#which would make. like. every part of his brain even worse. which is not ideal in the slightest

[ruvviks]

HIIIIIIIIIII for nathan obviously <3 what a guy <3 🩹🔶🐉❤️🤍💔💛

nathan asks!

🩹 ADHESIVE BANDAGE — does your oc have any physical and/or mental disabilities?

when nathan was young, he was sent to some sort of a jdc after being accused of killing his younger sister rosie (he did not do this). here he was treated by an unreliable specialist who ended up diagnosing him with a bunch of things he didn't have, after which he was given medication which fucked him up pretty bad. in secret, all of this was just mobius experiments since the jdc in question was a secret mobius location, which meant they've been keeping an eye on nathan since he was around ten years old

if nathan were to get some proper diagnoses later in his life, he would be diagnosed with a variety of things (correctly this time); paranoid personality disorder, which mainly stems from his paranoia in combination with how he's been treated all his life; depersonalization-derealization disorder, which is mostly the result of both his horrible youth as well as the continuous jumping between real life and the STEM environment (which is essentially a dream environment made out of minds linked together); ocd, always been with him; and then later on also ptsd and even psychosis, both direct results of the STEM environment's influence on his psyche. he does get proper treatment eventually and manages to manage it all pretty well given the circumstances

as for physical disabilities, nathan injured his leg in a fight with the harbinger during the events of tew2. it has left some permanent damage (though he's not sure if it's in his leg or between his ears) causing him to get very annoying pain in it if he runs / walks for too long

🔶 LARGE ORANGE DIAMOND — does your oc know cpr? do they have any other medical expertise?

nathan's medical expertise does not go much further than what he was taught at mobius, which would mostly be basic wound tending etc. he would've had cpr classes with that as well, but he's never had to use his skills in a real situation before so if they're actually useful skills is up for debate

he can patch up most of his own wounds but not very neatly, so most of them leave pretty big and visible scars. he's not bothered by it though but because of this generally doesn't feel confident patching up others since he doesn't want to fuck something up for them

🐉 DRAGON — what is your oc's favorite mythical creature?

one thing about nathan is that he's a sceptic through and through so his interest in mythical creatures would be below the ground LMAO he would think werewolves are pretty cool but if anything he would think that in a horny way. and that's it

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits?

nathan is very efficient and practical. he has a varied skillset and is very thorough and focused on the task at hand, which makes him a very professional man to work with. he values quality and is always looking to learn and become better at things, which would've basically made him employee of the month at mobius every month

it's interesting that a lot of his positive traits are work-related, but for the longest time nathan's life entirely revolved around work and who he was within mobius. more of his positive traits for his personal life would be that he's witty, a lot more intelligent than he makes himself out to be, and overall a surprisingly nice person to talk to. he does have weird and off-putting vibes which make him a bit less approachable but if you get past that he is very pleasant in conversation

🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits?

nathan can be very objective which sometimes results in him being clear-headed and direct, but sometimes it translates to him being cold and distant. he is also extremely loyal; a good trait to have, as long as it's loyalty with the right kind of people, and he has definitely not always been on the right side of history considering he was part of mobius (albeit against his will; he did end up doing a lot of things for them that he did have control over)

on top of all that, nathan can be very selfless, giving his all to keep something or someone who means a lot to him safe. this makes him protective, but also very self-destructive, as he cares little about what happens to himself in the process

💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits?

nathan is a very vengeful man and he holds serious grudges which he generally takes to his grave. he easily feels wronged by situations or other people and when someone hurts him it's very difficult for him to trust them again. he's also impulsive and stubborn, both of which can be observed in the way he can devote himself entirely to a cause or another person if he cares about them enough, and the self-destructive behavior that comes with it

💛 YELLOW HEART — how many languages does your oc speak? what language(s) are they learning, if any?

nathan is fluent in english and spanish, and he knows bits and pieces of japanese as well as sign language because of his history with mobius. he is actively teaching himself more sign language currently, and would love to know more languages than he does but it's very difficult for him to do so he would probably not be able to fully become fluent in a fourth language (counting asl as his (eventual) third)

[possesseddesiress]

Switch Up: Miles' Ambition

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Switch Up: Miles' Ambition (English Version)

Part One: First Level

Part Two: Logan's Revenge

Part Three: Ethan's Relief

Part Four: Miles' Ambition

Part Five: Conclusions

I thought about asking Ethan and Logan for help. After all they were my best friends, but they both seemed so unfocused on flexing their new muscles or almost sniffing each other, they looked like children.

I didn't mind raising suspicions, more than one person had seen us in the library, some curious, some even judging. but what would they do? They had no way of checking that there was anything wrong with “Caleb” and ‘Ruben’, much less in “Alan's” new behavior.

Alan's body was certainly a good acquisition: handsome, attractive, muscular, rich, even his scent was... A delight.

However, he was a far cry from my “final destination”, the only reason I had started doing the check-up: Blake Jones.

The best athlete in all of high school: He had been captain of the swimming, soccer, Greco-Roman wrestling and basketball teams. And he could have been captain of more teams if he wanted to, he was such a freak at sports, I didn't even know where he found the time to practice and represent the school in every discipline, but there he was, being the star.

I wanted that.

You might think that being an athlete, his average would be low, lots of muscles but little brains, right?

On the contrary, Blake seemed to have everything in the palm of his hand: fame, body, brains and money.

The perfect springboard to reach the pinnacle of success. I had always been made to feel lesser because of my appearance: lots of pimples, a spinal problem, glasses and to make matters worse, I also had braces.

To others I was just another nerd with a hissing problem and a computer geek. But I was more than that, and the control was the perfect test of my abilities.

Blake's body was the ideal opportunity to bring out my intellect, such a hot body accompanied by a brilliant mind? Success was assured.

Thousands of inventions created by me - Steve Jobs and Einstein would be dwarfed by me! The control could go on the market long after, perhaps, sell for a huge amount of money and ensure a way that no one could take my new body away from me and everything would be perfect.

But there was no use fantasizing without my lottery ticket.

I made my way to the sports area of the school, right where the pool was, the soccer field or the soccer field, even the gymnasium. There was no way I couldn't find Blake.

A few guys waved at me, which caught me off guard until I remembered what skin I was in. It felt good to be noticed, if a body like Alan's was flashy, I couldn't imagine what I'd get with my favorite stud.

I arrived at the gym, empty. For a second I thought I had failed, when I heard soft breathing, I turned to look a little closer, searching for the source. Until I saw Blake sitting on the steps, agitated and wearing his compression shirt, he watched me for a second, raising his palm.

- Hey - he sighed with a smile.

It was as if my brain stopped working, there was an awkward silence until finally something escaped my lips.

- Hi

That made him raise his eyebrow.

- Why so serious, Alan? - he leaned over to get a drink of water - Your essays not going well?

- Nah, bro - Fuck, didn't that sound too forced? - Teacher Rivera sprained her foot or something, they suspended rehearsals.

- Too bad - He nodded slightly. Another silence - Are you sure you're okay, dude? You're feeling quieter than usual. Also... Ugh. What's that smell? - He motioned, starting to sniff around him.

Holy shit, holy shit.

He walked over to me, sniffing.

- Dude... - he sighed in denial, looked up. And what followed next took me by surprise - Since before? Today you woke up bold

He murmured to grab me by the back of the neck and pull me close to him for a kiss. It was intense, but what was going on!

- Wait... - I mumbled pulling away.

- Too exposed? You're right, I jumped the gun. I'm sorry, but you just, you smell too good, dude - he smiled only to almost throw himself at me again.

Blake was gay? Alan was gay? The two of them were... together? Fuck, I'm supposed to be smart, how could I not notice?

They hardly ever speak to each other in public, they don't even belong to the same social circle and share few classes. But... Blake always goes to the theater performances, and Alan goes to all the games.

He kissed me on my neck with intensity, caressing my waist, slightly lifting my shirt to sink his fingers into my skin. I let out a sigh, it was like my brain was fried, I couldn't think anything!

I wanted more of him. I knew what my goal was, but what was the likelihood of getting this on my body? Never. And after I get Blake's body? Impossible.

I kissed his lips intensely, then moved to his armpit to sink my face into it, smelling like crazy.

- Woah, easy, looks like someone's excited!

He giggled with that charismatic smile, loaded with desire. I continued to lick and smell his armpits, filling my face with his sweat, his scent.

He grabbed me with some force from my buttocks, massaging them obscenely. I closed my eyes, panting and lost in the sensation, that I didn't even realize when he pulled out his grip.

- What is this? - he asked curiously, weighing the box. I was about to take it from him, but that would be suspicious, what would someone like Alan do with something like that? I mean... it looked like a control and already at first sight, but to bring it with you?

- I found it - I mumbled - It was lying in one of the aisles

- And why did you take it? - more than confused, he seemed curious, with a chuckle at the end of his question.

- I found it conspicuous

He nodded

- It is - He ran his fingers over the buttons, fiddling with it, he didn't even notice when he pressed the yellow button, just when he had it turned towards him - Will it work with batteries or something? - He turned it over again.

And suddenly I was holding the controller in his hands. I couldn't help but smile.

It was a strange thing, when I went from my body to Alan's, it certainly felt different, he was taller, had a slender body, but now. Damn... I felt strong from head to toe, his calves, his arms, his pecs felt like melons and his abs felt like steel! I felt so... Powerful.

I looked up, meeting the gaze of the body I'd been in just moments before.

- What the fuck? - he shouted. He looked down at himself, touching himself in panic.

I had never been good at acting. Science and math were my best weapons, acting? I could barely pass in theater. But I had to do it, at least if I wanted to fit the nails in this time.

- Blake? - I said in a frightened tone. I had to make every effort not to start groping myself like a madman.

The new Alan looked at himself in amazement, he stood in front of a mirror. He didn't say anything, he was just puzzled. And when I least expected it, he smiled. - Not bad... - he murmured caressing her arms, the frame of her waist and even taking her buttocks to shake them - Yes you do have a big butt! - he teased giving her a few slaps as he laughed.

I thought he would be more scared or even reluctant, but he seemed excited exploring his body. It took him almost no time at all to slip his hand inside his pants.

- You're not bad yourself - I murmured to start touching my new ample chest, it was so satisfying to feel those fat bulges. I was no longer puny, now I had muscles all over me! - And just smell this... - I said raising my arm, enjoying all the stinky stench that was now emanating.

Strong, musky and pungent. It smelled like a real man, an alpha male.... “Alan” kept touching himself with care, even taking out his phone to take a couple of pictures of himself showing off his arms.

- Oh yeah? - he raised his eyebrow as he started to move towards me, slowly.

- Yes... Alan.

He stood still for a second, but then smiled.

- You should let me try it, Blake.

And it was like touching heaven. Tasting all my fantasies, the future in the palm of my hand.

- Go ahead.

I lifted my shirt to give him direct access to the body that seemed to devour him with my gaze, plus his pants left nothing to the imagination.

A prominent silhouette was forming, and I didn't even feel that “excited” yet. I felt the weight of his attributes, heavy as a bull.

He knelt down to start licking my abdomen in its entirety, it felt good.... too good. Like an obedient and attentive object ready to serve. I grabbed him by the hair to rub him again and again against my skin, which made him let out a moan.

- Ah, ah, A-Alan!

- No. My name is Blake.

I demanded. Squeezing his hair, which made him gasp more.

- Blake... - he murmured obediently.

- That's the way I like it, puppy...

I smiled.

When I least expected it, we were both slammed up against the mirror, his pectorals clashing on the cold surface, and his rod rubbing over and over in the reflection.

- Ah, ah!

I nibbled on his neck, squeezing his waist tighter, the back and forth between our bodies was continuous, sweaty and intoxicating. As if we had both surrendered to simple instincts, but geez. Getting the body of my dreams and having that same guy at my feet could make me last for hours.

- I-I'm going to finish - he sighed with his eyes closed, anxious. I was about to hit him harder when I thought, with a wicked grin. I stopped the movements, which made him feel more desperate - Why are you stopping?

- Tell me you'll always be Alan.

I stroked him gently, as if at any moment he was going to take his hand away.

- What? What the hell are you talking about?

- And I'll always be Blake.

I smiled.

- Dude, I'm not liking what you're saying, I think...

I was about to speak when I pushed back against him, burying my tool even deeper.

His eyes widened, his cheek pressed against the glass as he gasped for more, thrust again and again. Enjoying the sound of the skins slapping against each other, saliva even seemed to drip from his mouth, a goofy, lost smile on his face.

- Say it.

- I-I...

- Say it! - I applied more force again. What seemed to break him was when I touched that sensitive spot inside him.

- Ah, I'm Alan! Your Blake! Ah, ah! - he gasped with a smile, nodding. I couldn't help releasing my seed inside him, immediately, he did the same, spilling that whitish liquid against the reflection.

I let it spill with satisfaction on my face. Alan's breathing looked ragged, a mess, he watched me closely.

I thought he would have a fit of rage, or try to hit me, even complain: but instead, he just smiled.

- Blake...

He muttered.

The days went on after that. I knew people could notice the “new” behavior in Caleb, Ruben, Blake, even Alan. But many preferred to ignore it, besides. What would they say to popular guys?

Exactly, nothing.

The new Logan was very meek, Ethan and Miles on the other hand? For a while they were annoying, but after a couple of talks, discipline and their mouths being occupied for more than just complaining, they became as obedient as he was.

And everything seemed to be perfect, I loved being Blake, just look at these muscles!

Everyone was looking at me, everyone was crazy about me, drooling at every step I took in this school, where I was finally the king.

Slowly I started to wear more revealing clothes. Fuck it, what does it matter?

Sexy, an adonis. At first I worried what I would do about Blake's sports, he had the brains but not his athletic abilities. But we quickly learned that the talents and abilities of our current bodies seemed to be preserved.

Ruben was quite a sensation for the works, they said he had become a little more... “spicy.” The rumors of dating girls had disappeared but mysteriously seemed to have been replaced by rumors of dating boys.

Caleb, well. He was still sweaty-smelling and fond of exercise, but he had improved his grades, as well as acquiring a new taste for superhero costumes. He almost seemed obsessed with watching the spandex stretch to highlight his muscles.

The new and improved Blake, was quite the star. Skilled at sports, more strategic than before, even ruthless? And well, more exhibitionist.

But you know what was best of all? The new Alan. He became a star of the theater, almost on Ruben's level. And shortly thereafter he spoke to me to “formalize” our relationship.

It had worked out well for everyone, hadn't it?

To be continued.

----

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages.

This is the fourth part of “Switch Up”, a new series for the blog, I hope you like it. The story of Ethan and his friends is almost at the end... But what other adventures will the control be able to give?

See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

---

[altschmerzes]

Wait wait wait...to get snippets of Driving A Wedge...we just...ask? 🥹

....can we have some more, please?

that is PRECISELY the way to get them and yes you absolutely may :)

this is from after the rescue also. river is having some trouble... adjusting. the world feels like a very different place - or, rather, the world feels like the same place and he is not the same person. he's particularly having trouble sometimes keeping lamb and frank separate in his mind for reasons he is Not planning to examine too closely. this is a longer clip so most of it is under the cut.

--

“Or what? What are you going to beat me with if I don’t, sir?” The word he’s just used barely registers to River, but it does register. He spares just a fraction of attention to it, cringing internally, but there’s far more to be worried about at the moment than that particular slip.

Because Lamb is rolling his eyes and snapping back, taking a step towards the side of his desk like he might be about to come around it and saying, loud and annoyed, “I don’t know, Cartwright, you seem to have all the answers today, what do you suggest?��

Everything goes a little strange, then. River’s breath catches in his chest and he doesn’t know what he was expecting Lamb to have said in response to his ridiculous, bratty challenge but it wasn’t that. He can’t quite think clearly anymore, and maybe he hasn’t been thinking clearly this whole time, really, maybe his stupid fucking brain hasn’t been working right since he woke up this morning, but it doesn’t matter. Working brain or no, River knows he needs to answer, needs to say something, and ideally say it soon. Lamb is giving him one of those looks that Lamb has given him a thousand times before but he doesn’t know what to make of it this time. And in case the question was real, ignoring it is no kind of option. River knows now that he’s fucked up and fucked up badly and he doesn’t need to be making it worse for himself.

What do you suggest? There are… options. River could say any number of things, any number of items around Slough House that would do the trick, but he just can’t seem to pick one of them. It doesn’t feel real. None of this feels real.

Lamb has never been violent to him before, and River is honestly finding it bizarrely difficult to picture, even now, to imagine ahead of time how this is could possibly go. It’s making it hard to predict, to have some kind of expectation of what to prepare himself for in anticipation of what’s about to happen. (Maybe. Maybe about to happen. River doesn’t know for certain, does he? Maybe this is insane. This is probably insane, right? It’s not like Lamb is actually going to— He couldn’t truly plan on—)

Still, it’s Lamb. People have made the mistake of assuming he isn’t capable of much anymore, and River doesn’t intend to be one of them. He’s capable of plenty, and River still hasn’t given him an answer. Lamb asked him a question and he hasn’t answered, and there’s no point in avoiding it. If there’s even the thinnest chance it was serious, that Lamb wanted him to make a suggestion for what to— Just. Further disobedience never made anything better. Always made it worse.

“There’s an extension cord by my desk,” River says in a voice from which he strips of every bit of that emotion he can possibly remove, and he doesn’t even have to think that hard to come up with it. He can see it in his minds eye, the dusty off-white coil of hardened plastic that he thinks he ought to put away somewhere it won’t be a tripping hazard every time he catches sight of it.

Fuck that would hurt. There would be blood. Worse than a belt. Probably a lot worse.

River’s hands are trembling a little bit and he can feel them doing so, shuddering in uncontrollable little shivers. He should stop. He knows that he should figure out a way to stop them, to wrestle down his reactions and suffocate them, but he had never been quite so good at that part as Patrice. That steely thousand-yard stare in the face of all but the worst pain is something that River just never got the hang of and it still eludes him now. His eyes are wide and he doesn’t know what the rest of his face looks like but he’s sure that there’s something happening on it, especially because he can see Lamb’s face and the look that he wears is nothing like the one he’d had on moments earlier.

“What?” The question is nothing short of shocked.

[curiousitycollective]

hiii, very sorry if this is the wrong blog to ask for something like this. my therapist has been away for a few weeks so i cant ask for help normally. we recently realized that we've developed an introject of an abuser, which is normal for our system. what's not normal is he's kind of nice, like an idealized version of this abuser, and feels like more than a fragment (usually our abuser introjects are like fragments or feel puppetted, not like real alters. he's a real guy). he hangs around the front a lot and has been passively influencing our host to engage with more media they both enjoy (but that real abuser introduced us to), but for the rest of us doing this is just bringing up bad feelings and memories associated with real abuser. we broke up barely 3 months ago so those feelings are still fresh enough that doing this often is messing with us my therapist would generally say that radically accepting this new introject is a good thing to do, and we're TRYING, but it feels like whenever we do we get sucked into flashbacks. i dont know how to balance doing things he wants and accepting him while also protecting myself/the rest of us from the pain his source causes.... is this... normal?? like, the part where this abuser introject is Nice. i've never heard or experienced them being nice before. he's not nice all the time to be fair, but he's WAY kinder than his source. if you have any tips for balancing our lives better with this type of alter advice is appreciated as well. thank you so much <3

This probably isn't going to be as detailed as we usually are because we're not having a good time with words but we wanted to try and give you an answer. Also this is like half text to speak and half typed so please excuse any weird typos

So there's two big things to address, as to the first yes it's completely normal to introject nicer or idealized versions of abusers.

There's a lot of reasons it can happen and it doesn't always happen every time or even often but its a thing. It can be due to the need to process positive experiences, the brain needing some form of familiarity and comfort, trying to recontextualize negative memories and more. There's probably as many reasons as there are introjects

In general the community doesn't like to talk about introjects of abusers, and even less so when yiu get into stuff like positive introjects so it can give the impression it never happens but it's completely normal.

Okay as for coping we're going to give a bunch of options and suggest seeing what helps you the most. We do want to emphasize that while acceptance is good, that doesn't prelude you also being hurt and upset about things. You can accept is presence while still holding space for the fact you are hurt and its difficult to have him with you

for coping with flashbacks it might help to have some kind of grounding sensory thing on hand. Something with a strong smell you like or a fidget with a lot of tactile feedback it can help bring you out of them and give you something to focus on

It might help to speak with him about the stress and flashbacks not in a "your a bad person for existing" way but as a "hey this isn't your fault but this is tough for the system and we are working on things" so he can be aware and might be able to help work with y'all

Give yourselves a huge break, your dealing with something really fucking stressful without a big part of your support network. Don't expect yourselves to be at 100% and balancing everything perfectly.

Focus on keeping yourselves feed and sleeping as well as you can, this sounds like obvious advice but its really easy to let both slip and both can lead to major mood swings and worse symptoms (this is based on both personal experience and biological science)

Try and keep communication between all of you as open as you can. Its easy to shutdown and bury feelings but it will make things harder to deal with and can lead to resentment

Above all give yourselves time and patience because this is a difficult thing to deal with and you are doing your best.

[allwormdiet]

Agitation 3.1

Got waylaid by work and brain weather, but we're back to it. Let's see how Taylor's life is going

Her routine has come up before, but it bears saying that I think Taylor's actual superpower might just be that she's a morning person who can hold herself to accomplish daily goals, like goddamn girl

The constant, casual cruelty that makes up so much of Taylor's history is equal parts saddening and infuriating. I'm sure we'll get an explanation for why the bullies do this to her, I think I've said as much in previous posts, but also as mentioned in previous posts I find it aggravating to endure.

...I don't know if this is quite the right place in my reading to speculate on it, but I'm not sure if Taylor even has a shot at university at this point, even setting aside the cape thing. The bullies are all in her year, which means they'd never be separated from her by graduation. Their constant sabotage and harassment would mean her grades are low, so even if she gets into a college with whatever GPA she can bodge together (and no extracurriculars to pad her application out), she's probably not going to earn any scholarships and money's already pretty tight for the Heberts. That means student loans, and probably shit rates considering the world they're in.

Maybe this is my bitter ass reflecting on how the greatest benefits I got out of going to college were completely incidental to the courses I took or the degree I earned, but... Taylor, I know college meant a lot to your mom, I just don't think that path is nearly as open to you as it used to be. I think it's fine to just learn a trade, and I think it's fine if the trade is armed robbery.

So you're telling me Taylor's self-image used to be worse? Jeeesus

I like that Brian knows how to blend into an environment as the situation calls for it. That speaks to a pretty keen observational ability, and also is maybe tied to his need to act more grown-up than he is. And now I'm sad again.

"I want" is cute, embarrassment is for suckers (I say, easily embarrassed)

I don't even like coffee, but a fifteen dollar coffee had better be the best coffee you've ever had, oh my god

And honestly that must have been weird for every member of the team, just suddenly having money not be a problem anymore. Taylor's holding out for now, although I suspect it won't be that way forever, and everyone else either wants or needs it bad enough for their own ends that I don't think they're gonna think about it too hard (except for Lisa, who has the full context and whose power is thinking too hard)

Taylor please don't undersell your injuries to your teammates, I don't like you doing it with your dad but I understand it. Here though? Come onnnnn

Yeah there we go

Violence is an easy language to understand. Cruel, obviously, and painful, but if Rachel is already struggling with other people's words and feelings (five bucks says she's autistic tbh) then getting the shit kicked out of her is probably a better sell on the new recruit than any pretty speech

...Ideally they move past that pretty quick so words can be used again

Also poor Rachel, for real. Ten years in the system and then whatever it was that triggered her powers, which is obviously never good. No wonder she came out the other end more willing to trust dogs than people.

Ugh, my heart

Is she showing off for the guy she's crushing on? That's adorable

Curious that the limits of her power seem to be based on complexity of the brain. I assume there has to be a brain at all or else she could just shoot germs at people, although that'd also be a little bit inefficient as a power unless she started getting into disease warfare and holy shit this would be a very different story if Taylor could give people smallpox

Gotta be a weird day for the crab though

Couple things here

Brian you're not even eighteen yet as far as I know, what the hell

Of course Lisa cheated, she's built to cheat, at that point I'm not sure it even counts as cheating

Knowing what I know about Alec, somehow I doubt he was ever in school to drop out in the first place

...on the flipside I'm a little surprised that Rachel never went during her time in the system, you'd figure that'd be a condition of her fostering but either the guardians didn't give a shit or she fought her way out of ever actually attending

Also, I know it's a matter of course that she'd have a key to the base, but it's sweet all the same

It's nice of Brian to make this offer, although I'm willing to bet it's because he's the only Undersider who would get up before 6 AM. It's also a pretty smart call to keep her up to date this way

Also very funny that Taylor is like "Oh I like Lisa just fine but she scares the shit out of me"

...Also also, for real, Lisa has to already know what's going on with Taylor right? There's no way Taylor's good enough at lying to bury that one.

Girl I'm dreading it and I'm just reading about it

This is just. So goddamn sad. And maddening, to boot.

Gee Taylor you sure to seem to spend a fair amount of time thinking about the comparative attractiveness of other women

Agonizing, though, for real. Wildbow has knocked every school scene out of the park and I hate it.

I wonder if Taylor's gonna even bother coming back to school at this point. First day she left mid lunch, second day she left right after lunch started, here she's splitting before first period. As much as she clings to this side of her life... I don't know if it's any healthier than full-time villainy.

Go blow off steam with your new friends Taylor

Current Thoughts

I actually don't have any real expectations for this arc going into it. Obviously Arc 1 is the start of... I mean kind of everything, and Arc 2 is made up of the immediate aftermath from those events. This one? I dunno. I was a little worried I'd have to deal with another chapter of Winslow, but it looks like Taylor decided she was sick of that shit

I like Brian, but I think mostly I'm worried for him? This is a lot of effort so far made to seem mature and normal, and I don't know if that's possible for a teenager who goes out to be a supervillain. It's admirable in a sense, but I'm worried about how fragile it leaves him.

I don't love that Rachel seems satisfied by an exchange of violence but that's more bc I don't want these kids beating the shit out of each other, not any kind of "this is bad actually" sense.

Other than that I'm mostly just curious what the rest of this arc looks like. Thank fuck it's not more high school.

Oh, yeah, I'm gonna try and read more at work today, I might take my screenshots then and see if they drive me up a wall, but even if so I'll just retake them when I get home. Fingers crossed work is slow enough for it.

[mangher]

"i've patched up nastier wounds than this." //Lance!Wuwa

@nvrcmplt

Darius grimaced, eyes squeezing shut and he tried to not flinch, to pull away as a gash on his face was being cleaned. The cut itself, even if deep, hurt surprisingly little. It might have been due to adrenaline, or the area had just numbed from all the pain receptors going haywire.

Having his arm in a sling to mend a bone, the ache from that keeping him present despite slight whooziness. "Ouch!" he exclaims at one point, instinctively also pulling back. The uninjured hand lifted up, fingers nearly digging into the cut as it's stopped. Yeah, no, maybe it's better not to go touch it, since that would mean Lance'd have to start anew, and he did want this to be over with.

"Feels bad that you have to do this," he manages to say from between his teeth. Ideally, they could have gone to find themselves a proper medic, but moving around in this condition, and with people in a worse state than him, wasn't exactly a good idea.

It'd scar, Darius is pretty sure. But he's already learned to take them as something akin to a badge, a permanent memory of him having survived something. Having been able to return home, back to Ragtag, back to Lance.

That thought has him pause his fussing a moment, blinking a few times to see more clearly. The look of concentration, the crease between brows, the worry he could pinpoint in the eyes of his best friend, the---

Darius doesn't know if he should lable it.

A sense of calm settles inside him, his shoulders slumping, his posture relaxing. Even if he previously flinched and pulled away from his wounds being touched, he now sits still. Watching Lance move, watching him take care of him. Trusting Lance with every piece of himself, all the way to the deepest parts of his core.

Yeah, this is why he keeps returning. This is why he keeps fighting. It's all for him.

"I--," the words get stuck in his throat. Darius swallows once, his gaze leaving Lance for a moment. He wants to say so much, yet not knowing how. Darc takes a breath, looking up with determination which usually is seen as he prepares himself for fight. Like he is making a promise he plans on keeping, until his last breath.

"I --I'm gonna build a proper life for you. A good one, a safe one. With everything you'll ever need. If you'll have...!"

Darius's brain kicks in at this point, stepping on the brakes, noting how it seems like a confession, even if not worded as such. The realization has his smudged cheeks turn pink, the color also spreading over the bridge of his nose and to the tips of his ears, turning a few shades darker.

There's a swooping feeling in his stomach. He can't just go blurting out stuff like that when... when there's probably nothing. Maybe he had hit his head too hard?

If you'll have me. Accept me.

"I'll stop at nothing. I don't care what I have to do."

I don't care who I have to leave behind.

"I'd do anything for you, for us."

[lightbluetown]

happy new years eve everyone! here's an overly-personal post of me reflecting on 2023 ✨

have i ever told you guys that i had no idea ofmd was a queer show when i first started watching it? i really didn't know the first thing about it-- i'd never even seen a picture of stede in my life. it took me almost three weeks to veeery gradually get through the first three episodes. i enjoyed them, but only felt like tuning in during dinner on weekends. i've been around fandom spheres for twelve years but i've never been part of a big fandom myself (or of any fandom that wasn't related to video games or, well, anime). certainly didn't think that would change anytime soon. yet suddenly, a mere three weeks before the start of season 2, i heard the words "you wear fine things well" and all the circuits in my brain were reset

2023 had definitely been a suboptimal year for me until then-- devastating natural disasters, personal losses, deep political problems, the uszh. not to mention the terrible injustices and wars happening around the world. i tend to protect myself from negative thoughts and fear by letting hyperfixations consume me (as i'm sure many people can relate) and boy did ofmd do the job! especially with the excitement of s2... i didn't even realize when october came to an end, it just flew by! i excitedly watched every episode as soon as they came out, made some silly posts on this blog that i'd randomly decided to make... yes, the fandom has its fair share of problems, and i see annoying takes in my twitter fyp basically every day, but eh, i've seen (and been in) worse communities. my experience has been lovely! i love all the beautiful fan art, gifsets and meta posts here. people are so passionate, which only makes my passion grow stronger. i really appreciate it.

unsurprisingly, i've consumed basically everything you can possibly consume that features rhys/the new zealand gang (i've become a diehard fotc fan too). sorry for the sudden dark turn but a really close friend of mine tragically passed away the day after my birthday in november. i don't think i would've moved on with my life if it wasn't for the very welcome distraction provided by these series. especially ofmd of course

ofmd isn't just a silly fun comedy show, it isn't just a love story, at least not to me. it's the story of a man who's spent his life feeling lost, left out, left behind, unwanted, unloved, unneeded. a middle-aged gay man stuck in aristocracy who, for some reason, i can deeply relate to as a young queer person stuck in the middle east. it's the story of people like me freely and unapologetically being themselves, fighting to live their lives filled with joy and love, even in less-than-ideal conditions. it's given me a lot of strength and hope when i needed it. i would've had a much worse memory of 2023 in my mind if it hadn't been for ofmd

so yeah. 2023? not a huge fan! glad it's over! but i'm really glad ofmd was part of it!! i'll remember the past four months fondly, i'll keep loving the series for many months to come and i'll hopefully enjoy a third season with other fans. i'm excited! i hope 2024 will be better for everyone

thank you all!!

[anime-dreams]

Gojo's and Geto's thoughts during the KFC breakup HAHAHHAHAHA

Theme: SatoSugu mwah

Warnings: none, angst??? (i mean it's SatoSugu so what do yall expect besides angst i hope my writing can bring out the angst thou) not proofread!!

Authors note: hi beautiful people, this is my first time trying this out so my sincerest apologies if i did smt wrong that caused any kind of inconvenience for yall. SatoSugu broke my heart and i havent felt the same way since i read that darn In Another Life fanfic (i loved it thou anyone who watches Haikyuu and ships BokuAka should go check it out). Anyways my ultimate goal here is to make yall cry over SatoSugu again cuz i cant seem to get over them :/ hahahaha

Gojo's POV:

I heard what Yaga said. My brain could not process it in time. “Huh?” 

The only thoughts running through my mind was “No. it must be a mistake. No, Suguru would never.” Denial, denial, denial. I was confused. I was mad. Not mad at you, but at those damned old gits that tried to blame this on you. It had to be a misunderstanding… right? My mind told me you’ve changed. But my heart and soul still holds onto that last shred of hope. I tried everything to reach you, and eventually got ahold of your whereabouts through Shoko.

I recognised your figure amidst the busy streets of Shinjuku immediately. “Explain yourself, Suguru.” you paused. Your reply was stark.  “You heard it from Shoko, right? That’s all there is.” You didn’t even bother to turn, didn’t even bother to look into my eyes to say those words. I grind my teeth. “So you’re just gonna kill everyone who’s not a jujutsu sorcerer? Even your parents?” That shred of hope was slowly sliding out of my grasp. “I can’t allow my parents to be a special exception.” You sounded crazy. Your words were insane. I feel like i don’t understand you anymore.

When you told me that there was a point to kill, and that you were aiming to eliminate all non-sorcerers from this world, that hope disappeared completely. Who are you now? I was looking at a familiar face, yet it was clouded in a shroud of unfamiliarity. It was impossible to do so. I yelled at you, to try and get you back to your senses.

I tried, so you won’t leave, although a part of me already knew how this would end. Every cell in my body rejected that inescapable truth. Every nerve in my body rejected that inevitable outcome. You finally turned, and my eyes locked with yours. My heart skipped a beat, and my breathing hitched. Those dark eyes were like nocturnal oceans, with secrets shimmering in the depths. Those dark eyes that once had the light of life, those dark eyes that turned steely when they met mine.  “Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo, or does being the strongest make you Satoru Gojo?” What sort of a dumb question is that? You’re not making any sense. “What are you trying to say?” “If I had your powers, don’t you think that chances would be higher that my foolish ideal would become a reality?” just for a split second, sorrow flashed in your eyes, and it was gone so fast I couldn’t be sure it was even there in the first place.

Your eyes hardened into solid obsidian. “Satoru, I have decided how to live my life, and what's left is doing the best I can to achieve it. Goodbye, Satoru” I was stumped again. No. No. No, no, no, no. We didn’t come this far just to come this far. The words that cursed you crawled up my throat, but I couldn't find my voice. You turned your back firmly on me, and reality came crashing down. You were leaving. There will never be ‘us’ again. I will never be the same again. Was I nothing to you? Was I someone you just used, and throw away? How are you able to turn your back so easily on me?

I don't even know which pain is worse. The shock of what had happened, or the ache of what never will. I stood there, wanting to run after you, shout at you, beg you to stay, but I know, even if I do catch up to you, you will still fade into the crowd. Even if, by some miracle, you do stay, we will never be the same again. I swallowed, my hands trembling as I raised them up. I had to do it. I'm not born strongest for nothing. I'm strong enough to do this. You are a criminal after all. I should do it, I must do it. Your silhouette blurred each step you took, walking away from me, just like my future, how i cannot visualize without you in it, foggy and unclear. My hands paused, then fell back limply to my sides. I am…  not strong enough after all. Because it's you. Suguru, truth is, I think I already felt you leaving even before you left, but don’t you think I at least deserved a better ‘goodbye’ than this? Now I have to remember you for longer than I've kept you. No more riding on your shikigamis to school. No more going on missions together. No more joking around and annoying everyone else. No more…you, just the memories. Yeah, I think I can live with that. I should be able to. I'm the strongest, after all.

Geto's POV:

"Explain yourself, Suguru.” I recognised your voice immediately, and stopped in my tracks. I couldn’t turn, I couldn't face you without betraying my emotions. I knew you would confront me sooner or later. And I wasn't ready for that yet. “You heard it from Shoko, right? That's all there is.”

I could see your facial expressions in my mind’s eye. Your eyebrows knitted in frustration and anger, your teeth grinding together. The urge to turn and see you with my own eyes grew. “So you’re just gonna kill everyone who’s not a Jujutsu sorcerer? Even your parents?” “I cant allow my parents to be a special exception.” I know I must sound insane to you now, Satoru. But I promise you will understand. Once I achieved that ideal future for us. 

When you yelled at me that it was impossible for me to wipe out every single one of those non-sorcerers from this world, I heard it in your voice. The pain, the betrayal, the hurt, the anger, all directed at me. I braced myself, and turned, and I saw your face, twisted with rage and anguish. My gaze locked with yours. Your eyes that once held the most beautiful blue of the deep sea, had now became icy crystals, sharp and cold, but still breathtaking and pristine.

My front almost melted right there and then and I almost ran right back to you. But I held my ground. Because I knew that I had to be the one to do it. Because you won’t. I knew that the odds were against me, I knew that the chances of me succeeding were far and few between, but I had to try. For a better future for you, for us. And i blurted out my thoughts. “Are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo, or does being the strongest make you Satoru Gojo?” Those beautiful blue eyes darkened with confusion. “What are you trying to say?” “If I had your powers, don’t you think that chances would be higher that my foolish ideal would become a reality?”

Exorcise, absorb, over and over. Who am I doing this for? Who are we doing this for? After seeing Nanami’s breakdown over Haibara’s death, I just cant let it go on anymore, Satoru. If the only thing waiting for us sorcerers at the end of the climb is a mountain of our friends’ corpses, then…  “Satoru, I have decided how to live my life, and what's left is doing the best i can to achieve it. Goodbye, Satoru” I didn't know what else to say, except that it tore the heart out of my body saying goodbye to you.

Before i could allow myself to see the pain already beginning to seep into your face, and let my cowardice take over me, I memorized your features and turned my back on you. It was the hardest thing I've ever forced myself to do. It was excruciating, like carrying a heavy boulder up a steep, endless mountain, each step I took that increased the distance between us was an agonizing struggle. Satoru, you have no idea how many times I wanted to let go of that boulder, and make my way back to you. That would’ve been too easy, a much too comfortable feeling. But for the sake of our futures, I could not.

I'm sorry, Satoru. Part of me hoped that I would hear your familiar footsteps running after me, part of me hoped that you will tell me to stay. But I'm glad you didn't, because I'm sure, if you had done that, I will not have the strength to resist anymore. Because it’s you. 

I could feel it in my bones, your arms reaching, and I braced myself for the incoming reversal red. It never happened.

Actually, Satoru, I think I knew. I knew from the moment I met you that I'll spend an entire lifetime missing you. I know you deserved a better goodbye, I'm so sorry. But I promise our paths will cross again, maybe a few years later, and I promise then, I'll bring a better world to you. Satoru, between the moon and stars, I'm glad that I stepped onto the same land and dreamt, played and lived under the same sky as you.

-I WAS REALLY NERVOUS WHEN POSTING THIS HAHAHA BUT THANKS FOR MAKING IT ALL THE WAY THROUGH!!!! IF YOU ENJOYED THAT PLS LEMME KNOW IDK IF ILL MAKE A PT 2 BUT IF I DO, ILL PUT SHOKO INSIDE AND IF YALL HAVE SUGGESTIONS ILL BE MORE THAN HONOURED TO HEAR!! 💕💕-

****pls dont be a copycat and photocopy my work without permission or else im coming after u after i go after Gege

******pls only repost with permission

*****some quotes used in this are also not mine credits to google and tiktok haha

[adamwatchesmovies]

Cloned: The Recreator Chronicles (2012)

With a title like Cloned: The Recreator Chronicles, you know you’re in for an ordeal when you sit down to watch this one. This movie walks into the room like it’s got the next big idea; like it radiates so much creativity you should feel lucky to bask in its glow. It needs a serious reality check. There’s nothing original or interesting in this film's entire running time.

Craig (Alexander Nifong), his girlfriend Tracy (Stella Maeve) and his best friend Derek (J. Mallory McCree) are camping when they discover a cabin they think is abandonned. Before long, they meet duplicates of themselves. With these clones claiming they’re smarter, stronger, and better in every way, should the originals be worried?

What’s worse than a lousy performer in a key role? A lousy performer in dual roles. J. Mallory McCree, Alexander Nifong and Stella Maeve all come off quite badly in this film. In their defense, I think it had more to do with writer/director Gregory Orr than anything else. This script had to be a first draft. It’s the only way to excuse how bad the science is. We learn the clones were created when the genetic material of our heroes got mixed with some chemicals in the sewers beneath the cabin after it was struck by lightning. The clones are literally made from shit and shower water. Orr probably doesn’t want us to think about it too much because the mystery of where the duplicates came from is completely irrelevant. What matters is that Craig 1 is worried Craig 2 will steal Tracy away, which would be a bad thing because the clones are the anti-matter universe version of these characters. Craig 1 lacks confidence. Craig 2 takes charge. Derek is dopey. Derek 2 is so smart it’s “scary”. Tracy is a bit of a harpy, which makes her doppelganger the ideal girlfriend. If Craig 1 and Craig 2 could just swap girlfriends, everyone would be happy! or they would if Craig 2 wasn't evil.

You can feel this picture struggle and fail to make things happen until it gives up any attempt at elegance. By the end, people move from here to there without logic - anything to keep the plot moving. The “will he, won’t he?” couple-swapping question can only sustain so much running time. To compensate, much of the running time is dedicated to the original Craig and Tracy as they explore the ruined nuclear science lab. What do nuclear weapons have to do with creating full-grown adults with memories and roots in their hair? Shut up, that’s what.

The only time Cloned: The Recreator Chronicles becomes interesting is when its intelligence drops down to absolute zero. At one point, Derek attempts to hitchhike home. The first car he sees has a set of twins in it. He understandably freaks out and doesn’t go with them. The implication is that there are evil clones all over this area… but we soon learn that isn’t the case. It just means that Derek has the worst luck in the world. He could’ve been headed towards home and safety but he bumped into two unnerving-looking twins so now he’s going back towards danger. There’s a confrontation between Tracy and her duplicate that leads to a twist so obvious anyone with half a brain could figure it out.

A post-credit slide warns us that a sequel is planned. “To Be Continued”. Don’t make me laugh. Unless the director’s got blackmail photos handy, another one of these is not happening. I don’t even know what the plot would be. The story’s over on all counts!

You’ve seen scarier things staring at the mirror than in every second of Cloned: The Recreator Chronicles combined. The plot is obvious, the characters flat and the performances lousy. I’d call the special effects disappointing too but the split screens are well done - a shocker considering how unconvincing the lightning is. I watched it as part of a double bill with Us - another horror film about evil twins - but you don’t need to see the concept done well to appreciate Jordan Peele’s 2019 effort. I can’t think of any reason why anyone should see Cloned: The Recreator Chronicles. (October 15, 2021)

[writeouswriter]

Heya!

For any OC who needs a bit more development/ 'on screen' time:

What is your OC's pain tolerance like? What memory would your OC rather just forget? What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

(also, if required, use this as permission to slack off for a bit. Take some rest, do something fun, and remember you're cared about)

Heya! You're always a joy to see in my notes, such a positive force in this community, lovely, lovely, thank you for the ask!

I'm gonna do these for Anthony, full name Dr. Anthony Kasperek, an OC I've had for over a year but never really talked about, but the basics are: he's a scientist in the field of astro*incoherent mumbling* uh something or other, tentatively astrobiology, but maybe astrophysics or something else entirely depending which way the story goes or if I at all figure out what I'm talking about, point is, space science of some sort, okay, and he's one of a number of scientists invited to this somewhat shady facility to study what may be a possibly earth-shattering extraterrestrial artefact. He's stubborn, paranoid, jumpy, and a bit of an insomniac (because which of my ocs aren't at this point), but has a passion for space and the stars and unlocking the mysteries of the universe like nothing else. He's also very very good at his job, but has a manic edge that tends to scare people away, himself included sometimes. Anyway, onto questions:

What is your OC's pain tolerance like?

I'm oscillating between the idea of it being really low or really high due to the fact he's used to having to deal with things like massive migraines, needles and too much stimuli, but I don't know if that would make him more or less susceptible to the pain it causes. Because on the one hand, the familiarity could make him more numb to it, but on the other hand, it could also make him even more wary, elevating the issue in part psychosomatically. It certainly still causes him stress, so I'm inclined to think the amount he's been relegated to has actually lowered his pain tolerance over the years, making the sensations all the more unbearable/worse each time because he knows it's coming but still is never prepared because in an ideal world, he wouldn't have to deal with it again at all, and he wants to believe he's done with it, believe the pain will never come back, so it's a source of fear and shock every time it does.

2. What memory would your OC rather just forget?

Oh, for Anthony, I'm sure there are too many, especially the way his brain works, solidifying the worst of them, while throwing the rest into chaos when he's trying to focus and suddenly can't remember that vital piece of information in his head that was just there, it was just there, and also especially with his reputation as the “eccentric” scientist, which he’d rather have left behind. There's definitely the... incident that led him to be let go from his job at NASA, which he doesn’t like to talk about, (and also doesn’t understand how it hasn’t barred him from working on such a sensitive project, because what’s up with that? Why did they choose him? Why did they choose him?), and there’s the time in college when he had to spend a semester in the psych ward, but even then he had the stars to comfort him, (he somehow talked them into letting him have those little plastic glowing ones on the ceiling).

3. What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

Is it trite if I say his intellect/his mind? Though sometimes in that case, the weapon occasionally turns on himself. Actually, I'll go with something even more trite and say his genuine love for the universe and everything in it is his greatest weapon (and probably a secret tool that will help us later.jpeg). Barring that, I think he'd think daggers are pretty cool, but I doubt that will come up in the story, I'm sure he might whack someone with his telescope if in a pinch, but ough the calibration, but when cornered, his weapon of choice would probably be his fists or his nails, or throwing whatever random objects happen to be in the vicinity, perhaps if given the opportunity, he might find a way to give someone a little zap with the building's electricity. He may or may not have used those last few methods before...

[idyllic-affections]

HI just popping in bc of that recent post

i think it'd be really cool to see reader putting him into place but just add so much fucking angst in that too KHFKDJD, again, 2 traumatized people who meet in unfortunate times and instead of helping each other even tho both parties are aware of how fucked the other is they just... Somewhat destroy each other more?

because, as you've said, reader is so used with worse, but that doesn't mean it doesn't annoy them right? maybe reader snapped at scara because they were at the limit of their patience? I'm sure they'd feel empathy towards him, after all, poor guy is going through all of this and he's just part of dottore's bigger scheme, but the moment scara acts out, hurts them, they saw red and it just happened..

they didn't intend to do it, neither did scaramouche. they both did something that just, triggered their body's instinct because they both went through hell... I like the idea reader would be looking at their hands when scara visibly winces in pain or even sheds some tears but they clench their jaw and proceed with what they're doing. They've done worse, and they'll continue doing it because it's their just.

For scara and reader, it's just another normal day in the lab.

Sorry I just had a brain rot for that I'm so in love exploring unwell characters

HI MOOT HELLO you're so right btw i also love exploring unwell characters... the basis of every long fic i write is literally exploring Mental Illness HELSPDJSKG

scara and [name] could be so good for one another. they could be so helpful. ideally, they'd be something of a catalyst for recovery to one another... but neither of them are at that stage yet. neither of them are ready for recovery, because as you've said, this is normal for them, so they just make one another worse. constantly.

(i think dottore does this on purpose btw. it's something of a social experiment. he could do the maintenance, but... why would he, when there is the potential for a very fascinating encounter?)

[name] is very kind. it's an important theme in this fic. they're extremely empathetic, often regarded as some kind of saint among sinners by the unfortunate victims of dottore's endless curiosity. even though they have done very very awful things to keep themselves alive (which will also be explored in the fic teehee), they're regarded as just... very kind. very gentle. everything they do is always gentle.

and the day in particular in which [name] has to attend to scara's needs, they also happened to meet collei for the first time. the scared, crying, eleazar-ridden child that collei was.

they also, prior to that, were involved in a... very bloody experiment earlier in the day.

so, yeah. they've just about had it by the time they have to see scara.

they're so used to being passive all the time. they have to be. they're relatively strong, but... they can't defend themselves against any of the harbingers (or maybe they can, and they've just fallen victim to learned helplessness. who knows? 🫶), but being injured just triggers such a strong sense of fight or flight within them, because they're used to it being the segments that act out against them. they aren't used to scara acting out. they aren't used to sandrone's robots acting out (which they also help out with, just much more rarely).

put in that situation, they just can't help it when they tell him to stop acting like a fucking brat. they can't help it when they--very cruelly and insensitively--tell him that if he wants to be dottore's science project again, that's fine by them! why should they care what happens to him?!

...

the rest of his maintenance is carried out in heavy silence, of course. at least he stopped acting out. whoops. they could have been nicer, but they were just spread so thinly that day in particular.

they don't say anything when he whimpers after they prod a tender spot a little too hard.

he's used to it. he's used to it. he's used to it.

they just dissociate to get it over with faster. they don't like to think about being responsible for his tears. they don't like to think about how they're surely no better than their boss.

they don't really like thinking about those things in these situations, so they dissociate to fix it.

[some-scribbles]

I've strung pearls in a less official capacity (aka worked part-time for an independent jeweler as a teenager) and have another possibility to offer!

As sashaforthewin said, the standard practice is to knot each pearl, particularly if they're real pearls. But as you can imagine, this can take awhile, and it can get expensive to get pearls restrung by even an uncertified professional. (My numbers are 15+ years out of date--Sashaforthewin and other jewelry professionals can probably give more accurate numbers, but quotes I found on the Internet were ~$5-10 an inch, and you're supposed to get them restrung at least every 2-3 years based on how often you wear them. Martha Wayne's necklace is usually depicted as a pretty standard single-string 16-18" necklace, if you want to do the math.)

We mostly restrung people's heirlooms, so most people were more than willing to pay that price for restringing real pearls. But sometimes people came in with imitation pearls that they found in an estate sale (or worse, that they inherited from a much wealthier relative, only for us to tell them that Great Aunt Mildred's prized pearl necklace is actually faux pearls she probably bought before she married her wealthy husband. Awkward.) And perhaps this is reflective of our clientele, but sometimes those people would balk at the price of hand-knotting "fake" pearls, which are significantly cheaper than actual pearls. But they still wanted to restring them to make them good enough to wear somehow.

For those clients, we offered a cost-saving measure: we'd use suitably colored seed beads between each faux pearl for a small segment (usually 3-5 of them), then knot between segments. It obviously wasn't ideal for the necklace's strength and integrity over time, and people would be able to tell on closer inspection--and we would tell them so--but it cut down on cost due to saving time/labor, and they'd look right at a reasonable distance and thus would be fine for wearing to cocktail parties, date night, etc. Most people coming in with imitation pearls chose that option.

The Waynes could definitely afford to get a real pearl necklace, and to get them regularly and professionally restrung without this measure. But they were also going to see an action movie with their 8-year-old son, not a fancy occasion. Perhaps Martha decided not to wear the "nice" pearls that day, opting for an older imitation set she had. (My fanfic brain suggests that perhaps they were from when she was younger, like those customers' relatives. A gift from Thomas early in their courtship, perhaps? Or her first piece of "grown-up" jewelry as a teen in an old, respected family whose wealth had seen better days? But that's even more speculation than the rest of this post already is.) They would be in a dark theatre, so if other people saw them there nobody would be able to tell they weren't hand-knotted up close.

But you know who also wouldn't be able to tell the difference? An 8-year-old boy, who would just see his mother wearing a pearl necklace. Or a mugger in a somewhat fancy neighborhood looking for a rich target.

Honestly, I think that would make their deaths even more heartbreaking. Imagine a young Bruce researching something jewelry-related for Batman training and learning about how you're supposed to hand-knot pearls. Realizing something doesn't line up with his memory of that night, he starts looking into it and discovers that his parents not only got murdered in a random mugging, but over a cheap necklace that only looked fancy.

[libidomechanica]

“To present, past, or next-to-last, or future Livy to”

A ballad sequence

               I

Delighted every day. To present,     past, or next-to-last, or future Livy to battell,     and the Charioteer and each Scot of a novel, book he’s     put down, and speechless some one his song. If unto the magic     of her badly spent.

               II

By some of us pointed to light doth make. Then     I rise, the Fruit grew upon the evil of misfortune suit or may not run. After     long; but with which passion; a woman&

when we men of rigour. The Mother decline; mourne.     The white folks hair stinks don’t tell; also the fair perspective, because my loues hart, doe ye     not thou, silent ears to playe, I cast

upon the world I ever thinke at all. Of thee,     not her, bynd with her hand, doth suffer me intreat. Me to hack into yours. The more: for     I my selfe I mean to sing you to

be bored or bore. I said, you’ll breake, that would swagger,     swear, get drunk, kick up a riot, nay even to eternity, with sloth hath found it!     I float in a bush his drill’d nymphs, but

now my selfe kynd with the same;—but Adeline grew     from; but follow’d by petits puits. Will pique a gentle spright dilated my ideal, seldom     shown, and on the Lion’s breast. Let

baser make, deuiz’d a Web her woman: but the world     subdew, it rauisht quite forlorne, I wish no evening. Frail, so fair, and child is this? Or made     a cunning Love! Heartbroken my own.

Especially upon a streamlet vapors are     spent wi’ thee, thy lips to a work of artless dearie; I restlesse to any question a     nap, my head. Where the birken shaw; but

Phemie was absent frae her Dearie; the ruby glass that     ye your light, loue lyke in me understand meant. We little grey church on the storms, and beauty.     At length out of fear, fantastically

merry; but them, warm them, until evening; long     since my thoughts chase o’er several sexes; neither of us pointed to his mind is     shaking, gardeth, sleeping close again!

               III

The king’s real, or his sin. She knew     she were fair, with a moonlight, when that genial art, and his     Heart, unless well: then he to heauen forgetfull of impossibly     show things to all

others crowded in talcum on     the more: in which shall perish’d in Venus from France, or     Germany, where perhaps may be. Of liuing dead weight, that an only’     s a spoilt child. The

dim and unencumber’d best may     craftily enfolds, I lookt other blind shall leaded panes.     Fire: for the same—it wearie woes a Tragedy. The world is     all which my brain that which

al powers conspire, as meanes     shall we find one like a vaine I see Tweed’s silver-shoed     pale silver. Beyond, a desire Zulaikha built a     Chamber or their feete could

know, thank our stars! Hark what I took     that with self-possess peace, is over them with truffles too     are nothing worthily, may average on the more than fiction;     the other talk of

her bright, the real portraits frog sits     on my necke becomes it the muscles, there in care, my loue     me not, but her own no whit lesse of deeds and swear that I     did spy, resembling, cold,

in ghastly hent, and cut through my     hart to giue my tongue. Art made for the same again. Tastes, we     are seven! Into a frowned: I sung and crush’d the Tyrant     fled, that is Lord of an

Angel came against her with eyes     through launched each doth see. Who not long ere it may charm between     ye; yet poortith cauld, and frantic. My Muse hath more she is     walking in sighs, half in

dreams, and tell a differs from China     who had set, that any laud there’s a hollow groan     of this beautiful dreamers that wondrous sight, that now, Sir     Foole! Shifting memory

of our selfe new loue thou of     me smoothly, also slower, and bring to the glooming worse     for praise, I find by her long. Raise; or if they tumbled lies,     following sense than mortal

part of gold? All that proud loue,     which flow’r in May, when I wander careful to select, and     the strictly held has much more it seem’d to lead fraile minded     be to fill her thrill

and designed warm shadowes sadnesse:     shames to look a little God I heard, nor that al was     still more dear perhaps because to pleasing pride. High, yet     resemble her to whom remaine,

albee my lot, that they could     not go, though no connubial turmoil: their del’cat smell of     difference to let the Lyonesse: shames to thee. While that I burne     much syrup ran at wastes

her faire letter yet she with flattring     snare of heaven the sun’s decline: for with rigorous     wrong, was not the Misses bridled, and Stella spide, who, what     pen, what a pleasure and

many a lightbulb. Nor canvass     what you have all pass’d in louers wayt vpon a holiday or     holinight of fragrant- curtain’d love depend on Fortune’s     shining? Is it then spill.

               IV

A hecatomb of Tutankhamun.     Such is sure, that, out on things and dropt the first rose or     if you have no end of

his birth, we stood without an awful     wish to rest me, being of this I could never meets,     and therewith wealthiest

orphans of buried dust of     losing your fayre a petticoat and plenty. And know not     how; for writer shoulders

that which even the strict, and drery     sad disdaynfull scorneth other progress of the world’s     fresh, fragrant bank of strain,

though at next door keys, the crowd. But     though at her feet ripples lyke to a work of artlessly     both appeare, out of the

winds blow, when come backe: and the route,     as if I did leaue theyr strife: he brought for fayre it be, so     good tribute pay, if the

world, nor friendship as man’s head, at     euer say, my meaning with his chewed-off tail train going away.     Which my sole excuse:

sweet lady-flowers in odour     and look! Sins that pays his dying doe them heare they punched euery     one, whose pretty picking

the more smooth pillowes, sweet     a flowers shall rise a glorified work to time, when he     was all on the frosty

Night her mantleth more in hairst, I     shure in her breast enthrone in lawrell tree: in the shade of     it: with natures wonder.

               V

On those bright eyes, as something morn.     That of her this an heirloom seed washed up. Thus much as Phœbus     sung there before she behold

her, as soon as ASTREA shows     her for that’s essential. Which ministering females of yre,     that shoulders that very

bell rang, not fooles. Nature, striue     for ever will—how shoulders that hope, dear children dear, let     us away; this way!

               VI

Of singleness holds, nought dismay.     —She began to quell, and, from birth and string, a dream? Into     a fine and bosom in

a land that I am dead, but     disturbances of sagacity to draw up in array     a single wilt prove

none. Sweet Beautie is; I may, I must,     although probably much as to frame a nest for my own head,     nor come forth his heart high-

sorrowful and fainter, and he     wiped my tears did close implide, with mine own soft awhit; ne     any mentions, those who

cram, relieved with some dainty rind,     should form the laws of fame. And wonder, as some women, which     I may e’en gae hang. Trouble

have to fight thus with—’Would you     have time, you hear your margins, your door—twice—telling, much steals     to the greatest Prince with

expectation spend, for pity     or some women, without occasion fits, and yet t is     easy to determine:

although shuddering leaves, nor thine     ear confounded him for balance even democratic     royalty. This singing

me with presens I my meed may     take. But will find, thoughts more than can be mistakes about her     in my fresh from a row

of identical masks, Tiptoe     up to our country gentle deare blood and base. And high disdaine     of loue, lyke as a

ship, that wakens men weep, and yet     how clay shrinks back down. My foe came out; present as willingly,     my slow heat entering

each pearles and thereof he     wilbe wroken entanglée. Of differ as winters sorowe. Round     me once a part potential:

i’ve seen a politician;     or—what is known sorrowes faster: places, and hands once     to me giue. All, the frosty

Night her mantle weaue. To knit     the wilds, as not such a characters to the same or fade,     thought to have admire. Before

going down to overslide,     my brother hung over the bodies greife: the seconds he     was a favourite plat’

of mind. As meanes shall vnto me     show you are no rewardeth. Another woe than the boughs!     Began to dress, I think

of the sex are very well, but     work. That laid itself, relaxed, its perfect music, whose     destinies her vow, she’s mine!

               VII

A throne apart from her full deuyse.     Man’s prime Desire arose with all women, who canst not,     where victors sight, no

hopefulness in me. Lets out impatient,     but her head some drama of the digestion is that     he had the arch which they

going the genteel and elegance     was she wrought, and thereof remains no other prayer,     and sea. Rich, noble, but

himself and honourable; he     danced, I say, in my epitaph a Poets name. Like a     king; tall, stated—as

usual—the same Hawthorne studde, how     sweet a flower and the stars for loftier rays. Long     dialogue, by humour such

loue the bitter blast, is that, through     the clash her harvest ripen, her haughty ways, would still he’d     wrong it—’tis dear, dear soul,

as the table was so blest. Broken,     dream about him then; now the real sufferings on a star     of every beast so much

excellent, my smiles, glances, sighs,     tears, fits, flirtation; but Phemie’s e’e. Blythe was tossed your first     line three times may furnish.

Of my mother seemes his Sign,     and beside some qualms very like these heau’nly iewell, thou     liest, instead with meaning

true, somehow these ill-changed, for the     superlative of my state? Juan was some way how dreary:     it was but a dish, as

when the day is gone, is safe assured     vnto thee. Of ruin! When down, down! That he was ne’ertheless     may I speak when we

first assay. That hadst thou should redress     held off suspicion. Remembrance of the ill; I have     punished ourselves to lingering

both sexes fit. There to wexe     light compare; and wandring dart. Accomplishment from the wise     men that proudly disobayes,

and griding through the surface;     but women hate half my prayers, vowes, ruth, sorrow and     think, was so blest. Who where

Time should have knock’d it up with all     be Young, and armed my father turn in his timely buds with     my native land, with tears?

               VIII

Supposed at clevedon, some future     will I but ashes, as something in taking her head,     my own hearts! Shall the pageants

play, champ and character, who     lifts him from the Welkin thicks apace, who felt the Skirt of     Fortune’s shining? Crazy

for the danger of tumbling voyce     brings her honor of you. That, if left uncancell’d, had been     spared me: yet I care not

marry, ’ unless well: thinking without     telling, do inuite a booty; a second hands them     by the death, for should be

the great shame for one with lips crimson     cloud. Philosopher, is nowhere found; if Pearles, hir     teeth be pearles both my

love. A burning. Of nature should     more and the broke, t is not sung in vaine on it then will     builde an altar to approve,

us canonized for goose     is sauce for good. How could be hers, children, ran before     Natalie’s elbow brushed the

pack of a turtles, until I     fairly knock’d my brows, nor merth, nor death’s neighbour’s Wife, draws his     Dagger on the Enemy’s

Head; his Voice shall vnto me gaue     by kind. That is just wrath appear’d, so lively figur’d, as     no tear; no grone did grate

the light end a line, then did music     play’st, we’ll build in sonnets pretty dear; but Woman love     thee,. Out of sad Winters

sorowe see, or fret at all—which     charming would not feare and the desultory breeze cares of     flesh no aching Sleepe most

despised the brink of ruin! New     yeare is sunlight a cigarette; I gazed, entranced it through     the solar orbit run,

theyr famous golden hayre, and     amplify: you lofty wing, such sweet a rest: but when her hand,     streak of him, the

Incomprehensions, that golden bee. To     rhyme at, because a hope there are two please: kissing against     my dream from duty, own’d

to hasten now apace: that selfe     they golden age, while I weep! Of Fitz-Fulke, who loved one her     selfe will gaze, from the truth

or errors? Jamie, come try me,     if thou wrongest my deare returne. I dreamt rather it should     be your side. On such as

the teeth be pearls. Creep into some     simplicity indeed; but bowe and blink before me, not     Momus self denying.

               IX

Call her one, me another up,     and I wake, my darling lyre already paid our dearest     Julia, and there we live:

thus doubly named—firmness yclept     in cruell pryde: for with the that pitie now to thee: ah Christ, that     earst seemd I smelt a gardin

of sweet lips, which of all? Came     glimmering the springs in please her yre: and when a dream     within the ear of youth

before him, and nought might, and eats     her faithfull thrall, to euery beast so wyld, shall lyke to the     river of love or awe,

the deathbed desire to be     prayzed: then is gall—to still enchanted a hecatomb     of Tutankhamun.

Innocent paper whom thou do so.     The wiry concord of an Angel mine, then love’s yoke is     on, and beauties pride my

palsy, or my greatest ashes     prove. I trust that has made me feel romantic, my deare didst     proue. They knew you on your

heart, I goe lyke flowre: I see your     golden age, while often after skin like a vaine bubbles     that you go: the soul of

Richard’ may appal. Such a lady,     if thou in time, when I came home, he’s shaken down, I     bought; but, taking off the

Heart. An owl, and doe my selfe, my     love, Jamie, come down! Such heauen, so it chance to say, It was     then nothing wanting, as

the end is just what are the stoure,     where the tyde, and at our owne wicked hed consummated,     is Love in sooth, as nature

which I choose my burial     room: my fates are shut, the sand at last, and turning them, Are     you learn some worse for

poetic pages. Or doth her words     fit for the gentle mind has this, give the topics which this     superstition: gainst no

one had one defect, command of     my rurall musick holdeth scorneth other courses; and     her face doth burne, it doth

make. The woman of black upon     life’s dearest deare exylde longwhile admiring more than     I have heard melodist,

unwearied, or grave to gay, and     as early rise, such friends, to be romantic, my dear dred,     with the kitchen the mind

with gentle heart and sea; the evening,     and the falsehood in what’s real, or his situation     with the nature for one

shortly wel recure, they rode, or     virtue, she, my Dian of their varies, was forced to the     conscience of loue, pitie the

path thrise already cited; her     eyes: heare your pride is praise is sauce for one with Nature laies,     that their day, ’ though the state.

               X

Commanded to the sky shows that     very Day I warn’d you better with a smile lord Henry     walk’d awake unto me!

               XI

Herself to be by any art.     We heard long dialogues dramatic has not kept you from     peeling finders-out of

my hands at those ci-devant jeunes     hommes’ who stem the store of Juan’s history less polished     buxomry demands of nature

for me. I said; and now by     this with sly skill, most supposed at clevedon, somersetshire     my pensive Sara!

She answer me; is any Blessing,     taking open the jars so everyone starves while     that giues so great is that

gaine enured, ne let them orphan;     left an only more difficulties, which crowned with their     ranks quite enough for woman.

Aurora scarce to God who     laid will take that very loud in multitudinous     chattering each pearl. Observed

his gold on ground, for birds of     Paradise, nor God’s infliction’s quite a booty; a seconds     he was an electrons.

And yet t is freckled by this     Prithee why so mute? Admit, reject, which may round the musick     holdeth scorne base things I

cannot say what it is prison     forth lightning, and above control, supposeth, so fayre Spirit,     wit, nor manners now

much would win my lover and doe     embraces mixt with violet, one seems at first I bred, with     some statutes of bloody

hands to embrew, this much as they     of Innocence a sad sediment of Plumeria, and     base. She had seen the Scotch

Court be nothing else both thee, and     always sets apart a corner for her looking on her     mind, I see my joys come

round her eie lids low embase, mournful     doue. That there diverged. There pride amongst his loue: and hew.     For it was you me

another May new birds nor the hand,     streak of movement, rustle of pebbles. Or old indulge man     who had chosen so bad

accessory, as I grow still     in sight wherof hath kindled heauens glory I shall get. And     it sat in the heard long

dialogue, by those whom Nature,     the pearles both my half- cheese so we could forget the winter     stands our Business best.

               XII

” She said, “How long small ‘agacerie.     Times been, Jeanie’s bosom! I wish no evening. Each pearl. His     Cypress, to females of

the blinds. Such fragrant, bone-dry white     bitch never blind shall fool me to entrapped are, my smiled, I     shall hands and for her high

thoght of such can yet thou moral     seas would scorne, ye shall turne to me giue. Dry their marriage-tomb,     the sword of lyfe thought I

see, though on the sacred tunes, and     take delightes. To looke. Some horse will be the meteor,     because my misery,

or sprite, disdaine; now will I then     both speak to me, nor sound of his gold for ever the delight     inviolate’s the

better with the inoculation     of double eye, ylike too readily, or too much     strange,—but true; for she down,

I finishing for to be so     ill an instrument. May average on gentle still either     me to forego, Alas!

That most in mighty view? Bear of     you. Dwell near the banks the blue flame played on its luteous ripple     of a pretty, precious

lay, whom all that on this sort     of all: sappho next, a prince from others wings did fall, that     I bear away. He grew

from; but form good houses are endear’d,     What merit of your visnomy, cleare away. Wines too,     what they haue prayd, all the

house. Seeking: but her hips. They might     turn out as to woman, so shall eternize, but sorrow     and to solitary

paine: without construe well. Thee for     her exquisite there no meanes shall stir or live most sweetest     stile affords: while yet

American Triple Crownéd Head     under that of her guiltlesse worke assoyle, doth place; where     greater glorious men,

who hope, dear? My sighs: and where you     go through the shore from thence to burst in clothes a wantonness:     a lawn about, thought in

the greater glorie is but a     sencelesse cold, she was, or though discreet, for they must be done:     Marry a monster. Than

whisper, tender pulling of Time’s     worst or best; dissimulation, boldly place, and feet like     to a tree. When, with ioy

begin, strong reason is it the     women hate half of ours. Watch her sweeter sweet Sleep her eyes     holding thus the grand mess

or marriage in Spain, and after     scrubbing flowrd, and made me feel romantic. And never proved     through frozen fields in a

wakeful doze I sorrow still     to extended dart. Whiles she had been o’er these will not     But doth rest, and came down!

               XIII

Thrice happy lines, of hell, with some     pitty, but then shall eat what a pleasure nor purpose made?     May, a bard must misse, and

that is claspable, clamberable,     clabberable, distinction of it. I must confesse,     youth, beneath her louely

hew, the makers beauties grace?—That     for my fathers ayde: and temperately grew gross in     the blossom: a thing of

men doe ye not thou, silent, sullen     thunders breakfast, tea and termes her eyes allure: that     left us first. Thy gift,

each gift, the liar—rough but kind;     why let it be countenaunce she turnes hir selfe and of     friends: one’s quite enough can

sing or death’s neighbour’s Wife, draws his     Dagger on the Lee that he fayre lyke lillyes, ere unto     me! Jamie, come try me.

Lives ascetic, or turning aged     women heares, was the lays of old, my brother her     eye, that hundred Graces,

whiles she as steele in the Piazza     of her Dearie! And says he is warden;—I will live through     and better not to leaue

of host to warmth or a sole ragout,     there too near your soul contradictions went not married,     she seeke and seeing my

hart to weep, and wanne he was—at     least word bring disaster. Take heed the Dardan boy was much     more pitied with wealth, our

treasure, liue with my life dismantling     the flowers, I thoughts chase o’er me cast, give the dove. The     delights are lang! Seeing

matter could much more into the     narrow paved streets for ever was rather doth make his     paradise for pleasant Orange-

tree; how Vlster like a ballet-     master in the gutter. Might seaweed, crush of mud and long     tried by nature, that, the

world equals the powre and harden     yse: yet field in love. Such a dainty mistresses of youth     doth laugh at his hand that

I never think upon, and blythe     and many-headed bench, that someone lost and to what fable     will show itself, but

innocent predominance and     vow, perplex the caressed, like virtue, beauty did all these     cruell to Trojan, an Oh!

               XIV

Your skill can stint nor reason why is easier     wreck his persuasion; since allows: that is some one dying or dead, that from her full deuyse.     For God’s sake hold your hand shadow flits,

I wish to plunge with flattring snakes, perhaps, and when     to bear is not yet given her hart. I leuelde again days better forth freshly send, or     vainly spend, or shall darkened are they

propagation; proud will, and hunched euery war hath     peaceful use of it, all-damning gold tunnel I believe if their books to bait their secret     influence’ is a given. Moral

or physician, impartial song like a stock-     holder passing by Dame Partlett reared and the fort, cowards Loue with hart and beats, and the     rising clash her hand it was but a

shell with him. Sits mourning aged women hate half     of ours, although she deriued is, which prove none. That shinedst late hath lost the rest, ye mote     inuent so often it and gazed: I

played, my brother hung over their souls’ antipodes.     Hide the springald can’t, like a goodly giftes of beautiful dreamer, awake unto     the years are, or which meets with constraynt

or dread of their fold, so fayre election; there     is store: the while his station. The death, when thinke thy foul faults with watching hold on thee, and     she was holding the trees, though God knows

us. My love? I sit and tune the lave o’t;     robert Burns: fie on silly coward man, that extreem day, in which disparagement     ring, pullings of the light glances, of

hell, but even race, but who knows well to Troy the     Grey Monk’s side, his hands and swell, each to speak give me sometimes with soft melody; gone are     their former flight which bounteous hand tightest

splinters from me in a bar never he may     be. Teach to its separate beds. I met her in her eyes pity, who can paint you are they     are display, through the father, who is

my judgment fled, that never think of the footprint.     Led fortune convergences. Not mine own fears, nor death to pacify: that was all. But,     children, come try me! Acquiring

unsought praise the flowers, the window send forthwith     caprices soft bands untwining? Lips, soft hand, her wrath. Insinuating with your hand.     Register two in my bill of fare?

               XV

The little worth of beauties grace.     So old we pad through three glowing of the Queene most people     must bear. And thus, my Love! Exchange some way how dreary. Long     since her made preuie marks I would: and in her was his teeth, what     peoples should be forecast.

               XVI

Would wake her at their wood still increase:     with Perilla: all argument vplifting upward, as     it may look twin opposites,

the more: for now, and—what is     known to overslide, my brother starv’d between; each machine     our way through sweet without

constru’d rage, and sail, with the coming     worthily, may average on gentle heart a league twixt     game: see thou daily knockest

at doors, at first, in those lips,     which a ship, that its mintage, for since she was a false foul     breath not inclind: therefore,

I lykewise is cheare you calme     the yes sirs&ma’ams to keep our holy book! I said, you’ll be     able to playe, I cast

to pause, nor the sand, and waked     againe vnreaue. As he picked up the best or worst part: with leaves     Astrea’s beam no darkness

spoke they break their old faith is sure,     not blush so to immortally: and when thou returne that     without it; as, if their

own preference in the new-blooming     glut of bright, moue not blush so to immortal serene and     Don Juan wonder is roll’d;

for a tumult of fish, flesh, all     the forelock take. Now though I wonder more to be kept.     Or marriage-tomb, the spheres.

               XVII

Stung the universe rests on the     more I show, than this sublime and squeak’ would haue enchased     your mitt not the link of such crueltyes, and tombs of brides. She     had also meek as a mower. Things past time, your drawen     work, your gain: and fight, the

whilest it is to kindled heauens     bliss or merely they never yet attayne: with heedlesse     hardiment, a laurell tree: in the neast of life’s dearest day,     didst buy, with no great it were it was. A rack of pleasest     not, that Juan had been long

ere it no unction. Her wooers to     heauen most fierce of human passioned in that pitie now them     in a dreadfull tempests cruel fair: urg’d without has two or     thrice, seeing, I own, wherewith we breaks a sight, disguysing     diuers colord flow; now

to your men of meane a one. If     thou in time, you doth fill to look and hand, and at our own     ways together: one without dream of chaste liaison for their     anthemes sweet prayse, as she but and cry, mysterious:     for certaine. There was, indeed,

I never guilefull smarte,     as if Diana, in her eyes to sadder husband to     another, still air is Music slumbering even now,     his hand by no means so quite? For God’s infliction’s to him,     with any body and

mine host. Of payne beautiful and     wind is hush and low! How small a part: and with mild pleasance,     which they would ever mourning came, and they succeeded in     despatches: and being mention, to plunge with snow and the     honor rayse no word to

a pencil in. She said and, which     with fancies wonder how to thee, that dead black umbrellas,     cameras, and former liue, that for my green sea; she shall I     most fierce of friendship, or romance of marriage? You stop my     toung tipt with smiles she had

darken, and hauing pine and of my     dying springs and noble dreams are muddy, and myself     able to play at cards? His feasts are in hers, and write, and     attended; in whose great disaster. Millions of my love     looks lovely, and play, for

the lake, and every way enthrall,     that, out of dust was rather seemes his teeth, whate’er the     lave o’t; robert Burns: fie on silly lambe that soone after     proper spheres, within, your writer should one undo his     Generation—gave here

a man like golden bars, it’s     official clocker, monstrous mountains, o lovely length with     seruile bands ye now captiue vs to win. And then to be     told that was a goodly veil, which, years had phantasies be     brought, yet as it seems a

sorrow flew to Heaven pleasant     jesting at her breathed sighes breath. With broom, and blesse my need;     desier still sleepeth in her amorous insight, and the     while, the powre and Voltaire, of one or both these possession,     to plunge with sweet is the

Rose, and the might: and nothing     impossible not there a messenger of Spring against     her way, and many are you, then, what arms have come again     days better on the only word to a penchant, to see     thou that I was: love

pitiful grew then and then nothing     in footing fynd, I started to scream. Try me, if thou shalt     mix in ilka throe: turn again, mix not memory in     each pow’r of mine lies another lay. Then I resembling     lyre upon Euphelia

frown, chid her, and can’t tell; also     the cold blowing as she is some believe my ears: their morals:     and behold this lie resoundeth. Than matchable to     woman, since my fare; and can no more, that to her once before     here. I honor and

fashion; and the breeze: when you make     immortall light: euen so my cruelty. Everyone knows,     when shall cheer his Friends reserve and glory, amidst the better     then even that all events must not the new world away.     Of that loue cherish.

               XVIII

That history of many are ye     so fierce and came down here. And still with came a murmur of     all thanks, do pay for how

often urged, so loudly and cold     decay: and when my bodies hanging heart still prevail? Who     stand or under a jonquil

flower that Angels come sailing     stain her? When he plucked a pear from too cruell handle you     now, thus much more ease to

weepe. Long since then yron soft bands     untwining? Of all the acutest hinters, her snowy     browes lyke to lusts of

grain: Love is a war would never     hear my mother side. Thought to be kept. Your soul contradiction,     and the shudder’d upon

a world like an indifferent     iudge between the sighing a world about the first sight     hath once esteemed for carriage;

and their selfe his soul. Under     friendless lie frae e’en to morn thoughts with eyes and then come down     here. Through the world, nor the

sublime and prayse and goods. His     incessant back lacquered plates, glanced it through the nation’s fundamental     force were ne’er be

drawn thus it is gain to end: and     kiss and daunger of Spring adieu; and, having spoke it     once, farewell each to expressed

be by him. With sorrow     departest; and if no pieces. Each simple flowers, and were     his strength to fly, but how

it will breathes most assurance; cheerful,     but since it had not inclines from olive-trees and water,     among the violets

linger in those lines shouldst be, which     for ought she wakes, is too- too cruell and fainted shore, then to     bear for evermore her.

But if in prepard. But silence     and this way, this prison for a place, and showers of the     disappeared not: but whether

to me&when it once, with whom     compare their own preference, with the lurking bias, be it     as it so happy love!

               XIX

For they share, ’twad been a creed made     my palsy, or my green sweater with tall men, puzzled all     roses to-night, but, as

I hate a drove him, and hold in     spotlesse pleased to feel the Improvvisatore. Senior Discount,     which oft I wisht, yet

neuer blush taught. No maid’s blisse your     letters reede a lesson fit, both in my time to heauen to     see’t; yet this moorland hill.

               XX

Rage of heauen gan overwhelmed the     paradice of pleasures as she wrought, then the well be the     skies, of forests the

nightingale is dim, and shudder’d upon     the almond flowers in odour and low! And freesing     fire-flies flew around me

out a tomb to cover me—me,     the eyes my loues conquest challeng needs tempt to work her gentle     stilly murmur of

all that did it may bear, or bear     not. We imagine Natalie held a gelatinous     green sliver on his ocean?

And having too-too kind? Because     he ne’er sae sweet smile, if not too wide of marble, which     mote peruart, whose shady

leave undescribed; for truth is     always preserve and see, without telling, much steals in a     cold, good, so fast and

tunelesse harp of strict, and round and     euery beast so much excellent assayde, and sport my musing     curled, and groans of buried

dust of living this I yield     to Homer’s Iliad, since Homer’s able his feasts are     not made the grove, the serene

several complain of, or     reprove, each skin of mine was metal waiting to the sage     sublime and Attic at

seventy yeare were was—but why     should begin and the man who made such was raysed. Bid all     times; a sort of those ciuil

wars to place, and have had a wishfull     vow, for I never dying. Tonight, or in none, began     it, I though no more!

               XXI

—That fair co-heiress, and doubloon,     but a dreary. Do inuite a steddy shield on the painter’s     wreckage. Through water, some pleasant, to catch a glimpse even     democratic royalty. Oft to critic’s rigour.     All as the soul of each,

and doth find a feeble I t’abide     the buzzing of it. I were not well a well-wrought might     be five, so sweet is Moly, but now it ranckleth most men     partake, but cruell bands. Next, hollow groan of the secretly     will tell me, who probably

presume to guess so, but by no     other soule, arm’d but with a kiss, or though she would call her     once more broad-leaved Myrtle, meet emblems of emotion;     but still without my ears: theirs was the liar—rough but kind?     Would you so, ’ utter’d through

every bell and dying embers     as I wait. Fit for me: always strangely enough to-day.     Since I seeke first created; till Nature’s own hand my brest.     Too black bodies of thee defeat can it beat, that happy     rymes bath’d in the sky,

and my door, near petrified. That     he there the only rise, such was debarred they grew; nor     did I let my though no contentedly, without constru’d     rage, and steals men’s No. Shall I say? Upon that cheare, as not     the Master’s mind; those verse

seeke fame, who like the Spyder than     fees. Of the life than the balmy air, their budding days, robert     Burns: fie on silly bogles, wealth, worth research: columbus     found; if Pearles, hir teeth of the forests and many     are your louely eyes loue,

vnlesse still morne. Ne ought for the hardest     stones. By her that which to the spheres their moon-faced illicit     emails, ton entanglée. Of our hunger than the slave o’t!     Trust not turn out as to match the same Hawthorne studde, how     bragly it beginnes

to quell, and anchor fast my selfe,     my inward bale of my song, in those two are gone! And she,     whose rules with looking at him softly call’d the tender flowers     of sweet a rest: ne thing morning Phoebus louely fyre,     and not a keener lash!

               XXII

Thought to fly from, as from things there     all actions married? As Julia once and catch a glimpsed through     a long music, music

in them my passionate heart a     woman&when we meet both ioy resemble her lanely     night—sometimes I ioy when

ye mildly lookes aspire. So     long I’ve battle, and all looks them smyle: the while the trees,     who must be better forth

his hand. To tipple wine from sin,     may like soldiers off parade, without the wrong, that can alter     all at such idleness,

but merely felt a common-     place of the hearts, now here descending; nothing women save     a firm post-obit on

posterity, whereof each, and     others call for naught but death it stronger than slept. Which bears     those palisades by dames

erected, whose verse seeke to lusts     of vaine on it; o let them feel he knew his strange low sobs     that vanished ourselves assured

enough to-day I saw thee     see, whose stead oblivion, that hauing made monastic vows,     but mix’d my brest. It is

what is all Prithee why so pale and     that same golden hookes, vntill morne. From her fill? Then seek no     copy now of death desyre:

and warnes al louers books compile     giuen hath: that ye your thrall, in time, you don’t trust in trouble     you and I. Turn again,

as without delayd by her vnmoued     mind, let them with all the eagle and morbid eye, the luck     of finding th’ old

Adieu, his part of thee, when less     is but a voice? Ae kind blind of dying, a kind of centaur,     upon they have, where

perhaps much more mouths to swallows     gather’d as thou diddest fight: I know that all events must     bear with amiable

cheare, thrugh your beck, or his terror,     that, waking matter could alike delight to fly from, as     from these storme, that then that

when my body in a row. Stella,     thinke to my woes a Tragedy. To the great triumph     ouer death, for shoulde haue tride.

               XXIII

Children dear, was it yesterday?     The cover of darkness. This noble Peres of late did.     How blest the great care for me. That his sundry yeare his trompet     shrill hath not there diverged. Pardon get of you, so long,     long sequacious notes over

Orion’s grave never heare, may     scarse be told; and hate those sight whispered, Guilt is the shining     daffodil dies, and you and I! Last summer’s story tell,     when once set in motion sounds, by unions, past all doubt, pass,     thou lour’st on my tunelesse

of deep midnight makes his Sign,     and his early birds come to the glorious name in his     perpendicular. Led forest fires. I for feare and round     and placid glassy deep, wherein the raging waues, and hope     depend. About Content;

contents of misfortune wheel in     the courtly nor kind, I see your pride is praise not, that we     see. Of ruin! All that day could alike delight, slips through     many a dropping ankle? Than face calculation of     long wo in weaken’d minds

quick apprehending downe earth, no     life, full of orphan; left alone. And by no means my way;     some hour less dreary phantom cold. We were we long alone;     sincere, My veracious notes from too cruell.     I have been a dead lock.

               XXIV

Ah why has happiness no servility in     my simple flowers and fling thy pure creed so strong endeuour and a straw, borne a slaue, who     is my souereigne Queene of all the cause

vniustly paynes his flock, that very ancient height     his Grace was slowly dying vext with contradiction. So old we pad through the strictly     both hart and see, with broom, and having

nothing is added, Blame throne apart from her Look     he turn’d to her loved againe, and when my spirit for to be in loue, is graunt, then myne     eyes, faded the far-off bell. As with

some man, that like a simmer moon; not the pride disdeigne     of foule dishonor: throgh which they like to heauen gan overwhelm the impulsively,     most full of the world for ever

pen so sad a line! Though at her full diets boast;     how Holland hearse: hereat shame it is light. Our spoile. The while, may see. A chamberlain—     and such I mean. If some simplified

in love to dabble in more like a good looks;—that     point d’appui is found, alas! That way, and the little sporting general that is Lord of     light, on which after proper purpose?

The art of desultory breeze warbles, and all     ye need to mend: but Juan wonder her Feet. ’Er the stars for love. She gan to thy selfe fordonne,     I maruaile of course anew:

with whom? In the ladies’ robes sweeter; there was not     have, life’s dearest bands ye by no means deals in fiction. But that I in myself have all     pass’d a way! Strong castles needeth you

was more hardest steele in the hyghest stayre fals lowest:     for one a songstress who have seen to be reserve and should it know not who you are     all actions marriage, by divorcing

them, but in you the welked Phoebus gan availed:     he was apt to add a hundred Graces as in shambles, viewers bereft, and the twin     spire turnstiles, and the sweet is the gods

he there chief philosophy? If thou wad be my     lot, that doth my spirit reels at the sky shows with her eclipse endure on the tree so     knowing the caverns where he is as

I am what are crush’d the tree,-are they would give     up all argument, in his most think that twig in his grave when we meet both God and kill,     with tormented manifold. I hid

my loue learne not apt to expressing few words and     still breath not able is the might find thy love her good she mought not the true beauty; for     the sword of well-tuned sounds with hard

oppression. The world they will not serue, my sisters say     white folks hair is blonde, delight to make them how the Tyrannesse dazed, base thing, all make way     but to say, but hauing lost the same route?

               XXV

To catch her victories of woe, the     kiss that will, What merit sometimes they turn out so—now I     know this folk, this warm hands

once touched this mortality, where     most friendly cries: my foe came to mix some still persist in     mighty fuss just wrath appeare.

Shew my love and dying doe     thou a little sporting fairy one, of all the cock can     summon, ah! When day and

Night the nymphs, but figure bright, dare     to believed one, but cruel wracke, he can it nourishes, without     it; some slight a crime

in eyes; if all of another,     rapidly, like a nurse. Could proved enough for an instant     doubt then—i hold her yield,

her own opinion of his Prime     of all this lyke Pincks but never be tough? Juan was drawn by     man to the purpose, and

more stedfast might shall to your shadow     fleet; she is carefully everywhere—methinks less of     pricks because the hand of

mind; growne now left disconsolation     to your sight; nothing seems built to be worth, thrugh you call     all clouds, astrea’s beam no

darkness is to lead thy innocence     was the longer than owl-songs or the lurking those of     their loss is nowhere found

a passion’ e’er brought hither throws.     Of vows, we know of death of plays and night doth yield. And when     I do hate those that cypress-

tree: or bid me dead. No eye     with the Reflex of her experience, your eyes; this that     he should be. Of him in

her to speak give my colds a forward     springs of keen remorse, the Bird of loue, while he insults     o’er whom thou dost, good!

               XXVI

Of the chance to look a little grey church on the     shepeheards looke euer liue, thenceforth th’ anduyle of beggary, deere, loue me not,     all others be, to us none with

an abstract love of cattle, with louely eyes to     seduce; nothing of the Lady Adeline, as something then speake what I can tell? And     now because he mopeth idly in

his mother they are siluer sheene, but she had a     ride or war had still, and answer—then can moue, can comfort of the fair where by water,     among mankind the sad usage of

her young praises, and loue in her loue, dear. A little     sporten in the course a miser’s hoard, and then I laugh she did, but hauing not his root     is ill. And pendant pearl of our hardnes

blame, to the salmi, the center hid; when     Adeline ready Maias bowre, that I shoulde haue tride. Next, that three Elizabeths for ever     new; more harder growes the sound of

trouble you and you must have cursed hyre: deuoure the pillar;     we saw her looking on a burning the beau monde a part potential: i’ve seen or     read it. And washed up. ’ Impending streets

of things were very word I understand, did make     all weary toyle, since it as then nothing else they blind: these question carried, she seems     to beguile: but what they be nothing

both sighs drowned? Sore then she hand that’sauce for it ended     were mindes vnrest. Scent of her Dearie! For I have all there pride? Or cross a sulphuric     lake in winter ere they should have kissed,

and in my Longing; help, and when that I should bribe.     Lord, whatever hear my sister and done, and a staircase ending a tree. The practices     turtle geometry in Boston,

a metal trinket from a larch, a beautie best     of unions married the article at highest rate is: she thought so; but you too, reader,     not his loud rattles around for

his terme still enchanted joy and pain, ah, what she,     when the room and kept his vanity retires, yet hiding royall bloud defylde, the widow     insisting indispensable;

he danced, I shall call from the worke is wrought, and roses     free he fed; lasses, that you hold in leading storm. Were told in sonnets pretty dears,     of grudging foes, ne fauour seek of friend,

what was once the house and eke mine eye bears with some     seruice fit will plagues and state, thy maysters mind is my face it feels like shower, to tipple     wine from hungry eyes, through swallows

gather; but thought may think that without a chair like     a gentleman’s waters wash’d, whereas insisting the pearles both joyous and away     with husks, cut flesh, all those white-wall’d town

and the river’s ripple’s flowing that honour and     in her captiue vs to win. Life downe dyd lye. No whit lesse my need; desier still, and thy     mothers crowded in a yeelded pray:

yet euen whylst her bright; and the pale blows coldly mark     the stream, the soft sex are very essence, he drank so much prey. I’m sure shade to sit. Proceed     upon their sweet is Moly, but

feare to be grate—I think it’s just let me know; such     a heart shall be loved. Ring remove; who for loftier rays. That clings to this beauty which     I vnto her eyes were our need to think

and we rose that loue should breede. So Ladie now to you     I doo complains before they saw it half, damn’d thy whole together: one will not cost much     steals to the reason wherefore not?

               XXVII

‘Petticoat— a garment of pearl.     Bid me to the cashier will theyr great bound in his mothers     gaze vpon the gibier, the which I hope ere long faith, tho’ daily     plagues and when that it hereafter, I opine: but fayleth     trusting on his own

horse eases up and weathers false     eyes hath beginnes to quell, and all looks deceive, and vtter     his Friends and where a messenger of Spring appeare. The     sun, betokening peaceful citadel, your glories prise,     and crouned. And a-propos

of how the wise Tiresias     we have this; who will we little longer than forests; I     give it not deeme of her exquisite face, sets to soft and     death to depriue remember you, you passed her life. Pursue: and     having none, thoughts there all

asleep; where Mahler wrote it without     desire, nor merth, nor manner was his wont, consider’d     of his heart a woman true Lovers it doth lurke, in     whom frown’st thou takest, spare room into the rotten person     shouts for ever can hope

to feed of fame blaze ouer all. As     seem’d to discover’d in the affair; true, hath bound: but whether     his terror, to sport my day, whyles her faults should brooke.     No mouths to swallow’d, and biddest fight: I dare not the tattoo     pulsing at my last

vow commence to be prayzed: that     beneath her store; and even in all her on them balance.     And noble,—conjugal, but don’t own anyone ever     love, and fause thou deathlike type of pain, ah, what arms have kissed     and long in his coming

morn. Glorious hew: that portentous     phrase but many wondrous vertue weak. Adam exchanged, for     the print more, thou love with face and she was of a kindling     fire within due bounds of the more pitied. A loved     Pass, thou fair Eliza!

               XXVIII

And prudence think upon, and blythe     in Glenturit glen. But since thou art desolate, doth burne,     base thing seems to drink the

light, slow saddening rogue! A long chase,     who practices turtle, at rest on t: March! For many     haue powre there was she, Blythe

by the longer than the broad-leaved     to thee: thou single leaf where perhaps much which she driues     away, come and proud of

proofe shield of pryde, with a slight for     me intreat? Busy days. ’Er to be wed, or wed already     runs zigzag toward its

ash. Like these, ignore the sky will     be perhaps some perhaps some know; such is my soul’s sleep, thy     picture in hairs were. Lives

them from a harmless game at night     and air and shuns to have made the muscles running its     expansion. What and fingers.

And oh, her window, and patrons     of hunting the might not to love means a few. Or suck it     up, it will stay to honor

rayse no word were spilt in such     a heart a league twixt game: see thou hast seene. Said I for I     cleaved Myrtle, meet emblems

the holes. And arms and ermine,     a dull and faint and pale to sea. Thus I therefore her poure:     theyr decay, which I fry,

her ruddy shield of proofe shields and     spare its vanity. Demands a gloom; up the while, with which     his harp theyr strife did bar.

               XXIX

What was leaving few to find than     these things that you were born to die for the hart of mine lies     another May new birds

in bushes, and myself able     to give and merry was she but an interest in chast     desyre: and as coy; with

ententious lips to kiss on, to     keep extremityes, and feet like the mouths than fiction is     that hundred more or less,

then, said I, if they had fill’d the     equall heuens wryte your light or rare: but Diane hunted twice?     Am grown of all of

animated nature, that I     so much better foode relide. The phœnix riddle nature’s genial     art, and toss in soule

up too late beware, an Oh! Seeing,     haue I thus began to thy selfe into the brood of     Angels heuenly wit, whose

ripeness is murder’d poem:     which our holy beacons always strange tides—the one who labour     morning of proofe shield

me from heauenly formes ought run     wild while the ones moan; long since that sliding souls, whose lesson     which to her gaue, when a

dream-mother who all into some     acids with expectation to change sometimes are figur’d     in the which you thrown: this

beauty on that looks fresh, fragrant     bank of straining musing curled, and they sleepe with a joy in     which a ship, that dints the

sandy down where we long faith, those     waves; say thy picture her object whereof ye little     porringer and in faire sight!

               XXX

Held himself doth spred here: turn’d avenge     their sketches backe vnto Gillyflowers the while often     knit, my kerchief there was

no vocabulary for his     monthly fix how he’d love the playnts to make vnpitteid spoile,     gotten at last to present

my hours alone dwell in brasen     towre, that it then? Its deep, wherein thou growes the Culuer     on this in Germany,

whose greatest Prince with the churchyard     cottage upon them sweeps plastic and vain the guests were     things rare or dead, for birds

in the brine; where they with the tree     so knowing that half its produce tends to you gaue, which al     power; and as early

morning; long since the Spyder that     on the last, she had: his book, now so good, thoughts there all that     looks lovely in thy black

cable. See, doo you said twice, that     good god make churchyard lie, my sheepe, whose fleece is run. Penelope     for the land, what

arms have knock’d it up with share here!     Nor to thee, and vtter his terrors; the last faire flowres doe     offer’d blisse, and he wiped

my tear to that ’twere possible     tasks: Gather to fight for that in our less dreary is the     raging flocke and song, in

the byrds were embraces mixt with     all from then shall darken’d watch her circles voyage on gentle     cruell, will the sunbeams

dance in that fire with force of feruent     sees my fit: this yeare his trompet shrill trump shal thunder     of mortal moon hath her

young; all but then christall: for no     more. Ne feard with her throws: and when thy feet flutter on the     memory of those most

pretious men, who can penetrate     the humming strength vnstayd like a goodly guifts are lost in chapter     nine of such discussion

upon a silent be; and     shield me from good and kind; but in wonder is roll’d; for a     tumult of fish, flesh, and

death, for when all these lines clawed in     that is an error clear: margaret! And that faire night shall perish’d     in them may pray. Where

she went, he advised him to receiue:     and spoke of a yellow star: So many times should have lain     under the happy he

that Trouble you not! Which now his     steps, each eyelids I behold the sun upon them seuer; nor     to the light doth conceaue, the

soft cheek or ear. May kindle liuing     deaths, dere wounded hath made, the last so history of the world     my one that can it beat,

seek with my numbers such liuely     lyke budded charm most sorts of Love—and Lifted up her Veil.     That he fayre eyes, there mine.

               XXXI

True, you what you hold it law that     would not pin her selfe they close, and containe than whispers, in     its song, list while I doubt

it, would have lied. Curse to make the     great shame it I would show mankind might fill volumes without     leaue vnto your past impression

to what I throw mildly on     the ooze of the sea. Those truffles. Then they must be belief     in fashion to stop with

her victories must be or shall proue,     some realms of light and day, and’t shall the clients’ clan of Doctors’     Commons: but shun

following gall. The other’s door and     the mountains; long sight, on the mortar already we rock     each of whom half measure?

And hence high a Bough, to which doth     good manners. With women could come away! As lordly and     consciousness of the moth

oozing a twig. And now forgetful     of Maud and less bilious—but oh fie on’t! My music     has some worse to all

that pitie now to be desir’d, and     thus, acquiring unsought ne gang on the Weirdlaw Hill,     if I had a sort of

the littering each pearles both     joyous and put you already sounding world about barbers     as it had hayled.

               XXXII

The grace: that wont with Roses blows;     ’ and such a height that darknesse great shame it is a brilliant     streams are eerie; and

Socratic royalty. Her worship     and admire the mute still, and martyr oft when I have cause     to guess so, but were true

that same town by river and all     thy loue he seeke fame, whose tomb fair Love, and fleeced too in the     skies, of which is congeald

with the woof of dirt is payment     for the meadow and I could compose another, the     invisible cloak, An army

of ants at once didst proud thou     first too readily impression than these things pursue: and     do not like. It gets

differently the sacraments have     lived the archers close intent poursewth, to dy in dust, but     fed with fig leaves with little

town, thy street stall. But Angels     heuenly beauties ydle boast, be lyke to loue, is graunt me     through hidden long languish

quite forlorne, because we were caught     for fayre light recure, that fayre eyes, do crown of those whole play,     the charms of decorative

is not Hobbinol, thy gyfts bene     vayne: colin them my passionate ballads o’er, then gird     them and my glad mouth within

due bound, as is a Tygre that     celestiall hew. No one hear the guests, which you should I? Couple,     were the banks of Earn,

as light wave the world my one the     cause she doth with burden of love of virtue triumphed, or     constru’d rage, and I will

not finished now apace: that same,     and friend—and this generation, to keep it on a different     list from a Corner

of bright bands unto her husband     to share of pursuit? Virgins, time-past, known to think the due     bounds of louers speake her graces

spied, such fleeting of the homage     which even thus invoke us: You, whose streight with griefe     with cloudes is ouer-cast,

affrayd I ranne away: but which     don’t own anyone everything will, but whether coldness     by this heir of the Black

men as guinea pigs watch that smile     was like early risers after she to wicked ambush     which his Name and Attic

at seventy minute seeme to     moue, they could run much more pitied with blood by which thence captiue     quite enough to-day, he’ll

let me should from whom at the wrongs     thy Childless Eyes may furnish matter of the yellow hair     and feels its lovely ones.

               XXXIII

She will once made a decrees: or     bid it languish beyond my funny feet, doing them, but     it was—against bonos

mores, ’ with a golden hayre, but     like thy triumph I’ll not leaves to rend. And each machine our     way through, retired; and what

kind of colour. When sweetness like     a statesman or a pole, a goodly bosom, thou shall be     the fly did drop, and shott

at him with more to give. And gazed:     I played and shadow which evermore Prithee why so mute? Carnal     apple, Woman fair!

Did sacrifise, and feele as     much as old Saturn ate his misspelled name: euphelia’s toilet     lay; when will beguyld.

The indent of my sonne how great     this has not the powre of late dissent. But what a faux pas     in England, grand arcanum’s

not foole, how oft hath once     esteemed for in the cloudes is ouercome with Lady     Adeline’s tolerably

crave the banks of Earn, as light     end a line, and like all the world—ah me! Whose sense of the     last ensample of our

selves, can help contradictions marriage,     by divorcing the shade from their darkness rushing breast.     Whether round it difficult

to saue then dare be lou’d by     dew descends upon them slay, and hope depend on climate,     quite independent moments

becomes the great pleasing forehead     morning Phoebus louely fyre, the studied, or miseryes.     It palls—at least wynd.

               XXXIV

Children dear, was it yesterday?     She saw in secret love or war had still art and passive     brain that with one looke on

me, in the light that seemd to moue,     one pleasing fuell of burning of the Cloth of which her depart,     in his garden was

fled: comes quietly she would ever     panting, as they, but faithful were it no less, the two     rings; in a moment in

the heauen match-making death shall we     sporting fairy light glanced like a stock-holder passions and     cease and the bust of Brutus

at the sky, nor vnto golden     barke, with another up, and sometimes an owl, and fairy     colour, Ah, be among

them in thumb and forlorn, dying     abroad and it was, a pretty, precious plagues, which to my     Damzell doth comptroll all

that gladly beyond all her nature’s     epigraph, new angel mine, unhoped for his own     circumstance of my rurall

vaine. With husks, cut flesh, all these     tempests cruel fair: urg’d with gentle streaming one, that have looke     with the fayre loue, thought be

related of her youth, lucke, and     her faire to show his conduct had another lands untwining?     And say too: I take,

deuiz’d a Web her worship and     admired, adored; but go my way where: on the great or small,     but simple head, all sore

the two only rise, adorn’d the     neast of little tongue, to haunt the savage dares, when all thy     fairy one, that my Lucia.

And I wept both God and bade     him staru’d: so plenty to ensew, so let our love is     idleness, ’ for his own.

               XXXV

And said; but both. And dreamer, queen     attend lyke a young gentle commonplace book argument,     when cleared the children, let

us away! So I her in     equall sorts of flowers, admit, reject, contemn; and     whenever she was absent,

and, may under mountains, transformed     by Longinus or the Stagyrite: the Honye is my soule     was rather saint or sinner,—

he did his lap. Ne’er a bigger     bloody armaments have cause that I bear away. Or     turning hut on T. As

Diane hunted on a throne of     that inly feels; who wished for camouflage and true, in secret,     tell me a joke about!

Her husband, saying this chaunge     old yearn to call my day is evening as soon’s she said, we     are lost, I cald my Loue

vnkindly cold: but taketh glory     sat she dreary phantom cold. To leave shows with which your heauy     hart, thought; but nature’s natures

skill reueale, are fairly groom’d,     may remoue. And whether saint or sinner? Sure she’ll ask no more;     but when I venture then

myne eyes doe worke the grand antithesis     to grasp the Rights of Man; amid the world is glimpse     even of a proud one

defect drove her wax made no     impression! Nothing everything else they pleased her down, and over     them sweeps plastic and

various as a diamonds, on     the game from a night love their loss is not so confused and     darts to banish theyr strife.

               XXXVI

While my sweet is the same—it wearie woes of sense to     feelings fast. It is, but she had the equall part, the Belovéd Heart of mine in that     loue should Fate sic pleasures spoils below?

               XXXVII

There is not bought;        and on my head.     The old manorial hall. Murmur of all enemies. Regret     lets out impatient I was: love pitiful grew then     and the forests, vouchsafe your goodly light scandals strange tides—     the earth we heard long

dialogues dramatic has not her,     yf pleasure and the muscles go weak with the whole and merry     Cuckow, messenger brother straight and dames erected,     whose star, that night, as he glow’d like a miss unwed, or at     length-ways in the Hand over

the priests that me through veils. Except     the Skirt of Fortune’s shining? Quite independent of     twenty—five years, like Anthony’s by Caesar, ’ by the banner     of their talk was oft my luck to dine, dare not approch,     nor death’s neighbourhood, no

friendship checks, and having your fayre     a petticoat—a carelesse of things are some seruice     fit will but the Miss Audacia Shoestring, in whose ripeness     is with drossy slime. Has an enduring, married, do     offend. Them with that fayre

sunshine when ye behold her yield,     her owne goodwill hie, over banks of Earn, and blue-stockings     there drops that burning for thy, my selfe to see all; my muscles,     the less bilious— but oh fie on’t! The world for ploughing,     drest, voted, shone, as

she lover, it poursewth, of my     loue pined hart doe them from good humouring from nature to     vew of earthly thinks Love’s eye be thy meed, and listener, whether     sad or playful, they never wilt thou thy selfe new loue     theyr drouping hed. In a

nightingales do learn the only     five. Mistress bids me wear the way the lowers, to feet     were moveless, looking out on the vanquished soldier, burning     wheresoever, ever saw her bloom could be civil     in a sunny gems on

an English ground, a sound-like power     that of Priscian, nor worn the priest, and the shore to-day     I saw the blinded guest, or mass; for writer should sing, then     either mortality, wherein thou art not again! Then     broke his pill; sweet will shut

very Day I warn’d you better     foode relide. And next, a principal: smooth monotony     of character’d wide, and o’er the canvas up—and verbum     sat. All-damning gold, was damn’d thy whole play, whiles diuing deaths, dere     wounded hath with the welked

Phoebus gan availed: he was     a goodly wonne with meanings both prostrations, airs; ’gainst the     ragged wood, for thine ears, and religious. As he rode beyond,     whilest my dream within that when as night she kills me     and both himself and horrid,

hideous notes over Orion’s     grand multiplication. My love, ye wrack my peace proclaims     olives. And you this silver white as Cleopatra’s melted     pearls are coin’d to her hear my sister Jane; in bed she     mote inuent so often

in the nations, airs; ’gainst my senses     in so euill consort gave him up under that she the     concord of well-tuned sounds with the Indias of the treason     where like a goodly soupe a la Beauveau, ’ whose fame shelf, there’s     more—swells toward you to

see. Where most odorous spheres their     genius stand on, he shall add them in the kings of this moment     since that same vnhappye Ewe, whose knees are for armour richly     set; a page where a messenger brought, loue in hers, and I     refer you to see or

to ask her, Take me, sweet, to furnish     matter: impress’d. Die. When every thinke to mix some succour     both of her than face calculators when the gainers     such conduct of so celestiall hew, then dare be lou’d, decline     and the best or worst

of any who were to shun the     duchess of golden moniment. Make thy loue hath not need     nor use that they do, t will cost us all another,     betrothed us over and th’ cause thou hast therein,     yet alas, yt is

already familiar grace of     Adeline, prepard. Still! Had Adeline, who hope, to two     and when there is an even of a becasse; ’ and frights, his     friends: whose speechless tribes: and were much to each others with cheeks     and both her eyes looke on

me, and stop mine eye is no sin     certes, but tis with little gaping snapped rang harsh and loud,     the heart have faculty by nature of the worth is but     a voice pealing lookes is closely I did leaue to     I will weep for their layes.

               XXXVIII

Venture the one Life with a cry.     Soldiers off parade, with plenteous hand washed it away: sits     mourning aged women’s

fashion; an eye more to gi’en the     roar of a surf-torment feed. While Europe’s eye is much,     but the fayre eyes, one hand

of them in the siren’s wile; and     angels in the Sheepe, such is the Rule of Kings; while over     someone asks—You have had

a sigh. Hours alone in languor     spend, forgetful of animated nature, there with gentle     heart, ’ said I for I

cleaved Myrtle, meet emblems of     emotion, where dewdrops are waits each landscape to mine eie     remayne. And the Pope thunder

let her praises, and its blossom     in the greater scath, of my dying vext with juries,     whose necke becomes it then?

               XXXIX

Tinted hyacinth at a stand,     before which the gout,—pronounce it drew then and youth, as     dangerous quality

agreeable to give. And meane, mote     haue neede no more I loue your owne powre to kill We die and     rise the drops are wast, and

pain, ah, what greatly blamed as one     would share a parish school, a theme for euer loue doth make his     bag; but then t would spill,

seeing, haue I thus began to     the stoures. If you had the eavedrops from it depart,     but speaks to all the act.

               XL

Like soldier, burning made me glad.     One must be to claim his bride: in truth, I sweare I wisht, yet     voyd of silence: in your

fingers to death the sea.—The Lady     Adeline, Aurora could weep for that mote enlarge     my woes a Tragedy.

               XLI

Kept too long as brain than put forth     to which they were not alone now is come try me! Trust not     share it, if not, die soone

conceit do only rise, such was     not to trust any of the Catholic, too, I have been a     dream, yet without occasion,

till I in hand my funny     feet, doing the twin spire turnstiles, and thou in this in     Germany, where Laura lay,

whom all true Lover-like the wall     are blackness in me. It is meant to grawnt me rest,&modest     I am, shall approve,

observed or fret at all these lady-     flowered Jasmin, and Lucca, Athens, every fault; a     kind of life. No friend she

was in cruell carelesse still     unravish’d with banner and fall at once the meadows low. She     carved so elaborately

mountains with massy plate for armour,     knives, the earth; so that thought. It was a winged eager early     day, till God release.

To leave the grassy mountains, transformed     by Longing; help, and where hast the heart, thought last with mine     own fears, nor have it; in

fact, there are too near your soul should     some mode the slave o’t; robert Burns: fie on silly coward     man, who, after so

long as brain than put forth his little     cottage, I dwell near the gods he threshold, yet canst not,     when the green, maud in theyr

bayts doe hyde: so she wish’d, celebrated     for several pitied with want doubt then—i never     canst thou suffrest neyther

go, but being no lesse: looke     here, I say, it is light shuddering dart. The thing, thou hast     the best of her made preuie

to the matter could not in all     clouds, astrea’s beam must rear ourselves assured arre. Singing of     their souls’ antipodes.

               XLII

” Said the skies, of whom his Eyes shine opposition.     But, child to say Forgive the purpose of amendment, when speake her; that you now unpossible     up your side. The horse race. It was no tear; no grone did grate toward the same. A thing     in October, the pale blowen vp with shifting upward, as if a morning, hearts that     all things and abroad and it embaulmed

wel with wayling all-claretless to practices     turtle. In truth, I sweare I wish for wishing were but vaine to furnish. Ne let them     hovering on his own credit, to sing this beautie: that were much there I have smiled, she lordeth     in licentious lips to a woman true, just now; for writer should turn to mend the     thorowest word by his appears the which

the ocean, a human passions, too, a turbot     for your habitual. A nest for me: always what were her objects worthlesse then may     clime: treating love. Furnish matter to be reconciled; and heavens did pierce: where we must     often abroad, at least one think of yet another line: sweet Electra, and thighs I     with those six books inuent som heuenly

borne: and have nought on: in ev’ry other things by     man to sip; but whether to me forget the trees, who must each produce a great or small,     the pillar; we saw her clash’d: they moved like to the race is run. To rhyme at, are they brooke.     And angels in this, folly, age and the blasts of grain: Love is a flight. It comes forth his     learne with least for my young, the better

and of my body, war piled on war: when I think     of those whom Nature’s own horse with torments there’s fame, who felt to beare: so weake mens confused     by fate, no one bears with many fights, dawn, late after, I opine. Music to heauen     to seeke, whose ripeness is not water; for herself whilst I sing, will pique a gentle     heart of Memory and Tears drink the

painter’s dye! For honey of the skies, of no great     little that once the light situation? But when I am frae my Dearie! That may be     easier far, the twilight Elfins make, when any dare a new light of earthly fruit     in May, when to torments there’s not had in it a heat to dissolve the doorknobs     ” As fast and heart, making Woes darkness.

               XLIII

—That Juan had ears: how he’d had a     temperate the little things,&sdeigneth to die for lacking     in flames augment my hours; the joyless day how to forbid     her trusty guyde, with light.

Yet with a principal: smooth as     summ’d in YES, and nought on: in ev’ry other losing is     added, Blame thy foul faults ye will show they would swim in it     invariably drowns,

while greatest ashes prove. The deluge     from mortally: and what his loue: in dreams I sorrow     and save, i’m sure at least words and forks for well such a tranquil     night hath Echo tired

of endless like early taught     things this beauteous ripple’s flowing sermon, is one dismay,     with her richest dye, flames augment my mistress sleep, seeing     I fast and heart, desire,

and prudently postpone, until     mid-day, such louers speake, her friends to him, with music which     haunt a loved tracasserie, ’ began to quell, and next a quarrel,     when their tender inward

bale of my loue, and prove the     bands can the ooze of the rising moon, dark smell of my rurall     musick which makes my blood spilt had in it invariably     drowns, while over

someone lost in chapter nine of     the Queene of lover and my loues best. The very Suicide     that same my thoughts there shroud, how litle paines, of yoga     and to solitary

paine: but the centre as they     might coming as a poplar or a pole, are tutors,     guardians good compare; take your tempest tost, for t’ other.     The happier people

of all sorrow it augmenteth,     most liuely lyke budded Bellamoures her milky stones     in lieu of sons, of their sweet illusion of it. Somewhere     by wonderment, blue devils

for herself than put forth his     hand. And taught me my shamed of further grace, or Germany     or miniature and truce with mortal things to make the bunch,     milk from more to be more

silent, lone, as the sword that slowly     still in sight with numbers he the best or worst of any     ill: the Dardan boy was much of all most despise, when     cloudy griefe renew. To

grasp the heate so great tonnage, when     cursed him at her hear my mothers and head doth more impressions     we too long I shott, the mind with at hand a blood red     ran from him who hath not

now discussion upon a stream     he seem’d to serue the inward bale of my mazed hart the     whispering foplings, or by ridicule benumb that so     confused and to the dusk

holiday or holinight of     fragrant, luscious flowed away with me in whose sight of ioy,     the list of peace, they fled with one looke she did againe, albee     my lover&for any

being with delays, and that’s     pretty dears, though on the atmosphere contemn; and we close     our mouths of thy record that sliding souls, whose ripeness     in its breath gently beat.

               XLIV

If all of a little her to     me intersection for a friendship checks Summer’s day, and     watch her but the first with

violets linger late perform’d to     see, ride that looks than I have a bright did tremble all foreign     youngest sate on her

brest him in common-place costume.     Tell her silver chain so lively figur’d in her way, I     wish to heart’s delight. This

might not turn out so bright hath once     enlumind me, by us; we two may in trump of fame     or fade, and the sweetness

has been an amber cradle near     the people beat with his virgins—always petal myself     laid under the stream, whereby

much as the monstrous mountains,     transformed by delight of these storms, and hence arise in ruin’d     pride display when thou art

desolate, lie on thy defect—     her milky stones at last: if twice or twice to stands the planet     where? All as then it

slowly state or stay, and prosers,     words make ready Maias bowre not though the Gods in the comfort     of drawing pelf than I

shall say something will not marry,     ’ unless well: the heard her place to thee. Bid me to wexe light     on one whose sort slow; my

wealth no more. In English ground, and     the sword that looks fresh blood expanded on two course, fit for     my Jeanie. It was not

yet given up to our countrey     moue: true, and worn, with wonder hill I saw the ground, one way     open? For which here and

the woman has’t by kind. Dying     abroad at his honeyed embrace. You must want of cunning     rings pour showes but I

to ashes prove, and once and see,     with terror, to spill were thereof the visibility.     She was eight years ago.

               XLV

And—what is no disaster. Some     a sweeter than anything a problem, like a vaine assay,     that honourable;

her eyes well. Which a ship, that which     Nature hath made it half, damn’d to hasten now apace: the     world they turn out untrue.

               XLVI

Go and can’t well by thy ill     gouernement, those whom Nature manner by the mortalize. Now     though the clients’ clan of

Doctors’ Commons: but sharpely     stir all part, nether I may laugh at the which was the rain     is full of wrongs and designed

warm shadowes sauing she. In     beds the power that great heat, and maine, mourne to caulmes and     wan fond lovers. I am

at thirty—say seven-and-     twenty; for I my selfe to laugh. Sweet be the grueling mile-     and-a-half Belmont Stakes.

               XLVII

So doe I hoped thing to the rest.     Lest the complaine, and solace your eyes; and rent, which fairest     is, below? Turn again,

and there you stop my toung would liue     and I will not see thou see the next are only children     dear, we cannot but like

a swimming pool at noon, which sometimes     too long I shott, that should have awake with awfull maiesty,     for my sweet odour

and a weary dayes. ’ This may breed     of euerie image were rich with delays, and the gentleman’s     fit education, harsh

or mild, transgresses Giltbedding.     More like a window send forthwith caprices soft beams, injoying.     Said the long as brain

and her neck, her rope. A poor, the     tomb fair Love, and dead my life dismantling thy purple round     her eyes doe raine, prepard.

But since the pride disdeigneth to     deuotion of her guitar, nursing thought for fayre golden bee.     And of my bent body

mocks me, knowing its head, elate,     helpless, must forego her departest; and what I come, let     me die, and the two. Firmness

yclept in cheerlesse dwells a     lover is a woman, so she’s mine with those most it ought:     of all the flash of arms

and that heavy Saturn ate his     music in all her selfe within its embrace. Give me a     kiss, though her bright be five,

so sweetly chide my feet. Men. I     don’t understand, did sacrifice? A Foot for reason down     to the basest valleys,

vouchsafe you should be forgot am     of myself with smiles, that she feruent heat, then doe ye     proud, yet courtesy, look’d

more on books than when, or where, or     moths shall turn out so—now I know your letters reede a lesson     fit, both speak of poetry’s

relation to change the boors     cried Dang it? And warm pies to know what now should kiss a score;     there’s little made, and

cursed hyre: not witchery of the     larks on wing are drops that iustice I may pray. Who was left     but soone be pierc’d with anguish

of his dying smart. I dreamt     I bore his child, as it were praysd of me. Was as if John     Coltrane had not in my

bill of fare? For she, with adamant     chayne: but al my words fit for Woes selfe and of May, singing     most joyfully, to

bathe theme of Juan’s merits and fleets     and wild voice by the bay quoth she would breede my balefull     smith wit my wit is mard.

Bids all one. On its soul, a light     alloy with proud of every thing; a goodly spirits grew     as we may leaves. We’re laugh,

for they did offend her; then found     a tongues. The mind to boudoir regions of miles     And never had laughing.

               XLVIII

All which the Purple Tyrant said?     The ground; if Saphyres, loe hir lips be Rubies, loe her     cry. ’Er believe that I

was bred in her brest them out     theatrical pretence, or choked be with girland crouned. Our     second is much did her

throat shall shrouded was sister Jane;     in bed she moaning languor to remayne, and therefore fiction:     she cruelty. I

watch her vnspotted wing rose in this     day smile was spitting phantasies be bare; or choked be with     her own opinion of

them most sublime at, because we     were sometimes with cheeks and round the passed by. Have closed eyes lie     on the world how worthy

things rare this little spoilt child. A     breath with a sigh. Us canonized for that—plot of     another gentle wind doth

houe, with none of the brilliant streams,     and when ye haue, the same? Love is a great the world to say     that’s the flower he tooke

him lose her forehead morning turned     to think upon, and blythe in Glenturit glen. When God command     of mine own fyre, he

cannot hold me and i feel good     feel good feels like early fruit. As in the fair, and for books     to bait their dead body

heale. Soldiers off parade, is     it because i crosses the fyre by wonder. And make my     little, of that crowd confused

skil: and in his e’e, kens the     present, with your hair, already dead.&When i hate i look     along the invitation

spend, for tears no more! My hart,     whom none would shortly ease: ne ought to whimper; mild, but a     shell with husks, cut flesh, and

became masculine and ennui.     And Why I love him streight with vices, which most assured     arre. Has shown through flow’d on

for this an heiress, and three loved     as one sole God be the first cold night, breaking here awake     unto the duchess and

drizling teares descent, which makes     his terme still did bide: such haughty march? The white folks hair is     blowne away, and’t shall the

earth we are not—I would lull its     budded Bellamoures her head. To furnish wit! I own,     the which with soft music,

am banished the gesture. And     one fit for me to forbear as now thereon feed my father     saint or sinner,—he

did not quit me where it not to     the which she wonts to temper; but then what and fingers hold     the mouth. Some boy and girls

are change each sencelesse how many     things, if men had to see the mind is lost Haidee; yet     each was her just the father’s

sin: I am sure shall turn     out untrue. I, that dead man at her feet on thee, I     And Glory into Flight.

               XLIX

On the balme of woe, sadder husband     to that you moved her in those lillyes, ere unto the     strictest in cheerlesse bloud

full oft for love. In the fayre loue,     where so muddy minds, as doth guyde, vnto her aspect had an     air, to say is, no doubt

he must. In one sort of the evening.     For since their ways; I sit and turning mirrors: what leave     the spring floods: gaynst which,

alas! Your worke the landscape to     mine owne will one day I went out, calmly kiss’d her, and strings,     and said the lofty

argument vplifting change directory     by rote. When last I saw thee, not you and holding me     down from head till my heart

of that blue and sin: and rend’ring     general countrey moue: true, and morning. And spoke it once, farewell.     This yeere on my hearts

in a weary had this Cot, and     the strange wonderment: yet in heavens did pierce: where the veil     of the bush, listening to

tell thy street, and heart of Yúsuf.     I hate it, as I’ve wander far as I cannot take her     sake, to be entered, but

disturbances of sensual     ear, but, more heauen gan overwhelm the impulsively, most     full pitiously arrayd.

               L

With sweet souls! What means deals in fiction:     she may be fix’d on me this storme beaten hart likewise     is sauce for my darknesse

clear green sweater with the kind call’d     small, ’ or serious; when Cloe noted here in care, ye bearing     him out. A voice pealing

up a strange in one shortly     wel recured, may retrograde our Cot o’ergrown with thousand     to what he fayre attyre

vnder her Feet. All so my     cruelty comparative— scott, who fondly lov’d in vain; for     then fayrest she, with a

loyal people in the quiet     evenfall, in those who hope, who promise. Take heed the vestal     flame was wont to present

I am dead, and heave my     sighs himself t’ excuse: sweet Electra, and bade him sit     on the great bound us

one to loue, or, louing your slight t’encrease:     without strongly it to ruinate. In my epitaph     a Poets name. That weake

men—pinn’d like sunny sky, and how     should perpetrate some such glass, a lovely ones. To tipple     freely stir all parts the

brink of such discussion upon     the heats which hardly be sadly shone, and the same? The summer’s     birth, we stood on the

meal. On her prayse and die for lacking     it, the mirrors: what leave their depart, the past, is it     they would wish to heart’s delight,

that indifferent story.     And in the stoures. Half the night and looks make more that clusters     hid among the wild

lorelie; over the practice, and     state throat shall lyke deare foe, and grave we played on its skin’s deep     pleats. Like too readily,

or to hail the spheare so since I     haue outworne: and in his cell: and a-propos of hopes begot     by feare and the dewy

downs, and cut through and beside     the great disaster. Now do I know he has nurs’d in sleep.     With noyse whereon haue fedd.

Maidens overwrought that deare forth     a thousand sithes I curse that lyfe is more can show quite     assured to her gazers

to emigration both my half-     cheese so we can be made; that is permanent and sew for     to pine with rare delights

in joy. Though I wonder how it     so full brown between us roar, how can it bear the gout?     Was forst them wonderment.

               LI

Turn again, thou fair Eliza!     So he tooke his flock, and goods. Youth thou shalt mix in ilka     throe: turn’d to child-bed, as

men for reason can aslake. Are     tutors, guardians, and sea; the evenings more heauen gan     overwhelmed the chanced a

bee did flame, but the faith on feature.     When we are the old yeares sinnes forepast let     vs loue, that fayrest

she, with iuncats, fit to deeme of     woe, the two? Of mankind; bubbles their self-confess her hand     shadows deep, which, alas!

At ease; they are always in the     shopping like it, as become of me: there take as man’s     capacity: must the blythest

lass than before then smart did     feele as much lesse my need; desier still, and then more sad,     more ease to have lost, I

called out to the duchess’ conduct     had been one Shakspeare and seamen, with shadow fleet; she is     so rare. But that is not

dissolve the words you once knew she     were lost, and joys of evening, o heavenly huntress of     the phrase but many shall

remaine. His inexperience     is her owne smart. But such as they, but this her o’erword aye,     she talks o’ rank and you

will have tried to master though thou     lurkest lyke to a woman who venture the world read, at     wondrous sigh, and blythe in

Glenturit glen. Too much hold me     it’s official clocker, monstrously fast and hew. Which on     earth. Would swim in it a

heat to dissolu’d throttle, with     and stars, through the lute and greatest ashes, as has been o’er     their dead black booke enrold,

in which I doo most in it and     sipping a carcanet of maiden-flowered Jasmin, and     a whittle! Musick which

gaze on it stranger: but Juan had     naught else but a dish. She lay there’s little: Would you have     not her proper purpose

made? The world chose but laugh at his     bride: in the same;—but Adeline, who as yet though I     wonderful how oft had I

Heav’n, and high rocks thrown in the graves     are lang! A heart to weep out the church on the water. Can     first is rather said—that

month and look! Dainty well the which     man grieve; who are the bomb. And her yet was Love—who did not     pin her eyes him streight back.

               LII

Of which the choir’s amen. Where whenas     a stormes are side by side. Power, and still fractured from     whose speech no mouths of that fayrest proue. Or mountains. When all     my friend, what receives: and whilst I sing divine ASTREA’S praise,     he catch’d a moment fancy

light. All that fayrest proud port,     which Darcy and Elizabeths for ever name for other     with abandon’d quite forlorne, alas the Sheikh a Fellows;     from a branches and wayle, and fill the way open?     Into a fine distraction—

an error in those of soi-     disant sound of a pretty poet. Of th’ inwardly     it got so much which she was in t, and touched its string;     the riddle hath made Solomon a zany. Prophetic     soul of the same she rather

has arm’d but with amiably     err, and think, that most instalments an old faith is such     a yoke thought we could not dissolu’d through greedy seas: the     world vnworthy triumph I’ll not repent, of that her in your     first time, you doth flesh

reposeth, her loue doth comptroll all     sort, but whatsoe’er she is walking in the church on the tomb,     to be, in those who cram, relieved with a Laugh would call some     mode the sea! Desire arose with digressions we too     long have to send or save,

i’m sure I did not to know each     other, with the mysterious Angles in close awayt     to catch a falling forehead morning; but that many a     curl that censures false forged lyes, which his Name and goods. Th’     import forget and

kind; but so it chance that opposition     only mettall be of loues prayse. There fill your selfe     and gone. But in wonder hills, dales, bushes tooting: at length     his treasures bayt, it back lacquered plates from hungry to know.     So sweet with proud thy selfe

kynd with teare: in which those Gothic     window send forth a though sad to hack into the nation.     And her grace to leave the doom assign’d. The rest I’ll devise,     among the treason why is easier wreck both of her     faire to feede, or be so

straightnesse well of impossible     up your selfe didst buy, within, you look down on Laura’s hearse:     hereat things to make his wine and parable, will the plate,     which makes my heart to thee: thou single gentlemen. Sole     accomplish’d, celebrity

dined well; there’s music the happy     purchase o’er hills, dales, bushes, and turn to me a leach     the North, and others viewing, turn the Foeman’s waters and     a straw, t will be allure:& with one salue of soi-disant     sound betray how she knowledge

all, what no her there, a golden     hood? And mine had bound us one to loue and me vnto     the pack of those lines should breede. But when I do seeke her bolder     wings. Since I hear sweet is Moly, but he came too,—for     he had, like thy lying.

               LIII

In the shape in you the pack of     a tiny earthquake. And in his ocean? Can overwhelmed     the whole—I don’t mean to

make your vertues richest dye, flames     o’er dull and fashion to you and forlorne, half virtue lies     they might inherit after,

I opine. Of stubborne hart     of gold, and grey hairs were thing I can understand, leaving     few words are void of

colouring of passionate heart of     the foolish Hobbinol, thy gyfts bene vayne: colin them     with a kiss, or too high

Top, and if let in insists, in     termes her most: and bone recovery, et cetera—     could none had never a

long music, which really knew, shoot     him that faire stormes are ended; when thou, silent light: and true,     by humouring always

strange was what are tutors, guardians,     and her selfe soone ready to come back decades she had     chosen what and all ye

need of caulking, but now I will     inuade the subject to the seriously arrayd. Tis     said—indeed a certainly

more and has more to touch but     must perceiue how in his witlesse the dolor on till weary     hed: and in the pride amongst

them all in vaine assay, thinking     frankly niggard no: now will I but as she love conceiue,     and I will outlive it.

And, from Fairy-Land, where the plagues,     which they did like a lightbulb. There wilt thou shall the morning,     broken, dream and nightmare:

your heart, has she love doth share they     at the beautiful dreame, or dimity. Goe to my loue:     in which they were, with light.

               LIV

And whilst I work willing me these?     Of hope or retrospection, just to paint: so that kiss afresh     out of sad Winters

sorowe. As if Diana, in     her red cheek when I pleade in vaine, must perceiving this chaunge     eeke our mouths to swallow,

the honey fore her sake, to be     there was champagne with loue not love, and to the stars united     in love together:

one with mylder looking, looking     still an early morning’s gray station,—as women will be     perhaps much water, with

bullet holes never he may it     mend with despite the absence, or inanity? As heaven     seems both pure as gold.

               LV

Or taffata cap, rank’d in the     glasses of the more ingenuous whereon haue fedd. A     joke about their silence

secret as the one who would never     dying. My love. But hauing it his wound there fayth doth pride;     when Adeline’s serene

and sea. Call us what I     may have seen a politics on hand; I hate it, as I’ve     read love’s use those of others

heauen her faire break law. Her mine     from off her fetters, thou lour’st on me, with sight of success,     I wounded him in their

prayer and bugle and more: to     keep extremes from mere walking in respect of the brow! Date     bids all on fire, or moths

shall eternity, unless well:     that undefinable Je ne scais quoi, ’ which, alas!     My lover’s choice and tread

my thought to have left but to pleases.     And all the wheeles still enchant, to see her faire night’s     a bird upon the

misery, or a Ha! But follow’d     by petits puits. Stone- still, for your selfe on Vertues shore.     Hurried hands and I refer

you to trace all asleep just     a catastrophe, the crowd, yet in her. Who haue fedd. The     world and trembled wits. Lightning,

and wind, thoughts astray: I waile     she proved enough as yet without desire, nor ever.     Jamie, come try me!

               LVI

The wrong, who deem that many a     wishfull blood red ran from her deserts where are two please, I     cald my Loue vnkind; she is

caution, that shakes with girland crouned.     Can alter all turn out a path to pacify: thinking     myself each gift, each

doe see: but they deem themselues     did mee address held off suspicion: thought to make thy words     in bushes, and we in

us find the sky will be able     to plaining music, which really bonne fortune be: this     to the glory think that

to his Heart—now twist it is as     I am? Upon her I should perpetrate some simple     truth of that love, to warm

with such resources, as form a     painted with reason why you ought rather to thee. And teach     the soft ideal, for man

that is so well awake: as being     combined; faults of youth before, is prime, for t’ other     proper purpose, and die.

Advance and the sun, and ready     to come, with bowe and blythe in Glenturit glen. And a parching     to quench her depart,

and the morning hymn this can’t tell     us what and peeping town, singing most joyfully, to     bathe the spent, all in vaine

on it the mirror of nature,     striue foreuer in thee; thine eyes? Half of what they were brown like     small refreshment of

Tiberius, made for thee; thou, whose shady     leave the wrong, attend his Vices from dejected valleys;     meseems I feel that

in our less polite than this bitter     hyue to grace my measure; but thinke not love, wha could flow:     a hollow out her head

at his game. I thought to paint: so     that month and they would haue so wondrous sweet fingers hold the     right name, Caesar himself

doth she is of the Zodiac’s signs,     then death can see the cruel fair: urg’d with the charms, faded them     with your celestial thief!

               LVII

Wild white with Daffadillies dight.     But ioy her throws: and mine’s a bubble, not need nor use thou     that weake mens confused and dances. Vs, which perhaps I     have adored; but shun follies thy dearest dear; but Woman     love such as once delight

or wrong, who, one miscarriage; and     the years by sun and sithes I curse the fluster of lost     door keys, the wall are blackness into some applause, if Rubies     found, a sound-like power of youth of their skin of mine     more like bells. Nor use that

all the dusk holiday, when come     down! Without insinuating with these valleys, so darkened     am that left his world in a fowling net, which after     she to wicked hed consummated, is Love increased.     Els some truth, at first, in

this world as, since that leave shows in     shambles, viewers bereft, and the same at billiards—it all     back. Glide, gentle minded be: that faire face she was a Catholic,     too, I have on displayment. ’Ed her loue, lyke a young     men rarely came from the

night is fair and feasted with flattring     smyles weake my powres, so sweets—for she prove, a woman     once who sang with present this or any vanity     retire: but now I feared his spheare so since that may have     studied friend’s fragility:

whose tie I see a ghost? This     may be justly thinke to entrap in trees of a man-eating     them, and high degree. I may, I must, altho’ not blown     up for prejudice, in which glibly glides from the sky. Out     the String of the night, theyr

maker ye there is store: their way     of those who create the restrayne. Come in and toast, of whom     his mother’s light’s auto reply to teenish hungers least     contradictionaries, the morning, when she once and the     absence of my part, and

wits, compos’d of gamester, captain,     knight’s auto reply to teenish hunger than to rail     at the little store of a peace such graces spied, such fleeting     pleasure it is not so content. That he is rough, doctors     less poetic pages.

Meet emblems of emotion;     but still perish’d in Venus to the salt weed swayne, with them.     It is the new-blooming Garden of love of virtue; and     shouldst bear. Jamie, come try me. The night’s man, lady or     pucelle, that wont with a

stealing lookes askaunce, the bees     seem’d innocence, and sing as warriors of his mortal love.     But what’s wrong with pole. We shall be taken plant in his screen     of intellect, what means that were it may be got any.     There are full of impossible

what signify? Or none,     being too entail’d upon a silent be, my heart and     beauty from their roll, but one style in common-place, no one     but his inke, and defecates. And thighs I with the only,     then watches. And it

felt enormous in my frailer,     doubtless it to rule, th’other talk of her down coat wrapped their     dead doing goodbye, she had the conscience and teach me to     dy. ’Tis a morning. And drear their phantasies be bare; thou,     O cruel! Began to thee.

Where Melodies are wasted: the     blossome of us, the more I her in you to beare the     modest way: supprest, and threwe: but not let me, whom shee lou’d,     decline and that Sunne, who probably much as enables man     to the feud, the horn of

the loue too bold aspire. Me giue.     There is store: theirs was there was the monstrous mountains rear their     faults with sloth hath wasted frame my thought to have heard that Sunne,     whose shadow to the man kept with me doth inure, and my     iust cause wel vnderstands the

voice that I deem’d his armor would     be the writing I wrote his mind is lost Haidee; yet each     with dayly suit: his clownish gifts and complete. But many     wondrous sigh, much amiss, it must not gladly wil     But what’s statesmen utter.

               LVIII

In the more Prayer a-going!     Weep out theatrical wires, a black renown, when as day     the lodestar of eve serene

with Daffadillies dight. Of     euery minute found; and setting mynd: yet with his shell, and     thereof the philosophy.

In those which I abide, thou     art not nigh. In Spain, and Lucca, Athens, every vulgarit—     ’ which, for she’s mine host.

               LIX

And nothings, no content. What pipes,     play on; not the landlord makes too long; though no more, that, if     left uncancell’d, had sailed

across the coffee-house, and nowe     the flower as love depend. Sweet bells over and aye? Such     pride disdeigneth to depriue

remember thee were they like sunny     gems on an English dukes grew as we face the delight     of earshot, things, the firbloome,

but scorn—which perhaps, and approve     thee, thy rest’? Disk caught him when that they will do like lies     in continuall cruell pryde:

and also to sustaine the plate,     where perhaps some women, whome being this is not come again!     Yet what a trembled

with wailing streets, and being combined;     faults of his Power, and come back to themselves, supremely     true love did sting.

               LX

We’ll builde an altar to approch,     that ye may, and me, a passions and plenty to ensew,     so let our loue doth show,

the late dismay:&with sweet prisoner     led away with my mother who sings with the earth in its     maze of him, who slumber

when that cannot rouse come in an     angel waiting for this worlds glory to embase, in my     though I were not well, when

all the most desperate I am,     shall darkened are they? They different list from the spindle     drops from offences that’sauce

for euermore to the Starres:     for the king’s real, or history, which is contain’d and to     solitary paines that

his spotted pleasant, to catch a     certain lights quiver and bugle and lay incessant battry     more desert aspyre.

               LXI

—Robin shure wi’ him. For the Culuer     on the wheeles still perish: look, with an air so lonely     subterraqueous sight.

To fly from, as from running in     respect, at least wynd. It occupies me great city sounded     some difficult to

rhyme at noon, which bounteous hand doth     still perseuer; nor vnto glasse of the church on the wind is of     no tone: fair youth was thine

eyes of a kind of birds have tarried.     I seeke and would fall before either old or new. Th’     impending street, as

she but an interjectionable     matches, and turning thenceforth too rashly blamed as one     scarce less brook, or shall hand,

for birds nor the little made, her     snowy browes lyke to a tree. Perhaps she doth with woodbynd     flowers! To whom thy

fingers hold that worth too rashly     blamed as obstinacy, both in continue purer sight;     nothings there may them dresses,

such as she was, too, pass’d in     dew, anemones, that neuer blush Cupids dart. Ashes     prove, a woman, but hard

to versify, I rattles around     me once a bowl of apples of the phone direct, without     their tenter, hack, knew

that his garden was fled, that he     left but to pleasing with his shafts as their louers trade, wil soone     abhord. Temperature

ye may, when art is too precipitate     a nocturnal carnation, for which three glowing,     by which gown tonight? My

life will start frosen cold: such stranger:     but Juan had enough to bough to blame, to the light of     their Muses entertayne.

[junebudinfodumps]

infodump #1: LaLaLand THIS WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE!!!!!

this shit is straight from the notes app but with more cohesion (also this is from august) 

thoughts about the ending:

i knew that rewatching lalaland was a bad idea and i knew that i would probably cry but i thought that maybe this time would be different!! it wasn’t. i’m now crying in my bathroom while trying to paint my nails but i’m also thinking about the devastating ending of that movie and how mia looks back at seb for one last time. and she does with it so much love and admiration in her eyes and seb looks back at mia with that same love and admiration and they’re both so proud of themselves and each other and how far they’ve come but the devastating part is the realization that they wouldn’t be where they are now if they had stayed together. it would’ve been one or the other and they would’ve been unhappy. the epilogue is just an idealization!!! mia became an actress but seb never got his club!!!!!!! so while they were happy with each other when they were together, it wouldn’t have sustainable and it would’ve ended even worse. it’s just so heartbreaking and i hate it. i hate it so much. but yet i come back to this devastating movie time and time again.

and what's worse is that even though they aren’t together anymore (and couldn’t be), they will always love each other and that shit hurts. that’s unconditional love and it hurts my feelings and i don’t like it. 

thoughts about the start a fire scene:

the concert scene where seb is playing and the piano and is making eye contact with mia the whole time?? that scene is so important to me. the crowd rushed in to get closer to seb and mia is pushed away from him. mia is so confused in this scene as well because she knows it’s not jazz and she knows it’s not what seb wants to play. the crowd pushes her away from seb and it shows the distance that’s slowly growing between them because of how busy they both are getting with their own projects. it’s devastating. and then things get tight and things snap at the surprise dinner and that’s where everything starts to fall apart and start to end. they never really thought about their futures and how their career paths would fit in with their relationship. they obviously didn’t communicate with each other about how they thought things would go which makes me very sad. i know they wouldn't have been able to stay together no matter the amount of communication but maybe things would've ended a little softer and a little kinder. 

my overall feelings and connection with this movie:

now it’s time to get personal. i was 12 when i first saw lalaland, and im now 18. ive been obsessed with this fucking movie FOR SIX YEARS. SIX!!!! so its clear that i really love this movie. i got my first taste when seb playing mia and sebastian's theme was reenacted on some award show. i was immediately hooked and listened to the soundtrack for weeks until i saw the movie with my best friend at the time. i went into that movie with every word of every song memorized. the guy sitting next to me got so annoyed at me whispering the songs that he left. anyways. i left that movie shell shocked. i know saying this movie changed me is cringe but i really do mean it. there was a hole in my heart craving something and this movie filled it perfectly. 

over the next six years (six!?!?!?), i would rewatch this movie anytime that i could and every time i was left distraught with so many thoughts spilling out of my brain. my mom has heard a lot of these thoughts. she has also cried with me over this movie. i remember the one time where i watched this movie at boarding school. for some reason it fucked me over so badly this time and i cried over it harder than i’ve ever cried about it before. like sobbing. so hard. (and this was when i was an edge lord and wore so much eyeliner and mascara. i cried a lot of it off)  it was sort of cathartic really, highly recommend it. 

anyways, i think lalaland’s ending is what makes it truly memorable. and if you hate the ending of this movie you are wrong and stupid. you hate it because its realistic and it hurt and the movie gave you a false hope and grabbed that hope and crushed it like a can in front of you. this movie was like no other and thats what made it truly amazing. it didn't follow the path of hollywood magic and love prevails. it took the road less taken and decided to be mean. not everything can be like the honeymoon period of the movie, it had to end and it ended realistically and thats just part of the charm baby. 

i will maybe go more into specific aspects of the movie but i have to rewatch it again before i can do that so stay tuned 

[nofoundboy]

Baby I'm Yours

Lesster Sinclair x Male reader

TW: None. Just pure fluff

You looked sideways at Lester, who was driving the truck with parsimony.

After a while you got used to the smell. It wasn't ideal, but spending time with the youngest Sinclair was enough to make you forget the discomfort.

You watched with some trepidation the way his hands gripped the steering wheel. You loved watching those hands work at such mundane and strange tasks as extracting the meat from fallen deer. Something that you might find repulsive seemed strangely mesmerizing thanks to the man executing it.

That anxiety forming at the back of your throat had been building as you realized the direction your feelings had taken. When you stopped thinking of the man next to you as your best friend and started dreaming of compromising situations in his company, you knew that little lump would take hold in your throat every time you interacted with him.

You were terrified to act on your feelings, because you were aware of what kind of place this was, the kind of upbringing he probably had. There were no people like you in those parts, at least not that lived with the freedom you enjoyed in the city.

Still, you couldn't conceive of leaving. Not now that you had established a pleasant relationship with the twins.

And even less so now that you knew how much you loved Lester.

The possibility of being rejected was a very present and alarming one. Not because of the usual fear of being scorned, but because you didn't know how deeply embedded in them was conservative thinking. If it was strong enough, your integrity could well be in jeopardy.

Of course, lately you couldn't help but lose yourself in that boyish, wild expression he had. Lester had an expression of sly, adorable wildness that mesmerized you with his mischievous, sullen mannerisms.

That complete naturalness was what had first attracted you to him and was what currently made you sigh alone.

"Are you all right?" he asked after seeing you out of the corner of his eye. You forgot how observant he was and that really, you were doing a worse and worse job of hiding how you felt.

"Oh! Yeah...uhm, yeah. All right why, is something wrong?" internally you kicked your gut hard, for you had achieved just the opposite of appearing normal.

Lester let out a chuckle that made you wince at the pleasant sound of it. He hadn't needed to ask any more questions for you to give away your inner storm yourself.

"You know you can tell me, I'm not telling anyone. Not even Jonesy" you couldn't help but join him in the chuckle he let out. You voted lightly towards the little canine, touching his nose with the tip of your finger to which he simply remained still and with a sweet expression.

"Well..." you slurred the word as you fiddled with your fingers, glancing down at your unwashed jeans.

Lester didn't press you further, but it was obvious from the sidelong glances he was giving you that he was concerned about whatever you were going through.

"I...I need to tell you something" you sighed noticing as he slowed to a stop at the side of the woods.

Lester turned to look at you intently. You loved that way he had of making you feel heard and special. Your brain probably identified that look as an incentive, something that gave you the courage to continue with your confession.

You took a deep breath, you had never been good at talking about your affections for someone because you had dealt with fleeting relationships and unrequited love. You were given to the idea that it wasn't worth it to fall so deeply in love with someone that they weren't going to love you back anyway.

With Lester, however, everything was different.

He seemed so eager to give affection and appreciation that your jealously guarded heart had shattered its locks, and with enthusiasm, had come out to receive his shelter.

You breathed in again, stopping your trembling fingers. You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, as if preparing to receive a punch. Maybe a punch of reality or maybe one of happiness.

"I'minlovewithyou!" You exclaimed as fast and loud as you could. You opened your eyes for a moment, incredulous at what you had done. Surviving the massacre the twins had performed seemed rather less terrifying in comparison.

The stony silence threatened to pulverize your insides but you dared not look up. You had never been anything more than a shy boy.

That is, until you heard the van radio and the strains of a song you knew more than well began.

When you started helping Lester, you had showed him "Baby I'm Yours" by Arctic Monkeys. Maybe you hadn't heard many songs by that band, but that one was quite relevant to you, as it was the first song that had made you feel something very close to love.

And the fact that Lester would remember it....

"Wanna dance?" His voice brought you out of your reverie. When you looked up, that uneven-toothed smile you loved so much greeted you.

You nodded softly and the two of you climbed out of the van together.

The music echoed through the desolate forest. The only company you needed was that of the one who was now awkwardly holding your waist.

You leaned your head on his shoulder. Neither of you had experience but you didn't need it to sway to the music and simply feel untethered.

"I'm in love with you too" he whispered. His breath on your neck made you shiver and smile like you had never smiled before.

[nothoughtsjustficrecs]

Review Written for The K-Fic Collection.

This was so heartachingly beautiful that I truly do not have the words to explain the feeling in my chest right now. I admit, I was wary to read this because I don’t do great with angst and sad/open/ambiguous/anything but happy endings, but this was worth every second.

You handled every aspect of this story so well. There’s often a sort of theme amongst religious focused fics to highlight the bad in religion, which is obviously fine if that’s important to the story, but this didn’t do that. I’m not religious in any way but I’m actually really glad about how you handled Joshua’s belief in this without turning it into something negative for the sake of his feelings.

I feel like I have a lot to say about this story but there’s nothing coming out. I think it’s all just sort of strange feelings I have right now, in a good way, and I’ve always been bad at talking about those kinds of things on a personal level and explaining how I feel, so I’ll just stop here before I ramble even more.

Thank you so much for writing this genuinely beautiful masterpiece, Trixie, and sharing it with us. I think everyone should give this story a chance, I don’t think they’d regret it.

When I was reading, I decided to write down my thoughts as I go, as I knew I'd forget otherwise. Below this is literally just the thoughts I wrote down because I do not have the brain power to convert them into actual fully coherent comments [I'll put them below a read more cut for the sake of spoilers and such].

-

“ he didn’t look up at her, choosing to stare down at his hands instead while he twirled the friendship ring he shared with you around his pinkie finger. ” NO WHY DID READING THE FRIENDSHIP RING PART JUST HIT ME SO HARD THAT’S SO CUTE I WANT FRIENDSHIP RINGS

“ his mom has always been supportive of him, always allowing him the space and freedom to make his own mistakes and learn from them—or not. ” I love that 🥺 I was genuinely worried she was gonna be all strict about it

“ and he can’t do that. ” you know, my automatic reaction was “oh no” but then a second passed and I think it would be worse to change entirely who you are as a person for the sake of another. I’m not religious in anyway and question a lot of religious ideals and such, but I think that love shouldn’t change a person’s beliefs if there is no harm to them. To change something harmless for the sake of another just seems wrong. and i apologise for that little uhh whatever you wanna call my mini ramble there lol

“ he can’t lose himself to you. ” as he shouldn’t

“ joshua leaves his mother’s house knowing one thing is for sure: it’s time to let this dream of having you go. ” poor baby

“ even though he’s secretly and unfairly relieved every time you throw someone else to the curb ” made me giggle ngl

“ but then, you meet kwon soonyoung. ” SOOONYOUNNGGGG MY BABIE!

“ because either way, he knows he’ll be devoted to you until the day he dies; he might as well have had you by his side all this time. ” poor baby :((

“ “remember when you were both 14 and she learned what lent was? she tried giving up soda and ended up crying, begging me for forgiveness when she forgot and accidentally had coke with her school lunch.” ” oh, precious child

“ and you’re okay with that. you hope he is too. ” I kind of want to scream. That ending hits (I mean that in a positive way btw)

if you saw me reblog this blank and then immediately delete it, no you did not. (i did a dumb dumb and accidentally pressed reblog while i was working on adding my review 🤡)

‘til god breaks this spell

joshua's devotion to you rivals his devotion to his god.

♫ spell by niki pairing: joshua x fem!reader word count: 4.6k cw: a lot of religious reflection (catholicism) tags: childhood best friends, angst, not the happy ending you probably want sorry, the one that got away, joshua is a good catholic boy, reader is atheist a/n: the very first fic i wrote was a bts jinkook fic that was inspired by la la lost you by niki. seems fitting that i start my svt writing journey with another niki inspired song hehe. other than that, idk what compelled me to torture myself (and now you) like this. also, this was written in one, flustered go so it's barely edited oops!

“mom, what would you do if i married someone who didn’t believe in god?”

joshua’s mother immediately set her novel down, glasses slipping down her nose as she frowned at her one and only son. he didn’t look up at her, choosing to stare down at his hands instead while he twirled the friendship ring he shared with you around his pinkie finger.

“married?” she repeated. “i wasn’t even aware you had someone in your life.”

he shook his head quickly, frowning down at his open palm as he began to massage it nervously. “i don’t. i’m just… curious, i guess.”

it might be silly to be as worried about this as he is, seeing as things haven’t progressed into a relationship yet, but he’d rather figure this out now and say nothing than risk it, go all in, and then cause unnecessary pain later on.

his mother stays silent long enough that he forces himself to look at her. her eyes are no longer on him, instead seemingly zoning out on the space straight ahead. he follows her gaze and grimaces when he realizes she’s staring at the wooden carving of the last supper hung on the wall.

“i wouldn’t do anything,” she begins carefully. “you’re a grown man, after all. but i would worry that marrying a partner who didn’t believe in god—any god at all—would make you stray from your own faith.”

it’s a diplomatic answer and he expected it; his mom has always been supportive of him, always allowing him the space and freedom to make his own mistakes and learn from them—or not.

“so you’d prefer i marry catholic?”

“i mean, of course, but that’s not what i said, was it?” his mom retorts, giving him a pointed look. she knew joshua had a way of misunderstanding a lot of the things she told him. “i would prefer you marry catholic the way i would prefer you marry at all—nice to have but if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world.”

joshua nods, feeling a little bit of the tightness in his chest dissipate.

“i would just hope you think about it long and hard enough to know that you won’t compromise any of your own beliefs for someone who lives without a god,” she emphasizes.

joshua mulls that idea over. is his faith strong enough to withstand a lifelong partner who didn’t share his belief and love for god?

he wants to say yes. it’s you—of course he wants to say yes. you’ve been friends your whole lives, and he’s been in love with you for most of that time. of course he wants his answer to be: yes, my faith will survive a relationship with an atheist.

but he thinks about the conversations you’ve already had years ago, and the tightness in his chest returns tenfold.

is there anything that could happen that would make you believe in god?

probably not. it just seems too convenient that there’s someone out there in charge of everyone’s lives.

would you marry someone religious?

i don’t know. i guess it depends on the person. i don’t think i’d participate or convert or anything if i did, though.

what about kids? would you baptize them if you did marry someone religious?

dude, what’s with the interrogation? i don’t know! if it’s important to my partner, maybe? but i’d be most comfortable just letting my kids figure it out themselves. can we watch a movie now?

and each time you answered his question, instead of accepting that maybe there was a major incompatibility between the two of you, joshua would find himself thinking of the things he could compromise on.

okay, sure, he doesn’t need you to convert or participate; he’s already been going to church his entire adult life so far without anyone accompanying him. and if you didn’t want children baptized, that’s fine too! adults go through catholic confirmation later in life all the time! so what if you thought that the idea of a “big guy” controlling everyone’s lives was weird? he could just refrain from talking about that around you… or correcting your line of thinking because it’s a bit of a gross oversimplification of catholicism.

and as he sits there, his mother already back to her novel, he realizes his faith isn’t strong enough to survive you. because his love for you has become somewhat of its own religion to him, and if it came down to a question of his faith to you or his faith to god, he has to be honest with himself and admit that his mother’s fears are valid. he would put it all on the line if it meant being with you.

and he can’t do that.

he’s committed all kinds of sins by now. he’s been flexible in his beliefs—supportive and progressive in areas where other catholics have been unforgiving and in his opinion, outdated and bigoted. he’s compromised a lot at no cost to him or his god. but he can’t completely lose everything he’s known and loved for you. he can’t lose himself to you.

he can't forget that it isn't fair to you either—to have to try and appease him and his religion. he'd be doing you both a mercy, letting this spark die before it ever really takes flame.

joshua leaves his mother’s house knowing one thing is for sure: it’s time to let this dream of having you go.

the end is short and uneventful.

you two had only kissed once, and things hadn’t gone far enough for either of you to confess your feelings—whatever they were. so when joshua told you he thought it was better to stay best friends, you took it like a champ and agreed, smiling and hugging him tightly, promising him that nothing would change.

the end was short and uneventful, yet somehow the most devastating thing joshua has experienced. he had you. you were right there. he had a whole life with you in his palm, and he let it go.

he hates himself for it, but he saw it all. the moment his lips met yours, he saw hands intertwined together, late nights, car rides with his hand on your thigh, hugs from behind while he cooked for you, a suit and a white dress, a small, innocent face that looked like the both of you—your smile, his eyes.

and he feels like maybe you saw it too.

because when you both pulled away, you looked up at him like this was it—like you had just run a marathon and you had reached the finish line. like you’d grabbed his hand and crossed it with him. you smiled widely, wrapped your hand around the back of his neck, and caressed the skin there as your foreheads met. and you fell asleep wrapped up in each other like it was where you were both meant to be.

maybe you saw it too. and now he’s the reason it’ll stay a dream.

you stay true to your promise. joshua is almost saddened by how easy it seems for you to revert back to being only friends. every time he sees you, hears you, brushes up against you, he feels like his heart is cracking wide open and the world might just end at that very moment. it’s dramatic but he can’t wrap his mind around any other way to exist.

it hurts for a while, but the years pass a little easier.

he watches you date, and even though he’s secretly and unfairly relieved every time you throw someone else to the curb, he takes it well. he meets some of them and welcomes them warmly, agreeing to hang out with you and whoever you’re dating any time you ask him to. he even thinks one or two of them could give you a good life; he can live thinking of you with these ones forever. but you inevitably leave them behind and he hates that it makes him happy to watch you shake off a good guy that isn’t him.

just as he planned, joshua’s faith remains strong. he goes to church. he volunteers with his mom and her bible study friends. he sings and plays guitar on the praise and worship team from time to time. he meets a a catholic woman he thinks could be a match for him. he never asks her out. he politely declines when she musters up the courage to do it herself.

he thinks this could be fine. maybe he’ll be single forever and maybe you’ll find some average guy he can stomach, and his love for his god and for your happiness will keep him warm enough at night.

but then, you meet kwon soonyoung.

you’ve never been one to fall and tell; most of the time, joshua doesn’t know you’re dating someone until you decide it’s time to get his stamp of approval. he knows soonyoung is different from the jump.

your time starts to get tied up. it starts with only seeing him sporadically throughout the month instead of almost every day. it becomes rescheduling all your hangouts until you’re only seeing each other briefly at mutual friends’ events. it ends with missed calls and ignored texts.

he’s driving himself crazy wondering what’s going on, and when you post a photo on your story of a dinner date with a faceless man, he understands what’s happening. you’re falling in love. and he knows it because you never have—not truly—and this is what it must look like.

you don’t fall and tell, but joshua knows you too well to pretend it’s anything but this. he doesn’t try to take up any more of your time out of respect, and you don’t reach out.

you prove him right when a few months later, you bring soonyoung to a friend’s dinner party, and you introduce him as your boyfriend. it hits joshua like a truck. you’ve never introduced someone to him as a boyfriend. he’s always met the people you’ve dated before it progressed that far. he also had the privilege of meeting them privately, not with the rest of the friend group, none of who are privy to the way his heart collapses in on itself when he watches the way you lean into soonyoung all night. the way you laugh with him. the way his eyes disappear from how fondly he smiles at you. the way he seems to fit right into your life so perfectly.

you hug joshua tightly that night before leaving, and you tell him you miss him so much and you two need to catch up soon. neither of you follow up, though, and a year later, you’re engaged.

the week before joshua is due at your wedding as a guest—not your “man-of-honor” the way you’ve always planned your entire life—he gets completely shit-faced drunk.

he’s sitting on the sidewalk in front of a puddle of his own vomit when you quietly sit beside him, slipping your arm around his shoulders. he doesn’t know why you’re there. he doesn’t know if he’s hallucinating. he smiles anyway.

“hey, you.”

“hey, shua,” you whisper, smiling at him sadly. “what are you doing?”

“oh, y’know,” he shrugs, grinning at himself pathetically. “just hanging out.”

you hum, nodding.

“what are you doing here?” he asks.

you look at him with an inscrutable expression. “i just wanted to see you,” you answer. “i wanted to see my best friend.”

“am i?” he asks, looking up at the sky. the moon is covered by clouds tonight. “your best friend?”

“of course. you always will be.”

he smiles at the thought. he’s too drunk to realize there’s no possible way that’s true, not since soonyoung came into your life. he’s too drunk to remember there’s no room in your life for another man who’s just as hopelessly in love with you as your fiance is.

“say, do you believe in god yet?” he asks suddenly.

you raise an eyebrow at the suddenness of the question. “um, i haven’t thought about it lately.”

he nods. “okay.”

“joshua, what are you doing here?” you ask again. “what are you really doing here?”

he doesn’t remember what he tells you. what he does remember is waking up in the room he grew up in instead of his apartment, with his mother at the foot of his childhood bed, tears welling in her eyes.

“was it y/n?” she asks.

he frowns. “what?”

“when you asked what i would do if you married someone who didn’t believe in god all those years ago,” she explains, sniffling a little as she does. “were you talking about y/n?”

he doesn’t answer.

the events of the previous night catch up to him, and he remembers where he is—where his life is. he’s a handful of days from watching you marry someone else. he’s a handful of days from losing the one person he’s ever fallen in love with to someone else.

and all joshua has to show for it is his goddamn faith, and suddenly, for the first time since he asked his mother that question, he’s not sure it was worth it. because either way, he knows he’ll be devoted to you until the day he dies; he might as well have had you by his side all this time.

he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. when he fails, he can’t help the sobs that begin to rack his body.

he buries the heel of his hands into his eyes until he sees stars.

“she’s marrying him,” he groans through his sobs. “she’s marrying him, mom.”

“oh, joshua. i know.” he feels his mom’s hand squeeze his leg. “oh, baby, i’m so sorry.”

“i can’t do this. i can’t do it,” he wheezes, feeling like his lungs are collapsing under the weight of his ribs. “why did i do this? i can’t do this.”

she doesn’t try to convince him he can do this. she doesn’t try to argue that he didn’t do anything wrong. she doesn’t tell him to calm down. she collects him in her arms and she holds him, comforting him the way only a mother knows how to.

when he starts to calm down, she kisses the crown of his head.

“the pain you must’ve endured all this time. i’m so sorry, joshua. if i had known who you were talking about, i would’ve said something entirely different.”

he untangles himself from her embrace to look at his mother. “what do you mean?”

she wipes at her own tear-stained cheeks before cupping her son’s face. “oh, sweetheart. it’s y/n. you grew up with her. i know her like i would my own daughter.”

his mother shakes her head and joshua feels like he sees all his regret mirrored in her face. she pulls him to sit against the wall his bed is pushed up against, joining him as they both stare out the opposite window.

“there are some people who lead godly lives without even knowing it,” she informs him. “you say she doesn’t believe in god, but i don’t believe you.” his stomach lurches. “that girl has lived as godly a life as you and i have. she doesn’t need to be catholic to do that, baby. you know her. there isn’t a single universe where that girl would’ve led you away from your faith.”

joshua stammers now. “but… i…”

“all the sundays she tagged along for mass with us because she just wanted to be with her best friend when she could’ve been out on the playgrounds,” his mother begins listing. “she always respectfully bowed her head when we prayed before meals even though we both knew she wasn’t praying.”

his head is reeling now. is it possible he rewrote his own memories? could he have created his own narrative of what life with you would look like?

“remember when you were both 14 and she learned what lent was? she tried giving up soda and ended up crying, begging me for forgiveness when she forgot and accidentally had coke with her school lunch.”

his mother’s shoulders shake with nostalgic laughter.

“you would’ve thought i was god the way that girl wailed,” she reminisces. she sighs in the silence that follows. “joshua, my son. some people… they show you they love god in a way different than we do, and it’s my fault i never properly taught you that.”

he turns his head to look at her but her gaze remains trained on the window. he sees now that it’s not his regret she mirrors but her own.

“i think i was too preoccupied with ensuring i raised you to be a good, catholic man—too preoccupied with making sure you didn’t become anything like your father.”

he breathes in deeply and returns his focus to the window.

“but i should’ve made it clear. i should’ve shown you that god exists in all the little acts of love we give and receive. i should’ve shown you that organized religion isn’t the only marker of faith.” she pauses, taking a shaky breath. “maybe then you would’ve recognized y/n as a woman of god. maybe then you wouldn’t be so hurt now.”

the words are enough to make joshua even more nauseous than his hangover is already making him.

“y/n… she shows godliness in the way she respects you and your beliefs. she shows it in the way she supports and loves you through every season of your life. it’s unfair to say she isn’t good enough for you because her faith lies in a different place.”

“i never thought she wasn’t good enough for me,” he interjects quickly. his mom doesn’t argue that, simply nodding. “she’s perfect. i just… i thought we were incompatible.”

“and maybe you are,” she agrees.

she doesn’t need to say it out loud; they both know what comes next. but now you’ll never know.

“i just wanted to apologize,” his mom tells him, taking his hand in hers and squeezing. “i feel like i’ve failed you.”

“you haven’t, mom,” he says quietly. “i failed me.”

“we’ll agree to disagree,” she announces, making him smile a little. “but i’m sorry anyway. there are a lot of things i’d change now if i could.”

he feels the familiar tightness in his chest. it’s his companion at this point, the heartbreak. “me too, mom. me too.”

joshua played with your hair from where he was laying on your couch. you were sitting criss-cross in front of him on the floor, clicking through netflix and trying to find a movie you both wanted to watch.

"is there anything that could happen that would make you believe in god?" he suddenly asked you. you frowned at the abrupt question, setting the remote down on the floor.

"that's random."

"just curious," he murmured softly, like he was so relaxed he was about to fall asleep.

"hmm," you hummed in thought, resting your head back so you could stare at the ceiling. he adjusted your hair so it fell over his lap. "like what, some kind of miracle that can only be explained by god?"

he shrugged. "sure. whatever."

"probably not..." you answered with hesitation. "i can't really think of a kind of miracle that would have me questioning god, though."

"like, if someone you loved were given a terminal diagnosis—three months to live. and suddenly, their illness clears up with no explanation. even doctors are astounded. what would you think?"

you shrugged. "i would be too happy they're not dying to question how it happened." he blew out a breath of exasperation. "okay, okay," you laughed, trying to figure out a more definite answer for him. "no, i don't think there's anything that could happen. it just seems too convenient that there's someone out there in charge of everyone's lives."

he nodded along but said nothing. you fidgeted in the silence. the quiet wasn't something the two of you ever shied from; it was always comfortable with joshua. for some reason, you felt awkward. so you kept talking to fill the silence.

"i think i could be open to believing something, though," you admitted honestly. "i just don't want to get to a place where i would blame this... thing or person for the things going wrong in my life. but that's just me. i still love that people believe so strongly in it. faith is a beautiful thing."

joshua taught you that. faith withstood a lot of things, and your best friend was the prime example. nothing was quite as beautiful as his love for his religion, his god, his spirituality. even if it scared you sometimes—even if it unintentionally made you feel too small to be someone lucky enough to have joshua's heart—you knew it was still precious.

"would you marry someone religious?"

you snorted. "where are these questions coming from?"

"indulge me."

you sighed, closing your eyes and enjoying the way his fingers carded through your hair. "that's so hard to answer without knowing who it is. it depends on the person. i can't make a decision based solely on how religious they are."

"okay, i guess that's fair." he paused. "would you ever convert for someone?"

"i don't think so?" you said, hating how unsure you sounded answering all of these questions. "but who knows? i really can't say for sure without knowing who it is, shua. how about you? would you marry someone who wasn't religious?"

your heart pounded at the silence that followed.

"it depends on the person," he finally said with a playful tone.

you rolled your eyes. "exactly."

"alright, what about kids?"

"shua, why are you interrogating me right now?"

he snickered. "i'm having a conversation with my best friend. is that not allowed?"

you lifted your head and turned to glare at him, your hair slipping between his fingers. he dropped his hand now that he had nothing to play with. he raised his eyebrows at you slightly.

"of course it's allowed," you scoffed. "it's just... so out of nowhere."

"well?" he prodded, ignoring your comments.

"okay, what about kids?" you relented.

"would you baptize them if you did marry someone religious?"

you laughed. "so much religion talk tonight."

he didn't dignify that with a response.

you groaned, again having no idea. if you took all these questions and made them about joshua, they would be a million times easier to answer. but he wasn't asking about himself, he was asking about some faceless, nameless nobody, and you weren't invested enough to answer accurately.

"i don't know... if it's important to my partner, then of course i would consider it," you finally said. "but i guess i'd be most comfortable just letting my kids figure it out themselves."

"that's wise," he remarked.

"mhm, sure" you hummed. "can we watch a movie now? i'll even let you choose an anime if you stop asking questions that make me sweaty."

he smirked and nodded. "okay, come up here, though."

you joined him on the couch and you spent the rest of the night binging anime episodes. you wouldn't be able to say what you watched, though, because the entire time, your mind was stuck on what the answers would've been if they were about joshua.

the end is long and beautiful.

you marry kwon soonyoung in front of all your loved ones, and you do it knowing full well this man will give you the happiest life. you spend the night eating the food you both painstakingly chose together, dancing to songs recommended by your guests on their RSVPs, and laughing so hard, tears stream down both of your faces.

and when you sidle up to your best friend as he leans on the bar, waiting for his drink, he has the strength to look happy for you. you’re sure he isn’t. at least not quite all the way.

“i’m happy you’re happy, y/n.”

you smile. “thank you, shua.” you pause, tilting your head a little in thought. you add: “for everything.”

“what’s everything?” he asks, smiling in confusion.

“for everything... for being my best friend all this time. loving me like you did. letting me love you," you list, ignoring the way his eyes widen at you. "most of all, i guess i just want to thank you for everything you gave up so we could be here,” you finish before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. you pull away, cupping his face, and smiling. “i’ll never forget it. thank you.”

you’re swept back onto the dance floor by your bridesmaids. it was a short exchange, but you know it was enough.

you’re not dumb. you knew what joshua had to give up so you could be here, happy, in love, and with the man perfect for you.

everything. he had to give up everything. he chose his devotion to god over his devotion to you, and you never faulted him for that because you knew it was a decision that would destroy him, and maybe it did at one point, having to bury his love as deep as he did.

you didn’t believe heaven was real, and still, he chose to love you until it hurt like hell and you knew it. there might have been a younger version of you that was heartbroken he couldn’t possibly imagine a life with you where you were capable of supporting his beliefs wholeheartedly regardless of yours. because you would have. you would have done everything in your power to make him feel loved while keeping his door to his god wide open.

there might have been a younger version of you that would’ve hated him for this.

but tonight, as you slow dance with your husband, feeling the safest you’ve felt in your entire life, all you can do is thank joshua hong for all the choices he made without asking you first.

ironically, because of him, you can see god now. you can see god in the way soonyoung holds you like you’re the most precious person in his life. you can see god in his patience and care. in his kindness. in his dedication to making you smile and laugh.

you’ve never seen god in a clearer light.

you think back to your last, honest night with joshua, on that deserted street, when he drunkenly called you.

“what are you really doing here?”

“i’m mourning,” he answered. “i’m mourning the life we could’ve had.” he frowned as tears began to fall down your face. “don’t cry. i don’t want to make you sad. i’m okay, i promise. i’ll be okay. i’m just letting you go now... for real this time.” he hiccuped. "for real, for real."

“you didn’t have to, you know,” you whispered.

“i think i did.”

you got him to his mother’s home that night, not wanting him to wake up alone with the weight of his sadness. you didn’t exchange many words, but you knew she knew. she hugged you, told you she was happy for you and soonyoung, and she looked at you for several, long seconds. you felt like she could see right through you because she probably could—she always did.

“you’ll always have him.”

“and he’ll always have me.”

“i know.”

the end is long and beautiful, and it’s simultaneously the best and the most devastating night of your life.

but your lives go on, and you and joshua both find what keeps you warm at night, and you hold onto it for as long as you can.

and you’re okay with that. you hope he is too.