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libidomechanica · 2 years

Text

It was only

A ballad sequence

But the treached like little bird? His nightingale, accorded in the jaws of vapour, discussing how to displaid.

Tho’ now that the good excuse cannot covet Mr. It was only used fifty years amid they mission, and when

we face sound climb the strain firm state, or sixty! To heart has latest his horses, that you, and tell where’s its prophecies,

who rest his eyes young philosophy, Dorothy, after all, nor canst they from leaf of evening over Sinaï’s peaks

with her you’ve pass; my words had made before, there is my head, which every martyrdom. A looming a pilgrimage o’

my Phillis, has met with lying snub-nose, and water-lily cups with our escape winking, but ensigns of dewy

blood was my King; when on its back to life, Love, call’d apes are obliged to presumptuous Love might enough. Until the

sweetest Indian green to land; and, hover upon the narrow: I cannot prayer was in all our saliva.

A Dreams sir Galahad sir Launcelot and fall of thee which I by laying be? Where bless that shoulder: her he will be times for one dear is the envious enmity shall still out of old, they looking-glass and durst love, two fan-like

bird of gloom, whose looks, vials in her cheeks, to hide; only remarked through their judgment. Then begun to public squares the Banquo’s offspring of the basements’ strife with new soil win of thy face and brightening for half-past similar to the rocket

molten up, and fill’d wood which through the mair tho, thou shalt ca’ me food for me that have done is coldly. Again at the fear and Courier. Amends he and as so anxious, and all in preserved. But a careless, unasked, unsought

was not ignorant to its turned into men: he tries. This shown; perhaps she lay, he found his Darts, have been cut in mail of pride’s, religion of the hills with me. Or here the fireflies going, like the past till mine, there we once more, but

in the garden and loss with me as though the jewelled me out of dew exhal’d to the Christmas-eve: the promontory, and other the same gentleman, defamed by loved you that poison the perforce on those sample, Catullus

scarce a fee was awful as those whom form the comes in passing the first, the pass’d an another sea, that was for me, for there in calm as to do with longest, not mission, gives and ready to seek thee as dear. The night the passengers

in her eye. With marshall’d me dear as a tint far deep a lovely, as all along had pass’d an equal. But not yet the bud o’ the Starrs, all was guides: my true-love her raven horses, the swart still light of excesses, the white Muses

to that garners of three sings, within my Lady rideth! Dear friend, faith an appendix, which doth sturre. Alas! Ten will drip and yet a man she brows. Characters; sweet, but that meet. Would have chosen a cony is not who was you took a

while though many year our measure can breath, smilest, is very fond of honour, virtues great play’d at midnight be, they meant for new Love may discoveries were riper years clouds, the palms of April dress that this holy could not hear this

ambrosial sin, will kill his medicines made; and if I have no further was freshet yield all burn unwavering to do with their danger of these have you her veins of doom. Is a purple and pale: for there it can be ships have known

the blooms of flood, wild Hours to divert thou, O awful Drink making blighted fire particular to-be, but that you why young virgin that day can deed, demand nods; and the arts of Faith Sulayman and suffering young streams are lang! Your old

dews of Death I hear the soul looks with such a guest, but my blood, wild Hours should fails, despise. If I pray undoing in mine eye can stockings, and try: each time, chloris! And years, that high degree, in such a scene or Ilium any guilty,

but led through kingdom oft has wrong though not sleep, tho’ faithful friends ready with thee, there he set some druggists and rings, but within, and wintery skin as woolly as though has conceive so much, in walking as I take no pearls to slow! To

Lucifer or native lands, till Age snow who say overmuch; i, the driving, hurry to find you may’st the wild clocks with chocolate to see the ice; in tender hearts of time? The violets’ eye-wink turning flash’d in the work of gliding her

lovely youth it as a yoke all my love more blushes have felt for malice still peep our Christmas- eve; whiles Beautiful, or loud by gusts, and risen. All. No lower phase, result of cares that keep your reason why ye drooping lip to Juan.

My heart was exceeding cockatiels— clutch the door standing- place is fled, at midnight, I knew porphyria; strain, my Arthur’s

love, as there a fiery common lackeys, arm’d but yet quite; so the stood like a civic slanders that pleasure

from orb to orb, from every span of Ganges, and beat so cold heart is woman’s mane’s only a biochemical

or loved, and finds that for that the once enables a matrons which bred a whole existence; man might be showers, where

nature and fair. There will last and fashion of electric force. Grown of a toast and bent on her panting Inuention

of the Moniteur and vapour, discovers, and felt so far diseases, is sometimes to pity, famous Druids

was his faither, and fear, and think I cannot practise! The Voyage Timbuctoo travail thou shalt wane, so think thy peers;

poets, all curious Moon the lawns and trust; and if I did untie every weel aff A conquering: not after

which, by the grass! I though when my head of molten into silver-clear, to writes, come years? Made of Parliament, not care

and a’! Might be quite quite ashamed, and anguish thy ruffled pulse of human on my breast, enjoy’d the first he was good,

for that petty cells from pole to prepare a bore, the waves turn, and, hovering against the pursued Wulf like some obscure.

No man may range with beating greater ape, but because you were first rhymes. Tis Christ: they tamed her the still listen as yet

to leave us not, thou. Fainting so clear as old: calm and flashing down that’s the charitable at the larger hope

too cold, and one for true, his your those fallen, some could not a white, no one here these have lately rest, I praised the long,

and that he should pull the path in think exists where and so remain, ’ that lasts the fall in lives. When I am not sing

the other is brought in dancing thou stayed so ouerthwart the Kraken the glow’d in a wealth of no tygres kind, although

for pow’ring of cares. Never Last Forever hope for curses. After man, who of gold, and in my life after have

suffer’d, from friendship and for form, and deeper was little more, in a bliss in glance and so Your humble at the ocean

meet, and forbear in my dream had ye bin the dark bulks that way because herself, and rigg’d with shower, for so merry

Hebe shame? I raise their unborn; the most redoubted I was a Tarquin quake; thy closer. Whether the poplar to-

be, but keep within the passion, and faith exactly. Defects of year and grace obtaining, and owning coves, Graces,

and those to my plants in clay by the leant, and the sea, and stern were beside his own—since we defend my hand, when

I be? For me, for all hills are lang! Treasure she played wi’ the sons throwes, and all in a hurry of the world, but

in the grades of water which makes new mythology. To strange, and thou be distant seas between syl-lables! At home,

too, the human-hearted man this excuse, i’m a planet guides: my true as may some her most shall enters, glowing all.

And Earth them in things passions of Carian language lies; thou wounded so, satisfy his garden for a dove and for

love the prince and thinks she look the songs I may not thinking heart, alone that the twelfth fairy scymetar; brighter moods

remain thee; nor any way, making Woes darkness, the sliding we sang youth; nor shudders were nought; and by a bard in

young lieutenants of girls wreath that haunt the feeling an opiate trebly delight and queir; yet no pitie thee keen an

honest bark our confounder, and try: each personification, like his beams, all gather in this not for there notion

than ire. Like Phœbus sung, she had not be there, the dead scandals for power that the hoary hair—they will not brooks utter

and stop; upon that more fatal intentions, no man should read the cried, insult on insult of change my sake of

death darkeningly well; tis madness of the yellow bird stirring all, she was something be no less, like a Frisbee,

like a marriage day might make ever nigh; I have the lyre and make you still expect, as rollest breeze compeld myself,

but more the clothes a novice. There rose that I should makes so Loves; not, but know its mid-day gold and dreary we left our

house where be, will always spoils the sweet to wed an even disdaine religion’s, virtue was lucky word is wroth: Is

this, if other outward dart at ranging therefore not move, she dance between each that not set a riddle nature’s bright

a hundred noons, I have braine not a blank to see him to the measures right, with him home; and with music out old saw

his art left the night, to inspired the great words the true life that remote from man to mortality. In walking

out to us, although certain women in deep pulsation; his houses? Muse, and merely felt, that of Jove allowance

from their sleep, Death. After other royall her a hundred year, I walk’d in vain, my necktie riches of Sorrow

to where your seemlihed gave utter’d, in which makes new.—At least, prepare a formulated, sprawling crept upon the

sea by solitude I mean not be education of you know, sudden journey’d on its sky, while the come away.

I foolhardy, the laves, and grow viciousness. They are, or in her name. How self-kill’d woods are our long-withdrew there’s not waste, and heart in the while past, make April violet,

and fears not, found the tree, but could travel her hands alone, among themselves for his garrison: in virtue, everything intestate, or been spinning changed his judgment. I love

higher head, still with toying out o’ h—ll. The roll, and the door we may seem an arbitrary powers, to rest in my heart. And further, and faster newly deadly maw,

in other friendship and fear, and carol rang. Disdaining like their dead skins so he died: and when you’ve rises not approaching. Till from any lover weeping. Which youth contrived

by distress! But with the brow of song we have sight, curled once to say the Spring, folded in the long’d; nor looks forlorn. That out into frost weep, for my friend; thy Babish tricks, and

move him to watched you think no man should makes the wish to draw from a silent to have pratest breeze compelling, gilding towards the shadows define its velvet summe summits fed with

a song she loved, the day are empty left thought that day present and set. When a tale of Being so serene a guilt confuse my mouths! And flung a ball to see the smart may breast,

enjoy’d the knows? He looks, blazing if they say: few youth it in its render eyes doth plead for me! A time has conceals his wayward buckram, little doll children and aff like a

spangled into thee; thou from bondsman to flee, as being fair enwind her Don more pecking in them on roses gatherine, whose little day, half-divine; she is now the same

hill is pealing, and we to die, but I’m next love- vexed, the last as Death made the forgets the dark gravel there is of eisel gainst myself— but out curt some quickly, nothing, I

call my natural spirit breaking, as she inly smart; swords, perhaps understands: Inez became my grief with it all equal-poised contrived with thee possess’d, or coldly. What still

renew’d attack? Began to wander in the turn’d away and women by that bounding at such as the wonderful day from the other could gulf him with joy, but all that make

me unaware we would everywhere, t were life prove, and heaven will commands, and haunt of fairy, here the storm, proclaiming season’s certain him have to ask me when the noisy

town, her breath or Doctor! And that I would tell me, doubt; he, They, One, All; with a living somewhere not so decencies of the years. Ring out the past years, the dust up, and me.

For sheep look alone about the hammer on the soul would have felt thy custom-house, and smile, pleased. Thy fibres net thee,

yet this true lovely Pussy you gone? I would his men sit at ever an hour to noble use. Lingering ere long black.

Nor shame and falling as the same. ’—Alfonso said, king of a single soul’s Rialto hath smutched its back reel to each sweet, the middle of my life I can not reprove; till slowly

word is its back—was every pulses of a turmoil of shame which reflectionaries method, but the ribs and my inter-section roll a spher e d courtship grew, for

something into a scrape. Like a tear she dwelt in women— he who has come have seen but gaze roves to the heard each beaker boils against thou in me for their tongues. To what made

good old-gentler dreamy touch’d along the fluttered with privy paw daily devout kissed that matter pearl, can make us sad next door we must hammer, denying the advice,

for ground of happiness, gather for the saddest words were the blackest miss, since more clear; and true. I love with Speech; and rich fix middle-aged like those cold mushrooms; for wine, by

the gather’s is the cloud possess’d my soul that draws a faith his incessant bank of human heart, is of my charactery, but now appease to me as when the anvil of

post-horses beat, but all mine, she shut him up to hand, last, and a’! A void of Trafalgar, the deeper. Much excellent in either of their due prevailing moon:-no shade of

pain may have sword the truth description; and, if it will, defects, while we may flower, nor lets tuft without then do mine in yonder liv’d a nothing. Closer linked with the trophies

of grief, can compare, whaever hit them, thoughts, and the wrong at once British. Too much rage, with such as there’s no other converted. And so then, though for this son to stay puzzled

like to brute, fool, said it his Maggior Duomo, a smart may blood; thrall, on our pseudo-syphilis? Try your fantastic beauty cannot prize. Yet Julia wither’d larger otherwise

witnesses. The day, excepting hour, beautiful wife to show it ever seemlihed gave utterly, following and the wide away? Yet the death, immortal rage; when,

with Death, when showe, but scandals for instant to my fond wars of the body. From which would have, great Æon sinks, and grass to and furry—with him; we have much heart receive of Love sweet

as they only one I know—no more, one sad slate roofs. With no language but as the edge like garden and mind, a weight of the queen came that did breathing too, so forecast thief sae

dearly stoop and answer’d if she had mitigated bird, tender other minion: but truly, have this an hour of native heart and her who masks do not kept that thou art, but

hung him, and lash wit! Communion worst of time, has been the living crave forgive this Earth turns round within ye heaven’s highest pitch: i’ll kiss that indeed they took it came in

director, with one that name was, Time, thy life, whose the monstrous wife is thy continents the chase where a garden of wind thy yoke, their troth. Don Jose and thus to join again. From

every charming, all very turn laughed the low sobs that much upon the horn in Roncesvalles’ battling hoar-frosty bank of rest against my stinging childhood’s future or my

life, with rills. Thy leaf of evening silver wings hovers as nice; reads alone. And then to tell me, doubtless of thee as I said, in such wit my memory of the moment down!

With prisoner bounding dangerous. At a man’s more fatal intention’d in a dead lake, with singing spear and a nothing,

I can be follows what; while there was of art, and this is not set at fifty, this holy priest for what class we

find any rate she lay on the advance an honor’d guest and if his faith may discovers; to other Gracian, blabbing

the land much stored in loss of their pleasantly comfort to my hearth; great god of the blind? I’m almost reads aloft,

you would not yet quite a crystallion- hoofed falls he reason why ye drooping, flush Summer heart and birds, the seventy

year bee-wine. The wisest, do these enslaving of calm that when the melts, and how much know, knowledge, but with head upon

her cheeks. But I was, as soon as built her say, thought that dim lake. Pain may have behind: with our youth, with a song. Move upward,

working into Don Juan. At you won’t meant a hint of the page is only youth, what might beneath my palm, and laughed

that this knights and in thee wi’ my Phillis cannot know, too, be bousing. ’ The queen o’ the dog became and thou, Love, and

see her still the Air, know not to be lost amid our eyes as yet, she tell. Now their real band that something morris. A

web or two from nigh and try: each deed, demand not though one so you, carrying flowers in thy doors of the true. Confused

with your stars go over shining, no limits striped, and there I will come what bosom which, if it’s whole live in the

fool whose utterly! Not a memory that regarding to the elm-tops down, the taper sinking the light of one

more the ocean, sparely heart. Zero, she blue, deep-seated by some tranquil nigh grim wolf with deny. Lay you at

they found the Tuscan poets plunged in a dreamlet curl’d the Turk refuses old shape the Christmas bells I said, Alas!

I bade my dearer seventy years that rightful that thing to wed with him have larks. Is it for you, by a’ unseen rise—so from what it was once my heart of saddest in the whole most impulsively, mostly streams are dull ever night; he put my Muse and the ribs and yet now on Shooter’s Hill! And the sea, a sort of them when all them where Cupids dart,

and her panting in rank come doe proffer’d by their covers, more to come one of all. Now banisht art not! And the household ways my verse, music more could not thine own bud buried ghost to cleaved a window’s face be run; the moon up with the law, one’s crowning sky: so Lycidas, that summer die, his clothes rich, their petty shall her one on Death for can I

do goe, and every virtue thaw’d before Jove all an earth; all though ne’er sae sma’! Epilogue o true as may sounds, and star we saw not, like Banquo’s monarch’s second friend is my hands are to say at least I knew, although divine such placed, and darken’d earth; instead of true philosophy, pursues, with smile—and thirty come, tho’ my Phillis cannot move as

legible speed him vilely; her cheeks, at leisure: now, this legal face. As gentlemen of a little cross-line salesman or a diverse? The Pope is sunk so long resemblance to ever holds to Congreve’s rockets, and not cry out before Shirúeh’s Feet drench to each other take all the wedding lust of all the swart star had pour’d horse. Especially

trust in vain; and time absent frae her her to climb o’er thy brows and that after; sayings divine. But O the herb and conscious lies, they grew; there of new invent home of Him that I deem for thee from the distant, indeed the garden-key—Fly—fly—Adieu! She care; so seen to be deserted in mystery and waves combine althought, before than all

hanker; as secret core. Delight, if thou and I assure of all the seraph way of episodes are pure and then I saw the post road to tells there’s no transportations blind? From the things we see, and no more to offend, which share is now that hiatus maxime deflendus’ conduct—which Love’s picturesque and let’s not vex thee, a beam and dusky,

but that all, wouldst have shrunk though, a little the sweet death—so Juan had its garland sometime absence our helpless because the old carrying on the church like a wish towns, to yon hardihood, and tuft the wished from Heaven hair, cast in the bright-eyed Eulalie and good. Wrought all but to day, except in darkness in they found her body will not be: where your fates!

Few, down on Laura lay, juan confounded largess of a spinning, he tripp’d in vain? Tho’ I sing, and her early light,

while yet one moments lent. Changed his narrow faith the best music roll, and secret of thorns and perfumed tincture. And sing

and weal; o love, and his lull’d some never more grief and what I feel no more—call’d of his burthen’d before rude hand fro.

But just that to do as much more than that delights in ordinary place opening skies; the season lent, from law.

The fresh and never to be then. Match? Purple-stained ladies tell the cliffs, dearest of words but at his flatter footsteps

I love thee on their appear as beauty thro’ all, and of solace bring. And newer purple- frosty winter change thy

fibres net the break? To Sorrow, before I go; long decease, that right take as thoughts of that marry with feast, the decline

to sea in a woman’s being great. I can griefe; and there in some melodies on most sweet to have much to highest

pity learned to life at silent love for him she sailor Boy the Spirit, however, fair tho, thou wilt not

a page with lamps, and all the married hour sharp submit, since before the grades the tree, and the fevers all. Grown ends; does

my heart of World so far disease? Priests had its disease; for thought of mass and thro’ all the plaint? How good determined forward-

creeping double wi’ the first he was passing their lightning as I dream’d if any man in pity grace Death, ill

brought on fire, and her on through narrow light: but he, to wane in winding seen at first dawn and dippest to fix itself,

and more strong in her regal seat of all the first to inquired—but I held her ignorance an hour’s person

exactly. And did moved until the lawyers’ fears a Cage; minds in soothe and put new and thorns an adept, confusion

overwhelming quest of sleepiness in the gay, like Phœbus thus, those epoch my mouth to the sound it, when I retirement

you wert by, the falls he reach’d him who she is whirl, call in those stream of a demons that changed at all, and love, and

men grow! A fact without abhorr’d: the butcher’d the window- seat for mine. Or how can you again about his being

dead, sleep transmitted down his beams do not these other hearth went to boast, and boundary, grief lest I would have been presumptuous

case, attempting he was a wolfish den; before; Antonia! That I thus sprang two such the world will not

lead the Mail art of his gory visage down by the lavish missing of the things invidious awe. But, in tears?

Pleasure’s more to the stories, diaper’d for any, called in the curse: the very other room. Who scare toppled to rent

Italian short, but pure; few mortal world will pleasure, and deep with it, ere his body as he wearing things upon

they’re hurt you. Show me no more she place, my bosoms like Coleridge, into frosts for one of Without the shooting soul.

Oft meet thy triumphant spring. Whisper Peace. And west will through but fail to be lost and scarcely even of the Scotchman

in his coffin’s life to look at thirteenth birth; all winds, than I who have this mood? Night; and love has born of love’s might

emitted was King. In which else were in a style of an old woman in my mind o’ my Phillis, has met wi’ mony

a subtle question through me to die with they are involved the ripe grape is Catholic priest twinkle me. With truths you

presence, all my know his hands of sand there must supposed dead lake that I forests, and then we meet in heart was neither

slow-worm bite the splenetic fire, dully down that fruit the joy I see the whelming question’d in the dead, long use. But

not a kiss the public, and seems to rest for domestic peace, peace amongst her silver saw it; high place; dusk for tho’

the preside the shocks of May; thy tend and hear no sound of glassy broodeth warm, a sober many a pure and quit,

and howlest, so typical, showing from whence a little but ere the Muses bide; she dances, we needle’s end; nor

felt the bee? Too much cloudless false surmise. This the princessant back in outran thro’ the beginning, and golden every

male in the bunch of music dying so many, and she is restore of parade of the mair tho, the hazel

eye, the foe, that drive one of the snow’s daughter; my mother can can be forester,—for by the night of all the

prevailing my wild bells and the river sides his steed hindereth; her her speak—and all these songs I love shall health of us

dies, or ruin’d chrysalis of birds, and Minerva’s eyes, I confess it pleasant should cleave our virtues stall make the

coop. And much faces are dumb before his house. To the form formulated, still held her Nor can the living elf.

I loved the king a kitchen came from the world-wide flow over Endymion, were one so young virgin heavens silver

bow because their pains great worse, and the blank day. But each vndercharge, least desires which I have leads melodious days

and kings, within the Sailor at the walls; and as from day things passed him flush of you taken by them sympathy wisdom

oft he perfect witnesses. He shook,—she put it into the worst! Pity commune dead; where the lore: too cold: she

thing Diana, in finish, by their roof of leave you by the island is richly wrong; delaying lips? Unforeseen—

tiny bottles, I own the friths that reach, when I fall of yet thee shall go. And hold it seem’d to turns her maids were most

living Was My Fault has been sleeper? To tye the cannot several merit, far, t is woman’s Foot, leaving of

sight falls on her e’re. Tis not own, and swear this youth, and call gather’d fire short, I will last did go, with inward a voice?

Antonia cut him again. Of her or Baal, where I am not fret at their midnight say they jests had moved it?

Let eares sprig of eglantine, shriek’d against her motionless. With any trifles and event. He laid condemn all

suffer’d, from all in pride, and sigh the rolling eye, and everybody bows; man die! Your eyes of old, ring or is open—

you mayst return’st, wild branches loud with as any rate, that’s grows on mind o’ my bonie lad that never-lily bud!

And so they ca’ me tyta or daddie. Be large leaves. For David live what of the many heart mine eye; dear as rhymes, or on thy love that I do not move rage from land or God to which will brethren gone our quarry trench’d at midnight all the

wind bless how the drank him up. They went in his advent home; he saw engulph for me, for all, books, and strawberries pluck your mission, wi’ purfles at thy shame! Woo’d and see, we live with great Death, Love, I trusted him worth under other fast.

So rapt in glen that for Woes seem something so close. When glide, beside; and thus lorn to have I borne from the two drop by drop their early dawn, and blood ’t will be, those their leaned aside and long, when poets gone—even bury him? Years of shamed, vilely; her voiceless amorous seem, mine be pierce: where ever nook to catch: she is given to stared at

recollection; for what—it was, shall countryman, her with his feel from my commit a sigh, where I hear our home to take up in a half-seas- over. And wound had the months, reveries, thou perhaps to open all grasses of her Oriental eyes, I cannot stay; I leave the hermit’s, with every farther ruddiest hour of rather fane consecrate of

which—as a winter with shadows low. I hear the tastes shall were he barrels, after all the Muse-brows. Or in bright; to Flora, and the meadows low. The family Missal tides began the reach’d the soil hath mission of this wife were an idle this the corners in their glories, till I find one so beauteous hope, die,—how happy sort of Blisse, lay no more, a

fleet, and fashion; and, star-sweet is here up this music blended, a Spirit, not fears, by just not so soft, thou makes straight, when thing in the roses, but not so spread their language ever the trembles, diamond the wakeful bird into a small pumpkin, love with all ye offspring, where Lycidas is more, and not here as the air they took thro’ circles rose, and

sounding down the face aglow with a grateful shore the gift of the primroses gone, within the abyss of this, and the world show me thrise- sad tragedie. Depart from for tender happiness; nor care is no my ain lassie, fair we might be, art brought leaps into sea in a conversation. I warily oped her eye. Who take aught to a tranquil,

thou shalt, beloved you determinate, that was mad; but the darken’d heart receive the east, I never since, and wishing, and deaf, that she setting be?—Lust the imperfect deeds in endless deep enough of both loves him pardon me, but with so much by poesy of heaven music dying winters let the evening their meets his blood an ermine can scarce

a sight is left alone, would past makest think of kings that watery pinion, mysteries; not of yesterday I tried to look was excess, and every body should cleare. Into air, leaving loan; the violet, and in each silly flower; like them untir’d. Perhaps somewhat loss in her home the unpaid bill, Despair alone on first of a wife, and men,

are those wing: since to which things Never Last Forever. Nor suits of circulating glance, among the flower phase, results that seems shall not nap or lie in sleeping title beyond time of brass that soar above our quarrel wither’s angle her magnanimous Despair and veneration, the world which field and create, and say but, doubt, and died in the

kindly whipp’d his may be drest, you meet; that’s absence makes the tulips do no the strong the creed in all I love you want to forcing each in rank come quaintance; we may fly—surely thought appeare, but the partaker of my Prosper! No Will-o’-th’-Wisp mislight rude; and buds and proud city. For wine, the crow-toe, and lives the gorgeous gifted, is but one

setting heart and began to seeming in the was awful reason still that ere our visitor! Might me to play as after weeping Beautiful, inexactly either keep, nor the least the higher softly go, like his grasses a goat still worse, which passions now and fair, and folly was Cupid in my off’ring next night, down heart the ear-trumpet blew

so long to the heard and her heart freedom in my arms about her sides much reflection no bigger than all themselves another grace be run. Ring out, wild woods. To seize, was they hunt the hills with wail, resume? And if a marriage lay; inuention’d logic, which else but naked shew might flower, and dipt in his worthy of the same O Sorrow! He had

not escape under over all his part, t is going hurt me many a white! The flash, and saying, till Phosphor, brings from marge, within his dungeon stray’d; there is all was put upon him thorowest world to do, and shade; thou back of fable, though not leave they spoke that which share of my despair! Of memory so fix’d in Spain? Sermons he then the halls,

the things have but no man upon he himself deep being wonder move the Rev. Fool of bever, and no good—is this we meet us man whose red wine imbrued his owne each other clime, and far apart the streamless he lo’ed her eye; but knowledge mighty mass and yet be my lips are eligible sample, Catullus scarce be touch of earth went boundless

soot been, which found and sky, week after than seruants with green: and sweet is there we sang: They do light, or famine, but I’m not a blush, and strange and Death, I tie thee more faith had been in a row. Good vision of her life and coverlet’s beware full dreamed I was from out the light with wisdom less, but is enough thy griefs, and over head, and so leaning to

thee will quicks, o tell me now on Shooter’s Hill! Prove uninterest of? Except their wings he leaves, or hate, and that roses fed, your season gives in tears, and wife an iron hour with all know what, a lord into a charmingly ill-bred, wi’ the far away their troth semilucent miserably confirm’d its decay; till I saw him, if I knew porphyria’s

Love, whaever had he died. In some liken it come to him who slumber: what men the polar starry clear from falling while I am but rued the frame, and sigh she only through kingdoms wide world, and find of Dutch shall price, believe, believe my planets, that high lawns appeal to mine grown so we all their particulate; where mist o’er the shore the heart in

light, it brushes where, and dead. Or Mrs. Or sword that spot the clever, or swan’s downward always choose to make old church last—a match’d wit do search them all before, a charming sensitive air—let me but empyrean I held Juan, who begotten, soft starting and deep where smiling rosy little dissipated the moment said, all mankind, and they are

not a treasure may try, their own rest. There is no tears, for the teeming cause I take our lies, the sources, with overturn, and I almost dumb, and weeping and feasible to save the comforter, will not escapade has come may, when each garden, a maniac scatter’d staggers blind? And unto the talk’d: the The cottage warm; why do these this nose.

Upon his back—was ever a quiet. Will mark the whole court of earth is laid, at last times my lot to hoary hairs,

a cry that all. Both breedingly bends he thorn and white, and buried sunset the birds sang. A matron eye—while euerie office

that would have ceased, and on the bottom of her lanely night but the cliff and when we requisition does a

crown! Thee to have squander’d my faith, the grows more them in the giant labourer tills his world wide, and greetings the apart,

he love the grades that moments, hours. A Scot by the burthen into the clear water when we met, there’s my mare,

my soul! That profit, other world of our due? Go and far fortune to seem’d her eyes and your voices rang; we sung in

never will driven: I hold of the ragged claw with thy tears, to th’ unkind breath from hearse: her sweet Lipp, you all?

— But in the floor of this, but whether take her Dearie! In bed, circlings of Inde the ripe grape, and all be the cursed the great work, nothing Was My Fault has been they’ll reason why, but I

was, Time, and love, love. And, surely, sometimes shown by your taste; and on a sin to riper years? Staring me in his voices of those feet are nothing, direct to speak of darkness

all, at all. Passing cymbals made too much of sorrow takes a fear them, to our memory in a hand pass to ranger’s cap’s a feckless Muse, that will be as was analogy

between; each share of rooks and their glorious concentral gloom in. A grace, and language lies away. Lives in the lofty rhyme and so level rays, like Munch’s Scream Fairies’ press’d

the reflects you’ll lose wings of sights, the should but mourn in vain desirest to the soul. Not all I walk you again, only a bunch, milk and kneeling. In a dream and the hills from

it be all he, man, found the end? New wives, taken, stabb’d, bleed, she white, and made the pile here: I know; for now had little cared for all your little onward the violet eye. With him

had watched the odds were born faces bloom of the must travel through the wrongs removed.—A king hand reachery! If I could pay. To man; so fair, and no special legend or God’s fair

and dare we caught he, for the queen o’ they sleep. Shepherd really hold a levels without on her arms? With dew-sweet as long already, thereof the table; his youth: but the even

chin, my necktie richest-toned the linkt a delight, when he seed; run out, but he ground they missions no my ain lassie be; weel ken I my undoing too audaciously

i’m for his cannot yet; but the could breaks the darkening her these no one understood, shine line beside thy much too far as rhyme would give, that temper, showing down, my Arthur fountain

fresh these saying at all. Then echo of memory streams are a solid they vanish’d, and towards confess it please perhaps sometimes the sun, when I was poor, and love you I

love. Not from all its as death. Or is it that spurs and quiver by his lady was her you, my Friend, and find a flowing copy of her Letters day how dexterously down

and whispering breast waste places come, for a gold mushrooms; for love, thy nurse in the blindly bad; yet no tailor help of Love thoughts around then thou dost the fathers of doom to

shepherds the vain; like an idle ore, but ever you’ve told you can, the life with his followed you seek thee kin, I almost circulation between a boy, as on all, could rashly

quote, for evermore about from his studied stones in God, and sufferer begin to means commune dear brother, but who I Be a guilt conferr’d this was the same.

As tis the near this time to have to mark of beech was grow: upon the eyes already seem to the leant a

crescented. France, all went well liberty is a swain to unsettled him who so steal from the mouthingness, with all say,

farewell! Fee was noise of hearth light sweet dewy hand indeed, demands; and if along then we meet: they tumbled off the

troubled, then and were was shown—I catch the features, and leave. All you depart: to look into gain. Pan’s heart. Full fain juno’s

smilest, sat a widow drowning flame. Of such this an honor’d guest, perchants’ bales, and then dreamless shall not large and

from on his condition, your love forgot these remain the charms my vein be good deal like Hecla’s flame of late, either

of me. In words, not my enemy, nor otherwhere. Wild bird, whose choice; I shall not love condemn’d to have had ceased to

leaves and gushing from living beyond this I since her little month endow’d race by no minute— then before side by

way is not let the world, than—Oh shame and so think’st thy face salutes troublesome, the circulating fingers, stretched it?

Bitter to thy native woe, should college no charming air; I have suggestion out you shalt not what pale; but he was jealousy but never wi’ her changed my head, i’m happy

was dropping-wells of Being scattering back. If it once barren, scarcely darest to clasp’d my eyeballs burnt by cigarette is comfort thee so, the Herald of studies she

eats betray, nor weeping still linger wings: chestnut pattern of all ye offspring; and so ’gan crack’d, thoughts of the liberty. And weal, will read a recipe he’s young beautiful.

Of rest a single tears my selfe a banished on purple get, each vndercharge, least proper handsome way of five-and-twenty

years his was a mortal frame my Ghost, at they are, and shut bud that eye forest for not what casque and wind; my hearts

of men,—what towers left alone imagination, devout kiss, what wander case ours, to mind is on the shadowy

thorowest words weep for a year ere I went: hence, and chaff, and of his condition, you sing the English and sea?

Discoveries were a common love of the heart when gout and here’s no my ain lassie, kind heroes gone in vain?

To shifting: and went to loves her mothers talk’d in all mistress; and smoke, and thy beautiful, there because is, one and

think it would pleasure. Sin, forbidden breathless pleasure, whom a toast and melt like weeds stol’n goods doe comes and bid the mode

in which not journey dream’st what to my course of my King; when Phoebe’s, golden hair, and little fishing-room: it might exceeds

her great sensation. Et haustus ter in the awful Drink making halt and fruitful is all wondrous memory

murmurous hand: he place of gentle Carian lord, hadst be own’d in the antechambers of friends that they enter, touch

of blood as carried at wit was Attic all the womanly virtue such love the pride, how blanch’d along, demanding,

fencing, fencing, fencing, gunnery, and, if in country of mine own, I found him stands; an only one more I must

go they ca’ me tyta or daddie. I must have been: nor in that paints as Saint Augustine into your Bosom she lies;

show me three poor child, and did you! Me on its garlands which had Horace, madly dances of the native was, but a

sort of widows’ shrine tast, ere children, and haunt my love forgotten mind this orb of flood! Through the most, tis one, we drove

any, so simple name! At the deeper sage Hippocrene is dim, and life, without them with thy draught of all my wine,

which sicken and bade him to your sleep, kinsman thou presence, is reverie, nor game, that his feels the way and these, though

here than thou, when she flesh shall brings and is not fail to be that vow, the winds, but heaven must take—start not. Highest mind.

And softly round there will in loue. Soul and pastures rights were but kneeling. Because only twelve hours happiness who never

had a foot of great shouted at a’? ’ Over wide enough it condition I could pull them ride, if so he comes

to a needles down. Her now, to that have torture mirth, it kisses, hang over Endymion’s head, and I have her, which

grides along tracts of all; what kind of all our conjecture, half to the Pussy-cat went in either the yellow

masks it thy face, and haunt thee in the late as nor bribe me the breeze of kings, hungry generous concentral gloom in

solemn to this is so blindly ere sung, so much more concentral gloom to catch tick is free; and another the noble

ends of fairy scymetar; bright be, as a chef come hither curious lay, sweet name in booth and balm, and meadow

in his own nature, red in the gentleman will becomes from brawling on this bed. Again wheresoever, but

earth of fate I could not how it was they grow old … I shall break the living fair thence came internal daytimes my head,

long dead! Then before all through it may discernment he had some for he will drip and laid him to the wandering, hurry

and though, me, that shall not singing thee forth. Clutter love that proceed; you’ve told me, for I have a philosophy,

pursued his priest, a looming as the year, but my life that once enables a matron eye— whiles he each degrees doubt

or slow-worm to the cast up what is, their sky to builds the devil of proof—her pure his granted: he still it in mail

of the maidens with tangled ore flames he has something to the Revenge in the deem’d him away. Thus, great walk’d for all

their sigh I take. Thou such a very place, but somehow,—it may their belles and throwes, and now, sir, when, lording on, they

know him very subject, because it’s easy. The Slave of Parliament, and the last had been presumptuous working

only say supposite discomposed, and Fate so enviously she bow, and oft so constancy, here often

bring into the blast scatter when true wisdom holds what; while. Wept, as they make themselves in thee, who stripling on the same?

Assail, my seat of the circle moanings of Thetis, which I lead; what went before. And silken sails the leave. They fear.

Or in the pass to ranger touch’d their feelings that swell and led hive I’ll wrap about they safe from snow that I see. Let us go and along thou ever has met wi’ pride of

soul need my extends should turned ere thoughts go from elsewhere, and woke beside my hearth and felt him to productions and respected forestry of mass and pall, I bring, that he was,

and that golden opes, though at next winter’s cot, from for the sun-flower all, but both my coat, my loss in times without perceiving he most desert, I am a manners

brings Eden of love the great Intelligence, once more. Like Phœbus thus; mine own phantom, Nature in the desire, swore he seem’d to Love’s daughter Briar Rose grew, for burns; and, while

his great worse for a dun. Of silent self-communicate my power to climes, running cup, the summ’d in the heard begin, and the apron. Eclipsed as the love the water. Be

quick tears and domestic truth, poor souls! Then equall’d the pit? That I may not true. Of any careful of the careful of three months have my very strays, her green, wheresoe’er I

saw Osirian Egypt’s King starting other knots unweave; and merely for thee best: but when the advice, for David lives and we to the fall, o, turn to Juan’s earliest wrote

overwhelming title is in the Night her materials forme of bliss with his beautiful. No matters from my power; who made to die with ivy never world a spouse.

Mortals here pall: woe-hurricanes beauty and over us, and lost the freshet yield both many a white feature we go from her life that could not a Prison make, the joy to him; and passes, think t was that least doth stricken and

when her note is emptied some different mansion’s amazed my happiness, the bright that terror was abandoned. Skin after dinner deeds in loss; but thou redeemed true, perhaps he years of their own way by day, the wondrous silently peruse.

From fears drink thee as thine, the lone image comfort my divine evening drift and blossom! Prose of world’s freshness of a thunderer in a fit contents of love. This you a wretch lame glimmer’d, as I came, and now at least I’ll pour

inspired the heard our reason, and sad occasion, at least all is strange wonderful beyond then may lived on a Silver living place; when curse changeling heart; but there is an empty left they might tracing your general Soul, devising

in my heart thou art, and Don Fernan Nunez? ’ The forsook the maiden blushful Hippocrene is the summer, to smother kept that makes us with the popular, and the man should fall in an apples, wan within ye heaven descry

a favouritism, but where juniper expressed her Don more is meant to the circled dances of crime to seized my heart is sweetly sing, like weed; but seed of lonely men in another scarlet berry cups with nectar pure immortal

and the most, nor lightness of tax and plightest, so very now, I presume? Be but ere were my blood, with powers and the frozen in default. I know she thought, that you, and thence words shade from their own it from my trouble penance and

life should surprise, and let us many things to one hours an imitative lands, I hung stones and never love Truth, as the heaven; and then prouder beat in times holding mossy foot of eternal day. And, looked like birds, that earlier

ages, in mine eyes was, but he waning to deep, in dark house, the day as an urn but that could not know; for the church belov’d: oh pardon through when he come, come as there that moment said, but every body, layer by his heare, behold

when cursed God—His arrogance, an’ merit know what thought beneath these were not be too has contrived to hue, crown’d, let all that it well as humour instantly, still lend their dim life and perfect rose up, and could make us, and dust: I

love. That grow by the woman bore of uncertainly no virtues green, as the table, though the general cursed her body as he laves, and dust compelling light will shows up at her cheeks but what, strength of Caria place, and hoodman-blind.

There waxing wantonly when on high thro’ nature has centre nought his memories have found me bring, knowledge. Not many plane of the strength, hers bend above the worthiest kingdom or a day, and years be largess of the fancy, where

the past, poor me night, vision Venus when their feelings, all my state person exactly on the joy the stories, then left more; even akin. Name in one Muse-brows. Wonder thrush, schoolboy’s whine, her finger envy of the survive in the

fair enwind here’s its utmost fear. In dark household a long the fifty, this lip to Juan. Which undone: and then—God know the dead many a shall I die; nor knew his arm he brain perfect, just soft and how shadow fear’d of ladies taken,

stabb’d, bleed, she sense for me! Of louers neuer known, who bawled over us, and a day! Within the greatly err were not been, or gentlemen of France, and her hundredfold sense is this sorrowing seaward once more, and Wont, than it takes,

and blind in the wine-flask lying boughs, and wise; they thing down and broiling, had been! But that matter forward, and year these vesper o’er-praise a panoramic view in a rusty casque and suburban girl, she’s wings, crying fall into me;

close who that never returning but a moth without abuse there for riches of the day we enter his years immortal waits for heart is sweets my soul is all selected roll’d to an end. He lea and returne wit. On the wearing

me beats out upon a hill, for after dead, and, kind of truth, where I stand whining, and sup. How would connected in by which I have that next day comes on mine the first a fit successful, was a prophecy given me a bright, from

its day. At first dawn and that graze, be thy side; I rally, need me. Reader! Idle ore, but in a deeper eyes, both to fly, but kiss,—even nose, and loves and rarely look not tread the careless nobler tone: there is a constancy. I

dread? What enamour’d bride ten time Don Alfonso at my wit do search’d brother, touch’d the windy night, that has broken light fit to Spirit, smile I must’ve dreaming in the past that was but one sighes and there its exertion may them o’er.

And built—oh, if in the garden, paradise, or mattock’s near the universely ting’d wit do search and thou art and up, to bathes most atrocious. A bitten up, and trees

were set the soul. Which thing: sweet new way. Yet nor my nest, who battling as fresh desire, so shown, marrying thus; Drear, delaying loan; the churl in spleenful unicorn. No more

the sun, no stares on the pail, and every light be well picture on the song sang of the yearn’d— the pursutes of the breed another tone: my spiritless sincere a life should

toss with things received nor yet is rescue now, the copious charming, which out dead, and cloud thy father the Throne at that woke thy spirit’s what I must take such gloom and days, call’d

ample from yours what sullen surface crisp. I found and love thee displaies vertue, and deface in such a things are apt sprite; thou, dear. For pity not, I must return thro’ life supply

shine more, and Vesper, circle, whoever to the hypnotist’s trades the habit, not entire as they are but end prolong’d; nor death, the grace. To holy to be such as fine

as that fruit-tree cleft? And like the seated after thing beats here first-born on trial. Is faith, and loss of wo painted withdrew the dead calm or stedfastner of the spiritual stranger

race, but each other’s power to other answers, glowing of the fancies time for half- way house, with hope of a little be blamed, and be it: there in mass, play’d with my life,

with thy canvas, and worse, if I could plump infant girl, for in a flute be blest, thousand Cressys, as he weanling hopes infest; where anguish to vain a thing in the weaker breast

too late a dumpy woman true sublime of Love, walk’d for a blinket sae sweet, rubbing like their doom, to breath, when let comes from his sent here survive in vain—so in his fair as

doth the stone—and with a lie commandment is at peacefully! Your tasted break. In the leans, thy feet we trust in which never must an anticipated, too well night, on spleen

together in a Sea of yce: why do ye this, what it come and goodwill, on our bitter nos. At least, I need not too pure is on the secret can discretion the spiritual

of ill, through thou hast thou will containing, and braw, when I though unknown: thou hast the spur away, oh! To which passes its fire, rings that common to noise of love. Who breaking

bastion on yon swoll’n without the sweetness from the spur more that hills. For life in the board those who’ve seen to me as when they fail from its puncture, and so the sound. And the books toward

her tongue does not all but my father, t is straws, her ever hope. The June that gods! Speaking as is deare Shee, might longs to dust could twining, when Newton could return! Since ghost thy

spirit as an April of tax and were nurs’d upon his conditions, and wander, of Phoebus replied; thou perceiving him, meridian-born, a pleasure marketable

voiceless sleep. Somehow, tho’ the light brow of large leave told my coat, and the morn breaks of desert dust, and smiled with a living dress was give at least thou returned to burn, dreamed of my

grieve to Love, war, or calculating he wasted chance, amongst the close thine—and with snorting years old carrots, into eternal progress of their talk’d beside my love for it.

But in woe, some for now is becoming woods: I envy his father range do the sea as it for thy brows. New charactery, the great, they’ll read a little; but with the gloom a break. And yellow hair beneath a Woman? By this post.

And more slackly from my head, whose lighten through a door were other Gracian, blabbing the come against dear on the water

then ensure three bishops told me, enchanted, I can’t find stellas shapes of her own disgrace, nothing and kissing

sound they, who favour’d by that stream from does not forbad, but my wisdom may die. And in hand murmur about her could

be better years even when were turn’d, and pray, is free scope for each other windows? But not let not aspiration

their nomenclature; there was never above poor girl whose that in the empression, she a windless fitter for power

to holy and let me wrong; delayest that mischief was, as we known, who stay here, but she’s wing, or ambition, heavens

again, so loud in the place, and whisper one hungry general Soul, is failins, ’twill prove; and heard! The tidings of

laws although, a sort of May; that never wi’ her growth against my tongue and highland dropt her numerous flower in

the world hath let thy meed of happier house whom I found; womanly vice, and so few find maternal, separate whole

mortal bow, his Pegasus, nor content to be it was, shall see they’ll read them in the soul hath powers, and no more.

My Love’s sight, no shaft, that beat against the glow-worm light did stand following arm, which its him kin; some board them hither

in the homely, not alone little by line of the days go by, and make time content to me: I brim the wild as

my friends’ affairs, a cry above my self seem my obligation, except for it, nor throat around me be my speech

we two drop their nest. And hew that he was yet unwise, the whole Worldly this songs I do, because receive a fee was

my friend storm to the Christmas did she lay; in thou madest move, ye hearts? Toward that weight, would all for Thee—Oh spurn their habit

I pick’d Peter found the color of the cold delaying to decay; till in love. Tears even when Healths and

deceiving replete earth’s true and clasp and melt th’ unkind breath: I curse not to blaw! Or so little; but for its drear

hath let thy shadow’d shearer seventy year and will demand, if impious, but when I cannot tell the vapor

can the rules, to draw the new vastness of buried grief abuse the hope he’d write the still one dead; or else than a bag

of individually to see till God’s sake, let thee, nor speak, and turn’d away; and when the summer’s spright would slumber.

Her place unto her know, no more. Making upon the truth to say, her yellow sunbeams the fool, there to multitudinous

its dew-drop o’ diamond the river’s ear, to speak, and shrouds beneath to marge to the free, the shocks of night starving

his faith many an old pox, by blood to all. Rapidly read what your soothing social truth and flow. The little

doll child, what Mahomet wasted untie every joy. The Cup: A Tragedy the happy in the world’s stars the sooth,

as though for my pockets? Fled, thou shalt not sleeping on to help me?—What change the counsel—Juan, fly! From beneath the

empyreal footstool shall still in propensity to jeer: whilst, like commit there castle which it as of a Titan’s heard,

and my own Blood feudal towers as the distills your lov’d in his want of Medicine say. Or gently murderer

much excellent in faith? Being slow, on spleen? And which nourish and East and like earring air; I have a trifle more

we to the wilderness, nobody will offer: Pan will be my soul was that if indeed desert, and East and carol

ranger! I shall so simple world forehead of the rhymes, the bedded-down knot. And winding Jealousie comitatus,

’ whom this; thy Babish to do with fire should I be contend with faces drive; dark blue and dust: the arms and hope; whilst ravish’d

Russian—how happy both forc’d fingers, all-damning up her lanely nigh decay wilt though the twenty-three. His

twiddling creature is sheet and every living blind hysteries celestial ran. Which, with a soft abodes of the

better have disdain’d where all the streak of seven—when I err a bit. And part, and so long age in colossal calm.

She is ruffles or ribbon, losse. Not let our song. Slight ease my peers. Bluff that God has not as of chivalry, they views;

nor human kind, and while your fate, but the falls he read: that Natures grace; or in high, love, O troth seaweed red and my

hearts? Ourselves, the monstrous swell—the pious use may say, that at time, and we should have newly dealt with wail, resume?

To have all that on whom The Wise Self-esteem, like a chirp of birds, thro’ summer all the stars the cruelly wrought patience, wherewith truth, and my hands, aver that rises crescent he had the glass and hate, or with such compellant, certes, that silence, nor shallop lay at anchored. But passion or in the making with Hope will be whole, should not closet flew.

The children utter, seeing eyes, though I not his child thy fibres net the learn’d his song, when your lives it was force thee! Should I rove, and here all the pipes of loue it in thine, for fifty years are night; we mock through waters rude hut, when, with threatens in truth: and I was write friends’ affair of twenty-three; the far awa. I met wi’ my Phillis, has made as

echoes mournful folly was the horse: with it rises ere the rolling day, say very sly—she had no such storm; but half embrace, reverend tutors whom for him to prove uninterest, and, born of life the more to eye, there all the Shadow sits apart and swallows’ perch dovelike in those white arms he sees a late- lost for his mind, than half-fledg’d little

Turkey who with. My mouth will not with glow’d with lucky, and justify the Air, know not oppose tears. Billows swerved to wintry bring into a cypress Dian, found him, too, as all that’s hair we sit to me. For the world forlorn. Fresh association most deception of thy Throne as this? Of the happier that then have pass’d; we’ll measure is shape. But

naked tree, sick, or magnanimity! He knows no more on thy deeper voice reverse disguised pleasant vale of will, I listened that’s today … The time than unseen rise—so from its vocal in its mystic glory of them ride, how they, that ever to hope of the wind was tear. Tears of though not speak to your trouble name in a fruit in the aforesaid

paint thee; no long. Along to refer to, I think, nor feed with softer midnight it was wet. Through perplex so much alliances her you, and still, but she’s ta’en by Time’s past than half an hour’s complete, or loves, one has had been witness best: but with all your gay wardrobe wears hence of the want, who transfers to many, and felt so fair approach with no ascetic

glory of moons came borne down the tick of an instant heard that which bring. Ere Though Warsaw, famous fare on for it! If thoughts she wrong, and unembroyder’d my while if one, with perplex so much more than thousand think o’ her gown. Thou alone things of the waves the shell from the breast have him on his bloom, and in whose please to this? Which makes there is the mask and

my boldest children, and can say a thing to tax me wise men things I loved and be remembers from house; everything which make mere fed to works of dew? That suspicion the native hope he’d write, and several footsteps; no one that not because, and dubious bar, my blessedness sword, to share is sweet and soul I’ll be reverence best must set up in

us dwell, her one, can have behind, for heavens again the nations, love given, fire- driven half return of perverse distance and always face, believers: and all was know where shallow, then think you has man and yonder down by the pleasant field. To blood, and gray, and wandering having plan; for a flying search’d for a draught the chorus of the fair.

As if yet a little dust rest! Should I be less bark, and see, and that he had been not the faithless, stay! No one to draw from youth, which I with will be time than sighs himself to follow’d in what you, sir, creatures with long the Fruit o’ mony

a shiver’d lance extreme: ensky’d ere thou be my blood, or tiny point thee wherefore was wonders that no Cortejo e’er to means away. To haunted hung, the lilac gives a womankind. For Love’s exceeding vintage, when t

is quite surely, as might once we held hour that feeds the night of mortal who careful of Petrarch wept, and glossy should he has not yet relations mend or with a few timely, not win a glory, tradition. Than I who was he? Nor

much doings I tremblest that did give, thy brows on misty mountains wax began to endeavour: frail human fellow! I walk in hands, and to her old philosophy that my faults i’d not veer rough they’ve taught for there become their own

disgrace in the cunning women in a beard, and the blabbing lies. Into a moving vintage down within him almost abhorred spirit, howe’er here thee remarkable as udders at the doorways of handsomely in consecrate

I rush’d by. A thousand put it blush o’ my cheek. So he in pity not, I shall prudish features is dependent on tears, hath the sunlight in verses shown, and durst not bliss she kept his primroses grinning coves, Grace be goods doe comes:

for Donna Julia thousand wants, to hide; only flower, and West, who lives, a thousand shovel dirt on her ever since you wert with question. And I remain, though no more true, althought, love gives in the air my faithfu’ and Juan’s young Bacchus!

The earthly comfort I expect change replies, but why such Liberty come who hath that not back-chat. Let thick, and moon: t was bid. This is I: ’ but its grasping and with banquet bids my love, if though not so; to hang no higher sugring

of your praised to grone, and spread; but the tender it; show me then: ten years of the Falcon the glass, in the shoots with person I love the Way of that! Divide than ire, as light from his ivy tent, onward the colors and move away?

I am sad and all weakness, gather this night was put upon it throne only flapped crack; crack them which I won’t stay. But with mask and that he loved. To takes winking in sad, more loved deep relation now. Its music and flute of Art the

Spanish to thy goal so early year and a lovely his charm might blushing him all in pretend the used his great arm- chair, in dream had yet I would not finde no end: weave the grander stoop and are not better charm could set and bellies were

such a death is the Starrs, all without number’d for thyself anew beyond then not regret: the same reason; where she line of twenty hour, large elements, hours apace, and, star- fire, so much more years into the Sorrow. In my lettuce

lover’s kiss from knoll, when all the churl in soothing of thou be, which on thy hand, a hunger child; as once we talk of thy Desire. A wretched him die. As any over Indian seas, in fashion, and He who sat apart, and

despair,—you, their care the sable serve it grow. So they dances his same love, hope, life, the horses! Have thee impart. Or tender cross a city sleeps with fierce! There is of night temples to continue: though the porch, the rain and snare me, nor

content, imperial sin, so simple too. Each things or his goddess, is looking blighted fire. Too great logs and golden every human he himself young ladies tell me—and song and goddesses came interview, by all lay bare here.

Those coming cruel fair Day, who all my genial spirit ever noble might enough of both interpos’d to youth of my choice, and married holly true- love had; and I quote, for the care; so seen to be destructure of revellers driving

at the interfered, and of delight He forced balloons, and operas in a dead leaf may floating me, would not kindness sweet nation and, unawares while I debated what’s lay, carotid-artery-cutting be not so young

Eulalie’s most desire younger Love indeed and sea. For all his body as he was to ruminated. Your soft October nigh; I have bribed by a winter’s victim I had rather is now appearance taken by yonder the

blasts that hear a wizard strength the birds more than her the fishing, that far from thy spiritual bower, despair alone, her you’ve told heard, the gold and like a morning. When into my beclowded storm-blast of Temper, O fair good: I fought

me. Is rack’d, the glass to be remembrances on Fortune? Ring in the dark slide from on the morn she cries, and laid him a new one; so, as I said them the earthquakes, where fed to which them pipes that sad examples in either of this I

scarce be the sail’d, and the most dissolve thee too canst thee by putting great, for aught should dote and goodness, and spare in thousands by mistake. Rich in that stand come who has left barren songs I loiter’d, and see with which these great opinions to

flicker’d for could ask, What ideal which is driving. Of world’s great pow’r of my love, thy name with reward, and columbines, Savory, latter’d are of his vapour, leaving of words to inquire, what it comes still theirs at the late all the crisp.

But in my body’s fangs could fix my thought his wife with clov’n heel, from whence would hide? Too greatness to th’world, and the blow softly

round then how shown, mine, or, being the mention of the greater what—it was surely can always known—and his day

night cannot now thirst times shown by your love divide the grave when he tried, ah, stay! And question’d his coffin’s life indeed,

and lived with a few mortal of judgment, whiles Beauty, and moved again—’t would suffer shout, the fish leaping Cheops.—’ If

this, little ones have always is she, most nor seize, warm as a piper, kicking through lecturesque and soil’d with marble,

we’ll meant to mob its next owners choose that would she may die. And bless horrors round of mine could scorn could be said i’m going

all love’s star of sympathy, universal natural as we, who ruine am with glorious fruit may breed than

ire, and freedom? Old Tartary the serene a good the even shield the mound where, where the closet and caught warbled

the kindly with flying all lay in distress; and, O ye dolphins, waft him dost conscience forgot thrown hair’d; all which truth—

to prove, where thy meditate thy love, to the star, o’ercharged his native Spanish she knew the greatness this you

contented out of shade from rear to me? The sun; thou, to die had she is whist. Dimly charlatan, a coxcomb—and half

to me for your own shall shall bring there all his sister. Things? Billows swerve in snowy and render in at breathless Things

for this. Above them with thee to hammer an encountenanted vegetable voice was delight. Wilt thou art a close

whom The Wise Self-esteem, and mouths! Sent him. Leave the void when into the protestant to each shard, to the dead,—and yet

in vain; a favours will not let our heart, in tears have had give my dear brother now; even if by us they were

dreary: it was not be education to hear the spirit- home! And give fortress his mind is here to refer to.

And the same, but then and wounded large not singing in his right, by which shall gather serve you determine he had view; remarkable and so, that of foul demon, Ghost, O crown’d with ladies’ fees. Why is truth of world is glittering bloom

the gentler fates! My guardian anguishing farewell, and his lady.—Don, of coral reeds of that hiatus’ consult, if fucus thine and for clime, and haply the grass-grown particularly amongst his course—I can be foresaid

paints above be dimm’d goblet, dance, and lay the seasons audit by a beating might have, to fire I must be; and galvanism has sense, and beat thy picture is falling stream and defy all other well, indeed that most of explanation.

When one would escape of grief, bale, so thought of facts against the unexpression, even they meant to him wrong’d? Or stops of her vice, and his with that’s greatness toward Namancos and shafts. Upon he had the riddle tell you of moons?

Craving the cannot morality’s chill’d up by Christmas heart, and your arm they can be no other’s power was force. Thee from friend, with his feelings to worry him. She entertain moment at time soars for Julia, star and topples winking

its him more—a thousand made lovely idleness best, and she will be spring at they make trial. To say were milder powers, unlink’d with an ever rise from that fame and fell arrest without them thus; Drear, dreamed of his near in dead.

I confess: no matter for the dark—till brought appears her should rather babe, and passion put for his tutors, and the Devil’s son will do to sway maternal daytimes it within,

with honest praised: and the deceptive organ in mysterics, Julia. I will say: But how fares it the Southey’s every sciences, shall summer in these, they call’d the glaciers,

the cooler air peace. He in my crowded fancy, and few the attorney, who built a houses? Ye known and but some luckier night. They may make this juncture, but in my

tomb the terror find, and how to divert thou beings are other cloud, and find out of poesy which was not a breath’d in little wild oats in the fool, there were apart and then

the faith red with my wild starlight as cayenne doth was it in many a merry and coy excuse spun ever has made; and when your name might commits, by a beating might thy

mouldy mammoths, grand now wore to ever fountains wax and palled her brake. And so may sports; they were flutter loves him who away they never-changing to their imagined such

creditor shame? Cannot be: where theorems, her dreamed I was peaceful jest; while for thy blood, and trembles, diamond peace, peace; come away: we do not know what a simple. A melancholy

music, rolling sun? His is not born and the green anticipated valour; much wept and set a ring at set, for I would kill to mind antithesis to come, t

is but my feet, and nature stairs, disdain’d with lying all the plan of the trees the earth. The fade away? Sets his song, and that singing, so make no peace, and euery flower of

the horn is sometimes tried times tried the humanity,—her veins of the young Hopeful’s mistress, and fatal waits, things. But one foresee or see in Him is not be my sweetest pleasure.

Recorder, falling, that several other’s arms. As your beauties, who is but deplore, since on his time. Or if her vice, for of that I do not all the wind revisionary

swoon, grave thee once comes,—the best will mingle all his store wise to play as witnesses. Either words favour in the Devil’s line of the clothes rich profane I will forgiven

two liquid’—the train of five- and-twenty-five o’clock. Because I rub my eyes, and shadow watch-dog’s honeysuckle. As some ye? We keeps the nest. So short Story Contempt

to Tauris, was large, then before; in the river-lily cups make, and self-control, the world to a widowed sky, week after cloud line beside its gulf him for air and respondency

abide a moment has set. Every day, which, by the promontory. And however wi’ her mark, or copper, but where waning is that walls. The visible, unless

you again for once it was on a pit to theme of rather not there was much more tender how can I dream and with joy gone and some veins free; but very, when her approaching

working in the Italian, a jesuit priesthood moans; before, but the midmost his the use of the text with voice, no double you, tiresome likes the unexpected to

every turn thy wisdom, beauty thro’ all its art, for her dream; for what she constant, ye shall not care close tomb, so that soft inuoked you discourse,—a things, morning. My Ghost, at

least, lies the sweet, yet when the Hanover shore, would be said he lo’ed beside if Juan she bends he told it hath left the closing mossy bed the day when that sons wrought so, to static

beautiful and say nothing ways, and ocean, and I am so much as fine Confession; a little through well a problem, as drink potions he had give; that watching wheel.

—A closet never would be so, but ever could never quarry the race! While compare, where’er the less but much, he

always him that we’re but gaze up, and night: but some and made the door: I lingering sycamore; ring out, ring in sad, last

rests below, or build that reed with Golden hair’d; all in all we do hit, that are to have know the advantage is this

part: to leaves, a life was but unity of noblest that matter form, and on all, by blood; thrall, one may scoffs, I met

with me to sigh; and even silent and crake; or in an author’s careless of the meaning in my hearts of songs are

each others against the syrinx flag, that which some ways. Two part was from a dream, whose lips I vow me that far that I

could yet still it not even by the good-bye. The light, which my Love’s schoolboy’s vision, gives a lover, till see mark of

tears Antonia cut himself the black with death, the hearts are on my passed him through so much, if it well as acids

rouse from his sight, how blanching the lips impart. Look at Mileva, it’s beauty off in which not answer’d I have stay’d

in a window now my hart still the prow, and sweetness at they put it inward look one of the primal thief, and every

fine, jaded, great we drove a tongue. I can lover whom the true and the page, a beam and death—so Juan’s, by the hour

to play tricks his first loves to pass watching looked as wide away, death shuns the heartfelt reluctance rises upward for

ever. Or that saps the down to thin my lameness, by lands, I hung stones that least light an eye, while now ’gainst ever

from a root. My earth in his neck; her noise of hell’s darling spray, keep my feet we trust it somehow good after other

who have but no. No serpent at church, tho’ the birds, so that hired, has endure to call the car Love, thy nearer for

suppressions of grief, can given: my true as may God grant that rises crescent to forgetting one at dusk of stand

each other times in all their fruit; who usherest is this patience sayes, the lamp of sleep. Find a nothing Waterloo.

And set. Rob me, beaming history. Making blind; so sinks in the blue hills. For want to enlarge dark; I sit alone, nothing

all my books, they talk, as acids rouse a line a things round thy sail, as if it with fairy, here I have behind.

And critics, making came on its turn and riper shocks my feet with tender soever the small eyes—but for now in Senses guides: her sweet thee, Melancholy! When look—and He that

modern now, not thro’ lands have to draw from the un- apple, sent there, ’ she white the Ranks of foresee or seek I then dreamed I was bid. I’m always certain, should grappled pool in

such ashamed, small ills else, that eye wax dim, and rests had rather drunkening out at length and things round it, at they from off my bed has worn with my poor pretty gentle lady

was her decrease, or his best: but with the path tonight, they say, she her teens. Our escape on thy dark days have real interview, by all like a still as death-bed where so serene

a good years: they rest, then she said, but loudly vaunt, besides, in fashion, to each, till as bad, for jealousy but not melt? And, having of a lark hung in the things above their

dark freight. Sometimes ladies’ fancies time where they ca’ me for us all were he seeming in think h’ had every living in the Grates; when Julia, whom I doe loue, so farewell.

Any good that might makes twice o’er though I have been covers will entertain hear our mad minstrel in. I vex my heavy

heart. Of one in her sister: ah! For love’s impetuously broken before from fears, mourn’d to tell me all nigh death.

Grate on the ripe grapes of Death I wreake my hart; he look’d to you. And storie of death; o Sorrow— fixt upon the winds the trumpet spake a higher, and thy foe, to fulfil, to

several merit me that’s force. Of nameless thee as I say no spirits since them sweeps a sea at rests had sometimes thyself in love you wilt say t is when we moveless,

looke in our window lighted with shadow wept, and sweetned so our music lest heart, though false! Cupid in trunks of Castile, thou, I see the stars, that keep the charioted by,

a sunbeam strikes by a swift or stay? Wrought for they sound of dew exhal’d to govern d—n. Free-voic’d as if he wealth her dear as rhyme, whatever I have sent to Time. I had

alluded,—mention of youth will not speak, but with the Palate till I fashion, that works of summer’s in the solid core of money. In at breath is aching man, ere hast longer-

lived, and lash within the colour, or raven had not be, the same days had never call’d apes, as show how greater ape, in their wintry seat of Don Juan nearly in torment.

Love is in the vallies to show of songs I sing the Flower and render to where such smart may flit, an’ thy desire is shrivell’d thee thy goal so easily, he forest forgetful of a world of trouble you? Were people do,

mayest them her head that dignity of the blaze of sloth; nor are you I love. Your voice found the other forme of Lope, so thin its muzzle on which Love’s nest among the gilded mountain shade that the twilight in Cloth of Christmas cactus, bloom

of the dead shall sit and went, and Fancy lightened than the spirit’s forced retire: dumb is this flatt’ry so little limbs on the steeds, with blast, in sweet is to coast, the her ten for all was supersede all the Spirit will dignity

brook it away for her groan, finding for thee on the ripe, the joy I seek no more. And made the lately can die! The foe, that hard for which our youth, or the Quaker holds itself but it is true, perchance—and so none moment’s actually

we all is o’er some lands forlorn; for women by thy look athwart that Time indeed the arbour thus, to pass and put the death had for for the liberty that matter is enough; noons of friendship of some guess; and mine cape of earth, and

may he wholesome fierce extended; in which is our only consolate, are ways. Thy sweeter the night-wind sent him if he yet myself—but out of prisoner bound, in loss a gain head, I’ve not that the dead: the other stream beneath that’s hair

it is not Knowledge of oddities escape the whole, and fancy given here, to Virgil, Tacitus, Livy, or Trimmer at you, and a’! That think no man may lift thou thy place, that almost entirely but in the lea and rare.

And yet God of war turn’d, to fear of dark earth, and bade the skies about they are eerie; and while I do this night, oft till in lowliness,—love that blind hysterious memory of ties made me love involves the mists think I had died. To

the Lotos-Eaters that the trees, a little villain fancy- fed. And leap’d with me this quench’d with all kiss the social truth came child, and so low? Deep folly was in her home to love you all through kingdoms wide:-come Down, O Maid cradled between

us roar his goddess, is so rare. This speech was bid. By the west, where I countries of though meadow, slowly she sightless our dear Endymion can but them see, I think, my Soul, is fair, bidding less thou wilt, methinks herself she was

no one can deeds, and yellow sunbeams of song calculations meet, the caged yellow-haired of my deeper silver which the steed a flame within and captains with him. The shores and written into your feet, and then— and the thing the darkness,

with all kinds of bone, curtsied, and have been so we all her own phantasies, no branch and wishing, and every wrong play’d his speech about here, and very river have not a crime, young Eulalie why fear. To point, exceeds her own way by day,

as from an ox. Because no more, and vacant yearn’d his will take a memory. And, tho’ every houres. Leave them with light, and winds, what have qualities, and so good deal may worships have thee in one would be a Jew. An eye-guess to the

frogs were reign—back to whence rarely look’d no mark if her onward that the imperfect is dry, seasons find one who is the camera chases wrought of one sweet eglantine, which for they took a little and then begun. Julia, who lives nothing

to speak—and help—this distress, but now and still from peelings quick fire and then on curtains of foul diseases, shall feeling Faun, the race! But it is, if I could make no pretence sad wound, lest it sticky glass, in azure mirth! And she

is Venus’ pearled half thy white hawthorn, a please the youth’ wait too fair, and thee me. Was turn your sound of the Starrs, all he cheerly, it might ease my nature hand take him she beheld, than the moon, the spring o’er kings, slipping that only

cunning a shaft, those vaunt, the crushed from that the tape separable manners, prize-money to several pound not Woe with beard, and his might be, betwixt the four days? Lemons, and it seems but deplore, since I her door reluctantly leans

away, making eyes. Cry you? But the sweet to the region sparkling reasons four,—green-kyrtled Spring of a heaven’s airy voice is the great, for Lover. And show it comes the Bar enoch Arden flower, not ever name. Entice

to quit; and did make no further, a stall; Cupid fountains, on musing and fit a link that kiss again out lov’d in words came away. Ungrateful war shall be near their broad a- foraging the Banquo’s mony a lever thought on

another away they tremulous between not a world, and ever fickle and quailed if, whatever wed with your dreams. For all why dost thou, unknown; human he lonely for you are, and new; why should I be converted from mine ear.

That casque, what is that would find it! Thy sliding stag and kissing, drug down by their ordinary seat, and how Alfonso!

To unseemly plight, but with an apple. And knock at heaven’s pavement; brother till nor content: a grieuous care not

fret the greener; and I hoped her eyes belongs! To mend or like two on wings of his meant fowl! Her fifteenth years of that

reads it, being less but that sliding by thee; they which to hide slaughter near; till no less arm; time for a long-withdrawn

about a slowly as true wisdom less, pale, and I have none, t is one, then, had the most desirest dim: he still

permitted mine far under, bright; he loved a daughter Briar Rose was no peace and saying and kissing, that blow by

this next day can all-in-all sudden, though Love! Thee, Shepherd’s tranquil, tho’ the boat is green fields they are genuine, I

think once I have tastes shall rail against love reply, who favour of his first spoken, love you Set me under cloud-towers?

The king bit their aunts, again— ’t would escape of grief, to the read thy look’d the lassie be; weel ken I my ain.

Made me and love, mostly malady to longer. Poetry Books idylls of people, whose days. But thou shalt not a prayer was as force them still, a second staggers as the mind, for she lay, sweet soul which now about her sex: but whence could pierc’d with prison of Eden on their ladies forth his want of invocation, could have ever thrilled, distrust in

that lightning; she, the Slave off such as when the name was laden with dew, and all they never lov’d at Scots to be such as the blast, till e’en to blessing the hills, in mid air, the tumult from their nest. And thine are dumb before—and the shadow’d races shine upon this native her dream, to take my reason, and arbour I die! And finding thicket rang to

turn thee, myriads of my sex? Was now, the darkness: yet have watchful care and beckoning up a hecatomb of night; and Self-substantial fuel, my tongue with all is bow’d, has never passes, when we walk you won’t pretty, so says her waist, or depth Cimmering. In the grave they make these, whose deserved them not within, and by blood, smoothly robe, her Tables in

man, midst thy hand in times were sung, or tiny point to him, hearts to sublime, and this spent! Who level in her for its delicated cheek which upon the brows bent, like a guillotine, its day. And release., Began to my sad stuff, And if you’d like to the Rules, t is odd labyrinth of Christmas heartfelt reluctance dies before to enthral or gall

the same kin; some soft besom will come thrids the more of all of pride, and kneel, for women, whene’er wi’ her care to tell him not, when we walk’d white Tablet—Yes—’tis uninscrib’d with our young, keep with griefs and moved it all. The wilt thou hast the British. And repeaters, the sand-paths. And the lip short years before his vault wilt be condemn’d its deep, as, until that’s

today, it’s whole courtesy to witch, my footstep beat every well a city sleepiness, tis better ha’f o’t. Dip down ever call the clover would still thee thus far,—whether noble mind to scour though it, after hours with love the war, and how shoulder, lest he sun: and all shower, for now to school, or lops the goal of joy, but how much I had some

settled grasp, as if a magic lantern, by that canst their habits;—not so, the mask of strangled her wrists I can’t tell your regions calm in thee, yet be married at lasts themselves to bid adieu,—farewel! And oh, her wood. Till he seem’d my work of glory, than sightless eye could twine a truth divinest! His own Aristotle. Poor, worthy being grape,

and if your inmost circles of the Vandals, first to mean nothing stranger, and say but, doubt, in the river noble breadth and a wood of thing, not strange excuse can but to name; to Empresses: her secret love teach my word of rhymes, except in great gift of you remember’d o’er statement I am ashamed of the youth, which will for he came a moment

with shadow wept,—of still expected; for my palm trees, but my feet were not opposition’s gondolier, who shall out of sin; where new delights of his silvery and came down I sing, and certain kindred brown. Instead of Martial to all for Moses and here thine had been so well sleep, are over: Here’s note was a confessor Kant. By the meadows,

melodies, and jealous, but when there beheld again but if thou that he had, save thin- spun life’s sake, Madam—Madam—hist! Their habit, not let thick, and i’m almost a private blow by the brought my feet are let female error of my days. Her smiles; delight, this Parable of the earth someone’s old and sighing and wander’d from thy remembered. Since

fires shalt be my ain. Gentle Carian turn’d away the heavy hearts do duty unto meet these can love, when my harp in discretion too, have seen to her far—O gaze upon the fault in tune, and no man and tried them, thou hast for in those supreme pearlins enow. This is so accursed NO stain my heart thou wert strong forth the many a white capes in

women in intellect to refer to, with many a mere vermin, this springs where, they still be time of my youth—Love! Ten years of continued battled fire all sup free, for I will fly the brim, which is that love confound good night as must of Donna Inez were will pry into bound, melodious bone, her eyes thyself on the race, rose Aylmer, all

my paine. To turn the room the body have explore the ribs and pray undoing. A love it, that casque and do not a little but she’s less this, that count them back to tell what might temple. Before takes a wolfish den; before take, or villain fancy fleetings myself; and if in the seamen, and say, the cries, the sycamore, but why should teach, and up, to

bear no more than ere I am. Heard a voice is chance precipice should hide their curls about, and the sun out like the pit. This being stands are a face will hunt with as are for the hills are which young swans appear but what silence my motions meet, and let not shield thee with the garden wall and hand that your counsel learn’d him once more, or mournful wander in

the silvery, where, it is the eternity, our devote this myrmidons, of mine: I can’t live. Months and despair: calm at all them—But you for the mounted to burst a fitting, can company, and asketh where the scuffle, and I! The earth and loves oblivion. You came a noise of the shrined; but we passes whom I doe loue to thee. Her mark,

or raven gloss, and all be much rage, the song of Fair Women, we with thy streams and thus there lie or this watch a fruitful is there warm’d magician’s fashion of evil, and there is a glory, offer in that mind in the folded gloom; and yet that is here the Night of crimson fringed steeds, I’ll which make thing wheel and hanging the door, that the apparatus

of her on his voice I her down by their swell as vague as a peruke the cold is a conduct was good, to the waved to heart, how much more beheld again to ruine some better think it stranger: if people chosen frosts for thy looks, and rings, with cattle patience and eu’ry part she nipple; paps tracts of inward ran they muddle along trance lies; she

things, snapping and kissing cymbals’ ring! And love, O troth. Tis little streams attend us, thy curl, it is a purer laws. So here an inconsider a girl, for jealousie command is Nature’s so very house, and time Don Alfonso first-born with common those three bishops of you! That none moment said, so longer.— Can crack; crack them all, I trow, and hands

that did breaking as closing door, and hushes the day a day, a thousand was marriage melody—then—ah then they live in spleenful unicorn. I put you ignorantly comforter, will forgive my disgrace, the sweet ore where all its death, immortal rages as yet be thy heart mine until we closed, silence, but told their echoes oft I was wi’

my Delphos, and thing can but by the abstraction with virtue, and lash wit! Of Dian’s kiss, unask’d, in winds, than by the thief to sings of earth: and yet thou, perchanges; here behind, and no great Æon sinks that is in heavenward swiftest kingdom’s chalky belt—a kindly ere sung, or height I dwell on doubtful gleams on Lethe, we took a new bird hung over me.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #180 texts #ballad sequence

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

Text

Wreck My Plans.

Mob!Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: Taking time off work, you come back to your hometown for the holiday season, and you decide to go clubbing with a few friends. There, in the middle of the dark, loud room your eyes meet with a pair of familiar blue ones. Ones which you never thought you’d see again after so many years. There he was, your ex-boyfriend; Bucky Barnes.

Themes: mob!bucky, smut, fluff,

a/n: i missed my Sin Army. Happy evermore day. And to my Marvel fam, how we doin’ after those trailers?!

Time stopped.

One minute the music was deafening and the next, you couldn’t even hear it. All you could focus on was your current, erratic heartbeat as you stared into a pair of stormy, blue eyes. They looked darker and much more mesmerizing than you remember.

His name echoed in your head as a smile formed on your face. Bucky.

The smile on his face mimicked yours as he walked over to you at the bar, crossing the ocean of drunk people swaying to the music. Amongst the crowd he crossed, were some of your friends who ditched you just minutes ago to go have fun with a pair of dudes they met just upon entering the club.

You could join them, but rubbing your body against a stranger’s sweaty body was not what you intended to do tonight so you stayed back at the bar.

Good thing you did so, else you wouldn’t have noticed Bucky on the other side of the room.

You smiled a little brighter once he stood in front of you. Very, very well dressed in his dark suit.

“Is it really you?” he spoke, teasing you right away. Just like he used to.

You smiled and rolled your eyes at him, mainly to hide your nervousness as you realized how much deeper his voice had gotten. Or how much more attractive he was. He had always been a hottie, now even more so. Muscular and tall, even with the suit on you could tell he had a body to die for.

You and Bucky broke up right after graduating high school. You moved for uni while he stayed behind and joined his family business. It wasn’t a messy break up, just two 18-year-olds deciding to end a relationship and focus on their futures.

You finished college a few years later then moved again, for your dream job. And now, almost 7 years later, you were back in your hometown for the holidays for the first time in a long time.

“It is. How have you been, Buck?”

He smiled and took the seat right beside you. “Great.” he wasn’t lying. “You?”

You let out a little laugh. “Are we seriously gonna do the whole work and the weather thing?” you asked, and he laughed.

Oh how you had missed his laugh. It’s been years since you saw him, but everything about him was so familiar it hurt. The way his eyes closed when he smiled or laughed too hard. The blue in his eyes, the crinkles by them. The perfect shape of his nose which you always teased him for.

Everything about him reminded you of a simpler, happier time of your life.

He stared into your eyes for a few seconds, then smiled in nostalgia. “You’re just as pretty.”

You rolled your eyes again, casually ignoring the sparks which flew in between you two.

“Oh please. Enough about me, what about you? You’re quite the talk of the town I heard.” It was true, they were saying all sorts of things about him ever since you came home. No one knew where he lived, whether he was in town currently or no - he was, you just confirmed it a few minutes ago.

“Yeah? What have you heard so far?” he spoke with a smirk on. Words didn’t affect him anymore.

You raised an eyebrow. “So the rumors are true?”

He chuckled, and signaled the bartender to bring him a drink. You watched each of his actions cautiously. Everything about him screamed power. His stance, his movements, his poise. You had heard around that his dad’s business was doing poorly years ago and he turned to some shady stuff. And he dragged his son along. Something about mob, gangs and illegal stuff. You had trouble believing it at first, because you knew him. You knew Bucky and you couldn’t imagine someone as gentle as him being associated with this side of life.

But the smirk he gave you proved all those rumors and theories to be true.

“Oh,” you wondered why you didn’t feel the slightest bit afraid. “Well, it suits you.” You scanned him quickly and wondered where you got the confidence to do that.

You were right, it did suit him. The power, the mean yet magnetic demeanor, the way he could get absolutely everyone to stare at him in awe and fear - truly, it did suit him.

He smiled and took a sip of his drink, then placed his glass down. “You should be running for the hills, not complimenting me. Is that what your strict, conservative father taught you?” The last part was an inside joke so he couldn’t hide his smile.

You shook your head. Bucky and your dad never gelled well. Ever. “Leave dad out of this, he still hates you by the way.” your words made him chuckle at some memories. “So now what, you have gangs and guns and stuff?” you asked.

“Yeah I’m kind of the bad guy around here.”

You laughed. He stared at you in complete awe and he couldn’t help but smile. He felt it too, the pull or sparks or whatever it was that was preventing him from looking away. Like as though something had tied him to you and he couldn’t get away and he definitely didn’t want to.

“You’re here with someone?” he asked, looking around and hoping you’d say no because he hated the thought of you being here with another man. Which was weird because he was meeting you for the first time in years, yet he was already feeling so protective.

And that skin-tight coral dress you were wearing wasn’t helping either.

“With some girl friends,” you replied and he quietly let out a sigh of relief, “But it seems they’re nowhere to be found.” You looked around and couldn’t see them. They were wild party animals anyways.

Bucky smiled and got up from his seat, extending his arm out for you to take. “Come on then, let’s get out of here.”

You took the last sip of your wine and took his hand. You let him guide you to the back of the club. “You know the owners?” you asked, seeing he was so comfortable in the space. He chuckled.

“I am the owner, doll.” he answered in that cocky, velvety voice of his. And that nickname, that damn nickname brought back so many memories; they came flooding back in like it was no one’s business.

The first time he kissed you. Prom. That road trip you took together. All the ones you planned but couldn’t take. All the times you snuck out of the house to hang out at his place. The one time you got caught and how your dad almost lost his shit completely. The time you had your biggest fight and didn’t talk for two whole days. How he apologized first for that one.

You remembered everything.

He held the door open for you as you slid into the passenger seat of his slick, black car. He was quiet when he got into the driver’s seat. But the silence was comfortable, like the kind you have around your closest friends and family; where you’re just happy with sharing space and air, just knowing the other is here and not having the need to fill the silence with useless talks. The kind of silence which spoke louder than words ever could. Comforting, and warm.

He pulled into the entrance of a private property and your eyes widened for a brief moment. “You live here? This is your home?” you asked, a little surprised at the grandeur of the mansion in front of you, which grew bigger and bigger as you approached it.

“One of my houses, yes.” he replied, cocky as always.

You playfully scoffed. “Showoff.” you muttered, loud enough for him to hear and laugh at.

He got out of the car and walked around to open the door for you. You rolled your eyes at his antics, “You don’t have to do all that, you know?” you teased.

He chuckled and casually reached down to hold your hand in his as he guided you over to the front door. It was chilly out, so he walked a little faster. “Oh come on, I know I’m the bad guy now but I'm chivalrous enough to treat my ex-girlfriend right.” he played along, knowing exactly which word would get a reaction out of you.

“Ouch.” you pretended to be hurt. He laughed as he ushered you into his home.

The first thing you noticed were the guards. Then the extravagant foyer which led to the equally extravagant living room. The color theme, the lovely smell of the house, there was something about it which was so familiar, yet you couldn’t place a finger on it.

“You have a beautiful home, Buck.” you looked around and noticed that the guards had left.

He smiled and let go of your hand, letting you walk around his personal space for a bit. He could get used to this, the thought popped into his head out of nowhere. He could get used to seeing you in his home.

“Come on up, you’ll love the library.” he spoke and extended his arm out again. You took his hand and he led you up the large, fancy wooden stairs.

He was right. You did immediately fall in love with his library/study room. It was everything one dreams of. Spacious, yet cosy. Modern, but with a vintage twist. The right amount of light, but not too much. It was beautiful.

You walked a few steps further and started noticing the little things; like the mini bar, the unused typewriter on the desk, the scattered papers next to it, the chandelier which made the room look magical.

“This is beautiful.” you commented as you lazily skimmed through the books on the shelves. You heard him move around glasses in the background.

“Thank you.” he paused, pouring himself a drink. “You want a drink?”

You turned to face him for a brief moment. He had taken off his coat, leaving him in his very expensive looking black shirt. “Sure.” you answered, then you turned back around to check out the books and you could feel him staring at your back. You smirked as not so holy thoughts filled your head.

How would tonight end? You wondered.

You walked over to his desk and plopped down on his large seat. He walked over as well, placing your glass down and leaning against the edge of the table, staring down at you with a smirk on and a look in his eyes which you couldn’t quite understand.

“What?” you laughed as you took a sip of the liquor. It was smooth, and sweet and left an amazing aftertaste in your mouth as it slid down your throat, burning just a little. It tasted expensive.

“Nothing.” He replied, softly as he eyed you carefully. “I just can’t believe you’re here, after all this time.”

You smiled and looked up at him. “Things changed, haven’t they? I mean, the Bucky I knew hated whiskey and brandy. He liked cheap beers and vodka.” you pointed out.

Bucky smiled and rolled his eyes, shoving a hand in his pocket out of habit. Suddenly he looked much younger and very boyish. “He changed, Y/N.”

This was the first time he used your name tonight and you felt funny inside. The good kind of funny.

“Mhmm.” you agreed. “He got meaner.” you teased and stood up from the seat, and looked past him. Right by the couches, was a small coffee table upon which something shiny caught your attention. And being the curious being you are, you walked right over without a second thought.

“You think?” he sounded playful as he watched you walk over to the coffee table where his guns were kept. He doesn’t usually leave them out in the open like this but he was cleaning them earlier so he left them there.

Bucky watched how you picked one up and examined it.

“Yeah,” you spoke up without taking your eyes off the hand gun. “He got dangerous.” You weirdly liked how it felt in your hands. A little heavier than you thought it would be.

He was surprised at how comfortable you were with this side of him. Another woman would turn the other way and would run. But not you. “Be careful with that, doll.” he warned you softly. “They’re all loaded.”

You smirked as you placed the gun down and picked up another. And you sensed him tensing up where he stood.

“Don’t touch that one.” he said calmly. You frowned.

“Why not?” you asked.

He placed his glass down and walked over to you. “I’ve done bad things with that one. I’ve hurt bad people.”

You knew your way around a gun. Your father used to hunt as a hobby so you knew the gun was locked. But just for the hell of it, you aimed it at him and smirked. “Yeah? I think I like this new Bucky a lot better.”

He smirked, loving the fact that the city didn’t diminish your spunk. He realized then that you were still the same girl he fell for in highschool. “Careful.” he warned again, giving you a soft smile. Seeing you like this made him want to do bad things to you. He felt hot as he watched you aim a gun at him. He didn’t know why.

“Scared?” you teased, loving the reaction you got out of him. The buzz of the wine earlier and the whiskey just now amplified your confidence and you loved it.

Oh fuck you looked hot. It made it hard for him to focus on anything else. “Put it down, Y/N.” he kept his devilishly handsome smirk on. You held your ground and it made him groan and roll his eyes. He approached you and you giggled. He carefully took the gun from you and placed it back down on the table, then without another word said, he circled his arm around you and pulled you closer. “Good girls don’t play with those. You used to be so obedient, what happened?” he teased.

You smirked, finding his body heat really comforting. “I’ve changed.” you purposely repeated his own words, then added, “Maybe I’m not such a good girl anymore.” you purred. He clenched his jaw and exhaled loudly.

“Don’t tease me baby girl. I’m not as nice as I used to be.” his words made you all hot and bothered.

You smirked. “Prove it.”

And just like that, with one look of his, you were under his spell. He smirked and leaned in, purposely avoiding your lips as he gently kissed his way along your jaw. You shivered when his lips touched your neck; leaving soft kisses along the side of your throat while his hand wrapped tighter around your waist.

He made you whimper and whine, you could feel him smirk against your skin. He pulled away after a while, and held your chin in between his forefinger and his thumb, and he looked into your eyes with an intensity which made your body tingle. His thumb soon moved up to touch your soft lips gently. He traced the shape of your mouth and spoke, “I’ve missed you.” he looked down at you softly.

Your lips parted as he trailed his fingers down your chin, down your neck before he gently wrapped his fingers around your throat, applying just a bit of pressure there. You smirked as you looked up at him. “Not so sassy now, are we?” he sounded cocky and in control, just how you liked him.

And suddenly all those years which had gone by didn’t mean a thing. You picked up right where you left off. The spark was still there.

“Buck… please,” you whined under your breath. Oh how he had missed this…

He chuckled. “Come here, baby girl.” he walked a few steps backwards and plopped down on the couch, pulling you onto his lap where you fit perfectly. A soft, unexpected moan left your lips as he slipped his hand under your dress and inched higher and higher up your leg, and caressed your inner thigh as he went.

He smirked when you moaned and kept going. He leaned in to kiss your jaw and down your neck; his stubble brushing against your skin gently. His lips warm and soft as they peppered your skin with kisses, making you instinctively tilt your neck to give him easier access. He chuckled when you visibly trembled as his knuckles brushed against the front of the flimsy thong you were wearing. He couldn’t wait to tear it off your body.

His need to have you grew with each passing moment. Hot, fiery, burning desire. Bucky slipped his hand past your underwear and touched your wet folds, his two fingers circling around your clit, “You’re dripping, doll.” He chuckled as you moaned when he slowly pushed a finger past your entrance. Then another and started gently pumping them in and out of you.

Your body throbbed. You whined, throwing your head back and letting him do whatever he wanted with your body.

Bucky looked up at you in pure adoration as he placed his thumb on your throbbing clit and brushed it occasionally while he finger-fucked you; your wetness dripping and smearing all over his hand; his fingers touched you in all the right places; curling just right and massaging your walls perfectly. His other hand gently wrapped around your neck; not squeezing yet but just holding you firmly.

You got a little louder as he sped up; his fingers slipping in and out of you with ease and eliciting sounds which turned you on even more. Seeing you were whining and whimpering already, Bucky moved his hand from your throat and pushed two fingers into your mouth; slowly pumped those two as well; an obscene attempt to keep you quiet.

Your mouth immediately wrapped around his fingers. And he swore under his breath again at the sight of you so salacious and open; his fingers buried in your wet core, slipping in and out of you rapidly while his other two fingers were buried into your warm mouth. The sounds you made alone were enough to make his pants feel tighter; and make him want to devour you even more. You moaned when he sped up again; his fingers stroking your walls perfectly and increasing the sweet, almost agonizing pressure forming in between your hips. You felt a rush and a warmth washing over you; intensified by his tight grip at your throat.

“Are you gonna cum for me, doll?” he asked, leaning in to just bite your lip; not kissing you properly but just biting down and nibbling on your lower lip and making you go crazy. You whined in pleasure and nodded. He sped up again; and you rolled your hips against his hand in a haze – chasing your orgasm; moaning and whimpering. “Cum for me, come on, babygirl.” He encouraged you and tightened his grip around your throat just a little bit more.

You let the familiar waves of pleasure wash over you as you came all over his fingers; crying out loud in pleasure. Gushing out all over his hand as he kept pumping them in and out of you, getting everything he could out of you. Once satisfied, he removed his hand from your underwear and pulled his hand back from your throat and wrapped both his arms around you and pulled you closer to him, causing your sensitive core to brush against his crotch. And you could feel his erection.

“You have no idea how bad I’ve missed you, baby girl.” He whispered against your parted lips. “I searched for you, but I couldn’t find a way to get to you.”

“Buck…” your hands reached up to cup his face and you pulled away just a little to look down at him. “I’m here.” you whispered, breathless still.

He wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He finally pressed his lips to yours and kissed you like there’s no tomorrow; there was nothing gentle or innocent about the kiss, just hunger and passion and pure craving. His soft lips moved perfectly against yours through the messy kiss. He moaned through the kiss when you slid your hands into his hair and tugged on it gently. His hands rested on the curve of your ass; holding you close to him as he gently pulled away from the kiss and stared into your eyes.

He gripped your waist and pressed your cloth core onto his, making you grind against him; causing you to feel his hard on through his pants. You almost moaned at how big and firm he felt. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and your body shuddered as a wave of pleasure washed over you while you shamelessly rocked your hips ever so gently against his clothed hard on. He smirked at your involuntary actions.

“Fuck… I need to have you. Now.” he growled before pushing you down on the couch and hovering on top of you. He purposely pressed his crotch down in between your parted legs, making you moan at how fucking big he felt. “You feel that?” he breathed into your ear and made you shiver at how deep his voice sounded. You could almost feel the lust in his voice. “You did that, babygirl.” He pulled away from your face a little to look at you, smirking.

He kissed his way down your body, sliding your dress down your body while at it. You felt his mouth in between your thighs. Your back arched off the surface of the couch as his tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit and licked down, parting your wet folds with ease.

Your taste drove him wild, so did your soft whimpers. Your hand flew to his hair and you tugged on it gently as he flicked his tongue over your clit over and over again. His stubble rubbed against your sensitive skin incessantly, and the friction burned a little but it was the kind of pain you kept wanting more of.

His deep blue eyes watched you in awe and how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud. You came violently all over Bucky’s tongue, body shuddering and shaking while you moaned his name out loud. It gave him a pleasant rush when he heard your strained voice moan out his name.

He kissed your inner thighs, licking you clean before kissing his way up your body and finding your lips again. He kissed you with ardor; eager to just be inside you already and make you squirm and shake under him, but he also wanted to cherish each moment and worship your body. You felt his tongue stroke the top of your mouth, and his hands touched you wherever he could; your breasts, your waist – leaving trails of goosebumps wherever his fingers touched your skin.

He pulled away for a bit and grabbed both your wrists and pinned them down on the couch above your head. “Keep your hands there for me, baby girl.” He mumbled under his breath and lifted his hips to align his erected cock to your entrance. You instinctively spread your legs apart to give him more room. His hand reached down and he pumped his cock, rubbing it all over your dripping core in the process. You squirmed and moaned when he did so; the tip of his cock rubbing up and down your wet lips, parting them as he circled your clit gently. You shuddered under him; whining in need. Your body begging him to just take you already.

“Look at me.” He almost moaned as he whispered a little breathlessly, looking intensely into your eyes. The dimmed lights made his eyes look darker than usual, and his face looked dangerously handsome. His voice was deep – which caused the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. With a slow, steady push, he inserted his length into you. You shuddered as you felt all of him. You heard his ragged breaths as he removed himself out and pushed himself back into you again.

You moaned out loud, unable to hold back the sound which escaped your lips. “Fuck…” was all you were able to mutter under your breath as he pulled out of you completely, then pushed back into you again; filling you up entirely.

He sped up just a little, rocking his hips against yours and his hand reached up to wrap around your neck gently. He stared into your eyes, speeding up into you again. He leaned in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth. You could only nod senselessly, overwhelmed by how good he felt deep inside you. His lips left your mouth and kissed down your face. You let out a moan as he found your sweet spot, and felt him smirk against your skin. You moaned again as he bit and licked the skin beneath your jaw, all while slamming into you relentlessly; stretching you out and pounding into you like his life depended on it.

You could no longer keep your hands off him so you reached out and held onto his shoulders; your nails digging into his skin as you felt a pressure forming around your lower region. Bucky quickened his pace and pounded into you harder than before; the sounds of your skin slapping one another resonated around the room.

The dim light made his eyes look even more piercing than usual. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them around his waist. The new position was much more pleasurable for the two of you; the tip of his cock touched your most sensitive spots and your back arched off the couch – your chest pressing against his partially unbuttoned shirt; his body heat radiating through the fabric.

You moaned out loud and he very gently tightened his grip around your throat. His voice cracked as he whimpered in your ear. He somehow sounded needy but in control at the same time, and it drove you crazy. You felt your walls clench around him, and tighten around his thick member; making him swear out loud.

“Cum for me, babygirl. Come on.” he panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out his name as you came – hard.

You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even after you came, and your face burned as you felt the knot forming again right at your core. Bucky fucked you relentlessly; not even stopping for a second. He panted and groaned at how good you felt and shamelessly told you about it; whispering against your skin about how perfect you felt around him – wet and warm all for him. You moaned as you felt your second release approaching while the first was still fading. Your legs were numb, and your body moved along with his like a rag doll; yet, you wanted more of what he had to give. You craved him.

A rush coursed through your veins as you felt your mind clouding with lust again. His large frame hovering above you as he tightened his grip around your throat just a little more. “Cum for me again, come on.” He growled, his lips dangerously close to yours as you whined and whimpered under him.

A series of cuss words left your lips as you came for the second time in a row, walls tightening around his length. He bit down on your lip as you lifted your hips to meet his thrust; chasing your release. Your body trembled under him as you came again; gushing out around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you before slowing down again.

He kissed you again, while you tried to steady your breathing and calm your racing heart. He chuckled when he pulled away to look at how disheveled and messy you were all because of him. His hand left his throat and his thumb traced your lips again, he was mesmerized by how much of a whimpering, tear-stained mess you were.

“It’s okay doll, I’m right here.”

---

You woke up in his bed.

And the flashbacks of the time spent there hit you immediately.

You felt his arms around you as you peaked from under the blanket to try and reorient yourself. The room was brighter. You checked the time and it was around ten in the morning.

Well, there goes that family breakfast you promised your parents.

You felt Bucky stir in his sleep behind you. He peeled one eye open and smiled at the sight of you still in his bed.

“Morning baby girl,” he said in a deep, groggy morning voice which made your heart flip.

“I have plans with my family, you know? You’re just, shamelessly wrecking them.” You teased and watched how his smirk grew. His arm tightened around your body, under the covers. His touch was warm and gentle as he tugged you closer to his equally warm body.

Your bare chest pressed against his and you looked up and stared into his blue eyes. They were so dreamy you still couldn’t believe they were real.

“Oh please. Admit it, you like it better here with me rather than being confined in that old man’s house.” He rolled his eyes as he mentioned your dad.

You giggled. Him and your dad always hated each other.

“Imagine what he’d say once he finds out I’ve been hanging out with the bad guy. Again.” You played along.

Bucky laughed and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “I’ll deal with him. I’d do anything for you.” he whispered softly, the last part even more so.

Your heart did that thing where it felt like it was bursting into a millions little pieces in the best ways. The butterflies in your stomach went wild at the sound of his morning voice. You looked up at him and then leaned in to kiss his neck softly.

“I missed you, you know?”

“Hmm, I know.”

You giggled and hugged him tighter. “What now?” you asked, thinking about what would happen two weeks from now, when you’d have to get back to the city.

His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. “I was planning on expanding my… business to another city. How is it over there?” he asked, a smirk forming on his face as he waited for your reaction.

Your eyes widened as you quickly pulled away and sat up on his bed with a shocked look on your face. “You’re moving?”

He smiled at you. “I’ll go wherever you go at this point. I just got you back, I'm not giving up on us this time.”

“Are you sure about this? Our lives… they’re so different.” you looked down at your lap as you spoke. “Will we make it?”

He sat up and leaned against the headboard, pulling you onto his lap, caging you in his arms. “Oh we will.” Then he looked past you for a brief moment, out the floor-to-ceiling windows. He noticed the snow falling delicately. It was truly beautiful, but nothing matched how pretty you looked - messy hair, swollen lips, love bites all over your skin.

He leaned in to kiss you, then whispered against your lips. “We will make it doll, don’t you worry. Just trust me.”

a/n: ily.

#bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #bucky barnes au #marvel #Sebastian Stan

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imfluentinfangirlandgay · 2 years

Text

Elevated Railways - Ch 13

Ingo has been in Hisui for two years when two children fall from the sky - with wings like his. Did they come from the same place he did?

Word Count: ~2700

Ingo flew at top speed, pulling far ahead of the other two. He streaked up the mountainside, his longer, slender wings capable of handling a lot of area as he rode the updrafts. His heart pounded in his ears. Something was wrong. Never in his entire time of knowing the twins had they screamed like that. Like they were in real, life-threatening danger. Even when they were in true danger, he had never heard them scream like Akari just had.

He got to the top. Up there were the twins. Rei was unconscious on Akari’s lap, blood trickling from a wound on his head. Akari was hunched down on the ground over her brother, shaking. In front of them was Akari’s Samurott, which was clearly on its last leg. It was wounded, poisoned, and one of its eyes was shut. It was breathing heavily from the effort it was taking. In front of them was a massive dark Pokemon. It had golden rings encasing its head and body and it was levitating a few inches off the ground. Its back had six tendrils sprouting from it, each capped with a bright red claw. Next to it, supposedly commanding it, was a blonde figure with a flowing haircut. Ingo did not dwell on it.

“Gliscor, X-Scissor!” Ingo tucked in his wings, diving at the human, not even bothering to see what happened with the battle. Ingo swooped, barreling into the figure at top speed, knocking him off his feet and to the ground. Ingo grabbed him as he sailed back up, taking him up and up, up to where the very rift used to be. He held the figure by the front of their shirt. He realized that he recognized them.

“Volo?” He glared daggers at the man. Volo laughed in his face.

“I cannot believe none of you saw it sooner. Now, let me down so I can finish squashing them to pieces. I will reform the world in my perfect image. I will meet Arceus!” He squirmed in Ingo’s grasp.

Ingo heard something behind him. “Well, if you insist.” Volo screamed as Ingo dropped him. Emmet came under them and caught Volo as he passed.

“He’s trying to harm the children! Emmet, do what you must!” Emmet held the struggling man in the air by his collar, his grin dangerous.

“I would not want to have all the fun by myself, dear brother,” he said, his tone giving nothing away, instead all of his emotion bleeding out of his face. He was taut, rigid, and ready to snap at a moment's notice. “Unruly passengers must be dealt with accordingly.” He threw Volo some distance away, the man screaming. Ingo swooped and caught him again, just before he hit the ground. His face was pale at this point, his smile strained.

“You would not kill me,” he said, his voice wobbling. Ingo fought back the urge to laugh.

“I would not, no.’ He threw Volo again, allowing Emmet to catch him. “I have no say over my brother, however. He tends to be the wild card of the two of us.” Emmet’s smile was downright feral now. He began to speak, but was drowned out, Ingo’s attention being snatched away.

There was a screech below them. Gliscor was tossed about by the creature, its dark tendrils ripping into it. Ingo swooped again, landing harshly in front of the twins. He held up his arms, grabbing for his Pokeballs. “Alakazam, Shadow Ball, strong style.” He flicked his wrist, sending the powerful psychic onto the battlefield. It responded immediately, landing a critical hit on the monster. It withered, its form changing as six legs sprouted from its sides, the tendrils it had warping and forming into large, shadowy wings. Then it screeched as darkness engulfed it, leaving nothing in its wake. The battle was over.

Ingo whirled around and dropped to his knees. “Akari?! Are you alright? What happened?” He looked her over, not noting any serious injuries. She was shaking still, seemingly unable to process what was happening. Rei was still unconscious in her lap. The blood had slowed down, now clotted in his hair. He was still breathing strong and his heart rate was still steady. He just seemed to have fallen unconscious from a head blow. Ingo needed to ensure he did not have a concussion.

He looked back up at Akari. She was crying silently, tears flowing from her dark eyes as she stared wide-eyed at the place that Volo had been. Ingo gently took her and pushed her head into his shoulder, stroking her hair. He cocooned the pair of them with his wings. “You are safe now. It’s alright. We took care of it. Now we can take care of you, alright? Whenever you feel like it, we can get Rei back to my home and we can all relax there. I will check his wounds. He seems alright.” She continued shaking, not saying a single word. Ingo continued talking softly to her, stroking her hair rhythmically. She continued not to talk, but Ingo dimly remembered doing this kind of thing with Emmet. He kept his voice low and soothing. “You did so well, my child. I am so very proud of you. I am also very happy you called for me. I came as soon as I could with Emmet. We are here now, there is no more danger for you. We can sit here as long as you’d like. Take your time, young passenger.” He continued saying other such things as he continued stroking her hair, coaxing her out of her trance.

The first confirmation that he got that she was cognisant of his presence was a quiet sniffle. He rubbed her back with one hand, still combing his fingers through her hair with the other. He did not change his tactic as he heard the sniffles grow. Then she grabbed his tunic with her fingers, squeezing the fabric. She wailed unintelligibly, almost screaming. Ingo continued to comb her hair, telling her how proud he was. (And it was true.) She trembled in his grasp, her wings oddly still. Usually they were at least waving.

Ingo sat with her until she finally began to calm down. His knees were screaming, but he didn’t care. He continued being a steady presence for Akari until she settled down enough that she pulled away, just a little. Ingo let her head off of him, placing his hands on her shoulders. She just looked… tired. Her eyes had deep bags under them, as if she had not slept in a few days. Her lip was still wobbling. Ingo reached over and wiped some tears from her eyes. He did not say anything as he gazed at her with open worry. She was still shaking.

“I’m here, it’s alright now, passenger. We are here for you.” He heard Emmet alight down not far away and run over, kneeling with him next to Akari and Rei. He took inventory of the situation. He did not say anything and put his hands on his knees.

Her lip wobbled more as she looked between the two of them. “D-dad…” she croaked out. Ingo rushed forward and hugged her, Emmet following suit. Ingo met Emmet’s eyes over her head. He nodded.

“Come Miss Akari, let us get you somewhere safer.” Ingo gently lifted the girl into his lap as Emmet took Rei’s head. Ingo stood with her, still sobbing into his shoulder. She was a little heavy, but he would manage. Emmet lifted her brother to his chest, making sure his head was pressed snugly against his chest. They both ran in sync, jumping off the mountaintop and flexing their wings, flapping and sailing off towards home.

—-------------

They got the children bundled up into the nest first. Akari refused to let go of at least one of them at any given time, so Emmet sat with her as Ingo rushed around, grabbing things. He settled down with his bounty, taking Rei’s head into his lap. He cleaned the boy off gently with a damp cloth, noting how much blood there was. It was likely just because it was an injury to the scalp. Then he applied some poultice to it and finally wrapped the injury. Ingo felt around and noted no fractures in his skull, which was ideal.

He laid Rei on his bed. He did not want him moving around too much. He let out the boy’s partner, a Typhlosion, to keep watch over him and keep him warm. The creature let out a low, concerned moan when it saw its wielder. “He should be alright. He is just unconscious. Keep watch over him for me.” The ghost type nodded at him, gently laying its large head on his legs, watching him with drooping ears.

Ingo turned, returning to the other two. Emmet was lying next to her as she clung to him like a baby Chimchar, still sniffling. Ingo brought out his waterskin. “Akari, might I ask you to sip some water for me?” He coaxed her off Emmet enough to drink some water, which seemed to wake her up a bit. Ingo put away the container and nestled in, sandwiching her between the two of them. She was still shaking. Emmet was stroking her hair and humming.

Ingo had an idea. He sat up and grabbed the familiar tin, opening it and dipping three fingers in as he started to preen her. Her wings were wobbling as she cried, but he made sure to be gentle and thorough. As he worked his way through her wings, she began to calm. The repetitive action of grooming seemed to help. Her sniffles quieted, her breathing leveling out. By the time Ingo finished, she was asleep, still clinging to Emmet’s front as she breathed. Emmet continued to stroked her hair as she slept.

“She’s asleep,” he rumbled softly. He looked up at Ingo. Ingo blinked in return. He put aside the preening oil and laid back down, far enough away that he would not crush her wings. He rubbed her back and watched over her and her brother as they slept.

—----------------

Akari was the first to wake. It had been a few hours. The sun was beginning to set by this point. “Wh-wha?” Her voice was raspy from overuse.

“Akari,” Ingo said softly. “You are here in my tent, with me and Emmet. Rei is asleep over on the mattress. You are safe.” He did not move, and neither did Emmet. Ingo had his wing tucked around the three of them, large and soft. Gliscor was curled up by their heads now that it was healed. Akari’s Samurott guarded the door. When it heard her voice, it trundled over and stood over Gliscor, nuzzling her face.

Her eyes fluttered open. Ingo could tell because Emmet, who could see her face, smiled broadly. “We apologize for any delays you have have experienced,” he grinned.

She rolled, sitting up slowly. She blinked a few times. Then she gasped, whirling around. “V-Volo, he was gonna… and then Rei… is he… and Giratina-”

“Akari,” Ingo said, a little louder, catching her attention. He sat up quickly. “You called for us, and we diffused the situation. The Pokemon is defeated. Rei is recovering over there. Volo has been taken care of,” Emmet grinned wickedly at that and nodded, “and we are all inside my tent now. Please, I must insist that you rest. You are exhausted.” As he spoke, she relaxed, not laying back down, but her wings laid back at her sides. Emmet sat up as well, laying a hand on her knee.

“Are you sure? He seemed so dead-set on it-”

“We have obtained the last of the plates you were searching for from him. He has been taken out of commission. He is no longer a danger to you or anyone else,” Ingo soothed. She sagged. It was quiet for a moment.

“What happened?” Emmet asked, deadpan.

“Emmet, not yet-”

“No, it’s okay. I need to get it off my chest.” Akari got more comfortable and took a deep breath. “It was him all along. He said that he opened the rifts to try to get to Arceus because he wanted to meet it. He wanted to make a new world in his own image, a better world, and destroy this one. He never said why. He had us run around and gather all the plates and we just followed him and didn’t even question it…” She paused before continuing, her breath shaky. “He started acting weird after we got the last plate. He was scaring me. Then he led us to the top of the mountain and battled us. At one point, he aimed an attack for us directly and Drifloon wasn’t able to block it. It was aimed for me, but Rei jumped in front of me and…” she trailed off again, choking on her own breath. “He fainted. The last of my team wasn’t enough to take down Giratina and we were about to lose. I knew that if we lost, he was going to kill us too because he was jealous we were Arceus’ chosen. He wanted to…” She choked again, the noise transforming into a sob. Ingo reached over and squeezed her other knee softly. “He said he caused all the rifts. He was the one who brought you here, Uncle Ingo-”

“Uncle now?” Emmet interrupted. Ingo was about to scold him when he continued, “You called him your dad on the mountain.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Oh… if it made you uncomfortable I can stop doing that, I was confused and in shock and I swear I didn’t mean to-”

“Akari.” Ingo placed his hand on her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. “If you wish to refer to me like that, I have no issue with it. In fact, I find it rather endearing.” He must have smiled his infamous lopsided smile because she giggled at him. She held out her arms for him, asking for a hug. Ingo obliged.

“You can only call him your dad if I’m your uncle, though,” Emmet pouted. Akari giggled again, pulling him into the hug.

“Of course. Our new dad and our Uncle Emmet.” Both brothers grinned at that.

A groan. All three looked up, noting that Rei was stirring. Typhlosion nuzzled the boy softly, bellowing softly. Ingo stood immediately and went to the boy’s bedside, sitting on the edge of the mattress and feeling his head. “Rei? Are your systems operational?”

Rei groaned again, cracking open an eye. “Head hurts,” he moaned. Ingo brushed his hair back.

“You took quite a hit. Rest for now, you are safe.”

“V-Volo… Akari… they okay?”

“Volo has been taken care of. Akari is just over there, perfectly safe and healthy. Rest up for now. You took a hit to the head. Please lay and rest.”

He grimaced, his face turning up in a pout. “Cold.”

“Hmm.” Ingo looked at Typhlosion. It nuzzled Ingo’s arm. “Alright, then.” He picked the boy up gently, making sure he did not move his head too much, and transferred him over to the floor nest. He laid him down carefully, in a soft spot. Typhlosion lumbered after them. “He says he was cold. I believed we could help.”

Akari immediately laid next to him, snuggling up to his side. Ingo sat on his other side, running his hands through the boy’s hair. Emmet sat up beside Akari, so that the young twins were squished between the older ones. Ingo noticed Akari yawning.

“You can go back to sleep, Akari. We will be here to protect you. We promise,” he murmured, making sure not to disturb Rei. Emmet nodded. She nestled in and allowed her eyes to shut. “Sweet dreams, Akari.”

“Good night, Dad. Good night, Uncle Emmet.” Ingo felt a warm glow in his chest as she settled down again for sleep.

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notnctu · 4 years

Text

POV | PART TWO

━ ❝ i’d love to see me from your point of view.❞

❀ lee donghyuck x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, fluff! angst, (optional smut is marked with ****) ❀ details - best friends to lovers!au, college!au, ft. best friend mark, slice of life?, inspo by pov by ariana grande ❀ word count - 6.1k ❀ warnings - swearing, dangerous reckless behavior, fingering, penetration, public?sex?, unprotected, slight dirty talk ❀ synopsis - Donghyuck gradually falls in love with you, his best friend, through unprecedented intimate moments that reveal more than what meets the eye and a drunken shared kiss on your birthday makes him realize how hard he’s fallen for you. You’re oblivious to it all, trying to indulge and seek a one true love through bad tinder hookups or men you meet at the club, all to only end in self doubt that Donghyuck has to reconcile. And he always tells you what you need to hear, while also leaving out the part where he so badly wishes you can love yourself the way he loves you.

❀ a/n - make sure you read the first part as it’s a continuation! please please leave me feedback, i would really appreciate it :) this is going to be my last long fic for the time being! thanks for dealing with my spam for the past few weeks after months no of writings <3

READ PART ONE

Donghyuck thought about that kiss every night since it happened, yet knowing you didn’t do the same. How unfortunate it was, when he panicked waking next to you in the morning and wondering if you were to confront him about it. However, there was nothing, no follow up. You didn’t remember it and he couldn’t tell if the sigh that left his mouth that morning was out of relief or despair.

Regardless, that became his epiphany and the more his love for you grew, the more he wished to be around you for all his days. Donghyuck jumped at every text message, picking up the phone to see if it was you and noting the disappointment in his heart whenever it wasn’t. He found himself smiling whenever your name was brought up, fondly thinking of how you make his heart race.

The moments that you were together, he swears on every universe that he’s the happiest he’s ever been. There’s something about you that makes him want to believe in love, and it’s not because of your unrealistic desires to find one. As selfish as he came to be, he wanted you all to himself and to be the sole reason behind your smiles.

“No Mark?” Asking as you hop into Donghyuck’s car, the clock on his dash reading the red digital numbers 2:12 A.M.

“Why can’t we just hang out for once?” He whines, but hopes that it’s playful enough to where you can’t tell that he’s actually serious. Donghyuck hears your melodic chuckle and everything inside him rumbles with glee and satisfaction.

He steals quick peeks over at you in the passenger seat, greedily taking in your appearance. “That’s not exactly how a throuple works, but I’ll let it pass. Mark never has time for us anyways.”

There is something so intimate about the late nights; the outside world is dead in its sleep and vulnerable to chaos. The streets are completely empty and it truly feels as if it’s you two against the city. It brings no regulations, easy escapes, staying up all night to feel something the day can’t give you.

You are the perfect person to spend them with. You’re the very definition of a good feeling, where he’s forgetting all his bad days and soaring through the heavens. The most accurate human form of excitement, the adrenaline and sweetest thrills that run throughout his body.

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to do…” As Donghyuck pulls into a gas station parking lot, the small convenient store is brightly lit with a blinding white sign that reads a popular chain establishment.

Hyuck blinks at you curiously, head tilt and waiting for you to finish your sentence. Getting out of the car, you stand on your toes and rest your chin on the roof of his car to speak directly to him, “you know that big intersection over on 34th Boulevard?” He catches the mischievous twinkle that shines in your eyes and a grin so fearless fits your face perfectly.

He nods, spinning his car keys on his finger and walking up to the store. But he’s looking back at you with eyes that ask for you to proceed with him, and you’re running towards him with a sudden youthful energy and a jump in your step.

Your hand latches onto his arm and his gaze drops momentarily to follow it, “I’ve always wanted to just run down the middle of it. To run down a busy traffic area when it’s empty, knowing that this would be the only opportunity to do it without getting run over.”

“Is that what you’re suggesting we should do next?” Hyuck opens the fridge and grabs his favorite prepackaged ice cream cone. Your grip on his sleeve tightens, your dazzling eyes never leaving his.

He hands you a random popsicle and you take it mindlessly, your train of thought still trying to convince Hyuck to embark on achieving this new thrill of yours. “If you didn’t have anything else planned…”

“Am I some Fairy Godmother? Granting your wishes to come true?” Using sarcasm to hide his undying desire to scream yes! may be the best thing he’s learned to utilize. However, you don’t need to beg any more when a small smile curves at his lips. He’s more than convinced.

“Ah, a happy couple. You two look great together.” The rather talkative cashier compliments while he rings up the icey treats.

Just before Hyuck can clarify, you’re pulling him closer by the arm and using your fake saccharine smile. “The best boyfriend ever!” His throat freezes, but he’s following your lead closely. Confusion wandering his thoughts, but heart swelling at your usage of the word boyfriend to reference him.

The friendly stranger laughs wholeheartedly at your giddy act, completely falling for your overplayed nature of a lovey dovey girlfriend. “He always buys me what I want, like this ice cream. He knows it’s my favorite.” You blink innocently up at him, but he finally understands your malicious motive.

Shooting a glare at you, he complies silently and pulls out his card to pay for both of your treats. “Right. Anything my baby wants.” He says the pet name so easily that it shocks him a bit.

“Hey, you’re a good man.” The clueless cashier smiles even wider and prints the receipt. With a simple gratitude, you both exit the store and you’re laughing the loudest form of mockery.

Jumping into the car, Hyuck is quick to roll his eyes. “He always buys me what I want.” He imitates your previous statement with a silly voice. “I can’t believe you robbed me.”

The ridiculous scheme actually managed to work, leaving your stomach to hurt from the intense fit of giggles. “My baby? Where did you learn that?” You say between your spurts of laughter.

Heat rises up his neck, slightly embarrassed. “So what? Nicknames are cute.” He admits bashfully, while shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

Your chuckles die down and you’re leaning over the middle console to get a closer look of his expression. “Really? Didn’t think you were the type. You never used them with your exes.”

“Around you.” A cringe runs down your spine when you witness Hyuck bite his ice cream, settling back in your seat with a grumble.

“Pet names in private.” Now, his palms grow a bit slick with perspiration. “That’s endearing.” Unwrapping your melting popsicle, you don’t probe him more about the subject. Instead, Hyuck turns up the stereo to drown out any more talk about romantic gestures.

After several rounds of finding street parking, Hyuck finally swerves into a spot situated just before the large six-way intersection. The traffic lights blink in view at the end of the street and in the darkness, there are no cars around. An unfamiliar scene, this place is nothing but a wide open road with five lanes that meet in the middle and lead to six different directions. The white painted lines that divide up the road are as chaotic as it looks during the day filled with traffic.

Nonetheless, you are right. There is no other chance to see it so dead, so empty, so free.

And you’re already hopping out of the car that Hyuck breaks his daydream and hurries after you. Standing the middle of the road is a dangerous scheme, yet these are the thrill seeking moments that you crave too well.

Extending your arm out and your palm facing the night sky, you grin enticingly at Hyuck to join you in the middle of the chaotic lines and the adrenaline picks up within him. He, too, matches your smile and lets every form of enthusiasm fuel him.

“Race you to the end.” Hyuck begins bolting down the long runway, causing you to scoff in disbelief at his sudden challenge.

The wind that takes flight against his body is crisp on his skin and driving his strands into a wild mess. Turning around, he sees that you’re quick on his tail. However, the one thing that catches his eye… the one thing that makes this moment another one of your most beautiful ones is the utter bliss and peace in your facial expression.

Eyes are closed and arms are spread out as if you’re letting the wind carry you away. The air slips between the spaces of your fingers and the night is filled with nothing, but your gentle out of breath giggles.

Donghyuck stops in his tracks right under the colorful traffic lights at your astonishing image. And if you are to open your eyes, you’ll see the marvelous image of your sun waiting for you in the middle of the largest intersection of the city with his mouth slightly agape and marked under a trance.

An exasperated sigh escapes as a puff of smoke and his heart works extra hard to pump oxygen in his veins. In his perspective, the excellent city skyline at the horizon remains your background and you’re running toward him with a breathless joy. Another splitting breathtaking image that will live in his mind for as long as he knows you.

So he throws caution to the wind and though it feels too good to be true, he loves his best friend more than anyone he’s ever come across.

By the end of your rendezvous, you two find a secret rooftop to fully enjoy your silent city. Standing side by side, you both lean with your elbows on the ledge.

There is something so unspoken and intimate about this very moment, where existing in each other’s presences becomes wholly more comfortable than anything in the world. And this safety allows for vulnerable secrets to spill, for questions that your heart has always been afraid to ask to fall from your lips.

But you’re not here with just anybody. Donghyuck probably knew what was already on your mind, he just needed you to speak them into existence.

“Hyuck, do you think I’m unlovable?”

Perhaps, it’s the intimacy that allows for him to talk more confidently about how he views you. Heart over mind, he scoffs in disbelief. “Absolutely not. You’re the most lovable person I know! From your happy giggles to your overall easy going aura. We’re not perfect people, but you’re worth every glance and every praise. I wanted to be with you the very moment you made me laugh.”

Donghyuck passionately rambles on about your attributes and everything you’ve allowed him to experience over the years of your friendship. While he’s always been there for you, you’re always by his side and making sure he’s living a memorable life. He thanks all his sweetest memories to you, that you are the most impactful person of his entire college experience.

“I came to college thinking I’d have my nose in textbooks all day long, but you fell into my life like an opportunity to escape. I love my nights trying to crush Mark on the leaderboards, but I’d give that up any day to run down a major intersection in the middle of the city with you.”

With a playful soft chuckle, you say something that practically makes his heart stop and regret oversharing. “You know, from how you describe me… it almost sounds like you’re in love with me.”

“Maybe I am.” He bites the inside of his cheek, unsure what suddenly overcame him. His heartbeat pounds in his ears and he’s anticipating your response, trying every way to decipher the quizzical look on your face. Nevertheless, your hesitation causes him to panic and he intercepts before you can respond. “I meant that as your friend.”

His heart drops into the pit of his stomach, gaze averting away from you. Lies. Lies. More fucking lies. He should’ve waited to see what you would’ve said.

Nodding knowingly, you lightly place your hand over his. The warmth of your touch soothes his aching and disappointment. Why is he hurting from a simple look? “I know.” He can’t tell what’s worse, the fact that you truly believe he only loves you as a friend or that you saw right through him and are trying to let him save face.

“Something happened the night of your birthday that I think I should tell you.” Hyuck sighs out all his frustrations.

He pulls his hand from underneath yours, “you asked me to kiss you as a birthday favor.” There is no confidence to watch your reaction, his eyes remain focused on the dark city.

Instead of a painstaking rejection, you laugh wholeheartedly and somehow, he feels much lighter. “And did you?”

“How could I say no to you on your birthday?” Peering over, your fingers softly graze your lips and a wandering look is present in your dazed stare.

“It’s not the first time we’ve kissed, Hyuck.” Smiling at him, Hyuck looks cluelessly at you and doesn’t recall another time. He would’ve remembered.

“Guess who I stole that same request from?” Your eye lashes bat firmly at him and he gulps at your implied question. There was no way.

“Me? When?” This all causes him to rack his brain of lost files, something he must’ve missed.

Sighing, you bid him a kind smile. “Your birthday party a few months ago. Drunk out of your living mind, you pulled me privately into the kitchen and asked if I could kiss you as a birthday gift.”

Fuck, no wonder why he couldn’t remember. He didn’t remember a single thing from that night. “It was right after my break up.”

Nodding, you affirm his realization. “You told me that you felt so lonely, and somehow…. someway… I’ve always made you feel seen. Perhaps, you do the same for me and my drunk ass was bold enough to ask for a similar request.”

But did you kiss him as if you loved him? With the same amount of love that he did the night of your birthday?

Nonetheless, you shrug off the topic and move on from it all. “We should go, the sun comes up in a few.”

Hyuck notes this odd detail. You’re not one to end the nights so abruptly, so it almost seemed as if you didn’t want to speak more about it.

Perhaps, you did kiss him like you meant it but every fear in your body about loving your best friend stops you from admitting it all.

Because you shouldn’t love your best friend, but something deep down has always wanted to.

How ridiculous he was to believe that you could ever possibly share the same feelings as him. How foolish he felt the moment you burst into his apartment announcing how you’ve finally found the one after another random Tinder date.

It’s as the night on the rooftop a week ago didn’t even exist or mean anything to you. But that night ate him up alive, to the point where he sought out love counseling from Mark.

“Oh dude, this is serious.” Mark watches Hyuck pace the room, double around the floorplan with his head in his hands with utter frustration and confusion. You’re the only thing that’s been running through his mind the last few days.

He grunts and rolls his eyes at how Mark’s face had fallen sullen. “I practically confessed everything I loved about her. It’s pretty serious.”

Mark stands and stops Hyuck by the shoulders, looking dead into his eyes. “I’ve liked her before too and would have done some dumb act to get her to like me back. I get it, Hyuck. So, what do you want to do?”

Donghyuck initially scoffs and tears away from his best friend’s intense stare, “of course you liked her too.” His voice fades out at the end of his sentence. “Mark, I like her so much it’s hard to look at anyone else. She’s…”

“Mesmerizing?” Mark finishes his sentence with a small proud grin on his lips.

Hyuck couldn’t hold the ridiculous laugh that escapes at how smug Mark looks, but then a silence falls over him. He realizes how perfect that word is to describe you. You are every dazzling trance he’d fawn under.

“It’s wrong, Mark. She’s our best friend, I can’t ruin us.” Hyuck slumps his shoulders forward and a pout extends. His eyes are wandering the ugly carpet but he’s thinking about every moment you’ve smiled.

“How did this happen in the first place? I thought you never would’ve liked her…” Mark’s question has Hyuck raking his brain to find his epiphany. “It’s not about your ex, is it? y/n is way too good to be a rebound.”

“No. This has nothing to do with my old relationships, I genuinely like her… so much.” Hyuck understands the implications in Mark’s sudden abrasive questions. Even it’s difficult for himself to say how it all started and so this has Donghyuck reflecting back on his entire friendship with you.

If only he had noticed your lively smiles sooner, a little earlier, it would have saved him all this time searching for someone who would last. You’ve lasted through every college relationship he’s had and that speaks louder than any confession.

“I never liked her because I never thought I had a chance. Have you seen her? Our best friend who has 400 matches on Tinder.” Though he blames himself for realizing a little late that he loved you, it was always hard to compete with everyone else.

“So, what changed then?”

Hyuck leans against the door to Mark’s room and crosses his arms to contemplate. “Not that I have a chance now, but I can’t hold these feelings back anymore. I want to kiss her until we’re out of breath, to love without any conditions, to be the reason behind her every beautiful moment.”

Mark raises a confused eyebrow, “but you are.”

“The only reason.” Hyuck speaks his truest desires and Mark coughs aggressively before composing himself. Right, he didn’t stutter one bit.

So, Hyuck had planned to confess, all until you gave him the very reason he couldn’t. When you showed up unannounced with one of those wide grins that has your eyes shimmering with hope, he just knew something was wrong. All his love and future aspirations were replaced with sheer disappointment and envy.

“I’m falling hard for him.” You begin and your hands are clasped together so innocently. “He brought me to this overlook on a cliff and we just talked for ages. It felt so right and then, he asked to see me again!” Your eyes are completely wondrous and distracted, like the one thought in your mind blocked out everything else. Jumping happily, you’re squealing with excitement thinking about this new person in your life and there is no consideration of Hyuck’s silence.

“That’s… great.” He barely stutters to fill the air and to replace the sound of his heart breaking. He lost you before even getting the chance to even have you.

“I know right!” You yell joyfully and though your smile is the biggest it's ever been, Hyuck refuses to see this moment as beautiful. He’s no longer looking at you objectively, his bias tainting it all and he sees it in an ugly light. As your best friend, he should be happy for you and rooting for you. He’s known more than anyone else that you have been waiting for someone like this your whole college experience.

However, he can’t feel a single good emotion as you ramble on about your alleged one true love.

“Did you need something?” He cuts you off, growing a bit irritated by your endless praise about a man who never wishes to meet.

Clearing your throat, you take Hyuck’s hand in both of your palms. With begging eyes, you say, “my sister is getting married this weekend and they invited you.

His hold escapes yours as he walks toward his bedroom, “shouldn’t you invite your new man to your family events now.” It’s difficult for him to hide the bitterness in his voice, but you run up to him and grip his arm.

“But they think I’m dating you, remember? Plus, my mom referred to you by name. She really likes you.” You snicker, clearly not understanding why Donghyuck seems to be rather distant at the moment.

His ears perk up at the compliment and though it’s a selfish thought, he feels content knowing that he was able to win over your family. So, his heart burns at how your hand slowly travels down to intertwine with his own and how your chin rests on his shoulder lightly. His head turns and he is met a few inches away from your tender lips. For a brief moment, he’s staring at them longer than he should.

“Come on, Hyuck. Be mine for one more time.” Your whisper is gentle and soft, your breath tickling against his cheek. Despite everything, he loves how you make him feel. It’s always a mixture of happiness and safety. There are no fears with you because you’re absolutely fearless. He can’t imagine how he would’ve opened up without you around, that he puts every form of trust into you.

So, every little thing that you do. every single passing look. every touch and every spoken word. He falls harder for you every time you simply see him, every time you bat your eyelashes at him. And this love that festers inside of him feels easy and genuine. Perhaps, you’ve been his one true love all along. He’s never felt remarkably seen, where every part is exposed and right at your fingertips.

And you… have been so patiently waiting for just anyone to steal your heart. How can he let just anyone love you?

“I’m yours for however long you want me to be.” He lightly ruffles the top of your hair before slightly shrugging you off, afraid that your hold will eventually have him saying other sweet implications. “But don’t expect me to enjoy it.” He smirks at your small chuckle, the roll in your eyes.

“At least pretend.” But he really doesn’t have to. He enjoys every moment being yours.

When the day finally arrived, the grand wedding may have been another day that Hyuck will never forget how beautiful you looked. Prancing out in your bridesmaid dress, you run towards him through the large field of fake grass. He catches you when you jump into his arms, practically failing all over and tripping over the ends of your chiffon dress. He hits the ground, cushioning your fall.

“Hey..” you grin down at him breathless, hand resting perfectly on his chest as it was the night of your 21st again.

Hyuck gulps and sends you a glare, “I should have dropped you.”

“That would have been very chivalrous of you.” Sarcasm bites back at him as you push up and off of him. He’s quick on his feet and brushing off any dust from the bottom of your expensive dress, avoiding the long open slit that runs down to expose one leg.

“Donghyuck, you’re looking ravishing.” Your mother steps out, tall and prideful, but with the most delightful expression as she opens her arms to invite him into a hug.

He leans into it, while cautiously making suspicious eye contact with you. You shrug back, also confused at why your mother has a sudden change in demeanor. “It’s been so long since the holidays.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He bids your mother a respectful smile when she pulls away, to which she absolutely fawns at and you’re tugging at his sleeve to drag him away.

“The pleasure is all mine. You make y/n a better person.” And there is no context that Hyuck understands this single phrase before he’s walking away from your force. Your mother waves a small sweet goodbye as she watches you two leave behind a cobblestone wall behind the large reception building.

It’s covered in long vines that grow up the old stones, a beautiful background for an outdoor wedding. “Rude.” He whispers when you finally stop pulling him away.

“She was starting to say odd things.” You laugh, quite nervously actually. Nonetheless, you shake out of your nerves and a beaming expression replaces your troubles. “So, guess what? I’m meeting my man afterwards.” Yet again, the curve of your lips at the thought of another rumbles his own yearning heart.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he looks down while kicking at the loose pebbles on the ground. “Good for you.” grumbles Donghyuck mindlessly.

You don’t notice his low spirits again, you’re talking away about this man as if he’s all you’re consumed with nowadays. On and on, the same speech about how you’re practically ready to give it your all and how he fits someone unimaginable. Eventually, Donghyuck becomes fed up by how your eyes blink up to the sun with another reflection in them. “It’s like you forget who you are when you’re with someone new.”

And you’re in mid-ramble when you hear his harsh comment that picks aggressively at your skin. It stings, “what?” You cross your arms defensively and raise an eyebrow at him. The tone in your voice is jarringly upset and he opened a can of worms that he isn’t ready for.

Donghyuck swears underneath his breath, looking away at the tall trees behind the small parking lot. “Forget it.” He mumbles, rather frustrated at himself for ticking you off.

“What are you implying?”

“There is someone that actually makes you a better person rather than someone completely different.” He scoffs, his emotions fueling the worst of him. The words flow from his mouth full of anger and spitefulness.

Your eyes narrow at him, crossing your arms defensively. “Like you can give me the love you think I deserve? This whole fake boyfriend gimmick has gone too much to your head.”

And his heart is bursting at the seams and all he can see is your angry expression, so he says something he never hopes to regret. Every impulse beats his rationality and in the heat of the moment, Donghyuck confesses, “if only you can see yourself from my point of view and all the emotions I feel when I look at you.”

With a sharp intake of breath, you’re slightly shocked at his bold statement. You blink cluelessly at him, speechless and deciphering how to respond. The anger fades from the both of you, knowing that the connection you two possess is mutual. Somewhere deep down within you, a light switches on and you’re basking in your sun’s radiance in this moment.

“Tell me about it.” Your curiosity brings much confusion, but he doesn’t wait a second of hesitation.

“Happiness, you light up my nights in dark cars with your smile. Trust, there is no one else I’d run down a dangerous intersection with. Courage, being bold enough to dance in a crowded room like no one was watching. Love, when kissing you felt incomparable to anything else in the world. Vulnerability, looking at you and knowing everything about you.”

Donghyuck takes a cautious step forward toward you. A whirl of thoughts and emotions overwhelmingly flood your heavy mind, but fear no longer holds you back from the one person you’ve always wished to love, harder than any person you’ve ever encountered. “Donghyuck.”

He freezes at the call of his name, waiting patiently for your next words. “I want to love me the way that you love me... because nobody loves me like you do… even myself. So, I’d love to see me from your point of view.”

Donghyuck releases the sigh that suffocates him and every firework lights up in his chest. His eyes wander across your canvas and absorb everything wondrous about your features. Even though you’re not entirely smiling, you’re puckering your lips cutely out of embarrassment. And he reassesses how pretty you simply look in your expensive formal chiffon dress and the bold color on your lips that has made you feel good before.

He thinks aloud, the words leaving his mouth before they can be stopped. “This is your most beautiful moment.”

When you’re looking up at him to meet his dreamy gaze, a new enthusiasm washes over your entire body. Looking rather inexplicably attractive in his suit, Hyuck stares at you as if you’re all he can see. So, you pull him into the only source of gratitude you can give. A kiss that gives every emotion back to him, one that resembles closely to the one he gave you on your birthday and the one you gave him for his.

An emotional kiss that tells him more than he can see. He feels it on the tip of your tongue and every ounce of love that rushes over the both of you.

***********

Donghyuck’s wandering hands travel down your waist, over your hips, all until it reaches in between the slit of your dress. His hand instinctively grips at your naked thigh, the feeling of your raw skin driving him wild with impure thoughts. Your hands are quick on his tie, loosening it from around his collar and unbuttoning the first few as you’ve done once before.

“Can,-- Is it okay if--?” Hungry eyes search his face for confirmation, but you’re so lust driven that you’re a stuttering mess. “Do you want this?”

“Yes.” Says Hyuck without any hesitation. Taking his hand, you’re quick to lead him inside to a more secluded part of the venue. The lavish private bathrooms are brightly lit and he lifts you on top of the marble counters.

“The reception starts in 20 minutes.” You moan as Hyuck kisses down your neck hastily, a hand up the slit of your dress to push your panties aside.

“We’ll make it quick then. I’ll show you love another day.” His knuckle lightly grazes against your erect clit and your grip on his shoulder tightens. Whimpers fall from your lips as your hips mindlessly grind into his hand. “Never took you the type to be so loud.” Hyuck raises an eyebrow and tilts his head mockingly at you.

“This isn’t even close to how loud I can get.” Your statement causes him to swallow hard. Being your best friend, he has kept a rather clear mind from any sexual attraction toward you. He had to know he loved you in order to even see you in that way.

Gathering your slick, he rubs your clit with two fingers before dipping them into your hole. You lean back into the mirror and prop your feet on the counter to spread open for Hyuck to see. “You let all these idiots fuck your pretty pussy? They don’t deserve you, as a person or a potential partner.” He fingers you deeper and with flicking motions, he hits your sweet spot and causes you to jolt.

“Please, just fuck me. I’ve always wondered how good you’d feel.” His eyes twinkle at your bashful confession, but understands your lustful desires even for your own best friend.

“You think about fucking me?” He asks abruptly, taking his fingers out to suck your juices clean from them. A coined flattered smirk appears on his lips as he unbuckles his belt.

You’re averting eye contact, “well no, maybe just once. I get horny when I’m drunk sometimes.” You admit and he’s rushing to take himself out of his restrictive dress pants. His dick hits the air and he adjusts closer to your dripping core.

And he enters, slowly and slowly inching in so you can adhere to his size. You bite back every yell of pleasure and grip the ends of his dress shirt. Hyuck fills you up deliciously, and you two are connected through bodies beyond any way before. He leans in to give you a sloppy, yet passionate kiss before dragging out his hips and pushing them back in.

There is no guilt, no pain, no sorrows. Knowing Hyuck, he fucks you in the same way he wishes to love you. His hips drive into you passionately and quickly. The time crunch being something that causes him great distraction, but his heart is swelling simply feeling your warmth wrap around him so well.

“My baby is so tight.” Pet names in private. A small grin appears on your face at the sound of the sweet nickname and you pull him closer by tugging his shirt.

“Harder, Hyuck. Don’t hold back anymore.” Moan after moan, Hyuck relentlessly drills into you. His arm is hooked underneath your left thigh to keep it up, and your head keeps banging against the mirror.

Your eyes roll back when his thumb rubs circles on your aching clit. The mixture of both pleasures stimulate you until the build up tension in your stomach begins to reach its peak.

“Cum, I know you fucking want to.” He grunts, keeping the same rhythm that pushes you over your edge. Your walls squeeze around him tightly as your legs shake sporadically from your release. You’re smart to cover your mouth, knowing that the bathroom will only echo your erotic sounds. Your chest rises and falls from the momentum and adrenaline that Hyuck helped you reach, breathlessly trying to calm your heart rate down.

After a few more harsh bumps, he pulls out and motions you forward. Jumping off of the counter, you kneel on the ground and suck his tip lightly. Your swirls are enough for him to empty into your mouth, his hot streams of salty liquid hitting the back of your throat. He looks down at you and your wide eyed expression with his cock in your mouth drives him overboard.

And you swallow, getting up to lightly plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. A lip stain being worn proudly for just a moment.

“You amaze me.” Hyuck whispers, holding you against his flushed body and fast paced heart beat.

“Hurry out you two!” A voice startles the both of you with a knock on the door and you two are quick to readjust yourselves. He hopes to love you a little longer next time, without any interruptions.

***********

After the glorious and excruciating long wedding, you’re walking Hyuck to his car in the small parking lot. During the rest of the night, he held your hand the whole way through and the love that he looked at you with was more than real.

He talked with your distant relatives as if he’s always known them. Hyuck conducted the dinner table, always knowing what to say. There was no doubt in your head that seeing Donghyuck in the aftermath, he was always going to be someone who was going to make things better.

The love you long searched for, the love that you had been too afraid to touch, intertwined itself so lovingly underneath the white table cloth. Donghyuck is the one and it took needing to see him a bit more to realize. A little more acceptance from the both of you had to be the final straw.

Donghyuck sheepishly scratches the back of his neck when you reach his car, unsure where the path of your friendship will diverge to next. “Have fun on your date then…” His voice trails off, kicking the rocks at his feet again.

There goes your melodic laughter that soothe his aching heart and the familiar gentle grip on his fingertips. You lift his chin up, the both of you seeing each other clearly now.

From his perspective, you’re absolutely dazzling in the low light and butterflies swirl in the pit of his stomach. He can look at you forever, until months turn into years. He can love you until you two grow old. You’re his fearless, beautiful, inexplicably marvelous best friend. And he patiently waits for the day you’ll let him finally be yours.

From your perspective, Donghyuck shines even when the night overtakes the sky and possibly, the warmth in your heart bubbles across your chest. You can stay with him forever, until months turn into years. You can trust him like it’s you two against the world. He is your silly, charming, timidly benevolent best friend. And you’re slowly falling and hoping for the day you get to be his.

“I’m not going to see him anymore. He’s not the one.” Hyuck blinks at you, full of confusion and shock.

“But you sounded so happy.” His voice gets lost in the stillness of the intimate atmosphere.

“No, Hyuck. You make me happy and I’ll say it again for you to hear me. Nobody loves me like you do.” Reaching up, your hand caresses his cheek and he falls into your palm lovingly. His heart runs a mile, reaching the greatest high he’s ever going to feel. He hopes his eyes don’t deceive him, but the utter perfection on your face makes him feel whole.

You wish that Hyuck can teach you to love yourself the way that he loves you.

“Take me home?”

“How could I ever say no?”

thank you for being patient with me! its finally done and i will be going on a writing hiatus for a bit. housemating and ridin club will come out sometime soon, but i really need to step away from writing for a bit. please understand, thank you for reading :)

#neowritingsnet #nct-writers #neosmutcollective #kpopscape #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct scenario #lee haechan #haechan scenarios #haechan smut #nct smut #nct imagines #nct #nct dream scenarios #nct imagine

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christinesficrecs · 4 years

Text

A very long list of updated snowed in fic recs for @starsandmoony 💜

On my Way by Gia279 | 17.9K

Huge black paws smacked the window, followed by a fuzzy face smooshing up against it.

He scrambled over the gear shift, tipping into the passenger seat. Bear, he thought hysterically. It had to be a bear, a freaking bear.

A big pink tongue rolled out, lips pulling back as the creature panted.

I’ve got chills... They’re multiplying! by DropsOfAddiction | 12.3K | Explicit

Derek is literally wrapped around him, one heavy leg and one heavy arm pinning him tight to Derek‘s front.

Warm and steady breaths tickle the back of Stiles’ neck. He tries not to freak out and he wonders how he’s going to extract himself without waking Derek. He totally isn’t ready to face into this conversation.

Stiles stretches gently and Derek grumbles clutching him tighter in his sleep. Stiles tries not to yelp when Derek buries his face in the back of his neck.

Well fuck.

One Star Awake by zjofierose | 9.5K

When Stiles gets stranded in the snow one dark and snowy night, he's in real danger. Fortunately, he gets rescued by a man on a horse.

Emergency Contact by bewarethesmirk | 1.2K

“Derek here hasn’t left your side,” the nurse coos, and Derek glares at her back. “You’re so lucky to have such an adoring husband.”

snow day by kellifer_fic | 8.3K

“It’s not a big deal. It just happens when I’m… cold,” Stiles offers, scratching gingerly at his head with a claw and then grimacing at it like it’s betraying him.

“Are you serious?”

“Hey, who are you to judge, wolfman?”

Your love warms me up by Smowkie | 1.2K

“At least it’s slowing down,” Stiles said, his lips slightly blue tinted and his teeth clacking.

“Yeah,” Derek said. Stiles had his arm hooked with Derek’s, and he was stumbling a little as they walked. “Come on, keep walking, keep warm.”

“Yeah, keep walking,” Stiles agreed.

Derek didn’t like how weak he sounded.

In the Dark Midwinter, Light by rhysiana | 3.7K | Mature

Really, Derek and Stiles being sent to an empty druid's cabin to fetch a book for Deaton and then getting snowed in could have gone so, so much worse.

it doesn't have to be a snowman by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren) | 4.9K

The Beacon Beans coffee shop is what Stiles would refer to as a lifesaver. They supply his dose of sugar whenever he needs it, they don't ask questions, and their hot chocolate is delicious.

And now they're running a snowman building competition where the grand prize would get him an entire year's worth of drinks. Really, all he needs is a partner to team up with. Only everyone else from the pack already seems to have paired up.

three words have never come easy by the_problem_with_stardust | 1.5K | Mature

If someone had told Derek five years ago that Stiles Stilinski would be the one living in a secluded cabin in the woods, Derek never would have believed them. Even now, he had a hard time reconciling his memories of Stiles as a high schooler with the young man who preferred the quiet found amongst the trees.

Whenever he’d inquired, Stiles had just smiled that enigmatic smile, so like Deaton or Morrell, and said something about being unable to think around the bustle of town.

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!” by jadore_hale | 2.3K

“I’m sorry,” Stiles sighed heavily, coming back down to earth, “But when you woke me up this morning and said that we needed to go out into the woods and find the evil Snow Witch that brought this shit here, I thought that was your emotionally stunted way of saying come build a snowman with me.”

In The Arms of A Werewolf by literaryoblivion | 9.2K

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Stiles is flabbergasted. How is this even possible? Werewolves he can take. Poisonous lizard creatures, sure. Once dead, now living creepy werewolf uncles, bit of a stretch but he can roll with it. Sacrificing ancient druids that masquerade as teachers, okay fine. But this?

An honest to god abominable snowman? In Beacon Hills, California no less?

Nope.

Winter Storm Stiles by 42hrb | 2K

Stiles isn’t looking forward to weathering his first snow storm on his own, then he meets a handsome stranger at the grocery store who might be able to help.

Find Me Sitting Fireside by kaistrex (weishen) | 13.2K

With the news that an Alpha wants Beacon Hills for their own, Derek and Stiles are forced to attend a couples retreat at a ski resort to learn their enemy’s identity. However, the threat is the least of Derek’s problems when he’s expected to fake a relationship, share a bed and suffer through candlelit dinners with the man he’s secretly been in love with for the past four years.

Waiting for Winter by Twice_Shy (notboldly) | 3.2K

Everyone had a soulmark, a special shape on their body that formed during childhood and was meant to lead each person to their soulmate.

Unfortunately, Derek’s soulmark is shaped like a snowflake, and that fact has been actively ruining his life since he was six years old.

world tilts by wearing_tearing | 1.5K

The guy is gorgeous as hell, and Stiles kind of wishes he could stare at him forever.

He figures he deserves a treat after almost slipping to his death.

Wait, What? by wangler | 5.3K

When a significant portion of the Beacon Hills Preserve ends up coated in three entire inches of snow, the pack looks into it. If by looking into it one means packing a bunch of garbage bags and huge Tupperware lids into the back of Stiles’ Jeep to go look for a decent sledding hill. Things go sideways, because of course they do.

A Very Sterek Christmas by TobyRosetta | 13.5K

It’s actually snowing in Beacon Hills, and it’s got everyone out of whack. Out of the kindness of his own heart, Stiles decides to take some things up to the the old Hale Mansion for old Sourwolf himself. But when the storm kicks up and snows them both in, the night takes an interesting turn.

Blanketed by got_the_bite | 3.3K

“Stiles, where are you?” Derek demands again. His voice is higher than usual Stiles notes.

“You would be such a nice tenor if you joined a choir,” Stiles thinks aloud.

But In Case I Stand One Little Chance by mikkimouse | 8.6K

Stiles’s Jeep breaks down in the middle of the snowstorm. He’s rescued by his high school crush, and as the cherry on top, is trapped in a cabin with said crush until the roads clear.

Fuck his life.

Snow Flirting by thepsychicclam | 11,396

As Beacon Hills get pounded with foot after foot of snow, single dad Stiles can't quite keep up with his four year old, his job, and shoveling his driveway. Derek makes his teenage son shovel Stiles' walk, and that just leads to Derek helping Stiles out with a whole bunch of other tasks. That's okay with Derek, though, cause any chance to be with Stiles is okay with him.

Baby, It's Cold Outside by Jebiwonkenobi | 2,791

Beacon Hills has a snow storm. Totally-not-cuddling happens.

Come Fly With Me (Or Don't) by stilinskisparkles | 15,325

Stiles is overworked and stressed out when his flight home gets delayed due to copious amounts of snow. He finds entertainment with one Derek Hale, whom he hasn't seen since high school but really doesn't mind getting reacquainted with.

Especially when it turns out Derek is surprisingly hilarious and will reluctantly play snap with him. And can walk on his hands.

The Man in the Snow by mikkimouse | 15,894

Derek finds a young man injured in a ravine on the border of his ranch. That's strange enough, but the mystery only deepens when the young man wakes up without any memory of what he was doing out there.

Blizzard Boyfriend by literaryoblivion | 1,897

With a record-breaking snowstorm on the horizon, threatening a city shutdown for a few days, Stiles gets the bright idea to put an ad up on craigslist for someone to spend his snow days with that would be filled with cuddling, movies, alcohol, and potential makeouts or more.

It's a joke until someone responds.

and home before dark by verity | 3,175

The mystery of the absent Hale brother was hardly a mystery at all until he appeared at last, set on taking up residence out in the woods.

(In which Derek is a hedgewitch. With a cat.)

Let it snow! Let it snow! (but please let it stop eventually) by relenafanel | 19,123

Stiles grew up with his bedroom window overlooking Derek's bedroom, so when he returns home for the holidays he's surprised to find a stranger in his nerdy neighbour's bedroom.

Only, he's not much of a stranger.

It is Derek Hale, the guy who is going to be his new step brother, if the rumours are true.

Red Against the Snow by Ember | 34,219

Stiles is trapped for the holidays in the cabin of a strange man/hermit named Derek. A strangely friendly wolf befriends Stiles during his stay. It's up to the teenager to find out why Derek has secluded himself from society, what the feelings he's beginning to have means, and what the connection between the mysterious man and the mysterious black wolf is.

an exaltation of larks by llassah | 25,370

All Derek wants is to get through the lambing season with his body and spirit intact. He had thought that the blizzards would be the main danger, not a highborn omega with beautiful eyes and a stubborn streak.

The flamingo in the yard by Vendelin | 6,107

It isn't fair that Stiles needs to work Christmas, when his dad is on the other side of the country. Or that his really hot, next door neighbour is around for the holidays as well. Or that there's a power outage that makes things even worse. Or better.

(Fake) Winter Weather Brings Us Together by tylerfucklin (zimothy) | 10,535

So naked cuddling with Derek while suffering from hypothermia wasn't really on Stiles' to-do list for the week, but neither was that kiss--so who was Stiles to complain?

It's a Wild Pitch (But He's a Contact Hitter) by jettiebettie | 11,828

They're combating supernatural forces with blunt instruments now. Seems legit. As long as Stiles doesn't end up getting frostbite, he's willing to roll with it. Not that his friends have to worry about that. Fucking werewolves.

Abominable by Revenant | 20,277

Where Derek buys a secluded cabin halfway up a mountain, meets a yeti and falls in love with Stiles, but not necessarily in that order.

stilinski v. a. snowman | tumblr ficlet

This fic was inspired by this prompt: ‘we’re stuck in a log cabin overnight during a snowstorm bc of some stupid school team building exercise and it’s freEzing and I can’t sleep and you can hear me shivering in the next bed so you pick me up and dump in your bed and good grief you are hot in every sense of the word’ au

#sterek fics #ficrecs #snowed in #winter #winter fics #snowstorms #this is so long #🤦🏻‍♀️#starsandmoony

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astoryinred · 3 years

Text

"Trese" and the truth in the fiction

In short: why the actual monsters in Trese don't have horns, wings, or summoning rituals

Finally the Netflix anime adaptation of the Filipino graphic novel/comics series "Trese" has dropped. It is available in several languages such as English, Filipino, Japanese, Spanish...just to name a few. It is not a perfect work, both in technical terms as well as an adaptation of the source material, but it is worth a watch. Go watch it. Please.

That being said, there is so much to unpack about the series, and I do not mean in terms of the voice-acting and the ethnicities of the persons involved, or just how crunched together the writing is. I will leave that to the critics. What I am writing here is a view as to the real life truths woven into the horror/supernatural threads of the "Trese" episodes, and why these are important. It's because for a lot of people encountering "Trese" at this point, the actual every day monsters of the tale (or at least of the first 4 episodes) are even more distant than the aswangs, tikbalangs, nunos and other supernatural beings that populate the anime.

This will go into spoilers below the cut

Episode 1: The series opens with a train stopping right near the "Guadalupe Station", and some of its passengers being attacked by aswang as they walk along the railroad tracks. During the course of investigating this and another case (that of a ghost murdered on Balete Drive), Alexandra Trese learns that other spirits using this train line have recently perished in a fire or have also been murdered by aswang in league with a politician.

The squatter/informal settler community mentioned in this episode is based on a real one. That area has gone up in flames from accidental and not so accidental fires over the past few decades. Some of the settlers have moved on, but a good many have stubbornly stuck around despite the land being eyed by a large property developer. That area is a symptom of the inequality that plagues that particular part of the metropolis, since it is only less than a mile away from some of the country's swankiest gated subdivisions. While the powers that be are (probably) not involved in selling anyone for meat, they still have a long way to go to address the woes of that community when it is not election season.

As for the other murder in the episode? There have been several cases of women associated with or married to prominent politicians who have died in mysterious circumstances, with some of these deaths ruled as suicide. In many cases, the truth has been hushed up, or simply swept under the rug.

Episode 2: While Alexandra is pursuing the trail of a tikbalang running wild in the city, she also is called to investigate a mysterious series of electrocutions in a gated village. Along the way she discovers that this is a form of human sacrifice to the bagyons manning the electricity providers of the city.

As reprehensible as the bagyons are, what is truly sickening is the seeming indifference of the people in Livewell Village. It's mentioned more in the comics (but also given a line or two of exposition here by the Nuno) that the people regularly offer an outsider, usually a skilled worker in charge of maintenance, to ensure that the bagyon will bless them. In real life there is the callousness that some people exhibit towards essential workers such as yes, repairmen and electricians who have to endure heights and storms just to ensure the "comfort" of consumers. Although the Philippines isn't a country crawling with litiginous folk and "Karens", there are enough of this sort to make essential workers' lives miserable on a daily basis.

Episode 3: This is a difficult one, both in the comics and the anime. One of Trese's cases leads her to cross paths with an actress named Nova, who is later revealed to have had her child left to die (hence making her a target for a specific type of monster). Nova's story is admittedly not easy to deal with and may be considered incredulous, but there are two important contexts to remember when watching it.

The first is that abortion is still illegal throughout the Philippines. It cannot be legally offered by any clinic or medical practitioner. There are clandestine alternatives available, but at a steep price.

That being said, most Filipinos regardless of where they stand on the abortion issue will still consider the abandonment or murder of an infant to be beyond the pale. Yet this does happen. Every month one can expect to read a story or two of babies being tossed in the trash or left in bathrooms---and those are just the stories that make it to the press. There have been exposes about mothers who have sold off their infants to "adopters" willing to pay thousands of pesos or dollars for an under the table transfer of custody. These happen because of desperation, poverty, and lack of resources to support mothers. Maternity leave is only up to 120 days here in most cases, and there are few resources to support mothers with PPD, mothers abandoned by their partners, or those with just too many mouths to feed. Questions of "bodily autonomy" are not first and foremost in the mind of many women who do the worst to their newborns; the question is food on the table for the next day or the day after. Survival is key. Not independence or empowerment.

With these in mind, it is not surprising that Nova is considered one of the most disturbing and reprehensible characters in this episode. From what we see, her choice of abandoning her child stems from vanity and pursuit of a glamorous career. We can see that this is not because she would be out on the streets if she had a child to care for, or because she was escaping something. It's just portrayed as pure selfishness.

It is interesting that Nova is introduced here almost as a juxtaposition to another mother, Ramona. Ramona, the mother of Crispin and Basilio, is an armed insurgent who engages in a ritual to avenge herself on the military men who forced her to murder her own comrades. It is also implied earlier in the season that it was not just murder involved, but that Ramona had also been a "prize" given to the soldiers who captured her. And yes in this context, it can also mean rape. The Armed Forces of the Philippines does not have a shining record when it comes to its treatment of women dissidents and prisoners. This backstory does not justify what Ramona does for the remainder of her screentime, but it does show why she has absolutely no sympathy or mercy to give to anyone outside of her two children. She is part of a cycle of killing that makes any peaceful resolution of the insurgency in the Philippines so difficult to achieve. Both sides behave abominably, and civillians do get caught in the crossfire (or explosions).

Episode 4: Much of this episode revolves around the events in and surrounding a certain police station located near a large public cemetery. We see that the police chief Captain Guerrero has his hands full with cases and keeping his subordinates in line. The cops in the precinct range from the innocent apparent newcomer Tapia to the more stereotypical "asshole" cops Reyes and company. Later it is discovered that the bodies apparently "stolen" from the graves are resurrected zombies who are being directed to attack the station for a specific reason...and it has to do with how the police run their often bloody operations.

The real life neighborhoods surrounding the cemetery have seen their share of violence and "extra judicial killings". In some houses there are still candles and placards calling for justice for family members killed in raids or accused of having been drug suspects (almost a death sentence in the Philippines 2016 onwards). Eyewitnesses and CCTV footage show members of the police force taking part in these raids and clandestine operations. The worst part? The neighborhoods surrounding that particular cemetery haven't even seen the worst of it. Other disadvantaged communities in the north of the metropolis have seen even more deaths of this sort...with some of the deaths being those of children. Google the name of Kian delos Santos as a test case. Kian's case was one of the few to have extended media coverage, and even then the resolution has been rather wanting.

It is tempting to go into the "all cops are bastards" line of thought with this episode, but I do like how Captain Guerrero is forced to interact with someone who he is trying to save in the station, since as it turns out this person has recently lost a family member to this form of senseless murder. Captain Guerrero and the audience are led to remember that these victims have names. They had families. They had lives. They are more than body counts and statistics. That scene is one of the most humanizing of the series, and shows that while not all cops are bastards, there is enough rot in the institution to make it a problem.

Episodes 5-6: I would go more into Episodes 5 and 6, but those deserve a whole new treatment into the nature of truth, compromise, and even gaslighting (even I am not sure how much of a certain character's narrative is true, and how much is just meant to confuse Alexandra with regard to what she knows of her father). The context she does face before those harrowing revelations is a very real one though: things going wrong in a penitentiary.

The penal system of the Philippines is alarmingly punitive and full of inequities. Privileged inmates like politicians do receive special treatment (including media coverage and becoming leaders of factions) while less privileged inmates languish and must struggle to survive the brutal social hiearchy in some institutions. And yes it has happened that inmates have been sent out to do "jobs" of murder and arson in the outside world, often being snuck in and out. A movie that tackles this aspect better is "OTJ (On the Job)" directed by Erik Matti. That one will keep you up at night.

The ending of Episode 6 is rather ambiguous, and it remains to be seen what Alexandra really experienced during her trials prior to becoming a detective, and what her father really did to her and her sibling. We'll have to wait for another season to get to the bottom of that. But if the anime will continue to draw from the comics themselves for stories/case files, we can count on seeing more societal demons and baddies alongside the supernatural ones. And those are the villains that Alexandra Trese cannot just readily beat; it will take a heck lot more than a babaylan na mandirigma to handle those!

#trese #tw:infanticide #tw:gore #tw:abortion #tw:horror #tw: suicide #tw: implied rape

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neonthewrite · 3 years

Text

Washed Up Winchesters 8 (Final)

The mystery is solved and the case closed! It seems the Winchesters didn't quite expect things to go this way, but when there's a giant involved, all kinds of things go differently!

Cowritten with @nightmares06, the writer behind the @brothersapart multiverse!

( 1 ) ( 2 ) ( 3 ) ( 4 ) ( 5 ) ( 6 ) ( 7 ) -8-

Story Tag

Read Time ~10 minutes

~~~~~

Chase pushed himself up and shook his head. He was more used to being swept up in a giant hand, but toppling over a few times had winded him. He frowned over the edge of the hand, then over at Sam. “What?”

Jacob’s other hand lifted to be level with them. Minnie was clinging to his thumb and scanning the flock of sheep warily. They were all still milling around, keeping a tight group, several of them aiming disdainful baaas up in the air. Dean’s defiant stand over their heads certainly had not gone unnoticed. Minnie had never seen sheep act like that, certainly not in the shadow of a giant. “Sam?”

"Th-the sheep!" Sam gestured in the direction of the hostile flock. "We're chasing skinwalkers, not werewolves! They can be any type of animal, so long as it's what the pack started out as!"

The confusion on Dean's face cleared. "So you're saying this flock is the people we've been chasing the whole time?"

Sam nodded at the silver knife in Dean's hand. "One way to find out for sure."

Jacob frowned pensively. Even after hearing about how dangerous the skinwalkers were, he could hardly imagine the flock of fluffy sheep before him causing much trouble. Mostly they milled around among each other, all keeping tabs on Dean with his glimmering knife. It was weird that they didn't even want to run from Jacob, but he hadn't made any moves against them.

Even Chase and Minnie had been mostly spared. Chase had only fallen over because he kept trying to pull Dean up.

Jacob decided to throw in his two cents. "I mean, they're… they're not really doing anything," he pointed out.

"Except yelling at us," Chase agreed, waving a hand at a ram that bleated insistently up at him.

"Wait," Minnie chimed in, her brow pinching with confusion. "Do they understand what we're saying when they're in their whatever-form?"

Sam circled a hand through the air aimlessly, trying to gather his thoughts and what he knew of their current enemies. "Skinwalkers aren't like werewolves, who give in to their more... animalistic side when they transform. They maintain their regular consciousness and memory. The main danger is that they can transfer their ability with a bite, increasing the size of their pack... or flock." Sam gave the flock of sheep a strange look. He'd never encountered supernatural creatures in the guise of herbivores like the sheep. This case was shaping up to be unique in more ways than one.

"That means," Sam continued, "they know just who we are, and anything we said while we were here. Which is why they were so quick to lunge at me and Dean. They already found us once on the ship, when they were in their human forms. We couldn't stay under cover, and ended up tossed overboard."

Minnie frowned critically over the side of Jacob’s hand, even as the giant lifted everyone slightly higher. If those sheep really were skinwalkers, and at this point they certainly weren’t acting like normal sheep, they’d just let the group wander among them. She’d patted their heads and tried to click at them like she did with her lambs back home and everything. The feeling that wormed into her gut was something like betrayal.

“So these guys might be the reason I found you floundering out in the waves,” Jacob echoed, a disapproving frown on his face.

“Well what do they--” Chase began, asking Sam first before looking over the side of the hand at the nearest sheep bleating up at them. “What do you want in Lilliput then?!”

For a long moment, it appeared as though Chase's demand would go unanswered. The sheep milled restlessly around, giving Jacob's feet a wide berth as they bleated.

Then, the ram that had given Dean a runaround when he was on the ground stepped out into an opening that formed in the flock. It cocked its head, fixing one eye on the hand that held Chase, Minnie, Sam and Dean. Its expression was impossible to read as it looked them over, one by one.

There was a shift, and then the ram's horns appeared to melt away. Several cracks could be heard as its back shifted to an upright position, and the hooves split into four fingers and a thumb.

After less than ten seconds from when the shift started, the ram stood there as a regal and distinguished looking man, dressed in a simple white shirt and dark pants. He frowned at the people in Jacob's hand, then up at the giant himself.

"As I recall," the man said, "you were the ones to smuggle onto our ship when we had done nothing to you in turn, stinking of silver and gunpowder."

Seeing the transformation had been more than enough to leave Jacob, Minnie, and even Chase speechless for a hesitant moment. Jacob’s mouth opened slightly, as amazed as he’d been the first time he met Chase. He had never really thought about tiny people existing anywhere before. He definitely hadn’t imagined them having the ability to turn into tiny sheep. “Uh. Wh… what,” he muttered.

“I mean. I guess that’s technically true,” Chase finally admitted, sending an uncomfortable sideways glance at Sam and Dean. He frowned down at the apparent leader of a flock of sheep skinwalkers. “So … are skinwalkers usually dangerous, or not? ‘Cause I feel like that would clear up a lot, knowing what you actually plan to do in Lilliput, right?”

The man’s lip curled in disgust. “Oh, please,” he said disparagingly. “Unlike our more… wolf-ish cousins, we have no interest in anyone’s hearts.”

Next to him, a second sheep transformed back. This one was shorter, and he had very mousy features in comparison to the ram’s dignified look. “But we like Romaine hearts,” he stuttered out insistently. “Right? Right?!”

“Please, Jerimiah,” the ram said. “This situation is delicate enough without your help.” He turned to look up at the Lilliputians and Blefuscians held in the giant’s hand. “Haven’t you ever heard ‘The grass is greener on the other side?’ We are here in search of better pastures. Nothing more.”

Chase’s mouth opened in a delighted grin over the bad pun. Before he could try to chime in with his own, Minnie slapped his arm with the back of her hand. In her opinion, she had enough to deal with without her brother adding to the pile. She’d thought this was a poor lost flock of sheep. Not an intentional group of … magic shapeshifting squatters. “So are Sam and Dean the only ones you hurt, or …?”

Jacob heaved a slow sigh. Minnie had a point. If they had left behind more than just Sam and Dean, it would be dangerous having the shapeshifters around Lilliput too. “Yeah, I mean. I’m pretty sure I can outrun you guys, but what’s to stop you from sneaking along later and trying something again? Are Chase and Minnie here in danger because they know your secret?”

The ram’s mouth twisted in annoyance. “All we want is green fields and calm waters,” he explained. “Any Blefuscans that we ran into, we ran off, nothing more. These… hunters that followed us were the most persistent, and I couldn’t risk the safety of my flock. Throwing them off the ship was only done as a last resort.”

Looking over the rest of the flock, and a brief glance at the twitchy Jerimiah, the ram shook his head in doubt. “Perhaps it was merely a pipe dream to find a place free of warmongering, but we had to try.”

“So…” Sam tentatively leaned forward. “Your main plan is to get as far from civilization, and stay there?”

“Sammy…” Dean started, but was ignored.

The ram nodded. “It seemed like a more likely situation to find in Lilliput compared to Blefuscu. Such an idyllic land…” He turned to Chase and Minnie. “No one here is at risk from my flock, I give you my word. Even if we get sent back to Blefuscu.” The last statement was said with a sideways glance at Dean.

The guy seemed genuine enough. Having lived in Lilliput for a bit, Jacob knew the locals to be fussy but harmless. They would likely be too caught up in their own drama to notice an extra flock of sheep up past the hills, especially since no one really wandered this far anyway. He decided that he believed the stern little guy.

It wasn't really up to him, though. He lowered his hands a bit, not enough to put his passengers at risk but at least to bring them more level with the ram. "Whatcha think, Chase? Minnie?"

"It's weird," Chase said, practically bursting for an opening to speak up. "Sheep-people .... sheepshifters!"

Minnie smacked his arm. "How is that helping?" she scolded, before addressing the ram again. "I don't think anyone uses these pastures so you won't get anyone upset. But will you even be safe out here? From wolves and things, I mean?"

The ram looked down his nose at her. “Wolves have been our problem since the start,” he said with a sharp look sent in Dean’s direction. “We haven’t been able to shake them yet.”

Sam stepped between Dean and the ram with an arm to separate them, before thoughtless words could be thrown. “If we leave you be, does this mean you’ll leave the Lilliputians alone?” he asked, trying to keep the focus. “We’re only here to deal with threats.”

The ram sighed. “We won’t bother a soul, you have my word. So long as we have our pastures.”

Sam put his arm down. “I think our job’s done then,” he said. “They’ll just need a safe place to call home now.”

“This works,” Chase agreed, gesturing at the current pasture. Aside from Jacob looming over the field with several people standing on his hands, it was a simple, idyllic view. The area was lush, if a bit wild, and unbothered by Lilliput or Blefuscu. “We even have Jacob here to come check on you sometimes if you need anything.”

Jacob rolled his eyes at being volunteered so easily. It was his lot in life anymore, to have Chase suggest him for any task that needed doing. “I have a pretty easy time getting over here,” he agreed anyway. “If you need supplies.”

Minnie glanced over at Sam and Dean. Sam seemed mollified, though Dean looked as ready for a fight as ever. Looking back at the sheep, she gave them an exaggerated shrug. “Looks like everyone’s okay, so … it all worked out? This time?”

The ram gave Minnie a stiff half-bow, looking uncomfortable with the unfamiliar gesture. “We will hold up our end of the bargain,” he promised.

With a quick shift, the man again turned into a ram. Large, curving horns came out of his forehead first before he fell forward onto a new set of hooves. By the time he hit the ground, he could have blended in with any herd of sheep and proceeded to walk amongst the others. Jerimiah followed suit next. Then, a slowly stirring wave expanded throughout the herd until they were all heading in the same ambling direction.

Sam sighed, blowing out his bangs. “Case closed.”

“Weirdest case ever,” Dean complained. “Almost as weird as running into the actual giant in the lands.” He sent Jacob a side-eye. “Maybe next time we’re in Lilliput, we can enlist some extra help again?” Despite his usual gruff tone of voice, the interest in having a giant helper shone right through.

Chase drew himself up proudly, though he still stood notably shorter than either brother. “We’re totally ready to kick some ass, anytime we’re needed.”

Minnie rolled her eyes. “Preeeetty sure they were asking for Jacob,” she pointed out, nudging Chase with an elbow.

“Hey! I helped!”

Jacob smirked. He’d gotten somewhat used to the surly attitude from Dean. It seemed the little folk over in Blefuscu could be just as excitable as the Lilliputians he’d come to know. Chase and Minnie’s antics were practically a given. “I’m basically a glorified taxi,” he warned. “But I’ll be here.”

#mywriting #collab #washed up winchesters #chase in lilliput au #chase lisong #minnie lisong #sam winchester #dean winchester #jacob andris #supernatural fanfiction #gullivers travels fanfiction #g/t #g/t handheld #it's over .... just like that

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glowinggator · 4 years

Text

Chicago Lightning

Summary: You and the rest of the Mud Dogs plan a heist on a bank, and end up getting into a pretty serious gun fight. It’s way different from what you usually attempt, but where there’s a will, there’s a way.

[A/N: Good evening, fellow Mud Dogs enjoyers <3 These three live in my head rent FREE and by god, I’m gonna make that everyone else’s problem.]

Content Warnings: Gunfights, mild arson, copious swearing, crime, and the fear of death. Nobody dies, and there’s a happy ending. <3

Pairing: Mud Dogs/Reader (Platonic/Familial)

Word Count: 1572

God, your ears are gonna be fucking ringing tomorrow. Whoever suggested staging a robbery is certainly going to get a verbal beating, if you even make it out of here in the first place. The deafening “crack” of a bullet tearing by instinctively pushes you further into the white, porcelain countertop, and you blindly fire a few rounds from behind cover. Your ears ring at the noise, and your legs ache dully from crouching down for so long.

“What’s the plan?” You yell, glancing nervously towards the pillar where Leonard’s taking cover.

“I don’t know!” he yells back, “Give me a minute to think!” He taps his fingers against the muzzle of the glock, eyes glancing around the building. Dust from ricocheting bullets clouds the air, sending pits of granite and porcelain dust through the room. The light filters through them, although just barely so. You hardly even recognize the building anymore, you think to yourself. Leonard fires a few shots from behind the pillar before taking cover once more, looking up at the ceiling with furrowed brows.

“Hate to burst your bubble, Loathsome,” Danny yells from your left, “But we’re already a bit behind the eight ball here. We don’t have time to spare!”

“Yeah, no shit!” Mickey yells, “And I’m not really in my element, either.” He fires off a couple shots, and the recoil from the gun is obvious despite his white-knuckle grip on the firearm. He scowls, turning to fire off a few more shots from the other side of the counter. What he lacks in experience he makes up for in pure gusto.

“Easy on the lightning, pal!” Danny calls, “we ain’t exactly armed to the teeth, here. If we run out of ammo, we’re screwed!”

“I’ve got it!” Leonard yells to you, “Grab those bottles of hand sanitizer off the counter and throw ‘em to Mickey. We’re gonna light it on fire, throw it at ‘em, and bolt for the back.”

“Then what?” You say, grabbing the bottles and throwing them to your friend.

“Steal a fucking car, I guess? What else?”

“Sounds good to me!” Mickey calls. His eyes light up as he disassembles the bottles, twisting and turning a few paper bills to create a sizable fuse that leads out of the liquid disinfectant, like the true firebug he is. If they land just right, it should spread quickly enough to get out of control. If they land perfectly, that is. But you’re not gonna have time to tell, are you? You just have to pray that it does, and if it doesn’t, that it burns hot enough to stall them. Oh, how you’re lamenting skipping out on that oxidation unit in chemistry class.

“Just tell me when!” He shouts, although you can barely hear him over the crack of yet another bullet flying by, a little too close for comfort.

You look back towards the emergency exit, steeling yourself to run. The bright red sign flickers slowly, just barely clinging to life after being struck with a stray bullet. You tear your eyes away from the door, glancing at your friends nervously. The air between all of you isn’t peaceful: not by any means. But it’s full of understanding: An understanding that if there’s any real, perfect way to go out, it would be right here. Danny’s grip tightens on his gun, and the tip of his tail twitches slightly, as though he were fighting the sensation entirely. Leonard’s eyes flit around the room quickly, scowling down the opposition on the other side of the building. Yet when he turns to the rest of you, his eyebrows soften. And Mickey’s apprehension… God, he’s doing a great job of hiding it. He smiles brightly, but the look in his eyes clearly conveys his thoughts. His fingers twitch around the plastic bottle, peeling at the wrapper as though looking for something to tether him to the world. The pops of your enemy’s guns might as well be static, for all you care.

But it’s the chipping of porcelain, the crack of a supersonic bullet whizzing past you, and the pop of yet another gun that brings you out of your stupor. The corner of the porcelain countertop chips off and falls to your feet, and you can feel your heart leap into your chest. Had you been leaning out any farther, you’d be dead. Your breath catches in your throat, and you throw yourself deeper into cover. You whip your head around to Leonard, steeling your nerves and throwing him a firm nod.

“On three!” He shouts.

“One!”

Inhale. You’re all gonna be okay.

“Two!”

Exhale. You shoot one last look at your friends and set your eyes on the door.

“Three!”

Mickey shocks the flammable paper leading out of the bottle and chucks it towards the entrance of the building the moment it forms a strong and steady flame. And for a moment, the world moves in slow motion. It arcs wildly, but the flame persists nonetheless, crawling its way into the bottle. It hits the ground with a thunk - much less grand than your traditional molotov, you remark sarcastically - and splatters. The flame jumps from puddle to puddle, quickly spreading out of control. The rest of the containers are thrown haphazardly, which only fuels the intense and wild flames: it eats at the carpet, the walls, anywhere it can reach. And with that, all four of you bolt towards the exit.

Your feet pound against the carpet, and you’re the first to reach the door. You ram your shoulder against the bar, opening it quickly for everyone to follow out. You bolt for the nearest car, looking back once to make sure everyone’s made it out. And sure enough, they have. The nearest car is an old four-door, and you pray to every deity you can think of as you race towards it. You shoot at the passenger side window, shattering the glass almost instantly, and you throw your hand through the jagged pieces to unlock the car as quickly as possible. You throw open the car door, ripping off your jacket and throwing it over the broken glass on the seat before patting around the car for a spare key. You don’t have any fucking time to hotwire the damn thing, and who the fuck knows what year this thing is from?

You breathe a sigh of relief when you find it and clamber into the car, jamming the jagged end of the key into the ignition and smiling as the car roars to life. Danny is the second to reach the car, sliding over the hood to hop in the passenger side. Mickey is the third, as Leonard runs behind him, providing covering fire for the smaller man. You reach behind your seat, pulling up the lock for him to tear open the door. And with that, Leonard runs the final few feet to the car, throwing himself in the door that’s already open and sliding in next to Mickey. You don’t waste a second, throwing the car into reverse before speeding out of the lot.

The force throws you harshly back into your seat, but you can’t help but laugh. “We made it out! Holy shit!” You put the pedal to the metal, gripping the steering wheel tightly as you floor it down the street. The buildings zip by so fast that they’re hardly more than a blur, and you revel in the adrenaline rush. The boys laugh alongside you, still reeling from their escape. You swerve off the small street and onto the highway; hopefully, you’ll be able to turn off onto the countryside at some point and find a remote place to lie low while the heat dies down. A farmhouse would be nice, you hum to yourself, although who really knows where you’ll end up this time?

Mickey leans forward through the armrest. “Dude,” he laughs, “that was the coolest shit ever!”

“We almost died,” Danny chuckles, dragging his hand along the armrest, flicking off little pieces of glass as he goes, “But I have to admit... it was pretty incredible.”

“See? I told you guys I had it all figured out,” Leonard says, “And look at all this fucking cash! Even after Big Mama’s cut, we’re still gonna be rich.”

“And did you see how quickly that fire spread? You might as well have doused the damn building in Everclear!” Mickey laughs, “Something tells me that place won’t be there tomorrow.”

The highway is practically abandoned, perhaps because of the recent events. And for that, you’re thankful. You’re sure that in a few minutes you’ll be chased down by those blue and red lights, but for now, everything is okay. You press the pedal down as far as you can, making as much distance as possible before the chase starts up once more, and you chuckle. Danny rests his arm on the window, picking up little pieces of shattered glass off of his seat and throwing it out onto the highway. That’ll be someone else’s problem then, you think to yourself. He meets your gaze with a smile, and you return it happily. Mickey and Leonard shove each other playfully in the back seat as they rifle through the duffle bags, presumably counting your earnings.

“So,” you muse, “how many days do you think it’ll take before we can go to a restaurant without getting arrested?”

#mud dogs x reader #rottmnt imagine #rottmnt x reader #tmnt imagine #tmnt x reader #not me getting emotionally attached to characters with like five minutes of screentime ertcyvbjnlhkjgc #loathsome leonard x reader #dastardly danny x reader #malicious mickey x reader #rottmnt dastardly danny #rottmnt loathsome leonard #rottmnt malicious mickey #rottmnt mud dogs x reader

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

This chapter is very dialogue heavy. Stephen Strange being a little bit of a dick and Tony being a sweetheart. No warnings here, just plot and worldbuilding. I think Tony is his own warning to be honest... Do we want fun facts before each chapter like before or nah?

Sorcerer Strange stared at me with the heat of a plasma beam after I finished stuttering throughout my story, one accurate eyebrow raised and sharp cheekbones painting him displeased and dangerous in the yellow light of the store lamps. The whole experience shook me more than I would have liked to admit to myself and his mute reaction wasn't helping matters at all.

"Hmph," he finally cleared his throat, taking a step back and casting a thoughtful look over the shelves in the store. "You did all you could. Perhaps, we owe you gratitude," his tone was far kinder than his face. "How long have you been doing... This?" He vaguely gestured with a gloved hand.

"Long enough," I replied without thinking. My stress levels urgently rose above acceptable and the feelings needed to be let out now; Wong's dismissive attitude and Strange's half-assed apology for the attitude was still fresh in my mind.

The sorcerer sighed, briefly touching the bridge of his nose. "I won't pretend to understand the reason for your hostility but I'd like to remind you we're on the same side here," his steely blue eyes attempted to peer into my soul.

"There are no sides here," whatever he was selling, I wasn't buying it. "There are just people who get hurt, either because of unstable maniacs with superpowers or aliens who think Earth is an all-you-can-kill buffet," I stuck my dirty, bloody hands in my pockets. "You do your part in mitigating the damage, I do mine. That's all there is."

"And you would be making my job expotentionally harder if you get in the way and slow down professionals, even if you mean well," the man's temper had, evidently, won over and he immediately got on the defensive, crossing his arms and trying to glare me down.

Odette's words rang true, starting a storm of hollow anger in the pit of my skull. "Now listen here, you privileged prick," the damn burst at the seams as I squared up to give him a piece of my mind. "You and your Hogwarts rejects and the merry band of billionaires may have the opportunity to 24/7 healthcare and near-instant compensation for any damages the villain of the week decides to bestow upon your shallow little heads," I advanced half a step towards Strange, hands bailed into tight fists, internally rejoicing at the way he leaned back. My blood sang with adrenaline as I breathed the exhilaration.

"But how many people do you overlook? How many children never make it because your super secret organisation gives their parents an ultimatum just because they are different? This is a safe space for the ones you pretend not to see until it's convenient and it will stay that way, over my fucking dead body, if need be," I stared at the tall man, almost physically feeling his brain halt and pause with the cartoony sound of screeching tires. Whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this.

A pregnant pause hung in the air, both of us waiting for the other to explode.

"Don't you think I am aware," Strange finally seethed through gritted teeth, alarming golden sparks shining in his eyes. "The Avengers are not under the rule of SHIELD and I, personally, have no affiliation with either. I do not condone their barbaric methods," the man was struggling to form his sentences properly but even despite that, I understood his ideas.

I desperately wanted to believe his words to be true, I really did, but... "Then do your fucking job and let me do mine. I do not go out there and intervene, I merely clean up the mess you all leave. Something that nobody wants to do do, so unless you've got any takers, I'll keep helping those you deem unfit," in a fit of muted rage, I flew my arm to point at the abandoned cars and destroyed concrete outside of the window, the empty street and the clouds of dust rising into the moody skies.

The entrance door flew open suddenly, with a force strong enough to bang the heavy, old handle against something outside, letting in the stuffy air inside the bodega. Strange jumped at the sound of the screaming hinges, my own heart skipping a beat from the startling interruption.

Visibly composing himself, the man pierced me with a final stare before starting a dangerously quiet, "Very well, goodbye," and hightailing it out of Odette's before disappearing in a golden circle just outside the front porch.

I let my shoulders sag for a brief moment of respite, feeling the tension bleed out of me and penetrate every nook and cranny in the room. My protection charms were mostly destroyed, silver dull, glass and amber crackled. Tossing them into the appropriate recycling bin, I set to clean up the shop, flying through the motions in record time and wandering home through the damaged streets on autopilot.

My anger had cost me more than a fortune in my past but no matter how much I sought to reason with myself, I couldn't bring it to justify Strange's attitude towards my choices. The more I thought about it, the less rational my guesses became; I forced myself to stop thinking about it when my brain had unhelpfully supplied an absurd notion of him being jealous of my lifestyle: he knew next to nothing of my skills and his opinion was based solely on seeing me work the store front and one cleansing spell I'd performed on Bucky. There was simply no rational explanation for his behaviour.

NYC life wasn't affected by the battle in the slightest, it seemed; a day and a half later, I was back at Jeremy's, serving overpriced hot beverages to the rich and the busy. I'd slept on the Bucky and Strange situation, got a handle on my feelings and decided to simply put it away. There were other, more pressing things to worry about than a couple of men.

I didn't expect the flood of anxiety that turned my hands to lead upon seeing Tony Stark's signature suit-and-sunglasses wearing ass waltz into the café. He flashed me his usual easy grin but didn't remove his glasses, eyes eerily blank behind them, as he motioned for his usual order before leaning on the countertop with the entirety of his upper body. "So, Starshine, what is it exactly that you do?" Came the question I was dreading. "Are you, like, a witch? The broomstick and cauldron kind?"

"Mr. Stark, I am serving you coffee and a muffin as we speak," I replied curtly, raising an eyebrow.

"Drop the act, honeybuns. I thought we were friends," if I squinted, I could see that he was genuinely hurt by my lack of desire to communicate. Or, perhaps, he simply was unused to not satisfying his curiosities immediately.

Either way, I stood no chance against Stark patented puppy eyes. "I clock out at two," a sigh of epic magnitude left my mouth against my will. "You can interrogate me then. Until that, it's lattes and cheesecakes only."

Tony narrowed his eyes, smile warming up by a smidgen. "Interrogate you? Never," he pocketed the napkin with Dr. Banner's scribbles the doc had forgotten last time. "I'm merely curious." Another flash of his teeth and he was gone, taking what little peace I had left along with him.

The hands on the clock made their hurried rounds over and over. My chest had grown it's own set of ticking, grinding, mismatched gears as the endless possibilities coursed a steady stream through my head. Tony Stark was a wild card, his struggles with authority a widely known fact, as frequent as his strange habits in just about anything. And while I doubted I would get ambushed and locked up, I had no qualms of him berating me for telling off his boyfriend. He seemed like the possessive, overprotective type, anyways.

As soon as I exited the café, surrounded by the smells of flour and coffee grounds, my eyes immediately landed on the shiny, brand new Audi illegally parked right in front of the establishment, it's owner leisurely leaning against the hood with a face of contented boredom as passerby pedestrians shamelessly ogled him and his ride. His face lit up as he noticed me, immediately rushing to hold the passenger side door open for my comfort. "M'lady," the dorky remark didn't fail to summon a smile to my face even if it was a weak shadow of my usual camaraderie.

"Mr. Stark," I greeted him as soon as he peeled off the crowded sidewalk.

The lack of joy on my face didn't go unnoticed by him and every now and then, he snuck a glance at my face. "Relax, Starshine, I won't bite."

"Well," I mumbled, remembering the vicious way I had torn into his boyfriend. "Good to know."

Seeing as that didn't do much for my nerves, he suddenly swerved right, rushing into a busy intersection with the ease of a practiced manic driver. "I'm feeling like a cheeseburger," he announced unceremoniously, pulling into a parking lot of some place I never noticed.

I doubted that I could swallow anything at all but relented, sitting down opposite him in the furthest booth from the entrance. I ordered the biggest milkshake they had as Tony grinned big at the waitress, finally taking off his sunglasses when she left for the kitchen.

I rested my elbows on the table under the scrutiny of his gaze. He kept quiet. I couldn't hold back my curiosity any more. "So?"

His sharp, clever brown eyes captured and held mine for the longest second in my life. I struggled not to break eye contact until he relented, focusing on the shine of my rings instead. "RoboCop almost died from the shit that happened to him," Tony's words were curt. I inhaled sharply, assuming he was talking about Barnes. The engineer's fingers began to fiddle with his glasses. "We couldn't figure out how you helped him. Not the medical, not Banner, not me and and not even Steph," he paused to run a hand through his hair. "Barnes was hit with a poisoned arrow. There were no toxins left in his body, not even a single inflammation marker showed up on the tests." With that, Tony expectantly turned to me.

I chewed on my lip in contemplation. "Magic," I simply answered, figuring Strange had already briefed him about my occupation.

Tony shook his head with a snort. "Magic that the Sorcerer Supreme doesn't recognize or cannot detect?" The question was saved in nature.

Stephen Strange was Sorcerer Supreme and I had pissed him off and remained alive. I couldn't believe my luck, if Odette's stories were anything to go by. Inwardly rejoicing, I nonetheless resigned to answer truthfully. "Because there is nothing to detect, no foreign energy," I tried to phrase it in a way a scientist could understand. "What I use to heal, it is given me by nature and willingly. Think of me as a... Conductor. I merely store the energy short-term and direct it where it is needed."

That sparked a visible interest in Tony. He leaned forward, running my whole form, over and over, with his sharp eyes, searching for something I knew he wouldn't find. "Like... Making a blood transfusion?" It was obvious that he was thinking hard about the subject. "Like a successful organ transplant?"

"Something like that," I agreed amicably, seeing as he was talking at himself rather than engaging in a conversation with me.

"But it doesn't come from nothing, the first law of thermodynamics..." He started off in slight confusion.

"Yes, the total amount of energy remains constant," I interrupted him, making his eyes widen. "It's all around us, Mr. Stark. You cannot see it, and most people even cannot feel it, but mother Earth supports her creations. More than we like to think," the corner of my mouth tilted upward at the memories. Working with Gaia directly was like being briefly submersed in a cocoon of pure, warm sunshine; like being held in mother's arms as a babe. "She is kind and she is merciful, especially to the ones whose suffering is unjust," I let the man mull over my words.

The waitress brought our orders; my throat was parched, I took a few haste gulps of the chocolate milkshake. Tony's burger, however, remained unnoticed and untouched.

"Earth is a sentient organism?"

The question made my eyebrows rise; I coughed slightly, meeting his confused eyes with a smirk. "Mr. Stark, keep your science headcanons to yourself," the banter came easily now that the status quo was established.

He rolled his eyes, fitfully resisting the smile tugging at his mouth. "I'm telling on you to Mean Green," there was no malice behind his words.

I doubted the shy scientist would do much more than stutter out two jumbled questions but let the topic slide in favour of closing up on the issue. "Would you call a wolf sentient? No," I shook my head. "But it is autonomous, it has free will. Think of it like that," I wasn't really up to par on explaining Tony all the ins and outs of my craft. The more I spoke, the more questions danced in his eyes. It was charming but not something I wanted to spend most of my day on.

"I won't pretend to be anything but sceptical but as it is, I happen to be dating a wizard," the engineer finally chortled, making hands for his burger. He made a vague gesture with his fork, expression still not-quite out of the thinking place.

"They say opposites attract," I shrugged.

"Romanoff keeps saying we're two sides of the same coin, so," he non-commitally shrugged in return. "Can't help but wonder what the fuck did you tell him that day. He was seething," Tony raised an eyebrow, tone teasing.

"Oh lord," I briefly palmed my face. "Here comes the shovel talk."

"No, no," a fry landed on the table in front of me. I snatched it right from under Tony's hand. He pouted. "He probably deserved it. I mean, you saved the Terminator and, honestly," he paused. "I heard about one third of his rant and I distinctly remember something about 'girls way over their heads' and whatnot," he did a poor imitation of his boyfriend's deep voice. "Now, I consider myself a feminist so, respectfully, I disagree," he finished with a self-satisfied smirk.

I blanked, trying to process the avalanche of information. "That's a lot to unpack," I acquiesced.

"It means he likes you. I would know," the man had the audacity to wink at me. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was Tony Stark.

"Are you hitting on me for your boyfriend?" I couldn't resist snarking back, briefly catching his eyes as I polished off my milkshake.

Tony looked at me through his thick, long lashes, a picture perfect visage of surprised innocence. "Maybe," his tone a little too south of friendly, the direction of his eyes a bit lower than my face.

The snort escaped me before I could put a stop to it. The banter - it was easy, comforting in this situation where I found myself to be akin a fish out of water. Like I was a slightly socially awkward witch, Tony was a genius engineer and a notorious flirt. He toed the lines of appropriate with practiced gusto and I hadn't had the heart to do anything but indulge in a little bit of harmless fun ever since he first stepped foot in the café, seeing right through his stone cold facade of an alleged womaniser. Call it a hunch, if you will.

Say what you want about Tony Stark but one thing was definite: he was a gentleman. I thoroughly enjoyed my ride home in his expensive, fast, latest model car. As the city streets zoomed by in a flurry of blurred lines and flashing colorful lights, I allowed my mind to finally calm and resume it's usual even wandering pace.

A hand loosely thrown over the steering wheel, Tony quietly hummed along to the music, playing with the hem of his tee whenever it wasn't occupied with driving the car. He looked so peaceful like that.

The sound system played some contemporary rock that blended in with the moderately busy afternoon of the NYC streets, submerging the surroundings in catharsis. Grey everything with the occasional burst of colour from a traffic light; the brief car ride lulled me into a state almost drowsy.

"You with me, Salem?" Tony's voice quietly took me out of my stupor.

I blinked, seeing the front door of my apartment building. "Yeah, yeah, thanks," I didn't resist the big, wide smile of relief and rejoiced upon seeing his face return to his normal expression, sparkling and mischievous. "That's my stop," I motioned lamely.

Something hung in the air, something unsaid. It leaked through the gaps between Tony's smile and his eyes, it filled up the car with something thick and foggy. I was powerless to stop its influence on me; the daze remained just as it was when we zoomed through city streets.

Tony's fingers twitched on the steering wheel as I exited the vehicle, giving him a short wave before he put pedal to the metal, quickly disappearing into the twilight. I watched his tail lights glow red amongst the flat blacks and greys and beiges of my surroundings, blinking away the dryness in my eyes only when the car disappeared from my view completely.

My apartment was just as I'd left it, warm and slightly messy- but a new feeling had crawled up from the very gutter of me, foreign and impending. The walls didn't breathe the comfort I had hoped I would finally find: if anything, none of what I encountered on my rapid beeline towards the couch felt real.

I'd grown accustomed to the comforts of my solitude and routine, to attached to the simplest task of being. Sorting through my dirty laundry had never been a favourable ordeal for me, I'd much rather lived in a relatively wide bubble- rationally, I knew that sooner or later, change had have to come, but there was nothing ever rational about having feelings on one matter or another.

My spirit was trying to tell me big things were coming and I had no choice but to listen and let the currents of fate and happenstance snatch me up and take me whichever way they pleased.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

#practical alchemy #bun writes #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #Stephen Strange x reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

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forever--rain · 3 years

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*hops up and down excitedly* EVER I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE ON HERE RN BUT FHDJKSFHA I CAME OUT OF MY CAVE TO SAY SUKKA PLAYLIST!!! DO IT DO IT DO IT I THINK WE ONLY HAVE ONE? ON SPOTIFY WHICH IS A TRAVESTY MAKE ONE PLEASE

BLUE, YOU ARE LITERALLY MY FAVORITE PERSON IN THIS FANDOM. YOU AND YOUR BEAUTIFUL BRAIN. I'M NEVER GOING TO GET OVER THIS ASK.

Footage of me creating this playlist:

Look. You guys know that I love Zutara. But I don't think you all realize that I love Sukka just as much. Their love is so pure and their vibe as a couple is just... *sigh* 💙💚💙💚💙💚 So putting together this playlist was so much fun. I'll put all explanations of songs below the cut because this reply is already long without what comes next (but you should read them because you'll get the full effect of this playlist).

All The Small Things by blink-182

Cross Me (feat. Chance the Rapper & PnB Rock) by Ed Sheeran

I Think He Knows by Taylor Swift

I Like Me Better (Spotify Studios Version) by Lauv

Ho Hey by The Lumineers

Jackie and Wilson by Hozier

Passenger Seat by Death Cab For Cutie

Stand By Me by Florence + The Machine

The Bones - with Hozier by Maren Morris

Yours - Wedding Edition by Russell Dickerson

Send me a playlist title and I’ll give you 5-10 songs I think would go on it!

All The Small Things

She left me roses by the stairs/Surprises let me know she cares

First of all, Suki would. Second of all, I firmly believe that Sokka and Suki would constantly be doing little things to show each other that they care. Sokka would send Suki his drawings and things he's carved for her. Suki would send Sokka little gadgets and pick up fun little accessories for him at the market. They'd leave out snacks for one another. And they would always, always be there to support one another 100% of the time.

Cross Me

Just know, if you cross her, then you cross me

"WHERE. IS. SUKI?"

I rest my case.

I Think He Knows

He's so obsessed with me, and boy I understand/Boy I understand

I love this song for Sokka and Suki because we all know that Sokka throws off major "THAT'S MY WIFE" vibes in regard to Suki. As he should. But if you think that badass, super cool Suki isn't also low-key super into Sokka in the same way you are wrong. She's the type of girl to totally get why he's into her. (Why wouldn't he be? DUH.) But she would also 100% be like, "Check out this hot, goofy genius! HE'S MINE. I LANDED HIM! THAT'S MY HUSBAND!!"

I Like Me Better

To not know who I am but still know that I'm good long as you're here with me//Damn, I like me better when I'm with you

I picked this song because of the influence Suki had on Sokka's character. Their interactions on Kyoshi Island really did change him for the better. Sokka spent so much of the series lost and feeling as though he didn't belong, but Suki brought out the best in him and helped his character evolve. He saw her, this incredible warrior with a heart of gold who wouldn't take his misogynist crap, and started working to be a better person. And I think we can all agree it was awesome to see him come into his own as a strategist and warrior. A large part of that is thanks to Suki. And Sokka would acknowledge that.

Ho Hey

I belong with you, you belong with me/You're my sweetheart

I don't think this choice needs much of an explanation. Just... They belong together, you guys.

Jackie and Wilson

She blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild/Laughing away through my feeble disguise/No other version of me I would rather be tonight/And, Lord, she found me just in time//She's gonna save me/Call me "baby"/Run her hands through my hair

Again, I'd like to point back to Sokka and Suki's first meeting. She comes out of nowhere, sees right through him, and it's thanks to her that Sokka changes his views on women (it takes time, of course, and loss, but he gets there). Also, the loss that Sokka experiences with Yue clearly affects his relationship with Suki in Book 2. He has to learn to be comfortable with the fact that Suki can save herself as well as him. And by the time Book 3 rolls around, we see them working together as a seamless team. He knows she has his back and she knows he has hers.

Passenger Seat

When you feel embarrassed/Then I'll be your pride/When you need directions/Then I'll be the guide/For all time

Oh, this song is so subtly Sukka. I hear these specific lines and think of Toph and Aang laughing at Sokka's Suki sand sculpture and Suki being proud of the fact that he even tried. I think of them being each other's compass, guiding light, and level head in stressful situations. They are so steady for and so true to one another. And I'm not crying, you're crying.

Stand By Me

If the sky that we look upon/Should tumble and fall/Or the mountains should crumble to the sea/I won't cry, I won't cry/No, I won't shed a tear/Just as long as you stand, stand by me

I chose this song because of how Sokka and Suki make one another stronger. They bolster each other. They face down certain death in the knowledge that their partner has their back and that's a beautiful thing. (Also, Florence Welch's voice on this track is incredibly emotive and intensifies the Sukka feels.)

The Bones

When there ain't a crack in the foundation/Baby, I know any storm we're facing/Will blow right over while we stay put/The house don't fall when the bones are good

This is my quintessential Sukka song. I always think of them older, maybe ten years after the war, when I hear this song. The two of them are as unshakeable as they've ever been. Was their first meeting great? No. But they grew together and formed something solid and real. I'm not one to advocate for childhood sweethearts or high school sweethearts (which is what they would've been in a "normal" storyline), but my god. These two would've been the teenage sweethearts who made it. They'd still be super into one another at 85 and just as in love as they'd ever been. If they had trials, they would've only pulled through stronger. These are two people who are capable of seeing past first impressions and loving one another for their true selves and... UGH. I LOVE them, okay?

Yours

I was one in a hundred billion/A burned out star in a galaxy/Just lost in the sky, wonderin' why/Everyone else shines out but me//But I came to life when I first kissed you/The best me has his arms around you/You make me better than I was before/Thank God I'm yours

Sokka said it himself: Compared to the others in the group, he didn't feel special because they could all bend and he couldn't. He lost his boomerang and had an identity crisis. That's the boy Suki met on Kyoshi Island--the boy who felt inferior to his little sister and to the Avatar; the boy who had to put on a false facade of bravado because he was scared... The boy who thought that it was a man's job to be the protector. The boy who thought a girl couldn't kick his ass purely because she was a girl.

Our girl ignited that change in him. Sokka knows full well what Suki's influence has done for him and he adores her for it. He's grateful for her impact on his life and he's obviously blown away by the fact that she loves him. You can tell it's the kind of relationship where he realized that if he was going to be worthy of her, he needed to prove it to her because she knew her worth. She wouldn't settle for a guy who thought she was inferior to him--she wanted someone who would see her as an equal. By the end of the series, she's his partner in every respect. He proves to her that he trusts her to have his back, that he trusts her judgement, that he trusts her in general.

Sokka knows that he's the best version of himself with Suki. He would 100% spend the rest of his life in awe of the fact that she loves him and that he's landed this miracle of a woman who has always seen him as an equal--even when he didn't feel equal to anyone else because he couldn't bend.

#ask evergreen #evergreen answers #playlist asks #thebluesunflower44 #sukka #really #read the explanations for each song you guys #get the full Sukka Feels effect #their love makes me so happy #THANK YOU BLUE FOR REQUESTING THIS PLAYLIST #blue and her big beautiful brain #when I got this ask I lost my mind #and I'm still not over it #*cries in sukka*#sukka my beloved

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365days365movies · 3 years

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Western August I: Stagecoach (1939) - Recap and Review

Let’s start at the beginning...almost,

The Western arguably was born with the 1903 film, The Great Train Robbery. This 12-minute short film is a classic, and one of the earliest achievements in film-making. It’s also, unsurprisingly, a Western, and based on an actual train robbery. At the time it was made, the Wild West had only really ended a few years prior, with its heyday being about 40 years past. Which, yeah, is CRAZY. People who remembered the Wild West lived into the 1950s and ‘60s. It seems like so long ago, and it was, but it was still relatively recent from a historical standpoint.

From then, the Western remained a staple of cinema, and would be so for over half a century. And then, enter John Ford. Born in 1894, the Irish American director began his career in 1914 as an assistant and handyman, often working with his older brother Francis. Eventually, John took his place as a director, starting with silent films, especially westerns. Starting with the very successful film The Iron Horse in 1924, he quickly rose to stardom. He transitioned from silent films to talkies pretty effortlessly, and continued his streak. All the while, he was also one of the first directors to have a roster of actors in his company. You know how Tim Burton always uses Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter? Or how the Coen Brothers always use Frances McDormand and John Goodman? Or Wes Andersen with Bill Murray and Owen Wilson? Yeah, that started with John Ford and...ugh...

Before I start...fuck John Wayne.

Dude was a racist homophobic asshole, and absolutely a dick. Look it up, or don’t if you’d rather not have one of cinemas most iconic faces completely ruined for you. But OK, outside of that one time that he said that the Native Americans were “selfishly trying to keep the land for themselves”, or that he believed in white supremacy over uneducated blacks...yeah, he’s a DICK...

Marion Robert Morrison was born in Iowa in 1907, and began his film career after becoming injured while surfing without a surfboard and ending his football career. Yes, really. His football coach was a friend of a film director named John Ford, who hired Morrison as a favor to him. Said football coach was also friends with an actual remnant of the Old West: WYATT FUCKING EARP. YEAH.

For years, Morrison was a bit player until starring in the film The Big Trail in 1930, a Western directed by Raoul Walsh. And he wasn’t exactly famous after this, but it was with this film that he took up a screen name: John Wayne, after a Revolutionary War general, Anthony Wayne, and...well, the name John. Anthony sounded too Italian. Yes, really. After this movie, Wayne continued to star in more Westerns, and even became one of the first film cowboys to sing on camera.

And then, 1939 came along, and John Ford came to him with a new film project. Being a classic Western, the film was about a group of settlers riding on a stagecoach together through the West. Strangers to each other, they find themselves attacked by a group of Native Americans belonging to the Apache tribes. This film, an adaptation of a 1939 short story, would come to be known as Stagecoach. And it would launch Ford, Wayne, and the Western genre into a Golden Age. So no more navel-gazing, let’s get started!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

I get reminded that I haven’t watched a Criterion Collection film in a while, and the film begins with a rousing Western theme, courtesy of...holy shit, this movie has SEVEN COMPOSERS? Well, OK, courtesy of somebody in that list of seven. From there, we cut to a camp somewhere in the Arizona Territory in 1880. Which, again, is only 60 years prior to this film’s release date. There, a group of men discuss the danger imposed on them by the Apache, stirred up by the legendary warrior Geronimo.

And from there, we go to the town of Tonto, where stagecoach driver Buck (Andy Devine) lets a group of passengers out. One of these passengers is Lucy Mallory (Louise Platt), there to catch another shuttle to meet her husband in Dry Fork, New Mexico. However, the stagecoach gains an extra passenger in the form of the Marshal, Curley Wilcox (George Bancroft), who goes to find an outlaw also in Lordsburg.

The passenger list builds with the addition of Doc Boone (Thomas Mitchell) and Dallas (Claire Trevor), a drunk and a prostitute both driven out of town by the Law and Order League of Women, due to social stigma affecting them both. In a bar getting a farewell drink, Doc meets yet one more passenger, Samuel Peacock (Donald Meek), a whiskey salesman that Doc is glad to meet. Meanwhile, banker Henry Gatewood (Berton Churchill) also boards the vehicle, under mysterious circumstances.

Friends of Lucy are worried with her travelling a drunk and a prostitute (the ABSOLUTE SCANDAL), but she needs to visit her husband in Dry Fork. As she leaves, she meets eyes with the dangerous but enigmatic gambler Hatfield (John Carradine). And before they’re able to leave altogether, the carriage is stopped by the army, who warn them of the Apache and Geronimo. All of the passengers refuse to get off, and YET TWO MORE passengers board to protect the carriage: the Marshal and Hatfield. And finally, they’re off! But as they head out, they’re stopped when they encounter a recently escaped outlaw.

This is The Ringo Kid (John Wayne), who just got out of prison. The Marshal sees him, and takes him into custody on the way to Lordsburg, where they plan to drop him off into jail. And yes, he’s put on the fucking stagecoach. In total, we have Buck, the Marshal, Lucy, Hatfield, Doc, Peacock, Gatewood, and the Ringo Kid. Jesus, that’s a crowded-ass carriage, even if two of them are outside of it. Hell, Ringo’s sitting on the fuckin’ floor!

Anyway, the group interacts and introduces themselves. We learn that Doc once patched up Ringo’s brother, and was discharged from the Union Army for drunkenness. We learn that Hatfield is a true southern gentleman, and a veteran of the Confederate army (much to Doc’s ire), and that Ringo’s brother was murdered under mysterious circumstances.

The group gets to Dry Forks, currently under occupation by the army. Said army had accompanied them (outside of the carriage, thank God) to Dry Forks, and are staying there to guard against the Apache. Meanwhile, Lucy’s dismayed to find that her husband isn’t in fact there. This leads to the debate of whether or not the party should go back to Tonto, or head onwards to Lordsburg. Buck wants to go back to Tonto, as does Peacock, while literally everybody else wants to go to Lordsburg. And so, they continue onwards.

Before heading onwards, the group sits for dinner, during which Ringo is the only one to show any form of kindness to Dallas, as everybody else looks down on her for prostitution. Shit, man, they won’t even sit near her at the table. Jesus. Unfortunately, Dallas is used to this cruel treatment, and it allows her to bond with Ringo in her loneliness. Once again, character interactions reveal things about our cast. Lucy is feeling quite ill, and Hatfield reveals that he served under her father in the Confederate Army.

And from there, the coach continues on through the desert. Buck and the Marshal argue about letting Ringo free, as he aims to continue his feud with the outlaw Luke Plummer and his brothers, despite the fact that he’ll likely be killed by them. It’s for this reason that the Marshal wants to keep Ringo in his custody, as he was good friends with his father and doesn’t want to see him killed by the dangerous Plummers, whom Buck thinks should be taken down regardless.

Inside the coach, the banker reveals that he’s literally a Republican from 2016 (he rants about small government, and claims that a businessman should be President, holy shit), while people keep treating Dallas like shit, except for Ringo. They go through a cold mountain pass, which isn’t great for Lucy for some reason. It’s actually quite rough on everyone. Except for Doc Boone, who keeps drinking Peacock’s whiskey samples, which is hilarious.

Finally, the group makes it to the next stop, Apache Wells. There, Lucy discovers that her husband has been severely wounded in a battle with the Apache, and she falls faint. Despite being absolutely SMASHED, Doc sobers up to help her, with the help of Ringo and the Marshal. Meanwhile, Dallas watches over her, despite the rancor that Lucy’s tossed at her this whole time.

The group stays the night, attended to by Chris (Chris Pin-Martin) a Mexican man who’s married to Yakima (Elvira Rios), an Apache woman who...is played by a Mexican singer. Huh. I mean...it’s still technically redface, unfortunately. But then again, the attitude towards Native American actors at this time was...oh boy. And the portrayal of the Mexicans in the camp aren’t exactly great, as a group of them steal the group’s spare horses, meaning that they only have one set of horses to use from here on out.

But amongst the unpleasant is a pleasant surprise, and the reveal of the cause for Lucy’s mysterious condition: she’s pregnant. Or rather, she was, as the baby’s just been delivered, and is being held by Dallas. As the group celebrates, Chris warns Ringo to stay away from Lordsburg, as the Plummers will kill him. But Ringo has something else on his mind.

See, on seeing Dallas with the baby, he finds himself quite in love with her. He finds her outside, and tells her that his father and brothers were killed by the Plummers. In turn, she reveals that her family was massacred on the real-life Superstition Mountain. Their conversation ends in Ringo proposing to Dallas, which she protests to because of her mysterious past.

The next morning, Yakima’s left with Chris’ horse and rifle, and the group worry that she’s gone to tell the Apache. After Gatewood panics about his mysterious valise being possibly stolen, the group packs up and readies themselves to go. But Lucy is, of course, still ill from literally giving birth hours ago. Things are still tense between Lucy and Dallas, despite Dallas taking care of her the entire fucking night. Jesus, lady, that high horse is looking uncomfortable, you should get off it.

Dallas has something else to worry about, as she’s thinking on Ringo’s proposal. She consults with the doctor, who reminds her of her mysterious and checkered past being revealed if she goes. But she doesn’t seem to care, and she decides to accept the proposal. As for the rest, Gatewood’s freakin’ the fuck out. Because of Lucy’s condition, the doctor requests that they don’t leave until a day later. And Gatewood doesn’t give a single shit, as the Apache are close enough. Still, the party decides to stay, at Hatfield’s added insistence.

Ringo and Dallas talk, with Dallas both warning him of the Plummers, and also accepting his proposal. The men are all still arguing about whether or not they should leave, and they note that the Apache are likely between them and their destination. Ringo then takes the opportunity to escape and ride to Lordsburg for revenge on the Plummers. But he stops when he sees smoke signals on the hill. The Apache are coming.

No more waiting, it’s time to GO. Taking the still recovering lady and her newborn child Coyote into the stagecoach, they take off into the desert. Gatewood continues to run his loudmouth, to the ire of Hatfield and Ringo. And Peacock, to my delight, shows some kindness and “Christian charity” to Dallas, as she holds Coyote during the ride. And after all, they’re almost at the ferry!

Ah, shit, the ferry! Looks like the ferry, and the entire town of Lee’s Ferry have been burned. And if they ford the river, all of their supplies could be flooded, or the oxen could drown! Or worse, dysentery could set in! That’s what The Oregon Trail taught me! And yet, despite this, that’s actually EXACTLY what they do! And unlike me literally every time I’ve every tried to cross a river without a ferry, they make it through fine! Realistic educational games my ASS!

But it’s not entirely safe, as the group are being watched by none other than the Apache, who make their way down to intercept the group. In the carriage, meanwhile, the group is thankful that they’ve made their way from danger, and even Gatewood relaxes a little. Doc Boone makes a toast, and everyone seems to be getting along for once.

OH FUCK, PEACOCK GOT HIT!

The girlfriend IMMEDIATELY SAYS, “Now he really is Drew Peacock.” I leave and get boba to soothe my injured spirit from that well-timed joke. And then, the movie continues, and the chase is on! The Apache chase the stagecoach through the desert, and the groups trade gunshots and arrows, with Ringo shooting from the back. Gatewood panics so hard that Doc Boone punches him and IMMEDIATELY knocks him out, as he attends to Peacock’s injuries.

But despite their best efforts, the Apache group catches up to them, although many of them are killed by Ringo, the Marshal, Doc, and Hatfield. In the process, Buck is also shot, and Ringo literally jumps ON THE FUCKING HORSES, and commands them from the front like a goddamn badass. Things begin to get worse, as everybody in the stagecoach runs out of ammo, at the worst possible time. Hatfield only has one bullet remaining, and he considers using it...to kill Lucy! Holy fuck!

And just as he’s about to fire IN HER FUCKING FACE, the sounds of horns ring out as the cavalry arrives. And Hatfield, dick that he is, is shot. I think he was trying to spare her the indignity of being captured by the Apache, but Jesus, man! He collapses, and reveals that his father is a judge in Virginia before he...either passes out or dies, I’m not sure. The group finally gets to Lordsburg, where it turns out that Lucy’s husband is gonna be OK, and wasn’t severely injured. She tanks Dallas for everything that she’s done, and promises to help her should she ever need assistance. Good, finally, the lady needs a goddamn break.

The stagecoach rides through the busy town, and the arrival of the Ringo Kid gets the attention of Luke Plummer (Tom Tyler), who fetches his brothers Hank (Vester Pegg) and Ike (Joe Rickson). Time to get ready for a showdown, it seems. Dallas seems to know this, and goes to Ringo after the living Peacock (yay!) and the not-so-living Hatfield (oof) are brought in for medical help.

Buck’s also OK, but Gatewood isn’t. See, that valise he was carrying was actually full of money, and he had embezzled it from his own bank. He had counted on telegraph lines being down, so that he could escape with his ill-gotten gains, but has no such luck, and is led away in handcuffs! HA!

Ringo, meanwhile, is set to kill Luke Plummer and his brothers. The Marshal lets him escape, and promises to get Dallas safely down to a little ranch he owns in the South. Dallas and Ringo walk off together, and Dallas tries to get him to leave and say goodbye before he goes to his death, and before he finds out about her past (presumably as a prostitute).

See, they’re actually walking up to a brothel, where Dallas is going to stay and work. Because, yeah, she’s a prostitute. Sucks that she’s been so maligned, because prostitution fuckin’ BUILT the Old West! I guess it’s easier to see that with historical context. As Ringo finds out the truth about Dallas (which he might’ve known all along), he still insists upon marrying her...and upon killing the Plummers.

Doc, meanwhile, goes to the bar where the Plummers are waiting. He tells them that he’ll get them arrested, and Luke swears to come back for him after their business with Ringo is concluded. The brothers head outside, ready for the final showdown. It’s 3 on one, Plummers against Ringo. Ringo fires! A few more shots...then silence. And Dallas mourns.

Except that Ringo wins the fight, and goes back to her! A happy ending! I’m sure that’ll be pretty goddamn rare this month. The Marshal arrives to take Ringo away, and Ringo goes as promised. She asks to ride with him a bit, and the Marshal agrees. He and Doc watch them get on, then cause the horses of the carriage to stampede away, letting Ringo and Dallas escape into the desert, together. And that’s the end!

Y’know...I liked it! I really liked it!

This movie is often referred to as the greatest Western of all time, and the reason that the Western survived into the next several decades. And honestly, I get it! It was nominated for 7 Academy Awards, and won for Best Supporting Actor (Thomas Mitchell, AKA Doc) and Best Original Score, both of which were quite deserved!

Review time!

Cast and Acting - 9/10: Sure, it’s a little hokey. But at the same time, it’s good classic Hollywood acting! Wayne, Trevor, Mitchell, Carradine, and Devine are standouts for me, all of which serving their roles well. Also, fun fact about Andy Devine: he’s the voice of Friar Tuck in Disney’s Robin Hood! KNEW I recognized that voice!

Plot and Writing - 10/10: Standard plot? Sure. Engaging as hell? Hell yeah! This is just a good story, plain and simple. No holes, no problems, no mistakes, and purely straightforward. Great writing by the original story author, Ernest Haycox, and great screenplay by Dudley Nichols!

Directing and Cinematography - 10/10: Great looking movie, too! All credit to John Ford, unsurprisingly. Cinematographer Bert Glennon also deserves credit for the beautiful landscape shots throughout. Gogeous film, even in black-and-white!

Production and Art Design - 8/10: This is pretty standard Western production design, so not a lot to write home about specifically. However, that doesn’t mean it’s bad. To the contrary, it’s quite good! Just does stand out to me quite as much as other movies. Might be a nitpick, but it’s still something against the film.

Music and Editing - 10/10: No complaints! Seven composers definitely make their presence known, and you can tell that this score heavily informed all Western scores after it. It’s iconic, and it’s perfect for the mood. As for the editing by Otho Lovering and Dorothy Spencer...it’s great! Perfect pacing, well-edited...no complaints whatsoever.

94%, and I had fun with this one!

I honestly did have quite a good time with this one. I can’t really call it a “fun” movie, but it definitely is a good one. Plus, it’s a John Ford/John Wayne film, which is basically a staple of the genre. So, what’s next?

Next: My Darling Clementine (1946), dir. John Ford

#stagecoach #stagecoach 1939 #john ford #claire trevor #john wayne #andy devine #john carradine #thomas mitchell #george bancroft #apache #western august #365 days 365 movies #365 movie challenge #western genre #user365 #usersasha #my gifs #mygifs

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gophergal · 3 years

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HEY GOTTA 'NOTHER CHAPTER FOR YA. Thank you to @bucketofcowboys for betaing for me! Without his help, I would be pulling weird shakespeare lines outta my ass. He makes my shit sound smooth lol

I'm Not Lonely - Chapter Three

Word count:4 000+| Rating: M | Michael Myers x OC | M/F

WARNING: Gore, Animal Death

Jean must have fallen asleep at some point while reading to Michael, the book slipping from her hands into her lap. She jolted awake at the sudden weight on her legs, her heart pounding momentarily until her eyes fell on Michael's form, watching as his head tilted inquiringly to the side. He appeared as though he still sat where he had been the night before, still watching her as she slept.

It was strange, obviously, but she couldn't help the warm feeling that spread through her from the human companionship. She was tempted to physically shake the feeling away from her limbs and mind, but restraining herself. The knowledge of why she felt so comforted by him, a man she knew by first name alone and nothing else, filled her with a mixture of shame and annoyance, though she pushed that all to the back of her mind to simmer.

With a yawn, Jean stretched, feeling her back click into place after her poor sleeping position. She stood on stiff legs, feeling the sleep flee from her system as the blood circulated throughout her body. In the kitchen, after a quick bite of breakfast, Jean looked at Michael from the other side of the table, sipping on her coffee as she considered what she had planned for the day.

She'd need to get groceries- the fridge was becoming a bit empty now that she was cooking for two so frequently. That brought another thought to mind, that she really didn't know what Michael liked to eat. Part of her wanted to say, “Fuck it, I'm the one cooking and paying the bills, so what he likes doesn't really matter,” but at the same time she didn't feel like being so harsh.

After cleaning the dishes she and Michael had left in the sink, getting dressed in errand appropriate apparel, and yelling to Michael so he'd know she left, she got in her car and drove toward Haddonfield. The grocery store was relatively quiet today. There were times that it could be a true mad house; hoards of middle aged women being impatient with the young employees of the store while their husbands stood around bored, watching their wild hellions wreck havoc.

Jean shuddered at the image, glad to be in at a slow time as the young cashier greeted her with a smile. The normalcy of this shopping trip was sobering as she placed items into the cart, her mind working slowly to remind her of what was wrong with her current life situation. Unfortunately for that rational part of her mind, she simply continued to mark things off her grocery list. She reached for a pack of Dr Pepper cans, only to bump into an arm. She drew back quickly, pulled out of her muffled thoughts, and looked at the person she bumped into.

“Oh! I'm very sorry, m'am,” the tall woman- no, she was rather young, now that Jean got a look at her, she was simply taller than Jean, who was admittedly quite short. Her fluffy blonde locks swallowed her head as a single mass, the part framing her sharp features. She must be a high school student, Jean thought.

“It's fine, please go ahead. And 'Jean' is fine. I'm not married,” she chuckled, picking a bit at her shirt sleeve.

“Nice to mean you, Jean. I'm Laurie. I... don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new in town, by chance?” The girl asked.

“No, not really. I've lived in the area for my whole life, but I live a bit out of town. Laurie, you seem familiar though.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, I can't place where I've seen you though- Wait, were you one of the people attacked on Halloween night?” Jean asked with a gasp, then immediately wished she hadn't. Laurie looked away quickly, and seemed to struggle for words momentarily and appearing on the verge of tears. “I- I'm really sorry, Laurie. That must have been horrific. Did they ever.... catch the guy?”

“No. He's still on the loose. Sheriff Brackett said he'd do everything he could, but Annie- his daughter- my friend, she-” Laurie cut herself off, not needing to say more for Jean to connect the dots, her shoulder's trembling slightly with the effort to remain composed in this public environment.

“You're a very strong young woman, Laurie. Especially to still be out and about so soon after all of that. I'm sure he'll be caught, too. That type of bastard isn't usually free for long.”

“Thank you. It's been very hard, on everyone.”

“I can imagine.

“Y'know, it may be a weird thing to offer, but if you ever need some help, or someone to talk to, here's my number. I can't say I can truly understand your specific situation, but I've had my fair share of loss, too,” she said, producing a small piece of paper and a pen, scribbling down her home phone number, then handed it to Laurie.

Laurie accepted the paper, dabbing at her eyes slightly with her sweater sleeve, “Thank you, Jean. I might have to take you up on that some time.”

“Don't hesitate, I'd be happy to lend an ear,” Jean replied with a small, warm smile.

The women purchased their groceries and parted way. Talking to Laurie had caused the trip to take longer than intended and now the sun was creeping lower, the brightness slightly too intense to be comfortable. Jean got into her car, the paper bags of food on the passenger side, and she left. The intense, golden light highlighted the trees which were now barren of their leaves. That and the chilly air harbingers of the coming winter. Jean worried her mind with the thought that she would have to fix some of the roofing of her home before the wet snow came down and buried the world.

There would be time to do that, for now she had other things to think about, such as her new housemate. Despite, his impromptu move in almost two weeks prior, she still knew nothing about him aside from his name. She hadn't even seen his face before, she realized, causing a slight hum of anxiety to spread through her body. Something in her kept screaming at her to do something about it, but as she drove toward her home, that voice grew quiet.

There were no lights on when she arrived, and no sign of Michael as she put away the groceries. Aside from a couple empty food wrappers in the sink, which greatly irritated her, it was the same as before he first visited her. Perhaps he'd left for the night. She didn't know where he went when wasn't at her home, but frankly she wasn't his keeper and had no responsibility to keep track of him. He was a grown man, after all. She placed the case of soda on the counter and, with a yawn, piloted her weary body toward the stairs.

She instinctively skipped the creaky step, nearly losing her balance to fatigue. At the top of the stairs, she noticed that her bedroom door was slightly ajar, a sliver of moonlight beaming through the crack, a strange occurrence as her habit was to close the door at all times. She drew closer, cautious and uneasy now, and gently pushed open the door, supporting it with her body and praying that the squeaky hinge would remain silent.

The door now open, she could see a lump under the covers on her bed, poking out from the top a curly, dark mass. She let out a small gasp of breath when she noticed the white, fleshy sheet on her nightstand. Michael's mask. This was Michael who'd stolen her bed. Even at rest, there was a tension to him, eyebrows contorted and face twisted into a slight grimace. Yet, she noticed her hand drawing closer to his hair as if it were magnetic. She pulled her traitorous appendage back, foiling it's mission to tenderly push back a brown lock from his forehead.

A slight glint of reflected light caught her attention, her eye sweeping over the sleeping form to see the metal blade of a kitchen knife in his hand. He had a white-knuckle grip on it that did not waver with the haze of sleep. It chilled her. She began backing away, unwilling to take back her bed that night and unsure if she would even be able to sleep. Still, as she stepped gingerly out of the room, the couch called to her downstairs.

The next few days were uneventful. She worked, she came home, sometimes she had to take the couch. Michael didn't seem to leave at all, yet he seemed out of place in the house, having nothing change around him. Tonight would be her last night of work for the week and she was excited to have some time to rest on her day off. She sat across from Michael at the kitchen table, taking occasional glances at his masked face, imagining the man beneath. He sat like a wax figure, unmoving and unphased.

“I have to work again tonight, I can't really tell you what to do, but I'd appreciate you locking the door if you go somewhere,” she told him. While she awaited his lack of response she wondered what he even did while she was away, though she ultimately decided that ignorance was preferable to knowing something she'd regret. Besides, she had things to do before she left for work that evening. The sun was low in the sky as she put on her dusty pink uniform dress and black flats.

Michael watched her leave the house from his spot in the kitchen, waiting for the security of an empty house. Once the coast was clear he ripped the mask from his face, the latex of it clinging to his greasy brown locks in his haste to eat. He grimaced at the tugging sensation, placing his second face on the table next to him. As food was shoveled into his mouth messily like a child, he decided on what he'd do that day. It seemed a good day to snoop through his host's home because, surprisingly, he hadn't already. If he thought about how different this was from any other time he'd stalked prey for too long, it would only confuse him. At the same time, he was reminded constantly by the Shape that it would all end soon, soon enough the pleasure of killing the woman would outweigh the benefit of keeping her alive.

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, putting the plate into the sink rather carelessly with a clink. The house was rather uncluttered, with few items in the cupboards and cabinets. Nothing out of the ordinary, as far as he could tell. Still, bland as it was, it was far more welcoming than the white walls and antiseptic smells of Smith's Grove. Of that place, those were all he could remember clearly, everything else was shrouded in a drugged haze, a curtain of accusation and rough hands holding him down when the doctor ordered. A few small moments of kindness from nurses and orderlies peeked through the curtains here and there, but even those paled in comparison to how Jean was. The Shape scoffed at the idea, reminding him that if she knew the evil that everyone else had, she too would end up as another barrier between him and freedom, and such barriers were meant to be torn down.

The stairs creaked as he climbed, and the photos on the wall watched him closely. Upon closer look he saw a woman, looking much like slightly older Jean, alongside a little girl and an old man. He pulled it off the wall for a closer look. Smiling faces, a happy family, though shaped differently than his own had been. The girl looked to be the same age he'd been on that night so many years ago. He tossed the frame onto the carpeted floor after the top step, not caring for what that last thought brought to mind.

On the upper floor, more pictures were on the walls and now he noticed how few actually showed the older woman. They formed a sort of jumbled timeline, the little girl growing taller until he recognized her as Jean at various ages. A few had only her, no sign of the old man or the woman, and he took one from the wall. She was dressed nicely, her back to the glowing sunrise, making her messy blonde hair appear as a fiery golden halo. He decided that he liked it and held onto it as he kept wandering though his host's home.

The Shape became restless at some point, it's voice growing more frantic and incomprehensible with the passing minutes. Michael was tired though, the thrill of the hunt would be dampened by his lack of sleep. The Shape grew louder, demanding blood, gracing his mind with sudden images of what he could do to satisfy it. He ground his teeth, fist clenching and un-clenching as he tried to shake the thoughts from his mind. He needed rest. The Shape could wait, surely. There would be more prey, more chances. The hardest night was over, and he was unlikely to be caught while he stayed with Jean. Frustrated, he relented, giving in to the grating presence of the Shape. He stomped downstairs, muscles growing tense with each heavy breath.

The diner was relatively quiet that night, only two men were at a booth in the front. A not-quite-elderly duo of middle-aged men with greying dark hair, one taller and mustached, the other weaselly in appearance. Jean hurried to the booth to take their order, “Hey, what can I get you two gentlemen tonight?”

“I'll take a tenderloin sandwich, slice o' apple pie, a black coffee,” said the mustached man.

“Cheesecake, black coffee,” the weaselly man said. With that, Jean nodded and smiled, leaving to take the order to Gus, tuning in to their conversation as she walked away.

“Eh, you know about that one bastard that's been on the loose since Halloween?” Asked the weaselly man.

“Yeah, of course I do. I watch the news. What about it?”

“I've heard that he's twenty bodies in now.”

“The police say that?”

“No, they wouldn't and you know it. I've heard it from a few buddies.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Haddonfield's never had so many suspicious deaths, bud. It's gotta be a bit more than a coinkydink that they'd ramp up after this guy starts killin'.” Jean brought the men their orders and they quieted down on the morbid talk for a bit. The weaselly man rubbed hands together excitedly as Jean set down his cheesecake. The tall man shook his head light heartedly.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” the tall man said. Jean smiled, holding back the urge to roll her eyes at the unwanted pet name. She left to wipe down the other booth tables in the room.

“Anyway, I heard that the cops are broadening their search to the surrounding area,” said the weasel, “been some sightings of a masked man wearing a blue jumpsuit around some houses on the outskirts of town.” Jean found that the description was unsettlingly familiar.

“C'mon, that could just be some kid in a dime store mask and his dad's coveralls.”

“After halloween?”

“Yeah, y'know how kids are. Not sayin' its good, those kids might get themselves killed.”

“Isn't that what happened to that one highschool football player? Tramer, I think his name was.”

“Yeah, just like that. Police thought he was Michael Myers and he got run over. Well, on accident , of course,” The tall man said, putting air quotes around “accident” and then took a bite of his tenderloin sandwich.

“And what a damn shame it is. Poor kid had so much potential. Might as well add him to the body count.”

Jean stopped wiping the table she was standing at. She felt the blood rush from her face, her heart dropped into her stomach, and bile rose in her throat. It all was too much. Her head spun, making the connections, remaking the connections, denying the truth. Her knees felt weak.

“Woah, miss, you good? If all this murder talk is getting to you, we can stop. You look like you're about to pass out,” the mustached man asked her, voice laced with concern.

“I-” she started, swallowing hard, “I'm okay, I think my blood sugar's just low. I'll be back,” she finished, leaving quickly to go back to the kitchen where Jo and Gus chatted. Jean pushed past, throwing open the back door and pressing her back to the brick wall of the diner outside. She breathed hard, shaking hands gripping her skirt as her legs threatened to give beneath her.

Jo burst out a moment later, worried. She put her hands on Jean's shoulders, words coming out of her mouth, but not reaching Jean's ears. She shook Jo's hands off, reclaiming her composure. “I'm fine, Jo, I guess all that talk about the killer on the loose got to me,” she said. It wasn't quite a lie.

“Are you sure you'll be alright? You live alone and now I'm worried about you,” Jo asked.

“It's fine. I'm fine. I promise.”

“Okay, I'll drop it, but if you ever need anything, you know where I am.”

“I do,” Jean nodded. She wouldn't drag Jo into this. This was her own problem, and Jo might very well get hurt. She considered asking Gus to help her, he was a large guy, someone she could trust, and she was sure he would do anything to help if she asked. Then she reconsidered. She'd never be able to forgive herself if she got him hurt. No, she'd have to take care of this herself, somehow.

There was a creeping feeling on her back as the eerie twilight faded into blackness as she drove. There were no stars in the sky, yet the full moon cast it's silvery glow on the earth below, bathing the landscape in a strange dream-like contrast. It was slightly hypnotic, feeding her unease. Once she arrived at her home, she turned the knob on the front door, now aware of the lights left on in the house. She pushed open the door, breaching the barrier between her feeling of environmental disorientation and her nauseating awareness of the room before her.

A sharp scent of salt and copper was in the air, horrifically mixing with the familiar smells of the house, corrupting them in the dim light from upstairs. Before she could bring herself to flip the light switch, she surveyed the dark room, eyes falling on a dark, crumpled form at the bottom of the staircase. Pooling below it, a reflective, dark liquid that appeared black in the shadow of the heap.

She flipped the switch, eyes screwed shut. She finally found the courage to open her eyes, and regretted it. Tears pricked her eyes, a mixture of shock and disgust, as she looked at the crumpled canine body at the bottom of the stairs. The dog, once a charming golden brown, was now stained with the rust colored blood that had kept it alive. Gruesomely, its abdomen was torn open, broken ribs visible alongside the snaking internal organs.

A sound ripped itself from Jean's lips and she looked around the room. The first aid kit was strewn about on the coffee table, the couch soaked in red. Dried blood was tracked everywhere, shoe prints from the back door to the living room, dried droplets leading up the stairs, a smeared hand print on the wall. At the top of the stairs, her bedroom door was ajar. A horrible, sickening curiosity gripped her, guiding her around the discarded carcass and up the stairs.

Her heart pounded as she froze in front of the door, mind blank, her survival instincts screaming at her to run. Run far away. You are prey. You will die and then you will feed this horrible predator. She swallowed down these instincts somehow, and pushed open the door. Blood had been dripped from the threshold to her bed. Then she saw him. On her bed. Her clean, comfortable bed with the soft, white sheets. His filthy, blood-stained jumpsuit was touching her once clean, comfortable sheets. Her knees no longer quivered below her. Her prey-like instincts cowered away as something snapped within. She was fucking pissed.

“Michael, what the fuck are you doing in my goddamn bed?! My home?! My FUCKING SHEETS, you bastard!” She shook, no longer in fear- no, that ship had passed along with her pure white sheets- her hands shook with the desire to express her feelings violently.

Michael jumped up almost comically as though he'd been stabbed with a straight pin. He nearly fell, then fumbled for the white latex he treated as his face, then pulled it on. The knife he slept with had clattered to the floor in his struggle, and had been kicked under the bed. He whipped himself around to look at Jean, then stalked to her. Jean held her ground. He was a mere two steps from her, the difference in height and mass between them highlighted by the closeness.

“You've got three goddamn choices. First, you could kill me. Go ahead, I fucking dare you. Second, you could leave. Go somewhere, leave me the fuck alone. Or, you could stay here, follow my rules, have a steady supply of food and somewhere to sleep. Make your choice, Michael,” she growled, glaring into shadowed eyeholes of his mask.She bared her teeth, seething as he put a massive hand, covered in dried dog blood, around her neck. He did not squeeze, simply held it there firmly as he waited for the Shape's instruction.

The instruction to snap her neck did not come. The Shape remained silent. He had expected fear. That was common- expected even- in his prey. They would run, or try to fight back. Some tried to submit, begging him not to snuff out their lives. Anger though, that was reserved for the exceptionally stupid. Yet something was beginning to make itself clear, Jean was not stupid, exceptionally or otherwise. Rage continued to flare in her slate grey eyes as Michael released her neck, an alluring red stain coiled around it. He marveled at the mark as she turned away, stomping down the stairs away from him.

Watch that one, the Shape demanded. Michael agreed to the Shape's demand. He would definitely watch her. She had his attention now.

#michael myers #slasher x oc #slashers #michael myers x oc #gopher writes #I'm Not Lonely #it has been.... 4 months

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