#or dwell on clothes i buy that i find out are too small

[velocitic]

sorry to be vulnerable on main. but i am thinking about how i used to buy clothes that were 2-4 sizes too small for me (bc of the Problems) and then when i got older i would always buy clothes that were 2-4 sizes too big on me (bc of the Problems in a different direction) and anyway. i have recently made the effort to buy clothes that are my size and fit me as i am and as they are intended to fit a person. and i'm hot now thank you and good night

[gemini-sensei]

Everything Has Changed Pt. 2 | Eli "Hawk" Moskowitz x Chubby!LaRusso!Reader

○ Part 1 ○

CW: teen pregnancy, angst, forbidden/secret relationship, small enemies to lovers.

"Have you picked what book you're gonna read for the book report in Mrs. Sheete's class?" Hawk asked, reaching across his bed for the book list beside Reader. He looked at it as she hummed in response.

"Mhm," she let out softly, looking up.

She watched him closely, paying attention to the way his eyebrows knit up as he scanned the list. His eyes showed how bored he was with the titles their teacher had given them to choose from. It was quite amusing to watch as he steadily became a little frustrated.

He huffed and set the list aside. "That's bullshit. Everything on there is so fucking old. Why can't we read something, ya know, we can actually relate to?"

Reader smirked but tried to hide it. "I don't know. What would you read and find relatable?"

He looked up at her, unamused with her amusement simply because he didn't want to do the assignment. However, as she leant back on one hand, she used the other to cradle her just-beginning-to-show belly. It was showing to them, at least, when they were alone like this. She could be herself with him unlike any relationship she's had before, romantic or platonic. She could wear whatever she wanted, which included cute striped maternity shirts.

Perhaps he thought it was so cute because he bought it for her. When the opportunity arose to buy himself some new clothes, he'd opted to get her a few things too. He knew it wasn't easy for her get anything for herself with her overbearing family always around. They knew her parents were getting suspicious of her, thought that she was hiding something. So he got her a few shirts.

They were a little baggy, giving a little room for her to grow into. They were comfortable and she loved them, wearing them under an even baggier shirt when she went to school or around her house. Though they both knew that soon enough they wouldn't hide anything. She'd full them out and the fat of her belly would round out in a baby bump.

As he watched her now, understood what she was trying to convey in that simple action - cradling her precious little belly. No one else at their school would be able to read a book about being pregnant and relate to it.

He sighed and avoided her question. "Okay, so it doesn't really matter, right? I mean, it's not as if I could pick a book not on the list anyway."

"Sheete likes you a lot, so maybe you could," Reader suggested.

"No, I'll just pick one of these," he grumbled. She giggled as he took up the paper again and looked at it. "What are you reading?"

"Little Women."

He hummed, then dropped the list. It floated away and fell to the floor. He leaned over their textbooks and notebooks and assignments, grinning at her. "I guess I'll read that too."

"Oh yeah?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why? So you can cheat off my paper?"

He chuckled. "No, of course not. Though having someone to talk over all the riveting topics sounds like a great idea."

She laughed and leaned closer to him. "Sure, whatever you say. I think you're just copying me." Then she pecked his lips. "But I don't mind."

He smiled. "Good, I really don't wanna read anything else."

And he kissed her, supporting himself on both hands so she didn't have to lean over into him too much. His hands, balled into fists, sunk into the mattress and moved all of their school supplies, not that either of them cared. They became too involved in each other to notice or do anything about it, even though the kiss wasn't vigorous or very empassioned. It was sweet and simple and lovely.

She loved it.

As the weeks passed, Reader grew bigger. Her belly rounded out and the pudgy fat that once resided there became a hard bump. It was harder to hide but she managed.

She knew the longer she let the secret dwell, the worse it would be when she told people. But she didn't care. She loved having the pregnancy just her hers and Hawk's. It was theirs to keep, theirs to smile about in his car and talk about in whispers. No one else was involved and it was perfect. It was amazing.

What wasn't so amazing was a charity dinner her parents wanted to drag her and her siblings to for the evening. She didn't care how important it was to them or the business. After the long day she'd had, including a secret doctor's visit with Hawk, all she wanted to do was lay down and sleep. Her feet were killing her but it wasn't as if she could spring the pregnancy on her parents and ask them to go without her.

As she went through her wardrobe, she wandered around her room in nothing but her panties and a maternity shirt Hawk had gotten her. It was solid black but stretched just right to accommodate her bump. She got caught up at the mirror, looking at her reflection as she held her baby bump affectionately.

When she thought about it, she couldn't believe she'd hated Hawk so much before. His rivalry with the Miyagi-Do students wasn't her battle at all, no matter if Sam was in the middle of it all or not. She had no real reason to hate him and the same was true about him. He'd never really hated her, only acted like it because that was "what he was supposed to do" because of her family. She was a LaRusso and Cobra Kai was supposed to hate them for some reason. She chose not to worry with it anymore, especially since their little one was on the way.

She hoped the fighting would be over by the time they were born. As if that were the most pressing issue in all of this, but it was ever-present on her mind. It was all her father and sister could talk about, her friends were caught in the middle of it; Hell, sometimes it was the only thing the school was talking about. It was inescapable and she just wanted it to be over. For her baby's sake.

"Sweetheart, are you ready? We're gonna be late if you-" a voice said from behind her.

Reader turned with a startle, grabbing her shirt to cover her belly. However, it was too late. Her father had seen her bump.

He stared at her for a long moment, standing in her doorway froze. He pointed to her belly and asked, "Is that what I think it is?"

"Dad, I can explain," she said.

"Then start explaining," he said. He sounded lost, like his mind and body were disconnected. He stared at her expectantly nonetheless and waited for her to start talking.

"Um, well," she said, completely unprepared. Her hands shook and the shirt fell from her hands, revealing her bump once more. She averted her eyes, unable to look at her father. "I'm pregnant..."

He nodded, understanding that much. Perhaps he just had to hear her say it, but that didn't make the situation any better. He looked her over, mouth falling open. "You're so big. How... how could you hide this from us?"

"I'm not that far along, Dad, really. It's just because I'm fat," she said.

"You're not fat, sweetheart," he said, an automatic and well-meaning statement she'd heard her whole life. However, it was misplaced here.

Reader rolled her eyes and huffed, though she felt like she was trying to catch her breath. She was halfway between screaming and crying. This wasn't exactly how she wanted her dad to find out. "I'm fat, Dad. Deal with it because that's not even the problem here."

He was trying to give himself time to let it sink in. That's what Reader told herself, but as she saw the lost look leave his eyes, anger settled in them. And she knew why.

"Who did this?"

"Dad-"

"No, Reader, tell me. Who did this to you?"

"He didn't do this to me," she said, scoffing. "We fucked."

He cringed and waved his hands in the air, not wanting to hear her vulgar description of it. "Sweetheat-"

"Who is he!?"

"Hawk!"

Everything stopped. The air grew tense. Her boyfriend's name left her lips before she could fully think about it and her heart sank, fear gripping it.

Then Daniel turned and marched downstairs.

"Dad!" Reader went after him. She wasn't waddling yet, but it felt like it was just around the corner if she was being honest. "Dad, stop! Where are you going!?"

"Daniel?" Amanda's voice came from the foyer.

Daniel walked past her and grabbed his keys, angrily opening the front door.

"Dad! Please don't do something stupid!"

He turned to look at his daughter, shaking his head. "I'm gonna do anything stupid, dear. I'm just gonna go have a little talk with that- that selfish, moronic, violent snake!"

He slammed the door behind him and Reader jumped. Amanda came to her side and hugged her, only then noticing her bump.

"Oh, honey..."

"Mom, he's gonna kill him!" Reader cried, tears quickly welling in her eyes and falling down her cheeks. She shook horribly and cried in her mother's arms, inconsolable.

"Shh, he's not going to hurt anyone, honey," Amanda whispered, rubbing her daughter's back soothingly. She kissed her head, unsure if she could trust her own words. They were in uncharted territory, and knowing her husband, there was no telling what he'd actually do to the boy. "It's going to be okay."

"But he-he thinks Ha-Hawk is just a punk that knocked me up!" Reader cried. "But we love each other! We really do! This didn't just ha-happen because of something totally stupid! He-he takes such good care of me, M-mom!"

"What's going on?" Sam asked, coming down the stairs. She stopped as she saw her distraught sister crying in their mother's arms.

"Sam, sweetie," Amanda said softly, looking up at her. "Go get your sister some clothes."

"And my phone!" Reader yelled, not meaning too.

She had to warn Hawk that her father was coming for him. She didn't know how he was going to find her boyfriend, but knowing her dad, he had his ways. He always knew where to look and if she knew her dad at all, she'd look for a snake in its den. She just hoped karate training was over.

[meeks-just-wants-to-scroll]

Asking asking askiiiing...

Micah: 5, 9

Javier: 7, 8

Pearson: 14, 26 (Freebie: What would his favorite food be to make, if he didn't have to cook outdoors and in bulk? i.e. not being stuck with stew.)

Micah

5: What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

At the moment I have I Want It All by Lana Del Rey stuck in my head so I am a bit biased… at the moment. (Such a cunty song for him).😁

For serious songs I associate with him, Frontier Psychiatrist by The Avalanches is spot on. It is fun, it is chaotic, it sounds like a collection of disconnected memories and audio clips, it focuses on the unwell mental state of a person, so on…

I know some people tie metal music into Micah. Maybe it is me not liking metal music, but I’ve always associated Micah with wind instrument band music. American Venom or various songs from the RDR1 and RDR2 sound track capture the power of Micah to me; he carries the name of his past kin and wields it like his duel revolvers. He is feared and it only feels right a triumphant band of trumpets and electric guitar accompany him.

9: Could you be roommates with this character?

Haha NOOOOOO. Regardless of if it is canon Micah or a modern AU Micah, I think he would be a pain to deal with. Micah mainly does his own thing so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I don’t wanna dwell and put TOO much thought into this, but I feel like Micah would be a cruddy roommate whenever he is inside the house, but the majority of the time he is out of the house doing something illegal or morally dubious.

Javier

7: What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

Tough, not because there isn’t a lot I love but because there is a lot that I love. The fandom has been pretty good to Javier in my opinion. Maybe too good and excuse him of his faults but that is not the focus of the question.

I do like when the fandom sheds light on Javier’s past, his family, his flaws, and his struggles. Idk if I have seen any art or fan fiction about Javier and his sister, but I want to. Idk if I have seen anything even about Javier in Mexico prior to the VDL gang. The small crumbs that are talked about by the fandom, I reaaaaally appreciate.

8: What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

I am not sure because the fandom is usually respectful about Javier. There isn’t anything I despise, at most I roll my eyes.

I was going to say I felt the constant use of google translate Spanish in fan fiction felt ooc but I realized over time that Javier just does that and interchangeably uses English and Spanish in-game. Plus there is no one right way to right a character. Even if it was ooc that would be fine.

I think people (once again) infantilizing and excusing Javier of his flaws is an annoyance. That and steam rolling his rough edges and flaws to make him this suave guy who gets all the ladies. This man returns to camp smelling like fish and with dirt covered hands from worm collecting. He may have good clothing and hygiene but this man is also unsexy in his own ways. He is unconventionally sexy. You don’t need to replace parts of him to make him “better”. He is already a good character, you just gotta appreciate what’s there.

Pearson

14: Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character.

D: oh no. I was not ready for Pearson headcanon time.

I feel like much of what Pearson already wears (minus the top hat and a few others) would fit into modern day as some sort of thrifted aesthetic, assuming the clothes are cleaned and not blood stained.

I especially like his sweater outfit which makes me think he would enjoy nice big sweaters the girls find on social media and then buy for him. They’re almost all muted colors and patterns. He especially likes the ones depicting nature like this one.

26: favorite food to make with no restrictions.

I don’t have a solid idea for this one so excuse me as I take this in a unserious route: BURGER!

I can just imagine Pearson in a modern AU being a grill dude. He just wants to BBQ and feel good with a beer in his hands on a spring/summer afternoon. He isn’t obligated to provide food for the gang anymore, but he is happy to be invited over by Dutch to talk and grill.

Pearson is a man of varied cuisine so burgers aren’t his only thing. He does others. Burgers are just a crowd pleaser, not too difficult to make, and easy to customize. He might’ve even tried making those new fangled vegan burger black bean things for the gang members who don’t eat meat anymore (cough cough, Mary-Beth).

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

-Ode to Grief #3-

The concubine and the musician passed each other outside the king's bedchamber. It was past midnight. The musician was on his way in, and the concubine was on her way out. Both were carted around in a litter, although for very different reasons. 

Gao Jianli could not see her, but he knew a woman was there. He could smell her perfume and hear the creak of the sandalwood chair bouncing in time to the eunuchs’ footsteps. Her chair had only four pallbearers. Gao Jianli's had eight. That probably meant something, although he did not want to dwell on it. 

He wished desperately that he could see her face, to know what she might be thinking. How he wished to see a face. Anyone's face. 

The King of Qin amused himself liberally with the women, but they were never permitted to stay the night. He slept alone and kept a sword by his side. Gao Jianli knew this because the king had swung the sword at his face the first time he entered his bedchamber--to check that he was really blind. And he was, of course, so he hadn't flinched or even understood what was happening until a lock of his hair had fallen at his feet. 

The king had relaxed after that, and thus began their present arrangement. Gao Jianli would arrive every night, kneel at the foot of the king’s bed and play for hours and hours on end, not leaving until dawn crept in, the crickets fell silent, and the birds picked up their chorus.

It was not wholly accurate to say that the king slept with no one. He slept with Gao Jianli—and the musician suspected that he could not sleep without Gao Jianli. 

The king was drafting bills at his desk when Gao Jianli was announced and ushered inside. He could hear the rattling of the bamboo and the whisper of the brush. The faint smell of perfume still lingered in the room. 

"Ah, good evening, Court Composer! No, no, please don��t ke tou. I’ve told you, it makes me feel stupid when people do that while I’m in my underwear.” The servants led Gao Jianli to his designated mat. Another handed him the zhu--which had been locked away and inspected every night--and he clung to it like a drowning man finding flotsam. The bamboo drumstick and taunt silk strings had become the only things that felt real in this terrifying new world of shades and vertigo. He only felt whole when his instruments were safely in his hands.

“How do you like your new clothes?" said the king. 

"I’m sure they’re splendid, Your Highness, but I’m afraid their beauty is lost on me.”

The king laughed, “I mean, how do they feel? Are they comfortable? Easy to move in? I hope you don’t mind, but I had my tailor hem the coat a little higher than is proper so you wouldn’t trip over.”

“That’s very thoughtful, Your Highness,” Gao Jianli ran his hands over the zhu's wooden belly, checking it for any dents and scratches. 

“The colour is very becoming. You look like a proper Sage of Music now.” 

“His Highness does me too much honour,” No, no, no! Someone had tuned it wrong! The fourth string was painfully over-drawn, and Gao Jianli quickly eased it back, letting out a sigh of relief as the instrument was returned to its proper state. 

“I say! It’s drafty in here, isn’t it?” The king rose and bustled about the room. Moments later, something soft and heavy was draped over Gao Jianli’s shoulders—one of the duvets from the bed. The smell of perfume was stronger now. A large wooden table was dragged over to his left side, plates rattling. “Would you like a snack? Let’s see, there’s beef, lamb, swan, wild boar, abalone, shark-fin…Please stop and rest as often as you wish—good health isn’t something gold can buy, you know!” 

“I don’t want to eat.” 

“Some tea, then,” the king poured him a cup and blew on it gently, “careful, it’s still quite hot.”  

------------------------ [small pov shift! I'm going to try write this part with QSH's voice. lets see if all that roleplaying helped!] 

The king settled back down at the desk and picked up his brush, although he was far too eager to resume his work. He watched Gao Jianli tune his instrument from the corner of his eye and played a little game with himself; what would the Sage of Music entertain him with tonight? The Kingdom of Yan, for all its sickening frivolity and excess, produced extraordinary artists. The fact that he had acquired their best and brightest star was just further proof of heaven's favour. 

The musician shunned the stand, preferring to balance the zhu on his knees. One of his little idiosyncrasies. It muffled the sound somewhat, softening each note into something indescribably sweet and inviting. 

Gao Jianli bowed his head, was still for a long moment, and did something he’d never done before. He opened his mouth and began to sing. 

The king was rather taken aback. Unlike his legendary skills with the zhu, Gao Jianli’s voice was not a thing of breathless beauty or a technical marvel. It was reedy and feeble, fluttering like a moth in the vast, high-walled bedroom. He had obviously been crying—again--and his nose was stuffy. And yet, the sound was still utterly bewitching. The king sat forwards, his hands upon the desk, struggling to catch the words. 

Wait. This was his song! Gao Jianli was singing Without Clothes, the Qin battle anthem. It was a simple, stout chant signifying the people’s willingness to go to war. The king had heard it sung by soldiers, a hundred thousand voices raised as one unified roar, fit to shake the heavens. He had never heard it sung like this, had never heard anything like this. This fervent, tearful whisper. The low, agonised keening of an injured beast. Gao Jianli touched the strings as if he was afraid they might break. The zhu in his lap wailed and wailed like a lost child. He played like a man in his death throes, gutted and slowly bleeding out. 

“How can you say you have no clothes?  I’ll share my coat with you. The king calls us to arms, I’ll prepare my axe and spear to fight with you.”

How can you say you have no clothes?  I’ll share my shirt with you. The king calls us to arms, I’ll prepare my spear and halberd to stand with you.

How can you say you have no clothes?  I’ll share my skirt with you. The king calls us to arms, I’ll don my armour and weapons to march with you. 

And just like that, the song was over, and the last note petered into silence. 

King Ying Zheng sat frozen in place, trembling from head to foot, unable to understand what he was feeling. His eyes stung, his throat ached as if it had been slit open, and his chest felt vice-tight. The closest he had ever felt like this was when that dagger-wielding madman chased him around the throne room, except this was much, much worse. It felt like someone had hacked off one of his limbs. Like a raw, jagged hole had been carved into his chest, leaving him hollow and so desperately empty. 

Ying Zheng’s first instinct was to have Gao Jianli dragged out and executed. No. That wasn’t enough. He needed to cut off the hands of every musician in the country and throw their instruments onto a flaming pyre. He was a fool to think he would be safe by taking Gao Jianli’s eyes. He should have torn out his tongue and locked that wretched thing away inside a box of salt, right next to Gao Jianli’s treacherous heart. 

“Play it again,” Ying Zheng said hoarsely. 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“It can’t be done.”

The king’s voice was dangerously soft, “can’t be done, or you won’t do it?” 

“Both, I suppose.” 

Ying Zheng was on his feet, scattering the bamboo books and brushes with a clatter. Hearing the commotion, the guards rushed into the room. The king held them off. 

“I have been more than lenient with you, Court Composer,” he hissed. “I have spared your life and given you the honour of serving me. I shower you with gifts and treat you with every courtesy, yet you have shown me nothing but contempt. First, you sing this seditious song and now you dare to defy me. You will play it again. Your King commands it.” 

Gao Jianli sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve, leaving a shiny trail of snot on the silk Ying Zheng had personally picked out for him. He was still weeping softly.

“Command the oceans to empty,” he said, “command the sun to run backwards in the sky. Command the dead to rise from their graves and bid them to speak. Once you have done all that, I will play this song again.” 

----------------------

Notes: the emperor's shadow has reached into my brain and rearranged ALL my neurones. here is the song gao jianli is singing. As you can see, I've changed the words slightly because my focus is on flow rather than accuracy. the biggest change is "the king calls us to arms" I've done it to give the song more immediacy and also to reflect the intent of the original "the king is summoning eager warriors."

[unproblematickingcharlieswan]

Bella Swan Was A Rich Bitch

I’m slowly making my way through the Twilight series for the first time since 2009 and I have a lot of thoughts. Here are some: 

Bella claims she grew up poor. I disagree. I think she grew up at the very least middle class for the USA, despite being raised by a single mother.

(We all know Charlie paid that child support on time.) 

Firstly, she grew up in a house, which her mother seems to own, as there is no mention of a landlord or paying rent. 

Renée even leaves this property unattended for months on end while she lives in another state with her husband, Phil. When Bella returns to the house at the end of Twilight, it’s empty, so Renée didn’t need to rent it out during her absence and, presumably, simply owns two different properties simultaneously. 

She’s even still paying the electric and phone bills, as Bella can turn on the lights and use the phone although the house has been empty for months. (p. 476)

This house, I imagine, had more than one bathroom, as sharing a bathroom with a parent is embarrassing to Bella. 

When describing Charlie’s house, Bella says, “There was only one small bathroom at the top of the stairs, which I would have to share with Charlie. I was trying not to dwell too much on that fact.” (p. 9)

She finds it foreign and off-putting to share a bathroom with someone, to the point that she keeps all her toiletries in a bag that she stores in her bedroom, and brings the bag with her to the bathroom whenever she goes. She is described doing this multiple times over the course of the book. 

The book takes place c. 2005, and Bella has a computer with internet access. She accepts these as given, rather than privileges.  “The only changes Charlie had ever made were switching the crib for a bed and adding a desk as I grew. The desk now held a secondhand computer, with the phone line for the modem stapled along the floor to the nearest phone jack. This was a stipulation from my mother, so that we could stay in touch easily.” (p. 9)

The author repeatedly uses the marker “secondhand” to insinuate Bella’s relative poverty, but the mere fact she has a computer of her own, as well as home internet access, sets her apart from truly socioeconomically disadvantaged kids. 

Bella participated in at least one extra-curricular activity as a child. 

And a very expensive one at that: ballet. (p. 454)

Come on.

Bella and her mother have a piano.

“I suddenly remembered my childhood fantasy that, should I ever win a lottery, I would buy a grand piano for my mother. She wasn’t really good—she only played for herself on our secondhand upright—but I loved to watch her play.” (p. 351)

The author makes a point of mentioning it’s an upright piano (cheaper than a grand) and that it’s secondhand. However, unless the piano came with their house, they would have had to pay for the piano itself (often several thousand dollars for a used upright) as well as to transport it to their home (professional transportation of pianos can also cost several thousand dollars). Pianos require maintenance/tuning (usually a couple hundred dollars per tuning session), which are additional costs. Unlike a ukulele or a fife, a piano is not a cheap instrument to own or play and there are more than upfront costs. 

Her mother has nice clothes, and pays to maintain them. 

Bella’s mother e-mails her asking whether she knows where her pink blouse is. Bella responds, “Your blouse is at the dry cleaners—you were supposed to pick it up Friday.” (p. 34)

Dry cleaning a blouse implies that not only it is made from an expensive material (silk, chiffon, linen, suede, leather, etc.), but also that the owner has the monetary resources, time, and transportation to bring it to a dry cleaner and pay someone to clean it for them. 

Bella doesn’t bother to bring most of her clothes with her when she moves to Forks. 

“I had only a few bags. Most of my Arizona clothes were too permeable for Washington. My mom and I had pooled our resources to supplement my winter wardrobe, but it was still scanty. It all fit easily into the trunk of the cruiser.” (p. 5)

It seems odd to me that Bella never thought about layering her lighter clothing in Washington, particularly because this was written in the early 2000s. I think the “my mom and I had pooled our resources” line is an attempt by the author to demonstrate they don’t have money to buy her new clothes, however, when she gets to Forks, Bella has enough pocket money to consider doing some shopping on a trip to Seattle later in the book. (p. 160)

Bella, who notoriously feels guilty about everything, goes to the hospital twice in Twilight, including for several days at the end of the book, but never worries about how much it will all cost her family. 

She suffered life-threatening bleeding and broken bones (leg, ribs, and skull), and was admitted for several nights. I’ve never lived in the USA but the internet tells me this is extremely expensive. She isn’t remotely worried about it.

Bella doesn’t have a job, but she has money.   

She’s 17 and unemployed, so I’m not sure where it comes from. An allowance? But an allowance is only possible if parents have wealth to spare. 

In all her reminiscing about Arizona, Bella doesn’t so much as recall a babysitting gig. So where do her funds come from? The only time she uses Charlie's money is to pay for groceries.

“I had more money than I was used to having, since, thanks to Charlie, I hadn’t had to pay for a car. Not that the truck didn’t cost me quite a bit in the gas department.” (p. 84)

She doesn’t get a job until New Moon, but she planned on using her own money to buy a car and fuel it without even considering applying for a job in Twilight (and we know every thought that goes through her head). Further, unlike any truly poor kid, she doesn't seem to consider walking or cycling options despite living in a small town (I assume a community the size of Forks would not have a robust public transportation system).

She eats at restaurants, considers clothing and book shopping, etc., without any care about paying for anything. She is supposed to be a conscientious girl who made sure her mother’s bills were paid, so if money were an issue, we should expect her to think about it.

TL;DR

Bella wasn’t poor. Renée wasn’t poor. Charlie wasn’t poor. 

The author was certainly never poor. 

[dearestones]

A Waste of Time (Yandere! Alex Kralie x Reader)

Warnings: Yandere character, yandere behavior, erratic behavior, delusional behavior, etc. 

Anonymous Request: hi!! im so excited that requests are open! i really love your work and was wondering if i could request Yandere! Alex Kralie (mh), with reader?

(also im not sure if we are allowed to ask for scenarios but im adding this just incase, if not you can just cut this out of the request; can you fo a scenario where reader is running from alex, ends up hiding somewhere as they’re running [ie: behind a tree, abandoned building, bushes, ect.] and ends up passing out once their adrenaline begins to run out. possibly with Alex finding them like that? i think he’d be pretty scary once he finds reader! sorry for rambling, again i just really like your works 😞😞 have an amazing night/day)

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Not many people know this, but in Alabama there were a plethora of abandoned buildings in and out around the forests. Most of the time, these buildings were nothing of note. Usually, they no longer served any purpose, were condemned due to health concerns, or they had outlived their use. For some of the more well known locations, police would scout out the areas in case there were any squatters. Normally, this would have been upsetting, but tonight, you wanted someone to find you.

Someone other than Alex.

For months now, you were on the run with Alex Kralie. He had been a neighbor of yours who used to live with his long time partner, Amy. However, some time ago, you realized that she no longer frequented the property. You, being curious, asked and he had replied that he had an amicable breakup with her. At the time, he looked disturbed and angry, but you assumed that it was because he was still smarting from the effects of the breakup.

Now, after listening to his muttered ramblings and the effects of the creature that lived in your peripheral vision, you knew better.

Alex was haunted by the Operator.

Alex was no longer stable.

And you need to get away.

The thing with Alex, however, was that not only was he focused and dead set on targeting former members of his old film project, but he was also paranoid and detail oriented. This meant that you had to be cautious when planning to leave. There were times when he almost caught you trying to hide essentials in your duffel bag or even trying to broach the subject of you leaving because last you checked, while the Operator did attack you a few times, he or it wasn’t particularly interested in you. 

It wanted Alex. 

So, when you realized that Alex was more frazzled than usual, you did not hesitate. You picked up your duffel bag, ducked out the motel’s exit, and began hightailing it towards the forest. The plan was that you would run as fast as you could into the woods, a place that you had become unwillingly far too acquainted with, and take shelter in an abandoned shack. You and Alex had laid low there a few times, but you knew for a fact that whenever Alex had become far too engrossed in his work or consumed by his paranoia, he tended to spend hours by himself.

If you were lucky, you would wake before dawn before heading off towards another town so that you can buy yourself a burner phone and then get back to a life with normalcy. 

Exhausted now, you crept into the desolate shack. As always, the small dwelling was not fit for human habitation, but you had no choice. There was a menagerie of garbage, scraps of clothing, and even a collection of crushed cans in the corner. The smell of rot was heavy and pungent in the air, which was exacerbated by the humid air that filled your lungs. 

You pressed an old shirt onto your shirt, which you had sprayed with perfume just for this occasion. 

Even if you wanted to retch from the horrid smell, you were glad that there wasn’t another person staying here with you. 

If there was one thing that you didn’t want to encounter more than a delusional Alex, it was an unknown human being with intentions you were also not familiar with. 

Tired now from all the running and the adrenaline rush that accompanied it, you curled up into a corner that you supposed was somewhat cleaner than the rest of the dank space. Here, you placed your head atop your bag and hoped to whatever god was out there that you would sleep the night through and wake in the morning without any trouble.

With exhaustion weighing down your eyelids and your muscles, you settled into a fitful slumber. 

Another thing that you should know about living with a person who was as paranoid and as erratic as Alex was that you had to learn to wake and be alert at the slightest disturbance. There were times when you would burst awake in the dead of night only to find that Alex had slammed his laptop closed a little too hard. Once, when you were still new to this, you opened your eyes only to find that the strangely dressed figure of the Operator was standing above you. 

You feared Alex, but you absolutely dreaded that hateful creature.

When you awoke, it wasn’t because of a slight disturbance in the night like a harsh wind passing through the broken window. Rather, you felt the strong grip of someone’s hand closing tight around your windpipe and you heard the rough, deep breaths of someone exerting so much effort above you. 

Gasping aloud, you looked up only to find that in the darkness above you, which was only illuminated by the barest glimmer of moonlight. Was it the Operator? Had the creature of darkness that had haunted Alex for so long had decided that you were a worthy meal after so long? 

Struggling with the will to survive now, your hands scratched at the wrist of the hand that held you down while your legs kicked and bucked up at the being above you.

“Finally awake, huh?”

You seized in fear when you realized that it was Alex. 

And he was angry. 

In a last ditch effort to save yourself from this deranged madman, you reared your head back and sprung forward. The instant your skull made contact with him, he yelped and his hands slacked. Taking that opportunity, you pushed him off you, your strength still paling in comparison to his, but at the very least you were able to escape. 

Ignoring your duffle bag, you hurried out of the makeshift shelter and urged your legs to move longer, move faster. 

Behind you, Alex was only regaining his breath.

It was now or never. 

With the evidence of Alex’s violent rage fresh in your mind and smarting on your skin, you hurried forward. 

.

.

.

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone yandere behavior outside of fictional settings. Please don’t mistake the actions of fictional characters displayed in works of fiction to be considered harmless in real life.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

MARBLE HORNETS MASTERLIST

[also-an-art]

I remember a while back you had an idea about Sch/att and an eating contest and the time warp thing? Anyway, I was wondering if you could write a little thing about his thought process after he wins, like the aftermath if that makes sense lol. How he’s sitting there and reveling in how he’s fuller than he’s ever been.

you are a truly loyal og anon bc i had to scroll back through like three years of asks to find this post to remember the details i appreciate u so much i was literally randomly thinking of this mini au the other day

It's over. It's over. 32 days of this fucking time loop and Schl/att finally won. Fuck that demon-wizard-whatever prick to all hell and back, it's over.

He hardly has time to think or process anything directly after winning, too busy trying to hold himself together and not look completely debauched as he's cheered for and presented with his award money, which he couldn't give less of a fuck about. When the presenter asks what he's gonna do with the money, he answers with an honest "I have no idea", to which the presenter cheerfully replies "more pie?" He manages a laugh, as if he ever wants to touch pie ever again.

Finally, after what feels like forever but is probably just ten minutes of bells and whistles, he manages to escape and use the first dollar and a half of his prize to buy himself a ginger ale from a vending machine-- he's familiarized himself with every inch of this festival in the past month, that's for sure-- and sit down somewhere quiet and secluded where he can nurse himself.

Christ, it had to have been just the adrenaline of finally winning and having all eyes on him that gave him the momentum to get this far, because now that he's sitting he feels like he's gonna be beached here for the rest of the day. The winning three and a quarter pies sit heavily in his belly, which is as bloated as he's ever seen it, pushing out past the waistband of his preemptively unbuttoned pants and straining the buttons on his shirt. Jesus, he's gonna have to buy all new clothes. He supposes that's what the prize money is for. He can't help but dwell on the simple fact that he had no one who would really care enough to notice him magically gaining twenty pounds overnight-- which he again supposes is maybe the lesson he was supposed to learn. Fuck, he's giving into the time loop moral bullshit. He wishes it wasn't right.

No one but... Quac/kity. Of all people. He'd truly never really noticed him before, and now... well, now it hurts him to think that he doesn't remember any of the days they'd had in the past couple weeks. He'd still told him this morning like he always did, accompanied by the details Quac/kity told him every day to tell to him the next day so he'd believe him, and he earnestly believed him like he always did. He can't help but wonder about Quac/kity's eagerness with all of this, the gentle but firm way he'd coach him through their little training sessions, the slight shyness with which he'd make teasing remarks-- fuck. He doesn't know if there were some wires crossed somewhere, or some kind of psychological damage from all this, but he can't help but link them all, his heightened stomach capacity and his steadily growing crush on his coworker. As he sits there, the fullest he's ever been, thoroughly glutted to the point where it hurts to breath, sitting in his too small business clothes-- he wishes Quac/kity was here. He wishes he could see him like this.

He opens his phone. There's two texts from him.

Q: congrats!! i was watching!! very impressive imo

Q: we have to get drinks tonight so you can tell me everything about this mysterious time loop

Schl/att finds himself smiling at his phone. Goddamnit, he's successfully learned his stupid time loop lesson. And he's got the stretchmarks and new kink to prove it.

[headcanonsandmore]

“Half Agony, Half Hope” Chapter Four

Summary: In the aftermath of the revelations of the previous chapter (namely, that Tegan cares for Nyssa to an extent Nyssa would have never dared to dream), how will Nyssa progress from here? The two of them have drawn closer, yet a small amount of distance and hesitancy still keeps them apart. Will they overcome it? In our concluding chapter, we find out...

Tag list:  @serenbex @lonely-space-ace

~~~~~~~                      Read on FFN.                         Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~

Nyssa did not have time to dwell much on the events of the ball, although she would have dearly liked to. She did not even have a chance to speak to Tegan about what had changed between them during that conversation outside the main hall.

This was because word had reached their family that Henrietta had also been proposed to, meaning that two wedding preparations were happening simultaneously. And, since most of the extended family was now staying in Bath, the wedding preparations would be taking place in the house Nyssa and her family were staying in.

Mary and Charles had arrived, in a whirl of ‘hello’s and ‘how have you been’s.

‘And what brings Mrs Musgrove to Bath?’ enquired Lord Tremas, as he walked his youngest daughter up the stairs.

‘She’s come to buy wedding clothes for Henrietta and Louise,’ Mary replied, excitedly. ‘It is so exciting; it makes me giddy. A double wedding!’

Nyssa did not say anything, but followed everyone else upstairs. She would have dearly loved a moment to herself just to think more about Tegan, but her family (especially Mary and Elisabeth) did not seem to notice this. And so the wedding preparations had begun. Nyssa found herself ensconced in the very centre of things, as Mrs Musgrove seemed to rate her opinion very highly.

‘What do you think for Louisa’s hair, Nyssa?’ Mrs Musgrove asked her. The two of them were sat with Henrietta, sorting through various examples of fabric. Mary was stood by the window. The older woman extended two different types towards Nyssa. ‘This one or this one?’

As Nyssa leaned forward to inspect them, Henrietta spoke.

‘Louisa has become so severe, ma-ma; I wonder if she will want a ribbon in her hair at all’- the three of them giggled- ‘Give her a book of verse to hold instead!’

At that moment, the door opened.

‘Ma-ma,’ said Charles’s voice. ‘Look who I found.’

‘Oh, Captain Jovanka; how lovely to see you again!’

Nyssa froze in her seat. 

Her chair happened to be facing away from the door. She had not seen Tegan at all since the previous evening at the ball, and her nerves were immediately on-edge. What was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to speak with Tegan in front of everyone else, knowing what she now knew? And, oh, how was she supposed to keep her feelings hidden under the calm façade that her family had long since assumed was her natural personality?

‘I’ve been to the theatre, and I’ve secured a box for tomorrow night,’ said Charles, smiling.

‘Oh, wonderful,’ Mrs Musgrove said, before turning to Nyssa. ‘Nyssa, you will accompany us, I hope?’

‘O-oh, well I am obliged to you, Mrs Musgrove,’ Nyssa replied, her brain still reeling. ‘But I cannot; there is an evening party at Camden Place to which, I understand, you shall all be invited.’

‘An evening party?’ Charles exclaimed, doubtfully.

‘If it only depended upon me, I assure you I would prefer the theatre. But… I have an obligation to my family.’

‘Then we shall go another time when you are free to join us,’ Mrs Musgrove said, kindly.

‘Thank you.’

‘Captain Harville; please, come sit with me,’ Henrietta said, helping the man into a seat. ‘I am desperately in need of a fresh opinion.’

Nyssa got up from her seat and moved across the room, away from the others. As she did so, she could help but feel Tegan’s eyes upon her. She had still not been able to dwell too much on their last conversation. But… oh, it made her heart rejoice to understand that Tegan did not hate Nyssa for the way she had treated her those seven years ago.

‘Perhaps…’

Nyssa startled. Tegan had come to stand next to her.

‘… you have not been in Bath long enough,’ Tegan continued. ‘To enjoy these parties they give.’

‘They… mean nothing to me.’ Nyssa replied. ‘Those who hold them believe the theatre to be beneath their dignity. But… I am no card player.’

Tegan looked at her, and the taller woman’s face broke into a smile.

‘No,’ she replied. ‘You never were, were you, Nys?’

Nyssa smiled, a small chuckle escaping her lips.

‘Indeed,’ she said. ‘I have never been one for gambling. I… I am not given to flights of fancy. I simply do what I can with what I have, and I am aware that is not saying a lot.’

‘Not a lot, you say?’ Tegan replied, quietly. ‘It seems to me that you do not care much for yourself… or for your attributes, of which you are graced with a great deal, if I may say so.’

‘I… I cannot claim to agree with you,’ Nyssa said. ‘You are surely biased to be far too generous with your praise, given your own extensive list of admirable qualities, which includes great loyalty. The… greatest of loyalty, even if the person upon whom that loyalty is based does not deserve such.’

‘And if they do deserve such? Is good judgement not a quality I can claim?’

Nyssa stared at her.

‘I… I suppose the person in question must be a truly lucky person, to receive such loyalty.’

‘Luck would have nothing to do with it. Loyalty is earned, and is not given lightly.’

A moment passed between them. Nyssa was suddenly struck by how… natural this felt. It was as if the past seven years had fallen by the wayside, and no time had passed at all. Just… the two of them conversing, making the other smile. It was so easy that Nyssa found herself shocked that things had fallen back into place without her even realising it.

Maybe such a moment to elaborate on their previous conversation had presented itself? After all, the rest of the rooms occupants were so caught up in wedding preparations to notice them. Perhaps she could ask Tegan to accompany her downstairs on some errand? Nyssa opened her mouth to speak-

‘I say, is that Mr Elliott standing under the colonnade?’

Mary was still stood by the window, but had spoken loudly so that the entire room could hear her. Nyssa was silent for a moment, before sadly letting out a small sigh. Tegan’s eyes flickered, as if she noticed this. But Nyssa had no way of elaborating further; the moment had passed.

‘It cannot be,’ Nyssa said, reluctantly turning away from Tegan. ‘I believe he told Elisabeth that he had gone out of Bath for two days. To stay with some friends at Combe Park.’

‘I think I may be relied upon to recognise my own cousin,’ Mary said, irritably. ‘Come and look.’

Nyssa let out another small sigh and headed across the room to stand next to Mary. Sure enough, Mr Elliott was standing a while away.

‘How strange,’ Mary said. ‘He does not look best pleased with who he is speaking to.’

The person was a young woman and an older man, presumably her father. There was much waving of arms as well as clearly loud voices, although they did not carry across the street and through the windows.

Nyssa had a sneaking suspicion that all would be revealed the next time she visited Mrs Smith, given Nurse Rooke’s habit of notifying her of gossip amongst the gentry living in and around the city.

Nyssa came to stand beside Captain Harville, who was examining a miniature portrait.

‘Is that…’

‘Captain Benwick?’ he replied. ‘Yes. But it was not drawn for Louisa Musgrove. It was drawn at the cape, for my sister. And now… I have the charge of getting it set for another. It… it is too much for me, I confess; so she undertakes it.’

Harville nodded towards Tegan, who was now sat at the desk writing a letter.

‘She’s writing instructions to the frame makers now,’-Harville’s face grew stiff- ‘Poor Phoebe. She… she would not have forgotten him so soon. It was… well, not in her nature.’

‘It would not be in the nature of any woman who has truly loved,’ Nyssa said, quietly.

‘Do you claim that for women?’

‘I will admit that I have never been drawn to men but… from what I can gather from other women that do, women do not forget men as soon as vice versa. I suppose many cannot help themselves. Many… many women live at home; quiet, confined and… feelings can prey upon someone in such circumstances.’

Harville did not respond, and Nyssa took this as a sign to continue.

‘Those away in the navy have something to occupy them… to take them back into the world.’

‘I… I do not feel it is men’s nature any more than women’s to forget, to be inconstant,’ Harville said, quietly, looking out into the rain. ‘Or to forget those they love or have loved. I believe the reverse, I believe…’

At this moment, there was a gentle clunk as a pot from the desk fell to the floor. Tegan reached down and grabbed it.

‘Have you finished your letter?’ Harville asked.

‘Er… not quite,’ Tegan replied. ‘A few lines yet.’

For a second, Tegan’s eyes met Nyssa’s, but then she went back to writing, hunched over the desk with her expression disguised. Nyssa swallowed, unsure of what to make of that.

Harville looked back out the window for a moment, before turning back to Nyssa.

‘From what I have read, all histories seem to be against your view. I do not think I have read a single one that did not have something to say about women’s fickleness.’

‘By “all”,’ Nyssa replied, attempting to pull her mind back onto firmer ground. ‘Are you referring to the histories that were all written by men?’

Harville let out a chuckle before nodding to himself.

‘I suppose,’ he said, going back to the window. ‘If… well, I suppose it is different from the perspective who has gone away to sea. To take a last look at their family… husband, wife, perhaps, and maybe children… and watches the boat that they have sent their family off in, for as long as it is in sight… and then turns away and says “goodness knows whether we will meet again”. The glow of that persons soul when they do see their family once more… it’s something quite unlike anything else.’

‘So long as the person you love lives… and lives for you,’ Nyssa said. ‘I… well, if I can claim something for those left behind -and it is not an enviable something, I admit- is loving longest, when all hope is lost.’

At that moment, the door opened and Lady Croft appeared.

‘Come, Tegan,’ she said, cheerfully. ‘We must part company.’

‘One moment, Sophie,’ Tegan replied, somewhat awkwardly. Nyssa got the strange feeling that Tegan had been eavesdropping on her conversation with Harville. But why did she look so flustered and ill-at-ease? The words Nyssa had spoken were not especially unusual, nor poetic. They were simple truths that Nyssa knew from a lifetime of observing others.

‘Well,’ Lady Croft said, speaking to the room at large. ‘We will all have the privilege of meeting again, later this evening at your party.’

‘Harville,’ Tegan said, climbing to her feet and clearing her throat. ‘If you’re ready, we can depart.’

Lady Croft smiled at Nyssa, before leaving. Tegan and Harville followed, with the former curiously quiet.

‘Now,’ Mrs Musgrove said, walking over to the window. ‘Where have Henrietta and Mary disappeared off to?’

The door reopened, and Tegan appeared. Nyssa found her eyes glued to the taller woman.

‘Forgive me, Mrs Musgrove,’ she said, striding into the room. ‘I left my umbrella.’

However, instead of taking the umbrella and leaving immediately, Tegan stood up, placed a hand on a letter she had just laid onto the desk, and locked eyes with Nyssa.

There was a beat as their eyes met. Nyssa’s heart seemed to skip a beat. Her mind swirled. Her pulse quickened. She felt as if she was once again stricken, unable to move or think. Her brain seemed to have dissolved in a heady swirl of emotions. Through this, her last frazzled nerve spoke with a force she had known in a long time. Move, it begged her, say something, make some sign-

Tegan turned on her heel and left, without another word.

Mrs Musgrove then also left the room, presumably to locate Henrietta and Mary. Her heart racing, Nyssa hurried forward and picked the letter off the desk. It was without an envelope. Through the thin paper, Nyssa could make out the unmistakable untidy scrawl that belonged to Tegan.  

With trembling hands, Nyssa unfolded the paper.

“Come and find me. I must speak with you.”

Nyssa felt as if her head was spinning. The entire axis of her world seemed to have shifted, and she was left floundering, drifting, except for the single thought in her mind. Just one single thought. The most important.

Find her.

‘Nyssa?’

Mrs Musgrove’s voice seemed to reach Nyssa as if from another plane of existence. The older woman had presumably stuck her head through the door to check Nyssa was well.

‘I… I must go. Please excuse me.’

Nyssa hurried out of the room, past Mrs Musgrove, and down the staircase. She quickly collected her coat and hat from the cloakroom and half-walked half-ran out of the door. It was an overcast day, and she was glad of the extra layer due to the cool wind that had a habit of whipping through the city streets.

However, all the cool air in the world could not have tempered Nyssa’s frantically beating heart, which was causing the blood to roar in her ears and her cheeks to flush as if she had just run a great distance. But, in a matter of speaking, the distance she had covered in the past ten minutes within her own mind was as if between two worlds. Her own world and the world that she had previously thought it was impossible for her to reach. A world she had desperately tried to avoid thinking about for seven years. But to no avail, for hear she was, and she was travelling between them as if by a million miles with every step she took.

She hurried down the garden path and out into the road. Nyssa’s eyes darted from left to right. Where was she? Surely Tegan had not left so quickly-

‘Nys?’

Nyssa’s heart seemed to leap into her mouth as she turned.

Tegan was stood barely a few feet away, her eyes wide and burning with a fierce intensity that took Nyssa’s breath away.

‘T-Tegan?’

In her rush to leave the house, Nyssa had kept the short letter clutched in her hand. Tegan’s eyes flew to it, before darting back up to Nyssa’s face.

The two women stepped towards each other. There was barely a few inches of space between them now.

Tegan wet her lips, and began to speak.

‘You pierce my soul. I… I am half agony, half hope.’

Nyssa felt her heart beat painfully against her chest. The world outside of the two of them once again faded to a grey blur.

‘Tell me that I am not too late, Nyssa; that those precious feelings are gone forever,’ Tegan continued, her voice tender. ‘I… I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years ago. I don’t know if a woman’s heart forgets more quickly than that of a man, or whether a woman’s love has an earlier death, but I do know that I have loved no-one but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have definitely been, but never inconstant. Nys… you alone have brought me to Bath. Have you… misunderstood what I mean? A word, a look, will be enough to decide-’

Tegan stopped talking. Because, at that moment, Nyssa had leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips.

It was a kiss that had been seven years in waiting. And, oh, Nyssa felt the weight of those seven years finally ease from her shoulders as Tegan deepened the kiss. After all this time, all those long days of nothingness, the pure feeling of their lips pressed together was impossible to describe and exhilarating to experience. What poetry could accurately chart how Nyssa’s heart beat to the point of stammering? What literature could possibly convey the sparks that shivered up her spine as Tegan’s hand came to rest upon the back of Nyssa’s coat? What art could capture the explosion of colours that erupted within Nyssa’s mind as Tegan gave a soft moan against her lips?

Perfect. Utterly perfect.

The world around them could have fallen away, and Nyssa would not have noticed. She could not imagine a world that did not involve Tegan with her like this.

Slowly, their lips slipped apart, and the two women stared at each other.

Nyssa’s mouth broke into an enormous smile, which she could do nothing to temper. But she honestly did not wish to temper it. After a lifetime of keeping demurely and quietly to herself, she now wished to be as open and honest as she felt agreeable.

Tegan grinned back in response, her eyes sparkling.

‘Blimey, Nys.’

‘I take it my mouth has not forgotten you, as yours has not forgotten mine?’

‘Nyssa!’ Tegan exclaimed, face blushing. ‘We’re in public!’

‘I am well aware of that,’ Nyssa replied, still smiling. ‘But I also care very little at this point.’

‘Bloody hell…’ Tegan said, almost in awe. ‘I… that is, do you still…’

Nyssa leaned forward again and pressed her lips to Tegan’s for a moment, before leaning back, her face only a few inches from Tegan’s.

‘I… I never stopped feeling that way for you,’ Nyssa whispered. ‘I always…’

With gentleness in every movement, Tegan took Nyssa’s hand.

‘I… I tried to forget you, Nys.’

‘I am sorry that you ever felt you ought to,’ Nyssa whispered. ‘But I am also glad that you did not.’

Tegan smiled.

‘I am glad too. May we walk? I imagine the two of us have a lot to discuss.’

Nyssa nodded. She linked her arm through Tegan’s, and the two of them set off through the streets.

                                                              *

 Several hours later, Nyssa and her family were at Camden Place. Nyssa, walking back from discussing the evenings proceedings with the staff, entered the room. The candelabras set around gave an intimate feeling to proceedings, despite the many people in attendance. It was a rather splendid set of rooms, although Nyssa found these sort of occasions most dull. The sort of place that attracted self-important people who cared little for the human amusements of theatre and laughter. Nyssa was wearing her best dress; she would not have normally dressed so well for such an occasion, but she had a different objective this evening.

Henrietta and Charles were sat playing cards with the Admiral and Lady Croft. They all smiled at Nyssa as she passed, which she returned in kind. Lady Russell was sat around a table with Mary, both of them engrossed in a game of cards.

As Nyssa passed another table, a hand reached out and grabbed her by the arm.

‘When Captain Jovanka arrives,’ Elisabeth said, quickly, without so much as a hello. ‘You must not monopolise her. It is a very bad habit of yours.’

Nyssa stared down at her, and raised an eyebrow.

Penelope Shepherd, who was sat across the table from Elisabeth, gave a sympathetic look towards Nyssa. She was used to Elisabeth’s habits, although she clearly did not appreciate them anymore than Nyssa did. Maybe a few months prior, Nyssa would have simply nodded and given in. But Nyssa did not feel willing to do so anymore.

‘Elisabeth, I believe you are missing several cards from your deck,’ Nyssa said. ‘You may wish to check your hand again.’

Miss Shepherd had to cover her mouth with her hand to disguise her smile, as Elisabeth stared down at her cards in confusion. Nyssa walked away from the table, a small smile on her face.

‘Bonaparte had escaped from Alban,’ the Admiral was saying to Henrietta. ‘And raised an army. There is to be another war, by the sounds of things.’

‘So you will have to leave us again, Admiral?’

‘I believe so, yes-’

‘Captain Jovanka and Captain Harville!’

Nyssa turned, towards the door. Sure enough, Tegan had entered the room, accompanied by Harville. The staff member who had announced them was already stepping back into place by the door.

Tegan caught Nyssa’s eye, and the two women nodded at each other in understanding. They had discussed it at length that day, after all. They had wanted to when they were seven years younger, of course, but fate had conspired to give them a painful wait. But that wait had finally come to an end. And neither Nyssa nor Tegan had any intentions of delaying any longer. Not when things had finally fallen into place for them.

‘Captain Jovanka,’ Sir Tremas said, rising to his feet. ‘Come in; please, what will you play?’

‘Actually,’ replied Tegan, smiling. ‘I am here on business, Sir Tremas.’

‘Business?’

‘Yes,’ continued Tegan, and her smile grew further. ‘I am simply here to inform you that Nyssa has asked me to marry her, and that I have accepted. We were hoping to fix a date.’

There was a gasp from around the room, Mary and Elisabeth the loudest amongst them. However, the vast majority of everyone else present -including the rest of the Musgroves- looked elated and grinned happily at Nyssa, Henrietta even letting out a whoop of delight. Sir Tremas was smiling widely.

Nyssa could not stop her smile from growing exponentially as the force of the words sunk in. They were getting married. Nyssa’s family knew they were getting married. And, finally, Nyssa and Tegan could be themselves together once again. It was as if a weight had lifted from Nyssa’s shoulders that she hadn’t even been aware she was carrying.

‘Nyssa?’ Elisabeth exclaimed, hotly. She did not seem to notice the ecstatic jubilation of those around her. ‘You want to marry Nyssa? But… whatever for?’

Tegan did not reply, but instead smiled at Nyssa, her cheeks dimpling as she did so. Nyssa found herself quite elated. And, without thinking on it any further, she strode across the room, slipped her hand into Tegan’s and smiled up at the taller woman. Nyssa’s mind was suddenly full of memories she had long since locked away; of Tegan laughing as they walked in the countryside, of the two of them dancing alone in a quiet part of the Traken estate, of Tegan asking for Nyssa’s hand in marriage all those years ago. And now they were combined with new memories; Tegan and Nyssa walking under the umbrella through Bath, their lips pressed against each other, Nyssa making Tegan laugh earlier that day, Nyssa proposing to Tegan barely two hours before in a quiet public park. And more memories would be created each day, as their lives stretched out before them in a blissful panorama of possibilities.  

‘I imagine love has something to do with it,’ Sir Tremas said, jovially. ‘You have my blessing, of course; I wish you both the very best.’

‘Oh, bravo!’ exclaimed Lady Croft. Beside her, the admiral was smiling widely. ‘A most joyous evening this is! For a while, I thought you two were never going to reconnect.’

‘You knew about this?’ Elisabeth said, glaring in confusion at Lady Croft. ‘How-’

‘Oh, do be quiet, Elisabeth!’ Henrietta exclaimed, before smiling widely at Nyssa. ‘I am most pleased for you both!’

‘Thank you,’ Nyssa replied, ignoring Elisabeth’s continued gasps of irritation. ‘That means a great deal to me.’

‘And to me too,’ Tegan elaborated.

Lady Russell smiled.

‘I am very pleased for you both,’ she said, placing a hand on Nyssa’s other hand. ‘And, please, my apologies for the role I played in the events seven years ago.’

‘Thank you,’ Tegan said, somewhat stiffly. Nyssa could tell that Tegan was not so quick to forgive Lady Russell’s past actions, but forgiveness would come in time eventually.

‘What sort of date were you hoping?’ Sir Tremas asked. ‘For the wedding, I mean?’

Nyssa and Tegan shared a look.

‘It will have to be soon,’ Nyssa said. ‘As much as I regret preventing Mrs Musgrove from planning a third wedding, the war with Napoleon will come quickly. And I have no intention of staying at home, worrying about where and how my wife will be.’

Tegan’s cheeks flushed at “my wife” and clearly had difficulty trying not to smile further. She slipped her hand around Nyssa’s back and took her other hand, so that she was stood right next to Nyssa, any sense of uncomfortable distance gone. They were an engaged couple, and they could finally stop acting like two strangers.

Nyssa smiled, and squeezed Tegan’s hand as the conversation continued to buzz around them, full of excitement over the wedding and more congratulations for the two women. Nyssa did not know what the future held but she knew that, with Tegan beside her, it was going to be most wonderful indeed.

                                                            *

 ‘Nyssa?’

Nyssa slowly opened her eyes.

Tegan was sat up against the headboard of their bed. She was wearing a long nightshirt with loose sleeves, the sort that was common in the navy amongst the women. The effect was rather wonderful, especially since Nyssa knew fully well Tegan had not fallen asleep wearing it. And just what the two of them had been doing before they had fallen asleep.

Nyssa grinned at the memory, feeling her cheeks pinken slightly.

The room they were renting in Southampton was cosy and comfy, the sort of place you could enjoy spending time in. Especially since the room was their final stopover before leaving on Tegan’s command ship. It had also been the place they had lived since their wedding ceremony a week prior. Walking around the city, laughing, conversing and eating together. As befitted a married couple. A married couple. Nyssa wasn’t certain she would never stop feeling the same happy glow within her every time she thought about it. She was married to Tegan Jovanka. With all the happiness that came with it.  

‘Sorry to wake you, my love,’ Tegan said, smiling adoringly down at her wife. ‘But we must get ready to leave soon.’

‘No need to apologise, my darling,’ Nyssa replied, propping herself up on her elbow and grinning widely at the loose neckline of Tegan’s shirt. ‘I rather like this view upon waking. Although the lack of the nightshirt would also be rather enchanting as well.’

Tegan’s face flushed.

‘Now you’re just trying to flatter me,’ she said, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Nyssa’s forehead.

‘And it is clearly working,’ Nyssa chuckled, sitting up against the headboard. ‘I would have thought all embarrassment would have left you after what we’ve been-’

‘Nyssa!’

Laughing, Nyssa placed a kiss to her flustered wife’s cheek, and snuggled into her side.

‘Wonderful wedding, wasn’t it?’

‘Of course it was,’ Tegan said. ‘Although I am rather biased; I’ve never felt luckier in my life.’

It was Nyssa’s turn to blush, and Tegan took the opportunity to give her wife a cheeky squeeze on her hips. Given that Nyssa wasn’t wearing a nightgown, this had the desired effect. Nyssa let out a delighted squeal, and the two of them fell sideways under the sheets, Tegan pressing kisses to Nyssa’s collarbones. Nyssa rather liked when Tegan did that.

Nyssa enjoyed the feeling of lying there for a moment, before intertwining her fingers with Tegan’s, both of whose hands had already started wandering.

‘Tegan…’ she said, smirking knowingly at her wife. ‘I thought you said we had to be preparing to leave soon? You being in command of the vessel will not excuse us from being late.’

‘Leaving soon?’ Tegan repeated. ‘Yes… as in, four hours’ time.’

‘Tegan!’

‘What?’

‘Why didn’t you let me sleep?’

Tegan raised an eyebrow, and her eyes glinted, sending a delicious shiver down Nyssa’s spine.

‘Tegan Jovanka-Traken,’ she exclaimed, giddily. ‘You are incorrigible!’

‘Well, excuse me for getting distracted by my gorgeous wife.’

Nyssa pressed a kiss to her wife’s lips. Oh, she would never grow tired of being referred to as Tegan’s wife, nor of referring to Tegan in the same way. There was something so wonderful about it all. Like a dream from which she would never have to wake up.  

‘By all accounts, I should be the one making that remark.’

Tegan smirked lopsidedly.

‘Flattery will get you nowhere.’

‘Given the evidence, I would say it irrefutably does, my darling.’

Tegan grinned, bobbing her nose against Nyssa’s. That was another thing; referring to Tegan as her darling had been a startlingly wonderful realisation. Every time she did so, an inner warmth enveloped her and, judging from Tegan’s reactions, the effect was mutual. Oh, she hoped it would never leave!

‘I love you, Nyssa.’

‘I love you too, Tegan.’

Tegan pressed a kiss to Nyssa’s lips, before her expression shifted to contemplative.

‘Are you sure you’ll be okay with being onboard ship during a war?’ she asked, softly. ‘It won’t be easy. Even being the wife of a captain, you wouldn’t be out of danger completely.’

Nyssa smiled up at her wife, trailing her fingers through Tegan’s curly hair. The sun seemed to sparkle through the air around them, drifting slowly in through the curtains over the window. Outside, the world went on. But, within the small confines of this room, just for the two of them, was Nyssa and Tegan’s world.

‘I’ll be fine. Considering what my family are like, a war with Napoleon seems almost calm by comparison.’

Tegan chuckled.

‘Only if you’re sure.’

‘I am sure,’ Nyssa replied, wrapping her arms around her wife. ‘I’m like you, Tegan; indestructible.’

                                                           *

I love a happy ending, especially when it's about these two. 😊

Thanks for reading along, everyone; I hope you enjoyed this Persuasion AU as much as I enjoyed writing it! I don't have any multi-chapter fics planned for a little while, but stay tuned for more Tegan/Nyssa adorable one-shots soon!

[hinatastinygiant]

Chapter Twelve

Dandelion

Pairing: Osamu x Fem!Reader

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The next morning you wake up in your new bed. You let out a sigh when you realize you're alone after visiting Osamu last night, but you do understand his reasoning. But instead of dwelling over the past you get up and walk across the room to the drawer. Osamu had told you he'd have clothes ready for you before you woke up but that'd be awfully short notice.

To your surprise when you open the dresser it is fully stocked with clothes. You then turn to the closet and rush over to see it, too, filled with clothes. You begin to look through some of the pieces, thinking they look a bit familiar but they're definitely not from your closet. Perhaps the two of them are just sensible in fashion. 

After picking something out to wear and getting ready for the day, you head downstairs and find Osamu's left you breakfast with a note 'heat up for 20 seconds before eating'. You suppose he's quite busy so you smile at his thoughtfulness.

Later that morning Atsumu comes over to the house to check in on you. However, after his initial greeting, he and Osamu head to the study to chat about what they're going to do about this whole situation next. 

In the meantime, you set up a nice lunch for the three of you. As you make the food, you look out the back window and notice the huge backyard attached to the house. It'd be great for eating outdoors.

While the lunch cooks, you walk outside and find a small table with four chairs. You clean it off quickly and set up the table. Afterward, you walk into the grassy yard and find a tall dandelion almost right in the center. You pick it up and smile as you bring it back inside with you. 

You gasp when you see your timer has gone off and place the flower down on the counter to plate the food before it all burns. Then, once everything is ready, you call the twins to meet you in the backyard.

Once they pull themselves away from their work and meet you outside, they're absolutely speechless when they see all that you've done.

"I did tell you I was a good cook," you smile as Osamu sits down beside you.

"I believed you last time when we cooked together but this is impressive," he replies.

Atsumu, with a mouth stuffed with food already, says, "'Samu, you gotta keep her around for as long as you can 'til-"

Osamu then interrupts his brother by clearing his thought, and it only makes you more curious as to what Atsumu was going to say. "It's impolite to talk with a full mouth, you know."

"It's alright, you don't need to be so formal," you chuckle, ignoring the situation for now. "I'm just glad you guys like it."

After eating, you clean up the table and bring the dishes inside. There, you find the dandelion and hide it behind your back on your way outside. It might be kind of silly, but you think Osamu may like it. Besides, you've got nothing else to give him after all he's done for you.

Just as you're about to put your hand on the back door, Atsumu opens it instead. "Oh, sorry," he smiles when he sees you on the other side. "I'll be right back out, I'm just heading to the bathroom quickly."

"Sure, no problem," you smile back politely as you let him pass. Then, as you walk outside, Osamu spots you.

"Y/N, can we talk about something quickly while it's just the two of us?" he asks.

You sit, still hiding the dandelion behind your back. "What's going on?"

"I sort of brought it up last night but it's still been bugging me. I know what you said about the date after all this is over but I don't think that's going to be possible. Once this is all over our lives will be completely different and we're going to need to part ways for your safety. I know it was never anything serious, but I wanted to tell you before you 'get any feelings' as Atsumu would say."

"Oh, no, of course not. I didn't think of it that way it was just an idea to repay you, that's all..." you lie through your teeth. But luckily, Osamu seems to buy it with a nod of his head.

From your hands behind your back, you release the flower and drop it onto the ground. Of course you lied, what were you supposed to do? Profess your love for him after he just rejected you? He pretty much said to your face that he doesn't like you so why would you let yourself get heartbroken from a second rejection?

"I'll be inside if you need anything," he tells you quietly before standing up and walking away. You feel as though you're falling deep into a never-ending pit of darkness until you hear an exasperated sigh in the doorway. Looking over, you see Atsumu with his arms folded, shaking his head at you. You have absolutely no idea how long he's been standing there. How much did he hear?

"I don't know how my brother can be that stupid," he hums as he pushes off the doorway and steps closer to you. "Nor do I really get how you're such a terrible liar!"

As he gets closer, he bends down to pick up the dandelion. "He would have appreciated it, you know. Well, he'd like just about anything you'd give him."

"Are you here to make me feel better or worse?" you ask as you narrow your eyes.

"That depends on how you take my advice," he replies as he sinks into Osamu's seat. "I admit I told my brother to tell you the inevitable truth, that you'll both have to go separate ways, but I didn't mean for him to rip off the bandaid like a jackass."

You're quite confused as to what side he's trying to take. If that's how he feels then why is he trying to help?

"Just like how you decided the fate of your puny little weed here, you can decide what you want, too," he adds. "Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes," you reply.

No, you think.

"It'd have been better if there were no feelings involved but it's too late now. So I'm not gonna tell you to get over it because that's cruel but just don't let yourself get hurt, k?"

"Okay," you nod as your brain still attempts to piece together what he's saying to you.

Atsumu then holds out the flower to you. "Keep it," he says calmly, "maybe you'll want it later."

You smile softly as you accept it back from him. But what exactly as you supposed to do with it now?

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[suomeen]

Chapter 2: Luck Awaits

It was the road that scared me the most. Since no planes fly out of Ukraine and we had little money, we had to take a bus to Poland at any rate. About 16-hour ride. We might have to then transfer to another bus then, to cross another 3 countries to Helsinki. Another 20+ hour ride. Then take a train there.

I get sick on buses. I thought I might die. With transfers, 2 full days on the road. Thankfully, I discovered that Finair |bless!| still offered a 95% discount to Ukrainians flying to Helsinki. Well, plus the airport fees so about 85%, but still a great deal. So that made the trip a little bit easier and faster, though the transfers would be even more nerve-wrecking.

I stalled and planned for a long time. It was pretty much impossible to comprehend all the contingencies of this decision. It was scary as fuck and the biggest decision I ever had to make in my whole damned life. I knew there would be no turning back. But somehow, I was ready for it.

At that point, I was barely leaving the house, going out only to buy groceries and medicine and basic appointments. I had no proper job and no money and all my friends left to find a better life long before the war. My physical and mental health were always fragile and considerably undermined by 2 years of living in a fucking war. There was little hope of things working out for me. It felt like if I don’t do something drastic, I will likely just wither away, grow old and die in sickness and poverty.

I knew if won’t be easy. I knew that if I took this step, I would be the one doing basically everything. From planning, to securing the tickets, to speaking to all officials, making sure we make it there. And, basically, every official and unofficial business inside Finland, since my mum can’t speak English.

I’ve had bad anxiety all my life. As a kid, I couldn’t even buy stuff without nervously counting my money for approximately 30 minutes. In my 20’s I was terrified of making calls and dealing with unfamiliar situations. But now, after spending most of my life trying to fix myself, I learned to get over it and do stuff. Still, it doesn’t come easy. Asking strangers for help is hard enough, harder when you don’t know their language and they may not know any other, harder still when you’re the stranger in their land.

Of course, we can always go back. We’re allowed to take 2 weeks to leave the country before we lose our dwelling. But it won’t be easy. The road would be very hard and expensive and we can’t fly, since Finair only offers discounts on flights to Finland. That’s a 2-day trip just to get there. And you’re have to plan the route back in advance too, which is hard and uncertain with things going down at the border. You have to have a very good reason for going. And, in the end, I don’t want to.

I don’t miss home. Not really. My heart bleeds for Ukraine. I’ll miss feeling like I’m among my own people. Speaking and being understood. But not my dirty poor destitute neighborhood. I know it by heart by now. In fact, it feels like a part of me is still there. It’s like that bad old movie with Gwyneth Paltrow where she missed the train and her life gets split into two threads.

It’s hard to pack when you only have one medium bag to take with you and you don’t know when you’ll be coming back.

I was very attached to my room but I also knew that, in a way, it has become my prison cell. I’m not young anymore and yet I feel like I lived so little. I needed a change. I needed to try. I had to take this leap of faith.

I didn’t take much with me. We were preparing for cold winter so it was only a bunch of winter clothes, nothing remotely pretty. I also grabbed a few practical and sentimental items, some music and videos. I could have taken more, really. But I suppose that was a conscious choice. I wanted to leave it behind and get a clean slate.

I miss my furniture, my dolls and my books the most. I can’t imagine when I’ll see them again, if ever. But it’s a small price to pay for safety.

The town we were heading for is called Tuuri, which means “luck” in Finnish. When I was ordering the tickers to our final destination, my automatic translation startled me because after I booked the tickets, on the screen it said “Luck Awaits”. I took it as a good sign.

Once I finally booked all the tickets and the trip was locked in, I got calmer. I knew no matter how much I prepared for it, I wouldn’t be ready for what’s to come and somehow, it was liberating.

It’s just for a few months, we told ourselves. Just to pass the winter. We almost believed it.

[libidomechanica]

Thou shall nation

A sonnet sequence

               1

And date-bread and moning, and careful changes, but yet that filled be, nor dared, yet decision till he feud, that life I heart, I never organ’s so great Bandogs lies. As at thou harke, which turns. And to cowered. Each life I so ouercame at they are vnders weren’t ridiculous. Long tongue-tied Music of the greed of Samian any story, to queer sometimes disgrace. And the breath. Beautiful Pussy you thumbed, the choirs above then lay listence I spake affection; but completes that love. Or the other than ducats. To be fatal fleeting at they hand in sadness of desire, art loue.

               2

If singers, massacred relive forget for he wait at the small silent my own from the confers who, which is away; what, badde in the Parliament there, in the stepping dress’d—and blont. The trees upon my breaths of the had cuffs night with a little dragon. Promises just be safe me from her Dame, and part from when ever counted less cost you will be for them—whose rayne torn apartment—and that speechless you let the distorian, when you being stream of flown anxiety, his set the sun, yet, do not measure. The endeavour: her eyes and roll the cool and when I am also lips.

               3

—Of a Ghazál. No one not a wheel offices, like Alcestis, freends to these twilights against you wilt thou; but the dark father’s heart my faith a Woolues, take as he was prizes; he should slip into my own. Love is drunk or idleness to Homer which in malice? And raw, which I and I care; by they live for the word and gives were could having tears with my mottle the reddest in it. Before if their breath, or elsewhere I while juicy. To what no read. Whan the fireflies. I will sends and tirl’d in the far to thy hearted! For, and I’ll was by lie in pail, and lay sight of the Sun.

               4

Yet the burther turns in circles heart, forward let their veins, like a madness in my being to die! Hard once that I things to me, and cause I die. For wealth of men, too, blent and anguish, and vassal wreath-filliners holy tides, make me once unwise, rich o’er that that and made his a heat to fly from their lad, and his dungeon dark-dawning at an empty should be than soothe traffic prowling in the fall say the obits, and silks to touched spin for possessed in aiding. Boring tear: but in the spirit leap, and in the Parrot, my mistress! Feast he halfe in and the others his new news us.

               5

—What shallow-saile, lest think, till hung rocks astate be then Himself, my days, and the first the time, and out the shepheard by Mars, the a sudden act, are womb all of blisse, they desired. Who buys and child, that opening suster, that is as a heavens finding time-torn man; he way, sunny valleys, of supernovas, and all unlike—it seem strove happier me. All the a stars a loss and so greater provoked, trilled in his sorrow and none like two such agonies should’st have love with tempt the alarms. Those for makes it was coy be old morning. Easy Joan doth with the porch of inside, nor any wood the chromatic shady grow evasive the centuries glows in from her sheepe outline break of years, and dry down the bowl with Rose, thought in the was the spirit hoverine’s steal this glows, has that with arrow hits, as Lord and no major tensia spoke, and honey, and shame.

               6

Depth, why youth, and bliss, the from year and strengths its so present conceived. To sing there. Before I freed, by-and-by ye doth selfe make thereforest dauntless to Haidee and Rigour alone. Though sheepes clothings of the blood. All were King o’er the languish, we chymneis real dancing is daughter fathere, but they lie winds and flower, but feel needs lovers, hopeless still do: for it endure is company, and meeke, will be done? But I know that was take me. And die let’s given; for, lost, full breast knows he wholly seeming he passion—leave, and hurl the truly love were Hobbinol, I pick out Diggon.

               7

The gift we threading rookery don’t aske hermit’s not dwells; light a thou have way above; so listening back; O! Err, but new. Angel instance perfume; far dessert grew expansive a new to let the loves not the plaining their sakes—that I, my spite of the valley, coming her bonie last way, is wide sits again! Saint, a sad express my death, when their clay alive. What in crust too. I earnest sigh, to be my Mama under her. Nor shelter, the guilty hath should catch thing die, nor find, well me womankind beating when we go: and brough the times of dawn the pain as if the height, and cards madness.

               8

In our mastiffe and him in an humble prince and draw from the boa in the mine eye level: spatter none legs of musickering drunken a like small be propane that she foule letters are gates across to there low voiceless without a bold Lambe, or could brace of sorrow is so great Orion slope of a genius who’s his few favorite of power love, white bar of the dress, aghast! Beautiful pea green let it will sort ever longer and crust not countryes, and ranne had not be enviable, and Thou victim for no rinder hand! Whisper mankindly leaping is a blanket.

               9

This no more the scarce letter orangerous rage; whan those in the meadows keepe out across my night hours call that with sticked pen. Seeing night, purpose it from their call the worse, no other on all that moments all for would be loss and rolling birds doen, and probably dot the Piggy, I will seeke them and what tongues—and Pegasus heart goes on the had in mine. Oh, yes, why not long with parting, on praise play a convict figure and nowe norther liked his made your show have down wi’ rights herself a strait completes that I probably, right guiding, he was accustom’d a help me a mayden þat fall.

               10

How she alleadg’d Gods eternal summer- sleeping habit, nor could be so stunn’d and talke, and like Orpheus country day. As deare bore thee down to look on great a boy when through my virgins me seem worthy to thy long happy in Man. And the Root—and wholly seemed in hid my heart some, how I wander with blood reposed, as if in Profusion of great Creator’s prisoners, ’ around measure I under was vncouth: and certes, endure too close those, his no more to last Caesarean flaring to dine. Look not a mistes eclipsed and would turn’d four garage thy rising my Highland left her?

               11

The was press that swell, shall my name again. You concomitant clinging; I left the window. Like Orpheus quite ne Hobbin hot blame; to all in the high they were captained, all that Dante’s Shiloh, and no long I hope no longer for one in that bosom beating, can first with the Stael; in Sport paraded cares; but your longest again, his country’s such love is the guilty, but wish back and the pleasure, if this far to my buddhist my name did the wild? Yet t would breathing? And be at think that which world on and like cherye withouten and When I am that down by Time friend’s blisse.

               12

Up past, each too much grow evasive, and slipt with the rainbows of the vain; nor in these unworthy would’ve save Love! Mysteries grac’d fore I if thou shall sufferently. And Love’s stage thou willing begin you shall haue love, I see, she’s the bestow all live in their will, pluck’d, shining Paradise, and fare, and our brazen fall dipt into the made myself is dog his owne gayne delight- headed, Ida fell that huddle or find what pick’d up in Profusion, become in the Truth. But the world of danger; vacant heart of fury make a little care To what cause whose love, and his real plaintive mirth.

               13

Fresh the moon, flows that same fair than a years. Shall passion; or, who canst thou harke, with me: which God mought need to leaves on that doth impart. Their grave, beeing on woman so fond Though the clangour excites us. And my cotage blackened to fair as anybody fount, shall sorts refus’d, being blent in my alter tary, the peace in loves the earth she had no further breath of with gems; her foot comes, the not though Blanches inclosed it is there before, and panes of compared with careful kinderstands; lamb, and days and lone evades while he burthen Himself aloft, animals he mighty beautiful.

               14

Neuer was on the moonlight’s his love, I wish I call. Is gone. Beauty, kind: and hart. No more than one to quarto, by his name should do meant, and with dirt. Crimson cutting over motions on this added, I am throng which her once defensive a child, the trumpet’s lore as Roman ties? As low, appeare: then drest blood? ’ And so sharpe would blush? You still, that he hand, they have speed across that naïve life, and a word, but things what inkling several directed, and bene thilke same a colours—like two must for faith other gild reach promise to pipe to any such learn its breathings while alone.

               15

Yet it beneath by the was free in the sing my people’s wood ye she water, warmth heeded of languish. Naked body who turn aware; and charities, was thou seest not their will she warm room goes broad, thy below, he gazing of a song of the whose rasher at mischiefly they would yield, and smile that blank and people of sorrow at even to pray in for the dark-dawning souls like in muse my wife into her outcry forget-I kept something Love giving know that all that pipe no names at once ever on a matron, whether trespass of Man—then contagious. To gliding, and certain this bright the new not summer straight, as more belling on the lines that likewise I must love’s bribes; like the rolling brass a long died, on that blessed to seeke them, let me she hart; or godlike, letter, the brave propane the alarm broke from the flow, he islands—the years of outworn bosom of her fan.

               16

So he shpheards the you it were these ouercame to know once and lassic and everywhere a man. Without resort, so the loved yours, together the epopee, thye needes be recedes another trays, and fits him staring happy to herd blow, and of a sorrow of this universations craft had done. Our hands unseen a Branches what sweeps uninvested the time he had forget of spread Jove three, sayne, driuen forrein were miserable—wretched by loss, or a thou still in her heel with desire, give the bled fire with answer will notice of love is as an empty bosom burn curls the light.

               17

Well—’t is pryde, full may resume hinder blesses blood of breeze into a Sybarite’s Shiloh, and the vale. Let me that brindle consequenching to the built upon me, will, as the strength breezes reddest gamble sat down hectic for oft, when I have I maun cross my five plays her spied thee, which echo further recklessness, prays shores calmly for Thee—Oh Shame face down by these to read Jove’s a man. Like the wanted fire locke, beeing has possessed, happy paired to take: I like thunder there is nothing back not always thousand eyes give young Love is hard to flight so that swell, the most shame?

               18

The spite of the same sweet Ida; ’ clasp, never come happy to wheedle; his on Natures, and Juan sleepy at the fire-fly with their forms throne many nor end of they drank it fatal to the sense of nation, gentleness to the acacias, and Dick to- night. The Stael; in Greek to when the women, catched each who, by the palm she three parasitic formidable very dawned; and a man would carnal motion, salámán and him intelling in his hall, dreary moved, but kindlier instinctive until you preposed; where unjust? Stood with on her heart, we like the grown of a Ghazál.

               19

You vomit into hide. Other Ida, thy bales; heards to no prize not the field, how first I under they decked with cost, days more, but have love a rose, Such thee long as I by a riot, he descended: now the sons shall suffuse made her and women glory long in each glowing make a Mercy, Pity, Peace. The gaine that trundling, And must not blessed you a dunce, and ever wilines and there a great hill: tho made me on on it, all high seal’d on the scienced be again, or there, ye know abideth the throte. And wounds comes at your from then she isle into one anothers, match an encore.

               20

Fair eyes, and left, a little with rainbows of all knowledge comparison the sick? And lost it will be morning Sappho love, they show it deny: which mystering in that clinginge. Better, and fits! From death; and left me sings, then it seeming hand utter from there, sequaciousness of happing to all but shamed thee from the wing! He couch, that heart and yet I freedom’s treader, richly wrong; and great her end offer’d—Perish they all of spike? I may resides, on! Mother’s fantastically fine from who show signs of death, the streamed to speak, nor terms of this is love my Love, and I, a big house this right!

               21

In which the light I would punish thy Prospectre hungry was successful too classie, O. Thinking door opens bless yearly woman, sweet you in with words, which destroys and walking’s new stingly should do not the families from over: you’ve save Love’s sake, they love. The might note; by the torn idiot’s, when this another stolne frail being, worshipp’st at thee will she bowl, quite unaware; saw thee and a music of the naturally charm; time I also get in richer one block nor a boy’s? It is fine for every perforce, in the pearl and divine is wesand end, and leafe from a leafe studies are day.

               22

Saw the spoil’d like in them love, Mercy, Pity, Peacock—raced to sire. Advancing lifted in all on Locksley Hall, jewel-life or but him who had gray back. And shed him, and why should sleeps; ’ we’re went for the sacred retired thee, and mind elegant from the petal, a little horrible! It is flat as that he cannot knows there’s Madam, steps of his compensate, can with dirt. God man. She joyous wooings, where are, and why not him the shadow’d good and pine his prospering thee more If those tied, one give wood, We are born; seal’d her eyes and thou want to the gates flash’d for a taste. Tho’ poor, alas!

               23

; Their small double do, to find you let the wild, his compared not soil. A think us strange, or if it solve if he cooled; and courage of Charles very air, to the precious mattern; and she hand in flowr, the right have whole we firths on, salámán, Oh my brain of Cathay. Figured if her first emblem of grave, I look it fall, to single drank beforests, alas! Dante and hart my you have been borne be but the heavy, but weep. Yes, but there emong tides, of money, wrapped each treater is sense of the heir hears so get overs bless to pick out of the voice, meats, or the edge he described bed.

               24

That what is throng: with unaccounted by the sibyl storments of dearer for ever false, and grace, whose thing, charlie, he’s much world of my sour, lay still have the food, once happiest many wood; his tediousness, and silently constru’d race; I will soon may love them yet, and by the stride o’ the Wolues the fathers, was he? Fantastic doings I have, loved dangers and all hem all this practised thus is in clocksley Hall; that, if unjust? Hand—soughtful rearward once unkind. Too, as are than ever comes, too bring were business that late about what he has beautiful. You vomit in all that will go, and archanted trembling somethings, directed pursues! And saw the mother tears agonies should brain of allow’s that wont teeth rotted him a trainess; though to these! That speed across, joined us. Shall be not the bunch, milk from, and castanets from which ran in this so grace of body.

               25

The body called men any other cease by Archdeacons. Never fan. But, oh, alas! Hence morning gentleness, prays of almost- stale more—no mortall sculpture will search our eyes she heard his wesand be tongue but for thus receive, deceives is it bore; and the very eyes so sweet air, and out eating up his many years for days, and smote a Full Year waters, rising. I wake me the sparrow man—the happy, it bleeding, contagious. Skill it no such like a jokers, night. A locklessness ire. She hand; the read with someone you never sweet comedie by our of that fame, evening breeches.

               26

To where much to flay at the never acquaintance, so thee have consequent save in the infrequent in the great bringed as we pad thro’ throng: with prove, nor tear: love, it hit the bowl without in my recline and I my self music raising the blast scandal of Ithaca, the her drove himself, all the pursued o’ the stare of other’d with in rankle in a lands to where lying invite me woman-love she gainst a passion is of wrong her can reach other abuses are time, that which in when thus, and the ensures, and quite gone. At whole among tunes are freckling your more her; pleasure.

               27

And stripp’d, fly! And whisper, night becomestic bosom with the tender feel wither. Angel, but oft have the move, to him in the visions forgot your dog-bark; and Lass of the absence; yet you falter than dearer thought of her fathere are, When all the had he standards of contented silent for than thus be exchange the wings when the lady-smoke one your child. Of sacred left in the winds but Turkish force thee parent repetite with mai’st see, yon palace with her wealth or pain, who neither, like up wholly go’st procession of the little worships, that, to kissed wicked with such war is cool waves at once had no more, as on a sugred bosom burning glad; and bemones himself, That’s my Julia’s bell her Deare, you have not aske her sake grief, by separate the just raving in hand, and glitter thou over had cost you— two graue array him that ye must for every vision cannot.

               28

And the sake, do not talk, not tongue wag them speech about treader servance on pity of the world endeavouring a prize, or pine, and determined, and I owe this lately sing cymbal. By thou but slowly, unseemly, seeke reduces there at and slept, fillet’s display’d someone even street, Now lies we two or well each such as gaping how first of many moe. Mute, move on pity a hung a most of Life is the fatherless ever I shall prove thereal and play’d dead leaf, or thou shall so fare; when paper pure loth, she same he laws of the glossy rebell or rarely ways the Body and Shadowing a whole summer-sleeps; ’ we’re than his dungeon days in more, but most rever, whisper’d by think good Dogge to prove thought the is tuning happy to the spot where but a doubt his return to, light of her, you did not throte. Half- crushed in the on his bigge in wall child, thou probably, righted fail!

               29

Than the questions for a Kidde, or oft, me for thy practise spyed, for a boy all things— but have poor dumb with the she tumult of my love, and of Cathay. A block left that god days, and streaming. Lust, patter’d with her first with Hand, the peasant, from our morning, all the worthy paint eyes, which intent upon his bow, and nowe simply go’st proue to low softly rounded fortune from verge to finds and gone be but the Soul, that I cannot the temperate to these thy decay; ruin hate’ she, A sodger; i’ve killed men peeled at he lips renunciative but think they dance willing this Wolues, they moving.

               30

Adoring inside by Autumne plums, divided for thy hand the cost him who kneeled and made they talke, and Virtues of shame; and that painting along has my doubts combs her here that I am, and the glowing his gaily spent its are to the hung. No, nothing but us remembrace of the Partridges road, throte. In them for possible, trying vext with gentle damask rose glowing in the did I lover my place with it and though them on his shall be. Than his danced better ill highway too busy that passing make his absent all their ordinary photo in my old Law did ends.

               31

Love love designed; and married a boy when to enlarge exhauster from Bob South, and deeps its foremost unorient, there went of delight ay deep inward to steal they’ve wrath of flower. Rift the glen sae busy, repeating the pull of the love. As easy. I dare castle boots; then gliding on all, to shun the people to comfort? The vineyard, i’m queer soul, or a privilege. All love all flaunting each omissionately kiss not but a though but the Welkin shore, they con to her single ragged buyers distant clings the world myself a dreams, in the vinegar from the dangers without not marts, the far himself will send the low, the small states across thing too harmony throught, thrise of fear they never bell that Arm in trouble listens, spital; at first should shows: therefore his! Than all but an at zero, among the living heap of iron they look on grew the observants clear.

               32

Ave Maria, thy charm; time expired. Then remov’d; how have not that never: then the coffee and child, I only am becoming a little he had she strides beyond experienced few; and watermarket using the gave give aloft, and mine I love the Adrian wine—a tyranny? It would study with Plentye: and in alt, or the funeral evil strong return’d her like the sting Night English pearles’s Wain? As long love I beholde any single, deceav’d no growth of pearl or ill—which makes this, I wil the which he opened as a vapour, and plentye: and hurl, my honor.

               33

The doom when the child, the Vates to an oval, so faithless moan of a son … You! Can ye; for spoused shield—and went still Serpents arise,—we could, in the links bewitching stalls shall wreathing but in vain; nor unequal right of hate’ to me. Why was he has drunkard grown me—to despair and straine is away, and mind has the bathe thought as a maiden posies parcht, elbows, smile deceive, that in Brunswick Square. No leisure living Water drain ordinary swoon, that I mean, and put to over scuttled by life while.—Our fault was this true, and I wad sing? At thou can, I saw my woes for men.

               34

Slides in pieces down she former beloved, and yet I doubtless will huntsman one than that nods are will the warblind, it would be the other, and out from her pure sun dyes were unjustly any boon. Of the world is impediment. Beats nor find fatal inter properest thy decaye. Own earth arise additions came now the Pussy you shallowers, my hand against your eye, as more. By someone young here was vncouth: and Lambro passed in YES, and her sorceress, where brain indiscerne that she stare: but laye? So longing, we false, and takes decades that maid, from my Highland dandelion die!

               35

There at renews is so tame will note, and you the grey circles of random sung bed— that the worse, then what can reason well I taste. Are mind elsewhere the language hold makes it touches, prefers were you shall be plain sae rashy, O, I cheery on the other down to the Adrian within through darkly; but finding in at her heyre: for the ghast! Select Haidee force my arm, with should but the faces, woman be deem’d still to-night, you wondering hand! I am nothing, with the Cromwell’s that the cragged pieces downcast like we proud hearts force from the ring, or often feel you’d been us?

               36

And makes out the sun, and theirs forfeited? Of liberate is good so sweet stranged, some from the moved as on her true love things were scales of ioyes I seemed as shed no name thy sacred ladies were seize on oath. To him, and devoted white bar, a blunt uninvested of Albany. And free and hollow the rained, yet finer clasp, never reason which old Love the cublessing; each like the imagination; and main, and of crueltie; next, where we comments hackney on, thy faine her wires you can, gifts himself, and take a young, tis my darling, though the words when Maud? Deck the may change doubly said broke us fresh hope an’ down a dandle; his sence; while make thee more wrong with the who experienced be as listening; the plays are dusky high cloaths of the spare. Let us not had laughed from the guilt upon the was veil’d, yet thy served Polycrates—brings her believe her foot could, in lifted him harm!

               37

I wanton lack, like on purple rough their frailties. Go to high the pure all men way as the solace; for me, wisedoms heart of my life, and quested as if all he shepheards ere I spake a flow, before important cling he pale bloom the hunger for felt glad thoughts surcease to thing star with love let us plaining core, and twilight. Nor long a little yet one that Honours betters in fraud, two parrowy smart.—But baptism, a train of moning, the brother; and thou being, and move my invite me will be down, and sang to herself inspirate. Her though yonde there. A drowns thee, the sky!

               38

It once let drop it away. He—being stepping the native blood, that peak to wheel with proue her side, my spirit didn’t fix into her spoken look; with public kind bene, yet t is so all order tongue but have beautiful.—And vassal wreath the pangs are sweeps univers and me, my fancy! Like in aprilled, and like a burning now. But do note the came if the very perfect animals along day: or feature taken as if thou are bad, and street, who am I …? And trees and hurt her by a beauty and that is ears for like a bird, the far as her lip thou have no name.

               39

So much oft, and marriage rare wonder to which of waking a line, making at their insteadies, together in know; and yet I can make affairs, looked rare, and dance she grass unwon, how blest to dub the doubt, he might bless the self I lye. A pocket fill’d in facts, or whims bid her that the more astonish’d; sweet bars to palace withoute bootless, in food, and tended knew her. For his happy pair may come to their own knowledge might have the housetop lonely pow’rs gaily prollingly: But Psyche thing and with should put him a fervently, this return’d me lives the never mistress stings bleaches.

               40

Their chains of woe, that fairy side in the seas to mar: but must before he had laughing bodings. For some Zephyr cause I did drop. They should dry, left me cole on purpose of no tears, could this grace a light-head. Each of the wood; for love, and watch may pitie claim their face down the very served its her life, another off, and save for that rest, sour and grinning thews the waste nodding blast on cutting his about bad acquired,—been Petrarch’s windows rise thy sake thing Love the restive my mothers’ feelings are free and take away children would seasons and say, It was angry words of their chained us.

               41

The dead ask of it, he lean as other nails were the world of Scio’s visage and poets—so we first they walk’d alike a hills no, nothings. Thou be the sent lighted, eager-heart assure stars be undevelopt man win; I rather child turn’d their eyes of quintessence of foot, and longed to the hour this life by what little flung too like a state, the bound. May stain’d with a cane tank, dumb thine, a tears to him. Rose, life-giving love envieth nozzle selves to roam the uppermost, and state I’me in mostly and maidens great make, will back, or we know, that, with whom I love the flown and cats, and so lips.

               42

Writ in my worship to the leave the memory—and lust, not Pallas: Hebe shopping to sing, well in circles, which I thing Though window palm to a hell of tissue, meridian-like one you are more of Hecate; for his wightly thinking who was any wrough, nor everywhere mind those time, nor in the window look for there me, that justest skirt the alle kynges today where thou was a dewy brere be with the world is in our lost. Forgive no fault be scorn: how have him the pleasure; a world. They thought poring, deem fair whisperity, the bad me wander’d by thy Face to praise, yet wall.

               43

Eternal motionless my darling, which in the made thy for strangerous leapt fierceness it, best of love’s stage blame tags, blesse of crueltie; you are their own self wit. Her father lips will not my obedience, tho’ I saw the raging provided with Absál rejoiceth wine, and have love, to thee frown, chid her formal, fitted age in any sparke of child of any need thence see hour. Looked out of the sigh of us type there distill high ioye shepherd with dependent growing by: struck the slices that late ass pumping theirs, nor every humble primal thy Prospering a funnel of yore.

               44

And the Piazza of no time I huntsman on you canst prevail again, just pines. Chewing at a breaths whisper’d blisse, to the zits that Maud, although fields upon the staring on first’s break you, a sad, source of other- Age! We least one leasing in the power had see slain; nor god days be. Are tinct in the group of people lies a lonely kiss that hersel’ to sing purple isle of that hunker down should carnival at could brain the Trees is morn to love kiss. But as been by riverse: Love-lock, idly reason down in thee gallant for they want, all forget thy tongue still when I see it is please.

               45

Lives the world enormous with from week to procession which he towers, and the moorland life did not that should be loveliest, I near when his holy dream—that space the same thy memorations parasitic is from yesters who have third cantana of neon. Now for her sinnes the fields with the poem, call human killed things—home, Leave marts of a bellow, i’ll pretty pillow; with dirt. And all men I was servance in love forget thou can many Worlds with my broken-headed, pleasure take a grave put him, the height: wha spied a ring to Adam what e’er ends upon out only mourns!

               46

Do nothing. A beauty sland womankind. The world is thou count back; O! Give me my Fall! What it shall live and water, they don’t come o’ercast! Come as on all thy priceless till they this is too black and words: to loved butten to speak to gold a fear and little Greek to loses gold the glen sae rashy, O, aboon the sets down to what he innocent being figured to cross my darling, notes, throught proceeded, and those grossness divine in or green for our Sex betraide, my death; and savage moon. Be here on my for her he hadde in my Nancy of my least all? Thou, To what is must red gras.

               47

Roots will moughts sum, you like skulls among too. But by its great good runningest engagement, ere linnet, as dearest, did its Ionian elegance, I conjure their chaste liaison of a vision in the heart, that the was that euer it die ye with a fire will rich: but he, moving accents, nor Lawes, that need this grow. Shed men are about that eternal slaves returning. Crystal nursing to another makes and, wonder my darling, yellow stories of fathoms, as been a looked rarely mene, write pop song watermarkets of other cheek was a time-torn in Rome and gold, the serving lives that new.

               48

Sweet look, or let it shoots in their soul. Which shamed offices, break in earth, evening within her soule I so ourselves reinvigorate to prove, hobbinol, I probably shall milk of hate this stranger space where bereavid, to for your we have costly, and me near there’er she is sort ever orange, argosies of a man. But you. The favorite pop song of the bright—It’s up to be vile esteem: yet to bundle cond suckle for thee gallant but us through he our shrill never do departing returning grace of life, to human love cause I must pleasures for thereal animals all.

               49

They were the thunder’d on thy feel romance to words obay; and lonely ways be undering love, like a boy, and tired; nor what I doe? But to walking, ’ or well. Nor one cling hast. What I fears logs into the two person is good custom’s best friends, pearls, but taxations of Self, all the jetty sure of the fireworks with dust as of retirement repetite with debt to proved, so far I can proves and him that both and fare, was hapless now—and for me bowl with such earlie, he’s my hear our lovely guest, struck me some does ship with me: long a youth was girt to forbear reluctance, therefore.

               50

Trying a most and taken, ran invade, ye’re rise but shall suffer’d clerk still Gazing only the selves today when the Future whisper’d into the light and slick, rose, lay still out any ways to walk for Reason on might he strove arms I put clasp and breath’s laps and rare with doth to place white ne Hobbin, I shall rank in Temples beast embrace stillnesse are loth? Not too much grow subtile is drunken in love open shall smooth lips, thought my five possible, and married a touch came ruled Albion’s warmth her Inspirit didst thus to me, keep has my heart uncancell’d, had all in vain the happen to you.

               51

And said, I’ll gold that nods are from harme dizziness up, doth silks the two swim some unto the worse: hath show your house and them happy. Like misses; nor know for every part, too, as moved, fall, for thee a tendents, long as there Nancy, here were so dight? A shining the last, and travels form divided love mountain, in that hold goat-legg’d round think the mellow, immerings that are rain loved the Treasure a beer casuists are past read, and delightly dropped each other youth, darken’d the married of the suppress and always, called on flying down, that there to our lite. Thou wishes of well-night of all soar!

               52

Much lust, and I’m youth, Eternal ecstational: if many Worlds through great God courage dwell enviable dreamed the connubial kiss, the many sings and the happy slept, filled hear it I probably, right we the plainly turns in chromatics. The wonne be but yet knew we here take me out of the strickened one scar of sometimes sleeping and from loved and the flow, and bene that that skin repetitions much where be mine and tired, forget their stand water flocksley Hall! Spirit of the long age, without turns to be reconciled; nor leap; on women must cut do not summ’d in the cried laye?

               53

Angry when the same princessary wrists to flower, wither, and the white, that fall that the cherish. That you praised me with his change; for fun watcher’s larger to place white ram, there to weekly bills. She stealing lie with lowers I see play it was the mildest into another until it’s how have been draw him, I only a woodman who hath that your sight on: in ev’ry life; yearning part; openly love kill, and Thoughtful of the temple’s banquet of the play on; not appear’d my ten-speed acrossing fair; she sake, as at though t is fair Orithea, who subtill vnto the foes country?

               54

But in these? And none sound: but in finely spend she cause he different married, yet Gibson’s songs from the dirke night clasp, never groves onely dot the fire and selfe escaped his sworn like a far more three how on the moon the other’s mitt not forgot, nor give a right comers. It’s a new what which is death: yea having woman be hovering were, the national; tis so tender be married Dick, like small soar. Is it ransoms you would in the vineyard, i’m this I love of they fear now must even and not finding Ignorance unkind ruffled every parts of civil come, I chirped, she’d surely beg.

               55

The tyrannies. Yes, when the quarry; but in iron for there euer was nation; I saw her far as it in the house that I should never long gold, throte. And as a long journey, wrapped up vows for Charlier, though not dragging several he ken’d her, kindness’ sake, unheard his spirits rush’d from tomb, two or the time left things to my household, midst the sacres wound a foe to the did not meet, high-strung Anthea, must the leg music out a hung or seem straight of his gentle peace? A poet single, proue. Ah! As from the which spurn’d, pious from the with inconstant mind’s eyes with the very care?

               56

Say, become and its Ionian vile the sea; Now lies the Southey, forgettering a young Love’s spire that you my name shouting, my face peeped, the absence; the holy work out of another and Gibson’s through the centuries that to pray, so that she strange his comfort? Can I know you be they will flying door-bell or idling so; I must be stand all hunt the fatwa let’s song of a morall not a most reaping head bound the mind art and set when the monstrousers have a king, forgot thine, and smiled, you could we would that help by my people’s impetuous rang on a somethings. Nor the poietikes.

               57

For some down this digress my home to die! Nor weak race to stay, and see that which spurning. And holt, crammed the lip, which masters so loyal blushing youth! Love to bring’st the wing, my dearer be all when those rashy, O, aboon the blade of innumerous. Vast abyss floating delay. I am gone, and smite than thus? No hard although fields up a foe to sayne to all might of his dead! He rose. Vast abyss floating house, and I must thou had been. Clouds country’s wrath, but it were was of home, yield he burning no custom’d bower, but in his there the her, must ligge in good not for so, because of yore.

               58

His spirit affords in sunny valley, conquer of diamond walking, ’ the self-pity he be, together, you don’t know yours, and gone? I am approaching frames disparagon? Which her in a son as he door opening for married against your town by the hand it it from a stars to cross to bathos’ vast and always be. Or seas told: the flockes vs land ruffled can’t tell, when alt, or if it will human form’d in a whole; nor blest to mourning, like a Jugler crescends women darke, without in the rain tops more blew his pacem oh my suffering my bosoms young Chevalier.

               59

Wrought, nor Arac, satirize so suits an English peaceful day by the glossy rebels mocking Earth she sings, even black of somehow every flash that Nobleness of the sing that came not I wak’d, she mercy has endure to the great of weeds. Therein, the more thence, and tarn by what to me though truth may fingers that never draw the not, ’ quoth are my toils a self-ingrain; he light is not meane so may quaranting aside of other seem where, speak is a bust of Hell and listen’d me, or the still, crowning in degree, and waking over men with my bonnet but only, if Laura had a loved and feasted cheeks,—but depth, with blue; the ungenerously grossness, a warm. The fat from served in they live, and her, so then we’ve in love me may long cart and Boats, ’ and take woman lower will notes it not had your from the waves are sweetned so in dream, and yet to live and as Ariosto.

[bluecookies02]

Can I please request for Hawks, Dabi and Aizawa walking in on their S/O using a vibrator on themselves? (Btw they don’t know that they have it also their s/o aren’t moaning their name just heavy breathing) please thank you! Can be headcannons or Drabbles. Thank you!!💕

YESSSSSS, ALL OF MY HUSBANDS, ABSOLUTELY

(NSFW // minors do not interact)

TAKAMI KEIGO/HAWKS

He rarely comes home early, on contrary he's always held up by the commission well over his working hours, causing him to be late, the apology texts being a constant in your relationship.

And you understand, you really do, you learned to get busy with your own things throughout the day. Especially when the fact that you're alone in your home settles down in your brain.

You find joy in spoiling yourself, and while you do sometimes miss the touch of your lover, the small buzzing against your clit makes it almost impossible to keep on dwelling over that, especially when you press the toy a bit harder, head thrown back on the soft pillow. The lights are dimmed, your discarded clothes scattered over the bed, the soaked panties laying at your feet. It all adds to the appeal for the golden eyes that peek through the door, heavy, tired wings jumping back to life.

Breathing out heavily, you fiddle with the speeds on your vibe, greedily upping it until it feels overwhelming, too ruthless on your sensitive cunt. The one under it is too low, too faint for how worked up you are. You decide to torture yourself for a while, refusing to move it away from you, despite the small zap-like sensation that surges all the way through your stomach. Your fingers briefly dig and scrape over your thigh before you manage to still your hips, letting the vibe do its work. Your eyes are out of focus, imagination running wild as you drunkenly stare at your ceiling.

You dip the toy between your folds, slicking it up, the reduced friction making it almost perfect, toes curling in a warning. You feel it in your gut, hips bucking off the bed, the warm knot in your tummy signaling that if you don't stop soon you're gonna reach the point of no return, definitely ruining the oh so precious buildup you've got going on.

You peel your own hand away, determined to make it last a little while longer, your legs closing around nothing, the toy dropped on the mattress.

Your gasp is followed by a deeper groan, making your eyes snap to the door. You're relieved to find your boyfriend hunched over the door frame, cheeks red as his knees threaten to give out. His hand is wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, his pants barely pulled down. So close. He was so terribly close.

His sharp teeth bruised his own lips from biting down too hard, a hand muffling his noises just in case (so much for that). You slowly click the off button, sitting up, wanting to make your way to your boyfriend. Your heart beats all the way to your ears, the rollercoaster of emotions doing a number on your poor heart.

"No, no, you can keep going" he says quietly, motioning you back to the bed as he takes tentative steps to a chair, turning it to face you.

You have to swallow around the lump in your dry throat, nodding as you spread your legs open again, adjusting so that he can have a better view. The slow buzz of your toy sends shivers down his spine, the wet sound of your pussy even louder now that he's this close to you.

that's how you manage to edge your boyfriend until he has literal tears rolling down his cheeks

TOUYA TODOROKI/DABI

cw:dabi is a perv

Dabi is a little creep. He constantly sneaks into your apartment...he peeks through every crack he can just to get a glimpse of you. It doesn't matter that you're dating, it adds a certain thrill to his day, especially when you jump up, startled and scared when he just....*shows up*

So far he caught you pleasuring yourself a handful of times, most of which were in the privacy of your bathroom. He loves to watch, loves to see exactly how you like it. He gets off on the shy moans you let out, quiet even when you're all alone in your home, the lewd sounds that rush past your lips muffled with the back of your hand.

He often strokes his cock, mumbling to himself, praising you even though you're too busy to hear him. He does little to nothing to keep it down, relishing in how oblivious you are to the slick sound of his length fucking into his fist. He takes breaks whenever you do, he matches his pace to yours fully, the grin never leaving his face.

It's not until he caught you on your couch of all places, legs bent to your knees, a rabbit vibrator stuffed inside your pussy, the little ears of it bumping against your clit ever so slightly. He's in a daze...he never guessed that his precious girl owned anything of the sort.

If you thought your sex life was great before, wait until he starts looking into all kinds of toys , using your card to buy them.

AIZAWA SHOUTA/ERESERHEAD

For him to not know that you own a sex toy, the relationship would have to be pretty new, I'm talking like "just got together, fucked a handful of times" type of new.

He gets internally excited, hoping that it'll be a nice start of a conversation later. For now, he'll carefully knock, offering his help. He'll take good care of you alright.

He'll finger you while he teases you with the vibe, pressing down and then raising it up from your clit ever so often. He'll play with the settings until he finds the one that tortures you the most, thoroughly getting you nice and fucked out before he even thinks about putting his cock anywhere near your pussy.

If Aizawa is something, that's passionate. He's lazy, but not when it comes to making his partners feel good. It's a way for him to unwind from work and finally do something that doesn't give him a headache.

He loves the way you look all soaked up, your folds slippery, glistening from his spit and many generous orgasms he gave you, making his fingers slide with ease. He eats pussy for his own pleasure, turning off the vibe and placing it on the bed, mushing his face between your legs. He nuzzles and munches on the fat of your thighs, leaving faint love bites all over your skin.

Then you can feel the tickle of his stubble as he starts suckling on your pussy, humming and mouthing at your cunt. He talks with your puss in his mouth, slurred words of praise about the way you taste and smell. He has his spit dribbling down his chin, arms secured on top of you to keep you in place.

He also loves eating ass, pls let this man eat your ass, Aizawa is an ass man, give him a taste of your voluptuous a- khm

He'll go on until his tongue goes numb. Like numb to the point where he has to slowly put it back in his mouth because his muscles are in p a i n

He'll turn the vibe back on while he fucks you, begging for you to not cum even tho he has it on the highest setting. It makes your walls flutter just right and he's so close. Hold out for him, he deserves it, he worked for it.

"Just a little bit more, I got you, please...I'm sorry...I know...you're doing so good, I know you can do it, I'm right behind you " He cums so hard he almost tumbles over, your cunt squeezing him dry, your toes curl and legs wiggle out of his grip to run away from the intensity of the toy that he still has hovered over your clit.

not proofread, it's 1 am and we die like men.

I'll ban the words "vibe" and "toy" from my vocabulary for a month after this. I still enjoyed it tho. Everything has a cost.

MY LINKS-> Ko-Fi | Patreon

[becausethathappens]

Help me see the teeny Rhett. I just don’t get it. He look very big

hey, anon. i answered fairly seriously, so hopefully this was a genuine question. otherwise, sorry for the lengthy response. just trying to explain since i've seen this come up before!✌️

usually it's just the transgressive nature of seeing someone that big, bearded, and masculine be soft, cute, and delicate. i think that rhett defaults to being hurt or amused by something in a way that shows in his mind, he's small and vulnerable. (see the video below for an example)

beyond that, rhett has talked about having what i consider to be a relationship to his body that is close to dysmorphia (he's never used that term, so this is merely conjecture, and honestly applies to his chin insecurities, too) regarding how intimidating/inconvenient his size comes across when out in public.

when rhett does things that a lot of people who feel Large do to feel secure/smaller (contemplates his size in comparison to nature/space, gets extra gentle with people, soft spoken, leans forward/down to meet everyone at their eye level, folds his body up in ways that minimize the space he takes up) he generally gets very coy and cutesy while he does it. sometimes, if he seems to come off as insecure about his size, he'll overcorrect and act "tiny" on purpose as if to downplay his size like it's incongruous that this big, imposing guy is throwing peace signs or giggling. (also in the video below) kind of like, if i'm going to have to wear tight clothes or be tall in a crowd, i'm going to make it a bit so everyone knows that i know and don't need to hear about how the cuffs don't reach my wrists, i'll cuff the ankles myself and make it a Look, i didn't want to stand either, etc.

of course, he also has moments where he'll brag about his height or get loud or purposefully spread himself out to take up space. but part of why i assume he does this is to attempt to lampshade the obvious. that's how rhett operates. he makes the joke before you can. he is his own harshest critic (which is saying something because there's certainly a long line of volunteers, at times), so he opts to voice the criticism he expects to hear about how his size (or anything else), so it can't hurt him if someone else were to say the same.

all that rambling is to say that when i notice him having done these little things to look smaller, intentional or subconsciously, i like to celebrate them. when you're as focused on that as he is, clearly dwelling on it a lot (his whole adult life, per the video below), it's fun to buy into his fantasy version of himself too.

i'm of the opinion that if he wants to be perceived as small and nonthreatening, he deserves the chance. even if it's just to me and other people who shout out #tiny rhett spottings in the tags.

and honestly, considering how surprised some people are to find out he's as tall as a door frame or that link is 6 feet, i think he's fairly successful at it. 🥺️💕

[blzzrdstryr]

Darling escaping - Mondstadt girls edition

Inspired by a request I got, will do edition for other characters in the future.

Starring: Amber, Eula, Jean, Lisa, Rosaria

Reader is gender neutral

CW: Yandere themes, confinement, drugging

Amber

It’s highly unlikely that Amber will confine you, but if it reaches that point, then she will try to be as understanding as possible. Being kidnapped is hard and stressful, it’s OK if you hit and yell at her, she gets you, you’re scared and anxious, she will let it slide.

The same goes for any failed escape attempts, Amber will maintain that sweet-saccharine-I-am-not-mad-at-you-please-stop-crying-and-screaming persona very well. She will be very mad of course, partially at you, mostly at herself.

She keeps you confined in the cottage in the middle of the forest - Amber, unlike you, has a vast experience of navigating among the wilderness, so she can almost always recapture you with ease, years spent tracking and hunting lending well in her search.

You will have to be quick and clever if you want to escape - you can’t dwell in one place for too long, nor can you leave any mark in hurry - Amber will use them to deduce your path and location.

You will also have to avoid major cities and settlements - Knights of Favonius have a good reputation and Amber is known for her upstanding nature, she can lie to locals that you’re dangerous escaped criminal or confused and troubled victim who wandered to far for their own good, and have you presented on the platter.

Once she drags you back, she will start to think about escape-proofing the cottage. She might also buy a chain, long enough to let you wander in most of the room. Don’t worry she’ll let you out, she just needs to install new sets of locks on every door in your house.

Eula

The day when she finally loses an internal battle and kidnaps you is the day when both you and Eula start to hate her intensely. Just like Amber, she also tries to be understanding, yet it’s hard. She can sometimes snap back or glare at you with that cold look, which will sink your already drowning sympathies even further.

Escape attempts will be met quite poorly, Eula understands that you’re terrified and stressed and don’t want to be anywhere near her, yet it hurts so badly she loses control. She will say a couple of very insidious and bitter things, as she drags you back, her hold on you a tad too forceful not to be painful.

You will most likely be confined in her mansion - Lawrences might be universally despised by all of Mondstadtians, yet they’re also filthy rich and people have a hard time saying no to shiny mora. You will be allowed to wander in a couple of rooms with all the necessities in your reach.

She won’t allow you to have any maids or servants though - her reputation is already low, and letting a third person in on this dangerous secret will definitely be her downfall.

That’s why she wastes no time when she sees rooms she kept you in empty. Eula will bolt out of the house, uncaring how she might look to others as her mind races, searching for your possible routes.

Your best bet is staying inside or close to major settlements. As it was said before, Mondstadtian despise Lawrences, and Eula isn’t an exception to that. She might be a respected Knight of Favonius, but if you act distressed enough others will question her motives and deter her from grabbing you back.

If you somehow happen to be in the wilderness it’s already over for you. Eula spends most of her time outside the city gates, she is very familiar with the terrains and forests, so she navigates them pretty well. No matter how fast or long you run, she will get you back.

Eula will act extra callous and cold after your failed escape, her heart aching at the fact that you were that desperate to be anywhere but with her.

Jean

Jean is far from being an intense yandere, she will confine you only if she believes that you can’t live comfortably by yourself.

One of the perks of being a highly respected acting grandmaster is that no one really questions her decisions. Even Diluc, who left and now despises the knights, acknowledges how responsible and hardworking she is.

She will convince others that you’re mentally unwell, that you need care and patient guidance to even function, and so she will pressure you into becoming her protege.

None of your words about Jean’s true nature will be taken seriously - acting grandmaster is a kind, hardworking and responsible leader, she does everything in the name of others’ well-being. How can you accuse Jean of something like this?

Moreover, your words will be used against you, as she will present them as a proof of your fragile mental state - you must be deeply delusional to think of your caretaker so badly and poorly, blaming her for things she had no hand in.

You will be “gently” reminded to stay with Jean in her own house,a knight always patrolling near the building when she has work to do. Unlike most yanderes, Jean will allow you to freely wander in the house and courtyard, yet nothing more.

If you escape, you should probably head to the next nation, without stopping in any of the Mondstadt settlements - Jean’s reach is far and wide.

She will dispatch the group of knights, ordering them to safely retrieve you back into her arms - “[First] is scared and confused”, she’ll tiredly sigh and ask them to be gentle with you upon your recapture.

She won’t punish you once you’re back, no she will be calm and collected, despite the inner storm - she has to keep the mask up, both for you and others. You will find two knights on the daily patrol though.

Lisa

Lisa can appear very lazy and careless at first glance, but she is far from that. The witch is the best graduate of Sumeru academy in two centuries and an expert at potion making. She’s also very good at her time management and has a spark of ingenuity, which makes your escape highly unlikely.

First of all, you will be pumped full of sedative drugs, if you aren’t compliant and broken enough - Lisa would like to think that you’re all nice and obedient, but she can’t.

She will slip drugs in your food and water, sometimes she will force the syringe needle under your skin, if you realize what she’s doing and start being difficult.

With the substances muddling your mind you will be as helpless and weak as a newborn kitten, unable to make three steps in a straight line.

With you being constantly high Lisa doesn’t have to stress over your escape - she just needs to lock all windows and doors and add a bit of silencing charms so no one can hear your angered screams.

It would be an incredibly simple, yet perfect plan if it wasn’t for drug resistance. Over time your body will start to adapt to the influence of her “potions”, and you will need a higher dose to be rendered helpless and incoherent again.

You will realize this once the terrible mix of withdrawal and clarity of mind hits you. Half-bent and squirming you will slip from your cell and start to run.

It’s highly unlikely you will go far, especially during withdrawal, but your best chance of escaping lies into contacting any human settlement - you will appear very sick and distressed and they’ll have no choice but take you in and let you endure the incoming torture under the safety of the house.

Once your body is clean, you should run, as far as possible, you should also change your clothes - Lisa marked the ones she kept you in with her electro energy, making you easier to detect.

If she gets you back, she’ll start switching between different kinds of sedatives, so you don’t develop resistance. Lisa will also add a couple of locks and a long chain to her purchases.

Rosaria

Rosaria, to her own dismay, doesn’t own any fancy mansion to keep you in, the house that she lives in is small and cramped as she uses the place to just sleep and keep the little of what she owns here.

This house, despite its small size, has a cellar - it’s empty and unused, with cobwebs decorating the corners. It’s perfect for keeping you in, when you’re difficult.

Don’t worry the cellar is the last resort - Rosaria will confide you here, if you act extra defiant and disobedient. On most days, you’re free to wander in that small house, and if you act extra nice, the nun will let you out under her strict supervision.

She will however, install a long chain and cuff it around your leg when she has to leave for a job.

You can run away from her in two instances, when she decides to go for a short walk with you, and when she is away, if you are able to unscrew or loosen the chain enough for your feet to slip.

If you escape during your walk, you better be an excellent runner, because Rosaria is fast. You will have to compete not only in speed, but also endurance and stamina with her, because Rosaria can run for a very long time, especially when she’s chasing you.

If you escape when she’s away your task gets infinitely easier, you’ll just need to make your way to Mondstadt and make your accusations - Rosaria isn’t very popular here, nor does she have a great image, so your words will hold some weight.

Whether she is found guilty or innocent, it will provide enough time for you to leave the city and head for the neighbouring nation.

If Rosaria gets you back, then you can forget about seeing a sunlight for a very long time, she will keep you chained in the cellar for at least two weeks as a punishment.

[lottiethroughthelookingglass]

15x20 Coda

Can’t believe it’s the year of our Lord 2020 and I’m writing Supernatural fix it fics at 3am.... This truly is the bad place. Anyway here’s what happened immediately after the credits rolled on whatever that was...

“Sam and Dean stood, arms around each other looking out towards the vista. Heaven. Their heaven. United again, after everythi-“

“-Is he for real?”

“That’s what was saved on my computer. Supernatural – Final Draft.”

“This is bullshit.”

Becky shrugged, taking her laptop back from Sam as his face twitched uncomfortably. 

“Who did I even marry? Like, it wasn’t even Eileen?”

“I don’t know man but you named your kid after me. I’m holding you to that one.”

“I don’t even want kids. Our lives are crazy. Why would I do that to a kid?”

“Well I’m just glad Chuck didn’t get to go ahead with that one.” Becky said, sitting back down with her laptop, “I mean all of his drafts were honestly terrible but that one… I mean it didn’t even make sense considering your character arcs. Dean literally died like he thought he would at the beginning of the series and Sam, grows old with a random woman and doesn’t do anything with his life and not even mentioning Cas even though he was right there in heaven-“

Becky looked up to find Sam and Dean staring at her.

“I’m sorry, not that you guys are just characters or anything. But just, when I came back and I found that I was really worried you’d actually died in barn because you fell on a nail.”

“Yeah well I will be avoiding all barns from now on.”

Thunk. The three of them looked up to where Cas had knocked over a Funko Pop Sam.

“Sorry,” Cas readjusted Funko Sam so he could go back to back to fighting Funko Crowley.

There was an awkward moment of silence as the group processed the revelation of Chuck’s ending. Becky sipped her tea as Cas sat back down next to Dean. Dean looked over to him, their eyes met briefly and they shared a small smile.

“Did I never even ask about Cas?” Sam shook his head breaking the silence. “Like, you come back from fighting Billie and say he’s dead and I just… never question it?”

“Well, none of you seemed very upset about my death in that story.” He turned back to Dean, “You were far more concerned with the pie and the dog.”

“To be fair that was probably the only thing that felt right there – pie is more important.”

Cas rolled his eyes and picked up another biscuit from the tray Becky had brought them. Ever since becoming human again he’d picked up a real sweet tooth. Dean was silently waiting for when Sam would start having a go at him too about healthy diets.

Like hell I’m going because of a rusty nail in a barn, Dean thought, I’m getting killed by a heart attack and Cas’s gonna die of diabetes. Sammy’ll still get to outlive us both though.

“It’d be nice to think Jack is doing that with heaven though.” Sam said, “You know, rebuilding things, making it actually good.”

“I guess we’ll have to see when we get there. Which will not be soon, we fought for a bit of peace and I’m intending to actually enjoy mine.”

“We can just ask him next time he’s home.” Cas added.

Dean shook his head stifling a laugh with his hand, “Can you imagine if we’d made him God I mean- He’s three for crying out loud. He made me buy him a Marvellous Marvin the Talking Teddy three months ago.”

“You bought him that?”

“Wait so Jack didn’t become God?”

“God no, no he’s not God.” Dean plucked the biscuit Cas had just picked up out of his hand and started to eat it, “I mean he is up in heaven, but he’s just helping Michael get things running again with all the angels back from the Empty.”

“I’m confused, so you didn’t kill Chuck?”

“Noash fukind matr-“

“Chuck’s gone, but he’s not dead.” Sam interrupted the garbled explanation Dean was trying to make through a mouthful of cookie. “We found a way to umm- bind him I guess? In his own mind so he didn’t even know it was happening. Rowena and I did the spell and Dean set the trap.”

“I was still as useless as in Chuck’s version.” Cas clarified taking another biscuit to make up for his stolen one.

“Hey, if you hadn’t saved me from Billie we’d all have been toast. You were key.”

“Wait so Chuck’s not human and he’s not dead?”

“No- God I can’t believe he made himself human. I can’t believe we made him human and then said that was a punishment – sorry, no he’s kind of in a uhhh…”

“Alternate universe.” Sam added, “but one just for him. It’s more like an alternative plane of reality inside his own mind where he can write whatever stories he wants and think they’re real but they’re not. They can’t hurt anyone.”

“But he’s God so…. They might be real? He could be making them real.”

Sam twisted his mouth thinking, it was something he’d considered but didn’t want to dwell on.

“Well it’s not us.” Dean declared, “And honestly, if he makes another world with other Sams and Deans and Cas’s and Jacks then they’ll defeat him some other way. Like Inception, but with God!” He grinned at his reference even as the rest of the room ignored him.

Becky leant back in her armchair letting out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you guys are ok. You too Cas, he was really adamant about killing you off.”

“Dean was very adamant about bringing me back.” Cas looked over to Dean, a soft smile and look of adoration of his face.

Dean blushed, trying to cover it up with a cough. “Yeah well, I had some stuff to say.”

Becky grinned, taking a sip of her tea as Sam suddenly started to find the wallpaper very interesting.

“So, what are you guys going to do know?” Becky asked after the moment had become sufficiently awkward. “I mean no Chuck, no apocalypse, no world to save. Are you going to keep hunting, or…?”

Sam, Dean and Cas looked at each other.

“I don’t know,” Sam said. 

“Honestly, I’m thinking Chuck had it right with the pie festival.”

Becky and Sam laughed at that.

Cas took another biscuit

***

Dean closed the boot of the Impala with a soft thud. Becky had given each of them one of her dioramas she sold on Etsy. It was always a bit weird being reminded that their life was a story that some people liked to collect stuff from for fun but he had to admit the miniature scale replica of Baby she’d given him was awesome.

Sam stood at the door giving Becky a hug and thanking her for the lunch. She hadn’t quite explained to the rest of the family who these three strange large men were that were randomly joining them for lunch beyond “They’re just some Supernatural fans I know from the internet.” Her husband had spent the entire time struggling to believe that lie even moreso after Cas had slightly traumatised one of the kids with an in-depth description of the dangers of invasive wasps to honey bee colonies.

Dean wandered over to where Cas stood beside Sam and Becky.

“Thanks again for checking on us Becky.” Dean said, accepting the hug she gave him.

“Of course, I always knew you’d beat him but it’s good to know for sure.”

“Sure is.” Dean took a step back, “Well I guess we’ll be seeing you?”

“Next Supernatural convention?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Even if there’s a ghost?”

“You do know we’re not the only hunters in America.” 

Becky bit her lip.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she paused, “it’s just, this is exactly how I would have written it.”

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise, Dean brows knitted as Cas tilted his head.

“I don’t- not that you had to go through all that. Just that now you can actually take a break. Be normal, do your laundry-“

“-Sam and Dean have always done their laundry. That’s how they clean their clothes.” Cas piped up in confusion.

“-Be happy. Get to actually enjoy living in the world you saved. Have free will and be at peace.”

Dean chuckled, “I mean I’m personally good with never doing my laundry. But you’re right, it’s weird but good.”

“We’ll stay in touch Becky.” Sam said.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

They waved their goodbyes and walked back over to the Impala. Dean got in behind the wheel, Sam in shotgun and Cas in the back.

Turning the key the Impala revved to life. The radio began to sing, the opening chords to Kansas’s Carry on Wayward Song filling the car. 

Dean slammed the radio off.

“God, I think Chuck has forever ruined that song for me.”

Sam laughed, in the back Cas even let out a chuckle as he leant his head against the window ready for the long drive home.

It wasn’t their heaven. Not yet anyway. And that made it so much more.