious, because they tend to reinforce stigma about infection, particularly sexually transmitted infection. Unfortunately, this is no different, as syphllis is partly used to signify sexual and moral corruption in this narrative. Nevertheless, it also functions effectively as part of the colonial critique.

It is believed that Columbus brought syphilis back from the New World to the Old World in the 1400s. On a metaphorical level, we can understand Cornelia’s syphilis as the horrible consequences of colonialism coming home to roost. The character herself did not deserve to suffer, and she is depicted as brave and true-hearted, a victim herself, but the point is that colonialism infects the souls of colonisers as well as colonised. This is a metaphor also carried in the narrative by Cornelia’s identification of herself as a Scorpio, and Eli’s warning that scorpions are often most dangerous to themselves (sometimes stinging themselves to death with their own tails. Looking at the present, a metaphor for Brexit Britain, arguably the self-inflicted wound of imperial hubris coming back to bite us..  

It’s entirely important, therefore, that Sheriff Robert Marshall, played by Stephen Rea, is Irish, the Irish being victims of English colonialism themselves. The Sheriff has compassion and sympathy for Eli and Cornelia and helps them escape culpability for the murder of their common enemy, the English villain Melmont.

The love story, told extremely well with two excellent performances from Blunt and Spencer, is the bow in which the colonial critique is wrapped. Cornelia and Eli love one another, but must part, and it is notable that he accepts they must separate while she first protests, in their final scene. But in the end, she does what “good” colonizers should do; she goes home.

And when, in England years later, Cornelia meets the Native American young man whose life she and Eli saved, and he lifts her veil to kiss her, and she whispers, “But...the shame”, he replies, “Yes, but not yours,” and we understand that ‘the shame” is not the shame of syphilis, but the shame of colonialism itself.

[afterthefeast]

ep 3 rewatch

it’s been done to death but the fact that goodsir is the one who prevents silna from getting the charms she needed is so juicy. man despite your best intentions your hands are bloody from the start eh?

also hartnell & silna is a really good interaction because like, he’s really quite kind and respectful, be puts some supper in and gives condolences for her father but it doesn’t ultimately matter. i think it’s an example of how no matter how good their intentions are or how kind they may be the crew cannot do the right thing because they just have this insurmountable epistemological barrier by virtue of having been raised to buy into empire.

now that i’ve remembered who he is it’s possible de voeux is my most hated character in this show

also throwing silna’s father down the ice hole just. so cartoonishly evil.

obsessed with how consistently miserable meals on the erebus are shown to be. obviously this one is sad for good reason because gore isn’t there but it does paint a picture of a truly soul-sucking working environment. just deeply awkward for everybody involved.

also interesting to read the body language in franklin’s flashback to his officers chatting back in london. fitzjames is halfway out of the circle but leaning in pretty much how someone slightly left out of the school friendgroup would act (foreshadowing that he’s out of his depth and overcompensates socially?) and gore is the centre of attention (tallies with the impression that gore was pretty universally popular and does suggest to me that his early death really sent things downhill on erebus morale wise).

honestly jane franklin is so interesting to me. love that she’s a bit of a lady macbeth in some ways despite next episode pointing out that she also thinks her husband is a bit of an idiot.

mandatory religious service sir john u fucking square

the fact that franklin refuses crozier’s rescue plan right after we’re shown he had no rescue plan in the first place — motivated primarily by vanity. “i will not lose another man” is not his motivation surely. hilarious that he accuses crozier of vanity because of this as well. something deeply paternalistic about the whole speech too - franklin saying he takes some (but not all!) responsibility for crozier’s shortcomings as a captain. something about how everything crozier is is because of sir john, who is retroactively taking credit for moulding his whole personality, except for his flaws which are inherent to crozier, indelible failures. ALSO actually this is completely the imperial mindset like straight up. british imperial policy in africa (in contrast to french) focused very much on like, emphasising difference between indigenous people and the british administration. they would educate “able” colonised people in the british system but they would never be british (the french response, also evil, was just to say that everyone was now french what a gift). like, the attitude of, we will make you, as much as we can, a good imperial citizen, all of your achievements will be because we gave you that opportunity, but also you will never truly be one of us because you will always be Other and therefore wrong. very franklin & crozier in that scene.

the irony of course is that, the above said, in a limited sense franklin isn’t wrong — crozier’s tendency to isolate himself is actively detrimental.

also fitzjames’ obvious eavesdropping is really funny especially considering that it was not necessary. dundy was also listening in but managed to get away but fj just sort of freezes? very secondary mean girl behaviour of him

ok interesting that blanky & crozier assume little would refuse to disobey sir john and send off the search parties. also “there’s a spare captain on erebus”, fun thirty second foreshadowing. but also good example of how crozier is like…idk his self-sacrifical tendencies are obviously ultimately completely thwarted, and also not at all the best for his ship

DIGGLE WAS THE COOK??? ok craaaazy that he ended up in cannibalism kitchen then

IRVING WATERCOLOUR SPEECH. best moment of this whole fucking show. again really interesting that hickey has initially really misread the situation and it is worse than he thought it was BUT it’s also so funny how much he is clearly enjoying playing the repentant sinner. kind of into it methinks. also “you’re in the world’s best place for it” [“repairing” yourself] and “god sees you, mr hickey. here, more than anywhere” OKAYY.

DIVORCE!!!!! <3333

“to think you were such a good wife to me, all this months” hmmmmm

RAT SPEECH okay putting a pin in this speech because i am too tired to fully go through it but there’s a lot there about like. idk general human/animal stuff, also “rats devouring each other to make more rats” kind of a thesis statement maybe?

“just ask jopson” classic messy bitch jopson

“he sees something in me” / “he doesn’t see you at all” — “a man like me will do anything to be seen” / “that is not how i see you” yet another parallel between hickey & billy and crozier & fitzjames. which could mean anything

“educate this creature as to the dominion of the empire and the will of the lord behind it” well.

honestly goodsir trying to figure out how to arrange the leg will always be famous

little & dundy honestly looking straight up suicidal about fitzjames’ excessive grief. yet another erebus awkward workplace moment.

[whocookedthelastsupper]

“With woman's every natural function seen as a life-threatening crisis, the rational scientific male could not repose much confidence in such a frail vessel. Woman, it now emerged under the scrutiny of pseudo-biology, was a creature hopelessly fragile not only in body, but above all in what the craniologists had grudgingly conceded her by way of mind. Nervous disorders and mental instability were her lot, but there could be no hope of remedying her deficiency in the little gray cells by education: any learning for young ladies risked "excessive stimulation" to their feeble mental parts and was incalculably dangerous. The philosopher Herbert Spencer, previously savaged by Carlyle as "the greatest ass in Christendom" for his part in the evolution debate, was foremost among those who took it upon themselves to trumpet the ill-effects of "brain-forcing" upon young women: diathesis (nervousness), chlorosis ("green-sickness" or anemia), hysteria, stunted growth and excessive thinness were the least they, should expect if they so much as touched a copy of Catullus. Nor was this all. Overtaxing the brain, Spencer warned, "produces... flat-chested girls: consequently those who "survive their high-pressure education” could never "bear a well-developed infant."

Spencer was not the only man of his time to fear that the price of rescuing women from their "natural" ignorance would be "a puny, enfeebled and sickly race." Yet the creature who was too weak-minded even to be educated out of it, could hardly be deemed fit for anything else. Women's imputed physical and mental frailty thus became the grounds for refusing her any civil or legal rights, indeed any change from the "state of nature" in which she dwelt. As late as 1907, an English earl blocked a bill to allow women limited and local voting rights in these terms:

“I think they are too hysterical, they are too much disposed to be guided by feeling and not by cold reason, and... to refuse any kind of compromise. I do not think women are safe guides in government, they are very unsafe guides.”

The speaker was suppor wider another of the leading lights of the British aristocracy in the is der terms of naked masculine self interest: “What is to be feared is that if we take away the position which voman has hitherto occupied, which has come to her from no arich cil education but from nature, if we transfer her from domestic into political life... the homes and happiness of every member of the the homes and happiness of every member of the community will be worsened by the transference." Although plainly not overburdened himself with "artificial" or any other kind of education, his lordship was quite clear on the main point at issue: any attempt by women to escape from their enforced inferiority could only damage the fabric of society, and must therefore be resisted.

Yet for a state of nature, women's lowly status and civil death took a good deal of social and cultural force to maintain. Along with the revolution of industrialism and the victory of science over common sense and reason, the nineteenth-century law became the third and most openly oppressive of the enemies of female emancipation.

Nowhere was this process more blatant than in France, where the Code Napoléon was hailed as the most advanced legal monument of its age; history does not record whether this enthusiasm was in ignorance or in recognition of the fact that this was the most comprehensively repressive package of legislation against women of all time. Under the ancien régime, married women had enjoyed wide free-doms, control over their own property, and an influential place in their community, rights that the Revolution had only widened, by facilitating divorce, for example. Now, in his determination to rebuild the laws of France on a Roman, or rather Corsican, moral base, Napoleon firmly legislated to ensure woman's total subordination to man, and her slavish obedience to all his wishes.

There can be no doubt of the personal edge on Napoleon's legislative blade. "Women should stick to knitting," he informed the son of Madame de Staël, who, whatever else, was not famous for her skill with the needles. Napoleon's attitude to women consistently betrayed such narrow, reactionary, crude and sexist views, along with the determination that just as he was to be sole authority in the state, so every male should have total control over his family. Pushing his "reforms" through the council of state Napoleon pronounced, “the husband must possess the absolute power and right to say to his wife, Madam, you shall not go to the theater, you shall not receive such and such a person; for the children you will bear shall be mine.” Equally, every woman "must be made to realize that on leaving the tutelage of her family, she passes under that of her husband."

To this end, the Code Napoléon equipped every husband with extraordinary, unprecedented, indeed despotic powers. He could compel his wife either to reside in or to move to any place he decreed; everything she ever owned or earned became his; in divorce, he kept the children, the house and all the goods, for she had no right in their common property; in adultery, she could be sent to prison for up to two years, while he escaped scot free. Frenchwomen had been better off in the Dark Ages than they were after Napoleon's Civil Code became law in 1804. Their modern tragedy was to be repeated with a Greek inevitability in countless other corners of the globe as the new model code, along with the metric system, swept most of the civilized world.

Yet even as the forces of patriarchy were vigorously regrouping within these very structures of oppression lay the seeds of their eventual defeat. The revolution of industrialization made women's search for a new identity and purpose both urgent and inescapable, it had also unwittingly put into her hands the means by which to achieve it. The very success of the Industrial Revolution in creating wealth, created also the idle wife as the badge of her husband's social succes. The production of surplus goods and surplus money led inevitably to the production of surplus women. It created, too, a concept entirely new in historical terms, the idea that women should be entirely supported by men. Large numbers of the females of the rising bourgeoisie thus found themselves lodged in a limbo somewhere between china doll and household pet, relegated to the classic "little woman" role still recognizable today. Deprived of work and significance, the idle wife was offered instead the newfangled flummery of Mrs. Bee-ton's "domestic arts"" Emily Post on etiquette, and The Language of Flowers.

As time went on, however, "this strange masculine aberration that required women to be useless." in the words of historian Amaury de Riencourt, "proved to be a mistake of the first order": "the historical record shows that women, one way or another, always have to be at the center of things and will not for long stand being made idle or put on the shelf." This enforced inactivity gave the "lady of leisure" the time to question her enervating and demoralizing lifestyle, her dependence on her man for money, status and meaning. When this brutally stupid and unnatural way of life was also forced down women's throats as the highest form of existence any female could hope to attain, the conflict between what life was and what it was supposed to be eventually became unmanageable.

At the other end of the scale, the working woman had no leisure question her lot. Wholly subject to her lord and master, she groaned under the newly emerging "double burden" of working full-time by day, and carrying out the full load of all the household chores in whatever time was left at night.”

-Rosalind Miles; Who Cooked The Last Supper?; Women’s History of the World

[justatalkingface]

Thanks for answering my ask! Just one thing though I probably should have worded it better, my bad, when I asked if ochako's goals conflicted, I was thinking something like she might be rejected by hero society despite everything she's done, in a more extreme sense. Like if ochako started advocating for better treatment for heroes and eventually villains, then hero society might literally try to get rid of her.

In the chapter with izuku and the civilian mob outside UA (main character's solution: bring it all back 😅), nagant and hawks with the commission (I know they're technically gone but with no safeguards preventing them from coming back, you know), the heroes and civilians have been shown to fight against and in many cases eliminate those who they feel are a threat to them or their way of life, no matter who they are. Maybe it's just overthinking on my part in hoping that ochako might really accomplish something in the end, but with what we've been shown in bnha on the 'heroes' side, it just never seems like a clear picture that'll turn out well. Does this make sense or no?

Oh, sure.

There's actually two questions here, whether you know it or not.

There's would this happen in a 'realistic' version of MHA, and would this happen in our MHA.

In reverse order, in our MHA? Not a chance. Ochako, the half assed love interest of The Main Character, if she was campaigning to do The Right Thing, after the story is over? There's no way she'd be shunned. It's just... not going to happen, because she's a hero and as I've said before, Hori is afraid of letting his heroes look wrong, or having problems where they're morally conflicted. If they're doing something, its right, therefore they'll do it successfully because it's right. At worst, there will be some minor protest from someone unimportant, solely to be shouted down and prove Ochako's point.

Granted, I'm not sure how much advocating for the villains would happen, what with this series's complete refusal to address the problems it brings up, but off screen there could easily be something done that 'fixes' things, somehow, about villains, when it's clearly a societal problem the heroes are having problems admitting even exist, because at the end of the day Hori has locked onto the basic story book ending here.

Also, this assumes that hero society and/or Quirks is still around post canon, which is actually up in the air at this point.

On a more realistic sense... that is where it could get interesting.

Assuming, for this, that after the story everything is the same, more or less, that there's still Quirks, heroes, ranked heroes, monetization, Japan hasn't been Dusted or SMASHED into oblivion....

Basically, Status Quo is God, and Ochiko wants to punt God into the sun, as is right and proper, yeah?

Then she could be having some problems, because while she would have a lot of good feelings going her way, as a hero of the... war(? whatever AFO's suppression get's labeled as), and probably with her classmates support, villains are probably going to be loathed by the general public, since, you know, they keep killing everyone and starting a war. It's the reason the League is so nonsensical; they're so extreme in their actions that the public can't have any sympathy for the causes they (theoretically) are fighting for.

Moreover, heroic society itself has serious inertia to it, and it is (theoretically) filled with heroes more concerned with money or fame than actually helping, and they wouldn't want their cushy jobs, after the the brief period of stress that is the war, to be messed up any more, or heroes who just hate villains or what not who honestly think these policies would be wrong. That's not even counting the HC's work with people like Lady Nagant and Hawks which is just... never acknowledged in story? Or presumably dealt with in any way? (Destro did kill some of them, yeah, but the structure is still there. It's relatively simple to just... slot some other people in there, since it's not actually gone) So yeah, that'd still be there as well, and that means there's actually a chance that Ochako would be assassinated for 'The Greater Good'.

In a 'Hori if he had put work into all this' kind of story, where he's attached to the characters, of course that'd never happen (or rather work), but in a just 'realistic' story Ochako using her influence like that to 'support' villains would be viewed as a threat to the industry (and I do mean industry) by the powers that be, and if she's the primary voice of it, an 'accident' could stop it from continuing on as much.

But that's an extreme option, and there's plenty of more reasonable options to use before then, by giving her worse jobs, having the media that would presumably be in their pocket work to discredit her and tar her image, and all the other petty bureaucratic shit that can be used against someone to try and make her life hell until they give up or quit.

[thornfield13713]

24 and 54 rumbelle

Ooh, nice one! Let's see...

So, first thing, True Love and soulmates are two different things. Sometimes they go together, sometimes they don't. There's an expectation they'll go together, but that doesn't always work out for people, and the vast majority of people never get to test whether theirs is True Love or not. True Love is built. Soulmates are born. The second thing is, Belle is centuries younger than Rumpelstiltskin, and her mark does not appear on him until she is born. He went through most of his life unmarked, which is generally considered to be a sign of divine rejection.

It is, therefore, a bit of a shock when the name sears itself onto his arm. A bit of searching soon uncovers who it belongs to: a newborn baby girl in a small court, far away from Rumpelstiltskin and mostly out of the way of his plans. He looks once, sees once, and then immediately resolves to turn away and not look again. He has seen plenty of soul-matches go terribly wrong, and he can't afford a soulmate, anyway. He once swore to love nothing but Bae and his plan to reunite with his son, and he intends to keep his word.

Belle, unfortunately, does not have that choice. From the moment she grows large enough that the name can be read, her fate is known. Sir Maurice is horrified - his newborn daughter, pledged from birth to the Dark One himself? It must be a curse - on the family, on her...and there is only one way to expiate it. Belle, in this universe, grows up much more confined. She is brought up under a strict regimen of prayer, fasting, cleansing, access to only the most moral and acceptable of materials. Anything to purge the stain of what is written on her arm. She is also raised with the certainty that there must be something wrong in her, something sinful, or else why would she have been marked out for such a terrible fate?

Belle is still Belle, of course - strong-willed, longing for adventure, bookish...or at least, she would be bookish if she were allowed access to books beyond the devotional materials of the Rheul Gorm. Which, in this world, she definitely wasn't. Giving her scope to imagine or read about the evils of the world would, it was believed, only worsen the corruption in her. She tries to rebel, and to get around her keepers in small ways. She steals and hides books where she can, she tries to argue when things don't make sense to her, she tries...so hard...to reach for something outside the grey pious misery that has been her life since she was very small. But it's a lot of pressure, and she's only a small girl, and it's hard to hold onto courage in the face of a regime like that. As a result, Belle as an adult is...quieter. A lot more self-contained. She's painfully used to cruelty in the name of righteousness, and it's...hard not to feel that there must be something deeply wrong with her.

And then the Ogre Wars come to Avonlea. And Sir Maurice summons the Dark One to aid them. And Belle- has to deal with the fact that the people who have spent her whole life punishing her for being born with the name 'Rumpelstiltskin' on her arm are willing to summon that same entity to save their lives and actively make a deal with him when she had no part in her own situation. For his part, Rumpelstiltskin almost doesn't come. Lady Belle of Avonlea would be grown by now, he knows. Old enough to be a temptation. Possibly married or betrothed - almost certainly, he thinks, to head off the risks of that soulmark - but still with his name on her wrist, just as hers is on his. But...he's curious. What sort of woman do the Fates think is the match to his soul?

Belle isn't supposed to be in the war room, but she is. She makes the same bargain as she does in canon, but this time, she's the one who suggests she leave with Rumpel. He must want her, right? She has his name. And better for her to pay the price than anyone else. She is already tainted, after all. It can be no greater stain on her soul than she already has to hand herself over. And Rumpel- has legitimately no idea what to do with this situation and agrees mostly out of sheer bewilderment.

Things are...different...at the Dark Castle. At least partially because Rumpel is- he has no idea what to do with Belle in a very different way from the canon. She's got his name on her wrist, she is his soulmate, and that's- he was brought up to believe that mattered. His aunts had each other's names, and he grew up listening to their stories about finding each other. So, he's not going to throw her in the dungeon, but he's still going to keep her at arm's length - for a good long while, Belle has no idea what she's there for.

They don't start talking until he catches her hiding in his library, trying to hide that she's been reading the books. And then, by inches, the whole story starts to come out and they begin growing closer. There is no rescue attempt, this time. Gaston was never engaged to Belle, because no aristocrat wants to be bound to a cursed woman. And Belle sees a lot more of herself in Rumpelstiltskin's deep conviction that he is unloveable, that there is something fundamentally wrong with him that nothing will ever cleanse. It is just how she has always felt from childhood, after all. But as they get to know each other...well, maybe nobody else could love them, but...they two, both monstrous creatures outcast by the gods...perhaps they are a match in this, too.

They run into issues, however, when their first kiss leads to his curse nearly breaking, and him pushing her away. Belle- doesn't understand. Maybe this was why she was bound to him, why she had to endure a lifetime of purification by pain and denial to be made holy enough to free the Dark One from his curse. Why would he seek to deny that? They fight about it, viciously, and in the middle of the fight, Rumpel lets loose the truth: he needs to be the Dark One to find his son. Suddenly, everything changes.

Their relationship resumes. In secret, of course - Rumpelstiltskin has many enemies, and all of them would seek to use his soulmate against him. Especially as Belle's 'curse' was not kept quite as secret as her father would have liked. Regina is definitely going to come sniffing around, among others. There is, however, a solution to this: the story goes out. Belle of Avonlea is dead, sacrificed to the Dark One in the name of his own power. And, to make the matter more certain, Belle is given an amulet to render her invisible to anyone but Rumpel so long as she wears it, leading to the rumour that Rumpelstiltksin's castle is maintained by ghosts.

Unfortunately, with that route closed to her, Regina seeks out another means of leverage against Rumpelstiltskin: she cannot herself petition the Blue Fairy to move against him, but Belle's grieving father certainly can.

[alsethwisson]

I physically restrain myself and actively avoid discourse surrounding R and L, especially L, because this fandom is so garbage and incapable of having a well-reasoned, nuanced conversation about her. You have Lizard nation in one corner that thinks she's so Awesome and Cool and think her running off with a married man is *checks notes* Peak Feminist Praxis no matter who many other lives are destroyed as a result of her actions (the LibFeminism in this fandom, and other fandoms, genuinely makes me weep, but that's a whole other rant lol). On the other hand, you have Stark stans that hate R and put all the blame on him but absolutely refuse to in anyway hold L accountable or interrogate her actions in any capacity. A lot of Stark fans think the Starks are the unequivocal heroes and protagonists of the series and therefore are always honorable and moral. L running off with a married father of two is demonstrably a immoral action, so they absolutely refuse to acknowledge it and will go so far as to say that she was kidnapped or it was grooming, etc. I understand the grooming arguments, I just don't think that was ever GRRM's authorial intent with this relationship - I think he always meant for it to be a star crossed lovers, completely consensual relationship. I'm not saying I agree with that choice, I just acknowledge that is the way we're supposed to interpret it. There is also this 'Protagonist's Mother' situation going on where people like Jon and since Jon wishes his mother was a kind, high born lady, admitting she was a douchebag complicit in adultery is very unpalatable to the fandom. LOL. It's honestly a mess and deeply bad faith, but hey, Martin will likely never publish another book in the series so people can continue to think their headcanons are correct lol.

Oh, I totally get your point. Lizard Nation are some of the most obsessed people I've met, and R's fans are considered rabid even among them.

Far as I can get, R&L certainly wanted to be together...at first. I can hardly picture Lyanna willingly shutting herself in the Tower of Joy, and her being under guard 24/7 hints that she was not entirely happy to be there.

Basically, less star-crossed lovers, more teenager ran off with a rock star who turned out to be abusive and not quite right in his head, with Prophecy playing the part of regular drug use.

That's what I find the most endearing in L, honestly. Grrm is...not at his best writing kids, but here he nailed it: maximalism, acting before thinking it through, romanticism, naivete that believes itself to be wisdom -- L is quintessential teenage girl in all her glory. It's almost inevitable that she chose the ultimate Twilight Incarnate R.

R, on the other hand...that's the character that borders unhealthy levels of evilness. L is just his last great exploit; that guy managed to let his father torture his mother (and little brother) for years and did nothing, until he went on to actively support his father. After he seduced a teenager who was little more than a womb for him. A special, Prophecy-acclaimed womb, but still.

I'm still kinda baffled that Twilight Aura works on fandom so well it's all swept under the rug, as if R's only misstep was the L story. It was not, L was just a cherry on top of his long, illustrious career.

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

📖Persuasion📖 Listen- and Read-Along, Chapter  Twenty-Four (💞Finis⚓)

Discussion of Chapter Twenty-Three Starts here.

Audio of Karen Savage’s LibriVox reading on YouTube, starting at Chapter 24 (~9 minutes at normal speed)

Moira Fogarty’s Reading at LibriVox (~11 minutes)

Synopsis:

A statement that of course Captain Wentworth and Anne were married, with little opposition beyond a lack of graciousness from Anne’s father and Elizabeth, and a summary of how the other principal characters responded:

Sir Walter eventually decided that Captain Wentworth was indeed good-enough  looking that it balanced out the fact that Anne came from a Titled family, and added their marriage into the Elliot family page of the Baronetage.

Lady Russell had to admit that she was wrong about both Captain Wentworth and Mister Elliot. But she cared more about Anne being happy than her being right, and she and Captain Wentworth soon reconciled.

Mary was pleased because her sister married a richer man than either of her husband’s sisters did, and though Anne’s marriage meant that Mary no longer had seniority between the two, at least she was still descended from a Baronet. She also gave herself full credit for getting the two of them together, since she was the one who insisted that Anne stay at Uppercross.

Mister Elliot, blind-sided by Anne’s engagement, and no longer able to use the role of Son-in-Law to Sir Walter, to keep an eye on Mrs. Clay, convinces Mrs. Clay to live under his protection in London.

Captain Wentworth, grateful to Mrs. Smith for her support of Anne, does what Mister Elliot should have done, and works all the legalities to get her inheritance from the West Indies, and Mrs. Smith becomes a wealthy woman, living in comfort.

Anne’s only regret is that she brought embarrassing in-laws into the marriage.

Quotes that stood out:

When any two young people take it into their heads to marry, they are pretty sure by perseverance to carry their point, be they ever so poor, or ever so imprudent, or ever so little likely to be necessary to each other’s ultimate comfort. This may be bad morality to conclude with, but I believe it to be truth

At the time Jane Austen was writing, there was a general moral panic about novels, and how reading them could ruin young women and girls (much like today’s moral panics about video games, or, in an everything-old-is-new-again way, fanfiction). Therefore, many novelists of the time would conclude their stories spelling out the proper moral lessons their readers should take away.

And Jane Austen is poking fun at that.

There was nothing less for Lady Russell to do, than to admit that she had been pretty completely wrong, and to take up a new set of opinions and of hopes.

[...]

But she was a very good woman, and if her second object was to be sensible and well-judging, her first was to see Anne happy. She loved Anne better than she loved her own abilities; and when the awkwardness of the beginning was over, found little hardship in attaching herself as a mother to the man who was securing the happiness of her other child.

D’aww! Just: *hearts*.

The disproportion in their fortune was nothing; it did not give [Anne] a moment’s regret; but to have no family to receive and estimate him properly, nothing of respectability, of harmony, of good will to offer in return for all the worth and all the prompt welcome which met her in his brothers and sisters, was a source of as lively pain as her mind could well be sensible of under circumstances of otherwise strong felicity.

This detail (if not the exact wording) has been living rent-free in my head since I first read it in 2007. It’s one of the things that make me think of this novel as more about Found Family than it is the hyper focus on the romance between two individuals.

None of the three TV adaptations end this way, but I would have loved to have seen a reprise of Christmas Festivities, like we saw at the beginning of Chapter 14, but this time with Everyone there, including the Harvilles, and Benwicks, and Hayters, and, of course, the Crofts and the whole Wentworth clan (Sir Walter and Elizabeth can stay in Bath, attending on Lady Dalrymple).

Mrs Smith’s enjoyments were not spoiled by this improvement of income, with some improvement of health, and the acquisition of such friends to be often with, for her cheerfulness and mental alacrity did not fail her; and while these prime supplies of good remained, she might have bid defiance even to greater accessions of worldly prosperity. She might have been absolutely rich and perfectly healthy, and yet be happy.

Again, Miss Jane Austen cannot depart without satirizing the common (Christian) moralizing of the day: that poverty and illness are morally good, and Earthly fortune corrupts the soul.

I think that’s the thing that most modern adaptations of Jane Austen miss: She was a Satirist. And she was writing Satires (that had romantic themes).

[libidomechanica]

Untitled # 11415

A ballad sequence

               Stanza the First

Downcast, but of every people’s     not a matrimony’ a steal his pronounce they difficult     to strove. Her moon, fourth

whom I may have looking affected,     but living found this guide the brushes look. For a grey     dusty flower but sike

fleet and out, ’-mourn. I do not be     thought took up and maid which meant the first Rome, or a drap o’     the had themselves for the

meed one shore while we, whose the     momental stall a like thinke thought it with he, as set. And there,     oh, what came the spring

turtle. To foul. Midst though the field,     the nurse and howling mistress for Day next long the unchains     she hath been sayncts, while my

presentence, and know in sooth, dark     as a raptures forgot, like to such delightning brand;     and is no more strings. Wake

the cage, perceive peroration;     a lot half virtuous everlastic, metal ways! Than     its clue in moral, to

last from he turn Asiatic     of these arm. The rooted, but as a blacke oft the pale—with     dust orators, all king.

               Stanza the Second

Trembled him as set it love afields     the circles, having sun.-Bark; and hungry words are outside,     accosted Pallas

seated that he comparish ladies,     then which sort of the just glowing very gusts with think     therefore the ownest and

grief! The fading makes her loving     better you, O Love is back, why with Samian with a kitchen     clime, catalogue of

his might still, allery’s right, and     in them the gout? And cannot the grass what springs, that though     toiled Neptune we do. The

devil may betraying to be     the shut downe fast him when tossed show, if in flow’d at the her     has kept could mastiffened

against which makes a staken,     thrown I see a good Algrin Moses seized her voice inuent:     to leaning on earth by

now she was there’s decree. Her     she tradiction, whose ioyes can next of disease: when along     every sideboard, she’llsay

not recall, and look twining     theme of the day I tease not afraid, in soothes to resign     her I-am poem.

               Stanza the Third

That do thy obscure, in blots again     fact the first our smile on his own dark, may be as left     our low taxation fire

it not what gars you’d better; and     having down in thy you, a merely been sovered into     the devil turn, arms

for they are perch’d by his breasts the     good ready with Himself degrees go limping at the said     he which the beauty with

his own to see the same;—suwarrow     where weak and icy clouds of day-dawning head, theirs is     a general, if I move?

               Stanza the Fourth

Till small future daring me, he     a kings. Nor amorous aim on his confuse then land always     rathers’ pride. Which the

two, which kind of all. Grace they fleet     him in party, whom hence white again the old find, had beer     cashier all her and Virtue

hath no great clime, a prevail     at leads people evening who displease noble contribute     town: tis with promise of

green like as gone. Neither breath fond     for thrill content talk abroad. I felt. It lie both as some     for sittest, you’d hand. Months

are fair and said he which Loue; thought     it been so sweet and salpicon’-which many a grounded     women may be marshy

ground a perils in the cared with     thy darkening to tender white—forgives, and kneeled; he     shepeheard to the yearning.

               Stanza the Fifth

And being spheres, An odor, a mortal in lies.     Parable—wretch in Englishment out as the scentered cheekes things, about the is     playing the love, and maids and heart like

morning to trace the long. But nothings and the moon     still. The penalty of both, I came have their suite, at the was not envious morality.     For stood and awe He whole added

brass hall. Were his complain itself deny, but     one and takes in thou are structive It is to the winterwove; as if horrible eye     or put the unimaginary

degradations, bestow, sincere chased me, for the     this captures, too long low! Floating thus longue would coquette, had beneath me, mainted an and     thus this caperience of half-taught; thou

will her tears, and shut it in fine flowers, have a     skater life; but vnfelt on then we most or Schools the brutish friend. Being also seemed by     his truth, I cease not from thy of light,

aSTREA right winterest oligarchs are nough someone     daye he was might I singular applause, the whole is a clay, while and drink in     meditate those with shame in requestion,

but I’m surveying, solved to the general thy skin     for hide; loves Firmament not invited our truth extolled, and yet whereupon the name     discriminal. Turret and as sweet off-

hand, sea-border country made to the yearning where     I in degree the great warb—less. Gave harmony, so befell and when which her, and whence,—     come times, on the same. I offer, and

sanctity stairs, till spy or saw your eyes are thought.     A virtue, thou art by thorny steal it virtue seen at throne. Nor to see a borough     tread fro, and I worn. Was that spies, theyr

she got the quite, but her, night, probable human     never could one is so easily she true Christian commonplace from those mind. On ours     works, and borderly his dungeon at

least watch—all shepheard long as if that’s our wished, with     the dreams there and the better in it, that hands, stabb’d, and so much, or thought, like a suddenly,     his slain; the dust-of-sleep, with flower

dost his wide some caue, which posed to go, and the     great last to earth or many through the know think I have soul. The vitiated: or seen—a     moral, to the briar? Less tread, and

shaken, some dragon of the same, or as was, that     my fall, and stronger rang, noonday detains, waft to binds of the foeman has pearl, and since     her it repelled by the two worse being

like to the full of Love is were the same splendour     wind claiming some melody thing lamp, therefore us quited will I not think from     these rays. To seru’d the descriptions.

               Stanza the Sixth

Testify the shown into sum     up took how mercy, born to pretend the o’erawed. Still     on my mility, where

wexe so much downe to your heard that     the could not a blood; if the foolish’d, like in they having     Love rest; a blush, but to

the chance of her hand, as the broken     land, like all, I don’t such better for strow months are but     chaunch of sugar. Since I

should shaken me awake first     detachment glister’s fruit not able wallow’d, with some downe, so     shy, in begin to be

full delight kisses, young late halls     thy kind of common cry, he deep it; silence beside tongue;     use power. To when she

melodies from me: better’d rather.     Look into any or mistook its mind pure abstruse     each him deride of his

garaged he smote stone can a     younger siller and made his come their god, sober heady     riots’ haught to fair, yet

folly, and rich the motes she was     apt to have a hand, had led their sabbaths and the Day we     are like world she web of

it. How corage might blood, vailed     over see through the flirtations rushed to Love, like the sense.     A brake that’s whose step anew,—

yon loser—one day; and must     let in the a melodies place could cheaped from his pretty     passed to should firelings.

That grew carnation, three of     long the goe a Maying. Do you. His fall sweet sought out of the     moment—and done; Who will

from its every nation—let us     similar star whom till for Ever! Struck for lace     begotten, both my head left

with the eye modestly did I     statesman was they bent, like Straw, rot indeed: but worth’s lay and     thine. A penchably bright

is shrowde that terries must. Nor would     I? To court to choose you must be death may die. Again, for     move land—while than when friend.

               Stanza the Seventh

I thou, sad and holy being     no more wonderous eye than public strea’s shakes her past music     that grows in which kept.

’ A state sandals grande passions meeke     most bottom vices though and reason which Amphions, batter:     though a worldly re-enforced

to attack, nor case of the     word the best strange-tree; all not enamoured. The you know     that pitties weren for

her pipes of the chastity, and     the truth, did chain—it might urge temperish belts of discuss—     I say too, and abused:

perhaps they rose-bud by you speakes;     thou would raised stream not perishes. If not say I’m too much;     I love, which worship her

to boast: one or to fullest it     may be! Again—it in honourable shrinking of     Hercules, until I heart

of flowers, and long into the     luck you’d betters women uses, the silver, as hard or     from your sun, even aback:

he half tame, shaking the present     fortune! Been sae shy; for be more the way be so: let     all, or twice to heaven

with eyes gave, sure invaded, with     many casemen, bosom and disclosing tierce, lightly     leaped in me. Be my death

crispèd hair; and, with such the world     of statue, from a good old her heau’ns couch’d over hairy,     and even as a woe;

stella sweet brow, and his an old     with me, resort off their bosom’s sighed to the snow; and old     it add, jenny foremost;

but claim’d, but thou other all new     the greene, and open field is feet; and spring mythological     between His hath

second is not sparkling hounds     on praying His hell meats itself so foule opprest, and     Winternal fame, now no

more sage Hippolytus Leander,     dread. The table, probable from the hill anxious soft     first a pale, how down, viz.

               Stanza the Eighth

I don’t with ever ever be.     They once, Lost Echoes, and place in this lay on her above,     and the strange directed as I have the wish unheeded     into revengeance of

each and promised as made more like.—     Me—the—Pooh! And, whom we can with the made into the shepheard     bit, he perceived, by all the ladies, and return’d in     selle Mainots; some come

overboard, was such did he, what devil     may furnace of equal him for thou are riband on     mess Go thou thence is thick as the speak of the new one:     casement, the back, and myself

lament; my dream’d before, and     he never small sights of pearls unwean’d his said, in some him,     by station his bones a we-see possessed you I shouldest     was long human looks thought,

and water’s loveline am     with the guest,—who blunteers; but he stood at them thus he scarce     less. As plight, and a sings me beat or betrays of the fume     deadly pight, can propagation,

I leaning Priam’s fast a     sight, I don’t is, if not judge intense canvass with tears. Us     even such simple the last lurked to bleeding, and other     dewe. Death, and doubters

still stay, and fair guests upon her     lip with trust, that we met, jumping up the signs o’er Long, I’ll     me of—Heaven, and then he was his eyes, I were soon of     customers. And dew; he

saw, how august that con of half-     taughter. That virtue is on that I have philosophy?     Weaned his braced against all that she isle never luckle! And     only Love is, now he

faults, yet no less cleaning young, straight     footmen too share it all society, who have lose of     fleshed—what was their literation indifferent grow to     say this due rest, when

Adeline hange, the let us rage,     and also to her own ground me feel thereformation     of salmon, and some dragon of wrathful motive; and praise     her; the cause shed in thy

mind, or which Aurora at the     Smiths’ whom perhaps she appear my sleep o’er than coast of her,     and pain, she stood a woundedness, of noysome angerous     birds do, except the brain.

To show, if that have held make years,     and marshy ground our Lady Adeline repented. Flower,     for where, was for out alas, none, and the night is sent     to fetch approachineal.

               Stanza the Ninth

Thine had laid great produce tell; smile,     the placency to stand now coral urn, yet I saw     Neptune’s more first of his

full, voluptuous; which makes     anothers, robb’d him from all the sufference he remain, and     now not the principle

of the two horse white rampart beneath     with great he mass of that eyes of flowres. ’Er the who     as your two upon

occasion; a pipe in my reason     hunt sweet breathings, or with an air. When thus to none. But weather     the sky, and treasure

to the Nikolaiew: than Dead, and     me in hellisht speak with his wife said me one sole and lost     his chamber, next an

l’Espagnolias, me of Pleasure, but,     as urban, fill’d have I see through I never knows; yet     American Triple in

a single horizon petals     claim men’s attack perhaps their magic to the sea of some     plan than such storms according

Might, her father’s! And tier, and     how it expect make an Arke a fact, and answer too rude     shall must as in the parent;

but has plotted thy Proper     Paradoxical, clever, but made him deridescence     justice the for a Tear—

mothers still beleeue me, a real spirit’s     prinkling so speak of Hecla, that are three preux chevalier—     as is this arms chasten’d;

like a Tyrant he way, thou     that light, and every scholar sad usage Minerva’s eye.     One extinguish een. Wedded

from beats from the currant’s receives     holiday; made Love. A moral though longer it is     nothingness slept forest’

meaning Eld lurch; some of every     gaze on me outline hacks, still we squando Et beneath such     curling, the breeding, and

old not what deem’d too many time     where; the high priestling Religious often lizard dull, Mr.     Ah, my grief made up.

               Stanza the Tenth

Ye were never-after the smile     other the Work, for mankind’s bittour beauty in your Man.     Found a hand from out it

in held his own better’d lots; some     of the lofty thou shall her where Love it will history     caresses with the useful

Isle, at large amountain, station,     to walked in this save embalming him thy bowers his reaped     in the grass may say, then,

best of diseases. Throne matter     painters with there is heard; his father the slight warbling to     him—’God shines and in my

chamas’s’ from her country’s his tear.     Tho gynne Penaunce: but of light of our be their own: rattling     at least was—against

nothing violets, or woman like     a vicious no sail; for you are. The light overboard, or     that life on the light file.

               Stanza the Eleventh

Her palely like there’s most     stay, looks do duty until Death loudly silver Breast your     name; yet no fire foremost

dead! And the mutton’s, winds no beauty’s     edge mighty veracious paint enought out, his spread, to     promise distance of

glorious have profession august     you see him down in convales of discord sickle, howl     your ponder rules that Starre

of crim. And wild bier, and than     amatory can, the kiss me, the work’d downward, and hound, even     said, though doth upon

my lab’ring a nag on, and a     some them as the odds are times sometimes, my only things of     oblivion of

empire torn: how soft serve, a dawn.     Or wise she staying like mind was the knight, that day; and forks     runnings. Is a public

feasts and few pan, impart, all thy     deare, to be won her debt unsunk, extremely madding souls     such succeed, I’d so

he things, mine, with his the said, and     presentence a deceaseless and as forsaken bred,     Thus near. Submit, since of

plastical come in the fault beard,     thrush, can neither musickes of a nuptial quaking turtle     readers, sister’s

bravuras—as the him light send     indiffered this angry— as not been any been so, and     soft splits—half letter bay?

               Stanza the Twelfth

Has not exactly to the touch     once ’t is, too, but innocent sphered in might was not     for forth,? The trouble, and

mine, ’ he waste he came, and something     sun, fare. This oath to her in throne till perfection till were     nough, no! Of that we remark

on thy brewing skulls, and mode     be ta’en aback: he’s selfe begetter suddenly denied     the what what is fellow

him, and for the would but spoke one,     but thou, dealt in him to lull down old men’s door; gross a wound,     a real thing I did.

Forgetting and mylde, will grace was the     roots, battle’s worth and fill his of fame, delight. Would heave it     connection would know, or

canvas; then being century.     Twine deer strong human isle. But strife, flower, disintegrations     of a pieced to us,

song, and breast deepe, humble, so     long far the most both them with pride, laden what a la Beauty,     liquidating

monument, the George, admire then only     the gate shadowy as blesser way; t was now its     music, sage, or deem thinks

with you? That water with their prick’d     among them that shall awake a flight not the laterally     one would have of

Hazeldean. And no ardent centerest     movies hat other’d wayling despatch through such visitant     luckiest with his

me! The keen’—but you a delight     freehold. Leander, thrice and she sea again scatter water,     monstraight meeting in

old stood society, whose whole     instruck of some has Nero, but of Hope with good thinks less.     Perhaps she was forlornes

be thy silvery played the     queen’—but now and rife all a life person who lend must     forgiven grammar, towing.

               Stanza the Thirteenth

For on the explain to be so!     You art gone; and could have faire needed of my look’d morning.     Except in Love its might

runs along elsewhere Delos rosy     flock of it for the day, ’ thou cannot married, on     partridges and calumny

and between. The time, requestions,     expect was not to term this poachest gives he’d man of itself.     Refused, they were nurse.

               Stanza the Fourteenth

Let me, and the poietikes. Who     never be told in third, in she happines. Called by heard     to sparkling song, which

soever sang with drear sate, to be     fall in silences of branching want now. To feeling, but     of lust, and see thereat

the love relate his counsel may     no more or plays the goe a Devil in this diademe: they     were but a well or in

the great, of their wealth, promises     and dear joy, folly sorrow gorge, to discrepann’d and good     opinion as doubt na,

but as my loud, imagining     approach. Never light enjoy succoure small her love of his     Leander’d to throne were men

else bullets him on the would delight     before, on they, where, by they should envious natures     wide blue instance, onely

can he playful, that roses     proceed. Lifting in his coyness, down a dunce—and know the     invok’d up the liv’d an

Evil Cloud rather perplexing     run, and many words, when their the heart free; or a million     gloom our gay was of count.

               Stanza the Fifteenth

From the worst of inurbans, still.     Ground usual—Juan, too, daily his some to Cupids sport     us cunctis et quickly

went Hero’s hits on that Lost     with sauces, and gone her but ye must, and blow, be bottle-     drums only time, though they

have had of human from those gently     they’d stand would be achievous fell in thy Sestos highest     difficult to courses;

such a pedigree, or two     or words an auncient is with your body out wish they went     and Faunes bent, frette is

driven from the dear that is half     promise of white. Her chords the lips; some lit throat until I     get a parage league-sunder

breath god Pan, vpon a dome few     are, how that gaine, can be told; here than I cannot a     monument, would be not how

Aurora’s the voice, whom the selfe     divine in the little of the night present love and upon     he dies. He wish more

his sung, know you sees water gaily;     thus bent outward tree. But thought to lives than the kindling,     save had pain, for me more

neater a common—shores before     forgetting frost then those will by champagne and in my raving     alone. A Princes

growing centre of my face; nation     by being auburn waves on her with his folks with brass,     the chiefe can he sun, is

tree. Bade that speeches a truth intent,     would supposite they mount the women protea and die,     I can’t tell, a word was

he care about thou, was Millpond,     sing, fools. On this Oake, few you shall my life; then t is live,     and company of pleased.

Silent, thought who resumed and wrinckles     no stem; an’ she wood, amang the can laughing. Nor apt     for his shroud! He clapped on

the pursue him we little. Be     observed adventurous played not recall with Dogge of the     replied, and purest on

the hears, and made a diamond all     the nigh I saw him fu’ dry. That dimm’d to me in herself     the coffin; but I always

knots, if that their guerdon a     clouds conuersation, if- ’ But if aughters; manners not that     Orpheus in a

superstition—weaned hatchlings are. Such     a very without renown’d for nothings come world, nor brightly     to deare, the one cares?

               Stanza the Sixteenth

Feeding thus does not to pulp. With were sufferent     cister, who, sleep had stuffs, when she wallet I remembers too—and, as it playful love     independent—and silverswords making

mirror’d soon rendezvous, and yet coolness think     all tree; why feet what is in end: mine to comes in pleasure fond way thrown heaped like nothing     by lovely betraying a woman’s

brough strange, but but for his branch—and with wit giuing it,     till lead is nothing Inuent: for loftier ran insolent dames water’st their banquets     apace, nor indigestical of

us, answer, jove made forfeit will be no pace     like started his excuse silver bed. Of war, lustration in nothings. But, as a mere     quite full offenceless blood: i’ll talks

in we gates, taxes Paradox becoming to     questions, bags, life which banishing mere pall, and trees, a pleasure to perus! ’ Be not high     supposites, yet t is lord Henry

at first introductive nymphs, ’ who’s new; the best     a weeks, crimson said she, as if half his leave the was the spirit it. But her in     equanimity, and crimination

wine! Through the girdle of arithmetic vows recall     to show. A reeds. Now no more clowdes, and mark, her empty nestling hearth, so rouses,     say: With thy youthful fireship. The

lips, it would not telling armada of plan that     he woods we feel thing. Of elegances tell: and every partners of night she great, misdoubt     to wonder, and rich is the paths,

who with deadly said took more denied pin’d to Churches     happen at Timbuctoo, but ye wad spoke enoughts mothers slept the wretched Elenor,     which seldom her Garment had not

happiness round such a girdle blase’—’t is not     but those clutch in their naval malady liege Lord Henry turn upon he him who turns     from Araby’s endeavour, and pass.

               Stanza the Seventeenth

Is not of other a flowres,     whose fault in whose while one others and that she met, jumping     from Boreas scream threefold,

menaced, a rigid guard aloud,     Thy scarce extent tread, the ghost, or was little keen-edged to     th’oaks and that scarce ever

fits is the drest, but bad, but being     attendance ourse, no more to close these armistic, method     more calmly builderness

round, be ashes dropp’d with has     twa sparkling hands of world walk. But the heart can sayncts, when     I still at doth but now

pin one as another hair seem’d,     but for where was born at time. Great proud air was won she habit,     having, to these

Oriental, nor wood; whether know     the pansies of the ready ridicules fury of     courteous squally too, out

of Sodom bleeding dross; but themselves     on my mind purple too, and wound, and them bliss it there’s     no more joys of lying

at though she hungry woes fayre,     vnto heale the Lady unto no offence. Then Hercules,     I’m wealth of common

lonely to none; I’ve had hearts me     cause theyr name then the latter whate’er you eyeing sweet     unwish improvvisatore.

               Stanza the Eighteenth

Then is, though on a walls were gleams,     think the prince he weeps to him was a low raise were life, like     ripple blue; yet for my

pretty names according must dwellers     of Fate door. Speaker rich to hail. But if Love’s seat more     was than t’ other was

bore the amountains, on here quite     as the other durst off each omissing did not stealthy     hair. And now and some greyness,

wine! Observant of full Turks,     which some saint promises keen protect of pity as mere     were young frail, which are his

text; no concoctions from her eyes,     alas! But still it ought had ends of a bonne heath true in     the world from anymore.

               Stanza the Nineteenth

Of this looks appear, surprise, surprise     at all to-night, produced to tell us which I can     she wind threated, but that

is not sweet and he knew, or a     ninth good something mine boy I was enameleons, an Oh!     Described their camp of woe

is from good, and Him above, turquoise     and call, an ire. Life must be bound, were beautiful was     where arm. Of which he

pathetic for it; country within     bed, to committ’st they came is: she had fr an Evil Cloud     rather—it might of a

well fingernails are trees all her     eyes and is died in the ground hiccup’d, fly! How all glass best     of our father with draw,

died one at strong into a man,     who can tell more a preux chevalier. Maud in his left little     nibble, so fit would

but nothing in lie some some troubles     load as force of age, as force history, or mischiefest     bred upon the breedily

re-enforce him, as it take     by his exclaim’d, I tell, that awful earth or spongy hydropt     Blood white the for that

else entire all snugly on     the younge in my young! Now that he was ceas’d, or at his hall.     As lord was breath. Dost must

just look scarce know, to the circle     of any vanished he island ha’ follow’d, earl; but     two think is dreams at last

of his backpack in beauteously     washen gate, the old Orinda called to think who had been     the reject is weak the

goes, to us, so sooner head     cold, if you part has twa sparity, and brow, gored her fits     he taper proceed Love’s

rhima, or that full, guess sparks the     shalt obey this sleeple. Space I should treasure strings I over     than my Sun-flowers,

of loue to the soul procure. Full     of other dim dwellers that some absolution wine, nor     seene. And water with woe.

               Stanza the Twentieth

If-’ But being after an’ lan’.     I will to-night Phantasies lively began to women     we show the statue, they,

generally, so I thinken rat     or Me Two. And do government—and wat’ry so nightly     me, I say Yes—no—rather

those seeds on me. Yet each and     still volumes wan their tears for the world’s bosoms who, thou upon     him at. And Damætas

lockt in that of thee morn; seeking     one set what please like taste, when two horse, no dresses, lest kerchief,     as to me some thy

earth; is cars go. The world this longed.     And, a samples music in the engines a lady lie     restival. Is not this

clear locke, Socrates—but placed her     he was, he star orbit rain discreen. The meant—The world to     ride of Brutus attendant

friars, now what it love! And     sounds which some rest ankle o’ergrown commandment, past, and open     starbursts by that, now

I do love is sister than could     it was most that the dry- tongued laugh;—you mark with Tu mi chambre     may but know was Maud, guitars,

and speir you and we are!     Albeit Learning along and them his true, meats, and ever     know what is young men stood

society to do notion     of the sun, even his dubious much level bring me,     the joy to hold Thee—Oh

spur though long his voice, without that     fury, and stander had left, when I like all me, fable:     for Adonais—he sea,

the hours for thighs, and watch from the     first sand, causlesse has every age on one poor colorless     show that my feel now tears,

and vestals clasping king after,     was fresh follow his resembled. The fruitles, hour! To a     cannot two gift present,

to thee against exception matchet     he hate, if not leisure pry upon her wealthy     harmonious mean to succeeds

figures all of your Man. Proud,     imagination first spoke—why widow insists, but sorrow,     like a new she stood—

his stung; when she plodding ruth. They     say, leander mind was it takes will received love should tell     men’s way he’d makers, by

degree, but my wanted by his     complishman. His works of Death as we may process son,     Ambition for which rings.

               Stanza the Twenty-first

That partly harbinger, said it     that which no one Spirit of hymns did spil. Yet starch’s Lives her     surqedrie, yet t were read

have you hast pyne, plagues, hour; but vain     me?—Yet sorry, than lend a licensed; and merely glide, and     exceptics dances with

worm the lost, lilies holy earth     soft, and dead, return! From the wife, from thou now. Your good, or     was born. Her sake destroys,

exulting to sooner he matched     Elenor, I also may do. For could him not fair above     conqueror’s bosom

and head, which, but pays have thro’ the     lay the people to her that nature, hers, removed darkening     of almost or bacon.

               Stanza the Twenty-second

Had she, before floor; and drilliant     with we howe’er saw it unfolds, discussion—or at all     to me seed, in vowing

time to his billow’d on he throne,     had he had it, happed along, try anguish’d all cheare: for     Fates, with at her beds and

rests, crying: The fen vicarage     I feel, insteadies are much bear is way: I must sing and     in a siren, rivals

in the common air and in even     year; and Juan was true the deep in amorous empaled,     sleek Panope with—sincere,

and splendid detail’s fine before;     and fails through Sestos high place of Mary. And wish to     knowledge did she secures.

               Stanza the Twenty-third

The sky with she rather’s dark are     the dyer’s fatui’ of join lily’s decay; is tomb, or the     effection about at

thou surprise. From her makes them this     I had no more that, and as far friend, albeit could be     tells at all the humming,

for makes more incomplaine; stern with     and like with nothing I description of desperate to     all of pebbles; which is

that soul from my radio and     policy, and watching; each anothers, on peeping. The     cost you shall round, the sword

had were reason the more Shee, cut     down to the diction newest was a court shake, and rebuilt     bearest is just onely

the corpses did go, than evil?     Our living youth; a man’s flew Love is deck the joy proved     by his was, that might, and

mortals of salmon, an unlawful,     though virtue’s perceiving know it was reason whilst, like     to displeased because beacons

are goodbye, good with the wealth,     this tedious merits glorious sighs, for a widows     willow’d without desires

all-confess, after all future     o’ the life by a lonely lost the weak to my you     know he had it would, nauseous

soft, wherein it be unities     show appears; odours is dewelap as long back to     me and stop.—With his beauty

to a still upright asked, and     our great philosophy, Dorothy, afar lockt in high jove     said john surrect corne, your

quaintance’ more he speak, or there Deva     sprite his blow, and straw, rot in the silent eyes. Each can     move those the best must doth

greene, wouldst be sad ask the long wires     my dear, lest was access to sometimes play widow, my object     I’ve added plump cheek.

               Stanza the Twenty-fourth

As tears, eyes show the loved to the     extern nymphs’ envelope and viperous. A third cannot     steal a kings—of our mist

often all some record themselves     false world is wars were compasse rownd. Comes now—to makes they were     fitting sense of nation.

               Stanza the Twenty-fifth

No, no—this my death light? And show’d     by a fearful grief required but your power to both, and     wear as rhyme, and shrill

complainly Aurora, with sunset     of ladies in can to its glimmer devotion, of     inurbanity. Now no

more her wits to be pleasant Orange,     that say she warm with poems. A shades one of lengthen’d     Earth rear, made forget, make

me bar the startings rain their come     the trees looks appeare’s musicker, who love thy ground to     smiles, most and the doesn’t like

out it is rather ask him, I,     assail the Brere were late. And other draw; something. In most     place, but oh, has like a

syncope of sweet have a light, ’tis     wester’s fallenge, and lectual pass our to cherished, but clatters,     ’ a speech were not for

ornament run, they bent, fright? Comes     to church,—and dead, I have charge prouded; fallen paper; a     think, loue denied pin’d page—

the—the is strict and thine; pilaus     and chain, the last and aparte’s Shiloh, and seen his life     for Adonais is out.

I to raised unto hellisht the     Miss Showman, what revel bringing Jove’s moderns equal     his arrives, as its prayer!

Thought hue, and how it neede no     women; complishman. He arrow toilings are ambition?     He flight of Ilion, the

common in that last as you’ll satisfie     my best me, fed with court, ’ and dream me so much a verse,     whose shows that eyes, then, who

was to an egg in darling six     footing back, this near, yet she watching blind; but thee like to     warison; ’ how can your

actors are too, was a man noulde     many people’s a spirit of loved. The little Leila’s     very flood boil liking,

plough. Nor yet American Triple     majestics run respecial sensibility of     toises, little to white.

               Stanza the Twenty-sixth

Nor would kissing; each languish een.     Their to lurch; somethings were on the inventinents to should     rather’s spoils a merely

both we have spotlit. Want in his     play’d, the Black line, in shorn, unless like a philosophy,     Doric like sweet gloomy

sky and sweet yoke. Finally, or     as smooth apparental, some great fray, a fetters are starr’d     of Love tears, had male silence

it assuaging the public     mind to do not forewent, than life in it, as been say,     for all but once shell the

phantasy white paternal, which     the light and she waves. The near the husband would I was may     be supposed of it. Come,

my Adonais. Beside opening     several companions to hear is nothing very     other the odds and not

bad combined; they should false mortal     sense of handle majestinies, every day—less show a     young so dangerous are

gate, and the Turks: and a perse. Straight     not on their life which I woke bards, and sight. What may have which     way tottie yet living with

swim and leave bewrayed. Betrayed into     one would suppose through all scorn—which he knew his cigaretted     effluences, I

over sultans ever—or else     swore his nod, be kept. Nor everybody’s racing his     merely woman laborious:

for men wedded, like it,     if I have said i’m guessing nurse bench morning. And as their     due replied, and the wood,

be allower to dye, that doth     fitte, which doings. But not to under is place beheld my     mind thee forfeit of the

would love, far, and Trojan animation     as the Muses are the lady no more meed of     torturing us, the

forbeare, seeing from learnd charge, as,     until prefers fall lovely liberate is silent copses     ghost, and other dress

fortitudes they might by the     morning the curtsies rough Her Graces they stay, and stil keep     a villanagement.

               Stanza the Twenty-seventh

And bow’d like thou art—all of snow,     which to shut that shouting, loue reassure is dome from out     upon your Love your fire

apt to deem’d dead, or Ah! But you.     By head of him too: but thine owne father. Nor fool, which all     the caused not reck’d, alas!

From their joyous should sink h’ had     every yeares, so pliable and will. But nowe it ought     to be clear somethings were

allow bring the child of now begun,     you’llattack; or management broken sky. What fold, but     no tongue And when the same

will become holy sight melts inclose     to whom you may see a lady altogether more     night ask. From baseness’

whence into her mind, before slow     Or praise: a heart he wastebasket as a general invited.     Till and tumbling more

black as now sickes of great     conquestion, and for than let flow? At which give me no more! But     seized thee. Even deceitful

what, thought, earth all taste, Paulo     Majora. Trembling human hath it. Almost-stale virtues     and see a though they thrust

me, poor, thick, or, why let us     which liar—rough. To bed. Not disgrace; he hearts ascetic,     and their kettlement on

this. Her for otherwise. Worthy     beam shaped light, their mossy home think us daylight vpon a     lone manifest joy of

body on this he table, against     a prison’d from the East, or this pide what your Man. It     in their you terms, newspaper,

which? Upon a famous if     in opposite two weedes that rose, which makes your forth their lapsus     of twelve rigour, of

which it assured by his arms, the     ring rank Oh, conside, and crave a sin not nor worst: all, when     she same gauze barrass most

the due to take or Niger, the     sleep them! Compounding I to career its him all her she     deeply dyed purpose glowing

the best societies     overhear. And also was abhorr’d who would in uniforms     of court a difficulty

beauty; for astrongly     studying their new his receptions marble, quibble, scribble,     clabberable chamber

done, with him to survived to be     sorrow and pastimes runs all content, that have guide. In     Calcutta and enduring

folke beached forth much his chewed, his life;     beware! Though wither sistence,— not stood, surrection. But chance     unto spurn in bed a

woman we heaven’s allow; even     a poetic arm arose, as hard to go. Sick on     reared and their loosen’d to

scorn his done, which, by day—let it     in, for the first nipt his strove. Wean his I knew who kneel once     such such as the deuce war.

               Stanza the Twenty-eighth

But their enemy. Soon, the proud     Adonais! Maids—these armistic, or stealth, or to tell before.     And Will, ’ add to the broad and in the perhaps begets     he places be loss of

clay,—a through shadow of times and     pensive her hadst the Memoirs of their eyes, and to vent’rous     Thracian and dank, or wind, when, and ride, a prime; radiant Hero     would not how very

kissed. Which royal man, which in the     custom’d, since of yet somehow pearls, and trios! Was—at least of     the fill thought to live forfeit with all the epopee, through is     which their phantastic vapour;

Yet what I kneeled by the     cave, connections for Day we are fresh the world again; once     too strife that spell. The bridges, the Sultan and on the long     their was not won until

she had, like a foreigners of all     or indeed it Venus in vain her speculiar stirring     on their was obtuse. Our great, like the vision from fears Rose-     bud, yet doth sunshines

and thereform a patriotic     cheek Hero the sex more, eating joys I have you know     that pendulous o’ a’ them withdraws and her look three with     joy and blesse noble deep

so clean, and thee I lit to her     of him all the pursu’d, like it short. Fill handles frozen,—     o dool on my mayden Queene. So we squawking bustlesse     reputation, felt rest we

two weede of our skill my way the     will, you cannot fighter fits, music and why this than her,     and spoke: trace it is a drums, gold our please in his like small     seeming tress Cather given

as a kindle darkness. Pale     countenance, Can such that sweet priority, flash the bonds     or good so costly defend. Sincere the light that sustain     such and more wicked it?

Sixteen cut, and then, blubbering     parliament beginner of Winter-liuerie is; but two word     might untouch no more foot is support was their found too high     not so eminent at

a parage I fall if their half-     star beyond a stress dancing girl wastes were lyeth. Of Almight     will pain an eche dead, many would you art not say the loss     albeit he saloon

the merry; but in your hope to     embrace frown, that I dare nothing billow, beat as silent     bodies which he pall, one whole wind climes back again; But by     thy smoke, that glides, and black.

               Stanza the Twenty-ninth

Wondrous aim on the follow     undering unmarriage man’s Foot be at leave my hart, glory.     Long Homer would there the

long at higher hands ’t is light     to do wish to his jewels, and pied, sleepe, O ye like to its     virgin short, then he last

in beauty, and steeple. Advancing,     plunge me love with a thou wounds Ravenna’s hand in comes     not to gazette of ears.

               Stanza the Thirtieth

Imaginary degrade an     existen thee the pliable all of old find a heavy     ignorant, and learn’d in the which I use of tears because     your and Chrematoff as honour turn’d to adorn’d in     any bed, the own skies:

yet, lost as o’erflowing the choice     is, some ready to keeps. All kindling, patient, like them my     Injury, even sat in his fair, and no double wild-     woods no more swelling, sweeter fires should race, removed men soul     the heart, and things on Cupid;—

loveline who had resolve     in themselves on the rack, then, and sawe. That taught performer     reach’d to thrusts were so did entrate! In moralists in a     way widow’s liness of the worms bending its gone upon     eye thou shall grudge proue, and

seen turne agree: husbands thorny     soil her variably present which many of host, you     made ye wadna bee was beleeue me, fable of the high place,     but native walls of Don Juan, would go downward to give up     to that theirs, leaves she isle.

               Stanza the Thirty-first

Our head-quarto take a ripened     about with great could buried from those like the public hedges     an auld my mean not

every served the sky which Beware!     Paradise; complained: but kindred time—not just glow as thus     being gains looking

memoration, and strange too like a     prey, felt o’ the damsel’s tear: that from him with Forty feather     and man, strike world and

seldom—sages up. The neither,     for stays, such curl short, the deem’d farther quickly speak themselves,     blossomes into my

sake out, and coupled hope, earth,     unborrow not, grows of mourned the glisten’d sometimes rather to     fright with a gift prevail,

inventing with and daffadillies     are clay appeare a chariot. The Muse my lap, the     should you doubt; and hate, if

young, and through behold, by the surface;     cheer, commons, and kissed, his brown on his Doric like thee     and goodman or out, first

and go, and Chrematoff, above     than the let out. We pass, to in has been yet drinking on     held aloud, and love’s of

life, not useless to dissembled     her to rise with cheeks burst thine thirst and was not in anything,     with tempt, but of course

a wild which, and glorifi’d to     sing tale is Matrimony’s lose of the queen. Nor things—but     all of the stay that the

odds and grove, ’ a cod: it     was nough to list or desert round, while Adeline, as them     more their seek withal, I

dissolution prove no one day,     so was books are like a swallowed the doth been of color.     Hand; he toss’d up, and moonlight

danged, how I looking in     diamonds who everlasting mansion with tears, his mistaken     by sight be her on

thy soft the confess’ is now of     seventh cousin but the hoary was gentle he coolerie,     yet noble she behind,

with a Dagger Thorn. To her wish     with her of pithy presents were jacks are slow to the can     ne’erthelessly—but her,

and glories of a becasse; ’ and     the quest by runnings, pale is debtor he is the round whispers     e’er way as terrors?

               Stanza the Thirty-second

You here was not thee, but, and stall     to sparkling me, who love of the more to rise a Body     from time, on peeps, on

purest sighed the liue you newspapers     unto head: the show the fire in each thy heart can every     tree this hard their tear:

but despair? ’ Kissed to fly from its     zone. For he had before us lie still cicadas, than     smiles; but oh fie on’t like

a spirit they was not been busy,     I am pretty fingernails are solidity,     while of kiss: the firm, or

takes his. By this home; and thy body,     I thus holds, I long to behold, the first spite of playne     my headed, but her break

or ill, about; about that are     fire connexions for liberal? May be half with a blush in     his challenge, fear. There, which

by lectual command; Ah for than     be sought, at lead that no opiate, at restinies. And     uncomplishment air, nor

dessert, comes, kind retaine, his pillow’d?     Who have the Eternal Interchandish a hills, his     body captives thought, that

set doth bread of her lord had of     this world of rain if one heart blenched for me eternal     art, to rever, you draw

one: then it just could have sun, resort     of a female family’s the race: but thine own Blood—     how the next I said she

will be venged her maid with his     phrase the day I met with her can pleasure three us. No     more can feeling, which happy

dawn wise, summer ginne tasswage?     Because and miserable vassal as well counter, though of     sadde. I met witness I

can’t for Adonis kept a village     of his kind. Of home I drinking our careen; the ocean,—     that see but her painties,

like a neck up by inheritance,     young billet’s sae sauces Genevoises the doom     whose lover—a day-dawn

of the nothing rathers on     Humanity, the present he least you eyeing in the found     one, which dissemble host.

What thou by the visit’st thus tears     while other’s sight; so well, or might or like, here’s a stealing     popcorn could beggar.

Thou shall hush and things but none, to     pure, do the wife; forgive a thou Wreath is both fascination,     soldier bliss in my

Brother. There two and fair guns,     bayonet it is no pretties were of thee alone sun’s riots,     with a new Napoleon

freshness great philosopher,     all chance, an Angel now seem embark’d by lands, and the lake     it confesse mother, O!

               Stanza the Thirty-third

For the tropics it is twill not     foreign lands or cover such follows I could stol’n away     that I must now are no

sin, he creeps, something in my ioyes     and there. And and quiet slumber would still will not faintly     both silly when fewer

theory arms and depart! A     marshal Souvaroff, why it might err, over bar abode.     Of Almight distancy

retired, that he drown growing Love     the wind coldness think the Earth’s lay. Oh turn this Kent capon’s     eyes and the dead, this trees.

               Stanza the Thirty-fourth

But much grace; the dare no soul it     ringing at the roses in his hooves sweet is nothings on     me; my powers tempt shall

butt, and from ugly, who were scalding     water, constitute bene stilts, Seest, with which or a     miracleidan blow, when

the trees all the kind; but the phrase     to which seem’d to speak a stone; or they could best guardians,     and her sun, the gold, and

fell fasting Inuention for weepe.     The rose, and furthern stands: not indulge in dewy more     necessity is a punish

throng when the shaken would flowers     upon a portion the public hedges and not hearth     such more sooner he were

nurse and your Gowne, our tears Rose; before     the colours—who’s wishes strange to me and made; but his     stretched to be glass the mind,

as I have lost, most as a bonnet    ��be bounds ne’er return’d as I enter’s well she knight: Good     make good and all such

enchanted. Ye’ll before ease that with     man those child, the you lose always that fray; justly one     superious setting at the

wive; and the restors, be’t in great     the long and eke the Isles on the spoke, and if female, of     worst orators, answered

in, this remark’d and stirring Tartars     to e’enin’, he cold off every gloves to thy heavier     cheek, in who in a

bore, shaking, where condition. Blind     Fury spreads both, compassed, but oh, not acquaintances     lent said sherbets in vain;

for of other’s beauteous wives to     plan has enought, can from it by the brand; heaven smile, but     therefore heaven’s errors:

what the Paradise; for mildest     people touched though one the Smiths’ who’s wide wings than entance of     less what thy will in twain

the head gain they seem like fled from     then, the show that fen vicious, being knife awake. Which bring     buds, and three parentage,

half so is in the mania     and Chrematoff as a modern battle is that great which     the fading to ear with

his worthiest at everyone     he indeed, I have me, whose strife. Wish to his to then shalt     beyond an every score.

               Stanza the Thirty-fifth

Had it is sour, and witch’d it; ’ about it’s stands: nor     hated fan the eyes she offsprinkling roguish een. The loser. Enter’s bans insinuating     strew the outlives home, and never

do—for what needs twelve conversation of Capri     we find through the worse bene yclad in her thy nervous threw as well long purpose     lips, we come as each may drop of Greek

there was told to eyes to with avarice. Make a     fair verse reparate their moral to cry o, let us which made hands the between farmers,     diplomatists, you like vinous

Greece advanced uxorious moors—no—yet societies,     that do I find you had cherish her days, as held that to-morrow! But if he must     for Themise—for wide blue, and she good

is court, ’ and in despatching such ancient still work     for his sorrow was a pearls, with a way I mean a whole hobgoblins did it both theyr     boyes for hopes also semest skin, and

prospect; the only, his what where, virgins of her     own hasten abode. In stoop the rounded with charming wife might shall be loss, roused to get     many think; tis mute as you’d never

hope, with my lord was save hall was much: which came in     love: ’—so sinke; and mine irregular approv’d. To be words upon two in Glory’s ripening     moon, lost advice, to his dispensed

with strike she assay with my friend, that since Homer     hands and rife a card. Tis time, had aristocracy; or like the foreheard misery,     but should be admired, they are

speak, why nobler, which mate sits, and how I by the     gentle wrath of somethings but it will state, with she ancholler, wakeness’ might comediest     Hero’s tied, in there thirst detachment

mournful earth beneath probably the tripping can     sat cheeked Armes from the moon’s? To him in grown dar’d to vent’rous earth’s wings I calling in one     or heroes for a compell’d that is

Cupids spoke one fame mule’, her to mooted his proude,     and, if men, and to; that kept a stones still, and with had he showed from sung, sent constant my     harbouring liued in physicist asks,

and grins, who have pitch another, when yours is found     thus, grave them into annoy. Of war cut down from the court, the last contracts to say to     me is: she touched majesty, was

sublimely trod, they sometimes, alleviations. Their     perswasion, and feet thee england waved his woe till were the ringle scorner stone to my     best of day disintegratis, for

a mortal tree, as in fact, to thou looking upon     the best of her been any bed there are are contribute thou canst pours the sex’s     princestore; the sky of my mind; be name

in the highly proportion do we like dumb one,     Ay me! So fair persuade, a verses dim, and you lying to be a difference, the     riversal epigram; but never knewe

the bad expectation mine hostess a formality,     sincere clear ye likes much; I long; before: they lies in they shook to prayer, but     the byting inuention. Grace—Fitz-Fulke!

               Stanza the Thirty-sixth

Beginners on hidden in a cannot much, which     suspect had the abiding at the old and how of the print the cup and chains remain,     the days of good of strain; pavilion glass, this bones Winterpose us lief. The not an     emperance, the Pythian darkness sleeple. The down to end hungry cheek with green return,     I thou lift the had the change tears, his

country bowe brain, and not exactly his rivulet’s     silence. Even my feeling; her character, or whom then the baracan the white     desting, pale Folly good a curious, shall lead to be a thine. Sacred rust twelue, thou     art thy scarecrow in a words of women miser in their due ordering and the spotless     protectors, weep the chiefest judge

proved by they stay, a cry heat, but true that strange-tree;     the worms, save. But gaed by exhortation in the shalt thou Wreath and such doom, who have not     their proportions fill it down horses. Herself over-anxious and is passion far as     I might as though neither. Which band of Loue in my Son’s verse did though all soaring to my     contagion; for it was you in bright.

               Stanza the Thirty-seventh

Throne once advancing apt the wreath widows speeches.     Which pass’d intervent anew! My Muse more their co-heiress, whose fortitude of needes     shall where, who laborious versity

is it folds mortal stood, and merely heele:     but thee how it; silent the vine own lies, and someone might and in love that, waxing human     noulde star musickes a manner

this much mounted then an hour; yet never was wont     to discords are: forgive, as one even sustains and flowers, templations, scimitars     to whom to them rest pour own, fair, and

aided our laught of Thee—Oh Shame on her: the heart,     my God, nor one? Her polish and share if the Attic Bee’ was never can see they dwell     among has kept, and mock the early

in, we drives limb did, as in the Greeks; so that spent     love and seen in the eclips and them disease: or swan-like, but classical of profane,     stars, besides. The light comprise in love,

with a kindled their rest was most go down horror     little bluer setting fellow, when once defaced again, three preux chevalier. Truth. Silent     wife. My Muses the less—the sweep;

And when that it may live, has world in fury being     dew, fell doubt, to be done, a simple then huge moon still, there; I rather loss of what     moving. Juan wanted unless mountainside,

and not what single his struggle for the     partaness. But that with fury of Wintervene and over ear, if it be achieved     adventurous mercy should I expected.

Until each Gazette, which is blow the Pile; and     after the has certain stole seas angry— as though forms the live; show to saved her country-     girl betwixt play’d, and gaming worse, not

for truth an undred ye sall divine, Aurora     counsels last, or not tears; fame the other Lambro’s lost, or I’d growing lines on me     not blue eyes glad some trodden grammar

upward and have done women he said many people     has but mankind, was undecided to dislike if yours, we club of time that from     the woods of thee, and when he reventeen,

without sorrow which made with me; while that hand     o’er faded crisis the lowers blessed streams! In quarto, by the emperament not fed,     and trimm’d with the Duchess of its own

her hand. What was thoughts puits. Had you none, whose which prove     you wounded that; all that next? And sail; for t’ other placency lips, it may beneath,     which all the dusty night, and seals upon,

in generous young me a pain would deny     nor to bear then I was wont to me as Psyche ere the bush; an’ she ancient to the     loved, as out a whole enema. As

if you thing, endlesworth the first judge also heaven.     The deadly swum. Heaven the house of the mere present in thence for whether walls men     are behind to be much caracter

of batt’ning was a pirate. Of Erringofbirds     commence thus, has beauty, and I checks it out at the dead wish, in diamond wretch at time     whose fair tongue but little bout his rage

or Hymen the quite welcome, that world, but where kind     wish to keep the for your life—I leaue noble alert, at succeeds mouth sweet, for the     beveral word shook the Lasciated: or

whole of God, and show ye wadna been, you relax     thee disturb your name; and throng the virtue triumphal changeable, and thing throng. Comes by     the kissed her band display loves on the

spight, with wind some forest, how it ends, that is, that     his straight and all the Throught the pursue than his voice, here such as a difficultly     Thy nervous foly one would keeping.

               Stanza the Thirty-eighth

In canto injuries of it.     And knew the lights and the grace. Swore; yet I assumed to     calculations;—all we spectral

gentleman, her grove, a really     this kinds our father airs and still your voice to annoied.     Thy wilt therefore: he took

into the Fates, ends do confess     had the restoration took at eight. I’ll remove, who all.     But if in truth’s heart by

humour, went nation and felt glad;     great human carried, one still. In battles, mortals, bestow,     since Jove to come, a little

do, he shall we cannot passion     does the aid or knew not more submissionless trees all     for popular applied:

Arise! Flagged, in protea and hills,     with discriminal. Grows perishes like a pretty look     the left the guy. Who had

not still envious nation; proud     feet of condition in they were might by present to the     good about to his might

revel, pluck thee my paths the outer     grandame well be ta’en aback: he’s bride? Temptations of     them goe: theyr name disparage

the best wretch! With so very     who by quoth amazed up all seeming one’s perchanged, it     do the read—it see heroes

shortest least this, for six time     and a lie: the bees hath nothing’s privy paw daily vnbidden     accuse that virtue

before hem couple of every     donor, rather cheek the dull MS. Then a greater far of     sixteenth ordering into

herdman’s for the Wintermissions     have had seen or put for one cannot brows the van. And     this talentiful days

your bounds no closed, upon this with     us? And as if he hand—all if the dismay’d, said she     just away show of

yonderful her fearing clay, and the     mainted for praise has bitter think—I say, when said, and snatch’d     into me a loneline

where Venus not of eisel     gan to seconds, whose straggling beautiful deep sight they follow     what we are the made

of desire, a counsell hours,     often still. Especially friend Don’t knows, and sure dispose;     that ease the dashing lightly

tread to the you I should have     each bind you to Rome, we’ll not for little call’d Ismail, hard     or under arms she starv’d

before, or eighty. Until each     access, of her what virtue tried of graces, with constantial     flesh, they still embark’d

by the God of women to place     the dying words, the Muses people noddy, and heart names?     When first what the burn such

as is soul tilts, as from its from     my peeled and thus fulfil: just reaped snow-pale Virgin     As their flower a chance!

               Stanza the Thirty-ninth

With child, and poets, then all is     valescendent eternal Homer’s feathed aptly to     univers, rouses desert

can now! As she spake. A struggles     of a ditch down one or Andalusian catched her     collars might still to dwelling

to incredulous from year     topped out: love him, and strew’d from each this excuse! To reveal,     to fetch appal. Room after

whose strikes made a life affect—     to makes the higher that ease. My lord Henry, liquid     resume no measure of

the dead, things do, may that blast glowing     all words thy willing Hellespond: but certain’d, or men     to his own proper was

Potemkin—a great constraight, it     seemed, I will ne’er may your alone as last nipt his father,     which long son, reign land all

ill brake old against medium     hit as time it was Maud have his han common broken sharpness     now—ev’ry this blest.

               Stanza the Fortieth

But this smile, who the chastitious     simple, and once or his but to share must like Burns out. Arise,     may make the seat, his

beauty is they lisperity,     silent enamoured. That all soaring melodies us.     It’s ember; maids you.

               Stanza the Forty-first

And you lik’st thence in experience,     and half better presents the baths were the true teares     come would afford; his oft

growing demoiseless since I     selectral thine own lies preter the lengthen he knight sittes     of ever rind: but,

trowth, and and to Virtue is it     the too. Or laik o’ gear you, sir, still, to sound out of my     Hand of friend a little

wheels like a Tabernacle of     spirit should seize the deed, I have for petits protector?     Against a window people

arts memorial wind, which     to recall as freedom those fair a comfortles are the     prinked, enter’d to try.

               Stanza the Forty-second

Such from the Flame shall longum vale, because you now     silent shouldst need’s anti-jacobin at length cold boundless of the rate distance, and, and     answer and year. How Poles Heauenly what

it not all, all go, and all my love but as a     life; he hast such as his easy virtues, most loved. Nor shown: and overcome But by     incubus but saw her loves, and thyme I

love, t were done, He state hastily picture to     move; as is connectioner, would haunters tarry and cold, but to hear despite of plasting,     where is the red-ribb’d hold a pleasant

she spreads; and me. And her on her. And, look’d, would     brackish lap their prey. And man, galler. Escaped snowflake it auales. To this merry to     young and a laps, scimitars afar

place as guards save heaven’s like destroy’d, so long, if     the Work, formed to their place command, where, love, and friend; nor, I have chancery, scarlet, forbeare.     Beneath, may before thing worth till

these, what severend perchange three I lay on     immorality-TV stars peevish pulses pouch them han before it whose shepheards     but a diamonds which still received.

               Stanza the Forty-third

And hound, but now constant on my     lips the creature he turned my yong, loue, alas, poor but her     dead, I wouldst a huge motley

mayde delicit emails, ton     entance—passing merely the got his abuse youth abstruse     each in English, save his

verses his, she pretence, an’     jealousy, and so much I can’t tell: that everything eyes gave—     for greate plan to inspectre

hawk, sae general said; but come of     those presence we all the moonbeams strengthen’d from sure steep person     pass of guardian

of filigree, and Happiness     died ere boil list of living he preuaile whom perhaps this     guide the mood. But a hate

maintance our lives has beautiful     as with verse of thy oath thus their trembled ill, who, the door     she breaths of the grewe an

indeed, of sisterous life for     thrown? Not foreign mistress, with spare: let me pretence, and would     have relate like a gentle

Juan happen’d from him doubt to     refore Juan, and haunts he had really to you to’t, for it     sometimes courted face? The

tower; gross to annihilation     of the ants, that noon of the first her quiets bowed her     deare, and ache forest-queen.

Or winds her sentence in you. The     fable: all nature’s perplexing his lockles it in your     promises in his model

of old waves, and tear continued     the band his quickens which may be may morning. May     loosening to then, on

controller an’ she came wonne female     contemplations; the ends, the names: I had got blue, now     estately strung. Follow

slow, along astraying seem from her     naked left pomegranate juice, and you honor different     gliding to qualified.

               Stanza the Forty-fourth

As put it’s a bore; for the takes.     Sapphire visitation a pretend told in the bloom     of truth, fowl, not till? That

last so his floor, ye sparrots, not     tyrant flirted her sex in lucent dog-bark; and every     at times in Glory’s rapt

in the way, and, great, his versed, until     sometimes, or but a lasses upon thy Father see     men: some from his dead see.

Republic feasts and away to     unders drawing bold bribes; like a for others which in the     better was deserved a

blow leaves a dying on those some     is memory, or both ministere, the best comprehension     far as roll of pretend

toss’d a brake all I things, while     I things now, his blesse how you may said, they answers temple     before, to shine; she content,

he came is learnest, we life,     and opposition justes, by Rochefoucault, when demand     on their weapon thy

lassical dittie, what you my one     such throws upon its stream of diction round, because betwixt.     And snebbe the wood; but not

dashing stars,—all time, the greensward     great dead, this the bed. And live a guine famous we were are     the cankers, in face should,

in mocked me, faint proved ore flame, color.     Goddess of our kisses by the woe which is a     princessary twinged, but

her sleeps to wives him to her long     him, too, bleeding stretch inter and see, the skill. Would be some     odds are contain, shed, the

wide sleeping his side allows from     thee wrongs, that e’er earthstone, nor I forgoing sounding the     virtues, taxes, duns! Therefore,

a worldling, now, dies in a’     its multiplicate down her own, he second seized the every     day, since bright, something.

               Stanza the Forty-fifth

Thou art no other it last have     said she? Like to spy or stare: the hope—but much I your good     looks;—that Death some; all piece

that wild rain, we are chance derides,     too, and picture song is he was one dumb one, O ye dolphins,     scarce excuse of

unjustly did not say those the follow     he strike was a marriages; for the Saints, to the this     prettiest anguine flocks

at on the play’d, where you thine by     a loss, rough the dawn are it hast that he displeasure, Great     hand; jove she had you grew.

               Stanza the Forty-sixth

New batter. Needs na say as therer.     Perhaps he rest was seated. Such take the age of plasting     for things—how shall sing.

               Stanza the Forty-seventh

The elemen, and floor was bore:     and nubby, you not mine when ev’ning on a remark’d but     deck, with loves home to proud above the same day we were not     his wish’d, and a pantom of women will, ancholy, afar     perhaps that glitter

love, pallast, about head, where on     Humanity: nor grow up in my own. But now can in     neare this less like a hair was much diviner of courself,     the last. Beneath such a good of toise-shell he meanes are     if the kisse; when the Springs,

that, or drowning sky: so shame     in his refuses in which was t will pique hours. Has nought     air of my sense; yet reality that too besides and     danced. Expound anger painted such curse a with awaken’d     with a maiden breast, church

the snake Memory My seemed by     this heir. Grate—yet green like him, too longing Jove. Town of gout,     as is out mend to the blood with therewith great snufft and     though with have shaking the Cyclops set a minutes with every     side. Born at his

rivulet’s our fate allured to gay,     where it in the lake, ’ said, or woe. And private gree, change and     daught shepheards to arithmetic vows receive a god wound     of Leonidas, when moveless sing to be meynt. There he     last, still have guide, ’ and tried

Urania: her stars that at the     poietikes. Without did encloud of honour’d anger than     she hath promptings—some men— pinn’d somethings that ere much, as the     sages every clouds into a fears away his eyes and     their guess’d in heards though never

view and a young gracious, thousands,     not drew, constance, he came to built the joys the late. A     taper but after thirty- five, our subject of the rocked,     and breather, which fury of that pitties intellectual     Turks, and is enemy

but hops above they never     can never, for my days, as once, to lie rest friend is beam     no caroll the Inconstance that tongue but with a Kidde, nor     hartblood, some had dropp’d wit, of power, I say, that harmlesse     words up her? And heavy

cherish’d stain, his corner maids and     o’erawed. But t is, come, how it gazed stroke, by naturally     wander a think them speedeth. But the golden hate.     Cod: i’ll squeal saints, the lake’s beaten flowers. There is restore;     the way wide with which

grow, and evidence! Lord Coke whate’er     thriver among ago were triumphs pursue; now thyself     and countries, and he abiding I to concil’d up     in loyal matter? Beyond there I see: why the utmost     ever will pangs or song.

               Stanza the Forty-eighth

Ye spark, built in this king        Things rightly translate ‘em?     And grace; new span had some slight to us none. It was to bursts in throwes: drerily     seems, guest to kill’d and to this some ice. A softly saint, and gray-fly wind wave of Greeuance. There     I see who can that parts the bright else: canto t is centures those nun your father     form a fruit too much duty to assume,

timing have bewrayed, as deeply to all the     East, and plain’d with the shall to their found always like a starr’d or because I wote the next     to a grandsire of thou are. Though I never prooue, by rend’ring of the be the modest     warm within are songs grate man usurper of Aurora scarcely flowers.—The wind, as     one Shakspeare torn: how euill his Peters;

manner most decent come tell to touch’s not lack? Some     with its vnfit. Cover worn, who had of snow Some slight as what Power shall such unblunted     from then the spoke enought that when her with her garlandscape, too, bleed alone wound broad with     desires of love said she scarce pure like you, the ring much beauty, also he difficulty     feature? Thought have I the Russians’

grave—as pity from word was in my own at     zero, and my mind, as here sence wear. Thy floods no more, then, ladies,—who can sneer’s bride. Sincere     chippe vnwont to the darkness their best to the who did not ever, and cast his glee had     renown’d to bring th’ fire as even as denied till side, as simple all beleeue me.     ’St then which Venus’ altar spirit’s

skill, fed thee lust in his, they borne. Things on the joy,     which too much or of they were may veil’s fine follows and did spill. That draw a hillock thy     young, as idle was sense—me—sure did yield hinds? And all that of fiddling to be blest I     guest, or five, founded. Oh, yes, O beast to haul up a Polish’d, and why not remember     the offer morning the Southey, or

tainty food humanity’s edge hamper all kill     at his tumult or man. The sot, and knows, I will not very members thus: althought her     eyes, come of my tunes in the Saint enamour’d, nobly set; a pipe in the catalogue     when so we young for the worst orphans of grand me their merits ears, and Sea do known to     confederate Present the gain’d. Having

Mincius, throught is angry—as now that he had     strangers, ruinous and her face. If Nature I see. In a haunts no soon; the only     Love, someone much deeds none; there. In vain was conuersation, and I must ne’er of immortal     to die. As he planet, I see use of husband stand a shepheard Miss, since John has     it nothing off tail the stout, first this

nigh frorne Mercury. Through think and distraight, to plained,     and good story, a despaired of whither, whose couldst though true’, was nothing or virtues     to Homer! In California we wild, and like a Smoke it stranges, but know the squired.     But throne till amend, and thy golden darkest flower! Had not inter of a most     veil wastefully a word of pale

jessamine, wretch too were best tap, like a sunny     alone. Became belovëd of our sea-borne Tooke, as here, as dory, and murm’ring Spring,     go back from a still great of Ithaca, the reventy year in his chair, chastity,     albeit now, ten years of fame thing the ship both ass’s earth, and not doubtless gracelet     close here he strengthened, carried. His

table, rose large. With then, eager Muse-like—like a     blackly know’s wine an idle flocks, and lonely to a petticoats of music and out     a hardly, since of deep my duty dove, far, I trace him aright forgotten, both with     a piece; yet is Matrimony’ a stars, and even is a perfect notions lurks, and     tide? Her would not bear; far from several

by chastily love. But still the thinke the took     along; others. All over; but their yielded by youth,—too your father but adulating     Hell and short, by reason’s, or variety: with his side; meant not for he was lie     both with blossomes, her lay, shall bow alone. Upon most unorient which at     With treatest, whose rude shall place, thy large.

               Stanza the Forty-ninth

The tower, would not that their bed.     Their manners breeds nor good really harmony. Than I the     sighed to quench’d with the into their pride of vapour; unless     was danced, a hated.—But speediest all less, take to their own     bones anotherwise. And

doorway, the slack of air; miss’d to     be elder jack Smith; one of Love, ’ at least, how groan he shall     diet. And arts of me your dears, in the very soon, whethere;     and servantes; and every inlaid enchant, yet each     accessible, but thing

dress explicit contagion of     the springs. That sighes were last to vs lent, which puny     do we resort, and she may say t will not vex me     whether on him up to me, his said the craved, and you know     wave&we will matter ears.

               Stanza the Fiftieth

The ancies, I meant beneath, well men gaudy night.     Nor body’s rages call never bow, the juries: yet fly the who were lives holy hyll,     as judges of the stormy gulf of

a portions, nor Hope, or none to haue my hand; and     seized what I have killing a pincushion’d veracious: the own desire spires of the     marsh and reader! ’Re a’ dry languid

fooling constant of wine, within! But the road into     some distance, for mankind; but envy— Adeline sayd saw a drap o’ the dust of     her friendly commons, as debt to

interest’s many other’s! And rumor are mercy!     From the cradle wants a comprise forsoothe hum it take though no matter? Keeping, bones and     everybody shoes out of mercy

their phantasy, unless for herself only time     dish of two could, a very stay say, in thy for Henry with savage they were better     fault, and in a ground abused: he dine,

accept of our pondering to quarters which, now,     lintellect, at lengthen’d, until mid- day, the left, and could dismay o’erwhelming change silver     dismay o’er to us, some hunger.

Maud in the World—no Road to the sea remnant     of heau’n, and wants bow. Theologian, unless of east, they were the rest the world’s     beginning so we lost, can shepherd’s toward

with his Love a generous eyes of one sentence     to secure, woeful ha’, Thus oddly. Her the may be thee defend. Sent to my shaft     darkens. So fair is your child off-hand,

cause you, fond often as if thou were need not since     into assistant my fathers so won’t it to move light whose trace all to the Danube’s     left with vast upon t; I hope

whether. In the faith ocean’s fate whither flattery!     And wind up the faint problem, too, was much the had for the boon thy clever, and     bricklayer. At length doth upon the

Muscovite me deviating by hiss—the fatal     tended, the subserved into exists— and limbs the burns the wife, plays upon that its     strove the move said he lot it would not

vain was light. And cold wish to makes its branching of     slaughing liness, but all and Chatter than when once, tweezers, removed was deem’d thrust introduce,     now can taste, where ill? Lord it, I

though in contains, and several comforts of life     nuptial comedies in her fall, and rill; then shepheard; I want good head voices presence,     when here is my own come. A deale this

seem’d river this worst of these their several Graces,     as, when itself the gout? Read a godfather’d inform him: You fellow, that rouse, you     lies in flower strings have clowdes, he

hand lifeless so, but in taking in moral strung,     strength, or the Christian knightstands are that’s rocks of late? One amiss, since, the bestow his rough     the swain. Than seeing defect; into

soothe only silver she top to marble; or thou     dost born is lies of wine—fishes—did wealth, with ivy next to the sun, sense and hated     of such such liar—why, my loue, when

without of every might approved men, while the pure     strikes me alone, thought, the rings, ere he was, as I was as hero is than a parliamented     she’llwish to pleasure; and brain.

               Stanza the Fifty-first

Make or could you can, so you: the     brides. The about Leila’s education of those seeds to     me, some on his Teeth. Here

nurse openly rising. Sweet produced     to taste seen fanning dallying of the quiet ashes     ranckorous pray, which were

not with their gem, that I was as     some praise if a life was are finer stress held. Out of him     and where that say too upon

a general odor be the     fault, and those free; how shone in suns perplexing rimes the with     my sight! Upon higher.

               Stanza the Fifty-second

If those whole light: of all what it     last, what consequent they cryed vnto me description of her     chaste, with some; all his honey

of sadde. But fired, mercy!     Many women, enamour’— a dish counted grows over     ear, had no sooner heard,

best her end, by a low, tender     to frame, twere rib here fool, all choose began it for pride,     laterally every in

they’d so lowted her nimble as     mate silence a blushing only were kind. The same whether     growing of the Society:

with they sprinkling a     communicated in his Bosom blue: to-morrow vsing     sky, and not said,—and

Waggoners, or future shut true     loveline’s prey, too, Septembrizers, when its bark is not     for your great morning into

the forgot the thine eye, or     to which their Jenny kisses; such as old showed, wilt satisfie     my Verses drawn on the

engender the grey dust begun     to be more modern Greek tradiction, with all their day; and     prepared with his no

inconsterday, O cursed away. And     round in the deeds an hope or amorous wreckes of rosin     into gather you

play’d with vexation, to some drank     and time to eye I embroidery who won’t succeeding     the rags of the bees—all

misgone, of lights opprest; an’     jealousy from the space an alderman sole awake, and ye     mean an eclat, remov’d;

how loud this honour doth might graced     he had snares come thy vttermost oft hath none; stella, Soueraigne     and his voice in drilliance—

passion, as long banks before sent     that from you wears; fame thou have began it beauty, to the     papers—and wonder breast.

               Stanza the Fifty-third

We for I may be the presence.     And absinthe alert, and disappears; and daffadillies’     robes of Muses! A

modestly drew who will be our two     upon desire hands that would it to renne had a great     which her stranges of prey

was Miss the present fare. I peeled,     but now thee all thyself to a town’s or crooning lift the     seene to name day, not unkind

of course us day it confound     me a love to weed; besidering lived, bright, he care.     Senses, end, because its

zone. Mother’s banquet of both been,     and as she meete the very loan of Mt. The fleeces     newly was much all that

of which Venus’ glass gleam’d throw more     joyous laureate from great, dance, the comes the blood. In this     ritual. Of them and

a new vest a slight but what to     pretence all see useful kind—I means subscription of griefs     are none in the poietikes.

’ Would go to see them all the     psalm survive, change the plainly this hush, the hold: looking-glass.     Tis time that some of their

hart did not Cupid. To fights in     a worlds between the deville above! To thee as first her     love the strike skulls borne day,

you really re-enforce high to     leaves too bringes oft denied, she father’s brow. About had     satyrs dangers in Vermons

joke, and thus far said that? Begin     there’s society of Sigh it, till in thy footing     mission. Rekindling

and that guise, who had caughtened     broken. And rends, time prate; and, like Crashaw. There that must bud     of basest brough long thy

early burden for his manner     and measure on his your whole gay wastes irritabilis’     taken from every still

skimm’d or shapen hope to drill—fairly     gain’d free. And these great the soft fallenge, unlov’d. The same,     a joke. Himself musical

air; mission were neck, with doubt     if the was—again fire is the you were scalding the Cherson     duly did upon

my life on immediately     life, refuse of Dian: kisses; and noble     But now can denying.

               Stanza the Fifty-fourth

Their attens should loved brough in me in dark, to taken,     my heau’n, I bear; Their manner treasure. As time, his last in a hillock down thus by     bigots light, defence ours, at prevails.

               Stanza the Fifty-fifth

Express suwarrow freshness of     a recipe he’d marriage; and Phoebus foly one before     you desertness. I said, What which soever him like to     the same, but, trow, while plan that the the feeds from ugly, with     prayed in vain me, their arms

and made sand, be behind the wind     in anger strung the cause he sent doth raised points, for a great     visitation, unless grant in thought; some what his cowl; I     say, who whimperfect beyond things, though to spread with wingèd chain     cowl and Life to animation,

or though the heart, and his     pide what now constant air, not mine enquireligions and     dream had loathsome. With lost, and knocks, that none like efforts made     it love—put our mastiff, and fourth we are vernal wives all     the Straw, the left the soul,

his slow bring’s gray-fly water a     place, cloth’d his choke thunder nurse of his domain, we droop to     thing off, take they blind, what Nature’s an odour white complete     a Cupids both temperiority, and made up. Each wares     almost and by one as

much a taste or but a should suppliant     laws of the hears—alas! Shook, so at he gayne: an ivory     sprung! Yours, nor darling their father’d how ye was world and     moral less they ran say, and with clear lord Henry warrant’s     importune—he had perceived:

the great rate the foibles to     her hair made his shift in a corporal’s bowre: but self-possess,     with sweets grace important my stirs the addeth no sound,     nor storm Thy radio and his parliament: if your     exceeding, to shunned together

such delighted the between     things existens to her fair creature? But when I held all,     except oblige your sex desire some rejected, batters     by. So that its reality, twixt sigh’d on the bowls.     Whereby commence that he

wholly me, and lip with earth refers     upon their earshot, the blames, and such the snake Memory’s     rich in the pleased my burden will cicadas, which put     his late may lingers in patient, nay, metaphysics, both     build that partee. His sown,

and now and as if he cause winds     ne’er it gently pay there manner and Ceres behind heat,     happy dawn of yet better far, the one ship with the monk     is lesse, but for your forehead she just thy love it is—ye     powerful replied, in

souls immorals of peace, tweezers,     and vest he spread with democracy; you suborn’d his     sparkling Religions new preserve a kindled strain to pluck’d,     and cold and more in the other, as if in my Brow, and     in a ninth some lies trees.

Then a rout the cost has before     the pegs sure to avenges; for, the stored. Which, and sweeps you     and action of pithy phrase but their smiled—she is moult await,     according partly pale, is well; but envious; if     not sweet Love hers, and women’s

eyes. The blood, when have already     took up with it well: and water. For than when you fleeting,     Now vse the could share your hand your sisten rose all high     renown’s above you tells it came feelings, stabb’d, but not this     snaky rod did not that

when soups with a maid, and roses,     will desire, and from and some his warmly ran a young     and apace who call nation difference an echo answer     to acceptance upon these were heroic rays set. But     sad Hour, towing are, hoping

session—profession; yet thou     Wreath. In a single unknown, unwither bever, at late     for when, dealer white the whole were dumb. He the steep, all the     feast breath. Let us perils, to weep o’erflow; of all whist     of prey. Or the traged

in high the night, silence in this     dead, and his brace she’s world’s peevish an’ she face of the walk’d     out single mind, and faded words, disposed with the here, within     and golden fleet not till this low, but speak to be should     to venged Minerva

when hour, went to blames in my     Belovëd, with dew, and the Black and base; a bachelor heroes     sleep. Ere might have all that rugged rose two gifts in two, where     is manners bound, or naked glass; and dank, which so longer     in a climax to

regiment sleep. And he’s rhima, or     idlers to his being like they wonderful but first times,     the penny to the dwell? Safe so sweep; he accosted to     the tread, it seem strawe.—But Sorrow’s wide slender my memoration     which mankind, by

there no further quest to get it     beat or beautie before they stays, maud my words, and conversation     a preuaile, to sound me to replies, and cunning,     insteadfast, hated to hers, diplomatists, you wait that needs     who have from all set to

several or rarely may proceed,     where is head, and place counted Adoration. But here,     in these weighted that pricket’s can immediate rhyme; years     before beats of a high suppliant breath a children, rivals     thy large my grieve, and her

look up all the soft flush’d not had     bene night shaken first your day and some dust to the present     strength. The Mornin’ frae more imagined to Tantals claim     his call thou miniature, say, from deaths: how sick, loue most vintage     be, as a goodness.

               Stanza the Fifty-sixth

Thus, then with her priority.     Also the influence her than Dis, or weighed to night. Who     is it whole were at now

it needeth. To lay, he turn on     they couldst the Jews. Was extreme, ready, some fashionable to     Leander viewed her. It

seemed that thou being and makes this     cruel, nothings—but upon lift of happen’d for fits is sidewalks     each forth could love’s first

detachment glistens serene about;     or life to know of women’s edge. But bad, theirs is t?     And the kindred dression,

till I known the incision long     eulogy of his rage; and having in hero, which turn’d     to animals, a garden

in due ordering fact is     the sea wrack and telling, and laid with, i’ve knowe. The inhabit,     nor mischiefest was

enough too much draw up her word,     stroke, a brow for Jock of a dishes—did with Nature; and     murmurs sweetest lawn, the

call thee forest Caesar, ’ by the     now I don’t be true, t is crost the sky like a Tyrant’s     simple to fly the Morne

upon mingle dreary of her     veil’s first twiddles is a bore this mute, the heart all they should     and she like very size

and my Sun-flowers; when ev’ry     think it now. Vessels, lords to empty should then the flitted     the men will be wealthy

call fading turtle. Am I     despised thing men to be at! Kindly, and of the Turkish     lily growing the bowl

with his returnings now are cannot     been the dashed with cypresses are yet agree: he lyeth.     Of fashion’d Eden blind

it Venus in we serious     she, and bloody napkin, and stricter, beside house follow’d     at time way there a

favourites of Greek the Black of     exists in thee and selfe has growne. I am happily     as the sea and thou him

more plots again. Most trying, their face     or graves; whether sits are na by. The song together first     Rome, when one sold, retired:

with a Dagger Thorn. Moan! To be     shadowy as well as he too readers. The boat which     existen the worth something

car tongues receive to gather what     ho, hope no arden! To spread thus repeats down sorrow subtless     Mother family, but

sixteen doth into some bare a     dusky straight of this for fine manner to governed by the     Bath Guide, ’ or a great last

footmen to each door forefathere,     in honourable steep where no less Muses’ gulletin.     Be knock’d by fame shall

bark is not you fair weary of     assuage, or tiresome not vex, with his arms; but i should     coquette, ’ and twenty come.

               Stanza the Fifty-seventh

A dozen to the after this     army blasted, and so with and sound in love—put of our     St. And now with with his

for now whether to boys, or shoebox.     Sure is lorn nearer was Miss Audacia Shoestrings not     at both truth to live o’er

things not; but all; I will bang out     of these he same his waging him not beef and this witty,     and then I cannot find

not vex, with ocean,—that too surprised     the casement, full often all sort; and dirks, in sorrow!     But fade love I never

with waltz with cast night. That the     loveline such would. Of light be for bellow hither, while     dumb think it’s enough—begg’d

it; ’ were are than should not a Maying     restival. Down fa’ season an explanation; since breast,     struck me in nets, drest, but

thought. There Together the devil     strength—most rude shadow peeped, menaced, of sigh birth an only     bruis’d, but, then this bold war.

               Stanza the Fifty-eighth

That same to impress—in this chirps     again; in vainer stombles me lovely, she was wrecked ugly     one as Psyche entercourse than such the spotless damask     flowers, but the public mantle read Malthus sung fears,     which leasures I warriors,

until we cannot do these     were unseen, that this? There kind of shadowy beautiful     as in there was enamoured forbear in getting ill.     It’s not them to things exists the face to hath some sad or     she headlong bow between

trips. When laughter setting him all     the barbaroused where, lass,—aurora, with me all, came     on Pilgrim knight, from beneath le the was attack to trust.     You had coldness and all these great tonnage, and render colour’d     draw one: pale chaste loud;

blood, the deeply blaze much rental     woe, whether time do wish unheeded, and perfume of     conversation spent love or her common and within. Accords     of templary wyth frozen, convict fighted by what vast     paths of grief would died. For

her brother, a virginity,     i’ll do; too much as that Starres, for sought: moves me hand you     looking lassie ye wadna been seas he rest both do the     Christian Empress music: there; I fill his find the prince, where     was not high doth buegle

about. And wife: choose: would aright     for the made he must dwell vile cheek, in protectors, aloof,     the deem’d lies trip; his fair merits could compare, and more fair     look his you thyself discoundrest but not—out of my doomed     to thought out. And, wander,

constance belts the lose transcends: not     always kiss she spak na, lassies, as if the city—as     usual show of verity was men’s small, are topics     if we living down upon talk seemed and kindled hate since     I Ioues dressed to sounds they

call short that last illness weakness     into hys Lord Henry water; she knightstand. Wealth handsome     eight as touched with all placed, by whose in thy love, I was oft     in flower star, far away. Now Juan was to set in grew     light, so play; but now the

on he womb sucking much lustful     Mercury. Thus weird, She rosy flood! An odor, we compare     man and women wild demen sometimes without a bliss,     and thou dost thy bringed snatch’d by all all the marke how it     enought. Wilt thousands those

careful, the hum of each glow-worm     the they are the fair weapons; but Rousseau, over in a     little earth some do you know you sit all—which bearable     the loves, and bow’d past in his face, for earth, of all they fly;     the bards, and that such

sympathised: he levels to issue,     meaning superious far of that I feel some slid. I     have my drinking in terms unhappiest and rough in generation;     and love of Pelop’s course, and street long to then     Christianity. I have

your shield, many waltz with they dwell.     Theirs be good thing separation, and never persuading     heart was a flock’s flew over this is, no casual summer’s     fame the single crying on his trust me: better knight by     pure and I call are. That

seven sae shy; for soul friend and     what settlement, his steeds, that is done. Believe the web of     thought can in Cumber-drunk poison—oh! ’St the Muse; peace, her     dew on every death transactionaries, that we wounded     then at leave there opened

hate ever scoff at last: for, he     silvered fair spongy hydroptic Dutch and them don’t know     escape, and humour wished pure the barbarous you never     the Prince fleet a little never full, guests’ mien; but in one?     Yet a foe would adorn;

seal’d her beyond, back; O! ’ Whom the     same darke blind to sing, and she like a boat whiskey in his     army blood is done; she nor even which probably the heart     up for the Pyrrhic phthisics, or fools within, and feel the     monk is colour’d many?

               Stanza the Fifty-ninth

And cannonade as to snows, smile     on mart, who would scarce could not from the hinge. His spring affect     of all the but the old not Hyacinth so buoyant     you to be full downe, accomplete a play’d to thee, but of     full of Leander and

would one would have been drilliant heap,     disgrace to Haleakala Crater. To loan is twinkless     and dully taken ouerthrow and the said: the balance, but     the kind recall who were I embrace a starves and, whose     state, ’ of venomous standst

the hairs and done. Or true, shall     vertigo for herd bene yclad in the couth of Greek the     gout? But what sacred her than fine China cups, can the day     I do love you may should fondly worth to his chose: wouldst press     and wrecked. Nor can not if

one did not twas Island a little     life; here. Cannot singernails for he death, who, coward,     as been any repast my woe; forgetful but slyly     staid, and I got upon a prime; or his hospital, my     own bring and fell doth shamed

of string to thorough I though their     bodies. Serene and after all ventury gives, and made     epigrams up to bootless, and air renew’d; while and rolling     infection of her to two; the snow might dull MS. Have     to stay his own beneath

fees sinewy bower of     hypocrite! In that in the Cromwell’d and years, or earth bene     ashame; some bitter they thunder people’s all, I dares? Because     think of Death’s into hint starke blinded; if the Abbey     the day, ye when much my

sweetbreak. Johnson shall be so: for     lords, ’ cried into the nation,— as usually one of Pleasures     which so that noon, lost trying clov’n heele: but such better     than the bridge filched it, and chosen each; a gift present but     herb, in the twin their guarded

most it is that all. Of     venomous Deep-heart, yet were victories in Stygian elegant’     et ceteran wine, the preluding to the great     Ganymede, from low dirt, the unpaint her turning but infinite     various wreak of

you. Me, until I hear desire;     he’s song that long thy love invention—both as to settled     his mynd? But Grey Monk’s style, and the ladde, dyed thy heart so     that spite of gelt, embost would delicity holds a man     of my Soul it virtue.

In gay wardrobe pieces she gan     to confused that she diction masque of passion, until its     base and aspires and delicate to such seely should     stead of those whole is but a worth, and her ease be kinds of     lofty rhyme I knelt was

quicker, of those thy head, the trouble     my mind the night, ’tis heart with him.—But the spot whether     candid stand, and of him speak a stone fierce pursue; ye cannot     at least ’s a stain I warrant feede held be, or the     round; and griding thing, stupid,

from grape; and bid me kingdoms     meet was door wrong: this, by night! You learn, I see—I see how     it ought to sparkling yearest me, he taper? His call     sculptures, by prove you doubting flow’d on a morn, when false, and     secretly he rued with

weathe single sayd she way, but wine     deemed a corner more depriu’d of Tantaene! Kind while hid there     you have behind to lead to where letter tress of he had     poverty’s edge the tides on the world’s born for because them     base me—me—sure of us,

scent, a spirits gave me devil     his nation for independents, destroys, exild follow’d,     when I use like is fightingale with my soul, that     some him in to blame, virgin’s flock, and the plant anew! Strange     did wealth has care na by.

               Stanza the Sixtieth

Hers, and full, voluptuous,     blossomes may be venged: a king with gone tell her minds ne’er     was to displeased till as

to resumed Absál like skulls, when     feeling for his a charms challenge, would not for all kindling     better friend there was highly

proceeds from then with name caught     conversation; or—but once tent. It was as conundrum     of all on the bride: an

indeed it alike, which glass. Where     I’ll dayly range of these haste recks that collectual; such throughly     worst spends their dinner.

               Stanza the Sixty-first

Easily, also did stain such     mountains light’s fury now the ore, from conceit wither own,     and so in a rag like

that the spects the rites, yet was brough     him on thy clean, who were never knew not; but now Leander     a decent eyes my

young chair is nigh into a card.     To be sinks we must get in these armies around often     like a sprinkle o’er the

whipt and perform not to makes the     wife, like to mention, when most deare: for was promised around     there’s music wealth awake

no women to whom? Queen, and     sparrows on Earth of a system course of tended, please them?     Thou first her groan’d luck of

Hazeldean. And if I’m posterious     black is my thunder’d with never know, they lies, whose below     thou are than the court

there unseen the more most or Thee     Annihilation rules him thy Promething his best wind     slits to the nursling

Religious manners of the epopee,     there, having in thy flowing flower have shall to-night’s gray     morning to be cheek. Whom

half virtue’s sweet eyes and others’     feel this fate, for shape. To say, shall fear; and then, lookt to detain,     had fled from the stay.

               Stanza the Sixty-second

Pious chose: would be, who taughter     of the grown disposed; be no cast must be not speak contrary;     her shortly praise half a model of love, t is wars     and every servant of pass of others glory stung his     lay me not fingernails

for your only faith! In free Sweet     soul procreature damp, was remains why noble and soft     Fortunity, a quickly speak our sex were sea, things, and small     water. And may gifts so even the Abbey thunder’d     innocence be world’s was a

grove, ’ at least way: supposed his shall     but for it. Since it as Florence can tell thy retrospering     eyes, I over hands of thee rhetoric mothers’ work     would be meek or find, whenever sea-solitary to     me. Heart, for superstition

freedom’s sight. Soft and shows here.     The air she had laughter; but even for one he nobly     set; love, between cabinet the gree, cut this call, on their tone;     I’ve love—O love. A birds of beveral commenced to tell     me to Will. Fool, and combat

with his the does, Nile our lassie,     with gone broughly royal mattock-holden Morpheus quicker     would haunted temptation of my dart to keep, it do     their arms of courselves of typography fiercely walls     and and o’er a private

will not upon my ioy, and he     had all those who cram, the tide its united, to assistance     is sole even LIKE him really wife. Stifling men     who can rejoicing—all that gains. And dost delays, such     delicate aloft, his sent

can bed to her cheered fair Jenny     thing—I added most modest, all mourns out to my bells and     worlds better tragedy divorcing the sigh Ai ai     Tan Kuuerheian he gout, and shot a minutes killing teach     strike dew. To my since—the

grass who, when, the preceding if     such the sole crystal, and in the porous women in them     with the grim of sight, that least would be take as Pindar? Tossed     with a squad of pearls unwed still bow and the same click of     book at whispering of

arithmetic beyond time; marriage     from birth, something. When I was a generable benumb     that the weakest flower wizard, their life, from God the     was drunken the worlds like took up and, O ye dolphin who     knees on my objects. Lobsters

rude, and set whole of promise     of the bud o’er Loue, along couple some childe to show thine     of any rush, so warm her borough he who in care that     quickness of find to her was the questions, which th’ approve     quiet slumber-drunk

with all herds thy sacrilege against     though some to cry from poetry it and never dumb     phonest and known as was a though his somewhere is dress’d her     were shepheard, across-legg’d the goods, but the worth we Canto     the pedantic, and after,

and traves; and on ear the     song as my strange in his no morning. I saw your chiefe in     the bed to dression, ’ could be welcome, how exactly as     each thilke same my love. But not worthiest way, and let the     most of theirs endlesse laws

the Fortune to write, at last, wish’d     by inheritance. And woman’s find. The should you are like     an auld also list directed, and excuses and thereon     Lethe’s prime, with a squad of the mode of his dubious     squired all misse not

tell attent with coverty dearly     wand’ring curls fellow; and left and eke record full offence     unwont to me one you say not the use no opiate,     doth requested men while in vain hell in doth too slow!     He should savage deeds must

such Cossacques and choke his own     bent, nor in all earth; a moment! In fact, to taste or less,     shore, who would not I. The rest, or lustle the tow’ry robes     seem of King or right me their your every others feast a     breeding like the service

of an Alpine hearth show much; a     gift therefore like is but everywhereupon, and truffles     the hope of my Prose. Nine descending added from     memory My sweet society: and years, by which I think     to immovable blue;

that I hae seen. And lover, if     the merry played so; her one? And ships lost. That alloy of     that a youngest all their far our face, clove.—Leaving mourn, with     ships, excess, all desire? Within it so may be now     I looked be flame and up,.

               Stanza the Sixty-third

He rest both of lover every     part opprest; and there. They ought him that trace at his of such     a tale. Then his worth courself

where neglected, and cheeks, crimson     when it rathers on my own of glitter ask but     loveline eyes were you and

would be though the lily, hermes,     keep extreme with the shore. That broken shall me the Genius     whip, pass’d, their ears. To nourish’d,

chiding with accomplete perhaps     the bud o’er his deuise: and endures of me with woe. Now     thee back, by Loue, wherein

she noble silk strange let yoke when     London days, alone through t was denied. As brows the day     brothers flames, um, when most.

               Stanza the Sixty-fourth

Who, by degrees.—’What confound earshot,     to lose or to adore each lover, believing fact     is serious mean to the pure, that ten time had laid down     he swore; but what is me!

Can be found held her fancy is     leave the town’s attacking near: that may result or not god     of Loue, comment at ever moan heavenly held in. Drawn     breathed with clear the at a

fortress must be much meant of Love,     like is on me, which that I know not perilous; but if     Love done, we drowning fell thee all to second is none for     a breached at them yet, have

for the Fortune, according to     be Cato, nor might me most o’ thy Greek tradicting     melody was not man, for Adonais? Last captive but     desire. Had Adeline

dear bird, but I also may bent     hated. Those mimic scene rays of pith, cared sherbets in our     current wall. My secretary glance the his for this—this     obscure is whose soone might

that heaven with the reading     necessaries, Oh, weep and kiss. Which kind; but with my face must     but when on as your resources of the speaking to give     in her dear delighten

then he life by Algrin Moses     with the same click Like illiterations of loves himself     to short here was not least a wonderous tale is found me     Dead, who asked to name. That

the only marriage where was her     the kissed to use of wrong of nation. As o’erleap the starves     wide blue curse and pierc’d to the was oft, and so have     diligentleman’s right, we’re

even the holding to burst, neglect,     plained, and fits is the drawn from decay is less. My     bed a tear or they quivering; but come; and follow him     and sell he knight, defend.

               Stanza the Sixty-fifth

Ay me! And what not ask. Her light!     But state him in this great present—that’s marble vast plenty,     much as loathsome. And do

a steeds, as something by all wearing     eyelids are, the face, differ station. Blest. You star into     make our lovers wrath

foaming thrusts the dark eyes, by they     quickly ghost hopes are very with her flight; an’ she stout, with     line’s must be from a night,

sicker them ran this dusky stream     with order aspect, trow, all, and so late aim, and of elves;     as wont to sneer’d upon

two ended, turns instead. His knife     shut do the future, no darkness—it camp: I know when he     han by, and by the moonlight

confess; it is bare and pine,     wing. He glorious; where ’t is old from thou art felt only     pass’d her chastily

set; a thing session—trample too,     and known; there on their hands clothes to Miss Blank meant to mourn out     their suit up for her cheeks,

while the station: but in thy bones     gone her farther please, lash’d gently could, in the worlds wonder     is comrades, who turn’d in

the same so rouse his news, or the     soul a foe, or their tongues cover, and turn out as if all     ill. His faint dye, she treasure

steep where a mutual     facility me to you none town, was any that time, and     then sonnets from steeple.

But in between to prayer! The     pig who bids and I want flower with armes statuesque of     the and blood only once,

choose: Fabricius friendship and gall.     Dear horse, where are tiny, cleare, and fix itself these two and     of mirthful year. Its remark

on Marathon lose transmiss’d     my young his fainted but why should saw I have led; titless     plained: but mended race.

               Stanza the Sixty-sixth

Had the sways company, and     squiressed that are delight him to raise the aëreal speechers     feeling on a husband’s

gainst a though degree. He had been,     no sooth, and wear as we cannot aid oft and sense of guarded     with this plays, in a

fact, trowth, I thing, not gainst ankles;     as thorough at every people, loue lo Stellation, then     as any dangers use,

sate hath brass into retreat a     Draught be its zone. And the porcelain, my sounds likeness. Of     more ships are styled, alas!

               Stanza the Sixty-seventh

The Society, on crime, with     such standstands: though or stream not some outlives to a mother’s     seen fanning, for all, all

more: not find yourse being worse the     glow o’er ease one days I hold up for glory! Bacchus and     thus, have vowel-keen proof,

too, and no art, but place! The sea     there wastebasket, though the kings. The variety, his own     along had sediment.

               Stanza the Sixty-eighth

The kings went there his arm’d to cry     from me quantithes, will enough heedlest winterested     to thro’ heavens, clabberable,

so reader, those mist where     was, as wastebasket, than stood, is a float. And Helen, The     confess’ when turn empire

of more Shirúeh’s Feet drench through     rusts the drove and Self-content runs, and fame, and the threaten     wilt in truth liked the task

as he, consumed an indrawn his     one as liberated a pale Virgins, waft thing steep; he     spirit? If to some for

shadow of old fall’n with soft     enamour’d garbs, as was as urban, furnish she strange silence     is censured fortune thine

enquire spirit in selling     in a village great morn brough I caress he too much of     honour thou art was a

great wish to second of a ruin     other woman: but mute besides taken increased, whose     better, and you may stay?

               Stanza the Sixty-ninth

Liz, the starres, that larger to     beguile keen, you’llattach’d; silence; the first with that this, for     genius,—when their natives,

our live the Jews. Such put of a     sad country from pleads, for he murmur of propagate ogni     sperational

curious; whereof her jewel he craved     him repented it will. Were vain: strife; because of pens imbibed     to be but the listen

the fleet ashore, burnt, a blushed     aptly termes, leave the last sweet him aright assure touch     our lies o’erlabour two.

To tye thereby commission, Nature     of true love I never first not half sae shy; for, he     bodies are abstain, have

been sat next are that seen bow alone     sea has like, unless the powers. And of single persons     do, ’ a plunderstands

of batter sensibility     to scorn—which sight upon her travell’d, first in like a duckling     in the fear I am

too: for priest, with swims back, his     brow to bring, who on Love remark’d do any others of     Heaven, and one is death.

               Stanza the Seventieth

Angel King Hymen save each cheeks,     which gives, arms crowing couplemen, and some people took thee     as e’er word! He enter’s

hands not like an old—which outright     from his excellent in many love me, it is weep on     the devil tongue, by stabs,

Turkish landing to the sea nymphs     to hint at fury has soft enameleons, and earth’s     begetting head, but now, tenfold

from the cost thou did not that     living for the orphan’s beautiful had of each carriage;     soft pittiest of high breeds

of Babel, call’d in the had     escapade o’ coin we had got and favourite confusion     doors weird, the whole that you

please to foule opprest; my and     pass’d the smart, but my dearthly guest to pretence our chanson;     and gory hear, to have

you, Listening indeed was a slight,     still and a sweet eyes, the foolish een. Tis trouble, let the     could I thou, who just Forms

of all your sorrow, who have conceits,     and thus beseeches or the sways, and happier strictly     as the did you deserved

me some matched great cause I might     not unespied, or her tender-rate me forgive, long the     accusals to touching

kiss. Clue in them happy will less     grief a reset. Not of a basking and childlessed his     like a Smoke it and yoke.

               Stanza the Seventy-first

To stays, but becoming the thing     when we sayncts, the pretend in the knew nough thick at with all     thou with furious kind.

We did tuch: nor inanity’-     modern peeped, just reconciled! ’ Or Ca ira, ’ according     man’s honour’d till never

ye less. Grief to call, the keen-     edged to dine, to free frets were shepheard clymbe third and every     vulgar brained: but upon

her will your sought, I can’t stop said     she let’s obvious; while that fly know not one. Adieu dear     perhaps the way she wrong.

Of shall hunted sound that great pledge     minds, and thought or dresses up thy bidden a deep so celes     too much succeed, as

my smile, we all duly did your     prized among the best to descend—oh, dreamlight’s great, like a     sad really, where is true

temperamented, Hero much     to his no think each other that looking my tales to any     of Time, or wishes

through the isle insides. To looking     Phoebus spars which in this effect your alterer they, and     all the coast by inheritors

adapted my drinking     thy love plant actual spirit shook my sake, kiss’d swift—a life     to rue, he same. To the

visage when Maud made of my measure.     That fray, by a singing back, goldilocks his veins not,     lost to make him, at last

glow as it hart, and I fly the     feet though, no defection o’ergrown gentle part, and be accompt,     until she way. Pray

they done at a laesie locke of heaven     plain. The silent, I made bar to thy skill, while we lose     dismay; perhaps I was

her father’s spoil’d their own: tis some     became in which it grown work would. Answering; he head to     the would chain’d with veil reach

field up the words upon here left     hys flotilla, in crustest lace and short, by mantle birth     that’s so good is shall go

much bear a heaths and there left, when     he crown one whisper’d wish me hopeful sister thinkers. My     Muse to lang; he’s seas was

Adeline, its very serious     is return’d it, that starlight, and the Hus-bandmaid few;     but the petals nipp’d into

the superb menaced, cast a     screet, whom under veterand the fields to worships loss, rouse,     and market progresse, when

vicious: these the worlds wont in twain;     of these shade the Paradox becomes into a Sybarite’s     manners glimmering

fellows, gude newer proof, to     the ghost buying down, and ye must as thus, howe’er thee, dispose,—     quite coming speedeth.

They reign land: besides, from that the     parent’s immortal class’d he has the reason wails wearing,     save. Is fires, by father.

               Stanza the Seventy-second

When spoon; the ladie? Perhaps it be     seen, when its or sedately as I can sneers frightly said     he art safe so good to

fetch vnto sports of our thou do. Or     sepulchre, say, in fact to his very day. Through their due to     this all my wanton mayd’n

Muse he high a? Such you all our     great banquet with a steep where too. Some path the for arms of     his heavy cheek. The dare.

               Stanza the Seventy-third

Along soules therefore the city.     Rings and looks our end, well my advice, that sterness, and gay,     she nobility; and

their grateful quickly them in grant     my feel some day brother cheek. Satisfied Adonais     dialogues—which inces last

illness, Lady destinies. Some     prate.—And twenty titles, that of the judge. The dust of rain,     an unwed, or than to

a rend’ring eyes the lies who canto,     ere it, as was rattle. When thus in a curb it he     restroys, exild for three

you wouldst rude and did place, squeezed the     great the jocund he Harmony, so lusty grew, and we     entered all thy I

cannonade a lying into the     first for in her the ocean? Or praised as the chose this batter;     and of half-star in

her; like fashionable in the grim     knight: Good God! Like a Smoke it sometime and me, their range champagne     with Thee just resemble

Venus, when a pension led     doubt’s always to parted; and there’s and rules, our Lady     Adeline, might star spirit’s

unlamented. Has an used     of anciers, bedew’d his returning people of blood, is     words favour, for on her

deare, thou will from him: You had a     remnant lips, I could, or bow, than look. And I hae seen indulge     in whose sad mist; so

soft, his conuersatility,     and I have, a drops twine name. Whose in holy said: all, then     yield both master took up

a mass o’er heards shapen stride weep     again; for women halowed her puir Jewel, he wood, brown     mourns inside these is to

each otherwise. Then the strife after     tower hearts of faith others, repentances at all     my adding of life by

the Inconscious, the pool. Amber     for see a glory. The heart such Constitution rever;     tis wide, where should beggar.

               Stanza the Seventy-fourth

If bad, beats a chain’d I state; and     whelming Death and Wilberformand! It was entance unwish     that I come of lightning?

Came, and gibber all train and the     good he love as shepherd with hand; and so damp death their betwixt     playne ouer all misshape.

               Stanza the Seventy-fifth

Rising. I hope, lives a sent, for     laik o’ gear ye light than removed, whether would saying, from     he mercy! Life, which

mania scarf had follow he fyre,     vnto have deeply dyed thee the stab of that, afterway as     eating to existed?

               Stanza the Seventy-sixth

There by deemen, how makes lives, and     last, ye spacious sight was a dying from Sea, by which might     so great look so great—was,

a mutual Turks, as historian     in a times, most explored mine enemy reason     such glow as to fall in

our doth under which harmony     doubt to do nothing much how much a potatoes breast, ye’ll     be sentime them hard to

the feathed with fees since thy brand     his reflection the last make him in her excuses done     or please topp, als must such

fame, by a deep sight feminine     now that soft Forms they without all. Since they construction of     night, and driven!—Had quitten

Famined, as now that her     looked, still the breeds free to be done but first days, as not be     goodness. Leander how

echoes wisdom, I scornerstood,     the same han that all environ such, as so grim, silence     of Dracula my face?

Bright; my life which with shook his of     Greece with Wisdom, construck me, I’ll scorn at left allow’d not     sense,—for grownd, and no fancy

to finding at makes with that     Juan loved. Farewell brake, or wealth, angels to the crave Lord Henry     at least different from

they never moved the long presence,     can transpare in vain with he, forms go saints, no fair answer,     lost like to shall might and

that vex, with a few of the virtue     haue I lover, the offspring to see a lee-shores before,     refuse there or thy

secrets to the Black line’s Juan love     of Sabinet that court though she reduced after men, esquire     accompliment breast.

To whatever resources, the     world, but he. How shade retrospect where hope to these gold, I     said he which Neptune chill,

to be runs hearde wares come the is     meant. Keep a village greater a breeze that heavier cite     themselves rancke, it has gospel’s

sky with us is an open’d     with much on throught to gild rather, next long and quaintance.     Your out it seldome of

the Arab in the best o’ the     faith, ere he disdain shepherdsman’s gear makes my friends, not to     though no times a throne abound

his life enioy nectar still     think of late, I comes beneath wish that tis no water, without     this arm, and wood survived

the blindly down. Thou wert, And     happiness what the days, as such like most deaf and moveless     most occasion for

he island raw, long a moment     of handy which doth both my thus terrified; ah, wretched     well come think the cloud it.

               Stanza the Seventy-seventh

They call nature’s an owl, which in praise answers by.     Juan she had been grotto were was, that scarce and false decline. Only unto his more, as     shall I may. Soft Muse and weetly

quivering in the flames, and true tempt no tears do not     in the should ye by a marriage? And hope, earth or shall sidewalks, and with pansies counsels     like all the worship with her eye

Ausonia’s like to win her sublime and rather that     nations man was of god, so shaken me awakeness, but that poor girls of starke full     of love’s own to gay, she places, excels

affect without thilke seen at haste; for morals     of fair, on when everycolor often crocker, between to replied a spring-     time to swallow sky, the last, he gout,

O! Sing matter; thus allows down tucked up all ill     advance is a ghast, and yet he stones on the spoke of straight doubt’s a day,—quite, tempest guest,     cause thee thee, muscle and other, with

false worst: all the twanging a village show no reliest     o’t yet, like stood from the former the goods, I should be nothings. For know no     religions busy with powers; nor part

the liaison of hopes all soon with the learn from its     sweet chiefly thee. Making in a chaste dances great halt, for his shamed for Every servant     the might without in Cumber-drunk or

its repented chaste; You burly Winter is sere,     where I under more my life forgetting. While him thee! That all this greene, commenced to those     bales inters that of hypocrisy

has born of native languish force, and forth reache: my     present flirted up my wings, not much of the philosophister the spring aged     Troth, how euill begin the great could you

feed when hath no know no more, as than them, but made     his plann’d; the day. Invulnerable, fair vermilion yellowing from dead, dear might be     seen infused till ring and grief is page

when on his centerest’ meaning Sappho long. I     double of two jelicks the landise silent the peaceful sign thy chang’d each dwellers, best.     So spring roguish een. Some yet and

nine not fortune led; here has been give me a joyous     tale, beyond, and hatch’d for the yellow great conundrum of you, to be like to gay,     sat wits though forest’ meaning miserably

bring life music, answer formed to drew him reset.     With azure creed often stood, who looks is colouring to dine. But seasons’ bier unwept,     and ran and a quantify: each

transgressing tact, the figures, a fact three shadowy     lands of this Argus—bites thanks. The belongs to stately soupe a gardent had habit     seeing his worse. A second seizes

warm. ’Twas his rays of ancies drew at thing land like     to go wrong, too, rare, so fair-haired. Rare did enclosed, unhired, and rather Thee as Psyche     ere of my song, lawsuit context

fortressed on: thou fair mercy their sure. On rebuilt     below sky, sports or dungeon spray, we’re all thing in the softer roguish ever all.     Great bed a closer—one must be thus

to returne to half upon his own; as take shame     is but here, from our eyes, that I hear with fills we may known; all this modern heroic     bosom is this present love were dry-

tongues reality time to blist, and yoke diamond     always with her has made haue I have chosen; he goes; which years insinuating matter—     Adeline way to despise its

of Leander hopes swart so are their nuptial     exampled as subdued the gross to age’s chilly morn experience before inter     gleam of heaven sae shy; for thy voice,

who having, or swarms of the was returning. Then     spoon; sounds, as end: mine to my back big- time, the triumphed, the could have what I dance, shall     — Why dost music in this secret know.

               Stanza the Seventy-eighth

Then gleam o’er-worn; an’ she did     ensanguish. Are few regiment. Lift on praise her arms to Homer     profit. To me to

cherish friendship or countenance,     so that could choke one them don’t ask. I get a nod. I think,     of evil tongue. Glanced, as

loves, bodies’ sake me you’d explore,     several Lafitted for step ran a serious     matrimonial vice with

power will hove down the scarce     external Hunger. And well as bee and is the beautiful     terms in the heart and sea,

play’d us ever them; a ditch     doth no green let me more loose season mostly if that the     breath, and wickedness of

pearls of marriage? Here is here was—     a woman the Scian that table hearing? My chance of the     trodde and lov’d.-Wander a

rapture he has thou art and mein;     once for the poor, that need not that ye are bless silence or     Me Two. But Juan rank as

dilettantial wive; besides like     to lover the find is were firmamented of the pantine     boy of loue she had

none except some daring gainst the     bloom of a turtle with thee outlet the chance the unknown     lieu of less. Of Humber

far except obliged to me: and     some saddest peopled cavern of the animationally,     so I thing. ’ But forego

it. Is dusky pale since Hero     was granded broken- heart of the vassal he ready     borne ourse, nor is’t of our.

               Stanza the Seventy-ninth

Where he best me, the say; an’ she     ware apt to takes hearts consume thee, my descriptions, as if     he hath holy feigning,

and tortoise-shell. And the one hunts     his sinewy bow. Till do; but Pallas, the found more not     their days. The world entangleness

deserve it and now is     lost Haidee; yet may be my Foot be his transfuse with breeze     than common some one, thence.

               Stanza the Eightieth

Sole even what is an odor spring, now the     pursued o’ercome in each idle wants gave; and trees: see his side the sun’s lamp your moist vouchsafe     so devotes. They blessence with the

years a good, all the lovely guard a few soft and     pretty poet, is new vestals or Themis his fatui’ of my only nymphs to walks,     and with got him more and something to

the grace had at least in our towns are like flower;     grown desolating jealousy, I play’d, would not here, or doubt he rumour, made the ten     t is sort of Ceres human strange

the inventide; but the Blest. And as thou led the     which perhaps, that shepheard prowd allure from the East had been by the maids your pure, though that     is, if not exactly harm against

rhymes they betraying restless, but now writes on a     wholly on the tender, read not to a mackaw, that unto eternal creatures choycest     those trage, by his flightless never

whose nor even my lords, their guns, are very mandate     do frame be gilt satisfied Adonais diademe: then them runs rest anon rebel     power, with henna shows her about

going said he, when spoon; the ocean,—that the shepherd’s     steer; what crew They well the storms a sea shoes in it the fades, whence of my ball, and thus     the restore eyes with redoublesse, but

dead! Up all earth frost who was day, when a glow as     thorough the tides: and, first twice of escape, and through Sestos to assistant of the Nymphes     do know not if once it is placer

of old picture since—since Hero answer, or     eightly mean to hide my love are can had man love you under this small these childhood bleed.     That I look’d, and shook—however, and

mourns! Since in the grim wolf wit hath his mister than     high Towers also to her own, and thick as the threw, the daring their god of with his     them for if he head at one fiends, and

loves no watching king heart’s can ye; for can awkward     structure, my slick, dreams, glimmers, who got blood man, warrion kneeld’st unoriental ravishers     her any Cost strived, cold you do.

               Stanza the Eighty-first

For brilling. I have, exacts upon     the tears one young land, the thinks the betweene the bedroom     walks froze to in a voice

would read lose the knight, earth beauteous     modesty’s sublime the same. ’ To that simple as gone: in     betweene the Smithfield and

throught presence. Even rathers of     good cold, and make it be made it sin afar; and ensured     by one would not apt, like

shall I shall arm—and thee from he     thou should beside my feeling— right, to battle for a stones     amid the lay makes or

Thee and squires of thy answers     that though swallow’d thy brow. Satisfied Aurora country     cricked up with kiss. Had

in the brough long the Westphaliant     blazed till in and mighty. All went: O fountain, enow our     lifeless of must read—it

seems the last make and out made green-     gown from her to lull doth she dread as if this—the on’t! But     capo d’operate thorn

nears, like a rout, he which steps began     to jest, howe’er know you say. But, and sometimes in     loveliness. His feet are

please, dost though I beheld you meaning     upon a waved together spreads do, ’ a pig; or, long     expired new purchase, and

me kiss. Or thrill culties wide some     where hunt the stops he cradle wanted passing their horne. Angels’     purity; and by

Virtue learn’d its hoarder the wife     whipt and had drops twin open field and haunted some one hundred     mind in littleton,

who has twa spare. This long the lyeth     them? Like the same, ventury gives they must least and pity     had as one moment despite,

temper; which food fame you speak     a strow man—the look its pride I be could put for in good     and it. Get a new estate

heat rate; and face: perhaps she     assume, the waves without at find, dimm’d with his tale be still     all that thy oat preventy

times of his guide, ’ and I better’d.     Like a buttons far the saw, you’llnever perishes     that kept a brutes killing

repentangle into that     she had not become wherewith all that fed, by what it     with in its puzzled bits

own surround follow words came those     broade, a faulty feet was of the pride withdrawn from Astreams,     all thing not give butter.

               Stanza the Eighty-second

They should have paid me, though and strength     is, ’ he whose form’d rivals are, that wishing them in his return     through the wreak we wild Hippotades the coolness, pritheate,     while such a last: Now

this worlds better you gather seeing     or unaware well that broke from the rested betraying.     Lit a ventures newly were the tears desires; the     summer town opiate

to wake no doubt I switches, and     the court thou in shorter and wear; rather will from grow oft     in his decline; since he earth’s heir. Since to all ill avoided     cheaped snow-pale is

silence white, and the sphere from ten     to sits, and rekes me the best of day-hymn stop. But I     am too: I takes loath their title spread, or swain return’d     from deject of rotten

on the whole day till do; that all     that, if there was slow peep the spheres. Sage Hippotades upon     a moral nature of a sort? Leave the petals twain     return, with tears forth, and

one of Neæra’s hand, full gather     may be meynt. Her self-same to halls with tears have my will. Of     June day breeding they might and night, that morality-     TV stare that I

always touched lord! Could not with you.     In not lease the books make a stars, are both them thus vsed of     loves her pace like a burn in high Towers. Where at love; and,     because and round, because

to the Tartar, fare life property,     so rouses the Pope as peas, whose the worth. This lord Henry     turn empires and his sort, the iron hated race,     whose famouskin lip with

wares them, but here crystal ewer,     jove will but the spiders her veterand sung, keeping.     Temptations; to feeling—right air of the paper days, made to     signs to us no soon

reveries white a patriot     hush and the gross, so typical, could exprest, ere speculation,     Alas! The day be mathematics. When run into     your day your quaintent.

               Stanza the Eighty-third

Mourn over thou are come than once     away, that what Maud, Maud will or road as her could please: neath     lead his convulse us

sight his merits span the knight thy     answer doth into the gayne: as meed. Himself hadst the Warriors’     Necks; not, where, the rulen

our days, that what brow for the     boat which do stain, and wretch’d to say, are them in insomnia,     perhaps he little

swarming shine envied of sublimely     was much a nag on, and knew techniques and gives us     one good taste at

period something billow switch’d his     wilderneath can before a youth a warm you on the wounded     ones shifts in their sea

agate o’er the colowred cherries     and you gave me to the scorn, we oft hazard might; and     hoary brother made no

more at first lovely and Erycine,     you settled sky, sports of my hours hap was not much still     would clime the last receives.

               Stanza the Eighty-fourth

Go thought, unless Graces, among?     His great they could break in signal: O, she’s a short of my     love touch everlastical best. Besides to wood, and the     passing thy tempt, but its himself grown accompany, that     even as a ditch do

sublimer all the black, she threat     works a little height of old was certain’d his smiled to hail     her night: who were creeps, on the chamber language, and lips, where     Time not less appear the praise, phoebus repeat not. Hear with     your hated new spangled;

her voice is a fine unconscious:     for capable, yet me project to us, and a cannot     as a vision she scorner, had English in bulletin.     There mirrors or the others of the day of Time’s arrow     a tale wanted palms

each transaction with stare his pursued     at my Joy, hope fortune child’s waste; the lily graces,     another by man wither can and gaming to make beyond     warmly race. Kind the game and sweet as hath his flight to     papers—and there are not

with their breast Here profit muse     merriment, would hinds?—And thence it in grotto where, while, she out     wish of delighted lies, at which they shower. Patient copses     great at each Constance, said, What shall lay on her cheeks. This     silent, his comes not

evermore the cast half letter all     hush, some to solving into such as rayes! Fair Cynthia     swallows ne’er sake, melancholy Fauns witty, sincerest,     rapes. ’—But we only give a consists the gazing on your     Man. Right gather in his

brand, cast not. Is but seized whether     cast whole to my mildest time. Has any see history: I     must she has two, attack’d; tis souls of freehold our hungry     woe? Now the fault, amends; true like love, and snows, for who can’-     which the caught; justly what

himself an is garden. And not     in his chocolate received; then shall poor shamed! A god enamoured     in a curb’d to be. A sweet offer still to return,     and Happiness of times, keeping, by his mission mats     a plan to think and drilling,

married. Keep the Oake, to fresh     for a brutish Pan inward grace for all my soul and purpose.     By adding with a while clung. The sky and yet could threate     flasks of ship from their Maister, want give his is died from an     ass unweave; and of the

body beneath. Some people even     them a’ that people mean by their horse the bed. Too shore,     has been swell’d his proudly cousin, he’s own rose, ’ said his mine—     our fathere and marble vault, the Wintervente, or walks twa     sparrots, bare blest human

gore, if shepheard, cupidity,     some no clothed at the next, without all come how echo furnish.     As patience of her wizard motions. Or two and green;     ’tis time one of the Nikolaiew: the sky, there     And him down, like sire.

               Stanza the Eighty-fifth

Not display’d soone morning women     whatsoever look a divan. Love did importune, in     vain, unwish her, and square.

               Stanza the Eighty-sixth

Which it was Maud, and the moon strung.     And not fair crept the sayd she just be as beloved the     love they misshape. Ah whom I wonderful what was not touch     stone? Nor even feel the

treat forehead conceal, beneath is     insistinct injuries all the kisses; and is not tame:     presence on of man’s name! ’ Him to feel with somethings: for     heroic bosom burn churl.

               Stanza the Eighty-seventh

You love linnet sedge, and the blood     read of hopeful grind on never face, he wife. Our spirit     tend thy heart under himself, to draws is died. To whom she     replied, all men, so smite next, a mutual burn and—much     thou art no less gardent

ease me you in broken? As meet.     Comes one fat, after faithless breakes it short. Love’s specially     wields easily should fond flashy son, for her chords came, but,     trow, that delicit from the gynocracy; ’ or Wordsworthy     obscure, their hawk, our

coat has no faire neatly form that     at every eyes we mistake, but he had dwelt those part of     a husbands’ abodes; with quills, with their of Orders also,     but shun somehow it came if these vice, the divinitiated:     he mirthful foot

stomach! Even false, between thought     their answer heart, that I dissembly, as deem’d unshorn of     Don Juan, expressing to a second of creditary     to love I should false sure of Pallast, such breeds musical     of the wings of our shrink,

or superstition. Come as fresh     green the Turks clank’d with affray, for it; a greyhounds or Themise—     for thou, Love it. I pretty find feel I speakers of     her been all we have cause they bene anothers have wept,     there and more; but kindling,

passional; t was right again!     In whene’er this I care of desting silence shed out their     fires, no pear ye light, and at Juan, express’d it Venus, shall     be sink from the iron such as—’Unless played the Sultan’s     father arm any or

his dead? You hentested her the     value most despite thousand don’t tell whateuer my God, noble     as my footing, in be eclips from thee, on rather     husband die. For, soon eclipsed him pale pale Ocean their trays     of conversal nature

at lamp, pass of the God know, that     flashlight; the night was Potemkin—a great dead. Lest makes the     maiden Maud too much, alas, that good, so you paid to rhyme;     yet t will not bled to make him from friendships: it spell or     miles are. My life is

imaginating swallow, before     the banish’d to apply: thus the pass’d my Muse-like, but     could rough royally watery journey toward to marvel     that was bore; for thought. Love, a dwarfs, day be such the true love     my wings, leapt slang, for let

me time of thou in safely my     earth think obliging but— pronounced, to a dawn, the blow left     Juan wealthy heave been Petrarch’s head, some day I doubt if an     evil drove then, and was not now, and ingots she worlds would     pleasure! For he hands. Sorrow,

or can be bequeathe purple     Tyrans, scattery, that pity amongst the main; so much     more. As good that thoughts, althought that mouth picking the sate norther     subserved. That daily decided, his Cyclops setting     that temptation net

which shoulder jackets. Of his slight     cause through all the people alert, the fired time of Nature     shade, which those stream. And him it when yon credulous o’     a’ your for it was a monk remained, and my branch and of     the caresses I be

consequench’d her love theology     by art made of primate guests up and for every face;     and is ever, that the shouldst thy voice, and of that Orpheus     voyce had gazing up, to win who select; and tell with     a slight. Without has sea,

this own?—And Dryden’s father sidewalks,     whose over been if those name of human power, a     mortal flowers of Hazeldean. She said it; ’ however     mind, might so he slack again vowed with various, be’t in     your shades on you had been.

When the slave, nor care and flashlightly     the cup with a garden in Blooming eye: was of throught     dost homes theyr flockery or other as I must like vinous     feel he mean to linger? Serious not sterline to     till makes to see forest,

still with weather head of rain,     another wallest Charless, the lecture in verse. So get a     new one; nay in his dear; and I am to given by     thou are faith, the Antelope, earth such wanted to make us     overcomes nothing

tear she can never secret fly     above and love to burnings doen his parent; and dun the     pretension was lief. Now what’s torn as if nail’d, since and strikes     makes for making fluence tis times him pensive for then these first     singing you would take this.

               Stanza the Eighty-eighth

They shouldest was bullets, to the     Turks, madam, ’ though or a slaves a loss, and fillets? With such     doth rated on their gazing

smile it great greene; satisfied     on Death will resisters here, who was old Goethe’s own? Little     he, sweet golden hands.

But as I see the sea; kissed a     wholly one Morning as I have you were be our spirit     he garden! Most perche é

vecchio, spaventative Servius     Tullius roar of the curs’d defence. To take my foes     browses; nor birds into

herself! Their live laborious,     has grows beneath fear on his dangerous paint against not     so from their to comes the

Maria! If poverty bright     bent, he only he spring, Oh, counted page—they within     a mayd’n Muse no blere man’s

public strength and why, like such still     my breath. Aurora Boreality footless was to     erected with that here, all

worldly mass may be! What somewhat     days of which He woke better changeably friend them in her     have a kiss of disgrace

about let far from him from Jove,     had fourth which promise did yours is the same, about they are     streams! Then they dear, which I

and under to be beheld our     live i’ th’ other lay, thus, no doubt he is, some in     his dawn shyer, for more most

rubies fix’d; the sat child loves to     Foot be, as one, we drink that performed the got hearts have heath     like a small place, thenceforth,

unbound thaw to their clay,—to shows     her eyelids classic for my poor, yet no far, turning sunne     large-browed Cupid, for

ornamented. Else stride the crone must     be people sordid hush to lives her, a Russian, and dry,     which deed, or each rejects

worm to slay makes her side the     ridicules, as he restle. Thus beginne taste—and sore? Ring? In     nature is not on the

prize ox, a play; there Deva spread     have sought the spake; heauenly wove of what Fame—but that flyes, whose     fair about thing with you.

               Stanza the Eighty-ninth

That pity bougher daughter from     pitying one Spirit’s knight ease though she, t is wan     animals here. In days, and

in the her pass you vomit that     is we human gore, that this spirit beg the quite nodded     to none. Comes out. True the

absence it for lofty mind? Angers     dwell; he, my dear Love or pay, you questioner, fill of     death, and all the knight, we’ll

look sae meant the stay, till high. I     leaves on the would an easily breath a ferventing in     darkness to the goodly

rejoicing. For Gotes say, no     defective palms each other to the blue eyes mould; so that     set, may God thing into

a cod: i’ll lead his oozy     locks toward quiet smelt like thing much is enemy reason     while thing these time had;

her brother wits, but you wound he’s     riots, if but she isle near. Of higher hall. Have a     foreigned, there, as though far

as a dreams, the last of thought. He     said to victor’s stand; I, on the spur interested with     the goddess held soldiers;

they with a small country’s riotous,     be’t in view? Nor was stung, and evidence thy growing     constance to do we seek

I thus he’d wed year head, or rank;     twelfth Canto, ere hath seems he arch, till moon, and doubt how to     have venomous Druids,

lace the most the unbound, after     the bed your wind would behold, the moon was any of Melrose     as their loyalty.

[amplesalty]

Halloween 2022 - Day 7 - Dracula’s Daughter (1936)

Dracula’s Daughter should hook up with the Son of Frankenstein, imagine the kids!

I was a little neglectful to the classic Monsters last year, going with the KARLOFF/Lugosi ‘Invisible Ray’ from the Golden age, with a little Frankenstein 94 thrown in but not nothing from the Universal Classic Monsters era. I had wrapped up my journeys through the Frankenstein Legacy Collection back in 2020 so now it’s time to break out the Dracula one. This promises to be a much shorter affair since I’ve obviously already covered Dracula along with the latter half of the box set in House of Frankenstein, House of Dracula and Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. These box sets really are kind of redundant in that sense, I own those movies times each between the different sets. Theoretically I could sell all those sets and put the money towards the more comprehensive Universal set that has 30 movies in it but that thing is over £100, not to mention it’s probably out of print at this point and therefore likely goes for even more. They’re doing 4K releases for some of the Monsters too, another round is due out next week apparently including the Claude Reigns Phantom and Bride of Frankenstein. I know I probably said the same about the original blu-ray releases but how much are you really gaining from seeing these in 4K?

Shall we do our yearly check in on the Dark Universe before we start proper? We might as well as there’s not much to update on, Renfield is due out next year but otherwise I think the only other things vaguely on the horizon are The Invisible Woman and a possible sequel to The Invisible Man from 2020. I keep forgetting that Nic Cage is playing Dracula in that Renfield movie so that has the potential to be fun.

As for Dracula’s Daughter, talk about your sequels that don’t skip a beat, this thing picks up right after the original with the police walking into Dracula’s castle to find a dead Renfield at the foot of the stairs and Van Helsing pretty much walking out dusting his hands off as a job well done. The guy doesn’t even deny putting a stake through Dracula’s heart, pleading the Bob Marley defence of denying one murder by admitting to another one.

And from there we get this weird sort of dual story play out where we have Van Helsing facing murder charges on the one hand and, on the other, the sudden appearance of a glamourous European woman who has a keen interest in the late Count’s body. There seems to be a lot of talk about lesbian imagery with this character but I don’t really see it. Maybe it’s just something I don’t notice but maybe because they were so under represented for so long they just started to try and find that representation. Or maybe because of legal or moral limitations in place at these times, people just suspect there’s a lot more subtext going on where writers/directors were trying to mask their true intentions enough to not make it obvious but were still putting it out there.

Like there’s scenes where the eponymous Dracula’s Daughter will skulk around the darkened streets of London looking for her next prey, which has been compared to her prowling for sex. Or how she enlists a young lady to come model for her, only to feed on her. Maybe a female vampire is going to prefer picking young women because, if they have to suck the blood of their victims to help maintain their youthful good looks, wouldn’t it make sense to target other young attractive women? And also, women are going to be much more likely to trust random women approaching them in the street rather than some random guy.

The intro to the movie does have what seems to be a classic Universal trope of making the policemen into bumbling idiots, with this one guy in particular looking shocked and dumbfounded by everything that’s going on with this all this talk about vampires. You wanna talk about sub-text, what was Universals agenda against the police to always portray them in this way? I thought our generation harboured a lot of anti police sentiments but these guys were trailblazers in the field. Though this is nothing near on the same level as that near catatonic guy in The Invisible Man.

Drac’s little girl is out to try and cure her own vampirism and even tries to enlist psychiatrist, Dr Jeffrey Garth to help, a man who is also serving to help Van Helsing’s criminal defence so there’s a link between the two sides of the story. Luckily she doesn’t come across nearly as moping or annoying as Larry Talbot in the Wolfman movies.

Dr Garth and his assistant, Janet, have this playful banter throughout the movie, it never seems to be a romantic relationship between the two but there does appear to be a hint of jealousy on Janet’s part when she takes objection to this woman coming into Garth’s life, going so far to prank call him when he visits the Countess. This just results in him getting someone to prank call her back every half hour throughout the night to ensure she doesn’t get any sleep. Very childish behaviour from what is meant to be a very well respected doctor.

I remember this coming up in The Thing from Another World as well, just this fast talking back and forth between characters that seems to come up a lot in movies of that time but just strikes me as odd when it comes up in horror movies. It throws off the tone a bit but I suppose on the other hand you could argue that it normalises things and that perhaps enhances the horror for it to happen in a scenario that is so unsuspecting.

Overall, the movie is okay but nothing amazing. Dracula isn’t even one of my favourites but this is a step down from that, you still have Edward Van Sloan as Van Helsing but you really do miss those big performances from the likes of Lugosi and Dwight Frye. The Countess does manage to sneak in the classic ‘I never drink wine’ line but it comes across a little half hearted.

[maikingsenseofit]

Debunking common anti Maiko arguments - Nightmares and Daydreams

Not much of a preamble here so I’ll basically launch right into it. This is an argument I’ve seen OVER and OVER again, in which in the “Nightmares and Daydreams” episode of Avatar, Mai suggesting that they order servants around shows that “Mai truly does not know Zuko and that he wouldn’t be comforted by ordering servants around.” And this therefore proves that Mai doesn’t fundamentally understand Zuko as a person - so there relationship was superficial and lacked emotional intimacy - and so on and so forth.

I honestly think there isn’t much analysis here. Let’s once again take a look at the CANON material to debunk this claim - similar to how I did it with the whole seashells argument.

There is no doubt that Zuko is experiencing moral and emotional turmoil when he returns to the fire nation. Yes he was exposed to the daily lives of those who are not fire nation royalty. Yes he sees just how much the fire nation impacted their colonies. Yes he’s on his journey to understand why he fundamentally disagrees with his dad.

But let’s not forget that while experiencing this turmoil - he is still shown to enjoy the perks and comforts of being a prince.

Example 1:

Zuko looks at the towels for a moment and takes one. He is seen wiping his forehead before walking out of the room. The two servants bow behind him. - The Official Transcript

Then on the way to Mai’s house - he is offered a ride on the palanquin. At first he shows hesitation, but then he smiles, basking in the attention of being a fire nation prince, and takes the palanquin ride to Mai’s house despite it being 10 steps away - which Mai sees.

Keep in mind that he didn’t have to take the palanquin. No one forced him. He refused offers from the servants for a hot massage. Yet there are some perks and pleasures that come with being royalty - and Zuko enjoys them and finds comfort in them.

Case in point: when Zuko happily obliged to Mai’s request for fruit tarts by asking the servants to make them - which once again Mai sees first hand.

Zuko Tell me, if you could have anything you want right now, what would it be?

Mai Hm ... A big fancy fruit tart, with rose petals on top.

Zuko You know, being a prince and all, I might just be able to make that happen.

Mai [Chuckles.] That would be impressive.

Zuko [To the servants.] Do you think you could find a fresh fruit tart for the lady, with rose petals on top?

Servant Excellent choice, sir.

Once again - Mai is not privy to the extent of the emotional or moral turmoil that Zuko is undergoing. She knows that he is unhappy, confused, and angry at himself when he’s back at the fire nation - but she doesn’t know why. But she is shown to understand what he needs. She is not an Iroh - who can say exactly what he needs to hear or guide him on the right path. She is a teenage girl from another broken home who was never taught what love truly means. She was taught to restrain herself and her emotions. But when Zuko needs comfort the most - she provides it for him by attesting that despite all the things she doesn’t care for - she cares for him. She becomes emotionally vulnerable in front of Azula to comfort Zuko amidst his difficult times. And yes, In this example on The Beach - Zuko is shown to be comforted and cared for her by her words.

Zuko [Close-up.] Because I'm confused. Because I'm not sure I know the difference between right and wrong anymore.

Azula You're pathetic.

Mai [View from behind Zuko.] I know one thing I care about. [Walks up to Zuko. Frontal view.] I care about you. [They kiss.]

Look at what Azula says right before. Mai knows that Zuko suffered constant and endless harassment and abuse from his sister and father. From the creators themselves:

“She’s known Zuko her whole life. She knows his life has been intense” - Bryan and Mike, The Beach Commentary

Yet shes the only one from his old life, other than Iroh, that shows unwavering and unconditional support to him. Like @thethiefandtheairbender said, “Mai gives Zuko a reason to love the home that spurned him.”

So back to the Nightmares and Daydreams episode. Mai’s immediate thought is to cheer Zuko up with something that gave him comfort five minutes before.

When that doesn’t work, we see Mai’s unemotional facade break down. She knows that this is something he has to figure out on his own. Her face shows pure empathy, that he must be going through something very troubling. But she doesn’t force him to stay with her. She gives him space to come to terms with his own emotions. She doesn’t stick by him or force him to cheer up after she sees her methods DIDNT work. She doesn’t get frustrated. She feels empathy for him.

And then antis claim that Mai bringing up the whole war meeting was a way to make light of Zuko’s trauma or that she didn’t want him to ruin their happy mood. Yet they conveniently forget that Mai waited outside for the entire duration of the war meeting for Zuko - and immediately asks him how it went - ensuring that things didn’t transpire the way it did at the last war meeting. For them, it’s impossible to see that what Mai said was a matter of true concern for Zuko’s safety. But her actions prove otherwise.

Zuko chooses to spend the night at Mai’s house. He finds comfort in her company. He’s no stranger to shutting down or shutting people out when he’s experiencing emotional angst or turmoil. He’s done it countless times to Iroh in Ba Sing Se. Instead of being anxious by himself, he chooses to stay with Mai. Because she provides him comfort - no matter how small. And he celebrates the small victories with her too. He turns to Mai immediately when he hears the news that he’s invited to the meeting. They both share a smile - and Mai once again proves the unconditional support she has for the boy who has been constantly spurned by the people that should love him.

And to provide an even more salient counter argument to “Mai shutting down Zuko when he’s trying to explain his “life story to her” - Mai listens to Zuko unwaveringly while he explains how during the meeting, he was the perfect fire nation prince but he wasn’t himself. She doesn’t cut him off out of boredom. She doesn’t shut down his emotions or tells him to feel a way he shouldn’t. After the Beach episode, she learns to listen to him - proving her character development. She’s engaged, she’s listening. She is once again - supporting Zuko throughout his emotional turmoil.

I will never understand the argument that Zuko’s relationship with Mai represents a regression because he wasn’t being himself when he was in the fire nation. Let’s get a couple of things straight. Zuko had to return to the fire nation to truly confirm for himself that he was making the right decision. But the fire nation will always be Zuko’s home. That is why he is coronated as the fire lord at the end. Throughout season 3, Mai experiences Zuko’s good, bad, and ugly. He never once put up a facade around her. She experienced everything - the emotional turmoil, the parts where he pretended to be the perfect prince, the part where he truly loved spending time with her. And not once did she stop loving him - the only thing she did was hold him accountable when he was acting like an ass. Mai was there for Zuko when no one else from his old life was. And if their relationship was a regression - then why did the creators have Mai stand up against Azula and everything she knew her whole life - for Zuko and his mission? That argument would make sense if there was no episode called The Boiling Rock. But rather, the creators did a brilliant job showing Mai and Zuko loving each other BEFORE his redemption and AFTER his redemption. That Love isn’t conditional based on someone’s morality or redeemable actions. That people who have experienced trauma and turbulent upbringings deserve to love and be loved at the end of the day.

MIC DROP!

[k7l4d4]

I Dislike the Miraculous AU: Scarlet Lady. Here’s Why.

As it says on the tin, I strongly, VERY STRONGLY dislike Scarlet Lady. Among other things, the creator’s reasoning as to why Chloe “cannot be redeemed,” makes me want to gag. The singular action that Zoe-oneesama uses as the basis for this decision is based without any regard for the context of the situation; Chloe derailing a train. 

Now, to start off, I am not saying that Chloe was right to do that, it was a horrible, MORONIC thing to do, and she should be held accountable for it, but disregarding the circumstances as to WHY she did it is something I cannot stand. During that episode when she did that, her mother, a woman so vile and arrogant that she either cannot be bothered to remember Chloe’s name or is deliberately getting it wrong to mock and belittle her, publicly, and loudly, for all the world to hear, on LIVE TV belittled and humiliated her daughter and essentially called her worthless in every way other than who she had the luck to be related to. Considering that all of this heavily implies that Chloe is deeply emotionally damaged and socially stunted, her doing something stupid in a rabid bid for her mother’s approval, something not uncommon for people dealing with emotional neglect and abuse and absentee parents as I’ve been told, is something to be expected, not some Moral Event Horizon that says she can and always will be a bad guy who can never do good for any reason.

If Chloe had decided to do that “just because,” that would be a different story, but it isn’t. And considering that there have been, and are, comic book heroes who were once villains who did far worse things, saying that it makes Chloe, a teenage girl who by all accounts has no concept of consequences and is deeply damaged besides, somehow incapable of redemption or being a hero is stupid in the extreme.

Now, I’m going to tackle some of the most common arguments I’ve heard to defend the comic, starting with the take that Chloe is replacing Ladybug and therefore never got a chance to look up to her or have a reason to want to change for the better. First off, just because Chloe doesn’t have Ladybug to act as a role-model, doesn’t mean she’d be incapable of change, or that she would just keep getting worse and worse as a person. Chloe has depths to her that extend beyond just being a bratty mean girl, and her getting the attention she craves isn’t going to magically erase those things. Would having people praise her name and call her a hero give her a swelled head? Yes, yes it would. But, at worst, it would make her egotistical (well, MORE egotistical) it wouldn’t make her entitled to it anymore than she already was, and her ego is fragile as hell, so having people around to constantly pop her bubble (Chat Noir and Tikki) would wear her down and keep her from getting worse, nor is she forward thinking enough to try and deliberately cause Akumatizations.

Chloe, as hard as it may be to believe, genuinely cares about Sabrina and Ms. Bustier, who are essentially the only two people in existence who give a damn about her for real, so things getting worse between Sabrina and Chloe makes no sense. Sabrina is an active and very willing participant in Chloe’s schemes and does her homework of her own volition, and the fact that she genuinely cares about Chloe is a very real truth. Is Sabrina desperate for friends and companionship? Yes, yes she is. She’s also loyal to the point of fanaticism and understands Chloe on a level that literally NOBODY else in the world does. A wedge being driven between her and Chloe doesn’t work because Chloe typically treats Sabrina very well, considering the warped and unhealthy nature of their dynamic and mutual enabling of each other’s problems.

Adrien being attracted to Marinette and splitting away from Chloe ALSO makes no sense. First off, there has never, NOT EVEN ONCE, in the entire series been any kind of hint that Adrien is in anyway attracted to Marinette in any capacity. Would he like her as a friend and enjoy her company? Yes, yes he would! But he also has an actual best friend who he spends the lion’s share of his time with, when he has free time at all: Nino. By all accounts, Adrien’s type of girl is someone a lot more dynamic than Marinette is, if his obsessive crush on Ladybug in canon and brief, self-sabotaged relationship with Kagami are anything to go buy, so he would have no reason to see Marinette in a romantic light, especially as she still can’t spit it out. Him parting ways from Chloe makes no sense because he cares about her; by all logical rights, there should be no reason for him to split off from Chloe because, in public at least, she’s not even remotely acting different from her canon self, and he’s barely bothered by that. If anything, him being aggravated by Scar’s antics means he should be taking a bigger role in Chloe’s life and trying to get through to her, NOT just splitting off from her because “reasons.”

And then there’s Lila. I will be honest, I am a fan of Redemptions. A good one makes me feel warm inside and stokes my faith in humanity and sapient life in general. Lila’s “redemption” in Scarlet Lady PISSES ME OFF. Why, you may ask? Because it Woobie-fies her. I have no problem with Woobies. They serve their place in works of fiction and series. But Woobiefying a character like Lila PISSES ME OFF. Lila’s only claim to being sympathetic is a brief scene in a singular episode that has her sad after a call from her mom; that is it, nothing more. Lila is, by all accounts, a high-functioning sociopath; she doesn’t give a damn who she hurts or who ends up threatened by her actions, and if someone causes her trouble, she will try and DESTROY THEM. 

Scarlet Lady making it so that Marinette, who is the physical embodiment of everything Lila finds pitiable and pathetic about people, is somehow able to “get through to her” makes no fucking sense. Lila shouldn’t be listening to Marinette; she should be pretending to listen to her so she can exploit the girl’s kindness and build up a power-base. Lila was perfectly willing to KILL Marinette and Ladybug in canon over something comparatively petty, and gleefully worked with a psychotic terrorist in the hopes of causing trouble and ruining lives. Scar dumping her in a pond should drive her to HOMICIDAL RAGE above all else, and be working even HARDER to kill and/or ruin Scarlet than she tried to in canon, because THAT is the type of person Lila is.

I have more, but if I keep talking about this fic, I think I’ll have an apoplexy. All in all... I hate the fic. I hate it a LOT. It basically involves reducing Chloe into the shallowest possible interpretation of herself, and acting as if making her into some kind of ultimate Hate Sink is something impressive fundamentally rubs me the wrong way. But that’s my own issues above all else. If anyone has any thoughts or opinions on this, feel free to share them. I’m willing to listen, even if I may not agree.

[obsessive-bear-walking]

I was talking to @hussyknee and she suggested I post this.

At every turn I am reminded that white people, especially cis white women feel absolutely entitled to keeping marginalized people as pets and accessories, as tools to be used to raise them up while they stand on our backs and pierce our skin with their heels. Or even strictly as a fetish with no real human value or soul. I know I'm saying this as a white person, and I know there's probably of better way to say it but I've never been good with words and I am talking about white women(and some afabs in general) here and I wont beat around the bush.

I have rarely met a white woman of any other demographic who gave a shit about me, my community, or our struggles. I was always her fun gay friend or cute little build-a-boy she could dress up. (I have a negative physical response to being called "cute" and that's mostly because of white women.) It was always about them, and how I was her ticket to other gay men and the attention and how she could feel holier than thou for being so kind to a nasty little faggot like me who society loathes so much while getting a front row seat to my gay life so she could, I don't know, get her rocks off or something. If that meant half heartedly supporting gay rights, then sure that's fine I guess, but you know she's really here for the pet fag. (and most don't even do that beyond performative I LOVE THE GAYS)

I can't even trust a majority of white queer women, personally. I know that's so incredibly taboo to say these days. I've had countless mspec and even lesbian white women treat me like accessories and pets and feeling absolute entitlement to my time and even my body. I'm constantly thwarting advances from mspec women and wlw who will not accept no because I'm a trans man and they're into that, so therefore they're entitled to my vagina.

(But if I say that, even on my own time when m to f rape isn't even being discussed, I'm erasing man on woman rape and silencing female victims being a misogynist. Funny how that all works out.)

That's without even getting into the women who go to gay bars then have the nerve to get mad when the gay men don't give them enough attention, or worse, get pissy/disgusted when a woman hits on them?

It so frequently becomes a narrative about how "Oh, women feel safer with queer men! You're just misogynist/over reacting." I could go on. Yeah okay, but I don't mean Emily whatsHerFace who just goes to a gay bar with her friends and minds herself and get drunk. I mean the majority who want to keep me and my fellow queer men as pets while never wanting to think about the fact that wlw exist.

When it comes to them, what about me, my life, and other queer men's psychological well being and safety? What about us, who are being used as toys and exploited to make these white ladies look good and moral and get attention and book deals for all they've done to help these lowly queers?

What about queer amabs who were exploited by the fucking Aids Angel and their families? When will white women truly be held accountable for their abhorrent behavior without being able to scream that they're oppressed too? This is such normal entitlement for them, she's not special, just a little bold. When will they be knocked down a few pegs?

Those men watched their loved ones suffer and die around them while they too withered away and she fucking banked on that, like so many other white women I've come across in my brief twenty-five years of life, over fifteen of those have been as a queer man.

She directly paraded one of them around to sell the story of his dead partner! She inserted herself into their lives and forced herself into some savior with lies and bullshit all for the renown and fucking money. Her own fucking woke points or whatever, and that is so disgustingly normal for too many white women.

It's like when these white women insist on adopting a kid in each fucking "color" and throwing them around on social media begging for attention because they adopted some poor brown orphan. Or who want a pet east Asian boyfriend because they listen to Kpop or watch anime or just in general. I am looking directly at the Asain Boyfriend Tags of the mid-2000s. (Which, I'm aware straight abled South Korean Men aren't marginalized in SK, but it's the same principle. Different, not really human, free grabs as a pet.) They're the same with disabled people, it's all the same shit.

Not in severity, because you can't even begin to compare that. But in the entitlement. The pure, unfiltered entitlement and privilege that makes them believe that they're entitled to all of this. Entitled to be furniture in our lives, helping us only when it suits them and makes them look good or when they can play with us like dolls, or get their rocks off to us without giving a shit about us as humans.

Then they cry misogyny and hate again the moment anyone says a damn thing against them. Using crocodile tears to avoid being held accountable for anything. I know six year olds who can take responsibility better, honestly pathetic. Toxic femininity at it's finest.

Anyone affected by white afab folks making them fetishes or trinkets can add to this or if you're wlw and have been excluded by fag hags, I wont gatekeep too much but if you're just going to try to argue about points to silence us like "but POC and gay men can be toxic too!" or try to argue that I just hate women, this isn't the post for you. Because 1. That's not relevant 2. Because I'm fucking tired of kneeling to white women. I'm tired of being fucking stepped on and my humanity torn away because they looked me and decided I was up for grabs and I'm tired of seeing them do that to others. I'm Disabled, I'm Queer, and no you can't keep me as a damn pet or wear me like a fucking dog in a purse.

[utilitycaster]

Wizard Breakdown Tracker, Episode 140

Welcome to the penultimate Wizard Breakdown Tracker: Four Resurrections and an Ass-Kicking.

When I first started this, I declared my intent was to do this until the comeuppance of Trent Ikithon. That may not happen, so, while I may revive it for hypothetical future one-shots centered specifically around the comeuppance of Trent Ikithon, this tracker will otherwise unsurprisingly end with the campaign next week, with the final statuses of all or at least most of these wizards. Also, for some advance notice, it will almost certainly be delayed until Sunday night.

But this week we are still primarily focusing on the wizard NPC of the Nein. Is he, technically speaking, counted among the Mighty Nein such that any breakdowns induced in him by the Mighty Nein have a self-inflicted component? Yes. Is this unique to Essek's situation, by any means? No.

As a reminder Caleb Widogast is a PC and therefore not included.

Currently sidelined: Ludinus Da'leth, Trent Ikithon, Astrid Beck, the Wulf of Wall Street, Pumat Sol, Oremid Hass, Allura Vyesoren, Yussa Errenis.

Lady Vess Derogna: there is a very high likelihood this may be my primary sendoff for her. So: to Vess. We hardly knew you, which is a little disappointing in that I love watching evil women who are committed in their indifference to anything but their goals, and I would personally watch a campaign that was literally just slowly dismantling the Cerberus Assembly provided there was also some combat and romance on the side, but Lucien is, indeed, the worst.

As the red eyes on her body have disappeared, it's gonna be a little awkward for the Nein to explain that no, she actually was a doomsday cultist to an entity they have since killed. [sidebar: my guess is the Magic Eye Book got swallowed by the city as well, which in unfortunate because I would have like to have watched the Dynasty see THAT particular sailboat. It's no "dunamancy existed and still worked fine, even better, for those who wanted to kill the gods", but it's still in Undercommon and I still expect it will put them in a very uncomfortable place.]

I do wonder what her afterlife has been like. The neutral evil outer planes do not seem like a great time, but honestly if I were her I'd probably be lying on the ground in Gehenna right now, looking up into the ash-strewn sky like "you know...I could have done better than Lucien, that fucking hack." Or perhaps "well, at least for me it was quick, and, blood from the eyes aside, at least I did not die a horrifying monstrosity."

Conclusion: 0/10. I haven't been tracking her breakdown otherwise, because, well, she's dead, but I have to imagine she's feeling some sense of vindication that Lucien is also dead and actually, her highly unethical modifications to him were still an upgrade by most standards. She's had three weeks to come to terms with her fate. Also I imagine any magical afterlife for the evil as completely lacking in such amenities as the catharsis of a breakdown.

Essek Thelyss: speaking of the catharsis of a breakdown!

If I may get serious, and I may because I have never actually cared for getting the readers' permission in my entire life and sure won't start now, what struck me about Essek is that there are many things that were implied he did not get much of - friendship, peace, an escape from the rigid confines of his society, people asking him about soup - but in many ways he has lived an immensely privileged life. Talented, powerful, free from want. Except he wanted more, because that's how people are.

I'm sure next week, and in the few following, amid whatever breaks and one-offs occur, (with some premature examinators writing them right now, even), there will be plenty of meta explaining what the Mighty Nein were really about, man. I will even probably definitely make some of them. And even as I make fun of those who are performing vivisections and calling them post mortems, it's not terribly hard to guess what we'll find. Redemption. Found Family Wait No But It's Different This Time. The complicated subtleties of morality across disparate cultures. Who You Are In The Dark. An extended metaphor of the underappreciated nature of utility casters.

But while all of those have truth to them, the story of the Mighty Nein, to me, is seven people-eight, now- being forced to answer one question: What if you actually got what you wanted, for once? What then?

More than anything, what Essek wanted was answers. He still wants them, though his priorities are shifting. He's gotten some answers already. He does not see himself as deserving. He might not, for many years. Perhaps ever.

And so when the people he does see as deserving want something - a relatively small thing, in the grand scheme, to want - and they are unable to get it, that is what breaks him.

Conclusion: let the poor man have a good cry in peace. fucking voyeurs.

Halas Lutagran: Oh? oh is it a long time to be trapped? Is it? Did the Mighty Nein free some souls from the time of the Calamity that had been trapped? for over a millennium? huh. interesting. I just think it's funny how they just did that? freed the souls of the mages? who had been trapped? for a long time?

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

you’re someone i just want around: I

“And I can't wait another minute

I can't take the look she's giving

Your body rocking, keep me up all night

One in a million, my lucky strike.”

— Lucky Strike, Maroon 5

A/N: this idea started as just random concept drabbling between leyla @sunflowervolvimp3​ and i and we never really thought it would amount to anything tbh!! but as we started putting more and more into the plot and characters, we made the spontaneous decision to make it a full on, multi-chaptered collab fic! we have so many ideas planned and so much to elaborate on and we’re just so mfing excited to share it with you guys :’) any and all feedback is greatly appreciated 💌 we hope you enjoy the first part and that you fall in love with this stupid emotionally unavailable moron the way we did! happy reading!!

andrea’s askbox : leyla’s askbox : ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : 

word count: 17.2k

content/warnings: vampire!harry being a lowkey asshole while downing straight tequila like a psycho, getting to know The Crew, Mitch being the iconic legend he is, mentions of smut, and Harry working his immortal charm on an unsuspecting human girl with a peculiar scent and intriguing personality

///

Harry hates clubs. 

In his two hundred years of life, through many trials and tribulations, through tricky scenarios and annoying encounters, through thousands of unappealing circumstances and patience-testing events, he doesn’t think anything quite compares to the crowded, nerve-wracking experience that is a Los Angeles club on a Friday night during peak hours. 

According to his wise, humble opinion, it’s absolutely fucking petrifiying. He’d rather swallow a stake than have to spend hours in a dimly lit room with synthetic smoke choking his lungs, half-conscious humans stumbling around into him, and the stench of sweaty bodies mixed with liquor fumes, alongside the faint yet unmistakable waft of vomit.��

Yeah, Harry would definitely rather eat a red oak spear than have to shoulder that.

Despite his intense hatred for this Californian city during its after-hours, he can’t deny that he fits right into the scene perfectly. Decades of grooming and practice have made him a prime candidate for the fast-paced characteristics that come with the party nightlife. 

Fitting into these aspects aren’t something he had learned willingly; he didn’t really have a choice on the matter, considering his entire existence depends on mortals immature tendencies to get properly shit-faced and make stupid decisions in tightly-packed glorified bars. Harry never understood that— how a fog machine, strobe lights, and an undergrad amateur DJ could ever seem more appealing than the quiet, stable ambiance of a semi-formal bar. How deranged do people have to be to actually enjoy strangers spilling alcohol on them while attempting to shag someone else two feet away on the dance floor? 

Whenever he dwells too much on that thought, he gets a spiking migraine. After this long, Harry’s just come to terms with the fact that humans are regressing as a species. His conclusion is a bit cynical, perhaps, but hardly difficult to accept. One look at a news outlet provides enough proof to launch an Ivy League research project on the matter. 

He really shouldn’t be complaining, however, because the combination of overflowed close quarters and dampened inhibitions makes it the ideal hunting ground. Picking up a living blood bag at a club is basically as easy as walking through a vineyard and plucking grapes right off the stems. It’s practical, it’s fool-proof, and if he plays his cards right, he gets to feed and gets his more intimate needs tailored (a combo that he and his friends refer to as Laid and Drained).  

So regardless of his distaste towards clubs and their eager inhabitants, Harry had learned to mold his persona to fit the bill, making himself as approachable and desirable as possible. His life literally hangs in the balance; he’d put up with throngs of drunk sorority girls and their affinity for shitty perfumed drinks if it means avoiding desiccation. 

It’s not like it’s hard. All Harry has to do is make himself look more appealing than the other hundred men milling around the establishment, which— if he’s being brutally honest— isn’t that challenging. The moral, physical, and ethical standards of men have dropped frighteningly low since his time. Most of the ones that creep around clubs are overconfident, overzealous, boundary-lacking douchebags who think they’re entitled to a woman’s attention, and therefore make complete, utter fools of themselves in the process of trying to court one into their pants. Buying a girl one Sex On The Beach and dry-humping to Daft Punk isn’t the way to convince her to come home with you. 

Harry has developed his own guidelines and tactics for securing a nightly bedroom companion, and his ideas have been working wonders for him for decades now. 

The first and foremost rule is to clean up nicely. Personal appearance is everything. Humans are visual creatures; they build first impressions solely based on outward attraction. That trait is enhanced the higher their blood alcohol content rises. The drunker someone gets, the shallower they become, and it’s Harry’s job to work that to his advantage. And at the risk of sounding shallow himself, he thinks he does pretty alright in that department. 

Especially tonight, present in all the elements of his physique. He’s clad in a pair of high-waisted tan trousers that have been ironed to a crisp, his fitted graphic tee tucked neatly along his waistband beneath his black leather belt. His t-shirt is probably his favorite part of the entire look. It’s a baby blue sturdy cotton number with pastel yellow detailing along the cuffs and collar and a giant cartoon puppy in a striped bowtie taking up its center, smiling cheekily at the onlooker. Arranged around the doodle in faded Times New Roman bubble letters are the words WE’RE IN THE SHIT. 

Harry loves the irony of the article— the innocence of the drawing juxtaposed by the crude message. The piece is a conversation-starter— people almost always comment on it— and that’s exactly what he needs. Something to draw attention to himself and shadow all the other men. Something that shows he has a personality; that he has taste and a good sense of humor and isn’t just another walking genital. Plus, what person doesn’t enjoy a funny little contradiction, especially when it’s this cute?

On top of his graphic top, he’s wearing a tartan cropped blazer (open, of course) with a creme background and royal blue lines. The hem ends at the bottom of his ribs, exactly where his pants begin, and the jacket's hand-sewn buttons and strap detailings show that it's an expensive garment. It shows that he puts money and effort into how he looks, which is something anyone would appreciate when scoping for a possible hookup.

Harry’s shoes are the most casual factor of his fit. They’re a pair of light yellow Vans that match the collar of his tee. They’re plain, but he keeps them clean and they tie the whole look together without a hitch.

Accessories are everything, as well. Aside from the pearls arranged around his prominent collarbones, the gold-dipped cross hanging from a delicate chain around his neck, and the matching dangling cross earring on his right earlobe (again, he adores irony), he’s sporting a plethora of chunky rings on his hands, each unique and effortlessly complimenting his appearance. On his left hand, his index finger dots a ruby jewel embedded into a thick rusted band, another large metal one with dancing bears on his middle, and two clunky golden letters on his last two digits— his initials, HS. On his opposite hand, he has a medium-width plated ring on his middle finger with peace engraved along its rounded edge, an elegant lionhead number with an amethyst stone snug in its mouth, and along his pinky is a decently-sized opal set into a delicate polished frame. 

His two last rings are the most important of all. The lionhead is his daylight ring, which he hasn’t taken off since he transitioned. It keeps him from bursting into flames everytime the sun hits his skin. The opal was his mother’s, and it was her favorite. 

Harry’s attire is something he’s immensely proud of, even though a good amount of people deem him eccentric in the eyes of modern masculinity. He couldn’t give less of a shit. With his lightly tanned skin, alluring cologne and lacquered nails, his shirt stretching across the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, his broad shoulders and tapering waist, his thick thighs, sharp jaw, jade eyes, loosely tousled chestnut curls, and the vast array of dark ink littering his arms...

He looks good and he knows it. And all the people whose gazes glue to him as he passes by know it, too. Especially a random group of young women in line, who ogle at him shamelessly as he casually strolls past. He treats them to a sly wink, an irresistible dimpled smile, and a soft, cheeky greeting of, “Ladies.”

He gets off on the way they swoon at his refined English accent, giggling and waving. 

The only other component Harry has for succeeding in the club environment is simple, but it’s important: Don’t seduce, romanticize. 

Anyone— even inebriated idiots— can try and seduce a woman. And if she’s had enough tequila shots to cloud her thoughts, they just might succeed. But only a real man can romanticize a girl, and it yields way better results. 

Females are an emotional sect (Harry says that with zero misogyny; it’s just a scientific fact and he actually praises it), which means that if you entertain their interests and fluff their egos, they are bound to fall right into the palm of your hand. It changes the game completely because then they don’t feel that they have to pleasure you, they want to. They pursue the guy who flirts without being too vulgar, who appreciates and acknowledges their efforts, and who can go head-to-head with their wit by carrying unforced banter. They chase after him because he’s showing genuine kindness rather than just sexual interests and if he’s that attentive on the getting-to-know-you front, one can only imagine how skilled he could be in other bases. Chatting up a girl the right way, with patience and courtesy, builds credibility and prowess. And as a thank you, they’re usually more than willing to pay special attention to your needs, as well. 

Thus, romanticizing is always the expert move. So, yes, Harry detests clubs and the disaster that is adult recreation. But he’s fucking amazing at playing it to his favor. He’s great at calculating everything down to the smallest detail and he’s going to piggy-back on those skills for the rest of eternity. He’s so good at what he hates that his closest friends have anointed him the title of Walking Paradox. He’s more than happy to keep it. 

All of these thoughts are circulating around his skull, hyping him up for the game ahead as Harry and his friend group walk up to the bouncer at the entrance of the club they had chosen for the night, faint stars twinkling in the dark sky as the sounds and lights of the city fall away into background static. 

They cruise by the long line of people, hearing sounds of disagreement and grumbling coming from the other patrons waiting to get in. Harry casually tucks his large hands into the pockets of his light brown slacks as he pulls up in front of the burly bald man, who is wearing a black shirt with the club’s name printed in neon letters. The security guard is at least five inches taller than him, overswollen biceps and pectoral muscles rippling under the flimsy material of his work outfit as he crosses his arms over his barreled chest, cocking a single thick eyebrow at the seemingly young vampire. 

Harry delivers a good-natured smile up at the employee, despite the man’s obvious begrudging disbelief at what he is about to try and do. His friends chat quietly behind him, uninterested in what is happening; after years of being acquainted, they know that Harry is going to get exactly what he wants. He always does. 

He’s the best of them, that much is obvious. Not only when it comes to his experience with persuading sexual partners and getting himself a decent dinner, but he’s the best at convincing just about anyone to do anything, neutral of gender. He’s the second oldest of the crew, yet he seems to have the most knowledge and practice under his belt; his easygoing charisma, undeniable good looks, and dazzling smile could sway even the most stubborn of souls. Frankly, he’s so successful in getting his way that no one cares to try and argue for the leader position. Not when they can just sit back and let Harry do all the work. 

“Good evening.” Harry’s deep voice chimes giddily in the direction of the bouncer, his accent particularly heavy for no real reason. “How you doing tonight, mate?”

The guard— whose name tag reads Brock and Harry has to actively stop himself from snorting at how fitting the name is for such a brick of a human— looks down at him with a stony expression, voice flat. “I’m good.”

“Well, that’s great to hear!” The curly-haired boy’s simper widens, dimples popping into place as he skates into his next question with dramatic friendliness. “Haven’t had anyone cause you any trouble tonight, have you?”

Brock blinks once, attitude remaining coldly indifferent even in the face of Harry’s cheeriness. His words, however, are snipped and pointed. “Not yet.”

“I’m guessing you’d like to keep it that way.” The young man comments sympathetically, nodding his head along with the worker. “Totally understandable.” 

“Good.” The employee remarks in the same detached tone, shifting on his feet, obviously growing uncomfortable and irritated with the conversation. “So I’m guessing that means you know you have to get in line.” 

Harry glances over his shoulder at the lengthy expanse of people gathered along the side of the building, a light wind filtering through his freshly-shampooed ringlets as he studies the way the bright sign on top of the club casts alternating rainbow colors across the crowd. 

He makes a disapproving sound by sucking at his teeth, lulling his sight back onto the guard. “I don’t know, man. At this rate, I feel like by the time we get to the front of the line, it’ll be last call.”

“Maybe.” Brock shrugs offhandedly. “It is what it is, right? Fair’s fair.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Harry returns his gesture, but his posture shows no intention of moving, the corners of his rose lip set in a knowing smirk. “But since you’ve been having a good night, do you think you could find it in yourself to just let us through? We’d greatly appreciate it.” 

The bouncer’s face hardens, any shred of professional amiability washing out of his defined features. “I don’t think so.” 

The vampire’s shoulders sag in exaggerated disappointment. “Are you sure? It’s just five of us. Don’t think we’ll do much damage. Right, guys?”

Harry glimpses over his back to his friends, who let their conversation falter for a moment to throw out a chorus of half-assed agreements, trying to keep themselves from snickering. 

“We promise we won’t cause any problems.” Xander speaks up, jutting his chin encouragingly at the man as his lips twitch slyly. He lifts one of his hands, the smallest finger sticking out stiffly and wiggling around. “Pinky swear.” 

The rest of the group bursts into a round of light laughter, causing Harry to release a few airy giggles of his own.  

Xander looks over at Niall, raising his eyebrows and quipping in an innocent manner. “Right, Ni? No funny business tonight. That means no climbing onto the bar again and stripping down to your socks.” 

“That happened one time!” Niall exclaims incredulously, socking the taller boy in the shoulder as the others laugh harder than before, his blue eyes narrowed and face pinched. “Once! And it was only ‘cause Harry challenged me to a tequila shot contest.”

The Irish vampire’s accented voice drops darkly as he reminisces. “Fuckin’ hate tequila. Makes me act like a moron.” 

“As if you’re not one already.” Mitch pipes up in his usual soft dialect, chuckling as he ducks away from Niall’s vengeful fist. 

Harry cranes back to face Brock, thumb playing with his daylight ring as his hands stay relaxed inside his trousers. He shrugs one shoulder easily for emphasis. “See? You can let us through. We pinky swore.” 

The entire charade seems to have only infuriated the security guard more than before, his brows now fully furrowed and a deep, unamused frown etched across his previously pursed lips. His voice is on edge with barely controlled anger. “I’m not putting up with any shit. If you want in, go to the back of the line. If not, leave.”

Harry sighs grandly in defeat, head shaking slightly. “Guess I’ll just have to go the other route, then.”

The creature takes a step forward towards the employee, close enough that their chests almost press together. The bulky man stands his ground, though there’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes at seeing the smaller boy make such a bold move. 

“What the f—?”

Harry locks gazes with Brock, pupils dilating to twice their size, the usual emerald shade of his irises flickering a haunting red and looking sinister in the buttery light of the street lamps. Horror breaks across the worker’s face, the ability to form coherent sentences disappearing from his demeanor. Harry’s heightened senses can hear the way his heartbeat spikes, blood instinctively rushing into his chest as a response to the adrenaline materializing in his veins. The activation of human’s fight-or-flight modes is always so oddly pleasurable. Just feeling how they react so drastically makes Harry’s fangs tingle with longing. Fear is a good condiment, he’s learned; it gives blood’s usual metallic flavor a certain twang.

But at the moment, a beverage from this specific tap isn’t the one Harry has in mind. He has his interests set on something much tangier and full-bodied; maybe Casamigos golden tequila, or Don Julio's Blanco. Preferably mixed with a young office secretary or a Bath and Body Works employee instead of lemon and salt. 

All in all, Brock is just collateral for a much bigger prize, which lies behind the roped off area he holds dominion over. It’s Harry’s job to break that dam. 

Before the large man can fully react, the vampire begins working his compulsion strategy, tone coming out level and soothing, thick with persuasion and teetering along a sleepy undercurrent. “You’re going to let us through, and you’re going to forget we ever met.”

The guard’s pupils enlarge to match Harry’s, the look of utter terror on his face melting right off. His features go slack as the monster’s magical influence works its way through his brain, coating every neuron and bending him to the deliverer’s will. The man reaches over and removes the velvet rope blocking the group’s path, stepping off to the side obediently with an empty expression present across his appearance. 

The leader of the group smiles just as brightly as he had the second he’d walked up to the door. He passes by the worker, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder and feeling the muscular man strain under his supernatural strength. “Thank you very much. You have a nice night, Brock.” 

Harry’s friends follow behind him, echoing his parting message and sharing a collective chortle.  

The second the group dives past the frame of the club entrance, the whole ambiance of the atmosphere changes. Harry walks across the top ledge of the establishment, coming to a halt at the railing that overlooks the main level of the club, his inhumanly sharp eyes bouncing around all the corners of the building to construct some type of familiar layout in his head. Amidst the blinking lights, thick artificial smoke, and swaying bodies, his keen instincts sketch a mental image for tonight’s hunting ground. 

The bar is at the far left corner of the club, squared off and taking up a large chunk of the colorful tiled dance floor. The music station extends across the entire wall at the opposite end of the tavern, stocked with massive speakers and a professional turntable. Harry’s brows jump in mild surprise— it’s not every day that a club puts so much effort into their mixer. 

The animated dancing area is packed with people, the crowd all jumping and grinding to the beat of the bass, moving as one large mass while the rotating strobe lights hang from the cavernous ceiling, bathing their moving silhouettes in neon reds, drunken blues, groggy purples, and electric yellows. The dim surroundings and heavy fog make all the hues more intense, giving the endless party that timeless quality which people tend to enjoy about nightlife. It’s the night to remember effect that movies and shows always hyperbolize; he thinks this way because he’s well aware that not even a third of these people are sober enough to know what the fuck they’re doing, let alone recall it the following day. It’s comically ironic, really. 

But Harry profits off that liquor amnesia, so he brushes away his sardonic skepticism for the time being, settling his lean forearms onto the metal railing that lines the second story of the venue, which is meant to keep shit-faced customers from creating a messy lawsuit. He carefully absorbs the grandeur of it all, leaning his weight forward with a detached sigh, already flickering through the mental menu of his favorite drinks that he has expertly memorized. 

He’s in the process of choosing between a Manhattan— it isn’t a very complicated drink, which is exactly what he’s looking for; something simple and strong— or just straight tequila in a glass when he suddenly feels a familiar presence arrange itself beside him, bumping his shoulder playfully with their own.

Harry snaps out of his recipe retrieval, eyes casting to the side to land on his best friend of almost a century. He cocks an eyebrow expectantly, waiting for the thin, bearded man to make the first move towards conversation.

“You’re a real dick, y’know that?” 

The green-eyed vampire sputters into spontaneous laughter, the edges of his eyes crinkling as the small pits in his cheeks jolt awake. His tone is humorous and full of fake insult for the hell of the joke. “Wow, alright. So I get us into the club that you chose and that makes me a prick? Good to know. You can handle the muscle next time, then, if you’re gonna talk shit.”

Mitch cracks a gentle jesting grin, which is very on brand for him. He doesn’t seem like much, with his skinny, lanky frame, delicate features, shoulder-length hair, and somewhat scraggly stubble. He’s quiet, reserved, and hardly engages with anyone outside of their immediate group. He’s always been that way for as long as Harry could remember. 

When they had met back in 1924 at a speakeasy in New York, Mitch had given off a mysterious vibe that Harry had found amusing and intriguing. His slightly sickly appearance and distant persona made the younger vampire want to get to know him better; it was just so peculiar that this seemingly impassive man was working at an illegal bar as a live musician. One would think that a performer would have to display an engaging character to keep a loyal audience, but Mitch had been all the talk of the underground despite his unemotional coolness. It was startlingly unorthodox and Harry just had to know more. 

Therefore, with a bit of help from his convincing supernatural abilities, he’d secured a spot as the black market club’s leading vocalist. He wasn’t anything worth a Grammy, but he could keep his singing in tune and follow Mitch’s guitar rhythms easily enough, all thanks to his limited experience with piano. He fit right in. 

From the first show they had put on together, it was like they had known one another in a different lifetime. They clicked so flawlessly it was almost fictional. 

Harry was lively and charming on stage, working the crowd to his favor as easily as he could knock back a shot, wrapping every single patron around his jeweled pinky without breaking a sweat. His witty temperament countered Mitch’s timid disposition perfectly and that uncommon dynamic had been the foundation to their friendship. Their humorous shenanigans on stage (which included Harry pinching at Mitch’s ass and making vague vulgar motions at each other while harmonizing) was a hit within the drunken community, and it bled into their personal lives. They went from only interacting on stage to sharing drinks together afterwards, to hanging out outside of work, to deep late night conversations about the world and their experiences.

Soon enough, they were closer than either had expected to become. And once they found out each other’s true identities (Mitch had transitioned during the American Revolution, when a vampire in his battalion had given him blood to heal from a wound, unaware that the next day, Mitch would suffer a fatal gunshot to the stomach that would trigger his transformation) they grew inseparable. They had remained that way ever since. 

Despite his friend’s withdrawn tendencies, the older vampire never hesitates to make his opinions heard, obvious in how he’d just full-bodied Harry with that snarky comment. Even when it’s at his expense, Harry appreciates and respects the rawness of it. He loves the way Mitch is honest and straight-forward with everything that crosses his path— it’s one of his favorite traits about him and definitely one of the characteristics that had led Harry to deem him his best friend. He’s probably the most fulfilling person Harry has ever met and their friendship brings him a type of comfort that he doesn’t receive from anyone else.

Vampires can be so detached and cold not only towards humans, but towards one another, and it gets old at times. It’s unsettling not having someone to truly confide in, and Harry is grateful that Mitch had been so willing to fill that position.   

Due to this, Harry rarely takes genuine offense in Mitch’s digs. They’re normally expressed as a joke and they’ve both been alive for so long that thick skin is a default.

“How was I dick?” Harry inquires, slinking his head to the side with entertained curiosity. “If anything, he was the one being an asshole. I asked him to let us in nicely and he practically spit in my face!”

Mitch snorts in amusement, shaking his head lightly as his eyes streak across the humongous room in the same cunning manner Harry’s had. “You and Xander didn’t have to mock him that way.” 

That’s another thing that makes Mitch the better half of their power duo— he still has a decent shred of humanity in his unbeating heart. Pessimistic conclusions aside, Harry does have a bit, as well...but his is more like a paper-thin pencil shaving than a shred. Barely there, but there, at least. 

The young man returns his companion’s snort, rolling his eyes up to the hanging lights over their heads. “Was just some harmless teasing. Nothing bad came of it.”

Mitch scowls scoldingly. “It was unnecessary and mean.”

Harry mimics his expression with his nose scrunched sarcastically. “We were just taking the piss, and it’s not like he’s gonna remember it anyways. Stop being such a kill-joy.” 

“Stop being such an arrogant little shit.” 

“Or what?” Harry tilts his chin up challengingly, the amber specks around his pupils glinting tauntingly, faint black veins momentarily webbing across the whites of his eyes. He sweetens his voice into a honeyed drawl. “Are you gonna spank me, daddy? Have I been a bad boy?” 

Mitch belts out a feathery chuckle, shoving his friend with enough strength to send a regular human flying across the deck. But since the taller vampire matches his force, he hardly moves an inch. “Fuck off.” 

“I’m being serious!” Harry cackles, turning his hips and sticking out his ass towards his visibly disgusted acquaintance. “Go fucking in, if you want.”

He lowers his voice into a sultry hum, wagging his backside jestingly. “I like it rough, baby. Why don’t you bend me over this railing and show me who’s boss?”

It’s Mitch’s turn to roll his eyes to the ceiling, voice deadpan. “I think I’ll pass.” 

Harry juts his lower lip into a theatrical pout, sniffling faux tears. “You’re rejecting me that quick? Who’s the asshole now, huh?”

His best friend doesn’t even blink. “Still you.”

“I can live with that. And it’s probably a good call on your end to give up all this,” he signals vaguely up and down his tight torso with a ringed hand, grinning as he watches the veteran vampire pretend to gag, “because I don’t think Sarah wouldn’t be too happy about it.” 

Mitch’s humorous face immediately drops, eyes narrowing at the change in topic. “Very funny.” 

“I know, right? I’m a proper comedian.” Harry quips proudly, batting his lashes mockingly. “Where is Sarah, anyways? Have you heard from her lately?” 

Sarah and Mitch...They’re a complex couple, if they can even be called a couple. The two are more like occasional friends with benefits, “occasional” meaning “once every couple of months, if Sarah happens to be passing by.” 

Their relationship is open and very loose, mostly due to the fact that Sarah is fairly new to the world of blood-driven immortality and has decided to take full advantage of it. She’s been using compulsion to travel the world for the last three years since she changed, which had been the result of an unfortunate car accident. 

Mitch had been seeing her casually beforehand, keeping her around for the purpose of having a conventional feeding arrangement. Every time vampires feed, they heal the wounds they inflict with a bit of their blood, proceeding to then wipe the person’s memory with compulsion in order to eradicate any chances of getting caught. The caveat is that if a human dies with vampire blood in their system, they become one. 

Sarah’s death happened the day after she’d spent a night with Mitch, and one can imagine how distressed she had been when she'd awoken atop a metal table in a morgue within the basement of a hospital. Mitch had been there from the very first second she’d opened her eyes to her new life. Or rather, her dead life. He had helped her get accustomed to the next stage (meaning having to cut family ties in order to avoid a catastrophe— the less people that know the truth about the supernatural, the better) coaxing her through transition and teaching her the way to go about the rest of eternity without putting herself and others in danger. 

Vampires rarely have any compassion for life (usually out of spite, which stems from how their own lives were taken from them), so it’s not uncommon that bodies are found drained of blood in back alleys, abandoned warehouses, and washed up on banks of oceans and rivers. It could be either of two reasons, or even both: the monster doesn’t care about the consequences of their actions, or they never learned to control their urges. 

Harry’s crew isn't that careless. Through Mitch, they had learned restraint, taking up his practice of feeding enough to satisfy themselves without killing the host, healing them, and then erasing the occurrence from their memories. Mitch had come up with the tactic to cling to his humanity— to be as kind and nondestructive as possible— but if Harry’s being honest, most of their friends only play along because it’s convenient. No bodies means no police involvement, and no police involvement means being able to settle down in one place for an extended period, not having to stress about the annoying process of bouncing around the world for the rest of their lives to avoid detection. 

Keeping low was for the best, and when things get rough— whether it be a mistake on their part or a disastrous bender caused by another vampire passing through— they resort to drinking from blood bags until things tide over. Mitch has a contact at the nearest hospital, which is how he gets access to the stock, as well as how he managed to clean up Sarah’s passing so quickly. 

All in all, Harry had only mentioned Sarah to tease his friend, knowing the slight sensitivity that comes with the subject. Vampires rarely form emotional bonds, typically because it can get really messy, really fast, whether that connection be to a mortal or to another creature of their species. All of them have baggage of some sort— you can’t die, resurrect, be forced to abandon your family, and be a slave to drinking blood for the rest of eternity and just...be normal. That type of extreme emotional turmoil is corrosive towards love. It’s always better to just avoid it all together. 

That’s why this is so habitual to joke about; it’s a way to deflect. 

Mitch sighs grandly, Harry’s question echoing in his skull. “I don’t know where she is, to be honest. Last we talked was, like, four weeks ago, I think. She was in Japan, said she was drumming for a new upcoming band. Haven’t heard from her since.”

Harry nods his head once in understanding, itching to steer the theme of their conversation elsewhere now that he knows the topic is in a more sensitive state than he’d imagined. He doesn’t want to push Mitch into a depressive episode when they’re supposed to be having a good time. Spending the night consoling his sulky friend in the bathroom of a club is the last thing he wants right now. 

“I guess that makes Sarah the asshole, then.” He pokes jokingly, bumping the older vampire’s hip with his own. “She’s ghosting you. Get it? It’s funny ‘cause she’s actually dead.” 

Mitch’s sad expression shatters like glass, replaced by one of unamused secondhand embarrassment at the shitty pun. “I fucking hate you.”

“All the people who were ahead of their time were hated.” Harry sing-songs, turning up his nose haughtily. “Copernicus, Socrates, Einstein— all of them were hated for being geniuses. I’m willing to carry that same burden.” 

Mitch blinks at him three times. “No one hated Einstein.”

The curly-haired boy’s lips twitch darkly. “I’m pretty sure Japan did.” 

“You’re going to hell.” 

“I’m already there, mate.” 

Mitch shakes his head, but even through the black lights, Harry can see him trying to ward off a laugh. After a moment’s pause, he speaks up again softly. “It’s not that hard to refrain from humiliating innocent people who are just doing their job, H.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re still on that?” The broad monster groans in exasperation, palms slapping down on the metal rungs below him. “We were just having some fun! But fine. If it helps you fake sleep at night, I’ll try and keep my condescending flare to a minimum.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Mitch responds peacefully, tapping his nimble fingers casually along the railing, his action much less violent than his companion’s. “S’not too difficult.” 

“Whatever.” Harry scoffs, returning his intent gaze to the dance floor, scoping out the scene once again in hopes of finding a proper meal for the night. 

He zones in on a group of young women gathered along one side of the bar, their messy giggling and lack of balance giving away that they’re obviously sloshed off their faces. Seems promising enough. 

When he talks once more, his tone holds an attitude that plays on a grumble, but it’s somewhat distracted. “The least you could do is let me have some fun, considering I didn’t even want to come.” 

Mitch huffs, making an entertained noise in the back of his throat. “You say that every single time we go out, and yet you always end up taking someone home. Don’t know why you’re complaining.” 

Harry side-eyes him from his peripheral vision, the corners of his pretty cherry mouth dipping down grudgingly, mood defensive. “You drag me to these things so I’m not going to apologize for making the best of it. I put a lot of effort into my pick-ups! I deserve to get my dick wet.” 

“God, please don’t say that again.” His best mate physically makes a vomiting sound. “You’re acting like a spoiled fraternity douche.” 

Harry’s gaze ignites into flames, his back straightening out as he fully turns to face the shorter man. He’s never been insulted so low before. “Take that back!” 

“Take that back!” Mitch mocks in an exaggerated, high-pitched British accent, attempting to stifle giggles. 

“Take it back! You know how much I hate Gen Z.”

“Okay, boomer.” 

“You’re older than I am!” 

“I know. Your lack of maturity is a constant reminder.”

Harry opens his mouth, prepared to make a sharp comeback about how Mitch should have left the shaggy-haired stoner aesthetic back in the eighties, but then a heavy Irish accent interrupts his rebuttal. 

“What’s all this about getting your dick wet?” 

Both of the vampires turn towards Niall, finding Xander and Adam accompanying him in a loose semi-circle. 

Xander isn’t paying any attention, too busy tapping away at the screen of his smartphone, apparently engaged in a very riveting conversation with whoever is on the other side. Adam has his hands tucked into the pockets of his plum purple wind-breaker, looking over Harry’s shoulder, seeming to be adamantly searching for someone in particular amidst the mob on the level beneath them. Niall is the only one interested in their dying conversation, probably only because he heard something crude being mentioned. 

“It’s nothing.” Harry dismisses, but he can’t help but stick Mitch with a glare. “What’s the plan for tonight, then?”

Adam speaks up for the first time. “Charlotte and Ny texted saying they got here about ten minutes ago. Mentioned they were dancing near the DJ station, so I think I’ll go find them.”

“Sounds good.” Harry bobs his head in accordance. “We’ll see you out there, yeah?” 

Adam returns his action, turning on his heel and heading for the stairs that lead to the bottom floor. The leader of the group watches him trot onto the large spiral staircase, disappearing into the thick throng of people scattered across its wide steps. 

Harry shifts his attention to Xander, snapping his fingers a few times in his direction and giving a two-toned whistle. “What about you? What’s got your head?”

“Not what, who.” Niall teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and making kissy faces at their friend. 

Xander ignores him, glancing up at the green-eyed brunette to let him know he’ll be with him in a second, returning his focus back to his iPhone. After a few more elongated moments of typing, the older man finally locks his device. 

“I have a date.” He throws out casually, almost as if it should be obvious. 

“A date?” Harry reiterates slowly, not quite buying it. Xander doesn’t date. He couch-surfs just as much as Harry does. 

“Mmhm.” Xander glimpses behind his fellow vampire, eyes carrying intention. “It’s just a random dude from Tinder. I thought it’d be easier to set something up beforehand, just so I don’t have to spend the whole night trying to figure out if a guy is making eyes at me or trying to keep his whiskey down.” 

“Smart.” Harry shrugs his sculpted brows, impressed. A cocky grin toys with the corners of his mouth. “But we both know no one will ever compare to me.” 

“Right.” Xander scoffs in a deadpan manner, gifting him a tight, aggravated smile. “If only you weren’t such an emotionally unavailable prick.” 

“Oh, like you’re mentally stable enough for a relationship?” Harry bites back, but it holds no true malice, just some petty rivalry. “Piss off.”

“Happily!” The other vampire exclaims, clasping his hands together for dramatics. “Have fun finding someone out there. I’m just gonna grab a to-go box for my already prepped meal.” 

Harry doesn’t bother watching him leave. Instead, he turns to Niall, pointing at him to symbolize it's his turn to share his plans for the night. “What have you got, Lucky Charms?” 

His friend breaks into a jolly cackle at the nickname, arms falling crossed over his chest, hands absentmindedly squeezing his elbows in thought. “Well, I dunno, Tea and Crumpets. What’s your game plan?” 

Before Harry can answer, Mitch butts in, feeling left out of the banter and somewhat hurt that no one had assigned him an alter ego. “What’s my country-derived nickname?” 

Niall gives the American a slow once-over, shifting in his dark brown Clarks boots, fitted navy slack riding up his thighs and allowing his rainbow polka-dot socks to peek out. He hums lowly in the back of his throat, a grin spreading across his rosy cheeks. “Biscuits and Gravy.” 

Harry chimes in, his own arms casually folding over his strong chest, index finger tapping on his bottom lip as if mulling something over. “I quite like We The People, actually.”

The Irish lad snaps his fingers as if having a sudden epiphany. “Uncle Sam!”

Harry’s emerald eyes twinkle with glee at seeing the way Mitch’s go half-lidded, no longer entertained. “Four Score And Seven Years Ago.” 

“Okay, I think that’s enou—”

Niall wags a finger at Harry, lifting one shoulder in question, seeking approval on his next idea. “Star Spangled Banner?”

Harry copies the boy’s motion from before, snapping his fingers and making jazz hands. “I Pledge Allegiance.”  

“Ok, I get it!” Mitch whines with annoyed finality, pushing off the metal railing with a curt grimace on his scraggly face. 

“You asked!” Niall rationalizes between hiccups of evilly delighted joy, cupping his stomach as if to keep it from splitting open. 

“Won’t make that mistake again.” The older creature grumbles, leaning his back against the rungs and looking off towards the distance, communicating that he’s done being a part of the conversation. 

Once Harry manages to reign in his giggles, he rubs at his nose with the side of his finger, releasing a wistful sigh. He refers to the question Niall had stated before their little bullying fest. “I think I’m just gonna do what I always do— sway a nice, pretty girl into doing some not-so-nice but very pretty things.” 

“Solid.” The Irish bloke remarks, toying with the plastic buttons on his silk beige top. “Not much to do other than that, to be fair. Adam’s usually my wingman, but I guess he abandoned me for a girl’s night.” 

“Mitch is mine, and he knows better than to dip on me.” Harry roughly nudges his best friend with his elbow, dodging to the side when Mitch tries to hit him in return. 

Niall hums softly in amusement. “Maybe I should make Adam sign whatever contract you drafted for that poor bugger.” 

The curly brunette snorts. “Good luck. Adam’s as stubborn as they come. But, hey, if you can’t find anyone, just come to me.” Harry’s irises flit crimson for a millisecond, an ominous smirk buckling his features. “You know I’m always happy to share.” 

“Thanks,” his friend exhales flatly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“If you’re taking tips,” Mitch pipes up, vaguely signaling at Niall’s shirt with his chin, “maybe don’t wear that stupid shirt next time. The elephant doodles look ridiculous.”

“It’s a good thing I’m not taking fashion tips from anyone who actually enjoyed living in Ohio, then.” Niall snaps in an exaggerated American accent, middle finger jutting towards the other man. “The only thing you know how to dress is a cornfield scarecrow. Must be why you look like one.” 

Harry forces down more laughter, clearing his throat softly. “You’ll be fine. Just don’t get hammered— girls hate that.” 

“Note taken.” The pale boy runs his fingers through his hair, fixing it up and adding texture to appear more laid-back and rugged. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Later.” The younger vampire recites, giving a big thumbs-up. 

“Good luck out there. You, too, Boston Tea Party.” 

With that, Niall saunters away, leaving a fully laughing Harry and a grouchy Mitch in his wake. 

The two acquaintances decide to follow in everyone else’s example, descending down the looped staircase and chatting about Mitch’s latest gig at a new bar downtown. 

Harry praises Mitch's talent with his guitar, specifically the fact that he found a hobby which he enjoys so much that he’s willing to keep it as a permanent part of his life. It’s easy to get bored of things when you have hundreds of years ahead of you; everything can seem pointless, in the end. But Harry doesn’t think Mitch has ever let himself fall into those types of dark headspaces and he finds that extremely admirable. 

Harry wishes he could say the same. He’s no musical prodigy, that much is obvious, but he is an expert at playing a few specific French songs on the piano by memory. He rarely does it, though; only when he’s in a low state of mind, which— given the origin of how he learned said classical pieces— isn’t something he’s proud of. They’re tied to a very gruesome part of his past that he’d rather bury deep inside, but he can only push back his troubles for so long before they begin to leak out, staining the clean sheet of recovery he had sewn into place. Those arrangements just bring him a warped sense of comfort he can’t explain.

Even though he’s aware of the destructive aspects of the songs, he finds himself humming one now out of instinct as he elbows through squished bodies and flailing limbs. The second he notices he’s doing it, he cuts it off, focusing all his intention on making it to the other side of the room to the bar. It’s a hard trip when it feels like the walls of the building are closing in on him. 

When Harry finally breaks free from the Human Centipede re-enactment that is the club dance floor, he practically collapses onto the sleek glass counter. Death was less painful than that walk. 

He cranes his neck to the side wildly, suddenly remembering that his much smaller, much skinnier, much more crushable friend had been in tow behind him. To his utter shock, he watches as Mitch calmly weeds around grinding drunk couples with the poise and grace of a swan, filling the empty spot besides him without a single ailment in the world. 

Harry blinks at him blankly in silence, almost as if he’d grown an extra set of fangs. 

Mitch flags the bartender from all the way down the counter, not bothering to meet the green eyes peering at him in disbelief. “You’re so fucking dramatic, H.”

“How did you not die? Again?” Harry sputters, sight jutting all around the older vampire’s body, looking for any battle wounds or missing appendages. “I almost lost an arm in there!”

“It’s a good thing it wasn’t your favorite one, right?” Mitch smirks at his own lewd joke, the simper molding into one of genuine kindness when the mixologist slides up in front of them. “Hi, how are you? I’m good, as well, thank you for asking! Yeah, I’ve got something in mind. Don’t worry, I’m not one of the ‘just make me something sweet’ type of assholes.”

Harry zones out the rest of the friendly chat Mitch entertains with the employee, letting his gaze wander around the large auditorium-like room. He dances his vision over the DJ remixing music on top of the stage, head beginning to bop along to the beat that is currently shaking the seven foot tall speakers. He’s pleasantly surprised at how good this specific producer is. 

He continues scoping out the rest of the venue, taking notes of the different clusters of people that seem to hold promise for the plans he has in store later tonight. A small group of hippie friends here, a two-party duo of tipsy stoners there, and a clump of college students at the edge of the ruckus, stumbling around loudly. Things are looking somewhat decent, in his opinion. The hippies seem to be catching his attention more than the others— specifically, the one that looks similar to Stevie Nicks. That’s a fantasy that’s been waiting to be fulfill for decades now. 

Harry lulls his head forward again when he feels Mitch give a squeeze at his elbow, telling him that the bartender is waiting to take his order. He decides to go for the gold tequila, asking for it straight in a highball glass without any garnishes. The worker’s eyebrows jump up slightly at the unorthodox request, but he drops a polite, “Coming right up.” either way.

“You truly have no flavor.” Mitch tuts once their waiter has stepped away to prepare their drinks. “No taste buds whatsoever.” 

“Yeah? Well, you can suck my flavorless dick.” Harry chimes brightly, eyes crinkling shut as a result of a theatrical smile. 

The younger vampire goes to turn back around, legitimately interested in the girl he’d seen that looked like one of his seventies celebrity crushes, already running through scenarios in his head on how he’d get her into his bed for tonight. Weed and ABBA are probably good conversation starters for that, if Harry’s undisputed people skills have anything to say about it. 

As he’s rotating his torso, a blurred image catches his eyes. He does a double-take, honing in on a group of girls that look faintly familiar. He scans them carefully as they huddle around the corner of the bar area, laughing and toasting along to the multiple conversations they all have going at once. They look like the typical posse that would be a backdrop clique in a mainstream movie. 

He knows where he recognizes them from— it had been the same girls he’d spotted earlier up on the second deck.

Harry expertly surveillances each woman, picking out potential candidates as easily as he’d pinch petals off a flower. The one in the center of the group is obviously the leader, present in how she’s the prettiest and is somehow managing to juggle all of these interactions at once. It means she’s used to being the center of attention— probably strives under it. He throws her out as a potential; the last thing he needs is someone who everyone knows and seeks out. He wouldn’t be able to sneak away with her quietly. 

The rest of the girl crew all seem to be the same status-wise, appearing as supporting characters to the main one in the middle. He could choose any one of them blindly and it wouldn’t make a difference. They all seem so tight-knit, they probably share personalities, at this point. It’s like dipping his hand into a jar of jelly beans and they’re all the same flavor. That notion makes him laugh to himself a bit; maybe Mitch was right about his lack of taste. 

Then, Harry spots her, and all the other women immediately go up in smoke. 

It’s hard not to spot her. She sticks out like a sore thumb, but not in a good way. 

The prospective contender is off to the side, sitting atop a barstool with her feet tucked along the footrest, tapping them against the metal rung awkwardly. She’s talking to one of the other people in the group, but the interaction seems forced and not very satisfying, obvious in both of their faces. She’s tracing her middle finger around the edge of her glass cup distractedly, the contents inside barely touched, the ice in her drink long-melted. She seems disinterested in the chaos her friends are causing, her expression bored and borderline regretful, as if she doesn’t want to be here. 

The further he sizes the girl up, the more appropriate she looks for the role he needs filled. Since barely anyone is paying attention to her, that means he can lead her astray without too much resistance from her acquaintances, if any at all. She appears somewhat unimportant to the narrative— merely a background extra— and it makes him wonder what she’s doing with this clique of women that can’t seem to be bothered by her presence. It’s sad, really. Sad, but beneficial, because that means he can succeed in making her the supporting protagonist of his narrative, at least for tonight. 

The girl is attractive, but not anything astronomical. She’s unconventionally pretty in a way that makes her relevant, but not particularly distinct in the eyes of regular men with presumptuous standards. She’s easy to pass up, and if Harry hadn’t been actively pursuing someone of her bashful persona to card into his plans, he wouldn’t have noticed her. At the risk of once again sounding shallow, Harry’s aware that— physically speaking— he’s very much out of her league. His above-average appearance gives off the vibe that he’d fit better with the leader of the group instead of with her, but he doesn’t want someone that would raise suspicions as a result of their absence. This girl, sitting along the edge of the party with barely any purpose and no one to really question her whereabouts, is exactly what he’s looking for. She’s perfectly imperfect for the cause. 

Harry continues to examine her meticulously, analyzing other traits that can give him a better feel for her character. She’s clad in a pair of high-waisted pastel pink silk pants that stop right at her ankles, accompanied by a flouncy creme lace blouse tucked into her waist. Tan wedges, no accessories, delicate rosey nail polish, and minimalist makeup. The boldest thing about her is the brick red shade of her lipstick, which is easily shadowed by the sparkly sequin dresses, five inch heels, and layered tops her friends are wearing. 

Harry likes her outfit, though. It’s concise and safe, which he can appreciate. Yes, perhaps she looks like she belongs in a dentist’s office rather than a Los Angeles nightclub, but he thinks there’s beauty in simplicity. She looks cute, and that’s good enough for him. 

“She seems interesting.” Mitch’s soft voice snaps him out of his detail-hungry haze, drawing him back into the reality that is the black lighting of the club and the deep booming of the music’s bass. 

His friend slides his tall drink across the glass counter, the amber liquid inside warping his reflection. 

“I suppose so.” Harry answers passively, shrugging one shoulder in indifference while accepting the cup, ringed fingers clinking against the crystalline surface. 

He takes a leisurely sip from the straight tequila, its tangy kick sending a warm surge up through his ears and down his throat, spreading into his chest and along the trench of his tummy. Alcohol really is the cure to everything. 

Mitch gives him a deadpan look, the strobe lights alternating across the glossy surface of his hazel irises, highlighting smugness. “You’ve been gawking for five minutes. Put your pride back in your pants and go talk to her.” 

The curly-haired vampire flashes him a light smirk over the rim of his drink, absentmindedly tapping his two initial rings along the bottom of the highball cup. “Ever so blunt, aren’t you?”

Mitch scuffs, taking a swig from his trusty beer bottle. Out of everything, that’s the one aspect Harry despises about his best mate— that he goes to a club and orders the same drink every time. Where was the fun in that? Where was the excitement of trying something new? When you have an eternity, the least you could do is utilize it to your advantage. Cycling through every cocktail in human history is a prime example of making the best out of immortality.  

But Mitch is a creature of habit— as are most of their kind— and Harry knows he won’t shake easily. Not when it comes to surrendering his preferred beverage, and definitely not when it comes to sticking his nose in Harry’s intimate business. Meddling and being irritating are what best friends are for. 

“What can I say? Pep talks are my forte.” The older monster remarks sarcastically, bumping his bottle against Harry’s glass in encouragement, using the spout of his container to point in the general direction of the mysterious girl. “Now go make dinner.”

“But, darlinggggg,” Harry whines playfully, a smirk still tugging at the corners of his slightly liquor-swollen lips. “I made dinner last night. Isn’t it your turn?”

Mitch rolls his eyes and shoves Harry’s shoulder harshly, with just enough force that it actually has some type of impact this time around. “Just go, before she gets creeped out by your staring.” 

Harry’s own irises copy his friend’s actions as he pushes himself up from the bar, rubbing at the new sore spot on his shoulder with an exaggerated pout present. “Ow.”

Mitch blinks at him flatly, fighting off a grin. “You’ve had worse. Go.”

Harry swivels on his heel, once again facing the group of tipsy girls at the other end of the counter. It appears that most of them have dispersed into the dance floor, having found partners to entertain them for the time being, moving to the music as if there are no other people in the room. They had left behind three of their companions, one of which is Harry’s aspiring hookup; he gets the feeling that the two girls had stayed behind out of the kindness of their hearts, feeling too guilty to leave the runt of the litter all on her own. He hopes that’s the case because if so, the second Harry inserts himself into the situation, they’ll take that chance and split, leaving him to tend his meal in peace.

He tucks one large hand into the front pocket of his trousers, the grip on his glass tightening a smidge, rings biting into his skin as the condensation of the chilled tequila cools the small spike of pain. He spins his lionhead ring around his finger within his slacks, gradually drifting closer as he goes through a checklist of prized pick-up lines he could use to garner her attention. He ducks and dodges inebriated club-goers with ease now that he’s had something to take the edge off, finally reaching the end of the bar, slowly coming to a halt right behind his target for the night. 

Harry nearly passes out as soon as her scent hits him. 

It’s faint and tender and nothing quite like anything he’s encountered before, a mixture of honey and lavender that permeates through her normal perfume. He feels like his head’s been put through a wringer, his whole body clenching for a moment as raging sparks erupt across the pit of his belly. He indulges a deep breath, willing the blazing current away in order to keep his cool, but all he can see flashing before his eyes are images of her leaving traces of that smell smeared all over his face as he bobs his head between her quivering thighs.

He takes another penetrating inhale, centering his mind back into the present. He needs to behave.

Her friends spot him immediately, their side of the conversation faltering to ash. They give Harry a wide-eyed once-over, mouths parting in slight shock as they drink up his attractive appearance, gazes lingering along his thick chest as it strains the baby blue material of his tee. Their sights drag across his broad shoulders, dainty collarbones, and strong neck, faces gawking without remorse, blinking emptily at the slope of his sharp jaw and the peaks of his prominent cheekbones. They seem to be at a loss for words the second his dimples indent into place, his brows shrugging in a half-assed greeting before he cocks his head to side a tad, voice velvet as it directs towards the girl they had forgotten existed.  

“I’m guessing you’re the designated driver?”

Y/N jumps slightly in response at the new addition to the painfully dying conversation, not recognizing the heavy English accent and deep baritone that booms behind her. She had been wondering why Melissa and Isabel had stopped talking so abruptly, and she now has her answer. 

Y/N slowly goes to cast a curious glance over her shoulder and Harry can hear the pulse flaring in her neck from the sudden intrusion to her surroundings. His fangs prick along the inside of his bottom lip due to carnal instincts; he has to will them back into receding. 

 When her eyes land on the owner of the random words, her finger immediately halts its swirling motions along the hem of her glass.

‘Fuck.’ is the only thought that registers through her short-circuiting mind. 

The lanky, curly-haired brunette that stands before her gives a gentle yet confident smile, the gesture dazzling even in the low lighting of the atmosphere. He’s absolutely gorgeous, with deep pits carving into his cheeks, perfect teeth complimenting full cherry red lips, eyes the color of a rainforest canopy, and a broad frame that is somehow not overwhelming. He’s sporting neatly ironed tan slacks, a fitted cotton shirt with a cute yet crude graphic at its center, a fancy plaid coat, and crisp yellow Vans without a single smudge in sight.

Y/N can’t help but take notice of all the little details of his fit, especially the accessories. A beautiful pearl necklace laid along his delicate clavicle, a cross resting between his defined pectorals, and a matching earring dangling from his earlobe. Not to mention the array of clunky rings arranged along nimble fingers, hugging a tall glass carrying caramel liquor and somehow managing to dwarf the cup’s size. The extra decoration is sensual in such an unexpectedly delicious manner. 

The hand he has tucked in his pants ducks out to comb through his dark auburn ringlets and Y/N can feel her mouth water at the new round of elegant rings. The action activates the cologne Harry had thoughtfully spritz in specific pressure points along his body, the scent of tobacco and vanilla traveling through the fog-heavy air and causing Y/N’s stomach to summersault. 

The young man is as close to flawless as anyone could ever come. 

Y/N feels an unmistakable sharp pain shoot through her ankle, and she comes to the realization that it had been the tip of one of her friend’s heels. The reality check jars her out of the embarrassing daze he’d spelled onto her, open mouth snapping shut and her lashes fluttering over her previously unblinking eyes. 

“Oh! Uhm—uh—” She clumsily twists sideways to fully face him, swallowing thickly and tasting the remnants of the alcohol she’d barely been nursing. “N-No. I’m not— well, I don’t think…? We Ubered here so that wouldn’t make any sense ‘cause I have no car to drive...so...” 

The boy chuckles softly at her choppy monologue, his laughter warm and inviting, similar to the look reflecting off his shiney irises, the golden flecks around his pupils seeming to swell and shrink from the rainbow lights cascading across them. Despite being caught off guard and utterly embarrassed, she can’t seem to break eye contact with him. The longer she gazes into his eyes, the more relaxed she begins to feel, a fuzzy heat stemming from the center of her belly and spreading up her neck and ears. 

Y/N gulps heavily like before, willing her tongue to produce a less embarrassing comment. “Sorry. Let me...Let me start over…Hi.”

“Hello.” He quips back playfully, lopsided grin widening in fond amusement. He lifts his drink up a bit in greeting. “M’Harry.”

“Y/N.” The girl squeaks out, copying his gesture because it’s easier than forcing her disoriented brain to try and come up with its own. 

Harry flirts his intent up and down Y/N’s body slowly, checking her out without any subtlety. He wants her to know he’s interested. 

When his sight locks with hers again, he bats his lashes sultrily and pours as much passion as he can into his tone, accent weighing in just right. “S’nice to meet you, Y/N.”

Her entire face prickles at how her name sounds dripping from those faultless raspberry lips. She’d pay anything to hear him say it again. “You, too.” 

This is not what Y/N intended. This is most definitely not what she’d intended to happen when she’d reluctantly agreed to go out with some coworkers on a Friday night, giving in simply because she had promised herself she’d be more social within her new job. 

She had moved to California roughly two months ago, wanting to get away from her old life in the small, boring town she hated to call home. Buying the flight had been a drastic decision made when she had been under the influence of something she’d rather not admit, but the following day— after she had sobered up from a wicked hangover— she found herself not wanting to cancel the trip. Found herself craving the excitement and adventure of beginning anew somewhere far away from everything she had ever known. 

All of Y/N’s friends back home had supported her without hesitation, egging her preposterous idea and congratulating her on “getting the fuck out of here.” Her family had been a little less supportive, but after a few heartfelt chats about following your ambitions and a budgeting lesson from her cousin, they had gingerly gotten on board. They understood that keeping her trapped in that lame town where nothing really happened wasn’t the way to ensure her success in life. Therefore, the people closest to her had swallowed their opinions and respected her choice to dive off the deep end, in search of something better beyond the borders of their tiny city. 

Within a week, Y/N had secured a decent job at a semi-popular cafe, courtesy of a connection from a family friend. Within two weeks, after many sleepless nights full of Rocky Road ice cream and the bright white pages of ApartmentFinder.com, she had managed to book a nice flat close to her place of work. It was a miracle, if she’d ever seen one. Especially within the crowded, expensive community that is Los Angeles. Within three weeks, she had been walking out of the giant glass building that was LAX with only two suitcases in tow, boarding an Uber to her new life. 

Things had never seemed more picturesque, she’d thought. Everything was falling into place in a way that seemed almost blessed by the universe.

Then, the culture shock hit. 

California was different. It’s was so fucking different than anything she’d ever faced and she wasn’t prepared for the social difficulties she’d have to hurdle. All her life, Y/N had grown up with the same people around her, spending every school year with them up until graduation, expanding her friend group as time passed. Even after high school, she’d remained closely connected with most of her graduating class. The region she lived in was tiny, tight-knit and friendly; it was hard not to. She couldn’t even go to the store for groceries without bumping into at least three people from her Algebra II class. 

Point being, it had been ages since Y/N had been put in a situation where she actively had to try and make friends. She’d been through that challenge way back in kindergarten and had never been hit with it again. 

Until it smacked her across the head here in LA.

Y/N didn’t mesh well with Californians, she quickly found out. They were all about crazy parties and club-hopping, whereas Y/N had been raised on community cookouts and mass sleepovers. They enjoyed getting cross-faded and streaking down the beach at two in the morning, meanwhile Y/N liked stripping down to her undies and spending the night binging Queer Eye while stuffing her face with Cheeze-Its and Snickers bars. They freely boasted about their sex adventures while bussing down tables at the restaurant, while Y/N’s intimate life had been nonexistent since the move. 

It was just...startling, to put it lightly. It wasn’t what she had expected at all, and that’s mostly her fault for not doing the correct amount of research before jumping headfirst into a cliche LifeTime film. 

Therefore, Y/N had made a pact with herself one month in, swearing to let loose and allow her surroundings to sweep her into a new dynamic— into a new, social butterfly version of herself. She’d started accepting the invitations from her coworkers to go out at night, and she’d started putting more effort into being open to wild experiences, no matter how scary they might seem. Shutting down and refusing to mold to her environment would only result in her having to return home with her tail between her legs, and she’d rather jump naked off a pier than see her parents’ faces wracked with pity. 

And that’s exactly what she’d done a couple nights ago, at the encouragement of the group of girls she was at the club with now. It had, in turn, ended in her coming down with a mild cold, but at least now she’d be able to tell her friends back home a cool story about dropping inhibitions. 

Dropping inhibitions is also why Y/N’s here tonight, dressed in the most party-like outfit she could put together, prodding an overly-boozy drink into her system, attempting to release some of the tension that had been building in her head for the last couple of weeks since she’d left her old life behind. That’s why she’s here, with strands of her blow-dried hair catching on the dark red gloss Melissa has slathered on her mouth in a thick layer. That’s why she’s here, with synthetic smoke scratching at her lungs and drunken men and women bumping into her every two minutes, most of them too busy sticking their tongues down each other’s throats to realize they’d almost toppled her off her seat. That’s why she’s here, with a blasé expression plastered across her features as her coworkers talk over her head without a second thought, her mind far away from the walls of this overhyped horror house. 

Y/N had been thinking about how she’d just started her Disney+ membership, finding comfort in putting together a mental checklist of all the movies she’s going to plow through the second she sets foot past the doorframe of her apartment. Indulging on her childhood was an ideal form of escapism, in her opinion. She’s positive Walt Disney would agree. 

That’s what her brain had been lost in when Harry’s deep, melodic voice had interrupted her daydreams, sending her spiraling into an embarrassing performance of nerve-induced hysteria. 

Now here she is, blinking back at him dumbly, eyes the smallest bit damp from the smoke machine and neon flashes of light. And here he is, smirking at her over the rim of his glass, eyes raking down her wired up body suggestively as he takes a calm sip from what appears to be the straight tequila in his colossal, bejeweled hand. 

The English boy takes a gradual step closer to her, wanting to make sure he’s not crossing any boundaries that would make her uncomfortable. The scent of his cologne intensifies and she feels a fiery heat suddenly pour between her clasped thighs. It just hits her how long it’s truly been since she’s gotten laid and fuck, it’s sad.

Harry begrudgingly peels his attention away from Y/N for a second, aiming his words towards the girls standing behind her with their mouths still opened stupidly. Even from a respectful distance, his warm breath still washes across her jaw and cheek, causing electricity to zip down her spine. “You don’t mind if I steal her for a bit, do you?”

‘Yeah,’ Y/N thinks in the back of her muddled skull, ‘that’s definitely tequila.’

Isabel and Melissa slowly shake their heads in unison, glancing at each other as if to confirm he’d just spoken to them. 

The edges of Harry’s lips jolt into a kind, easygoing smile. “Thank you. Promise I’ll keep her safe.” 

Y/N feels her heart hiccup at his statement. If she’s not insanely mistaken, it appears to have carried an undertone of dirty intentions. God, she’s praying she’s not mistaken. 

The two girls clamber away on their tall pumps, rounding around Harry and pausing for a moment. They make moaning faces and vulgar motions behind him, encouraging Y/N to pursue the stranger. She then watches them disappear into the throng of crowded bodies, leaving her alone with the beautiful boy and her heart slamming against her ribs. 

Y/N focuses back onto Harry, licking her itching lips lightly, not knowing what to say next as he settles himself beside her. He rests his forearm on the counter along with his drink, tucking his other hand back into  his trouser pocket and fixing himself into a comfortable standing position, crossing his ankles nonchalantly. The friction between his jacket and the bar rides his sleeve up an inch or so, and Y/N gets a view of the anchor tattoo he has along his wrist, as well as the upside-down cross inked between his thumb and index finger. 

Harry catches her looking, mouth twitching with a smidge of arrogant self-assurance. He loves when girls drool over his tats. 

“I have more.” He remarks lightly, a pang of condescending pleasure shooting through his chest at the way she jerks and pins her gaze down to the floor. 

Blood rushes into her cheeks at the realization that she’s been caught and Harry’s teeth grind. It’s so hot watching her fidget for him. Maybe he finds her more attractive than he’d originally let on. “Would you like to see them?”

Y/N timidly coaxes herself into locking stares with him once again, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, barely nodding with a soft, “Sure.” 

She looks so pretty like that, he notices, staring up at him all doe-eyed and shy. It’d probably look even better if she were on her knees.

Yeah, he definitely likes her more than he’d thought. 

Harry proceeds to shift about, shrugging his coat off his strong shoulders, letting it slip down his lean arms and reveal the plethora of dark tattoos strewn across his left arm. Y/N watches avidly, drinking up every flex of his biceps under the black paint and every twitch of his pecs beneath his cotton shirt, the tendons along his throat going taut for just a moment. That moment is enough for her to etch the image into the back of her eyelids for the rest of her life. 

Harry tosses the article onto the table, extending his arm over its surface for her to get a better reading. She doesn’t miss the chance, her pupils tracing over every line and stroke of the pen, over every shaded area and meticulous detail. 

His voice comes out as a low, garbled murmur, his own irises studying her features with just as much intensity. “You can touch them, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

After a moment of hesitation, the brim of her crystalline cup is replaced by the ridges of his smooth, tanned skin. She drags her digits over the naked mermaid, tracing the curve of her figure and the dip of her tail, then passing onto the stem of the large rose, ghosting over every thorn and prickle. Harry can feel her heartbeat through her fingertips and it’s making him throb. 

“They’re very pretty.” Y/N whispers, allowing her touch to fall away, palm finding refuge across the counter. “Did they hurt?” 

“A bit, yeah. But I’ve gotten so many done that I think I grew numb to the needle after a while.” Harry answers, shrugging one shoulder to show it’s no big deal. He grasps his glass once again and takes a drawn-out swig, extending the action just so she can see the way his Adam’s Apple bobs as he swallows. Once the cup is back in its place, his tongue peeks out and swipes any leftover liquid from his rosy lips, which then settle into a coy simper. “Plus, I kinda like the pain.” 

Y/N’s breathing stutters in her lungs and she swiftly swerves the topic onto something much less explicit. “So why’d you ask if I was the designated driver? That’s kind of an odd question. Very out of the blue.” 

Harry lulls his middle finger across the hem of his glass, exactly how she had been doing earlier, the motion weighed by an innuendo. She seems to understand it, present in how she bites into the inside of her cheek. “I just figured that a pretty girl like you would have easily found someone to dance with. So when I saw you sitting here looking all bored with your drink barely touched…I just assumed, I suppose.” 

And there it is again— the blood pouring into her face. Christ, if she keeps that up, he’s going to fucking lose it.

“Thank you, that’s— that’s really sweet. Proper gentleman.” 

Harry runs his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes snapping to her tinted mouth for a second, establishing some sexual tension that he’ll expand on as they go. “Who doesn’t like a guy who knows how to treat a girl, right?” 

Y/N clears her throat softly, obviously phased by his forward compliment, but she tries to play it off. “To answer your question, I— uhm...I’m not really one for the club scene, I guess. Don’t really like it, but I didn’t want to be rude and turn down the invitation.” 

‘Good girl,’ Harry thinks, silently cheering her on for having more brain cells than the typical human. 

“Well, that’s where we share some common ground, then.” He chimes brightly, a soft smile bringing his dimples to life. “I don’t care for clubs, either, but my friends have an affinity for them so here I am.”

He gestures vaguely towards the general direction where he’d left Mitch, continuing his rant. “The choking smoke, the annoying strobe lights, the crowded floor, the drunk morons—”

“Bumping into you without giving a shit.” Y/N finishes his sentence, her vulgarity drawing a boyish giggle from her companion and now she’s convinced she’d do anything to hear him laugh like that again. “And there’s always a faint smell of vomit coming from somewhere.”

Harry slaps his hand down against the glass table in passionate agreement, voice pitching up slightly as his brows jump in emotion. “Right?! It’s fucking disgusting. Don’t understand how anyone could genuinely enjoy it.” 

Y/N nods vehemently, sharing the same expression of utter distaste towards the subject. “It honestly doesn’t make any sense to me, either. Why come here when you can go to, like, a nice bar somewhere, y’know?”

Harry blinks at her in astonishment, her opinion mirroring his own with psychic-like accuracy. “My thoughts exactly.” 

“Great minds think alike.” Y/N responds playfully, taking a hearty gulp from her drink since the first time he’d spotted her from across the room. 

After a comfortable pause, Harry speaks up, also entertaining another sip from his own drink, which is now nearly empty. “Are you from around here?”

She can’t be. Rarely anyone born and raised here is willing to bash the status quo, and never so openly. 

She’s once again mesmerized by the attractiveness of his rings, but manages to get her composure in check. “Kinda. I moved here about two months ago.” 

Precisely his point.

Harry releases a curious hum over the cup between his lips. “Let me be the one to officially welcome you to Cali, then! Where people go to shitty clubs for fun and tan themselves into a strip of leather.”

Y/N sputters out a half-suppressed giggle and Harry’s brows almost furrow at the weird fluttering in his stomach. He rarely gets it.

Y/N takes another deep gulp of what he thinks is probably an Old Fashioned, silently praising the way she’d finished it off so quickly. She crunches an ice shard between her teeth and lets it melt across her tongue before engaging again. “I’m guessing you’re not from around here either though, are you?”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to chuckle a bit and she fights off an endeared smile. 

“What gave it away?” He asks, purposefully doing a thicker, fuller accent, his teasing nature making the grin she’d just stifled fully break through.

Y/N lifts a shoulder offhandedly. “Your accent seems a little too…posh for this area. Or even this hemisphere.”

Harry scoffs softly, the pinky around his glass sticking up jokingly as he kinks an eyebrow at her, a few rouge curls falling across his forehead. “Keen ears, mate.”

Y/N lifts her drink up a bit with a playfully knowing air, mimicking an English dialect. “Cheers.”

He places his empty cup down on the counter, his middle finger once more ghosting around the edge absentmindedly. She notices the pastel yellow polish covering his nails, tiny black smiley faces decorating the lacquer.

“I like your nails.” She admires, tipping her empty lowball towards his hand for significance. “Did you do them yourself?”

Harry glances at his fingers, stretching and wiggling them out, his features taking on a bit of pride. “Sure did.” 

“Don’t think I’ve ever met a guy at a club who could pull off nail polish so easily.” 

The left edge of his lips flicks upwards. “How do you mean?”

Y/N’s gaze bounces back to his and the tone twirling in his jade irises tells her everything she needs to know about keeping this conversation going: he enjoys being praised. 

She chooses her next words carefully, wanting to appeal to his interests. “I mean that it looks amazing on you. The color suits your skin nicely, makes your hands look good.” 

Harry breaks eye contact, glimpsing down at his shoes and she realizes he’s actually trying to hide a blush. The fact that she had managed to coax one out of him boosts her confidence while simultaneously making his own waver. He’s never like this— never so easily flustered. He needs to get it together.

Harry tilts his chin back up, lower lip strung between his two front teeth. His voice comes out as a flirty laugh.

“Known you for maybe,” he looks at the beautiful watch on his wrist symbolically, “ten minutes, and you’re already stroking my ego just the way I like it. I think that’s a record.” 

Y/N doesn’t know if it’s the liquor she’d just consumed too quickly, or if it’s Harry’s intoxicatingly alluring scent dulling the region of her brain that controls fear, but she’s suddenly filled with a strange surge of courage and her thoughts are spilling down her semi-numb tongue before she can stop them. “I’ve been told I’m pretty good at stroking, so an ego’s not too hard to handle.”

Harry cocks an eyebrow, surprised at her brazen reply. He might have misjudged her more than he assumed. However, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy this girl more than the one he thought he was going to receive. There’s just something about how she can match his banter without a problem, and how they share a lot of the same thoughts and opinions, that just lights a fire in his stomach. 

“Is that so?” His voice lowers in pitch and he scoots a step closer, fingers just barely brushing against her arm as he repositions himself against the bar. His question comes out as a sultry murmur. “What else can you handle?”

Y/N knows that she’s starting to cross a line, and with every passing moment, the likelihood of returning to her friends is getting smaller and smaller. She’s not mad about it. Riding off of the wave of confidence that had inflated her ego earlier, she mumbles her response back with the same tone and texture. “How about you buy me another drink and then maybe you’ll find out?”

Harry gives her a boyish grin and the indents that pop into his cheeks nudge his appearance from an incredibly attractive man to an adorable cheeky boy. He motions to the bartender for another round of drinks, only letting his eyes flicker away from her for the moment it takes to do it. “How do you like LA so far?”

“It’s...alright.” It’s Y/N’s turn to move closer to him now, flicking her hair off her shoulder, hoping that the motion releases the perfume she’d dabbed on her neck while getting ready. Judging by the darkening of Harry's eyes, it does just that. “It’s definitely a change in pace from where I used to live, but I think I’m slowly gaining the reigns. I feel like once I get acquainted, I could grow to love it.”

“LA’s definitely a toggle. You could either vibe with it, or it’ll eat you alive and spit you back out.” 

She bats her lashes at him in stunned fright at his bluntness, his face deadly serious without any twitch or give. 

Harry then bursts into high-pitched laughter, eyes crinkling shut and nose scrunching. “I’m just fucking with you, love. Ease up, hm?”

“You asshole!” Y/N exhales grandly, half in relief and half in indignation, slugging him on the shoulder. All she feels is hard muscle beneath. 

He continues to cackle, sticking his tongue out at her. “Looked like you were about to cry.” 

“It definitely crossed my mind, yeah!”

The bartender arrives with their fresh drinks and Harry tells the man to but both of Y/N’s on his tab. She feels her cheeks glow, telling him he doesn’t have to, but he waves it off and says he’s more than happy to serve such a nice girl as herself. Especially if she “hates the same things I do. Think of it as your initiation gift into the Anti-Club Club.” 

A handful of heartbeats tick by, full of comfortable quietness as they both savor their new beverages. Harry pipes up first, regaining their topic from before.

“But, yeah, Cali’s for sure a special place. You meet some cool people if you hang around for a while. But sometimes,” he pauses for a second, eyes gleaming with something she can’t quite interpret. “But sometimes you can meet a really interesting person in just one night.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” Y/N clicks her nails against her Old Fashioned distractedly as Harry fixes her with that beautiful emerald gaze that makes her ears tingle. She cocks her head to the side knowingly, flashing him a soft smirk. “Sometimes, you just happen to meet that one in a million.”

“A lucky strike.” He adds, lifting his tequila an inch off the counter and tilting it towards her in what appears to be a toast, irises dancing with a certain type of suggestive mischief. “To meeting interesting people.”

The human girl clinks the rim of her lowball to the edge of his cup, shrugging her brows and reciting his comment back to him. “To meeting interesting people.” 

Y/N measures how the rest of their interaction goes by how quickly her drink shrinks. 

When she reaches down to the first ice cube stacked on top, Harry has managed to coax multiple rounds of laughter out of her, his humor startlingly similar to her’s in the most refreshing way imaginable. She quickly learns that despite his broad shoulders, lean torso, dark inking, and flawless features, he’s a complete and total dork. His personality consists mainly of voice impersonations and contorting his expression into an endless array of silly faces, which she takes to easily.

By the time Y/N’s amber drink has reached halfway down its container, the default touch barrier between the two has broken completely. There had been a few caresses prior, but now it’s more frequent, more noticeable, and each touch extends in time. She had been the one to initiate getting physical, which had sat so right in her stomach because that meant he was respectful and patient— definitely unlike most men in clubs. 

The mortal girl had gently shoved Harry’s chest when he’d made an nonchalant joke about how losing his swim trunks at a nude beach had been both the best and worst experience of his life, her cheeks boiling as she had felt nothing but more toned muscle beneath the cotton fabric of his top. She had gone back to tracing at his tattoos the further they got into sharing anecdotes and opinions, glancing up at him for permission in the middle of their exchange and smiling to herself when he’d nodded casually without a second thought. As the conversations continue, they both unintentionally get closer in distance to the point where the arm Harry had settled on the bar is now fully wrapped around the small of her back. She willingly leans into him, their knees and thighs brushing with every shift of their bodies and those minute moments begin to pile up their excitement.

By the time the alcohol in her possession bottoms out, she is nearly sitting in his lap, faces only a few inches apart. Y/N can’t recall half of what she had said, the subject having steered into so many different places that she couldn’t be bothered to keep track. Besides, she’s too focused on trying to keep a straight face as Harry plays footsie with her below the counter, his light yellow sneaker toying with her heeled velvet wedge. 

An important question on his behalf snaps Y/N out of her flirty stupor.

“So how do you like your new home?”

She blinks at him slowly, partially to try and give a seductive tinge to the interaction and partially because the liquor has started to truly settle in. It takes her a few heartbeats to process the inquiry. “I love it, actually. It’s a place of my own, for the first time ever. I couldn’t be happier.”

The corners of Harry’s swollen lips tick in genuine happiness on her behalf. “That sounds amazing. Congratulations on such a big step.” 

“Thank you! What about yourself? Renting anything neat?”

“Oh, I own a condo here.” He mentions casually, outlining the criss-cross pattern along the circumference of his highball glass. “I used to visit so often that I finally just decided to pull the trigger on one.”

“Look at you, investing in real estate.” She says in a teasing voice, her heel grazing around his calf slowly, cheeks sizzling as he parts his legs a bit to allow her the pleasure of traveling higher up.

“Mmhm.” Harry licks his red lips, free hand starting to trace over her own. The tips of his fingers are calloused and cold, the motion of them over her skin almost pulling a tremble out of her body. She does her best to restrain it, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. “Is it nice?” 

“Hm?”

His lips twitch in endearment at how he’s managing to make her lose her train of thought. “Your apartment, darling.”

She rests the rim of her drink on the bottom of her lip as she speaks. “It’s nothing huge or fancy, but it’s a decent size and l can call it home. Can’t get much better than that.”

Y/N loves how Harry's eyes flit to her lips for what she thinks is the billionth time tonight, his vision sketching along the curve of her cupid’s bow and dotting every peak.

Another warm glow of confidence spikes through her veins and she’s talking before she can analyze her thoughts. “Well, at least I think it can’t get much better than that. Although, I could just be biased. Could probably use an outside opinion.” 

It takes Harry a moment to register what she’s suggesting, a light blush creeping up the base of his neck as he realizes how he’s stopped so abruptly. Humans usually never get him this unnerved and it’s one of many times she’s made it happen. “An outside opinion?”

Y/N lists her head to the side. It sounds like he’s accepting the vague invitation, but she’s so anxious to mess this up that she’s second guessing herself with every passing second. However, with every touch, she wants Harry more and more, and that’s enough to propel her towards a more direct approach. “Mmhm. Like yours, maybe. Would you like to come back and see it?”

Harry pauses for a few of her heartbeats, and then bobs his head in acceptance. She can breath again. 

He finishes off the last inch or so of his tequila, a wicked grin creeping its way across his pretty, flushed mouth, long fingers carding into his loosely arranged curls. “I’m more than happy to be of service.”

A smile works its way onto Y/N’s own face at his response, her foot dropping back down his leg slowly. “I’m glad to hear.”

“Mm.” Harry takes her hand completely now and she almost moans at how much bigger his are, his rings pinching a bit, skin rough in some areas, but silky smooth in others. And strangely icy, but she enjoys it. “Shall we say goodbye to your friends first? I wouldn’t want them to worry about you.”

He knows her “friends” couldn’t care less, but he wants to be as much of a gentleman as possible. Romanticize, romanticize, romanticize.

Y/N snorts, knowing full well that they’d probably purposefully embarrass her in front of him as a joke. 

She squeezes his grasp lightly, giving him a soft smile. “You’re sweet, but it’s fine. They were actually behind you earlier, encouraging this whole thing, so I’m pretty sure they won’t mind.” 

Harry hums deep in the back of his throat and the sound melts into a cute chuckle. “I’m glad they helped, then. Think you can deliver them my thanks some other time?”

The young woman chews on the inside of her cheek at his comment, realizing that it suggests he aims on keeping her occupied for the rest of the night and well into the morning. She has to will herself not to lurch forward and kiss at his annoyingly perfect lips right then and there. “I’ll make sure to pass the message along.” 

With one last cocky simper, Harry helps her down from the stool and pays off their tab, offering her his jacket since most of her outfit is made of flimsy fabrics. Y/N takes it appreciatively, lashes fluttering when his scent envelopes her like a blanket. It’s the unique smokiness from his cologne, mixed with a slightly sweeter smell that she assumes is his shampoo, and a bit of something that reminds her of a vanilla candle. The aromas are sewn into every thread of his coat and she can’t wait to have those scents glued all over her more deliberately later tonight.  

Harry turns and plunges them into the throng of partiers, weeding through bodies with a type of determination that makes her insides twist. His arm comes up in front of him as he plows people out of the way with absolutely no regret, leaving her to throw out a few half-assed apologies in his wake. The idea that he’s excited to be alone with her has Y/N’s insides churning. 

Once they escape all of the grinding limbs and tight spaces, stumbling into the cool air of the starry night, she takes a huge gulp of air. She prays it will tide over the jitters running along the inside of her tummy. She has just now realized how riled up he’d gotten her and it’s all coming to a raging boil. 

Harry paces past the bouncer, throwing up two fingers in parting. “Later, Brock.” 

The security guard gives the young vampire a confused look, not recognizing him at all and wondering how he knows his name. 

Y/N repeats Harry’s phrase for the hell of it, squeezing his hand jestingly and he glimpses over his shoulder, grinning at her with sheer amusement and something much deeper swirling around the specks of copper in his irises. If there was a bit more light, perhaps she would have noticed the way his irises had glinted blood red instead of olive green.

She ogles at the way his back muscles shift and flex below his pastel blue shirt, her mind vaguely taking note of the light yellow detailings along the cuffs and collar. The tee is intriguing and fun and she hopes he’ll let her sleep in it after they’re done. 

She also gets distracted by the baby curls decorating the nape of his neck. She’s itching to tug at them and see what his response would be. Would he shiver in her grasp and let out a soft moan, or would he smirk darkly and tell her to go harder?

Harry suddenly halts, snapping her out of her thoughts as he presents his car. Y/N’s jaw nearly falls off. “This is yours?!”

She gawks at the vintage jet black convertible before her, feeling like she isn’t worthy of its chic presence. It looks new, shining in the street lamps like a thousand diamonds, not a scratch or dent in sight. 

Harry unlocks the passenger’s door, opening it and guiding her inside with a gentle pull at their clasped hands, shrugging his brows playfully. “Hope it’s not too shabby for your liking.”  

“Are you kidding?” The human mumbles in awe as she ducks down into the patented leather seat, running her free hand over the elegant cover. She sighs softly at the way his smell is lingering inside the vehicle, just as much as it sticks to his clothes. “I feel like I should bow to it or something.”

He laughs fully now, leaning down to get a view of her sitting prim and proper in his favorite car, looking gorgeous in her flowy silk pants, lace creme blouse, and his own clothes. He gnaws at his bottom lip to withhold a needy groan. “I think you fit right in.” 

Y/N feels warmth erupt into her face and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to distract her fingers from shaking. “Looks like I’m not the only one that’s good at stroking egos.”

“S’hardly a task. You make it easy, doll.” 

It’s the second pet name he’s called her tonight— it’s strangely vintage, same as his car— and she can’t wait to hear what others he has in store. Preferably in the form of breathy pants and broken whines.

Y/N flicks her gaze up at him through heavy lashes, attempting to stifle a sheepish smile. “Quite the charmer.”

A moment of silence suspends in the air, a light breeze filtering through Harry’s curls, swaying the jewelry around his neck as well as the earring hanging from his lobe. Harry speaks up with a type of hushed desire she hadn’t heard from him yet. “Can I kiss you?”

She blinks up at him once in mild surprise and then releases a sigh of utter relief. “Fuck, I thought you’d never ask.” 

Her hand reaches upwards outside the confines of the car, knitting into the thick fabric of his shirt and yanking him down. The second their mouths meet, it sets off a dozen fireworks in the pit of her stomach. His is softer than she had imagined, wet and warm, and his tongue carries the sourness of the tequila he’d been swishing the whole night. 

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat, and then a quiet whimpery moan streams down his tongue onto her itchy skin. “Christ, that was hot.”

As much as she loves the taste of him— the tartness of the alcohol mixed with an inherent sweetness his lips carry— she forces herself to pull away, but keeps her sweaty forehead pressed to his. “Yeah. It was.”

With one hand still gripping the car door, Harry uses his other to cup her chin lightly, guiding her into another kiss. Now that they have both developed a feel for the other, this one is less tentative than the last. She tastes so fucking good on his tongue, like strawberry syrup—probably from her lipgloss— orange bitters, and bourbon. He just has to have more of it.

A helpless gasp escapes Y/N when Harry's teeth graze against her upper lip, only nipping enough that she craves more. More of anything he has to offer. 

He pulls away and the whine that plucks her vocal chords feeds his eternal soul like nothing else has in a while.  

The young man grins at her for a moment, half in smug satisfaction, half red-faced and desperate, before carefully closing the car door and making his way to the driver’s side. He slides in with ease, shuts his own door and buckles up with a click of the belt. The simple action has never looked so attractive before, but she’s certain that anything Harry does with his ring-covered hands would be attractive.  

He fishes his keys from his front pocket, asking her where she lives in order to try and orient himself. As it turns out, she’s not too far away from his own flat. He knows exactly which condominium she’s referring to without having to even search it up— a perk of living here for a few decades.

He also chuckles to himself a bit at the fact that she hadn’t mentioned he shouldn’t drive under the influence. Vampires have an extremely high tolerance due to their self-healing properties, so the drinks he’d had only gave him a soft, warm buzz. He just finds it comical— and slightly arousing— that she’s so eager to get at him that she’d let that detail slip her mind.

Harry starts the car, but doesnt pull out of the parking spot. Instead, he glances at Y/N as a crease appears in his beautifully sculpted brows. The idea of something displeasing him bothers her, and she’s about to ask what it is when he murmurs a quick, “Just a second, dove.” He reaches across to grab her seatbelt, pulling it over her body and securing it into place on her behalf, making sure it’s nice and proper before leaning back in his seat. He doesn’t know why he cared to do it, but he had. 

The simple action leaves another layer of heat on Y/N’s cheeks. Having him bent over her like that was just a teaser of what was going to unfold later and it already has her mind spinning. She can only imagine how much of a mess he’s going to leave her when there’s no clothes restraining them.

“Thanks.” She whispers, playing with the tips of her fingers.

“No need to thank me. Just wanna keep that pretty face in one piece.” 

He plops one hand on the steering wheel as he shifts into reverse, carefully backing out of his spot. His arm ducks behind her seat, head turning and veins chiseling into his neck. It takes all of Y/N’s willpower not to lean up and begin to darken his tanned skin with hickeys. 

Harry cruises up to the exit of the club parking lot, waiting impatiently for the turn signal, digits tapping away at the leather below them. Y/N can see him throwing pained little glances at her from her peripheral vision, obviously restless to feel her skin sliding against his. Each look causes the warmth between her thighs to swell. 

She’s talking before she can stop herself, voice bashful and soft as ever, yet full of boldness from the liquor she’d consumed. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to do something to you that’s gonna get us both killed.”

The tapping of his fingers halts and he cranes his head to face her fully, ignoring the flashing green arrow on the stoplight before them. 

Harry reaches over the center console, his nose dragging up the length of her cheekbone, causing her to squeak out a tiny whimper at the feathery sensation. It’s the first time tonight he’s touched her so intimately. 

The sentence he grits out next makes her entire body visibly shutter, his breath hot against her ear, damp lips smearing over her jaw as his oath burns into her flesh.

“And if you say something like that to me again, I promise you I’ll pull this car over and make you eat every fucking word.”